Work Text:
Hongjoong only really remembers where he's at because of the whistle.
It's jarring, but completely welcomed. His hand has been wrapped around the same, nearly empty glass that sweats with condensation for the past eight minutes, and he doesn't recall the last time he said a single word.
"It was great talking to you," the guy sitting across from him says, and it takes every bit of strength inside of Hongjoong to not correct that to with an at. "Hopefully we'll be hearing from each other again."
Watching this man slip from the stool, Hongjoong wonders how people can go through life—circumstances such as these—and extract such pitifully opposite outcomes from the truth. Did he say anything? Hongjoong racks his brain for any recollection of having done so beyond the simplicity of basic introductions, but nothing comes to mind.
A guy that just likes to hear himself talk. This is the conclusion that he is forced to reckon with. Someone who forces themselves onto others in a colloquial, intangible sort of way. No touching, no invasion of personal space—but the insistence to be there still remains.
This whole speed dating thing isn't going great, but on the bright side, Hongjoong isn't here for himself, anyway.
He gets dragged to things. The friend that is always down to tag along or ride shotgun to some sort of event that he doesn't particularly want to be at, but lacks better reasoning to opt out. Suppose there are many things that Hongjoong could be doing at home instead; laundry, dishes, beating off… but all of them can wait. Beating off is probably still on the table by the way things are going tonight, too.
Another thing pisses him off about this in a sort of dull, unimportant way, and it is the fact that he looks way too good for it to be wasted on this. Hongjoong's hair never behaves these days on account of the bleaching and processing it has been through in the past and the damage hasn't quite had the opportunity to fully grow out yet. Dyed black again and with nothing more than dim lights shining down on him from this incredibly dull bar's ceiling, the frizz and split ends don't demand to be seen quite as much. Everything is in place. He even threw on a little eyeshadow and a smudged liner, for good measure.
What a bummer.
Ah, but the next guy is here and as if having been through this routine so many times before already, Hongjoong offers his best imitation of a genuinely interested smile as he slips onto the briefly empty stool.
And well, he's hot at least.
"Hey, nice to meet you," Hopeful-Number-Who-Knows-Anymore says, sticking his hand out across the table. "Jung Wooyoung, you look positively delighted to be here, by the way."
Hongjoong takes his hand and offers a barely there shake.
"Kim Hongjoong. And yeah, I guess my resolve is dwindling by the second."
"Here for a friend I take it?"
"Always for a friend, isn't it?"
Wooyoung smiles and nods, seemingly proud of himself for having nailed it on the first try. "Always." He turns, surveying their surroundings for a moment until finally landing on his mark and pointing without much care for the attention that doing so may draw. "See that guy over there? In the booth? Tall guy. Well, he's sitting so you can't really tell, but I mean, he looks tall. In his arms and hands and torso, and all. You know what I mean? The hot one."
"Well, I can't see the other guys' faces on account of them sitting across from one another, so I am left with no other option than deductive reasoning," Hongjoong quips. "Yes, I see him. Presumably tall fellow."
"That's Yunho, he's looking. I'm not not looking, but I just like meeting people and doing wild stuff, so I figured I'd come. Maybe I meet somebody, maybe you two meet!" Wooyoung shifts back to face Hongjoong, and just when he believes that he is in for another round of never being asked a single thing about himself, his new speed dating partner defies all expectations by asking, "Why did you come? Since you obviously aren't having fun."
Hongjoong can put the pieces together enough to recognize that he is being asked for the who, not the why. The why has been discussed, and so, Hongjoong looks around the room for the arbiter of his bad time.
"That guy," he says, pointing with much less interest in causing a scene. "At the table by the fake palm tree. The one with the nice hair."
Wooyoung turns to look again, but quickly turns back with wide eyes and his mouth puckered cartoonishly as he silently oooh's. "Wow, he's really handsome. A lot of good looking guys here tonight, huh?"
"Guess so, yeah."
Hongjoong's hand is still wrapped around the wet glass, and Wooyoung takes notice of it just as he does.
"Another round? Say, what do you do? Actually, what do you do for fun, while we're at it! You look like you could model, though I think you're probably pretty short, right? Don't worry, not a dig at you, so am I. But I mean you have that cool, kinda edgy sharpness to your face and the way you dress is like, hipster but also cleaned up enough to not have strangers believing you might be, I don't know, a teenager or something."
This guy talks a lot, and Hongjoong does not appreciate the fact that for some reason, he is kind of enjoying listening to it.
At least he is being asked questions, and that's a far cry from the sap before. He watches Wooyoung flag down a waitress and doesn't bother answering anything until the work has been done because he questions whether or not Wooyoung's attention span can handle doing both things at once. Hongjoong has a hard time handling this one thing at once already.
But, he's hot. Extremely hot. And Hongjoong is kind or irritated about that in a way that he can't seem to articulate in his mind. He did not come here with any intention of actually finding interest in someone, and for the first few rounds, that was precisely the way that it had played out. Now, Wooyoung sits across from him in this loosely buttoned black shirt that does not leave nearly enough to the imagination as far as exposure is concerned. As if that isn't enough, the sleeves are rolled up a bit and while Hongjoong doesn't consider himself to be the kind of man so easily swayed by the flesh of a forearm, as it would turn out, he is.
Really though, the hottest thing about Wooyoung (for now, the jury is still out) is his smile. There are so many teeth—surely more teeth than the average person has—Hongjoong reasons. The smile and his lips. Full lips with a little freckle dotted at the side if he is seeing things correctly. And speaking of little freckles—one beneath an eye. Hair that's black and messy but in a sort of intentional way that Hongjoong can recognize immediately.
He has to stop staring and answer at least one of the questions.
"I'm actually in between jobs right now," Hongjoong says, and the waitress returns with drinks just as he admits to his somewhat embarrassing unemployment status, but a quick glance back to Wooyoung proves the man to be wholly undeterred by the fact. "I've started doing some fashion mockups for these basic sketches I've had lying around for years and just decided that now was as good of a time as any to finally start getting the ball rolling."
"Whoa, that's cool! Do you have like, a plan for how you're going to get it all up and running? Isn't launching a fashion brand expensive?"
"Extremely." Hongjoong takes a slow, deliberate sip from the new glass and winces—both at the flavor and his having to acknowledge the financials of his endeavor. "I'm pretty lucky though. Know some people from rubbing shoulders and being at the right place at the right time." He shrugs then, trying to play nonchalant and says, "If it doesn't work out then back to the grinder I go."
"Hell yeah, you might as well shoot your shot! Otherwise you'll get old and always be wondering if you could have done that one thing you wanted to do. Wonder why you didn't even try," Wooyoung says. "No regrets! I like that."
"What about you?"
"Boring corporate job for me, but it's just to pay the bills so I can dance on the side. I have a lucky gig that doesn't require a whole hell of a lot of brain power and I half-believe the higher ups forgot I even work there because I barely do anything and nobody seems to care, it's pretty sweet." Wooyoung takes a sip, but it is with much more excitement and urgency. "I dance for fun and I like sports. I go to a lot of baseball games. Do you like sports?"
"I think I'm neither here nor there on it, I don't mind going and it's fun when I'm there but it's not something I'd go out of my way to make sure I attend."
Hongjoong brings the glass up to his lips again, goes to take a sip, and then Wooyoung says: "So, you'd have no problem coming with me then?"
Nearly choking on the whiskey and spitting it all over his incredibly presumptuous speed date, Hongjoong manages to swallow and collect himself with some time. He sets the glass back down, looks firmly across the table at a knowing, smiling Wooyoung and asks, "And why would I be going to sports with you, Person-I-have-only-just-met?"
"Ah, okay. I understand." Leaning back slightly and crossing his arms over his chest, Wooyoung's eyes narrow as he stares at Hongjoong, as if in an attempt to dissect him further after having happened upon a dead end. "You didn't tell me what you like to do for fun."
"Maybe I don't want to tell you that."
"I don't think you don't want to tell me," Wooyoung says, "but I don't think you want to make this easy for me, either. Which is fascinating, because you're making it harder for yourself, too." He leans in close again, drops his voice to barely above a whisper and adds, "You're really dedicated to the whole I'm not having fun I hate it here schtick, huh?"
"Maybe I'm not having fun!"
Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung does not relent. "You are, though. I can tell you are because you've been fighting that smile ever since I sat down."
Aghast, Hongjoong only recognizes it once it has been said. The annoying twitch to the corner of his lip, the taut, tired muscles in his cheeks that have been tirelessly at work to ensure that he does not crack. All for nothing. Even in battle with himself, Hongjoong has failed to remain strong.
"You can have fun," Wooyoung says, finally letting up on the pressure of forcing Hongjoong to have a good time. "It's okay. I won't even tell anybody."
"You're a little…" Hongjoong starts the sentence before ever knowing where he intends to take it. He turns over a handful of options in his mind, but none of them sound quite right until eventually, the most apt comes to find him. "Disarming," he says. "Can't say I was all that prepared to deal with this after everyone has been yapping my ear off."
"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"
"Not sure yet. It remains to be seen."
Slipping his phone out from his pocket, Wooyoung checks the time and goes right back to maintaining his unyielding presence.
"We have three minutes until rotation," he says, but Hongjoong can easily pick up something curious and intriguing laced within his tone.
"So?"
"So…"
There is a brief moment of silence that lingers between them—nothing more than the idle, ambient rambling of folks surrounding them that almost certainly are not leaving here tonight as lucky as Hongjoong might be.
"So…" Wooyoung says again, "Then let's… remain… to be seen… or something." He scoffs, knowingly fucking up whatever he had been going for with that and finally just corrects it by saying, "Let's get out of here. I know a nicer spot about a block down."
"I don't think we're supposed to extend offers like that," Hongjoong says, downing the remainder of his drink like he is soon to leave despite his marginal protest. "You know, it puts people on the spot. Can make them uncomfortable. It's against the rules."
"Oh my god! What are they going to do? Kick us out? We're leaving anyway! I know you're agreeing, so I don't understand why you're even bringing this up! Look, you're putting on your coat! Are you always this difficult?"
And with one arm already shoved through his sleeve, Hongjoong finally allows Wooyoung to see his incredibly pleased and fully-realized smile.
♡
Hongjoong does not particularly want to be impressed by the fact that the establishment they move to is, in fact, only about a block away.
It says more about his dating history than anything else, and that's something of a sore spot that he does not allow his idle mind to wander to most times. There's nothing horrible or traumatic there—and for that, he is thankful—but rather a conveyor belt of swings and misses, some of which he barely even remembers the names of.
Some of which are his fault, rather than theirs.
Wooyoung holds the door open and Hongjoong adds that to the growing list of things that this guy does that he likes. He does his best not to show it beyond a casual, polite thankfulness that he hopes comes off as the same kind that anyone else might give if currently in his shoes, but doubts his ability to truly bring it home. Not since the whole situation with him smiling, at least.
Hongjoong watches Wooyoung wave at one of the bartenders and puts the pieces together rather quickly; this is a place that his date frequents, he knows the people who work here, and he likes Hongjoong enough to bring him to it despite the fact that whatever this is not working out might sour his future delight in it. What if Hongjoong is nuts? Well, he sort of is. He can admit that to himself well enough. Not the kind to come around starting fights and stalking premises, but he has his things.
Either Wooyoung hasn't thought this through enough, or he thinks he knows Hongjoong well enough in their incredibly limited time together to take that chance. He figures it to be the latter, because for as limited as their time together is, he himself has picked up on the fact that Wooyoung is incredibly perceptive, and regardless of his unbound whimsy, highly emotionally intelligent.
His next thought is then: Are we no longer speed dating, and now just dating-dating?
"Do you like it?" Wooyoung asks, fitting himself into the open slot of the booth.
"Yeah, good vibes. Better than the other place, for sure."
"Well, they don't hold speed dating events here, so that's one point in their favor."
It's at that point that one of the men behind the bar comes over and personally tends to them. This is the first time that Hongjoong is able to watch Wooyoung interact with someone that isn't himself, and he makes sure to pay attention. He watches the mannerisms and the way Wooyoung's laugh shows all of his teeth—a kind of witchy cackle that is both alarming if not anticipating it, but charming. How touchy he is with a hand grasping at the man's arm even though the topic being conveyed isn't all that humorous. The sort of thing that might have a date feeling unsure or insecure about who this other person might be in Wooyoung's life, and though the thought certainly crosses his mind, he shoves it out of the way for the thing that he thinks to be far more true of the person sitting across from him.
This is simply the way Wooyoung is.
He moves through life with an unending love and admiration for all of the people that are sharing it with him. Family, friends, service workers, the guy driving the bus; they're all important in Wooyoung's life, and suppose he just hopes to do his best to ensure that they know it.
Perhaps Hongjoong is extrapolating. Just a bit.
"Anyway!" Wooyoung turns back once the bartender leaves and once again it's all eyes on Hongjoong. The weight of it is nearly crushing for reasons he cannot quite come to understand. "I'm glad you like it! I've been coming here for years. It's pretty busy tonight but it usually isn't all that packed. That's what I like about it. Just the right amount of people, and they're always super nice."
"You just like meeting people, don't you?"
"You don't? Interesting…" Wooyoung trails off with that thought like it's a little bubble chock full of more information than Hongjoong ever meant to give, soon to pop it and spill out even more of those secrets. "I guess I sort of gathered as much, you're a little standoffish. Not in a bad way or anything, but you sure are good at letting people know when you're somewhere you don't want to be."
Huffing out a laugh through his nose, Hongjoong accepts the mild criticism as the truth that it is and says, "After a while it gets hard to pretend, and as it would turn out, my threshold is quite a bit lower than other people. I do my best to not dampen the mood, but my god… Wasn't a great showing there, I gotta tell you."
"Oh, I know! When I got to your table and I saw you I thought to myself, well thank fuck! At least he's good looking, now we just pray he isn't going to want to talk me into investing in cryptocurrency!"
"Ah, you got the cryptocurrency guy, too."
"It took everything in me to not fake a medical emergency, but I do it for Yunho." The drinks arrive just as Wooyoung finishes the statement, but it jogging the next thought is evident on his face as he rushes through taking a sip. "What's your friend's name, by the way? How do you know him?'
"Choi San, I met him through work a few years ago. Ended up hitting it off. Truth be told, I don't know why he is crawling through the trenches of dating like this, he really does not need to with a face like that."
"Same goes for Yunho, honestly. Tall, handsome, funny… hey, maybe they'll meet and sparks fly, wouldn't that be funny? You and me, San and Yunho."
"You and… me," Hongjoong carefully repeats.
"Well, we're here, aren't we? Another huge leap for mankind, or whatever they said."
Hongjoong squints at him, trying to see through something, though he isn't entirely sure what. Nor is he particularly aware of what it is that he is looking for. Maybe there's a cheat code hidden behind Wooyoung's eyes that needs to be discovered and that will make all of this form into logical sense. Maybe it's hidden somewhere underneath his tongue.
That thought comes out of nowhere, and startles Hongjoong far more than he would care to acknowledge.
So, he settles on something else. Something that's a little more palpable and easy-going. Ignoring that palpable and easy-going are so far out of his typical realm of existence.
"Is this a date?"
"Duh, we were already on a date before we left to come here."
Hongjoong squints even more. "I would hardly call what we were imprisoned in a date."
"What the hell else would you call it!? It's speed dating! Dating, but quickly! D-a-t-i—"
"Right," Hongjoong says, interrupting the unwelcomed spelling demonstration. "I got it. What I'm saying is that it's not like we met casually—maybe at the grocery store—liked each other a bit, had some curiosity and exchanged numbers. Texted a little here or there and then someone asked the other out in any real way. We sort of just… accidentally ended up on one. Not your average dating circumstances."
"Yes, all of that is true. Until we had a drink, liked each other a bit, had some curiosity, and then I asked you out on a real date here. We can exchange numbers right now and toss some text messages back and forth if you're really going to be that hung up about the semantics."
All Hongjoong can respond with is a tired, lazy roll of his eyes until they rest fully closed; the drink still clutched into his hand.
"You're free to go at any time," Wooyoung adds with a gloating, pleased smile.
"Oh, appreciate you granting me permission to do so." The snotty reply betrays the way that Hongjoong actually feels about all of this, but it's the best he has to go with as to not give himself away. His skin is hot—beneath it his veins feel electric with an anticipation of something he can't yet put his finger on—and he is engaged in unprecedented internal war with himself to not ask if there are anymore tattoos like the one on Wooyoung's forearm decorating the skin hidden away by the clothing.
He can do this. Get it together, man.
"Wouldn't want to hold you hostage for yet another round of terrible dating experiences, but I get the impression you're sort of enjoying all of this."
"Why is that?"
"You're still here, for one," Wooyoung says, and slumping down into the booth to look over Hongjoong in a more casual, nonchalant way he continues the thought. "San isn't here to be your social crutch, the thing that ties you to this place because you have to. I mean, he wasn't even particularly bothered by your leaving anyway, so that's something. We barely know each other as you love to remind me, so you don't have any reason to worry about upsetting me if you decide I suck, or this sucks. So, you're here because you like it. You like me. You want to be."
Hongjoong feels the tap of Wooyoung's foot against his shin under the table, but there's a little more force behind it than what is probably intended, and it comes across as more of a full-fledged kick than the light-hearted prodding that is likely meant by it.
But Wooyoung rolls with it, undeterred. Doesn't even acknowledge the fact that he has done it as Hongjoong jolts away from the touch.
More unfortunate than being kicked, however: Everything just said is true.
Rolling his eyes again, Hongjoong forgoes a verbal response and instead takes a long, stiff swig of his drink. He doesn't want to admit that there is a whole hell of a lot of truth behind that, but lying about it would be equally—if not more—silly.
Once the ritual of drinking down his first thread of feelings has completed, Hongjoong looks at Wooyoung sternly, but still silently. He glances around this place that they have ended up in; high-end, fancy, not completely bank-breaking but probably one of the most expensive places in the area and the decor certainly shows it. The tables and chairs are all perfectly kept in shape and the napkins are folded into pretty shapes that Hongjoong can't make out, but appreciates the effort of. Yeah, this is obviously a date. Not a place you take a stranger just to chat about the game.
Defeated, his eyes fall back to Wooyoung and with a sharp inhale leading the charge he asks, "And what's the plan after this?"
Something changes in Wooyoung's expression after that, and if Hongjoong weren't wholly engaged with the person in front of him, he might have missed it. Not unlike before, his skin prickles with anticipation as Wooyoung's eyes steady at his own, but briefly drop down to the place where Hongjoong's mouth sits. A sort of carnivorous, voracious wanting that has presumably lingered on the sidelines throughout all of this, but is now unchained and able to be set free and run rampant between them.
He sits forward with arms resting on the table in front of him, and dropping his voice low so as to only be heard by the person he intends, Wooyoung says, "Anything you want, but I have a third spot in mind for thinking that over, too."
Hongjoong takes a breath, feels the air stutter and catch in his lungs.
"I hope it's not as busy as this one is."
And slipping out from the booth, Wooyoung grins wide. Almost sinister. Hongjoong likes the way it makes heat pool in his stomach.
"We'll be the only people there," Wooyoung insists, and with a step forward to move past Hongjoong, he drops his face down just beside the shell of his ear and whispers, "Can't promise it'll be quiet, though."