Chapter Text
Na Baekjin didn’t regret starting to date Baku.
How could he, really, when he’d been the one to fall first? The one who, ever since childhood, had tried every possible way to earn Park Humin’s attention. The one who eventually took the first step and suggested they become something more than just friends.
Baekjin truly didn’t regret it. He liked everything about Baku.
At least, until a week after they started dating, when Baku invited him on a date to the aquarium.
Oh, if only it had been a normal date. Just the two of them – walking around, looking at the sea creatures, Baekjin taking pictures of Baku in the glass tunnels, then heading to the nearby mall to wander through shops and grab something at the food court.
And technically, that was the plan this time too.
The problem was that Baku suggested bringing his friends along. Supposedly so they could “get to know each other’s circle better.” Though, really, it was mostly Baku wanting to get to know Baekjin’s circle because Baekjin already knew Baku’s close friends.
And Baku had a ridiculous number of friends. He was the kind of person who was friends not only with his friends, but with their families, and their friends’ friends too. Sometimes it felt like he knew the entire planet – because whenever Baekjin had a problem, Baku always seemed to know someone who could help.
Baekjin more or less guessed who Baku would bring. Despite the endless number of acquaintances, Baku did have a close inner circle – the people he spent most of his time with and trusted the most. But even that circle was big. At least, big by Baekjin’s standards.
Four of them. Five including Baku.
And Baekjin would be alone.
Fantastic.
Five people hovering over Baekjin, asking questions, poking into his life, all the attention focused on him. A nightmare.
That was exactly why he was now sitting on the couch in a rented apartment, belonging to the one person he could probably call his only friend.
He’d known Geum Seongje since high school. Seongje transferred to Baekjin’s school after middle school, and they stayed in the same class until graduation. Then they enrolled in the same university. They started talking almost immediately after Seongje transferred – both of them lonely in their own way, with personalities that didn’t exactly make socializing easy. They were completely different people, but loneliness bonded them. Seongje was bored to be alone, and Baekjin needed at least one person to talk to in real life, or he would’ve gone feral. They stuck together throughout high school and were still sticking together now, in their third year of university. At this point, it could probably be called attachment.
They never really hung out on purpose. They’d grab food together between classes, sometimes study at one of their places, but that was it. They never went out just to hang out, never wandered around the city, never went to bars or anywhere like that. They were simply there for each other when needed.
Which was why inviting Seongje somewhere outside of school felt incredibly weird and awkward. And it wasn’t even just the two of them to talk about classes or whatever. Baekjin had to introduce him to his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s friends. As his “best friend.”
The chances of Seongje agreeing were below ten percent.
Baekjin sat on Seongje’s couch, one leg crossed over the other, tapping his index finger against his knee. To his right, Seongje sat at his computer, wearing over-ear headphones. Some kind of animated battle played out on his monitor, and Seongje kept clicking his mouse and tapping keys with practiced ease. His focused gaze was locked on the screen, he was completely absorbed in the game.
Baekjin stared at the wall across from him, trying to figure out how to phrase the question in a way that would make Seongje simply say “no” instead of laughing at him, calling him a pathetic loser with no friends and a whipped boyfriend.
Which, honestly, would all be true.
The endless clicking of the mouse started getting on his nerves. It broke his concentration.
So when Baekjin noticed Seongje leaning back in his chair, sliding the headphones down around his neck and stretching with a yawn, he figured it was now or never before Seongje started another match.
“Do you wanna go to the aquarium this weekend?” Baekjin blurted out.
Fine. Let Seongje laugh and insult him all he wanted. The important thing was getting a clear answer right away so Baekjin could figure out what to do next.
Seongje froze mid-stretch, arms raised above his head, then slowly spun his chair around to face Baekjin.
“To where?” Seongje asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked genuinely stunned – an expression Baekjin didn’t see often. Though, given the request, it made sense.
“To the aquarium,” Baekjin repeated, his hand tightening slightly on his knee. “My boyfriend, you know, Park Humin from journalism, invited me and suggested we bring our friends too. So we could get to know each other’s circles and know who to contact, just in case. Like if one of us suddenly disappears from classes or something.” He tried to sound calm and neutral, as usual, but judging by how Seongje’s surprised look slowly melted into his signature grin, it wasn’t working. “And since you’re basically with me all the time at uni, I figured it made the most sense to bring you.”
“Oh wow, you say that like you had other options besides me,” Seongje smirked, turning back toward his desk.
Here we go.
Baekjin stayed quiet. It was the harsh truth, and he didn’t really have a comeback. The odds dropped below five percent.
“If someone had told me back in high school – or fuck, even a year ago – that you’d turn into this much of a doormat, bending over backwards for a guy whose IQ is three times lower than yours and who gets louder than a jet engine the moment he opens his mouth, I would’ve pissed myself laughing,” Seongje continued, spinning lazily in his chair.
Baekjin didn’t react. This was exactly what he’d expected.
“Though, what am I saying? It’s Park Humin,” Seongje snorted. “Your childhood first love. Honestly, it’s starting to feel like borderline pedophilia. You at least keep developing, but it feels like he got stuck mentally around fifth grade.”
“Actually, what he suggested makes sense,” Baekjin said calmly. “If I faint during class and get taken to the hospital, who’s going to know where I am? He could call you and check.”
“You could just give him my number,” Seongje said, turning back to Baekjin and raising an eyebrow like Baekjin was the dumbest person alive.
“He wants to meet you in person,” Baekjin replied, even though he wasn’t entirely convinced by his own explanation. They really could just exchange numbers. But this was Baku – he wouldn’t be satisfied with that. And Baekjin was already starting to feel guilty. He knew Baku’s friends, but Baku didn’t know his. That could easily turn into Humin saying one day that he didn’t trust him.
“So what, if I don’t answer his call, he’ll sketch a police composite of me and tell them I murdered you?” Seongje scoffed, turning away again.
Baekjin’s head was starting to spin.
“Just answer me,” he said sharply. “Are you coming or not? I need to know whether I can count on you or if I should look for someone else.”
“For fuck’s sake, who else?” Seongje groaned, throwing his head back against the chair. “Let’s be real – it’s either you count on me, or you go embarrass yourself alone. Oops. Looks like I’m your only salvation.”
As much as Baekjin hated admitting it, that was true. He looked at Seongje. Seongje was still slowly spinning in his chair, now looking thoughtful. That, too, was rare – Seongje usually made decisions instantly, like every move had been calculated before he was born. If he was actually thinking, the odds climbed back up to ten percent.
“If I agree,” Seongje asked suddenly, “what’s in it for me?”
Now it was Baekjin’s turn to think. Of course Seongje would want something in return. But Baekjin had no idea what he could offer. His options were limited. Money? Too boring for Seongje. And there wasn’t much else Baekjin had.
Though money could come in different forms.
“A donation in one of your games?” Baekjin suggested, nodding toward the computer behind Seongje.
Seongje scoffed.
“Boring.”
Silence fell again. Baekjin desperately tried to think of something – anything – that might amuse Seongje enough to make him agree. Honestly, he’d probably need to buy him an apartment.
“Though, really, what can you offer me besides your endless money?” Seongje said at last, breaking the silence. “You’re such an uninteresting person, Na Baekjin.” He turned back toward him, smiling mockingly.
“You’re lucky I actually need a game donation right now, and I already blew my stipend on another one,” Seongje sighed dramatically, turning back to the computer and opening one of the many games on his desktop. “Money upfront. Then go make your wife happy – or yourself. Honestly, no idea which of you needs this more.”
This outcome was the last thing Baekjin had expected. Not only had Seongje agreed to a request that sounded weird even by Seongje’s standards – he’d agreed quickly, and the price suited him perfectly.
“In that case, tell me how much and I’ll transfer it,” Baekjin said, standing up from the couch, trying to hide the relief in his voice.
“Careful with your words. What if I ask for a million?” Seongje smirked. “Though honestly, for wasting my weekend on you, your underdeveloped boyfriend, and his equally underdeveloped friend group, a million sounds like the bare minimum.”
With that, Seongje put his headphones back on and started a new match.
The conversation was over.
“Guys, this is my boyfriend – Baekjin. Oh. Well, you already know him, haha. Okay, and this is his best friend – uh…”
“Geum Seongje,” Baekjin prompted. Baekjin, not that creature. “We’ve known each other since high school. We’re in the same university now.”
Hyuntak didn’t know what exactly caused his reaction.
Usually, when he met new people, he either didn’t care about them at all, or they somehow managed to win him over right away. People didn’t usually trigger a negative reaction at first glance – maybe because he’d never met those kinds of people before, or maybe because he’d taught himself not to judge anyone too harshly right away.
But not this time.
For some reason, this glasses-wearing guy in a white oversized T-shirt and black joggers, with a look so detached it was like none of this concerned him in the slightest, irritated Hyuntak from the very first second.
He could name a few reasons, actually.
First of all – that indifferent look. Like, at least pretend to be enthusiastic out of basic politeness when you meet your best friend’s boyfriend and his friends for the first time? It was rude as hell.
Second, he reeked of cigarettes from a mile away. And Hyuntak hated the smell of tobacco smoke. His parents had smoked his entire childhood, and because he was sensitive to smoke, he’d spent years practically choking on it. So now he didn’t just avoid smoking himself – he avoided smokers altogether.
He hadn’t figured out the third reason yet, but honestly, those two already felt like more than enough to be skeptical of someone who hadn’t even looked at him properly when they were introduced.
Fuck, he hadn’t even introduced himself – Baekjin had done it for him.
Hyuntak decided he didn’t need to look at him again. He’d already seen enough. Yeah, he was attractive. Yeah, the mole under his eye was kind of nice (why had he even noticed that?). But that was it. Not his type.
He hadn’t even expected Baekjin to bring anyone at all.
Baku had told him about his brilliant idea, and Hyuntak immediately imagined how blindsided Baekjin must’ve been. He didn’t look like someone who had a lot of friends – honestly, not even one. Hyuntak had never seen him with anyone other than Baku. So he’d fully prepared himself for Baekjin to show up alone today, had even felt a bit sorry for him, and mentally promised not to talk to him too much so he wouldn’t feel even worse.
But no. Baekjin disappointed him – and brought this thing instead.
Some kind of unclear creature who hadn’t said a single word and hadn’t looked at anyone for more than a second.
Baekjin glanced around their small group.
“Where’s the one with the short bangs? Ahn Suho?” he asked.
“Oh, he said he couldn’t make it – work’s been insane,” Baku replied, scratching the back of his head. “So Sieun’s gonna have to survive today without his personal shield against overly talkative people.”
“How is he even gonna survive your presence now,” Hyuntak muttered. Baku didn’t hear him.
And for some reason, so did Seongje.
He finally spared Hyuntak a brief glance and let out a short hum, clearly evaluating the comment.
Hyuntak’s eye twitched.
After Baku and Baekjin exchanged a few more words, they all finally headed toward the aquarium from the mall lobby where they’d met.
Since Baekjin and Baku were walking ahead together – Baku animatedly talking to his new victim – the rest of them were forced to trail behind and survive in Seongje’s company.
It wasn’t the first time they’d gone somewhere without Suho. He often got called in for weekend shifts. Even then, they usually managed just fine. Sieun tended to stay quiet, while Hyuntak and Juntae played the role of clowns, keeping both him and themselves entertained with stupid conversations. And most importantly – Baku was usually there too, the head clown himself.
With Suho, it was even easier. He and Sieun would peel off together, while Hyuntak, Baku, and Juntae talked about their own stuff.
But now there was no Suho at all.
And no Baku nearby.
Instead, there was Geum Seongje.
So uncomfortable that even Sieun looked visibly tense, and Juntae had gone quiet too. Hyuntak had no one to talk to.
Well, except Seongje.
But Hyuntak had more IQ than Baku, at least enough not to voluntarily talk to this exhibit. Hell, he hadn’t even heard Seongje speak properly yet, didn’t know what kind of person he was – and still had zero desire to interact with him.
And there it was. The third reason.
Because of this guy, an awkward silence hung between everyone (except Seongje, of course). And where exactly was the “relaxing day off” they were supposed to have after a long week?
By the time they reached the aquarium, nothing had changed. Baku and Baekjin were still chatting up front, while the remaining four dragged along behind them in complete silence.
Inside the aquarium, nothing improved either. Baku and Baekjin wandered off together to look at the tanks, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. And the moment Hyuntak stepped aside to check how much fish food cost at a vending machine, Juntae and Sieun disappeared somewhere too.
Amazing friends. Truly.
So Hyuntak was left alone with Seongje.
Incredible.
Seongje leaned against the wall near the machine, hands in his pockets, looking at Hyuntak with the same detached expression. Well, at least this time he was looking at him for longer than a second.
So what was Hyuntak supposed to do? Go look for Juntae and Sieun? It made sense, sure – but he’d seen pictures of this aquarium. Way too many corridors and intersections. With an eighty-percent chance, he’d just end up running around like an idiot, scanning crowds for familiar faces.
Luckily – or unfortunately – Seongje decided to speak first.
“Did I kill someone in your family in a past life or something?” Seongje asked, still eyeing Hyuntak calmly.
Hyuntak snorted.
“Doubt it. Everyone in my family’s a professional athlete.”
“Then why are you glaring at me like I personally ruined your life?” Seongje said, pulling one hand out of his pocket and adjusting his glasses. “Pretty sure this is our first time meeting.”
That was the problem – Hyuntak couldn’t name a single reasonable reason. Say he was offended by how Seongje didn’t give a shit? Childish. Say he smelled like smoke? Even better.
“Just surprised Baekjin has friends,” Hyuntak replied simply. Which, to be fair, was true.
“Fair, but how is that my problem?” Seongje said indifferently, pushing off the wall. “Go burn a hole in his back, not mine.”
He started walking down the corridor, leaving Hyuntak standing alone by the vending machine, silently cursing his wonderful friends.
But then Seongje stopped and turned around.
Apparently Hyuntak really did look pathetic, because after giving him a once-over, Seongje smirked. That only made Hyuntak angrier.
“You’re gonna buy that fish food, right?” Seongje said, still grinning. “Share with me. I wanna get something out of this useless hangout.”
Hyuntak was about to snap – tell him to buy his own shit and ask why the hell he should share anything with someone he’d just met – but then he realized… it actually worked in both their favor.
Hyuntak didn’t want to wander the aquarium alone like a total loser. And Seongje clearly needed something to do. They could use each other for a bit.
At the cost of Hyuntak’s wallet.
So he sighed heavily, bought the damn fish food, and joined Seongje.
They walked in silence, because there really were no topics to talk about. Sure, they could’ve at least introduced themselves properly, but Seongje clearly didn’t give a shit, and Hyuntak had no desire to get to know this person any better. The smell of cigarette smoke still irritated him too much, so he kept a careful distance from Seongje – far enough to avoid the worst of it, but close enough not to drift too far away.
As they moved deeper into the aquarium, Hyuntak kept glancing around, searching for familiar faces, but all he saw were strangers – families, couples, groups of friends. Well. Guess this was his karma for something – to spend a day at the aquarium with Seongje.
They stopped near an improvised pond filled with koi fish. A crowd had gathered there, people leaning over and feeding the fish, so the place was clearly meant for that. Without asking, Seongje took the bag of food from Hyuntak, poured some into his palm, and bent over the water. The fish instantly swarmed toward him.
Watching the poor things desperately opening and closing their mouths, gulping food from Seongje’s hand, bumping into each other and snapping at the air, Hyuntak couldn’t hold back a laugh. Seongje seemed amused too.
“They look just like your glasses-wearing friend,” Seongje laughed, pulling his hand away after a while and wiping his palm on his pants. “Same dumb, bulging eyes.”
Hyuntak grimaced.
“Too bad there aren’t any blobfish here,” he shot back. “That one definitely looks like you.”
Seongje straightened up and turned toward him, looking at him with open amusement.
“I wasn’t talking about you, but it still got under your skin. Funny. You the type who takes insults aimed at your friends personally?”
“No,” Hyuntak said flatly. “I just remembered that fish exists and made the association.”
Seongje tilted his head and studied him with interest.
“So what did I actually do to you? Hating someone for no reason doesn’t exactly reflect well on your intelligence.”
Hyuntak raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? So comparing someone you’ve known for maybe an hour to a fish and calling their eyes ‘dumb and bulging’ is proof of your incredible IQ?”
Seongje didn’t respond. For a moment, they just stared at each other – Hyuntak irritated and tense, Seongje amused and curious. Hyuntak’s gaze kept catching on that stupid mole under Seongje’s eye, and he didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it looked too cute on such an idiotic face, enough of a contrast to draw attention.
Eventually, Seongje broke eye contact and, without another word, headed toward the aquarium tunnel. Hyuntak had no choice but to follow.
The tunnel really was incredible – just like in the pictures. Fish of all sizes and colors glided past along the walls and ceiling. The tanks were lit in blue, purple, and neon hues, with some sections glowing white, all of it reflecting through the tunnel and creating a breathtaking view.
For a while, Hyuntak forgot Seongje even existed. He moved from section to section, watching the sea creatures with genuine excitement. Whenever something swam overhead, he followed its path with his eyes, wondering where it would turn next. When a ray drifted close to the glass, Hyuntak immediately stepped closer, transfixed.
At one section, a massive school of white fish swept past them. Hyuntak couldn’t resist – he pressed his hand to the glass, half-hoping that, like in cartoons, they’d all swim up to him and somehow connect. Some of the fish startled and darted away, but others lingered, keeping their distance while studying his palm. It was so beautiful and unusual that Hyuntak couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Seongje looking at him and smiling in a strange way, but the sight in front of him was too captivating to worry about that external annoyance.
The rest of their walk went much the same way. They mostly walked in silence. Hyuntak stopped at different tanks, examined the fish, took photos. Seongje occasionally made snide comments – asking if Hyuntak was seeing catfish for the first time in his life – and compared all of Hyuntak’s friends to various fish (interestingly, he never compared Hyuntak himself to anything). He followed Hyuntak everywhere, stole the fish food in feeding zones, and crouched over the tanks. In the end, Seongje used up all the food, not Hyuntak.
The only time Seongje seemed genuinely interested was when they passed the sharks. He chuckled at something, pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture of one that looked distinctly unfriendly as it swam by.
Hyuntak only deserved a comparison later, when they entered the reptile section with the snakes.
“You kind of look like that one,” Seongje said with a hum as they passed a viper. “Spitting venom at me just because I get closer than two meters.”
Hyuntak rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say anything to you until you started first,” he pointed out.
Seongje chose not to reply.
Strangely enough, the stench of cigarette smoke didn’t bother Hyuntak as much anymore. Either Seongje smoked some special brand that wasn’t as irritating, or Hyuntak had simply gotten used to it. Which was odd – because with his parents, the smell had never stopped bothering him.
Eventually, the strange walk came to an end. Near the administration desk, Hyuntak finally spotted familiar faces. Baku was still enthusiastically talking to Na Baekjin, who looked absolutely exhausted and was just nodding along. Hyuntak might’ve felt sorry for him if he weren’t still annoyed about being ditched.
He was annoyed with Juntae and Sieun too, who stood off to the side, staring in surprise as Hyuntak walked out of the aquarium with Seongje. Well, Juntae looked genuinely shocked. Sieun only widened his eyes slightly. As if they weren’t the ones who’d abandoned him alone with this creature.
They finally split up – Seongje headed toward Baku and Baekjin, while Hyuntak hurried over to the two traitors.
“And why did you ditch me like that?” Hyuntak asked, offended, brushing off his clothes as if Seongje had contaminated them just by existing.
Juntae smiled awkwardly.
“When you went to the vending machine, we saw a tour group that was about to start an aquarium tour, so Sieun and I joined it. Geum Seongje was still with you, so we figured it wouldn’t hurt if you walked around together and got to know each other a bit,” he scratched the back of his head. “And then you could tell us what kind of guy he is.”
“Amazing,” Hyuntak muttered.
He would’ve much rather gone on that tour with his friends – even if it meant stopping at every tank and listening to ten minutes of overly detailed facts about each creature. At least he’d have been with people he actually liked, not someone he’d known for half an hour and who irritated him just by existing.
“So?” Sieun spoke up. “What’s Geum Seongje like?”
“An ordinary asshole with an inflated ego,” Hyuntak replied. Absolute truth.
Juntae and Sieun nodded in understanding, and Juntae immediately launched into an excited retelling of everything they’d learned on the tour. Hyuntak listened carefully, doing his best not to think about Seongje, who stood a few meters away talking to Baekjin.
Eventually, Baku finished his own enthusiastic monologue, and he, Baekjin, and Seongje joined the rest.
“So, food court?” Baku asked brightly, slinging an arm over Hyuntak’s shoulder.
Oh no. He had to endure Seongje’s presence there too? God, this really wasn’t his day.
Just as Hyuntak started wondering what he’d done wrong lately, Baekjin interrupted.
“Sorry, but Seongje and I still have some uni stuff to take care of, so we’ll have to skip this time,” Baekjin said apologetically.
Thank God.
Baku really lucked out with his boyfriend, Hyuntak thought, struggling to suppress the relieved smile threatening to spread across his face. He managed – only because he noticed Seongje shooting Baekjin a confused look and snorting softly. What was that about?
“Another project?” Baku groaned, removing his arm from Hyuntak’s shoulder. “How do you even survive this? No rest even on weekends. Fine, go eat somewhere after, okay? With your workload, you need proper food.”
Then Baku stepped closer and pecked Baekjin on the lips. Both Hyuntak and Seongje snorted in disgust.
Baku turned to Seongje.
“Nice meeting you, Seongje. You seem like a good guy. I’d just recommend smoking a bit less,” he said, patting him on the shoulder.
Seongje’s face twisted.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to take your incredibly important opinion into account,” he replied sarcastically.
Then he turned, cast one last glance at Hyuntak, and headed for the exit without waiting for Baekjin. Baekjin nodded goodbye to the others, smiled at Baku, and hurried after him.
Finally. He could relax.
Hyuntak and the rest headed to the food court, loudly discussing the aquarium – how beautiful it was, which animals impressed them the most, and how they definitely needed to come back someday.
Only later that evening, when Hyuntak was walking home alone along a path carpeted with yellow leaves, did he feel something in his pocket. He pulled it out and recognized the empty packet from the damn fish food he’d bought at the aquarium – the one that had ended up entirely in Seongje’s hands.
He’d really just wasted his money on that idiot.
Hyuntak sincerely hoped that would be the first and last time he ever saw Seongje. This guy stirred up too many inexplicably negative emotions, and it was exhausting. And if something ever happened to Baekjin and they needed Seongje’s help, Hyuntak would be the very last person to go to him.
The packet still smelled faintly of familiar cigarette smoke.