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Seonghwa doesn't usually regret his choice of choosing fashion over function when it comes to picking his outfits for dates, but tonight he finds himself doing just that.
The end of November has no right to be as cold as it always is, but Seonghwa hadn't expected to be kicked out of his date's car on the side of the road, either. His pea coat is warm enough for walking between a car and a restaurant or taking a little neighborhood stroll in a place busy enough to have coffee shops to pop into for a bit of warmth. His pea coat and the thin clothes underneath are not warm enough to brave the fifteen-minute walk from the bridge back to civilization. The sound of cars speeding by is loud, but at least it drowns out the sound of his teeth chattering and his angry exhalations.
He feels humiliated, even though deep down he knows that he shouldn't. But here he is, walking along Yanghwa-ro towards Hapjeong Station, shivering in the biting cold, with a dead phone and five more minutes of walking until he can finally get out of this frigid weather.
Seonghwa ignores the bite of the wind against his cheeks as he keeps moving. He can see the entrance to Hapjeong Station a little ways up and cheers internally at the thought of finally being indoors. He doesn't even care about getting his phone charged at this point—he'll take the subway home and spend the entire trip thinking long and hard about his taste in men as punishment.
When he reaches the station, though, he doesn't take the stairs down to the subway. Instead, he turns right on a little side street, walking past convenience stores and restaurants that could provide refuge from the cold. He keeps going because his body remembers before his mind catches up, and when Seonghwa realizes where he's heading, he laughs.
He's walking towards Hongjoong's apartment.
It's been months since he last came to Hongjoong's apartment alone, and for good reason. He doesn't have the right to just show up unannounced anymore, even though he knows Hongjoong would never refuse him as long as he was alone. It's this thought that keeps Seonghwa moving toward the apartment building he could still find in his sleep instead of turning back toward the main road and making his way home.
Hongjoong's apartment isn't a long walk from the station. Seonghwa is standing in front of his building in no time at all, hesitating before he punches in the door code that has never changed in all the time that Hongjoong has lived here. That hesitation only lasts for a moment before he's entering the code and walking through the front door.
This is stupid. For all he knows, Hongjoong might not even be home. But his feet carry him to the elevator nonetheless, and before he knows it, he’s standing in front of a familiar door, raising his hand to knock. He could stop here, exit the building, and hail a cab to take him home, but he doesn’t. His heart knows what he wants—or rather, who he wants—even if his brain wants to deny it.
Seonghwa can hear shuffling on the other side of the door. It takes ten seconds for Hongjoong to appear in front of him, looking rumpled and confused in the doorway as he tries to figure out who's standing outside of his apartment. His eyes widen when he realizes that Seonghwa is the person waiting for him, but his features immediately soften into the expression he wears when he knows that something needs to be handled delicately.
"Hey," Hongjoong says, stepping to the side to make a little bit of room in the entryway. "Come in."
Walking into Hongjoong's apartment and ridding himself of his coat and loafers is a familiar ritual. Hongjoong has disappeared into his kitchen, so Seonghwa sits on the couch. There's a drama paused on the television screen in the living room: it's one Seonghwa had recommended to him ages ago, so knowing that Hongjoong is actually watching it brings a smile to his face. He wonders if Hongjoong would've ever mentioned it.
"Were you just in the area?" Hongjoong asks as he walks into the living room carrying two mugs. He hands one to Seonghwa before sitting next to him on the couch. "It's a pretty cold day. I decided to just stay inside today because of the weather."
Seonghwa looks down at his mug of coffee—a nice beige color, which means that Hongjoong probably put milk and sugar in it the way that Seonghwa likes—instead of up at Hongjoong when he speaks. "I was on a date," he says flatly. "It didn't go well."
"Oh?" Hongjoong doesn't push more than that.
“He kicked me out of his car,” Seonghwa mumbles, picking at a loose thread in the couch with his free hand instead of looking at Hongjoong, because he knows what he says next is going to piss him off. “Because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”
Seonghwa can still describe the way Hongjoong gets angry, then immediately tries to hide it, down to how deep the furrow in his brow gets. Hongjoong’s breath hitches, and he shifts next to Seonghwa like he doesn’t know what to do with his body—if he should comfort first or immediately get up to rectify the problem. In this instance, there really is nothing he can do, not when Seonghwa's date is long gone and has likely blocked him by now.
“That’s fucked up,” Hongjoong says after several long seconds. Seonghwa knows that’s the nicest language he can manage right now, and it almost makes him smile. “Tell me that you understand that, Seonghwa.”
“I do,” Seonghwa says. “And he gave me a chance, you know? To change my mind. But he got even more angry when I refused again. He just stopped the car and waited for me to get out.”
“Where were you?” Hongjoong’s eyes are bright, fierce.
“Just off of Yanghwa Bridge.”
Hongjoong laughs, but the sound is hollow. He scrubs angrily at his face before he seems to remember himself and looks at Seonghwa again, really looking at him this time. “Did he—he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Seonghwa thinks of the way their hands had brushed at the dinner table and the way the other man had been undressing him with his eyes all evening. Perhaps he should have realized then. “No, he didn’t.”
Hongjoong exhales slowly. He doesn't speak for a few moments. "I'm glad you came here, then," he says softly.
"Sorry for just showing up," Seonghwa says, trying to ignore the cadence of Hongjoong's voice. He always speaks so softly when he wants to show that he cares, and that's not something that Seonghwa wants to think about right now. "I didn't mean to intrude. It's a Saturday night, so you might still have plans—"
"Seonghwa-yah," Hongjoong interrupts. The shift in his voice forces Seonghwa to look up at the other man before he can stop himself. "You're never intruding. I didn't have any plans tonight, anyway. I was having an exciting night, as you can see."
"Still," Seonghwa says. "I won't stay for much longer. I really just wanted to warm up a little bit…and maybe charge my phone."
"No, yeah, of course," Hongjoong says. He takes Seonghwa's phone and gets up from the couch to go plug it in. He falls quiet, and something about the silence feels different. Charged. "But you can stay the night if you want to. It's late, so."
"Hongjoong-ah, no," Seonghwa argues. "It won't be a long ride home once I finally get in the taxi. I'd really be intruding if I stayed the night."
“Seonghwa, please.” He turns at the desperate tinge in Hongjoong's voice to see the other man already staring at him. “I’d feel better if I knew you were okay and not at home alone wondering what you did wrong.” Seonghwa looks away. “But if you really don’t want to stay, then I understand.”
It's always been so easy to give in to Hongjoong. He's never asked for more than Seonghwa was willing to give, and he's always known exactly what Seonghwa needed. It's one of the reasons they worked so well together until the day they just stopped working and everything fell apart, but that's what makes Seonghwa really consider it. Hongjoong is right, too: he'd absolutely spend the night wondering if he'd missed any signals leading up to tonight that would've let Seonghwa know that the two of them were expecting different things from their date.
It's cold outside. His apartment is a thirty-minute taxi ride away. Above all that, though, is the fact that Seonghwa doesn't want to be alone tonight.
"Okay," he sighs. "Thank you, Hongjoong."
"You don't need to thank me," is all Hongjoong says in response. He comes around the couch to stand in front of Seonghwa. "I'll get you some pajamas, and we can watch the rest of this episode together." Seonghwa doesn't have any of his own clothing here anymore, but Hongjoong lends him an oversized t-shirt that fits Seonghwa better and a pair of sweatpants that are slightly too short for him to sleep in.
They spend the next few hours in Hongjoong's living room watching the drama that Seonghwa had recommended to him. They order a pizza and finish it off a little after midnight, then they pull out a blanket and get settled for another episode because neither of them is tired enough to call it a night yet.
It's equal parts comforting and devastating that he can fall into old habits so easily with Hongjoong. It would be easier if things had just stayed awkward after the breakup, but they've always had an unconventional relationship.
Seonghwa dozes off without realizing it, though, because he jerks awake to find himself curled up against Hongjoong's side, his head resting against the younger man's shoulder. The drama is paused again while Hongjoong scrolls on his phone.
"You ready to sleep?" Hongjoong asks once he realizes that Seonghwa has woken up.
"Sorry," Seonghwa mumbles, pulling away from Hongjoong despite how much he wants to stay close to him. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"Absolutely not," Hongjoong shoots the idea down immediately. "You can take the bed. This thing is already barely long enough for me to stretch out on it."
Seonghwa knows that's true, and he knows that Hongjoong's bed has always been big enough for the both of them to sleep comfortably in. He shouldn't suggest it, but now that Hongjoong has given him an inch, he wants to keep taking and taking.
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable, either," Seonghwa starts. He turns his head so that he doesn't have to see Hongjoong's expression in case the other man declines his next suggestion: "We could just share the bed."
Hongjoong is quiet for a few moments. "You'd be okay with that?"
Even in his own apartment, Hongjoong is still giving him a choice. He's still acquiescing to what Seonghwa wants, and it's so hard not to read into it.
"Yeah, I'd be okay with it," Seonghwa says.
Getting into bed with Hongjoong is easy, too, though his body aches to gravitate toward the other man. Seonghwa forces himself to keep his distance, focusing on shuffling underneath the covers toward the far end of the mattress instead. Hongjoong's bed is just as soft as he'd remembered it being, and the feeling of the comforter on top of him reminds him of late nights and early mornings spent wrapped around each other in this very bed.
Seonghwa turns his back toward Hongjoong and closes his eyes before the other man has even turned the lights off.
Hongjoong shuffles carefully, quietly into bed behind him. "Good night, Seonghwa," he murmurs.
Seonghwa doesn't respond—he doesn't trust himself to speak. Everything that wants to come out of his mouth is inappropriate and beyond the limits of what's acceptable for him to ask of Hongjoong. But he can't help but want it.
The two of them lay in silence for a while. Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong is still awake. Whenever the younger man finally falls asleep, he settles more deeply into the bed and exhales long and low, proof that his body has finally relaxed in unconsciousness. He hasn't done any of that yet.
The tension in Seonghwa's own body from holding himself still finally pushes him to act.
"Hongjoong-ah," Seonghwa starts hesitantly. He shouldn't ask for this. He shouldn't take advantage of Hongjoong's kindness more than he already is. But he's going to. "Can you hold me?"
There's a moment of tense silence between them before Seonghwa feels Hongjoong's hand tentatively rest on his shoulder. Just that point of contact makes Seonghwa's heart leap in his chest.
"Of course," Hongjoong says, like it's just that easy. "Come here."
They've always fit together perfectly, and now is no exception. Seonghwa lets himself be pulled back as Hongjoong moves forward to meet him in the middle, the younger man's arm sliding around his waist as their legs tangle together beneath the comforter. They relax into each other at the same time, muscle memory kicking in when Hongjoong tucks his face into the crook of Seonghwa's neck, and Seonghwa rests his hand on top of Hongjoong's own.
This moment is everything that Seonghwa has been missing for months and had foolishly gone looking for in someone else.
"Seonghwa-yah," Hongjoong murmurs, his lips pressing against the curve of Seonghwa's neck. "Can I tell you something?"
He nods.
Hongjoong doesn't say anything for a few seconds, then he sighs, burrowing further into the crook of Seonghwa's neck. "I'm glad you came over," he says. "I missed this. I missed you."
A strange combination of joy and sadness settles in the pit of Seonghwa's stomach. Those are the words he's wanted to hear Hongjoong say for months, and he wants them to mean more than they probably do. He's always wanted so much with Hongjoong. But if Hongjoong is willing to be honest—even if he isn't really saying what Seonghwa hopes that he is—then he can try to be, too.
"It kinda sucks that I had to go on a date with an asshole to have this again," Seonghwa sighs. Neither of them mentions what this is, but that's how they've always been. Talking around things until it's too late. "But I'm glad I didn't talk myself out of coming here."
"Don't go on any more dates," Hongjoong says, apropros of nothing, catching Seonghwa by surprise.
Seonghwa's heart stops. He shifts in Hongjoong's embrace despite the way the other man clings to him tighter so that he can't move, turning onto his back and forcing Hongjoong to curl up against his side instead. "What?"
He's always loved Hongjoong like this: faintly illuminated by the streetlight outside of his bedroom window, hair tousled and bare face softened by oncoming sleep. He's always been the most honest at night, too, underneath the protection of his covers and within the safety of Seonghwa's arms. Even in the darkness, Seonghwa can see everything that Hongjoong wants to say in his gaze, all of the things he's wanted to say since Seonghwa showed up on his doorstep earlier.
"I don't want you going on dates with assholes who don't treat you the way you deserve to be treated," Hongjoong says. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, a bad habit that Seonghwa had always tried to correct.
Worded differently, it would've sounded like a request from a concerned friend. But it hadn't been worded differently, and Hongjoong is always careful with his words.
He's not asking as a friend, and Seonghwa refuses to let him beat around the bush.
"You can't ask that of me," Seonghwa starts, "without a good reason."
Hongjoong curls his fingers into Seonghwa's borrowed shirt, but he doesn't look away. "I want it to be me," Hongjoong says. "Taking you out. Taking care of you." He pauses, purses his lips. "Trying again to do this the right way."
Seonghwa closes his eyes. He lets the words linger in the air. He already knows what his heart wants. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try again.
"I never stopped missing you," Seonghwa admits quietly. "Even when I was seeing other people, it never felt right. Not the way being with you does." He opens his eyes and finds Hongjoong still gazing up at him. "Maybe it's okay that he was an asshole. Tonight brought me back to you."
Hongjoong scowls. "He better hope that we never cross paths with each other," he says darkly. Seonghwa can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him at the younger man's conviction.
"He doesn't matter anymore," Seonghwa murmurs, one hand coming up to gently cup Hongjoong's cheek. His eyelids feel heavy now, and no matter how much he wants to stay up and enjoy finally being close to Hongjoong again, sleep is calling to him.
"Will you stay in the morning?" Hongjoong asks. "So that we can talk?"
"Yeah," Seonghwa says, because sometimes it can be that easy. "I'll stay."
"Good." Hongjoong brings the hand on his cheek to his mouth so that he can kiss Seonghwa's knuckles before settling down against his chest. The younger man looks comfortable, like he belongs there. Seonghwa thinks that Hongjoong really does. "I'll make you breakfast and then we'll talk about us. I promise." His voice is almost lost to the fabric of Seonghwa's borrowed shirt, but Seonghwa hears him loud and clear.
Now that the humiliation and frustration of being left stranded by his date has disappeared underneath Hongjoong's gentle care, Seonghwa feels oddly grateful. Maybe all he'd needed was an unstoppable outside force to push him toward what he'd really wanted.
Hongjoong is warm in his arms, a solid weight against his chest. And come morning, Seonghwa thinks that Hongjoong will be his to love again.