Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Plié… Cou de pied… Arabesque…“

Vernon breathes in. And out. There is a feather stuck in his leggings, right above his calf, but he remains completely immobile, holding the position perfectly, his other leg stretched back in an elegant curve. Only his breathing lifts his shoulders rhythmically, waiting for the instructions to pick up again.

“Envelopé into third… Révérance… Yerim, the male one for you, stay in your role for the whole training… Aaaand…“ 

The music comes to a torrentious end.

“You’re done, voilà.“

“Thank you, Jeonghan,“ says Madame Seo with a smile and claps her hands together once. “Good work today, I hope to keep this energy up next week. Now go home and enjoy Chuseok with your families.“

The studio is filled with the bustling noises of bodies straightening themselves, polite, but not less sincere “thank you“s, and the rumbling of the second barre being pushed against the wall. Vernon finally picks that feather out of the fabric around his legs and blows it into Jeonghan’s dark hair when he conveniently passes by. The assistant trainer, albeit working in a serious establishment, is wearing a shirt that brightly proclaims “Chopin was gay for a reason“. Vernon can only guess what said reason might be.

“Nice music choice,“ he tells his senior. “Not often you get an arrangement to this Satie, but I liked the pace you set.“

Jeonghan gives his signature cocky grin, which doesn’t conceal his genuine pride, and shoots a glance at their instructor. “Gotta get creative to impress the lady of the house,“ he replies, “Plus, it was a really hot tip. Challenged myself, thanks, Vernon.“

The younger nods at that. Always nice to get a compliment from a sunbae, even more so when it’s an honest acknowledgement of what feels like a real accomplishment. Vernon had helped his elder out with pleasure. Satie is now what accompanies him off the parquet, into the locker rooms where he swaps slippers and tights for sweatpants, a woollen coat and a scarf, and out into the autumn drizzle. The Première Gymnopédie, contrasting Jeonghan’s earlier choice of the rather turbulent Troisième morceau en forme de poire (Brutal - that’s actually part of the piece’s name), raises Vernon’s eyes against gloomy facades and the gleam of cars’ headlights on wet streets - but not in melancholy.

*

Vernon takes his earbuds out when he stops his bike in front of the Jungs’ Record Store. As shit as the weather is, he is glad that he took his bike to training today, because the pedalling at least kept his muscles warm against the chilly wind and distracted them from already aching from the training. Sure, he could have taken the bus like he usually does, but he only plans to pick up some orders he has already paid for, give the Jungs his best wishes for the holidays, and then head home to start his post-training routine as soon as humanly possible. Joshua’s mother gave him some really nice bath salts the other day, and since this has been the last training session before Chuseok break, he plans to treat himself.

The plan, however, finds a slight change when the guy paying at the register before him turns around a little too quickly and nearly runs into Vernon.

“Oh shit, sorry,“ the guy mutters, pushes his slid down beanie out of his eyes, and then-

“Oh, hey, Vernon.“

The man’s eyes crinkle up a little as he moves away from the counter. They seem to be underlined in black.

“Wonwoo-hyung, hi,“ he replies with a smile. “Didn’t think we’d… well, you would run into me here.“

Wonwoo huffs his one-syllable laugh.

“Didn’t really plan to come here in the first place, but, you know - plans.“

Mr. Jung gives Wonwoo a pointed look at the possible implications of that statement, which he luckily doesn’t notice, so Vernon quickly turns his own attention to the shop owner and retrieves his vinyls from him. After a bow and a “Happy Chuseok“, which Wonwoo politely wishes as well, the dancer holds open the door for his new companion.

„So, what did you get?“ he asks in honest curiosity. Wonwoo’s appearance leaves only little room for guesses in his taste in music, clad in all black as he's been his whole life, with some silver safety pins on the trousers or red stitching highlights on the beanie, but it’s been a while since they’ve exchanged recommendations.

“Stuff for my friend, mostly, but they are selfish gifts,“ Wonwoo replies as he digs a pack of cigarettes out of his motor jacket.

“Some Fugazi and Dinosaur Jr.. Want one?“ he offers Vernon.

“I don’t smoke.“

“Huh. Didn’t we use to smoke together?“

Vernon shakes his head.

“That was college days. Don’t do it anymore now.“

Wonwoo shrugs and lights his solitary cigarette.

“Can I give you a lift home then? Can’t have your ankles freeze off,“ he grins after taking a drag. The smoke billows in a nearly pristine white in the cold, stark contrast against his dark appearance. His waterline is definitely traced in black, Vernon notes. It looks good. Ruggish.

Vernon points at his bike.

“Got my trusty steed, can’t leave her here to get rusty,“ he says, earning a deadpan stare from Wonwoo.

“Lame pun,“ he snorts, to which Vernon retaliates with a shrug of his own.

“You look good, though,“ the older smiles as he puts out his cigarette against the sole of his shoe. “Healthy. It was good seeing you, Vernon.“ 

The way he says his name carries a sweetness of tangerines and warmer winds that wins a battle against the bitter taste the smoke left on Vernon’s tongue. Wonwoo looks hesitant for a second, then leans forward to give the younger man a quick hug.

“You too,“ Vernon answers as he squeezes his elder a bit, receiving a small huff in return. “Say hi to your family.“

Wonwoo nods and heads towards the ugliest outdated BMW Vernon has ever seen, covered in stickers of bands and political slogans and… a sticker from the university’s art faculty?, where scratches and bumps taint the black surface. It’s so Wonwoo, it makes Vernon laugh a bit.

“You have my number?“ Wonwoo calls before getting in.

“Bet,“ Vernon replies and mounts his bike.

*

The training bag gets thrown on the floor in his room. His coat and scarf, too. The beanie gets flung on the coatrack with perfect aim. Seokmin isn’t home yet, but Vernon still wouldn’t leave a mess in the entrance, where he only left his shoes. With a fresh change of sweatpants and a plain white T, he grabs one of his new vinyls and heads into the bathroom where he sets up the disk on his spare record player while he runs the water. Seokmin had been unsure about putting the device into the constantly damp room at first, more out of concern to accidentally damage it, but Vernon had showed him how to clean the player and keep it dry on the shelf where even a Kim Mingyu can’t knock it over.

As soon as the temperature of the water is right, Vernon throws Mrs. Hong’s bath salts in, sets the needle on the record, and gets undressed. Brew (Regurgitated) sounds out of the speaker as he steps into the tub. Time to relax his sissone-jump sore muscles.

Sadly, his plans are disturbed once again. The first song on the record isn’t even over yet (admittedly, it’s over six minutes long) when he hears the front door slam open, followed by sounds of a scuffle and a shrill “hold on, Vernon is in there!“ before the bathroom door is swung open and in bursts a guy with heated cheeks and a gigantic duffle coat slowly sliding off his shoulders.

Vernon stares into round eyes, hands still massaging his tired thigh because his muscle memory is stronger than his common sense that tells him that his position must look very compromising, a thought that is clearly reflected in the guy’s look at him. And still, all he can do is offer a tentative smile.

“Uh, well. Hi“

“I’m so sorry!“ Seokmin near screams as he kneads Vernon’s shoulder on the couch. 

“I didn’t think of telling him that you’re usually in the tub at this time, and the music threw me off! What kind of relaxation was that even supposed to be?!“

“McKenna is cool,“ Vernon mumbles into the cushions.

“You bought a whole Tash Sultana record! How was that a more appropriate bathing soundtrack than Tash fucking Sultana!“

Vernon laughs at his roommate’s desperate attempts to cover up how sorry he felt for not preventing that whole bursting in incident. Immediately after the friend he had brought over had started to make confused noises in the doorway, Seokmin had pulled him back into the living room and pulled the door shut with a screamed “I’m so sorry, continue!“, followed by a confused and slightly terrified “Continue??“ from his guest.

Seungkwan, the guy that had disturbed his bath time, was very sorry as well when Vernon came out a little while later - he had figured that 'calm' wasn’t really an achievable state anymore -, and after Seokmin had explained to him that the dancer was indeed not jacking off in the bathtub, but taking care of his very exhausted, very overworked muscles.

“I apologise so sincerely to have bursted in on you, I really did not mean to invade your privacy like that“, he had said with a remaining hint of pink in his cheeks.

“You could’ve just gone to the toilet after choir“, Seokmin had mumbled behind his back, to which Seungkwan had replied with a whined “I didn’t need to go then, and you made me drink your leftover tea that you bought even though you knew you didn’t like it!“

Vernon had just chuckled about their antics and smiled at Seungkwan when he told him not to worry about it. The guy was nearly a head smaller than him, but he carried himself with such self-assurance, despite the situation he was in. His eyes had glinted with relief and a gentle joy when he heard Vernon’s reply, and then he’d left the apartment.

“I’m glad you’re not seriously mad at me, because that would have been pretty bad for me, but that was still super embarrassing and I need at least four days to get over that,“ was what he had said to the taller before squeezing his arm once, throwing an empty plastic bottle at Seokmin’s head and heading out the entrance. “Thank you for letting me use your toilet, happy Chuseok!“ was his goodbye before the door shut behind him, leaving Seokmin to shout mild-ish profanities at him and Vernon to laugh at that exchange.

Now Seokmin is groaning pitifully and burying his face in Vernon’s back.

“That was NOT how the day was planned to go,“ he sighs. 

Vernon tries to twist his arms so he can pat his friend on the head, but has to stop his endeavour when his muscles scream at the pull. With a grunt, he somehow manages to turn on his back without pushing Seokmin to the floor.

“And now Seungkwan is gonna feel bad about it, too, for sure, and he was so excited to meet you.“

“He was?“ Vernon asks while he can finally start patting Seokmin’s strawberry blond hair.

“Yeah, he thought it was so cool that you did ballet after I’d told him about your personality. I guess he thought that clashed, but he was genuinely curious to meet you.“

The man’s sharp features twist in worry when he finally starts unwrapping Vernon’s hot wraps to stick them to some more or less calculated places on his upper arms.

“I bet he feels really embarrassed now, even if he should get used to that, but it’s still a shitty thing to happen. Turn back around and take your shirt off if you want some on your back,“ he says with a slap on the last wrap on Vernon’s arm.

“Hyung, you were literally lying on my back for ten minutes,“ the younger protests, but still does as he’s been told. The short bath was not nearly enough to give his body any proper regeneration.

“We wanted to do something cool with you, too,“ Seokmin sighs again while applying the sticking wraps to Vernon’s lower back, this time more carefully.

“Don’t worry too much, hyung. We’ll do something fun with him after Chuseok,“ Vernon smiles into the crook of his arm. He’s already looking forward to it, if he’s being honest, and dishonesty isn’t something he plays with. 

“The weather is supposed to be nice next week.“

*

The weather is, of course, not nice the week after Chuseok.

When he steps out of the studio the next Monday, Vernon feels pretty good about not coming to training with his 'trusty steed'. The downpour is dreadful.

"God, do I hate my luck," Chan says next to him.

Vernon looks down to see the younger boy looking up, his brows furrowed in disdain.

"There is really no reason I should get soaked to my bones the day our radiators get checked."

"Aw man, that stinks," Vernon replies, to which Chan heavily sighs and says “No but it really does, that’s why we had to get repair people in.“

The innocent despair of his dancing colleague and friend makes Vernon laugh, and just as he is about to offer his umbrella to him, he feels someone’s arms wrap around his shoulders.

"Now that’s what I call disgusting,“ Jeonghan says. “Want a ride?“

'The ride' is Jeonghan’s best friend, who is parked a few hundred meters down the street. Vernon is apparently the only one astute enough to carry a fold-in umbrella around with him wherever he goes, so the three dancers squeeze into the little weather-safe space it provides and run to Seungcheol’s car with a lot of screeches and laughs until they breathlessly drop into the Jeep’s back seats. The drive is filled with relaxed chatter while the three dancers rub each others’ arms, legs and backs warm, Seungcheol complaining about feeling like a glorified taxi driver and Jeonghan’s witty retorts giving them enough to laugh about. Even Chan, who was intimidated by the stranger’s overall authoritative presence at first, soon jokes along with his elders.

Vernon asks to be dropped off in front of the grocery store instead of directly home to avoid any further delay in the other guys’ schedules, but also to grab some soy milk since Seokmin decided to have three bowls of cereal in the middle of the night after studying instead of having dinner, again. He is in and out of the store, popping up his collar against the cool wind that is picking up again. The rain hasn’t gotten any weaker, but luckily his apartment is a mere four-minute walk away, and so is his bathtub. Once again the wish of an AI system that starts running the water for him to plunge into right upon coming home crosses Vernon’s mind, leaving him shivering in the cold. There’s a box on the sidewalk, sinking into itself when its soaked through walls are pushed down by the weight of the downpour, which pretty accurately represents the way Vernon feels at the moment.

Except Vernon doesn’t mewl like the box does.

Or wiggle.

Vernon slowly approaches the suspicious activity and carefully crouches down next to it when he can’t see the content right away. His duffle bag is heavy, slung on his back, and his thighs ache from the movement, and the wind keeps blowing the rain into his face despite the umbrella resting on his head now, but all of that discomfort is forgotten when the young man lifts the box’s lid.

“Oh…. my god,“ he whispers. And stares.

It’s kittens.

One of them screams at Vernon and falls over its sibling, making him gasp in awe. Two of them are the most luminous orange a cat could be, while the third is a wild mix of browns and greys, digging against the walls of the wet box.

“You... are the most precious little babies,“ he barely utters, gasping again when the loud one manages to stand up against the box, looking up at him.

And screams again.

And Vernon gasps again.

And then the other kittens start reacting to him, coming closer, until Vernon finally dares to reach out to the little animals. His fingers feel like they’ll freeze off if he doesn’t bury his hand back into his pocket within the next 19 seconds or so, but he’s soon met with soft fur and warm little noses pressed against his palm - one last gasp before Vernon sets down his milk.

“Alright, you’re coming with me.“

*

“Can baby cats have soy milk“ is more widely looked up than one would think, even more when someone would think that the answer is rather clear - NO, baby cats cannot have soy milk. However, baby cats need to eat, and Vernon has literally no idea what.

“They’re like real babies, right? They probably can’t have solid foods yet. But i can’t mush carrots for them, either,“ Vernon mutters to himself. 

He did not think this through when he’d just scooped up the kittens and set them into his training bag to hurry home as quickly as possible. He’s never had cats, but god does he love them, although that doesn’t help him much in this situation. But the sight of the little creatures stumbling around on the living room carpet definitely makes up for his slight despair. They are. SO cute.

One of the orange ones keeps screaming and meowing at him and its siblings with its shrill little voice, the grey one replying from time to time. The other orange one is exploring the new environment, making big steps and hopping around loose threads in the carpet. Vernon can’t help grinning at the sight, especially when the loud one ventures closer to him and starts attacking his knee.

The living room floor looks like a battlefield. His bag is laying around open, some of its contents strewn around while the rest of it is in the laundry basket since one of the cats apparently peed into it, several towels Vernon used to wipe away said pee and rub the kittens dry are lying on the ground, and his wet coat is carelessly thrown onto the sofa. At least his umbrella is set to dry in the bathroom and not on Seokmin’s nice (-ish, but don’t tell him that) carpet. 

“What do baby cats eat“ only tells him that he needs baby cat milk. A piece of information that proves more helpful when Vernon checks where you can buy said milk and he finds out that you can get it at any grocery store. In fact, the chain that the store he just came from belongs to, carries it as well.

A quick text to “please get that (insert picture of baby cat milk here)“ is shot at Seokmin, who replies with a pointed “????“, before Vernon heaves himself off the ground to clean up the mess he’s made. His movement is met with a protesting cry from two of the three kittens, the orange one immediately attempting to climb up his leg.

“Alright, so you're a warrior type,“ Vernon laughs. “You can help.“

It isn’t long before the front door opens and Seokmin’s “Vernon what the heeeell!!“ sounds through the apartment. Despite the urgency of his roommate’s tone, Vernon calmly looks out of the bathroom where he was scrubbing the inside of his bag to rid it of any cat pee residue. The kitten from before has conquered his sweater’s hood and fell asleep in it after playing with one of the hoody strings for a bit, while the other orange one has gone to sleep in the middle of the carpet. It’s the grey one that is now curiously hopping towards a terrified looking Seokmin.

“What’s up?“ Vernon asks innocently. “Did you get that milk?“

The little grey one is now screaming at his roommate.

“Vernon, I’m allergic! Why did you carry two random cats into our apartment?“

“Three, actually,“ Vernon says when the kitten in his hood starts stirring and climbs onto his shoulder. “Meet Napoleon Bonaparte, Kimchi-Jjigae and Earl Grey, names are more or less likely to change.“

Despite his initial shock, Seokmin laughs at the absurdity of these names. “Now what was the process of calling a cat Kimchi-Jjigae?“

Vernon doesn’t take any offence in his friends words and just shrugs with a grin. “Maybe I was a bit hungry.“

After moving around the Earl, who has started sniffing his shoes, Seokmin comes towards Vernon to hand him a plastic bag with the cat milk in it.

“They only had these huge combination packs, but I guess that’s not that big of a problem,“ he says while tentatively reaching for Napoleon Bonaparte on Vernon’s shoulder. The kitten immediately grips his finger with its paws and starts gnawing on it, at which the man’s eyes widen with momentary panic before he laughs again. 

“I guess they’re cute enough.“ With a look at Vernon’s happy face, he can’t help but notice the exhaustion showing itself in his tensed up jaw and the mess of his usually neat hair.

“Wait, did you not take your bath yet? You kinda look… pretty shit, actually. Were you out in the rain for long?“

“Uuh, yeah, kinda,“ Vernon realises. “I was sorta distracted, honestly, but I guess I’ll do that now.“ He goes to gather the other kittens while Seokmin runs into the kitchen to quickly wash his hands before he accidentally rubs cat particles all over his face. Vernon follows soon after to finally feed the animals.

Both of them crouch down when the kittens have stopped their screaming and hungrily gather around the bowl, greedily lapping at the milk. Seokmin laughs when Kimchi-Jjigae nearly drops its little face into it and sighs.

“I haven’t sneezed yet, so I guess they can stay.“

Vernon looks up to his friend with a beaming grin.

“Thank you!“

*

How is it that both his last post-training bath times have been disturbed so drastically? Vernon sincerely hopes that this doesn’t become a common occurrence and he’ll be able to disrupt this unlucky streak on Wednesday when he has training again, because right now he’s setting up new televisions at work and his whole body hates him with a passion. God do his calves hurt. And his thighs. And his ass. And his whole entire back. And his neck. 

“Is this what it feels like to be old?“ he says to no one in particular, but of course his boss hears him.

“It is, my boy! And it gets worse, trust me!“ Mr Hong shouts from the kitchen appliances, eliciting a groan from Vernon. He took a bath, in the end, but his evening was everything but the ordinary when he had dinner nearly two hours later than usual and got only little sleep after his evening yoga got disturbed by the kittens exploring his room, and other nightly activities. He had to carry them into the bathroom at one point because he realised that they could pee onto his comforter at any given second, and he did NOT want that, as much as he loved the little rascals. He nearly fell asleep on the bus to work, but luckily the human interactions with customers in the electronics store are managing to wake him up.

Especially when the bell above the shop entrance jingles violently around noon, followed by a loud “Mr. Hong, I need a printer!“

Vernon looks up as his boss chuckles “Good morning to you, too“ at the customer.

“Sorry for being so loud,“ the guy replies apologetically. “I’m just really in a hurry right now, and kinda stressed.“

Mr. Hong, patient as always, just waves the worry away.

“I know you aren’t as rowdy as you look, Wonwoo. Hansol will help you with that printer in no time.“

Both of them look up at the same time.

“Wonwoo! We meet again,“ the younger one exclaims. The other one looks a bit taken aback, pulling off his beanie to reveal a messy heap of black hair and… wow, those are a lot of piercings that Vernon did not notice the last time he saw Wonwoo.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t know you worked here,“ he greets him back, coming towards the younger as he makes his way towards him to converse without shouting across the shop.

“Well, not being the lead in ballet productions doesn’t make up for all of my worldly desires on top of rent and living expenses,“ Vernon replies as he stops in front of his elder.  “Joshua got me the job a few years ago when I didn’t want to leech off of my parents’ allowance any longer, so now I’m leeching off his parents now,“ he grins into Mr. Hong’s direction.

Wonwoo smiles at him, his cheeks still flushed from the cold. He’s wearing a different leather jacket now. This one has a furry collar that seems to be the softest part of his whole appearance. He looks… sharp, that’s the only way Vernon can describe his look, and his dark and confident clothing makes him seem much bigger than he actually is, even if he is neither much taller than Vernon, nor much wider. All in black, with a backpack reminiscent of his BMW’s look, shiny and slightly pointy leather boots, skinny jeans with security needles at the seams and the eyeliner he noticed last time. And the piercings. Vernon’s breath catches a bit when he sees that not only both ears, but also one of his eyebrows are decorated with silver. Wonwoo got even cooler from when they’d see each other during Vernon’s college days.

He gets ripped out of his contemplations when Wonwoo replies to him.

“Right, I’d like to ask about Seokmin and Josh, but I really need to get that printer,“ he says with an apologetic smile, rubbing his hands on his pants.

“Oh sure,“ Vernon replies after a little pause. He can feel himself flush a bit, flustered that he checked out Wonwoo so hard he spaced out.

“What do you need a printer for so quickly? Doesn’t every self-respectable, what, master’s student have one?“

Wonwoo sighs. “Yeah, but mine broke down a while ago and Prof. Min sent me an email with a paper I need to print for him when I was already on my way home. He’s cool and all, but being his TA can seriously suck when he forgets his own deadlines and I have to save his academic ass. I don’t have time to drive all the way back to the copy shops on campus and send the thing off to research, and I need a new printer anyways.“

While his customer was rambling about his worries, Vernon was leading them to the office appliances section, where he chose the cheapest printer that he knows will actually do its job a long time and not die from staring at it a bit too hard.

“This bad boy can do all your regular printing stuff,“ he says with a slap on the device, pulling Wonwoo’s attention to him again.

“It’s not super expensive, but this one is usually pretty fast and dependable, and it’s pretty easy to set up with the internet and laptops and stuff. The more expensive ones just have some fancier touch pads or voice activation, and I’m assuming you don’t need a photo printer so it should be pretty okay for a student,“ he continues while the older man stares at the thing in interest, but also slight desperation.

Sensing his elder’s worry, Vernon chuckles and claps a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m off for lunch in a bit anyways, how about I set it up for you here and you can print your thing right away?“

Wonwoo’s eyebrows turn up in an expression of pure relief.

“God, please,“ he shoots out, making the younger laugh.

*

Wonwoo leaves with his inked up printer, a stash of paper, and a gleeful wave upon entering his hideous car, Mr. Hong waving back enthusiastically. This costumer left a nice tip for the quick assistance and Vernon’s spontaneous help, which earns the employee a shower of compliments by his employer when he finally gets to start his lunch break. He spends more time on stretching his aching body than eating, and he can not wait for a bath when he ends his shift four hours later. He plans to bring the kittens to the vet first, though. Who knows how long they’ve been out on their own, maybe they’re sick or carry flees or something of the sorts. But after that, Vernon will bathe for at least half an hour. No disturbances in his plans today.

“The cats cannot stay, Vern,“ Seokmin says with a tremendous sniff. “I’m sorry, but this day has been hell for my poor allergic body.“

The kittens are playing on the sofa, only Kimchi-Jjigae acknowledging Vernon’s arrival with a soft meow.

“You need to find someone to take them, please,“ his poor roommate tells him from his room’s doorway, standing as far away from the kittens as he possibly can without completely disappearing out of view. “I left the door open in case they started some shit, but that was already bad enough.“

Vernon can see from where’s he’s dropping off his shoes that Seokmin is in a bad shape. Eyes swollen and red behind his glasses, a runny nose, and his incessant sneezing are pretty good indicators that his friend’s situation is quite serious, which makes Vernon feel pretty bad about leaving him to watch for the cats while he was at work. In his defence, Seokmin had been pretty confident that he wouldn’t react that badly, saying that working on his assignments while the cats went on with their days shouldn’t be a problem. Obviously, he had thought very wrong.

The cats are picked off the couch, eliciting loud, heart-melting purrs and meows from the the entangled heap they build in Vernon’s arms as they’re carried into the kitchen to get them some milk.

While the kittens are busy drinking, Vernon walks over to Seokmin’s room, making sure not to enter it as not to spread more cat hair into it.

“I’m really sorry man,“ he says  to his sniffling friend. “I’ll clean the apartment when you’re off to classes after I’ve gone to the vet, okay?“

Seokmin nods with a thankful pout.

“And I’ll text around to find someone to take them, don’t worry,“ Vernon adds. He is rather sad to have to let his new friends go, but his roommate’s health is more important.

“Thank you,“ Seokmin says, his voice all croaky and muffled from his stuffed nose. He sounds like he’s about to die, and Vernon can’t have that, so he sits down on the kitchen floor next to the cats to find a solution.

Joshua’s family has a dog. Chan’s apartment doesn’t allow animals bigger than a mud turtle. Mingyu, a walking boulder of a man, somehow gets the “heebie-jeebies“ from cats (his words, not Vernon’s). Jeonghan replied with a picture of two very big adult cats piled up on his chest and a simple “no thank you“.

“Nobody wants my little babies!“ Vernon shouts across the apartment, startling The Earl from her slumber with a purr. The other two kittens are still dozing in his lap, nestling themselves against his petting hands in their sleep.

“Ask the internet then!“, Seokmin shouts back. Vernon can see him packing his stuff for his evening class through the open doors. A look to his watch makes him curse under his breath. It’s nearly time for the appointment he made earlier today, and he still hasn’t found a new home for the cats. He decides to try one last person before he’ll ask the vet for any possibilities later, and he prays that he’s not out of line with his problem.

vernon

hyung do you like cats

Jeon Wonwoo

Fuck yeah man, I love cats, why

vernon

okay how about three of them

Jeon Wonwoo

Sure thing

Wait 

Why

Vernon??

What are you asking for???

*

“They… are… beautiful.“

“Do you want to take them in?“

“Oh my god are you kidding? Yes! If I can?“

Wonwoo had come to meet Vernon in front of the veterinarian without asking any questions after the younger had sent him the location. The suspicion he'd had about the nature of the meeting had come to be true when Vernon let him look into the wicker basket he was carrying along.

“I can’t keep them with Seokmin’s condition, and I guess you should pay for getting me an allergic roommate,“ he jokes, making the older one laugh in a relaxed manner, his nose bunching up all cute.

“Hi… Oh my god you are the absolute cutest,“ he whispers as he tentatively reaches into the basket, immediately greeted with cheerful meows and purring. Vernon nearly doesn’t want to take the kittens to their appointment so he can keep observing Wonwoo’s enamoured reaction to them. He’s smiling in a way that makes him look absolutely blissed out, and Vernon feels sorry to interrupt him.

“I told the receptionist that I’d wait outside until it was our turn so I could catch you, but it’s nearly time, so do you wanna come with?“ he asks his elder.

Wonwoo straightens himself with a last coo towards the cats and nods at Vernon.

“Sure,“ he replies. “Only makes sense when I’m taking them.“

Dr. Park is really nice and understanding of their situation. She gives Wonwoo an unsure look, probably mistrusting his abilities as a loving cat dad due to his appearance and pretty stern face, but she relaxes when she sees him playing with Kimchi-Jjigae and he starts smiling softly. Vernon has to admit that Wonwoo’s neutral face can look pretty scary to people that don’t know him, nearly mean with his dark makeup, and his reserved behaviour towards strangers can make him seem rude at first, but his unwavering attention towards the vet’s explanations and his interested questions show how serious he is about the cats, and how trustworthy he is. 

Vernon is pretty glad he thought of texting Wonwoo, too, because he feels like he hit the actual jackpot with that decision. Plus, the check-up on the cats is as positive as it can be.

“They must be around seven weeks old, judging from their moving abilities“ Dr. Park explains, “so they’re pretty lucky you found them, Mr. Chwe. Kittens shouldn’t be separated from their mothers this early, and they wouldn’t have survived on their own for much longer. They’re a bit malnourished, but that’s understandable considering they ended up in a box on the street, and with good care you will be able to get them up in shape. In at a month I need you to come back for another checkup and so we can chip them.“

She pauses for a bit to give one of the kittens a pat on the head, then continues her explanation. Since their eyes and noses are clean and they are lice-free, she assumes that the cats were set out of the street from a house cat’s litter, making both Vernon and Wonwoo frown at the thought.

As if to voice their disdain, one of the kittens screams, making the veterinarian laugh.

“She’s a lively one,“ she says while the intern who was in the room during the examination lifts the kittens back into their wicker basket.

“Oh, so Napoleon Bonaparte is a girl,“ Vernon mumbles surprisedly under his breath, making Wonwoo snort next to him.

“I need to know their names as soon as we’re out of here,“ he demands while the receptionist prints out the information the doctor has compiled for them. Vernon gives an incredulous chuckle when he finds out that Kimchi-Jjigae is, in fact, the only male, leaving Earl Grey as the second female.

“No more calling you The Earl then, I guess,“ he says while writing down the cats’ names onto their respective sheets, handing them and the basket to Wonwoo when they step outside. It’s gotten darker now, and Vernon gladly accepts the older’s offer to drive him home.

“So, uh, would you like to buy stuff for them with me one of these days? And you can visit the cats?“ Wonwoo asks after a very loud car ride, caused by both his car’s elderly state and the cats’ excited screams.

Vernon secures the seatbelt around the basket he’s placed on the passenger seat and looks up to Wonwoo with a soft smile.

“I’d love to.“

The elder nods.

“Cool, I’ll text you then,“ he says before driving off when Vernon has given the kittens one last pet. He already misses them. And can’t wait to see them again.

Vernon is finally taking his well deserved bath with his nicest smelling bath salts after hoovering, dusting, scrubbing and airing the whole apartment for Seokmin’s return, when he gets interrupted in his dozing by the pinging of his phone, announcing a notification.

This disturbance, however, does not ruin his peace this time.

Jeon Wonwoo

I still can’t believe you named a cat Kimchi-Jjigae.

Chapter Text

There’s no honesty.

A fierce look when they smile.

What is it about the simplest words that startle a train of thought of the deepest nature, but that they are so impossible to translate and convey? When is a mutual understanding going to be achieved solely through a talk? Probably never. Yes, communication is key. But isn’t it much more convenient to let your feelings soar out of you in song?

Skill of inconsistent conversation, I wanna stay forever dumb.

I don’t want anything more.

Wonwoo exhales. White and biting.

And inhales. Blue and clear.

There’s a dog barking somewhere, loud enough to sound over Hwang Soyoon singing in his earphones, causing him to furrow his brow as he looks towards the park at the end of the road, but the sun on his face soon has him relax his features again.

Whatever. Loud dogs usually don’t like him, but it’s not like he’s particularly threatening to them at the moment.

It’s Saturday afternoon, later than when he’d planned to meet Vernon to go to the pet supplies’ store. Vernon had training every day and another shift at Mr. Hong’s store Friday morning, and even today he had to spend his morning at the ballet studio.

But it’s not like Wonwoo didn’t have anything to do, either. Between running errands for Prof Min, holding and attending lectures of his own, and working on his assignments, he’s had to pose for Minghao (even though he wasn’t quite sure how his modelling translated onto his friend’s canvas) and save Jihoon in master’s project related crisis that had involved a Matrix binge and a lot of junk food.

And, of course, he had plenty to do with the cats.

Wonwoo has spent most of his week getting used to this new living arrangement, making some ground rules (mostly for himself after he’d spent three hours entertaining the kittens and had ended up nearly missing an appointment) and assuming somewhat of a schedule around the cats’ eating times. He’s also kinda managed to teach them that peeing was strictly bathroom business, even if they still relieve themselves on the tiles, seeing how he doesn’t have a litter box for them yet.

Couldn’t wait to get one. The bathroom doesn’t stink as of now, but that’s because Wonwoo spends half an hour scrubbing it every day. Please, no more. His hands are even drier than usual now.

The dog barks again. A truck passes by and the reflection of the sun in its window momentarily blinds Wonwoo where he’s leaning against his car in front of Vernon’s apartment complex. After all the rain this week, the sky has finally cleared up to reveal a cool autumn sun. It’s not necessarily warm, but Wonwoo was too nervous to stay put in his car, so here he is, smoking his third cigarette since lunch and repeatedly checking his phone for nothing in particular. Vernon has already replied to his text, saying that he’ll be down in a while, but it doesn’t stop Wonwoo from being kinda jittery.

It’s been, what, three years?

“Damn,“ Wonwoo whispers to himself. It’s kinda sad that he hasn’t really hung out with the younger boy for so long. If he can even call him a boy anymore.

Wonwoo can’t help but grin at the thought, quickly burying his hands in face.

Needless to say, he’s happy to get to spend the day with Vernon today.

The car sinks a bit behind him when someone leans against it.

“Everything okay with you?“

Wonwoo’s head shoots up and he nearly rips his ears off along with his headphones.

“Uh, yeah, peachy! Everything’s fine with me!“

Vernon next to him laughs a bit at how startled he is. Can’t really blame him.

Wonwoo manages to collect himself quite quickly and stands up straight to smile at Vernon, who looks at him expectantly.

“You ready to get the kittens some cool shit?“

“You know me, always ready to spend money on baby cats.“

*

Vernon is looking through the CDs Wonwoo keeps stashed in his car, nodding when he finds groups that he knows and asking questions about the others. All the while, Wonwoo is telling him about how the cats have been holding up, his phone blabbering some directions in between to guide them to the store.

“I’ve been meaning to get a cat for a while now anyways,“ Wonwoo says when Vernon finally pushes Hot Mulligan into the CD slot. The first song booms out of the speakers, causing both of them to jolt in their seats and scramble to turn the volume down. Wonwoo can’t help but laugh when he sees how out of breath Vernon is from the initial shock, and the younger soon joins in.

“So, why didn’t you?“ Vernon finally asks.

Wonwoo shrugs.

“Just didn’t come around to it. I’d just started working at the university and my assignments were seriously kicking my butt last semester, so taking care of anything else aside from me wasn’t really an option.“

“See, that’s why I dropped out,“ Vernon grins. “You major in history, right?“

“Yeah, I’m thinking of specialising on prehistoric East-Asia,“ Wonwoo replies with a glance to him.

“No joke, huh,“ the younger mumbles, pushing his fingers through his hair. He must have showered right before coming down to meet Wonwoo, because the tips seem to be still wet. His cheeks are still reddened, too, even if that might be from the cold.

Speaking of the cold, Vernon is wearing wider blue jeans and a cream coloured knit sweater with a bear stitched on the front, paired with some sneakers. And that… seems to be it.

“Vernon, did you not bring a jacket?“ Wonwoo asks incredulously.

Vernon looks down on himself in what seems to be surprise, like if he doesn’t remember what he’s wearing.

“No, not really,“ he replies with a sheepish grin and a shrug.

Wonwoo looks at him with disgust as he pulls the car into the pet supplies store’s parking lot. The place was closer than they had both thought when they had looked it up, and they probably passed by it on the regular, but as they had never needed to know where it was they had never noticed it before.

“You are aware that it’s barely eight degrees, right?“

“The sun looked warm enough to me,“ Vernon says, blinking out of the window into the glaring ball of gas perched in the cool blue sky.

Wonwoo sighs. 

“Alright, I’m not gonna be responsible for your wet head getting a cold. I have a trench coat in the back that you can wear.“

Vernon looks at him with an impish gleam in his eyes that Wonwoo can’t really read. He swallows.

“Is it black?“

*

Vernon looks comically tiny in Wonwoo’s rather large coat. Of course it’s black. Near everything Wonwoo owns is black, but Vernon did not have to ask as if he was going to laugh about every single fashion choice Wonwoo has ever made.

“You look like a flasher or something,“ he tells Vernon, who hurriedly undoes the knot he has just tied with the belt.

“I think we should focus on something else than our outfits today and get shopping instead,“ he says, making his way towards the entrance of the store.

Right. Cat… stuff. That’s why they’re here.

As soon as they enter the store, Wonwoo regrets not having made a list of the supplies he really needs. There are so many things here that he just knows he’ll either get overwhelmed or just take whatever he finds cute. Luckily, Vernon seems to have somewhat of a plan.

“So, from what I heard you say, a litter box is priority, right?“ he says with a look on his phone. “And I guess, like, a bed and some toys?“

“Yeah, sounds good,“ Wonwoo says. “Let’s go.“

There’s a nice girl that helps them out when they tell her that Wonwoo has three little rescues, and shows them the most appropriate objects to get. Apparently, most of the things will have to be upgraded once the cats get bigger, so Wonwoo decides to just grab the adult stuff right away to save future him some money. Also, if he does the math correctly, three baby cats kind of amount to one big cat. So it’s fine.

“Are you really considering getting that?“ Vernon asks when Wonwoo is standing in front of a gigantic cat tree with tiger print, staring at it with apathy.

“God, no, it’s hideous. It just reminds me of someone.“

Vernon stands next to him, giving the thing a once over. His hair is completely dry now, slightly curled against his forehead. He has a relaxed look on his face when he turns to look at Wonwoo, his eyes slightly shifting up.

“I think you should get the pink version of that one. It fits your whole aesthetic so well,“ he says absolutely deadpan.

“Yes, it’s indeed so tasteful, it would go great next to the heart-shaped, uuuh, ’Super Cleaner Cat Toilet Bowl’ we saw earlier,“ Wonwoo replies with the same straight face.

“It’s settled then.“ 

Vernon is the first one to break their act when Wonwoo actually reaches for the packaged tree, pulling him away with a snicker. Thanks to the store’s employees’ help, they gather all the things they need rather quickly and only hang around longer at the toys’ section, where everything seems to be made of feathers and little bells. The both of them keep decorating each other with whatever they can drape around the other’s neck or tuck behind their ears until they look like slightly emo Elton Johns. What doesn’t fall from their carefully stacked costumes gets bought, except for the squeaking alligator that seems to be from the dogs’ section.

When they go back to Wonwoo’s car they have acquired, aside from the plethora of toys, a litter box (not the Super Cleaner Cat Toilet Bowl) with the necessary litter to fill it with, a carrier for future vet visits because the wicker basket Vernon borrowed from Seokmin is just not going to cut it, a few bowls for food and water, and a plain, dark grey cat tree. Wonwoo had also insisted on buying a little hammock because he’d gushed about “how cute it would be when they slept in it, and also imagine all three of them in there! Vernon just imagine“ for at least five minutes until the younger had grabbed the package and stuffed it into their cart for him. He also thought of buying a few lint rollers, just in case.

Wonwoo and Vernon have to work around the bigger packages for a while because, of course, they did not consider the car’s size before buying all that stuff.

“We did not think this through,“ Vernon says when he finally sits in his seat which he had to push forward as far as it got.

Wonwoo’s position doesn’t look much better, but he still laughs at how Vernon manages to maintain his perfect posture in spite of the constricted space.

“No, we really did not.“

*

“Oooh, hey there.“ 

Wonwoo crouches down as soon as he opens his apartment door, leaving Vernon to lean over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of stumpy red tails.

“Did they already get bigger?“ he asks. The Earl comes running at them, falling over when she has nearly reached Wonwoo. The older one feels Vernon stepping over him to greet the third kitten, so he curls himself even tighter around Kimchi-Jjigae and Napoleon to let him pass.

“Hiii, babies,“ Wonwoo greets his kittens in a soft whisper, Napoleon just screaming at his face in glee and maybe disdain because she’s always hungry.

When he looks up, Vernon is playing with Earl Grey who chases his shoelaces around. His expression is entirely relaxed, joy spreading on his face with a smile that shows off his gums. Wonwoo ignores the cats that are attempting to jump onto his knees, looking at the scene in front of him before he shakes his head and stands back up to close the front door and take off his shoes. Seeing how Wonwoo isn’t playing with them anymore, the orange kittens turn their attention to Vernon, who falls on his ass with an “oof“ when he loses his balance due to the attack.

Wonwoo walks into the living room and throws the bag with the cat toys onto the sofa, his leather jacket following soon after. He bends backwards and hears his spine crack, probably all wonky from the cramped drive, and then carrying the boxes up.

“We left the stuff in front of your door, hyung,“ Vernon says from the living room entrance where he’s looking around the apartment, Wonwoo’s trench coat in his hand.

“Huh. Yeah, hold on, watch the cats so they don’t slip out,“ he replies as he takes the coat from Vernon and hangs it up on the rack he barely uses. He hears Vernon call the kittens to him while he quickly gets the packages and moves them into the living room as well.

Vernon is standing in front of his CD stand, looking at old The Cure and Dead Kennedys posters Wonwoo stole from his dad’s unfriendly colleague when he was sixteen, and the figurines stacked on his stereo. He turns around with a rip-off Slash bobble head Jun got him as a joke for his birthday two years ago, except the head falls off when Vernon starts to speak, causing the kittens to chase after it in a wild flurry of legs and colours.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,“ Vernon says in obvious shock, but Wonwoo just grins as he puts down the last box.

“Don’t stress it, I got it like that,“ he replies. Napoleon Bonaparte is near mutilating the head, but well. Fits the figure well enough, he thinks. Still, he pries it from her claws to save himself from Jun’s laments should the gift get any more damaged than it already was.

Vernon doesn’t touch anything on Wonwoo’s packed shelves or entertainment center anymore, just standing in the room and letting his eyes drift around with quiet interest instead, and looking around as well, Wonwoo can’t help but realise that his place mustn’t look too tidy in his guest’s eyes. He hasn’t really dusted or cleaned up in a while, his books are just stuffed where he could fit them, the plants Minghao keeps sneaking into his apartment are barely alive, and there’s a pile of jackets and coats on the beaten leather armchair he found at a flea market, creating an unkempt chaos.

But despite the mess, the evening sun shines in from his westward windows and bathes the dancer in a warm gleam, in a manner that sets calm to the room, peace in its commotion, like he was the missing center piece to an artwork all along. Wonwoo has an old, but intact Pentax with empty film laying decoratively on the coffee table, a Canon slr he bought with his first university paycheck hanging in his bedroom, and at least one of two old school digital cameras always at hand - he knows his photography, and he knows that the composition of this setting is more than perfect. He also knows that he wants to keep looking at Vernon, his light brown hair illuminated in a messy halo around his highlighted cheekbones, the slope of his nose, his neck as he turns his head to explore the room by sight alone. His sweater looks badly rendered, like it’s going to disappear in vapour if Wonwoo moves, and his shadow seems to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

But he’s not going to try and capture the moment on camera. Not this time. No, for now, he’ll stand back and just look. Let them meet again first.

Vernon turns to look at him with a nod of quiet affirmation, like the room is just to his liking.

“So, to set this up then?“

Wonwoo’s expression is controlled and levelled when he nods back. Vernon pushes his sleeves up his arms and joins him where he’s kneeling next to the boxes on the  ground.

“To work,“ Wonwoo replies with a small smile.

*

Building a cat tree when the cats are in the same room and have already decided that it is the perfect spot to nap, unfinished or not, is not ideal. When the whole construction nearly topples over, Wonwoo decides to grab the kittens and carry them into the bathroom to potty train them, while Vernon remains in the living room to build the thing on his own. The cats are exhilarated to have acquired the most perfect playground ever, since cat litter is just so perfect to throw around with one flick of a tiny paw, so Wonwoo has to set Kimchi-Jjigae on his shoulder, where he happily rubs his little face against Wonwoo’s, and trap a wriggling Napoleon on the toilet seat, which is still too high for her to jump down from. The Earl is the first one to actually calmly assess the situation of the litter box, digging around a bit with her hind legs and, finally, putting it to its intended use.

“She’s peeing!“ he shouts at no one in particular, showering the kitten in compliments for her superior intelligence and incredibly sharp mind before he shouts another “Oh shit she’s peeing!“ and quickly transfers Napoleon Bonaparte into the box. The bathroom tiles are only minimally soiled when the last one of the the trio has also finally relieved himself, of course only after Wonwoo has removed the two other cats before they could roll around in the litter, and while he cleans up the little mess they’ve made, he keeps up his instructions.

“This is now your toilet, guys, the floor is off limits starting today. I will excuse any accidents for a week at most because you’re new to the whole being alive business - no offence Napoleon - no I really didn’t mean it like that- now would you calm down so I can talk-“

Wonwoo has to wrap a towel around the kitten to hinder her from ripping his jeans open with her small, but vicious claws, and huffs out a snicker when she screams delightfully in her fluffy prison. Kimchi-Jjigae immediately goes to sit on her and starts purring, eliciting a soft “noooo“ from Wonwoo. They’re so goddamn CUTE.

Since Earl Grey is the last one to seem to listen to Wonwoo, he sighs and shakes his head at them.

“You’re bad students, but the people at the shop said that you’re gonna learn how to do this on your own, so I’m counting on you.“

The Earl climbs onto his knees and waits for him to reach out for her so she can push her head against his palm. Napoleon Bonaparte wriggles out of her burrito and decides that the bathroom isn’t where she wants to be anymore, sauntering into the living room. Her brother is content with staying where she has pushed him off and keeps napping on the towel.

“Welcome back,“ Wonwoo can hear Vernon say from the living room. He smiles down at the cat in his lap before he sets her down as well and stands up. His black long-sleeve seems pee-free, so he goes to see how far Vernon got by himself.

“Oh, you’re done already?“ he asks when he finds the tree set up and pushed between the two living room windows.

“Yeah, it wasn’t all that hard honestly,“ Vernon replies with a once-over at his work before he looks at Wonwoo. “And you? Were your teaching methods efficient?“

“I’m assuming that Kimchi-Jjigae is peeing again, so I’ll just think that yes.“

Vernon laughs at that, and then looks down to Napoleon who has started scratching at the new tree.

They both stare at her a bit, completely captivated by whatever the kitten does solely because she’s a cute fucking kitten and they feel like they are witnessing the greatest miracle of life, until they are pulled out of their contemplations when The Earl comes galloping out of the bathroom in full speed and disappears into Wonwoo’s bedroom.

He smiles at Vernon.

“Want a coffee?“

*

“Do you always carry around a knife with you to open your cat supply boxes?“

Wonwoo chuckles.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen me carve some anarchist propaganda into campus benches with that back when I wasn’t as emotionally controlled.“

Vernon furrows his brow in confusion.

“Now that I think about it, that makes way more sense. I’d just figured you were constantly rolling blunts, but you smelled way too normal for that.“

They both have to laugh at this comment. Yes, Wonwoo was in a rather rebellious phase during his earlier college days, but he still would have never smoked anything else other than good old nicotine on school grounds. His appearance had already starkly contrasted his eagerness to learn back then, but he’d luckily found a crowd that shared similar interests to him and wouldn’t judge him for being so studious pretty quickly.

Vernon hadn’t really been part of that group, but since they’d known each other from even before Wonwoo used to tutor him and his little sister in high school, Wonwoo had offered to introduce the younger to college life when he’d found out from his mother that he’d go to the same one. They’d just hung out from time to time, until Vernon’s texts had gotten rarer and he’d one day called to say that he wouldn’t be able to meet up after classes anymore, since he wouldn’t attend any longer. 

Wonwoo had felt pretty sick about that. He knew Vernon wasn’t really one to close off completely, so he’d spent a long while worrying that the real reason he didn’t tell him anything more about the situation was that he just didn’t want to see him, that Wonwoo had come off too strong and that the younger had started to find him weird, in short, that he himself was the reason Vernon had broken off contact little by little. He’d let it go after a while, especially when he’d heard from Joshua that Vernon had picked up ballet professionally.

He’d never really had any real closure, though.

“Why did you drop college, in the end? Didn’t you do graphic engineering or something? I thought that fit you well enough,“ he finally asks hesitantly.

Vernon sighs and wordlessly stares into his coffee. His expression is turning sour, nearly a frown, not something Wonwoo has ever seen on his usually so peaceful face, which immediately makes him regret he asked.

“Sorry if that’s a sensitive topic,“ he backtracks quickly. “We just never talked about it after… well, after you dropped out.“

Vernon shoots him a short look and proceeds to break off the chocolate chips on one of the cookies Wonwoo had put on the table.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just frustrating to think about how much of a slump I was in back there, and I guess I’m still a bit mad at myself for handling it the way I did. I was just really burned out really fast into my second year.“

Wonwoo leans back in his chair when Vernon doesn’t continue speaking for a while. This is honestly all news to him. For all he knew, his friend was having the most normal time a student could have, but he’d never realised that Vernon had had serious problems at university.

When Vernon speaks up again, he looks out the kitchen window. It’s gotten dark outside, and the street lamp that has started malfunctioning a while ago throws a distorting shine on his face every now and then. He looks edgy, now.

“I wanted to study something useful that would get me a rather safe future when highschool ended, and I was actually excited about what I’d chosen. I felt like it was a choice that my parents would approve of, too. It’s not like they pressured me to go to college or anything, I think they would have been fine with whatever I’d wanted to do, but I had this weird mindset that I had to grow up and start real life, with a career that would be reasonable for an adult.“

He sighs again, still staring into the darkness outside, or maybe at his own reflection on the dark kitchen window..

“I think I’d just started to feel bad for dancing ballet.“

Wonwoo looks up at that. Ever since he’s known Vernon, so probably middle school, ballet was part of his identity. Wonwoo has never actually seen him dance, he wasn’t a close enough friend to get invited to any events or anything, but he remembers that he always had to schedule his tutoring sessions around Vernon’s training. And the younger one had never expressed any shame in it, not that Wonwoo can recall.

“Did you stop? I thought you were still dancing in college.“

Vernon smiles briefly, before he takes a deep breath.

“I stopped right before junior year ended. I wanted to focus on finals, and the people in school made me feel like I was the odd one out for doing classical dance, along with the other stuff I had going on at the time. My parents were really confused about it, and the ballet teacher was set on not letting me go, but I had some issues that bothered me too much so I just dropped it completely. I wasn’t in the top five in our studio, and a career seemed unrealistic and ridiculous to me. I wasn’t…“ Vernon takes a break and shrugs after a while. “I just stopped. That was the end of it.“

While Vernon takes a sip of his coffee, all Wonwoo can do is stare at his own mug in his hands. Junior year of highschool… he’d already graduated back then, and made a point of cutting off ties with his hometown and old schoolmates by taking a gap year to Japan, so he’d never really tried to keep track of what was happening back there. Vernon was a friend he wasn’t worried about losing, since their mothers were quite close, so he’d never kept tighter contact than necessary. He’d just wanted to leave that time behind him, having faced enough troubles of his own. He’d never thought Vernon would have a hard time as well.

“College started off well enough,“ Vernon continues.

“We had some good times,“ Wonwoo replies with a smirk, eliciting a smile from the younger one.

“Yeah, it was cool, I liked hanging out with you. I felt grown up and like I was finally doing something important with my life, and I had fun studying design and all that, but it came crashing in pretty quickly. I had way more free time than what I was used to in high school, and I noticed that the time when I didn’t have anything better to do made me want to dance again, so I just took on a bigger workload to suppress that, until I kind of broke down under it. My mother said I should try to take dancing classes again, just to let off some steam, but then I felt pressured to compensate those with more studying again. At one point I barely went out anymore.“

Wonwoo nods at that.

“We did meet up way less than we used to,“ he says, to which Vernon seems to shrink into himself a bit. His shoulders are slightly drooped, his eyes still downcast, and Wonwoo wants to beat himself for making the younger talk about a time that has obviously been pretty dark.

Instead, he nudges the younger one’s leg with his foot until Vernon looks up at him, and gives him what he hopes is an encouraging grin.

“But here you are now, am I right? It got better.“

“It did,“ Vernon smiles. It’s an earnest kind of smile, one that straightens backs and is steeped in hope and confidence, one that lights up Vernon’s eyes, even if it’s barely wider than the smile the Girl With A Pearl Earring gifts her onlookers. Wonwoo can only feel ease at the sight, knowing that Vernon’s fire hasn’t died down and probably never will, that he got back up and will keep doing so.

“I dropped college and got good enough to be accepted into the national ballet school and earn money from dancing, so it did get better. And now here we are,“ he says.

Here they are indeed.

*

“What… are you doing.“

“Honestly, I have no idea.“

It’s not really a rarity for Seokmin to venture into the kitchen and actually make something more nutritious than, say, the instant pasta Vernon throws into the pot once a week to mix up the routine of the usually scheduled ramyeon, but to find him baking at 8 in the morning on a Sunday when he usually sleeps until at least 11 is still a bit surprising. Especially when it causes the smoke detector to set off.

“It wasn’t even the muffins that caught on fire, so I really don’t know what started to smoke,“ the maybe not so aspiring baker now says from where he’s perched on the counter, waving a paper plate in front of the aggressively beeping device.

“Those are supposed to be muffins?“ Vernon replies with a sceptical look on the deformed mass of dough on the baking tray. It’s way too liquid to even qualify as dough, but sure enough, there’s some coloured paper visible under all the chocolate.

Seokmin can’t even take offence at Vernon’s judging. 

“I might have added, uuuh. Too little flour? Or too much milk?“

The smoke detector stops lamenting when the older decisively rips the batteries out of it.

“Look, I wasn’t really awake. I just got excited about today,“ he says as he climbs back to the kitchen floor and looks into the oven with a sigh.

“Are you really that happy about me meeting Seungkwan again?“ Vernon asks as he puts on the kettle to prepare tea.

“Sure! The weather is finally good enough and you guys are basically my two best friends, it’s cool that we’ll get to hang out like this!“

Seokmin grabs a spatula to scrape at the burnt dough that must have run over the sides of the tray onto the bottom of the oven and mutters vexedly: “If my surprise snacks hadn’t gone up in literal smoke, that is.“

With a chuckle, Vernon pours his friend a coffee and hands it to him, squatting in front of the oven by his side.

“I’m sure the day can still be saved,“ he yawns, earning a grin.

“Only barely,“ Seokmin replies, taking a big swig of his coffee and immediately shouting out a curse as he burns his tongue.

The day can only get better, Vernon hopes.

Honestly, he feels like it’s gonna go really good.

*

They are waiting for Seungkwan in front of a Starbucks in Myeong-dong, which was the plan all along, but he has announced in a message that he’s going to be with them a bit later than originally scheduled and that “if he ever got out of this hell hole, he would let everybody that stood in the way of him and his iced americano know what real pain was“. Seokmin apparently knows what that means, and also knows what his friend usually orders, so he had rushed into the place on his own to get the coffee ready for Seungkwan’s arrival.

Vernon sees him first, his blond hair disheveled from the wind and wrapped into a light coat. He’s is bowing profusely at a lady he just nearly ran into before coming their way, only recognising the two friends when he’s already walking past them. Luckily, the older manages to grab him by the elbow before he runs into the store.

“Seokmin, you’re a life saver,“ Seungkwan sighs after inhaling half of his beverage in one go. Then he turns to Vernon with a more relaxed look than before when he’d just hurriedly greeted him.

“I’m sorry you always have to meet me when I’m at my absolute worst, I promise I’ll try to make a better impression from now on,“ he says with a laugh, to which Vernon can only grin.

“I didn’t think you were bad last time, so there’s no need to worry,“ he replies, ignoring Seokmin whining about that fateful first encounter next to him.

“Good, I’m glad. You’ll have to excuse me, though, because my morning was shit and I just need to vent for a bit.“

Seokmin takes that as his cue to grab the paper bag Vernon had been holding so far and hold it open for Seungkwan to look into.

“We bought muffins, so take your time.“

As they set off to wander through the streets, which are busy enough on a sunny Sunday when the shops are open because this is the middle of Seoul and that’s how capitalism works, the blonde lets out such a heavy sigh that some guy even turns his head to look.

“Again, you are literally saving this day. I had to comfort my roommate because her boyfriend was cheating on her, again, but neither of us knew that because he let it slip that it’s not even the first time he sleeps with some other girl, and I’ve been sitting through crying fits and angry phone calls since 7am with just some grapes in my stomach.“

Both Vernon and Seokmin make a disapproving noise at that, eliciting a chuckle from their friend.

“Straight men,“ he says with a shake of his head and a sip of his coffee. “I sure hope I won’t have to deal with any more of them today.“

Seokmin gives a playful little gasp at that and exclaims: “How would you know if Vernon isn’t straight? For all you know, you could be insulting him right to his face,“ which earns him half an indignant look from the mentioned himself, before his attention is once again turned to the shorter man.

“For my own sake, I’d just assumed he wasn’t,“ Seungkwan says with a fleeting, but so incredibly confident look at Vernon. The younger definitely notices the gleam of challenge in it, the notion that Seungkwan is fully aware of the boundaries he may just have overstepped, and his complete determination to carry on with these allusions without any reserve.

It’s refreshing. Seungkwan is daring and bold, and Vernon has absolutely no objections against his attitude.

So he just smiles at Seungkwan, rewarded with a fine dust of red on the blond’s cheeks when he understands the invitation that smile was, Seokmin just uttering a little “oh“ in the background.

Vernon was right to predict that the day is going to be good.

*

They don’t end up going all the way to Namsan Park like Seokmin suggested they could, because as much as the weather invites to walk by the university where they have to be confronted with, well, university, to get into the park and then sit in the humid grass or on a cold bench somewhere for a while, it is just as fitting for a non-committal stroll through the Seoul streets that are bustling with life, sounds, and smells of the various food stands and cafes. 

Vernon can’t say that he’s in this part of the city very often, since his own school and the apartment are located in a different district where he can find all he needs in the smaller shops where Seokmin knows the owners by name. There isn’t really any reason for him not to take the bus to head into the university district or even Itaewon, but he’s just so much more comfortable with the places he can reach within fifteen minutes of walking or less. 

However, finding himself in the bigger, fuller streets again, especially in this company, he doesn’t mind the trip at all. The teokbokki just tastes different when it comes from an ahjumma sitting next to an obvious sex shop trying very hard to pass as not a sex shop - the atmosphere is just different here. The vibes coming from the group of people clothed in complete monochrome outfits are more carefree, more liberated when a guy pushes a shopping cart with tons of pristine poodles past them.

No, he really doesn’t mind at all.

“So, since when have you and Seokmin been living together? You were never in any of our performing arts courses, because I would have remembered you, so how do you even know each other if not through school?“

“Basically Seokmin whining about needing a new roommate to Kim Mingyu, who then whined about the whining to a friend who linked me up with him when I couldn’t stay in student housing anymore,“ Vernon replies, which prompts “Of course Mingyu would be involved“ as an answer, paired with his roommate's giggling.

“I didn’t whine that hard, Wonwoo-hyung was present when my first roommate left, so he knew about it anyways and just told you one day when I nearly had to drop the apartment,“ the eldest butts in, but Seungkwan meaningfully rolls his eyes at Vernon because Seokmin most definitely did cause a chain reaction of complaints that somehow ended up reaching Vernon.

“Why couldn’t you stay in the university dorms tho? Aren’t they, like, really good?“ Seungkwan inquires, receiving a small shrug from Vernon.

“I dropped out,“ he simply offers, but it doesn’t seems like the shorter is going to dig for any further explanation as he just exclaims “No way, are you a delinquent then?“ in glee. Vernon replies ’yes’ with the straightest face he can manage while Seokmin practically howls with laughter at the idea. Conversation is easy like that with Seungkwan, as it never takes the expected path and leads into unburdened places where Vernon doesn’t need to worry about coming off as gloomy or stand-offish. 

The fact that all three of them work and learn in pretty similar areas also majorly helps out to keep their talking everflowing. The two music majors share stories from their department that Vernon has already heard before, but that are just so much more captivating and funny when Seungkwan tells them (seriously, his impressions are spot on - Vernon has met some of the people he is imitating, and he can’t help but laugh at the detailed renditions of voice cracks and spilled drinks), and they end up talking about their respective projects, the endless training, and the stupid assignments they need to hand in on on top of the field work.

Which leads them into a side-street charity shop where Seokmin has to gather his own costume props for a musical production of Dear Evan Hansen as a ’testing of his general sense of making directional choices‘ (“I’m a singer! A performer! I am literally singing as Evan Hansen and the costuming props I chose will be switched out with the official ones anyways! This is useless!“), causing the two younger men to wander through aisles of outdated dress shirts and shelves stocked with leather handbags and tarnished jewellery, picking out old toys and cheap romance books out of boxes. Their rummaging and joking actually reminds Vernon of his and Wonwoo’s antics in the pet supplies’ store the day before, except the two of them talk a whole lot more while they embellish each other with their findings.

“Do you have to prepare performances like Seokmin, too?“ Vernon asks as he places a fedora of the most repulsive brown on Seungkwan’s head, who promptly adds gigantic clip-on earrings to the look.

“Nah,“ the older replies, “I can’t act to save my life. Performance is really cool when I only have to sing and make the crowd go wild, but I’m better at variety shows than scripted ones. I’m working a lot in classical choirs right now, so I do have to back up in operas from time to time, but I’m trying to write my own stuff at the moment. Not that easy tho.“ Seungkwan throws a majorly oversized suit jacket with a really odd pattern in navy and forrest green around Vernon’s shoulders and frowns. 

“How do you make every single thing in here work, you literally look perfect,“ he mutters. When he notices Vernon’s slight smile and the way he hums with a little question in his pitch, he faintly blushes and adds a hasty “in the worst clothes“. The taller can’t help but smile even wider at this reaction, pushing his arms through the jacket’s sleeves and checking himself out in the mirror. He finds rectangle-shaped glasses with blue tinted lenses, which slide down to the tip of his nose, and puts on a random bowler hat with a dusty feather, before he asks Seungkwan what music he listens to.

The blonde stands still for a while, looking past Vernon like he’s reflecting real hard on the question, then points to the ceiling of the little shop.

“Actually, the stuff they’ve been playing here is right up my alley. I listen to the great arias and all that jazz in my free time, of course, but with this I can just belt without worrying about my technique,“ he says with a smile.

As if that would help him visualise Seungkwan’s music taste in any way, Vernon actually looks up to where he pointed while he consciously listens to the song sounding over the old speakers stacked into some odd corners of the room. When he recognises ’Shock’ by Beast, he looks back to Seungkwan in surprise.

“What did you expect? Justin Bieber?“ the smaller laughs when he catches Vernon’s expression. “It’s mostly first and second generation Kpop, especially the old girl groups, and then of course the western divas.“

The song near seamlessly shifts into the Spice Girls’ Say You’ll Be There, prompting Seungkwan to grin widely.

“See? That’s what gets me going,“ he says, plucking a pink feather boa from the clothing rack next to him and swinging it most dramatically around his neck. When one end lands in Vernon’s face and gets him choking from the dust that swirls up, he starts apologising profusely, but soon joins in to the younger’s muffled laughter. 

With the boa wrapped around the both of them, they set out to find Seokmin, all the while talking about their respective music tastes.

“So only the classic American divas then? Beyoncé and Houston?“ Vernon asks, skipping over a box packed with packaged tin robots.

“Well, Kelly and Adele are in there, too, of course, and Lorde is in the close ranks, if she can count as a diva.“

“What about Winehouse?“

“Oh without a doubt, she’s legendary. H.E.R and Lizzo make me feel some great stuff, too.“

Vernon laughs at the way Seungkwan expresses himself, and then quickly steadies him by the shoulder when he suddenly trips over a mannequin arm. 

“Thanks, but also what the fuck,“ Seungkwan mumbles, and then looks up at Vernon.

They are standing toe to toe in the narrow aisle, staring wordlessly at each other.

Considering the tension built up around them, as well as the fact that they have only really met each other a few hours ago, it would be considered too close, but the proximity is far from being uncomfortable. ’Wow’ by BTOB is now playing in the background, and Vernon doesn’t miss the faint blush creeping onto Seungkwan’s cheeks. His blonde hair is sticking slightly to his forehead under the fedora, and his soft eyes seem to get bigger by the second. All of a sudden, his expression has become innocent and earnest, dropping all the playfulness he had been carrying himself with throughout the day. The shift of his attitude makes Vernon curious and lures him in, posing so many questions that he is more than willing to find answers to.

“Shit, there you guys are!“

The moment is broken when Seokmin erupts from a passage hidden by shelves next to them, causing Seungkwan to startle and cuss at his friend while Vernon merely greets him with a simple ’oh hey’. The taller man has a paper bag filled to the brim with shirts and what seems to be a toy cast, wearing a wild look in his eyes that now rest upon the appearance of his friends.

“You guys look snazzy, what have you been up to?“

As the feather boa has slipped from Vernon’s shoulder, Seungkwan flips it around himself again and says with regained confidence: “We’re joining the Spice Girls, you may join if you want,“ and Vernon adds: “Filling in for Posh Spice if you will,“ which makes the shorter giggle while Seokmin pouts about having to prepare his musical debut instead of getting the chance to join the greatest girl group that ever graced Europe in the 2000’s.

“Who’s your favourite in the band?“ Seungkwan asks when the trio leaves the shop and slowly starts to exit the bustling areas of downtown Seoul that are starting to fill up with the promise of a lavish nightlife. The flashy outfits have been left behind, alongside with the awkward atmosphere that had set in when the eldest busted into their… well. Moment? 

“I, as per usual, have to say Ginger Spice, she’s fun and she looks great,“ Seokmin answers decisively, which prompts an indignant “I can’t believe you“ from his fellow student, who turns around to Vernon expectantly.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I don’t really check up on them that much,“ he offers as a reply, but none of the performance majors are willing to accept his answer.

“Come on Vernon, this is really important,“ Seungkwan says. “We’ve been having this discussion for ages now and no one in our department seems to have educated themselves on this topic so they can’t solve this for us.“

“I’d like to say that he is exaggerating,“ Seokmin adds, “but he’s been bothering me with it for so long that I need this argument to end in my favour.“

Vernon looks at his friends, desperately digging around in his memories for the names he knows he heard his mom drop before.

“Well, from what I can remember, Mel B was pretty cool?“

Seokmin shouts out a desperate “Noooooooo“, which only gets ignored because there are louder people on the streets at this time of nearly night, while Seungkwan hollers “And it’s a win for Scary Spice!“, underlined with fist pumps into the air. 

“Thank you for the very satisfactory insight into your tastes,“ he directs at Vernon with a perfectly blithe grin.

“My pleasure,“ he simply retorts, blending out Seokmin’s fake gagging noises next to them to smile honestly at Seungkwan. 

“It’s really a shame you can’t stay to come into the pub with us because you start your day at five in the morning tomorrow,“ the eldest loudly interrupts as he pushes in between the younger pair.

“That’s some dedication,“ Seungkwan whistles, and then taps Vernon on the shoulder when they come to a stop at the bus station to send the youngest home. “Really a shame though.“

In the orange light of the street lamps, illuminated by the blinking lights of the advertisements on the buildings and the decorative garlands around them, Seungkwan is unmissable as the brightest beacon among them, standing on the side of the road. It might just be caused by the turns his day has taken, ignited by the fact that he is lightheaded from the taste of freedom he experienced while spending these hours in the full Seoul streets, but Vernon feels sure that if he were to lean against the shorter this instant, Seungkwan would push him back up with immeasurable force. Nothing in the world can knock him down, his posture expresses that clearly, and Vernon feels invigorated by his confidence.

Seokmin points at the bus to their apartment coming closer, and gives Vernon a firm hug before he can get on the bus.

“As annoyingly flirty as you guys were being, I really wish you could stay out with us,“ he tells his friend quietly, to which Vernon can only smile softly.

“Don’t worry, I doubt this was our only chance to hang out,“ he replies. 

Over Seokmin’s shoulder, he holds Seungkwan’s look until he steps unto the bus and gives the remaining two a short wave goodbye. With the way he stares at him intently, it is more than clear that they have not seen each other for the last time.

Chapter Text

“Jack, please, I’m only an elected official here, I can’t make decisions by myself!“

Vernon shuts the door behind him and sets his bags down with a huff. Who knew cans of coconut milk, curry paste and fermented beans would be so heavy.

“Jack! Answer me - Yaaaaaaaaargh!“

“Yaaaaargh,“ comes simultaneously to Halloween Town’s mayor’s complaint from the next room over.

“Are you watching it again?“ Vernon asks as he trots into the kitchen to put all of his roommate’s requested groceries on the counter.

“Hmm,“ Seokmin replies very quietly. When Vernon joins his roommate in the living room he can see that his faint response was mainly caused by the handful of popcorn Seokmin is chewing on right now. As he sees how Vernon is looking at the screen where the mayor further complains, he chews faster and swallows his snack with a cough.

“You want me to pause it so we can watch it together? I can heat up the rest of yesterday’s chilli when you take your bath so we can eat it during the movie.“

Vernon sighs. That chilli is GOOD, and it somehow tastes even better when it’s the next day’s leftovers, plus last time Seokmin watched The Nightmare Before Christmas (so… two days ago) Vernon had missed near all of it because he had an impromptu overtime at work. But he kind of has to take care of his gear and put his good tights to the wash before next Monday because the costuming department is going to make checks on their inventory and he can’t show up with his old training slippers nearly falling apart.

Seokmin is looking at him expectantly.

It is only Thursday. He has plenty of time to look over his stuff. And he really needs to relax after the rough week behind him.

“Okay yeah, give me twenty minutes.“

*

Vernon actually takes nearly half an hour in the bathroom before he joins Seokmin in front of the television. He feels sore all over, which has already become his usual state ages ago, but this time it’s more specific pain. One of his co-dancers had been sick at practice and he had to fill in his role so the dance partner could keep up her own training, but it had been a while since Vernon last had to lift girls, so now his shoulder hurts slightly more than usual. Good thing his roommate is well accustomed to the sticky-hot-patches-routine.

“You good?“, Seokmin asks when Vernon slides his hoody back over his torso and rolls his shoulders with a groan. “I thought you started working out again so you were prepared for a routine with that one guy in your group, how come you got hurt?“

The dancer carefully sinks back into the couch with his bowl of chilli and turns on the movie that Seokmin has rewinded for him.

“I’m more used to Chan’s weight and I went ahead and nearly threw Bora into the ceiling because I forgot to adjust my technique,“ he explains himself. “Good thing she’s more professional than me though because that duet recital is next week and if I had ruined it for her, Jeonghan and Madame Seo would have banned me from the parquet for a month at least.“

Seokmin giggles next to him at the image the younger just painted, then pauses so the two of them can simultaneously recite “Nice work, Bone Daddy“ along with the movie.

“Chan is so tiny tho, isn’t he super light himself?“

“Compared to girls even smaller with zero fat on their bodies? It’s a noticeable difference,“ Vernon retorts. He has to stop talking because the spoonful of chilli he just shoved into his mouth threatens to scald its insides so he has to breathe and inhale around it like a backwards dragon. Of course Seokmin soon has to do the same when he chokes on his own food while laughing at Vernon. That’s dinner in their living arrangement for you: mostly calm eating until one of them swallows wrong and gets poked fun at by the other. The younger still has enough mercy to pat Seokmin on the back so he doesn’t die before they finish their food in a momentary truce.

“How was work today?“ Vernon asks later while his hyung massages his shoulder. Jack Skellington is talking over Sally and trying on his white beard on the tv screen. “First full rehearsal was today, right?“

Seokmin’s eyes light up. “Man it was amazing,“ he gushes. “Everybody was so professional and super great guidance, and the director praised me so often, it was crazy how nice she was to me.“

“Deserved,“ Vernon replies, “You’re by far the most talented singer I hang out with.“

Seokmin laughs earnestly, even if he can’t hide his blush at the compliment.

“You hang out with Seungkwan, too, and he’s amazing too!“ he replies, to which Vernon gives a chuckle and shrugs.

“I haven’t heard him sing yet, so I can confidently say that you sound better, especially in the shower,“ he replies.

“Now that sounds wrong,“ Seokmin exclaims, causing the younger to burst out laughing. 

“My worms!“ Oogie Boogie laments in his gambling cave of horrors while the two friends nearly fall off the couch.

*

The chance to hear Seungkwan sing comes soon enough. In fact, right the next day. 

When Vernon comes back from evening training, the blonde comes out of their kitchen holding the steaming kettle, flushing red immediately when he interrupts his belting the top-charting girl group song, without the actual tune playing.

“I made tea but I forgot to add water“, he tells Vernon in lieu of a proper greeting, then adds a little wave with both hands, causing the hot water in the kettle to splash around menacingly. “Hi.“

“Hi,“ Vernon replies with a smile, putting on his slippers to move into the bathroom. “Did you come with Seokmin?“ 

It’s not even the first time Seungkwan hangs out at their place since their trip to the seoulite highlife. Monday for example he’d come over after a doctor’s appointment to kill a few hours before he and Seokmin had to go to a choir event together, and on Wednesday Vernon had received a text from his roommate asking where his sister’s photo album was so he could show Seungkwan a very specific picture of Seokmin wearing Vernon’s tights and leotard with the dancer losing it in the background. It was very clear that Vernon would see Seungkwan more often now, but he wasn’t unhappy with that in the slightest. They got along well and the three of them always had a good time together, and Vernon just generally liked those moments when Seungkwan would look at him in the middle of a conversation and stutter around a smile when he noticed him looking back.

“I actually broke into the place when Seokmin was on the toilet, he doesn’t even know I’m here,“ Seungkwan replies and fills his mug on the coffee table.

“I do know, and you better delete the door’s passcode!“ the eldest shouts from his bedroom.

“Why can’t he keep it tho?“ Vernon calls back, causing the blonde next to him to choke on his tea.

“I don’t trust him with it,“ Seokmin answers, to which Seungkwan says “I mean, that’s fair enough, I wouldn’t trust myself with it either if I had constant possible access to your couch, and my roommates really annoy me.“

“That bad?“ Vernon asks, and the shorter sighs deeply while he follows Vernon to his room where the dancer puts away his training bag to grab a change of clothes instead, chosing Post Malone's Stoney record from his shelf in passing.

“It’s the other one this time, but luckily no boys are involved. She’s still making a whole exhausting drama over not being able to do any chores in the house because ’her marketing courses are just so time consuming’ when I literally watched her drop out of those, so now she makes up a bunch of other excuses instead of just telling us what the actual problem is,“ Seungkwan starts his rant, encouraged by a soft hum from Vernon. When he goes into the bathroom to prepare his bath, the older simply sits down on the toilet lid and continues talking, sipping from his tea while Vernon sets the b-side of the LP onto his record player and turns on the tap of the bathtub. The conversation soon deviates from Seungkwan’s laments to the comparison of neighbours, to which Vernon can add his fair share of stories about the middle aged man that apparently lives exactly above them and regularly tries to unlock their door at four in the morning when he comes back from the pub. 

When the dancer is about to decide if he should just take his shirt off without care of the blonde’s presence as the tub is nearly filled, Seungkwan ends their conversation himself and lets Vernon take his bath alone. 

As the last song on the record fades out, Vernon finds his friends sitting in the living room with Chinese take out on the table, discussing the singing techniques of other members of their choir and their classes while Hocus Pocus plays on the tv screen. 

“I got us food,“ Seokmin shouts without looking at Vernon, but Seungkwan turns around to flash a bright smile at Vernon that unexpectedly hits him. If he wasn’t still feeling hot from the bath, he is sure he would blush now, but Seungkwan doesn’t notice and turns back to Seokmin while Vernon takes a deep breath. The blonde definitely feels comfortable in their home, and Vernon has no trouble admitting he likes seeing him that way.

*

“I… might… die if we keep this up,“ Jeonghan gasps.

“Hyung, you were the one who said we needed to work on our bodies more! I don’t suffer because I want to,“ Chan retorts, stumbling to his locker to pull out his water bottle.

“Woah, this low motivation to commitment is gonna cost you your leading position when I snitch you out to Madame- hello what the fuck??“

Some men turn around to look at Jeonghan who is kneeling on the floor and shooting daggers at Vernon who can barely stop himself from giggling. Chan on the other hand laughs so hard that he nearly joins his sunbae on the ground, but he quickly stops himself with a grimace and leans on his thighs.

“Asshole, why did you push me over?“ 

Jeonghan expresses his anger at Vernon with a weak punch to his shin, but his knuckles are so damn sharp that the younger still jumps back with a whine.

“And why are you still so okay! We pushed the exact same weights, I don’t understand you and your weird slim buff body,“ Jeonghan continues.

“He’s right,“ Chan says, finally breathing regularly again. “You’re way to good at this for the way your arms disappear in you clothes.“

“You guys are exaggerating, I just know how to pace myself and to not put on more weight than I am prepared for,“ Vernon replies. “And I didn’t push you over, you just kinda fell when I poked your arm, hyung.“

“Which proves my point. You’ve got superstrength, there’s no other explanation. I’m dying.“

Jeonghan is laying in starfish position on the ground while Chan is getting changed right next to him without any care, yelping when he accidentally pushes his gym bag from the bench and narrowly misses the eldest’s face. 

While the two of them fuss, Vernon stretches one last time before taking his own backpack out of his locker. They all go to the gym together once a week, after practice, but it’s true that he has his own home workout routine, albeit a rather short one that mostly blends in with his daily yoga stretching. As a ballet dancer, all he can really train in his bedroom is his core strength, while he spends most of his time in the gym on the treadmill to keep his endurance and stamina in shape. However, doing jump ropes and the occasional 500 meters on the rowers for his legs and arms is also necessary if he wants to be able to keep his place in the studio, even though the toll it takes on his muscles is horrendous.

When he lets out a long sigh, Jeonghan suddenly appears next to him and claps down his hand on Vernon’s back, happily exclaiming “So it did affect you! You suffer, too!“

“Ow, of course I do, but in silence!“

“This feels like a personal attack, Chan is this a personal attack?“

“For legal reasons I am not answering that.“

“Oh come on, I don’t whine that much!“

Vernon grins. Out of the three of them, he maybe has the most raw strength, but he is in no way as stable and flexible as Jeonghan, and his stamina pales in comparison to the hours Chan can put into his practice and choreographies. His own jumps are high for a dancer in general, but the younger one’s are extraordinary taking his age and height into account, and Vernon’s grands jetés are never going to be as straight as Jeonghan’s, even if they are longer. However, working together like they do helps him feel comfortable in the studio and eases the brutal rivalry he had faced when he had first restarted ballet. Of course, they are still competitors for the leading roles in the biggest productions. But Vernon is more than honest when he says that he is happy for his friends when they succeed. In some way, he cheers for them more than he hopes to be cheered on himself. Their talents deserve the most, after all.

Vernon looks at the time. He promised to help Seokmin out with a presentation, and if he manages to catch the next bus he’ll be home early enough to take care of his sore muscles before his roommate comes back. However, while he gathers his things to head to the bus stop, his phone chimes with a notification from his friend.

“It’s already getting dark so early,“ Chan complains as the three step outside of the gym, and Vernon looks up from his screen just in time to see the street lamps turn on one by one.

“Why, are you scared?“, Jeonghan teases the youngest. “These are perfect conditions for some trick-or-treating though, I always go with my nieces,“ he adds after cackling about Chan’s pouting.

“That’s cool, I haven’t gone in ages,“ Vernon replies, and Chan announces: “I only eat the candy I bought for myself like a self respecting person, who knows what those ahjummas try to feed you.“

“You told me you were having a club tour with your friends, how is that safer,“ Vernon argues.

“Well I am also getting properly wasted after I’ve put three sugar-crazed five year olds to bed, no way this is gonna be the end of my day. Seungcheol owes me a bunch of drinks anyways so we’re going to be busy in Itaewon. Maybe we’ll see each other there, Chan!“ 

“God, I hope not,“ the youngest replies. “You’re scary when you’re drunk, hyung.“

“Scary hot!“, Jeonghan shouts. They have reached the bus stop now, and fair enough, Vernon’s bus is already visible at the corner of the block.

“And do you have any plans for Halloween?“ Chan asks him.

With a smile on his face, Vernon just waves his illuminated phone where Seokmin’s chat is still open.

“Apparently, I do now.“

*

“Oh, so you invited Vernon, too? That’s amazing, we’re gonna have the time of our lives. Music department is full of rich snobs but the alcohol they buy humbles them a great deal.“

Four days later, Seungkwan is laying sprawled on the sofa, sheet music piled on his torso, while Seokmin is scribbling notes into a book and asking for technical pointers. 

“You literally wanted me to ask him,“ Seokmin mumbles. “What was our harmony before the last canon in Os Justi again? It always fucks me up.“

Seungkwan bolts upright immediately and starts the part for the older to join in. They only sing for about six seconds before Seokmin interrupts them with a quick “Okay got it“ and frantically jots down annotations next to the lyrics.

“This assignment is so weird, I love it,“ Seungkwan says, regaining his horizontal position.

“You also don’t have to deal with three different vocal positions over the course of one week.“

“I also took care of my basic technique when I was a freshman and didn’t run around campus looking to hook up with art majors so now I don’t have troubles transposing keys.“

Vernon has been observing this for nearly an hour now. He was able to leave work early because his boss had a surprise to plan for his wedding anniversary, and when Seokmin came home from uni with Seungkwan and sat down in the living room as to not annoy the neighbour next to his own bedroom, Vernon had just decided to join them with his switch to finally continue playing Breath Of The Wild. It turned out, though, that Seungkwan was a very skilled multitasker, which allowed him to chat with Vernon while doing his homework and singing a plethora of different songs with Seokmin like it was his easiest feat. In this hour, Vernon has found out that Bach was one of the most hated composers among their class because he was “incredibly overplayed and repetitive just to show off the same bombastic run in seven different concerti“, and while Seungkwan agreed with Vernon that Adventure Time was one of the best cartoons ever created, he actually preferred Gravity Falls. Still, both of them are on the same page that Marceline is cooler than Marshall Lee, but Prince Gumball’s design is definitely superior to the original version (“He’s a pink boy, gotta love that,“ Vernon had said, soliciting a groan from Seokmin because could he get any more obvious? When Seungkwan is wearing a soft pink hoodie as they are speaking??)

Eventually, Vernon is sent to his room so the two students don’t have to spend three more unnecessary hours on their work. He can still hear his friends bicker though. And sing.

Seokmin was right - Seungkwan is an incredible singer. Vernon has heard him sing along and occasionally belt to whatever played on the radio the last time he saw him, which is mainly a show of power because his voice is really something. However, his tone becomes so much more refined and piercing with how clear it rings when he sings their pieces for school. It is clear that Seungkwan works a lot on his abilities, and whichever way he uses his vocals chords, the younger can only sit back and listen in amazement.

Right now though he is getting too distracted, so Vernon turns on his own music to finally let Link climb this cliff he has been standing in front of for nearly 20 minutes. He actually comes pretty far, and only gets interrupted when his phone announces a text on his bed.

He barely notices that it has already become dark outside when he sees that Wonwoo messaged him. It’s a picture of Kimchi Jjigae wearing a little cape with a simple ghost emoji as caption, soon followed by a very blurry foto in which Vernon can faintly recognise Wonwoo himself and an orange stripe escaping the frame.

Jeon Wonwoo

The modelling career is definitely lost on Napoleon

Vernon chuckles. Seokmin is notifying him in a different text that he is making dinner soon, so he sets his console aside to get into more comfortable clothes while singing along to Willow Smith and replying to Wonwoo’s text.

vernon

maybe more into surrealism?

kimchi jjigae looks terrifyingly cute tho

Jeon Wonwoo

I made Napoleon wear antennas but she didn’t like them :-(

Got offended by the reminder that her reign isn’t universal

Another picture is sent, this time showing Earl Grey holding a big plastic spider between her little fangs, which Vernon coos at in adoration. The picture was obviously taken in selfie mode, as part of Wonwoo’s face is peeking into the camera, showing his black hair falling over his forehead in a soft mess. Vernon notices that the older is wearing glasses, which he has not seen him do since high school, and his face looks more relaxed this way, even if he is still wearing his dark eye pencil. He wonders just how bad his eyesight his, and if his unapproachable aura is really just caused by his blindness forcing him to squint all the time. 

vernon

what is the earl’s plan to get rid of house pests?

Jeon Wonwoo

Sadly to puke into the bathroom after she eats them

She put a dead moth on my pillow the other day, it was pretty but dead :-(

While Vernon takes off his button-up shirt to throw over a softer hoody, the playlist shifts to Amy Winehouse. He’s still giggling quietly about how Wonwoo uses noses in his emojis when the door swings open and Seungkwan steps into his room, coming to a stop when he realises Vernon’s half undressed state.

“Uuuh, sorry,“ he stutters and just watches as Vernon pulls his hoody all the way down hurriedly.

“Are we eating?“ Vernon asks quickly, reaching for his phone to turn off the music. Wonwoo sent more cat pictures, he’s going to look at them later.

“Wh- Yeah, that’s why I came in,“ Seungkwan replies.

“Masculine within you spin a spell, I think you’d wear me well,“ Amy decides to sing in that exact instant, causing Vernon to take a sharp breath at the suggestiveness.

When he looks up, he can see that the lyrics don’t seem to have been lost on the blonde either. With wide eyes he rips his gaze away from the dancer, furiously blushing and biting at his lower lip.

“I keep coming in at the worst moment’s, don’t I?“ he says, sounding slightly out of breath while the song keeps serenading the magic of sexual tension. Vernon is not above it to blush a bit himself.

He doesn’t really mind, honestly. These awkward situations they tangle themselves in, that is. Seungkwan is cute when he acts flustered like that, so he quietly replies: “Depends on how you look at it.“ 

He finally turns the music off, and all that is left is to observe as the blonde reacts.

*

Something crashes. Like, really loudly, accompanied by some helpless noises and some “oops“es and “hold on“s.

“Soonyoung I swear to fucking god, touch one more thing in my apartment and I will END you!“

Wonwoo takes a quick peek into Jihoon’s bedroom, where he finds Soonyoung fixing the mess he created with a sheepish grin, and joins the youngest in their trio where he is lacing his boots in front of the door.

“What was it,“ he sighs, not even a question, as he gives an especially hard tug at the shoelace.

“Your keyboard.“

“My- sorry, my what??“, Jihoon roars and bolts upright, already tugging at his shoe to most likely throw it at Soonyoung.

“Whatever he told you, please don’t kill me!“ the accused frantically shouts back. “It was just the thing your piano is on, nothing broke!“

Jihoon is fuming, so Wonwoo assures him that nothing did, indeed, break, and that his room is just a bit messier now than it was before. The shorter is still visibly annoyed, so he calls out for Soonyoung to hurry up or they’ll leave without him.

“You took too long in the bathroom, it’s entirely your fault,“ Soonyoung pouts when he finally joins them in the entrance.

“It takes time to look this rocking sexy,“ Wonwoo replies, barely able to stifle his laugh as Jihoon groans next to him when he sees their friend’s getup.

“You are so lucky Wonwoo agreed to come with us, no begging in the world would have gotten me to take you with to this party,“ he hisses as Soonyoung slips into his shoes and throws over a blazer with tiger print. 

“Don’t sweat it too much,“ Wonwoo says. “Everybody is going to be drunk off their asses in an hour and won’t even care about what any of us is wearing.“

“I’m gonna need to get drunker, too,“ Jihoon mumbles, and Soonyoung points at Wonwoo who is currently downing the last of his whiskey.

“You could have just pregamed, like anyone else would do on Halloween,“ he says, unlocking the door to skip outside. “Fuck it's cold!“

The three of them are all pretty squiffy, and even Jihoon drank his fair share, but his alcohol tolerance is remarkably higher than Soonyoung’s, who has nearly reached the dangerous stage of “I need to hug Wonwoo’s arm at all times or the world will fall apart“.

Wonwoo himself did not drink as much yet, because getting a sharp eye with liquid eyeliner is already hard enough sober, and he generally goes for the simplest look there is, if he ever even applies it. Tonight though he put more time into his makeup, taking care of properly blending his eyeshadow and adding a few more extra lines than usual on his lower lid. He also styled his hair back with some gel, which he usually never bothers to do, and added the spikier piercings he never wears (especially not now that he lives with cats who are just fascinated by his piercings and try as hard as they can to get any hold of them). When Jihoon had looked at him, he had described him as an “even hotter James Dean, but way way darker“. It was probably just the leather jacket and the fact that you could for once see Wonwoo’s forehead that created this association, but he still gave his friend credit for trying.

“No one is going to realise who you are supposed to be, by the way,“ he tells Jihoon while they are walking to some rich person’s place from the bus stop they just got out at.

“I keep telling you, Wonwoo, everybody knows Django Unchained! Why would they not know the main character!“

“You are Asian!“ Soonyoung offers as a flaw in his friend’s costume, avoiding a pole on the sidewalk and quickly jumping back with a laugh when a car passes by and honks.

“At least I didn’t draw cat whiskers on my face and threw on orange pants,“ the smaller retorts, to which Soonyoung exclaims “It’s tiger whiskers! Respect the drip, Jihoon!“

“Is this it?“ Wonwoo interrupts his friends, coming to a halt in front of an open gate which is decorated with fake spiderwebs and glowing ghosts all over.

“Oh yeah, seems to be,“ Jihoon answers after checking his phone. “God damn, can’t wait to have a proper conversation with Chanyeol-sunbae tonight, this guy pitched an idea to me last week and then completely dipped.“

“Why would you talk about work at a party, I bet this dude is already hammered,“ Soonyoung says, before he stops himself to gasp at the house in front of them and shout “This is a whole ass mansion, what the hell!“

Jihoon sighs.

“Put your fangs in, pretty boy,“ he tells Wonwoo. “You’re gonna need them.“

*

Vampires are hot. That is universally known. So it is no surprise that a good amount of girls and, luckily, some guys have chatted him up by the time Wonwoo has to take the fake teeth out, barely forty minutes after they arrived. Everybody thinks he’s smouldering sexily when he’s just trying to not lose his friends in the dim light, and one grin reveals his pointy pearly whites to make all surrounding attendants swoon. The party loves him.

Wonwoo was actually quite surprised to see how serious the dressing up part is being taken. When Jihoon had told him there was a dress code, he’d just taken the opportunity to put on more accessories than usual, and Soonyoung had cheered at the idea in his well known enthusiasm, which was to be expected. Not only does Soonyoung love "being silly" and dressing up, he also does not try to hide how much he likes it when Wonwoo wears a harness, so it was a double-win for him. However, almost everyone here is wearing some sort of costume, some even pretty elaborate. Lots of corpse brides, witches and classic vampires, a whole group even coordinated themselves as the Justice League, and some guy who offered him a cupcake soon after he had entered he house was even wearing green face paint to a yellow suit.

The event itself is… something. Wonwoo feels slightly out of place, since most people here are from the music department, but there is so much food and alcohol provided that he starts thinking the host actually counted on filling up all of the Free Arts department. The drinks make it easier to talk to strangers, though, and even when Jihoon goes off to talk with a gigantic guy in a Spider-Man or maybe Deadpool costume (it really is pretty dark here), Wonwoo meets new people and can even feel some friendships bloom when he discusses the pros and cons of refusing to watch baseball games with your father a month before your birthday with two girls dressed up as Morticia and Gomez Addams. They really get him.

As of now, Wonwoo is really enjoying himself, and the music isn’t even half bad (but after all, he shouldn’t just assume everybody here has the same lacking taste as Jihoon). Of course, Soonyoung, sociable as ever, helped him out a lot with that by throwing compliments and cheers left and right. However, it’s been a while since he’s last seen him, so after he excuses himself to go to the toilet and grabs another badly mixed, but very red Daiquiri, he sets out to look for his friend.

Surprisingly enough, he finds him in well-known company.

“Holy shit, Wonwoo hyung!“ Seokmin in a sheet exclaims. “What the heck are you doing here!“

“Hold on, you know this guy?“ Soonyoung chimes in, a grin spread from ear to ear and two empty glasses in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me, he’s been my best friend since, like, ten minutes! If I’d known sooner he could have been since at least a week!“

“Soonyoung, you know Seokmin, he’s friends with Mingyu,“ Wonwoo replies with a laugh and takes the glasses away from his friend to stack them into each other so he doesn’t accidentally destroy them when he throws himself into Wonwoo’s arms with an elated giggle.

Seokmin laughs heartily, too, his bedsheet slowly slipping completely from his head, and claps his hands down on the older’s shoulders. There are a LOT of hands on his body right now.

“Hyung, you look so good! Vernon is gonna be so pumped to see you!“

Wonwoo chokes. Soonyoung lets a loud cackle escape. Jihoon appears out of thin air and says “Vernon, huh?“ as deadpan as it gets.

“Vernon is here?“ Wonwoo finally manages to ask when his coughing fit ebbs to a mere raspy throat. His voice still breaks, which Jihoon immediately mocks with glee. God this is humiliating. At least Vernon wasn’t around yet to experience this.

“Yeah I am.“

Of course.

Jihoon is full on laughing at that, leaning against Soonyoung who just seems delighted by the general amusement and now latches on to the smaller instead.

“This is the best party of my life,“ Jihoon announces, and Wonwoo can just sigh and finally turn around.

“Hi!“

Vernon is beaming. He has one of those fake knives going through his head, paired with a vaguely ripped flannel shirt with a lot of dark stains on it, and his hair is messily pushed out of his face. His cheeks are flushed red from the heat and the alcohol, and his smile is so wide that Wonwoo forgets about any potential embarrassment and smiles back just as big.

“Hi,“ he replies, lifting one hand to wave, but stopping halfway because a wave seems unnecessary when they are standing merely two meters apart. Vernon grabs it in a handshake and laughs, though, so Wonwoo is saved from any awkward tension.

“He’s hot,“ a smaller guy next to Vernon blurts out with an expression of awe, to which Wonwoo just chuckles and uses his free hand to shoot him a finger gun, except it’s not so free since he’s still holding those glasses.

“Yeah! That’s Wonwoo-hyung,“ Vernon replies, turning to the blonde.

“With the cats?“ he excitedly replies. He’s wearing a suit and sporting thick-rimmed, fake glasses, kind of like Detective Conan, and has a very pretty gleam of excitement in his eyes when he looks at Vernon and then Wonwoo.

“Yuup. How come you’re here?“

Somebody passes by real close, so Wonwoo staggers forward a bit to make way for them. Vernon’s hand shoots up to his shoulder to steady him, but he drops it when he sees that Wonwoo is steady on his legs.

“I came here with Jihoon,“ he explains with a motion of his hand to his friends, “the one that’s not a tiger. He’s in the department, brought us along.“

Vernon’s friend gasps as he sees the shorter guy, who is currently trying to push Soonyoung off his back while conversing with Seokmin, and steps over to the three to ask Jihoon where he got his ridiculously oversized cowboy hat from. Soonyoung doesn’t let the smaller respond though because he shouts “Are you Key from the Sherlock video??“ and then wildly embraces the startled, but equally enthusiastic blonde.

“Wow, I didn’t think anybody would catch on to Seungkwan’s costume,“ Vernon says with a grin.

“Is he from here, too?“ Wonwoo asks. It doesn’t really make sense, he realises when he has already said it, but it doesn’t matter because Vernon turns back to him and pushes his hair back, tussling it ever so elegantly, even if the knife headband is in the way and now awkwardly stands on his head.

“Yeah! He’s friends with Seokmin, we’ve been together for- oh shit!“ Vernon giggles when the knife falls to the ground and he bends down to pick it up, while the contents of Wonwoo’s stomach suddenly slosh uncomfortably and something feels like it’s twisting up from the inside. He shoots a quick glance at the blonde, who is laughing hard with Soonyoung and Seokmin. He probably didn’t eat enough this evening, he thinks to himself.

“Anyways,“ Vernon continues as he stands straight again, the fake knife thing in his hands, which Wonwoo instinctively takes and places on the younger’s head again.

“Thanks - Anyways, we’ve been hanging out a lot lately, he’s cool, we’re good friends.“

“Oh. Yeah, cool,“ Wonwoo replies. “He looks fun.“

“He is,“ Vernon says a bit wistfully, and then he leans really close to Wonwoo’s face. It’s so sudden that he doesn’t even have time to recoil before he freezes up completely.

“Did you use red today?“

Wonwoo is completely still, just staring into Vernon’s face that is so, so close. He could, if the light was better, count his eyelashes that seem so incredibly long, or, if his hands weren’t occupied by the glasses he took from Soonyoung, brush one of the curls on the younger’s forehead back into place.

“Hm?“ he just makes, because societal norms require you to reply to questions when they are posed instead of losing yourself in reveries, and Vernon’s eyes lock with his own.

Wonwoo finally startles back.

“Your makeup,“ the younger says, hands buried in his jeans pockets. “It’s not just black today.“

“Oh. Yeah.“ Very astute, Wonwoo. “Yeah, uh, I did a bit more today.“

Vernon smiles.

“It really cool.“ Then he points at the older’s neck. “The choker looks really good on you, too.“

God, Wonwoo could sink into the ground. He doesn’t even know if positively or negatively, he just knows that he feels way too weak right now.

“Thank you,“ he replies. “You look really good, too.“

The conversation ends at that. Seokmin, who is sharing his sheet with Soonyoung, calls Vernon over to introduce the two, and Seungkwan links their arms together with a relaxed laugh.

Jihoon is suddenly standing next to Wonwoo and nods over to Vernon.

“Need a drink?“

Wonwoo’s lips slip into a smile easily when he sees his friends laughs out loud at something Soonyoung said. He still sighs, though.

“God, I do.“

*

The next time Wonwoo sees Vernon, Frankenstein by the Editors is blasting over the speakers, and he is dancing in the middle of the packed room, wearing a witch’s hat and jumping along to the chorus, shouting the lyrics with strangers that are joining to celebrate one night where nothing really matters because you can finally come out and be yourself without any worries.

He looks so free.

Chapter Text

“Dude, you suck!“ Seungkwan shouts at Seokmin when he misses the beer cups by miles.

“You’re not much better, Vernon is the only one actually landing his shots!“

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be able to do it without Seungkwan’s rooting.“

“Did you hear that? I’m contributing to our win!“

Seokmin has to empty his last cup in defeat while Seungkwan and Vernon loudly celebrate, high-fiving and hugging with whoops and cheers.

“D-O-Y-O-U-L-O-V-E-M-E,“ it blasts out of the speakers, and the blonde joins in.

“Do you love me the way I love you babe!“

It’s past midnight, but not by much. Vernon hasn’t been to a party in such a long time that he completely forgot how awake he gets during those, seemingly never tiring, always on his feet dancing or talking to strangers he will never remember again, laughing freely at any joke or drunken mishap. The music and all the happy talking are so loud that he doesn’t have to think about anything else except the way his feet move and Seungkwan’s smiling face.

The mass of celebrating people inside the house seems to have grown since the three first joined the party, and everybody seems to want to talk to them. Seokmin disappears into the crowd with a girl to go dancing, yelling “Shut up!“ as Seungkwan gives him a light smack on the ass ’as encouragement’. The two younger ones are soon pushed to the side by the moving bodies, leaning against the wall breathlessly, holding each other’s arms so as to not be pulled apart or back onto the dance floor. The Halloween songs everybody knows have been playing the whole night, soundtracks from scary movies (like the Scooby-Doo opening) and wildly beating club mixes alike, music you can’t help but sing along to, so the room booms with cheers when the probably most legendary song of all comes on.

“Hey,“ Vernon nearly shouts over the noise, “did you realise that we’re not actually listening to the real Monster Mash, but just to a dude talking about how galactic of a tune it is? And we will probably never know real joy because we can never hear the actual Monster Mash?“ Somebody bumps into him and he presses close to Seungkwan, who replies: “That’s so fucked up, why would they tease us like that then!“

The only natural course of events to follow up on his response is to make out.

It’s enthusiastic, earnest, seeking. Not as sloppy as their drunken states would make one think, but not shy either. Vernon laughs into the kiss, feeling lightheaded by the pressure of Seungkwan’s smile on his, until the shorter slaps him on the arm and giggles “What?“ over and over.

Vernon shakes his head, grinning widely. 

“Nothing,“ he replies. He feels Seungkwan’s hands lightly curled into fists on his chest, while he holds him by the waist, his fingers gripping into the fabric of his jacket, unwilling to let go just yet.

“Okay, nothing,“ Seungkwan snorts, reaching up to kiss him again. He feels impatient, like he’s waited way too long for this, and Vernon silently agrees.

Finally.

*

It’s nearly 2am when Vernon finds himself sitting outside in the host’s garden, Seungkwan next to him rambling about what kind of wraps are the best while they’re sharing sour candy out of a bowl the younger swiped from the buffet. He’s leaning back on his elbows, frowning at the humidity of the grass seeping through his pants, and startles out of his contemplations when Seungkwan suddenly falls onto his back with a whine.

“I really want fishcakes,“ he says while snaking his arms around Vernon’s.

“No wraps?“

“I’m too drunk for healthy food right now, Vernon. Tomorrow me can deal with that.“

“Tomorrow me is gonna be sopping wet. Tomorrow me is actually right now me.“

Vernon has reached his stage of apathy in drunkenness, while Seungkwan seems to be a comfortably clingy drunk. A while ago, Seokmin had joined them as they were talking to friends of the singer in the kitchen and had laughed about the way the shorter was resting his chin on Vernon’s shoulder from behind. “You make the softest couple,“ he had said, pinching his roommate’s cheeks in affection. But it was fine, Vernon didn’t mind the closeness.

Right now though, having Seungkwan against him feels bothersome, maybe because his legs are uncomfortably clammy, so he sits up and leans his arms on his knees instead. Also, this way he can better observe how the lights from inside the house and the little orange lanterns around them play with Seungkwan’s features, soft from the alcohol and his smiles. He’s lost the glasses around the same time the fake knife on Vernon’s head had disappeared, and his eyes seem brighter without the reflections on the lenses masking them.

“What’s your real hair color?“

“As an East-Asian, I can confidently say that it is super dark brown.“

Vernon pouts as he takes a strand of Seungkwan’s hair between his fingers and inspects it closely.

“You look so good tho. You should have been a natural blonde.“

He’s running his hand through the hair while Seungkwan giggles, before he stills to look at him intently.

“Can I kiss you again?“ he asks.

Vernon’s eyes widen in surprise, then he nods, waiting for Seungkwan to sit up and grab his face. Maybe it’s the brightness in the garden compared to the dimmer, irregularly flashing lights inside the house, but it feels realer now. It’s not a harsh reality, soft on his mouth, and he blinks silently as Seungkwan breaks the kiss with a little sigh, a small smile spreading over his face.

“Can we do this every day?“ Seungkwan asks.

“Oh for sure,“ Vernon replies. “I’d love to.“

“Starting tomorrow?“

“I can’t see why not.“

They both laugh at the exchange, until they are interrupted by a voice calling out for Vernon.

When he turns his head to spot whoever it is that wants to see him, Vernon finds Wonwoo jogging towards them.

“Hi!“ the older exclaims, falling onto the grass in front of him. His hair isn’t as neat as it was at the beginning of the evening, and his black, silky shirt is unbuttoned at the top, displaying sharp collarbones and inked skin that has Vernon stare in drunken fascination.

“I was looking for you,“ Wonwoo says, fishing a cigarette and a lighter out of the back of his pants, his rings glinting at the movement. “I’ve got to leave, so I wanted to find you and say bye first.“

Vernon can feel Seungkwan staring, not that he can blame him.

“Is it that late already?“ he asks, turning fully to Wonwoo who clumsily checks his phone. “Nah, but Soonyoung nearly threw up into the bathroom already, so as soon as Jihoon has filled him up with water and flushed out at least some of the alcohol we’re getting a taxi to his apartment.“

Wonwoo seems to be fairly drunk himself, smiling widely into the smoke. His cheeks are flushed, which gives him, despite his hard makeup and sharp features, a juvenile, nearly boyish look. His eyes gleam happily, too, when he looks at Vernon.

“Where’s your knife?“ Wonwoo asks, to which the younger chuckles.

“I have no idea, honestly. I need to get a new one.“

Wonwoo laughs, nearly falling over as he hiccups. They talk like that for a while, Seungkwan slowly taking part in the conversation as well, until Wonwoo stubs out his cigarette under his shoe and his friends pick him up to go home, the shorter holding the one in the tiger outfit, whose whiskers are smudged, by the hand.

“We need to hang out again soon,“ Vernon says as the older gets up. “I haven’t seen the cats in ages.“

“We all miss you at home,“ Wonwoo replies as a farewell, and after he gives one last wave at the two sitting in the grass, he turns and follows his friends to the gates of the garden.

“Still can’t quite believe I’m not the coolest one among your friends,“ Seungkwan says as they watch the taxi leave.

“It’s a crazy competition to get a piece of me,“ Vernon confirms, which has the blonde box his arm with an offended noise.

When they head back into the warm house, where loudness falls against them again, Seungkwan takes Vernon’s hand and asks: “But I have you now, right?“

“Yeah,“ he replies. “You have me.“

*

The next morning, Vernon is woken up by Seokmin violently knocking at his door and bursting into his room without waiting for an answer, shaking his phone into his roommate’s general direction.

“Why is Seungkwan asking for your number and saying that he urgently needs it now that you are, let me quote, ’basically dating’???“

“Oh, yeah, we are,“ Vernon replies, squinting at his alarm clock. It’s not even 10am yet, and his skull is hammering.

“What??“ Seokmin screeches. “Why do you guys not have each others’ numbers then?“

The younger groans, rubbing his temples.

“Tell him to call me, you’re being loud. I need some orange juice first.“

The older gasps.

“Alright, get your ass into the kitchen and drink some juice then! I’m happy for you guys, but what the fuck?“

Vernon chuckles as he’s left alone in his room. What the fuck indeed, he thinks. He had definitely not expected the Halloween party to turn out this way, but who is he to complain when Seungkwan facetimes him out of his bed after he’s washed up and gotten dressed. While he airs out his room, he listens to Seungkwan lament that he couldn’t sleep in because his roommate was in the room next door crying into her phone, and then tells him that he dreamt of his legs turning into fish because his pants were so wet. 

When he finally joins Seokmin in the kitchen, the older is preparing his hearty hangover porridge, muttering to himself.

“Sorry for being rude,“ Vernon says, taking the juice out of the fridge. “I wasn’t fully awake yet.“

“It’s fine,“ Seokmin mumbles as he carefully carries his full bowl to the table. “But I still want to know what the hell is up with you and Seungkwan. What do you mean you’re dating, I was with you guys the whole evening.“

“You definitely weren’t,“ Vernon laughs.

“Okay good, I wasn’t. Still, how could I have guessed that you’d become a couple right behind my back! Because you are one now, right?“

“Yeah, we just talked about it again.“ Vernon smiles at the thought. Seungkwan had disappeared into his pillows for nearly a minute to muffle a shout and some other exclamations of joy, and the memories from the evening that weren’t muted by the alcohol flood back in to make him grin.

“This is so cool,“ Seokmin sighs. “I have brought my two best friends together and now we can hang out all the time. What more could I ask for.“

“I don’t know, maybe juice?“

“You’re so right, I’ll ask for juice.“

*

The start of November brought indescribable cold. Luckily, Vernon is busy enough at school preparing for their annual Christmas performances to keep himself warm. He basically runs around with hot patches plastered all over his shoulders and lower back, and training hours get heated when nineteen dancers with their instructor and the pianist in one room have to repeat the same ten minute passage multiple times until everybody executes their part to Madame Seo’s liking.

“Seulgi, show me that adage again,“ she sighs when she lets everybody take a short break. Chan is downing his water a bit too quickly and nearly chokes, quietly coughing when Vernon pats his back. Their instructor is giving the main dancer pointers, calling Jeonghan over to give Seulgi support. Vernon slowly stretches into a split, lowering his upper body on the floor, arms stretched far in front of him.

“I still don’t get why Jeonghan-hyung didn’t take any of the main roles,“ Chan mumbles, one leg raised up and resting against the wall. “I get that he was injured earlier this year, but he’s still one of our best dancers.“

Vernon sits up to turn his torso towards his friend. His hair is wet from the sweating and falls into his eyes, but he can’t push it out of his face because he needs his arms to be perfectly aligned with his shoulders, lest Madame Seo bickers with him again. “Hansol, flowers don’t waver in their bloom“ is what she’d say when he first got accepted into the school, when he was barely 20 and still smoked and was exhausted from the burn out of college and absolutely not in shape enough. While the pianist, actually a guy from university that Vernon’s friends might know, interrupts the silence of the dancers’ stretching with a Bach preludium, he remembers how his teacher kept pushing him to be better, to get out of that slump and finally become the flower she wanted him to be. It was harsh, but Vernon owes her a lot. He is more than thankful that she kept believing in his abilities when he struggled to do the same.

“Jinho,“ the instructor says now. “Back to Tchaikovsky.“

Vernon stands up with a groan, finally able to push his hair back when the music changes.

“I think he’s still a bit scared,“ he finally replies to Chan. “I know he didn’t want anyone to know, but the touring in July took a hard toll on him. He doesn’t want to risk anything, I guess.“

“Wasn’t that the Rameau thing?“ Chan asks. “The Osiris performances? Those were so much less technical than our usual choreographies though, how bad did that injury get him?“

Madame Seo claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention, and Vernon smiles apologetically.

“It takes time to heal, Chan,“ he says, getting into position.

And envelopé, pirouette en dedans, piqué.

Of course, the dancing isn’t the only thing keeping him warm. 

When he arrives home that day, Seokmin’s courses at uni have already ended, which means that Vernon is greeted by Seungkwan’s head peeking out of his friend’s bedroom when he shuffles out of his coat.

“Hey,“ Vernon grins at him.

“Hey,“ his boyfriend grins back, joining him in the hallway to grab the dancer’s bag. “How was training?“

“The usual,“ Vernon replies, taking in Seungkwan’s blushed cheeks, his hands wrapped around the bag’s handles, the sleeves of his sweater pushed to his elbows. He leads the way to Vernon’s bedroom like it’s his own, dropping his gear on the desk chair to reach for Vernon’s hand instead.

“The pianist played Bach at one point,“ Vernon says, looking down at their intertwined fingers.

Seungkwan laughs and reaches up to place a quick peck on the dancer’s cheek.

“That’s okay, I only hate his choir music. Seokmin’s voice cracked real hard when he talked to Jihyo today, which about everybody must have heard, so now he’s wallowing in shame over his homework.“

It’s been nearly two weeks since Halloween, and since they’ve been together like this. Seungkwan demands a lot of attention, and it’s easy for Vernon to comply. Their days haven’t changed much, since the blonde had been hanging out at his place before they were a couple anyways, except now they don’t shy away from physical closeness anymore.

Vernon is usually not one to display affection this openly, but Seungkwan makes it so easy. The dancer kisses him before heading into the bathroom, and when he joins the singers in Seokmin’s room after his bath, he leans against Seungkwan’s shoulder without hesitation. Watching movies is often spent with the shorter talking about near everything he can think of, be it in any way connected to the plot or something entirely off topic, while Vernon absentmindedly cards his fingers through his hair and pays attention to both his laptop and his boyfriend’s comments at once. When Vernon prepares tea in the kitchen, Seungkwan sticks close, handing him the mugs or the sugar.

“You are so sickeningly sweet,“ Seokmin says with a fond smile when Vernon laughs about a witty retort Seungkwan brought in their banter.

“Get ready to see a dentist soon then,“ Vernon replies, grinning when his boyfriend snickers next to him, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“God, you two are going to be the death of me,“ his friend basically coos back. “At least you’re not awkwardly making sex eyes at each other anymore, that was hell.“

“We what??“ Seungkwan chokes out, flustered to his ears, while the younger laughs an “Oh shit yeah, sorry“ at Seokmin who has to duck from the blonde’s attacks.

He’s right, though. The sexual tension has ebbed since Halloween, giving way to comfortable making out when Seokmin isn’t around to act like he’s going to throw up. In the end, Vernon is often too exhausted from his training to go any further than that, much to Seungkwan’s chagrin, but his roommate doesn’t need to know that.

“How the hell do you look so fresh at six in the morning,“ he grumbles at him when they meet in the kitchen a day later, Vernon grabbing some fruit out of the fridge while the older groggily turns on the kettle to make himself coffee before he has to head to the theatre for rehearsals.

“I get laid,“ the dancer replies with a shrug.

“Oh god,“ Seokmin whispers, looking even more tired all of a sudden. “Is Seungkwan still here?“

“He’s still sleeping,“ Vernon says. He’d woken up to his boyfriend curled into his side, which disturbed his usual, straight sleeping position, but the back pain was nothing his morning yoga-routine couldn’t fix. “Cockblocked by my own boyfriend’s amazing sporty thighs,“ Seungkwan had mumbled into the pillow, but he’d still accepted a kiss to make up for the lack of action in their sex life. Vernon would just have to do more cardio at the gym to strengthen his stamina.

*

The following Friday, as Vernon is eating ramyeon in the 7Eleven down the street where his shift at Mr. Hong’s shop just ended, he receives a text from Wonwoo notifying him of the kittens’ visit at the veterinarian for their check up. The dancer has two more hours before he has to head to his training, so he exits the recording of his routine that he was just examining to enter the chat. 

Most in character for the typical, head-in-the-clouds stereotype of a historian, it's the older asking Vernon if he, perchance, has the cats’ ’birth certificates’ (“I know they’re not really birth certificates but I literally don’t remember what those papers are called“) that he needs to bring to the kittens’ appointment that afternoon, obviously freaking out because he has a class to go to. After nagging him a bit about not looking for the stuff earlier, to which Wonwoo replies that he is a busy man with a lot of exclamation marks, Vernon tells him that he remembers literally watching the older create a folder with the paperwork and put said folder into the new carrier they had bought together saying, quote, “This is such a perfect place for it, I’ll never forget where that is.“

Vernon chuckles as his friend sends back a few exasperated messages and finally replies “Found it, you’re actually saving my life“ after a little while, and finishes up his lunch with a mixture of autumn rain and tentative joy.

When he leaves training that evening, his hair immediately doused by the light spray of the dark November sky and the tree branches shaking above him in anticipation of the frost, he finds another text from Wonwoo, sent while Vernon was skipping over the parquet of the studio.

Jeon Wonwoo

Soo, the cats are officially mine now! And it’s been exactly a month since you brought them to me! I think we gotta celebrate :-)

*

“No don’t- Don’t try to get out!“

A scuffle.

“Napoleon Bonaparte, stay back-“

When the door opens, Vernon is already crouching in front of it with open arms to catch the orange kitten that is snaking through the gap. A dark paw is batting the air from behind Wonwoo’s leg that is pressed against the doorway.

“Wait- hold on- sorry, just- Earl Grey, stop,“ he curses, while Vernon laughs at the scene, Napoleon wriggling around in his arms as she attempts to jump down to dash down the corridor, never to be seen again.

“Alright,“ Wonwoo says when he finally has a hold on The Earl, who is hanging over his shoulder and batting at his right ear. He pulls the door open completely and gives Vernon a bright smile. “Hi.“

“Hi,“ Vernon greets back, a grin spreading as he observes how the grey cat is now hectically patting Wonwoo’s cheek. However, the older only looks at him, unbothered except when he bends his head back to avoid his glasses getting knocked off.

“Come in, I got us strawberry milk.“

The apartment looks tidier than the last time Vernon was there, nearly a month ago when he carried a scratching tree into it, and there’s a slightly smaller, but definitely greener plant standing in the living room next to the tv. Would you know it, Kimchi-Jjigae is lying in the pot.

Napoleon finally frees herself and Vernon shuffles over to the last cat on his socks. Kimchi-Jjigae lazily stretches, his limbs suddenly everywhere, and the dancer chuckles and gives him some pats on the belly.

“You’re going to have a conversation with your landlord if you’re going to just grow cats here,“ he says, while Wonwoo goes to turn down the volume of his music.

“My bed is full of dirt since Minghao brought that plant in,“ he huffs. “I had him throw out the other ones he kept leaving here because they were dead anyways, and I don’t want the cats to chew on them, so then he brought in a whole new one to swap out and just said that it wasn’t toxic.“ He stares at the wiggling leaves for a second, Kimchi-Jjigae setting them in motion as he tries to catch Vernon’s hand. “I don’t even know where he keeps getting all those plants from.“

“It’s very decorative,“ Vernon replies, and Wonwoo laughs, single syllables as his nose scrunches up. He sits down on the sofa and picks at his chipped nail polish for a second before pushing his glasses up again. He’s wearing his simple black eye pencil again, and his eyes have an expectant glint as he looks at Vernon.

“I got collars,“ he grins.

The dancer sits on the floor, where Napoleon immediately climbs into his lap. “No way,“ he replies. “With your name and all?“

The older chuckles. “Well, they’re not really gonna get out of the house, and they got chipped now anyways, if they ever should escape. I just thought, you know, to make it official-“ 

He interrupts himself.

“I’m so dumb. If they never get out of the house they don’t need collars in the first place.“

Vernon laughs at Wonwoo’s face, devoid of emotion before he buries it into his hands with a groan.

“No, it’s okay,“ he says, giving the older a pat on the knee. “We can still put them on the cats as a symbol that they’re part of your household now. They’re gonna look cute anyway.“

Wonwoo climbs over the back of his couch to get the collars while Vernon gets up to find The Earl. When he carries her into the living room, the older is sitting on the floor in front of his coffee table, luring the other kittens to him with little fish-shaped treats and unpacking his strawberry milk all the while. As he joins him, Wonwoo holds up three loops of fabric in soft pastel colours. 

Vernon can’t help but laugh, especially when Wonwoo regards him with a puzzled look.

“What’s up?“ he asks around the straw of his little milk package.

“Nothing,“ Vernon chuckles, grabbing his own little bottle. “It’s all very cute, don’t worry.“

In fact, it’s nearly comical how Wonwoo, dressed in black from top to bottom (the only exception being the knitted sweater that looks like Jackson Pollock committed murder on a black canvas), is sitting in front of him with periwinkle collars for his three cats, sipping his pink milk from a bottle that has a Pororo advertisement on it, lips pursed in innocent concentration. His image as the unapproachable and rough type gets even further damaged when he gets flustered from Vernon’s good willed teasing, scowling in a way that betrays his embarrassment. Vernon is delighted to get to see him like that, honestly. It’s different from the Wonwoo he usually meets, almost like he’s letting down his guard around him now, like he’s letting himself be bothered instead of controlling how he is perceived at all times.

“Look, just because I dress dark doesn’t mean my cats can’t look adorable. I’m not gonna limit their ways of expressing themselves to my own, that’s not what I stand for,“ he scoffs.

“Ooh, very punk of you,“ Vernon returns, to which Wonwoo contorts out of his cross-legged position to kick him against the knee. He nearly falls over doing that, and Napoleon laments like she’s going to be crushed under him. 

A woman, probably Jaurim by the sounds of it, is angrily lamenting her slow life over the stereo’s speakers, Wonwoo humming and nodding his head along. Vernon stretches his legs out because sitting criss-cross apple sauce makes his thighs ache, even if training and his gym session are now over three hours ago, so he lets himself slump against the couch, dragging his hand over Earl Greys fur. It’s raining heavily outside, and the streams of water pound loudly against the window panes that Wonwoo has stuck polaroid pictures and concert tickets to. Luckily, it’s warm inside, the radiators rattling comfortably as they work against the nearing winter. The overhead light and a standing lamp are eradicating all shadows in the room, making Wonwoo’s rings glint as he pets Kimchi-Jjigae, and that damn eyebrow piercing, too, when he does mini-headbangs to the shifting playlist. Vernon is still kind of incredulous that Wonwoo got that, because he distantly remembers him batting anything away that came into poking distance of his face when they still hung out, going into battle mode with his lighter out like the most effective flamethrower there is when Joshua would point a plastic fork at his nose during neighbourhood gatherings. It looks good, though, and gives his even, near perfectly symmetrical face an edge, even when he is only wearing little make-up.

Vernon thinks of his last week. As straining as some parts of it felt, in this room, it appears like nothing more comfortable has ever happened to him. Sure, he had to push Skype-night with his family to Sunday morning and make it Skype-brunch, and he still has dance routines to memorise and build into his body, but as he watches the cats fool around with each other and Wonwoo, it’s as if this is exactly what his days were waiting for: eating sour candy with a friend that reminds him of the better days of his childhood, taking pictures to show to Seungkwan and Seokmin when he gets home feeling fully rested, getting buried under three little cats. He knows the next week will tire him out, but sitting here, he looks forward to working more.

“So… what now?“ Wonwoo asks.

Vernon looks down at the kittens that are all fervently trying to rid themselves of the collars. They look adorably stupid, the fur sticking up in odd angles as they fall on their butts. Kimchi-Jjigae gets one of his hind paws stuck behind his light green collar and has the audacity to snap at Vernon’s hand when he tries to free him.

“We could sing Happy Birthday?“ he suggests, and Wonwoo looks at him in slight terror first, then apathy.

“If we’re gonna do this, I have to at least film it then,“ he grumbles, pulling his phone out of one of the thousands of zippers on his tech pants.

At least the cats are amused by their awkward singing.

*

Vernon is looking at the cover of a CD with something that might be an orange bowling ball on it. He’s never heard of the group, if it even is a group. Hard to tell. The name is “Die“ and then something that starts with one of those ’a’s with dots on it.  

“Do you only have disks?“ he asks Wonwoo, who seems to be sending around the video they just took to every person he has ever met.

The older looks up, startled maybe, and pushes his glasses up. “Yeah- I mean, I have some records in my room, but my player isn’t really trustworthy, so I mostly let my friend borrow them when he wants to. I listen to my own stuff when I’m over at his place anyway.“

Vernon nods solemnly, letting his finger glide over the plastic covers stacked over each other in probably alphabetical order, but not really. “Were the records you bought at Jung’s place for him?“

“If that was the place we met at, yeah. Minghao had an exposition to work for where some pretty important… art people got to see his pieces, and I thought he deserved more as a treat than his dirty painter water.“

Vernon tilts his head amusedly. “He’s sounds like the focused type.“

“Oh, you have no idea,“ Wonwoo laughs. “He’s pretty funny, actually. Most of the groups he listens to have absolute nonsense lyrics.“

To prove his point, he puts on a song on his phone, turning up the volume a bit on his stereo.

“Black cats… in a bowl?“ Vernon asks.

“Right,“ the older giggles. “His English is even worse than mine, I don’t think he even knows what they say.“

It’s still a fun song. Looking into it, there are a lot of rather lighthearted melodies mixed between the louder songs on Wonwoo’s playlist. Vernon actually has no idea what punk sounds like, all he really knows is that it looks good and makes some extremely valid points regarding the detriment of society and oppression funded in political tradition. The shelf in front of him gives him a rough idea, though. There’s a lot of languages mixing in front of him, ranging from the western classics to Korean artists Vernon knows one song from because his dad used to listen to old radio stations when he did dishes back home. He sees some Chinese and Japanese, too. A lot of Japanese, actually.

“The music was one of the main reasons I went abroad after school, to be honest,“ Wonwoo says, suddenly crouching next to him.

“Wasn’t it because our town kinda sucked?“ Vernon asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Oh definitely,“ Wonwoo replies, “but I could have settled in Seoul right away if that had been my only motivation to get away. I wanted to do the most rebellious thing I could think off, and since everybody already hated me, I set off to Japan to add fuel to my own stake's fire. And I’d been into the punk scene over there for a while before that.“

Vernon pulls out more cases, while Wonwoo’s phone plays Love Will Tear Us Apart next. The dancer hums along to the song as he studies album arts and names. From the corner of his eye, he doesn’t miss how his friend tries to suppress a smile. He looks nearly proud.

Until the younger pulls out a The Smiths album out and cocks his head at it, anyway.

“Didn’t they do some pretty messed up stuff?“

“Morrissey is an ass,“ Wonwoo frowns, taking the CD out of Vernon’s hand and inspecting it. “Disgusting dick, but I bought this album when I was 15 or something, that thing was holy to me. It’s been long paid for now anyway. I only hate myself a little when I listen to it once a year.“

Vernon laughs at Wonwoo’s sour expression, and also at the scene he imagines before him. 

“That must have been a sight at the shop. You were barely more than your skinny arms back then, buying your first rock album with the money my mother gave you for teaching me how to write essays.“

Wonwoo punches him against the shoulder, laughing along. Earl Grey has found the AUX cord and nearly pulls it out of the stereo, but gets distracted by the loud noise of the laughing boys. 

“That wasn’t the first album I bought myself, though,“ the older says, leaning back on his hands.

“Alright, hit me then,“ Vernon grins, to which Wonwoo huffs and takes a matted jewel case out of his shelf after a bit of searching. At first, only a scratching noise comes out of the speakers, slowly tuning into low guitar sounds that seem to jump from one side to the other, which is a sick effect that Vernon technically doesn’t understand, but nevertheless really appreciates (yes, he works in an electronics shop and still has no idea what technology is capable of - sue him, it’s easy money). He takes a sip of his strawberry milk and shoots a questioning look at his friend, waiting for the song to, well, start, but Wonwoo is staring expectantly at the seconds counting up on the display. At 0:30 exactly, he grins wickedly, and then the room seems to explode in drums and guitar and bass.

Vernon nearly chokes on his drink, Kimchi-Jjigae falls from the couch’s backrest.

“Oh!“ he coughs out, and then, with an incredulous laugh: “Wonwoo, this song is dark as shit!“

“Yeah,“ Wonwoo replies, barely stifling a laugh. “My English was very bad.“

*

The next day in the afternoon, Vernon receives a text from Seungkwan.

“Got sexiled by the roommate,“ the blonde says when Vernon opens his door to him. “I know you had a thing going on, but my good-for-nothing best friend wouldn’t answer my texts, and I really couldn’t stay there any minute longer. I promise I’ll be quiet when you work.“

Actually, Vernon had woken up unreasonably early and was already done with his plans for the day. In the kitchen, he can hear Seokmin talking to Mingyu about a movie that came out not too long ago and that they both want to see in theatres. He’s had his extended brunch with his parents and sister a while earlier today, and Seungkwan’s nose is all red from the cold where he’s standing on the doorstep with his shoes off, his fingers rubbing against each other in search of heat. Vernon feels refreshed, energised and in good shape after taking a break the day before, so he gives his boyfriend a little grin. 

“You know,“ he says, glancing towards the kitchen where his own roommate is not really doing anything of importance, “that gives me an idea.“

Seungkwan’s brow furrows lightly in confusion, and then lift curiously. “Oh?“

Seokmin's laughter reaches them, slightly muffled. “Kwan texted you because he got kicked out again?“

Vernon looks at Seungkwan, who’s eyes suddenly widen.

“OH. Oh my god, yes.“

*

It is so. SO. Fucking. Cold.

Wonwoo doesn’t do well in low temperatures anyways, but this is torture. He’s standing outside the history department library because Professor Min said he needed him to help carry atlases for a class “real quick“, and now he’s been waiting for nearly ten minutes and freezing his ass and arms and thighs off. When he got the call, it had sounded like Prof was already IN the library, so Wonwoo had not thought it necessary to grab his jacket. The jacket that contains his wallet, which then again contains his student ID. Which is needed to enter the library after hours. After hours. Wonwoo would judge his professor more for working this late if he hadn’t been working in the main library himself.

So now he’s pacing in front of the entrance, sitting down on the steps and jumping up again because the steps are even colder. He checks his phone to see that Prof Min texted him a very helpful “There in three minutes! I hope!“ and huffs out a very visible breath. I wanna go back inside, a random song on his playlist proclaims, and he groans. Get in line, one minute more and he won’t have any feet he could use to go back inside.

At least he brought his phone, so he can complain to Jun, who is still warm and cozy at their spot, about his misery. It’s not like he’s distracting him from any assignments, anyway, since his friend already has a well paying job and less scholastic workload and was just sitting on the other side of the study desk playing games on his phone.

Wonwoo thinks about leg warmers. When he freezes, it always starts with the legs, the cold creeping into his boots and spreading over his knees, settling deep into every single muscle. And it’s unfortunate that it’s the legs of all things, because he can wear gloves and beanies and wool knit sweaters and leather jackets all he wants, those are not going to do much for his genetically overly long walking limbs. So what he needs would be leg warmers. 

Don’t ballet dancers use those? Pictures of dainty girls raising their arms gracefully in white tights and pink shoes appear before his inner eye when he opens the chat with Vernon. Professor Min better hurry up before he starts imagining his friend stretching instead of ballerinas. 

Jeon Wonwoo

Do you use leg warmers? 

I’d kill for leg warmers rn

They look effective as fuck

Almost immediately, the three little dots pop up in the corner of the chat. Jun is sending him cat memes in the other chat, telling him at the same time that the red haired girl at the table next to theirs has fallen asleep on her keyboard that is now apparently typing a row of percent signs (Wonwoo doesn’t even want to know what Jun is doing creeping close enough to see that). In the distance, he can see Professor Min literally running towards him. At least he feels bad about leaving Wonwoo in the cold, because he would never willingly exercise otherwise.

vernon

LOL

yeah i do

i wear them outside all the time idk why thats not common practice

you want a pair

?

Jeon Wonwoo

Oh fuck yes

I might have to offer you my first born child as a thanks

*

The leg warmers work WONDERS. Wonwoo wears them all the time. They’re black and tightly woven and fit well over the skinny jeans he usually wears, or under the tech wear pants he will put on from time to time. After he’d helped his professor, Wonwoo had called it a day at the library and packed up his stuff to drive straight to Vernon’s place, only dropping off Jun at his apartment on the way. The plan had been to only grab the garments and head home, because Wonwoo didn’t really know how to interact with Vernon without preparing for exactly that beforehand yet, but Seokmin had been there and suddenly they had all sat together in front of the muted television catching up with each other until the blonde guy from the party, Seungkwan, had showed up and Wonwoo had realised that it was already pretty late.

It had been fun, thought, and not half as awkward as Wonwoo had expected it to be. In fact, talking to Seokmin and Vernon had felt so natural, like he blended right into their dynamic, laughing about old memories they shared together (like that one time Mingyu had fallen into a vegetable stand in some remote village on a trip to the mountains and had pulled Seokmin into it as well trying to get back up, or when Wonwoo and Vernon nearly got arrested for drunkenly trespassing onto a private school’s playground) and listening to what has changed in his friends’ lives. It felt nice to reconnect this way, finding his old friend group again, and remembering a time when nothing seemed as heavy as it did now. Seeing Vernon and Seokmin fall over each other in laughing fits, the youngest leaning towards him to regain balance, had lifted the weight of Wonwoo’s general existential melancholy off his shoulders. He’d really basked in the feeling of being introduced to their home.

And he got those heavenly leg warmers that he is now pulling over his shins in the changing rooms of the Kumdo dojang he just had a session at.

“What the hell are those,“ Jihoon asks, looking at him through the mirror where he’s fixing his jet black hair. Everyone in their friend group has jet black hair, except for Jun, which makes them look like a flock of ravens infiltrated by a turtle dove when they all hang out together. They all kind of dress like that, too. Grandpa vests amongst leather and ripped fabric. A real sight to see.

“They are leg-heat tubes and the loves of my life,“ Wonwoo replies to his friend. “I wish I could wrap myself up in one, my body has never been hotter.“

Jihoon snorts, then groans, as he sits down on the bench rubbing his shoulder. 

“You seemed pretty heated up when you plastered your stick all over me,“ he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that many bruises from sparring with you. I swear you used superhuman force there.“

“Not my fault you haven’t trained in ages and spend your free time binging anime.“

“I work out more than you,“ Jihoon grumbles as he takes his juk do to wipe it clean. It’s one from the studio, because the one Jihoon used to fight with when Wonwoo first met him here either disappeared under his bed or broke, Wonwoo isn’t sure. At least he still has his dobok to wear, since the spare one Wonwoo has would not have fit him.

It’s been a while since the two of them found time to spar together like this. Wonwoo had picked up Kendo in Japan, and found a place to continue training as soon as he’d come back to Korea. Kumdo was really the same sport, except the gear and commands had different names, which had confused him at first, but then he’d met Jihoon who had taken it on himself to educate him in that grouchy way of his. They’d taken to meeting each other at the dojang once a week, becoming friends over the routine, until their academic lives got more and more demanding and they had to interrupt the regularity of their sparring hours. Wonwoo had been able to keep training from time to time, but Jihoon’s work alongside his studies hadn’t allowed him to find any energy to get beaten with a stick when he had some moments to spare in between assignments and deadlines. 

But today was finally the day he’d texted Wonwoo and asked him to come to the dojang with him for the first time after nearly a year. He wanted to “get out of that stuffy, distracting apartment“ and clear his head, and Wonwoo had only readily agreed to help him out by reactivating his rusty Kumdo muscles and totally wipe the mats in the studio with his friend’s ass.

Which seems to have worked.

As Jihoon gets up to put the juk do back into the basket where the weapons are stored, he grunts and staggers a bit, making Wonwoo laugh. 

“I don’t care how hard my assignments get, I am never doing this again,“ the shorter laments. “It’s better to get my ass kicked by those than by your skinny legs, at least they make money.“

“My legs are not that skinny anymore, Jihoon, you saw them three minutes ago,“ Wonwoo retorts. In the mirror his friend was previously standing in front of, he retraces his waterline with one of the eye pencils he always has with him, and combs through his hair with his fingers so it doesn’t stick to his sweaty forehead too much.

“At least you got some fresh air blown into your brain, I guess.“

Jihoon sighs. “I really need new input on that project, I’m just circling around the same shit ideas that aren’t even worth handing in as a final. And the other people in the department are too busy to be of any help.“

Wonwoo puts on his jacket and holds the door open for his friend so they can head outside, lifting his hand to the dojang’s elderly owner at the front desk in passing.

“I told you times and times before that I can help you out with your music when you need inspiration, I am literally made out of inspirational music.“

He gets a disbelieving snort as a response.

“Not to burst your bubble, Wonwoo, but all you do is judge me for my lack of knowledge regarding non-mainstream music and I really can’t have that.“

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes.

“I need someone cool to help me here, seriously. You’re so snobby about music,“ Jihoon continues.

When the taller looks up, the cold sky looks like the surface of a frozen lake that children went ice skating on. Clouds and smog colour it grey with streaks of white, and the air tastes just like you would imagine minus degrees to taste like, biting and clear and feral. Their exhalations form white wisps hanging from their lips, and Wonwoo doesn’t even think of taking out a cigarette because he knows it would settle into his mouth like frost if he smoked now.

“Yeah, sure,“ he says with an amused grin. “I can get you cool.“

*

“No offence, but when Wonwoo said he’d find me someone ’cool’ I did not exactly imagine his ballet dancer friend,“ Jihoon greets rather bluntly.

“Nah,“ Vernon says while Wonwoo stifles a laugh, “I’m cool.“

“Well,“ the shorter replies with a shrug, “you can’t be worse than Wonwoo anyways. Sit down, I guess.“

Wonwoo shoots Vernon an apologetic look and lightly kicks his friend's shin where he’s sitting in the recording studios.

“He went out of his way to come to uni and offer you some help and you don’t even introduce yourself properly. Who raised you?“

“My mother did a perfectly good job educating me to be a polite little boy, but I already know Vernon, we met on Halloween, as you’ll maybe remember.“

“We did,“ Vernon interjects. How dare he not back up Wonwoo when he’s nagging his friend. “But you were kinda busy keeping your other friend in check, so…“

After a bit of silence, where Jihoon just incredulously stares up at the younger, Wonwoo bursts out laughing, observing how Vernon grins at the music major who seems at a complete loss for words.

“I mean, he’s not wrong. All of us were also really drunk, so I think it wouldn’t harm getting to know each other first,“ the oldest says, throwing his bag on the sofa next to the desk and mixing console Jihoon is sitting at. “After all, I brought Vernon here to help you with your finals project, maybe it would help if he knew what it’s about.“

Vernon looks around the small room intently while he takes off his jacket. He seems a bit tiny and lost in here, not really where he belongs to, so Wonwoo pushes one of the extra chairs behind him and piles his friend’s stuff onto his own. Jihoon sighs and fiddles with his fingers, glancing at Wonwoo who has settled himself on the sofa with a history book. When Vernon tentatively sits down on the chair Wonwoo brought for him, the shorter turns to him and exhales forcefully.

“Alright, it won’t do me any good if I keep being awkward, so I’ll just get to the point right away: I have to write, mix and produce an EP, with at least four tracks, and make clear which style I am aligning each piece to, and at least two of them need to have lyrics as well. So far, I have three and a half things started, and two of them sound exactly the same, so I need to get out whatever EDM hole I fell into.“

While Wonwoo snorts about that, Vernon sits up straighter.

“Until when do you have time for that?“ he asks.

Jihoon waves his hand nonchalantly. “A few months, nothing to worry about, but my prof wants the drafts and an exposé on them by next week, so I need to come up with at least one more piece that doesn’t sound like shit pretty quickly.“

Vernon nods, and Wonwoo observes how he leans forward attentively, looking at the files on the two computer screens in front of Jihoon. It’s not the first time Wonwoo is seeing his friend producing his music, but it’s enough of a rarity that he is curious about the conversation. He expects Jihoon to dive right in, show Vernon what he has written so far, to splay out his music sheets with crossed out notes and colourfully highlighted pointers in front of him and to explain to the younger how his gadgets work. 

Instead, Vernon asks about the references.

Wonwoo groans.

“This is the reason Wonwoo is of no help when I work here,“ Jihoon says. “He thinks it’s heretic that I get inspired by Justin Bieber or Zara Larsson songs.“

“They’re uncreative and overplayed.“

“You have a stick up your entitled punk ass and don’t want to see us plebs have fun.“

“You don’t listen to punk music?“ Vernon interrupts.

“Not really,“ Jihoon replies, ignoring Wonwoo’s complaints in the background. “It’s not bad, but I usually can’t concentrate to it. Wonwoo knows what my tastes are, so he’ll send me recommendations from time to time, but it’s not like he’s trying to convert me or anything.“

Vernon hums pensively.

“I guess the vocal melodies could get repetitive and boring with artists that specifically cater to a mainstream market,“ he says, and Wonwoo startles at the self-assuredness of his tone, looking up from his text on traces of rice mutations in stone age pots as a time stamp. Suddenly Vernon seems to know exactly what he’s talking about when he pulls out his phone to look up the artists Jihoon just mentioned, and he seems perfectly at ease in the studio after sitting next to Jihoon for a mere five minutes. Wonwoo is, honestly, surprised, as he’d just thought Vernon’s wide ranging taste in music would just help his friend find new ideas. “I remember Lush Life, it had a really good track, and the Bieber album that came out in 2015 wasn’t necessarily badly produced, he’s just sort of a prick and flooded the radio.“

The more Vernon talks, the more Jihoon straightens in his chair, and the more Wonwoo’s jaw drops. He cannot seriously be taking a rational stance on fucking Justin Bieber. The younger is analysing him like he’s worth it, and he’s doing a good job at it, too. Very unexpected stance, he finds, and even more unexpected that Vernon knows so well what he’s talking about. As much as Wonwoo gives his friend shit for his music taste, he has no idea how writing music works and respects him a lot for it, so Vernon knowingly discussing music production like that is rather impressive to him. 

“The fact that a whole range of songs with the same beat and chord patterns came out at once made them sort of unbearable in that moment,“ the youngest continues, “because it didn’t have any outstanding variety, and the constant remixes got overwhelming and dull at the same time. If you have different genres mixing into your project, that’s not gonna be a problem tho.“

Jihoon’s eyes are fixed on Vernon in amazement. Wonwoo can practically feel his motivation levels rising, energised by the other’s explanations.

“What are your thoughts on Bruno Mars?“ he asks Vernon, leaning back into his revolving chair like he didn’t just ask the most crucial question in his book.

“Emotional,“ the younger one replies, “but sort of a genius at all of that.“

“A gold mine!“ Jihoon exclaims, turning to Wonwoo. “A fucking goldmine is what you brought in!“

*

They end up working on Jihoon’s drafts for nearly two hours more, Wonwoo merely throwing in a “that sounded good“ from time to time and smiling at the way his friends get along so well, listening to the songs Vernon plays for Jihoon and working on his own assignments with their focused exchange as background noise. 

When they exit the building, it’s already dark outside. Granted, it’s the end of November, so nightfall at seven in the evening isn’t too much of a surprise, but it’s late enough for Wonwoo to notice the slouch in Vernon’s shoulders, the hands buried in his coat pockets, and the way he keeps squinting his eyes at nothing in particular. Wonwoo had chosen a day to bring his friends together where he knew that Vernon would come directly from Mr. Hong’s shop and didn’t have ballet training, but the exhaustion still seems to have followed the younger boy onto campus. 

So, Wonwoo suggests eating out. The three of them head to the soup place Minghao had shown him a while ago, chatting about everything and nothing in particular, pulling their shoulders up to their ears against the cold. Vernon seems completely at ease now, showcasing perfect manners while eating and still pulling out his phone to show music to Jihoon when the conversation drifts into that direction.

“One of your songs kinda reminded me of this,“ he says while Jihoon is still finishing his soup. Wonwoo recognises the drawling voice of the singer as he leans closer to Vernon to hear the song he’s playing, something english with blending beats and lowkey instrumentals, and Jihoon listens attentively, blending out the noises of the restaurant around them to finally nod and say “Oh, I see what you mean, this is really good.“

Vernon looks proud of himself. Silently so, but Wonwoo notices how he hums to himself, pointedly not looking any of them in the face, and how he seems to suppress a smile when he takes another spoonful of stew. He likes Vernon like that, relaxed and happy and unconcerned, talking freely with his friend and with Wonwoo himself. When they head to Wonwoo’s car later, he half expects Vernon to shut down a bit again, but he keeps talking like he did when Jihoon was still around.

“I really had fun,“ the younger says when he buckles his seatbelt in. “Jihoon hyung does really cool stuff, thanks for letting me tag along.“

Wonwoo chuckles. “I literally dragged you into the studio, I really think I have to thank you. Jihoon wouldn’t stop complaining for the last three weeks, so I hope he found some inspiration to work now. At last I am free of his laments!“

His last exclamation makes Vernon laugh. “Okay, Shakespeare, you were acting out of pure selfish reasons, I get it.“

When Wonwoo turns on the car to bring Vernon home, the vehicle is suddenly filled with Hayley Williams announcing a riot in near deafening volume.

“Is that ’Fast In My Car’?“ Vernon laughs, and Wonwoo joins in as he turns down the volume.

“Yeah, Jun must have left his CD in the slot when I drove him home the other day,“ he explains as he pulls out of the parking lot. The evening traffic has thinned out, so Wonwoo can follow the song’s suggestion and speed onto the city highway, at least until he reaches the first red light. The album plays the next song as they drive, and Vernon starts mouthing along to the words, a smile spread on his face as he looks out of the windows.

“Didn’t you have sort of a Paramore phase in high school?“ Wonwoo remembers, and his friend grins widely.

“I was so obsessed with that song from the Twilight soundtrack, thanks to my sister,“ Vernon says with a grin at Wonwoo, who grins back at him. “Somehow fifteen-year-old me retained every single word of that album for the long run.“

And he goes to prove it by singing loudly, unbound by embarrassment or shyness, bearing his exhilaration to Wonwoo, who nearly misses a turn from laughing at Vernon’s carelessness. He joins in, too, their voices both deep and mixing well together, breaking at the high notes that they can’t quite reach, loud and reverberating in their little metal shell. Wonwoo skips the slower songs to keep their flow going, and he keeps looking over at Vernon, takes in his happy expression, revels in the fact that he gets to see it.

He skips one more song, and the younger makes an appreciative “Oooooh“ when the next beat drops, and Wonwoo’s heart skips a little beat as he recognises what he has instinctively started to sing, no, shout the lyrics to.

It’s so cliche, he would groan and bury his head in his hands if this happened in a movie, but right now, nothing has ever been more perfect. In the heat of his car against the whitening cold of the outside world, he realises that his heart maybe doesn’t beat so fast because the music is loud or because he is driving a little too fast for the weather conditions. His fingers vibrate as the sound of Vernon’s voice wraps around them, around all of him, and it takes him everything to not just stop everything he’s doing and stare at his reddened cheeks, the glint in his eyes, the exaggerated gesticulations to perfectly underline the feeling of this song. Instead, he continues singing, sings like he owes it to somebody- “’Cause after all this time, I’m still into you.“ 

They imitate bass riffs and drum runs, act like the dashboard is the world’s greatest drum kit, nod their heads to the bridge, shout “some things just make sense and one of those is you and I“ at the world and maybe each other, build in awfully out of tune high notes that make them lose their breaths in laughter, and when the song ends Wonwoo looks at how Vernon does the silencio motion in fake grandeur, holds his breath until the younger opens his fists again and breaks out a loud cheer, laughing about the fun they just had singing one of the world’s greatest love songs to each other while the next song on the CD plays like nothing happened.

But it did. Something did happen.

It starts snowing.

When Wonwoo stops his car in front of Vernon’s apartment complex, the snowflakes look like stars falling out of the clouds. He follows Vernon out onto the street and turns his face upwards into the chilling caresses of the sky, filled with the wonder of a little child that can’t be suppressed.

“First snow of the year,“ Vernon whispers next to him, merely a hush of his voice.

When Wonwoo looks over to him, he sees how Vernon’s eyes are closed, a little smile tugging at his lips as he feels the snowflakes landing on his face. There is a streetlamp nearby that illuminates his sharp profile, but the white flurry around him softens him in this moment, and it envelops him as if the snow were falling just for him, just to have the chance to land in his hair and run down his neck into his clothes.

Vernon opens his eyes to turn to Wonwoo, and suddenly the light meets all of what’s important. There are snowflakes caught in his eyelashes, refusing to melt, and they frame his gentle, peaceful expression.

“Thanks for today, hyung. I really loved it,“ Vernon hums, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear him where he’s standing on the street, but not as loud as to disrupt the calm of the white street. Wonwoo nods, and stands to watch Vernon unlock the door and disappear into the warmth, and it’s suddenly like the lid of a big heavy chest springs open, pushed out of the way by everything stored in it, because he’s now flooded with a realisation that he wasn’t able to come to before. Maybe it was Vernon’s presence sitting on the lid that kept it from opening, because now that he’s gone, Wonwoo allows himself to think about what is happening in his chest, in his mind, about what happened just now in the car.

It’s not as hard to admit as his subconscious may have tried to tell him. In fact, nothing comes easier than admitting it, because in the end, it’s just a simple truth amongst many other true things.

The snow falls from the sky to the ground. A boot will leave a print in the humid earth. One pound of feathers weighs the same as a pound of bricks, and the Earth will always revolve around the sun.

Wonwoo is in love with Vernon.

Chapter Text

“Hansollie, come on, say hi. These are our new neighbours.“

“Hm.“

“I’ve got a son you age, I’m sure you’d get along great.“

“I’m older than him.“

“Wonwoo-“

Wonwoo is still floored. Well, not exactly floored, since he’s laying in bed, but there’s definitely some disbelief lingering in him. But it’s not only that. It’s also relief. And some fear, maybe. Or some leftover denial? No, definitely fear. He’s letting the feeling wash over him nonetheless, and it’s close to being overwhelming: I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love.

It’s a complicated mess, and Wonwoo sighs as he stares at his bedroom ceiling that is faintly illuminated by the street lamps outside. In about an hour, they’ll turn off, and he’ll have to stare into heavy, suffocating darkness from then on. Better sort his shit out quickly. 

One of the cats jumps on the bed and climbs up to his face. The alarm indicates that it’s 1am, which means that Kimchi-Jjigae should get his late night zoomies soon, and Napoleon had disappeared onto the top of the tree right after Wonwoo had fed the kittens when he came home four hours ago. Which leaves Earl Grey to nose his cheek before rolling into a bundle against the crook of his neck.

Rubbing his chest, Wonwoo inhales deeply. He tries to remember when he first met Vernon. He’d been a scrawny kid back then, with his brown hair covering his ears and falling into his eyes all the time, and so marvellously disinterested. So it had been easy for Wonwoo to ignore him, 14 and dead set on contradicting his mother, at least until curiosity had taken over and he just had to get to know the kid. Fresh from America and always glued to a gameboy, Vernon had become the talk of the school, and the guys in Wonwoo’s grade had wanted some inside info from the newbie’s neighbour. And now fast forward eleven years and three cats in a cardboard box and Wonwoo is in love.

Still.

Again?

He thinks of that rainy afternoon when he’d run into Vernon after nearly a year of radio silence, and of how his heart had nearly leaped out of his throat at the sight of his hair peeking out under that yellow beanie, his reddened nose, the toothy grin when he’d recognised him. He’d thought he’d been over it, over his fluttering feelings that had followed him throughout college with the dancer, but maybe they were never really gone, just buried deep inside of him underneath much more present things like uni and work and his friends. Maybe Vernon’s inquisitive eyes, or the way his gums show when he laughs real hard, made the emotions surge up from their slumber, like a bear hibernating in a cave that gets tickled awake by the first rays of the sun in spring.

When Wonwoo sighs heavily again, The Earl sighs back at him. He turns onto his side, careful not to wake her, and pets over her soft fur. If cats can purr in their sleep, she’s definitely doing that.

He’d missed Vernon. Not enough for him to get over his anxious inhibitions and reach out to him, but definitely in a way that had knocked the breath out of him when all of a sudden, texting him about weird history facts or asking for movie recommendations wasn’t impossible anymore, when his days weren’t held back by the distant thought of “I wish I could-“ and he was able to just reach out, and find Vernon waiting patiently.

Something clenches in his chest, and he chuckles dryly into the silence of his bedroom. Vernon had such a hold on him then, and it feels like he’s the one that is still not able to let go. It shouldn’t be a sad thing, to have a crush on somebody, to be in love with them, but Wonwoo would much rather be friends without getting plagued by anxiety, without getting haunted by heavy high school memories, without being constantly worried about holding himself back. It hasn’t even been two months since he’d found Vernon again, he isn’t ready to be found again by the heartache as well. “It’s about the longing,“ Soonyoung would say, and Jun would wisely add “The yearning“, but, simply put, fuck that. Not again.

Another cat jumps onto the bed. Little meows accompany the soft rustling of baby paws on the cotton sheets, and then Kimchi-Jjigae settles on his pillow with a loud purr that vibrates through his skull as the kitten nuzzles into his hair.

“Where did you leave Napoleon?“ Wonwoo asks sleepily, and hums back at Kimchi-Jjigae when he voices an intelligible reply.

The street lamps turn off. The door creaks as the last kitten pushes into the room, and a memory of snow melting on rough gold blooms before him. It’s the phantom of Vernon’s laughter that lulls him to sleep.

*

“Ah, fuck-“

One of Vernon’s shoelaces rips when he tries to take his shoes off. Right between his fingers. How that is even possible, he has no idea, and a prickle of nostalgia flashes through him when he thinks of the velcro shoes he used to have when he was a kid. They were green and yellow and his sister called them ugly, but he remembers that she once drew stars with a red marker on the white parts. Good times. Maybe velcro should make a comeback on the shoe fashion market. 

For now, though, he has to replace that shoelace with one of the spares they store in the shoe rack. He finds orange ones and swiftly pulls them through his Nikes. They look cool, flashy. He likes it.

Vernon sighs when he stands up, or maybe it’s a groan. Today hasn’t even been that hard on him at the studio. In the afternoon, the tailor had come by and pulled them out of training individually to start costume fitting, and as Vernon’s outfit is one of the most elaborate, it had granted him a longer break from training. Doesn’t mean that the three tailoring apprentices and the creative supervisor running around him during that time didn’t tire him out.

“How did yesterday go?“

“Oh, hi Seungkwan,“ Vernon startles. The blonde is leaning against the door to the bathroom, eating an energy bar, which he promptly holds out to Vernon.

“It was cool, Jihoon hyung is really nice, I had a lot of fun with him and Wonwoo hyung,“ he replies, before taking a bite. It’s cherry, which is a little odd, but it will last him until dinner, which Seokmin has hopefully already planned. “His project is really cool, he could show me a lot of the stuff he works with.“

Seungkwan grins at him, before pulling Vernon down by his sleeve to give him a quick kiss.

“That sounds nice. Hey, do you want to watch a movie with me? Seokmin refuses to watch it because he says he’s loyal to the drama adaptation of it, which sounds very prejudiced to me.“

Vernon sets down his bag in his room and grabs his sweatpants. He wants to take a shower, maybe play Battlefront with Seokmin or in single player mode while just chatting with his friends about their days, eat, and sleep, honestly. The coming practice hours are looming over him and already exhausting him, but hanging out with Seungkwan is part of his day now, too. So he smiles and says ’yeah, sure’ and gets on with it. When he spaces out and misses a good twenty minutes of the movie because the crook of Seungkwan’s neck is just so comfortable to lean into, his boyfriend pouts at him and scolds him for missing the part where the second male lead’s backstory is revealed, but it’s lighthearted and in good fun. Vernon apologises with words and a peck on the blonde’s nose and focuses on his comments instead of how blinding the TV screen seems, or how loud the clinking of the dishes when Seokmin ventures into the kitchen to cook something. 

That evening, Vernon is alone in his bed, Seungkwan having left for game night with his roommates that he already missed twice since they’ve been together. As he’s listening through his spotify playlists, flipping the pages of the Arthur Elgort picture book his father got him for his seventeenth birthday, his boyfriend sends him selfies of himself and two pretty girls with trendy glasses and short bobs gathered around Halli Galli messily set up on the floor. It’s been ages since Vernon has played that game, and it reminds him of playing it with his family and the neighbours, of Joshua beating every single one of the players except for Vernon’s mother and the boys teaching their little siblings the rules of overly complicated card games that Wonwoo picked up from his dad.

Seokmin comes into his room and flops onto his bed face first with a groan.

“You good?“ Vernon asks with a chuckle, glancing at his friend from his half sitting position.

“Yeaaah,“ Seokmin muffles into the mattress. “Just watching Ben Platt performances and crying because he’s just so good.“ He turns his head to look up at Vernon. “You?“ he asks back.

Vernon sighs and sinks further under his duvet.

“Just tired.“

Seokmin smiles at him, not pressing the issue any further. “Take care,“ he tells Vernon when he returns to his own room after chatting for half an hour.

It’s not eleven yet. Vernon motionlessly lets Spacecraft by Abhi the Nomad play out before he turns off the music and sets his phone to the side to sleep.

*

On Friday, Vernon is leaning over the counter in Mr. Hong’s shop. He’s only got the morning to work, and business is sorta slow at this hour, so his employer lets him play his own music under pretence of showcasing the stereos they sell. It had been Vernon’s idea in the first place, suggested with an innocent little grin that Mr. Hong had just rolled his eyes at, but they’d actually sold some sets this way. 

However, instead of playing the soft hip-hop he usually opts for, Vernon lets the shop be filled with György Ligeti and Camille Saint-Saëns instead, swaying lightly as Yo-Yo Ma sets flight to the swans with his bow, raising onto the tips of his shoes while he dusts appliances, lifting his elbows to create a perfect curve that reflects in the little window of the break room door. He has training this afternoon, but today he lingers in the shop longer, eating his lunch there instead of the 7Eleven like he usually does, passing the time until he really has to get going. He’ll probably be late, but his body feels so sluggish and heavy, he wonders if he’ll even be able to lift a foot onto the barre.

Mr. Hong finds him while he’s having leftovers from Seokmin’s vegetable curry in the break room, staring at a grainy recording of Margot Fonteyn dancing with a broom.

“Hansol!“ he exclaims, pulling out his own to chair to sit next to him. He throws a quick glance at the video and smiles brightly at Vernon. 

“It’s December next week, isn’t it?“ the shop owner says, stating the most obvious. Vernon only nods, before Mr. Hong continues. “I’ve already bought the tickets for your performance, we’re all excited to see you. Jisoo will be there this year again, too, he’s coming from Incheon in two weeks already, you’ll be able to meet.“

“That’s great,“ Vernon says, already sensing what his boss is trying to get to. He’s honestly happy to hear that Joshua will come back so soon, though. It’s been since the summer holidays that he hasn’t seen his friend, bound to the scholastic calendar as he is, and he misses hanging out with him and catching up on each other’s lives in a messy mix of English and Korean while they rewatch their favourite episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It’s going to be hard to fit that into his busy schedule, though.

“You need all the time you get to prepare yourself, my boy,“ Mr. Hong picks up again. “So, until the New Year, I don’t want to see you in my shop again, unless you need to get presents for your family.“ When Vernon tries to interject, the shop owner shushes him. “Relax all you can, I’m not going to put more work on you, you know that. It’s the same every year, so pack your stuff and get to practice so I can brag about my talented employee on Christmas.“ He points at his watch, which indicates that Vernon already missed the bus that arrives at the studio in time for him to change peacefully. He’ll just have to rush through the dressing room. 

As Vernon stuffs the tupperware into his backpack and throws over his coat, his boss sighs. “Imagine having a month of paid vacation,“ he says, to which Vernon grins.

“You’re your own boss, Mr. Hong,“ he replies, walking towards the shop entrance.

“I said paid vacation, Hansol! The shop isn’t likely to make money all by itself!“ the owner laughs, and then regards his employee with a measuring look.

“I’ll see you Christmas Eve,“ he says from the counter, watching Vernon leave.

The dancer shortly waves at him. “Thanks boss. Have a good time.“

Snow pierces the warmth of the shop, and Vernon quickly pulls the door closed behind him. On the way to his bus stop, he wraps the long scarf Seokmin got him for his last birthday around himself, pushing his beanie over his forehead. The seats on the bus are laden with electricity when he sits down, pulling up his feet on the bench. He doesn’t notice the two old ladies leaning towards each other and whispering about his muddy shoes disdainfully, his mind focused only on the grey snowflakes sinking lethargically onto the roofs of passing cars like they’re putting up a listless act. His hair sticks up in odd angles when he finally arrives at the studio, where Chan is waving his hands and urging him to hurry up, and Madame Seo clicks her tongue disdainfully.

“Second time this week, Hansol-ssi,“ she says, but lets Jeonghan begin the warm up routine without any other comment. Chan grins at him, and Vernon smiles back. He’ll be warm soon.

On Saturday, Vernon is on time to training. Early even. 

He’d woken up at four in the morning, unable to fall back asleep, and too restless to lie on his back and listen to Seungkwan’s breathing next to him. Silently, he’d grabbed his long johns and the lined track suit with the ballet company’s logo on the front and taken a run through the streets that were only illuminated by the snow, his breath, and the lit up windows of insomniac office workers. His throat had burned when he came back to the apartment, where he found Seungkwan still asleep. He’d taken an early bus and shot his boyfriend a text for him to find when he woke up at nine like a normal student would, and since now fifteen minutes he’s been warming up on the empty parquet.

Jeonghan startles slightly when he sees Vernon in the silent studio. His hair is sticking wetly to his forehead, indicating the downpour Vernon can hear from beyond the windows, and his ears are reddened.

“I lost my hat,“ he says when joins the younger at the barre.

“I have a spare,“ Vernon replies, and lifts his leg towards the blank ceiling.

On Sunday, Seungkwan asks if he can see recordings of some of his performances. Vernon watches himself at thirteen, sixteen, twenty-one years old, flying over stages and spinning stories with his legs. His limbs feel heavy as his boyfriend leans against him and makes amazed noises, celebrating each performance like it happened live. They’d spent the day inside, drinking hot chocolates and helping Seokmin learn his lines for the musical, Seungkwan doing Connor’s parts because he was laughing too hard to be able to have any more lines than that, and Vernon reciting Zoe with surprising ability, at least until he misread an indication and had his friends howling with laughter when he delivered one of the most depressing lines in the paragraph with way too much enthusiasm. The only time they had ventured outside was to smother each other’s faces with fresh snow and freeze their limbs off because none of them actually put on a proper coat. When Seungkwan had tried to kiss him, Vernon had slipped onto the road because he was trying to dodge his boyfriend’s icy lips, which sent Seokmin down as well from laughing so hard, while Seungkwan had regarded Vernon with an indignant look, complaining about not being loved enough.

Vernon yawns heartily when Seungkwan looks through a collection of photos that show Vernon before and after every performance he has ever danced, capturing the way his cool expression before the show, that only betrayed his nervousness by the way his lips were pressed together firmly, has barely changed over the years. Eleven-year-old Vernon looked just as much like he was too polite to reveal that he was about to throw up as last June Vernon did, only the costumes got more elaborate. His mother had too much fun making this collage, but Vernon is thankful for the snapshots she included of him that show his varying expressions after the performances: upset from a mistake, elated from receiving a prize, sneezing into a bouquet of flowers, and radiating with pride and pure strength, handsome, dishevelled hair, his shoulders straight, his face with an earnest smile.

“It's a good thing your boss gave you time off,“ Seungkwan says with a gentle look at him. “I think you really need that time for yourself. I’ll beat up anyone that tries to make you work on Tuesday.“

His fiercely scrunched eyebrows make Vernon laugh, and he replies “Thanks, you’re my knight in shining armour“ before yawning again.

“God, go to sleep,“ Seungkwan laughs, hitting him on the shoulder. “We’ll hang out some other time, don’t worry.“

Vernon watches Seungkwan’s face from his lying position for a while, trying to figure out what is happening in the drama he starts watching and that is silenced by his earphones through his immersed expressions alone. It’s not working. 

So instead, he pulls out his phone and texts Wonwoo.

*

“Can’t believe it’s December tomorrow. I’m not ready for the additional trauma that getting presents is gonna inflict on me,“ Jihoon groans. “If any underclassman tries to rope me into some secret santa schemes I’m gonna throw their ass out of my tutorials.“

“Every single underclassman is taller than you, Jihoon,“ Wonwoo retorts. Vernon snorts.

“My stress levels are high enough to make up for that,“ comes the reply, which makes the youngest laugh out loud. The shorter raises an eyebrow at him before he turns back to his laptop, and Wonwoo leans back into the roughed up armchair, giving Vernon a curious look while sipping from his gigantic cup of black tea. They’re sitting in a café some streets from the hipper student spots, and the walls are plastered with ancient posters and band shirts while I Wanna Be Sedated by Ramones plays in the background. The person that handed Vernon his latte over the counter has a headful of neon orange spikes and three lip rings. Wonwoo fits right in, Vernon smiles at that.

It’s Tuesday again, but this time, it’s eleven in the morning. Vernon had asked what Wonwoo was doing that day, and when the older had replied that he was just killing time together with Jihoon between lectures and meetings with professors, Vernon had grabbed a jacket and taken the bus to campus, just to tag along.

“We’re both only gonna do homework or something, it might get boring,“ Wonwoo had said when he’d picked up the younger one at the stop.

Vernon had just shrugged and said that was just as fine to him. He wasn’t out for any adventures, anyway. Just wanted to get some fresh air.

His latte is hot against his upper lip, and he observes how Jihoon stares at his laptop, dragging files around, and how Wonwoo leans over to his friend to look at whatever he’s showing him, before settling back into the armchair and reading a paperback novel with yellowed pages that he’s folding around, bending the back to hold it one hand while he twirls a pencil in the other. Sometimes, he furrows his brow in concentration and brings the book closer to his eyes, and then goes to worry his lower lip between his teeth. When the playlist in the café shifts and the first line of the next song is a resounding “I’m about to have a nervous breakdown“, he huffs in amusement, still not looking up from his reading.

Vernon is pulled out of his contemplations when his phone vibrates with a text from Seungkwan. He’s using a lot of exclamation marks and emojis, which makes him grin, to tell him that his last class of the day is cancelled because the composition professor needs to babysit for a relative, and asks how Vernon is doing. The dancer frowns. He hasn’t told Seungkwan that he is out. Seokmin knows, he’s seen him leave the apartment, after all, but it’s not his job to inform Vernon’s boyfriend about the latter’s whereabouts. He doesn’t know what to text back. A small voice somewhere informs him that he’s practically within walking distance of Seungkwan right now, but the music overpowers it. Wonwoo turns to Jihoon to show him something on his phone. In the end, he just texts him a “good, reviewing performances rn“ back, which is technically not a lie. His tablet is laying in front of him, a video paused on the part where he and Chan are at the height of a jump, arms curved over their heads, torsos proudly raised. His front leg isn’t stretched high enough. He knows that when he unpauses the video, the landing will be unclean and his feet will nearly collide. He’s watched this part enough times already. When he sighs, Wonwoo glances quickly at him, a gentle question masked with respectful distance.

“Soonyoung is sleeping over at my place for a few days,“ he mutters into Jihoon’s general direction after looking at his phone again. With the amount of reading he still has to do, he should better mute it, but his friend is in a situation right now.

“He never asks me if he can stay at my place,“ the younger grumbles, not looking up from his laptop.

“I’m pretty sure he’d be too uncomfortable, Jihoon. You guys have weird shit going on and you never even mention it.“

Jihoon looks nearly angry when he looks at him. “Because there is nothing worth mentioning. I don’t get why he should feel weird.“ On the other side of the table, Vernon silently raises an eyebrow, which the two don’t notice.

Wonwoo regards his friend silently. It’s not his business if Jihoon doesn’t want to talk about it, but Soonyoung sure has different opinions regarding their relationship. He’s not going to force Jihoon to explain himself though, so he just replies “He’s gonna come here when his lecture is over, I’m gonna help him pack some stuff. Get your homework done if you don’t want him to suggest song titles again.“

Jihoon giggles at the reference. “That album could have been titled “Animal Farm“ if he’d gotten his way. I don’t understand why he had to read political dissertations for a social studies course, but the material sure did stuck with him.“

Soonyoung had hated reading those, sitting on Wonwoo’s couch while he was gaming, and whining about the workload. For days, every single thing anyone in their friend group had said would have been accompanied by a comment on the similarities of their statements to whatever Marx or Solow had once said. Teasing him for that had been a special pleasure of Minghao’s, who would say the most controversial things to watch his friend scramble for a fitting reference. In the end, Soonyoung had received excellent grades in this course, so his learning methods had once again proven right. There were still some files with creative names like “A snake just like Castoriadis“ on Jihoon’s computer that he still hasn’t deleted, though.

“I’m so over this shit,“ Jihoon sighs, pulling at his ear restlessly. “Literally what the fuck is indie-pop supposed to be. Those two statements completely contradict each other.“

Wonwoo groans into his book. “Jihoon, you once wrote a song that sounded like a whole Sufjan Stevens album. You literally produce indie-pop when you’re grumpy.“

“You listen to Sufjan Stevens?“ Vernon asks before Jihoon can snap back.

Wonwoo looks up in surprise. The younger had been immersed in the videos he’d been watching the whole time, so Wonwoo hadn’t expected him to actually pay attention to their talking.

“Uh, yeah,“ he replies. Vernon is looking at him intently, his expression perfectly neutral, and he can’t read him right now. It makes him nervous, to be scrutinised by the younger like this, and it reminds him that a week to take care of coming to terms with the feelings was definitely not enough. “I like his lyrics. Age of Adz was one of my favourite albums when we were in college.“ 

Vernon nods. “He’s cool,“ he simply replies, to which Jihoon snorts, and then proceeds to look out the window of the café where some students in big coats are hurrying through the street. While Jihoon talks about his music history professor’s lack of digital presence, Wonwoo watches how the establishment’s muted lights fall onto Vernon’s calm profile. When he isn’t engaged in any conversation, his face often takes on an air of disinterest, of indifference, or, to a more optimistic observer, just of being zoned out. Wonwoo knows him better than that, though. He knows him to be one of the sharpest people to be silent, ever since they were highschoolers and Vernon picked up on the older’s arising troubles with the teachers just by passing him in the halls, and he is well aware that not a moment passes where the younger isn’t analysing or pondering over something. Contrasting that elusiveness, Wonwoo’s face in these occasions of silence gives away that he is thinking. It usually doesn’t take long for people to figure out that his intimidating look really just stems from his appearance and his resting bitch face, paired with a glint in his eyes that gives away that he is, indeed, paying attention. But him and Vernon, they are both silent around other people, more often than not. They listen instead.

“What are you watching?“ Wonwoo asks the younger, and Vernon’s eyebrows shoot up. He’s abandoned his own dancing videos a while ago, rewatching a performance on YouTube that has already ingrained itself in his brain with the amount of times he’s seen it already.

“Rudolph Nureyev,“ Vernon replies, looking down at his tablet where the dancer presses a piece of cloth against his face in pure ecstasy, throwing his head back entirely blissed out by the smell of a nymph lingering in it.

Wonwoo catches how Vernon’s eyes darken briefly, with something that is frighteningly close to hurt, or bitterness. He doesn’t say anything for a while, waits until the tablet’s screen darkens and Vernon blinks at it like he was in a trance.

“Is it good?“

Vernon looks up. He doesn’t notice how Jihoon stares at the two in confusion, and he doesn’t hear Soonyoung’s entrance into the café. All there is is Wonwoo’s mouth that is curved ever so slightly in the promise that whatever is happening right now, it’s fine, he’ll be fine.

“Yeah. It’s great.“

*

Vernon hurries out of the studio to reach his bus. He only briefly waves at Chan, who playfully shouts “Don’t forget your tights tomorrow!“ after him. Vernon huffs irritatedly when he jumps onto the bus. He already missed the one he usually takes because was caught up reviewing one part over and over while the younger dancer was giving more or less helpful pointers from where he was training with Seulgi. He presses his eyes closed in frustration. Chan doesn’t mean to be a know-it-all, he’s aware of that. They’re all perfectionists, ballet dancers are trained to be that way. It’s the reason he stayed nearly an hour longer in the first place.

There are texts from Seungkwan, classical music memes that make him grin and a lot of “I miss you“s. The blonde had last seen him this morning, rode the bus with him because he had an early appointment, and is now probably on his way to his own apartment from choir to work on his composition assignment. It’s typical of Seungkwan to document his day in their chat, and to interject it with emotional messages for Vernon to find after his work. The dancer asks how full Seungkwan’s bus is, since he knows that the blonde hates it when it’s crowded, and tells him that he stayed at practice longer. He considers telling him about the way he felt pressured by the other dancers today, but when Seungkwan replies “You were supposed to take it easy!“, he puts his phone away and waits until he can finally step into his bathtub and tune out any noise his thoughts might make.

When he arrives at the apartment, Seokmin is stepping out of a car and looking at him in surprise.

“You weren’t home yet?“ he asks after he’s waved the girl behind the wheel goodbye.

Vernon shakes his head. “Had troubles,“ he mutters, fumbling with his keys. 

“Hey, dude, calm down,“ his friend shushes him, opening the door easily. “We’ll order something you like for dinner, take your bath and don’t move a finger, I’ve got you. I’m sure Seungkwan wouldn’t mind coming by either -“

“No,“ Vernon interjects too quickly, his breath stocking at his own vehemence.

“- he already nearly finished his assignment in the library,“ Seokmin tentatively finishes his sentence. He regards Vernon with a worried look as they climb up the stairs to their apartment, and grabs his hand when the dancer closes the door behind them a bit too loudly.

“Vernonie, you look exhausted all the time. Please take the free time your boss gave you and take care of yourself, and ask for my help. You know I’m always there for you.“

Vernon does know it. He hugs his best friend briefly, gives him what he hopes is a reassuring look, and trudges towards the bathroom.

“I just need sleep, that’s all.“

Seokmin isn’t necessarily calmer when Vernon’s lullaby is some rapper in minor key. On top of a mountain with a reaper, it resonates into their empty hallway.

*

December broke in with a biting cold against Vernon’s lungs. His hands are dry and they feel caged in when Seungkwan holds them, and all he wants to do is bring them to his chest to warm them against his racing heart. It’s barely been a month, he told himself. It’ll pass. Seungkwan is sitting next to him on the couch and laughing at the picture of Soonyoung with bleach plastered hair Vernon is showing him and Seokmin, and his eyes crinkle in a way that compresses the room until only a blinding white spot from the overhead lightbulb is left. That morning, Seungkwan had been the one to leave the bed first, to run his fingers through Vernon’s hair and whisper a kiss onto his forehead, while Vernon had finally been able to sleep in, not having to go to work. He feels awake when he looks at Seungkwan now, while they’re eating pizza and watching Mamma Mia, imitating Cher’s voice when she sings, to celebrate the approaching end of the students’ winter term. 

He sees clearer now.

Vernon is attracted to Seungkwan’s melodies when he speaks, the variations of his spirit, the key of his laughter, and the staccato of his silence. He’d told Seungkwan that, the night he’d first slept over. Everything was open with Seungkwan. Except, they came to see, maybe Vernon himself.

Seungkwan doesn’t react violently when Vernon breaks up with him. His legs are crossed on Vernon’s bed, his hands buried in the sheets, and his jaw is firm. 

He doesn’t look at Vernon when he nods.

“I… get it,“ he replies. “We were acting differently after we got together. I see it.“

Vernon’s heart shatters a bit. “I’m sorry,“ he whispers, but he doesn’t try to reach for the blonde. He keeps his distance, because he sees the other struggle to keep his composure, and he wants to grant him at least that. He knows getting broken up with sucks. It won’t help to tell Seungkwan that they’ll be better off as friends, even if it’s the truth. They’d be perfect friends.

Seungkwan finally looks up, and his eyes shine wetly. “I love you,“ he says, and Vernon wants to break down instead of having to hear him say it. “But it’s no good, I get it. This wasn’t the right time for either of us.“

Vernon inhales deeply. Fuck. Fuck. It’s hard. “I enjoy being with you, Seungkwan, really. But I… had a hard time keeping up with you.“ God, that sounds so stereotypical. ’It’s not you it’s me’, when it was the both of them. But Vernon needs Seungkwan to know this.

“I don’t want you to think- Your energy isn’t something that makes you bad. I just thought I could get more like you because of it, and it felt really good while we were burning. But… in the end, that wasn’t the right thing to strive for. And I don’t think that would have been possible.“

They fall silent, and Vernon fears he has mispronounced his feelings that he was just now able to word for the first time, until the shorter chuckles dryly. 

“I’d like to say no hard feelings, because I don’t want us to stop talking, but I’ll be really down for a while before I can be rational about this again,“ Seungkwan says. Then he gets up from the bed and grabs his coat and bag. 

“I’m gonna tell Seokmin that I’m heading home, alright?“

Vernon nods. Even though his voice was quiet from where he’s standing in the doorway, Seungkwan is still standing straight, his feet firm to carry him home, shoulders pushed back. Vernon admires him in that moment, like he’s never admired anyone before. 

Seungkwan smiles at him one last time, his eyes conveying a soft ’sorry’, and Vernon whispers “bye“ at him, before Seungkwan pulls the door closed.

The sheets are wrung into an angry mess. The snow outside his window produces white noise in Vernon’s ears. He pulls his feet onto his desk chair and rests his chin on top of his knees, staring at the floor where Seungkwan just walked out. The door opens again, dark green socks shuffle in, and Vernon finds Seokmin staring at him with an unspoken question.

“Was he crying?“ Vernon asks quietly, and his roommate inhales sharply, a flurry of emotions battling across his face.

“No,“ he replies before he leaves again. 

Right. He’ll wait for that until he’s home.

*

He can’t fly anymore. Something weighs him down, maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s anxiety, maybe it’s loneliness. Fact is that when he jumps, all he feels is how his feet hurt and his neck is tense and stiff from holding his head up high all the time.

The studio was supposed to become his refuge. Vernon spends hours of additional training there, since the break-up, but instead of securing him, the mirrored walls that point out every little mistake he makes have become his enemies. Jeonghan acts like it’s just fatigue, and the girls keep saying that he’s doing great, the mistakes are minimal, he shouldn’t worry, he still looks amazing. Bora gives him an entire container of cut up persimmon one day after practice that he leaves on the kitchen counter for Seokmin to eat. Chan tries to get him to go out for drinks, but he always gets shut up by his seniors who reprimand him for even thinking of alcohol two weeks before the Christmas show. Time is pressing, everybody keeps saying in subtext.

But going out would be just what Vernon needs right now. Or at least, staying out.

Out of the apartment.

Vernon has gone through all of his records twice already, skipping over songs and turning the volume up to short of deafening when he puts on his old raggedy headphones that crack awfully when the needle is up, so Seokmin doesn’t have to hear his thoughts first thing upon entering the apartment after his classes. He lingers a bit too long on Harry Styles’s “Woman“ before he switches to Kero Kero Bonito and replays “I’d rather sleep“ when the record ends. He ignores his room and pulls the box with his ages old ballet gear out of his closet to dig up private recordings of Nijinsky that one of the older dancers once burned onto DVDs from the school’s videotapes he somehow got access to and distributed among the younger trainees for the low low price of secrecy. The recordings have no sound, so Vernon watches the ballerino halt time in the air while Sarah Midori Perry remarks that this isn’t the right place.

And she’s right, it’s not.

Vernon knows that he’s done the right thing by breaking up with Seungkwan, at least for himself, and deep down he feels good about it, and relieved. But after nearly two months where the other had been a near constant resident in this apartment, in this very room, the abrupt and total absence of him sure gets to Vernon. It doesn’t help that Seokmin trudges around him and is hesitant to start any sentence that might even touch the subject of his university. Vernon doesn’t hold it against him, though, because he does understand the conflict his roommate is in. Seungkwan is his best friend, and since Vernon had been the one to break up, that sort of incriminates him further, but the older also seems to understand his friend’s reasoning. His solution is to prepare and order meals that align perfectly with Vernon’s dancer diet, suggest playing video games that he knows the other will win anyway, and not be bothered when his roommate spends hours in the bathroom.

His bathtub seems to be the only place he can really relax in, as it isn’t really a space he shared as much with Seungkwan. But as his thoughts start drifting to the talks they’d have while he was preparing the hot water and the blonde would just watch him, he looks for conversation to distract him elsewhere.

Seeing Wonwoo on campus again isn’t an option,  especially since he apparently always hangs out with Jihoon and Jihoon always hangs out in vicinity of the music department, and there isn’t enough time for them to hang out any other way since Vernon is in the studio so much, so they text a lot. Wonwoo seemed to have been surprised that the younger was the one to reach out so often, sending “Everything good?“ when Vernon would just text him the most inconspicuous “yo“, but now he has settled into a routine of sending pictures of the kittens and asking what songs Vernon was listening to at the moment. He also keeps him up to date on whatever shenanigans his friends are roping him into.

Vernon interrupts the remix of some Kirin song to watch a video his friend has sent him. His hair is still wet from showering after his Saturday training and little water droplets drip onto his phone screen when he passes his hand through it before leaning back on his bed to watch how Soonyoung seems to be trying to teach one of the cats how to roar. The dancer chuckles as Wonwoo’s voice resounds deeply from behind the camera.

“Soonyoung thinks that Kimchi-Jjigae is the most likely to look like a tiger when he’s older,“ he explains, “and I can’t help but feel like he’s teaching him bad words.“

“I don’t know about you, but this feels like sexism,“ a different voice says off camera, and Vernon gets to listen to Wonwoo’s loud laugh, at least until the camera pans to a guy with a black mullet sitting on the windowsill and Wonwoo shouts “What the fuck Minghao, don’t lean out of the window with Napoleon on your lap!“ The phone gets dropped and Vernon is outright giggling when suddenly Soonyoung’s face appears on the screen.

“Hi Vernonie, I need you to back me up, everybody says that I gotta dye my hair back to black because I don’t look good with bleached hair, which is definitely not the truth.“ Then the camera pans to the cat on the couch that is playing with the frills of Soonyoung’s ripped jeans. “Kimchi-Jjigae says hi!“ is what he last hears before the video ends, leaving Vernon with a small grin.

vernon

tell soonyoung hyung that he looks great, but his roots will kinda ruin the whole thing

Jeon Wonwoo

See, we keep telling him, but he’s too proud to admit that he fell victim to a mental breakdown the other day

He’s says he’s finally entering his quote-unquote “rebellious phase“

Vernon kind of laughs at that, because that definitely was a mental breakdown that Wonwoo’s friend went through, but he also knows that Wonwoo was the one to actually bleach the hair, more than happy to help create some chaos under the guise of a clean slate after Soonyoung had basically gotten kicked out of his apartment and moved all of his stuff to Wonwoo’s place. His living situation is sort of precarious at the moment.

vernon

he could dye it some other dark color

blue or something

that’s still rebellious right

Jeon Wonwoo

Rebellious enough for him, I think

One last picture of Napoleon Bonaparte on the windowsill (the window is finally closed) next to the pretty guy, Minghao, who is showing the photographer the middle finger, and then Vernon throws his phone next to him. The music had started to play again after the video ended, and now a melancholy organ announces Frank Ocean's Bad Religion.

Dear fuck.

*

Vernon finally falls on Monday.

He seamlessly rolls over the floor and rises up to his feet in one swift motion, but his thigh still hurts from snapping his leg up too high. It’s fine, he tells Chan, and the instructor has them do it from the start.

He hates it. He hasn’t lost his balance like this in ages. His face is scrunched in concentration and frustration while he dances the same thing again, throws his partner into the air, skips over an outstretched leg, then overturns his pirouette and enters the next position uncleanly.

“Hansol-ssi!“ 

The music restarts, loops endlessly between Vernon’s ears, makes him bite his teeth together. It just doesn’t work.

Madame Seo hates it, too.

“The show is in less than two weeks, Hansol-ssi, I did not choose you for this role because I wanted to see you slack off! Where is your tension! Why aren’t you keeping up!“

Vernon doesn’t know. Chan stares at him with wide eyes, Jeonghan leans against the mirror with his arms crossed, his instructor is waving at Minhyuk to come over, his replacement. They dance side by side. They’re equally good. The piece stops with an ugly crashing noise and everybody startles.

His body hurts, and so does his mind.

*

“Hyung, do you have a bathtub?“

“Uh. Um, yeah, why do you ask?“

A heavy sigh travels through the receiver.

“I’m sore as fuck and today was shit, I’m coming over. I need the cats.“

*

When Wonwoo opens his door, Vernon stands before him in a sorry state, drenched to his bones, hair sticking to his face. He has dark rings under his eyes and a crease between his eyebrows.

Wonwoo extends his hand as the younger enters, and takes his bag from him wordlessly when he doesn’t react. Despite being rid of the weight, Vernon’s shoulders stay slumped forward. Wonwoo wants to hold them in his hands and make sure his friend doesn’t crumble, just wants to lift the frustration off his face like a veil.

Vernon mumbles a quiet “thanks“ when Wonwoo takes his coat, too, and stares at the little puddles forming at his feet when he takes his shoes off without unlacing them.

“Um, the water should be good,“ Wonwoo says when the younger is done, and pushes his glasses up.

Vernon’s whole demeanour changes. His face flattens, no longer marked by worried valleys, and his eyes flicker over Wonwoo’s face. He looks so very young and vulnerable when he raises his eyebrows tentatively and says “Really?“

Wonwoo swallows. He feels like he shouldn’t be seeing his friend like this right now, so he turns sideways and waves his hand towards the bathroom door next to his open bedroom, trying hard not to mutter so he doesn’t become another burden on top of whatever Vernon is dealing with right now.

“Yeah, I got you clothes, they’ll fit, I hope. Give me your stuff too so I can dry it. Take your time.“

Vernon looks at him for a beat longer, and then nods, and then smiles.

“Thank you, hyung,“ he repeats.

“Don’t worry,“ Wonwoo replies with a scratchy throat.

*

It’s not hard for Wonwoo to not let his mind err anywhere close to the bathroom where Vernon is currently taking a bath. Under any other circumstance, he would probably be pacing the living room and try not to combust at the thought, but at the moment, concern for his friend overweighs any unfitting musing about a crush. All he is able to do right now is to think about what he can do to help while he waits on the couch and scratches Napoleon behind her ears. The rice cooker is still filled with rice, and there’s enough kimchi and other side dishes to eat. He bought anchovies the other day, even though he doesn’t particularly like them, and he could make eggs. Hopefully Vernon can eat those things - provided he feels like eating at all.

However, even if Wonwoo is on his best, most innocent friend-behaviour right now, it still sets his heart aflutter when Vernon steps out of the bathroom enveloped in a cloud of steam half an hour later, with rosy cheeks and barefoot, and in his clothes. The longsleeve’s shoulders are way too wide and sit halfway on the younger’s elbows, and the crewneck that is already oversized on Wonwoo slides to the side to reveal Vernon’s neck and his collarbone.

Wonwoo gets up and does the first thing he can think of: hand Vernon a cat.

Napoleon loudly meows as he buries his face in her fur, reminiscent of her behaviour when she was the first cat in the wet box to greet Vernon, and Wonwoo can hear him inhale deeply as he walks to the kitchen.

“Where’s Soonyoung?“ his friend asks as he follows him.

“I sent him over to Jihoon’s,“ Wonwoo explains. “He’s got a spare room and no social life, Soonyoung will be taken care of. They need to get their shit together and realise that living together isn’t an out of this world idea anyways, since Soonie needs a new place to stay now, too.“

He feels Vernon’s gaze on him, how it follows his hands as he gathers the food and dries some dishes before setting them on the table. When he looks up, he finds Vernon sitting against the doorframe with all the three cats gathered on and around him, completely immersed.

“Hey,“ Wonwoo says softly. “You wanna try and eat? It’s not a lot, but-“ He stops himself.

Vernon looks up, and then gives him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I will.“

They don’t talk a lot during dinner. Vernon occasionally asks where certain dishes come from and how Wonwoo’s mother is doing (since the kimchi is, of course, from her), but they otherwise eat quickly and quietly. When Vernon gets up to put the cutlery away, Wonwoo shoos him away from the sink and guides him into the living room by the hand instead, where he procures a hairdryer that he promptly plugs in, sitting down on the sofa and motioning for the younger to sit as well. Instead of settling down next to his friend, however, Vernon sinks onto the floor in front of Wonwoo and closes his eyes, leaning his head backwards the slightest bit. Wonwoo refrains from running his fingers over Vernon’s eyebrows and temples like they long to and instead goes to dry his hair, carding through the strands with his free hand to ruffle them. It’s kind of unsettling that Vernon smells of his shampoo, but Wonwoo sets the thought aside when the younger speaks up.

“I broke up with Seungkwan.“

The hand on Vernon’s skull stills. After a pause, Wonwoo replies: “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you were dating.“

Vernon chuckles dryly. He isn’t quite sure what that says about the relationship they’ve had, but on the other hand, he can’t blame the older for not knowing what he was never told.

“I honestly don’t know why I didn’t really tell anyone, but I suppose that was already an indication that it wasn’t too right.“

The hairdryer turns off, and Vernon pushes his hand through his hair. Earl Grey tentatively trudges towards him, probably startled by the loud noise, and finally pushes against his open hand.

“Is that why you’re down?“

Vernon can hear the hesitation in Wonwoo’s deep voice, and it reflects on his face as well when he turns around to face him. He knows the other doesn’t want to pressure him into talking about anything that might put him down, but he seems to sense that Vernon needs to talk about it, too. His hands are resting loosely on the sofa, his expression is calm, and he’s looking Vernon straight in the face, eyes dark and reassuring behind his glasses.

The younger looks down. “Yeah, I guess that’s mainly it. I know I was the one that broke up, but I still feel shit about being alone again.“ He hears Wonwoo inhale and in the next moment, he’s sliding down from the couch to sit on the floor close to him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just waits for Vernon to elaborate, and it’s easy to continue talking when you have an attentive listener, so Vernon lifts The Earl into his lap and goes on.

“I still really like him, but as a friend, and even if we did have a lot of fun at the beginning, it started to feel like I was forcing it. To be romantic, you know.“ Vernon thinks about all the times when he’d be laughing at a joke with Seungkwan and the atmosphere would get heavier and the blonde would lean in to kiss him, or when he’d intertwine their fingers while watching movies and Vernon would feel like he needed both his hands to be free in order to concentrate on the action. He still thinks Seungkwan is one of the funniest people he knows, and that he’s great to mindlessly talk to, but that’s what he wants their relationship to be. Not more.

Vernon sinks against the couch and furrows his eyebrows. “He used to be in the apartment all the time, and it’s pretty weird that he’s gone now. So like, I do miss hanging out with him. It’s been a shit week, all things considered.“

In Wonwoo’s lap, Kimchi-Jjigae is tossing and turning and clawing at the front of his wool sweater. Talk about reading the room. Wonwoo notices as well and envelops the cat’s face with his hand, rending him immobile for a second before he somersaults away. Vernon can’t help but grin.

“Do you feel any better now?“

He looks up. “Hm. No. Not really.“ Upon seeing his friend’s widening eyes, he shakes his head quickly and speaks up again.

“No, like, right now I feel okay, but it’s going to take some time getting used to it. I’m just not sure if relationships are just lost on me at this rate. The last one I had took me a while to get over, but it was already pretty bad to begin with. Breakups are just bound to suck. It was probably the same with you and Mingyu hyung.“

Wonwoo splutters, and coughs, and stammers, his ears getting increasingly red.

“I never dated Mingyu, what- why did you think-?“

“Oh, I just thought. You guys seemed pretty close in college, and he talked about you all the time when we hung out.“

The older rubs his neck. “I mean, we were close, we still are, but we were never- ah, well we weren’t really a thing, it was mostly just from his side, I guess. I didn’t date him.“

Vernon just nods, a small grin sneaking on his face. “Alright, I get it,“ he says with a playful, knowing face, and Wonwoo groans and falls on his back with his hands covering his face, whining that “no, you don’t“ and laughing lightly. He pulls his sleeves over his hands when he rolls to the side, his hair falling into his eyes, his glasses crooked.

“What did you mean that relationships aren’t for you?“ he asks.

He receives a cynical huff as an answer.

“The last guy I was with kind of cheated on me, and I still felt like it was my fault months later.“

Wonwoo shoots up. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean to pry.“

“No no, it’s okay,“ Vernon waves off. “That was three years ago. I’d just started school again and he was one of my seniors and kind of took me under his wing. Everybody thought it was weird that he liked me so much, so I behaved kinda distant in the end, too.“

It’s old memories, and Vernon really hadn’t expected to talk about Jimin tonight, but here they are. It’s weird that he always ends up talking about his past when he’s with Wonwoo. Maybe it’s the older’s calm demeanour, the security that their long friendship brings, that is so reassuring to Vernon. He thinks about his past relationship with his dance senior, how he’d seemed to love the fact that Vernon was younger than him and inexperienced and had to learn from him. Jimin had treated him like a novelty and made him feel like someone that belonged on the stage to be looked at and celebrated, but it had taken a patronising turn the longer they stayed together. Wonwoo doesn’t act like this towards him. Despite the similar age gap, he regards him as a total equal and always makes sure Vernon is comfortable, like now.

“That must suck if you guys still dance together, tho,“ the older now says with a pensive expression.

Vernon shakes his head. “He left to go international, I haven’t seen him in a year. He was by far the best dancer at our school, and the National Ballet had their eyes on him for ages, but he got snatched up by Paris. I still learned a lot from him, at least.“

“So one good thing to come out of the story, great positive attitude, I like that.“

Vernon’s smile falters a bit. Today’s failures in the studio still weigh on him, and he still doesn’t know how to deal with that. Surely, some of it stems from his frustration about the recent break up, but he shouldn’t be this affected. And if he doesn’t solve whatever problem blocks him, he’ll have to relinquish his spot on the stage to let the company have a perfect show. But he doesn’t want that. He wants to present himself and his skills to the whole world and show what he’s capable of, and above all, he wants to feel the orchestra in his bones and the stage-lights that carries his steps into the air. Giving up on this opportunity would kill him, but so is currently this condition that paralyses and drains him.

“Do you want to come see me on Christmas?“

“I’m sorry?“

“We have a performance every Christmas, and I get free tickets for all our shows. Would you want to come?“

Wonwoo stares at him, wide eyed.

“Yeah, yeah I’d love to.“

*

Training has ended, but Vernon stays. He goes into one of the smaller studios, where he won’t bother any of his co-dancers, and plugs his phone into the aux that connects to boxes hung into the corners of the ceiling.

It’s been a while since he’s just freestyled, so he puts on Jeonghan’s playlist with all the songs they’ve choreographed routines to. It’s piano, Ghibli OSTs, pop songs, to which Vernon vaguely remembers the steps, and he lets his muscle memory lead the way, switching to stretches and technical exercises when some parts don’t come to him. Some pieces he interrupts halfway through after improvising moves, some he skips altogether. When a calmer étude ends, a song he once created a duet to comes on, and he lets it play.

It’s not something he usually listens to. Seungyeon had chosen Lauv’s Love Like That for an exposition they had done this spring, and choreographing to it had been a demanding challenge, but together, they had managed to convey the emotion of the song in perfect synergy. 

Today, however, Vernon forgets about the choreo, and just spins, leaps, swoons, runs until his heart screams at him. His lungs ache, and tears creep into his eyes from the exhaustion, but he keeps going, throws his arms towards the ceiling like he’s reaching for the sun behind the snowy clouds of Seoul, lets his feet fly across the parquet, never-ending, until the song fades into the next and he sinks to the ground, chest heaving, throat burning, back unburdened.

Chapter Text

One deep breath in that roots his feet into the wooden floor. One deep breath out that sends him leaping through the air.

His arms are wings and his legs are a storm, precise like it was orchestrated by an ancient god, sent to twirl right underneath his steps. His bones are violins and cymbals and trombones, and his teeth hurt from the ecstasy.

“Gorgeous, Hansol, perfect!“ Madame Seo exclaims when he disappears behind the curtains, and Chan cheers even though he's still on stage. The kids in their costumes scramble towards the far off wall and try to stifle their excited giggle, and in the middle of them, Vernon feels his chest swell.

He’s done well. He’s doing well. He may not be showing it, already thinking about the costume change and nearly going under in the hustle backstage, but when he finally approaches the kids to give them all a high five and make them compliments for their performance, he can’t help the smile that grows on his face. It feels like everything is back to the way it was supposed to be.

Jeonghan finds him, already changed into the next outfit himself, and squeezes his shoulder. “Great job,“ he tells him, and Vernon feels so proud, and so immensely relieved. The slump that bound him has been vanquished, and he was the one to defeat it. It feels so good to taste freedom again. “Thank you, hyung,“ he replies, hanging up his cape so it can dry without wrinkling too much. The midnight blue shimmers between his lingering feelings, and he knows. He wont be held back anymore.

*

“Alright, let’s go!“ Seokmin exclaims, excitedly hopping up and down in the theatre’s lobby. Wonwoo has to crane his neck back to catch every detail of the high ceiling, and the people that are slowly moving towards the auditorium to take their seats are dressed richly, in suits and long dresses and even tailcoats and gowns. He feels slightly out of place, but being with Seokmin and also Seungcheol, who he has met approximately five minutes ago, sets him at ease. The older guy, who is apparently friends with a different dancer, has a wide frame and looks a bit unpolished, like he wasn’t made for suit and bowtie, but he still looks completely comfortable, so Wonwoo feels like he can relax around him. After all, he’s asked Minghao and Mingyu, who both dress drastically differently but very well, what is appropriate to wear to an occasion such as this one since he doesn’t want to put Vernon in a bad light for inviting him, and he trusts his friend’s judgement on that.

Also, Seokmin’s giddy mood that nobody else in the room seems to share makes him think that maybe, trying to fit into this posh environment isn’t absolutely necessary.

“The Nutcracker is my favourite ballet,“ Seokmin whisper-shouts, and Wonwoo grins at him.

“This is also the only ballet you’ve ever seen, dude,“ Seungcheol laughs next to him. “And that was at last year’s Christmas recital.“

The younger whines jokingly, and then sighs. “I know, I’m uncultured. But Vernon just looks so hot as the rat king.“

Wonwoo splutters.

“Sorry, the what?“

“The mouse king!“ Seungcheol reprimands, while Seokmin ignores the programme he’s getting hit with to look at Wonwoo curiously.

“Did Vernon not tell you he’s the rat king?“

Seungcheol whacks him again. “Jeonghan did not make me read the libretto four times for you to call Vernon the rat king. He’s a mouse.“

“Ow! So why does everybody call it the rat king?“ Seokmin hushes as they near the doors to their seats.

The air is already hot here, and the mix of thousands of whispers buzzes through the luxurious hall, swallowed by red cushions and the carpeted floor and spat back out by the clinking of jewellery. Resounding above it all, the orchestra is tuning their instruments, a controlled cacophony, the promise of an incantation. Wonwoo remembers parts of the Nutcracker, since his mother used to play it around Christmas time, ringing in a holiday they didn’t even celebrate, but he never bothered checking out the plot again after Vernon had invited him.

“Can we go back to the part where you said Vernon was hot? As the rat king?“ he whispers to Seokmin as they get seated, and his friend giggles.

“I’d show you the pictures, but you’re gonna see it now anyway,“ he replies, and Seungcheol still shakes his head. Seokmin catches it and turns to the older. “He is hot tho, right? When I picked him up from costume rehearsal I died a little.“

“You mean yesterday? Yeah, I saw that. But he really looks great, that’s true.“

Wonwoo can only lean back into his seat, trying to comprehend how Vernon - well, how anyone can look hot dressed up as a rat. Or a mouse, whatever. It’s not really clicking with him, so he’ll just have to wait. An electrical gong resounds in the room, and the heavy doors swing closed.

As such, the ballet is kinda creepy. Every conversation falls dead immediately, and only the click of the doors is heard. Even the instruments are quiet.

“Are you excited?“ Seokmin asks, low enough that Wonwoo isn’t quite sure if he even said anything. The lights are turned down, and so he just swallows the lump in his throat down and nods. Excited is an understatement.

There’s some movement happening in the orchestra pit, and Wonwoo watches the conductor climb his podium from where he’s seated close to the stage. He assumes that the seats are this good because they were saved by members of the ensemble, and he can see the first violin who is throwing her hair back after being introduced and still overlook the whole of the stage without having to risk straining his neck. The heavy, red curtains are still drawn, but the conductor lifts his little stick, and the entire hall seems to be halting its breath. The exhale becomes the orchestra’s first piece. And as it ends, the curtain drops and the dance begins.

Wonwoo is enthralled. He doesn’t know anything about classical music or ballet, but he recognises beauty, and it’s unmissable. The dancers move in absolute unison, perfect bodies moving in ways he can’t really comprehend. The costumes are adding to it, richly decorated and gleaming under the stage lights and the coloured lightbulbs of the Christmas tree in the background . One of the female dancers, who he assumes is the protagonist of the story, is wearing a longer white skirt that flares out when she spins, producing a flurry of colours hidden in the underskirt. Another character is wearing a dark blue velvet coat and has a pointy black beard sticked onto his chin, but Wonwoo has no idea who he’s supposed to be. Seungcheol is smiling fondly while he watches the dancer spin around the girl with the toy nutcracker in his hand, so it might be his friend. Due to the low lights and Wonwoo’s generally bad eyesight, the programme in his lap sadly doesn’t give him too much information in this regard, so he just keeps his eyes on the stage instead. He’ll just have Seokmin explain it to him later.

On stage, the pile of presents is suddenly deserted, save for the main girl who has seemingly fallen asleep next to the wooden nutcracker, and Seokmin gasps next to Wonwoo as the Christmas tree suddenly grows in size and a horde of children in grey costumes and mouse ears stream onto the stage and start tormenting the sleeping girl. Wonwoo chuckles in surprise. The dancer has now woken up and get chased over the stage by the children, the nutcracker forgotten, and the music becomes more threatening until a climatic boom resounds and onto the stage jumps the rat king, cheered on by the many small rats, waving his arms like an emperor and patting the kids on the head.

And Seokmin was right - he is hot.

Wonwoo’s mind blanks when Vernon appears on stage. He makes an entrance from the right, and distantly his brain is able to recollect that that’s the villains entrance, but from then on, all Wonwoo can see is Vernon’s legs in black tights that stride across the stage and his arms that are either wrapped in a shimmering shirt or directly painted with black glitter because he can see every muscle moving, and also, most of all, he can’t take his eyes off his face. Have his cheekbones always been that high? His chin that strong? His brows that prominent? His eyes that piercing? Wonwoo would like to pretend that he’s having any of these thoughts coherently, but in reality he's knocked nearly breathless, unable to do anything but stare at Vernon.

He’s glorious.

Vernon - well, the rat king - jumps around the girl to taunt her, lifts her into the air while she looks absolutely terrorised and kicks out her legs, and gathers his little ratlings until more dancers in soldier uniforms run onto the stage in formation. Vernon rights the crown on his head, a silver, gleaming thing with red gems and attached ears, before one of the little rats throws a sword at him that he catches out of the air and twirls around playfully. Wonwoo squirms in his seat. His face feels inappropriately hot, and he knows he has to store the sight away for later, but he still can’t take his eyes off Vernon. He nearly misses how one of the mice gets shot by a cannon on stage, and the loud bang of the orchestra snaps him out of his staring trance. The rat king angrily advances towards the toy soldiers, no doubt to avenge his underling's death, but then a new contestant jumps on stage from in between the red soldiers, and the girl nearly swoons at the appearance of the nutcracker with his painted on bared teeth.

Watching this dancer is fun for the reason that the guy himself can’t stop grinning while advancing towards his adversary, brandishing a sword of his own in a much more orderly manner than the rat king did. He’s a bit shorter than Vernon, but jumps just as high and has incredible control over his movements, apparent even to Wonwoo. He dances a bit with the girl, apparently bringing her to safety, before turning back to Vernon who stands tall and threatening. When he rips off his cape and throws it behind him in an angry motion, Wonwoo actually has to bite into his knuckles. Seokmin next to him chuckles a weak “oh my god“, which at least makes Wonwoo feel slightly better about being this affected. It’s not long before the dancing is what enthrals him, though.

Vernon and the other dancer have crazy chemistry. While the mice and the soldiers back off, the two of them take center stage, leaping towards each other and crossing their swords mid air, hopping up again to do twirls in the air as soon as they’ve landed. As the music rises, they chase each other across the stage in a narrowing spiral, doing barrel jumps that leave Wonwoo questioning gravity and flipping sideways in the air with their legs thrown forward, stretching their arms towards the duelling partner, until they meet in the middle of the spiral and the nutcracker flicks the rat king’s sword away with a swing of his own. Vernon dodges the jab that follows by sinking into a split, then immediately jumps up again to grab the shorter dancer around the torso and throwing him into the air.

“Holy shit,“ Wonwoo can’t help but exclaim breathlessly, and the lady next to him regards him with a shocked look, but he can only find it in himself to apologise after having observed how Vernon caught the other guy who had turned the other way around while being airborne. After that, he lifts the nutcracker once more, turning on the balls of his feet, before propelling his enemy from him and lunging for his lost sword. It is the last thing he manages to do. As the rat king stands up again to face the nutcracker, he gets distracted by the slipper the girls throws at him, and the soldier in his red uniform is already waiting behind him and plunges his sword into the black, fur-clad chest, fatally striking his adversary. Vernon sinks to the ground theatrically, one arm raised to the ceiling, the other gripping his chest, until he completely falls to the side, obviously dead. The girl jumps into the nutcracker’s arms, the toy soldiers celebrate him with very graceful twirls, and the little mice all run towards their fallen king, finally draping his own cape over him and dragging his body off the stage in a fashion that makes Wonwoo laugh a little. They’re just kids, so he shouldn’t make fun of them for trying their best, but he can’t imagine that it’s a painless progress for Vernon. After that, the soldier and the nutcracker disappear as well, but the man with the beard makes another entrance and apparently transforms the wooden nutcracker in the girl’s arms into a prince, appearing in the form of the dancer from earlier without the make up around his mouth. It’s a very sweet reunion, and when the curtain is finally drawn and the lights turn up, Wonwoo claps just as wildly as the rest of the spectators, and the auditorium is filled with the sounds of an enamoured mass of people that can barely await the second act of the ballet.

*

He’s left Seokmin and Seungcheol in the lobby after the dancers and musicians had bowed and the curtains had been closed for the last time that night to go to the garderobe, so Wonwoo is surprised to hear his name called. Whoever addressed him sounds just as surprised, though.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again here of all places,“ the person says, and Wonwoo turns to find Joshua grinning at him.

Wonwoo laughs. “I could really say the same about you,“ he replies, immediately opening his arms to hug his friend.

“Oh, god,“ Joshua huffs, “did you get broader? I don’t see you for a year and suddenly you’re all jacked and seem to have become all basic.“

“It’s good to see you, too,“ Wonwoo chuckles as he receives what he came for from the clerk, earning a curious look from Joshua, and making his way back to the lobby. “And excuse me for not wearing all black for once. I can fit in with rich people, if I want to.“

Laughter rings through the hall as Joshua, in a dark blue velvet suit, throws his head back and drapes an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Alright, I get it, I’m being a hypocrite. But you do look a bit unusual without all your piercings.“ In a further corner of the room, Wonwoo can see Joshua’s parents waving excitedly at him, and he waves back. His friend next to him sighs contentedly.

“Did Vernon invite you?“

Wonwoo chuckles, fidgeting with the cufflinks Minghao had insisted he wore. “I mean, I wouldn’t really have come on my own, honestly, but I’m here with his roommate and it’s actually pretty cool.“

His friend smiles, but there is something like doubt troubling the usually easy curve of his mouth, and Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him.

“He didn’t make me take off my piercings, if that’s what you’re thinking. I haven’t even seen him yet tonight, and he wouldn’t ask me to do that.“

Joshua stops in his tracks, turning fully towards Wonwoo. “I just didn’t know you guys were friends again. Last time we saw each other you were still pretty hung up about him.“

Something a bit like anger and shame at the memory and the fact that his friend knows about his age-long feeling without ever talking about it before coils up in Wonwoo’s stomach as he stares into Joshua’s soft face. He can see that it’s actual worry, but it still makes Wonwoo stand up straight and push his shoulders back out of spite.

“I’m not super sure what you’re getting at, but I’m fine. And so is mine and Vernon’s relationship.“ Joshua raises his eyebrows at that, and Wonwoo furrows his own, trying hard not to give anything away by blushing or any similar motions of his face.

“I’m happy to be around him again, and that’s all it is. Really.“

Finally, Joshua’s smile gets more relaxed, and he’s back in his easy mood.

“As long as you know what you’re doing,“ he tells Wonwoo with a pat on his back, and Wonwoo laughs at him.

“Do I ever,“ he replies, and they finally rejoin Seokmin who is nervously standing in a corner on his own.

“Where is Seungcheol?“ Wonwoo asks after the other two have greeted each other.

“He went backstage to see Jeonghan after you left, I’ve been here all alone for way too long. Some lady keeps smiling at me and it’s stressing me out.“

While Joshua laughs, Wonwoo looks around. The lobby isn’t as full anymore, but it is probable that they’ll still have to wait a while before the dancers come out.

“Is that a thing we should do?“ Wonwoo asks. “Go see Vernon backstage, since he got us the tickets?"

Seokmin giggles. “No, I think Seungcheol gets special privileges from being Jeonghan’s boyfriend person, I’m not sure if we’d be allowed backstage.“

Joshua, who has been following the conversation with a curious expression, suddenly clears his throat and points behind Wonwoo. “I don’t think it’s necessary anyway,“ he says, and Wonwoo turns around to see a side door opening to release a group of people in thick sweaters under fancy coats. Sure enough, there is Seungcheol walking along a slim man with a wide grin, along with the girl that had the main role in the ballet. 

The people that are standing nearby start clapping as they recognise the dancers, and Seokmin next to Wonwoo whoops enthusiastically as he falls into the applause. Joshua chuckles, and finally, followed by his mother and his sister, Vernon steps out. 

Seokmin calls out his name and waves at him, Wonwoo feeling the motion behind him, and when the dancer looks up, his eyes fall onto Wonwoo first as he’s getting pulled out of the crowd of dancers and family members by his sister, and suddenly, the room only consists of the grin that grows on his face as Vernon recognises Wonwoo.

*

The applause is deafening as he bows. They had him change back into the costume he wore during the duel with Chan, sans the cape, and he knows that he stands out in between his co-dancers in their colourful and light outfits as he steps forward on his own and swoops down into a reverance. The spotlights are fully directed at him, and he feels perfect under them, exposed in the best way. He only showed the best of himself tonight, and if the confidence oozes out of him, so be it. He has every right to be confident. He was so good tonight.

When the curtain finally draws to a close, everybody hurries to the flickery backstage, into their changing rooms, and finally, after a silent pause, breaks out into cheers. The girls fall onto their stools and throw off their pointe shoes, immediately starting to massage their feet, people sigh about a mistake that was made, others congratulate each other for doing well, and everybody is relieved. Chan falls into Vernon’s arms, deflating like a loud, ecstatically laughing balloon.

“That was SO sick!“ he exclaims, and Vernon joins in to his laughter. “I nearly knocked off your ears with my sword, imagine if they’d just fallen on the stage in the middle of our fight!“ Vernon hears a shutter click, and Jeonghan waves his phone with a little grin and mouths “for your mom“. Chan, who of course registered the camera, immediately starts posing, until the whole company seems to have gathered around Jeonghan to take a selfie of them all.

Madame Seo is pleased, even joined one of the pictures, and wanders from dancer to dancer to give pointers and praise while they stretch one final time before finally being allowed home. The kids all left already, of course, and Vernon receives several “thank you“ messages from mothers with attached pictures of their child in their mouse costumes.

“How are we?“ he asks Chan and Jeonghan as they change and massage each others’ backs and calves.

“Sore as fuck,“ Jeonghan says. “Having me play Uncle Drosselmeyer was maybe the best decision Madame ever made, I’m definitely getting old.“ Chan, youth personified, has the audacity to nod with a somber look, which earns him a punch against the shoulder from Vernon. Seconds later, the three of them are involved in a play fight until a stern voice joins them.

“Good to see that none of you have subdued any serious strains,“ Madame Seo says, before waving a hand over her shoulder. “Jeonghan-ssi, your fiancé.“ Behind her, Seungcheol, who must have been let in by one of girls, bows with a stutter and denies her statement, but melts into a smile as soon as his friend rolls his eyes at him and saunters over gracefully to meet him.

“He’s gonna be surprised when Jeonghan hyung pr-“ Chan starts, very quickly stopped by Vernon’s hand on his mouth.

“Volume control,“ he explains to Madame Seo as she turns towards them with a questioning look on her dignified face, while Chan wriggles out of his grasp with a suppressed laugh and finishes laying out his props for the next day.

“You did very well tonight,“ the instructor says, and Vernon looks up to her from where he’s sitting, make up wipes in hand and still shirtless. He can’t help but smile, only lightly, but he’s sure it still conveys how thankful he is. His teacher never lost faith, after all, and she offers him a small smile, too. “I will see you tomorrow.“

When she’s gone, patting Chan fondly on the shoulder in passing, Seungcheol smiles at Vernon and offers his hand to pull him up.

“There’s some stunned boys waiting for you,“ he grins. “Let’s go.“

*

Joined by family who was waiting in the hallway that leads from the backstage area to the main lobby, the dancers finally step out. Greeted by cheers, Vernon easily distinguishes Seokmin’s fading ginger head, his friend waving excitedly at him. There’s also Joshua, who grins broadly, and then, in between the two, with a reverent expression that seems so startingly raw and open in his bare face, Wonwoo, who slowly pushes his shoulders back as he beholds him in the crowd.

Seokmin sweeps him into a hug as the dancers bid each other a good night and disperse across the lobby, and Joshua pats his head as Vernon laughs out a muffled “Hi guys“.

“You were sooo cool,“ Seokmin gushes. “Wonwoo hyung couldn’t even close his mouth.“

Joshua laughs before he turns to greet Vernon’s family, only adding “I’ll easily believe that.“

“Can’t deny it,“ Wonwoo says when Seokmin lets Vernon take a breath. “You were cool with the, uh, when you had the sword.“ Seokmin snorts and goes to congratulate Chan, who he has only met once before, with a last thumbs up to Vernon.

“So you liked my sword the most?“ Vernon grins, observing gleefully as Wonwoo shifts on his feet with a little, embarrassed laugh.

“I mean it, you were really impressive. It was great watching you.“ The way he words it makes something in Vernon’s chest rumble, maybe even heat up, but he doesn’t have any time to identify what it is before Wonwoo holds out a bouquet towards him. Vernon makes a surprised noise as he sees orange, yellow and red flowers smile warmly at him, and he carefully takes the wrapped stems. He doesn’t even think of the fact that he’s going to start getting a stuffy nose in some very short minutes, until-

“They’re paper, don’t worry, you’re safe. I wanted to get you something, but plastic flowers are shit, so.“

Vernon looks up, dumbfounded.

“Did you fold them yourself??“

Wonwoo laughs nervously. “I mean, not all on my own, but yeah, I guess it’s kinda obvious. Origami was never my greatest strength.“

He’s right. The flowers aren’t all folded the same, some look like they were glued together out of singular petals, and many of them are creased. It’s still impressive, though, and Vernon looks at the bouquet carefully, somewhat touched by the thought.

“It’s still rad, hyung. Thank you.“

Wonwoo grins, looking at Vernon’s and Joshua’s families standing together a bit to the side. “I guess I should say hi to your parents. Let’s see if they’ll recognise me.“

His playful concern makes Vernon laugh. “With all the pictures we still have hanging around in our house? Don’t worry about that.“ He then takes a closer look at Wonwoo. It’s strange, unfamiliar seeing him in a suit, so out of his usual style. He’s taken out his piercings, only the bar through his brow glinting in the luxurious lights, and his hair is combed back carefully, revealing his chiseled face, his eyes that suddenly look much rounder and startlingly unveiled with only the slightest trace of eye shadow. With a start, Vernon realises that Wonwoo went out of his way and dressed up like this for him, and also that his friend definitely grew out of of the lanky emo boy whose photographs are still pinned to Vernon’s cork board in his childhood bedroom.

“You look good, Wonwoo,“ he says, because he doesn’t want his sentiments to go wasted, and he feels like he needs to say it out loud, and Wonwoo smiles back at him, wide enough for some teeth to show.

“So do you, Vernon.“

*

Christmas passes in a stressful flurry. There’s three more performances of the nutcracker for the next two days, and after that only a small time to breathe before their last performance on New Year’s Eve. Luckily, this one is scheduled earlier in the evening, allowing the dancers to head home with their families or to celebrate with the troupe, if they want to. Vernon had joined Seokmin in their apartment after his first performance, favouring how close it is to the theatre in regards to how tired and spent he was, and Wonwoo, who had driven Seokmin to the ballet in the first place, had given them a lift. It was funny to see him in his cleaned up, chic woollen coat and the nice leather gloves hold open the doors of his meek, beaten car for them, but Vernon had managed to grin as little about it as possible and humoured Wonwoo’s gentlemanly act. The next day, Joshua had picked him up and driven him to the Hong family’s residence, brimming with guests, and celebrated Christmas morning together with their two joined families before heading back to the theatre by bus. It’s a lot of fun, being this busy and still being fulfilled by the work, but it still pulls Vernon’s energy out of him. After the performances are over, he crashes in his room for two days in a row.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?“ Seokmin asks from the door to Vernon’s room, where he’s lying face down on his bed. “You kinda look like you’re gonna die, it would be sad if you did that on your own.“

Vernon laughs heartily and pushes himself up, only to groan at the sharp pull in his back. “No, please,“ he says, waving a dismissive hand. “You go be a slut at your party, I’ll support you from home base.“

Seokmin lets out a startled laugh and moves into Vernon’s room to look at himself in the mirror. “Wow, you seem to have picked up more from Seungkwan’s vocabulary than I thought you would. And I’m not asking that badly for it, you’re exaggerating, right?“ Vernon grins at his roommate’s back, feeling strangely settled at the accidental mention of his ex.

“Well, someone has to hype you up if he isn’t here,“ he replies, and Seokmin sighs.

“Trust me, he manages to do that just fine.“

Vernon laughs again, turning onto his back with a bit of difficulty. His shoulders HURT. “I’m serious tho, don’t let my condition ruin your night. It’s New Year’s, go kiss Haseul.“ He ignores Seokmin’s spluttering as he contemplates the ceiling. “I think I’ll just take another bath. Chan isn’t gonna be any more alive than me to hang out, anyway, so I’ve got nothing else to do, really.“

He can see Seokmin move in his peripheral vision, and suddenly, his face replaces the popcorn ceiling. “Good thing you pay for the water bill,“ he grins, before placing a quick peck onto the younger’s forehead and skipping out of his room. “Happy new year!“ he calls, leaving a giggling Vernon behind.

He could have done something with his family tonight, since they’re still in Seoul, but he knows that his sister is meeting some of her own friends tonight and Josh had asked to meet him the next day, probably planning to get absurdly drunk with old study buddies and anticipating that Vernon would have been too spent for that. And as much as he loves his parents and Joshua’s as well… no. Alcohol induced middle-aged-people-sentimentality isn’t what he wants to ring in the new year with.

With a huff, Vernon finally sits up. If he takes one more bath today, his bones will either turn into jelly or his head will overheat, so he looks at the clock instead. It’s 9pm, and he could really just spend his evening eating take out and binge watching some show on Netflix, he thinks as he jumps out of his bed to take a look at the menus they store in the kitchen. Or clean up his room, it dawns on him as he nearly trips over a framed drawing Dani, one of the kids from the ballet, gave to him after today’s performance. His room may look… slightly disgusting, he realises, and he sighs. Right. New year, new him.

Clearing the mess that has accumulated itself around his bed is actually pretty fun. After he’s taken out the actual trash and stuffed his laundry into the washing machine their landlord lets them use, Vernon mostly just sits on his carpet, looking at the backs of comic books trying to remember if they’re his or borrowed from a friend, collecting a surprising amount of working ballpoint pens, and bopping his head along to his shuffled playlist, Sophie's Ponyboy absentmindedly, eventually mouthing along the sparse lyrics of Infatuation as he brings order into his record shelf. It doesn’t look all that bad, he thinks to himself as he finally stretches his arms over his head and overlooks his room. He’s ordered udon from the restaurant down the street a while ago, and has now nearly reached the end of the next album he shuffled on Spotify, currently completely butchering the lyrics to the Rosalía song, throwing in a “cuerpo“ and “nombre“ here and there. The only thing left now after he’s gotten rid of the take out box as well is Wonwoo’s flowers, so while he hums along to the song, Vernon contemplates what he’s supposed to do with them. He’s not going to throw them away, obviously, since his friend must have put a lot of work and time into them, but he knows that his freshly dusted windowsill is going to be covered in dirt again soon enough if he just puts them there.

At a loss for any better option, he texts Wonwoo. And despite it being past eleven, Wonwoo promptly video calls him.

“You can literally do anything you want with those flowers, Vernon, I’m already flattered that you’re hesitant to throw them away.“

Vernon laughs at Wonwoo’s unconventional reply to his text, and lets himself fall onto his desk chair with an oof. His legs still feel sore from his work the past week, and finally sitting down after his, admittedly, super strenuous cleaning mission feels good.

“No, I really think it’s cool that you made those. I’m gonna keep them for a while until I know what to do with them.“ Through the phone screen, he can see Wonwoo push up his glasses with a sheepish grin. “Are you not out?“ Vernon asks abruptly, realising that Wonwoo is in his own apartment and nobody seems to be with him.

Wonwoo looks around, as if just noticing that he is, indeed, all alone. “I mean, I didn’t want to leave the cats on their own,“ he replies, “since I don’t know how much the fireworks later might scare them. And as much as I love the guys, they would definitely stress out the kitties.“

His concern makes Vernon grin. “Cute,“ he says, watching as the older completely stills in the corner of his frame before his face reappears completely.

“Anyways!“ he exclaims, making Vernon startle a little. “Why are you not out? I know for sure there are some parties going on tonight that Seokmin could have pulled you to.“

They keep talking like that for the better half of an hour, Wonwoo holding a cat after the other into the camera for Vernon to coo at, and in turn burying his face into their fur while he laughs at the younger. Anecdotes from the last few days are shared, questions about Vernon’s family are answered, until Wonwoo asks how the other performances went, and how Vernon himself is holding up.

“My body is super sore everywhere,“ Vernon replies as he sits up straighter. He sees with surprise that he’s been subconsciously picking at the paper flowers during their call, now holding a petal between his fingers. “Yeah, I am not super used to that. My arms feel dead all the time, but I don’t remember the last time my ass hurt this much.“ Wonwoo coughs loudly and drops his phone, which Earl Grey sniffs curiously, while Vernon laughs. “Not drunk enough for that,“ Wonwoo mumbles, and Vernon sees how he walks into the kitchen, effectively grabbing a can of beer out of his fridge. Before he can tease his friend about that, though, a flurry of text messages suddenly pop up at the top of his screen. It seems to be the same for Wonwoo, who’s eyes are fixated on his own screen, slight surprise showing in his eyes.

“Huh,“ he says. “It’s midnight.“ Then, his eyes shift, and he smiles at Vernon. “Happy new year.“

Vernon smiles as well. It’s different from Seokmin’s and Chan’s messages in all caps, with thousands of emojis and exclamation marks, and from Jeonghan hyung cutely calling him “Bononie“ in his text, and he likes that Wonwoo’s calm and fond voice is the first one he hears in the new year. If Vernon were to pray tonight, he’d definitely be expressing his gratitude for meeting his friend again.

“To you, too, hyung,“ he replies. “Happy new year.“

For a moment, none of them say anything, instead just staring at the other’s pixelated face on their phone screens. Then, in a flurry, Wonwoo disappears out of the frame and reappears with Napoleon in his arms and half shouts “Happy new year, Napoleon Bonaparte!“ Vernon laughs, joining the celebration as the kittens meow vexedly, and the sound of his own voice nearly drowns out the muted booms of fireworks. Wonwoo seems to hear them too, his face lighting up as it turns towards his window, and Vernon is about to say something about it, about the way he looks so happy, when his voice dies down at the start of a sentence that he doesn’t even know where it would have gone, and he stares down at a new notification.

“You good?“ Wonwoo asks, who notices Vernon’s stillness.

“Yeah,“ Vernon replies. “Yeah, just. Seungkwan’s calling.“

Wonwoo looks at him for a second longer, tilting his head the slightest, and then smiles softly. “Call me back if you want,“ he says, and then waves into the camera with an honest grin after Vernon has nodded. The call ends, and all that’s left on Vernon’s screen is the next call that awaits him. Nothing speaks against picking up, and when he’s sure that any ring more would be the last, he picks up.

“Hey, Seungkwan,“ he starts, and after a little pause, “Happy new year.“

He hears a little huff at the other end of the line. 

“Thank god, I was so close to hanging up. Happy new year, Vernon.“

Hearing his voice feels relieving. It’s nice talking to Seungkwan again. Vernon doesn’t ask why he called, because it feels natural, and he’s happy that Seungkwan apparently thinks so, too. He can hear some muted voices in the background, and so he asks Seungkwan how Jeju is, if he’s met all of his family and friends yet, when he’ll come back for school. Seungkwan in turn asks how Vernon fared for his performances.

“I’m glad I didn’t have any concerts to sing for this year, those killed my vocal cords thoroughly last winter. I was still forced by literally everyone here to bust out a Christmas song for them, though, so I guess the results are the same. I hope you aren’t feeling too exhausted,“ he says.

“It’s nothing out of the usual,“ Vernon replies with a chuckle. “I don’t have to move for at least a week now, so I’ll heal up well, I guess.“

Seungkwan laughs a little, before he sighs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to see you.“

His tone makes Vernon stand up from his desk chair and sit down on his bed instead, settling down carefully, aching legs folded together.

“Hey, Seungkwan, it’s fine. You’d planned your trip to see your family for a while, I wasn’t going to take offence in that.“

“I just… don’t want you to think that I didn’t want to be there because of… Yeah. I just felt bad.“

Vernon smiles. “Even if you’d felt uncomfortable coming to watch me, I would have understood. You really don’t have to apologise for it.“

After a bit of silence, he can hear Seungkwan take a deep breath in. “Thank you,“ he says. Vernon doesn’t ask what exactly Seungkwan is thanking him for, and he thinks that he understands it without an explanation. “Really, thanks, Vernon. I missed talking to you.“

The admission surprises Vernon a little, and he doesn’t reply anything for a second before speaking up again. “I missed that, too,“ he says, and honestly, it’s the truth. He’s glad Seungkwan called and that they can move towards being friends again, and it makes him happy to think that they’ll be able to talk more in the future.

On Seungkwan’s end of the line, there’s a loud boom, and he makes a startled noise. Through his own window, Vernon can see the fireworks that Seoul shoots into the air, and he smiles, thinking about all of his friends out there that are staring up into the sky at this exact moment. Seungkwan announces that he has to leave in order to berate a cousin for nearly blasting his ear off, and after hanging up, Vernon lets himself fall backwards onto his bed, suppressing a wince at the pain in his muscles. His room is only illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table, and from where he’s lying, he can see the sky lighting up in blue and green and golden flowers. His friends’ text are answered with selfies of himself throwing up a celebratory fist or pictures of the fireworks that he is to lazy to get up for, and it’s not hard to reply “I love you too“ to his drunk friends that got sentimental in their messages. Wonwoo has sent him more pictures of the cats, of Kimchi-Jjigae hiding in the plant pot and The Earl mid-jump. The last one is a selfie, a snap of Wonwoo lifting the blanket where he’s laying to reveal the three kittens huddled against his chest underneath it. It makes Vernon laugh fondly, and he decides that seeing how Wonwoo is already in bed, he won’t call him again. It’s nearly one in the morning now, anyway, and exhaustion is slowly enveloping his head, so he goes to brush his teeth and slips under the covers himself, settling in to the comfortable darkness of his room that is only disturbed by the quieting noises of people celebrating all over the city.

vernon

thx for the call, it was fun

talking with seungkwan was good

Jeon Wonwoo

I’m glad it went well

Happy new year Vernon

vernon

happy new year wonwoo

Jeon Wonwoo

:-)

*

The weather is dreadful as the new year starts, still piercingly cold and dry and snowy. Luckily, Vernon only has to get out of the warmth of his apartment on Tuesday and Friday that following week to go to work at Mr. Hong’s where Joshua, who doesn’t have to return to Incheon for another week, hangs around the shop to lovingly annoy his father and keep Vernon company with his questionable music choices and stories from their childhood.

“We were shits in middle school, I don’t know why I willingly went back there. There’s constantly coke cans or pens flying around, I’m going to lose my mind from these children,“ he says from where he’s draped across the counter.

“Speak for yourself,“ Vernon replies, sorting through orders on the computer at the register. “I never did anything at that age, people barely knew I existed.“

“Everybody knew who you were, Vernon,“ his friend laughs. “Even the people in high school talked about your yellow Jake hat when you wore it for a whole week.“

Vernon sombrely looks at the order of four microwaves that came in with a phone call this morning. “Dark times,“ he says. “Couldn’t even try and figure out my own fashion style in peace.“

“You were cute, back then,“ Joshua muses with an empty stare to the electrical pepper shaker in his hand. “I should have gone to teach kindergarten or elementary school after uni.“

“You really should have,“ Vernon hums in reply, now struggling with the computer program that won’t let him enter a digital camera as returned. He startles as a hand lands on his head and Joshua sings, as dramatically as it gets, “So run your hands through my hair, baby, ‘cause that’s why it’s there“. Vernon laughs, receiving a grin from his friend who has now taken it upon himself to serenade him.

“You’re lucky nobody here speaks English,“ he grins, and Joshua coos back: “Isn’t it enough that we do?“

Mr. Hong actually has to come out from the back of the shop where he was, up until this moment, trying to sell a fridge to a stressed out looking mother of two small, identically dressed girls, and ban Joshua to the break room for how much the two are laughing. Instead, Vernon has to listen to the entire Ariana Grande album playing through the shop on his own.

It’s nice, not having anything to do but stretch in the morning and levelling up his video games while Seokmin does homework and tries new recipes. One morning, Vernon decides on a whim that he’s going to take the bus to the campus he hasn’t properly set foot on for two years now, walking along the nearly untouched snowy paths between the buildings of the university where no one but him seems to venture during winter break. Except, unsurprisingly, Wonwoo, who appears like a drop of blood on white ice where he’s standing in front of the library, smoking and hopping on the spot.

“Your prof up making you run errands again?“ Vernon asks as he joins the older, who grins at him with surprise.

“Yeah, actually,“ Wonwoo laughs, loud and guttural even though he is obviously freezing, the sweater layered over a turtleneck that peeks out under his red leather jacket apparently not proving too effective. “I might actually be running late, he wants me to bring him books, but he’ll have to grant me a break before I lose my mind to his forgetfulness,“ he continues, taking a longer drag from his cigarette.

Because he has nowhere to be, Vernon stands there with Wonwoo, asking where he got the mismatched patches that are stitched or studded onto his jacket from, and laughs at a story about Soonyoung once accidentally pushing Wonwoo into a merch table at a concert as Wonwoo explains the history sewn onto his clothes with chattering teeth, and makes jokes about giving Wonwoo his dark patchwork pants after he compliments them. When he finishes his cigarette, Wonwoo pulls out his phone and hisses in a breath as he sees the time.

“I’ve gotta run, Vernon, but if you want, you can come over to my place later to hang out.“

Vernon nods, and grabs a gloved hand before Wonwoo can disappear back into the library.

“If you’re this cold, you’ve gotta wear your beanie properly,“ he says, carefully pulling down the stretchy fabric over Wonwoo’s ears that are folded under the rim of the hat. “Your ears are super red.“ He lets his palms rest over he beanie for a second, feeling the piercings under it, and watches as some red spreads into Wonwoo’s cheeks.

“Right,“ Wonwoo says, eyes wide on Vernon’s face, who notices suddenly that his lips are parched. He drops his hands to rub at them, and smiles.

“I’ll see you later,“ he says, and Wonwoo waves, not moving from his spot, before he exclaims “Right!“ and turns to run up the library’s stairs.

“Get home safe,“ he calls from the door, disappearing inside shortly after.

Vernon turns back around, overlooking the campus in front of him. It’s not snowing, but the air feels crisp and clean, and there’s enough sun peeking through the clouds to make the snow glitter prettily. Vernon feels rather peaceful here, and it reminds him of a time when college didn’t threaten to beat him down. He remembers that Wonwoo was there back then, too.

*

When Vernon rings Wonwoo’s doorbell that afternoon, it’s not his friend who opens the door, but instead a tall man with light brown hair and a really ugly green knit sweater who is holding Kimchi-Jjigae like a rich woman would hold her tiny dog. He’s not even looking at who is standing in front of the apartment, instead half turned back to face the living room where he seems to be involved in a conversation. Vernon doesn’t even get to say anything before somebody shouts at the guy.

“I am not going to have sex with you, Junhui! You’re already freaky out of the bedroom.“ Vernon’s eyes widen a little as he recognises the voice, and is barely able to suppress a laugh as the man in front of him replies.

“You used to sleep with Minghao, so I really don’t see any problem here!“

“Yeah, Wonwoo,“ a third voice joins in. “You used to sleep with me, what happened to that?“ There’s ear-shattering laughter and defensive noises to be heard, and the man at the door shouts a final “Then tell me who your other options are and I’ll consider not annoying you until you give in and rail me“ before finally turning to face the visitor with a relaxed smile.

“Look who the cat dragged in. Vernon, I assume?“

Vernon can’t say that the back of his neck doesn’t feel slightly hot when he shakes the hand he’s offered and replies “The one and only“ with a grin. As he steps into the apartment and toes off his shoes, he notices the silence, as well as the three pairs of eyes on him.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,“ he says, feeling a faint heat creeping into his cheeks, and Soonyoung erupts into howling laughter. Wonwoo next to him is beet red and seems to be desperately trying to disappear from the face of the earth, face buried in his hands. The tips of his ears are aflame.

“Minghao,“ says the other guy in the room with a hand quickly lifted in greeting, a face that Vernon already knows from pictures Wonwoo has shown him. He has a thin, graceful build, and sits on the floor cradling Napoleon in his arms, a long black skirt fanning around him.

“Nice to meet you,“ Vernon replies with a smile. “Heard a lot about you.“

“Likewise. I like your shoes.“

Vernon looks down behind him to where he disposed his obnoxiously yellow and pink sneakers, grinning. “Thanks. I seem to be wearing all the right things today, Wonwoo-hyung said he likes my pants earlier.“

“I can see why,“ says the other guy who had been closing the door behind Vernon, which finally prompts Wonwoo to look up and bellow a furious “JUN.“ at him. Soonyoung has already fallen off the couch from laughing so hard, half landing on a giggling Minghao.

Wonwoo jumps up, ignoring Jun who saunters into the living room with a big grin, and walks past Vernon.

“Do you want a drink? I’m getting you a drink.“

Vernon chuckles, throwing a last look towards the other three men who are laughing about something he doesn’t really get, and follows Wonwoo into the kitchen, sensing his discomfort.

“Sorry if that made you uncomfortable,“ Wonwoo says, filling a glass with water, not looking at Vernon. “Whatever you heard, please forget that. Jun has no filter.“ From the living room, Vernon can hear the Jeff Bezos song playing.

“I thought he was fun. All your friends are cool.“

Wonwoo finally turns to look at him. As he lets his eyes wander over Vernon, his face grows into a smile. “Hi, by the way. If I’d known the guys would be here, I would have warned you.“

His bashful smile makes Vernon laugh lowly, and he takes the glass Wonwoo holds out to him. “Honestly, I’m not sure that would have prepared me for this.“ Wonwoo snorts at that and replies an amused “fair enough“ as he bends down to pet Earl Grey who has the decency to come and greet Vernon.

“I guess introductions went well enough.“

Hanging out with Wonwoo’s friends is easy enough. Minghao is incredibly nice and easy to talk to, being closer to Vernon’s age than anyone else in the room and one of the less loud ones, and Jun cracks one bad joke after the other, pulling Vernon into relaxed banter about hobbies, pets, and retro games. Soonyoung, whose hair is now brushed back in a dark blue undercut, finds everything incredibly funny and makes his friends laugh in turn, and Wonwoo, who has leaned back onto the sofa next to Vernon, unwinds as well, talking back at his friends and teasing them. At some point, a story Jun and Soonyoung tell together, something about how they were once kicked out of a museum for very animatedly recreating the paintings, has them laughing so hard that Vernon and Wonwoo have to lean against each other, and Wonwoo’s face scrunches together in loud amusement as Vernon slips and practically falls onto his friend’s legs. 

“You cut your hair,“ he notices then, and Wonwoo looks down at him in surprise.

“Oh yeah,“ he says, touching a finger to the choppy bangs falling onto his forehead. “It looked better to style like that on Christmas, I guess.“

Before Vernon can reply anything, Soonyoung pulls him upright again with a grin. “My hair looks great, too, in case you haven’t noticed. You give amazing advice, Vernonie.“

While Jun coos “aaaw, ‘Vernonie’“, he looks at the people he is sitting with. Similarly to Wonwoo, both Minghao and Soonyoung have several piercings, Minghao opting for dangling chains and studs with distinct designs that shimmer through his black mullet, while the older wears some spikes in his ears, along with his snakebites. Both of them are also set out in near fully black outfits and are wearing at least some makeup, Soonyoung’s much less extravagant and limited to black eyeshadow, like Vernon remembers Jihoon does. In their middle, Jun stands out even more than Vernon in his dark grey sweater does, but still sings along to the Japanese punk song that plays in the background.

“Are you the only one that doesn’t have any piercings?“ Vernon finally asks Jun, who interrupts his attempt to steal Napoleon from Minghao.

“God no!“ he exclaims, promptly pulling up his sweater, interrupted by Minghao who shouts “Nope!“ and energetically pushes his friend over.

“Jun works at a suuper tacky law firm,“ Soonyoung explains with shiny eyes, “so he has to looks ‘presentable’. Turned him into a whole grandpa visually, tho.“

“I’m the only one here who has an actual job,“ Jun exclaims from where Minghao is sprawled over him. “Trust fund baby,“ Wonwoo calls back at him, and Jun raises a middle finger, laughing under his friend.

“I met him in Japan, when I took that gap year. He was studying there before he moved to Korea at some point, too,“ Wonwoo explains to Vernon. “One day he called me and just asked me if I could pick him up from the airport, and I had to deal with the fact that his legs didn’t fit into my car because Soonyoung and Jihoon were sitting in the back.“

“Best friends ever since!“ Soonyoung exclaims. Minghao and Jun are still bickering in Chinese on the floor, and Wonwoo huffs loudly.

“I’m actually going to kick you guys out,“ he says. “I don’t need anyone to make out on my floor tonight.“ Minghao whips around to give him the stink eye and promptly dives in to kiss Jun who is cackling loudly.

“I guess that would solve the problem you guys were having when I came in,“ Vernon deadpans.

“Oh GOD,“ Wonwoo exclaims, and jumps up to run towards his front door. “Out, everyone. If you’re nice, I’ll even drive you.“

*

In the end, Minghao takes his own bike home, while Soonyoung gets a ride from Jun to Jihoon’s place, where he has now officially moved in. It’s already dark outside, the low hanging clouds threatening to release snow like a pillow ripping open, and the cats are all crawling around on Vernon. He has a text from Seokmin to tell him that he’ll have to make dinner on his own since he’s still working on a project at Nayeon’s, and Vernon feels, frankly, too comfortable to even ask Wonwoo to drive him home in his unheated car, rather at ease buried into the weathered armchair next to the rattling rardiator.

Wonwoo trudges out of the kitchen with two steaming cups in his hands that he deposes onto his speakers, where Vernon watches him work some buttons there for a bit, petting Kimchi-Jjigae who is resting on his chest, before he recognises Sufjan Steven's Futile Devices softly streaming out of the stereo.

He gets handed a hot chocolate, soft between Wonwoo’s painted fingers and silver rings, and Vernon looks up into his friend’s open, patient face.

“Can I stay the night?“

Chapter Text

“Can I stay the night?“

Wonwoo is definitely spending too much time laying in bed and thinking about Vernon. And it’s gotten more awkward now that Vernon is in bed, too. Breathing softly. Rustling his sheets as he settles on the futon Wonwoo rolled out for him. Giggling as one of the kittens pads on his chest - GOD! Wonwoo turns his face into his pillow to suppress the incoming agonised groan. How… is he supposed to take this.

It had already taken a toll on him to see Vernon all settled into his armchair and asking him to let him stay the night. He’d looked mellow, warm, infinitely at peace. Wonwoo had felt in that moment that no matter what Vernon had asked of him, he would have complied. It’s funny to feel yourself become weak after thinking of yourself as emotionally unavailable, but it’s also sort of freeing to lay down your arms for a boy who only requires a smile from you to be pleased. And Vernon really doesn’t seem to need more from Wonwoo, so he had agreed to let him stay, ordered food, and handed him clothes for him to sleep in.

Before Wonwoo’s thoughts can go on a tangent about Vernon wearing his sweatpants and sleep shirt again, one of the kittens jumps into his bed and lays on top of his neck.

“Sorry, baby, not into choking by cats,“ he mumbles as he picks Napoleon Bonaparte up and settles her down next to his face, where she starts to purr contentedly. Since Napoleon is the only furrball weighing him down, Wonwoo presumes that the other two are cuddling up to Vernon on the floor. He smiles silently as he thinks of how Vernon had been holding at least one cat in his arms for the whole evening, only setting them down for dinner. It is, honestly, cute as hell to see his friend this engrossed with the kittens, and seeing his face light up at their antics feels like enough of a reason for Wonwoo to invite Vernon. Not that he isn’t a great conversationalist in general, seeing how they’ve talked about video games and classical music and the difficulties of immigration for non-beneficiary residents without Korean passports the whole evening and finally about the superior ice cream flavours while they’d already laid down in bed, but Vernon giggling about Earl Grey biting into his finger was just that much of a sight to see.

From the end of his bed, Wonwoo can hear Vernon’s soft breathing, lulling him to sleep himself. There was a time when Wonwoo had felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room as other people, but as time went on, he’d started finding comfort in Jihoon’s back against his own and Soonyoung’s soft breaths against his throat, and he is thankful for the intimacy Vernon is granting him by wanting to stay with him. It’s a warm thought, that one, the idea that Vernon is happy with him, and it’s a gentle dream that begins before Wonwoo is even fully asleep.

*

The next morning begins with a great deal of cat hair in his mouth. And also a cat in his sweatshirt.

“Oh my god, get out,“ Wonwoo groans before throwing off the covers and gently coaxing Kimchi-Jjigae out of his clothes. “Please use your inside paws… ouch… okay here we go.“

His stomach feels itchy and also very sweaty when he sits up, and the discomfort only grows when one of Kimchi-Jjigae’s claws gets hooked on a loose thread on his longsleeve. For once in his perpetually chilly life, Wonwoo feels too hot.

Groggy as he usually is in the mornings, he manages to free his wriggling cat and gives him a tired kiss on the head before putting him back on the mattress and taking his sweater off. His eyes feel swollen, and the room is unusually warm for a winter morning, even if his alarm clock says that it’s already nine o’clock. The shirt lands somewhere by his closet with a blind throw and Wonwoo stretches his arms over his head, commenting a weak “oh god“ at the pop of his joints. The room still looks blurry in the slowly fading darkness, so Wonwoo starts tapping around on his bedside table for his glasses.

“Oh wow.“

“FUCK!“

Wonwoo stumbles out of his bed, barely missing the floor with his face and standing upright in a flash, jamming his glasses onto his face. From the futon on the floor, Vernon is staring up at him, casually stretched out in a split, bent over one leg and his phone slowly slipping out of his hand. After a beat of silence, he breaks out into a grin, and Wonwoo is finally able to let out that breath he nearly choked on and laugh tensely.

“Shit, man, good morning I guess,“ he says, slumping back onto his bed with the remainder of a giggle in his voice. Vernon laughs loudly before he somehow bends up his leg while settling down his phone. Wonwoo twists his hands into his pyjama bottom at the display of flexibility. That can’t not hurt. It’s also objectively very interesting to watch.

“I didn’t know you were tatted,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo startles, both at the raspiness of his voice and also at the fact that he is bare chested in front of his crush. Damn. He forgot.

He still manages to snort at Vernon’s choice of words. “Yeah, I’m tatted,“ he teases, getting up again to dig out clothes for himself. There was a reason he took off his shirt, and he really wants to shower, even more now that he actually needs to look presentable. A rustling from the futon makes him look up from his underwear drawer and he turns his head to see Vernon standing up slowly from a crouching position, straightening his knees first and rolling up his torso until his shoulders push back and his neck bends back, exposing his throat. Wonwoo’s mouth goes dry.

With a long exhale, Vernon rolls his head back and opens his eyes, boring them into Wonwoo’s who just blinks at him. His hair sticks up a little at the side of his head, revealing his forehead and his perfectly straight, strong eyebrows. Wonwoo isn’t sure which part of Vernon’s face he should look at to minimise the risk of losing his mind. He might be losing his mind anyway.

“They look really cool,“ Vernon says with a curious smile, and Wonwoo startles again. Like the dumb person he is, he looks down his left side as if he were noticing the tattoos for the first time.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice them before,“ he mumbles, overly aware that Vernon is coming closer. “But uh, yeah, I got my first one as soon as I turned eighteen. I’ve had these for a while.“

“High school, huh,“ Vernon says and stares at his biceps. “Was it the moon with the rocket in its eye that says ‘to infinity and ass’?“ Wonwoo barks out a laugh.

“Yes, I defiled two classic movies with that one. My dad was furious when he found out, he loves Toy Story.“

It’s Vernon’s turn to laugh out loud, and Wonwoo joins in easily, at least until Napoleon jumps up his leg and gets tangled in his pants.

“Hold up!“ he exclaims, holding on to his waistband so he doesn’t get any more naked, while Vernon pries the cat off the fabric, still shaken by laughter. When he’s finally secured her in his own arms, he rocks her like a baby, which she seems to appreciate greatly seeing how she sits up and looks around the room with an air of superiority. Wonwoo sits back down on his bed, grabbing for his phone.

“Do you have anything planned for today?“

Vernon is lightly blowing into Napoleon’s fur, observing how her ears twitch and scrunching his nose as she looks up to him. “Not really,“ he replies. “I’m technically free until Monday, unless Seokmin wants to hang out.“ He shoots Wonwoo a quick look before turning his attention back to his cat. “Why?“

Wonwoo stares up at his friend in the sweater he wore to sleep, strands of hair falling into his face even after he’d pushed them back. The light orange of Napoleon’s fur makes a nice contrast to the grey knit, and Wonwoo exits the search page on his phone to open his camera and snap a picture of the scene before him. He’s starting to get chilly now, and he realises that he still has not changed, but he’s comfortable, and he wants to keep that feeling for a little while longer.

“Wanna go to the museum with me?“

*

One of the cats has decided to use Vernon’s hoodie as a bib for the night, because it’s full of wet patches and cat hair. Vernon shoots Kimchi-Jjigae a narrow-eyed look.

“There’s a lot of dirt on this, and it looks suspiciously like potted-plant-dirt,“ he accuses the small kitten. On the other side of the hallway, he can hear the water from Wonwoo’s shower stop, so he ushers Kimchi-Jjigae into the kitchen so he’ll eat his breakfast instead of digging around in the decorations once more, and takes a look at the rest of his clothes. His shirt smells… okay. He should really plan his sleepovers beforehand. His patchwork pants seem fine, though.

Before Vernon can step out of Wonwoo’s joggers, he hears his host come into the room with the hair dryer.

“That’s not puke, is it?“

Vernon laughs. “Nah, but I still don’t think it’s museum appropriate,“ he explains. Wonwoo looks at him through the sticker-clad mirror attached to his closet door while he quickly dries his choppy bangs, so Vernon raises his voice a little. “Do you have another sweater you could lend me?“

Wonwoo turns off the dryer and opens up his closet with a sinister creak to grab a dark flannel with what seems to be tiny, green fishes printed on it, and throws it over his thick turtleneck, messily tucking the front flaps into his pants without buttoning any part of the flannel. He then scratches his head as he looks into the piles of clothes and turns back to Vernon.

“I don’t really have anything that would fit your aesthetic,“ he says with a tentative expression, which makes Vernon grin.

“I don’t really think I have a fixed style of clothing, I mostly just wear what’s comfortable“ he replies, watching how Wonwoo turns back to the closet with a contemplative look. To lighten up, he adds: “I like your style anyway, so I’d be honestly honoured to wear anything you give me.“

Wonwoo barks out a laugh and steps back from his closet with an exaggerated flourish. “Go wild,“ he grins at his friend. “Take out anything you want, my pants should fit you too.“ He turns back to his dresser to grab his jewellery and heads back to the bathroom after slipping on a few rings and pinning buttons onto his flannel. “I wouldn’t recommend the suits tho. They’re a bit too personal.“

Vernon grins as he eyes a pair of dress pants with political slogans spray painted over them, hung directly next to a clear bag in which he recognises the outfit Wonwoo had worn to his recital, the dry cleaner’s note still stuck to it.

“Too bad, I was really tempted.“

Wonwoo has a great time with Vernon’s choice of clothing when he comes back after applying his make-up. The dancer has somehow managed to use Wonwoo’s clothes to build an emo-eboy outfit and paired black, ripped up jeans with an oversized dress shirt under an equally oversized band-tee, topped off with a woolen jacket with paint splatters all over it that he found at the very bottom of the closet. Wonwoo explains that Soonyoung once dropped it into Minghao’s work, and Vernon snickers about the story as he pins every single LGBTQ button he can find in Wonwoo’s collection onto the jacket’s lapel.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed by the outfit,“ Wonwoo says as he sips his tea in front of the mirror, observing Vernon who proudly grins at himself.

“I look like a douche,“ he finally says, and Wonwoo gasps.

“Alright, I take full offence in that. You either strip on the spot or say that you look good in my clothes. I’m not taking you out with that attitude.“

Vernon laughs again, smiling to himself at the prospect of going out with Wonwoo like this. They usually just hang out at each other’s places or around campus, and Vernon is curious to see how Wonwoo moves in other settings, if he still oozes coolness and confidence among the status-quo-abiding citizens of Seoul. Right now, a picture of relaxation with his artfully smudged eyeliner and slightly spiky hair, he looks surreal, untouchable, above every fear on earth. He looks great. Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure is playing in the living room where they had breakfast.

Vernon turns back to the mirror and fastens his belt again. “Do you ever wear coloured contacts?“

“I’m blind as a bat, Vernon. I can’t stack fancy red eyes over my prescription lenses,“ Wonwoo laughs. “Soonyoung does sometimes, though. Not bright red, but like, subtle weird colours. He creeped out Jun really good with that once, it was hilarious.“

With a grin, Vernon pulls out his phone and takes a picture of himself and Wonwoo in the mirror.

“Kay,“ he finally says. “I’m ready for everyone to stare at us while we profoundly discuss art.“

“As they should,“ Wonwoo says with an expression that Vernon can’t quite decipher. “We look hot.“

*

The people don’t necessarily look. It’s more like they subconsciously give them a wide berth as the two walk from the parking garage to the gallery Wonwoo wants to visit. There’s a difference on how he holds himself, though, Vernon notes, as if his back were straighter, with his hands stuffed into his pant pockets. Once again, he’s taller than Vernon, thanks to his high laced, matted combat boots. Vernon stands up straighter too, despite the fact that he’s wearing his regular, flashy sneakers, but he likes to think that he has the same untouchable vibe to him that Wonwoo currently exudes. 

To other people though. Not to Vernon who is listening to him ramble about his masters thesis with a mix of excitement and exasperation.

“You’re really into that East-Asian Bronze Age farming culture, huh,“ he jokes, making Wonwoo laugh loudly. They’re by that old-timey, European style clock in front of the Seoul Arts Centre and Wonwoo’s canines shine in the metallic gleam of the cold morning sun, warming up Vernon’s inside in a flash. His friend pulls out his phone again to look up directions and leads them past the round building with a pleased smile.

“It’s niche enough for me to be considered the leading expert on the topic these days,“ he replies, “so I think I’m allowed to be a little passionate about it. I haven’t lost every ounce of social awareness yet, tho, so I do know that this is theoretically pretty lame. Hey, have you ever performed here, by the way?“

Vernon stops to look up at the Arts Centre, squinting his eyes a little as the sun peeks through frost-heavy clouds.

“We did the New Year’s performance there,“ he says, thinking back to the gigantic stage and the countless of prominent guests that he and the other dancers had spotted among the audience. “We’re going to perform there for the Lunar New Year, too. The backstage is super luxurious.“

Next to him in a similar position, Wonwoo whistles. “That’s crazy. My mom always wanted to listen to a concert here when I was younger, I’ve got to ask her if she still wants to.“ Then he looks back down at Vernon. “Do a spin.“

Vernon blanks for a second, before making a double chassé backwards and turning with a fouetté.

“Holy shit!“ Wonwoo exclaims. “I was super sure my pants would be too tight for that.“

“They kinda are,“ Vernon replies with a grimace, pulling at the fabric between his legs. Wonwoo turns away, desperately trying not to laugh. His face contorts until Vernon pushes him with a huff and he breaks out into loud laughter. Now people are looking, and Vernon can just think that it’s completely justified. Wonwoo’s laughter is loud and boisterous when he’s relaxed like this, and it’s contagious, so Vernon nudges him towards the stairs where they’re not in the shadow anymore and takes Wonwoo’s phone out of his surprisingly soft hands to check the directions again.

“Come on, I want to look at oversized Legos,“ he grins, ignoring how Wonwoo wipes tears out of the corners of his eyes as he lets himself get dragged along.

Seoul is, without putting much effort into it, filled with art. Maybe it’s the wealth of the capital, the high-profile business people that want to uphold a classy and sophisticated image, fact is that there are countless of privately owned galleries spread through the business districts of Seoul, as well as a vast array of hole-in-the-wall showrooms with exhibitions from local as well as international artists. Vernon has never been an exceptional lover of the fine arts, limiting his knowledge to Van Gogh, Basquiat, and whatever collages Mingyu would craft and gift him on a whim, but he is well aware that walking through Jongno-gu means that he’s practically walking past an intellectual treasure every few meters. He can quite well imagine Wonwoo and Minghao spending a day like this, though, jumping from one exhibit to the next in Samcheong-dong, skipping the high-end ones and finding the most obscure pieces instead. He can imagine himself having fun like this, too, since being with Wonwoo is never filled with any pressure to be overly enthusiastic about their activities, as long as he’s genuine about enjoying himself, which he always does when he’s with his older friend. Looking at paintings he’s not meant to understand would not in any way hinder that. 

The artist Wonwoo has in mind today, however, seems to be more reputable, since he’s taking Vernon to one of the institutionalised museums all the way in Gangnam, crossing driven streets in Seocho-dong until they reach the vast, tiled square that leads them to the building they were looking for.

“Mingyu was chatting mine and Minghao’s ears off about this,“ Wonwoo explains as they enter and look around the lobby. The place is modern and clinically white, not very impressive from the outside as far as Vernon can judge, but he can only appreciate so much minimalism until he gets sick of it. Where is the front desk, for example.

“Why did he not take you, then?“ Vernon enquires, following Wonwoo who seems to know where he’s going. They must look hilarious in the middle of this colourless room, black holes that absorb any light.

Wonwoo stops in front of an interactive panel where he searches through the names of artists until he finds the exhibit he’s looking for. Okay, this is actually pretty cool. The set up is uncomfortable, but Vernon is not above being fascinated by futuristic tech. Although, if it exists in the present, can it even be considered futuristic?

“I had a week packed with lectures and work, so I rain checked. In the end he just went with Hao, but it sounded pretty cool so…“ Vernon taps on the screen tentatively, then again as a new page pops up with new commands. “Hey hold on, what the fuck are you doing,“ Wonwoo says and attempts to swat Vernon’s hand away, to which he only retaliates by taping more stuff on the panel, not even attentive to what he’s clicking. When Wonwoo starts scrambling to push his hands out of the way and ends up opening even more pages on the screen, Vernon breaks out into elated giggles as they completely mess up that ticket vending machine, or whatever it is.

“S..top,“ Wonwoo manages to press out in between suppressed fits of laughter, his face scrunching up as he bats at Vernon and the screen, mirroring Vernon who giggles “YOU stop.“ All of a sudden, a red pop up appears, making them both still.

“Did you even buy the tickets yet?“ Vernon whispers, humbled by the “404 Error“ sign.

“Wh- No I didn’t, you didn’t let me,“ Wonwoo whispers back, and they both erupt into forcedly quiet giggles. By the time an employee of the museum shows up to check on the damaged panel, the two of them are already standing by a different one with overly serious, apathetic faces until the machine transfers a QR code to their phones and they scamper off to the exhibit.

“So, Lee Jeeyoung?“ Vernon says as they near the appointed hall. Through wide glass doors, he can see a lot of colour awaiting them.

“Hmm. She made these crazy sets for her surrealist portrait photography, and they reconstructed them here.“ Wonwoo looks excited, a quiet buzz seeming to surround him as he matches his step with Vernon’s. His eyes are wide as they enter the showroom, and Vernon gives his reaction as much of a good look as he gives the artwork. And he gives the artwork a very good look.

Vernon does get to see oversized Lego blocks, the enlarged photograph displayed next to the set very fittingly entitled “Gamer“, but there’s also giant ants, seas of painted paper fans and trippy, warped rooms with illusionist effects. The colours are incredible, and he admits that the museum did a good job on the lighting by not drowning everything with neon spotlights. The photographs themselves are simple, raw, and unbothered by artistic staging. Wonwoo explains that, despite liking shadow play and tilted perspective more in general, any other shot than straight from the front would have disrupted the effect of the sets themselves, and Vernon nods with a smile as he listens to the older, appreciating all the extra intel. When he stops in front of a layered honeycomb structure, Vernon moves on, looking around to overlook the mix of colours and catching a few eyes trained on them. There are not a great lot of people here, but with the two punk(ish) individuals amidst the artwork, he understands that they make a similarly interesting subject to look at. He turns around to see Wonwoo crouching at an odd angle in front of the set with his disposable film camera and grins to himself. At least Wonwoo would be interesting to look at.

“Hyung,“ he calls him over, smiling as Wonwoo whips his head around confusedly and gets up immediately after spotting Vernon. “This one’s called My Chemical Romance,“ he continues, pointing at the box he’s standing in front of as Wonwoo hurries towards him.

Wonwoo snorts. “That’s incredible. I haven’t listened to them in ages.“

“I just know that you listened to ‘Teenagers’ on repeat when you were in middle school. You had that stupid long hair that you kept whipping back to glare at people, all emo and angsty tween.“

“Shut up, I was cooler than that.“

With a hit against Vernon’s shoulder, Wonwoo gives him the camera.

“I still need you to take a picture of me in front of this one though.“

Vernon ends up laughing so much that he switches to his phone camera after wasting film on blurry snapshots, and berates Wonwoo for not acting ‘emo enough’. When he imitates the younger version of his friend, dropping his voice to an off-pitch drawl and saying imaginative things like “The last time I felt any other emotion than contempt was when I saw a flock of ravens that yelled ‘Fuck the system’ at me“, Wonwoo takes out his own phone and takes pictures of whatever stupid poses Vernon is doing, commenting “I’m Vernon Chwe from New York and my best friend is my Game Boy“ with a bad American accent. They decide to end their museum visit not much later, unable to hold in their laughter and pushing each other around, much to the relief of the other people present.

“Come on, shout ‘The patriarchy is the source of all illness’ or something,“ Vernon says in a failing hush, and Wonwoo laughs “I don’t want to get my ass got!“ while dragging Vernon out by the shoulders. A little while later, they end up at the Han river with steaming fishcakes and Hotteok from street vendors.

“This was fun,“ Vernon says, sniffing as the cold wind from the river hits him in the face. He’s glad that he brought his scarf, even though it might have ruined the outfit even more than his shoes already did.

Wonwoo next to him has one hand buried deep into the pocket of his coat, hissing as he inhales through his teeth after every bite of food he takes.

“Did you doubt me? Did you think I’d take you out on the most boring date ever?“ His cheeks are red, giving his sharp face a roundness that Vernon hasn’t seen since his friend was twelve years old. It might have been similarly soft when he’d just woken up that morning, though. Wonwoo now shoots Vernon a glance from the corner of his eye, then barks out a laugh as he finds him watching him already.

“I’m happy you liked it. I did, too.“

Vernon finally turns to look at the skyline on the other side of the river bank. Everything seems so small from a distance, and he suddenly feels a vague sensation of displacement, remembering how it felt when he first came to Seoul on his own, and how distant his hometown had seemed then. He’s grown up now, sure, but there’s still so many things that are bigger than him, and that once scared him to think about. But now, just like back then, the click of Wonwoo’s lighter promises security, a hand to hold when he loses footing. There had been a time when he’d adopted the habit, clicked his own lighter to emulate the feeling, but just like with movie remakes, the original remains unbeatable. When he looks at Wonwoo again, he doesn’t startle to see that the older has already turned to face him, smoke lingering around his serious, open face.

They’re close. Closer than ever, Vernon is distinctly aware of that, and he is thankful.

“I missed this,“ he says, and at the widening of Wonwoo’s eyes, at the blooming blush across his ears, he adds, to himself, I missed you.

*

“This song sounds funky!“

“Yeah, I might only check on my Spotify weekly mix every once in a blue moon, but they always give me cool shit.“

“Oh I thought this was something you got from Wonwoo hyu- why are you doing pirouettes in the living room?“

“I don’t know. They were singing about shoelaces, I felt like it.“

Seokmin looks at him a moment longer before heading back into the kitchen with his empty coffee mug and a grin wide on his face.

“You make zero sense, you know,“ he says, which makes Vernon shrug noncommittally.

“That’s fine by me.“

While his roommate laughs at the comment, Vernon bends back to feel his back muscles stretch from the back of his thighs to his shoulders. He briefly wonders if he could lower himself into a handstand like this, but is shaken out of his contemplation rather quickly when he loses balance and nearly topples over.

“Look,“ Seokmin says as he comes back with fresh coffee and half a crumbling cookie, “I know you have your diet, but how about a last splurge before you go back to training tomorrow? Send you out with a bang and all that.“

Vernon grins from where he sits himself down on the sofa. “I’m not leaving forever, you know? I’m not leaving the city and going to work on an oil platform or anything.“

He can’t continue making fun of Seokmin as the older throws himself onto Vernon (without his coffee, luckily).

“But I’ll miss youuuu,“ he wails, wrapping his arms around Vernon in a bone-crushing hug. “Who will be there to make me a mediocre cup of ramyeon when I come back from rehearsal?“

“I can’t tell if it’s your bony chest or your words that are hurting more right now,“ Vernon answers, muffled against Seokmin’s chest.

“I’ll have you know that a lot of people like my chest,“ Seokmin sniffles as he reluctantly eases his grip on Vernon. The dancer has a good idea just how many people compliment Seokmin’s chest, but he’s not going to comment on that. He’s pretty sure that his friend still doesn’t quite understand the extent of girls and boys alike that would love a close look at him, but Seokmin seems to think that his charms have declined since he’s not a freshman anymore. Like he’s not exactly the type of guy to only get hotter the older he gets, but Vernon has long stopped repeating that if Seokmin was able to pull that many people as a meek nineteen-year-old, he’ll have no problem now. He’s been rooting for that girl from the opera workshop in the most obvious ways now instead, as well as for Seokmin’s co-lead on the musical. Hell, even for Mingyu. Everything to get Seokmin laid and out of his shell.

“We could get, um, Indian?“ Vernon muses, no longer writhing as Seokmin pats his hair. “The one with the great naan and that dip we tried to recreate-“

“I tried to recreate. You just ate all of it even though it tastes completely different.“

“Yeah well, they also had a great non-spicy butter chicken, so either we get food there or I’ll order from the Italian place that prepares everything with extra pepperoni-“

“Indian!“ Seokmin shouts. “You have the greatest ideas, Bononie,“ he adds, placing a big kiss and three more for good measure on Vernon’s forehead before contorting on his chest in an attempt to reach for his phone. It’s a tangle of limbs and Vernon laughs heartily as well as dolorously as Seokmin still refuses to break up their hug even though they are dangerously close to falling off the sofa. Distantly, Vernon thinks he should introduce Jeonghan and Seokmin properly some day. The way his hyungs smother him with affection is very similar, and as they wait for their food, Vernon gets giddy thinking about doing ballet again after this break.

“What are you grinning about?“ Seokmin asks, and Vernon shakes his head, unable to press his mouth into a neutral shape.

“Nothing,“ he replies. “Just happy.“

Jeonghan is also very happy about seeing him again. So is Chan. And everybody else in the studio, for that matter. It’s not like they didn’t just see each other less than two weeks ago when they did their last show together.

“It’s different when you’re not weighed down by the impending strain of the responsibility our work as entertainers carries,“ Chan explains, which makes Jeonghan wheeze.

“Still our little philosopher,“ he adds to his brutal pat onto Chan’s freshly cropped hair, and finally turns to Vernon with a shake of his head. “You don’t look like you’ve just been laying in bed all the time like you texted me. I gained so much weight from Seungcheol’s mom’s cooking, and you look slim as ever.“

“Not my fault you’d rather look at him work out than make use of the gym you literally watch him work out at.“ Chan cackles as he stretches his feet, reaching over to Vernon to give him a high five. Jeonghan just huffs indignantly, mumbling about how he should have never sent that picture into the group chat and also about the benefits of taking a break from gym workouts. (There are no benefits.)

It feels great being back in the studio. Madame Seo is in a kind mood and everything feels fresh, anew, energised in a way that inspires Vernon to throw his hands into the air and dance without care. Jinho is back at the piano, plucking cheery étude on the keys while Jeonghan works everyone through the warmups, and after that, Madame Seo lets everybody create a little choreography on any piece they choose. It’s fun, it’s relaxed, and a lot of the girls ask Vernon about the song he used, a short instrumental with a Ghibli reminiscent vibe by an artist he found while scrolling through instagram.

By the time Vernon exits the dance school, two hours later than he’d usually stay, he’s exhausted - but it’s the good kind, not the way he felt in December. In between exchanging compliments with his colleagues and catching up on their holiday stories, he’s happy to move again, unbounded by pressure, and instead encouraged by Chan’s elated laughs when he slips up in a step and saves it with an exaggerated twirl, and by Bora’s and Mina’s attempts to imitate his entrance as the Mouse King with each other. He waves at his friends when he heads to the bus, tightly wrapped into his padded coat to shield his sweaty body against January’s frosty bite, and leans back on his way home, where no doubt Seokmin will already wait for him with dishes of hot jabchae and nearly over-salted seaweed soup. The dancers will start learning a new choreography soon, but it’s for a more relaxed event, less pressure, more joy, and Vernon revels in the work he has done and will get to do. This time around, he won’t chance any disconnect, and his gut tells him that now that he has so many new friends, pulled into his life by Wonwoo’s quiet enthusiasm, he wouldn’t even be able to.

In the warm bus that’s taking him home, with a Dua Saleh song whispering through his clunky headphones, he lazily scrolls through chats with his friends, sending a picture of Rodrick from the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie simply captioned “you“ to Wonwoo and laughing when he receives a curt “fuck you“ as a reply, and he imagines his life staying this way forever, no growing up, no changes, no falls. Right now, he thinks that a life like this wouldn’t be a drag.

*

Surprisingly enough, Vernon is in contact with Wonwoo’s friends without Wonwoo even initiating anything. Jihoon would already text him from time to time to time, either complaining about their friends’ annoying fixation on only listening to obscure GDR punk to annoy him or to ask Vernon for a song with a specific “freedom of the body and soul but with a fucky undertone and lots of vocal layering for the instrumentals“ vibe and spam him with a lot of KakaoTalk stickers back when Vernon sends him Pink Walk by Gaho. However, Vernon has also started to receive selfies from Soonyoung out of the blue, of him hanging out with Wonwoo or just of himself trying stupid hairstyles. It’s fun to be involved all of a sudden, and he realises that he enjoys the way his life is entwined with these people when Seokmin once grumbles about Mingyu talking about a certain “Minghao“ all the time. One day when Mingyu is over for pizza-night where they watch Kiki’s Delivery Service for the hundredth time, he mentions that Wonwoo had an argument with one of the older humanistic professors that got so much traction that the faculty is considering sending the professor into retirement early, and Vernon is able to fill in the details for a bewildered Seokmin, much to Mingyu’s amusement.

“I didn’t know you were that close to hyung again,“ he says when Seokmin is in the kitchen for a moment, distracting Vernon from Tombo’s flying bike breaking into pieces on the tv screen.

“Yeah, for a while now,“ he replies. “Not as close as you were with him tho, I guess.“

Mingyu throws his head back in laughter at that comment, and bellows out “You wish!“, laughing only more at the face Vernon makes.

“He’s a good hyung,“ he adds at some point, “he’s good at taking care of people, in every way possible. He wasn’t too into the idea of a relationship when I met him, and I didn’t press the matter because I was content with how casual our thing was, but he still made for a great friend.“

“And then Mingyu fell for some business major like a foolish monkey with no self-respect and forever gave away sex with one of our hottest sunbaes for five months with that mediocre man.“

Vernon laughs at Seokmin’s teasing and looks down at his hands with a grin. There are blisters in the crooks of his thumb from his exercises at the barre, rubbed raw from the constant grip after weeks of scrubbing the callouses soft when he wasn’t training. When he’d told Wonwoo about them, he’d suggested weightlifting gloves, and Vernon had just laughed at the thought of ballerinas in tutus visiting the weight room. 

But he feels light at the idea of this support system built around him. He had never considered himself very dependent on social relations, despite his extroverted nature when he was younger, and he wouldn’t call himself helpless without the relationships he has created now, but it still feels good, to reach out and to be reached out to. He likes it.

A lot.

One more thing that has changed since Vernon has reconnected with Wonwoo is that he is starting to listen to more of the music he listened to when he was still in middle school. It’s not to so much the punk that seems to cling to Wonwoo’s very presence, the unruly, musically unbound one, but he shuffles through Green Day’s albums again, saving Dookie into his Spotify library, and asks his father about the CDs still kept in his childhood bedroom, enthusiastic to find out that Avril Lavigne’s 2004 album is one of them. Some artists have recent tracks that don’t fit pop punk anymore, but he still adds songs like Super Fade by FallOutBoy or Twenty-One Pilot's The Outside when they come on shuffle on his way to Wonwoo’s place one afternoon. He’s headed to see him right after leaving the ballet school, planning to go through childhood memories in a shoebox filled with fading pictures and elementary craft projects that Wonwoo’s mother has brought on her last visit to Seoul, and to watch movies that shaped their early teenage years (not Diary of a Wimpy Kid) after Vernon had shared his renewed passion for his 2011 musical taste.

Vernon had spent an unusual day at the studio today, as they had mingled with the professional Suwon dancers from the studio a few streets down to learn some of their traditional movements, planning to incorporate into their next performance. Madame Seo has a clear vision of mixing classical European ballet style with the old Korean way of dancing for their Lunar New Year performance, and it had been a lot of fun to learn a wholly new way of moving for a day, to watch how the colourful hanboks had played around the women’s bodies and made them float as they hurried in tiny steps across their makeshift stage. At the end of their classes, some of the girls had asked the dancers to show them how they do their makeup for the suwon performances, which is less dramatic than the contour heavy face paint the big-stage ballet performances require, and Vernon, along with some of the other male dancers, had sat as their dolls as they had tried to imitate the laughing suwon dancers’ sharp eyeliner. Vernon did leave in a hurry to be able to catch the bus to Wonwoo’s place, but he’s still caught eye of the laughing gaggle of dancers gathered around a blushing Seungcheol as he’d picked up Jeonghan.

Vernon is still looking at his phone, skipping through songs that don’t immediately catch him, when he steps out of the bus. He has to orient himself quickly before he’s able to find the right way to Wonwoo’s apartment, located in a red brick building like there aren’t many left in Seoul, and probably also the only one of these buildings that doesn’t look incredibly shabby, and when he finds the right street, he pockets his phone, the digital map not necessary anymore, and begins walking.

It’s one of the rare days this week where the sun finds an opening in the clouds, and Vernon revels in the warmth it casts upon his face, enough for him to push back his beanie and loosen his scarf so he can breathe out of his mouth into the January sky, swallowing up the freezing air that invites itself against his teeth, his gums. It’s a fine line between consuming and being consumed and it nearly overwhelms him with sunlight and ice-cold, and Vernon has to stop on the sidewalk for a moment to ground himself again. When he looks back up, he’s not that far from Wonwoo’s place. There’s some guys his age standing between him and the front door, laughing and hopping up and down in the cold, rubbing each other’s arms to stay warm while one of them smokes a cigarette. In one of the windows, Vernon sees a movement, and he imagines that it’s an ahjumma overlooking the streets, or a child tapping against the glass to chase away some pigeons, or, maybe, Wonwoo who has seen him coming and is now moving to open his door for him. The thought makes him smile. One of the guys says something to him, so he pushes his headphones back as he closes the distance to them.

“Who the fuck made you the queen around here,“ he says, and his friends break out into spluttering laughter.

“Sorry?“ Vernon asks, genuinely confused, and slows his steps little. The guy who spoke now starts to glare at him and makes a dismissive gesture.

“Fuck, don’t come near us with that getup,“ he sneers, and one of the others barks out “Shit, I think he’s trying to get with you.“

Vernon stills for a millisecond, before speeding up again. The makeup. Somehow, he forgot that he was wearing it, and now he has to somehow get past this band of bigots. They’re too close to the entrance of Wonwoo’s apartment, which makes crossing the street nonsensical, but they’re not blocking the footpath, so Vernon decides to just put his headphones back on and hurry past them.

They don’t make it easy on him though. Matching their steps to his, they round him up, moving into every direction he tries to move and basically immobilising him. They’re still talking to him, which Vernon luckily doesn’t need to listen to, so he grits his teeth and tries to push through them, until one guy behind him yanks his headphones down. “Yo, hold on,“ Vernon says, quickly grabbing them back unscathed, and the men laugh again.

“’Yo’? You don’t need to try and sound like a real guy, princess,“ one of them cackles. “Who did you get all pretty for? Is there more like you meeting up here?“ another one asks, and the last one hollers “Anyone else wanna meet up with our little girlboy here?!“

They are not even being vaguely creative with their shouting, but it still gets to Vernon. He’s not particularly short, even taller than one of the guys here, but he’s also very non-confrontational, and all of his muscle is not made for punching people. If one of these guys decides to come at him, he’ll be pretty much defenceless, so he tries to get to the safety-promising green metal door as quickly as possible, gripping the straps of his backpack until his bare knuckles turn white. The cold shoulder doesn’t fare well with these guys though, who only get more heated.

“Hey, gay boy,“ the first one says again. “You think you’re that much better than us? You think you can ignore us?“

“Girls with pussys usually are pussy themselves,“ one throws in, causing his friends to erupt into laughter. Vernon is just about to dive around their shaking bodies when one hand slams into the wall in front of him.

“We’re not fucking done with you,“ the guy says, coming all close to Vernon who is now walking in circles, sidestepping every move made at him, trying to find an out. This is getting really annoying. Really exhausting. Really desponding.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,“ comes a voice, followed by the banging of a door ripped open. As everybody’s heads turn, Vernon jumps onto the empty street, bringing a row of cars between himself and the assailants. In the doorway he was trying so hard to reach is Wonwoo, naked feet and shortsleeved t-shirt, wet hair pushed out of his face, and pure, unadulterated rage twisting his face.

Pure relief washes through Vernon as he sees his friend stepping onto the freezing sidewalk, and he calmly makes his way around some cars before passing through them where Wonwoo is standing. He should have done that from the beginning, really, but hindsight is the least of his concerns when Wonwoo looks like the embodiment of a blessing, standing broad and strong between him and the three men.

“Great, another gay!“ one of them shouts, but even though they are still talking back, Vernon can see them slowly back away.

“Hey, thanks,“ he tells Wonwoo as he stands next to him, and the older immediately whips around to look at him, raking his eyes across Vernon’s face with anger and concern mixing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?“ he asks, not caring about the men’s crude gestures behind him, and lifts a hand to pat Vernon’s arm and shoulders down. Before Vernon can assure him that he’s fine, unharmed, untouched, that he’s safe now and that there’s no need to worry, the only guy who hasn’t fully backed off yet calls: “What, is that beauty queen your girlfriend?“

Wonwoo’s face hardens, and Vernon’s breath catches in his throat at the pure danger forming on Wonwoo’s face.

“Boyfriend,“ he snarls at the man, taking a step towards him. The guy laughs, but quickly raises his hands up as he takes his Wonwoo’s expression.

“My god, so sensitive,“ he tries to joke, but he’s on his own now, and Wonwoo is not going to stop to salvage the good mood. Vernon makes a face as his friend advances, but it’s not like he’s going to stop Wonwoo. Actually, it might be a contented face.

“Listen,“ Wonwoo spits as he grabs the guy by the collar. “You are not going to touch a hair on his body, or mine, for that matter, because if I you ever step closer than three meters to any of us again, I will fucking end you and your little friends.“ The guy looks terrified now, anger and shame beaten down by the fear that this notably muscular guy with tattoos and piercings all over his body is gonna rip him a new one in the middle of the sidewalk. “In fact,“ Wonwoo continues, “if I ever see any of you in this neighbourhood again, and I do not care which one of you or any other of your fucking friends live here, I’m going to call the fucking cops on your asses and get you for smoking weed in broad fucking daylight.“ Vernon nearly laughs, because none of the guys were smoking anything other than nicotine and tar and Wonwoo knows it, but the threat seems to get to the guy because he pushes against Wonwoo’s chest and scrambles away as soon as he gets free.

“I’m going to-“ he begins, patting down his pant’s pockets, but Wonwoo furrows his brows ever tighter together.

“SCRAM!“ he roars out. Without even waiting for the guy’s reaction, he turns back to Vernon and nods towards the door, waiting for him to finally get into the apartment. Vernon can’t help but grin as Wonwoo carefully closes the door behind him, his shoulders bunched up all the way to his reddened ears.

“That was something,“ he says, and Wonwoo begins shuffling his feet frantically.

“Fuuuuck,“ he exhales. “I’m gonna die? Are you going to die? Fuck I hope you’re okay, these guys didn’t touch you, right? I am going to fucking. Die.“

Vernon laughs again, because he’s relieved, because he’s thankful, because he’s happy, and because somehow, despite the low temperatures outside, he feels warm all over, from head to toe but especially in his chest. He unravels his scarf and wraps it around Wonwoo’s neck unceremoniously and grabs his icy, trembling hands in his, pulling him towards the stairs.

“Come on,“ he says, and he doesn’t think his voice has ever carried more honesty than now, “I’m fine, I’m alright. I promise. Let’s go back.“

Chapter Text

“I feel you watching me.“

The handle to turn down the window makes a rattling sound every time Wonwoo takes a turn. One of the little signs on his dashboard blinks orange, and Vernon points at it. “Isn’t your car gonna die?“ He knows nothing about cars, but he’ll just say anything to make Wonwoo grin at this rate. It doesn’t quite work when Wonwoo glances down quickly and just shrugs.

“It’s been doing this for nearly a year now, I don’t really need to fix it though.“

Vernon nods.

“I think I need a new battery.“

Wonwoo’s hair is dry by now, but he didn’t style it in any way before he ushered Vernon to the car to take him home, so it’s falling over his forehead in wild, choppy strands. “You don’t need to drive me,“ Vernon had said when he’d seen how Wonwoo grabbed his car keys after throwing on a thick sweater. His friend had turned to him with a tightlipped smile, the adrenaline high having subdued soon after the confrontation outside his apartment, and replied: “I know you’re cool and all, but in the end it feels better to come down from a shit situation like that in a place where you feel safe, I know that.“ Since then, Vernon has tried to articulate the feeling that actually, as long as he’s with Wonwoo, the come-down wouldn’t be hard anywhere.

“I scream, you scream, I’ve got brain soup.“

“I think soup is a great idea, actually.“

Wonwoo guffaws a laugh, and Vernon grins at the victory. The tips of Wonwoo’s ears are dark again, a contrast against the light silver of his piercings, and Vernon considers offering him his beanie, but they’re nearly home anyway, so he instead tries to list what kinds of soup he could theoretically make with the stuff they have at the apartment, which is hard since he doesn’t exactly know what stuff they have at the apartment. Wonwoo is also not being helpful and makes stupid suggestions as Vernon struggles.

“Make soup with eggs.“

“Seokmin doesn’t trust me in a three meter radius of eggs, so it’s a no.“

“Butter soup.“

“I don’t think we even have butter.“

“You don’t-? I mean, neither do I, but I thought Seokmin would care about things like butter.“

“I’ve never seen anybody in Korea use butter to cook, to be honest.“

“Okay then soup with the cat food I’ve got in the back. It’s practically spam.“

Vernon looks at Wonwoo, faking a pensive frown, then nods.

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good.“

Wonwoo stifles a laugh as he lets go of the wheel to hold his fist towards Vernon. “Happy to see our tastes are so similar.“

Vernon bumps his fist with a grin of his own, looking outside with a satisfied face. It looks like it could snow again.

“Cause everything you do is so wrong.“

Seokmin pulls a questioning face and a container of kimchi stew out of their fridge when Vernon asks about soup. “You’re home early,“ he inquires, and Vernon shrugs. He doesn’t really know how to talk about the assault without making it a big deal, which he knows it is because the state of society is detrimental and laced with warped gender roles and violent queerphobia, but on the other hand he is confident in himself and doesn’t feel bad and doesn’t want Seokmin to feel bad. He looks at Wonwoo, dark and steady in their untidy kitchen, who gives him a nod and a friendly smile, and Vernon turns back to Seokmin.

“Some dudes were harassing me on the streets, but Wonwoo came to help, so I’m alright now.“ There’s a deep despair on Seokmin’s face for a second, then anger, and finally disappointment. 

“Because of the make-up?“

Vernon reaches for his cheek, touches it lightly, and looks at the tips of his fingers like there’s going to be any residue on them. From the stove where he’s watching the reheating stew, Wonwoo is fixing him with a look.

“Yeah, I guess,“ Vernon replies with a smile, and Seokmin shakes his head.

“Bigots. Can’t see beauty when it’s right there in front of them.“

The stew is great, even if it’s store bought, and Seokmin soon leaves with a groan in order to go to his choir meet-up. After he’s left, Wonwoo coerces Vernon into doing the dishes and uses the opportunity to splash him with water until Vernon’s shirt clings to his skin and he interrupts the chores in order to pull Wonwoo into his room and load his arms with heating pads before looking for a new shirt. He uses the moment to sort through his training bag, too, hanging his leggings over the radiator and checking the state of his slippers.

“Are those my flowers?“ Wonwoo asks at some point, and Vernon turns to see him standing in front of his bed, looking upwards to the ceiling where a tight spiral of red, orange and yellow paper create a mandala, an upside down meadow. Vernon is not very good at the whole interior design thing, and he barely even has any pictures stuck to his walls other than a photo of him and his sister in the corner of his mirror, but at some point he’d looked at the dusty paper bouquet on his windowsill and decided to get to work. It had taken him nearly two hours to stick them all to the ceiling and it would probably affect his safety deposit in a few years, but seeing the look of pure wonder and glee on Wonwoo’s face makes it worth it. A smile spreads over the older’s face as his eyes, shining behind his glasses, skip over the construction.

“This one’s falling off,“ he says, pointing at the ceiling and looking at Vernon shyly. “Can I…?“

“By all means,“ Vernon replies, and grabs his laptop as Wonwoo climbs onto his bed gingerly, stretching up as soon as he stops wobbling on the mattress. His sweater lifts the slightest bit, pulling his undershirt along, and Vernon catches sight of his stomach, toned and inked with patterns he can’t quite identify. It’s funny how Wonwoo has been running cold all of his life and still keeps forgetting to tuck in his shirts.

As Wonwoo carefully reattaches the flowers to the ceiling, Vernon opens up Netflix, settling onto his bed carefully so Wonwoo doesn’t fall over.

“Oh, will we not watch in the living room?“ his friend asks, to which Vernon just shrugs.

“Too lazy,“ he replies, waiting for Wonwoo to sit cross legged next to him, with his shoulders hunched over instead of leaning back against the wall, before he starts the movie.

“The Perks of being a Wallflower, really now?“ Wonwoo mumbles, making a sour face.

Vernon giggles. “It’s a good movie! If we can’t go through your mom’s memorabilia, then let’s at least do this. I know it had a tight hold on us all in high school.“

“It’s sad!“

“Sometimes, but there’s good parts, too.“

“What, like Emma Watson’s side part?“

Vernon stills a little, staring at Logan Lerman writing his letter in the opening scene.

“Okay, fair point. But Paul Rudd is in it, so it’s evened out.“

Wonwoo surrenders with a laugh and pushes his glasses up his crinkled nose, not noticing Vernon’s smile when he concentrates on the movie. He remains rather silent as he watches, picking on a loose thread of his ripped jeans, the tips of his fingers barely even visible beneath the sleeves of his woollen sweater. For a minute or two, Vernon is transfixed watching Wonwoo’s hands, the chipped nail polish and the occasional glint of his rings, and he doesn’t even notice that his friend’s fingers have stilled on his knee until Wonwoo speaks up.

“Do you need help with these?“

Surprised, Vernon startles and rips open the salonpas bag that he was fiddling with mindlessly, causing Wonwoo to chuckle.

“Yeah, I gotta apply them to my back,“ Vernon says. “I took a quick shower before heading to your place, but it just doesn’t have the same effect on my muscles as a bath would.“

“Oh…“ Wonwoo replies. “I would’ve let you use my bathtub, that’s no problem.“

Vernon shoots him a quick smile. “It’s fine. Heating pads are annoying, but they basically do the same in the end. They’re just a hassle to put on when I’m on my own.“

With a clear look of hesitation, Wonwoo places his hand onto the packet that Vernon is still holding, his eyes slowly raking up from their hands to Vernon’s face. Whatever is happening on the screen right now, it goes by unnoticed. All there is in this moment is how careful Wonwoo is, conscious of their boundaries and mindful of Vernon’s wants.

“Should I…?“ he begins, and Vernon looks down at his hand. He nods, pulling back his own hands.

“Yeah, thank you,“ he says. “I’m just gonna…“ He motions for his shirt and Wonwoo leans back a little, staring at his own lap until Vernon has taken his shirt off and pulled his sweatpants down a notch so his lower back is fully exposed. Logan Lerman is currently sitting down next to Patrick at the football game, and Vernon looks over his shoulder to see Wonwoo fiddling with the patches.

“I think seven in total should be enough. I need one on my neck too.“

“Sure,“ Wonwoo replies, and Vernon turns back, trying to find the most comfortable position while sitting up. His muscles need to be relaxed to start with, but it’s hard to sit straight on the mattress, so in the end he just pushes his laptop back a little and lays down on his stomach. Wonwoo pushes his sleeves up, exposing his forearms. There’s a snake curling around his left wrist, accompanied by random cartoonish designs, and a plethora of dark flowers on his right arm. Gingerly, Wonwoo places the first patch on Vernon’s shoulder. His fingers as he grazes his skin are still cold.

Getting salonpas applied to him is nothing new to Vernon. As he said it himself, it’s difficult to put them on on his own, so Seokmin does it for him rather often. However, it is new to Wonwoo, who moves carefully like an insecure cat, and this awareness changes the mood for Vernon, too. Despite the heat of the salonpas seeping into his body, he still feels his skin raise and prickle when Wonwoo flattens his palms over his spine, pressing into his lower back where the patches keep unsticking, grinning at Wonwoo’s mumbling and burying his face into his blanket when fingers push against his skin a little too close to his waist. It’s intimate, he gets that. When he sits up so Wonwoo can apply the last two patches below his ribs, he thinks back on how they jumped over a lot of inhibitions to sit this closely to each other, inhibitions that didn’t exist when they were kids and putting bandaids onto each other’s bodies, but that brings so much more meaning to who they are to each other now, a decade later, a weight that rests upon Vernon’s soul in a way that he has no problem deciding whether it is comforting or oppressing. He leans towards the former.

“All good?“ Wonwoo asks, looking over his work.

“Yeah,“ Vernon nods. “It’s working, thank you.“ Next to him, Wonwoo stretches his arms over his head, obviously trying to stifle a yawn, so Vernon laughs and playfully hits him in the stomach.

“Do I bore you that much?“

Wonwoo gasps at first, then breaks out into giggles. “No, you’re great company, especially without your shirt on, don’t worry,“ he replies.

With an over dramatic eye roll, Vernon grabs for his shirt to throw it back on, revelling in the way the soft cotton traps the heat against his body. “Eye candy, so that’s all I am to you, huh?“

“Close,“ Wonwoo laughs. “I like to think that you complete my arm candy properties perfectly.“

“You’re right, this movie is too sad.“

“This is all Joshua’s fault. He gave me the book he didn’t want to read at fifteen and now look how I turned out. Emotionally crippled.“

“Nothing about this was funny. I can’t believe I thought this movie had funny moments.“

Wonwoo snorts. “We should have illegally streamed The Prisoner of Azkaban. That was a good Emma Watson moment.“ At this comment, Vernon starts laughing, too.

“What! It’s true! Patrick had way better hair than her, even Mary-Elizabeth did.“

As Heroes by David Bowie slowly starts to fade out, Vernon leans back against the wall, looking up at his sunset ceiling. The heating pads on his back are blazing hands that grab at his muscles and make them lax, causing him to sink, sink, sink into his pillow.

“Patrick in this movie was my bisexual awakening, actually,“ he says into the warmth of his company.

Wonwoo whistles through his teeth. “Great choice, yeah. How old were you when you watched this movie for the first time?“

Vernon cackles. “Oh shut up, yours was probably Astro Boy or something like that.“

After a stunned silence, Wonwoo bursts into laughter, throwing his head back. Vernon looks at him in that moment, so very closely, at his high cheekbones and the slope of his nose and the curve of his eyebrows, and he laughs too. When that movie came out, Vernon had been fourteen, and Wonwoo sixteen, and their situations had somehow been similar at school to that in the movie, with how Vernon would have been left first by Joshua, then by Wonwoo as they would graduate before him. In a way, thinking about that time isn’t too great, the loneliness and the silence when Vernon was on his own, but right now, all that was important from back then is just the way Wonwoo laughs, and the way it looks just the same as he did when he was sixteen, when his hair was long and unruly flying around his face, and his mouth is wide open as he lets his voice boom out of him joyfully. And Vernon is thankful.

Wonwoo turns to him with a big smile and looks him up and down, his eyes resting on Vernon’s face.

“Not to ruin the moment, but do you even have any make up remover?“

Vernon freezes.

“No.“

*

Vernon is pulling the cable of the ballet studio’s workout machine across his chest to Edvard Grieg’s Watchman when his last exercise before heading home gets interrupted by a commotion at the window. Chan is the first one to run up to Minhyuk and Yerim, even though he was the one who’d asked Vernon to interrupt choreography training to start doing some reps instead, which elicits a snort from the older dancer. He had readily agreed to stay longer than he usually would, even, but as soon as it’s five in the afternoon, Chan has instead decided to go people watching. Or maybe, as it seems, car watching, because Sicheng is rambling about the poor state of a vehicle parked outside.

“And suddenly my love life pales in the face of mysterious strangers,“ Jeonghan sighs from where he’s squatting with one foot firmly planted on the low stool behind him.

Vernon snickers. “There isn’t so much to talk about if you don’t finally make a move, hyung.“

“Hey!“ Even while swatting at Vernon, Jeonghan never loses his balance, his back perfectly upright. Vernon on the other hand accidentally lets the handle of his cable slip out of his hand as he tries to dodge the older’s attack. He stumbles forward, distracted by Chan’s exclamation about whoever he’s looking at outside, and sighs, stretching his arms over his head. Might as well check out what the noise is about.

As he walks towards his colleagues, still stretching his upper body, Chan turns around to fill him in. “There’s a thug outside the school but he’s just standing next to his car and waiting.“

“And smoking,“ Minhyuk adds with a humph, merely pretending to work out with one leg stretched over the barre.

“You can’t just call someone a thug, Chan,“ Vernon says, and glances a look at Yerim who is rubbing her clothed upper arms.

“He does look kind of threatening,“ she says quietly, and Vernon furrows his brow. The girls in the studio are strong, he knows that first hand, but not everyone handles insults as nonchalantly as he would. If there’s a guy outside making the dancers wary of stepping out of the studio to get home, someone ought to confront him to get away. On his tiptoes, Vernon tries to catch a glimpse of the person outside.

“Wha, look at how he’s scowling,“ Chan shudders as the person looks up, to which Yerim whines and hits the male dancer in the arm. Vernon on the other hand can hardly suppress a laugh.

“Stand behind me,“ he instructs the dancers, who begin questioning him as he climbs to crouch on the barre, but still act as a dutiful shield from any instructor’s eyes that would reprimand Vernon. When he opens the window however, he is met with a fit of protest, Chan latching to his arm and Minhyuk and Sicheng both scrambling to reach the knob to close the window again. “What are you doinggg!“ Chan whisper-shouts as Vernon leans his upper body into the frosty January air, feeling Yerim's small hands clasp around his thigh as the barre wobbles under his weight.

Outside, the whole world is black and white, a flurry of grey exhaust fumes and cold breaths. One spot on the pavement seems pitch black, as a man in a long leather coat leans against his beaten up car and squints up at the window.

“Wonwoo,“ Vernon calls down, and his friend’s eyes widen in recognition. Behind him, the surprise and confusion of his friends is palpable, but he ignores them in order to wave at Wonwoo to get into the building. When Vernon jumps back down to the ground, Chan looks mortified.

“I am so sorry for insulting your friend’s car,“ Sicheng says, and as Vernon waves him off, Chan scrambles back to the window to watch Wonwoo disappear into the school.

“That’s the same hyung we saw on Christmas?“ he exclaims, incredulous. “He looked so different then!“ Vernon merely shrugs as he walks towards the bench to grab his backpack and throw over a jacket.

“He did look nice enough when he smiled all big like that,“ Yerim muses, and Vernon grins.

“He’s not wearing his glasses,“ he explains, watching as Jeonghan takes Vernon’s state of dressing as his cue to get into sweatpants as well and get out of the studio. Next to him, Chan still looks beaten down.

“Ah, I feel bad for saying mean things about your hyung, hyung,“ he says with a sorry face. “I know how close you two are, I wanted to leave a good first impression.“ Vernon squeezes Chan’s shoulder warmly at those words and smiles.

“He still doesn’t know you, it’s not too late just yet,“ he grins, and then nods towards the door that leads outside to the staircase, at the bottom of which Wonwoo probably stands out like a stranded crow. “Wanna come with?“

To The Spring is still audible as Vernon looks down into the foyer, wrapped in his thick duffle coat and a scarf, to where Jeonghan has chatted up his friend and is now pointing and waving at him. Vernon waves back with a grin, and he sees Chan shyly imitate him to his side. Wonwoo smiles up at him, the music still pouring over the railing and down the stairs as Chan forgets to close the door.

“… so as I was saying, the girls were all really worried because of you, so you should maybe be more considerate next time and wait for our Nonie-yah with your car parked somewhere else,“ Jeonghan is cheerfully explaining to Wonwoo, who nods apologetically.

“I’m really so sorry, I didn’t even think of how I would look,“ he apologises, but Vernon interrupts him as he reaches his friends, plunging his hand into Wonwoo’s coat pocket and fishing out his glasses.

“Hi,“ he greets him, and Wonwoo mumbles “bad habit“ as he puts on his spectacles. His ears are bright red, shining silver and blush. He then turns to smile at Vernon, shrugging. It’s clear that he feels out of place in the elegant entrance of the ballet school, so Vernon tries to ease the atmosphere by making conversation. “So I’ve seen you already met Jeonghan,“ he says, which causes Wonwoo to blink in surprise.

“Seungcheol-ssi’s boyfriend? I didn’t know, he just started talking to me.“

Before Vernon can roll his eyes, amused by Jeonghan’s forwardness and lack of tact, Chan barks out a laugh.

“Yeah, if hyung had had the sensibility to ask him out before demanding his hand in marriage, maybe he’d be his husband even.“ While Jeonghan exclaims in protest and goes to put his dongsaeng in a headlock, Wonwoo looks at Vernon wide-eyed. The grin the dancer shoots him must put him at ease, however, and Wonwoo looks at Chan knowing that he’ll get the whole story about Jeonghan’s relationship problems later.

“You did the nutcracker, right? Chan, was it?“

As if frozen on the spot, the youngest stares up at Wonwoo. “Yup,“ he says, gingerly running a hand through his hair. “That’s, uh, that’s me, Lee Chan.“

Wonwoo nods as Jeonghan suppresses his laughter behind him, unbothered by Vernon’s elbow jabbing into his sides. “Your jumps were impressive,“ Wonwoo says, and Vernon can see Chan’s face light up in pride.

“Thanks! They’re my best assets.“

“Aaw, our little Channie is the best in the studio,“ Jeonghan coos, wrapping his arms around the smaller’s shoulders. “He gets all the big roles and he never makes mistakes.“

As Chan melts under the praise, Vernon finally turns to Wonwoo, whose ears have finally assumed a lighter shade of pink.

“Why are you here?“ he asks.

Wonwoo shrugs, a sheepish smile spreading on his face.

“Felt better about it. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you all, I should have asked before coming here.“ Around the two, dancers are walking towards the main doors after their day of incessant training, sometimes in unhurried, chatting clusters, sometimes with a quick wave to Vernon and his friends before facing the biting evening chill.

“It’s fine now, Jeonghan hyung seems to have given you a lecture already,“ Vernon replies, nodding at his friend. Over them, the music finally gets turned off, prompting Chan to escape Jeonghan’s hold and shout them a last goodbye before running back up to the room, and Jeonghan looks at them expectantly, motioning his head towards the exit.

“You wanna go to the record store?“ Vernon asks as he heads out, and Wonwoo grins at him.

“Sure thing,“ he says, holding open the door for Jeonghan who curtsies exaggeratedly at him.

“Don’t stay up too late, Bonon-ah,“ he teases, “There’s still more work to do tomorrow!“

“Go and talk things out with Seungcheol first, hyung, we’ll see who stays up late,“ Vernon claps back, soliciting a pained groan and a distant “shut uuuup“ as Jeonghan trudges to the bus stop.

“I’m guessing Seungcheol said no?“ Wonwoo inquires, fiddling with his lighter, and Vernon laughs.

“He said no. Something about Jeonghan hyung’s pride suffering the same damage as his own for a change.“

“Oof, that’s heavy.“ Wonwoo unlocks the door on the driver’s side, grinning at Vernon over the hood of his car as he swings his door open. “So glad we’re not considering marriage yet.“

His cheeks are dusted pink again as he goes to sit behind the wheel, and Vernon looks over the street with a barely contained snort before he gets in as well. The car is warm, for once, and a feeling of comfort pools in the dancer’s stomach as he leans back into the hard seat. Wonwoo turns on the ignition with deft fingers, and as he keeps doing so often in the past month, leaves Vernon’s guts vibrating with anticipation for a future where this is still who they are.

*

The days pass slowly, now that the studio doesn’t have any big recital upcoming anymore. They diligently prepare the Lunar New Year spectacle, but Vernon finds the time to be lax and to lean back. Significantly less evenings are excused with tiredness when Seokmin asks him to watch a movie or play video games with him, and Vernon doesn’t feel like immediately passing out after stepping out of the bathtub nowadays. Work at Mr. Hong’s shop is spent accepting tardy Christmas present returns and selling appliances to replace those that somehow got ruined during the festivities, which causes Mr. Hong and his employees to exchange the wildest stories about their customers (the general favourite is, by far, the grandma who had tried to dispose of her eggnog in the toaster, unpleased by the sweet Western drink, and caused a chain reaction of panicked people apparently accidentally destroying half the kitchen set-up. Vernon personally really likes the newly gifted pet bird blamed for the destruction of somebody’s television cables.) When Vernon returns home from those two days a week where he works in the shop, he exchanges stories with Seokmin who has an apparently equally wild time during his musical production and class.

Less time spent sleeping and being exhausted also means more time spent with friends other than his own roommate and Wonwoo who has snaked his way into Vernon’s daily routine. Chan invites Vernon out to an arcade for a change, where, despite continuously wanting to go out for a drink during the past month, the younger exclusively nurses his chocolate milks while destroying Vernon on the dance machines, and Vernon finds himself in front of a lavish meal with a random mix of university kids and, surprisingly, Minghao in Mingyu’s kitchen one evening, talking to people he’s only ever heard of before. It’s fun and it doesn’t entirely consume Vernon’s social battery, but he still appreciates the meetings with the quieter people more when they come around.

“I’m so close to losing my mind if I get cancelled on again.“

“How exactly do you define ‘losing your mind’? Like, would I be in immediate danger?“

“Probably shouting a lot and whipping out curses you’ve never heard before. As long as you don’t stand between me and the wall I’m going to punch a hole through, you’ve got nothing to worry about.“

Alright, so maybe Jihoon isn’t all that quiet after all. The studio in which Vernon has settled himself down on a Wednesday afternoon is a bigger mess than the last time he’s seen it, with sheet music strewn across the coffee table and a concerning amount of 1,5 litre bottles of coke piled in one corner. The desk that the producing major is actually working on is mostly kept tidy, save for the student himself, sprawled out in front of his computer. Vernon reaches over him and pushes the keyboard out of Jihoon’s reach to prevent any accidents.

“Why don’t you sing the ballad yourself?“ he asks, listening to the demo. Jihoon’s voice is really good, powerful and high, and Vernon thinks it fits the song well enough, but it’s not his project so he knows that he can’t be the judge of that.

As if to confirm his thoughts, Jihoon groans. “I want to do the harmonies in this ballad, but it’s boring if it’s both my voice. I want something huskier for the song, and I already recorded a female duet.“

Vernon ponders a little. “Husky how?“

“I guess kinda like you but actually trained, and with more range into high tonalities. Wonwoo has it both, but I’m not putting someone in front of my mic who uses his range to butcher IU songs.“

The comment makes Vernon chortle, and Jihoon turns from his rest on the desk to look at him with an uncharacteristic pout. If he allows himself to be cutesy in front of Vernon, that means that he must be properly exhausted.

“Your roommate sings, doesn’t he?“

“No chance,“ Vernon replies with an apologetic shake of his head. “He’s got the musical to prepare for, even though he wouldn’t admit that it would be too much for him.“ Jihoon wails again, startling Vernon. If the situation is that dire, he’ll have to think a bit harder.

“… I could ask Seungkwan?“

Jihoon whips around. “Key from SHINee?“ Vernon stares at him for a good second.

“I mean yeah, I guess? That was from Halloween though so-“

His friend makes a dismissive hand motion, interrupting him. “Do you two even talk?“

Vernon shrugs, which the producer seems to take as a yes. “Good, then give him my number and have him text me asap, please for the love of God. I got more songs to worry about.“

“Sure thing,“ Vernon replies, returning to the couch as Jihoon opens a different file with newfound vigour. “Piece of cake.“

Vernon and Seungkwan do not talk. Sure, there was the call on new year’s, and since then the two of them will text from time to time, mostly just exchanging classical music memes, but that’s the extent of it. At least the older is not a taboo in the Lee-Chwe household anymore, and Seokmin has no qualms talking about his best friend in front of Vernon anymore, which is a relief, but the two still have not met each other again. To ask for a favour now of all things…

“Do it!“ Seokmin says. “I mean, I could ask him for you, but do it! That would be a great chance for Kwannie and he’d be happy to hear from you!“

Vernon picks at his orange gingerly, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the Peggy Gou song that came on shuffle. “Wouldn’t it be awkward tho?“

Around the slice of fruit stuffed into his mouth, Seokmin manages to giggle. “Since you’re already asking like that I can assure you that you’d make it awkward when it probably wouldn’t be that bad. But if you think it would work better asking him face to face, you can pick me up from choir tomorrow evening and then ask him. I’ll tell him you’ll be there, if you want?“

Vernon nods, thankful for his friend. Honestly, he’s glad they were able to find each other, because it’s great to have people around that understand you without many words. Seokmin has picked Vernon’s silent language apart and rearranged it into a manual for himself to understand, whereas Seungkwan should have had more time to get to know Vernon’s signals before getting together - in the end, that had kinda been how their relationship had failed. The fact that Wonwoo on the other hand still knows how Vernon works even after being separated for nearly three years speaks for Vernon’s unchanging mannerism. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but he is glad that it simplifies his friendship with Wonwoo. For now however, he’ll have to be vocal for Seungkwan - Jihoon is counting on him after all.

“Which one is he?“

“Hyung there’s, like, twenty guys up there, and he’s not the tallest either.“

Jihoon looks at him impatiently. “Well, does he sing tenor or bass? At least I’d know where he stands then.“

Vernon’s helpless shrug just makes Jihoon snort amusedly as the older realises that he’s not very knowledgeable in matters of classical music that you sing to. Up until arriving at the address Seokmin had given him with Jihoon, who had tagged along spontaneously, Vernon also hadn’t known that the choir wasn’t actually part of the university. The older had looked at the name of the building and said “oh, it’s that extracurricular I was too lazy for,“ and waltzed in like he knew exactly where he had to go. Now, the two of them are standing in front of the door to the room the singers are rehearsing in, peering in through the window in the door. Vernon isn’t even sure if Seokmin has seen his text about Jihoon yet.

Inside the room, a piece comes to its end, and Jihoon nods. “I mean, all in all, they’re good. Not a fan of Schubert, but you know. The arrangement is good.“ 

“As far as I know, they do the arrangements themselves,“ Vernon replies, and Jihoon nods like he knows already. Maybe he does know, and this is what he was too lazy for. The conductor is now motioning somebody to come forward, and Vernon points at them. “That’s Seungkwan, right there.“

Just as blonde as the last time he’d seen him, Seungkwan hands the conductor a sheet and points on something, and after some more hand motioning, the singer turns to the rest of the choir and talks to them, the conversation sounding muffled through the door. Jihoon has pushed himself in front of Vernon to have the best view through the window, making use of his lacquer platform boots, and Vernon just so sees over his head how Seungkwan stands straighter, one hand lifted, and starts singing the same song the choir sung before, but in solo. There’s a gasp and Jihoon pushes the door open a tad, pressing his ear to the gap.

“Hyung-“ Vernon starts, but he gets shushed loudly. The producer’s eyes are shining, and when the rest of the singers start following Seungkwan’s lead, he starts cackling deeply, nodding his head. He looks a bit mad, his eyes even more expressive with the pitch black eyeliner around them, so Vernon gingerly grabs the elder’s shoulders and pulls him away slowly, ignoring his hissed protests. The door falls shut with a thud and the two startle, freezing in their spots.

“I think it’s better if we wait a bit down the hallway,“ Vernon mumbles, ignoring what he recognises as Seokmin’s wide grin, as well as cowering from Seungkwan’s glare as the blonde had whipped around, not once interrupting his singing. He’d like to escape that wrath.

For the last three minutes that the choir still goes, Vernon tries to level himself so he doesn’t laugh first thing when Seungkwan asks if they were the ones to interrupt, but Jihoon’s mumbled scheming isn’t necessarily helping him calm down. As the clock strikes seven thirty-two, the giggles have died down and the door opens, revealing unassuming students that don’t look at them twice, and finally Seokmin’s beaming face.

“Vernon!“ he exclaims, striding up to him. The addressed man waves at him, leaning a bit to the side to wave at Seungkwan too, but the blonde is fussing over something in his bag, not meeting his eye. Vernon can’t help but smile at that, knowing full well that the blonde is putting on a show for the dramatics, and he’s glad that that much hasn’t changed.

Seokmin reaches the two and smiles at Jihoon. “Sunbae! Hi, didn’t think you’d be here, too.“ Behind his friend, Seungkwan finally looks up, surprised to see the shorter man.

“Jihoon sunbae, the one you were in the studio with?“ he asks, directed at Vernon.

“Yup,“ Vernon replies. “Hi Seungkwan.“

“Hi,“ Jihoon clips in.

The blonde grins up at the taller, looking relaxed and in no way out of his comfort zone, as Vernon had feared. “Hi. Minnie said you wanted to ask me for something?“

It’s short and to the point, but friendly enough, so Vernon swings his arm into Jihoon’s general direction and nods. “Actually, yeah, Jihoon hyung needs a vocalist for one of his tracks and I told him I’d ask you, since you said you were trying to get out there. He came along to get a listen tonight.“

Something in Seungkwan’s face shifts at that, his smile gets softer around the edges and his eyes crinkle up for a split second, but before he can reply anything to Vernon, the two get interrupted by Jihoon’s massive eye roll.

“Okay, not to be rude, but Seungkwan could you please maybe sing any ballad with a proper pitch shift?“

Bristling at the challenge, Seungkwan stands up straight and hikes his bag up his shoulder. “Could? Maybe? Oh for sure, sunbae.“

And then, without any qualms and in the middle of the hallway, he starts rapping Bang Yongguk’s I Remember.

As Jihoon’s mouth falls open, Vernon can’t help but “pfft“ very loudly, while Seokmin nearly doubles over laughing. Unbothered, Seungkwan proceeds to flawlessly segway into the chorus of the song, at which point Vernon has to hold Seokmin up who is gasping for air and cheering at the same time.

“Good one,“ Vernon giggles, offering Seungkwan a bro handshake after he’s finished his short but not less impressive showcase, and the older’s eyes glint smugly as he accepts.

“You’re booked,“ Jihoon says with a wide grin, pulling out his phone already to have Seungkwan put in his contact. Then he turns to Vernon, shaking his head incredulously at him.

“Thanks, man,“ he says, sincerity clearly audible in his voice. “This assignment has been such a pain in my ass that I could kiss you right now, but that’s not my job, so dinner’s on me next time.“ Ignoring Vernon’s choked up laughter and Seungkwan’s bewildered expression, he nods at the three younger men. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some songs to write for Seungkwan. See you!“

With a gust of wind, Jihoon is out the front door, hopping down the threshold of the building into the darkness. Seokmin chuckles lowly.

“I wasn’t aware Jihoon sunbae was this… fun,“ he says, turning to Vernon who just shakes his head.

“I think he’s just really sleep deprived.“

Suddenly, two hands tightly grip his arms, and Vernon turns from the door to see Seungkwan beaming up at him. “You landed me a gig!“ he exclaims, and Vernon laughs.

“Yeah, man, of course. I think you’d be great for that song, it’s amazing.“

“Naaaw, who knew you’d be such a sap.“ Flustered, Seungkwan playfully boxes Vernon’s arm, but the taller just grins, waiting for his friend to continue. “Thanks, though. That’s pretty amazing of you.“ With a lot of cooing, Seokmin envelops the blonde in a big hug, only letting go of him to instead link their arms together.

“I think it was really nice of Jihoon sunbae to invite us for dinner,“ he says, “and I wouldn’t say no to a snack right now either.“

Laughing, Vernon lets his own arm get linked with Seokmin’s, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Seungkwan’s halting.

“Yeah, can we go back to the part where he wanted to kiss Vernon??“

*

It’s well into January now and Wonwoo really needs to stop using the Christmas holidays as his excuse for his slow work. Soonyoung is working on his Bachelor thesis, Jihoon is constantly producing, but somehow, Wonwoo can’t bring himself to do much more other than hurry from class to assignment to his cats. The kittens are growing well now, Napoleon Bonaparte being the biggest (ironically, but as expected), and Wonwoo has his hands full trying to keep his apartment intact while also getting shit done. It’s snowing more, though, so he’s taken the habit of constantly carrying Kimchi-Jjigae around, sometimes one of his sisters as well. The days are slow, at least until Wonwoo has finished his last pack of cigarettes and gets bullied into working by Jihoon.

“It doesn’t make sense for me to not have bought any new ones,“ he complains, phone slotted between his shoulder and his ear as he rips open a packet of cereal. It’s past eleven in the evening and he needs to review fifteen more assignments by bored first-year students before the next morning, but he can’t concentrate, feeling jittery and cold.

“If you go out to get new ones now, you’ll just find a new reason to procrastinate after you’ve smoked three in a row,“ Jihoon grumbles from the other end of the line. “Get new ones tomorrow, it’s not like you’re quitting cold turkey.“

“But I wanna know who took them, too,“ Wonwoo groans, looking for his almond milk. He’s not consuming any dairy after six p.m.

Distantly, he hears Jihoon snorting. “You sound like somebody stole your stash of weed.“

“Says you, coke addict.“

His friend genuinely laughs, and then Wonwoo can hear some talking in the background. He recognises Soonyoung’s voice, which means that Jihoon’s actually home tonight and not holed up in his studio. Resting his phone on the counter, he starts eating his cereal standing up, staring into his dark hallway and listening in as Jihoon shouts at Soonyoung through his door.

“No, don’t come in-“ he hears him say, and after some jostling, Wonwoo hears Soonyoung’s voice clear through the speaker.

“Hi Wonwoo! I took your cigs.“

Exasperated, Wonwoo sets his bowl down. “Any reason? Or just a random act of pettiness because I didn’t say anything about your tiger socks?“

Soonyoung giggles. “Nah, you always say something about my tiger socks. I just took a pack someday cause you need to stop I guess. Also I see people say that it’s a stress reliever and I wanted to try.“

In the background, Jihoon bursts out laughing, and Wonwoo can’t help but chuckle as he replies “Hypocrite“ at Soonyoung. He can practically hear his friend shrug before he says “Well, didn’t work, they were disgusting. I’ll give them back tomorrow, if I find them.“

Suppressing another groan, Wonwoo checks his watch. “Alright, sure. Now I gotta figure out what to do with all the nervous energy.“

Closer to the phone, Jihoon speaks up: “Do your fucking work, dude. And go to sleep. Bye.“

Soonyoung shouts a last “love ya!“ before the call ends, and Wonwoo stares into the void of his unlit hallway, in silence once again. Until he realises that the void is staring back at him through Kimchi-Jjigae’s reflective eyes. Releasing a sigh, Wonwoo grabs his bowl and heads back into his room. He doesn’t go to sleep. He does the work he’s supposed to do, and then he pulls out his books and does research for his thesis until The Earl jumps onto his desk and screams into his face at four a.m.

*

“You sure you want me here? You look kinda tired.“

Wonwoo snorts as he takes Vernon’s backpack and heads into the living room to turn down Johnny Rotten’s cynical remarks about laziness.

“It’s either just Jun’s hyperactive ass on its own or Jun’s hyperactive ass toned down by whatever chill pill you’ve taken. Also, the water is ready anyway, so it’d just be a waste if you left now.“

“Neat,“ Vernon says with a grin that Wonwoo catches from the corner of his eye, and then the younger bends down to pat Earl Grey’s head enthusiastically. “Your comebacks are getting weak, tho. You need a break.“

With an amused huff, Wonwoo returns to the coffee table in front of his sofa. “Yeah, maybe when you’re done. I’m on a roll right now.“ Just humming as a reply, Vernon heads into the bathroom, the grey cat following him, and Wonwoo looks down at his notes.

He wasn’t lying when he said that he’s got a good pace right now, but that has been the case for over a week now, ever since that call with Jihoon and Soonyoung. He’ll do work for his and Professor Min’s courses, arrange his schedule for the next semester when he’ll get two Introduction to 20th century Korea classes to teach at once, and then continue compiling data for his research, rarely interrupted by anything else than food breaks for both him and the cats and the odd visit by his friends that use the kittens as de-stressors as much as he does. Vernon coming over after his time in the dance studio has become a common occurrence as well, and surprisingly enough, Wonwoo finds that he can work well when the younger just sits on the sofa behind him and plays on his switch that he brought along. There’s no need to fill the silence between them when Wonwoo types away at his laptop, but he doesn’t feel like he’s losing any time when he turns around to just talk to Vernon and joke about whatever anecdotes they have to share, or to explain an irregularity he found while comparing essays from the 70s with folk songs that date back several hundred years and relay the process of milling rice into flour. Those meetings started after Wonwoo had picked up Vernon from his training and the dancer had joked that he’d have to stop meeting his friend, since he kept delaying his baths for him. Wonwoo had felt bad, even though Vernon had been the one to spend half an hour talking to Jaehyun, the clerk in the record shop, before heading out with only one of the vinyls he had been considering, Wonwoo leaving empty handed, so he’d suggested Vernon could just use his bathtub if he ever wanted. Somehow, that meant that Vernon took him up on that offer at least twice a week now. But Wonwoo wasn’t gonna complain. He enjoys the time he gets to spend with Vernon, and him being devastatingly cute when he plays with the cats or sharply handsome when he comes out of the bathroom with damp skin is not too much of a distraction. Honestly.

Today though, Vernon is right: Wonwoo is tired as shit. He has to get through the last essay about the US’s impact on the splitting of the Korean peninsula in World War II for one of the classes he assists at, glad that this person at least doesn’t find some way to shift the blame to North Korea, letting the Sex Pistols tour through his living room. When No Fun starts, Wonwoo pulls his glasses off his face in order to bury his face in his hands. Napoleon curls up in his lap, and he sighs. Behind him, he feels the sofa dip.

“You okay?“ Vernon asks, and Wonwoo leans his head back, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, the assignments were actually pretty good, all things considered. I just need to upload the corrections before Jun arrives and hijacks my laptop to put on The Cure performances on loop. Last time he came over after a day at the law firm he spent three hours on my carpet and I had to read books instead.“

Above him, Vernon snorts, and after a while taps a finger against the cushioning of the sofa next to Wonwoo’s ear and says: “I texted him, he says he just wants to talk about his grandma and cuddle. Us or the cats is still out in the open, though.“

Wonwoo is unable to hold back a fond smile before he breaks out into a grin, blindly raising a thumbs up for Vernon. He doesn’t even know where Vernon got Junhui’s number from, but he’s thankful and giddy at the thought that in every way possible, his younger friend is now part of his life, and seemingly irrevocably so. The warmth that spread through his chest at the thought is replaced by sharp claws, however, when Napoleon Bonaparte swats at his necklace and hits him full on.

“Oof!“ he exhales, eyes flying open as Vernon cackles behind him. His laptop is still open, the students’ assignments waiting to be submitted, and a full cup of tea is steaming next to it, one that Wonwoo didn’t even notice Vernon putting there. The cat has jumped out of his lap, there’s nothing more in Wonwoo’s way and everything behind the finish line, so he pushes up his sleeves and cracks his neck, getting ready for the last stretch. This isn’t a race, but he’ll still come first.

*

“So,“ Jun says, taking a loud sip of his iced tea. “Vernon.“

Looking up from his stack of papers that still has him working on a Sunday morning, Wonwoo sincerely hopes that he’s able to convey his exasperation. “Junhui, no. We are not doing this today.“

“Ha!“ his friend exclaims, leaning over the coffee table and brandishing his cup directly into Wonwoo’s face. “So we are doing this! Him! We are doing him!“

Honestly, Wonwoo would love to pass away all of a sudden so he doesn’t have to deal with friend’s nosiness. How fast would he have to slam his head against the table to achieve the desired effects? It doesn’t help when Soonyoung shouts from the kitchen, where he’s probably watching the cats eat, “Who are we doing?“

“Nobody!“ Wonwoo calls back, dragging his hands over his face. His fingertips come back black from his makeup that he’s messing up, but whatever, there are more important things to worry about. “Please turn the music down, I’m tired of shouting through the apartment to communicate when I’m trying to get shit done in the first place.“

Jun gasps exaggeratedly. “Not our saviour Left At London, how dare you, Wonwoo! Betrayal! You hater!“ He would probably think of more ways to annoy Wonwoo if Jihoon didn’t speak up from behind the sofa.

“This sounds cool, I really like this.“

Jun whips around, donning a wide grin. “Aaaw, Jihoonie, thank you! Look, Wonwoo, he’s taking my side!“ Jun leans over the sofa’s back and pats Jihoon’s head. The youngest of the four barely acknowledges the affection, still petting Kimchi-Jjigae in his lap and scrolling through his phone. He’d come over to bring Soonyoung his ADHD pills and just spontaneously stayed after getting reminded by Wonwoo’s cats that Wonwoo, well, has cats. Since he’s arrived, the two roommates have not exchanged that many words save for an exhausted ‘Thank you’ and a bone crushing hug when Soonyoung had finally gotten his meds, but the lack of talking could also have been caused by the older of the two passing out on Wonwoo’s kitchen floor, energy sucked dry by the fit of overdrive that hit him that morning. Luckily though, there has been no more crying since Jihoon and Jun arrived (whenever Jun arrived - he just appeared in Wonwoo’s kitchen at some point and woke Soonyoung up by rubbing his back), because the desperate tiredness of Soonyoung, who had slept over to escape Jihoon’s broody mood, was starting to rub off on Wonwoo, who was just trying to fill out forms that the department board wanted him to hand in so he doesn’t have to bother with that paperwork during the Seollal break. What Soonyoung was trying to get done, Wonwoo has no idea.

“Back to the topic tho, please tell us about Vernon.“

If the table has a dent, that’s Jun’s fault. So is the bump that is bound to appear on Wonwoo’s forehead. Around him, his friends cackle, cooing annoyingly and generally making fun of him for “acting like a high schooler“, and Wonwoo lets out a deep, deep sigh and stands up.

“I’m gonna step out for a drag, do what you like.“ With that, he slips into his big leather rain boots that he doesn’t need to lace and throws the thick woollen jacket with the paint splatters, that he knows has a fresh pack of cigarettes in its pocket, over his shoulders. The music, now some angry song about racism towards Asians that Minghao brought into his playlist, is finally fading to a stop as the door closes behind him.

Wonwoo is aware that he is running away. He’s come to terms with his feelings for Vernon, he knows he’s in love, and he also knows what to do about that - which is nothing. However, ‘nothing' also means not talking about his feelings, ever. It’s on him, really, because he gives his friends enough credit to know that they would have caught on eventually, but it feels unfair that Wonwoo has to bare himself completely. He doesn’t want to. It would make him hope.

As he stands across his apartment building, arm wrapped around himself so no snow falls into his jacket, Wonwoo watches the smoke mingle with the clouds, wishing that he could join them, if only for a while. Just enjoy the things from a distance, without getting involved.

On the other side of the street, the door falls shut with a dull thud, and Wonwoo keeps his eyes glued on the watercolour sky, formless without his glasses on, as he listens to one of his friends’ steps. The sound of a lighter clicking and the soft exhale tells him it’s Junhui, and he closes his eyes again.

“Sorry that Jihoon mentioned high school. And sorry that I keep pestering you about Vernon. I’d like to be part of whatever’s going on, but I understand if you want to keep it to yourself.“

Wonwoo smiles into the cold, taking another deep drag from his cigarette. When he pushes the smoke out of his lungs, he opens his eyes and looks at his friend.

“Thank you,“ he says, and he means it. Jun was the first one to be there for him after he’d left Korea, meeting Wonwoo in Tokio on short notice after being his online friend for barely over a year. If anything, what happened during that time, and later when Wonwoo returned to Korea, shows him that Junhui will always have his back, no matter how big or small his problems are. It’s proof that he can trust him, so Wonwoo takes a big breath in.

“You remember when you started working in Korea and I introduced you to the group, and there was always kind of talk about a different friend that I didn’t see that much anymore?“

“’Cause the dude ghosted you? Yeah, I remember. Neither Hoon nor Youngie were able to tell me anything about him because they didn’t even know him.“

Wonwoo chuckles. “Yeah, at the time, only Mingyu did.“ He lets Jun make his attempt at smoke rings before he continues. “That was Vernon.“

With a surprised cough, his friend turns to him, eyes comically wide. “Huh?? Are you serious?“

Wonwoo can’t help but grin at the reaction and nods, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, we talked it out, though. He had some pretty heavy issues at that time and dropped out of uni in the process, but of course I didn’t know why that meant that we couldn’t talk at all anymore, so I thought it was because he’d… I don’t know. Caught wind of my feelings and was uncomfortable around me. It was more of a friendship crush back then, but it still was kind of hard on me.“

“Naaaw that’s so sweet,“ Jun grins, before catching the way Wonwoo is still looking at his shoes with a nearly melancholy expression. He nods, extinguishing his cigarette against the fence they are leaning on.

“So now, even though you know your suspicions back then were wrong, you still feel like you could drive him away if you made your feelings for him known?“

Wonwoo laughs, a single, dry sound, and he looks up at his friend, frowning. “I suppose that’s it.“ Jun holds his pocket ashtray towards him and waits for Wonwoo to get rid of his cigarette butt in it before burying his hands in his dark brown coat and leaning ever so slightly against Wonwoo.

“It sucks that you feel that way, man. And I’m sorry, and I know you don’t want me to get involved, but the way this kid looks at you- I don’t think he’d leave.“

Against his resolution, Wonwoo can’t help the warmth, that treacherous hope, blooming in his chest, and he hangs his head low. If it weren’t so cold outside, he’d hide his eyes behind his hands in a desperate motion, but for now they remain balled up in his pockets.

“You don’t get it, Jun, Vernon has looked at me like that all his life. When people started giving me shit about my appearance and basically branding me as an outcast in high school, he noticed right away, and I don’t even know how. Teachers were blaming me for everything that was going wrong in my life, my parents were being weird about me expressing the slightest hints regarding my sexuality, and before I could run away, Vernon somehow caught on and stuck to me during my last year without asking about any of it. He’s just been constantly there and looking out for me and I don’t want this to be a weird dependency on what I needed when I was seventeen.“

From the side, his expression now serious and understanding, Jun looks at Wonwoo, silently listening. When Wonwoo hisses a breath through his teeth, the air freezing against his gums, the older hums and asks, “Was he that Hansol kid?“

It feels like the sky is dropping down on him, trying its best to suffocate him, but Wonwoo nods, and, barely audible over the whisper of the snowflakes that immediately melt on the pavement, replies.

“Yes.“

After a loaded pause, Jun oofs, and despite it all, Wonwoo can’t help but grin, even if the pull of his mouth still hurts a little.

“I know, our history is pretty loaded. He only started using his English name when he enrolled into college, I don’t know why, though.“

Jun huffs. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe he wanted a clean slate after high school, too, and found a simpler way than setting off to Japan.“ Wonwoo laughs a bit at that and shakes his head, trying to chase away the cold that is piercing through his layers of clothes.

“I don’t know, maybe. He did say he had problems in school, too, after I was gone already, but he seems to be over it. We’re both fine now, I guess.“

With a laugh about the vagueness, Jun starts walking back to the apartment, waving at his friend to come with him.

“Get moving, I’m gonna freeze my balls off. I’m gonna make you coffee and then you’ll be allowed to shut up about your lovey-dovey feelings for Vernon forever, if you wish to.“ When they finally set foot back into the building, not quite warm yet but definitely not as despicably cold as it is outside, he swings an arm over Wonwoo’s shoulder and smiles at the younger.

“I’m glad you talked to me about it, Wonwoo. Thanks for trusting me with it.“

With a chortle, Wonwoo jabs his elbow into Junhui’s side. “Not like you were nearly beating the truth out of me or anything,“ he retorts, but he wraps an arm around his friend’s waist as they trudge up the stairs nonetheless, thankful for his friend. He thinks about the last thing he’d said, about Vernon having healed from whatever had damaged him when he was younger, and Wonwoo realises that they did that together - the healing. He cringes inwardly at the thought, but maybe, as cheesy and heartwarming as it sounds, love is a good medicine against ailments of the heart. Next to him, Jun is chattering his teeth, as if cringing at Wonwoo’s thought, and he himself feels the cold still numbing his hands and legs, but for a split second, he doesn’t care. When they get back into the apartment where they find Jihoon and Soonyoung asleep against the couch and Jun coos “aaaw, our little kittens“ with his phone whipped out immediately, Wonwoo is, first and foremost, warm from the inside, because he knows, in the end, and even in the beginning, he is not alone.

*

The conversation with Jun sticks to Wonwoo like a lipstick mark on his neck. No matter how hard he tries to erase it, remnants of it remain, and Wonwoo is left thinking about the way Vernon apparently looks at him. In the process, Wonwoo thinks a lot about how he looks at Vernon himself, and what resurfaces are memories of Vernon on stage, Vernon when he’d stretched in his bedroom, Vernon shirtless with deep red lips, raising his arms for Wonwoo to stick hot patches on his body. It’s nearly incriminating, the thoughts Wonwoo has, at night when he’s alone in bed, and even worse when it’s the middle of the day and he should be listening to his professors.

What Wonwoo remembers too, as he trudges over to Jihoon’s studio while Mingyu shows him some of the pictures he’s developed the other day, is how he’d told Jun about how he was afraid to lose Vernon again, in any way, but when Mingyu excitedly shows him a picture of Vernon and Seokmin standing bedazzled in a Christmas shop, their faces multicoloured in the fairy lights, Wonwoo realises that that’s not possible. As the two of them talk about Mingyu’s exaggerated amount of projects (that’s what you get for triple majoring in the arts sector), they take the long way around the quad, avoiding the February mud.

Jihoon’s studio is warm when Wonwoo opens the door, the lights, as per usual, off, and Jihoon, Seungkwan and Vernon are all bathed in the pink and purple light of Jihoon’s LED strips. The three are animatedly talking about the track they met for, even as Seungkwan is already putting on a gigantic puffy coat, and Wonwoo quickly pulls out his disposable camera and snaps a picture of the three, Seungkwan the only one to look into the camera while Vernon and Jihoon are seen in profile. At the sound of the shutter, the other two turn around as well, finally interrupting their chatter, and Mingyu waves behind Wonwoo.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Seungkwan has a bookstore date with my sister,“ he says with a grin, which has Seungkwan swat at him.

“I swear to god, if you don’t learn how to word your sentences better. I am not coming onto an eighteen year-old, I am helping her pick out a present,“ he explains to the rest of the room, which has Vernon grin widely. Seeing how Jihoon hasn’t joined in to make fun of Mingyu yet, Wonwoo walks over to his desk and deposits a plastic bag before him.

“Your lunch, Jihoon,“ he says, and Mingyu cackles on his way out as the producer unveils a tub of plain white rice. Vernon waves him and Seungkwan goodbye, shaking his head as their squabbling is audible when the door closes, and finally turns back to Wonwoo.

“How are the cats?“ he asks, and Wonwoo laughs.

“Alive! I left them in Minghao’s care, in the end, so I could spend Seollal with my parents.“

Vernon’s face lights up at the mention of Wonwoo’s family.

“Right, my sister saw you! I haven’t been back home in ages, I should pay a visit at some point.“

“Why didn’t you?“ Jihoon asks, muffled by his mouthful of rice, and Vernon shrugs.

“We had our performance, so I just had a big call with the grandparents and all that. They made me promise to come back next year, though, so I guess you’ll have to drive me then, hyung.“ The last part is directed at Wonwoo, who grins at the thought of eight hours in a car. He definitely takes either the bus or the train to go home. But speaking of driving -

“You ready to go?“ Wonwoo asks. “I’ve got to head to the dean’s place to meet his attorney so we can kick out the General Studies professor, your place is on the way.“

Vernon can’t reply right away, interrupted by Jihoon’s amused “get his ass“, but turns to grab his jacket and backpack.

“All done,“ he replies. Jihoon waves at them with his chopsticks, ignoring Wonwoo as he calls “Go home soon please“, and the door falls shut behind them, leaving them blinded in the adequately lighted hallway.

“I’ll never get used to hyung’s interior design choices,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo laughs as he leads the way to his car. 

The car warms up quickly, luckily, and Vernon slots his backpack between his feet as he asks about the procedure of firing one of the history department’s most prominent professors. It takes a while for Wonwoo to explain, because he’d just been the one to hand in a complaint after seeing how his first-year students were being bullied by the guy, especially the female ones, but now he has to stand in as a witness while the university is trying to send the man into early retirement without letting anyone get wind of the whole affair.

“So it’s all getting swept under the academic rug,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo laughs.

“Yeah, I’m not happy with that either. If it was my job, I’d just fire him and shun him publicly, but we can’t have that in our unproblematic and unblemished school.“ Vernon grins at his words, and Wonwoo looks at him, a colourful contrast against the greys and browns of the city. He’s not wearing a beanie for once, so his hair is hanging freely over his forehead, framing his smile prettily. As Vernon moves to look at the CD case of what’s playing at the moment, Wonwoo rips his eyes away, taking a turn to bring Vernon home, and takes a big inhale. He thinks back on Jun’s words, “I don’t think he’d leave,“ and he smiles to himself.

“I burned that CD myself, there’s no song names on it,“ he explains to Vernon, finally halting the car in front of his building.

“I mean, I can’t read any Japanese anyway, so it’s not a big loss.“ Wonwoo laughs at that, turning to look at Vernon. He’s not moving to get out of the car, looking at the stereo with pursed lips instead as the song plays on.

“It’s Thee Michelle Gun Elephant,“ Wonwoo says, immobile in his seat, hands gathered in his lap. “These are live recordings.“ Vernon nods with an impressed face, and Wonwoo only barely suppresses his laugh at how juvenile he looks, leaning towards the middle console and looking at the stickers Soonyoung put around the handbrake years ago instead of getting out of the car, and he can’t help the fondness spreading through his chest.

There’s a sudden desire clawing at Wonwoo’s insides, it’s wild and loud and threatens to burst out as he silently looks at his friend, and he thinks about letting it run free, spurred on as DANNY GO shouts out of his speakers. He thinks about how the two of them are together, right now, in this pocket of space that transcends time, and realises that their youths have collided together. In the darks of their pasts, they were able to find spots of light, each other, and it healed them, and he wants to taste it, that trust and the freedom that came with it, wants to taste it on his tongue.

“Hansol.“

The younger whips his head up as Wonwoo says his name, this term of the past, eyes wide and full of wonder. Wonwoo must have leaned towards him unconsciously, because all of a sudden, they are so close, so close that Vernon’s eyes have to jump between his own, so close that it’s unmissable when his eyes shift to Wonwoo’s mouth. Wonwoo looks at his mouth as well, wonders what he might want to say, and he notices that their breaths are mingling, hot all of a sudden, but Vernon still has not moved. But it doesn’t hurt. Not when Vernon looks at him with so many hopes and questions in his eyes.

Wonwoo tilts his face away and leans back into his seat. His lips feel parched, and he fights the urge to clear his throat when he looks back to his friend, whose body is still tilted towards Wonwoo, still staring at him.

“Tell Seokmin hi,“ Wonwoo says with a smile, and Vernon looks shaken awake at the words.

“Yeah, sure,“ he says, grabbing his backpack, hand on the door handle. “Thank you, hyung,“ he adds before stepping out, and Wonwoo exhales, long and deep.

“Thank you, too.“

Chapter Text

“Hansol.“

Breathe in. Breathe out. In his lap, his hands feel hot holding on to the heat the syllables emitted. His eyes cast down, down to the expanse that is Wonwoo’s mouth around his name, open, crooked with some helpless honesty, and in that moment it is so easy to lean over the console and kiss him, isolated from any worries in his stuffy car. It’s light and fluttery for a second, because against his mouth, Wonwoo tastes like safety, and when Vernon starts to move, so does he, presses forwards with intention and promises, and it’s all Vernon can do to just hold on, hands still gripping his seat.

He feels like he’s falling. Maybe he has already landed.

With a gasp and heated cheeks, Vernon comes up for air, hot vision blurry for a second. Next to him, his alarm is blaring. It’s five a.m. on a Wednesday and he just dreamt of making out with his childhood friend. He sits up in bed, turning off the alarm, and frowns. At his big age? Really? “Didn’t think I was that sexually frustrated,“ Vernon grumbles, moving to his yoga mat to do his morning stretches, but as he says that, he feels there is something more there, something he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s when he’s in the downward dog position, one leg stretched up behind him, that he realises that this wasn’t a wet dream. And that, in actuality, this had felt like a wish.

Vernon loses balance, nearly toppling over, and he hits his foot against the wall. What, he thinks, and incredulous, he huffs. The blood is rushing into his head, so he changes position, sitting on his haunches instead, arms stretched out in front of him, and the thought repeats in his head over and over again. 

It was a wish.

What would Vernon wish for? He thinks of the actual event, when Wonwoo had called him by a name that he had shed nearly five years ago when he’d wanted to leave all of high school behind, and he remembers Wonwoo’s face when he’d called him, an invitation to a place where the past isn’t all that bad, beautiful and the most secure thing Vernon has ever known in his life. He’d looked like pure light then, with his hair falling messily over his forehead and his cheeks faintly coloured by the flush of the warm car, and he’d looked like an offer that Vernon wanted to take, and so beautiful and safe-

Oh.

For a few seconds, as he rolls his body upwards, Vernon turns off his brain. As soon as he’s sitting straight, though, it all comes crashing in.

OH.

He likes Wonwoo.

At a loss for words, Vernon guffaws. He then clamps his mouth shut because that was actually pretty loud, and he doesn’t want to wake Seokmin who has no idea of the epiphany coming down on the dancer. That’s… ridiculous. Even for him. And yet somehow, Vernon has missed that for the past few weeks - hell, maybe even longer - he’s been falling in love with Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. His childhood friend who suddenly fills out his obscure oversized band shirts and who grew wholly comfortable with himself. His friend who he co-parents three cats with. The same friend who has a rat tattooed on his shoulder. His friend who had nearly kissed him the evening before.

His second alarm goes off, startling Vernon into moving again so he doesn’t waste any more time and arrives tardy to his training. As he gets dressed, he lets the song play out and snorts at the lyrics.

“Yeah dude. What the fuck,“ he mumbles, finally grabbing his phone. He is on time, but he feels like he’ll need a little while more to come to terms with this early morning realisation.

He’s got a crush on Jeon Wonwoo.

*

Realising and coming to terms with the fact that he is, apparently, in love, comes easy to Vernon, but that’s because he’s a relatively easy person. As he kneels behind Seungyeon to spin her and nearly gets hit in the face by her outstretched leg, he laughs at the incident and unpromptedly thinks of the time Wonwoo tripped over one of the cats and had looked similarly apologetic to his partner now, and he thinks, oh that’s right, I’ve got a crush on him. Chan is boisterous that day and makes a lot of silly jokes that make all the hyungs and noonas double over in laughter, even earning a grin from Madame Seo, and Vernon muses that once Chan gets over his intimidation, he and Wonwoo would get along great, and Vernon thinks, oh that’s right, I’ve got a crush on him, and when the snow has piled up on the sidewalk that evening and the girls make him and some other guys do the Dance of the Little Swans in the snowfall and he sends the video Bora took to Wonwoo immediately, he think, oh that’s right, I’ve got a crush on him. And when Vernon receives Wonwoo’s reply while he’s standing in the bus, Poppy laughing at him over his headphones, he realises that he’s not thinking about him constantly because he realised he had a crush that very morning, he’s been thinking about Wonwoo this much for a while now.

“Oh damn,“ he utters behind his mask. He seems to be so much more dense than Seokmin keeps telling him he is. Meeting Wonwoo this often was something he could have excused as motivated by friendship, but Thinking About Him becoming an hourly routine shouldn’t have been glossed over as “we’re friends, of course I think about him all the time“. Vernon might be a little stupid.

When he’d started getting interested in Seungkwan (which had been, like, as soon as they met), he had noticed it from the start. He’d been attracted to him and Seungkwan was attracted right back, and the tension between them had been impossible to ignore, so how come it took him that long this time? Is Wonwoo’s quieter character the reason why Vernon’s feelings hadn’t come crashing in? As he trudges through the snow towards his apartment, he muses about the nature of his feelings. Maybe because it’s not a sexual attraction, like it had been with Seungkwan?

“Vernon!“ Seokmin calls as the dancer enters their hallway, shaking the melting snowflakes out of his jacket. His roommate joins him there with a slice of cake sitting on a plate.

“Why are you already eating cake?“ Vernon asks. “It’s not midnight yet.“

“Jihyo messed up the date,“ Seokmin explains, and then waves his fork in the air with a frown. “Not the point though! Can you believe that it’s our birthday tomorrow and none of us has a boyfriend or a girlfriend?? I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I need you to be my boyfriend for a day.“

Vernon huffs out a laugh as he carries himself to the bathroom. His shoulders feel a little stiff after pulling them up in the cold the whole day, so he gets his AM record and sets it up on the player in the bathroom.

“Can’t promise anything,“ he replies to his pouting friend with a grin as he turns on the tap.

“I’d like a boyfriend, tho…“ Seokmin’s voice gets quieter as he heads into the kitchen, no doubt getting one more slice of cake that will ruin his appetite for any dinner this evening. Vernon will just have a fresh salad from the 7-Eleven by himself then. As he sinks into the hot water, music and Alex Turner's deep rasp floating around him, he can’t help but think about the times when he’ll take a bath at Wonwoo’s place. He’s already missing the constant traffic of kittens that will run in and out of the bathroom and lift their little noses towards his outstretched hand after two minutes in his own bathtub. One time, Wonwoo had mindlessly walked in, following Napoleon Bonaparte, and looked up abashedly with his glasses fogged up immediately. Vernon had just grinned then, he hadn’t minded at that time and he probably still wouldn’t mind now, but now that he thinks about it, as he flicks his fingers through the water, he remembers how red Wonwoo’s ears had gotten beneath the silver of his studs. It makes him think of how often his friend blushes in general, especially since he’s cold all the time. That time when he’d ran out of his apartment in just a muscle tee had been extreme, and suddenly, Vernon distinctly remembers how Wonwoo had called him his boyfriend then, to fend off the men that wouldn’t leave him alone. At the thought, he sinks deeper into the tub, water now reaching his nose. He thinks of Wonwoo’s arms, the glint of his eyes, the pull of his mouth when he talks, the width of his chest when it’s not hidden by sweaters.

At the end of the day, Vernon still doesn’t have an answer why he took so long to recognise his feelings for Wonwoo. The attraction is definitely not just romantic.

*

“Vernon, go get the door!“

“Did someone ring?“

“Unless it was your music, I think so.“

Accompanied by laughter and Charli XCX’s Fembot over the bluetooth speakers that Vernon got from Joshua and his father, the dancer heads to the door. Dayoung, a friend of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s, is just coming out of the bathroom and does a little awkward move to not run into Vernon, and he returns the smile she shoots him as they press past each other in the way-too-small hallway to open the door.

Before it stands Wonwoo, dark hair adorned by snowflakes.

“Where’s your beanie?“ Vernon asks before his friend can even greet him, and Wonwoo laughs after a start.

“In the car. Happy birthday.“

Vernon grins as he steps aside, and Wonwoo grins back, not looking where he’s stepping.

“Oh, there’s a lot of shoes,“ he remarks.

“Seokmin has a lot of friends,“ Vernon replies. It’s a small gathering, and it’s also barely eight in the evening, so this isn’t meant to be a full on birthday party, but with two feet per visitor, the shoes have amassed themselves by their front door.

“Here,“ Wonwoo says as he’s finally taken off his outside clothes, handing Vernon a large, flat present that leaves no doubt to the contents. The packaging is simple, no big bows on the brown packing paper, just Vernon’s name in Wonwoo’s messy, very adult writing.

“Thanks, hyung,“ he replies. As he unwraps the gift, he listens to the friendly chatter coming from the living room, paired with a Taeyeon song that Seungkwan probably put on.

“You’ll have to give Seokmin a kiss on the cheek, by the way,“ Vernon says, nodding towards the other gift in Wonwoo’s hand. “It’s a tradition. One year, he wouldn’t talk to me until I remembered.“

Wonwoo laughs next to him. “Sounds like him.“ Before Vernon can reply, he adds: “What about you?“

“Huh?“

“You’re not..?“ Wonwoo points at his own cheek.

“Oh,“ Vernon says with a chuckle, “no, I’m not as much of a socialite. Would be weird if I demanded kisses from all the people here.“

Without pressing any further, Wonwoo just shrugs. “Alright.“ Vernon has finally unpacked the vinyl and makes to move out of the hallway back to the party. The name on the cover is something written in Cyrillic, with a tilted staircase-like building on the greyscale cover.

“Molchat Doma,“ Wonwoo explains. “I listened through a few records at the store and thought you might like this.“

Vernon smiles again. “I’ll listen to it tonight and tell you what I think,“ he says. “Thank you.“

Instead of replying, Wonwoo just gives him a grin and avoids colliding with Dayoung who’s still standing by the entrance of the living room braiding her bleached blonde hair to head towards the other birthday boy.

“Hyung!“ Mingyu calls, raising his beer bottle as Wonwoo approaches, one arm thrown over Seokmin’s shoulder. Vernon remains in the doorframe with his new record in his hands and observes as Wonwoo leans in to place a small kiss on a laughing Seokmin’s cheek, gently hitting Mingyu in the head with his present as he clearly gestures “and me?“ with a wide grin.

“He’s pretty,“ Dayoung says, eliciting nothing but a non-committal shrug from Vernon.

“Sure,“ he says while Seokmin unpacks an Animal Crossing art book, and Seungkwan appears next to Wonwoo, offering him a beer that the older refuses politely.

“Aw,“ she continues. “Well just so you know, I would have kissed you if you wanted.“

Vernon looks at her, surprised. She’s making a funny face, like she’s holding back a loud laugh, and he grins widely at that.

“Nah,“ he replies, short of a giggle. “I’m fine, thanks.“ Over by the couch, Wonwoo is laughing loudly, and when Vernon looks up, he sees his friend’s eyes already on him, crinkled and unmasked by his glasses.

Dayoung laughs. “I see. Happy birthday, Vernon. Have some of Jihyo’s second cake.“

In the sleeve of the vinyl, there’s a dozen of printed pictures of the cats. As Vernon listens to the record, a deep sound that treads between post-punk and modern dark wave that reverberates through his new cable headphones, he spreads out the pictures. It’s blurry shots of Napoleon as she chases behind a shoe lace, Kimchi-Jjigae in his favourite spot in the potted tree, The Earl’s little fangs all close up to the camera. The pictures make him grin, even if they might not be of the greatest quality. He guesses that they’re all taken with different cameras, since the colours and graininess of the shining prints vary, and he wonders how much time Wonwoo spends photographing the cats. It’s fun to see their growth in the pictures, too, as Vernon looks at the three babies in a sleeping pile. On the back, it says ‘first night at home’. It has something in Vernon’s chest clench.

Some of the pictures have him in it. One of them he knows he took himself, of Wonwoo’s face buried under an unbothered Earl Grey, but others he merely remembers the occasion to, like the day they put the colourful collars on the kittens, which they don’t even wear anymore, or when Vernon had tried to build the cat tree without disturbing Napoleon who had already claimed it as a napping spot before it had been finished. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a picture of Vernon, gently cradling Kimchi-Jjigae in his arms, his face half covered by the orange fur. There’s no description to this picture on the back, just the date, and Vernon gets why. Even though he’s the one pictured in the photograph, it feels too intimate, too personal for him to look at. It looks like it’s a secret that Wonwoo is revealing to him.

When the record has played through, Vernon lifts the needle of his player and heads to Seokmin’s room, knocking on the door once.

“Come in!“ his roommate calls, and Vernon pushes the door open. Seokmin’s room is a similar state of mess as his, and he’s currently sitting on his carpet, neatly folding his wrapping paper. On his little boom box that Vernon gifted him two years ago, he’s listening to this year’s birthday present from him, and he’s humming to the Honne song that’s currently on.

“Happy birthday, Bononie,“ he grins at his younger friend, and Vernon grins back.

“Happy birthday, hyung.“

“What brings you to my humble abode?“ Seokmin asks, spreading his arms so Vernon can see that he means all of his 14 square metre room with the fairy lights, the faded red bedspread on his twin bed, and the dusty Xbox. It’s cozy and just as homely as Seokmin himself, and Vernon feels safe here.

“You know, when I got together with Seungkwan,“ he begins, and Seokmin sits up straighter, masking his surprise by nodding sagely. “I never really talked to you about any of it, did I?“

Seokmin leans back against his bed, smiling up at Vernon. It’s something very gentle, and not quite the happy grin he’s used to.

“Yeah, you didn’t really,“ Seokmin says. There’s a hint of sadness in his tone, and Vernon feels dejected over his past failures as he crosses his arms before his chest protectively. “It’s fine though, I was in the middle of the two of you and would have been sitting between two chairs, honestly, and you seemed to have found a way to cope with it. I understand that it would have been kinda hard to openly talk about it to me.“

With a sigh, Vernon joins Seokmin on the floor among the heaps of crumpled and folded wrapping paper. Wonwoo’s stands out with how bland it is.

“I generally don’t really talk about feelings,“ he offers, making Seokmin chuckle, “but this time…“

Seokmin visibly perks up, busying his hands with the paper again. Vernon’s “this time“ hangs in the air as he grabs a sheet of the paper himself.

“I- there’s someone?“ he attempts, unsure how to begin. Across from him, Seokmin leans forward, expectant.

“Do I know them?“ he asks.

Tentatively, Vernon looks back up at Seokmin, only to find him smiling encouragingly at him. It might be new to talk to him about feelings of the romantic kind and to not be the listener for once, but Vernon feels that he only has something to win by sharing his thoughts with his friend. So, he breathes in deeply.

“I’ve got feelings for Wonwoo hyung,“ it finally escapes from him, a revelation that flies into the world as soon as he’s said it out loud. Somehow, it becomes even truer like this.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide as he clasps a hand over his mouth. Vernon discerns a happy glint in them.

“Vernon!“ Seokmin exclaims, giddy. Then, he calms down, though still unable to school his expression back to something neutral. After he flattens the wrapping paper he’s just finished folding, he giggles. “I can see it,“ he simply says, and Vernon snorts.

“What is there to see?“ he asks, and his best friend excitedly leans forward.

“Your feelings, buddy. They’re very valid, and I’m happy you told me.“ He wiggles around where he’s sitting until his knees are bumping against Vernon’s thigh.

“Do you want me to help get the boy, then?“

Vernon shakes his head. “No. I just wanted to tell you.“

Seokmin shrugs, pouting in faux disappointment. His eyes are still crinkled up gleefully, though, betraying his satisfaction. He’s content being in on the secret, and respects Vernon’s boundaries and decisions. Vernon is thankful for that.

“But you do want to get the boy, right?“

It’s Vernon’s time to shrug now, and he leans back against Seokmin’s chest of drawers that is crammed directly next to the door.

“I’ll see about that.“

*

To be honest, Vernon has no intentions to pursue anything more than friendship with Wonwoo. What they have now, it’s comfortable. It’s nice. Vernon enjoys it fully. He’s always been a more laid back lover in the past and not dating Wonwoo doesn’t hurt him or fills him with melancholy yearning. That’s more Seokmin style.

No, Vernon thinks that what they have is enough. Nothing changes, really. He still sees Wonwoo pretty often, still goes grocery shopping to get cat food with him, still meets him on campus sometimes, still hangs out with him and his friends. It’s not like Vernon is very expressive of his feelings and does or says things that could betray his emotions. That’s more Seungkwan style.

Vernon’s style is just existing in Wonwoo’s life and being completely at ease there.

“’Sup,“ Vernon greets as Wonwoo enters Jihoon’s apartment. His friend startles as he registers him, looking at him wide eyed.

“Huh. Hi,“ he says, quickly recollecting himself and grinning crookedly at Vernon. He’s bowing down to unlace his boots, the cleavage of his shirt falling free. Vernon lifts his eyebrows approvingly.

“Excuse my language,“ Jihoon says as he closes his front door, “but couldn’t you cover up a little? Slut.“

“Aish, Jihoonie,“ Wonwoo replies with a grin, pinching Jihoon’s calf, which elicits a high pitched yelp from the younger. He’s wearing his leather jacket with the battered fur collar over the loose fitting shirt, which conveniently seems to be missing the top four buttons. It’s messily tucked into his usual frayed black jeans, the holes and seams adorned with safety pins. “For your information, this is Mingyu’s shirt. He spilled his weird work-out smoothie on me and this was the only shirt he could give me.“

“Aren’t you freezing?“ Vernon asks. Wonwoo turns to him, grin wide on his face.

“I am, actually! On the verge of hypothermia!“

Vernon giggles from his seat on one of Jihoon’s mismatched creaking kitchen chairs and turns back to the sheet music in front of him. He’d asked Jihoon to teach him the basics of reading it, and the older had somehow not stepped onto campus for the last three days so he’d gotten his first invite to the producing major’s apartment. His host is now scoffing, hitting Wonwoo flat on his bare chest and ignoring the taller’s pained exclamation.

“You just wanted to show off your tattoos, show-off. Get a sweater from Soonyoung or die, I couldn’t care less.“

“Soonyoung hyung is here?“ Vernon asks with a frown. He didn’t hear from him even once, which is sort of concerning. Soonyoung usually never strays far from company, even less shuts it off. 

“Sulking about something in his room,“ Jihoon shrugs, looking at the dollar store plastic clock hung on the wall above the kitchen table. “I gotta go to that sunbae dinner now, you guys hit it off however you like. Don’t touch my mom’s jjajangmyeong in the fridge.“ Wonwoo tries to grab him by the arm, slight displeasure creasing his brow, but Jihoon shakes him off with a closed off nod.

“Hold on,“ Wonwoo begins, “I didn’t get to-“

“Vernon, you are allowed to try and play on my keyboard if you want. Everyone else: stay clear.“

And with that, Jihoon is out.

Wonwoo looks at Vernon, eyes wide with surprise.

“I guess I’m his favourite,“ Vernon says with a nonchalant shrug, causing one syllable of laughter to burst out of Wonwoo, who trudges towards the door of the spare-room-turned-Soonyoung’s-bedroom. He points his thumb at it, his rings blinking, and makes a questioning face at Vernon. Vernon looks at the music sheet one last time. It’s Ravel’s Bolero, which he’s currently working on at the ballet studio, and which Jihoon very helpfully played on the clarinet for him. It’s a pretty long winded piece.

Vernon gets up and joins Wonwoo at Soonyoung’s door and knocks. There’s no reply for a good moment, so Wonwoo knocks again, calling out for Soonyoung quietly. This time, the door opens a tad, and their friend peers up at them, strangely slouched and with his headphones slung around his neck. At first, no one says anything, until Soonyoung glances past Vernon and Wonwoo and says “Is he gone?“

Wonwoo groans loudly, and Vernon looks at the floor to hide his badly suppressed grin.

“Not you too,“ Wonwoo huffs, pushing the door open to enter a sputtering Soonyoung’s room. Vernon lifts his hand in greeting as Soonyoung pouts angrily at his taller friend, standing at his full height now.

“You’re trespassing!“ he says, and Wonwoo replies: “And you’re nearly as emotionally constipated as your emotionally stomach-stoned roommate. I’m taking a sweater from you.“

At the admittedly very creative but still kind of disgusting metaphor, Vernon makes a face. “Nice room,“ he tells Soonyoung nonetheless. Its former function as a storage room is still sort of visible, with a deconstructed drum set standing in one corner of the room, next to it two wooden sword-like sticks that Vernon assumes are for some sport. But in the two months that Soonyoung has now lived in this room, he’s still managed to make it unmistakably his own. There’s a huge poster of a pouncing tiger, for one, hung over the bed like a rich man’s billion won painting over the fireplace, and a lot of band shirts and concert tickets pinned messily to the walls. The floor is also covered with a gigantic tiger striped rug which really sets an ambiance, except at the wooden desk that is meticulously spotless with a neat pile of books on sociology and education.

“Hi, Vernon,“ Soonyoung replies, sniffling a little for dramatics. “Can I trust you with my woes?“

“Minghao’s poetry books are really doing a number on you, huh,“ Wonwoo says, sniffing a sweatshirt where he’s stood at the dresser, and apparently deeming it safe to wear.

“Leave me alone!“ Soonyoung whines. “I’ve got serious problems right now. My only friends are the wild tigers that live only to hunt and eat. No feelings involved.“

“Oh wow,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo sighs.

“Come here, I’ll let you look,“ he tells Soonyoung. “I’ve got an appointment to add more scenery next week, so commit the raw piece to memory.“

All of a sudden, Soonyoung is grinning wildly, putting down his headphones and bounding to his friend who is currently taking off Mingyu’s shirt. “Come look, Vernon,“ he says, and grabs Wonwoo by his big upper arms to turn his back to them. He points at a tattoo that reaches from his front down onto the shoulder blades.

“I mean, can I?“ Vernon asks, and he sees Wonwoo’s shoulders move with his exhaled laughter.

“Sure,“ Wonwoo replies. “I didn’t get them to keep them hidden.“

“Yes, you have fantasies about your future lover tracing the lines of your markings one day.“ Soonyoung says it with such a drawl that Vernon can’t help laughing out loud, and he can see Wonwoo burying his face in his hands as he laughs, too, ears red once again. “Anyways, look!“ Taken by the hand, Vernon finally gets a proper look at the tattoo his friends are talking about. “That’s us!“

On Wonwoo’s upper back, three tigers, sleek in a traditional ink painting style and faintly filled in with orange, bound freely over his muscles, chasing each other, or maybe just whatever you chase when you’re free. They’re pretty, muscular and feral, and they move when Wonwoo folds Mingyu’s shirt clumsily.

“They’re great,“ Vernon says in response to Soonyoung, but his eyes are trained on the way Wonwoo’s cheeks slightly lift as he says it. In his chest ignites the feral desire to place his finger on the whisker of the lowest tiger and let it follow the lines of the felines until he reaches the last striped tail.

He buries his hands deeper into his pant pockets.

“That’s Wonwoo,“ Soonyoung says, pointing at the tiger highest on his shoulder, “and that’s me,“ the tiger that leads the three. Vernon hums, nodding.

“And that,“ Soonyoung continues, jabbing at Wonwoo’s shoulder, “is Jihoon.“

His hand gets swallowed by the fabric of the sweater going down, and Wonwoo turns around.

“Alright,“ he says. “You’re telling me why you two are crashing heads again now.“

The groan that Soonyoung lets out is existential. In a dramatic motion, he flops onto his bed and buries his face in the blanket with a whine.

“He’s weird! Why do I have a crush on a weird guy!“

Wonwoo looks at Vernon apologetically like this is a common inconvenience, but Vernon opens his mouth into a surprised little o.

“Oh so it’s mutual?“

In a dizzying motion, Soonyoung turns around to stare at him, mouth agape. Wonwoo is raising his hands as if to wave off the comment, and Vernon gets the feeling that he’s said a little too much.

“No Soonyoung, look-“ Wonwoo starts, but he gets interrupted.

“What is mutual?“

Next to him, Wonwoo is shooting Vernon near murderous looks, trying to stop him from saying anything more. He’s not being very subtle though, so Soonyoung quickly intercepts the meaning of this stare-down.

“Wonwoo,“ he exclaims, pointing at him accusingly. The scene has a silliness to it, with Soonyoung’s expression of utter shock and the terror of conflict etched into Wonwoo’s face, and Vernon has to hold back his laughter. Wonwoo looks, for the lack of a better expression, tired of this shit.

“You have a crush on Jihoon and Jihoon has a crush on you. There. You guys have been annoying me about this for over a year and I hoped living together would lead to you guys accidentally confessing in the comfort of domesticity but you only made it worse and I don’t want to deal with it any longer.“

At Soonyoung’s slowly retreating figure, Vernon can’t help to laugh out loud, only briefly though, because Soonyoung looks at him with desperate eyes.

“How did you know?“ he asks him, and Vernon shrugs.

“Honestly I thought everyone knew. Jihoon hyung isn’t very subtle about it, so I’m surprised you didn’t know.“

“I’m surprised you didn’t know about Soonyoung’s infatuation,“ Wonwoo mumbles with an exasperated frown, making Vernon grin. On his bed, Soonyoung looks like a dark little pile of pity, eyes flitting from Wonwoo to Vernon.

“I didn’t even know he was gay!“

Wonwoo guffaws at that, incredulous.

“Soonyoung, you were the one that outed him!“

“But he was so mad at me! I thought he was mad because it wasn’t true and he’s not gay!“

On the sidelines, Vernon decides to step back a little as his friends talk about things he has no knowledge of. He sits down onto Soonyoung’s desk chair as its owner currently begins burying himself under his blanket, his orange socks peeking out pitifully from under them, cowering from Wonwoo’s berating.

“He was mad at you because you outed him, Soonyoung! First of all that’s a shit thing to do, and then he felt like you treated the whole thing like a joke, of course he’d be mad at you!“

“What wasn’t a joke?“

“Wh- oh my god.“ Wonwoo drags a hand over his face, obviously annoyed. “He kissed you and told you he really liked you. Jihoon was probably on the verge of shitting his pants that night, of course that wasn’t a joke.“

From his blanket fort, the visible part of Soonyoung’s forehead blanches. “He was shitting his pants?“ he whispers. With a groan, Wonwoo sits down on the bed, resolutely staring at Vernon and ignoring his friend freaking out.

“They’re dense,“ he says, and Vernon can only nod approvingly. He’s not one to judge, because he’s come to realise that he’s not much better, but it does seem like a painful ordeal for Wonwoo. Also, Vernon did not go as far as to get confessed to and fully missing the honesty behind it.

“Why are you so weird around each other if you like each other then though?“ Vernon asks. Approvingly, Soonyoung points at him.

“See,“ he says “he’s weird. I’m maybe a little insensitive, but I don’t act like I can’t stand his guts and then proceed to play Waterparks as soon as he enters the apartment.“

At a loss, Wonwoo blinks at him. He’s begun dragging the sleeves of Soonyoung’s sweater over his fingers, fidgeting with his rings inside the sweater paws.

“Waterparks is your favourite band though, so that’s good, right?“

Soonyoung sheds his blanket, heated from the conversation. “He’s never listened to good music before! So why is he starting now? And it’s just the love songs, you know? Why is he playing my favourite band’s love songs every time I enter the room?“

On the bed, Wonwoo is burying his face in his hands again. “God, this is the worst flirting technique I’ve ever witnessed.“

“Um, I don’t want to intrude or anything,“ Vernon chimes in, gaining both men’s undivided attention again, “I think it’s my fault. He told me he needed help conveying his feelings for a specific person in lyrics and I said it could help if he looked at that person’s favourite artists to see how they convey feelings with their lyrics. You know, as inspiration.“

There is utter disbelief displayed on Wonwoo’s expression as he realises that Vernon has been meddling with his friends’ love lives and causing him problems, and once again, the dancer has the near insurmountable need to laugh, or at least giggle. He settles with a grin.

“To be fair, I didn’t think he’d do it in front of you.“

“GOD!“ Soonyoung shouts, falling backwards onto his bed. “He’s so stupid! He’s so weird! Why do I like a stupid weird guy! Why does he have to listen to Stupid for you on loop and ruin the song with his disturbing methods!“

Wonwoo finally laughs again, tension released as Soonyoung seems to have come to accept the latest developments in his life.

“At least it’s a good song,“ he says, patting his friend on the head. Vernon hums from his seat by the desk.

“Yeah, it’s been in my repeat playlist these days. I like it.“

Soonyoung’s whines get muffled when Wonwoo puts his hand over his face, and he grins at Vernon.

“What, are you in love too? Following in Jihoon’s footsteps of confessing in the stupidest way ever?“

As Soonyoung’s laments get louder and more plaintive, Vernon can only stare at Wonwoo. The ironic grin comes a moment late, and the motionlessness of his surprise at the little joke only gets highlighted as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks to the side. Wonwoo’s eyes widen momentarily as Vernon laughs it off, and he looks like he’s about to say something to him when his hand gets flung away from Soonyoung’s face.

“Ugh!“ he exclaims. “Get out, I’ve got to THINK.“ With a confusion of blankets and limbs, Wonwoo gets pushed off the bed, and Vernon gets out of the chair to follow him out of the room.

“Bye, hyung,“ he says, and Soonyoung glowers at him, his roundly shaved eyebrows bunching non threateningly over his eyes.

“You know, Vernon, I love you, but never talk to Jihoon about me again. He doesn’t deserve it.“ With that, the door closes in front of his nose.

“Oh man,“ Wonwoo sighs. As Vernon follows him back into the kitchen, picking up his phone that he left there, he opens the fridge, rummaging through the tupperware and ignoring the three bottles of coke stacked over each other. “It’s hard being the most talkative rational person in this friend group. Minghao gives passable advice, but he just decides not to, and Jun would have too much fun sabotaging them, honestly.“ Vernon grins, because that’s exactly how he imagines the two to react to their friends’ cries for help. He hasn’t known them for long, but he knows them well enough to know that they are an amusing sort of dangerous.

In front of the closed fridge door, Wonwoo stills for a little, his broad back still turned towards Vernon. With how he’s standing, one hand resting on the handle, a tub of japchae cradled against his chest, Vernon can tell he’s thinking, pondering, the short hair on the nape of his neck raised against the collar of Soonyoung’s sweater. Vernon’s reaction to his joke earlier still hangs in the air, and it doesn’t help that the Waterparks song in question is now quietly finding its way into the kitchen before getting skipped in favour of an angrier song. The clock ticks loudly as they stand there, Vernon mindlessly leafing through the music sheets on the table, waiting, for Wonwoo to turn.

When he does, he pulls his shoulders back first, and his eyes are determined and unwavering.

“Listen, Vernon,“ he starts, only to get interrupted by Vernon’s phone vibrating in his hand.

“Um,“ Vernon says, looking down at a reminder from Seokmin to not forget cleaning day. “Duty calls?“

Slightly sombre, but that could also be the weak light of Jihoon’s kitchen and Wonwoo’s makeup, his friend nods.

“I’ll let you go, then,“ he says.

And so, skittish from the intimate knowledge of what Wonwoo wanted to say, perturbed by the implications of his own actions, Vernon does just that. He goes.

*

Vernon is dense. Vernon is also stupid. In the course of the last week, he has gathered as much. However, it doesn’t go over his head that there is a very high chance of his feelings being reciprocated.

On the last day of February, a Monday that Vernon spends the entirety of spinning on his own axis in the studio, his head is filled with little excerpts of conversations, shared looks, a special attentiveness to any of Vernon’s needs, a loud laugh when the joke really wasn't that funny, just because Vernon told it. As Jeonghan and him try to compete over whose barrel jumps get the closest to Chan’s jumping height, Vernon flies realising that even before he had started harnessing any emotion, Wonwoo has been devoted to him like his sentiments were a garden, and talking to Vernon made it bloom. Ravel paints a picture of budding spring and freed spirits with the sound of his orchestra’s instruments, and it ignites something in Vernon, something that fuels him and smells like the hyacinths in his childhood home’s kitchen windows in April.

He jumps the highest.

“God, what a session,“ Jeonghan says, standing immobile in front of the mirror.

“Stretch out, hyung, you’re gonna get bad ankles if you freeze up here.“

Jeonghan clicks his tongue disdainfully and grabs his towel to flip it at Vernon. He misses him completely, which was to be expected, but Chan still recoils, afraid to get targeted next. “I did well enough, didn’t I? I jumped high, I spun far, and I didn’t slam my knee onto the parquet when I did my landing, unlike a certain someone else.“

The certain someone else had basically been every male dancer today, but it is clear that Jeonghan wants to hold something over Vernon’s and Chan’s head specifically. Chan grumbles that he will train at home, which Vernon knows he would do if his roommates hadn’t established a no-dance-zone in all of the house after they’d gotten complaints from their downstairs neighbours, and Vernon himself just shrugs and stretches his feet, pulling the tips towards himself as he leans over his leg in a split.

“I’m curious how Madame is going to choreograph the second movement,“ he says, and Jeonghan smiles a little more benevolently now, mirroring Vernon’s pose.

“Oh, we’re working on it. Choreographing is fun, you’re gonna like what we’re making for you. It’s very youthful.“

“Is it a story?“ Chan asks, joining them. So far, the choreography for the Ravel piece is more of an exposition, a slow enterprise of showcasing the dancers’ abilities in a graceful, nearly careful manner. If it’s supposed to be a narrative piece, there is not much of it to recognise yet.

Jeonghan hums. “I think so. Like, yes, it is, there’s going to be a main role, but their story isn’t fully realised yet. I’m sure I’ll have more tomorrow.“

Amused at Jeonghan’s intentional vagueness, Vernon leans to the other side, curving his arm perfectly over his head. His stomach grumbles a little, it always does on Monday evenings, and he hopes to return home without any bumps. The day has been calm, so far. He hasn’t looked at his phone yet, but with the month ending, so does his friends’ semester, and he is bound to find messages from Jihoon and some in the group chat where they will no doubt cheer on the end of their studies, in addition to Wonwoo’s daily cat-update. To be honest, the cat update comes at least twice a day, but Vernon isn’t one to complain. All the more to look forward to at the end of his strenuous day at work.

“Check your instep, Channie.“

“I am not a pointe dancer, hyung, let me walk on my soles.“

“Aaaw, why not? Don’t you want to be a babygirl to your loving hyung?“

“Ew,“ Vernon exclaims, unable to school a neutral expression, and Chan similarly reflects his disgust.

“What was that?“ he all but shrieks. Madame Seo is still talking to Seulgi and Bora, but it won’t be long until she’ll start looking for her assistent trainer to review the session. As affronted as Chan is, he still tries not to end Jeonghan’s career by visibly gagging at his words. Vernon also has to concise his reaction to a highly disturbed grimace.

“Hyung, that was… awful.“

“I’m gonna tell Seungcheol hyung. Good luck trying to boyfriend him,“ Chan aggressively whispers as he slowly sinks into a split. The slight squeaking of his slippers completely eradicates any threatening intention behind his words, and Vernon quickly lays his upper body on his legs to hide his grin.

“Hm, well,“ Jeonghan replies, a perfect drawl of nonchalance. “Good thing he’s much more mature than you are then, because his response to me asking was very positive. And to when I called him babygirl.“

For a moment, no one talks. It’s Vernon that breaks the silence when he slowly sits up again and looks at Jeonghan who is stretching his thighs in a kneeling position and looks incredibly smug.

“Um, congrats, hyung, but I really did not want to know that, actually.“ 

Chan flops onto his side.

“This is simultaneously the best news and the worst news of my life. I want to go home right this instant and forget every notion of human language.“

Jeonghan switches his leg, maniacally cackling as he surveys his friends’ despair.

“I’m not hearing enough congratulations, but I will forgive your state of delighted shock,“ he says, turning up his nose with entitled pride.

“So he’s your boyfriend now?“ Carefully so as not to pull anything, Vernon stands up, pointing his feet one last time before he’ll head to the changing room. Jeonghan follows suit, ignoring Chan who’s still splayed on the ground.

“I asked him on Saturday after our gym session. He picked me up and he’d brought me a salad from this place that I really like so I could eat in the car and… I don’t know. He’s always taken care of me like that but this time I just had to ask.“

Vernon nods. “I’m glad you guys worked it all out, in the end,“ he says, thinking of Jeonghan’s laments during the last month.

When Jeonghan sighs, it’s happy, blissful. It makes Vernon smile.

“I think it’s because he always took care of me like that that I didn’t feel the need to ask him out properly. We’ve been so… domestic for so long that I sort of thought we were on the same page. It was humiliating when he said no, but I guess I really brought it upon myself.“

“Wow, how self-aware of you, hyung,“ Chan pipes in, finally having picked himself up. Jeonghan is about to shove him for the comment, but Madame Seo saves the younger dancer when she calls her assistant over.

“Alright,“ Jeonghan sighs. “I’ll leave you to it. Be good boys!“ With that, he skips across the room, throwing in a jeté on his way to their instructor who shakes her head in amusement.

“I’m happy for hyung,“ Chan says as the two pull their sweatpants over their tights. It’s still cold outside, but at least it’s neither snowing nor raining for once. Vernon will finally be able to take his bike to work again in a few days. 

“I think they look good together,“ his friend continues. “They make a nice contrast, you know - Seungcheol is kinda gruff and buff and Jeonghan hyung is more delicate, and their personalities are reversed but still fit well. I hope hyung gets to propose again.“

“You’re funny,“ Vernon says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?“

“Well, yeah,“ Chan replies with an eye roll, “this was all Jeonghan hyung talked about for a month after all.“

Unable to contradict that statement, Vernon laughs quietly, holding open the door for Chan to follow him outside. “So, you’re saying that opposites attract?“

With a self important smirk, Chan steps onto the sidewalk, pointing a finger at the sky like a lecturing professor that exclusively wears tweed. “Obviously not in the long run, that’s not how you maintain a stable relationship, but I really think that aesthetically, that’s how you create the spark of interest and an initial attraction.“

Vernon doesn’t even try to conceal his grin at Chan’s explanation. He’s pretty sure that his friend knows how ridiculous his philosophising can seem, but despite any teasing he’s gotten from it, especially from Jeonghan, the youngest dancer unapologetically sticks to this little quirk of his. Vernon thinks it’s entertaining in the best way, especially since Chan actually makes really good points and doesn’t add to the countless cases of mansplainers. He just talks like an old man sometimes.

“You and Wonwoo ssi would also adhere to the opposites attract trope if you looked like the typical ballet dancer,“ Chan continues, pulling Vernon out of his contemplations.

“What is that supposed to mean,“ Vernon chuckles, hiking the straps of his backpack higher. His bus is meant to arrive in three more minutes, and Chan is hopping on the spot a little to not let the cold get to him.

“Not to enforce any stereotypes, but if you were a girl, you two would have to be a couple. He’s your billboard bad-boy, looks wise. Isn’t that even a song?“ Vernon’s bus appears at the end of the street, headlights blinking.

“It’s kinda old, but you definitely know it. There’s a skating guy in it too.“

Snorting, Vernon pats Chan on the shoulder before entering the bus. “I know the song, don’t worry. See you Wednesday, Chan,“ he says. Through the window, he sees his friend wave at him before he goes to check his phone. With a grin, Vernon pulls out his own. For irony’s sake, he shuffles the latest Avril Lavigne album before finally going through his notifications. As predicted, there’s Kimchi-Jjigae’s dirty belly, but also rants about an exam in the chat with Seokmin and Seungkwan, as well as a selfie of Seungkwan featuring Seokmin with his face on their kitchen table in the background. Both look a little… tired.

Vernon is tired, too, but it’s deeply satisfying, sits in his bones with the reassurance of his accomplishments, leaves him sated. He knows his muscles will ache the next day at work, but it won’t hurt. On the way from the bus stop to the apartment, he inhales the biting frost and breathes out billowing white mist, stops beneath a street light to lift himself in demi pointe, even swings his arms a little. Seokmin and Seungkwan are both sprawled out over the sofa when Vernon arrives home, Seugkwan sprinting to the bathroom so Vernon can take his bath in peace after him.

“Seungkwan’s mom sent gimbap,“ Seokmin says, pushing a few bottles of soju across the coffee table to make space for plates.

“Is it enough to feed thirteen people again or can we finish it all in one sitting this time?“

“We might have to call Mingyu over,“ his roommate sighs. Vernon giggles as he puts down his bag in his room. “Bathroom’s free!“ he hears Seungkwan call, and Vernon stretches his arms over his head before grabbing his phone to shoot Wonwoo a quick text. He’s choosing a record for his bath time when his phone pings with a response.

vernon

is it fine if i come over tomorrow

Jeon Wonwoo

Always :-)

*

What is true art? Vernon doesn’t often wonder about questions like that, which Wonwoo would probably call pseudo-philosophical anyway, but sitting in a cramped noraebang room with his friends cheering to Soonyoung’s and Jun’s rendition of DJ Doc’s Run To You gives him an answer nonetheless. It’s messy, it’s not even very good, but it’s colourful and, if Vernon gets to be the judge, kind of perfect, even if he pulls a face from time to time. “Hit those notes, hyung!“ Seungkwan hollers, and Jihoon calls back “Please don’t!“ while Minghao is dissolving into laughter next to Vernon. “He doesn’t even know the song!“ he exclaims, and Vernon laughs about Jun who stands entirely too close to the screen, as if it would make him any more familiar with the lyrics. In the heat of it all (the heat being Soonyoung screeching), it’s like any worry Vernon has ever had is minuscule and even non-existent, stomped flat by Minghao’s feet when he laughs, muted by song.

“Wow!“ comes from behind him, and the room is suddenly illuminated by white light instead of the muted blues and purples that remind of Jihoon’s stuffy studio. Vernon turns around to look up at Seokmin, whose hair is curling with wetness at the tips. 

“Soonyoung hyung, you have a range!“

“Oh yeah, he’s versatile,“ Wonwoo says, slinking into the room behind Seokmin. If his friend looks like he got caught in a light shower, Wonwoo is a picture of a jump into a lake. He’s soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead, his lips even a little blue, even though that might be associated with the room’s lighting.

“Is it raining?“ Jihoon asks sarcastically, which earns him Wonwoo’s hand slapped against his forehead.

“I couldn’t find Seokmin’s dentist,“ Wonwoo offers as an explanation while Jihoon writhes under his hold, finally escaping to Minghao. Careful not to flood the room, the older peels his long leather coat off, revealing yellow tartan pants adorned with chains and a tight turtleneck sweater with rips around the collarbones. Next to him, Seokmin exclaims a little “Oh wow, hyung!“ while Jun maniacally cackles and promptly puts his fingers into the holes and starts to pull at them. While the two squabble, Soonyoung grabs one of the echoing mics and shouts “Let’s get down to business!“ It makes Seungkwan startle and send him a bone-chilling look, but Soonyoung ignores in favour of making introductions.

“Seokminnie, do you know everybody?“ Jun is already talking animatedly to the newcomer, making him smile all toothily, but at Soonyoung’s question, the two turn their attention to the room.

“I think so?“ Seokmin says. “I didn’t know Junhui-ssi, but it’s a little dark, so I might be missing someone.“

“There’s Minghao,“ Vernon says, leaning back on the sofa and pointing at the slender man beside him. Minghao looks up at Seokmin, pushing his hair out of his eyes and tucking a few strands behind his bejewelled ear.

“No, I know Seokmin,“ he says, quietly enough that it would have been drowned out if the noreabang machine had been playing any song at that moment.

In the dim light, Vernon can see Seokmin’s eyes drop to the flowers etched to the sides of Minghao’s throat, widening in what Vernon knows is panic, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, well,“ he stammers, which makes Seungkwan snort.

Vernon stands up, decisively, going to stand next to Wonwoo. “You want to sit?“ he asks, smiling as Wonwoo focuses on him and grins.

“Hi,“ he says instead of replying, and Vernon says “Hi“ back, privately, revelling in the fact that Wonwoo is currently looking at him like it’s the first time in a three year-long drought. Wonwoo’s lips curl up just slightly, his eyes shifting over Vernon’s face before he stands straighter and says “Yeah, thanks“ and goes to sit between Minghao and Seungkwan.

“So when are we ordering the drinks?“ Jun asks, earning himself a slap on his leg.

“You graduated last year, trust fund baby, you’re not the one celebrating freedom,“ Jihoon grunts, making Seungkwan cackle.

“Not like you’re one to talk,“ he grins. “You still haven’t handed in your project.“

Vernon smiles at Jihoon’s groan, happy that his friends are all getting along so well. At least for the most part.

“So?“ he asks, turning to Seokmin. His friend snaps out of his zone, looking wide eyed at him before leaning over.

“Do you remember when Seungkwan said I kinda got around in my first semester?“ he frantically whispers into Vernon’s ear.

“Are you finally doing that again?“ Vernon retorts, deadpan. Seokmin looks at him with bewilderment before glancing over Vernon’s shoulder again and wringing his hands. “I don’t, it’s just… the Minghao guy?“

Vernon’s mouth opens in understanding, turning to quickly look at Minghao who is currently carding his fingers through Wonwoo’s wet hair and chatting with Soonyoung.

“That was when?“ Vernon asks.

“I don’t know, before I knew you,“ Seokmin asks, hiding his impossibly flushed face in his hands. “He was… um, I really liked him,“ he continues. “I don’t know, I’m just a little embarrassed.“

“Don’t be,“ Vernon shrugs. “Minghao’s chill, he’s not going to make you uncomfortable on purpose.“ He’s not going to expose his friends’ business by revealing the intricacies of their relationships with each other, but Seokmin already seems reassured by his words, looking up at him from between his fingers.

“I’ll… sit down with Jihoon hyung then,“ he mutters, leaving his coat hung up by the door before shyly shuffling across the room. Jun grins at him brightly, and Vernon catches Minghao follow his friend with his eyes, half hiding behind Wonwoo. It makes him raise his eyebrows in amusement and wonder alike, and when he catches Wonwoo’s eye, the older returns that look. There’s something boiling underneath the surface and Vernon is going to wait until the lid falls off the pot before he meddles. It’s fun to see the story unfold, after all, and Wonwoo seems to think the same.

“Who’s singing next?“ Soonyoung asks. He’s kneeling next to Seungkwan who’s browsing through the songs, leaning on the sofa’s armrest towards his new friend across from where Vernon is sitting. A waitress comes in, bringing a few bottles of soju and more glasses than there are people in the room, and Wonwoo gets up to help her pass the bottles around, ignoring how she initially recoils at his appearance.

“I say our Jihoonie!“ Jun exclaims, raising a glass at his seating neighbour. “He’s been so tense all week, he needs to let loose a little.“

“Not if he chooses something depressing,“ Minghao quips back, looking disdainfully at the soju.

“No chance!“ Seungkwan exclaims, making Soonyoung fall on his ass and giggle about it. “Jihoon hyung, get up, we’re finally doing a duet together. No more hiding behind your blinking RGB keyboard, I want you to put your whole throat into this.“

“Oh,“ Wonwoo says at the choice of words, while Jihoon just tiredly blinks and lets himself get pulled up. A second later, Seungkwan punches the numbers into the machine, selecting Gain’s Bloom, which makes Seokmin whoop loudly, while Jihoon defeatedly sighs. Vernon can’t suppress a little cheer either. Seungkwan is really good at reading the room, it seems.

The most part of the afternoon is spent like this, watching his friends sing, laughing when they get a little loud, talking to Soonyoung who is inexplicably still kneeling on the ground instead of sitting on the free seat vacated by Seungkwan next to Wonwoo, or even smushing onto the love seat with Vernon, exchanging jokes with Jun and Jihoon who are apparently trying to compete in insults. Everybody is singing, if only on the sidelines like Vernon is. Seats change constantly with every singer, and when Wonwoo gets roped into a rendition of Glasses by Soonyoung after Seokmin has graced everyone by singing Day6’s Walk, he bows for everyone and loudly proclaims that he’ll never sing again. Minghao loudly says “thank you“, which Wonwoo replies to with his middle finger before sitting down next to Vernon who has not moved an inch from his seat.

“Good job,“ Vernon says with a grin, making space for his friend.

Wonwoo snorts in response. “That was definitely not my best, you don’t need to lie,“ he says. He leans back, tucking his shoulder’s behind Vernon’s on the cushions, lifting his glass of soju to his mouth. Vernon follows the motion with his eyes before grinning.

“I knew you’d become a big star when I first heard you sing gibberish to The Stooges during our tutoring sessions.“

Wonwoo whips his head around to look at him in disbelief, his eyes shining in the dim light. “This is a memory that is supposed to be repressed so deep in your subconscious it could come out of your ass, Vernon, don’t say things like that.“ Vernon laughs loudly, warmth blooming in chest at Wonwoo’s lightheartedness. “Your mom was so confused when I randomly recited their lyrics, god how embarrassing.“ Vernon can’t quite quell his laughter, opting to grab his bottle of water to take a sip. He’s been drinking some soju, but so much water to compensate that he feels bloated.

“I just kinda learned to ignore your emo mutterings. I suppose they were kinda charming.“ Wonwoo smiles for him warmly at that, spinning his glass between his fingers and creating a hypnotising clinking with his rings that somehow rings louder in Vernon’s ears than the music.

“Are you not going to sing?“ he asks, and Vernon simply shrugs.

“Maybe, I don’t know.“

Wonwoo shrugs as well, a motion that feels gigantic against Vernon’s back. He turns his attention back to his singing friends. In the pulse of their music, he nearly forgets his beating heart.

Vernon waits for Minghao to finish the song Jihoon gently encouraged him to sing, something surprisingly sweet and well fitting of his voice, before he finally gets up to go to the toilet. The noraebang they went to is close to Jun’s place, which means that Vernon only meets suit clad businessmen with the dignity of schoolboys on the way to the toilets, but it also means that the hallways are furnished with several vending machines filled with instant coffees and snacks. When he exits the restroom, he finds Seungkwan tapping against the number pad of one of those with his signature pout.

“Do you need help?“ Vernon asks, observing how his friend turns around clumsily and confusedly. It makes him grin.

“Oh!“ Seungkwan exclaims. “Yeah I, uh, I don’t know, it’s not working for me right now.“

Vernon joins him in front of the glass display, pressing the bigger button to get the money back, trying not to openly laugh at Seungkwan’s impressed expression.

“What do you want?“ he asks after putting the coins back into the slot. Seungkwan vaguely points into the general direction of the fruit bars and mumbles “C7“ before leaning against the vending machine with his hands behind his back and watching Vernon handle the transaction.

“How are you?“ Seungkwan asks after staring a little.

“Good,“ Vernon replies, bending down to grab the snack in the dispenser. “I’m doing well, nothing much happening lately.“

Seungkwan hums. He’s the kind of tipsy that Vernon knows makes him a little more jokingly snippy and very honest, and that also makes him constantly pout. It kind of looks like he’s feigning ignorance, like he’s a gossip hungry lady in his cream coloured sweater and his ironed jeans. He happily accepts the bar when Vernon hands it to him though, as well as his change.

“You look like you’re doing good. You look nice. Kinda grungy.“

Vernon looks down on himself. He didn’t really put much thought into his clothes that morning, but he guesses Seungkwan’s description kinda fits, with his wide dark wash jeans and the dark brown hoodie with the skeleton printed on it. He grins again.

“Comes with the company I guess.“

Seungkwan narrows his eyes shortly at him, munching on his fruit bar, before he opens his mouth in a comical little o and breaks out into a little giggle. The hallway isn’t the warmest, but Vernon is content waiting out Seungkwan’s storm until he wants to get back into the room. It’s been a while since he has indulged himself in the tumultuous winds of their friendship, anyway.

After some silent chewing and not so silent swallowing, Seungkwan looks up at Vernon, spectacularly dropping the wrapper next to the trash bin.

“Can I ask you something?“ he begins. “It’s fine if you don’t want to answer tho, I’d understand.“

Vernon shrugs, indicating Seungkwan to go on. He can see him ponder over his choice of words, but he seems to figure it out rather quickly as he determinately looks at Vernon and asks:

“Are you and Wonwoo dating?“

Taken aback, Vernon mouths a little “oh“. Seungkwan looks apologetic, which Vernon is equally as surprised by as by the question itself. He’s not quite sure how to answer, because technically, there’s only one option: no, Wonwoo and him are not dating. But Seungkwan’s confident question makes Vernon hesitate. What does Seungkwan expect him to reply?

“Uh…“ he begins, but Seungkwan is already frantically waving him off.

“No, I’m sorry for assuming,“ he exclaims. “You two just look really close, like, you know, boyfriends, and I’ve been thinking that there’s something going on between you and him for a while now, I’m just really nosy.“ He prods at the vending machine’s display, lips pressed together in a flustered expression.

“Ah, well,“ Vernon replies, smiling at nothing in particular. Seungkwan looks at him inquisitively. “I mean, no, we aren’t together.“ The smile nearly turns into a grin that he has to suppress, so he shrugs again. Casual, that’s what it all is, after all.

Standing straight, Seungkwan furrows his brow at Vernon. “Mh hm,“ he hums, “mh hm.“ Then, he wisely nods and walks past Vernon to head back to the room.

“Come on,“ he says with a light grin. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you not singing at all.“

Their friends are appalled when Seungkwan swings open the door and loudly announces that Vernon has managed to stay silent for the entirety of their get-together. Seokmin jumps up with a lamenting “Nooo!“, a tall, half empty glass in his hand, only to fall back onto the loveseat next to Minghao who is holding a similar glass, just as empty. “We can’t have that,“ Jihoon says, grabbing the songbook from a giggling Wonwoo and flitting through the options, batting Soonyoung’s pointing finger away. “Take the damn mic, Vernon,“ Seungkwan says, pushing it into his hand, and Seokmin gets up to make sure Vernon definitely doesn’t let go of the sticky microphone, leaning heavily against him. “I’m going to make you cry with my skills, hyung,“ Vernon jokes, only to get loudly shushed. Everybody is gathered around Jihoon until the booklet gets ripped out of his hands and passed around, the screen still displaying a 58 point score that nobody cares about anymore. In the midst the quarrelling, Vernon suddenly finds himself next to Wonwoo.

“No escape for you after all,“ the older says with a smile that Vernon easily returns.

“It’s fine,“ he replies, leaning more into Wonwoo’s space. When his friend doesn’t move away, Seungkwan’s words find their way back into Vernon’s frontal lobe, spinning in entrancing circles that remind him of Wonwoo’s hands when he plays with their cats. Really close, like boyfriends, it chants in his head, and it has a nice ring to it, in the darkness of this noraebang, with Wonwoo’s presence stable and unwavering next to him.

“What do you think they’ll make me sing?“ Vernon asks, just to see Wonwoo’s mouth move.

“Zico,“ Wonwoo replies with embarrassing confidence, but in that moment, Jun finally rips the song book out of Soonyoung’s hands and declares: “He’s singing the cat song. With Wonwoo.“

In an instant, all eyes are on Vernon and Wonwoo huddled close together at the sidelines. Wonwoo surprisedly points at himself.

“What cat song?“ Seungkwan asks, interrupted by a gasp from Seokmin.

“Sweet Little Kitty? I’m a romantic cat by Cherry Filter?“ he exclaims, eyes wide in genuine ecstasy at the idea. Around him, their friends’ eyes start to shine with a similar sentiment. Jun smiles proudly.

“That’s… not a bad choice,“ Wonwoo mumbles, and Seungkwan is at the noraebang machine in a flash to punch in the numbers. A microphone finds its way into Wonwoo’s hand as well.

“It’s an excellent choice,“ Jihoon says. “Sing, my dear pupils.“

And sing they do.

The tumults of Vernon’s thoughts are immediately silenced by Wonwoo’s laugh when the first notes begin blaring through the speakers and their friends loudly cheer them on, and he laughs as well when he looks back at them, a perfect picture of carelessness and joy. And then Wonwoo misses his cue, distracted by Vernon chanting “sweet sweet little kitty“, and his voice cracks while he looks at Vernon, and nothing has ever been more complete to Vernon than this moment where they laugh at each other, singing about being a cat in love, shouting it at each other and at their equally as loud friends, and fully agreeing on it. It’s like coming up for air after listening to a song with your head underwater, clear and overwhelming, and Vernon doesn’t even care that he’s not quite reaching the high notes, because Wonwoo isn’t quite reaching them either and still laughs at him like it’s the only thing that matters to him. 

Right now, it certainly is the only thing that matters to Vernon.

*

“Is this Seungcheol really Jeonghan-ssi’s Seungcheol?“ Wonwoo asks one day while Vernon meets him and Mingyu in the alternative coffee shop they’ve come to frequent more often. The instagram profile that Wonwoo shows him is the start of a major realisation: this is the part of Vernon’s life that had not yet been taken in by Wonwoo as of yet, and that is changing. Mingyu recognises Seungcheol as one of the regulars at the gym he frequents, which leads to the three of them somehow meeting up and waiting for training to end on a Thursday evening. It’s an interesting mix, and Wonwoo chats with Jeonghan and Chan until he gets roped into trying some ballet figures by Mingyu who shows himself fascinated by Vernon’s abilities. A week later, Mingyu appears on Chan’s social media, leading to Seokmin excitedly telling Seungkwan everything about the younger dancer, pulling in Vernon as a support to the stories he was the one to tell his roommate in the first place.

Wonwoo is so much part of Vernon’s life that he is somewhat ever-present, even when he’s not around, and not just in the sense that Vernon quite literally can’t stop thinking about him in the most subtle ways, but rather that his surroundings are starting to associate the two of them as one.

“I bet my cats are better than yours and Wonwoo’s,“ Jeonghan teases Vernon during training, and while Vernon replies that his senior’s cats are probably equally as nice as his own, he tries to remember when he even told Jeonghan that Wonwoo was the one to take in the kittens last October. Mr. Hong wants Vernon to tell his friend that there’s new printers and that Wonwoo is welcome to purchase another one, and the girls at training don’t even bat an eye when they see Wonwoo’s car anymore. When the weather gets nicer, Joshua asks if Vernon wants to come visit him in Incheon, and suggests to make a day trip out of it. 

“Ask Wonwoo to drive you,“ he says. “After all, why not meet up all three of us, for old times’ sake. I haven’t seen Wonwoo in ages, except at your recital.“

“Did you not even consider meeting him before I mentioned the train schedules?“ Vernon speaks into his phone, checking for a hole in his shoes.

On the other end, Joshua laughs, not even sounding ashamed. “Look, I only got in contact with him again because you guys are mingling lately. It’s been, like, a year since we last talked. If he doesn’t want to drive, at least invite him to join you. I’ll show you around my school to scare the kids a little. ‘This is how you’ll end up if you don’t study.’ I’ll conveniently leave out both your shining careers.“

“You hate those middle schoolers,“ Vernon mumbles, making Joshua laugh even harder. Seokmin comes in to the front door at that moment, accidentally hitting Vernon with it and joining the call after frantically apologising.

“I’m counting on seeing you soon,“ Joshua ends the call after Seokmin made him list all the good qualities of preteens, switching to English. “And Wonwoo too. I want to get all chummy with him like you are.“

“Alright,“ Vernon snorts. “I’ll see what he thinks of it.“ In the end, he doesn’t think Wonwoo’s car is in any way more economical or ecological for a thirty minute distance than the train, but the idea of reconnecting with his childhood does sound nice. He knows that a few years ago, it would have been an ordeal even trying to reminisce, but now, he sees that he’s grown out of believing what his brain tried to tell him when he was younger. It’s funny how someone else’s voice became so much more prominent in his head.

The routine between Vernon and Wonwoo stays the same, since Vernon is not graced with having a break from work; a few days a week, Vernon will take the bus instead of the bike so he can drive to Wonwoo’s place instead of to his own apartment, where he’ll bathe and spend time with his cats while Wonwoo tells him about his masters thesis and ropes him into ridiculous discourses about music and movies. On Tuesdays, Vernon takes his bike to work, and on some Fridays, he’ll take the short drive to some corner store that Wonwoo suggests to have his lunch there before heading to his afternoon training. Jihoon asks him to meet up less often, his EP finally being finished and handed in to his professor, but they still manage to collide in Wonwoo’s apartment from time to time, mostly on the weekends along with a bored and thus hyper energetic Soonyoung and a mischievous Jun who, just like Vernon, still has to maintain his regular work hours at the law firm.

“That’s what you get from doing your military service right away,“ Jun gloats over a mismatched take-out dinner, unprompted. “You have to wait longer before getting to earn your own money.“

“No, asshat,“ Jihoon replies, hitting his older friend with a cushion, “that’s what I get from studying music production. Unless I get discovered through my SoundCloud, I am completely dependent on getting recommended by my profs or seniors.“

“I liked service,“ Soonyoung says. “It was a different sort of routine, but at least I got diagnosed there and didn’t have to buy my Ritalin myself.“

Wonwoo scowls, lifting The Earl to his face and pouting at her. “It’s performative and imperialistic to still persist on enlisting people, as it is sexist and queerphobic. Our system is traditionalist to a fault and we are still one of the most racist countries exactly because oppressive customs like this are still being enforced on our society.“ Earl Grey places her paws on his face, effectively shutting him up.

“My words exactly,“ Jihoon grumbles. “My grandfather looked at me like I’d insulted his entire family when I tried to argue with him, which I basically did.“

“What about you, Vernon?“ Jun asks him, taking a sip of his sinful coffee and whisky concoction that he inexplicably drinks out of a flask. Vernon lifts his eyebrow at Wonwoo’s disgusted look, but only shrugs at the question.

“Not American enough. Unless I become incredibly famous in the next three years, I’ll have to go.“ Wonwoo looks over at him apologetically, sad about the prospect that at some point, Vernon will have to stop dancing. Vernon doesn't really like bringing it up himself, but he’s come to terms with it, and it doesn’t hinder him from giving his all on the parquet in the here and now, where he’s free to fly.

“I wish I could just say that I’m a raging homosexual so I'll simply be exempt like they do in America,“ Wonwoo says, making Soonyoung choke on his water in laughter, so hard that Napoleon runs out of the room in alarm and Vernon has to lean over to hit him on the back.

“Wouldn’t have changed anything for me,“ Jihoon deadpans. “I didn’t know I was gay yet at that point.“ Soonyoung abruptly stops coughing, his head deep red as he stares at Vernon wide eyed. Unable to do anything but grin at his friend, Vernon doesn’t react to his silent plead, ignoring the way Jun hums a humorous “Oho“. Without even looking at him, Vernon knows that Wonwoo is trying his hardest to suppress a groan, so instead he looks at Jihoon who, unsurprisingly, is blushing himself, even though he puts on a near perfect act nonchalance as he stuffs rice into his mouth.

“Lots of unresolved sexual energy pent up in this room,“ Minghao announces himself as he steps into Wonwoo’s living room, Napoleon majestically perched in his arms.

“A-Hao!“ Jun calls with a grin, offering his flask to the newcomer who just regards it with a disgusted scowl. Jun laughs it off, leaving Wonwoo to look at Minghao with a frown instead.

“How do you know my house code?“ he asks, making Jihoon snort.

“Don’t act like its a coveted secret. We all know Vernon has it, too.“

“I watched the cats when you were gone for Seolal, hyung,“ Minghao replies, patting a blushing Wonwoo on the head, which Vernon tries not to laugh about. On the other hand, he starts wondering when exactly he acquired Wonwoo’s door code, because he can’t remember the occasion. Was it when he’d slept over the first time? Or when Wonwoo hadn’t been home that one time to let Vernon in after training?

“Is there anything else to drink? I need alcohol in my blood, like, right now,“ Soonyoung pipes up, getting on his feet to traipse towards Wonwoo’s kitchen.

“Me too, actually,“ Minghao says as he slinks an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulder and leans his weight on him, making the shorter man giggle.

“I can see why,“ Jun grins, jabbing a finger at Minghao’s neck before disappearing into the kitchen himself.

With something like awe but also mild terror, Jihoon mumbles “That is a lot of hickeys.“ He is not wrong, since despite Minghao’s tattoos, purple bruises are still visible in between the filigrane lines of the flowers on the sides of his neck, as well as on the light skin of his throat that is usually devoid of any markings.

Despite Soonyoung’s gasping, Minghao just giggles at the remark.

“What can I say,“ he hums with a wink towards Vernon. “He is very demanding.“

All in all, Vernon has no reasons to complain about the latest developments regarding this total merging of his friend groups, like cells that create a monstrous beauty out of two already pretty beautiful things. Seokmin also seems to benefit from knowing Wonwoo’s friends, his confidence having grown significantly. At least he is still bashful about his conquest when Seungkwan relays every single one of his escapades with Minghao in the group chat.

“When will one of Vernon's sexy punk friends date me,“ Seungkwan sighs one evening as they’re eating Seokmin’s homemade pizza. “I’m feeling left out, Vernon! I can’t be be only one who’s not linked up to one of them yet.“

“Minghao and I are not dating,“ Seokmin screeches, beet red and wide eyed. Vernon openly laughs at him, quickly leaning away when Seokmin attempts to hit him on the arm. “Don’t get too bold,“ his roommate complains before he takes a big bite of his pizza slice.

“I don’t think there’s anyone properly available anymore,“ Vernon tells Seungkwan. “Unless you’re fine with practically dating Seokmin, because I’m pretty sure that going out with Jun is not exclusive, with him and Minghao.“ Seokmin’s blush is enough to confirm that statement. It’s an understatement to say that he has taken a liking to Minghao. He is properly infatuated.

“Have Soonyoung and Jihoon hyung resolved their weird tension?“ Seungkwan continues asking, stealing bits of broccoli from his lovesick friend’s plate. Vernon has not told either of his friends about the tension in Wonwoo’s group, but he is not surprised that Seungkwan has picked up on it anyway, he is sharp like that.

“Honestly, I don’t know,“ Vernon says. “They’re not ignoring each other anymore, but Soonyoung is still holding back in comparison to when I met him before. I’ll ask Wonwoo about it.“

With a wide grin, Seungkwan bites down on his fork. “Yeah, go ahead and ask Wonwoo about. I’ll cope with being the only person at this table who’s not nearly in a relationship.“

*

Seungkwan is right. It nearly is a relationship. Wonwoo asks Vernon to help him get the cats to the vet for a check up, and Dr. Park asks the kittens who are now tall and lanky if their dads take good care of them. Vernon observes how Wonwoo puffs his chest proudly, and smiles widely at him when Wonwoo turns to look at him with a grin. After Dr. Park has approved of the cat’s health and lets them go, Vernon is the one to buckle the carrier onto the backseat while Wonwoo gets settles behind the steering wheel and puts his Smashing Pumpkins CD into the stereo slot because he remembers that Vernon mentioned being interested in them once. 

“Do you want to order dinner with me?“ Wonwoo asks, his eyes on the road and interrupting his baby talk to the complaining cats. The sun is beginning to set, and Vernon is happy that Mr. Hong left him off work early so he could accompany Wonwoo. He shines in the city lights, rugged edges reflecting more light than a mirror could.

“Sure,“ Vernon replies, leaning back into the rumble of the car, letting it carry him to his destination.

The cats escape the carrier in a frenzy after they’ve made their way up to Wonwoo’s apartment, immediately seeking refuge in his room. Napoleon Bonaparte is so cranky that she only reappears when Vernon fills their dish with kibble a few hours later, after him and Wonwoo have already had their own dinner.

“What a dramatic rascal you are,“ Wonwoo fondly scolds her when she joins them on the sofa, laughing as she indignantly turns her back to him and settles on the backrest.

Vernon smiles at her. “She was the first one to talk to me when I found them,“ he says, carefully caressing her spine. Next to him, Wonwoo leans back into the cushions, turned towards him with his feet on the couch. He’s put his glasses on, something Vernon has noticed he does more when they’re together, and looks at him through relaxed lids. It’s a perfectly tension-free moment, so Vernon leans back as well.

“I remember she wouldn’t leave my side all evening. At some point she fell asleep in my hood.“

“Aaw,“ Wonwoo says, smiling widely. His nose scrunches up, pushing his glasses upwards. “And now look at her. Lives up to her name perfectly.“

Vernon grins as well, and then thinks of something. Sitting up straight, he wriggles his arms out of his hoodie’s sleeves and turns it around his torso until the hood is at the front.

“What are you doing?“ Wonwoo chuckles, sinking deeper into the cushions as he plays with his rings, until Vernon grabs Napoleon from her perch and gingerly stuffs her into the hood in front of his chest. 

Wonwoo gasps. With a confused purr, Napoleon peeks her head over the rim of her new sleeping spot, bonking her head against Vernon’s chin.

“Vernon, you’re a genius!“ Wonwoo exclaims, leaning forward to pet Napoleon Bonaparte.

“I saw a video of someone else doing it,“ Vernon replies, looking down at his cat and Wonwoo’s hand, his long fingers and the fine dark hairs on its back. His enthusiasm is palpable, and Vernon isn’t surprised when his friend jumps up and says: “Hold on, I need a hoodie too.“

It’s Vernon’s turn to laugh as he settles back against the backrest, petting Napoleon on his own. Kimchi-Jjigae jumps into his lap, standing up on his hind legs to smell his sister, his little paws digging into the fabric. Overtaken by the cuteness, Vernon grabs his phone to snap a few pictures in selfie mode, making kissing noises as the kittens meow into his face until Wonwoo emerges back into the living room holding a light blue sweater, his previous top taken off to reveal a thin black t-shirt, his tattoos fully exposed like his reservations to show them never existed in the first place.

“Aw!“ he coos again at Vernon, before asking “Where is the Earl? I want to cuddle my little baby.“ Vernon grins as the older runs towards the kitchen, fighting to put the hoodie on the wrong way around. When he comes back, his short hair is wildly tussled and his glasses are crooked, but his smile is wide as he holds his arms under the bulgy hood where Earl Grey now resides.

“Cute,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo giggles as he makes his way towards the couch. When he catches Vernon’s look though, he pauses.

“Something… in my face?“ he asks, still grinning. At the question, Vernon notices that he’s been staring. Just, not at Wonwoo’s face.

“Is that your own hoodie?“ he asks. It’s rather uncommon for Wonwoo to own anything that wouldn’t make him completely invisible if you turned the lights off, and Vernon is pretty sure he has a hoodie like that, greyish blue with the black brand design now spread over the expanse of Wonwoo’s chest as he lifts Earl Grey and looks down himself.

“Uhm,“ he replies. His cheeks flush, Vernon notices, and he quickly shifts his eyes back to the piece of clothing instead of observing the process of being flustered on Wonwoo’s face.

“It seems like it isn’t,“ Wonwoo finally says, looking up at Vernon with a grin. “Do you want it back?“

Vernon shrugs. He really couldn’t care less wether his clothes are in his own closet or in that of the person he practically already coexists with, and if he’s being honest, he likes seeing Wonwoo in light colours. The contrast is nice, and maybe it adds something to it that it’s Vernon’s colours he’s wearing.

It adds a lot, actually.

Wonwoo seems to take Vernon’s silence as a favourable response, so he sits back down on the couch, grabbing his phone and turning on the music, something Vernon recognises as one of his own recommendations.

“Rina Sawayama?“ he inquires, and Wonwoo nods with a little smile as he checks his texts.

“I checked her out a little. News from Soonyoung, by the way. He’s decided to act like he can’t reach his upper arm where he got the tattoo so Jihoon will have to take off the wrap and put on the cream. At this rate he’s trying to create even more tension between them and just hopes it snaps.“

Vernon huffs out a laugh, still cradling Napoleon in his hood, and looks at Wonwoo replying to Soonyoung in all caps letters.

“How’s yours doing?“ he asks, and Wonwoo looks up, blinking at him in surprise, his lashes dense with what Vernon knows is not makeup, but just how they naturally are.

“Ah, the appointment got postponed,“ his friend replies. “I forgot I mentioned that when you were there.“ He puts his phone away and starts petting The Earl on the head, leaning over to Vernon with a chuckle to show him how her lower lip got stuck behind her teeth.

The proximity that ensues is more than natural, it’s self-evident, and cradled by the cushions, Vernon starts thinking of Jeonghan, and of Jihoon and Soonyoung, and of domesticity and how easy it is to lose yourself in the comfort of not talking. And how much easier it is to not pretend.

In his hood, Napoleon wriggles violently, jerking Vernon’s head down. He exclaims a little at the sudden pull in his neck from it, a disturbing discomfort that he knows will hurt a lot if he doesn’t massage it right away, but his cat is still trying to escape his hoodie and keeping his hands occupied.

“Bonaparte,“ he grumbles, trying to help her out, and out of his periphery, he sees something move towards him. In the next moment, Wonwoo’s cool hand is on his neck, pressing down into the muscle, hard, in a way that Vernon knows will leave the phantom sensation of intimacy for a longer time.

“Get out, silly cat,“ Wonwoo chuckles, laughing freely when she finally hops down. With a laugh of his own, Vernon leans back into the couch. Wonwoo’s hand is still on his neck, rhythmically applying pressure and pushing his fingers against the knots in Vernon’s neck, painful and impossibly relieving.

“I hope I’m doing this right,“ he mumbles, and Vernon turns to him, looks him into those wide, inquisitive eyes, and decides.

“Wonwoo,“ he says. And when Wonwoo doesn’t reply, he lifts one hand, carefully, and sets it below his jaw.

Something shifts in Wonwoo’s face, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, dark inside and out. His hand on Vernon’s neck stills, immobile. Waiting.

He’s waiting.

They’re so close already, naturally slipped into each other’s spaces when they sat next to each other, but Vernon pulls him closer by his jaw, revelling in the way the slightest pressure makes Wonwoo move to his every whim. They’re so close, Vernon feels Wonwoo’s breath on his own mouth, warm and irregular.

“Wonwoo,“ he says again, perceives the near imperceptible nod in response, catches how Wonwoo still has not moved his stare away from his eyes.

“If I kiss you now,“ Vernon says, “would you know what that means?“

When Wonwoo licks his lips, Vernon’s gaze automatically drops to his mouth. Despite it, the corners of that mouth don't cock up into a grin. When he looks up again, Wonwoo is still looking him in the eyes.

“I might,“ he replies, and in return, it’s Vernon who grins. His thumb is on Wonwoo’s jaw, and he tilts his head in response to the touch.

“I’d like to be your boyfriend,“ Vernon says. The hand at the nape of his neck becomes a deadweight that urges Vernon to close the gap, but he waits it out. Wonwoo is silent, staring at him with all the intensity of a star.

“…Yeah,“ he says after a breath, or two, or maybe none, because he sounds like he is coming up for air as he replies.

Vernon smiles. And then, he closes the gap between them, crashing through the inexistent distance between them, soft against Wonwoo’s lips that let out the slightest gasp and fit so perfectly onto Vernon’s mouth.

It feels better than a dream.

It feels like home.

“MEOW,“ Earl Grey laments between them, which has Vernon jerk back in surprise. Wonwoo is forced to retract his hand from where it had found its way into Vernon’s hair in order to fight off The Earl’s swatting paws.

“Shit, not now, baby,“ Wonwoo scolds as he attempts to scoop the cat out of his hood, and he looks so… lovely with his messy hair and the flush that colours his cheeks that Vernon laughs out loud at the image. Stunned, both cat and owner turn their heads to look at him, and he can’t stop laughing as he stands up to pick Earl Grey out of Wonwoo’s hoodie, giggling when Wonwoo starts to smile and laugh, too. The cat escapes Vernon’s grasp with an indignant meow, and Wonwoo looks up at him from his seat on the sofa, his smile wide and his eyes bright behind his tilted glasses.

“I like you,“ he starts, “so much, Vernon, it’s unbelievable.“

In Vernon’s chest, there’s a spectacle of butterflies, turning in pirouettes in the warmest spotlights of the sun. They’re dancing to a song that Vernon doesn’t know yet.

*

“Hey, mom,“ Vernon says, his phone heavy in his hand, the screen glaring at him in the dimmer of his room, the rain on the other side of his window a quiet murmur, “do you remember my last year of high school?“

Of course she does. Vernon’s last year of high school had been equivalent to flowers wilting an hour after you picked them. In the wake of his future, Vernon had lost heart, and his parents had been faced with an offbeat transformation that Vernon never really offered to explain.

Vernon’s last year of high school had been disillusioning. With the intimate knowledge that society wasn’t willing to be kind to gay men, Vernon had started to be afraid, somehow, a liminal feeling of sorts, and anxious. Not necessarily for himself, but in an existential way that had frozen him to the spot, an anxiety that made it impossible for him to dance any longer. He doesn’t know if his parents ever realised that this was ultimately the reason he’d crashed from the air like Icarus with a made up sun, but he himself knows, now. And he grew back his wings, and they won’t melt this time.

“I’m better now,“ he tells his mother, and he can hear her chuckling, fondly, at the other end of the line.

“Of course, honey,“ she says. “But you’ve never been bad.“

He can’t help but smile at that, because she’s right – he was never wrong for liking boys, or for wanting to dance ballet, or for those two things coinciding. 

“I know,“ he replies to his mother. “But it took me a while to not kinda hate who I was back then.“ His phone lights up with a notification, nearly distracting enough to drown out the sharp inhale his mother takes. In that moment Vernon feels deeply sorry for her, full of regret for making her worry, but there’s nothing to be worried about anymore. He receives another notification.

“Wonwoo’s here, so I’ll be going,“ he says. He can hear his mother grin at that.

“Our dear Wonwoo,“ she says. “You always quite looked up to this boy. He grew up well.“

Vernon can only agree to that. When he’s ended the call, he grabs his backpack and heads out of his room, nodding at Seokmin who’s eating his third bowl of cereal of the morning.

“You want some too?“ he asks, shaking the box at Vernon.

“Nah, already had some,“ Vernon replies. He’d woken up pretty early, for a Sunday, and there had been a random chocolate chip in his fruit mix, so his morning has started out pretty well already. With another glance at his roommate, dressed up in a giraffe onesie, he grins and grabs an apple for good measure. “Anyways, I gotta go anyway. My boyfriend’s here.“

“Sure, have a good day,“ Seokmin replies, still immersed into his phone, until he frowns and looks up. At Vernon’s grin, his eyes widen in recognition.

“Wonwoo??“ he asks, and when Vernon only shrugs and goes to head out of the apartment, Seokmin laughs loudly.

“Congrats, my Vernon!“ he calls after him, giddy. Vernon doesn’t have time to reply thanks before he opens his door and finds said boyfriend waiting in front of it, wearing the red leather jacket with the many pins, his choppy hair showcasing all of his piercings.

“Vernon, it’s cold out,“ he says, somewhat exasperated, and Vernon only shrugs.

“You have that coat in the boot of your car,“ he retaliates with a grin, and Wonwoo laughs.

“Fine, have it your way. It’s going to be warm in the parlour anyway.“

The drive to the tattoo shop is a little longer, and they have to park a little away, and Wonwoo tries to run around his car with an umbrella before Vernon can get out, not realising that Vernon has already stepped onto the curb with his own. They laugh about it and their umbrellas knock into each other while they walk through the diamond rain of Seoul that pearls down their leather and follows their footsteps like quicksilver.

“There he is,“ a girl smiles as they enter the squat, nondescript building, leaning over drawings on a counter with strands of dark blue hair falling out of her messy bun.

“Hi, Soojin,“ Wonwoo greets her, holding the door open for Vernon who tries to shake the water droplets out of his umbrella. The girl regards him intently, before nodding towards the back with a slow blink towards Vernon.

“Chaeyoung’s at the back cleaning up her station, go ahead,“ she tells Wonwoo as she gets up to walk to the register. “Are you here for a tattoo as well? We don’t really do walk-ins on Sundays, sorry.“

Vernon turns around to see if someone is behind him before realising that she’s talking to him, which has Wonwoo laugh his loud monosyllabic laughter.

“No, he’s just watching me today. Chae said it was fine.“ Soojin just shrugs, and Wonwoo turns to Vernon with a wide smile.

“Right ahead,“ he says, which he doesn’t need to do because only one station is lit up in the back of the shop anyway, but Vernon smiles back nonetheless because Wonwoo’s voice is so nice when it’s directed at him.

How exactly was it that he did not realise he was in love?

Chaeyoung is short, and she wears shredded Chuck Taylors that might have been white at some point, and she squints her eyes at Vernon like a suspicious cartoon detective.

“Oh my god, I do know you,“ she greets him after Wonwoo introduces them to each other. “Wonwoo was watching videos of you dancing when he got his flowers with Changbin.“

“UM,“ Wonwoo interjects loudly, and Vernon laughs at him. Chaeyoung steals a revolving stool from one of the other artists’ stations for Vernon to sit on and starts sorting her supplies, pulling out the sketch of the landscape she plans to etch onto Wonwoo’s back. When she turns back, stencil ready to apply, Wonwoo nods and takes off his jacket, looking around for a place to put it until Vernon grabs it out of his hands wordlessly. He looks up to see Wonwoo try to hide a smile, then watches as he lifts the hem of his sweater and takes it off carefully, revealing his skin bit by bit, toned muscle and black ink, and Vernon stares, unabashedly. Wonwoo turns his head away, a blush creeping up his neck, and makes to pull the sweater over his head, only to exclaim in surprise when his glasses get tangled in the hem and he stands by the chair with his arms awkwardly raised over his head, the sweater fully wrapped around his neck and obscuring his face. 

“God,“ Chaeyoung snorts, and Vernon giggles as he gets up to help Wonwoo take off the shirt. He registers the tattoo artist turning her back to them, and when Wonwoo’s face is finally revealed, his glasses knocked askew and his eyes flitting to meet Vernon’s, he kisses him quickly, just because he can.

“There you go,“ he says, righting Wonwoo’s glasses.

“Oh,“ Wonwoo replies, ridiculously dumbfounded, as he lets Vernon pull the sweater off the whole way. When Wonwoo finally sits down, his chest flush against the chair, he still tries to hide his smile, turning to Chaeyoung who is making fake retching noises, and leaving Vernon to take his place on the little stool again, where he watches the two banter and cradles Wonwoo’s clothes in his arms, warm and soft, reminiscent of a sleeping animal with it’s smell of familiarity and security. 

“Would you get a tattoo, Vernon?“ Chaeyoung asks later, as she paints a green bamboo forest and a creek between the tigers on Wonwoo’s back. They’d been talking about Chaeyoung’s career up until now, as well as her taste in music as she puts on a playlist of lo-fi hip hop tracks that clash with songs that were on the radio in 2008. Vernon looks up from where he was leaned over to see the process, and he notices Wonwoo’s eyes following his movement, not straying once from him since his session started. 

“Nah, I can’t,“ Vernon says, and Wonwoo exhales deeply. “I’m pretty sure I’d get fired immediately.“

With a frown, Chaeyoung nods. “Right, I forgot about that. Then I suppose Wonwoo will just have to get one for you, huh?“ Vernon grins at the thought, and Wonwoo smiles widely at him.

“Maybe. I think I will.“

“You’re nearly done, Wonwoo,“ Chaeyoung says a good hour after they first came in, interrupting Vernon and Wonwoo’s discussion about the aesthetic values of taping a newspaper comic on the wall next to your toilet. While she applies the lotion over the fresh ink, her playlist suddenly goes silent, and she groans.

“Soojin, turn the music back on, pretty please?“ An instant and a muffled complaint later, Sk8er Boi blasts through the studio, startling all three of them. “Not that loud!“ Chaeyoung shouts again, and Wonwoo just looks at Vernon wide eyed before his shoulders start to shake with repressed laughter.

“The cream is super cold,“ he tells Vernon, “and Chae kinda got it everywhere when she jumped.“ Vernon laughs at that and carefully wipes some of it away while Chaeyoung still squabbles with her colleague. 

“Better?“ he asks, and Wonwoo hums as a reply, a little noise from the back of his throat that matches Avril’s guitar.

“That’s crazy,“ he says with a smile. “I haven’t listened to this song in ages.“

Vernon chuckles as he wipes his fingers on a tissue.

“I listened to it, like, yesterday,“ he replies, grinning when Wonwoo rolls his eyes at him.

“Of course you did. I’m starting to feel like you never outgrew your rebellious phase.“

“None of us did,“ Vernon laughs, in time for the chorus to begin.

To be honest, he hopes they never will.

When Wonwoo pushes open the door to his apartment, his leg pressed against the gap to stop Kimchi-Jjigae from slipping out, Vernon spends a few seconds staring at the painting hung next to the coats rack. It’s right under the stream of the lamp, and yet Vernon swears he’s never seen it before.

“Is this new?“ he asks, finally granting Kimchi-Jjigae some of his attention and patting him on the head. Wonwoo turns around, his leg still suspended in the air where he’s shaking his boot off, the leather soft from the years.

“The Degas print? No, it’s old. I’ve had it here for, like, three years or something.“

“Huh,“ Vernon replies. Kimchi-Jjigae has lost interest, but Vernon can’t, and he contemplates the print as Wonwoo hangs up his jacket and goes to stand next to him.

“It’s the first thing you see when you come in, though,“ Wonwoo mumbles. He doesn’t quite lean against Vernon, so the dancer does it for him, gently pushing his shoulder against Wonwoo’s.

“I like it,“ he says. The painting is in a more realistic style than what Wonwoo usually seems to enjoy, and the outlines have a certain crispness to them, hyperreal and yet threatening to vaporise at any moment. It shows a ballet dancer on a bench, her white tutu falling like a tired flower around her, massaging her ankles, and next to her, hunched forward, a woman clad in black. Even though they don’t look at each other, they share a kind of synergy, and Vernon understands that they are the same, in a way, that they belong together, on a plane of existence that the painter hid on the canvas. Vernon feels the meaning of the painting thrum in his chest, and he can feel the same vibration behind Wonwoo’s ribs where their bodies touch.

“Oh,“ Wonwoo says as he recognises the epiphany, and then he laughs. Fingers find their place between Vernon’s own, slotting together perfectly like a lock finding its key, like a constellation falling into place, like the truth that they’ve known all along, and Vernon holds on to it.

“Maybe this took us a little long.“