Chapter Text
“Wooyoung-ah! Two girls just came in asking for you.” Mingi called over the noise of the crowded bar. Wooyoung smiled, setting down the glass he’d been cleaning and swinging into the chaos of the floor. “Those tourist ones from last night.”
Wooyoung cheered a quiet ‘yes!’, pumping his fist in celebration. Mingi laughed at him fondly, handing off a list of orders to Seonghwa where he was shaking drinks and making idle chatter with a woman Wooyoung had overheard giving him the excruciating details of her divorce for the past half hour. Seonghwa had the patience of a saint, to be sure, and it helped that he was just the kind of person you felt compelled to tell anything to. Wooyoung always thought he would have made an excellent therapist if he’d been able to pursue it.
Wooyoung pulled the elastic from his ponytail, hair falling down to brush his shoulders as he rolled up his sleeves and checked his earrings, settling into the more casual persona he used when on the floor as opposed to behind the bar. If it weren’t for the all-black outfit and apron, he was sure he could get confused for a normal patron. He certainly enjoyed feeling like it.
“Hey, girls!” Wooyoung said as he made it to the table, the two girls woo-ing greetings back at him. “How was your first full day in the city?”
One of the girls, the louder of the two by far, launched into an explanation of their day, including how they’d absolutely adored the little brunch spot he’d recommended them when they’d come in last night looking for things to do while in Seoul. Wooyoung was pretty sure they were abroad students from America or Europe, their Korean being way too well-learnt for just the average tourist but not polished enough to be native. Wooyoung thought it was a good balance. He could hold okay conversation with some of the random tourists that stumbled into the bar, but it was always more comfortable when he wasn’t having to get his stress-addled brain to cooperate with English. It was kind of why he liked these two so much. That, and they were fun without being flirty, which Wooyoung always appreciated.
“Can I get you two some drinks?” Wooyoung asked when it seemed like the girl was starting to get too deep into her story-telling. Wooyoung wouldn’t be too surprised if they’d already had drinks with dinner or something. And while a part of him did enjoy hearing about their adventures, the bar was busy enough on Saturdays that he could never afford to get too deep into any one conversation.
“Ugh, please.” The comparatively quieter girl asked, rattling off a drink order for herself and the other girl, who didn’t seem to mind the way she took charge. Wooyoung’s pen dragged across the order pad, letting the girls complain to him about public transport and absentmindedly flicking his gaze around the surrounding area to see if there were some other tables nearby he could check in on. He was a little startled when he looked up to find one man in particular staring at him quite intently. He had a sharp jawline and was dressed in a suit too nice for it to be worth anything less than two million won, sat at a table alone and eyeing Wooyoung with barely concealed interest. Wooyoung tried not to let his eyes linger too long, even as his mind stayed stuck on the brief moment of eye-contact. The guy was pretty handsome, but Wooyoung had been burnt a few times too many to think looks meant anything about whether or not someone had the potential to be a creep. Oftentimes it was the most attractive men who he or one of his coworkers ended the night complaining about.
Still, Wooyoung was nothing if not curious. So after he promised the girls he’d be back soon with their cocktails, his immediate next stop was the man in the suit. There were no empty glasses on the table in front of him, so Wooyoung could only assume he was a new arrival. He put on his best half-flirt smile once he reached the man’s table.
“Long day?” He asked, watching the man sit back.
“You could say.” He said cryptically.
“What can I get you?” Wooyoung asked, and when the guy just continued to look him over he cleared his throat. He felt like a bug beneath a microscope, and he didn’t really appreciate it. “Do you want to hear the specials?”
“You work here full time?” The man asked, finally meeting Wooyoung’s eyes. Wooyoung immediately got the sense that this man was going to turn out to be handsome-comma-creepy, and not just handsome. Wooyoung bit back a sigh at the revelation. It was too bad, he really was good-looking.
“My hyung owns the place.” Wooyoung said in lieu of a clear answer, and also as a sort of vague threat. While it didn’t always work, it was sometimes enough to let creeps know that he absolutely had someone on his side.
“Are you making much?” The man asked, and Wooyoung stood up straighter. Okay, didn’t work. New approach.
“Only when I’m working.” Wooyoung said, grip on his pen tense enough that if he were any stronger it could have burst. “What do you want to drink?”
“I’m not here for a drink. I already told your colleague that.” The man said, and alarms went off in Wooyoung’s head. How long had this guy been here, refusing service? Why hadn’t one of his coworkers complained about it yet, or asked Seonghwa to come over and scare him into either ordering or leaving? What the hell did he want? “I’m sorry, I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Choi San, CEO of Choi Enterprises.”
Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose without his wanting them to. It wasn’t unusual for them to get bosses or CEOs, or even high-profile clients in general, but usually they were here with their employees or with other businessmen looking to make deals over bottles of soju. And they usually didn’t introduce themselves so outright. He tried to smooth his expression back out, giving his name out of politeness alone. “Wooyoung.”
“I have a proposal for you, Wooyoung-ssi.” The man said, and Wooyoung immediately regretted telling him his name. Wooyoung didn’t even know why he was still standing here. “It’s a paid position.”
Even ignoring the obvious shadiness of what was going on here, Wooyoung was a little insulted that this guy thought that would be enough to pique his interest. He was also starting to worry that maybe this wasn’t just the kind of creep he could easily scare off. “I’m being paid. To get your drink order. So if you’d maybe like to tell me what that is?”
“I’ve recently been told that I lack relatability with the public.” He barreled on, as if Wooyoung hadn’t said a thing. Wooyoung had to bite back a ‘you don’t say.’ “I’ve been told getting a partner would help in that area.”
Wooyoung’s eyes darted towards the bar as if Seonghwa or one of his coworkers would magically overhear and come save him from whatever the hell was happening right now. “That’s great. There’s an escort service around here, I think.”
“Ah, I don’t need an escort.” The man said. “I’m interested in hiring you. It’s an easy job, a few public appearances here and there to help with image.”
There it is. Wooyoung could hardly believe what he was hearing. He scoffed at the man in front of him, a hand on his hip and cocking his head, all semblance of propriety forgotten in trying to get this man to back off. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not for purchase. I have a job, and I like doing it.”
“Do you have a partner?” Mr. Choi Whoever said. Wooyoung had to grind his jaw to keep from screaming at him. “Because that’s all I’m really asking.”
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?” Wooyoung asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the table where he still had two perfectly nice, perfectly normal girls waiting on him to get them their drinks. “No offense, but I am on the clock.”
“When do you get off?” The guy asked. Yep, Wooyoung was for sure telling on this guy to Seonghwa the next chance he got.
“Three a.m.” Wooyoung lied, hoping it would dissuade the guy from staying to talk to him after his shift. Luckily, the guy did look suitably put off. Wooyoung stilled carefully when he reached into his suit jacket. He was willing to stand his ground, not so willing to die during a shift. If he saw even a hint of metal he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
But the guy didn’t pull out any sort of weapon, instead producing a sleek white envelope, somehow completely unwrinkled even from being in a suit jacket Wooyoung assumed all night. The guy held out the envelope to Wooyoung as he stood. “Think about it. My information is enclosed.”
Yeah right, Wooyoung thought as he took the envelope and shoved it in the pocket of his apron just to appease the guy, this thing was going straight in the trash. “Good to know.”
“Has to be better pay than whatever you’re making here.” The guy said, brushing his pants off like they’d been dirtied from the chair he’d been sitting in. Wooyoung decided to ignore the comment. He was offended on Seonghwa’s behalf for the guy essentially implying he thought the place was cheap, but the man was unfortunately probably right. He didn’t care what this guy offered to pay him, though. Even if it was ten times his current pay, Wooyoung couldn’t be bought.
“Goodnight, sir.” Wooyoung said as politely as he could manage before redirecting his attention to the patrons nearby. He rushed his round as much as he could before returning to the bar, sidling up beside Seonghwa as he was pouring a drink and setting down the order pad in front of him. He cleared his throat as he did so. “Hyung?”
“Yes, Woo?” Seonghwa asked, quiet enough to not be heard by patrons but loud enough to be heard by Wooyoung over the din of the bar. It was something he’d been masterful at for years. Wooyoung would never really know how he did it. Just one of the many little talents of Park Seonghwa.
“Creep at table seven.” Wooyoung reported, Seonghwa’s eyes darting up towards that section of the bar. “He left, but he was really freaky and implied he’d wait for my shift to end.”
“I’ll walk you to your car. We’ll go out the back.” Seonghwa said, face betraying no fear even with his clipped tone. “Don’t leave without me. And if you see him hanging around, come get me.”
“Thanks, hyung.” Wooyoung smiled, Seonghwa giving him a light reassuring pat on the wrist. Wooyoung caught Mingi’s eye out on the floor a moment later, and dipped away from the bar again to help him out with an overwhelmingly loud party of people who’d just crashed through the doors. The rest of the night passed surprisingly quickly, no more creepy interactions or men in too-nice suits with too-nice faces to be seen. Worry rolled off his back with his sweat under the colorful lights and fast pace. Like always, Seonghwa had to remind him when it was the end of his shift.
“Wait for me in the back, okay?” Seonghwa asked, dabbing sweat from his brow with a dishcloth he immediately deposited in their little dirty cloth basket. It took Wooyoung a moment to remember why he’d need to. “Mingi’s break should be over soon, and I’ll take you once he can cover the bar for me.”
“Alright, hyung!” Wooyoung chirped dutifully, taking a crate of dirty glasses with him and using his back to push open the door to the small kitchen they had, leaving the crate of dishes with their dishwasher, Youngmi. The sound of his name caught his attention as he slipped past her. He looked up to see his coworker Minhee, who worked mainly kitchen duty, trying to wave him over and threw her an apologetic smile. He’d usually love to stop and chat. Minhee was his favorite coworker to gossip with since she was hardly ever busy anyway and he could just come see her on breaks, and it always sucked to leave her hanging. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d remember whatever it was she was going to tell him. “Sorry, Minhee-noona, I’m clocking out early tonight.”
“Yah! Lucky!” She called after him, making him laugh as he pushed through the door into the connecting break room. He stopped as soon as he noticed Mingi pacing the small room with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yunho-hyung, it’s—” Mingi let out an impatient sigh, arm not holding the phone crossed over his chest tightly. “I don’t want to do this right now, please. Just go to sleep, okay? I’ll be home soon.”
Wooyoung grimaced in sympathy. Yunho meant well, of course, but he always was somewhat disapproving of Mingi’s part-time gig at the bar. Wooyoung had heard Mingi complain about it enough times to know that it was because Yunho thought it wasn’t worth how much stress it put Mingi under. And ever since Mingi had gotten his job teaching part-time at a local grade school, Yunho had only gotten more insistent. Mingi had told him again and again that the school didn’t care and that they were too in need of the money for rent to worry about it, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Wooyoung had overheard Seonghwa talking to Hongjoong about putting out a job listing around the time Mingi got his teaching job. He didn’t know for sure that it was related, but he’d not be surprised.
“I know, hyung.” Mingi said, quieter. “It was just one guy. He didn’t even do anything. Besides, you know Seonghwa-hyung would never let something happen to me.”
Wooyoung’s brow furrowed in concern as Mingi went quiet, listening to whatever Yunho was saying over the phone.
“Okay. Okay. I love you too. Goodnight.” Mingi mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took the phone away from his ear, hanging up and sighing. He looked up a moment later, jumping when he noticed Wooyoung standing in the doorway. He smiled sheepishly, pocketing his phone. “Hey, Woo.”
“Hey. Everything okay?” Wooyoung asked as he navigated to get his things from his locker.
“Yeah, Yunho-hyung is overprotective and men are weird. You know how it is.” Mingi shrugged, shoulders dropping a little too heavily even as he tried to play it off.
“Sure do.” Wooyoung said, thinking back to the creep from earlier that night. Wooyoung opened his mouth to start complaining about him to Mingi, hoping they could commiserate, when the door opened and one of their coworkers popped her head in.
“Hey, Mingi-yah, I know your break only just ended but Seonghwa-oppa wanted me to come tell you he needs you to cover the bar.” Yuna, the other coworker Wooyoung shared floor duty with, explained.
“Is he okay?” Mingi asked, worry coloring his tone. Seonghwa really only asked Mingi to cover or help with the bar when he was overwhelmed or when something bad happened, preferring to man it himself or with the other dedicated bartender they had, Junmin. Wooyoung could probably count on his hands how many times Mingi had actually bartended, even though it was what he’d initially been trained for.
“He’s gonna walk me to my car.” Wooyoung said, succeeding in getting a little of the worry in Mingi’s eyes redirected at him. He waved it off. “It’s fine. Just a precaution, I’m pretty sure the guy left hours ago.”
“If you say so.” Mingi said, reaching back to tighten the bow on his apron and rolling his sleeves back up. “See you tomorrow, Youngie.”
“See you!” Wooyoung called as Yuna and Mingi disappeared out the door. He flopped backwards onto the little slightly-shitty couch and pulled out his phone to scroll around until Seonghwa got there. He had a missed text from Yeosang asking him to get coffee the next afternoon, which Wooyoung knew by now was code for ‘it’s been a long week and I really need to talk to someone I’m not therapizing for once.’ Wooyoung quickly texted back that he’d love to, only just finishing the string of emojis he sent with it when Seonghwa came through the door. He hopped up off the couch quickly, letting Seonghwa shepherd him from the break room and to the back door that lead out from the kitchen into a little alleyway which connected to the street in such a way that someone leaving from there was conveniently in a blind spot from anyone hanging around trying to catch them on their way out of the bar. Wooyoung had dubbed it the ‘emergency exit,’ even though it legally wasn’t. He’d used it for himself and others a number of times, so he knew the way well enough. Seonghwa really only insisted on walking him because he was a mother hen, not that Wooyoung minded.
“When will you be home?” Wooyoung asked as they made their way down the strip of businesses to the parking garage where Wooyoung left his car during work.
“Probably around five.” Seonghwa said, running a hand through his hair with a heaviness Wooyoung knew meant he wasn’t exactly happy about it. Wooyoung wouldn’t be either. This was the third time Seonghwa was staying past closing this week. “I have to do some paperwork. Something about one of our suppliers upping prices.”
“Can’t do it at home?” Wooyoung asked, frowning slightly.
“I don’t want to accidentally wake Joongie.” Seonghwa said, with a little fond huff. “It’s like he has a sixth sense for when I get home or something. And I don’t want him to get woken up if I can’t immediately come to bed.”
“Ah, yeah. Forgot about hyung’s Seonghwa-sense.” Wooyoung teased, and Seonghwa shook his head.
“Well, it has been a long night for you.” Seonghwa said with thinly veiled concern. Wooyoung knew it was his way of asking for more details, specifically if Seonghwa needed to be on lookout for any specific people so he could kick them out if they came in again. Wooyoung didn’t think it was worth it at this point, but he’d probably tattle if the guy ever showed up again. Seonghwa seemed to gather as much from Wooyoung’s lack of response. “Are you going straight home?”
“That was the plan.” Wooyoung said, taking his keys from his pockets as they entered the parking garage and started climbing the stairs. The elevator had been broken for nearly a month now, and Wooyoung had spent the whole time being pissed that his assigned spot was on the third floor. Mingi always told him it was ‘good exercise,’ which always made Wooyoung want to punch him in the mouth. Mingi was lucky he was too cute to bully for being such a gymbro. “Why? Need me to pick something up?”
“Not really.” Seonghwa said as they passed the second floor sign. “Just mail. I’ll get it when I come in.”
“Alright, hyung.” Wooyoung said. They made it to his car shortly thereafter, and Wooyoung gave Seonghwa a short hug goodbye before slipping into the driver’s seat and starting up his cranky old Kia. Seonghwa was walking away before the car could even pull out of the space, seemingly eager to get back to the bar.
Wooyoung kept the windows rolled down as he drove, enjoying the chill of the fresh night air against his skin and in his hair. Music poured from his speakers and flooded the car, Wooyoung’s voice swimming alongside it. He tried to soak up the moment as much as possible, but as always, the drive was far too short. Before he knew it he was pulling the car into his designated spot beside Seonghwa’s and rolling the window up. He hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind him, knowing it needed the heft or else it wouldn’t latch properly. He made the quick walk into the lobby of their apartment building and was happy to relish in the comfort of an elevator up to their sixth-floor apartment. He leaned against the hand bar and closed his eyes as he felt it lurch into action.
Wooyoung had been living with Hongjoong and Seonghwa in their ‘guest room’ for almost six years now, after a bad relationship led to him losing his scholarship and any hopes he had of actually seriously pursuing dance and not ending up broke on the side of the road. It was meant to be a temporary arrangement, as was Wooyoung’s job at Seonghwa’s bar, but when years started passing and Wooyoung got no closer to actually being able to make something for himself without help they’d all sort of resigned themselves to the situation. Wooyoung still couldn’t completely shake the preoccupation that he was bothering them, feeling like a leech on Seonghwa’s life especially. Seonghwa would say that he didn’t care, that he was fine with it, that Wooyoung wasn’t taking anything from him, but Wooyoung knew it couldn’t be all sunshine. If he were in Seonghwa’s situation, having already had to give up so much in life and then having to give up even more just because his friend couldn’t get his act together, he wasn’t sure he’d be as fine with it as his hyung tried to be.
Then again, maybe that was the difference between them. Seonghwa always was too good for his own, well, good. It didn’t mean Wooyoung would ever feel a hundred-percent comfortable being the burden he was.
Wooyoung untied his apron and threw it haphazardly onto the desk chair he’d condemned to being a place for his dirty laundry to pile, before slipping into the bathroom and peeling off the rest of his sweaty uniform. He carefully washed the little bit of mascara and foundation from his face before hopping in the shower and being as fast as possible. As if it made Hongjoong any less likely to wake up from the sound of water hitting tile where he was sleeping in the adjacent room. Or should be sleeping. Wooyoung knew he had a tendency to stay up late working on production projects, and he’d passed by Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room after work a couple times to find the door open and Hongjoong slumped at the desk in the corner instead of in bed.
Wooyoung made sure to duck into the room after he was clean and changed into pajamas to check to see if Hongjoong really was sleeping, unsurprised when he saw him passed out in front of his monitor. Wooyoung crept across the room and shook him awake gently, receiving a muffled groan in response.
“Hyung, you fell asleep at your desk again.” Wooyoung whispered, and Hongjoong lifted his head to blink at him blearily before seeming to register Wooyoung’s words and where he was. “Don’t want you to strain your neck.”
“Thanks, Youngie-ah.” Hongjoong mumbled, rustling Wooyoung’s hair as he stood up and promptly stumbled across the room to collapse into bed. Wooyoung smiled and nodded approvingly to himself.
“Goodnight, hyung.” He said, getting a barely audible hum in response. He made his way to his own bed shortly afterwards, flopping onto sheets he really needed to get around to washing soon. At least before Seonghwa took it upon himself and used his way-too-strong-smelling fabric softener that only made Wooyoung’s nosehairs burn when it was used for his bedding, for some reason. Could he just as easily tell Seonghwa not to use it? Sure, but Wooyoung was not in the business of asking for too much. Or asking for anything at all, if he could help it.
Wooyoung fell asleep staring at the ceiling like it had answers for him. Like every night, he was out before it could respond.
—
“Wooyoung-ah! Slow down!” Changbin’s voice called after him, completely unheeded as Wooyoung continued on sprinting through the halls of the near-empty performing arts building. It had only been a day since Wooyoung finally transferred from his old, much more obnoxiously uptight university to this nicer artsy one. Now, he was trying to hunt down the reason for his transfer in the first place, who’d said he was still practicing and told Wooyoung he could probably catch him if he hurried. So here he was, hurrying. Changbin had tagged along through no want of his own, having been hanging out with Wooyoung and touring him around campus when Wooyoung insisted they needed to go find Yeosang before they could do anything else. Changbin didn’t protest, but by the time they even made it to the performing arts building, Wooyoung was pretty sure his lungs were. “You’re going to—”
Changbin didn’t get to finish his sentence before Wooyoung was rounding a corner and immediately colliding with something at top speed. He tripped over himself, crashing unceremoniously into the wall and then promptly to the ground. He blinked, squinting at where a tall-ish and extremely pretty man was picking himself up off the ground, wincing as he fumbled for his bag.
“See?” Changbin lectured, extending a hand to the pretty man and not Wooyoung, which he determinedly didn’t feel betrayed by. “I’m sorry about that. My friend’s a little crazy.”
“Yah! You’re calling me crazy?” Wooyoung said in offense, pulling himself up to standing and pouting at Changbin. “How was I supposed to know there’d be someone there?”
“You could have slowed down! Like I told you to!” Changbin argued, and Wooyoung went to yell back when he noticed how the stranger was looking increasingly bewildered, shrinking back at the raised voices. Wooyoung stopped himself, giving the stranger a smile and lowering his voice to a more reasonable volume.
“Sorry, by the way.” Wooyoung said, awkward. Changbin looked at the stranger, who was still glancing between them in shock.
“It’s…it’s alright.” The man said, adjusting the strap of a duffle bag on his shoulder. Wooyoung recognized the brand pretty immediately, and a smile crept onto his face.
“Hey! I have the same duffle.” Wooyoung said excitedly, and the stranger looked down at the bag as if he’d forgotten he had it. “You’re a dancer?”
“Ah, yes. I’m minoring in it.” The stranger said with a reserved smile. “I’m on my way home from a practice right now.”
“Do you know Kang Yeosang?” Wooyoung asked, and watched the stranger’s eyes widen slightly.
“I was just practicing with him.” The stranger said, gesturing vaguely down the hall. He tilted his head slightly. “Are you Wooyoung?”
“Yep! And this is my hyung, Seo Changbin.” Wooyoung said, looking over the stranger’s shoulder like Yeosang might appear. “Is he still here?”
“He was waiting for you. It’s studio fourteen, down there.” The stranger pointed, and Wooyoung grinned, taking hold of Changbin’s wrist so he could start running again.
“Thanks! Oh, what’s your name?” Wooyoung said quickly.
The stranger’s smile got a little bigger. “Park Seonghwa.”
“Nice meeting you!” Wooyoung chirped before breaking back into a just slightly less extreme sprint than before, pulling Changbin along behind him. He heard Seonghwa call out in response and smiled to himself. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. Wooyoung would take any and all dance friends he could get.
—
Wooyoung pushed open the door to the little coffee shop near Yeosang and Jongho’s apartment, delighting in the tinny chime of the bell above the door. A real one, yet to be updated with any of the more advanced things some shops used now. Wooyoung thought it was whimsical. It was no doubt part of why Yeosang liked the place so much. The vibe had him written all over it: comfy and quiet and slightly otherworldly.
Wooyoung claimed a tiny table in the corner by slinging his tote bag over the back of one of the chairs and then stepped up to the counter, ordering for himself and Yeosang so that the drinks would ideally be ready when he arrived in five minutes. He was almost exactly right, the bell above the door chiming only a few seconds after Wooyoung returned to his claimed table with their drinks. Yeosang spotted him immediately, coming over to the table and shrugging off his coat. Wooyoung frowned when he caught sight of a purpling bruise around Yeosang’s wrist where the sleeve of his knit sweater rode up slightly. Yeosang seemed to catch what he was looking at and sighed, falling back into his seat more heavily as he took his mug in both hands to warm himself.
“Give me a second.” Yeosang said simply, hiding his face behind the rim of his mug. Wooyoung decided to keep quiet for a few seconds instead of pushing for an explanation. He had a guess, but he couldn’t say for sure. It only took a couple moments of silence for Yeosang to clear his throat. He’d probably expected this. “A client attacked me in a group session. He didn’t do much besides grab my wrist and try to push me around before someone intervened, but it was still scary.”
“Sounds scary.” Wooyoung said, holding out a hand which Yeosang took after a moment and let him squeeze reassuringly before drawing back again. “Want a distraction?”
“Yes.” Yeosang asked, smiling slightly. “How was work last night?”
“Ooh, really good actually! Well, mostly.” Wooyoung acquiesced, but he decided to side-step the creep for now in his recollection of the night and instead tell Yeosang all about the things that were actually fun. The tourist girls and how well-spoken they were for foreigners, a businessman who complimented Wooyoung’s makeup and actually seemed genuine about it for once, the big party of people celebrating a birthday who had Mingi, Yuna, and him running around getting drinks and shots for the whole latter half of his shift. Yeosang let him ramble on and on with only a couple quiet interjections. From the outside, it might have looked like a horribly unbalanced conversation, but Wooyoung and Yeosang had been friends for so long that he knew that right now Yeosang was perhaps the most content he could be. Well, with Wooyoung. Jongho probably had some magical boyfriend secrets to getting Yeosang even more calm, but that was his own deal. There was a reason Yeosang asked for Wooyoung’s company when he did.
“Oh! And the dishwasher girl totally has a crush on Seonghwa-hyung, but you didn’t hear that from me.” Wooyoung said with a conspiratorial wink and Yeosang smiled. “Minhee-noona and I have been talking about it. Apparently she keeps gushing about hyung’s sense of style and how nice he is whenever he gets brought up. Minhee-noona says she’s trying to find a way to tell the poor girl that hyung is gay and has a boyfriend, but she just seems impervious to taking a hint.”
“As long as she’s not pushy about it.” Yeosang interjected, having finished his tea and now nibbling at a muffin he’d gotten up to order about fifteen minutes ago, and that he had somehow only finished half of. “Remember that one intern who had a puppy crush on me?”
“Ugh, I hated that guy!” Wooyoung groaned, remembering a few years ago when all of their little catch-up sessions were plagued by talk of a guy at Yeosang’s social work agency who just would not stop trying to flirt with him, and seemed allergic to backing off. He’d not been hired on when his very brief internship ended, in part because of Yeosang’s complaints to his supervisors, so Wooyoung hadn’t heard about him since. The reminder alone made annoyance prick at his subconscious. “Well, not as much as Jongho-ah hated him, I’m sure.”
Yeosang laughed lightly. “Jongho’s not the jealous type.”
“Sure, but it can’t be fun to know your boyfriend’s getting harassed like that and not be able to do anything.” Wooyoung said, thinking back on the conversation he’d half-overheard between Mingi and Yunho the night before. He shook his head and tried to change the subject to something less heavy. “How are you and Jongho-ah?”
“We’re good.” Yeosang said, picking at the muffin. “He’s at work a lot but so am I.”
Wooyoung frowned. “Do you wish he wasn’t?”
“He’s just been picking up a lot of extra jobs lately.” Yeosang shrugged. He tapped the screen of his phone where it rested on the table absentmindedly and let it go dark again, not looking up at Wooyoung as he talked. “Something about saving up for a new apartment. There’s another problem with the shower and he doesn’t think he can fix it.”
Wooyoung grimaced in sympathy. Yeosang and Jongho’s apartment was nice, but only as nice as an apartment that cheap could really get. They’d done a lot to fix up the place but Wooyoung supposed there were really only so many ways to fix something when you were missing parts. “Hey, maybe you could move into my building! I think they have a couple listings open right now. I know our next door neighbour just moved out a couple weeks back. It’d be like university again!”
“I’ll look into it.” Yeosang nodded noncommittally, giving Wooyoung a close-lipped smile and picking at his muffin some more. Wooyoung tried not to take it personally. “So, what happened at work?”
Wooyoung blinked at him in confusion. “Oh, god, Sangie please don’t tell me your memory is that bad.”
“No, I mean—” Yeosang sighed, nose scrunching up as he tried to find a way to word himself properly. “I mean you were clearly keeping something that happened from me. And I appreciate it, but I can listen now if you want to talk about it.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.” Wooyoung said, feeling just a tinge embarrassed. “Just another creepy man story.”
“My favorite kind.” Yeosang teased.
“It’s a good one, actually. Basically this guy was like staring me down and when I went over to get his drink order he gave me a job offer instead.” Wooyoung said, smiling when Yeosang’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Wooyoung leaned forward for emphasis. “To be his paid boyfriend.”
“You’re kidding.” Yeosang said, scandalized. He laughed. “He really said he’d pay you to date him?”
“Right? I know I’m hot stuff but I didn’t think anyone would offer to pay me to be their arm candy.” Wooyoung giggled. “I’d almost find it flattering if it weren’t fucking insane.”
“Definitely.” Yeosang smiled. “Reminds me of that one girl in our calculus.”
“Stop! I forgot about her!” Wooyoung gasped, laughing at the memory of his first year of university when a girl he’d spoken to all of one time approached him and Yeosang and asked if either of them would be willing to take twenty bucks to pretend to be her boyfriend at some Valentine’s party her friend was hosting. Wooyoung had accepted for the fun of it, and Yeosang had spent the rest of the week side-eyeing him. Wooyoung had completely thought it was worth it. Twenty bucks and free drinks? In university, Wooyoung would’ve done a lot more for a lot less. Luckily he was a changed man now. “I’m not gonna take this one.”
“I hope not.” Yeosang said. “I don’t think I could defend you for that.”
“Imagine how pissed Seonghwa-hyung would be.” Wooyoung cackled, remembering how Seonghwa had lectured him for that Valentine’s stunt, telling him how unsafe it was to accept that kind of thing. Wooyoung thought he was being a bit overprotective about it at the time, and he still did, but he guessed it was nice foreshadowing for where their lives would lead them eventually. Now, part of Seonghwa’s job was lecturing his employees on safety and not taking even the most innocent of offers. Wooyoung respected his word a lot more now. “I think he might actually kick me to the curb.”
“But with all the sugar baby money you could probably get a new place pretty quick.” Yeosang said.
“See! You get me, Sangie.” Wooyoung said, raising an empty mug to Yeosang who raised his half-eaten muffin in return. Wooyoung glanced at the little clock on the wall above Yeosang’s head in doing so, and startled when he realized they’d been there for nearly two hours. People aren’t kidding when they say time flies. “I should probably get going. Hongjoong-hyung wants me to listen to this new track he’s working on before I go to work and I need time to draft my criticism so he doesn’t nag me about just saying ‘it’s good.’”
Yeosang nodded in understanding. “Even if it is just good.”
“Exactly.” Wooyoung said, standing from his seat and picking up his and Yeosang’s empty mugs to bring to the little bussing station set up in the corner of the cafe. Yeosang followed after him, grabbing a little plastic to-go box from the station to put his half-muffin in. “Thanks for inviting me out, Sangie.”
“Of course. Thank you for always showing up.” Yeosang smiled, shrugging back on his jacket and collecting the box in his hands. “I really needed this.”
Wooyoung cooed happily, giving Yeosang a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “See you soon!”
“See you.” Yeosang said, wiping half-heartedly at his cheek in mild disgust. Wooyoung just gave him another winning smile before he was hurrying for the door and subsequently for his car. He wasn’t joking about drafting his criticism ahead of time. For such a talented producer, who took such pride in people enjoying his music, Hongjoong really was bad at taking praise if it didn’t have at least two pieces of “useful criticism” alongside it. Wooyoung had just started coming in with points ahead of time and adjusting them if he needed to, knowing Hongjoong would take any tiny critique he said like gospel even if it was generic.
When he got home the first thing he did when he saw Hongjoong sitting around in the living room, nose buried in a notepad, was clap his hands together. Hongjoong looked up at him, only a little startled by Wooyoung’s abruptness. “Alright hyung, let’s hear this demo!”
Hongjoong smiled, jumping up and going to fetch his laptop as Wooyoung made himself comfortable on the couch.
—
As soon as Hongjoong was satisfied with Wooyoung’s input on the song, he made himself scarce, holing himself up in his and Seonghwa’s bedroom to start tweaking away at it. Wooyoung took it as his cue to start getting ready for his own job, even though he was still a good couple hours out from actually having to be at the bar, not being scheduled to open today. He just liked to be prepared. Besides, it meant that he could do whatever he wanted knowing he was already fully ready and could simply jump up and go straight to work without panicking about having everything.
He changed pretty quickly, doing up the buttons on his black button-up and slacks. He put up his hair in a little ponytail, knowing he’d probably be starting the night helping Seonghwa with a couple things behind the bar before he needed to go on the floor.
When Wooyoung went to put on his apron, he paused as he realized something was still in the pocket. He fished it out, assuming it would just be an order card or napkin he didn’t throw out, and was surprised to find the envelope from last night. He must’ve been so caught up he forgot to throw it out.
He immediately scowled at it and its little “Choi Enterprises” logo in the corner, but paused as he went to throw it in the bin.
Would it really hurt to just see what it was? Maybe he’d get a good story out of it, a follow up for Yeosang and some gossip for Minhee. Or evidence for Seonghwa getting the guy banned, a tiny part of his brain chirped and he figured that was also likely. Either way, it was surely better to open it up.
Inside was a letter printed on paper that felt weirdly nice quality, detailing the bare-bones terms of agreement to a contract which, as the guy said, included Wooyoung pretending to be his boyfriend publicly for one year. He was a little relieved when the letter went on to stipulate that there were to be no public or private displays of affection or intimacy required, but was immediately weirded out again when the proposed contract asked that Wooyoung live at this man’s house and not be seen having relations with people other than him in public. It was bizarre, and Wooyoung found himself rolling his eyes multiple times as he read down the list of stipulations and agreements. His eyes caught, though, when he got to the bottom of the contract and saw the giant number next to the salary.
Now, Wooyoung was not a man that could be bought, but if he was…well. That would probably be enough.
Wooyoung hated the fact that that thought even occurred to him. It shouldn’t matter how much money it was, he wasn’t going to agree to something like this. He wouldn’t. It was so deeply irrational and unsafe. Everything about the offer screamed “bad idea,” even if the letter and rough-draft contract did look shockingly legitimate. That didn’t mean anything. People faked this kind of thing all the time, right? Forged documents and all that? Who knew if “Choi San” was even a real name? Wooyoung should just throw the envelope away and be done with it, maybe even take it out to the dumpster on its own so there was no chance of him coming back to it.
The front page of search results for “Choi Enterprises” popped up on Wooyoung’s phone before he knew what he was doing. The letter balanced on his knee, trying not to bounce it as he looked up whatever information was available about the company and its CEO.
As it turned out Choi Enterprises was a pretty well-known and respected tech conglomerate, owning a lot of different smaller companies and boasting numbers so big they kind of made Wooyoung’s brain hurt. Choi San was, in fact, the current CEO, and the youngest in company history, having taken over suddenly two years ago when his father retired. Opinions on him seemed suitably mixed. There were a number of people touting his business sensibilities, and others who seemed to think he was too “untouchable” to really trust as a CEO. Wooyoung found one specific forum post from former employees, one of whom said that he never even saw the man in his time at the company. Another said that they liked him well enough as a supervisor before he took over as CEO, but once he did he basically lost everything that had made interacting with him palatible. There also seemed to be an ongoing debate over his “charisma.”
AnonymousOwl: Choi San is a fine boss I guess but why anyone would call him “charismatic” is beyond me
CanKicker: @AnonymousOwl I’ve never worked with Choi Enterprises, but I think I can answer you anon. People like him because he’s hot. Hope this helps.
Bandit367: @CanKicker hes a glorified nepo-baby with a permanent smolder
Pandlecandle: @Bandit367 true but he looks great in a suit so I kinda get it, I mean I’d def smash if given the chance
Wooyoung found himself unable to take a lot of it seriously. The man he’d met in the club was attractive, sure, but he was far from charismatic and even farther from someone Wooyoung would entertain as a good businessman. What kind of respected CEO scoured bars for paid boyfriends?
Still, Wooyoung was bothered by how much the contact information at the bottom of the letter seemed to call to him. He didn’t want to give into this, but he couldn’t deny that the gig of basically just standing near an attractive man in exchange for a salary and free rent was a pretty good offer. He clicked his phone off and rested it in his lap, letter still sitting on the knee of his work pants. His apron.
This room had been his for years now, but he still couldn’t help but look at the relatively blank walls and the sheets he hadn’t bought and be reminded that it was supposed to be a guest room. When they were still scouting apartments, Seonghwa had even told Wooyoung that he and Hongjoong were looking for a two bedroom specifically so that they could make one of them into a home office. That in the one bedroom apartment they had for about a year in university they got into a couple arguments over one of them having to work late and keeping the other up with the glow of their computer in the corner. Since Wooyoung had moved in, neither of them had mentioned the original plans for the room, but Wooyoung had seen Hongjoong passed out at the kitchen counter instead of his own desk and Seonghwa doing important paperwork at the coffee table enough times to know the problem hadn’t gone away. And while they’d never say it, Wooyoung was the reason.
If Wooyoung moved out, they could finally make themselves the home office they wanted. They wouldn’t have to feel guilty for acting like a couple just so he wouldn’t feel like a third-wheel. They could actually start living the domestic life they’d been so excited for post-university. That Seonghwa had spent so long gushing about, so starry-eyed and full of hope for the future laid out before him. Wooyoung was a thumbtack in the middle of their road. A stain on Seonghwa’s neat life.
Besides that, it could be nice to be someone else for once. To not still be attached to them as he just got older and older. He didn’t live with his parents any more, but he was basically living with the next closest thing. He loved his hyungs, of course he did, but did he really want to stay like this forever? To live in their apartment and work at Seonghwa’s bar until he was greying? Wooyoung loved his job, but it was never meant to be permanent. Wooyoung had never expected it to be, but it wasn’t like he was doing anything to branch out.
Wooyoung bit his tongue, pain sparking dully between his teeth. With that much money, he might be able to go back to school. He might be able to finally get a dance degree and pursue the dream that had been ripped out from under him. With that much money, he’d be able to live without worrying for once. And it would be his salary. His money. Sure, it wouldn’t be earned traditionally, but what did Wooyoung care for being traditional anyway?
Wooyoung had spent the past six years of his life watching his best friends in the whole world destroy themselves to stay afloat in it. He’d watched as Seonghwa battled patrons and business partners alike who treated him like an object, as Hongjoong was forced to torture himself through work and scramble around trying to find a company that would recognize his talents for more than single song deal, as Mingi and Yunho fought over finances and kept struggling to find their footing as educators, as Yeosang came home with emotional scars and physical bruises from his clients, as Jongho disappeared further and further into himself to keep up a strong persona no one really bought. Wooyoung had spent his whole life watching the world break people. People he loved. People who, in a world of louder violence, he would’ve killed for by now. Wooyoung had spent a long time watching the system ruin things, and financial issues carve gashes in his closest relationships. He was tired of feeling trapped. Of feeling like no matter what he did, he would never really be in control of his own life. He wanted better. And now here “better” was. Within reach.
Was it really so wrong to want to take the easy way out?
Wooyoung turned his phone back on and punched in the number at the bottom of the letter.
“Choi San’s office.” The sweet voice of a receptionist crackled through the speaker. Wooyoung took a steadying breath and put on a smile.
“Hi, this is Jung Wooyoung.” He said, as peppy as he could manage. “I’m calling about a job offer.”