Archive of Our Own

The party was in full-swing, and Seonghwa should have just stayed home.

It’d been an unforgiving day. As a freshman in college, he was stuck not only in the on-campus dorms, but rooming with a complete stranger. Of course, he’d been ‘blessed’ with a roommate who was noisy and inconsiderate, staying up past midnight playing video games or, worse, inviting more noisy, inconsiderate strangers over. Even though he’d invested in some quality ear plugs, he’d hardly gotten any sleep the night before. Maybe it was an error in judgment on his part to not check the weather before he’d left for classes, but the clouds had looked harmless. That was, until he got caught in the rain on the way to class. To add to his irritation, his professor gave the class a pop quiz. Seonghwa was always diligent with his studies, so he knew he passed it, but taking it on a few hours of sleep with a damp shirt and hair would make anyone grumpy. To add salt to the wound, the local bakery had been out of his favorite strawberry tart by the time he’d set foot inside, one he was really looking forward to, and the disappointment he felt merely birthed a headache that seeped deeply into the sides of his temples.

He did not want to see his stupid roommate’s face, so he’d killed some time at the campus library, waiting for the medicine to kick in and lessen his headache, before he wandered over to Wooyoung’s dorm instead. However, Wooyoung was absolutely not in the mood for a quiet, calm evening. He’d answered the door with tight leather pants on and a face halfway done with makeup, babbling about a campus party.

Seonghwa should have left then.

He should have left before Wooyoung mentioned the name Christian Yu, with a deceptively sweet smirk on his face. Seonghwa was baited.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Christian Yu had been a volunteer during freshman orientation. In-between Christian introducing himself and handing out pamphlets, Seonghwa had lost his mind somewhere in the frantic beating of his heart. Christian was gorgeous, with dark features and tattooed arms and a really hot voice, and Seonghwa only became more infatuated seeing the other man smile so naturally, so charismatically, as he led his group on a campus tour and answered curious questions with ease.

Maybe Seonghwa could turn this shitty day around by finally doing something about his four-month crush. He’d tried a couple times before, but he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed what a catch Christian was. He was hardly ever alone, and Seonghwa had never been the most forward person.

He was absolutely determined to get Christian alone by the time the night was through.

Wooyoung, of course, was ecstatic with this plan, and promptly dragged Seonghwa into his dorm in a flurry of clothing and make-up and accessories. He gave Seonghwa advice as they got ready, offering a flurry of suggestions that were much too bold and left Seonghwa’s cheeks heated.

Wooyoung had always been that way. Fearless and brazen.

Seonghwa was going to try his best to channel him tonight. The reward was too great not to, especially after that day he’d had.

It was only the second college party he’d attended since he arrived, the first one being a welcoming one at the very beginning of the year. He knew Wooyoung had been to more. He’d been privy to all the gossip Wooyoung had to give about each one. When Wooyoung whined about Seonghwa not getting out more, he’d reminded Wooyoung that he was currently sitting with straight A’s while Wooyoung was clinging on to D’s.

Wooyoung just stuck his tongue out at him.

This party was much like the first one he’d attended. Music was pounding through a large, two-story house on the outskirts of the campus. Tables were lined with solo cups and large bowls of mystery mixes that could probably knock you on your ass within an hour. Furniture was pushed to the walls to make room for dancing and beer-pong tables. Crowds of people were giving off enough body heat to make everything feel stuffy.

Wooyoung was lost in that crowd of people in no time. Seonghwa really didn’t expect anything else. Besides, Seonghwa had a mission, whether Wooyoung was at his side or not.

He filled a solo cup with some fruity-looking juice only halfway, taking tentative sips. It was tangy and deceptively sweet. Seonghwa knew how to pace himself with caution.

He roamed around, bobbing his head to the music and hoping it didn’t look like he was actively looking for someone. Even though he was. And his eyes landed on that someone during his second round through the living room.

It looked like Christian had just got there. He was flanked by several other men, greeting him cheerfully and dragging him over to the refreshment table. Seonghwa, as gracefully as he could, zigzagged through the bodies of people until he found purchase against a wall, and he watched.

He waited.

It actually started to feel a little creepy after the ten-minute mark, but like always, Christian was never alone. He’d even ventured into the kitchen, at one point, and came back out, with two new people on his heels. Seonghwa sighed into his solo cup. Wooyoung wouldn’t care if he wasn’t alone. Wooyoung would just waltz right over there like he owned the place and make everyone laugh before tugging his target away to make sure they were alone.

Seonghwa kind of wished he hadn’t let Wooyoung out of his sights. Maybe Wooyoung could have done just that to help him. But the fact that he needed help just to gain enough courage to ask someone on a date made Seonghwa’s stomach curl in on himself.

He was pathetic.

Maybe it was just the shitty day he’d had, but he was mentally beating himself up the longer he waited around. He was regretting even coming to this party. That sentiment increased two-fold when someone sideswiped him on their way past, a splash of their drink hitting his shoe.

It wasn’t a big spill.

It was still enough to kick-start the beginnings of another headache.

He almost gave up. He was seconds away from doing so, the drink in his hand now completely empty and the burn in his chest ignited by more than just the alcohol, but then…

Then Christian was suddenly sitting on the couch, alone. Not completely alone, there were other people on the couch too, but those other people weren’t actively talking to Christian. Christian was just sitting there, a drink in one hand and his phone in the other, looking terribly handsome in the way he always did, even with strands of hair obscuring his eyes as he looked downward.

The solo cup in Seonghwa’s hand gently crumpled under the weight of Seonghwa tightening his fist, and then he was moving forward with his heart jumping up into his throat.

Christian was alone and Seonghwa could do this.

He would do this.

He just had to weave his way around the throng of bodies and get across the room-

“Whoa, hey.”

The voice was loud and close, and the person it belonged to stopped Seonghwa short because he’d deliberately halted right in front of him. Blinking his eyes, he turned his gaze away from Christian to make sense of what was in front of him.

A guy was standing there, a little shorter than him, wearing a grin and way too many earrings. That grin was directed right at Seonghwa, and it become increasingly obvious that, yes, he’d purposefully inserted himself in Seonghwa’s path and was addressing him. The stranger’s eyes traveled from Seonghwa’s face to the empty cup in his hand and back again.

“You need a refill? What’s your favorite drink?” The man asked. In Seonghwa’s bemused state, he registered the tone as flirty. The thought solidified itself when the man continued. “Asking so I know what to get you on our first date.”

A pick-up line.

Some guy was actually trying to pick him up when he was on his way to do the same to Christian-

Christian!

Seonghwa swiftly leaned his head to the left so he could see around the man in front of him. His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw a girl now sitting on the arm of the couch next to Christian, laughing with him.

He’d lost his window of opportunity.

The day was truly going to go down in history as one of the worst days he’d ever had, because of his stupid roommate and the stupid weather and his stupid teacher and the stupid bakery and his stupid, pathetic self, and this stupid guy in front of him who’d ruined his chances at securing anything good out of today-

Seonghwa’s eyes were ablaze when he looked back at the guy in front of him.

“Fuck off,” Seonghwa spoke, from the chest, from the heart, and completely acidic. He watched with a certain sense of aggravated satisfaction as the guy’s grin wobbled and turned upside down, as he visibly flinched backward before his hands came up in a surrendering gesture.

“Message received,” the guy said with a strained, mechanical laugh. His gaze flitted away, toward the floor, and his expression morphed into something chagrined as he muttered, “Sorry.”

In the next moment, the guy was gone, disappearing through the crowd.

Seonghwa just stood there for a moment before taking a deep breath and retreating back to his spot against the wall, if only to not be awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. As soon as his back hit the solid surface, he ran a furious hand through his hair.

The guy’s fading grin replayed in his mind, and he instantly felt guilty, which only made him more frustrated with himself, especially when he glanced up to see that girl still speaking with Christian. With a sigh, he peeled himself off the wall and walked through the house, heading for the backyard. He deposited his empty cup in a trash can before walking through a sliding glass door and into the chilly night. The smell of chlorine hit him even before he saw the pool. There was no solstice in the yelling and splashing, so he walked past all the commotion, choosing to sit against the trunk of a tree at the outskirts of the backyard. He could still hear others, but at least it was in the distance, and at least he was alone.

He tried to think of nothing as his head dully pounded. The chill in the air was actually nice, and the ground wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought.

He wasn’t sure just how long he was out there. The gentle lull of sleep was starting to pull him in when he realized he was no longer alone.

“What are you doing out here?” Wooyoung asked, leaning on the tree and looking down at Seonghwa. Seonghwa tilted his head upwards to meet his gaze.

“How’d you even know I was here?” Seonghwa asked.

“Word starts to travel when there’s some ‘guy who’s probably drunk off his ass is passed out by the tree out back’,” Wooyoung laughed, going down on his haunches. “I take it you didn’t get to talk to Christian?”

“I could have been turned down, you know.”

“Nah. You’re hot and I did your makeup. He wouldn’t do that,” Wooyoung said with a grin that Seonghwa returned, before he turned his head and sighed.

“Today sucks,” Seonghwa said bluntly.

“Sitting out here alone and in the cold? No wonder it sucks,” Wooyoung stated, springing back up to a standing position and holding out his hand. “Come on. I actually met some really cool people and I told them I’d introduce them to my best friend!”

Seonghwa’s forehead gave another throb in protest.

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa nearly whined. “I really think I’m done with today.”

“Pleeeease, Hwa!” Wooyoung pleaded, leaning down to tug at the sleeve of Seonghwa’s shirt. “They are chill people, I promise! And we’ve stolen a room with a billiards table and darts for ourselves!”

“Does there happen to be a hot guy among this group of people?” Seonghwa asked suspiciously.

“I mean, I’m not going to say they’re ugly, but that’s not what this is about! I promise!” Wooyoung exclaimed, dropping to his haunches again and clapping his hands together as if in prayer. “I think one guy even said he shares one of our classes. These are people I truly want to hang out with after tonight, and if that’s the case, they have to know you!”

There was a warmth that spilled across Seonghwa’s chest at the admission. No matter how different they were at times, he and Wooyoung had been inseparable since middle school, and Wooyoung clearly was going to hold true to that even now.

“… because you’re my best friend,” Seonghwa gave in. Wooyoung flashed him a winning smile, hissed an excited “Yeeees!”, and helped Seonghwa up off the ground. Seonghwa waded through his headache, his frustration, and his guilt of the day as he followed Wooyoung back inside, trying to find enough strength to stay positive.

At least there was no sign of Christian as they walked through the living room and up the stairs.

He heard them before he saw them. He was highly doubting Wooyoung’s claim of them being ‘chill’, and that point was further proven when Wooyoung jumped back and nearly collided with him as soon as he crossed the threshold.

“Holy- Mingi! That’s the second time!” Wooyoung yelled. There was a tall blond man standing by the doorway, wielding a pool stick with wide eyes turned their way. Said pool stick had nearly whacked Wooyoung across the face when Wooyoung had entered.

“Stop suddenly showing up out of nowhere!” Mingi countered, and Seonghwa heard laughter from people he couldn’t yet see.

“Murdering someone accidentally during his first college party sounds very on-brand for Mingi,” said the only other person that was in Seonghwa’s line of vision, standing on the opposite side of the pool table with his own pool stick in hand. He was broad in the shoulders and had a gummy smile that turned his eyes into crescents.

“Yah, I’m not going to murder anyone!” Mingi protested.

“Well that’s good to know, considering I’ve brought my best friend,” Wooyoung said, hooking his arm around Seonghwa’s own and pulling him into the room. Mingi took a large side-step to give them space. “This is Seonghwa!”

While there were certainly less people in the room than there were downstairs, Seonghwa wasn’t quite expecting six different people to look his way. Seonghwa scuttled a little closer to Wooyoung at the barrage of attention suddenly on him, but curiosity drove his gaze around the room. He offered a polite smile at the symphony of greetings that followed. Everyone seemed nice enough, and if Wooyoung had vetted them, he could only trust his judgment.

His eyes landed on the one sitting on a stool in the corner of the room last, and when they did, a chilling horror cascaded down his spine.

Oh.

Oh no.

It was him. The guy who’d intercepted his beeline for Christian. The guy who had tried to make a pass at him. The guy who Seonghwa had, very impolitely, told to fuck off. And from the look on his face, he was coming to the same realization.

“Do you want to play next?” Seonghwa ripped his gaze away from the guy in the corner, trying to neutralize his expression. Another tall man with a friendly face had walked around the table and was now addressing Seonghwa.  “Mingi is going to lose soon.”

“I could make a come-back!” Mingi protested.

“No one beats Jongho,” a blond piped in, making Mingi pout.

“Um… I’m not sure,” Seonghwa said awkwardly. He wondered if that guy was still watching him. Would he speak up about the situation? Would he be mad at Seonghwa? The urge to flee was intense, but Wooyoung still had his arm.

“Would you rather play darts? Hongjoong is really good at them,” the man continued, gesturing toward… the guy in the corner. Who looked just about as awkward as Seonghwa felt in the moment.

“Billiards is fine,” Seonghwa spoke quickly. He did not want to be anywhere close to that guy- Hongjoong, at the moment.

“Great. You can play Yeosang,” the man continued, nodding his head toward the blond who’d said no one could beat Jongho. “I’m Yunho, by the way.”

Their prediction was right. Mingi lost within the next two rounds, and he was good-naturedly ribbed by everyone in the room. Seonghwa kept mostly quiet as he played, only offering compliments to Yeosang for good plays and answering questions and comments directed at him. He kept side-eyeing Wooyoung, who seemed to gravitate toward another member of the group named San.

If anyone noticed that Hongjoong and Seonghwa hadn’t spoken a word to each other, they didn’t say anything.

Periodically, Seonghwa’s gaze would find him, just to see if he was still in the room. He always was, either talking to someone or playing darts. Seonghwa had his own game to focus on, but in the times he watched Hongjoong throw a dart, it almost always landed in the center.

He lost his game of billiards, but only by two balls. Yunho challenged San, then, and Seonghwa quietly slipped into the seat San had vacated to be next to Wooyoung. Yeosang followed, and then Jongho and Hongjoong surprised everyone by bringing them drinks.

Seonghwa was happy Jongho was the one who handed him his.

“Do you want me to round him up for you?” Wooyoung asked.

“What?” Seonghwa answered, dragging his gaze back to Wooyoung after the umpteenth glance at Hongjoong.

“Christian,” Wooyoung clarified. He leaned over the table to get closer. “I don’t know him well, but I bet I could convince him to come up here if you want me to.”

Seonghwa didn’t doubt that.

“No,” Seonghwa said, shaking his head. “I’m done with today.”

Wooyoung’s answering frown was concerned.

“We can go home, if you want. You can spend the night with me,” Wooyoung offered. Seonghwa knew the offer was genuine and another prick of affection for Wooyoung stirred in his chest. He really did have the greatest best friend he could have. If anything saved the terrible day he’d had, it was that nugget of knowledge.

“I’m fine here. These guys seem pretty cool,” Seonghwa said, nodding toward the room. A pleased little smile snaked across Wooyoung’s lips.

“Aren’t they?!” Wooyoung agreed, practically puffing out his chest, proud of his assessment. In the next moment, San managed a really difficult shot and praise exploded throughout the room, taking Wooyoung’s attention. Seonghwa observed for a moment, before, again, his gaze found its way to Hongjoong.

He startled when Hongjoong was already looking at him, but as if flustered at being caught, Hongjoong immediately looked away. He said something to Yunho, something about a bathroom if Seonghwa could read lips well enough, and walked around the chaos in the room and out into the hallway.

That heavy feeling of guilt settled more deeply within him. He took another sip of his drink before tapping Wooyoung’s arm.

“I’m running to the restroom,” Seonghwa informed. Wooyoung gave him an affirmative, taking hold of his drink and bringing it close to his person, a nonverbal gesture telling him he’d keep it safe. Seonghwa slipped out of his seat and walked out into the hallway.

The loud music from downstairs was more prevalent outside of the room. A glance over the banister proved the party hadn’t thinned at all; if anything, it looked more crowded than it had when he was down in the living room. Seonghwa’s steps were tiny and hesitant as he very slowly made his way across the carpet. There were four doors beyond the room they’d been in, and Seonghwa wasn’t even sure which one was the bathroom, or if there were multiple. He hovered in the hallway, grateful that no one else was coming up the stairs to see him awkwardly shuffling about. A telltale sound of a toilet flushing was muffled behind one of the doors, followed by running water, and Seonghwa tried to relax his stiffened posture.

Inevitably, one of the doors opened and Hongjoong stepped out, clicking the light off behind him. His gait faltered when he registered Seonghwa standing there and Seonghwa wrung his hands together nervously.

“Hi,” Seonghwa spoke, wincing at how awkward it sounded. Still, he pressed on. “Look, I’m really sorry about earlier. You caught me at a bad time, but still, I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I promise I’m not an asshole.”

He bit the inside of his lip when he was done, staring imploringly at Hongjoong’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised a fraction as he stared right back.

Then, his shoulders sagged, and all tension from his body released in a dramatic gesture.

“Thank God,” Hongjoong muttered. He raised a hand behind his head timidly. “When Wooyoung introduced you, I thought, why you, of all people, because everyone took a liking to Wooyoung really quickly, and I thought I had fucked everything up by hitting on you out of nowhere.”

Seonghwa’s chest felt lighter.

“If anything, I would be at fault for fucking everything up because I was a jerk,” Seonghwa replied. A small smile curled at the corners of Hongjoong’s mouth, and after cruelly turning that smile upside down earlier, Seonghwa was happy to see it return.

“Alright,” Hongjoong said. The hand behind his head presented itself between them instead. “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Hongjoong. I heard you’re Wooyoung’s best friend.”

Seonghwa felt himself smiling back.

“I’m Seonghwa, and yes, I’ve been Wooyoung’s best friend since middle school,” Seonghwa responded, grasping Hongjoong’s hand in a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“That’s a long time. Got any embarrassing stories?” Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa was immediately pulled in by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, so many,” Seonghwa grinned as they made their way back to the group.

In the midst of the rest of the night, Seonghwa forgot about what an awful day he’d had, distracted by games and good company. He held true to his word, exposing many embarrassing stories about Wooyoung when his best friend was just out of ear’s reach, grinning widely at Hongjoong’s unabashed laughter. Wooyoung sent many suspicious looks their way, but the looks were always accompanied by a pleased little smile, happy to see Seonghwa’s change in mood.

“I almost regret introducing you to everyone,” Wooyoung said, as they were walking home early in the morning, sleepy and tipsy.

“What?” Seonghwa asked, growing concerned. Wooyoung just pouted at him.

“You were spending so much time with Hongjoong for a while there,” Wooyoung said, squinting his eyes. “You can’t replace me as your best friend, okay?”

All concerns flew out of the window, and Seonghwa unceremoniously slapped his palm on top of Wooyoung’s head before harshly ruffling his hair. Wooyoung shrieked at the treatment, jumping away from the onslaught.

“As if,” Seonghwa huffed, smiling as Wooyoung fussed over his hair. The thought was laughable, at best. The reason he’d gotten along with Hongjoong so well, after the initial tension, was because of their shared little secret. No one was privy to the fact Hongjoong had hit on him, or that Seonghwa had been so mean. No one was privy to the fact Seonghwa had apologized in the hallway and they had a do-over introduction. Their closeness was born from a need to make amends and assure each other that there was no bad blood, that nothing was going to get in the way of their friend groups merging together like a lost piece finally completing the puzzle.

“I’m really glad things worked out the way they did,” Hongjoong confessed to Seonghwa a week later, when they had just enough time to catch up with each other in between classes on a Wednesday afternoon. It was kind of crazy, the fact that, since the party, Seonghwa had seen at least one or more of the group that had gathered in that second-floor room every single day in some fashion. “It could have been really awkward for our friends if we tried dating and it didn’t work out between us.”

“You love your friends a lot, don’t you?” Seonghwa asked with a fond smile. He was delighted to see a blush on Hongjoong’s cheeks.

“Mm, well, yeah. And I’ve seen things like that happen before… seen friend groups kinda fall apart when someone tried dating.”

While Seonghwa had never witnessed it, having never been in a larger group of friends like that before, he understood the logic behind it. It was a fleeting thought, for a while. The eight of them grew closer and closer, hanging out with each other in free time, encouraging each other on academics, and texting both silly memes and longer thoughtful conversations. They slowly learned about each other’s favorites and habits and personality traits. The months went by in a blur, and even though Seonghwa still had to deal with his awful roommate, he finished his first year of college content with the knowledge that he’d found a family away from his family.

---

There was a single cherry blossom tree in front of the library that Seonghwa had always loved. It was especially beautiful, now, at full bloom. Unfortunately, it had many other admirers, and Seonghwa was left to look at the tree yearningly as graduate after graduate stepped beneath the tree, posing for pictures. The entire situation reminded Seonghwa of his crush on Christian Yu, which had been left untouched and unfulfilled even though it’d been harbored almost a year now.

A small sigh escaped Seonghwa’s lips.

“When do you want us to drop by and help pack up your car?” San asked. They were seated on the benches in front of the library, enjoying their last outing before they’d disperse for summer break.

“Oh, you don’t have to. Wooyoung and Hongjoong are already going to be there, and that’s plenty,” Seonghwa answered.

“Take the hint. We’re trying to find excuses to see each other as much as we can before we leave,” Yeosang drawled.

“You also realize they are the two weakest of the group?” Yunho snickered.

“Hey!” Both Wooyoung and Hongjoong protested. Seonghwa snorted a laugh.

“Fine. Around ten in the morning will be perfect for anyone who wants to help,” Seonghwa chuckled. Conversation continued after that, but Seonghwa was only half listening, turning his gaze back to the cherry blossom tree.

He startled when his hand was grabbed.

“Okay, you, up!” Wooyoung exclaimed. Seonghwa blinked in confusion, but instinctively stood on Wooyoung’s command. “I see you eyeing that tree. I know you want pictures. Let’s go!”

Seonghwa was embarrassed at how easily he could be read.

“But there’s a whole group of graduates waiting to take pictures,” Seonghwa protested. Still, he allowed Wooyoung to drag him down the steps.

“Do they own the cherry blossom tree?” Wooyoung asked. When they were close enough to the crowd of people in gowns and caps, Wooyoung cupped a hand around his mouth and yelled. “They’re doing a raffle for graduates in the education building! Top prize is a grand!”

Seonghwa’s mouth dropped at the blatant lie, but several people around them began whispering in excitement. Before he knew it, a large section of the crowd had cleared out, heading in the direction of the education department.

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa hissed, grabbing his arm and shaking it. “You just made that up, didn’t you!?”

“Oh totally. But now there are only three people ahead of us,” Wooyoung snickered, happily getting in line.

“And what happens when they come back?!”

“The education department is across campus. That’s why I chose it. We’ll get our pictures and be long gone before then,” Wooyoung grinned. Seonghwa placed a hand on his forehead in dismay.

“I can’t believe you.”

“You can’t believe I’m such a great friend, I know,” Wooyoung cooed.

“I can’t believe you’re so shameless.”

“Admire me. Give me more compliments,” Wooyoung said, basking in the attention. Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh.

When it was their turn, Seonghwa posed under the tree, following Wooyoung’s directions of “jut your hip out a little more” and “turn your head to the right”. He looked everyone’s way in the middle of the shoot, realizing that they’d kind of just left them without any explanation. Not that that was entirely strange; Wooyoung dragging someone away suddenly was just another typical day. It was a little far, but he could have sworn he caught Hongjoong’s gaze. The thought was solidified when he gave him a thumbs up, and Seonghwa chuckled.

They ended the shoot with a selfie, Wooyoung’s cheek shoved against Seonghwa’s and their fingers in peace signs. Making their way back to the group, Wooyoung’s eyes were glued to the phone, flicking through the photos he’d just taken.

“You’re really handsome. You know that, right?” Wooyoung asked with a grin. “The camera loves you. You really should send some pictures into a modeling agency.”

It’d been a fleeting interest in high school that Seonghwa had shared with Wooyoung. A complete stranger had walked up to him and complimented his looks, telling him he could be a model. It was very flattering, and sparked a curiosity that was short-lived once Seonghwa looked into it. Agencies wanted men six-foot and over, which Seonghwa was not.

“Stop it,” Seonghwa replied.

“What? It’s true! I bet the guys would agree!” Wooyoung exclaimed. A rush of embarrassment flew across Seonghwa’s cheeks, and he immediately shook his head.

“The guys aren’t going to know,” Seonghwa said pointedly. Wooyoung pouted at him, but, thankfully, tucked the topic away as they rejoined the others.

With daylight burning and many things to do to prepare for leaving campus for summer break, they bid farewell shortly after. Seonghwa was itching to leave, continuously throwing glances at the cherry blossom tree, wondering when the group of disgruntled, lied-to graduates would be returning.

“I’m running into the library to return a book,” Seonghwa said, fishing said book from his backpack.

“I’ll come with you,” Hongjoong said. When Seonghwa cast him a look, he grinned. “What? I can’t go into the library?”

“Have you ever been in this library?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yeah. For the little snack stand in the lobby,” Hongjoong answered. Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He was rather envious of Hongjoong, because even though his multiple piercings and punk-ish aesthetic screamed otherwise, the reason Seonghwa knew Hongjoong had hardly spent any time in the library was not because he didn’t take his academics seriously. It was the opposite. Hongjoong was smart, the kind of smart where all he needed was to hear the lecture once and he remembered it. Seonghwa had always been studious, but he’d also always needed to give a lot of time and effort to earn the grades he did. Hongjoong’s grades were on par with his with half, if that, of the struggle.

Seonghwa took advantage of that, though, stealing Hongjoong’s time to help him study, so Seonghwa couldn’t complain.

It was after Seonghwa had dropped his book off that Hongjoong revealed his true intentions for following him.

“Do you have a plan for housing next year?” Hongjoong asked. They walked through the library, heading for the backdoor, just in case angry graduates were making their way back to the vicinity.

“Anything but the dorms again. I couldn’t stand another roommate like I had this year,” Seonghwa sighed. He wondered if his roommate had even started packing yet, considering he tended to procrastinate until the last minute.

“So, my uncle owns a small house here in town,” Hongjoong started. Seonghwa paused his walk when Hongjoong rushed forward to open the door for him. Seonghwa had learned that Hongjoong had a knack for doing things like that. Being a gentleman. Opening doors, offering coats and rides, always letting others go first. “It’s like a ten minute walk from the campus and has two rooms. It’s where I’m going to live next year, and a roommate to split the rent would be nice. If you’re interested.”

Seonghwa’s mouth parted in surprise.

“Why me?” Seonghwa couldn’t help but ask. Sure, they’d become close friends quickly, but Hongjoong had known everyone else, sans Wooyoung, for a lot longer.

“Mingi and Yunho already have something solidified. Jongho’s family lives in town already; he just takes a bus,” Hongjoong listed. He took a step closer to Seonghwa as they walked, arms brushing, craning his neck as if sharing a secret. “I don’t think Wooyoung told you yet, because he was waiting to see if you wanted to room with him, but San and Yeosang found a three-person accommodation and invited Wooyoung if he wanted.”

Seonghwa was a little stunned to hear it, surprised that Wooyoung would keep that a secret from him. Then again, it was very on brand. Wooyoung would always give Seonghwa priority.

He quietly contemplated for a moment, taking Hongjoong in. With his personality, he’d be a considerate roommate, no doubt. Seonghwa wondered if he was messy. He wondered if he snored. He wondered how well he could cook and clean. He was pretty sure Hongjoong had mentioned problems with insomnia. Being friends with someone and living with someone were two very different beasts.

Yet, Seonghwa reasoned that anything was better than living in the small campus dorms with who-knows-who come the start of the next school year.

“I’ll talk with Wooyoung, but… thank you for the offer. I’ll definitely consider it,” Seonghwa answered honestly. Hongjoong looked pleased with that response and retreated, putting the distance back between them until they reached the corner that would send them in opposite ways with a wave and a promise to be at Seonghwa’s tomorrow morning to help load his car.

Seonghwa kind of missed the warmth of Hongjoong next to him.

---

Summer brought peace. Seonghwa took many naps and allowed himself to be a couch potato far more often than he probably should have. He indulged in movies and books and enjoyed a few outings with his parents. Wooyoung would swing by more days than not just to drag Seonghwa out somewhere. While slow-paced, it was never boring… not with their group chat pinging at every hour of the day. And even though every message, meme, song, or video clip shared brought warmth to Seonghwa’s chest, it somehow wasn’t enough.

He missed seeing them in person. He didn’t even realize just how attached he was to his little group until there were miles and time separating them.

On a call with Hongjoong one night, he decided to voice that.

“God, I miss you,” Seonghwa said fervently, staring up at his ceiling from where he lied on his bed. He vaguely registered a soft choking sound, but he continued. “All of you. I used to love being on my own, you know? Wooyoung would always force me to go be social. I guess he still does. But I’m so used to the chaos being around me all the time and now I miss it.”

The laughter on the other side of the line was highly amused.

“We’ve brought you to the dark side. There’s no escaping,” Hongjoong answered. Seonghwa smiled. He didn’t want to escape. Saying that would probably lean on too mushy, though, so he kept the thought to himself and turned over onto his stomach.

“Speaking of. I talked to Wooyoung earlier today, and you were right. Yeosang and San did ask him to room with them,” Seonghwa explained.

“Is he going to?”

“He would like to, but he was feeling all guilty about me. Even told me that we could share the room. After showing me a picture of the room, though, as much as I love Woo, I might end up strangling him after being in that close of quarters all the time,” Seonghwa chuckled.

“You wouldn’t hurt him,” Hongjoong spoke with finality.

“But I might want to,” Seonghwa replied. He absentmindedly ran the sheets beneath him through his fingers, a flutter of nerves in his lower guts. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous bringing up this topic. Hongjoong had offered. “So it made me think about what you told me. About your uncle’s house. I’d get my own room?”

“Yeah. The place is small and dated, but like I said, it’s only a ten minute walk from campus and you’d have your own room.”

“Okay. Very important question, Hongjoong Kim.”

“Oh no. Not my last name.”

“Do you leave dishes in the sink over night?”

“… no?”

“Why did that sound like a question?”

“Because I mostly use paper plates and like… plastic utensils, so I don’t have to worry about dishes?”

“Barbaric.”

“Excuse me?”

“How often do you clean?”

“I pick up after myself.”

“No. Clean. Like with a rag and cleaning solution.”

“… how often do you want me to clean?”

“That was not the question.”

“Why am I feeling so incredibly judged right now?”

“Because you are being judged.”

“Mm… fine. Biweekly? Maybe? Look, if you want me to clean more often, I will. That’s what roommates do, right? Compromise? Why do I feel like a slob?!”

Seonghwa choked on a laugh at the panicked timber Hongjoong’s voice had taken.

“I’m a little high maintenance. Just want you to be aware of what you’re getting into,” Seonghwa teased.

“Are you telling me to retract my offer?” Hongjoong goaded, making Seonghwa straighten his shoulders.

“No! No, please, I want to room with you,” Seonghwa said, hoping his voice was as close to dripping honey as he could manage. He grinned at the answering laugh.

“Okay, Princess,” Hongjoong replied, the taunting nickname tickling Seonghwa’s ear in a way he wasn’t prepared for. After a skipped heartbeat, he bit the inside of his lip and sat up on the bed, willing his face to cool as he launched into another topic.

---

Wooyoung never gave up on the idea of Seonghwa submitting pictures to a modeling agency. In fact, he seemed more adamant than ever as summer progressed, leaving them desperate to get out of the sweltering heat and down entire glasses of lemonade, or, as they were right now, diving in the pool.

“Wait, wait, wait, stay right where you are!” Wooyoung suddenly exclaimed, wading over to the pool steps. Seonghwa, sitting on the side of the pool with his legs dangling in the water, watched him curiously as he scrambled out of the pool and fast-walked over to his things, hastily drying his hands and grabbing hold of his cell phone. When Wooyoung held the device up in Seonghwa’s direction, Seonghwa quickly wrapped his arms around his torso.

“Yah! Don’t take pictures!” Seonghwa yelled.

“Oh, come on! Every portfolio has to have a summer thirst-trap!” Wooyoung replied.

“Says who?”

“Says me! Now put those abs on display!”

“Wooyoung. There’s no portfoli-”

“Yes there is. It’s a folder named ‘Seonghwa’s Portfolio’ that exists on my desktop, and in the description, it says ‘For my wonderful, amazing best friend who needs to grow a pair and actually submit this thing to Vogue’!,” Wooyoung said.

“God, you would, too,” Seonghwa groaned. “And what abs? The abs disappeared due to couch potato-ing.”

“You’re still hot! Indulge me, please?” Wooyoung asked with a pout. It was a losing battle, and Seonghwa knew it. Bashful, Seonghwa uncurled his arms from his torso, leaning back on them instead. As a last thought, he ran his fingers through his wet hair to slick the strands back. Wooyoung grinned at the display of defeat, giving him orders, as usual. Counting the cherry blossom tree at college, this would be the fifth time Wooyoung wrapped him up into taking photos ‘for his portfolio’. Seonghwa was still convinced he’d never send it anywhere, but Wooyoung had fun with it, and maybe Seonghwa enjoyed looking through the pictures and imagining himself as an actual model. He was thrown from his thoughts at Wooyoung’s whistle. “You know, I should just send this picture to Christian. That’d get his attention real quick.”

“You don’t even know Christian’s number,” Seonghwa challenged, his stomach swooping with humiliation at the very thought of his shirtless picture displayed for Christian.

“Aw, you’re right,” Wooyoung said sadly. Seonghwa tensed when a mischievous smile crept onto his lips. “But I bet everyone in our group chat would appreciate it!”

“Don’t you dare-”

Seonghwa didn’t finish, pool water splashing violently as he yanked his legs out and sprang into a run for Wooyoung. Wooyoung screeched at the threat, turning and running himself, bare-foot across the grassy backyard, but more importantly, he still had his phone, and he was still tapping on the screen-!

Seonghwa used every ounce of power he had in his legs to close the distance between himself and Wooyoung, smushing Wooyoung’s body into a back-hug and lifting his feet clear off the ground. Wooyoung laughed and swung his feet, squirming in his hold.

“It’s already sent!” Wooyoung said gleefully, holding the screen up for Seonghwa to see that, yes, there was a shirtless picture of himself sent in the group chat. He groaned, setting Wooyoung back down.

“Why?!” Seonghwa sighed.

“Because! I want some back-up, and if the only way I can convince you that you should totally go for this modeling thing, for real, is for you to hear it from them instead of me, then I’ll make that happen!” Wooyoung insisted. Of course. If Wooyoung wanted it, he’d go after it.

With a mix of emotions, the most prevalent of them being defeat, embarrassment, and disbelief, Seonghwa watched as Wooyoung typed a message to go along with the picture, urging their friends to agree that Seonghwa could be a model. A tiny little part of him anticipated what Hongjoong would say. … what all his friends would say, not just Hongjoong.

The replies didn’t all come at once, but by the time the next day had rolled around, Wooyoung had enough ammo to drive his point home.

Hongjoong had only given a thumbs up, and he never mentioned it when they talked on the phone.

Seonghwa was left mildly disgruntled by the fact.

---

Seonghwa had seen many pictures of the house he would be calling home for his sophomore year of college. Hongjoong had been very helpful, sending front and back views, as well as pictures of the living room, kitchen, bathroom, what would be his bedroom, and even a picture of Hongjoong’s own bedroom, to prove that the rooms were the same size. When Wooyoung and Seonghwa drove up to the house for the first time, it felt familiar.

Hongjoong walking out of the house to greet them was anything but familiar.

“What?! When!?” Wooyoung yelled. He abandoned Seonghwa at the trunk of the car to bound up the short sidewalk and bury his hands in Hongjoong’s hair. Seonghwa stood rooted to the spot, hands frozen in mid-reach.

Hongjoong had cut his hair.

Hongjoong had dyed his hair. Blond. Bleach blond.

He looked entirely too smug about it, grinning at an all-too excited Wooyoung as he let the man touch and prod and ask questions. Seonghwa understood Wooyoung’s excitement. The shorter, blond strands really made Hongjoong’s features stand out, and Seonghwa guessed that was why he’d never really noticed how handsome he was before.

Hongjoong’s attention was suddenly on him, and he straightened a little.

“Need help, Princess?” Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa balked at the nickname, heat rising to his cheeks exactly as it had the first time Hongjoong had called him that. The major difference was that he was actually face to face with Hongjoong, now, and Wooyoung had heard it, too. He could not allow them to see how it affected him, or he’d never live it down.

“Yes, actually, so get over here and take this box,” Seonghwa replied, hefting one of the heaviest boxes, out of spite, and gesturing for Hongjoong to take it. Hongjoong laughed and closed the distance between them, holding his arms out for the box. Hongjoong’s knees buckled at the weight.

“Wh- what is in this thing?!” Hongjoong asked, straining.

“Essentials,” Seonghwa shrugged.

“High maintenance is right,” Hongjoong muttered. Seonghwa wanted to whack his arm, but he didn’t want Hongjoong to drop his things, so he didn’t. Shaking off whatever weird mood was clinging to him, he focused on bringing his things in the house. Hearing that they were back in town, Jongho showed up not long after. With four people scurrying about, it didn’t take long to get Seonghwa’s things unpacked and situated. Everything was nearly done when a furniture van showed up out front, delivering Seonghwa’s bed.

“Wait, is that a twin?” Jongho commented. They were all pressed up against the walls, trying to navigate the workmen while staying out of their way.

“Is it not supposed to be a twin?” One of the workmen asked, hesitating.

“No, it’s supposed to be a twin,” Seonghwa reassured.

“Can you even fit on a twin? Will your feet hang off?” Wooyoung questioned.

“It’s fine! I wanted more room in my bedroom. Hongjoong’s double bed takes up more than half of his room,” Seonghwa pouted.

“He’s small enough for a twin. Maybe you need to switch beds,” Jongho snorted.

“Yah,” Hongjoong protested half-heartedly.

“Hey, you said you had sodas in the fridge, right, Joong?” Wooyoung asked, not even waiting for an answer before padding his feet down the hallway.

“Yeah. I put the whole case in last night. Do you guys want one?” Hongjoong asked, glancing between Seonghwa and Jongho. Then, his gaze slid to the workmen. “Do you guys want one? They’re Pepsis. You’re more than free to have one.”

Seonghwa smiled to himself. There was the gentleman Seonghwa knew, the one he’d missed terribly over the summer, looking particularly handsome with that new undercut and color, the familiar multitude of earrings lining his ears, his fair skin proving that his love for the indoors couldn’t be challenged by the lure of summer-

He was staring.

When he realized, he felt heat rush to his cheeks again.

It wasn’t a big deal, he reasoned with himself. Hongjoong looked different, and Seonghwa was trying to get used to the new look. That was all.

---

That was not all.

Seonghwa had come to the horrifying conclusion that the signs had been there for a while, but he’d diligently and protectively ignored them because… what kind of divine punishment was it, to develop a crush on the very man he’d already rejected, the very man who had become one of his closest friends, the very man who’d said he was happy with how things turned out between them because dating could create a fallout leading to the dismantling of a group of people he’d come to think of as his family away from his real family?

A man he now lived with.

It was laughable, but Seonghwa wasn’t laughing. He was just trying to navigate his sophomore year of college without fucking something irreparable up.

Getting milkshakes at Flavor Forge Parlor with Wooyoung helped.

“The Chocolate Raspberry Truffle, please,” Seonghwa ordered at the counter.

“You’re going to try all the flavors they have before you know it,” Wooyoung teased next to him.

“All the flavors I’m actually interested in, yes,” Seonghwa agreed.

“Leave the rest to me. A Mint Cookies and Cream, please!” Wooyoung exclaimed. Seonghwa huffed and paid for their drinks. Waiting next to the counter, Seonghwa checked his phone. Yunho and Mingi were fighting about something in the group chat. A pinprick of something warm, yet acidic hit him upon seeing Hongjoong try to intervene. Then, something much more solid and rough yanked him back into the present. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s Christian!”

Wooyoung was whacking his arm and hissing into his ear. Seonghwa turned wide eyes to the door, where, sure enough, Christian had walked through with a little chime of the bell. No one followed him in.

He was alone.

“Chocolate Raspberry Truffle and Mint Cookies and Cream!” Someone called their order. Seonghwa rushed to grab the shakes, handing Wooyoung his.

“Go over there,” Wooyoung whispered, nearly shoving Seonghwa forward. Seonghwa planted his feet into the ground.

“Stop it,” Seonghwa hissed. He’d seen Christian glance their way. They probably looked very suspicious with the way Wooyoung was acting. “I’m here for a milkshake.”

“You can get a milkshake and a boyfriend, you wimp” Wooyoung insisted. Seonghwa felt hands press against his back. “Go!”

The push was a little harder than Seonghwa had anticipated. He shot forward with a gasp, right as Christian stopped in front of the counter. To avoid bowling him right over, Seonghwa put his arms out… which then resulted in some of his milkshake spilling over the rim and onto Christian’s shirt.

Seonghwa was absolutely mortified.

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa shouted angrily, whipping his head over his shoulder to glare daggers at his friend. Wooyoung, however, just gleefully laughed and ran out of the parlor. Seonghwa turned back around and fretted. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. He pushed me!” Seonghwa exclaimed, rushing over to a nearby table and yanking a few napkins out of the dispenser. He practically shoved them into Christian’s hands. “What were you going to get? I’ll pay for it.”

“Hey,” Christian said. Registering the tone as amused, Seonghwa tried to pull himself out of his own panic. Christian was smiling. “Seriously. It’s fine. I’m going home after this and the shirt will go straight in the washing machine.”

Seonghwa bit his lip, still unable to relax as Christian used the napkins to wipe off the worst of the ice cream.

“That’s… good, but please, let me buy whatever you were going to get anyway,” Seonghwa offered. Christian scrunched the napkins up and threw them in a nearby bin before getting back in line.

“If you insist, but you don’t have to,” Christian answered. His eyebrows furrowed as he gave Seonghwa a look-over. “Why do you look familiar?”

Seonghwa couldn’t deny he was happy that Christian remembered him, but there was nothing beyond that, even as they slipped into small talk and then slipped into the same booth. Christian still had that calming, charismatic presence that Seonghwa had clocked immediately on the day of Freshman orientation. He was still insanely good-looking. He’d probably make one hell of a great boyfriend. Still, after a chat, they bid farewell and Seonghwa left with a bittersweet reminder that his heart was too preoccupied with the person waiting for him at home. The treacherous thing just beat harder at the thought of seeing him.

---

Wooyoung was now suspicious of him, and that wasn’t good.

“You crushed so hard on that guy, and now, what, those feelings just went poof?” Wooyoung asked, disbelief coating every syllable. Seonghwa refused to look at him. Instead, he focused on his reflection in the mirror, leaning forward to slide an earring in his ear.

“How many crushes have you had since I met you?” Seonghwa asked, satisfied when the back of the earring was secured. Silver crescent moons shined in the light when he cocked his head.

“Oh, a million. But you’re not me. You fall harder,” Wooyoung pointed out before gently taking hold of Seonghwa’s chin and turning him in his direction. Wooyoung’s eyes bounced between one earring to the other before he smiled. “Cute!”

“Thank you. And I hardly knew the guy, Woo. He was just hot and charming,” Seonghwa answered, backing away from Wooyoung’s touch to grab his wallet and keys.

“I’m not hearing a reason not to pursue this guy,” Wooyoung drawled.

“I’m just not interested,” Seonghwa sighed, giving Wooyoung a pointed look. “What I am interested in is having fun at this party.”

Seonghwa was all too happy when Wooyoung latched onto the new conversation topic, gushing about how he couldn’t believe he hadn’t managed to drag Seonghwa out to a party yet this year. He was still babbling when they made their way out of the bedroom and down the short hall, where Hongjoong, Yunho, Mingi, and San were already in the living room. Hongjoong looked up at them as they entered, and Seonghwa took in as much of him as he could without being too obvious.

The light eyeliner beneath Hongjoong’s eyes was a little devastating.

“Okay, but, how are we all going to cram into one vehicle?” Hongjoong asked as they made their way out of the house. Yeosang and Jongho were apparently going to meet them there.

“I call shotgun!” Mingi yelled, making a run for it.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Yunho exclaimed, racing after him.

“Well I’m driving,” San laughed, jingling his keys for effect.

“I can just sit in Seonghwa’s lap,” Wooyoung chuckled, snaking his arms around Seonghwa’s torso. “Unless Hongjoong wants to!”

It was an innocent comment. Seonghwa knew that. But the possibility of Hongjoong sitting in his lap was wreaking havoc on his entire nervous system. He turned panicked eyes to Hongjoong and was startled to see Hongjoong looking at him with just as much trepidation.

They held eye contact for a heartbeat.

“Wh- why does it have to be me sitting on someone’s lap?!” Hongjoong protested, finally looking away. Seonghwa swallowed and willed his face not to get too hot.

“Because you’re the smallest,” San and Wooyoung chimed in. Even through the embarrassment, Seonghwa quickly brought a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“You’re acting like I’m three feet tall. None of you are giants except for the twin towers over there,” Hongjoong grumbled. Everyone turned Yunho and Mingi’s way, amused at how the two had fists in each other’s shirts and were in a pull-and-push war for the front passenger seat. In the end, Yunho won out, leaving Mingi pouting with his arms crossed. San crawled into the driver’s seat, leaving Mingi, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa to squeeze into the back.

Wooyoung opened the door and ushered Hongjoong in first, leaving Seonghwa eternally grateful that there would be no chance of Hongjoong in his lap. Maybe in another situation, another scenario, if they were alone- but no, not even then. Seonghwa shook his head, banishing the thoughts away. He really needed to get over this stupid little fruitless crush. Next year, he’d look for other accommodations. Maybe Wooyoung would need a change of scenery, too, and they’d find something for just the two of them.

He couldn’t dwell on the way his own thoughts stung.

So caught up in said thoughts, he didn’t pay much attention to the fact Wooyoung was ushering him in next. It was only as he was climbing into the car that a sense of confusion tickled his brain. If Wooyoung was going to sit in his lap, it’d be much more comfortable to do so if Seonghwa was sitting on the side, not squeezed in the middle.

His sense of confusion tripled when hands were suddenly on his hip and shoving him too far over. He squeaked, flailed, and tensed when he landed right onto Hongjoong’s lap, arms catching himself on the inside of the door. Hongjoong made a soft “oof!” noise beneath him, prompting Seonghwa to immediately right himself and grab on to the back of San’s headrest, using it to lift his weight off of Hongjoong’s legs.

“What the hell, Wooyoung?!” Seonghwa hissed, whipping his head back to stare imploringly at his best friend, who was already taking the middle seat. Mingi was climbing in, effectively taking up all the room, and he shut the door behind him.

Wooyoung’s smirk came with a glint in his eyes that Seonghwa did not like. It was too knowledgeable, too wayward. Seonghwa found it a little hard to breathe.

“Joong wants to show how strong and manly he is. You can sit in his lap instead,” Wooyoung snickered. The car erupted with laughter.

“… I never said that,” Hongjoong groaned.

“But you were complaining about sitting on someone’s lap,” Yunho pointed out, body twisted so he could see from the front seat.

“You were fighting with Mingi. How did you even hear that?” Hongjoong asked.

“Come on, Wooyoung. Move. I’ll crush him,” Seonghwa pleaded.

“You will not crush me,” Hongjoong immediately replied, petulant.

“I heard you! You said oof!” Seonghwa retorted, twisting his torso as he hung onto the headrest so he could actually see Hongjoong. It was dark in the car, with only a streetlight’s light seeping into the windows. Even so, Seonghwa thought Hongjoong’s cheeks were pink.

“That’s because you suddenly fell into my lap!” Hongjoong explained.

“Well I can’t see well with Seonghwa standing up like this, so something needs to happen,” San voiced.

“Move, Wooyoung!” Seonghwa insisted.

“I’m not moving,” Wooyoung denied.

“Suddenly I’m glad I didn’t get shotgun,” Mingi laughed.

“Seriously. Front row seats to the drama,” Yunho chirped.

“Oh for the love of-” Hongjoong said, cutting himself off. Seonghwa tensed when Hongjoong’s hands wrapped around his waist, gently tugging. “It’s fine. You won’t crush me.”

The warmth of Hongjoong’s hands seeped through Seonghwa’s shirt, making his breath stutter. He slowly let go of the headrest, stiffly allowing himself to fall back down onto Hongjoong’s lap. He could not believe this was happening. He could not believe how close he was to Hongjoong, in his lap, with Hongjoong’s hands on his waist-

He could not let anyone see how much this was affecting him.

He turned in Hongjoong’s lap, back facing the door, and promptly shoved Wooyoung’s leg with his foot.

“Ow!” Wooyoung exclaimed, as San was starting the car. “You’re wearing boots! That might actually leave a mark!”

“Good,” Seonghwa huffed.

“Seat belts, children,” San warned. The words just fueled Seonghwa’s irritation.

“I don’t even get a seat belt like this!” Seonghwa exclaimed.

“Oh no. Seonghwa has become a ruler-breaker now,” Yunho laughed. Seonghwa sent him a glare before he leaned over to allow Hongjoong to buckle the seat belt over himself. His heart stuttered when Hongjoong’s arms wrapped around his middle.

“I got him,” Hongjoong said with a grin.

“Ooohhh, see, he really does want to show he’s strong and macho,” Mingi taunted. There was another round of laughter. Seonghwa diligently looked out of the window opposite of him, stewing in his own misery as they drove onto the road. At least it was a college party, which meant it was nearby and he wouldn’t be in this predicament for very long.

“… hey.”

It was Hongjoong’s voice, low enough to catch only Seonghwa’s attention. Wooyoung and Mingi had started a conversation about a class they shared.

“Hm?” Seonghwa asked, willing himself to look. Hongjoong was close like this, and Seonghwa was aware of every little movement of the body against his own. It was fascinating, watching the light flicker by in rectangles across Hongjoong’s face.

“Are you comfortable?” Hongjoong asked. Seonghwa was tempted to shove his hand in Hongjoong’s face and tell him to stop being so kind.

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa murmured. Every time light streamed in, Hongjoong’s dark brown eyes seemed to light up beautifully. Again, he was struck by how handsome Hongjoong was. In a moment of weakness, assailed by the heaviness of his own longing, Seonghwa just allowed himself to stare, to take in Hongjoong’s pretty eyes and sloped nose and new haircut and… very kissable lips.

It was maddening, even more so by the way Hongjoong’s own gaze traveled across his face, never straying far.

Seonghwa’s breath caught when Hongjoong moved, one arm disconnecting from Seonghwa’s waist and a hand reaching up.. up.. like he was going to cup Seonghwa’s jaw-

The fingers made contact with his earlobe, instead, gently brushing it.

“Weren’t you wearing two earrings?” Hongjoong asked.

Spell broken, Seonghwa’s own hand flew up to his ear. He gasped when he felt nothing but skin, quickly checking his other ear and feeling the familiar crescent-shaped metal.

“Oh no,” Seonghwa said in a rush of breath. He’d never worn this set of earrings before. Maybe the backs were loose? Had it slipped out in his panicked state earlier, or even before they got into the car?

“What’s wrong?” San asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

“I lost my earring at some point,” Seonghwa explained, glancing around. The car slowed and stopped, and Seonghwa realized they were already at their destination.

“The moon ones?” Wooyoung clarified. There were clicks of seat belts being undone, and then a quick search of the backseat for the fallen piece of silver was conducted. Nothing came of it, though, other than finding an old fry under the driver’s seat, to which they teased San mercilessly.

“It’s alright,” Seonghwa urged, reaching up to take out the earring he still had. “It could have fallen out before I even got in the car. Let’s just go in.”

He was disappointed, sure, but he didn’t want to waste his friends’ time.

“I’ll stay out here to help you find it,” Hongjoong offered.

“It’s alright, Joong,” Seonghwa repeated with a fond smile. For a second, Seonghwa thought he wasn’t going to let it go, that he would stubbornly stay by the car. But in the next moment, he relented, and there was a beep as San used his key fob to lock the doors.

Seonghwa caught Wooyoung looking at Hongjoong and then back at Seonghwa with that same sharp twinkle in his eye and felt like throwing up. He knew his best friend, and he knew his best friend was catching on to what he’d desperately been trying to hide. He knew he couldn’t allow that to happen, because Wooyoung was everything but subtle. What Wooyoung wanted, Wooyoung almost always got. And as much as he loved Wooyoung, he couldn’t let him have this.

They had only been in the house for minutes, had only greeted a few people, hadn’t even found Yeosang and Jongho yet, when Seonghwa threaded his fingers through Wooyoung’s and leaned close to his ear.

“I want to talk to you,” Seonghwa whispered. Wooyoung’s eyebrows raised a notch, but he nodded instantly.

“Wait, you two are already wandering away somewhere? I don’t like this favoritism,” San complained.

“Sorry! We’ll be back soon,” Seonghwa promised. He led Wooyoung through the living room, through the kitchen, and out the back sliding-glass door before he realized. “Hey. This is the same house we met them in, isn’t it?”

The pool was there, though covered now that the weather had turned too cold. The tree, in the far corner of the backyard, where he’d hid after Hongjoong had messed up his attempt to hit on Christian, was still there. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Yeah. The guy who owns it throws a lot of parties,” Wooyoung explained. He gave a quick squeeze to Seonghwa’s hand. “Over here, maybe?”

Wooyoung guided him away from most of the noise, walking around the side of the house where nothing existed but big, trimmed hedges and a stone walkway. Seonghwa turned to face him on that walkway when they were officially out of sight of the pool.

“Joong and I are not a thing,” Seonghwa started.

“Well, not yet-”

“Don’t,” Seonghwa cut him off. The corner’s of Wooyoung’s lips were curling up as he opened his mouth, but Seonghwa hurriedly spoke again. “I’m serious. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

The mischievous smile faltered and Wooyoung leaned in like he was hearing the gossip of the century.

“I’m sorry. What?!” Wooyoung hissed. Seonghwa took a deep breath and told him everything. How he’d finally summoned the courage to walk up to Christian, how Hongjoong had intercepted and hit on him, how Seonghwa had harshly turned him down, how they made a truce in the hallway outside the billiards room, and everything Hongjoong said about how he was happy things had worked out the way they did.

It was actually comical, to see the slack-jawed shock on Wooyoung’s face.

“How did you keep this from me for a whole year?” Wooyoung asked. He leaned back, eyes going wide as if another thought just occurred to him. “That’s why you’re not interested in Christian anymore! Oh my God, you and Hongjoong would be so cute though.”

Seonghwa flinched.

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” Seonghwa sighed.

“I heard that Hongjoong thinks you’re attractive and you have a crush!” Wooyoung replied.

“And nothing is going to come of it!” Seonghwa said, maybe a little too loudly. Frustration was starting to bubble up inside of him because of Wooyoung’s inability to take this seriously. “What would you do, hm? If Hongjoong and I dated and he made me cry?”

“I’d kill him,” Wooyoung answered honestly.

“Exactly. He said he’s seen friend groups break apart over that stuff. I’m not going to put us in that position,” Seonghwa stated, holding true to his convictions. The look in Wooyoung’s eyes was too soft to allow Seonghwa any relief from the conversation.

“But you and I both know Hongjoong. He wouldn’t do that,” Wooyoung said. There was no doubt to be heard. Seonghwa kind of felt like crying right now.

“Not on purpose. No, I don’t think he would,” Seonghwa said quietly, with a self-depreciating smile. “But I’m not going to take the chance, to lose him or anyone else. I was going to ask you, do you want to room together next year? I don’t think I can go through another year as his roommate.”

Seonghwa’s gaze fell to the ground. He felt like curling in on himself and suddenly wished he had never come to this party. He could be at home, away from prying eyes, where he could just let himself feel what he needed to without putting on a brave face.

He’d wanted to go home the last time he was at a party, too.

Maybe college parties were bad luck for him, in general.

“Seonghwa,” Wooyoung said gently. Hands came up and wrapped themselves around Seonghwa’s arms, and Seonghwa lifted his gaze just enough to make eye contact with his best friend, who no longer held any traces of teasing on his face. “I hate to break it to you, but if you’re already at this point, where you look so damn sad right now… the only thing you can do is face it.” Seonghwa opened his mouth to protest, but Wooyoung kept going. “What happens when you give him some pathetic excuse as to why you don’t want to live with him anymore? What happens when you start avoiding him? He’ll catch on to it. He already looked hurt when you were so adamant about not sitting in his lap earlier.”

“What? He did not,” Seonghwa denied straightaway, because that wasn’t right. Hongjoong didn’t see him like that, hadn’t since Seonghwa’s harsh dismissal on the night they met.

“He did. I only caught it because he didn’t think anyone was looking,” Wooyoung urged. “And the glances you two were stealing at each other tonight? Please. Why do you think I caught on?”

“Just because I’m in love with him doesn’t mean he is,” Seonghwa insisted. Then, he froze at his own words.

Oh.

He’d never said it out loud before, and he certainly wasn’t prepared to use that word. He allowed the confession to flow through his veins and settle like a heavy weight on his chest. It was Hongjoong. Of course it was more than a little crush, substantially more than whatever he’d felt for Christian, and something that wasn’t going to fade so easily as new housing accommodations.

He couldn’t believe he’d turned Hongjoong down.

He couldn’t believe this stupid situation.

Wooyoung was suddenly closer, wrapping Seonghwa in a hug and tugging his head down into the crook of his neck.

“Hey. I’ll back off. You do whatever you want to do, but have a little faith in us, alright?” Wooyoung spoke soothingly, rubbing a hand over Seonghwa’s back. “None of the guys seem like dickheads who would just cut you off, for any reason.”

There was a wet sting behind Seonghwa’s eyes. His reciprocating hug was a little tight, but Wooyoung didn’t complain.

“I love all of you guys,” Seonghwa warbled. Wooyoung laughed and patted his back.

“I know you do,” Wooyoung replied warmly. “It’s just Hongjoong that you want to climb up like a tree-”

“You’re awful,” Seonghwa hissed, shoving him away.

---

Seonghwa was proud of himself. Though a little drained from the emotions his chat with Wooyoung had stirred up, he didn’t let it ruin his night. They returned to the group, assuring everything was fine to those who asked, and met up with Jongho and Yeosang. They got drinks and meandered about, danced a little, and were only mildly upset to find their previous sanctuary, billiards table, darts, and all, had been overrun by others.

Instead, they made their way outside, where there was a fire blazing in the middle of a fire pit. Some amazing souls had bags of marshmallows, boxes of graham crackers, and piles of chocolate bars they left out for anyone to have, so they quickly gathered sticks. Only one of the logs around the fire pit was empty, so Seonghwa and Jongho took a seat and were deemed the marshmallow roasters while the others hovered close by.

“Do you think someone spiked these marshmallows?” Mingi asked.

“How would you spike marshmallows?” Yunho quipped.

“Wait, that’s a good idea,” Wooyoung said, promptly shoving his cup of jungle juice at Seonghwa. “Hey, dip that marshmallow in here!”

“Ew, no,” Seonghwa grimaced, quickly putting the marshmallow over the flames instead. Wooyoung quickly switched targets, shoving his drink at Jongho instead.

“Jongho! Please?” Wooyoung begged.

“Don’t give in to his whims,” Yeosang said.

“… it’s kind of interesting, though, isn’t it?” Jongho asked. He turned his stick and carefully dipped the marshmallow into the juice of Wooyoung’s cup.

“Yessss,” Wooyoung celebrated, practically vibrating where he stood.

“Who wants a soggy marshmallow?” Hongjoong asked, his top lip curling.

“Wooyoung, apparently,” San laughed, a little too loudly. He was practically swaying on his feet, an unfortunate light-weight.

“I’m all for creative ways to get more alcohol in me,” Wooyoung said. Jongho withdrew the stick with a subtle shake to try to stop the dripping and held it up. Wooyoung used his teeth to drag the marshmallow off the stick and into his mouth. Seonghwa did not stop grimacing as Wooyoung chewed. “… yeah, the taste is fine, but it’s like… mushy and kind of grainy.”

The group laughed.

“Uh, Seonghwa,” Yeosang said, pointing to the fire. Seonghwa tore his gaze away from Wooyoung to see his marshmallow black and on fire.

“Shit,” Seonghwa cursed. He took the marshmallow away from the fire and blew it out, but by then, it was significantly charred. He pouted.

“Hey, I like the char,” Hongjoong spoke up from behind him. Seonghwa swung the still-smoking marshmallow closer to his face.

“This charred?” Seonghwa asked in disbelief, but Hongjoong only grinned.

“Sure,” Hongjoong said. He reached up and easily pulled the blackened part off the marshmallow, leaving a gooey white center still on the stick.

“Ew, Wooyoung likes soggy marshmallows and Hongjoong likes ash. I need better friends,” Yunho teased. Seonghwa was still watching Hongjoong eat his part of the marshmallow, licking the sticky remnants off of his thumb as he did so. Seonghwa quickly wrapped his lips around the marshmallow still left on his stick, turning back to the fire in hopes the flames would mask the pinkness of his cheeks.

“They both put their mouths on the sticks. We need new sticks,” Mingi complained.

“What we need is more alcohol!” Wooyoung declared, after finishing off his cup.

“More alcohol!” San joined in.

“You need to slow down,” Jongho cautioned.

“Let them have their fun,” Yunho chuckled. He walked between the two, throwing his arms over their shoulders. “Come on, we’ll get you more alcohol.”

“Yay!” San and Wooyoung cheered.

“I don’t know if Yunho is enough to handle both of them, so I’ll head in too,” Yeosang volunteered, shadowing them.

“I’m finding more sticks,” Mingi said.

“I’ll help,” Jongho answered, standing from the log. “Hey, Hongjoong, come sit here so my spot isn’t taken.”

“Got it,” Hongjoong said, taking a seat next to Seonghwa. Seonghwa wished he wasn’t as aware of every movement Hongjoong made as he was. “Psst.”

Seonghwa blinked, turning toward Hongjoong, who was grinning at him, and… shaking something? Seonghwa’s gaze dropped to his hand, hidden between the gap between their legs. There were keys in his palm.

“… why do you have San’s car keys?” Seonghwa asked.

“He’s really easy to pickpocket when he’s drunk,” Hongjoong explained. Seonghwa tried very hard to keep a straight face, but failed.

“And why did you pickpocket the poor guy?” Seonghwa laughed.

“Because it’s fun,” Hongjoong replied. Seonghwa shook his head in amusement and felt Hongjoong nudge his shoulder. “Do you want to go see if we can find that earring?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened. He honestly hadn’t thought about the earring since they got inside.

“We already looked...” Seonghwa trailed off.

“Not very well.”

“We don’t even know if it fell off in the car.”

“I know you were wearing them in the house right before we left. I bet it’s in the car,” Hongjoong asserted.

“And the glances you two were stealing at each other tonight? Please. Why do you think I caught on?”

Wooyoung’s words came back to him.

Hongjoong had been paying enough attention to him, to be so sure Seonghwa had been wearing little studs in his ears before they left?

“… okay,” Seonghwa weakly agreed, feeling jittery. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, couldn’t get his hopes up, but…

Mingi and Jongho chose that moment to arrive with new sticks.

“We’ll be right back,” Hongjoong announced. Seonghwa stood almost on autopilot when Hongjoong did.

“Where are you going?” Mingi asked, taking their seats.

“To the car!” Hongjoong yelled over his shoulder. Seonghwa heard Jongho say something, then, but simply followed Hongjoong back into the house, through the front door, and up the street to where they’d parked. It was cooler without the fire, and Seonghwa tugged his jacket closer to himself.

At one point, they had all four doors open. Seonghwa groaned when his knee cracked, in an odd position to thrust his arm under the seat, and laughed when Hongjoong lost his balance and went shoulder-first into the center console. They cleared out a compartment with a ton of receipts, about losing their minds when they found one with a clear, classic, red lipstick kiss. They swore they’d corner San when he was sober to ask about it. Hongjoong was using his phone as a flashlight when Seonghwa crawled into the front passenger seat. He then giggled and yanked the bar on the side of the seat, the back of the seat flopping straight down.

“What the hell?!” Hongjoong asked, jerking away from where the seat had almost come down on his head. Seonghwa just laughed and threw himself back, lying horizontally.

“No, why the hell am I looking in the front passenger seat? Unless my earring grew wings and flew, there’s no way it can be over here,” Seonghwa said, wiggling to get comfortable. Lying down felt nice. He closed his eyes.

“We haven’t been out here five minutes and you’re taking a nap?” Hongjoong asked.

“I am the princess,” Seonghwa replied. He immediately felt self-conscious about the comment, mentally berating himself. He wanted to act normal around Hongjoong. Bringing up that accursed nickname was not going to help him do that-

He couldn’t help but love the laugh it pulled from Hongjoong, though.

“Alright, fair,” Hongjoong snorted. There was shuffling, and Seonghwa was too curious to keep his eyes closed. Hongjoong was climbing into the driver’s seat, now, turning off the flashlight on his phone. “But if you get to nap, I do too.”

Hongjoong pulled the lever and the driver’s side seat back went down with a thump.

“I thought you were looking for my earring,” Seonghwa ribbed. He smushed his cheek into the seat as he watched Hongjoong lie back. It filled his chest with butterflies, seeing Hongjoong lying so close to him. Sure, the center console was separating them, but he was still right there, leaning his head to the side and meeting Seonghwa’s eyes with a stupidly handsome grin on his face.

“I came out here as your friend, not your servant,” Hongjoong teased.

The word ‘friend’ almost made Seonghwa recoil, the butterfly wings coming to a stop, and Seonghwa hated his reaction to it almost as much as he hated these feelings in the first place. That word shouldn’t feel like a slap. Hongjoong was an amazing friend, the absolute best, one that would be devastating to lose. He had to remember that. No matter what nonsense Wooyoung had spouted about Hongjoong seeing him in that light, Seonghwa had to cling on to what was realistic.

He opened his mouth to retort, though he wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. Thankfully, Hongjoong adjusted in his seat, and spoke first.

“Ow,” Hongjoong murmured, eyebrows furrowing. Seonghwa watched as he lifted his torso and snaked a hand underneath, feeling the seat. When whatever he grabbed glinted in the dull light, Seonghwa quickly sat up.

“No way,” Seonghwa gasped, grasping Hongjoong’s fist and staring at the crescent moon earring between his fingers.

“… your earring stabbed me in the ass,” Hongjoong huffed, also sitting up. “But I told you it’d be here!”

“… when I was hanging off the back of the headrest,” Seonghwa concluded. It must have fallen out, then, and slid behind San’s back, unnoticed.

“No back, though,” Hongjoong observed. Seonghwa grasped the earring and then unzipped his jacket pocket.

“If it fell out that easily, the backs aren’t good anyway. I have backup ones,” Seonghwa explained, fishing around in his pocket for the other earring and extra backs. He pulled down the visor and revealed the mirror, using it to put the earrings back in, pushing the backs on tightly for good measure. He smiled upon seeing them back where they belonged, and looked back at Hongjoong. “Thank you!”

The look Hongjoong was giving him was nothing short of fond.

“They’re new, right?” Hongjoong asked. At Seonghwa’s nod, he continued. “They suit you.”

Wooyoung had grabbed his chin and called them cute earlier.

It was entirely different hearing a compliment from Hongjoong.

He ducked his head, fidgeting, brain scrambling for something to say. It was hard, when he felt weighed down by his feelings. As he tried, though, the silence was becoming too long. Seonghwa realized he should have said thank you for the compliment, but he’d just said thank you for helping him find the earring, and wouldn’t two thank yous in a row be weird?

He glanced back up at Hongjoong in hopes he would say something. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Hongjoong’s gaze was still locked on him, but there was something about the way his jaw subtly moved (was he biting the inside of his lip?) and something about the twitch of his eyebrow that made Seonghwa feel like Hongjoong was… hesitating.

The butterflies were back in full force and the silence was deafening.

Seonghwa could easily say they should go back inside. He could busy himself with putting the back of the seat back up. But the way Hongjoong was looking at him was stopping him, feeding into a hope that he shouldn’t feel, a curiosity that he couldn’t fight against.

His eyes dropped to Hongjoong’s lips when they parted.

“You-”

There was a sudden, loud bang. Seonghwa nearly hopped a foot in the air.

“BOO!”

It took a moment for his muscles to unwind, for the knowledge that his friends were suddenly surrounding the car to seep into his brain, before Seonghwa nearly melted into the seat.

“Holy fuck. I think you gave me a heart attack,” Seonghwa gasped, thumping a hand against his chest. Hongjoong wasn’t in much better shape, running a hand shakily through his hair and offering their friends a glare.

“Thieves!” San dramatically exclaimed. The word was thwarted by a hiccup, and with the way San was slumped against Yunho, it was in no way intimidating.

“What are you doing to this car?” Jongho drawled, taking in the state of the laid back seats.

“Why are you even out here?” Hongjoong groaned.

“Why are you?” Jongho retorted. There was a loud gasp and Seonghwa suddenly felt arms wrap around him from behind.

“Your pretty earrings are back!” Wooyoung said, poking a finger at said earring.

“Oh. You found them? That’s cool,” Mingi commented. Yunho started offering a short explanation to Jongho and Yeosang, and Seonghwa used the time to gently extract Wooyoung’s arms from around him and pull the back of the seat back into place. He was vaguely aware of Hongjoong doing the same on the driver’s side.

“San is clearly not driving,” Mingi commented.

“Oh. Are we leaving?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, since I’m already in the driver’s seat with the keys,” Hongjoong sighed. Observing him, he looked a little… irritated. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, gaze lingering on him, his mind still replaying the moment before they were interrupted.

What was Hongjoong going to say?

“These two have certainly had enough,” Yeosang remarked, gesturing toward San and Wooyoung. San merely swayed right into Yunho’s chest and Wooyoung stuck his tongue out.

On the drive home, Yunho let Mingi take shotgun. Wooyoung happily crawled onto Seonghwa’s lap, and Yunho awkwardly took the middle so San could lean against the car door.

At home, they tried to make Wooyoung and San drink down a full glass of water and eat some food to sober up a little before everyone dispersed.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa parted with a goodnight and went to their respective bedrooms.

The moment was never brought up again, but Hongjoong sitting in that car, looking at him, with his silhouette highlighted by streetlight glow, came to Seonghwa’s mind often.

---

It was raining. It had been, all day long.

Thankfully, Seonghwa only had early classes, and they were done with. He was in the kitchen, making dinner. There was something methodical and peaceful about chopping the vegetables and measuring the spices that eased the tension in his shoulders. Cooking was fun. It sure beat trying to pound facts and theories from a textbook into his brain, which he’d been doing religiously lately. Sophomore year was more difficult than his freshmen year. He was also comforted by the fact that, if he cooked, he would ensure Hongjoong wouldn’t be inhaling nothing but take-out and would use an actual, metal spoon.

They were little wins, but they were important.

He hummed as he stirred the steaming pot of stew, pausing when he heard the telltale sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home,” Hongjoong’s voice filled the space. There was some shuffling, and the sound of an umbrella closing. “Jeez, it started pouring!”

Now that Hongjoong brought attention to it, Seonghwa could hear the steady flush of rain against the roof. He wondered when it became a downpour.

“Welcome home,” Seonghwa replied. The words had become heavy to say, even if the meaning behind them was sincere. He was still caught in a yo-yo effect – was he going to live with Hongjoong next year or was he going to try to find a new place? Wooyoung had said he’d back off, but it was very clear which path Wooyoung wanted him to take. Seonghwa still didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it.

“What’s that?” Hongjoong asked, walking up behind him and stealing a curious look at the pot.

“Beef stew,” Seonghwa replied, giving it another stir.

“It smells delicious. I’m starving,” Hongjoong confessed.

“Please tell me you’ve eaten today?” Seonghwa asked, side-eyeing him. His only answer was an innocent grin, and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “And what if I said this was all for me?”

“Then I would die of starvation right here on the kitchen floor, and you wouldn’t do that to me,” Hongjoong said confidently.

“Go wash your hands, at least.”

“I’m actually going to throw on another pair of pants. There’s water everywhere.”

Seonghwa glanced down to see the bottoms of Hongjoong’s jeans were soaked through. As Hongjoong bounded away, Seonghwa busied himself with turning off the stove and getting bowls from the cabinet until he thought he heard something strange.

He paused, waiting, but nothing abnormal greeted him.

Shrugging, he continued, scooping beef stew into one of the bowls and reaching for the next when Hongjoong’s bedroom door opened.

“Um. Seonghwa,” Hongjoong started. His tone of voice alone set Seonghwa on high alert. “… do you happen to know the best way to dry a mattress?”

Seonghwa blinked.

“… dry a mattress?” Seonghwa repeated. Hongjoong nodded, looking sheepish.

“I may have left my window open. All day,” Hongjoong replied. Seonghwa’s mouth fell open.

“… why would you even open your window today?” Seonghwa asked, setting the bowl of stew down on the counter with a thump and taking long strides as he passed Hongjoong and headed for his bedroom.

“The breeze was nice this morning!” Hongjoong replied defensively. Seonghwa kept walking until he crossed the threshold and into Hongjoong’s room. The window was shut, now, but there was clear evidence it’d been open all day. A huge dark spot pooled over Hongjoong’s sheets. With growing horror, Seonghwa realized the water had soaked straight through and dripped onto the floor, where a puddle of water was sneaking out from beneath the bed. “.. do we have a mop?”

Seonghwa nearly jumped when Hongjoong was suddenly right behind him.

“… yes, we have a mop. And I don’t think there’s any saving that mattress. Can’t wet mattresses grow mold?” Seonghwa asked, once again passing Hongjoong in search of a mop.

“But mattresses are expensive,” Hongjoong groaned. He whipped out his phone, hastily searching. “… maybe rice? Or cat litter?”

“We don’t have a cat. And do you realize how much rice we’d need?” Seonghwa asked, laughing at the mere suggestion. He ducked under the kitchen counter for a bucket and grabbed the mop.

“Fans? Do we have any fans to help push air through it?” Hongjoong asked, eyes still glued to the phone. Seonghwa made his way back into Hongjoong’s room, setting down the bucket and mop and ripping the soaked sheets off the mattress instead. He grimaced when he accidentally stepped in some water.

“You have a ceiling fan in here and I think I have a small plug-in fan,” Seonghwa answered. He bundled up the sheets and shoved them into Hongjoong’s hold. “Not that that’ll help much. Go put these in the washer.”

Hongjoong’s stomach chose that moment to growl, rather loudly. When his cheeks turned pink, Seonghwa was endeared.

“I’m hungry,” Hongjoong pouted.

“Whose fault is that? You’ll have to wait a little longer now,” Seonghwa said, gently shoving him out of the room. Trusting Hongjoong to take the sheets to the washer, he grabbed the mop, grimacing at the size of the pool on the floor and the thought of what the water was doing to the poor, old, wooden floorboards. With a plop, he dragged the mop through the water, trying to soak up what he could.

Seonghwa didn’t know how many times he wrung that mop out into the bucket. Hongjoong grabbed almost every towel they had, wiping down the windowsill and wall, and shoving them into the mattress to soak up water. The mattress was hefted onto its side and leaned against the wall, the ceiling fan going full-speed and Seonghwa’s smaller fan doing whatever it could.

Given its bedraggled state, Seonghwa knew the mattress was a lost cause. He couldn’t voice that, though, when Hongjoong still looked so hopeful that he’d be sleeping on it like nothing had happened when it dried.

The stew had to be reheated when they finally returned to the kitchen. Hongjoong didn’t look like he minded one bit, though, practically inhaling every bite. The sound of the washer running and the rain still falling were background noise to the clinks and soft, grateful slurps.

“Aahhh, that was so good,” Hongjoong said, slumping comfortably back in his chair and giving his belly a satisfied couple of pats. “Have I told you, lately, that you’re the best roommate ever?”

The speed at which Seonghwa brought another spoonful of stew to his mouth slowed. He mechanically chewed and cast his gaze somewhere on the table.

“You’ve never said that, actually,” Seonghwa replied after he swallowed.

“No? Well I’m going to start today,” Hongjoong spoke happily, unaware of Seonghwa’s inner turmoil. There was still a little stew in his bowl, but suddenly, the thought of finishing it was too much. He set his spoon in the bowl and stood, gathering dishes. Hongjoong babbled on. “I feel like most of the guys would have given me an earful, or laughed at me, but you just… saw a problem and helped me fix it. It’s been a long day, so I appreciate it. And you should start charging people for your cooking. But not me, because roommate privileges, and all that!”

It was a strange thing, to hold such affection for someone who didn’t understand the weight of their words or how badly they bruised.

“… I could still give you an earful,” Seonghwa responded, carefully masking any discomfort as he rinsed the dishes.

“Right after I praised you? No, don’t do that!” Hongjoong said, verging on a whine. A loud buzz overtook the house, signaling the washer was done. Hongjoong hopped up immediately. “Got it!”

The tension in Seonghwa’s shoulders stayed even with Hongjoong’s brief departure. He scrubbed the dishes with a vigor as his thoughts spiraled. Guilt gnawed at every available surface of his body, devastating awareness overcoming him.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way he was going to be able to bring himself to leave this house just because it was hard to keep his feelings under a neatly tied bow. Hongjoong would be hurt. He would know something was wrong, right away. But how long could Seonghwa keep doing this, keep hiding the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch, if they were always together?

“I hate to break it to you, but if you’re already at this point, where you look so damn sad right now… the only thing you can do is face it.”

Wooyoung’s words were haunting, a ghost at his back long after the dishes dried on the rack.

---

It was after Seonghwa had changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and was propped up in bed scrolling on his phone that Hongjoong slipped into his door frame, knocking on the already-open door. He, too, had dressed down for bed, the usual metal in his ears absent.

“… it’s still wet,” Hongjoong informed. Seonghwa connected the dots quickly.

“Of course it’s still wet. That mattress was soaked through,” Seonghwa replied.

“… where am I going to sleep, though?” Hongjoong asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him. Seonghwa set his phone down on the bed, throwing his legs over the side.

“You just washed your sheets, so they can be used. I have an extra blanket or two, if you want to make the couch more comfortable,” Seonghwa offered, fists digging into the mattress in anticipation of said things needing to be found. Hongjoong’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“That couch is a two-seater. As much as you guys enjoy likening me to a dwarf, I’m not that compact,” Hongjoong grumbled, his eyes narrowing at the upward twitch at the corners of Seonghwa’s lips. “And you know as well as I do that that couch isn’t comfortable.”

It wasn’t. It was one of the only pieces of furniture that Hongjoong’s uncle had left in the place, and it was no wonder why it was left behind. It was stiff, with threads coming undone in several noticeable spots and a terrible creak whenever someone shifted their weight on it.

“… well, maybe we could fold some of the blankets up on the floor? I’m not sure how soft that would be,” Seonghwa mused. He tried to remember how many blankets he actually had in the house.

“And walk to an eight o’clock class with a screwed up back? No thanks,” Hongjoong dismissed. Seonghwa pursed his lips.

“Call Jongho? His family has a guest room,” Seonghwa suggested.

“It’s almost eleven at night. I don’t want to burden his parents,” Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his blond locks.

“… you usually don’t go to bed until late. If you want, I can get a few hours now and you can wake me up? We’ll switch,” Seonghwa offered as a last resort. He’d be incredibly tired the next day, but he could lose a couple hours of sleep to help Hongjoong out.

“That’s not fair to you,” Hongjoong said. The hand that’d been messing with his hair slid down to grip the back of his neck, leaving the hair in a bit of a mess. He glanced off to the side, shrinking in on himself, something timid emerging in his posture. Seonghwa wasn’t sure what else he could possibly suggest, or what Hongjoong could possibly propose. “Can’t we just, share your bed? Just for tonight?”

Seonghwa stared.

It took a moment to remember he had to breathe to live.

“… Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said, his voice far too stable for the amount of chaos his entire being was experiencing. He hoped the finger that he used to point at the mattress beneath him wasn’t shaking. “This is a twin bed.”

“That’s your fault, for wanting more room,” Hongjoong muttered.

“That’s not the point,” Seonghwa retorted.

“It’s not a big deal, is it? You and Wooyoung have shared a bed.”

“A double bed.”

“We can make this work!” Hongjoong insisted. Seonghwa willed his body to stay still as Hongjoong drew closer, as if it were a shield blocking Hongjoong from the twin. A hand reached up and made a shooing gesture in front of his face. “Scoot over. We’ll see.”

Could Hongjoong hear how fast his heart was beating? It sounded like thunder in Seonghwa’s own ears. Everything about this was ridiculous. Even if Hongjoong had no idea how flustered the idea was making Seonghwa, just the thought of two grown-ass men sharing a twin bed was comical. And frankly, it was adding insult to injury. Surely, the universe was getting a kick out of torturing Seonghwa. It had recognized how content Seonghwa had been, lying down in San’s car with Hongjoong only a center console away, and wanted to push the boundaries.

Wordlessly, helplessly, Seonghwa swung his legs back up onto the mattress and scooted to the side. His bed wasn’t right against the wall, but close to it, with only enough space to fit a skinny nightstand, which he deposited his phone on. Seonghwa’s butt was hanging over the edge, just a little, to try to make room. Hongjoong looked rather pleased that there was no more resistance, something that made Seonghwa’s heart squeeze softly, before he climbed in.

He very quickly realized lying on his back wouldn’t work, so he rolled onto his side, back facing Seonghwa. Their legs brushed, but other than that, a small gap existed between them. Of course, that was only because Seonghwa was stiff as a board with his butt hanging off the mattress. How he would manage to sleep in this position, or with Hongjoong so close to him, only the Heavens knew.

“See? I fit,” Hongjoong commented, though still facing away from Seonghwa.

“I thought you didn’t want me to make jokes about you being compact,” Seonghwa managed, compelled to keep things light.

“Oh shut up,” Hongjoong laughed, reaching back to whack Seonghwa in the arm before sitting up and twisting his body Seonghwa’s way. “I’ll bring in a pillow. What time do you need up in the morning?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Gross. Do you want to be on this side, then, so you can get out of bed easier?”

“I like the wall over here, thank you very much. If anyone falls out of this bed tonight, it’s going to be you.”

“Gee, thanks. Do you move around a lot in your sleep?”

“Guess you’ll find out.”

With a snort, Hongjoong stood up and left the room, in search of a pillow and whatever else needed to be done before bed. Seonghwa stared at the empty door frame for a moment, before burying his face in his pillow and wishing he could scream into it.

---

The lights were out. Hongjoong was lying in bed, next to him, only this time, they were back-to-back. After some adjusting, they realized it was the comfiest way for both of them to share the twin. Unfortunately for Seonghwa, back-to-back literally meant flushed together, and he was just as aware of Hongjoong’s body heat seeping into his back as he was his still too-loudly-beating heartbeat. He tried to move as little as possible, but it was hard when every instinct wanted him to squirm.

“… did you ever submit that portfolio?”

Hongjoong’s voice filled the silence with a low timber. Seonghwa opened his eyes and could make out the dark outline of the nightstand in front of him. Days into their Sophomore year, Wooyoung had sent him, what he called, the ‘final’ modeling portfolio – a folder he’d built from pictures he’d taken and selected himself. Ever since Wooyoung had brought it up to the group, he’d been encouraged to submit it. He was surprised Hongjoong would be thinking about it or bringing it up in this moment, though.

“No,” Seonghwa answered simply.

“You should,” Hongjoong replied. Seonghwa’s fingers curled around the edge of the sheet covering them.

“… maybe. Wooyoung spent a lot of time on it,” Seonghwa admitted. He was honestly surprised his best friend hadn’t just submitted it behind his back. It seemed like a very Wooyoung thing to do, but Seonghwa had a feeling Wooyoung was waiting patiently for Seonghwa to be the one to act on it. “You know, sometimes, I kind of wish I was like Wooyoung-”

“Oh, now that’s dangerous,” Hongjoong quipped. Seonghwa could easily imagine the grin on Hongjoong’s face, and it made him smile.

“… in that he just… goes for whatever he wants. He doesn’t hold back,” Seonghwa continued, a familiar, pathetic longing crawling up his chest.

“He could use some holding back,” Hongjoong drawled. Even with the earlier dig, the comment was unexpected enough to make laughter bubble up from Seonghwa’s chest. He muffled it by pressing his mouth into the pillow. “But alright, in this case, yeah. Be more like Wooyoung. Submit that portfolio, first thing tomorrow.”

Seonghwa hummed, lifting his head out of his pillow and blinking into the darkness.

“We both know I’ll be getting a rejection letter,” Seonghwa replied. He felt Hongjoong shrug his shoulders behind him.

“Even if you do, you just send it out again. And again. If people crumbled at their first rejection, we wouldn’t have near the art that we do in the world today,” Hongjoong spoke earnestly. Seonghwa found himself smiling again. Hongjoong was always passionate when it came to anything artsy. “Plus, you’re gorgeous. They’d have to at least consider.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened. The fact it was dark, the fact he was facing away from Hongjoong, were his only saving graces, because his entire face flushed hot. Subconsciously, he knew Hongjoong thought he was good-looking. Hongjoong had approached him at that party, after all, before they even knew each other. Still, to hear it so clear and direct from his own mouth…

“Your biased,” Seonghwa mumbled, embarrassed. It was spoken so low, so slurred, that he wouldn’t have been surprised if Hongjoong didn’t hear.

“Biased?” Hongjoong repeated, throwing that theory out of the window. There was movement, and Seonghwa thought he’d probably lifted his head. “Because I’m your friend, or because I hit on you that one time?”

And oh, that was like a lightning bolt to the chest. The fact Hongjoong had hit on him was a long-buried notion in the friendship that had followed, only dug up again in Seonghwa’s own mind because of his treacherous newly-realized feelings. Did Hongjoong still think about that moment, too?

“Both,” Seonghwa answered, swallowing. Hongjoong merely laughed. Seonghwa was a little envious of how carefree he was, when Seonghwa felt like a wreck.

“Biased or not, good looks are good looks,” Hongjoong said to drive his point home. Seonghwa registered the words, but his mind was elsewhere, back in that crowd of people he’d been so adamant on wading through to get to Christian before Hongjoong had intercepted him. He heard the harsh rejection falling from his lips. He saw the grin on Hongjoong’s face turn upside down, heard the way he’d mumbled a dejected ‘sorry’.

His heart felt heavy, yearning for a way to rewrite time.

“… I never explained myself. For being such an asshole when you approached me at the party,” Seonghwa spoke through a thick throat.

“I thought you did, though? You told me you were in a bad mood,” Hongjoong answered, clearly puzzled. Seonghwa took a deep breath and willed his body to move. He turned, mindful of what little room they had, until he was lying on his back, his right shoulder hanging off the mattress. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hongjoong lift his head and turn it in his direction, but he stayed lying on his side.

“I never explained why,” Seonghwa said. He stared up at the ceiling, fingers tightly interlocked under the sheets. “I’d been crushing on this guy for awhile. I went to that party with the idea that I would finally ask him out. I saw him, alone, and I was about to jump at the chance… I was preparing my heart for it… and then you came up with your ‘What’s your favorite drink? Asking because I want to know what to get you on our first date.’”

Hongjoong busted out laughing, probably at Seonghwa’s impression of him.

“That was such a good line,” Hongjoong commented mid-laugh.

“It was not,” Seonghwa groaned.

“Aw, come on! It’s not sleazy. It’s playful. It’s cute. Give me a better line,” Hongjoong pressed, nudging his elbow back against him.

“No pick up line is a good line,” Seonghwa said, trying to sound exasperated, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“But I did my research and everything!” Hongjoong insisted. Seonghwa couldn’t stop a laugh, tickled at the thought of Hongjoong on a computer, searching up pick-up lines. What a dork. “Ah, wasted on you, though. I’d never been turned down so fast. It was like an arrow through the heart.”

The words were dramatic on purpose. Still, they sobered the smile on Seonghwa’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa apologized, again.

“I’m joking. It’s fine,” Hongjoong said, waving it off. “It all worked out, anyway.”

Seonghwa swallowed something bitter and didn’t reply, staring up at the ceiling. A quiet stillness settled over them like a blanket.

It did work out, Seonghwa thought, but it was hard being cast in the role of regret.

He contemplated rolling back on his side and trying to actually get some sleep, but Hongjoong moved first. Seonghwa tensed as Hongjoong rolled over, switching from one shoulder to the other, until he was facing Seonghwa. A gentle pressure pushed into Seonghwa’s cheek, and he realized he was being poked.

“You went quiet,” Hongjoong said, withdrawing his hand.

“… just thinking,” Seonghwa answered, not sure what else to say. It was altogether another beast, having Hongjoong lying beside him and facing his direction. Again, he was grateful for the surrounding darkness, even though the thought made him feel like the coward he was.

“I thought you said you were trying to be like Wooyoung. You can’t think for that,” Hongjoong spoke, quietly, but playfully, as if he was trying to keep the light banter going. As if he’d rather lie there and talk to Seonghwa rather than get the sleep they both knew they needed for tomorrow’s classes. As if he could sense that Seonghwa needed a distraction from his own melancholy thoughts.

The affection he held for Hongjoong bloomed brightly in that moment, Hongjoong’s words themselves initiating something reckless, something urgent and inescapable.

Be like Wooyoung.

“Do you ever wish things could have played out differently?” Seonghwa asked, the words pressing out of him in a breath that seemed too loud for the quiet atmosphere they’d built.

“When?” Hongjoong inquired. Seonghwa turned his head to finally look at him. The blond hair and deep brown eyes Seonghwa knew were shadowed in black, but he could still make out the outline of his face. With his heart in his throat, Seonghwa continued.

“The night we met,” Seonghwa clarified. He dug his intertwined fingers together harder. “If I would have told you that my favorite drink is a strawberry milkshake, where would you have taken me for one?”

Oh, it was hard to breathe.

The realization of what he brought into the open hit him like a truck in the quiet moment that followed. He probably looked terrified. Could Hongjoong even see his face enough to know how scared he was? Had his voice trembled when he asked? But my God, he’d done it.

He’d done it and the seconds kept ticking by and Hongjoong hadn’t moved a muscle, hadn’t said a thing, and Seonghwa felt like he was going to implode. What, exactly, had he done?

“Oh my God, being like Wooyoung is awful. Terrible. I don’t recommend it,” Seonghwa babbled, jerkily shaking his head. “Scratch everything that I said. I’m going to sleep.”

He hastily pulled the sheet over his face, needing some kind of barrier between Hongjoong and himself.

“Wha- Seonghwa,” he heard Hongjoong finally say. Seonghwa’s cheeks burned upon hearing his name.

“Asleep,” Seonghwa emphasized.

“You are not asleep,” Hongjoong insisted. There was a shift, and Seonghwa clenched his fingers in a death grip when Hongjoong attempted to pull the sheet off his head. The tug relented, but then came right back as Hongjoong tried to pull from a different angle. Seonghwa would not allow it, humiliation bleeding from every pore. There was a soft sigh, and Seonghwa’s eyes widened again, under the sheets, when he felt Hongjoong scoot closer. There was a gentle pressure on his forehead. It wasn’t until Hongjoong spoke again, and Seonghwa felt the pressure on his head moving, that he realized Hongjoong was resting his chin on his sheet-covered head. “… Maybe Flavor Forge Parlor? You like that place, don’t you?”

The grip he had on the sheets slackened.

“… I do,” Seonghwa whispered, desperately trying to keep it together. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for Hongjoong to come close like this, to… play along, like this? To actually answer?

“Do you want to go?” Hongjoong asked.

There was a sting at the back of Seonghwa’s eyes, a hope ablaze in his heart. Still...

“That’s not a good idea,” Seonghwa answered, his voice warbled.

“Why not?” He heard Hongjoong say.

“You said it yourself. You’re happy that we didn’t work out, because if we did and then it fell apart...” Seonghwa reminded him, trailing off uncertainly. There was a swish of air and the sheet was no longer hiding him. Seonghwa gasped, his hands scrambling for the sheet on instinct, but Hongjoong’s pull had it fluttering halfway down the bed. Hongjoong was now leaning over Seonghwa, propped up on his elbow, and Seonghwa felt ever so small, lying and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Do you want to go on a date? With me?” Hongjoong asked. His voice sounded so strong, so clear, so… eager to know the answer. The hope in Seonghwa ballooned.

“I just told you.. that’s not a good ide-”

“But do you want to?” Hongjoong interrupted. He reached, startling Seonghwa by taking his hand and wrapping it under his own. With a gentle tug, they were both sitting up, torsos twisted toward each other. “I want to. Take you on a date, that is.”

Relief took the form of wetness at the corners of his eyes. Seonghwa refused to cry, though.

“… still?” Seonghwa nearly squeaked. It was a little embarrassing, actually, but nothing was stronger than his need to keep looking at Hongjoong, to hear what he had to say.

“Still,” Hongjoong nodded, squeezing Seonghwa’s hands. A tiny laugh followed. “When I said I was happy that we didn’t work out, I was just… deflecting. Trying to make myself feel better about it; trying to make you more comfortable.” Hongjoong’s thumbs caressed Seonghwa’s hand and he sat there in awe. “I never stopped liking you. I actually like you way more now than I did when you were just a pretty face I was spouting off a pick-up line to.” It was Seonghwa’s turn to laugh, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to blink away the wetness in his eyes. He sucked in a breath when Hongjoong leaned in, delicately bringing their foreheads together. “Be Wooyoung one more time, and just say yes to a date with me?”

His heart so full he feared it would burst, Seonghwa stifled another laugh.

“Don’t tell me to be Wooyoung when I’m telling you I like you,” Seonghwa spoke shyly. Even if he couldn’t see well, he knew Hongjoong had scrunched up his face.

“Oh. You’re right. That’s really weird. Now I’m grossed out,” Hongjoong groused. Another laugh tumbled out from between his lips, before he summoned up enough courage to lean forward and press those lips against Hongjoong’s. It was a quick kiss, but sincere and adoring all the same.

“I want to go to Flavor Forge Parlor, on a date, with you,” Seonghwa assured. He heard Hongjoong exhale a somewhat shaky breath.

“Awesome,” Hongjoong replied, connecting their foreheads again. Seonghwa giggled, closing his eyes and enjoying the closeness. “… hey, see? That means my pickup line did work.”

“Mhm, right. It just took over a year.”

“Worth it. And I’ll take this response over you telling me to fuck off any day.”

“Oh my God. I’m sorry!!”