Work Text:
"So?"
Sun hitting the side of his face, Hongjoong finally looks up from his drink.
"I need a date by…" He checks his phone. "Friday."
"That bad, huh?" He snorts, a miserable little sound, shoving his phone back in his pocket like it irks him to think about it. You can almost see hives licking up his neck, but maybe it's just the humiliation. "Sucks to be you." He still has the presence of mind to stick out his tongue, a sign he's not spiralling. Yet, at least.
"Why did I even agree to this?" Fidgeting with the straw of your smoothie, you tune out his distressed voice for the sake of listing possible solutions, humming along the fresh tunes playing in the café.
You guess you could introduce a few of your friends in other circumstances, but not with a four day notice; and even if they were willing to lie about the duration of the relationship to his nasty high school friends, you doubt Hongjoong would ever be able to fake intimacy with a stranger.
Maybe you have a friend in common that would be willing to sacrifice themselves for a meal and a favor, but when you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts, no one seems to fit the criteria of single, good liar and currently in town. You huff, your best friend giggles behind his knit sweater paws.
" What ?" You ask, looking over to his side of the table as he moves to collect the used napkins and cutlery in a neat little pile on his plate. Hongjoong just shrugs, noncommittal.
"You're going CIA on me again." He teases, voice in that melodic tone he only ever seems to use on you; it's not a compliment, not exactly. There's nothing left to do but fix him with a glare. “Kinda terrifying, not gonna lie.”
"It’s called being competent, look it up." You reach for his last fry, snatching it faster than he can react, and his distaste gets lost in your smugness. Cute .
“Well did you find someone, then?" Eyebrow raised, he stares in pure condescension; your silence tells him what he needs to know. "Very competent indeed, I see." He leans back, satisfied, arms crossed over his chest. You turn back to your phone screen, scrambling for something to wipe the smile off his face.
And you do know that he isn't actually holding it against you, and that he appreciates the help underneath the teasing, but the tiny voice in your head is a competitive little devil that pushes you to recklessly skip through names and numbers, hungry for a solution. Who's single, available, and a good liar? You huff as the list never seems to create itself, neverending nos stacked up in mockery. Mindlessly skipping through your own instagram account on your way to your follower list, you catch a photo of yourself and Hongjoong, the one you took while dangerously sleep deprived after a successful deadline. Scrolling down your feed happens on instinct, realization hitting hard and sudden.
And when you notice where your brain has gotten to, it's already out of your mouth, ahead of whatever shame or hesitation might've remained after almost a decade of friendship.
"Me!" The sheer confusion lasts a moment before you reiterate. "I'll be your date!"
" No ." Horror shoots through his features, smile gone. Ha! Take that, asshole. "Absolutely not." Honest to god offended, you cut through whatever excuse might come next.
"You can't stand two feet near a stranger, I know you better than your mom," Slowly sinking into the seat, defeat all over his face, Hongjoong watches as you go through the fingers of a hand. "I'm successful enough to brag, and people ask if we're together all the time anyway, so–"
"This is so weird, stop." He whines, rubbing his face with the sleeves of his sweater. You do catch some reflection in those cat eyes, ever so briefly. "You don't think it's weird?"
"What do you mean? I'm hot and you–" Unbothered, you take a sip of your smoothie, checking the time on your phone; if you hurry, you can still sweet talk your boss into not scolding you. "You have a great personality."
"Hey!" You giggle, leaning to obnoxiously smooch his incarnadine hair. It's warm from the sun, and smells like his coconut shampoo. "Don't ever be right again, please."
"Don't count on that, Mr. Kim." Mock saluting your way out of the café, you finally allow yourself to curse as you sprint back to the office.
"Green or Red?" You sneak your hands through the curtain of the fitting room, just enough to show the two pieces of clothing. Hongjoong is late but that's as much of a personality trait as being a workaholic. In fact, they walk hand in hand most of the time. You're too busy yourself to care about any of that.
"My outfit’s gonna clash with either, let me find something else." Groaning in annoyance, you crawl back inside, plopping onto the little seat as you wait for him to return.
It doesn't take long for Hongjoong to shove his arm through the curtain, nearly punching you on the boob. He'd be so dead. "Try this, I'll get something else if you don't like it." You grab it, inspecting the outfit.
It's a creamy, golden buttoned, silky dream of a dress shirt, coupled with clean cut black trousers; you honestly have no idea where in hell Hongjoong found this, but it works better than you thought it would. Feeling almost overdressed, you peek through the curtains for a glimpse of your best friend, catching him as he walks back to where you are, an armful of clothes in tow. So focused like this, something about his presence pushes tingles to your extremities. He's in his element, as himself as he gets, and you can't help but feel about it. What, exactly, you can't tell.
The sight of you seems to take him off guard, scrambling glances zeroing on you at once. It's not uncomfortable, as much as it's vulnerable; you don't usually put yourself in such exposing situations, even with Hongjoong. Your risks are taken in the comfort of your bedroom, or alone in a fitting room. Yet his eyes have you feeling brave enough not to hide.
"Is it okay?" Not shying away from his judgement, you ask. He shakes his head, still a bit lost in his own bemusement. It lingers, though, eyes and thoughts that stretch until it snaps.
"No, no, I like it! You look really elegant, and the– the cut is very– yeah , very flattering…" The blabbing dies down under your gaze; he sets the other clothing items onto the little ottoman by his knees, walking over to you. "What do you think?"
"It might need a belt, maybe? Some jewelry?" You try. Although you're not completely lost when it comes to fashion, talking about it with an actual fashion designer is like taking the SATs all over again. He smiles, you give in. "C'mon, I'm your made up girlfriend, just dress me however you want."
"But that's no fun!" Hongjoong whines, shaking you by the shoulders. The smile that blooms slowly in face of his antics is secretly endeared. "You'll look great, I promise. Now let's get you some shoes."
You've done this a million times.
Sitting across the mirror, however, has your face looking back in barely concealed nausea. You're nothing to brag about, no matter how much you joke with Hongjoong; he's perfectly capable of finding a hot model to accompany him and awe his ex classmates. If he wasn't such a shit at lying, you bet that's exactly what he'd do, and you'd be so jealous of both. Instead, you blink back whatever tears might threaten ruining your makeup, reaching to grab yourself a brush and get started.
Fearing a nervous mistake, you settle for something lighter, dewier than you often go for, all golden accents and sheer lipgloss. Staring at your reflection, your brain locks in a determined mindset: even if it's not that great, you'll make it enough.
Hongjoong rings your doorbell surprisingly early, and in the midst of struggling to button up your shirt and open the door at the same time, you have the very wind knocked out of you by the sight.
Hongjoong is gorgeous , and you objectively know that, or at least you tell yourself you've actually seen him in this light, but the sudden new level of realization makes it so hard for you to take your eyes off of him. They linger by his white blouse, on the way his vest's collar dips below his chest; you don't have to check to see the KHJ logo on it. And his embroidered trousers contrast so well with the elegant blazer cutting across his body, you just can't help it.
Just another glance , your mind promises, just another taste.
"What?" The sharp tone of his question has you backpedaling a mile. What indeed, you ask yourself. And maybe the ease to just think out loud around him has your mouth running.
"You're fucking hot–" The sound of your hand slapping your mouth shut is deafening, and so is the blush rushing up your neck. Hongjoong laughs it right off, a funny face in place that does nothing to quell the pull his beauty suddenly exerts on you. You move to slap him upside the head, suddenly taking notice of a whole lot of chest his unbuttoned shirt doesn't bother to cover. What the fuck . "Shut up!"
Power walking back to your room, you reach for your trousers, quickly slipping them on as Hongjoong follows behind. Pants aren't that popular in your household and he's okay with that.
"Y/N, c'mon! You have a great personality!" His laugh gets to you before he ever does, the endearing sound pushed from his chest. Honest to god terrified of the sudden awareness of his attractiveness, you turn away from him. “I can’t believe it only took you seven years to admit that I'm hot!” Groaning, the realization that he is entirely out of your league ignites each breath you take.
"You're a horrible person, no wonder you're single!" Quipping back is easy, so you don't deny yourself the familiarity. He laughs again, leaning on your doorway to watch you clasp your belt. He must notice your excessive fumbling, because his approach changes immediately.
"What do you mean single? Am I not taking a hot date to my high school reunion?" Always the appeasing force, Hongjoong comes to you, open arms always ready to comfort, and whatever Pavlov’ed reaction you have to that particular tone has you spilling unnecessary crap on the already awkward situation. A miserable little shrug and suddenly you can’t look him in the eye, shame licking your makeup covered cheeks.
“I’m an alright date at best.” You mumble, watching his face go impossibly soft. Moving to look for earrings, you try to sound less unsure than you are. When he shakes his head, you push right back. “You’re around hot models all the time, don’t act like I’m not the downgrade of the century.”
Talking about insecurities isn’t new, nor easy for either of you, yet it still happens once in a blue moon. Because you already know how hard it is for him to be confident in his work, and he’s already caught on that you don’t see anything much when you look in the mirror. You don’t have to say all the words anymore; you know, he knows.
“Says who? You’re beautiful, love.” Smiling satisfied at the unimpressed look you turn to give him, he elaborates, coming to hug you in extra reassurance. If you hold onto him for a bit longer, you don’t tell. “I’m trying something different tonight, don’t be a hater.”
“The things I do for you.” You fake annoyance, his face scrunches mid smile. In a bout of affection, you smooch his nose, leaving a shiny mark where your lipgloss has transferred.
This will have to do.
The reception hall is surprisingly neat when Hongjoong takes you inside, blue and white decorations catching your eye as you wait to be let in. Nervous and surprisingly curious, you grab his arm, promising yourself to be the sweetest, most attentive fake date this party’s ever seen. If he can't bring a supermodel, he can have the next best thing.
As you’re finally led through the doors, greeting acquaintances left and right, a couple of heads immediately turn to watch you and Hongjoong. You know right then who they are by the way their eyes move, hungry for a flaw, a misstep. Being told the story pales in comparison to what it actually feels like to experience those glances, and a protectiveness you never expected burns hot in your gut.
If they think they can intimidate you, they are sorely mistaken.
“Hongjoong, hey, come sit with us!” He nervously looks over to you, and just for the sake of showing off, you smile and nod, placing a kiss on his cheek. He smiles a half-hearted warning.
“They won’t know what hit them.” The secret mean look in your eyes seems to get him to stand a bit taller, prouder. You promise to make those bastards’ nights a nightmare.
“It’s nice to see everyone again! How have you been?” Hongjoong seems to test the waters, you politely nod alongside him before taking a seat. The tone seems to have everyone smug, comfortably babbling about the nice place they decided on. “This is my girlfriend Y/N, I don’t think you’ve met her yet.”
“I’ve heard so much about you! Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t.” Putting on your best lovebird smile on, you affectionately bump cheeks with your best friend. The discomfort spreads out like a wave, happiness like a bad smell they try to conceal a reaction to. “He’s been really busy with work but I made sure to drag him so I could meet everyone!”
“Oh, right, you’re still playing dress up, aren’t you?” A long faced man, Hansung if your memory is to be trusted, doesn’t miss the opportunity to joke. This time, the laughter is more genuine, a random hand coming over to nudge Hongjoong’s arm. You do your best to smile politely, coming closer to stage whisper to the table.
“I think that if you saw his paycheck, you’d all want to play too.” Laughing at the sudden shock on everyone's faces, you feel on the top of the world. You know they're probably fantasizing about setting you ablaze, and the fake politeness they use to hide the fact makes it so much better; you'll beat them in their own game. "But do tell, what do you guys do for a living?"
It's enough for them to realize that their usual attempts at belittling Hongjoong aren't going to fly anymore. The conversation becomes surprisingly civil for a while, and one of the men's pair, a petite, soft spoken woman named Hayoung finally feels comfortable while talking to you.
"I'm always worried when they meet up," She confesses, sad and apologetic. "I always feel so sorry for your boyfriend."
"It's okay now," You reach for her hand, giving it a squeeze before sneaking a glance to a much brighter Hongjoong busy making conversation. "I'll take care of him." Because you feel like you failed him, that you never looked close enough at the horrible times he's spent around these people he wants to impress so badly. You promise yourself to be a better friend.
"Ah, you're a good one." She smiles, you shrug in mischief. "He's lucky." You shake your head.
"Trust me, I'm the lucky one."
"How much did you pay her?" The drunk slurring is unmistakable; all the heads at the table turn to a very drunk Hansung, some eyes alight at the prospect of messy entertainment. It makes you sick to your stomach. "You can tell us, she's clearly not your girlfriend."
" What ?" Trembling hand desperately searching for yours under the table, Hongjoong stammers. The people from the other tables are starting to pay attention to the commotion. "What do you mean she's not my girlfriend?"
"You guys know I'm right! No woman in her right mind would look at his fruity ass and think 'ah, that's the one I want' !" He guffaws. Scandalized laughter bursts slowly as the polite facade cracks and cracks.
He was doing so well.
"I know your type, Do Hansung." Your voice cuts through the building scene like a shard of glass. "Hongjoong might be too kind to say something but I'm not. Stay in your lane. "
"Babe, it's okay." He tries, hand squeezing yours. You feel your entire body buzz with indignation at the sight of his defeat. "He's just drunk."
"No, no, let her speak! Let's hear what the bitch has to say!" The whispering doesn't phase you, but it seems to bother the others at the table. You hope they're dying of shame. You quickly signal for Hayoung to take a trip to the bathroom; things are about to get ugly. "How much are you being paid to defend this joke?"
"You think you can intimidate everyone so you can feel all high and mighty, don't you? Gives you that nice rush." Hand intertwined with Hongjoong's, you bring it to your lips in comfort to his subtle shaking. "I have sat at this table for hours and yet I still can't think of one good thing to say about you. Being a bully is all you have, isn't it? You couldn't even break out the table manners for the special occasion." Cold, sharp, tearing through his character in a fierceness you never thought you had, you shut his mouth for good. You eye the others for a moment, then get up, pulling Hongjoong with you. They'll never hurt him again. "You're all so small and miserable, I can't even feel pity."
The bite of sudden cold hits you all at once as you finally step out onto the sidewalk. All the anger seems to boil over, your knees giving out under you; you're left weeping, crouched against a streetlight. Hongjoong rushes to you, a worry you can't see on a face you've seen in so many ways in these past few days.
"I'm so sorry he said those things to you." His voice is soft, but heavy with concern. You laugh at the thought of being affected by scum.
"You think I give a shit about those pigs?" You look up, reaching out your hand to hold his face. The way he's so okay with being hurt settles in your stomach like a bag of rocks. "Why didn't you tell me they treated you like this?" Softly, so painfully powerless to change what has already happened, you ask him.
The sudden realization hits him so hard you can physically see it land across his face. It seems to you that only then does he see himself there, his feelings about the whole ordeal. Next thing you know his face is buried in your neck, sobs shaking through you as he grips tightly on the silk of your shirt.
" I was so ashamed." He grits out, voice raw unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Much like a storm, his feelings build and build through the words. "I feel so pathetic all the time." You pull him closer, impossibly so, for your embrace is all you can give.
"They're nothing, you hear me? They're grime under your fucking shoe." Your sharp words caress what your sweetness could never reach, soothe where you were never allowed to look. Hongjoong takes a deep, grounding breath. Sharing a burden is the same for objects and memories. "Don't ever let those people tell you what you're worth because they'll always lie to feel better about themselves." He nods, but neither of you move to get up, and you don't think you could, ankles burning under you. It doesn't matter.
"Thank you for being there with me." Voice so small, Hongjoong sounds more like himself than you thought he could. You kiss the top of his hair, arms rubbing his back.
"Always." You mumble, holier than a promise. " Always ."
"What a night!" Hongjoong laughs, dropping on the couch with a dull thump. You look over from where you're still struggling out of your boots, watching him mess whatever is left of his makeup by rubbing his eyes. "Let's never do this again, please." You laugh on your way to the kitchen.
"You talk like it wasn't your idea." Opening the fridge, you look for something to drink. Hongjoong laughs in disbelief, shrugging off his blazer before walking over to you.
"Because it wasn't! Stop projecting." He grabs one of the caprisun bags from your hand, hopping onto the kitchen island. You fix him with an unamused glare until he caves. "Fifty-fifty, take it or leave it." He says, slurping on his juice like you both haven’t shared such an intimate moment an hour before. You enjoy the lack of awkwardness.
"Fair enough." The silence stretches enough for your thoughts to recalibrate, and the feelings of being attracted to your best friend come crashing down on you as you watch his side profile.
At first you thought it might've been the makeup, the clothes you don't often see him in, but now he's a mess and a half in your kitchen and it still pulls you in. You and your stupid brain fucked up big this time. Without noticing, your eyes linger, hungry for details you never paid any mind to before.
"So I really am hot huh?" Hongjoong speaks, you almost jump out of your skin.Taking in your confusion, he explains. "You've been staring for like five minutes."
"Yeah." It's almost comical how his mischief crumbles into something a lot more lost, caught off guard. The temperature of the room seems to increase with each passing second. "Is it weird?"
"Is what weird?"
"That I suddenly end up staring?" Eyes on him, always on him, you catch something so close to anticipation you need to pry yourself from his vicinity. To him, you’re probably just disposing of your empty juice packet.
"I don't know, Y/N, why are you staring?" Static builds and builds and you feel insane for feeling it alone. You are alone in this, right? Barely able to breathe, you reply.
"Because–" Because looking is all I can do , your brain supplies, something akin to realization hitting you like a punch. This is so, so bad. You can’t say it, there is no way. "I like your hair, these days." All you can do is cop out, like the coward you are. Not a word out of your mouth is trusted, and you know by the way Hongjoong's eyes linger waiting for more, for you to cave in for once. Body burning to confess you want to do more than stare, you keep your mouth shut.
He drops it, because of course he does, nodding before heading to your bathroom to take a quick shower. Walking back to your bedroom, you get rid of the jewelry and most of the makeup your crying couldn't destroy.
You sit there, eyes on your reflection but mind down a rabbit hole.
While you don't regret being there for him, you regret being exposed to certain ideas of Hongjoong since that day at the café, if not before that.
He's got you wondering how he's like on actual dates, when he's in love. If it hits soft or sharp when he glances across the room and you realize he wants you.
All those musings, those harmless theories, and when you're confronted about your reactions, all there's left to do is run. No news is better than bad news.
You stare up at the expanse of Hongjoong's back from your place on the floor of the balcony. He's still there, an everlasting mountain in your landscape, but now getting to him seems to take longer. You both need to get used to this new dynamic, you suppose, closing your eyes under the rising sun.
The thing about going back to your routine after your bond with Hongjoong has started to change is that you can't tell what he's thinking anymore. Maybe you never could. Taking a step closer is also realizing there are more steps to be taken.
Hongjoong is stiffer than usual, and you wonder if he's not an indicator of change himself; maybe it's normal for your eyes to linger when his do the same. Maybe this is just a bigger, sturdier home for your friendship, and if it has secrets hidden in the basement, you can't really be blamed.
The weather is surprisingly good, sun eating away at the shadows of the railing. Your creeping anxiety remains out of spite.
Hongjoong comes to you with the coolness of the shade he casts on your form, sitting across from you. He doesn't look up from the little leaf he's picking at, but you suspect it's to not spook you away.
"I know you don't want to talk about it now," There's a certain assertiveness to Hongjoong's character that you haven't seen before; you hope you're growing alongside him instead of just watching him chase the sunlight alone. "I just want you to know that you can tell me anything, especially now."
"There's not–" You struggle with your words. A pause, then, frustration soothed by the consistency of his hands. "I can't just say what I want to say and be at peace while everything goes to shit, Joong. You know I'm not like that."
"You can't choke on whatever it is forever either. It's not like you." Just like that, he smiles; you're caught. "I'm not telling you to say it now, I'm just saying that you don't have to hide behind excuses with me."
"No judgement?" Testing the waters, you take note of the way he perks up ever so slightly, scooting closer.
"Nope." And there, in the aftermath of a horribly cathartic night, you catch his eyes for the first time in forever, hiding behind his bangs every time the wind blows. Breath weighing a ton, you allow yourself to be closer. Just a little more, you promise, and then a little more, and a little more.
You hope he understands what you mean when you draw your face closer, such a fragile movement that a harsher breeze would have it crumbling to dust. He only breathes back at you, chlorophyll staining the inside of his balled fist.
"I just really like the idea of kissing you lately."
Lips slotted together, you can finally breathe again; sighing alongside Hongjoong is a bit of a religious experience. A warm hold pulls you closer into him by the nape, a mindless touch that sends wildfire skittering over your skin. It burns hotter than ever, yet you find that you don't mind it, palms on his sides in an attempt to feel your way into his thoughts.
Settling down onto his thighs, you sink deeper and deeper in the way he takes your want so willingly, so you give until you have nothing left, licking into his upper lip as he gasps in anticipation before kissing him again. His arm finds your middle, the sudden weight pushing you against his chest has goosebumps peppering your body like rain. The scent of him, the warmth he emanates; it soothes your restless mind in ways you could never do on your own.
With a smacking little sound, Hongjoong pulls back, face the epitome of bliss as he looks at you. For the first time in your life, you're okay with the thought of being looked at from so close.
"Can't say I've never thought about it either." His breath hits your mouth, eyes full of nameless wishes. You dive right back to him; a tad rougher, more confident, hands moving to grab onto his hair. He sighs and grunts and gasps and you drink it all.
In the dark of your bedroom, you catch yourself staring again.
The incarnadine of his mussed hair doesn't shy away from your eyes despite the cold white light coming from the window. The slope of his nose seems stunning in a completely different way when outlined by the streetlights, the long line of his lashes resting on his cheeks so gently.
"Is there even anything you haven't already seen at this point?" He grunts, voice hoarse from sleep. "I'm not that interesting."
"There's always something." Chin propped on your hand, you can't help but smile. "You're beautiful."