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The first time it happens is, honestly, hilarious. Yunho watches Hongjoong’s face turn almost purple as their waitress apologizes for the fifth time in under a minute. If a record existed for most penitent bows under a time constraint, surely she’d broken it several times over. His back twinged in sympathy watching her hunch over at speed.
“It’s okay,” Hongjoong finally chokes out, after Yunho had to physically hold down laughter by gnawing his own fist. “It’s--uh--the gesture is nice and I’m not mad, I promise, we’re just not a couple.”
“I’m so, so sorry, sirs! You guys were just so--” Her eyes get big again and she squeezes her mouth shut. Hongjoong very deliberately places his face in his cupped hands. “Um. A-anyway the dessert is free. Please don’t leave a bad review.”
Yunho stares at the glorious mound of chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate, and kicks Hongjoong’s ankles under the table before he talks long enough to get it taken away. “Thank you. This looks awesome.”
She leaves in near tears while Yunho plucks the large white chocolate heart from the top of the molten ice cream cake to cut in half so he and Hongjoong can share.
“She’s gone. You can stop trying to play turtle now,” he says and drops the chippy half-heart to Hongjoong’s extra plate.
Hongjoong only whines into the seam of his hands. “She thought we were dating!”
“So?”
“So? You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” Yunho scoops a huge forkful of brown cake and watches the creamy half-melted ice cream erupt from the center. “It's a free dessert, dude, just go with it.”
“Are you not the littlest bit concerned as to why she came to that conclusion?” Hongjoong asks dubiously, but he’s already nibbling on the chocolate heart so Yunho supposes the point is moot anyway.
“Not really.”
“No?”
Yunho shrugs. The cake is soft and the chocolate topping is hot and the milky innards are still kind of cold so the whole thing sticks to his teeth. He’d pay more for less buying a Hershey bar on the way home. “Does it matter? At least this way we know of one not homophobic restaurant in town. That should count for something.”
“It counts for dick,” Hongjoong mutters, stuffing the rest of the chocolate in his mouth and stabbing at the remainder of the cake before Yunho can get any ideas about eating the whole thing without his help. “This is actually pretty good.”
“Right?” Yunho happily licks his fork. Totally worth the potential cavities. “Maybe we should pretend to be a couple for free food more often.”
“Not on your life.” Hongjoong plops the single stemmed cherry onto Yunho's plate. “Here, you eat this.”
Yunho shyly bites his lip and mimes swooning. “Is this a metaphor? Are you propositioning me on our first date? My, how forward, Mr. Darcy!”
“Fuck off.”
-----------------
The next time it happens they’ve gotten a rare night off when everyone in their group can get together and get riotously drunk in preparation for the hellscape of back to back performances and press junkets and media appearances. Seonghwa had shown up on San’s arm from the liquor run, already tipsy on a half-empty bottle of soju he’d started on the walk over, and thrust a glitter covered hand across Hongjoong’s cheeks as payback for last week when Hongjoong put a lime wedge in his underwear.
No one knows where the glitter came from aside from San, who only mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key when pressed. Even when Yeosang had put him in a headlock and roped Wooyoung into tickling San’s sides.
“This is elder abuse,” Hongjoong tells him. Again. He’s been repeating the same phrase over and over again since tequila shot number five. “I have rights!”
“Maybe next time you won’t stick fruit in other people’s pants without their consent.” Yunho scrubs fruitlessly at Hongjoong’s cheek. The glitter stays mostly in place in defiance of his efforts to help his friend get clean.
“Jongho dared me.”
“Jongho is a bad influence.”
Hongjoong snorts. “He’s too young to be any kind of influence. I’m his elder. Is the glitter gone yet?”
Hongjoong kicks his feet idly on either side of Yunho’s hips. He’d propped himself on the edge of the bathroom counter and demanded service and, really, who was Yunho to deny him?
“Not yet.” Yunho cups Hongjoong’s chin with one hand to keep him still. The shitty brown paper towels management stocked in their bathroom dispenser seem to do little more than move the specks around. He does not point out that Jongho is only barely younger than any one of them, mostly in preemptive defense of his vulnerable kneecaps. “What the hell did Seonghwa use for this stuff? Super glue?”
Hongjoong hiccups. “I’ll get him back.”
“You’re going to start a war you can’t win.”
“Nuh-uh. I'm very clever.”
Yunho swallows down his laughter. Tipsy verging on drunk Hongjoong is one of his favorites because his friend loses that weird must-always-be-professional edge and loosens up. And he lets the other group members get cuddly when otherwise he’d be dodging their advances with a judo chop at the air or a foot to the face.
“You might actually have to shower to get this off,” Yunho says after finally giving up. “That shit isn’t budging, Hong-ah.”
Hongjoong pouts at him. “I don’t want a shower. I want a drink.” He hiccups again. “And payback.”
“You might have to settle for just the drink then.” Yunho pats Hongjoong’s thighs. “You still okay? Not too drunk?”
Hongjoong blinks at him, squinting a little. “I’m fine.” His warm fingers caress Yunho’s cheek down to his neck in one smooth motion Yunho can track down to his toes. He chalks that up to the aftereffects of tequila shot number three. "You need to quit trying to take care of everyone all the time.”
“I don’t--”
“You do,” Hongjoong says vehemently, both hands on Yunho’s shoulders now. “You always worry about everyone but yourself even when you’re hurting worse than they are.” His friend and leader squints one-eyed at him. “How are you doing, Yunho?”
Overwhelmed and feeling a little too tenderhearted in the confines of this bathroom, Yunho opens his mouth to say--god, he doesn’t even know, but he’s saved by the door slamming open and Mingi stumbling in with a slurred, “Quit making out so I can piss, please and thank you.”
“We weren’t making out,” Hongjoong whines. “Put your dick back in your pants!”
Mingi ignores him to hover over the toilet, one hand on the wall, sighing in blissful relief. Hongjoong claims his eyeballs -- “And my earballs!” “Hyung, you don’t have earballs.” -- are now unclean and demands another round of shots to cleanse them, running out of the bathroom before Yunho can stop him.
Mingi looks over as he adjusts himself. “Sorry, I tried to give you two as much time as possible, but some of us have bladders.”
“I was just helping him get glitter off his face.”
Mingi stares at him. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
-----------------
"Is anyone else getting weird fundamentalist cult family vibes from these outfits?" San pulls at the stark white button down and light wash denim the stylist team had put them all in for the latest shoot. "Or like, maybe we should be trying to sell essential oils to yoga moms?"
"Join my downline and you could be making millions by the end of the year," Wooyoung quips, already tugging cajolingly at the bottom hem of San’s shirt. "Come on, San! We can boss babe our way into megamillions as a team."
Yunho ignores both of them, because listening to San and Wooyoung trying to one up each other's pyramid scheme sales pitch is threatening to kill his few remaining brain cells not destroyed by the crate of alcohol brought in last night for celebratory new album purposes. Yeosang looks as if he's going to shove a sock in their mouths soon and save him the trouble anyway.
“I’m dying,” Seonghwa says, gravel rough, and leans his full weight against Yunho’s side. “Remind me not to challenge Jongho to a drinking contest ever again.”
The maknae is bouncing around the camera setup kicking up sand and bothering the photography team for tips. He is unfairly pink cheeked and bright-eyed, no apparent hangover in sight.
Yunho pats Seonghwa’s head soothingly. “Brought that one on yourself.”
Seonghwa only grunts in reply and shoves his huge oversized sunglasses back in place.
Hongjoong finds them moments later with a loud, “Get your mitts off my new partner, ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife?” Yunho questions.
Seonghwa makes a very put upon and long-suffering sigh. “Soobin.”
“That homewrecker,” Hongjoong agrees. He tugs Yunho away by the elbow and wraps his arms around Yunho’s torso like a defensive barrier. “Shoo.”
“The Soobin thing is just a stupid rumor! You didn’t even care until it turned into a meme!”
“Is it a meme or is it just the truth,” Hongjoong points a finger accusingly at Seonghwa’s nose. “Wooyoung told me Yeonjun made you guys a wedding album!”
“You are literally the worst person I know,” Seonghwa says feelingly.
“Thank you,” Hongjoong replies, just as sincere, all while using Yunho as their weird post-marital buffer zone.
“What’s this about a new partner,” Yunho asks just to change the subject.
Hongjoong pauses mid-gripe to grin up at him. “They’re pairing you and me up for the beach pics. I came to get your input on our poses.”
At the time, Yunho thought their choices were cute. Two friends hanging out on the beach, piggyback rides and follow the leader type poses included, and a labrador in the mix because dogs rule even though those had been nixed at the eleventh hour to squeeze in an extra spread for the eight of them toward the credits page. He didn’t expect it to turn into a…well.
“They look like newlyweds posing for honeymoon pictures. Congrats to the new couple,” Seonghwa reads out viciously in the middle of the common area where Hongjoong has curled up like a pillbug in Yeosang’s lap. “How’s that for a dating rumor, huh? You guys skipped right over into marriage.”
“I think it’s cute,” Mingi offers.
“And I think they’re right,” Wooyoung says casually. “You guys look married as all hell. Who came up with the over the shoulder hand holding?”
Hongjoong makes a dying noise in his throat that Yeosang shushes with an affectionate pat to the back. Seonghwa continues to crow victory in the background while texting someone at speed.
Jongho and San not so secretly exchange money. Yunho glares at them. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” San says sweetly. “How was the honeymoon?”
“Should we expect a pregnancy announcement soon?” Jongho continues like the little shit that he is. “Was it a shotgun wedding?”
“I hate all of you so much,” Hongjoong says against Yeosang’s legs.
Yunho pouts even though Hongjoong can’t see it. “Even me?”
“Especially you.”
“Dang.”
“Yeonjun says Soobin is making noise about ordering matching couple tuxes,” Wooyoung drawls. “Seonghwa, what’s your inseam?”
Seonghwa smiles beatifically. “None of your business.”
“Aw!”
-----------------
Yunho doesn’t really want to admit it, but watching Hongjoong film his rap part for the new music video does things to him. His face gets tingly, his ears go hot, his head buzzes with white noise that sounds a lot like a long drawn out oh that goes nowhere.
His only consolation is that Wooyoung doesn’t appear to fare much better.
“He’s so hot,” Wooyoung whispers after the clapperboard slams shut and Hongjoong drops to his knees to cringe against the tarmac. “Yunho. Dude . What the fuck?”
“Don’t objectify hyung, you know he doesn’t like it,” Yunho whispers back. Still though. Damn.
Hongjoong catches them looking and arches a brow. Yunho just shoots him a series of increasingly obnoxious finger hearts until he laughs. Wooyoung groans.
“You’re a lucky bastard, you know that right?”
He blinks, confused. “What? Why?”
Wooyoung claps a hand to his shoulder. “You know why,” he says cryptically and wanders off, presumably to harass Yeosang about his biceps again.
Hongjoong joins him just outside the taped off area of the set, nervous sweat clinging to his forehead. “I really hate filming scenes by myself. My nerves are shot.”
“Well I think you looked cool,” Yunho reassures him. “Our talented all-rounder Hongjoong PD-nim.”
Hongjoong grins bashfully, his teeth barely peeking over the edge of his bottom lip, and he lightly punches Yunho in the arm. “You don’t have to butter me up.”
“I was just stating facts.”
“Hmm.” Hongjoong fans himself. “They want me to film that part two more times. Are you going to watch?”
“Do you want me to?”
Hongjoong glances away, his ears blazing red even under the makeup. “Maybe.”
Yunho’s chest warms. He says, “Then I’ll be here,” without really thinking. He doesn’t think when Hongjoong grins again, smaller this time -- more secretive -- and goes back to his starting position. His next steps are fierce and calculated, his expression intense, Hongjoong is one long line of dark heat and sex appeal as he mouths the words to the song.
A harried member of staff finds him still rooted to the spot minutes later, his brain still blanking out, telling him they need him in the car lot for the big ending number. Hongjoong comes running not far behind and monkeys himself around Yunho's neck until Yunho picks him up and swings him around a few times to shake the nerves out.
Wooyoung mouths lucky at him from across the room.
-----------------
Yunho has lost count of how many times he’s replayed Hongjoong’s catwalk in his head and at this point has fully realized he may have a problem and has endeavored to solve it by being as absent in the dorm as humanly possible. Yeosang finds him hiding out in the gym a week later, just two days before comeback schedules start and who knows how many weeks since filming ended.
“Yunho,” he says.
Yunho pretends not to hear him over his earbuds and ups the pace on the treadmill.
Yeosang bumps it back down. “Come back to the dorm.”
He stops running, dropping down to a light walk to address his group mate. “What do you want, Yeosang?”
“Come back home,” Yeosang repeats. “You’ve been at the gym or in the dance hall every day this week for hours .”
“I’m only trying to stay limber,” Yunho complains. “What’s happening at the dorm that’s so important?”
“Hongjoong.”
Yunho’s heart freezes, stumbles over itself, and starts beating overtime. “What about him? Is he demanding board game night again? Because the last time we tried to play Yahtzee, Jongho--”
“Hongjoong thinks he’s done something to you to drive you away and is upset about it. He’s not even pretending to be pissy over Seonghwa calling Soobin in their room anymore,” Yeosang says over him with a frown. He reaches over and kills the treadmill totally. “Look, I don’t pretend to understand how your relationship works--”
“There is no relationship,” Yunho yelps. “We aren’t dating!”
Yeosang hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“I think I would know if we were.”
“Jongho said--”
“Jongho is a bad, evil person who enjoys lying to you for fun,” Yunho points out. “Ask Wooyoung.”
Yeosang rolls his eyes. “I was going to say Jongho said he found Hongjoong curled up in one of your hoodies on the couch in his studio last night and we’ve all decided to stage an intervention if you don’t do something about it soon. Like, Wednesday morning by 9 AM soon.”
“Which hoodie?”
“That’s not important.”
“Was it the yellow one?” His face feels hot, his skin tight. Yunho reaches up to cup his mouth to find he’s been grinning like a fool, probably for the duration of this conversation. “Wait, why did he have my hoodie? I didn’t give it to him.”
“Why does anyone have anything,” Yeosang blithely replies. “Seriously, get off the hoodie thing and go kiss your boyfriend or whatever you guys are. It’s getting weird. Even Seonghwa says so, and that guy has been trying to unsubtly get Soobin to send him outfit pictures so they can coordinate social media posts so the rumor mill stays moving.”
“We’re really not dating,” Yunho feels compelled to remind him for form’s sake if nothing else. Yeosang throws his arms up with an aggrieved noise and stomps off to bench press the equivalent of a football stadium because he’s insane and his new muscles are terrifying.
Yunho heads for the showers.
-----------------
Hongjoong isn’t in the dorm. He’s not in his studio. He’s not in the dance hall, the communal kitchen, or the conference room they bogart for filming VLives sometimes and he’s not in any of the usual haunts between the dorm and the studio spaces.
If it turns out they’ve been playing a giant unknowing game of keep away, he’s going to be pissed. And then he’s going to think about why he’s trying to find Hongjoong and have to go calm down by pressing his face against the nearest flat surface to pray for strength.
Yunho texts him five times in under an hour. He calls him at the beginning of the second.
“Where are you?”
Hongjoong’s voice is somewhat muffled through the receiver. “My studio? The desk finally came in so I’m trying to put it together.”
“I just went by your studio and you weren’t there.”
“Oh, I was probably hanging out with Maddox. He got a bunch of new equipment I was trying out while the movers dragged the box in. Sorry, I didn’t notice your texts until I got back, I left my phone on my laptop.”
Yunho drags a hand down his face. Of course, of course . “So you’re alone?”
“Yes?”
“Good, don’t move.”
He ends the call in the middle of Hongjoong’s confused, “What? Why?” and takes off at a sprint. It’s a five minute walk. He's pretty sure he can shave into two if he runs, and if there’s a chance Hongjoong still has his hoodie--
“You look like you’re about to have a stroke,” Hongjoong informs him in the doorway. He’s wearing his own clothes, none of Yunho’s clothes in sight unless he’d gone the disturbing route and stolen his underwear or something. “Are you alright? Do I need to find you a cold pack? A priest?”
“I’m fine,” Yunho rasps, bent double over his knees. “Yeosang had a talk with me earlier.”
Hongjoong is helpfully holding his shirt up and away from his skin and trying to fan his neck to help cool him down. Which is sweet, but really all it’s doing is making Yunho’s blood pressure spike and his neck hot.
“And that meant running to find me?”
“Yes,” he says vehemently. “Where’s my hoodie?”
The fanning stops. Hongjoong clears his throat twice before it takes and he says, garbled, “What hoodie?”
“I don’t know, Yeosang didn’t say.” Yunho straightens and catches his hand before Hongjoong can run off. “What he did say is that we’re supposed to be kissing and making up because I made you sad somehow.”
Hongjoong’s eyes get wide. The bridge of his nose takes on a rosy hue that spreads outward to his cheeks. He laughs high pitched. “What the hell?”
“I told him we weren’t actually dating.”
Hongjoong stops laughing. “Right.”
“What hoodie did you steal from my wardrobe?”
Hongjoong’s shoulders hunch.
“The yellow one because it’s comfy,” he says defensively. “I can put a layer on underneath without everything bunching up and San said you don’t wear it anymore anyway.”
Yunho’s breath turns choppy and overexcited. His grip on Hongjoong’s fingers gets slippery with flop sweat beading up along his palms. “You want to go get food? I hear there’s a place in town that gives out free molten chocolate to couples if they act cute enough.”
“But we’re not a couple.”
Yunho licks his lips nervously. “Would you like to be?”
Hongjoong’s mouth opens and closes a few times. Yunho isn’t really sure if that’s a good sign or not, until Hongjoong silently closes the door to his studio and turns towards the elevators. Yunho swings their linked hands happily the entire way.
“Do I get your cherry this time, too?”
“No cherries on the first date,” Hongjoong denies primly. “But ask me again after promotions are done.”
Yunho doesn’t get Hongjoong’s cherry that night, metaphorical or otherwise, but he does end up unceremoniously tugged into an alcove between two buildings on the trip back so Hongjoong can steal a kiss or twelve, and they make it back home with swollen mouths and permanent blushes on their cheeks. Yunho sports a suspicious red mark on the curve of his jaw for two days after.
“I should have demanded a prenup,” Seonghwa says, months later, sprawled out across Hongjoong and Yunho’s legs like he owns real estate there. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me.”
Hongjoong pats Seonghwa's face obnoxiously flat handed and shitty. “You cheated first, dearest.”
“For the last time, that was a joke! A meme! Funny, ha ha!”
Yunho drops his chin to Hongjoong’s shoulder, where he does own real estate, and holds up his phone. “Wooyoung did say Yeonjun is already planning the anniversary decorations for your six month milestone.”
“You’re as bad as each other,” Seonghwa bemoans. “I regret encouraging Yeosang to unstick your head from your ass, Yunho.”
“I bet,” he drawls, and drops a kiss to Hongjoong’s cheek mostly to watch him cringe and shove his knees uncomfortably into Seonghwa's back. “At least I got your ex-husband out of it.”
Seonghwa yells, “Hey!” while Hongjoong laughs, bright and open and happy. Yunho grins back.
And his .