Archive of Our Own

Doing laundry is the best way to end the day.

The laundromat is blissfully empty. There’s no crowds or rowdy kids playing between the aisles. That’s exactly why he’s here at 2am on a Tuesday night doing laundry. 

Not because he’s been putting this chore off for days.

And absolutely not because the cheeto dust on his sleeves and stains made it embarrassingly obvious that he’s been wearing the same clothes for the past four days straight.

Despite all the complaints he’s been grumbling under his breath, it is a bit therapeutic. The music in the background becomes white noise as he’s taking the clothes out from the bag, into the machine and repeating the process till it’s all done. For the next forty-five minutes, it’ll be just him and music drifting from the speaker mounted overhead.

Peace and quiet.

Until the front door lets out a long creak.

Considering it’s a 24 hour laundromat, it’s not a surprise for people to come in at random hours.

Except it is surprising when the stranger goes to the machine two down from Leo’s and tugs off his shirt to throw into the washing machine.

And that should’ve been a universal sign to mind his own business but Leo stares. 

Hard.

Not because the guy is ridiculously attractive, though that’s part of it, but for legitimate reasons. 

First, there’s a nasty bruise on his face. Second, who casually strips their shirt off in the middle of a public laundromat. And third, who the hell shows up at 2am to wash a single shirt?

A murderer. That’s who.

The man is probably washing off evidence because he doesn’t just toss the shirt in. The man grabs the bottle of bleach and pours in way too much for a single shirt. 

Curiosity may have killed the cat but right now it’s about to get him killed because his gaze flicks back to the stranger every few seconds. 

Maybe he’s stared too long or maybe he’s stared too obviously because the guy suddenly tilts his head and glances over.

“I won the fight.”

Leo blinks and his brain short-circuits because congratulations, random half-naked stranger on winning whatever fight left you bruised and bleaching your shirt at 2am in the morning. I definitely asked. 

Silence is the best choice in this situation except an awkward “good job?” with a voice crack in the middle slips from his lips.

The stranger’s grin widens, “Thanks.” 

That should be the end of the first and last conversation they ever have. Leo slides a few coins into the washing machine and takes a seat, ready to not make any more small talk, but just like public decency, personal space was a foreign concept to this man as he plops down right beside Leo.

Which, surprisingly, isn’t even the worst part.

The worst part is that he commits one of the eight deadly sins: manspreading.

The stranger stretches his legs out wide enough that his knee bumps against Leo’s. Once. Accident. Twice. Still an accident. Then it happens a third time… and a fourth… and keeps happening that it makes Leo want to throttle this stranger except in this life or death situation, Leo chooses survival.

He clasps his hands tightly in the middle of his lap, stares straight ahead at his spinning clothes, and practices deep breathing exercises because he swears to god if this man taps his knee once again…

The tapping stops and Leo isn’t sure if that’s better or worse because the stranger leans forward, elbows propped on his thigh, chin resting in his palm. He’s turned toward Leo, making it obvious he’s staring.

Everything about this man, about this situation, adds up to something very dangerous… or something very, very weird but it’s such a shame, an absolute pity, that Leo’s machine chooses that exact moment to ring loudly and click off with a ding.

If not for that, Leo definitely would’ve sat there trying to think about whatever the hell was happening. Instead, he’s forced to move because he’s a respectful adult who knows that he shouldn’t hog machines.

He gets up from his seat and ever so casually speedwalks to the washing machine. He yanks the door open and starts grabbing his clothes out. They’re heavy, soaking wet, and dripping everywhere but screw it – today Leo is Mother Earth's strongest soldier. He’ll just hang them on his balcony and let the sunrise (still hours away) do the rest.

Behind him, the plastic chair creaks followed by the sound of footsteps. 

Actually, maybe he won’t dry his clothes. 

Maybe he’ll just hide in his apartment and never come out again. It’s a win-win situation. He survives and he doesn’t need to wear clean clothes again.

“Hey–”

Leo doesn’t wait for the rest. He yanks the soggy mess of clothes into his bag and bolts for the door in full-blown panic speed-walk.

Goodbye to wearing clean clothes again. It was nice while it lasted.

Except, like most functioning adults, Leo does need clean clothes even if he’s seriously considering becoming a shut-in for the rest of his life. Specifically, clean clothes that are properly washed and dried.

Yesterday’s plan had been simple: wash everything, transfer it to the dryer, go home, and never return to this laundromat for at least a week or two. That plan did not account for running into a murderer but Leo really, really needs clean clothes. Much to his dismay.

Besides, what are the chances of running into the same guy again?

Extremely high, apparently.

The bell above the door, which had never worked properly in all the times Leo’s been here, chooses this exact moment to jingle loudly.

But it’s fine.

This time, Leo was smart about it.

Before he left, he made a point of telling his roommate Jiahao exactly when he was going and when he should be back – complete with instructions to call the police if he didn’t return because he might run into a murderer.

And the look Jiahao gave him… god, the fact that he even had to clarify that when he said his ass is going to get murdered, he didn’t mean he was going to go out for a one night stand. 

He might suffer from the chronic condition known as single since birth but he wasn’t that desperate.

Not even if that guy sends him a disarmingly charming smile.

Leo forces a casual nod and beelines straight for the machine closest to the door. Purely for fresh air, obviously. Not because it’s two steps from the exit in case he needs to bolt.

Besides, there’s nothing to worry about.

This time the stranger isn’t just washing a single shirt. There’s something blue tumbling around in there with it. Huge difference. One shirt screams “murderer washing off evidence” but two articles of clothing? Perfectly normal behavior. Lots of people go to the laundromat in the middle of the night just to wash two things.

But, of course, Leo can never catch a break.

The guy doesn’t sit down even after his machine is on. Both of them are done loading yet neither of them has moved. Leo just wants him to take a damn seat so he can casually pick a seat on the complete opposite side of the laundromat.

Yet the stranger doesn’t move. 

He just stands there, arms loosely crossed over his chest in front of the machine

Fine, Leo isn’t going to stand awkwardly for the entire cycle. He’s not a coward. He drops into the chair directly in front of his machine and immediately pulls out his phone to scroll like a very busy, very occupied person.

“Tired?”

He’s so occupied with looking busy that he doesn’t even hear the stranger take a seat beside him. Leo has already flinched and so obviously too that he can’t even pretend he didn’t hear him. 

“Uh huh…”

He should’ve just left it at that. Maybe a polite “and you?” at most. Instead…

“Why did you clean just one shirt yesterday?”

The words slip out before Leo can stop them and he wants to crawl inside the nearest dryer and never come out. 

“Junseo hyung hates it when I come home with blood on my clothes,” he says with a shrug. “So I clean up after I fight. If he doesn’t see anything, he can’t complain.”

Junseo hyung.

He knows a Junseo – Jiahao’s boyfriend. There’s no way sweet, responsible Junseo would ever be roommates with a guy who casually washes blood off his clothes in the middle of the night.

So, like any other sensible person would, he brushes past it. 

“But… you’ve got a cut on your face. He’s going to notice that.”

The guy pauses. His smile falters, then drops completely. His shoulders slumps a little as he lets out a soft defeated sound.

“Aw, man…”

And, what the hell, those two little words echo in Leo’s mind like a scratched record.

It’s so unexpectedly soft and boyish. The kind of sound a guy makes when he knows he’s been caught being dumb. The fact that he’s washing his clothes in a dingy laundromat just so his roommate won’t yell at him… it’s almost kinda cute.

“Oh….” Leo breathes, words slipping out before he can stop it.

He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. He should not be softening for this man no matter how much he currently looks like a kicked puppy. He still doesn’t know – and definitely doesn’t want to know – why he keeps getting into fights in the first place.

Still, he kinda sorta wants to pat him on the shoulder and tell him everything’ll be fine when his washing machine timer rings. 

Leo stands up quickly, grateful for the excuse to move. He’s already embarrassed himself enough for one night. The rest of the night should go something like this: transfer his clothes into the dryer, sit back down and stare at his phone for the rest of the cycle.

Except that’s not what he does.

Instead of minding his own business, Leo heads out the door. The convenience store next door is still open and he’s in the mood for something to snack on while he waits for the dryer.

Except while he’s walking through the aisles, his hand “just so happens” to grab a pack of alcohol wipes. Then a small box of bandaids. Then a tube of ointment because, well, it’s magically poofed into his hands.

And in the snack aisle (where he originally came for) he picks up a twin popsicle. The laundromat is warm and he’s… a little hot.

It’s probably overkill but it’s too late to put anything back now that he’s standing in front of the cashier and too much work to go back inside to ask for a refund as he’s walking back to the laundromat. At least the kicked-puppy expression on the stranger’s face disappears the second Leo awkwardly holds everything out to him.

“Here,” he mutters. “For your face and… whatever.”

The guy blinks in surprise. His gaze drops from Leo’s flushed face to the plastic bag, the back up again. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face – way too pretty, too dangerous for Leo’s weak heart. 

“Oh, thank you.”

He grabs the popsicle first, placing the rest of the items down besides him and rips the package open. Without hesitation, he splits it neatly in half and holds one out to Leo.

Leo takes it, and the good deed for the day bites him in the ass because the guy keeps staring at him, clearly waiting for something. 

“I’m Leo…” the second his name slips out, every stranger-danger alarm in his head starts blaring because he did not just give his actual name to a random guy who openly admits to getting into fights. Buying popsicles for one sad looking guy doesn’t make them close. “...nardo Da Vinci.”

“What?” The guy blinks. “Your name’s Leonardo Da Vinci now?”

Now?

Wait, what?

What did he say his name was last time? Leonardo DiCaprio? Leon Kennedy? There’s no way in hell Leo gave him his actual name.

Except the stranger is looking at him with a grin and Leo has no choice but to commit.

“Yeah,” he says, forcing a straight face. “That’s my name. Leonardo Da Vinci.”

“Pfft–”

It’s painfully clear he doesn’t believe that but the least he could do was play along considering Leo just brought him medical supplies and a popsicle.

“What’s your name?” he mutters, desperate to move on.

The stranger leans back in his chair, still laughing. “I’m Sangwon,” he says as he looks at Leo expectedly like the name should mean something.

And maybe it should’ve ring some alarm bells or police sirens but the only thing that actually rings is the alarm for Sangwon’s dryer.

Sangwon stands up slowly, stretching his arms high overhead with a low groan. The movement pulls his shirt up just enough to reveal a glimpse of his waist. Leo immediately looks away, cheek burning.

As if he hadn’t already seen a lot more the other night.

Sangwon grabs his jacket and shirt from the dryer and the things Leo brought for him.

“Thanks again, Leonardo Da Vinci,” he grins as he waves goodbye with his free hand in the air.

Then he’s gone, the door creaking loudly behind him as he leaves.

And may he stay gone for the rest of Leo’s life. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like Sangwon will be gone from Leo’s life anytime soon.

Because Leo runs into him again.

“Leonardo Da Vinci,” Sangwon says the moment their eyes meet, a smile spreading across his face.

It takes everything in Leo not to bury his face in his hands and groan out loud in mortification. He doesn’t run into his friends this often, yet in the same dingy laundromat, different day, different hour, Sangwon’s here.

It feels like the universe is punishing him.

Or maybe it thinks it’s doing him a favor – but thanks but no thanks. No amount of third-wheeling Jiahao and Junseo’s cute date nights is going to make Leo suddenly develop a crush on some guy who’s standing shirtless again in the laundromat with a cut on his face. 

He has standards. 

They’re not high but he has standards.

“Not happy to see me, Leonardo?”

“No. What makes you think that?” Leo grunts, dropping his laundry bag onto the floor and starts tossing his clothes inside. Everything’s all fine and dandy until he hears footsteps coming closer towards him. 

Leo keeps his head down even when a pair of scuffed boots appear in his peripheral vision, stopping just a little too close. There are many steps on doing laundry correctly, after all. He doesn’t have time for small talk – or any talking at all.

But he can feel Sangwon staring at him, practically burning a hole into the side of his head. On top of that, Sangwon is humming some off-key tune under his breath that’s slowly grating on Leo’s last nerve.

“What?” Leo finally mutters.

“I need help putting the bandaid on,” Sangwon says, ever so casually.

Leo’s hand freezes mid-motion, sock still clutched in his hand, as he looks up. His eyes drop to the pack of bandaids and alcohol wipes Sangwon’s holding.

There are plenty of good, reasonable responses he could give right now: there’s a mirror right over there.just do it yourself.

But it looks like the puppy learned new tricks because Leo crumbles instantly when Sangwon looks at him with sad puppy eyes.

“Give me a sec,” Leo mutters as he shoves the rest of his clothes into the machine and slams the door shut.

Sangwon nods, looking awfully pleased with him, and takes a seat first. Leo sits down in the chair one seat away from him and Sangwon laughs at him. 

“I don’t know if you can help put on the bandaid if you’re that far away from me,” Sangwon snorts and he scoots closer into the chair right beside him.

“I can,” Leo frowns as he grabs the pack of alcohol wipes and bandaids from Sangwon’s hand.

Sangwon laughs harder as he casually drapes his arm along the back of Leo’s chair, bringing him unnecessarily close to feel the heat radiating off of him 

Up close like this, the details are impossible to ignore. Sangwon has really long lashes, unfairly pretty eyes that literally sparkles and a faint rosy blush blooming across his cheek.

“You’re staring,” Sangwon murmurs softly.

“Because I’m trying to access the cut,” Leo mutters, ears burning hot. He tears open the alcohol wipe and gently dabs at the small wound on Sangwon’s face, hyper-aware of every inch between them.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he barely holds back a laugh. “Right. Of course.”

Leo tries to focus but it’s useless. Every sense feels heightened. The faint scent of Sangwon’s cologne wraps around him. He catches the soft hitch in Sangwon’s breath every time the wipe touches skin and the way Sangwon’s trembling hand tightens on the edge of the chair, knuckle grazing softly at his back. 

“Almost done…” Leo murmurs, mostly to fill the heavy silence. Anything to drown out the sound of his own too-loud heartbeat and Sangwon’s quiet breathing.

Sangwon doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, like he’s giving Leo better access. It helps. It also doesn’t, because he really doesn’t need to be this close, like they’re about to ki–

“Okay, done.”

“Thank you,” Sangwon says softly.

“No problem,” Leo nods as he immediately gets up. He crumples the wrapper in his fist as he heads for the trash bin. “Let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

“To the convenience store,” Leo says, already pushing through the laundromat door. “You deserve a lollipop for not crying while I cleaned up your cut.”

“A lollipop? What am I, five?” Sangwon laughs. He yanks his now-dry shirt from the dryer and pulls it over his head before following Leo out of the laundromat and across the street to the convenience store.

To no one’s surprise, Leo ends up grabbing a basket instead of just a lollipop.

It starts with Sangwon sneaking not-so-subtle glances at the instant noodle shelf. Then at the drinks section. Then at the chips. Each time, his eyes flick back to Leo with a knowing smile.

Leo sighs, long and defeated, and starts tossing things into the basket anyways: a cup of spicy noodles, two bottles of cold drinks, a bag of honey butter chips and a cherry lollipop. 

It’s… surprisingly nice – pleasant, even – walking side by side down the aisle together. They talk about random things from the price increase of late night snacks to which instant noodle flavor is superior. 

Sangwon’s starting to feel less like a stray dog Leo accidentally fed once and more like an actual person, like someone who doesn’t make Leo want to look for another laundromat.

Because what Leo needs to look for is another convenience store because he can never, ever, ever step foot in this one again.

“Thanks, Leonardo Da Vinci,” Sangwon says cheerfully as Leo taps his card on the machine right in front of the cashier.

The cashier’s judgemental stare will haunt Leo forever in his dreams.

“My name is actually Leo.”

“I know.”

What the fuck.

The “what the fuck” isn’t because Sangwon is casually tugging his shirt off again right in front of him – Leo’s seen that happen enough times that it doesn’t affect him anymore. No. The real “what the fuck” is the casual way Sangwon just admitted he’s known Leo’s real name this entire time and has been happily playing along.

Sangwon tosses the shirt into his machine and closes the lid, shooting him a grin.

“Junseo hyung introduced me to you and Jiahao the other night you two came over to the bar I work at.”

Oh.

Well, that explains a lot. No wonder Sangwon’s been acting like they already knew each other with the way he has no problem taking off his shirt in front of him or the way he kept invading his personal space. Even so, Leo has absolutely zero recollection of that night. He can’t suddenly be like okay, yeah, this is fine just because they apparently met once.

“Guess you don’t remember,” Sangwon says softly. 

Leo nods, “Yeah, I don’t.”

“Let me remind you then.”

Before Leo could respond Sangwon waltzes on over and leans against the machine beside him with a confident smile. 

“Your hands look big,” he murmurs. “Let’s compare hands.”

Leo blinks, caught completely off guard because he thought the interaction began with hi, hello but apparently not.

Still, Leo holds his hand out but Sangwon doesn’t just press their hands together. No, he slowly laces their fingers together. 

“Your hand is big,” Sangwon says casually as he holds Leo’s hand in his.

“Uh… um… thanks?”

Sangwon’s thumb traces slow circles across his skin, making it impossible for Leo to form a coherent thought and realization slowly dawns.

The reason he doesn’t remember meeting Sangwon was probably because he was tipsy that night – if not outright drunk. There’s no way sober Leo would’ve survived this kind of interaction. Or worse… he did something incredibly dumb at the bar and his brain had kindly blacked it out to protect him from a lifetime of 3am spiraling and regret.

And right now, his brain should be doing the exact same thing.

Leo wants to blink and fast-forward to tomorrow morning with this entire interaction wiped clean from this memory. His face grows hot with every second, blush crawling down his neck and across his cheeks the longer Sangwon looks at him.

And Sangwon is not helping.

He shifts in even closer. “Wow, you get red so easily… so cu–”

Achoo!

The loud sneeze rips through the silence like mercy from the heavens. Thank god for the dusty, lint-filled laundromat air – he won’t ever complain about it again. His shoulders instantly slump with relief as the tension disappears. 

He quickly pulls his hand back, ignoring the lingering warmth on his skin, and clears his throat. “You sneezed because you’re not wearing your jacket.”

“Uh huh…” Sangwon replies, his body trembling with a shiver.

“Go wear it,” Leo says, tilting his head towards the jacket sitting on top of the washing machine.

“Mhm…”

For someone who’s supposedly freezing, Sangwon makes zero effort to actually grab it. 

“Do you want me to grab–”

Sangwon reaches out and gently tugs at the zipper of Leo’s jacket, giving it a slow tug downwards.

“I’m cold,” Sangwon says, far too innocent for someone who is clearly enjoying this.

Leo frowns, “Because you’re not wearing your jacket, Sangwon.”

But Sangwon doesn’t listen. Instead, he tugs Leo’s zipper down another inch, his knuckles brushing against Leo’s chest in a slow, teasing stroke.

There’s probably something wrong with Sangwon’s own jacket. That’s the only logical explanation as to why he’s so determined to steal Leo’s instead of walking five steps to grab his.

Sangwon keeps going, pulling the zipper all the way down with agonizing slowness until Leo’s jacket hangs completely open. The cool air rushes against his chest but it does nothing to cool him down.

“Please?” Sangwon asks, tilting his head with that sweet smile that says he already knows he’s going to get exactly what he wants.

The rational part of him wants to say no, to tell Sangwon to put on his own jacket but he realizes he really is a weak, weak man because he shrugs the jacket off and holds it out to him.

Sangwon’s smile blooms into something brighter. “Thanks,” he says, taking the jacket and slipping it on. 

It’s a little big on him, the sleeves slightly too long, but it looks good on him. When Sangwon zips it all the way up and nuzzles into the collar with a quiet, contented hum, Leo feels his heart do something stupid in his chest.

He’s cute, unfairly so. Especially for someone who just coaxed his jacket off of him.

Sangwon glances up at him, scrunching his nose with that playful little smile, and Leo knows right then and there:

There’s no way he’s forgetting about this anytime soon.

“I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Leo adds without missing a beat as Sangwon drops into the chair beside him.

Sangwon buries his face in his hands, letting out a loud, exhausted groan. He parts his fingers just enough to peek over at Leo and groans again – longer, more dramatic and pitiful this time.

Leo stares back.

Oh.

Sangwon wants comforting and comforting he does get – just not the kind he’s looking for because he makes a face when Leo reaches over and gives his shoulder an awkward pat, accompanied by a “there, there.” 

Sangwon narrows his eyes, “I’m going to give you a minute to think of a better way to comfort me.”

The silence stretches out, broken by the continued, half-hearted patting of Leo’s hand on Sangwon’s shoulder. At the last second, Leo lets out a weak mumble” you’ll win the next one?”

Sangwon levels him with a long, unimpressed stare. He leans back into the chair with a quiet, pained wince. He looks wrecked tonight – far worse than Leo has ever seen him. His clothes are soaked through. A fresh bruise is on his cheek while his lower lip is split, a small streak of blood dried at the corner. 

“You’ll win the next time…” Sangwon repeats, more to himself. “You make it sound like I enjoy fighting.”

To be fair, it’s not like it’s wrong for Leo to think that.

Every single time he’s bumped into Sangwon in this dingy laundromat, the guy has shown up bloodied and bruised. He’s seen Sangwon more injured than not – if he doesn’t count the one time they met at the bar when Sangwon was (presumably) fine.

Sangwon pushes himself up with a tired huff. He grabs the hem of his soaked shirt and tugs but the wet fabric clings stubbornly to him. After a few yanks, he lets out a defeated sigh and turns to face Leo.

“Take it off for me.”

In no circumstances does Leo want to do that, especially not in a laundromat, but Sangwon looks more exhausted than usual.

“Okay,” Leo mutters as he stands up and steps closer. “Put your arms up.”

Sangwon obeys without complaint, lifting his arms as best as he can. Even that small motion drags a quiet wince across his face. Leo reaches out and starts peeling the soaked shirt off of him.

When it slides off, there’s far more bruises than Leo was prepared for. Dark patches of purple and red scatter across Sangwon’s ribs and sides, older bruises fading into sickly yellows and greens. The sight makes Leo’s chest twist.

“It’s nothing…” Sangwon murmurs before his gaze lifts and locks onto Leo’s eyes.

He doesn’t need to be asked

Leo tugs off his hoodie and pulls it carefully over Sangwon’s head. Sangwon immediately burrows into it with a sigh, shoulders curling inward as he presses his face into the collar with a sigh.

But he’s still not satisfied.

He hooks a finger around Leo’s index finger and tugs him closer. Leo has to brace both hands on the washing machine to keep his balance as Sangwon leans in fully, burying his face against Leo’s shoulder with another exhausted sigh.

Soft, damp strands of hair tickle Leo’s cheek. His fingers idly play with Leo’s, soft and absentminded which would’ve made his chest flutter…

If Sangwon didn’t smell like absolute shit.

“Did someone pour beer on you?” Leo asks, wrinkling his nose at the stench.

“Uh huh…” Sangwon mumbles, voice muffled against Leo’s shoulder. “Some guy got mad when I stepped in to stop him from harassing the customers. He dumped his drink on me before security finally dragged him out.”

Leo sighs, one hand rubbing slow circles on Sangwon’s back. “Be careful…You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt one of these days.”

“Yeah…” Sangwon mumbles, barely coherent.

“You’re not listening, are you…”

“Uh huh…”

Leo pulls back, ignoring the small whine Sangwon lets out in protest. He reaches up and gently adjusts the collar of the hoodie, fingers brushing against the warm skin of Sangwon’s neck as he straightens it.

“Even if you don’t listen to me,” Leo says quietly, “Junseo hyung’s definitely going to say something.”

Sangwon makes a tired sound of agreement, eyes half-closed. “He always does… but I’d rather get lectured than let shit like that slide.” he pauses, voice dropping softer. “It’s not that bad, right?”

Leo’s gaze lingers on his face. “You’ve got a split lip. It’s pretty swollen.” 

Sangwon makes a face, wincing when the movement tugs at the fresh cut. “Oh my god… what should I do?”

“Stop getting into fights?” Leo suggests, raising an eyebrow.

Sangwon frowns at him. “I work at a bar. Maybe tell those drunk assholes to stop starting fights.”

Leo sighs and reaches over to awkwardly pat Sangwon on the shoulder a couple of times. “There, there… getting lectured by Junseo hyung can’t be that bad.”

At least, based on his previous experiences, it usually wasn’t.

Sangwon just stares at him, thoroughly unimpressed. “This isn’t making me feel any better. You suck at comforting people, Leonardo Da Vinci…”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel better,” Leo mutters. “And are you never going to stop bringing up that name?”

“Maybe…” Sangwon’s tired eyes light up as he leans closer. “Maybe if you help me come up with a good excuse for why I have a split lip other than ‘I got into a fight,’ I’ll stop.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Call it strategic negotiation,” Sangwon corrects smoothly.

Leo sighs, eyebrows furrowed as he racks his brain. His dignity is at stake here. He can’t risk Sangwon casually dropping “Leonardo Da Vinci” in front of Jiahao or Junseo hyung at the bar. 

“Fine,” Leo says reluctantly. “You walked into the door”

Sangwon whines immediately, “Leooooonardo…”

“Okay, okay, what about kissing?”

“Kissing?” Sangwon repeats incredulously, blinking at him. 

And Leo could’ve survived the embarrassment from the way Sangwon says it – if only Sangwon hadn’t immediately dropped his gaze to Leo’s lips.

“You got a split lip from kissing someone?” Sangwon asks, shoulders trembling as he fights back laughter. “Or you kissed someone so bad you gave them a split lip?”

Leo’s face burns. He lowers his gaze to the floor, wishing it would swallow him whole “None of your business.”

“I think it’s cute you’re a bad kisser.” Sangwon teases, clearly enjoying every second of Leo’s humiliation. 

“I’m not a bad kisser.”

“But you gave me this split lip?”

“I didn’t kiss you!” Leo splutters.

“You did,” Sangwon continues, unbothered as Leo bats weakly at his shoulder. “How else did I end up with a split lip, hm?”

“You… are enjoying this way too much,” Leo mutters, completely done with the whole conversation. He’s about to pull away but Sangwon grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

He frowns with a half-hearted tug. He’s supposed to be doing laundry, not let Sangwon torture him like this in the middle of a 24-hour laundromat. But as Sangwon hums happily and starts swinging their hands like they're on a date, all fight drains out of him.

He doesn’t complain, can’t even.

This was entirely his own fault. Suggesting kissing, of all things. What the hell was he thinking.

(Answer: he wasn’t thinking at all.)

At this point, it’s no longer a coincidence. Leo has accepted his fate: every time he steps into this laundromat, Sangwon is already there.

This time, however, Leo is genuinely surprised.

Not because Sangwon is pantless (thank god), but because he’s doing actual normal loads of laundry and there’s no injuries this time.

Leo stands in the doorway for a second, laundry bag still dangling from his hand, and has the sudden urge to clap his hands like a proud parent.

Sangwon looks up and his whole face lights up the second their eyes meet, breaking into a bright smile.

“Hi, Leo.”

“Hey,” Leo replies, setting his bag down with a soft thud. “I see you don’t have any injuries today. That’s new.”

Sangwon’s smile widens, bright and a little smug. “Are you proud of me?”

“Yeah, very proud of you,” Leo snorts. “Want a reward for not getting into any fights?”

And Leo knows he’s shot himself in the foot the second Sangwon’s eyes light up.

“Yes.”

Leo’s stomach drops. “Just kidd–”

“No take backs,” Sangwon says instantly as he waltzes over. “I want my reward.”

“I didn’t think you’d take it literally.” Leo mutters, feeling his face heat up under Sangwon’s expectant gaze.

“Too late,” Sangwon replies with a grin. “Besides, positive reinforcement would keep me from getting into fights too, right? You want me to stay uninjured, don’t you?”

Leo opens his mouth, then closes it again. No one’s brain functions properly at one in the morning.

Sangwon leans back against the machine, completely blocking Leo from finishing his laundry.

Leo tries to reach past him for a shirt, but Sangwon shifts at the last second – barely an inch, just enough to force Leo to have to brush up against him if he wants to do laundry.

“Sangwon.”

“Yes, Leo?” Sangwon answers, all fake innocence as he tilts his head.

Leo exhales through his nose. “I need to finish loading my clothes.”

“You can do that after you give me my reward,” Sangwon says sweetly, refusing to budge an inch from his spot. “I’ve been so good tonight. No bruises, no blood. I even wore a shirt.”

“You should be wearing a shirt in public places.” Leo mutters. 

“Tomato, tomahto,” Sangwon waves his hand in the air dismissively before gently placing his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “If you’re struggling to think of a reward to give me, I’ll help you.”

“I’m not struggling to think of a reward.” Leo protests.

But it’s like he’s talking to thin air because Sangwon continues, undeterred.

“You know, Junseo hyung was surprised to find out that we kissed,” he says causally. “He was even more surprised that you kissed me so… passionately that you gave me a split lip.”

“We did not kiss,” Leo says immediately, face burning.

“So I think as a reward,” Sangwon says, smiling like he’s already won, “You should give me a proper kiss to make up for last time. One that doesn’t leave me with a split lip.”

“You–” Leo starts but the words die in his throat. His brain completely short-circuits at the way Sangwon is looking at him. Sangwon’s gaze drops shamelessly to Leo’s lips, lingering there, before slowly drifting back up to his eyes.

“Don’t you think the next time Junseo hyung asks about us, I can say you’re actually not that bad of a kisser?” Sangwon continues, tilting his head innocently.

“I think the next time he asks about us,” Leo says through gritted teeth, “you can tell the truth, that I was being a good friend by making up an excuse for your injury so he doesn’t lecture you for getting into another fight.”

“Friend?” Sangwon blinks. “You’ve seen me shirtless.”

“Not by choice.”

“We’ve kissed.”

“We did not,” Leo hisses, face burning hotter with every word. 

“Not properly.”

Leo makes a strangled, mortified noise in the back of his throat. He knew it. Sangwon is a murderer. From the very first night he laid eyes on him, he knew Sangwon was going to be the death of him.

“Fine,” Leo mutters. “I’ll kiss you.”

The shift is almost comical. The same infuriating menace who’d been shamelessly tormenting him for a kiss is now blushing furiously, ears bright red.

“Okay, yeah, I’m ready,” Sangwon mumbles, voice small and shy. He closes his eyes and tilts his face up, waiting.

His heart slams against his chest as he leans in slowly. He stops just short of Sangwon’s mouth, so close he can feel the warm, shaky puffs of breath against his lower lip. Sangwon’s lashes flutter, brows furrowed, his lower lip trembling slightly.

“You’re so red, Sangwon.” Leo whispers, unable to help himself.

“Shut up,” he mutters, cheeks burning darker.

And Leo… stays right where he is because Sangwon is so cute, trying so hard to look annoyed while his cheeks stay a pretty shade of red.

A full minute drags by. Sangwon cracks one eye open, scrunching his nose in betrayal. “I take it back,” he grumbles. “I don’t want it anymore.”

Leo laughs softly, warm and fond. Before Sangwon can pull away, Leo closes the distance and kisses him.

Just a quick peck, something to shut Sangwon up but Sangwon’s probably going to complain so he tilts his head and kisses him properly, deeper this time.

(Excuse, excuses.)

When they finally part, both of them are breathing a little harder.

“Not a bad kisser, right?” Leo whispers, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“No, you’re still bad,” he teases, leaning in to steal a kiss. “Terrible, actually. You definitely need more practice.”

He nips at Leo’s lower lip before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“...but maybe in a more romantic place next time.”

Leo laughs, “is that your way of asking to hang out outside of a laundromat.”

“I was thinking more of a date…” Sangwon grins. “Maybe an art museum where you can tell me all about the paintings you’ve drawn, Leonardo Da Vinci.”

“Please stop talking,” Leo groans.

“Well, you know what to do,” Sangwon grins before tilting his chin expectedly, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Leo doesn’t even hesitate this time. He pulls Sangwon in by the front of his shirt and kisses him again. When he pulls back, Sangwon looks satisfyingly dazed.

“Okay, move,” Leo says, gently patting his hip to nudge him aside. “I need to finish my laundry. I have to have clean clothes ready for our date.”

“Fine, fine… Leonardo Da–”