Chapter Text
Ahn Keonho wants a boyfriend.
Specifically, he wants a 175 cm tall boyfriend, with high cheekbones, dark brown hair, a long nose bridge, lopsided smile, and deep dark and droopy eyes (with long lashes too). It would also be really nice if said boyfriend had an oval shaped face with a full upper lip — Or! Or if he had this unreadable gaze so that Keonho could look at it and even, you know, dissect it, lingering and tracing over every raise of an eyebrow, every tug at the corner of his lips, and the slow rise and fall of his eyelids.
God, Keonho could only dream. He could do nothing but dream.
Well! It’s really technically because he’s a pussy (which is what Martin says) with no backbone (enter Juhoon).
But a bit also because Keonho thinks he might scare Eom Seonghyeon off.
“It’s like he’s in this bubble.”
“A bubble.” Martin deadpans.
“And if I come close to him, I’d pop it!” Keonho quips, then leans on the table, fingers gripping the edge. “And I’d pop it bad.”
“You’d pop it bad.”
“Baaaad bad.” Keonho repeats, ignoring Martin’s withering stare.
“Yep.” Juhoon slides in, dropping a plastic bag with food at the middle of the table, “Still no backbone.”
Keonho groans, throwing his head backward. “You guys don’t get it!” Keonho then leans towards the plastic bag with food, grabbing his meal and setting it in front of him. “I’d prefer Seonghyeon not to be popped by me.”
Martin was just about to facepalm when a glint crossed his eyes.
“But what if Seonghyeon wants to be popped?” Martin says pointedly, a semblance of a smirk on his lips, “And he wants you to pop him.”
Heat rises in Keonho’s cheeks as Juhoon and Martin erupt in laughter. Keonho does not want to even think about the sexual implication of what Martin just said. In fact, Keonho does not even want to think about the possibility of Eom Seonghyeon reciprocating his overbearing affection. Thus, in the spirit of being a freshly turned 20 year old, he decides to take the high road.
He throws a spoon at Martin’s face.
Soon, one spoon becomes two spoons and two forks with Martin hurling strings of profanities whilst poorly dodging each attack. Juhoon listlessly picked up each utensil from the floor, smiling and spectating.
“You’re being real mature, Keonho.” Martin sputters.
“You started it.”
“It’s not my fault you want to pop Eom Seonghyeon.”
“I did not say that.”
“You implied it.”
“Where in our conversation did you get that—“
“Sorry, is this a bad time?”
Keonho freezes. Their series of banters was disrupted by an all too familiar voice. Before Keonho could react, Eom Seonghyeon settles in the chair right beside him, carefully placing four new sets of utensils wrapped in tissue on the table.
Keonho gapes, the air trapped in his lungs, staring at Seonghyeon with both eyes bulged out until Martin kicks his shin from under the table.
“Not at all.” Juhoon says in response. He retrieves the remaining meals from the plastic bag, and distributes them to Seonghyeon and Martin.
“We forgot to mention Seonghyeon is joining us for lunch, Keonho.” Martin says as neutrally as possible.
“Why?” That comes out too fast.
“I— I mean, no problem.” Keonho spills out, making eye contact with Seonghyeon, who has already grimaced far too much for Keonho’s liking.
“Seriously, no problem, you’re nice to be around with— I mean, not that I’ve been around you that much but when you’re there, it’s nice.” Keonho catches himself again. “Not that I notice you a lot! I don’t notice you at all— “
“He gets it, Keonho.” Martin says.
“Sorry.” Keonho squeaks, and his adrenaline wears off enough to clear his vision and rest his gaze on Seonghyeon’s small bemused smile, the corner of his eyes upturning, his already high cheekbones raised even higher. Keonho’s heart does a flip. A big flip. Like what the Olympians do.
“You’re alright.” Seonghyeon says.
Keonho must have looked too giddy after because Martin kicks Keonho in the shin again and gives him a pointed look this time. Stop staring.
“Right, I’ll stop staring.” Keonho says out loud. Martin face palms.
Juhoon coughs. “Anyways, we’re just going to work on our project, Keonho. You can just tune us out.”
Keonho looks at Martin. Don’t mess this up.
Keonho then looks at Seonghyeon, whose expression has returned to being unreadable but patient, waiting.
“I can just leave.” Keonho offers quickly. He could feel another of Martin’s face palms coming.
The air becomes dead silent, looks of disappointment scrunched in the eyebrows of Juhoon’s and Martin’s faces.
“Why?” It’s Seonghyeon who asks. He tilts his head, angling it directly facing Keonho. A long beat. “You scared of popping me, Keonho-ssi?”
It’s the way he says it that sends Keonho into haywire. Seonghyeon says it softly, carefully as if Keonho were a fragile innocent thing, but Keonho does not miss the tug at the corner of Seonghyeon’s right lip, the slight descent of his eyelids, and the tilt of his left shoulder. For those reasons and those reasons alone, Keonho pales.
Fortunately for him, he’s at the age where suaveness levels are at its peak. Unfortunately for him, he’s a late bloomer.
Decidingly, Keonho turns his back on Seonghyeon and runs. And as Juhoon puts it, he ran like a big fucking idiot.
Keonho thinks there are worse ways to die. Like being hauled over by three weeks of back to back exams. Or being scolded by his professor right in front of the whole class for the fifth time. But Keonho can’t help but feel his soul leave a little whenever he catches Seonghyeon’s gaze in the hallway.
Before Keonho shakes his shoulders out again for the fifth time that week, James steps right in front of him.
“Hey James hyung— “
James raises his pointy finger in front of Keonho’s mouth. “It’s Sir James now.”
Keonho laughs, “Hey Sir James.”
James pulls out a file folder and scans through it. “Suae, 7 years old, Autism Spectrum Disorder and ADHD. Referred by DevPed last week.”
Keonho blinks. It takes James giving him a look to process it.
“Oh!” Keonho says in excitement, rushing beside James to read the file over his shoulder. “You found me a case already?”
“Yeah, you can say that.” James smacks the file on Keonho’s chest. “10 am tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
Keonho’s eyes light up. He wraps James in a hug. “Hyuuuuung you’re the bestttt.”
“Get off me.”
“You love me.”
“I’m a teacher.”
Later that night, Keonho flips through the file and highlights pertinent information in flourescent blue.
He then scribbles out his to-do list on a pad of paper, which starts with creating a Case History Form to forming a diagnostic flow chart. After two hours of blasting his way through his program’s assessment tools folder, Keonho sets his eyes on the picture of the girl in the file.
Neatly braided hair, donned by strawberry hair clips and bows. Small eyes, a toothless grin, and high cheekbones — high cheekbones? Keonho grimaces and forces the image of Seonghyeon out of his head.
According to Martin, if there’s anything else Keonho loves besides Seonghyeon, it’s kids. Uh, definitely not like that. Just in an older brotherly way.
Keonho has always been the youngest one. The youngest in the family. The youngest in his highschool friend group. The youngest in his college friend group. The youngest, even, in his class. Keonho doesn’t particularly mind being chided on or babied. He just sometimes wished he played the caring, doting part? He wants to look after people. He wants to show that he can look after people, which is precisely why he deliberately chose a program for a profession involving kids. Neurodivergent kids, in particular.
Maybe he could have chosen being a preschool teacher, but Keonho likes it better this way. Playing with kids in all shapes and forms, never knowing what to expect next. The thrill of it all riles him up every time from the moment he started observing clinical sessions in his second year to now preparing to lead one of his own in a day.
God, Keonho was really, really excited. The excitement was nearly enough to put Seonghyeon off his mind.
Seonghyeon. Keonho stops highlighting. He plants his arms on the desk and buries his face in them.
The memory of Seonghyeon’s teasing smile resurfaces.
Seonghyeon whom he’s had a crush on since the first year.
Seonghyeon who helped him navigate to his classroom on the first day.
Seonghyeon who offered Keonho his umbrella when he forgot it.
Seonghyeon who gave Keonho an antacid when he was sick.
Seonghyeon who is everything patient and kind and gentle.
Seonghyeon who is waiting, always waiting.
He waits at the bus stop on his ride home. He waits for his friends outside the classroom after every exam. He waits outside the teacher’s lounge, ready to take on another mundane errand.
And for some reason, Eom Seonghyeon is currently waiting on the sofa in the reception of the clinic.
The clinic Keonho will work at.
Seonghyeon’s dark brown hair is slicked back with a red headband, cheeks tinted rosy pink, teeth biting down on a rubber band as he carefully braids a little girl’s equally dark brown hair.
Keonho’s blood runs cold. His legs move before his brain processes it, and he stops directly in front of the secretary to the left of the visitor’s area in an angle where Seonghyeon will hopefully, hopefully not see him.
Keonho must have frozen, jaw rigid as the secretary looks at him tentatively up and down.
“Uh— uh” Keonho modulates his voice so Seonghyeon wouldn’t hear him. “I’m interning under James-hyung— I mean, uh, Teacher James.”
Keonho expects the secretary to walk inside the door on the wall through which the clinic area was in but instead, she shouts James’s name. Her voice rings throughout the visitor’s lounge, reaching Seonghyeon’s ears. Seonghyeon perks up, eyes scanning for the source until they meet Keonho’s.
Seonghyeon’s eyebrows raise a little, unbelieving, then his lips break into a small smile, the same smile he had given Keonho a few days ago. Before Seonghyeon could even raise his hand to wave, Keonho, as always, short-circuits and whips his head to the left, blush clearly visible on his face.
James then enters the lounge, looking ever like the professional he is. Light blue scrubs, neatly trimmed nails, and smoothed down blond hair. He sees Keonho first, expression neutral. James then looks at his clipboard on his hand while gesturing Keonho to come closer with two flicks of two fingers.
“Hi James hyung.” His eyes glance at Seonghyeon on the side.
“Sir James.” James corrects, then looks up from his clipboard. His eyebrows scrunch, studying Keonho. “Why do you look so nervous?”
“I’m not.” He is. His hands are clammy, shoulders bunched inward. A lousy smile lay seemingly permanent on his face as his gaze flickers between James and Seonghyeon.
James catches that and looks to the direction of Keonho’s vision.
Seonghyeon is already standing from where he’s seated, hands firm on the little girl’s head in front of him. He’s wearing an awkward smile, a lopsided one. The little girl with him has her head bent down. She’s kicking the air with her feet and somehow simultaneously playing with a rubber band on her hand.
“Seonghyeonie!” It’s James who says it. He approaches Seonghyeon, and Keonho is forced to move, self-conscious of each step.
James greets Seonghyeon in a hug, which stiffens Keonho. Keonho wasn’t aware they were so close. He doesn’t recall a single interaction they’ve had back in school. Even when James was still a student (which was less than a year ago).
James bends down and greets the girl, as well. When the girl looks up, two realizations dawn upon Keonho.
(1) The girl is Seonghyeon’s little sister, and (2) the girl looks the same as the girl in the picture in Keonho’s file. Visible cheekbones, small eyes, strawberry hair clips atop double french braided dark brown hair. For the second time, Keonho’s blood runs cold.
Seonghyeon’s sister is Keonho’s patient. Keonho will be Seonghyeon’s sister’s therapist.
“This is Keonho, the student clinician who will work with Suae the next few weeks.” James snaps Keonho out of his trance.
“Hi Keonho-ssi.” Seonghyeon looks directly at him, another one of his bemused smiles playing at his lips. A bit of his brow is cocked upward, playing, teasing.
James picks up on the tone. “You two know each other?”
Keonho forces himself to speak up. “Y— yeah, we have a few classes together.” His right hand smooths down his scrub suit.
James squints his eyes at them, almost comically. “You guys aren’t dating, right?”
“No!” Keonho says it too fast, the heat rising in his cheeks.
“Good.” James says neutrally, ignoring the fidgeting Keonho. He looks pointedly at Seonghyeon. “You two better not think of dating within the next six weeks.”
“Gotcha.” Seonghyeon says coolly, eyeing Keonho.
Keonho forces his gaze on Suae. She’s returned to fumbling with the rubber band.
“Anyways, let’s talk details.” James reads off his clipboard. “As per Keonho’s program, he’s required one hour with Suae per week for the next six weeks. First session will cover case history. Next two sessions will cover assessment. The last three, treatment.” James reads another page. “Keonho will lead all sessions, but I will be supervising. Is that clear?”
Seonghyeon nods.
“I take it that you’re Suae’s primary caregiver?” James asks.
Seonghyeon nods again. Keonho feels like he’s going to die.
“Okay. Yay.” It’s funny how James says that with a straight face. James then opens the door to a hallway with three rooms on each side. The hallway ends with a door opening to a play area with candy colored mats and mini-slides and ball pits. “Keonho, you can take Seonghyeon to the second door on the left for case history taking. I’ll play with Suae in the play room while she waits.”
Keonho pales. “You won’t watch the case history, James hyung?”
“Nope.” James gestures everyone in. “You’ll be fine.” To add insult to injury, James says, “It’ll just be you and Seonghyeon.”
Seonghyeon and Keonho sit across each other on kid-sized chairs inside a small dimly lit green-colored room. Pictures of kids holding up their artworks and wearing different halloween costumes are hanged up on the walls.
Keonho’s laptop rests atop a kid-sized multicolored table on his side. Keonho can feel the heavy ticking of his watch as he scans through the questionnaire on the screen.
He slowly looks at Seonghyeon, who is patiently waiting as always. The pink flush still rests high on his cheeks, eyelashes long and heavy. Keonho catches Seonghyeon rubbing his two hands together. Keonho wonders if Seonghyeon is nervous too.
It’s still Seonghyeon who speaks up first. “Let’s hold hands.”
Keonho blinks. “What?”
“You’re nervous, Keonho-ssi.” Seonghyeon says plainly. “You might run away again.”
Memory of that day resurfaces in Keonho’s mind, the way he turned on his heels and sped out of the cafeteria. “I— I won’t.” Keonho splutters, cheeks reddening.
“Hold it anyway.” Seonghyeon puts out his hand. The pink flush on Seonghyeon’s own cheeks seems to glisten more.
Keonho stares at the hand. He is reminded of why he is there. An air of professionalism rises inside him, and he firmly says, “I don’t hold hands with my patient’s caregivers, Seonghyeon-ssi.”
“Indulge me, Keonho.”
The lack of honorifics raises a surge in Keonho. His reaction is immediate. Forget being professional. Not even a second later, Keonho’s left fingers curl on Seonghyeon’s. It’s awkward, but the weight on Keonho’s shoulders lift a little.
“So obedient, Keonho-ssi.” Seonghyeon laughs out.
“Shut up.” Air catches on Keonho’s throat. “I mean— I didn’t mean to say that. I just get so nervous around you. I mean, not around you, specifically. I just get so nervous.”
“I can tell.” Seonghyeon squeezes his hand. “You can start now.”
Right. Keonho clears his throat. He’s supposed to do his job. Keonho’s right hand scrolls through the questionnaire. He starts with the preliminary demographic questions, eyes fixated on the screen, tone nearly robotic. Seonghyeon responds every time. He doesn’t question the clamminess of Keonho’s fingers nor does he comment on the slight shift and shake of Keonho’s frame. Keonho notices that, and his already beating heart only thuds harder, like a puppy surging repeatedly towards a cage.
Keonho reaches the sixth question. “What brings you here today?” He winces at the awkwardness of the word choice.
Seonghyeon doesn’t seem affected. “Suae is…” His voice trails off, eyes looking afar. “She struggles with telling stories. Whenever she comes home from school, I ask her what happened and she just says something about making good choices or eating food, if that makes sense.” Seonghyeon scratches the inside corner of his eye. “I’m just worried she wouldn’t tell me if she’s being bullied in school.”
Keonho thinks of the girl silent in front of Seonghyeon earlier. Even when James greets her, she does nothing more than look as if James was foreign to her. (Technically, he is. He’s Chinese).
“Seems like she struggles to express herself.” Keonho inputs. He hopes he found the right words.
“Is it bad?” Seonghyeon’s grip on his hand seems tighter. “I was a shy kid too. I didn’t really talk to anyone, but I still told my mom if I had a bad day. Or if someone was bothering me. But Suae… Suae just ignores everyone, and I’m so scared because what if she just never talks to anyone, not even me and I wouldn’t know if she needs comfort or if…” Seonghyeon straightens, realizing himself. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine! It’s fine.” Keonho says hurriedly. He takes a brief moment to study Seonghyeon. His expression remains unreadable but Keonho notices how Seonghyeon’s other hand rubs his trousers, the way his frame tauts in place as if a single push would result in him falling flat on the ground like a statue. Seonghyeon isn’t nervous, Keonho realizes, tightening his grip on his hand.
Seonghyeon’s scared.
He’s scared for his sister. Keonho recalls Seonghyeon’s meticulous placement of the braids on her hair. The way his eyes focused as his teeth bit tightly on the hair band. The way his hands sit firmly atop her head, as if in fear she would run off. In every way, Seonghyeon is an older brother. Not just any older brother. An older brother to a neurodivergent kid. No wonder he’s so attentive, so patient and kind and gentle.
“Keonho, you’re staring.” Seonghyeon says, his earlier uneasiness gone, stifling a grin.
“Ah! Sorry. I was just…” Keonho lets go of Seonghyeon’s hand (and immediately misses the warmth) in embarrassment, then repositions his laptop to his lap, “I was just thinking about how good of a brother you are.”
It comes out quick, like it always does when it comes to Seonghyeon. Seonghyeon’s pink cheeks glow brighter.
“You flatter me.”
“It’s true.”
The genuineness seems to throw Seonghyeon off for a second before he slowly leans over and touches Keonho’s hand. Another invitation.
“Hold my hand, please?” Silent, pleading.
“Okay.” This time, Keonho doesn’t hesitate.
The rest of the session goes by smoothly. Keonho’s tone and words are no longer staunch and scripted. He makes eye contact with Seonghyeon. He laughs with Seonghyeon, no longer conscious of his own facial expressions.
Keonho learns Seonghyeon and his sister has a nanny. Keonho also learns that Seonghyeon’s parents are always overseas, working. Seonghyeon shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but Keonho can see the downcast in his eyes. Keonho makes the move to squeeze his hand.
Keonho then learns that Suae does talk often, just not in a conventional conversational way. She says things like “Good choices” whenever Seonghyeon scolds her. She also often says, “Redred,” and “Greengreen” lyrics from some popular K-pop boy group song, whenever she’s excited. Keonho also learns that Suae parallel plays, which by definition means, plays alongside, not with, other kids. Keonho makes a mental note of that for later.
Keonho must have forgotten the time because James, together with Suae on his left arm, barges in without knocking. His eyes immediately lands on Keonho and Seonghyeon’s intertwined hands, and without moment’s hesitation, James grabs a rolled piece of paper from nowhere and hits the back of Keonho’s head.
“Ow! Hyung!”
“No flirting with the brother.”
Suae catches that and starts giggling uncontrollably. “Kissing, kissing, kissing” she repeats. Seonghyeon detaches his hand from Keonho’s, stands, and retrieves Suae from James’s arm. Suae right away affectionately nudges her hair on Seonghyeon’s cheek, to which Keonho coos.
“Did you have fun today with James oppa, Suae?” Seonghyeon asks, using one hand to sweep the hair strands dangling in front of Suae’s face.
Suae initially offers no response, then she erupts in giggles, shouting, “Kissing, kissing, brother kissing.”
Seonghyeon laughs and presses a kiss on her hair. Keonho’s heart flutters at how endearing the interaction is.
“Suae did a good job today.” James says. He magically has a clipboard already in his hands. “She didn’t run away when another kid joined her on the trampoline.”
It was a mundane interaction, but Seonghyeon lights up anyway. “That means she’s set to work with Keonho-ssi next week.”
“She has no choice, does she.” James deadpans. Blank stare and all.
Keonho wonders how this guy even graduated.
Luckily, Seonghyeon just grins and shakes his head.
“You know.” He glances briefly at Keonho. “Keonho-ssi did a good job today too.”
Warmth creeps up Keonho’s neck.
“Really?” James says dramatically, eyes wide and fingers flat against his mouth. His blank stare returns not even a second later. “Of course he did. You’re visibly glowing like a pregnant woman.”
“James hyung!” Keonho tiny-shouts, head jerking hastily towards a confused Suae.
Keonho really wonders how this guy graduated.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” James opens the door and gestures his arm toward the exit. “You can go now.”
Seonghyeon laughs it off. “Say goodbye, Suae.”
Suae doesn’t. Her eyes land on the chin of Keonho and she mutters, “Kissing, kissing, kissing” under her breath all whilst tangling the rubber band in her hand. Seonghyeon chooses not to push and instead says, “Bye James hyung.”
He then looks at Keonho, a tiny smirk. “Bye Keonho-ssi.” His tone is sing-song. “See you around.”
Right after Seonghyeon and Suae exit and the door is completely closed (Keonho checked), James whips out the rulebook out of thin air.
“Where did you get that—“
“Rule no. 23. At minimum, the clinician will terminate the clinician-client relationship before initiating a dating, romantic, or sexual— “ Keonho visibly cringes at James’s emphasis of ‘sexual’, “relationship with a client. Failure to do so will automatically lead to termination of the clinician’s license or in this case, the clinician’s supervisor’s license.”
“Hyung, we’re not seeing each other.” Keonho whines.
“I’d believe that if you guys weren’t eye-fucking.”
James says that without a break it makes Keonho gape. “Hyung, what— what the hell are you talking about?”
“Whatever it is you two have, stop.”
“We don’t have anything.”
“Maybe not now, but I will catch you sooner or later.”
Keonho pinches his nose bridge. His hyung is so weird. “Hyung, I swear we barely talked before this day.”
“Uh-huh.” James is still incredulous but he decides not to push the argument further. “Anyways, next week. Same time. Don’t be late.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me about the case… about what Seonghyeon said to me?”
“Fine.” James sets the rule book down. “What goal will your assessment procedures next week be targeting?”
“Storytelling.” Keonho says it, quick.
James doesn’t respond. He’s waiting for an explanation.
“Suae doesn’t tell Seonghyeon stories about school.” Keonho attempts, breathing in to steady himself. “Seonghyeon’s scared that Suae won’t tell him if she’s being bullied. Also, storytelling is functional to her age. She’d be able to enjoy time with family more and even make friends.”
“Good.” is all James says. He turns on his heel to leave.
“I’ll prepare story cards next week so that I can elicit narratives.” Keonho adds. “Seonghyeon mentions she likes looking at Power Ranger stories.”
“Okay.” James says from the door. “You’re good to go, Keonho.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Keonho giddily walks up to James and hugs him tightly, the gesture surprising James.
“Hyung, you are so cool.” Keonho says in between the hug.
“You smell like your boyfriend.”
Keonho groans. “He is not my boyfriend.”
Keonho leaves the clinic that day with only good memories. Seonghyeon’s steady smile that lasted the whole session, the warmth of his fingers enclosed in his. Keonho hopes not to forget Seonghyeon’s lingering kiss on his sister’s hair, his expression unabashed, absolutely enamored. God, Keonho thinks, he’s beautiful.
As Keonho walks down the sidewalk away from the clinic, he sees a figure in the distance, two figures faced towards the road. Keonho puts his glasses on, and his vision clears to see none other than Seonghyeon and Suae. Seonghyeon’s left hand has his phone, his gaze focused on the screen, eyebrows creasing in frustration. Meanwhile, his right hand is holding onto Suae’s. Keonho registers the sweat beads trailing down her face as she grips tightly onto her brother.
The heat must be setting her off. Keonho grabs the umbrella from his sling bag and rushes toward them.
Keonho calls out, but Seonghyeon doesn’t hear until the umbrella’s shadow is cast over him.
“Ah, hey Keonho-ssi.” Keonho’s eyes land on Seonghyeon’s pink flush on his cheeks. “Thanks for the shade.”
“What are you still doing here?”
“Just waiting for an Uber.”
Suae peers curiously at Keonho from under him, then immediately returns her gaze to the rubber band on her hand. Keonho notices the time on her wristwatch.
“You’ve been out here for 15 minutes already.”
“Yeah,” Seonghyeon tips his head down, embarrassed, “Didn’t think it was hard to get an Uber out here.” Seonghyeon coughs. “You can go, Keonho-ssi. It’ll come anytime soon.”
“I’ll wait.” Keonho offers. Seonghyeon glances at him. “I’ll wait with you.” Keonho clears his throat, his face reddening the nth time that day. “If— if that’s okay with you.”
Seonghyeon looks back at that road. “You do that a lot.”
“Do what a lot?”
“You say something cute, then regret it immediately after.”
“No, I don’t.”
Seonghyeon doesn’t reply. Suae is muttering, “Kissing, kissing” below them.
A notification rings from Seonghyeon’s phone. Seonghyeon perks up. “A driver’s coming.” He squeezes Suae’s hand. But not even a few minutes later, Seonghyeon visibly slouches. He mutters a curse under his breath.
“He changed his mind?” Keonho asks.
“Yep.” Seonghyeon sighs.
“Do you live near xxxx xxxxxx?”
Seonghyeon eyes widen a bit. “Yeah. Why?”
“We can take the train.” Keonho restrains the excitement surging in him. “It’s on my way. I can lead you there.”
“Is it safe?”
Keonho laughs, but then stops. He puts two and two together.
A nanny. Absent parents. Seonghyeon trying to hail an Uber.
Seonghyeon and his sister have never commuted in public transportation their whole lives.
“It’s safe!” Keonho says, a bit too loudly. “It’s a bit crowded, but it’s nothing you can’t manage.” He looks at Suae. “But it’s okay if you don’t want. Suae might get overstimulated by the noise.”
Seonghyeon brings out her headphones from her bag. “She’ll be fine.”
“Okay!” Keonho feels his lips breaking into a brazen smile. He’s nearly jumping on his two feet like a puppy feeling the stretch of freedom for the first time. “Okay, I’ll show you the way.”
A few minutes later, the three are at the station right in front of the ticket machine.
“Usually, I just tap this card on the gate right over there.” Keonho gestures toward the gate leading to the tracks while holding up a blue card. “But since you’re new here, we can buy the physical tickets for now.”
Seonghyeon nods and cautiously scans the surroundings, commuters of different ages and professions trudging quickly in every direction. His lips are formed into a thin line, fingers digging deeply onto Suae’s shoulders.
Keonho decides not to comment and carries on with his explanation.
Later on, Seonghyeon holds his ticket in his hand, posture stiff, frame taut and unshaking in front of the electronic gate.
“Just insert the ticket in the slot.” Keonho says, cautious, gentle.
“How about Suae?” Seonghyeon finds Suae directly in front of Keonho, his eyes shaky, unfocused.
“You go in first.” Keonho raises the paper on his hand. “I’ll put in Suae’s ticket.”
“Okay.” Seonghyeon faces the machine, breathes, finds the slot, and inserts. The gate opens, and Seonghyeon’s shoulders jolt in surprise. He looks back at Keonho smiling, the corners of his eyes upturned in delight. “It worked.”
Seonghyeon realizes he needs to go through, so he does so in big steps, then faces backward immediately to watch Suae.
Keonho inserts Suae’s ticket. When the gate opens, Seonghyeon reaches towards her with both his arms. Suae doesn’t hesitate to run, wrapping her older brother in an embrace, and Seonghyeon lifts her up, eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss once again on Suae’s hair.
Keonho grins at the sight. He completely forgets he needs to pass through until he hears a cough from behind him. Keonho forces himself forward, presses the card on the machine, and walks quickly, an embarrassed smile on his face as he bows apologetically to the passengers who came behind him.
“You were staring again.” Seonghyeon teases.
Keonho denies it. “So not.”
Seonghyeon rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. And Keonho wonders when exactly that day they started to have this playful banter, something relaxed, casual, as if they were friends far longer than they are.
Friends. Keonho’s heart beats a little louder. Are they now friends?
The train on the track arrives a second before Keonho entertains the thought. When the doors open, Keonho holds the small of Seonghyeon’s back and guides him and Suae inside until Keonho’s face to face with Seonghyeon.
Seonghyeon’s eyes are still scanning his surroundings, less tense but still alert, carrying Suae, who is still concentrated on her rubber band.
Keonho’s amused. Seonghyeon looks like a baby who was just born into the world.
When the train runs, Seonghyeon nearly topples sideways. Keonho settles his hands on Seonghyeon’s waist and positions him upright.
“Gotcha.”
Seonghyeon wrinkles his nose. “Corny.”
Keonho raises his chin and speaks, for once, not missing a beat. “I help you, and you call me corny.”
“I could have helped myself.”
“No ‘thank you, Keonho-ssi,’ ‘I’m so grateful you’re here, Keonho-ssi’ ‘You’re my knight in shining armor, Keonho-ssi?”
“You have a praise kink, Keonho?”
Keonho stiffens and places his two hands on the ear cups of Suae’s headphones. “You and James hyung run your mouths in front of kids, huh?”
Seonghyeon laughs. There’s that eye smile again. “You can say— “
The train door opens. The passengers of the next stop come swarming inside the train. One passenger hits Seonghyeon’s back and pushes him toward the wall, against Keonho.
When all passengers have finally entered, Keonho realizes the position they’re in.
Seonghyeon’s face a few inches from his, the warmth of their breaths mixing. Their chests would have met if not for Suae right in the middle, resting her head over Seonghyeon’s left shoulder.
Keonho sees the pink blush more clearly on Seonghyeon’s cheeks, the way the color seems to seamlessly melt into his honey brown skin. Keonho’s eyes gaze lower until it lands on Seonghyeon’s lips. Pink lips, a darker shade from his cheeks, full, moist, soft, kissable, really, Keonho breathes, Really kissable.
Keongi could close the space if Seonghyeon wanted it too.
“Staring again.” Seonghyeon breathes out, nearly a whisper.
“Do you mind if I do?” Keonho has no idea where that comes from.
“No.”
“No?”
Another stop. Seonghyeon tilts to the side again, and Keonho’s hands are back in his waist.
“You’re unbelievable.” Seonghyeon’s head jerks to his right, avoiding Keonho’s gaze entirely. “An hour ago, you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”
Keonho doesn’t reply to that. Instead, he says, “Your waist is tiny.” It spills out, but Keonho doesn’t duck his head or blush this time. He’s grinning, wide, wide enough that it seems to startle Seonghyeon off, his upper lip quivering a little. In amusement or in embarrassment or both? Keonho isn’t too sure.
“Unbelievable.” Seonghyeon repeats. Keonho catches another eye roll.
The ride passes along in a somehow comfortable silence. When passengers exit enough to empty the space surrounding them, Keonho disconnects his hands from Seonghyeon’s waist, and Seonghyeon sets Suae back on the floor. Keonho wishes she was immune to the surroundings as she is.
The train arrives at the sixth stop. “We’re here.” Keonho says simply, holding the small of Seonghyeon’s back, guiding him and Suae out of the car.
Once they exit the station and find the gate of the subdivision, Seonghyeon’s shoulder loosens. He halts on his tracks, exhales, bending his knees, then rubs his chest with light circular motions.
“Suae’s braver than you.” Keonho quips. His voice softens, head tilting to check on Seonghyeon’s downturned face. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Seonghyeon says, looking up at Keonho. He lightly pushes Keonho’s shoulder. “Stop looking after me.”
Keonho huffs. “I’m not just gonna stand here.”
Seonghyeon doesn’t reply. He straightens himself, breathing deeply, then latches onto Suae’s hand. “You can go now, Keonho.” He says softly, “I know my way to my house.”
Keonho still notices the wary shuffle of Seonghyeon’s feet. “I have time. I’ll go with you.”
Seonghyeon protests, but Keonho’s already walking inside, skipping even. Suae watches and giggles.
A few minutes later, they stop in front of a large black gate. Almost immediately, the small door on the gate buzzes and opens, as if on cue. Keonho finds a CCTV planted on the tree nearby, watching them.
Suae rushes inside, not sparing Keonho a glance. It’s now just Keonho and Seonghyeon outside the house, face to face, the space between them wider than normal.
“Thanks.” Seonghyeon speaks first, hands in his pockets. He looks up from under his eyelashes. “Thanks for today.”
Keonho is grinning, eyes lighting up, the initial nervousness from an hour ago completely gone. “It’s nothing.”
“I can ask somebody to bring you to your house.” Seonghyeon offers. “You can take a trike— “
Keongo shakes his two hands. “I can just walk. It’s fine.”
Seonghyeon squints his eyes at him. “I feel like I still need to repay you.”
“You don’t have to— “
Seonghyeon steps, one, two, three, and before Keonho knows it, Seonghyeon’s holding his arm, pulling him closer, planting a kiss, a firm one, a long one on Keonho’s cheek.
Keonho freezes, shuts down completely, air standing still until the wind of Seonghyeon’s voice hits Keonho’s ear. “See you around, Keonho.”
Seonghyeon lets go and walks toward the gate. He’s looking over his shoulder, smirking, then grinning. Like a winner.
Keonho forces the words to come out. “B— bye! Bye Seonghyeonnie! I mean, Seonghyeon-ssi.” He is reddening. The nerves are back completely. The suaveness he’s had from the train is completely gone. His hands are clammy again. His frame taut. He wants to die.
Seonghyeon laughs and waves. He gently slowly closes the door and the last thing Keonho sees is Seonghyeon’s eye-smile, the outer corners of the eyes upturned, cheekbones raised high.
“Fuck.” Keonho curses. He rummages his hand through his hair.
Memories of today pile up in his brain, threatening to explode.
When the door slams shut, Keonho crouches on the ground.
Keonho is completely, utterly fucked.