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The air conditioner crinkled, the noise filling the otherwise silent room. Hongjoong stared up at the machine hooked into the wall, brow furrowing. The sweltering heat was still overwhelming, the humid air clung to his skin, making him feel sticky all over. He rolled his eyes, the blasted machine was likely broken, puffing only warm air. A waste of electricity, if anything, but well— What the owner of this place does was none of Hongjoong’s business.
It was only early June, yet the heat was already unbearable. Hongjoong had never been one to enjoy the summer, especially when he had to sit for hours in a classroom, taking the June finals.
Hongjoong leaned down, picking up his laundry and throwing it carelessly into one of the empty washing machines. He was glad that no one liked to come to this place at 5 PM on a Tuesday, everyone much busier with doing better things, like actually studying for their exams. But Hongjoong preferred to come in the middle of the week, at an inconvenient time, just to avoid the weekend rush.
For weeks he had come at this exact time, finding the laundromat completely empty and unloading a whole week’s worth of laundry in a couple of machines. He took to waiting here as well, staring off into space, or pulling music notes from the whirring of the machines, arranging it into proper rhythms and music in his head, tapping away against the metal and humming to himself. It was his few hours of total peace, without a roommate barging in, screaming, or without the looming pile of unsolved equations that are due within a few days— out of sight out of mind was Hongjoong’s motto. By accident of course, something his therapist had tutted at, muttering about “object permanence” and whatnot.
But, the bottom line was, that this laundromat was his own little piece of heaven, isolated from the outside world.
It was why he startled when he heard the familiar ding of the door, abruptly and rudely pulling him back to reality. Hongjoong looked up in disdain, a scoff ready to leave his lips. It quickly died on his tongue when he met the stranger’s eyes.
“Hello,” greeted the stranger, softly and politely. He had a small smile on his lips, his eyes curiously roving over the machines, the yellow walls, then stopping on Hongjoong. He blinked, then finally looked away, walking to one of the machines further in the back against the wall.
Hongjoong belatedly returned the greeting, eyes still stuck to the stranger. He was possibly the prettiest man Hongjoong had ever seen in his life, and he had seen some pretty men. But this one— God, this one took his breath away.
Golden tanned skin. Pretty round eyes, and pink plush lips. The cropped shirt he was wearing was plain white, but the sliver of skin it was showing was downright sinful. His underwear was also showing, but not in that offensive way straight men liked to show their underwear, no, this was calculated. It was as if he’d come straight out of a magazine.
Hongjoong felt something sticky drip onto his hand and his attention snapped back to the ice lolly he’d been sucking on. He felt himself redden, his entire face warming. Had he been so distracted that he’d just openly ogled the man, forgetting about the quickly melting ice in his hand? He most likely made the other uncomfortable, hadn’t he? Hongjoong inwardly sighed, turning his attention back to his lemon lolly, licking the droplets first then shoving the rest into his mouth.
The sounds of yet another machine coming to life joined the rest of the cacophony around them. Hongjoong snuck another glance at the man, only to find him already staring at him. Hongjoong froze.
The man opened his mouth slightly. Hongjoong mentally winced, ready for the man to call him out. It never came.
Instead, the man let out a hesitant “er,” blinking owlishly at Hongjoong. He had an odd flush to his face, almost shy. Hongjoong chalked it to the heat.
The man cleared his throat and pointed his finger at Hongjoong’s chest. “Sorry, it seems you’ve got a little… something… on your shirt.”
Hongjoong blinked at the man, not registering the words at first. Then, he followed his gaze down to his chest and noticed the suspiciously drop-shaped spots on his white shirt, the same yellow as his ice lolly.
“Ah, fuck,” he muttered, grimacing. He’d gone and made an even bigger fool of himself. He deserved a pat on the shoulder, he truly reached a new low. All in front of the most gorgeous man on earth.
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed, pulling closer the longer he stared at the stain hopelessly. He’d need to wash the shirt, but he’d already put everything in already. It’d be wasteful to start a new wash just for a single shirt. He could do it by hand at home in the sink, but he had nowhere to hang the shirt to dry in the cramped student dorm.
“If you want—” came the voice quietly. Hongjoong looked up, finding the other motioning at a second machine, open and loaded with a couple of other shirts. “You could throw it in with my laundry?”
“Oh,” Hongjoong said intelligently.
He looked down at his shirt. That would be nice. He looked back at the open machine. But he’d need to remove the shirt. His eyes flitted to the man, who stood there, looking rather awkward. He’d need to stay naked.
The man seemed to come to the same realisation, cheeks going a few shades darker. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a change of clothes. That was silly of me to suggest.”
Hongjoong looked at the washing machine, seriously considering the offer. “Would you really not mind if I throw my shirt in with your load?”
The man perked up, smiling and shaking his head. “No, please, go ahead.”
Hongjoong shrugged his sleeveless denim jacket off, then pulled the shirt off in one clean motion. Despite his flaming cheeks, he tried to act nonchalant, going up to the man and throwing his shirt in. He could feel the other’s eyes on him, following the movement.
He turned to him, startling at finding him much closer than he’d thought. They were standing face to face, and Hongjoong noticed the height difference, having to look up to the man.
Hongjoong’s breath hitched when he heard the taller man utter “freckles” under his breath.
Ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach, Hongjoong threw in a quick “thanks,” before walking back, rushing to pick his jacket back up and throw it over his shoulders, just to have a semblance of modesty at the very least.
The room drowned in an awkward silence again. The machines rumbled, the AC buzzed, and it was so suffocatingly silent. Hongjoong had never noticed the silence when he was by himself.
He turned to the stranger.
“Do you come to this laundromat often?”
The man’s head whipped up, surprised to find Hongjoong talking to him.
“Ah, no. I usually wash my clothes at my building’s shared laundry machine but…” he looked away, staring at the empty bag he’d brought his clothes in. A tick of annoyance flashed on his face, making him look even more terribly attractive. “It’s been broken for a couple of days. Knowing the landlord, he’ll probably take a couple of weeks before doing something about it. This is the closest laundromat to where I live.”
Hongjoong hummed, nodding. The man then titled his head, eyes sparkling as he addressed him. “What about you?”
“I come here every Tuesday, exactly at five,” Hongjoong said with a hint of pride. Well he was proud of himself. Committing to a schedule had always been hard for him, yet something about the laundromat made him remember to come exactly at five every Tuesday.
“Why five?”
Hongjoong had wondered the same thing before. He didn’t know why he’d picked the golden hour to come here, right as the sun started its way down. At first, his excuse was that Jongho finished practice at 6 PM, and he could come pick Hongjoong up on his way back home. But the laundromat wasn’t that far from the student dorms, only twenty minutes or so, and Hongjoong never minded a bit of walking.
He shrugged. “It was the best time, really. Always empty, I get the whole place to myself.”
“Sorry for interrupting your time alone,” the man said, lips pulling in a teasing smirk.
Hongjoong felt winded. He tried not to show how much of an effect the other was having on him, although he was sure he was failing. He leaned against one of the washing machines, licking a strip of his ice cream, then smiling. “I wouldn’t mind if it’s you.”
He could see the other still, blinking furiously and biting his lip. Then, the man approached, leaning against a different machine next to Hongjoong.
“Seonghwa,” he smiled.
Hongjoong beamed.
“.... And you should’ve seen him Jongho, he looked absolutely gorgeous, breathtaking, literally a god on earth—”
Jongho’s hands were white, his grip on the wheel too tight to be comfortable. He threw Hongjoong an angry glare.
“For God’s sake, enough! If you don’t shut up, I’m stopping the car right here and letting you walk the rest of the way.”
Hongjoong let out an offended gasp. “I’m trying to tell you about the pretty man I met”
“I know!” Jongho huffed, “You’ve only told me about him a million times already.”
Hongjoong sniffled, looking out the side of the car. The convertible was a blessing in this heat, the fresh air making up for the humid weather. “I haven’t.”
“You haven’t stopped talking about him for an entire week! Please tell me you got his number at least.”
Hongjoong sank in the chair, the seat belt tightening against him. Jongho balked. “You’re joking me… You didn’t think to at least get his socials?”
Hongjoong shook his head. “No. And now I’m probably never going to see him again.”
Jongho sighed in that very disappointed way of his. Sometimes Jongho acted as if he was the older one of the two.
“You can’t even say anything, it took you a whole month to ask out Yeosang,” Hongjoong defended pettily. “You kept going back to that carwash thing every week. You know damn well your car didn’t need to be washed every single week.”
“But it’s Yeosang. Have you seen him? I couldn’t just ask him out.”
Hongjoong did see him, and he understood Jongho, really. Curly black hair, toned arms. That month, everyone had been going to the carwash just to catch a glance of Yeosang. Even confident Jongho was left a stuttering mess the first time he saw him.
Hongjoong refused to agree, for he was nothing but stubborn.
“Well this guy’s the same,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “He is so out of my league.”
This time, Jongho turned his head, staring at Hongjoong with his mouth wide open and eyes bulging.
“Eyes on the road,” quipped Hongjoong.
“The street is literally empty.”
But Jongho complied, turning away, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment.
“Hongjoong,” Jongho started. “Have you even seen yourself? If you weren’t such a math nerd, I’d have asked you out myself.”
Hongjoong’s heart warmed at his friend’s words. He forced a scowl on his face. “I'm not a math nerd. I just happen to like math enough to study it.”
“Exactly what a math nerd would say,” muttered the younger man under his breath.
“Besides, Yeosang is a math nerd.”
“But I didn’t know he was a math nerd when I asked him out.”
Hongjoong turned to his friend, whose ears were starting to redden at the continuous mention of his boyfriend, as they always did. He cocked an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Would you not have asked him out if you’d known beforehand that he was a math nerd?”
Jongho fell silent, lips pressed tightly together. Hongjoong raised his brows, letting out a strangled "Traitor!”
“Yeosang is an exception,” Jongho finally said.
They pulled in front of the laundromat, the clock on the dashboard showing 17:02.
Jongho didn’t have practice today, but he had insisted on driving Hongjoong to and from the laundry place. He claimed it was the least he could do, considering Hongjoong handled both their laundries together.
With a final wave of his hand, Hongjoong bid Jongho farewell, grabbing the two bags he’d brought with him and walking into the familiar place.
He stopped at the door, eyes wide at the figure standing inside.
Seonghwa turned around at the chime of the door, a large pile of coloured clothes in hand. A smile split his pretty lips. Hongjoong felt his own heart soar, doing intricate flips inside his chest.
“Hi,” he walked in, almost wondering if he was hallucinating.
“Hi yourself,” Seonghwa chirped, voice warm.
“You’re back?” Hongjoong couldn't help but feel confused.
Seonghwa let out a small chuckle. “I did say our laundry machine’s broken.”
That wasn’t what Hongjoong had meant. He wanted to ask why Seonghwa was back here today, right now. He couldn’t possibly have caught his interest? Not after last week’s disastrous first impression.
Ignoring the heart in his throat and shaking his head from the delusions that sounded suspiciously like Jongho’s nagging voice, Hongjoong went to his usual machines, opening his bags and starting his usual “split them into hot water-cold water piles” routine.
Seonghwa had already started the cycle on the machine he’d taken a liking to, the noise too loud, overpowering even the buzzing of the still broken AC.
Seonghwa’s voice interrupted the noise. “No ice lolly this time?” He said with a teasing tilt.
Hongjoong shook his head, not looking up. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from one of Jongho’s sports jerseys. “My roommate gave me a lift, and he has a strict no food rule in his car.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Wise man.”
Hongjoong blushed despite himself, remembering the embarrassing yellow stains. They came out nicely thanks to Seonghwa allowing him to wash the shirt with his clothes before it could truly stain.
Hongjoong did bring with him something else though. He only hesitated for a second, thinking maybe he was about to make a fool of himself. He straightened up, pulling out a small packet from his pocket.
“Um— I did bring Lemon Bon Bons though. Would you like some?”
Seonghwa’s face lit up, throwing an excited glance at the bag of sweets in Hongjoong’s hands.
He stood closer, taking a couple of the yellow candies in hand. “You sure do like your lemon flavoured stuff,” he mumbled absentmindedly. “Last time it was a lemon ice lolly as well wasn’t it?”
Hongjoong shrugged, a lopsided smile on his face. “What can I say, it is the superior flavour.”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened then he pushed his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Actually, strawberry is clearly superior.”
Hongjoong put a hand on his heart, expression in mock shock. “How dare you? I’m afraid we just can’t get along, you and I.”
Seonghwa’s laughter was like sweet nectar to Hongjoong.
Seonghwa continued happily munching on the bon bons, watching Hongjoong finish setting all the machines.
Silence fell again but this time, Hongjoong was determined to not let it fester, immediately cutting it with the first thing that came to mind. “Are you a model?”
Hongjoong closed his eyes. He should not have said the first thing that came to mind. It was too late to take it back, so he continued, trying to salvage it by rambling. “It’s just, you’re so tall, and so pretty— no, I didn’t mean— well you are but—”
Oh he made it so much worse.
His face was positively burning, but at least, when he snuck a glance at Seonghwa, the other didn’t seem to dislike it. In fact, his face had a similar flush to it, a small embarrassed smile playing on his lips.
“I’m not,” he answered simply, his voice just a tad higher than usual. “I did want to, but the doctor said I’d never reach the height requirement so… I just work at a c-store down the street.”
Hongjoong stared at the other. But he looked so… so… Who just casually looked like that?!
“But thank you. For the compliments,” Seonghwa added shyly.
Hongjoong, still mortified, nodded tersely.
The conversation carried on, Seonghwa asking him about his studies, then talking about his own. He talked about his hobby of collecting Legos. Hongjoong talked about his hobby of creating music in turn— Which got Seonghwa quite excited, something about “you did give off tortured artist vibes when I first saw you.”
Whatever that meant.
And throughout it, Hongjoong could not keep his eyes off of Seonghwa. As the sun dipped, the golden hour had washed Seonghwa in a beautiful orange light, the sun highlighting his features in a way that made him look like a sculpture. A sculpture which god has spent hours meticulously carving. The sunkissed skin glowed, his eyes bright and molten gold.
Hongjoong knew he was too far gone.
In the end, they completely forgot about the laundry, both startled by the simultaneous beeps of multiple machines going off at the same tile.
Hongjoong spared a glance at his phone, seeing that it was past six. Had they really been so immersed in each other’s companies that they hadn’t noticed the passing of time?
He looked up, spotting Jongho’s familiar car parked outside the building. He met Jongho’s eyes through the glass, and the younger smirked, a pointed question on his face.
Hongjoong ignored him, turning his attention back on pulling the clothes out.
“Oh, it seems your roommate is here to pick you up,” Seonghwa noted. “I hope we didn’t make him wait too long.”
“He can wait a little more,” grumbled Hongjoong, carelessly shoving the clean laundry into the bags.
By the time he was done packing, Seonghwa was already by the door, waiting for him with a smile.
Hongjoong held the door open for him. “Do you need a lift? We can drop you on the way.”
Seonghwa shook his head. “No, I live really close by. Thank you though.”
They stood together in front of the door, neither really saying anything. Seonghwa was fiddling with the small silver bracelet around his hand.
“Um—” Hongjoong eloquently said.
Seonghwa’s head snapped up to meet Hongjoong’s gaze, questioning. Hopeful even, if Hongjoong dared.
Go on. Ask him for his number. Jongho’s voice continued to nag.
Hongjoong swallowed.
“It was nice seeing you again,” his voice quivered awkwardly.
Despite the slight disappointment that flashed on his face, Seonghwa’s eyes softened impossibly.
“Yes, it really was.”
He walked away then, leaving Hongjoong with a wave and a smile.
“That looks like it went well,” Jongho teased as soon as Hongjoong came within earshot.
His smile dropped when he saw the look on Hongjoong’s face. “Please tell me you got his number.”
Hongjoong grimaced.
“You are an idiot,” Jongho scoffed.
Hongjoong slumped into the passenger seat, “I know.”
Hongjoong stared at the clothes being tumbled in the machines. The AC’s buzzing was getting on his nerves, the sound much too annoying in the otherwise quiet room. Maybe he should let the owner know that his air conditioner was broken. That it was uselessly running, doing nothing but cost him money despite it not working.
The quiet was too loud.
It hadn’t been this quiet since he met Seonghwa.
Has it always been this quiet?
Hongjoong forced himself to direct his thoughts elsewhere, the emptiness of the laundromat feeling much too similar to the emptiness he was feeling inside at the lack of a certain pretty boy beside him.
He inspected his nails. The black had chipped. He should’ve brought his nail polish with him, just to busy his mind.
Maybe, Hongjoong admitted begrudgingly, he should’ve listened to Jongho’s nagging voice and gotten Seonghwa’s number. Or maybe, Seonghwa just wasn’t interested. Maybe he’d been entertaining some guy to pass the time and Hongjoong had been the fool.
He picked at his nails, sighing deeply.
He opened one of the lollipops that he brought with him, popping the yellow one in his mouth. The strawberry one had been disregarded on top of the closest washing machine.
Maybe he should head back home for the day. Come back in an hour to pick up his stuff. Just so he wouldn’t have to wait.
Right as he was deciding whether to leave or stay, the doorbell chimed, signaling someone coming in.
Hongjoong whipped his head to the door, eyes widening at the familiar face.
“Hi,” Seonghwa said shyly.
His hands were suspiciously free of any laundry bags, and Hongjoong's eyes narrowed.
“Our landlord fixed the laundry machine,” Seonghwa said as a means of explanation. And it did explain so much.
Hongjoong nodded.
Seonghwa won’t be coming back. He had no need for the laundromat anymore.
But then why was he here?
Hongjoong frowned, voicing his question. “Then why are you here?”
Seonghwa’s cheeks were coloured a pretty red, or rather, orange in the golden light of the afternoon.
“I— I came to ask if you’d want to go out sometime? Maybe go catch a movie?”
Hongjoong’s mind blanked, his heart skipping a beat. He gaped, not saying anything, not even breathing as he simply stared at Seonghwa, nothing but the whirring of the machines around them.
The longer he stared, the more Seonghwa seemed to lose his confidence, his shoulders dropping slightly, his smile quivering.
“I saw a poster for a reshowing of that first star wars movie,” Hongjoong finally said, scrambling for a reply.
Seonghwa blinked at Hongjoong, then his face broke into that beautiful smile of his, pearly teeth on display and eyes crinkling with joy.
Hongjoong couldn't really believe it. Seonghwa, asking him out. His heart was a flurry of emotions, fondness and happiness and hope and disbelief all a wild mixture inside of him.
He took a deep breath in.
“Do you have anything to do right now?” Hongjoong asked, taking a step forward. Seonghwa met him halfway, a light laugh tumbling out of him.
“What, right now?” He asked, eyes filled with mirth. “Hongjoong, your clothes will probably be ready in like, thirty minutes.”
Hongjoong shrugged. “So? They can wait. I have to take a pretty boy out on a date and that can’t wait.”
Seonghwa wrinkled his nose, eyes disappearing into crescents. The smile seemed to be forever etched into his lips, even as he expressed disgust. “Your clothes will be ruined.”
“I’ll just wash them again later. Or tomorrow.”
“I suppose I’m free…”
Hongjoong’s smile widened, mirroring Seonghwa’s expression. He took the taller’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers and caressing the other’s knuckles with his thumb.
Seonghwa’s smile was impossibly soft as he shyly stared at their hands.
It seemed Hongjoong was absolutely gone for the man, smitten beyond belief, but Seonghwa seemed to be just as besotted.
Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa forward, leading him outside the laundromat with a smile on his lips and the taller’s sweet name on his tongue.
Seonghwa’s hands were lazily scratching his scalp, lips moving against his. Every now and again, they broke away, only for Seonghwa to giggle and peck him again, pulling him back in. Despite the summer heat being at its peak, the two stuck close to each other, barely any space between them. Seonghwa was halfway on Hongjoong’s lap, legs thrown over carelessly and moving closer with every kiss. Or it was Hongjoong pulling him, the movie completely disregarded, hands on his boyfriend’s tiny waist, not so sneakily moving under the shirt to feel the skin under his fingertips.
“You taste like artificial lemon,” Seonghwa laughed. He’d grown to like the taste of it in the two months that he’d been dating Hongjoong. He leaned in again, lips brushing against each other.
Someone behind them groaned.
“Would the two of you stop making out on the couch.”
Hongjoong scowled, shooting him a not so discreet glare. “I did tell you I’m bringing Seonghwa over.”
“You said you’d be watching a movie. You don’t seem to be watching much right now,” Jongho said dryly.
Seonghwa turned to Jongho, a sweet smile on his lips. “Are you meeting Yeosang? Please tell him to get some groceries on the way back.”
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed, staring at his boyfriend. “How do you know Yeosang?”
Seonghwa’s expression turned into a confused one. “He’s my roommate? Haven’t I mentioned this before? He’s the one who told me to go down to that laundromat the first time we… He said it would be empty at that time…” Seonghwa blinked. “Ah.”
Hongjoong raised a brow. Jongho was suspiciously not meeting their eyes, pursing his lips staring at his shoes instead.
The little fuckers set them up.
Seonghwa let out a small laugh, taking Hongjoong’s face in his hands and leaning in, noses almost bumping. “Well, I’m glad their meddling worked.”
Hongjoong let out a sigh, then smiled at his boyfriend, stealing a quick kiss. “I’m glad too, otherwise I’d have murdered Jongho for letting me embarrass myself in front of you.”
Jongho let out a distressed noise, quickly walking away and slamming the door. Seonghwa’s laughter echoed between the walls— that is until Hongjoong pulled him back against him, swallowing his noises and pressing his lips to golden skin.