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The weather is getting chillier and the main street is getting less busier as the minutes seem to drag. Seonghwa is sitting at one of the outside tables of a cool, hipster cafeteria in front of the Architecture & Engineering department, right leg shaking in anxiety and excitement. He’d been watching clients entering and leaving the coffee shop for a few minutes since he arrived 20 minutes ago; has noticed a blond girl leaving with 2 large cups of iced americano, a businesswoman typing furiously on her tablet as she chugged down 3 espressos and a young guy leaving with an enormous box of sweet pastries - probably for his office colleagues. Seonghwa laughs to himself, noticing how much time he has on his hands as he waits for the mysterious guy.
He leans back on the chair, nursing his half-finished cup of strawberry frappuccino, and wonders if anyone is even showing up. The guy is late, should have shown up almost half an hour ago, and Seonghwa doesn’t even know if he wants anyone to show up at this point anymore. And that’s precisely when someone does decide to arrive, startling a distracted Seonghwa by touching his shoulder. Seonghwa jumps on his seat like a scared cat, visibly startled, managing to make a fool out of himself. And now he knows for a fact that he’s blushing because he feels his cheeks getting hot, even under the windy weather of mid-autumn Seoul.
“Sorry? I thought you were expecting me,” the guy says, offering a little smile.
His name is Hongjoong, as Seonghwa vaguely remembers his friend Yunho mentioning it. He doesn’t really sell it, but Mingi has convinced him to sell us some grams of his own harvest. He has like, the best weed ever, Yunho said, although Seonghwa doubts he’d even notice any difference since he has no standards to compare it to. He has never tried any kind of bad weed before. Or any kind of drug, for that matter. But he kind of wants to, so he can finally understand what is the fuss about it.
“Oh, yes. Uh, I am.” way to go, Seonghwa . An adult man, blushing and stuttering like a schoolgirl because of some random, kind-of-dealer guy. He clears his throat before continuing. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Really?” Hongjoong seems amused, the smallest of smiles tugging at one corner of his mouth, which only disconcerts Seonghwa even more. “What do you want from me?”
Although he has a small frame and is a few inches shorter than him, he holds himself in such a cool manner that has Seonghwa reckoning the man as quite intimidating. His eyes are lined with a bit of smudged kohl and his short, white-ish hair is spiked up due to the hood of his jacket. He stands still in front of Seonghwa, with both hands in his pockets and the fact that he is chewing gum only makes him look both disinterested and condescending at the same time.
Seonghwa wasn’t a blushing, insecure virgin per se, but he suddenly feels inadequate, having the stupid urge to cover himself and make himself look smaller as if the other could see right through all the layers of the designer clothes he was wearing from head to toe.
“Hm, a friend of mine told me you’d sell us some weed?”
Hongjoong hums, neither agreeing nor denying it. After the silence stretches out for a few seconds too long, it’s pretty clear that that’s the closest to a response he’ll get to that pseudo question.
“Can I buy some?”
“You want to buy some?” The barely noticeable smirk persists, making Seonghwa feel even smaller than before.
“Yeah,” he fakes bravado. “I’d like to buy some, please.”
Hongjoong’s smirk grows wider, eyeing Seonghwa from head to toe. Of course, Hongjoong must have noticed that Seonghwa was toeing the lines of preppy, judging by his shoulder-length, middle-parted black hair, black jeans, and the neatly pressed, button-up black shirt he chose to wear that day — in his defense, he had a seminar earlier which he had to look more formal and presentable. Hongjoong pulls the chair next to him, smiling softly as he sits with his legs open wide, and Seonghwa can’t help but stare at the big holes of his ripped, distressed greyish jeans, thinking that it might be showing a bit too much skin for his liking. He uncrosses the arms he doesn’t even remember crossing in the first place.
Hongjoong smirks, “Alright.”
“Alright?” The frown on the taller boy’s forehead deepens. As he made his way to the cafe today, he wasn’t sure what to expect — maybe some form of resistance or for the other to ask him for a password — but a simple “alright” wasn’t it.
“Yeah, you’re friends with Yunho and Mingi, aren’t you?” he asks, not even waiting for Seonghwa’s response to continue talking. “Mingi’s been bugging me to sell him some since we shared a joint some weeks ago. Do you really want it?”
“Yeah!” Ops. too eager. Play it cool, Seonghwa . “I mean, sure, yeah.”
“Okay.” Hongjoong still looks amused and although it feels a little humiliating, Seonghwa sort of wants that grin to never leave the man’s face. “25 for each joint. And I’m guessing you don’t know how to roll.”
It’s not supposed to sound mean, but it tints the other boy’s pale cheeks with peachy pink anyway.
“Uh, I don’t. Do I pay now? Do you have KakaoPay?”
“Really?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow questioningly; almost teasingly. It’s confusing, really, but almost everything about him is, so far. “Hm, just ask Yunho or Mingi for my address and come over with cash tomorrow to pick it up. Around 9 pm sounds good for you?”
“Yeah.”
“How many do you want?”
“Hm, three.”
~
Seonghwa’s stomach is still churning with anxiety as he waits by the door, but at the same time, his fingertips are buzzing with excitement. For some reason, he can’t wait to see the man again. He knocks twice, biting at his bottom lip and thinking that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. It was a terrible idea, now that he actually stopped to think about it. It’s 6 pm, 3 hours earlier than their agreed meeting time, for God’s sake. Hongjoong is probably busy or not even at ho—
The door whines open to reveal a very not busy, extremely shirtless Hongjoong.
“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong frowns, holding the doorknob. His hair is mussed up and his eyes are sleepy like he’s been woken up from a nice nap. “It’s 6 p.m., dude. What the hell are you doing here?”
What is he doing here? He tries hard to concentrate on forming an answer, but a nice, tattooed smooth torso can be really distracting, especially when its end is barely covered by the black sweats that sit low on Hongjoong's hips.
“I- ” He tries to come up with some sort of excuse as he looks down at his own shoes right next to Hongjoong’s bare feet, but it’s useless. The boy himself has no idea what brought him here so early. He was pregaming with Yeosang and San just a few moments earlier for tonight’s party and now he’s at a stranger’s door for no apparent reason. “Sorry, I’ll come back later.”
“Nah, just come in.”
That makes Seonghwa look back up, finding the other’s ever-so-calm eyes, not giving away a single thing about what he might be thinking. But when the latter turns around, he follows him inside anyway. Seonghwa stands awkwardly for a moment at the entrance of what seems to be the other’s room as he fumbles with a bag, probably looking for the weed.
“Come in, dude. Sit down wherever. I still need to roll your stuff.”
And he does so, sitting by the edge of the bed, creating a safe distance between Hongjoong and himself. The room is neater than Seonghwa thought it would be since the man apparently lives by himself. There’s a couple of worn clothes thrown over a gaming chair and a used cup sitting on the table, but it’s nothing compared to what he pictured this guy’s room to be. Seonghwa watches him for a moment; the way his short-looking fingers work with precision on the small portions of dried plants is sort of hypnotizing. The former’s eyes follow each movement closely as the man rubs his palms together, even smaller pieces falling from in between them. The quiet noises it makes are very pleasing as well, and Seonghwa can catch each of them because everything else in the room is completely silent.
“You never smoked before, right?” Hongjoong’s low voice startles him a little, but he manages not to jump this time.
“Um, I tried a cigarette once.”
“How’d you like it?” An eyebrow is raised in surprise, but his eyes are trained on the rolling paper in front of him.
“I didn’t, but a lot of my friends hate them and smoke weed regularly.”
“Yeah, me too. Don’t worry, you should be fine.”
Hongjoong finishes twisting one of the tips tightly and offers the joint to Seonghwa, who takes it with both hands, marveling at how light it feels and how surprisingly pretty it looks — nothing like the ones Mingi rolled up at the parties they went together. Then, Hongjoong slides closer to Seonghwa on the mattress and offers him a bright pink lighter.
“What?”
“Well? Don’t you wanna try it now to see how you like it before spending almost 100$ on 3 of them? Consider it a test drive.”
If Seonghwa’s hands weren’t sweating earlier, they most definitely are now. He wasn’t expecting to smoke this soon, and most definitely wasn’t expecting to smoke with the still very shirtless and somewhat intimidating man sitting next to him. But he only worries at his bottom lip for a moment before thinking what the hell and taking the lighter.
Another moment goes by before he realizes he’s not sure what to do. Fundamentally, he knows he’s supposed to light up one of its edges, but he doesn’t really know which one.
He’s glad he doesn’t have to ask for help, though, because Hongjoong seems to notice his struggle and takes both objects back, placing the joint in between his lips and lighting the other tip up while sucking. He hollows his cheeks a little while doing so, and the thing seems to flash a pretty tone of bright red.
The only reason why Seonghwa is still watching him intently is so that he can repeat his movements when his own turn comes, he’s not trying to be a creep or anything. Even if Hongjoong’s jawline does look particularly intriguing while framing a pair of hollowed cheeks.
Then, the man puts the lighter down and uses his now free hand to hold Seonghwa’s face softly. The latter gasps quietly, surprised by the gentle touch, but then notices the blunt being brought close to his own lips, and opens up and then shuts them back around the wrinkly paper.
He tries mimicking what Hongjoong did a few minutes prior, inhaling through his mouth and feeling the warm air fill his lungs. He tries hard to hold it in, but his throat itches terribly, forcing a strangled cough out of him, followed by several others that create a thick smoky cloud around them.
“Woah, take it easy, man!” A soothing hand finds the small of Seonghwa’s back, rubbing it in small circles until he can breathe again. It helps, in a way. “Alright, my bad. I should’ve warned you not to inhale so much at once. You’re supposed to get used to it first.”
Hongjoong brings the blunt close to his own mouth again, but before taking a puff, he asks “Can I try something that might help?” and, honestly, the older boy has no idea what it may be, but nods anyway because pretty much anything should be better than feeling like a living animal is scratching at the inside of your throat.
So the smooth hand finds its way back onto one side of Seonghwa’s face and, if he leans a bit into the touch, neither of them mentions it. Hongjoong takes a long puff and then leans in and, yeah, of course, the other finds it odd, but his first instinct is to let his own eyes flutter shut prettily and wait for what’s to come.
The hand that’s now on his chin pulls a little, making him open his mouth and he complies obediently. A nose bumps against his own and, for a moment, Seonghwa could bet all of his parents’ small fortune that Hongjoong was about to kiss him — and, strangely enough, he was about to let him — but right before their lips could meet, the latter blows the smoke right through the former’s ones.
This time, he manages to hold it in for quite a few seconds before exhaling again. The boy feels a little dizzy already, but he’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with the marijuana.
“Better?” Hongjoong asks and Seonghwa just stares dumbly for a moment before nodding profusely. “You probably won’t feel anything ‘till the second or third hit, though. Are you really okay with this? You can tell me to fuck off any time, you know.”
“Yeah, no, it’s- it’s great, really. A lot better than that first hit I took by myself.”
“Good. Ready for more?”
Seonghwa just barely finished nodding before the younger boy took another puff, bringing him closer by the side of his neck now. The former swallows dryly before opening up again, placing one of his hands on the bed behind himself for support and the other on the nearest firm biceps it can find, simply because he’s not sure what to do with it.
Hongjoong doesn’t even pull back more than a few inches this time, turning his face to the side to take a drag and then leaning in again, lips touching briefly, hand on Seonghwa’s neck sliding up until it cups his tender cheek once more. The featherlight touch leaves a tingly trail behind and the latter can vaguely guess that the weed is finally kicking in. He doesn’t really hold in for that long, exhaling heavily as his mind slowly gets as cloudy as the small room. Everything feels a little hazy and numb, but at the same time, Seonghwa feels way more aware of his surroundings and most of it consists of nothing but Hongjoong. He’s also very conscious of every single bit of his own skin that’s in contact with the other’s hot one. His fingers slide up the boy’s bare arm, gripping tightly around a surprisingly strong shoulder.
When Hongjoong asks “Do you want more?” with his face only a few inches away from the older boy’s, the latter is sure he can feel it against his own lips more than actually hear it.
Rationally, somewhere in the back of his mind, Seonghwa knows the other means more hits, but, although he has no clue what his own answer is about, it most definitely isn’t about hits.
“Please.”
His hand that was still on the bed, joins the other on the man’s bare shoulders, feeling out for every single bump of muscle. That seems to get his message across — even if still a little unclear to himself — because Hongjoong pulls back just enough so that he can drop the joint on an ashtray that sits on the nightstand by the bed, and then his hands find their way onto the older boy’s hips. Seonghwa’s eyes flutter back shut, being able to focus on the exact moment the first smoke-free hot breath hits his own lips as the other draws near, and he waits patiently. He longs for whatever Hongjoong is willing to give him, clueless as to why he trusts this almost stranger so blindly, but not actually caring that much at this very moment.
It’s just a brush of lips at first. Their noses bump gently a few times as the blonde tests the waters, dragging his own mouth from side to side. Seonghwa can make out every single irregularity and crease on them, mapping out their texture as they fit against his own. It’s too much but not nearly enough. The older boy, who’s usually well composed and whose tailored shirts are always impeccably steamed and pressed, is being slowly — but surely — reduced to a disheveled mess.
Hongjoong’s tongue comes out to lap at his bottom lip gently and Seonghwa feels a desperate noise bubbling up out of the back of his throat. He wants something pretty badly. Anything. Everything. And then the other is giving him just that. They collide with a little bit of force, but when Hongjoong starts licking into his mouth, it feels anything, but forceful. It’s lazy, patient, and suspiciously akin to teasing.
His movements are precise and seem carefully thought out, but at the same time, they’re pretty bold. It doesn’t demand anything, but Seonghwa offers something in return anyway. Everything, really. He succumbs under the other’s touch as Hongjoong untucks his shirt and finds the hot skin under it, running over the expanse of his torso with expert fingertips like a brush would a blank canvas. Not a second later, said hands make their way back, moving on to tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt carelessly. Surprisingly, Seonghwa helps, shimmying out of the piece of clothing and not once breaking the kiss.
He’s not sure whether it’s the fact that he’s making out with a man he just met on his bed, or that he’s under the influence of marijuana — since they’re both firsts to him — but he’s never given himself over completely like this while kissing anyone before. So much that he doesn’t care when his designer shirt is dropped unceremoniously to the floor, turning into a wrinkly puddle. Or maybe it’s because it’s fucking hot and he’s wearing too many layers, desperate to get rid of at least some of them.
He also barely notices the other gradually leaning in more and more until his own back hits a soft surface — the bed. Hongjoong buries a strong hand in his carefully styled hair, not quite tugging, but gripping tightly enough to pull a bit. Seonghwa frees his mouth to gasp a little and the other takes the opportunity to travel down a bit. The taller throws his head back, baring his neck as an invitation Hongjoong gladly takes, sucking the tender skin in between his teeth a few times before running his tongue over the marks and, then, lavishing both his jawline and collarbones with wet kisses.
Nothing ever managed to steal the smaller boy’s breath quite like the view that was in front of — and under — him when he pulled back a little to take a look. The moment he first saw the Seonghwa earlier today, he looked exactly like a doll in his branded clothes and a preppy outfit to match.
Now, lying on his bed and looking up at him with big boba, expectant eyes, he looks nothing but pliant. His dark, long hair is glued to his forehead with sweat, his eyes glossy, lips parted as he breathes heavily, delicate collarbones, and a slightly prominent chest glowing under the dim lights coming from the window.
“You’re so pretty,” Hongjoong comments against his parted lips, his voice sounding low and full of lust. “Prettiest boy to ever lay in my bed.”
Seonghwa’s been called pretty many, many times before, even in intimate contexts like this. But the way Hongjoong has said it, whispering hotly against his lips and with his whole body pressing Seonghwa against the soft mattress, manages to send shivers down his spine, making him arch his back a little.
He feels naked in more ways than just one, even though he only took off his shirt so far. It’s probably the weed , he thinks because there is no way his body is reacting like that just because he was called pretty by a hot stranger. But right now, with Hongjoong staring him down with overwhelming adoration and desire in his droopy eyes, he knows it’s more than just that. Seonghwa feels pinned to the place even though the other isn’t holding him down. Actually, Hongjoong doesn’t even have his hands on him at the moment, the only thing still connecting them being the older boy’s legs wrapped around his waist.
“It’s fucking hot,” is what Seonghwa replies disconnectedly, a little too flustered to come up with anything else. His voice comes out hoarse, what with his throat feeling as dry as his mouth does.
“Yeah... I’m gonna get us something to drink. Can you crack the window open? Letting the weed smell out might help too.”
The smaller one gets up and, although the other simply hums in agreement, he starts missing the shared body heat as soon as it’s gone. Not only that, but he wonders if he’ll ever get another moment like the one they just shared or if they’ll just go back to acting like bros for the rest of the night. Or worse, like the strangers they truly are to each other.
The boy resigns, though, reluctantly getting up to his knees on the bed to reach for the windows and open them a bit. It’s chilly outside and the way the wind brushes gently against his hot cheeks sort of helps sober him up. The view of Hongjoong’s bedroom is nice, the street is littered with some cool cafes and shops and he can also see a house with one of the most beautiful streetside gardens he has ever seen in Seoul. There are a mix of colorful blooms — roses, lilies, hydrangeas — and dark green foliage arranged in such a nice and smart way that the architecture student in him wants to grab his phone and take pictures from different angles to analyze the project later. It’s just really, really pretty.
Pretty.
That word sounds different to Seonghwa now — in a good way. It feels as if it holds a secret only him and the boy who called him that very word have access to. He knows for a fact he’ll have to hold back a smile every time he hears that word now. Or maybe it’s just the weed’s aftertaste talking.
Seonghwa is right back to where he was when he first got into Hongjoong’s room, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed and trying to adjust his clothes as best as he can. Hongjoong comes back with two beers and a ratty T-shirt on. He hands him the bottle that’s still full and sips on the other one, sitting right next to Seonghwa.
“I don’t know if you preppy boys drink beer, but it’s either that or water,” Hongjoong says, placing the bottles beside the bed. “Oh, your phone’s been ringing like crazy for quite some time too. Guess the sound is off. I know it’s Yunho, though, because he flooded my phone asking me about your whereabouts.”
Seonghwa flushes, like a deer caught in the headlights. Having his friends fuss over him like nannies was not the way to seduce a cute, hot kind-of-dealer guy.
“You guys going to a party, right? At San’s boyfriend's frat house? Wooyoung?” Hongjoong asks, sipping his drink and throwing himself on the bed. “Hey, why are you so far away? Minutes ago you were a panting mess under me and now you’re acting like a blushing virgin.”
Seonghwa has about 10 seconds to feel awkward about the comment until an arm is thrown lazily around his waist and a warm body is flush against his own from behind.
“Hm, yeah,” Seonghwa whispers, feeling stiff as a board against Hongjoong’s heated torso. To make things worse, Hongjoong starts littering his neck with light pecks, occasionally sliding a bit of tongue against his skin. Seonghwa has to think hard to formulate his next sentence. “Today is Wooyoung’s birthday, hence why they gave me the mission of buying your weed.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m coming to the party too.”
The gears inside Seonghwa’s head take exactly 30 seconds to click.
“Uh, if you’re coming to the party and you knew you were meeting me there, why would you make me come here to pick it up?”
Hongjoong has the nerve to laugh. “Well, you’re cute. I’ve been interested in you for a few weeks and that’s the way Yunho found out to make us meet without it being weird?”
“Oh.”
“I really want to take you out for a date later,” Hongjoong says out of nowhere. “If I’m being honest, I’m really interested in you. I’ve seen you with the guys a few times and I didn’t know how to approach you because you didn’t look like someone I could pull off. I don’t know if let me kiss you because of the weed, but if you didn’t, I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.”
After dumping all that information, Hongjoong seems very embarrassed, such a contrast to the shameless persona he had been showing. Maybe he’s afraid that Seonghwa is going to reject his invitation, which honestly is kind of endearing because Seonghwa is the awkward one.
“Yes,” Seonghwa promptly says. “Let’s go on a date, and then we can make this an all-time thing.”