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'What're you doing ten years from now?'
Hongjoong's question echoes like ambient waves rippling across the ocean's surface. The question grates with jarring dissonance during dance practice. It follows Seonghwa home as he cooks a ridiculous amount of tteokbokki for the group, but hardly eats any himself. The question whispers in his ear when Hongjoong rests his head on Seonghwa's shoulder, and everyone argues over the logistics of Tenet during another rewatch.
Now laying silently in bed, the question reverberates loudly. Decibels climb to strident volumes, and claw at eardrums until all other noise incinerates into white static. With adrenaline eroding away, the built up exhaustion sinks heavily into Seonghwa's bones. Every aching muscle in his body pleads for Seonghwa to fall asleep. But his mind races at the speed of light, and splinters into nerve-wracking tangents. Every atom of his being vibrates as if moments away from catching on fire.
Countless videos show ATEEZ spontaneously falling asleep in random places. Even if there's only a minute to catch up on rest, their eyes fall shut, and they knock out cold. Seonghwa's in plenty of those online compilations. He's prone to fall asleep even while standing and leaning back against the wall. It's a rare blessing that tomorrow's a day off. When there's no need to head out the door before sunrise, everyone can sleep in, and take a breather.
So, of course, anxiety decides tonight's perfect for throwing a raging party inside Seonghwa's ribcage. His body hosts the unwanted rave although there isn't enough room for the chaotic hurricane of molten fears and calcifying organs. The heavy, thudding bass of Seonghwa's panicking heart shakes his skeleton until bone after bone breaks off. Every inhale invites rusted nails and bitter ashes into his mouth. Razor ends scrape along the inside of his throat, and puncture his weary lungs.
If Seonghwa's alone, he'll succumb to the soaring panic, and let it tear apart every breath. After shadow boxing an unseen enemy for years, Seonghwa wonders in quiet despair if this is a lose-lose fight. Part of Seonghwa struggles with accepting that anxiety won't be erased by debuting, being an idol, and growing up with an amazing group that's his found family.
But the rest of Seonghwa knows that sharing a body with this faceless ghost is a life sentence. Perhaps that's why Seonghwa pushes himself too far sometimes. He welcomes burning muscles after hours of dance practice rather than an invisible hand repeatedly punching his sternum. Seonghwa runs too often, too far even when the doctor warns him not to overexert himself. Stubbornly, Seonghwa tries to outrun the feral, bloodthirsty shapeshifter lurking inside of him.
But the few moments when he's alone, Seonghwa caves in. He masters the art of compressing panic attacks into silent thirty seconds in a bathroom stall. Somedays, Seonghwa can get by with less time. Hand over mouth. Close eyes tightly. Be an opossum playing dead, so what's inside doesn't try to eat him alive, and wreck havoc on everyone he loves. Before debuting, Seonghwa learns to slam pause on panic. The cameras, fans, staff, his fellow members, nobody can see even a hairline fracture in Seonghwa's composure. Inevitably, everything avalanches into the most catastrophic anxiety attack once Seonghwa's by himself.
But tonight, Seonghwa isn't alone.
Sleeping soundly, Hongjoong lays curled up against Seonghwa's side. He drapes a protective arm over Seonghwa, and nuzzles into the man's neck. Since the couple sleeps together on the lower bunk, they use the upper bed for lounging, and keeping their collection of plushes. Mostly Molangs and Ryans flood the bunk. Memories scatter in the form of photographs on the wall next to the bed. Some from Seonghwa's polaroid camera. Others from Hongjoong's DSLR. The candid pictures capture ATEEZ throughout the years. Even in the darkness, Seonghwa can map out every photograph on the wall. He can even recite the handwritten words along polaroid frames, or on the back of full image photos. Hongjoong pins these pictures right by their bed, so Seonghwa never forgets how he's loved.
Despite struggling to hold his breath steady, and keep the panic at bay, Seonghwa refuses to wake up his partner. Hongjoong works unbelievably hard for their group, and still genuinely smiles even when he's exhausted. Seonghwa's not going to fuck up the rare chance for Hongjoong to sleep at least a decent eight hours.
Exhaling shakily, Seonghwa keeps his eyes on the universe above. He doesn't know where Hongjoong gets the pack of glow-in-the-dark stars. But it's beyond endearing how Hongjoong tackles Seonghwa onto the bed, and radiates with excitement to build an universe together. They spend the night laying on their backs, and fixing stars, comets, crescent moons, and planets on the wooden planks hovering above. Hongjoong spells out "S" with little stars, which prompts Seonghwa to create a glowing "H".
As Seonghwa reaches up to trace the letters floating side-by-side, his inhale serrates. Memory whispers Hongjoong's words along the curve of his ear, and trickles down his neck. "Out of all the stars in the universe, you'll always be my favorite." The cosmos blurs into pastel, neon green mayhem as silent tears surface. Lowering his hand, Seonghwa feels his ribcage threaten to implode for reasons other than dwelling anxiety.
What the Hell has Seonghwa done to deserve this man?
Hongjoong brings stars to create constellations for him, so Seonghwa doesn't forget to look up at the sky. Like words he whispers in the comforting darkness of their bedroom, Hongjoong writes his love for Seonghwa in lyrics. Those days when Seonghwa counts too many flaws in his reflection, Hongjoong showers him with unending waves of physical affection. Random texts ranging from few sweet words to paragraphs where Hongjoong pours out his heart. Matching Kakao Friends keychains. Folded paper scraps hidden in Seonghwa's pockets, every piece carrying a happy secret. A smile just for him onstage. Ephemeral, yet brilliant and breathtaking as a shooting star blazing across the night sky.
Hongjoong gives so much.
And Seonghwa can't even answer one question.
Seonghwa's forearm crosses over his eyes, so he can't see the melting stars anymore. His hand closes, opens, closes. Inhaling through his teeth, Seonghwa fights the impulse to dig nails into palm lines.
"Babe...?"
Even when Hongjoong's voice runs rough with drowsiness, honeyed warmth spills through. Humming, Hongjoong nuzzles into Seonghwa's neck, then kisses his cheek. Hongjoong doesn't even have to be fully awake to bombard his partner with affection. Caring about Seonghwa has been in Hongjoong's nature, since their first encounter years ago. And yet, Seonghwa still remains overwhelmed by all this endless, unconditional love.
"Sorry for waking you up." Seonghwa draws his arm away from his face, and wipes at damp eyes. As his lips brush over soft hair, Seonghwa deeply breathes in the clean scent of the seaside on a rainy day. They share the same shampoo, but there's still something uniquely Hongjoong in this comforting scent. "You should go back to sleep."
"Mmm, it's okay." Hongjoong curls up even closer against his partner. "Wanna cuddle more."
Notes of fondness ring warmly in Seonghwa's soft laughter. As Seonghwa helps Hongjoong get more comfortable, he wraps his arms around the man. Hongjoong brings another laugh out of Seonghwa by gliding a freezing hand under his shirt.
"Babe-!" Seonghwa jumps from the cold touch, but still leans in closer. His laughter trails off into an elated wheeze.
Hongjoong's palm roams across the familiar planes and lines of Seonghwa's torso. He knows this contour so intimately that Hongjoong can draw Seonghwa's outline with eyes closed. "You're like a human furnace, I swear."
From their early days, Hongjoong grows a habit of warming up his cold hands on Seonghwa. If they're in public, Hongjoong molds his palms on the curves of Seonghwa's neck and shoulders. His thumb brushes over Seonghwa's dimple accompanying a shy smile. And if they're alone like tonight, Hongjoong slides his hands under Seonghwa's shirt.
It's actually one of Hongjoong's shirts, but may as well be Seonghwa's with how often he borrows it. The white fabric softens over the years from being well-worn and well-loved. Seonghwa's proud of how there isn't a single missing button, or any bit of strain on the cloth.
Hongjoong's almost drowning in Seonghwa's powder blue fleece sweater. They bought a matching pair together, but Hongjoong prefers Seonghwa's sweater over his own lilac one. Seonghwa pulls down the hem, so the oversized sweater doesn't keep riding up. He fixes the blankets as well, since Hongjoong gets cold easily.
As legs tangle, the couple revels in the brush of skin below briefs. Seonghwa feels the faint scar on Hongjoong's left calf. The jagged mark splits down mimicking a fierce lightning bolt. It's almost impossible to see, but Seonghwa's intimately familiar with the scar tissue, and the childhood stories of Hongjoong being a free-spirited kid. Always eager to explore new places, to jump over fences, to 'accidentally' miss off-limits signs.
Even now, Hongjoong embarks on spontaneous adventures by taking Seonghwa with him. Hongjoong's insatiable hunger to discover more of the world, and the starlight gleaming in his eyes never fail to seize Seonghwa's heart. It's one of those late nights when Hongjoong takes Seonghwa to a high building's rooftop, and reveals Seoul's city lights that Seonghwa's heart gasps, 'I love him.'
With how silence lulls back into the room, Seonghwa thinks Hongjoong's drifting back to sleep. Seonghwa's fingers run through rose gold strands, then gently tuck a lock behind Hongjoong's ear. He feels color and blood return to his decaying body where he touches Hongjoong. But the starving crater in his chest grows as anxiety digs leagues deeper.
The quiet breaks as Hongjoong brushes back Seonghwa's bangs, and asks, "What's on your mind?"
Seonghwa's first instinct is to reassure Hongjoong that it's nothing, just tired, don't worry, go back to sleep, and fix the blankets for the fifth time. But Hongjoong's frighteningly perceptive, so Seonghwa knows his partner won't let this go easily.
Above all else, Seonghwa doesn't want to stay closed off from his fellow members, especially his partner. He spends most of his life masquerading as a locked safe with a broken combination. Or maybe Seonghwa forgets the secret code that unlocks this vault. The temptation to rebuild a fortress always dwells in the back of Seonghwa's mind. Intricate blueprints exist within reach. A plethora of eager demons line up to be architects and carpenters.
But Seonghwa won't revert into a half-asleep, half-dead caricature of himself. Here's Hongjoong breaking the crucible with his bare hands, and reaching through fire for Seonghwa. Even with trembling fingers, Seonghwa takes that hand, and trusts Hongjoong's promise of how they won't crumble into embers and cinders.
"I was thinking about your question." Seonghwa gazes into amorphous shadows as if the abyss will play him like a ventriloquist doll. His fingers compose shapes on Hongjoong's thigh. Five criss-crossing lines of a star. A looping infinity. Their names in Korean and English. Every invisible curve and line etch with tense apprehension. "About what I'll be doing ten years from now."
"Oh, babe." Any lingering traces of sleep evaporate from Hongjoong's voice. He shifts just enough, so he can see Seonghwa clearer. Hongjoong's hand rests on the side of his partner's face. "I'm sorry if that question made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to put you on the spot in front of the camera."
"No, no--" Seonghwa shakes his head. "It's not like that, Hongjoong. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one that keeps thinking about it." He brushes his lips across Hongjoong's hand, then presses feather-light kisses to callused fingers. "Sorry for looking so out of it today. Everyone must've seen it."
As today's memories flicker in Hongjoong mind like spliced film frames, the dots connect. Hongjoong holds Seonghwa closer with his hand roaming across the man's back. "Babe, it's okay. You don't need to apologize for that." He kisses Seonghwa's temple, and runs his thumb over a cheekbone. "And I asked that question, because I was just curious."
As Seonghwa leans into the kind touch, he tries to accept Hongjoong's reassurances. But stubborn guilt keeps the iron doors sealed shut, and traps Seonghwa in a Pandora's box of his own making. "I just-..." Dragging in an abrasive breath, Seonghwa closes his eyes. The taste of copper explodes. Seonghwa doesn't bite on the inside of his cheek, but his tongue can't forget the taste of blood. "I wish I was brave enough to give you my first answer. The one that matters most."
"Hey, you're the bravest person I know." As his fingers brush over the subtle rise and fall of rib bones, Hongjoong lets out a quiet breath of relief. There's less sharp edges under his hand these days. "But you got me curious again." Hongjoong draws his hand out from under the white shirt, and rests it over his Seonghwa's chest. As that beloved heartbeat thuds against his palm, a smile surfaces on Hongjoong's face. "What's more important than your bright, amazing future as a soloist?"
"You." Opening his eyes, Seonghwa rests his hand over Hongjoong's. "Us."
A rush of blistering air traps in Hongjoong's throat. Oxygen doesn't know whether to race towards his lungs, or escape past his teeth. The same confusion bleeds into his heart as it remains frozen in limbo. Slowly, Hongjoong remembers how to breathe by listening to Seonghwa exhale. As the initial shock ebbs away, Hongjoong eases his fingers between Seonghwa's, and laces them together.
With tears and heartache brimming Seonghwa's gaze, neon stars blur from the corner of his eye. He watches Hongjoong raise their clasped hands, then kiss his knuckles.
"Us," Hongjoong echoes with his voice trailing off into a breathless laugh. "You really gonna make me cry in the middle of the night?"
"You started it." Smiling, Seonghwa gently brushes under Hongjoong's eyes to wipe away dampness. "What I really wanted to say is that I see us being together." Even in the ghost of a whisper, tears break the words into fragments, and shatter before hitting the ground. "But only if you want that too." Seonghwa tries to swallow down a sob, but it escapes by gripping onto a traitorous exhale. "I'm sorry I couldn't say that earlier."
"Darling--" Hongjoong tightens the embrace once feeling Seonghwa about to shake out of his skin. "It's okay, Seonghwa. Really. I know you love me."
"But I--" Seonghwa furiously blinks back tears, but somehow, the rivulets only cascade faster. "I don't- I don't ever want you to think it's because- I'm ashamed. I'm not. I'm not ashamed of you-- of us. Fuck-"
Seonghwa hisses in frustration at the minefield of sobs stealing his voice. The heel of Seonghwa's hand roughly scrapes away tears. He doesn't mind the stinging sensation. Not when terror gets the best of Seonghwa by the poolside, he conjures a million worst-case scenarios where he fucks up Hongjoong, ATEEZ, their community, just fucks up everything, but then he sees Hongjoong's smiling, bright-eyed reflection on the water, and his heart aches at Hongjoong bringing light and color to everything around him, and to Seonghwa's life, and damnit, goddamnit, Seonghwa's so in love with him. "You deserve better."
"Seonghwa." Hongjoong catches his wrist with just the right amount of gentleness and firmness. "All I want is right here." He draws Seonghwa's hand away from his face, then lightly wipes away the tears. "I never thought you're ashamed of us. You've always been more than I could ever hope for. And hey-" Hongjoong pokes Seonghwa's cheek in a way that brings out a flustered laugh. "I'll write you more songs to get that across. Even an album."
Seonghwa fails to stifle another fit of shy laughter. "Won't the guys get tired of that?"
"You kidding?" Hongjoong pokes Seonghwa's side this time, knowing how it makes his partner jolt with happy wheezes. "They're the ones saving screenshots of when I text about you, and calling it inspiration for songs."
"Oh, my god-" Seonghwa covers his burning face. When he lets out another laugh, it wavers into something dangerously close to a sob. "Sorry, I'm okay- I just--" He reaches out to sink fingers into Hongjoong's soft hair. "Feel really lucky. Finding you. And everyone else." Seonghwa lets out a slow, deep exhale rising from the depths of his lungs. "I can finally breathe."
A throe resonates in Hongjoong's chest, and replays visceral memories of early debut days. Seonghwa does everything perfectly well on the surface, and in front of the camera. But behind the closed doors of their shared room, Hongjoong's the first to witness Seonghwa trapped in an unwanted, one-sided relationship with panic attacks and depressive episodes.
At night, they lay collapsed on the ground, share earbuds connected to Hongjoong's ancient MP3 player, dry tears between gentle ballad melodies, and Seonghwa confesses, "I just want to breathe." While anxiety grips Seonghwa by the throat, Hongjoong holds onto Seonghwa's hand, and doesn't let go even once dawn arrives.
They don't speak often about Seonghwa's family. If the topic arises during interviews, ATEEZ knows how to artfully navigate the conversation, so Seonghwa's sutures don't break open. But Hongjoong sees those ghosts damn Seonghwa to be a living cemetary, and haunt him for years. Hongjoong brushes his thumb over Seonghwa's knuckles. The scars are too faint to be seen on-camera, but Hongjoong knows where teeth marks used to be.
Sometimes, Hongjoong's deep-rooted, feral rage threatens to claw its way out, and bare its venomous fangs. Who robbed Seonghwa of being able to feel safe? How could they mar him with third-degree burns that refuse to heal? Why did they throw him into an open grave, and bury him alive?
But Hongjoong lays that anger to rest for now. Unforgiving wildfires and infinite bullets aren't what Seonghwa needs. It's not that Seonghwa should be coddled. But after a lifetime of Hellfire and war, Seonghwa deserves something kinder. Like well-worn button up shirts, a glowing universe of stars, flour fights in the kitchen, a polaroid camera in his favorite color, and curated playlists with titles such as 'what the stars whisper to me about you', 'when you need to breathe', 'don't forget that you're loved', or 'songs that came to life after i met you.'
Hongjoong's fingers trace the line of Seonghwa's neck, then slow to a halt at his pulse. "You deserve to breathe, Seonghwa. You always have. And I promise--" Hongjoong looks into those eyes where his favorite shade of brown exists. "I'll protect you."
Seonghwa struggles to breathe through another scorching wave of tears. Even now, he still feels the raw shockwaves of hearing those words for the first time. It's during a night when Hongjoong stays up with him, Seonghwa's head tucked under Hongjoong's chin, sharing earbuds to an old MP3 player full of favorites like Park Hyoshin, Lim Changjung, and Sung Sikyung, matching each other's breathing, hands clasped together. Seonghwa apologizes for how rough and ugly his hand feels when not slathered in concealer. Closing his eyes, Hongjoong kisses every bite mark, and promises against Seonghwa's wrist, "I'll protect you." By the time Hongjoong opens his eyes, Seonghwa can't hold the tears in anymore.
These days, Seonghwa doesn't need to hide any crime scenes left by his teeth. And his stomach no longer carries any bruises in the shape of his clenched fist. When Hongjoong gives unending kindness to his body, Seonghwa thinks maybe it's okay to take care of himself.
"I love you." Seonghwa presses a kiss to the inside of Hongjoong's wrist. "Always."
"Love you too." Hongjoong leans in closer until their lips meet. He adores the curve of Seonghwa's smile against his own. "Maybe ten years from now..." Hongjoong reaches for Seonghwa's left hand until their fingers intertwine. "We'll have rings. And the world will know just what kind of rings they are."
Eyes widening, Seonghwa's heart collapses and rebuilds itself at once. Seonghwa barely keeps the sob locked inside before burying his face into Hongjoong's shoulder. A strangled sound muffles against the powder blue fleece. Chuckling under his breath, Hongjoong plays with silken raven hair. It takes a few deep, shuddering inhales for Seonghwa to regain his voice after that typhoon of a revelation. But when matching rings flash in his mind, Seonghwa closes his eyes tighter to not cry. It proves to be futile at the thought of two words: "my husband."
Seonghwa strokes his thumb over Hongjoong's left ring finger. "You really want that too?"
"Babe--" Hongjoong's sunlit laughter warms the night air. "I'd do it now if we could. Like damn-" His smile grows so broadly, and overteems with affection that his face hurts. "I thought a lot about how to propose."
Seonghwa's heart spasms from hurling itself at his ribcage, and attempting to break free. As his expression wrestles between smiling or crying, Seonghwa hides his face even more. His breathing still runs ragged from Hongjoong's love throwing punches into blindspots. "For real?"
"Ask any of the guys." Hongjoong sneaks a kiss onto Seonghwa's temple. "Pretty sure they're tired of me talking about it."
"I've been doing that too. Like--" Tilting his head, Seonghwa looks up at his partner. "A lot."
They blankly blink at each other in silence. With the startling abruptness of surprise fireworks, Hongjoong and Seonghwa break out laughing. It's times like these they're grateful for Yeosang insisting on a home with soundproof walls. Nobody can hear 2AM hysterical laughter, vehement shouting at video games, or passionate commentary over an A24 film. Hongjoong rolls around on the bed while holding his aching stomach. Seonghwa catches Hongjoong in his arms, and laughs against the man's shoulder.
"Okay, okay-" Hongjoong chokes out between delighted wheezes. "We need to buy them fried chicken tomorrow."
"Throw a pizza or two in there." While trying to catch his breath, Seonghwa wipes at damp eyes. "I'd text them paragraphs. Whole novels."
"Same." Hongjoong focuses on breathing, so he doesn't succumb to another delirious fit. "Even drew some diagrams." He lightly kisses Seonghwa's forehead. "Had to go all out for you."
As Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong closer, he sees the photographs pinned on the wall. Care-free laughter echoes from the blurry photo of everyone tackling Seonghwa and Hongjoong at once. "It's amazing how they kept this secret for so long."
"Totally." Hongjoong brushes his nose across Seonghwa's cheek. While humming, Hongjoong's fingers skate along the familiar vertebrae. "So...you've been thinking about it too."
Seonghwa ducks his head as another smile tugs at his face. He already knows he's going to randomly break out into a smile, and look absurdly smitten for days. Just because Seonghwa will remember that Hongjoong wants a future with him too. "My god-" Seonghwa's soft laugh pools into the hollow above Hongjoong's elegant clavicle. "Imagine if we propose at the same time."
Hongjoong smiles so warmly that it reaches his eyes. "I wouldn't mind that." His attempt at not giving into another round of delighted, incoherent noise utterly fails.
The nature of Hongjoong's joy rivals the rays of an explosive and brilliant supernova. Light floods the space until all Seonghwa can feel is this beautiful man's existence. This is what Seonghwa wants in ten years: Hongjoong safe in his arms, shaking with summer laughter and unbridled joy.
Eager to taste even a flicker of that light, Seonghwa dives in for a kiss. Hungry, seeking mouths eclipse and meld softly. As the searing kiss deepens, they return home to each other, and spark the fireplace. Hongjoong grasps Seonghwa's thigh to guide it over his waist, so the man lays partly on top. His other hand gently grasps the back of Seonghwa's neck. It quietly thrills Seonghwa how Hongjoong manhandles him with such ease and care.
Like a content feline, Seonghwa nuzzles against the curve of Hongjoong's neck and shoulder. Hongjoong draws a sweet purr out of Seonghwa by sliding his hand under the man's shirt. Sighing softly, Seonghwa arches into the warmth of that reverent palm.
"Thank you for being here." Seonghwa presses a kiss onto Hongjoong's neck.
Hongjoong caresses a slow, burning stroke from the small of Seonghwa's back to between his shoulder blades. "Nowhere else I'd wanna be, love." The simple truth punctuates with a kiss to Seonghwa's cheek. "But you know I'm kinda selfish when it comes to you, right?" Slowly, Hongjoong's lips trail along the sharp jawline, and graze with teeth at the end. A hand drifts to Seonghwa's waist to hold it firmly. "I'm not letting you go."
A shiver fissures through Seonghwa's veins like blazing white lightning. The charred forest ground heals under the downpour of Hongjoong's love. It still bewilders Seonghwa how Hongjoong knows exactly the kind of intimacy and possessiveness he craves. "I'm yours." As Seonghwa bares his throat, there's no fear. Only trust. Only devotion.
Amber hues soften. Hongjoong kisses the hummingbird pulse in Seonghwa's neck. "And I'm yours," he murmurs against warm skin. Before the sun breaks over the horizon, scarlet will paint over Seonghwa's throat. Along with so many other stars Hongjoong will map out on his partner's body. All pretty shades of red. Hongjoong rests their foreheads together. "Not just for ten years. But for the rest of our lives." Like iridescent crystals forming in the darkness, a bright smile emerges. "Sounds good?"
Seonghwa returns the smile with one of his own. His once hollow, desolate chest floods with vibrant wildflowers. The tremendous force of this shared joy renders Seonghwa breathless. Reaching out into the darkness with yearning, their hands find each other. "Sounds perfect."
As they meet halfway in a kiss, smiles brush softly. And they swear, for a fleeting moment, they can see a glimpse of the future. It's kinder, it's brighter, and together, they can breathe.