Chapter Text
Seongje didn't feel sad when he heard Baekjin was dead. Didn't feel much of anything, really.
"He's dead?" He'd asked himself with a chuckle instead, an ugly feeling rising in his throat like a bug crawling up slowly and making home in his mouth with a bitter taste. Felt disappointment. Felt Disgust.
So much for the leader title he liked to show off. Pathetic he died at such a young age. Pathetic he died at all. There were the memories of him. The last time he'd talked to him in the office while it rained outside, a sound irritating as much as it was soothing.
Seongje passed the cigarette to him. Like he always did. A vow of loyalty. A promise. A devotion. Baekjin hadn't refused. Had let their fingers brush together in the dimness of the room. Had let a blanket of silence fall over them. Knew about Seongje's betrayal.
Baekjin didn't say anything about it. They both knew it was probably coming from a far away. It wasn't so much about helping Baku's little boy band as it was about getting back at Baekjin. A selfish, ruthless act. Baekjin couldn't care less. Seongje was just another—
"You gonna resign if you lose? I would." Seongje spoke, a low laugh bubbling out of his throat.
Baekjin glanced at him as he lit another cigarette and brought it to his mouth. The tic-tac noise of the lighter as he inhaled. He didn't reply. Looked ahead and relaxed back on to the couch that creaked more than an a rusty staircase.
Seongje turned his head to him and smirked. "Or are you expecting to lose?" An obvious bait to get under Baekjin's skin. As was his job. He watched Baekjin blink like a corpse, not moving.
No reaction.
Seongje's tactic was simple. Poke once and if there is no response, scratch the surface until it peeled under his fingers and gave away the unguarded flesh and bone.
"On a second thought, I think you might just go easy. Since it's Baku. Unrequited love and everything."
And the lion was unleashed. Like he'd hoped. Seongje's eyes lit up instantly the moment Baekjin yanked him forward by his collar with his jaw tightened and a glare in place. Seongje grinned in the way a prey did when the predator fell into the trap set exactly to evoke weakness.
Baku was Baekjin's weakness. Bluntly evident in the crivces of the well drawn mask on his face, the control slipping from his fingers a sweet treat Seongje could nearly taste on his tongue.
He wanted more. So he pushed the dagger a bit deeper, put salt on the sweetness. "I always wondered why you keep going back to him even when he clearly doesn't want you. You act like an abandoned dog with the foolish hope that he'll throw you a treat. Maybe two, if you get lucky. But he doesn't even look at you let alone pet you for your determination. And you know what I think? It's because you're so pathetically ignorant of the fact that you're a wolf in a dog's clothing."
And that's when Bakejin had enough and hurled him on to the coffee table in front of the couch, straddling him. A punch. When the next one came, Seongje kicked him back on to the couch and got on top of him, slamming their heads together. Laughing in sick giddiness.
Baekjin's head pounded with blood. With black spots dancing in his eyes. He looked at Seongje, the way the outline of his body was doubling before going to normal. Seongje grinned down at him from where he was perched on Baekjin's lap.
Baekjin heaved Seongje off of him and on to the couch on his back, getting on top of him. His heart thudded inside his chest violently as he lifted his hand again. He hadn't punched yet, but the look on Seongje's face told him this is exactly what he wanted. To make Baekjin lose his composure and dig his nails in the bleeding wound. He stared down at him, breathing slightly heavily.
Seongje smiled with his teeth. "What if Baku walked in and saw us like this? What would he think? Oh wait, I forgot he doesn't care!" He cackled.
Baekjin clenched his jaw. Felt the urge to choke the air out of Seongje. Resisted it and got off of him. He couldn't stoop to Seongje's level. It wasn't worth giving him a reaction.
Seongje watched Baekjin get off of him and felt slight disappointment. He'd finally cracked open that carefully crafted wall around Baekjin, and now, it was up all over again. He sat up again and looked at Baekjin's side profile.
Well, there were other ways to make him crack.
"Remember that night we got drunk and you almost kissed me?"
Baekjin turned his expressionless eyes to him, posture tensing ever so slightly it was almost unnoticeable. His jaw flickered. Of course he remembered. "You think I still want to? How pitiful."
If Seongje insisted on digging at the hideous places, he might just play along. See him break his mock cover up of indifference as if nothing could touch him. There were things over the years that Baekjin had stored away in his mind should he need them. Weaknesses that made him just as human as Baekjin, or the lack thereof.
Seongje stared at him with the blank gleam in his eyes that gave way to hidden emotions he never showed anyone. And then a grin made its way on to his lips. "No. I think you're scared you might still want to." He laughed with his teeth on display, shoulders shaking.
The ugly part of it all was how much they knew about each other like they knew about themselves. The way it so easy to figure out the pattern of thought the other was having in the moment no matter the situation. It was sickeningly comforting to realize that even if no one understood them, they'd always have each other to lay their souls bare to.
Baekjin continued to stare at him. "Or maybe it's you trying to tell yourself it meant something, when in reality, it didn't mean anything." He felt satisfaction unfurl deep in his chest when Seongje's eyes darkened, the smile falling off his lips.
It was a fleeting moment that lasted as long as five seconds before being replaced by the previous look. A practice performance. "Always so controlled. Can't let a weakness shine through, can you?" Seongje took out the third cigarette of the night and brought it to his lips. "I can tell when you're lying." He said, chuckling around the stick as he snatched the lighter from Baekjin's jacket pocket.
"You don't know me."
"It bothers you just how much I do, though." Seongje shrugged, leaning forward on his knees again and bringing his face close to Baekjin's.
Baekjin blinked, felt their knees touching. Didn't flinch away despite feeling like he should. Seongje kept the eye contact.
"What will you do when lose tomorrow?"
It was like Seongje was hoping Baekjin would lose. He most likely was. It would fill his monthly entertainment dose.
Despite the tiredness tugging Baekjin's body down, he pettily reply, "I'll get a new right hand man when I win." He should go home. Get some fucking sleep instead of talking with Seongje of all people. But he unbearably needed someone to believe in him for once. He couldn't do it. Mr. Choi didn't. Baku didn't. Maybe, he was as pathetic as Seongje was saying.
Seongje grinned. Huffed a throaty laugh. "Fuck. Good luck. I don't think anyone likes you around here."
Do you?
"And they do you?" Baekjin challenged.
"I don't seek the approval of others. Just attention."
Well, at least he was self aware. Surprisingly.
Baekjin looked at him with a deadpan expression. His gaze drew down to Seongje's lips and stared at the cigarette between his lips. He looked away. "It's pathetic that you keep holding on to the hope that maybe I'll your reciprocate your little crush."
Seongje howled with laughter. "You think I have a crush on you? A fucking crush? Is that what you tell yourself? Because if I remember correctly, it was you who was almost in my lap, leaning in for a good night kiss."
"And yet, you didn't push me away. So what does that say about you?" Baekjin's jaw tightened.
"You think it's because I have a crush on you? Oh no, it was so entertaining to see you so heartbroken about Baku and act like a coward." Seongje grinned.
Baekjin turned his head to him. "At least I feel. You don't have the ability to do even that."
Seongje blinked, eyes two holes of endless darkness. His lips stretched into a wide smile. "At least I don't chase after someone who clearly doesn't want me because of my feelings."
"You think you're so much better than everyone else, but you're the epitome of emptiness. You don't get to judge."
"But I do. You have the same fucking emptiness inside you that you're trying to fill by chasing after your dear ex-friend." Seongje mocked, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Baekjin was done talking with this fucker. He should have been done since the time Seongje opened his mouth. He got up.
He heard a low chuckle behind him as Seongje shifted on the couch. "I'm start to understand why Baku doesn't want you, you know? It's because you don't have a fucking backbone."
It was so easy to provoke the sleeping beast.
In a split second, Baekjin was on top of him again, landing a punch square on Seongje's nose. Instead of punching back, Seongje looked up at him with a self-satisfied sneer while blood ran down his lips.
"Proved my point." Seongje licked the blood on his mouth, wrapping his arms around Baekjin's waist.
Baekjin's chest heaved with quick breaths. Stared at Seongje's mouth.
Seongje leaned forward and kissed him. Brought him closer until there was no space between their bodies. Baekjin stayed stunned. Didn't kiss back. Tasted the metallic taste of the blood on Seongje's lips. His mouth opened own its own, desire taking over his senses as his lips began moving back against Seongje's. Devouring and burning. The kiss was too much teeth, like trying to swallow each other whole.
It wasn't enough. Baekjin's hand jerked at Seongje's hair, shoved his tongue inside his mouth. Tasted the cigarettes Seongje couldn't stop smoking. Seongje groaned into it, squeezing his waist. Baekjin felt heat tug in his gut, his pants tighten around his cock as Seongje pulled his head back and kissed down his neck. His own clothed hard cock brushed against Baekjin's.
He watched as Baekjin recoiled from the touch, glared down at Seongje's torso. Realized what was happening and got up, eyes widened with bared panic, a flicker of shame swirling along with it. His hands seemed to be shaking by his sides, and Seongje raised a brow, opening his mouth.
Baekjin was gone before he could get a word out.
Seongje stared blankly at the code pad of Baekjin's apartment. He'd accompanied Baekjin there months ago for something he couldn't remember. He'd wrote down the code after peeking over Baekjin's shoulder, but it seemed like the bastard had changed it. Of course he had.
Last time, it was '2954', it couldn't be far off this time. He tried Baekjin's birthday. Didn't work. Tried the four last digits of his phone number. That didn't work either. One more time, and it would alert the security if he got it wrong. He paced back and forth in front of the apartment. Thought for a long time and then rushed to the door. He put in '2025', the year they'd both graduate. It worked. He snorted to himself. Lame.
The apartment was as expected, neat and tidy as a temple. No things were scattered or out of place. Everything seemed to be in harmony as well. The furniture. The walls. Even the fucking curtains matched the theme. He strolled into the kitchen. Opened the fridge. Everything was still fresh looking. Well, he did die just two days ago. He took out a bottle of water and gulped it down.
The living room was medium sized. Behind it was the bedroom, just by the front door. Inside it, a bed on the left side, a desk on the right. A closet stood parallel to the door. He opened it. Looked inside his clothes.
He shook his head, cracking a grin. "Bastard had style." He looked through the T-Shirts. Almost half of them turtlenecks. Seongje never found out why he was so in love with them, but he could see they had a certain appeal. Baekjin looked hot in them anyway. He snorted, pushing past them. There was his uniform in the far back corner. Two pairs of it, of course, because he couldn't wear the same one every fucking day. Clean freak.
The uniform was what Baekjin looked the best in, in Seongje's opinion. He stared at the uniform for a long time. Brought it to his face, smelled the familiar scent of Baekjin. Suppressed a shudder. He took it with him to the bathroom and tried it on.
It fit him a bit bigger than it did on Baekjin, but he smiled all the same. And then sobered up. "I'm Na Baekjin. And I can't stop crying about my ex boyfriend." He said, trying to make his voice sound like Baekjin's. Serious and monotonous. It made him double over into laughter the next second.
He had to admit, the uniform was comfortable. He kept it on as he walked back out of the bathroom and to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, felt the coziness of it and made a humming sound. "Rich fucker." He mumbled, sighing.
What was there to do? He looked up, as if Baekjin was looking down at him from whever the fuck he was—most likely hell. His lips tugged up into a smile. "Are you mad I'm here? Wait until I trash this place." He chuckled, taking his phone out.
The next fours included Seongje gaming on his phone and cursing loudly. During the gaming, he'd gotten up once to get a bunch of snacks and scattered them on the coffee table in front of the couch. Baekjin had the worst taste in snacks. Everything was either organic shit or straight up something he'd never seen before. It all tasted horrible, anyway, so he'd end up opening them all up and making a mess.
His phone rang. His dad. "Fuck. This fucking asshole won't leave me alone." He picked it up and then hung up just as a 'Seongje-' was muttered from the other hand, laughing.
When he looked up from his phone after winning a game, the time showed seven in the evening. He glanced back at the already spread out bags of snacks, and his stomach growled. He sighed and got up.
Rummaging through the many empty shelves of Baekjin's kitchen, he found one that wasn't vacant. He saw the stacks of ramen bowls and grinned to himself. Oh, what a life. He never had to leave this fucking place. There was water. There was food. He could wear Baekjin's clothes. It would annoy him even in the depths of hell.
He boiled some water after figuring out how to work the fucking electric kettle. He brought the ramen back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Turned on the TV. First thing he saw was a discovery channel with lions roaming around currently being shown. He rolled his eyes. Baekjin would be the type of person to watch the most boring shit like the discovery channel. He changed it to YouTube. Typed in a youtuber's name, clicked play, and relaxed back.
At night, he passed out on the couch, Baekjin's uniform long taken off of him. He'd changed into a pale blue t-shirt instead of Baekjin's and kept his pants on.
The next day, he woke around noon time, disoriented. It was one of the best night of sleep he'd ever had. He looked to his right and saw the mess on the coffee table. He trudged himself to the bathroom and took a long shower, using the vanilla scented Body Wash Baekjin had. So that's where he had his mysterious scent from.
After the shower, he threw on one of Baekjin's shirts and a pair of jeans. While he fixed his hair, he looked around the room. There was a closed, white envelope sitting on Baekjin's study desk, and he raised a brow in curiosity. Walking over to it, he read the label on it. 'Orphanage'. He frowned, brought the money up to his eyes, squinting.
What orphanage? Was Baekjin an orphan child? It would track, considering no one in the union knew about his family or where he came from. He looked inside the envelope. It appeared to be more than 1 million won($750). Was it donation money? He searched around the desk to find any clue what orphanage Baekjin was talking about. Wait. Why did he care? It doesn't matter if there was an envelope full of money laying around to donate to an orphanage. It wasn't any of his fucking business.
He was about to close the last drawer he'd opened when his eyes landed on a flyer. His eyes moved on its own. 'Life of hope' orphanage was written at the top with a few dates at the bottom for voluntary services. Seongje stared at it for a long minute. Took it out. Snapped a picture of it and shoved it back inside. He looked back at the envelope. Maybe it might help to know about Baekjin a bit more. He glanced up. "Leaving your chores to me? Really? Bastard." He mumbled, pocketing the envelope as he continued glaring.
He could picture Baekjin's face. Blinking and telling him to fuck off. Well, guess what? He was taking the fucking money to the orphanage whether Baekjin liked it or not.
Since his pocket money was all spent up, Seongje used his legs to walk to the orphanage. It was half an hour away just by foot. How far was it? Very far, apparently. It was in the middle of seemingly nowhere. He stood in front of the building. Felt the weight of the envelop inside his pocket. He snorted, walking inside.
There were kids outside, playing with unbound energy. Seongje took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, looking around. He lit the stick a flame. When he glanced back up, he saw a woman walking over. She seemed to be in her early 40's. Perhaps late 30's. She smiled. "Hello, I'm Manager Yoon! Are you here to volunteer? Also, please refrain from smoking the next time you come here." She added, glancing at the smoke swirls.
Whatever. Seongje inhaled a drag and blew it out, turning his head to the left as he shook his head. "To make a donation." He took out the envelope and handed it to her. She paused, frowning down at it.
"Na Baekjin." Seongje provided, ditching the cigarette on the ground.
Ms. Yoon raised her eyebrows, looking down at the white package. "Baekjin?"
Seongje nodded.
"Why isn't he here? Did something happen?" Her face morphed into the expression of a worried mother.
Well, he's dead. But Seongje refrained from saying that after seeing the woman's face. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing away. She didn't have to know, he guessed. "He's…fine. Busy. That's why he sent me."
"Are you his friend?"
Well, they weren't exactly friends in the traditional sense, but they really did have only each other to an extent. Seongje grinned. "Sure."
Ms. Yoon nodded, heaving a sigh of relief. "He's never mentioned you before." She said, curiously.
Seongje sighed dramatically. "You know him. He's very closed off. Never talks unless required."
"Oh, I know him alright! Come in. Let's talk in my office."
That was easy. Seongje followed behind her inside the building. The hallway was long and littered with rooms left and right. Her office was set at the very end.
She led him inside, and he looked around. Ms. Choi sat down beside her desk and motioned for him to do the same.
Seongje did.
"What's your name?" She asked, putting the envelope in a drawer.
Seongje was bored already. "Keum Seongje. Did Baekjin grow up here?" He'd never thought he would asking such a question.
"Yes. Since he was very small. When he came in, he was very quiet. Didn't like playing with the other children. He even ran away with his sweet potato once." Ms. Yoon chuckled at the memory.
Seongje snorted. That sounds just like him. "Does he donate here every month?" He asked, looking at her.
Ms. Yoon nodded, smiling. "I tell him not to. I worry he's up to some trouble, because the amounts…are often more than you'd expect from a high schooler."
Uh huh. He's running a gang, of course he's making money. Seongje nodded, glancing out the window behind Ms. Yoon's head.
Ms. Yoon eyed him. "Does he?" She asked with her eyebrows lifted.
Seongje chuckled, shaking his head. "Not anything I know of."
And then when Ms. Yoon opened her mouth again, he stood up. "Gotta go."
—oo—
Seongje lit a cigarette on his way back to the apartment. So Baekjin was an orphan child. He wondered if he really should have lied to that lady back there. She seemed to be like his mother figure. Well, she'd find out on her own. It wasn't exactly his duty to go around telling people about it.
He visited the alley on his way. The boys were sitting around, looking visibly dejected as expected after Baekjin's death. He stared at them. Considering slapping each of them back to their sense. Thought better of it and left the place. Whatever. He didn't have the energy or time to do it.
Seongje himself wasn't exactly feeling his best. But he wasn't grieving. He wasn't sad in the way people were when someone they cared for died. He was just frustrated Baekjin had to die. One person he could actually stand to be around without knocking their skulls out. Someone who could hold up his own end to him. Challenge him. Intrigue him.
It bummed him out a bit. He thought of Baku. He was probably having a harder time dealing with it. He hadn't seen him.
The funeral was being held tomorrow. He didn't want to go. Would prove he cared. Didn't want to see the Eunjang boy band all teary eyed anyway. Although, that would be an entertaining sight.
He entered the apartment again. Walked to the kitchen and got out ramen bowl. And then he sat down and ate. The snacks were still there on the coffee table. Baekjin's uniform was laid on the armchair to his left. He glanced up, chewing.
"I'm gonna trash this place so you can roll in your grave. Don't worry. By the way, the uniform really looked sexy on you." He tilted his head up, winking.
The AC started humming behind him, and he sighed, leaning back on the couch after he was finished eating. Well, what else was there to do all day? He turned on the TV and got on his phone, starting a game.
Some boring movie played in the background as he gamed away for the next few hours. In the middle of doing so, his phone rang suddenly. 'Gangnam Style' by PSY played loudly on his phone. His mom. He groaned, throwing his head back.
He ignored it and then a flurry of texts erupted one by one. "Fucking—" His phone rang again.
"What?" Seongje asked into the phone, annoyed.
Ms. Keum sighed in to the phone. "Your dad told me you haven't came home in two days."
"Why does he care? All he does is fucking drink all day."
"Language. He doesn't, but I do. Where are you?"
'Since when did you care too?' was on the tip of Seongje's tongue, but instead, he said, "At a friend's."
"What friend?"
"You don't know him."
His mom quieted for a second. "Are you in trouble?"
"Would they really let me talk to you if I was?" He asked, as if she was dumb.
Ms. Keum shook her head on the other side of the call. "Have me talk to your friend's parents when they're available."
"Okay." Seongje hung up.
As if.
He threw his phone aside and got up with a sigh, stretching his arms out. It was almost dinner time. He didn't wanna have ramen again, so he took his wallet with him and stepped out.
It was too hot outside. Sticky air that made him curse. He decided to pay Baku's dad's chicken shop a visit. See how Baku was holding up.
When he got to the counter, Baku paused in his steps to the kitchen behind, face immediately morphing into a scowl. Seongje chuckled. "You look happy to see me." He said, leaning his arms on the counter.
Baku looked behind him for any waiting customer before turning to him. His eyes were red, dark circles the skin around them, his voice hoarse. "What do you want?"
"Fried chicken, of course. Whatever else could I want from you?" Seongje asked innocently. Besides your ex boyfriend, he thought with a grin.
Baku clenched his jaw, looking at him wearily. He started preparing a box of fried chicken without sparing Seongje another glance.
"Heard the funeral's tomorrow." Seongje pondered, humming.
Baku glared up at him before turning his eyes downwards as he closed the box and passed it to him. "Why would you care? You weren't loyal to Baekjin."
"And you were?" Seongje threw back, smile widening as Baku's eyes comically turned round in shock. "And no, I don't care. But at least I didn't make him chase me like a dog." He tilted his head.
Baku's grip tightened around the box enough to make it cave inside, his eyebrows frowned into a scowl. "Get out."
Seongje chuckled, getting his wallet out. He threw a few cash notes on the counter and nodded to Baku's hands. "The box."
Baku stared defiantly. A person from the back called for Baku's name, and Baku reluctantly handed the box over.
Seongje grinned, doing a fake bow of his head. He took the take-out bag with him and walked out.
The streets were quiet, night dawning on the city. He smoked a xigareete with one hand with his other carrying the fried chicken, walking back to the apartment.
When he got to the apartment, some men were pacing around the hallway in front of Baekjin's apartment. He raised a brow, snorting. No way was he gonna fight before having his fucking dinner. He came to a stop in front of the apartment door. A man was standing in front of it. "Move."
The bald guy looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you Na Baekjin?"
Seongje morphed his face into confusion. "Who?"
Another tattooed man stepped in from the shadows. "Don't act oblivious. Where is Na Baekjin?"
"I don't know who you're referring to. I live here."
"Oh is that right? He's inside, isn't he? Hiding like a coward."
Na Baekjin might be a pathetic fool, but he wasn't a coward. Never a coward. Seongje smiled. "Fuck off."
The punk did not like that. He drew his hand into a fist and came forward. Seongje dodge the attack and kicked him in his gut. The other two ganged up on him, and he placed the take-out bag aside carefully before taking them head on. For someone looking for a fight, they were awfully bad at it. He got pinned once to the balcony edge, a hand around his neck choking the air out of him. He raised his foot and hit the guy's groin, straightening up with an exhale.
They ran away with a last slap from Seongje to the one laying on the ground.
He sighed, wiping the blood off his lips. He went inside with the fried chicken and closed the door behind him.
When he was done eating and showering, he gamed for a few more hours before it struck midnight on the clock.
He contemplated whether he should sleep on the couch again and then got up, walking to Baekjin's bedroom. There was a hint of hesitation inside him at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as Baekjin had done, but there was also the feeling of a sick kind of excitement. Possessiveness. What Baku didn't have would be his—the whole apartment was his. Baekjin's apartment was Seongje's.
He laid down on the bed, turned his head to bury it in the pillow. The overwhelming scent of Baekjin engulfed his senses. Tingling and burning through his skin. He took his clothes off. Laid down on his back. Felt as if he were being hugged by Baekjin himself. Stared up at the ceiling. If Baekjin wasn't mad before, he was now. Seongje was invading his space, laying in his bed like he belonged there, imagining Baekjin beside him in a disgusting attempt to soothe his sorrow.
Seongje would deal with him tomorrow. Sleep came easier that night than it ever had before.
—oo—
His phone buzzed at 10 in the morning and snatched him out of his sleep induced nightmare where Baekjin didn't die, but patched up everything with Baku. He shivered when he sat up, wiping the back of his wrist on his sweaty forehead.
He picked up his phone without looking at it, still reeling from the dream. "What?"
"Seongje, are you coming to boss' funeral today?"
Seongje couldn't remember this guy's name, so he brought the phone in front of his eyes. It was named 'some fucker'. Well. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. "You woke me up to ask me that, bastard?"
"Sorry. Mingyu asked, so I called."
"I'm not coming." He said and hung up, throwing the phone back on the nightstand table. He ran a hand through his hair.
Fuck. Baekjin getting back together with Baku might be worse than Baekjin dying, he thought as he got up and went to the shower.
After breakfast, instead of going to the funeral, he went to a print shop an hour away. It was quiet since when he got there. He looked around, no one seemed to be there. And then when he was about to turn around and walk out, a voice spoke up. "Hello! Sorry, I was in the back working. Please, come in."
Seongje sighed and circled his feet back to the man.
"What can I do for you today?" The man asked, smiling.
Seongje took his phone out and scrolled through the folder named 'Baekjin'. He showed a picture to the man. "A full body cut out of this picture."
The man looked at the picture and nodded. "Oh! Is that your brother?" He asked, getting behind his desk and pulling out a note pad.
Seongje stared at him as if he was stupidly and then cracked a smile. "My boyfriend, actually."
That shut the man up really quickly. He cleared his throat. "Right, uhh, how tall would you say is your…" He nodded to Seongje's phone.
"Boyfriend. Do you need help saying that?" Seongje raised a curt brow, eyeing the man up and down.
"No. Of course, your boyfriend." The man fumbled with a nervous smile.
Seongje mirrored his smile, only cynical. "6'0 feet." In reality, he was 6'3, but Seongje might as well have him an inch shorter than he was.
The employee wrote it down. "And for the cardoboard, we can do standard, foam core or something thicker." He looked up.
"The sturdiest you have."
"Alright." The man jotted down. "And a stand, of course, to keep it standing upright. That would come to around $400. When would be a good time to have the order ready?"
"Today, prefereably."
The man blinked, taken aback. "We can have it done by tomorrow. That's as soon as we can make it."
Seongje sighed heavily, shaking his head as he cast his eyes downward. "It's his birthday today. I was really hoping to surprise him." He said, schooling his voice to sound disappointed.
The owner of the shop saw his expression and swallowed. "Well, with a rush fee and if our biggest printer isn't too preoccupied, we're looking at a price of $324 in total. It would be done around 5 in the evening at our earliest."
Seongje nodded, getting his wallet out. "Have it done by then."
After a few more questions and an import of the picture from his phone to their system, he strolled out into the heat of the summer again. His stomach growled, so he made his way to a convience store and ate his lunch there.
A few hours later, back the apartment, he recived the cutout delivery packed in a box bigger than him. He broght it inside, feeling giddy to open it. If Baekjin himself couldn't be there, at least his cutout could be. The picture he'd given to the owner was of Baekjin standing slightly facing right away from Seongje, his eyes softened with a small smile playing on his lips. It was the same night they'd gotten drunk and almost kissed. There were many other pictures of Baekjin in his gallery over the years, but this one in particular had the best lighting. Baekjin would appreciate that.
He tilted his head up to the ceiling with his hands on his hips once Baekjin's cardboard cut out was standing in front of him. He smirked. "No more chasing Baku, yeah? You get to stay here and here only, in front of my eyes. With your pretty mouth shut. Finally." He sighed dramatically and collasped on the couch, staring at him.
It must be some time before he was done watching, because the sun set outside. He sighed. "Should probably keep you in the bedroom." He said, picking up the cutout and taking it with him to the room.
He put it down just in front of the window, making sure it was facing the bed. He laid down on and turned his head to the left. Nope. Needed a little more angling. He got back up and tilted it more to the right. There. Perfect.
He gives the cutout of Baekjin a toothy smile before petting the top of it. "Gotta go eat."