Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seonghwa wakes again with the late morning sun, and he finds himself thinking that this might be the most idiotic thing he’s ever done.

He doesn’t get involved with clients. Of course, being involved with his previous clients would have been a concern of national security, but honestly, he doesn’t feel any better about his current situation.

Except, that’s a lie. He’s never met anyone like Hongjoong. There’s a reason he’s completely and entirely smitten.

That doesn’t mean it’s not an incredibly fucking stupid idea.

Seonghwa’s entire job revolves around keeping Hongjoong safe. And sure, he doesn’t feel that his ability to do so is entirely compromised… but there will come a time when he must choose to lay his attentions on Hongjoong as his lover or as his protection, and to him, it feels like an unfair choice. Not for him, but for Hongjoong.

Hongjoong deserves someone who can give him every ounce of their attention… not someone whose focus will be split between him and a pervasive habit of hypervigilance. Seonghwa has spent a lifetime checking corners twice, glancing at doorways, assessing the integrity of paltry security systems in seconds flat. He wants to allow his focus to linger on other things… on the perfect shape of Hongjoong’s lips, the elegant slope of his nose, the way it scrunches up when he’s laughing, his smile . He wants to be able to focus on making him smile. He wants to be the reason his eyes light up and crinkle at the corners as he lets his tongue sit sideways between his flawless teeth in that way of his.

But every moment, his focus is drawn to something else. A noise, a too-sudden movement beyond the window—they are alone, in private , and even now he cannot help the way he is in a near-constant state of threat-assessment. It’s maddening.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath, lets it out. He sits up against the headboard, watching Hongjoong where he’s still asleep next to him. After waking from a nightmare in the early morning hours, he’d managed to nod off again, eventually drifting out of Seonghwa’s arms to sprawl across his own pillow. The lines and curves of his face are sleep-soft and peaceful, now. There is no fear or worry or panic marring his brow or the bridge of his nose. He seems content, breathing softly through his mouth, his chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence that Seonghwa can find comfort in.

There’s something about the way the rays of the late-morning sun fall over him, illuminating Hongjoong's skin. The light plays against his caramel hair, catches in the flyaways and makes them glow, haloing his face, golden and ethereal.

Hongjoong is beautiful .

People have spent his entire life telling Seonghwa he’s handsome, and he isn’t sure he even knows what that really means. A pretty face? He’s always found it hard to express himself openly, holding back when he feels the urge to laugh or smile. So often his face gets caught up in some conflicted emotion and he ends up looking pained more than anything else. He doesn’t think that’s an attractive feature.

But Hongjoong… Hongjoong doesn’t hold anything back. His face is a canvas upon which he paints his every emotion. He feels joy so palpably, so outwardly, that it’s infectious.

Back when Seonghwa was a greenhorn in the military, he was sent out to aid Yeosu in the wake of a terrible storm which had caused a citywide blackout. He remembers vividly standing on the outskirts of town in the ruined power grid. It had taken them hours to clear out the debris, find the damage, repair the lines… but when it was all said and done, he had been the one to throw the switch. He had watched as the city sprang back to life, hundreds upon thousands upon millions of lights surging through the darkness along the coast. Thousands of people brought instant relief and comfort.

That was making Hongjoong smile: watching the coastline brighten and shine like a hundred million stars twinkling against the black of night.

When he lets his focus drift back in, he sees Hongjoong’s eyes are open. He’s watching almost cautiously, most likely trying to read his expression, as far away as it is.

“You’re thinkin’ kinda loud up there.” Hongjoong mumbles, giving him a look.

“Sorry.”

“This isn’t the part where you claim this was a mistake and storm off, right?” There’s sarcasm in it, but it doesn’t quite cover the real fear creeping into his tone.

Seonghwa gives a fond shake of his head. “No. I don’t think that does either of us any favors. What’s done is done.”

“Thank fuckin’ god.” Hongjoong says with a relieved sigh. “I could really do without the angst and the pining. I’ve got enough stress as it is.”

“I’d never dream of adding to it. I’m meant to be your solace.” Seonghwa replies solemnly, overdramatic, and leans in to kiss him.

It’s different now that it’s not a race against his own morals, his own doubts. It’s slow and languid and sweet. There’s no going back, now. They’ve passed a point of no return, and all he can do is live with the choice he made. He doesn’t know if he made the wrong one… if he’ll end up regretting it when his feelings get in the way of his job. He wishes he could split himself in two, into the lover and the protector, but he knows it is impossible. For now, all he can do is move forward.

Seonghwa thinks that even if he cannot be in multiple places at once, he can give his all, and that will be enough. It has to be.

***

They decide to keep their relationship a secret—obviously—because Hongjoong is terrified it will get Seonghwa fired. He’s probably right about that. On paper, from the outside… it doesn’t look good. Whether people assume Hongjoong took some sort of advantage being his employer, by extension, or if they feel that their age difference means that Seonghwa is the one taking advantage… it isn’t worth the scrutiny. Not right now.

Things seem to die down, for a while. Hongjoong treads carefully, so carefully that it breaks Seonghwa’s heart a little. He doesn’t push for interviews or anything to keep his name and his music out there. He only asks—begs, really—for Eden to organize a fan meeting. He wants it to be a small one, with slots going to members of his fancafe who enter a lottery, and only after Seonghwa has scoured their social media and vetted them.

They keep it to fifty people, and Seonghwa takes his time researching every single candidate before giving the okay. They agree to take precautions such as ID checks at the door, but Hongjoong draws the line at a no-touching rule.

“Other agencies have started implementing them for some groups. It wouldn’t be unheard of.” Eden reasons, but Hongjoong just isn’t having it.

“You can’t tell them they’re not allowed to touch me. I don’t mind holding people’s hands. It’ll be fine. Seonghwa will be with me.”

Seonghwa is glad Hongjoong has so much faith in him, but really, he cannot account for everything.

The event goes smoothly. No one is rowdy, no one has ill intentions. Only the invitees are made aware of the location and are told to keep it under wraps so no protestors or anti-fans show up. It’s just Hongjoong and a group of fans who all love him to the moon and back.

It’s what he deserves.

Seonghwa stands directly behind him as Hongjoong greets everyone, seated at a long long table which is already piled up with gifts by the time they’re halfway through. He’s had everything on his head from flower crowns to small pirate hats and a variety of animal ears. Right now he dons fluffy white cat-like ears and a floral circlet of pinks and blues. The ears had come with little paw gloves, but he had taken them off when a fan wanted to hold his hand. Hongjoong gladly laces his fingers with his fans, even compares hand sizes quite a bit—they’re almost always smaller, even compared to some of the petite women who come through the line. Seonghwa finds it cute.

There’s one foreign fan who comes up and proudly displays a little pin on her blouse. It’s in the shape of a shield and says ‘Hongjoong Protection Squad’. Hongjoong laughs delightedly and mentions how he heard about it through twitter. The fan seems flustered that he reads their posts and fumbles a little passing him a small box, opening it with trembling hands.

It’s another shield, shaped differently, and it’s larger. It reads ‘Hongjoong Protection Squad President’.

“It’s for your bodyguard.” The fan says, glancing up toward him somewhat bashfully.

Hongjoong’s face lights up and he stands, turning to him with a huge smile. “Seonghwa-hyung! You should wear it!”

Seonghwa acquiesces and stands patiently while Hongjoong fishes a hand into his jacket and pins it above his pocket, like a police badge. His hand lingers for just a moment under the fabric, palm resting over his heart for a beat before he pulls away and smooths down his lapels.

“This is your new uniform.” He teases before he turns back to the fan and sits, making sure to spend a little extra time with her since he’s spent quite a bit of it not even looking in her direction.

Seonghwa has a hard time reining in his smile as they chat, mostly about him. The fan comments about them being friendly with each other, which she says is nice because most idols seem to resent their bodyguards.

“Hyung’s a good sport.” Hongjoong tells her as he signs her album, writing ‘To Hongjoong Protection Squad founder’ and putting a few hearts around her name.

She explains how the pins were a group order thing they did and that the proceeds were donated to an LGBT equality organization in his name. Hongjoong thanks her sincerely and squeezes her hand before he finally lets go.

After a while of Hongjoong talking and moving a little too animatedly, one of his cat ear clips slips off. He removes them and the flower crown in favor of a circlet made of lace ruffles and satin rosettes in the colors of the rainbow. There are little ribbons which hang down in the back and tangle with his mullet and it’s all rather adorable. Seonghwa has to school his expression because he’s sure he looks like a dopey idiot every time he glances at Hongjoong.

There’s actually a good mix of fans of different genders, so it isn’t just a stream of giggling fangirls (which Seonghwa, of course, does not mind in the slightest… they all seem very unlikely to cause his charge any harm, so he will gladly take them in droves). There is one guy who is practically trembling with nervousness when he finally sits down in front of Hongjoong, and he seems like he might break down crying at any second. He tells Hongjoong how his sudden confession on VLive felt so raw and honest that he was inspired to come out to his own family. It hadn’t ended well, but he didn’t regret it because no matter what their reaction was, it didn’t change the truth of who he was and that was the point of coming out. To live his truth.

Hongjoong takes both of the fanboy’s hands into his own and Seonghwa understands all at once why he would risk the off chance of someone being slightly inappropriate to forego the no-touching rule because this is so obviously what he needs in that moment.

“It can be hard to live your truth, especially when so many people hate you for it or want you to remain silent. But the most important thing is to be true to yourself… because at the end of it all, it’s your life. Everyone else is just a temporary part of it. You have to do what’s right for you , what’s true to you . And I’m proud of you for doing that.”

The fanboy nods, his eyes sparkling. Hongjoong keeps one hand on his while he signs his album, and makes a funny comment to get him to laugh. The boy thanks him at least six times, he thinks, before he heads back to sit down in the audience. Hongjoong might see the way his friends wrap him up and he quietly cries against them… he might, but if he does, he pretends that he doesn’t.

Hongjoong holds it together through the rest of the fansign. Through more sob stories (and good stories), some fun games and a small performance of a couple of his songs before he says his thank-yous and goodbyes.

In the greenroom, while the staff is packing up all his gifts and loading them up, Hongjoong breaks down and sobs into Seonghwa’s chest. Seonghwa holds him, whispers that everything is all right, rubs his back and tells him that it’s okay to let it out. When all the staff clears out, he wipes his tears and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, then his lips. Hongjoong kisses him back feverishly for a moment, pulling him in harshly before he seems to remember where they are and backs away.

Seonghwa smooths Hongjoong’s hair down and kisses the crown of his head. They part just as staff returns to let them know the car is ready and they can leave.

***

Hongjoong starts to spend more and more time at his studio. Seonghwa doesn’t know if he’s trying to channel all his frustrations and worries into something productive or if he’s just locking himself away to escape it all. Seonghwa tries to talk to him about it, tries to get him to talk through his emotions, but Hongjoong won’t. He just sidesteps, changes the subject, often crawls into Seonghwa’s lap and kisses him silent, if they are alone in Hongjoong’s apartment.

Seonghwa knows how he obsesses over twitter, so he monitors mentions of Hongjoong every so often. After the fanmeeting, there are a lot of people praising his resilience and his love for the fans. There are always those who are critical of him, or outright hateful, but they seem to be blocked by most fans based on the lack of interaction, and the accounts are often mass-reported and deleted quickly judging by how swiftly they come and go.

There are threads about him , too, which is a little awkward. He isn’t used to the spotlight. He’s used to being the suit in the background, nothing more. But the fangirl who brought the badge for him made an entire post about it and the subtweets include her screaming about how he now wears the thing in public at all times (it is at Hongjoong’s insistence, of course; if he doesn’t wear it, he notices and never fails to comment). It has, as he said at the fansign, become his ‘official uniform’. Eden smirks wryly about it every time he sees it, even chuckles in amusement, but he knows better than to tell Hongjoong he shouldn’t make his bodyguard wear the silly thing. Allow him his small pleasures… that way, it stings just a little less when he has to tell him another interview was canceled or turned down due to excessive hate or protests being aimed at the media personnel.

It’s a particularly quiet Tuesday when Seonghwa leaves Hongjoong at his studio to compose. He never ventures too far… since he cannot ever be sure when Hongjoong will call him back to head home, but more often than not, he has several hours at least before he’s needed. He runs some logistical errands for Eden, checks in with his friends at the police station who run the worst of the hate mail through their lab for him… it never gets them anything, but he always tries. He thinks he might have time to run to the market to grab some refills on Hongjoong’s preferred snacks so he starts heading that way, only for his phone to ring.

He presses the button on his Bluetooth to pick up the line. “Go ahead.”

“Seonghwa-hyung I think someone is at the studio.”

It’s Hongjoong, but his voice is so small . He sounds terrified, his words shaky and thin.

Seonghwa feels his blood turn to ice in his veins. He shifts gears, drifting out to make a hairpin u-turn back toward Hongjoong’s studio. His leather driving gloves catch on the wheel, helping to keep the turn steady.  “You’re still there, now? What happened?”

He keeps his voice calm but the tone is somewhat urgent. He shifts gears again and guns it.

“I’ve been here, mixing, but when I walked by my door to go grab another drink there was an envelope that wasn’t there before, someone slid it under the door or something. I don’t know how long ago it was, or if they’re still here—”

“Don’t touch the envelope and stay in your studio with the door locked. I’m coming to you.”

“Okay… stay on the line with me?”

“Yes, don’t hang up.”

“Okay… um… h-how far are you?” Hongjoong asks.

“Give me six and a half minutes.” Seonghwa tells him, and he hopes it’s a mild comfort knowing he’s fairly close. “Can you remember the last time you went by the door and nothing was there? Your best guess.”

“I don’t… I don’t know. Honestly? When I first got here. I sat at my computer for hours. It could’ve been right after I got here or five minutes ago.”

Seonghwa hums, having expected as much. People were always trying to warn Hongjoong that his work ethic would kill him, but he didn’t think they had ever meant it literally.

Hongjoong suddenly lets out a terrified whimper and there’s a clatter on the other end of the line.

“What is it?” Seonghwa asks, a sort of desperate concern in his tone.

“There’s—I don’t know, I thought I heard someone in the hall.” Hongjoong responds, voice cracking.

“I’m almost there, keep the door closed.” Seonghwa tells him, composed but edged with worry.

“Okay.” He manages to squeak out. “But uh, don’t crash or anything on my account.”

“You underestimate my driving abilities.” Seonghwa quips back, but there’s no humor in it. He’s too focused on everything else.

He peels into what it definitely not a parking space at the front of the building—he has no time to worry about something as banal as traffic laws at the moment, admittedly—and barely even closes his door before he’s bolting for the building. He doesn’t bother with the elevator; he takes the stairs, two at a time, to the third floor. When he emerges from the stairwell, there’s no one in the hall, at least not anymore. He gives a cursory glance at the door to Hongjoong’s studio before he knocks hard, the sound muffled slightly by his gloves.

“It’s Seonghwa.”

“Oh thank god.” Hongjoong breathes, wrenching the door open and blindly throwing himself into Seonghwa’s chest. He wraps his arms around him like he’s a lifeline, gripping at his back as though he might fall were he not bracing himself.

Seonghwa returns the embrace for the briefest moment—it is a quick, but warm gesture, until Seonghwa is wrenching him away with a regretful look.

He almost asks about the envelope, but then he spots it there on the floor in front of the door, just inside the studio. He furrows his brow and pulls Hongjoong inside, closing the door behind him.

Seonghwa looks around, grabbing a piece of mail from the counter. It’s just a junk letter; Hongjoong probably hasn’t even bothered opening it. He watches his bodyguard in confusion.

“What is it?”

Seonghwa crouches and tries to push the envelope under the door. There’s a ridge of rubbery plastic running along the bottom to help with soundproofing, which seals tight against the bottom jamb when it’s closed. The letter crinkles and folds in his grip, but it won’t slide under the door. He looks up at him expectantly.

It’s visible in his eyes, when Hongjoong’s blood turns to ice in his veins. His next words are barely more than a whisper, “They opened the door.”

Seonghwa moves. He takes Hongjoong by his shoulders and presses him into the door, so he’s facing into the studio. Then he goes and checks every corner, every closet, every crevice, every millimeter of the space. He finds nothing.

He picks up the offending letter, turning it over in his gloved hand. He can see the messy permanent-marker scrawl on the paper inside through the thin envelope. He has no doubt it’s another threat, potentially the most concerning yet given how it was delivered.

“I’ll have this sent to my friends at the lab for testing. And I will accompany you in the studio from now on.”

Weeks ago, Hongjoong likely would have offered protest… maybe even thrown a fit. Now, he just nods.

“I… I had my headphones in, my back was to the door, I must not have noticed… how ? They could’ve killed me. They could’ve… done anything, and I wouldn’t have even noticed until it was too late.”

Hongjoong sounds like he’s on the verge of having a mental breakdown, and he probably is—voice strung-out and quaking. He looks lightheaded, and staggers when he pushes off the door. Seonghwa reaches out to stabilize him automatically, as natural as anything.

“In all honesty, this tells me these people—or this person— is not interested in harming you so much as tormenting you.” Seonghwa reasons. “We had no idea they had access to your studio. Now they have to know I will be ramping up security in the wake of this. Why give that advantage away over something so small when it could have been used to bring you real harm?”

“Somehow that’s… only a little comforting.” Hongjoong says in a thin voice.

“Regardless, we shouldn’t dwell on the worst of the what-ifs. And we should also get you back home.”

Hongjoong nods, agreeing.

When they get downstairs, Hongjoong climbs into the passenger’s seat as he so often does. Once they’re on the road, Seonghwa speaks, though his eyes stay trained straight ahead.

“I don’t care how impossible it seems, I want you to tell me everyone who has the code to your studio.”

“U-uh… other than me: KQ’s CEO, Eden-hyung, and two trainee rappers with the company; Mingi and Junyoung.” Hongjoong rattles off, voice shaking. From the look in his eyes, he can’t believe it had been any of them. It’s as much an impossibility to him as the culprit being the boogeyman, he imagines.

“Plus building maintenance and management would have a master code. It’s a small suspect pool until you consider how easily someone connected to that place could get it.” Seonghwa murmurs, still in his own thoughts. There are too many variables. They still know so little.

“I don’t know…” Hongjoong grimaces. “A lot of producers and idols have studios there… it’s trusted in the industry.”

“All it would take was one employee who was willing to take a bribe. One employee who disagrees with your lifestyle. I know it seems conspiratorial but… we need to consider the possibility.” Seonghwa reasons.

“I wanna know what it says.” Hongjoong mumbles suddenly, though his eyes haven’t left the dashboard, staring straight ahead but glossed over, far away. “After your investigators look at it. I want to know.”

Seonghwa frowns, nodding… but he isn’t sure if he will ever have the heart to tell him.

***

Seonghwa starts joining Hongjoong at his studio, and—unsurprisingly—it isn’t an ideal solution. Seonghwa sits on the boxy, black faux-leather couch that’s tucked into the corner nearest the door, letting his mind wander a little while still remaining aware of what’s going on around him. Hongjoong seems to be making an attempt at being productive, but so often his gaze tracks back over to his bodyguard, curious and perhaps something else entirely.

“Aren’t you bored?” Hongjoong asks after two hours have passed.

“Remember when I mentioned those cabinet meetings?”

Hongjoong snorts. “Yeah but… half the time I’m just dead silent. And the other half I’m making weird noises with random objects to record sound effects.”

Seonghwa shrugs. “At the very least, the view is infinitely better.”

Hongjoong gives him a look , admonishing. “Really? Playing to my vanity?”

“We don’t have many idol-types who are elected officials.” Seonghwa replies in a subdued tone.

Hongjoong just barks a laugh and throws something at him, which he easily bats away as he tries to hold back his own laughter.

After a moment, when the mood has mellowed, Seonghwa sounds pensive as he speaks again.

“I hope that I’m not… providing too much of a distraction to you. Or that you feel as if I’m judging you at all. You should continue to work as though I’m not here. I know that seems impossible, but I can assure you I really don’t—”

Seonghwa stops talking because Hongjoong has crossed the room and slid into his lap, giving him a fond but incredulous look.

“I admit, you’re a little distracting. But not because I think you’re watching me make weird noises into a mic like I’m some kind of lunatic.” Hongjoong murmurs, his nose sliding along Seonghwa’s in that sweet way of his. “Mostly because I wonder if you think this time alone together could be better spent.”

“We always have our evenings at home.” Seonghwa protests. So often they’ve been spending them together, after all. “I only wonder if I prevent you from doing your best work when I’m here. I want you to be able to work and write and compose in peace. It’s so clearly your passion, and—”

“Seonghwa-hyung…” Hongjoong husks, leaning in until their lips just barely brush. “Honestly, right now… I’d very much like it if you passionately fucked me right here on my studio couch.”

“For you to expect me to do that, you’d have to be running on the assumption that I simply carry lube and condoms with me everywhere I go.” Seonghwa retorts.

“Well, you do strike me as a man who’s always prepared for anything.” Hongjoong admits, leaning over to the side table next to the couch and opening the drawer. “But… in this case, I took the liberty.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Kim Hongjoong, I’m impressed. Did you plan to seduce just anyone in this studio or was that strictly for me?”

It’s a stupid question. It’s stupid . It’s selfish. It’s something he’s not sure he wants the answer to the moment it leaves his mouth, but now it’s too late. It’s already been asked.

But Hongjoong just grins, digging his teeth into his lower lip for a moment before he replies, eyes glinting playfully. “Wasn’t planning on seducing anyone else in here. I even got the normal kind so the whole place won’t smell like cinnamon or fake cherries.”

“Oh, would that be so bad?” Seonghwa teases, pressing a gentle kiss to his bottom lip. “Your response to the scent was becoming almost Pavlovian… it was getting entertaining.”

Hongjoong huffs at him, swatting his chest. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. I didn’t say I would deny you.” Seonghwa reasons, running his hands up Hongjoong’s sides. Truth be told, he’s not sure he can deny him much of anything.

Hongjoong smirks and slides off the couch, settling between Seonghwa’s legs. He pulls him out of his pants and strokes over him until he’s fully hard, then leans down to take him into his mouth.

Seonghwa has always been more inclined to lean toward giving rather than receiving. He takes pleasure in watching his partner fall apart under his touch, in finding new ways to please them. But he thinks he could watch Hongjoong go down on him like this forever. The way he is so singularly-focused, so eager… and he looks gorgeous like this, his lips wrapped obscenely around his cock, his cheeks bulging a little to accommodate him.

Seonghwa shivers and runs a hand through his hair, soothing more than demanding. He never rushes him, never forces him down or tries to control his movements. He just basks in it, watching with heat smoldering behind his eyes, rising from where it coils hotly in his gut.

After a while, Hongjoong pulls off with a lewd pop. He grins and stands, tipping forward and kissing his nose. He pulls back and slides off of him, making a show of walking over to his computer—he’s such a minx, he knows damn well how good his ass looks in those pants—where he taps a few keys. An unobtrusive beat with a deep bassline starts playing on loop through the speakers, just loud enough to create a little ambient noise.

“This room is mostly soundproofed.” Hongjoong says, too-casual, as though he’s discussing something as menial as the weather while he pulls his hoodie off over his head and stalks back toward the couch. “But better to have at least something playing.”

Seonghwa thinks the look in his eyes is very, very dangerous.

He has learned to trust his instincts in that regard.

Minutes later when Seonghwa is perched above him on the couch, his cock sliding home with familiarity, he thinks those instincts must count for something.

Up until now, Hongjoong has been acting as he always does. He writhes and mewls under Seonghwa’s touch, taking his fingers so much easier now than he had on that first night. Seonghwa avoids his prostate, avoids riling him up too much in favor of prepping him, and when he breathlessly begs for his cock, Seonghwa obliges.

Now, as he gives him exactly what he wants, Hongjoong lets out a too-loud moan, throwing his head back against the cushions. It’s more than loud, it’s overly loud, like he’s doing it entirely on purpose.

Something must show on his face, because Hongjoong looks up at him with a coy expression, rutting his hips down a little.

“I can’t exactly do this at home. I live in an apartment.” Hongjoong pouts, but then he’s biting his lip and grinning mischievously, his nose scrunching a little. “So c’mon, make me scream.”

Seonghwa bristles, because he knows a challenge when he hears one.

He really is entirely too weak to Hongjoong’s charms, he thinks, as he gives him exactly what he wants.

“A-ah fuck hyung!” Hongjoong wails as Seonghwa fucks him hard and fast. His fingernails dig into the arm of the couch so hard that the vinyl threatens to tear.

“You like that?” Seonghwa asks in a low voice, egging him on, because he has very little self control, he finds, when it comes to Kim Hongjoong.

Hongjoong keens, arching up to meet him. “Yes fuck , s’good, it’sogood-!”

“I could get used to hearing you like this.” Seonghwa husks, rutting his hips up just a little harder to hear Hongjoong again. He lets out an honest-to-god squeal and Seonghwa shivers.

Hongjoong starts begging for him to be closer , to go deeper , and Seonghwa realizes he is limited by his position on the admittedly narrow cushions. He rests one foot on the floor and the other on the couch itself before he threads his arms under Hongjoong and stands, taking the other with him as he goes.

As an idol, Hongjoong has a sort of presence that makes him feel larger than life. He is imposing in that he is talented, outspoken, confident… but in Seonghwa’s arms, like this, he seems so small . It’s as though he can simply gather him up and carry Hongjoong with him wherever he goes.

Seonghwa ruts his hips up at the same time that he lets Hongjoong drop against him, allowing gravity do most of the work. Hongjoong looses a moan that sounds like it was punched out of him, legs tightening around Seonghwa’s waist while his hands scrabble to grab at what they can. One is braced on his shoulder, the other curled around his neck and tangled up in his hair.

They’re so close now that their foreheads are touching, their lips brushing on every other thrust. Hongjoong gasps and moans into his mouth, his grip tightening every time Seonghwa drops him down onto his cock. Hongjoong’s eyes are hooded, his gaze smoldering as he locks eyes with him and doesn’t let him go. Somehow, it’s more intimate than anything they are doing, than anything they have ever done.

Hongjoong whines, his feet kicking a little in what might be discomfort or need.

Seonghwa crosses the room, setting Hongjoong down on his knees in his desk chair. He grabs it to stop it from rolling, using the leverage to pull Hongjoong against him and back down onto his cock. Hongjoong groans, hands gripping at the chair, his nails catching on the top seams. Seonghwa’s palms move to Hongjoong’s hips, holding fast and pulling him flush against him as he drives into him with renewed purpose.

The sound Hongjoong lets out is obscene .

Seonghwa picks his rhythm back up as though there had been no interruption at all, to a chorus of sweet sounds. Hongjoong isn’t posturing anymore. Seonghwa can see it in the way he looks over his shoulder, the way his eyes have glazed over, the way his mouth hangs open a little and the noises just tumble out, like he doesn’t have the presence of mind to stop them.

Seonghwa runs a hand up Hongjoong’s spine, letting it settle over the curve of his shoulder. Hongjoong reaches back with one arm, just trying to get a hand on Seonghwa. He barely manages to reach his thigh, his fingers grabbing desperately for the fabric of the pants he is still wearing. He’s letting out nothing but a litany of whines, now, staccato on every thrust. He is breathing in fevered, ragged gasps, and when his head dips down, pressed hard into the back of the chair, Seonghwa knows he is close.

He barely gets a hand around Hongjoong, managing only a half-dozen pulls at his cock before he’s stiffening under him and coming with a visceral scream, all over the black leather of his chair. He shakes apart under Seonghwa, and that is Seonghwa’s undoing. He comes himself with a bitten-off shout of Hongjoong’s name, pressed lovingly into the apex of his shoulder.

For a moment, they just breathe. It’s several long minutes before Seonghwa pulls out, gingerly turns Hongjoong around in his chair, careful to avoid the mess.

Hongjoong stares at him for a short while before he leans forward, stretching a bit to tap at his computer. The music stops dead, the room falling silent. He settles back into his chair, letting out a long breath.

“I may have made a tactical error.” Hongjoong mumbles, frowning so hard that his bottom lip juts out a little.

“And what’s that?” Seonghwa asks indulgently, kissing him softly because Hongjoong is adorable when he pouts.

“I think I have to throw this whole mix out. Pavlov and all that.” Hongjoong laments, sighing regretfully.

Seonghwa laughs, pulling him in for another kiss, and he thinks it’s likely for the best.

***

Things are calm for about a week, which means it’s probably about time for another incident. Seonghwa is starting to sense a disturbing pattern, and it seems as though Hongjoong isn’t allowed to go more than a week or two without something happening.

In this case, it’s not even direct. KQ Entertainment announces their intent to debut a new idol group in the near future. As expected by Hongjoong himself, it will feature two rapper trainees with the company; Mingi and Junyoung, as well as a powerhouse vocalist Hongjoong had met briefly on a reality show whose name is Jongho. Speculation abounds that a dancer named Yunho may also be in the final roster.

This should be happy news. Hongjoong is delighted when he hears, sending congratulations texts to Mingi and Junyoung and overall just chattering excitedly to Seonghwa about it while they’re in the studio. But as soon as his good mood comes, it leaves. He goes from deciding between a few different restaurants to take them to in celebration to staring at his phone screen in dead silence. It’s obvious Hongjoong is manically checking his phone again, and Seonghwa wonders if social media is the culprit.

He hazards a glance at twitter on his own phone and his theory is confirmed. There are a lot of people making comments about how they hope none of the members are gay, or claiming they’ll be happy when they debut so KQ can “lock Hongjoong in the dungeon until everyone forgets about him”. The hate isn’t all there is; there are plenty of people pledging their support no matter what, even hyperbolically claiming them for the LGBT community before they even debut, but Seonghwa knows well enough that Hongjoong hears the hate so much more loudly than the love and support.

Seonghwa knows from Hongjoong’s hushed conversations over coffee with Mingi that Mingi isn’t heterosexual, but that he has no intentions of coming out anytime soon. Hongjoong hadn’t even lamented the lack of public solidarity; he’d just told him to do whatever he had to and whatever felt right. It incenses him, the kind of response that awaits idols like him were he to choose to go public. Seonghwa cannot blame him for wanting to stay closeted.

Seonghwa locks his phone and pockets it, standing. Hongjoong doesn’t even look up; he’s too embroiled in reading a comment war on instagram. The bodyguard sighs softly, then clears his throat.

“Perhaps you should call it an early night.” He suggests, tone too meaningful.

The other still doesn’t look up, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling . “S’fine, I haven’t gotten anything done yet really—”

“Hongjoong-ah.” Seonghwa says softly, insistent.

That causes him to look up, meeting his eyes. Seonghwa has only ever used his name in the heat of passion. They aren’t in public, though, or around others, so he doesn’t see any reason not to.

“Let’s go home.” Seonghwa tries, and finally, Hongjoong nods, shoving his phone into his hoodie without even looking away from him, like he doesn’t want to break the moment.

He climbs into the passenger’s seat of Seonghwa’s car, quiet and pensive. He stares out the window, toward the rapidly setting sun, watching as it paints the sky in hues of purple and orange.

“It’s so early. What am I even gonna do with myself all night?” Hongjoong comments off-hand. He seems to realize just how that could be taken and ducks his head a little, grimacing. “I just mean, I’m not used to having so much free time.”

“We could watch a movie.” Seonghwa suggests. He’s not sure just why he has invited himself into this scenario, but it’s another instance of things leaving his mouth before he approves them. He’s never had this problem before Hongjoong.

“Mm, maybe something light. Can we watch the one with the minions in it?”

Seonghwa has no idea why he’s being asked; as far as he is concerned, Hongjoong can watch anything he damn well pleases. But he wonders if maybe Hongjoong needs someone to tell him it’s okay. Sometimes people need to be assured that the little things they like to indulge in are allowed.

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

From the way Hongjoong beams, he thinks that’s precisely what he needs to hear.

Hongjoong spends the rest of the drive comparing the merits of all the films thus far which have featured minions, and Seonghwa realizes these are the little yellow things in overalls that the fans are always gifting him. He’s not much of one for pop culture so it’s no wonder to him that he’s only seen them vaguely in passing before. Seonghwa now understands why Hongjoong’s house slippers are ridiculously shaped like the things, why he has plushies of them throughout the apartment.

Hongjoong seems in slightly better spirits by the time they arrive. Seonghwa can sense that he still just wants to relax and decompress. He grabs him some of his favorite snacks before settling with him on the couch, pulling the other close against his chest.

He lets his fingertips play idly against his skin while Hongjoong eats and watches his silly animated film. Seonghwa isn’t really paying attention to the movie… instead he tracks the rise and fall of Hongjoong’s chest, the occasional sweet peals of laughter, the hums of approval when he scratches gently against his scalp or traces nonsensical patterns around his navel from beneath his shirt. When he presses a gentle kiss into the curve of his shoulder, Hongjoong giggles softly and nuzzles his head against Seonghwa’s until the angle is right for him lean in and kiss his cheek.

Seonghwa didn’t think that it would ever be like this. This is… sweet. It’s domestic. He had fully expected Hongjoong to be firmly focused on physicality, on chasing a visceral, sexual connection in the wake of so much strife and adrenaline and fear. But as they sit together on the couch with Hongjoong settled cozily in his arms he thinks… this has the makings of something more than he ever expected. This has the makings of a relationship. If he lets himself look at all those outings they have together, all the cafe trips and ice cream stops and shopping excursions—ones where it’s just the two of them, talking, getting to know each other—if he lets himself see them as dates , then this feels… inevitable. It feels like natural progression. It feels like falling in love.

The thought terrifies Seonghwa just a little, because he cannot possibly know where Hongjoong’s feelings lie on the matter. It may only be a relationship of convenience for him… and if that is the case, Seonghwa can respect that. He is an idol, which means his life and time are micromanaged to an obscene degree. Seonghwa is there near-constantly, his presence is not concerning to anyone at the company, and they get along well. All convenient. It speaks to reason that Hongjoong would see him as such.

But the way Hongjoong looks at him after he presses a sweet kiss to his lips, easy as anything… there’s something so earnest in the way his eyes crinkle, the way his nose scrunches up as he leans in and nudges it against Seonghwa’s own. It doesn’t feel like convenience . It feels like—

Suddenly, Seonghwa is pulled out of his thoughts by a loud crash that comes from behind them, accompanied the sound of shattered glass and a heavy thud. Hongjoong lets out a shriek, covering his ears automatically.

Seonghwa dives over Hongjoong, pinning him down against the cushions on instinct. He waits, but nothing else happens. It’s hard, looking down at Hongjoong like this, his face panic-stricken and confused. He much prefers those moments when they are alone and he is above him and there is not a care that enters Hongjoong’s mind.

Seonghwa reins in his stray thoughts, listening. He hears distant footfalls; the scrape of shoes pounding the pavement. Someone is running.

“Stay down, don’t move.” Seonghwa hisses, gentle as he can manage, before bolting up. He quickly assesses the area; broken glass, scuffed wood floor, a brick with a slur scrawled upon it in angry red paint… and out the window, a figure, running away in the darkness.

It’s his only lead. He can’t let it slip away.

“Hongjoong-ah, stay here!” Seonghwa calls back over his shoulder, making a split-second decision.

A stupid decision, really, but he doesn’t have any alternatives.

He runs straight out through the broken glass door, leaping over the shards before bounding over the balcony partition. Hongjoong yelps in protest, he hears that much the moment he jumps. It’s a small building, but he’s on the second floor. It’s not the furthest he’s fallen on purpose—or on accident, for that matter—and he sticks the landing, preventing any breaks or sprains by rolling out of it.

“Stay there!” Seonghwa shouts back, insistent, letting his house slippers stay there as he bolts after the suspect. Asphalt and pavement aren’t the best on his bare feet but anything less than real shoes will just slow him down anyway.

He sprints down the street, taking a hairpin turn after the guy. He’s small; he’s got much shorter legs than Seonghwa and he’s not particularly athletic. Seonghwa catches up in under a minute. He tackles him, taking them both to the ground. He’s wearing a hat and a face mask and when Seonghwa tears them away, he freezes.

He’s a kid.

He’s a kid, and he looks terrified .

Seonghwa puts on his best serious expression, his tone stern, and hauls him to his feet. “Kid, you’ve got three seconds to explain what the hell you just did that for.”

“I-it wasn’t my idea!” The kid stammers out around deep, heaving breaths. “This old guy, h-he paid me to do it. He gave me the money and the address and the brick and everything! I didn’t think someone would jump out a window over it…”

“How old is old ?” Seonghwa asks. “My age? Older?”

“I don’t know, older? H-he had sunglasses on, I didn’t really see!”

Seonghwa frowns. This is is only lead. He can’t hold him, but he can’t just let him slip away, either. He pulls out his phone, tabbing through his photos.

“Any of these guys look familiar?” He swipes through them slowly, showing the kid. He has photos of some KQ performers, trainees, management and staff, the booking photo of the acid-attack suspect, and some pictures he’d lifted from the social media profiles of some online threats they’d traced back to people via IP address. He gets through about half of them before the kid stops him.

“H-him! I think it was him!”

Seonghwa looks at the screen, brow furrowing. “You’re certain?”

“Yeah, he grabbed my shoulder kinda hard and I remember that ring, it sorta hurt.”

Seonghwa frowns, nodding. “All right. You can go… but don’t take money from strangers to do questionable things in the night anymore, hm?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He grumbles, brushing himself off before heading down the opposite way.

Seonghwa sighs, staring at the photo on his mobile phone’s screen for a long moment before closing the app. He pockets it and heads back for the apartment, wondering just what he’s going to tell Hongjoong.

***

“What the fuck was that?” Hongjoong rasps as he lets Seonghwa back into his apartment, once more wearing the slippers he’d retrieved from downstairs. He at least has the good sense to keep his voice down, since it’s somewhat late. It doesn’t seem like any of the neighbors have bothered to check on the source of the initial crash anyway, which probably speaks to how much the people living here keep to themselves.

“An ill-conceived plan. More of a reaction, honestly. It was a lead.” Seonghwa says, sighing.

“Did they get away?” Hongjoong asks, his tone far more subdued.

“I… let him go. He was a kid. Too young to know how stupid he was being. He says an older man paid him to do it.” Seonghwa tells him, choosing to be honest.

Hongjoong starts at that. “Paid? Did he know who the guy was?”

Seonghwa frowns. “The kid didn’t really see his face. He couldn’t be sure.”

“I see.” Hongjoong murmurs, crestfallen. “Then, so much for him being a lead.”

“Unfortunately.” Seonghwa replies, gaze tracking over to the brick on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass. “If you want to involve the police, I’ll call them. But if not, I should get this cleaned up.”

“No… no police.” Hongjoong says, shaking his head. “Not like there’s a point.”

Seonghwa concedes that much, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deeply regret that it is so.

He goes and gets the broom from the kitchen closet, insisting Hongjoong stay put while he cleans up. He isn’t sure if anything else got tossed in with the brick, or just how far the glass spread, so he doesn’t want to risk Hongjoong hurting himself.

After the floor is clean and the brick and glass disposed of, he ductapes a sheet to the empty sliding door frame to keep insects and the elements out. It’s not supposed to rain for a few days at least, so it will likely be fine for now.

“I’ll run a vacuum tomorrow, but it’s a little late and I don’t want to anger your neighbors.” Seonghwa tells him as he finishes up. “We can also call in someone to repair it in the morning. Would you like to sleep at my place tonight?”

Hongjoong perks up at that. “Your place?”

“I know you’re on the second floor, but I still don’t like the idea of there not being much of a physical barrier between you and the outside world… save for the sheet.” Seonghwa explains, pointing toward where it billows against the tape when the breeze passes through.

“No, yeah, that would be… yeah. Let me just… grab some stuff.” Hongjoong stammers, heading into his bedroom.

He’s right down the hall, so he only takes his favorite pillow, his phone charger and a hoodie in case he gets cold. He walks with Seonghwa just a few doors down, and Seonghwa sees the way he blinks in shock as they enter his apartment.

“Oh my god it’s like an operating room in here.” Hongjoong says, presumably taking in the spotless, largely white decor.

“This is what floors look like when you own something called a mop.” Seonghwa bites back.

“Yeah, and an obsessive compulsion for cleanliness.” Hongjoong mutters.

“I will send you back to your own apartment, alone, if you’re going to act ungrateful.” Seonghwa bristles.

“No you won’t.” Hongjoong calls his bluff.

Seonghwa sighs. “No, I won’t.”

Hongjoong grins victoriously. “Bet you’d have a conniption if I tried to get you to fuck me anywhere but the bed after you’ve put a ton of towels down, huh?”

Seonghwa’s expression betrays nothing when he replies, “I would have you on any surface you wished.”

Hongjoong visibly chokes a bit, and he feels victorious.

“I would just clean it thoroughly afterward.” He continues succinctly, clearing his throat. “But tonight… I think you should just sleep. It’s been a hell of an evening.”

Hongjoong laughs, looking a little surprised. “Ah, dropping some of those formalities, I see! You’re finally starting to talk like a human born in our century.”

“I was going to say ‘tumultuous’ but I thought you might nag me over it.” Seonghwa admits with a smirk.

Hongjoong shakes his head, holding out a hand. “Sleep it is, then. Come to bed?”

“It’s my apartment.” Seonghwa reminds, slipping his hand into the other’s regardless. “Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

“You should.” Hongjoong agrees, not making any move toward the bedroom.

Seonghwa grins at him, huffing a laugh. His voice is impossibly soft, impossibly fond when he tosses his head toward the bedroom door and repeats, “Come to bed?”

Hongjoong grins at him, squeezing his hand, and lets himself be led.

***

Seonghwa rises with the sun.

The morning sunrise greets the windows just across from his bed, and he has always been a light sleeper. Next to him, Hongjoong is snoozing blissfully into his minion pillow. He chuckles softly to himself, fondly leaning down to kiss his cheek before he stealthily climbs out of bed.

He makes a few calls. First for the window repair… they claim they may have enough time to come in the late afternoon but if things get backed up it might take until tomorrow. After hanging up with them, Seonghwa calls Eden, letting him know what happened and advising that Hongjoong will be taking the week off. He doesn’t frame it as a recommendation, even though he hasn’t bothered to run it by Hongjoong yet. The week off is actually for him, because he needs some time to collect evidence and work on his investigation into the source of Hongjoong’s torment, and he cannot do that if he has to be by Hongjoong’s side while he’s out and about.

Eden doesn’t argue. He laments that this is the age they live in, that ignorance is not only so prevalent but so loud and so dangerous. Seonghwa can’t help but share the sentiment. They discuss the social media storm surrounding the announcement of the new idol group, and even Eden questions the timing given all that’s happened. He does have to admit, though, that it is time for KQ Entertainment to have some pleasant headlines to their name. Seonghwa can agree to that.

There’s a loud noise from his bedroom, suddenly; something like a distressed yelp. He hurriedly tells Eden he has to go and hangs up without further warning before heading back into the bedroom.

“Is everything all right? Hongjoong-ah?” Seonghwa asks as he comes through the door. He can see nothing looks amiss, but Hongjoong is sitting up on the bed, breathing heavily and looking distressed.

“Y-yeah, it’s nothing, sorry. Just another nightmare. Nothing to worry over.” He mumbles, brushing his fringe away from his face.

“That’s plenty to worry over.” Seonghwa murmurs, sliding back into bed with him and pulling the other against his side. He rubs at his shoulders soothingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his neck. “Do you want to—”

“Hyung, I’m… scared.” Hongjoong says, his voice raw and strained.

Part of Seonghwa is glad he finally wants to talk about it. The other part of him aches knowing that everything that’s happened is finally breaking him down enough that he feels as though he must.

“I haven’t been scared, before… of these hateful people. Not really. I was so convinced this was all just bluster and fanfare. I didn’t think for one second someone would actually try to, but—” He lets out a mirthless laugh. “The acid, coming to my studio, to my home ? There’s someone out there paying people to… I didn’t think anything like that could ever really happen.”

“That was your first mistake.” Seonghwa murmurs, looking away. “I know that it seems… cruel, but I always expect the worst from people. That’s how I keep you safe.”

“You once said… I’m allowed to live my life. But, I just don’t feel like I am.” Hongjoong rasps. “How can I, when—”

“I know.” Seonghwa soothes, petting gently through the other’s hair. “I’m going to find out who keeps leaking your personal information and I’m going to stop them. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong bites back, and it’s so raw that Seonghwa can’t even be upset at his informality. “You’re the only person I can trust. Someone who has my personal information, someone who’s gotta be pretty close to me, is using it to fuck with me. To give people the chance to harm me. I don’t… I don’t know what I can even do at this point, I just—”

“I know, I know. Listen…” Seonghwa hushes, cupping Hongjoong’s face and gently tipping his head up until their eyes meet. “I told Eden-ssi you’re taking the week off. Give me a few days. Stay here, in my apartment. Don’t tell anyone . By the end of the week, I’ll rat out this mole.”

Hongjoong stares at him for a long moment, as if he wants to offer protest. He seems to give up, though, letting out a shaky sigh.

“And what happens… after. Once you find out who’s doing all this?”

Seonghwa furrows his brow, not understanding the question. “Then you’ll be safer.”

“Yeah but… what then? What will you do?”

Seonghwa realizes, then, exactly what Hongjoong means. He realizes he’s been a goddamn fool, too.

“There will always be people who want to hurt you, or who are such fanatics that they think that rules don’t apply to them and they can throw themselves at you without a second thought. You’ll always need a bodyguard.”

“So you won’t just… leave.” Hongjoong murmurs, and it isn’t exactly a question.

Seonghwa answers it anyway. “Of course not.”

“You’ll stay with me?” Hongjoong asks, his voice so small.

“Always.” Seonghwa assures.

“You’ll keep me safe?”

It aches in Seonghwa’s chest how hollow those words sound. He nods. “Until my last breath.”

Hongjoong snorts. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I have a feeling this is one of those rare occasions when you like it.”

“Mm, not as rare as you might think.” Hongjoong quips cheekily, climbing into Seonghwa’s lap. He moves in close until their noses brush, until their lips are only a breath apart. “Seonghwa-hyung?”

“Yes, Hongjoong-ah?”

“Will you make love to me?” Hongjoong asks softly, his fingers playing along Seonghwa’s chest.

“Anytime you wish.”

“Right now would be nice.” Hongjoong whispers, licking his lips as his eyes drift down to Seonghwa’s own.

“Anything for you, my love.” Seonghwa says, pulling Hongjoong closer until they are kissing.

Hongjoong makes a sweet little contented noise into his mouth, throwing his arms around Seonghwa’s neck, and Seonghwa’s heart feels like it is floating.

They kiss feverishly for a long while, hastily stripping each other of their sleep clothes. Hongjoong doesn’t leave Seonghwa’s lap, not for a single second—Seonghwa doesn’t exactly let him, just lifting his hips up enough to rid them of their pants, and later, enough to press his lube-slicked fingers inside him. When he is ready, he guides Hongjoong down onto his cock, kisses the sweet, pleasured sigh from his mouth, leans back against the headboard and holds his thighs so he has the leverage to grind up into him, languid and gentle.

Hongjoong starts on his knees… but after too long, he ends up with his legs wrapped around Seonghwa’s waist, relinquishing all of his control to his lover. His tiny fingers curl against Seonghwa’s neck, their eyes locked as if by magnetism. It is very much the same as that day in the studio, except it is not. That day, Hongjoong’s eyes were intense and smoldering, catlike… but now, they are open and earnest and sparkling. Seonghwa wants to revel in that gaze forever.

Hongjoong’s head falls back on a gasp and Seonghwa leans in, running his tongue up the long line of his throat, suckling softly under his jaw. Hongjoong chokes on a moan, begs—for exactly what is anyone’s guess, the words a jumbled mess of broken syllables and pleasured groans. Seonghwa just gives him everything he can think to give; he fucks him harder, holds him tighter, worries his teeth against the hollow of his throat until Hongjoong is shuddering and coming in his arms untouched.

Seonghwa coos a litany of praises, keeps his hips rolling steadily until Hongjoong is spent, then pivots to deposit him onto the bed, pulling out and stripping off the condom to jerk himself off across his abdomen. Hongjoong watches him with hazy eyes, the morning light falling across his face a little differently than it does in his own bedroom.

It is— he is—just as beautiful.

***

It takes Seonghwa three days to complete his investigation and prepare everything. Scouring through hours of footage from the studio building, which had been a venture to even obtain, eats away most of it. He prints out several copies of everything, organizes them neatly into manila folders, and calls Eden to set up a meeting with the CEO of KQ Entertainment.

Eden makes it happen, figuring if he’s got to expose whoever is doing all this to Hongjoong, it makes sense to go right to the top, to report it directly to someone who has the power to do something about it. Eden himself doesn’t have much power outside of Hongjoong’s management. It’s not as though he can fire anyone.

The next morning, Seonghwa heads for the KQ Entertainment building with that little manila folder tucked up under his arm, holding the same weight to him as an atomic bomb.

After the admin assistant tells him he can go in, opening the door for him, he steps into the CEO’s office. He doesn’t bow.

“Park Seonghwa! I was surprised when Eden-ssi told me you’d requested a meeting. Must be important, so I made the time.”

“I’m sure you have a busy schedule.” Seonghwa replies flatly.

“Naturally.” The man laughs, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. Seonghwa doesn’t sit. The older man clears his throat. “So, then, what can I do for Hongjoong’s bodyguard?”

“You can have a look at this.” Seonghwa says, handing him the folder. He flips through it almost absently at first, until something catches his eye. He looks closer at the documents, swallowing. “The evidence I’ve collected in my time working as Hongjoong-ssi’s protection. There have been a few unrelated incidents, but by and large, the vast majority of the most pervasive threats can be traced back to a KQ Entertainment employee.”

The CEO scratches at his chin. A gaudy gold ring glitters on one finger as it catches the light.

“You.” Seonghwa finishes.

The older man clears his throat again. “Are you the only person who has this?”

“Do you take me for a fool?” Seonghwa bites incredulously.

The CEO rolls his eyes, shoving the folder back at him. “If you are coming to me and not the police or the press, I must assume you want something.”

“Yes. Answers.” Seonghwa hisses. “Why? Why do all this?”

“What was I supposed to do? That ungrateful—he knew damn well what he was doing. The position he put me in.” The man snarls, hands balling into fists.

“What was done was done. Why retaliate?” Seonghwa asks.

“And let him think it was all right? That it wasn’t a catastrophe?” The CEO balks. “After what he did, I lost a quarter of our investors. And if I released his contract? We’d have lost the public, the fans.”

“What was the aim, here? What did you gain by terrorizing him? Certainly headlines which made it clear to any other idol who might consider coming out that the industry—the country —isn’t ready for it. But what did you gain?”

“A little bit of revenge, I suppose.” He gives a long-suffering sigh, leaning back in his chair and shrugging. “The only punishment I could levy.”

“No… it was more than that.” Seonghwa insists, watching him carefully for a long moment. “You… wanted to be rid of him, but you couldn’t release his contract yourself. It had to be his decision, or else you would have lost a lot of the public. So you needed him to leave the industry.”

The man seems to concede to that, inclining his head. “One way or another.”

Realization dawns on Seonghwa and he is horrified. It takes every fiber of his self control not to break this man’s neck where he sits.

The CEO must see some emotion flit across his face, beneath his carefully-crafted mask of apathy. “Will you tell him?”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes. “What reason would I have not to?”

“Could break a boy like that.”

Seonghwa bristles. “He has been through plenty and remained strong in the face of it. Much of it at your hand. Don’t presume to patronize him in my presence.”

“Still protecting him? He isn’t even here . Is it money you want? I can offer you that. Enough to retire on, I imagine. Could make a few calls, get you in at another agency if you really wanted, though.”

“You believe that you… can bribe me.” Seonghwa says, so incredulous that it’s almost a question. “I used to work for the president . My silence cannot be bought , most especially not by you.”

“Then why are we meeting like this?” The CEO asks in an almost bored tone.

Seonghwa throws the manila folder down hard on the table before he sits, his words venomous when he speaks.

“We’re negotiating.”

***

Later, Seonghwa sits across from Eden in the main conference room at KQ Entertainment headquarters, the contents of that manila folder spread out across the dark wood in front of him, and the other man only manages to blink at him in complete and utter confusion.

“Wait. Run that by me again?”

Seonghwa folds his hands patiently. “Your CEO has largely been the one terrorizing Hongjoong-ssi with these threats at his home and studio. The acid attack… he had nothing to do with, but he had a hand in creating the culture which ultimately led to it.”

“He… but why ?”

“Why else? Payback for Hongjoong-ssi coming out publicly without the company’s say-so… leaving him between a rock and a hard place with the investors and the public. That and…” Seonghwa grimaces, fist clenching over his knee. “I believe he felt the only way out was to drive Hongjoong-ssi either into retirement or into ending his own life. In both scenarios, he profits from album sales in the meantime while he attempts to build up another moneymaker to take his place.”

“The new idol group.” Eden murmurs in realization.

“Aptly timed. Hongjoong-ssi would have been lucky to get just one more album out before being relegated to obscurity.”

Eden scoffs. “It seems preposterous. It really does. But… I don’t feel like you’re the kind of person who would just make something up like that. Plus…”

He looks down at the evidence spread out before him and shakes his head with a sigh.

“So, what happens now?”

“Now, I present all this to Hongjoong-ssi and ask him how he wants to proceed. It’s his choice, in the end.”

“It’ll kill him, to learn this. To learn it was someone so close to home. I don’t know how he’ll take it.”

“You don’t believe I should tell him.” It’s almost a question.

“Honestly, I think you should let our CEO quietly step down and pretend it’s just a decision of the board. The board member you recommended to replace him, Kim Gyuwook-ssi, I think he is a good man and is much more likely to support Hongjoong without bitterness.”

“I don’t know if I can lie to Hongjoong-ssi.” Seonghwa admits, frowning. It had been hard enough to omit that the kid from the other night had identified KQ’s CEO as the man who had paid him to throw the brick. He’d only managed to convince himself to do so because it was true; he couldn’t be certain yet. But now…

Now he had evidence. A confession. Should he just… keep all that from Hongjoong? To spare his heart?

“Just think about it.” Eden says, giving him a meaningful look.

“Would you tell him?” Seonghwa asks, his voice soft.

“If I were in your position? I don’t think I could.” Eden admits. “He’s a good kid. Sensitive. He… I've known him a long time, you know? The first tracks of his I ever listened to, if I didn’t profess my immediate love of them, he was just convinced they weren’t good enough. That they were garbage.”

Eden laughs, shaking his head. “And you know… at least two of those were chart-toppers, when he eventually released them.”

Seonghwa smiles, melancholy and fond. That sounds just like Hongjoong, to doubt his own genius.

“I just… I don’t envy you.” Eden frowns, shoving at the papers in front of him with no little amount of disdain.

Seonghwa doesn’t envy himself, either. For once, he doesn’t know what to do.

***

When Seonghwa returns home, Hongjoong is waiting for him, just like the days before. Whereas he’s previously been firmly focused upon his laptop, usually huddled up on the couch, now he flits about in the kitchen wearing Seonghwa’s apron. He looks a little panicked when he comes in, fussing with something on the stove and staring like a deer caught in a pair of headlights.

“Seonghwa-hyung! You’re home so early! I thought you’d be… out longer.”

“I handled everything a bit sooner than I’d anticipated.” He toes off his shoes and slides into his house slippers before walking into the kitchen. He turns down one of the burners when he sees it start to bubble dangerously, then leans in and kisses Hongjoong, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

He’s not sure why he does it. Up until now, they have only kissed when Hongjoong is seeking comfort. Perhaps Seonghwa is the one seeking it, now. He kisses Hongjoong slow and sweet and he feels Hongjoong melt in his embrace, one hand coming up to rest on his chest while the other holds fast to the wooden spoon he’s got in his grip.

He knows exactly why he does it, though. When he pulls back and Hongjoong looks up at him with hooded eyes, letting out a trembling breath, he knows. He seems to be searching his face for something, but Seonghwa breaks the moment, glancing back over to the stove.

“What’s all this?”

Hongjoong stammers as he backs away a little. “I, uh. Well, you always get onto me for eating nothing but instant ramyun when I don’t leave the house so I thought I’d cook. For both of us.”

Seonghwa smiles fondly, then, kissing his forehead before taking the spoon from Hongjoong and turning to the stove.

“All right. I’ll help you, then. And we can talk after lunch.”

“Talk?” Hongjoong seems concerned for a moment, until he senses that Seonghwa is too calm for it to be anything awful. “Oh, the investigation?”

“After food, my love.” Seonghwa insists, kissing his cheek on his way to grab the rice cooker.

And so they cook, and they eat, and Hongjoong seems a little uneasy at first, but eventually he allows his tension bleed away and just enjoys their peaceful afternoon together. They wash the dishes together, too, and after the last one is dry, Hongjoong gives him a meaningful look.

Seonghwa presses his lips together and lets out a long breath through his nose. He doesn’t want to break this, this sweet contentment… but he has to.

“So, um. Your investigation. Did you… find anything?”

“I did find something, yes. I think, going forward, things won’t be as bad as they were.” Seonghwa says, trying to be vague. He wonders how little Hongjoong will accept to just… let it go. But that isn’t really fair on him, either.

Hongjoong gives him a dubious expression. “That’s it?”

“Sometimes it’s not like the movies.” Seonghwa tells him. “There’s not always a dramatic build-up or some nefarious plot and a bad guy cackling in his basement who I can take down. Sometimes it’s just a bunch of random happenstance and a few disturbed pranksters, some of which we never manage to find. Sometimes I just do my job and you do your job and we just… live our lives.”

“You sound like you’re telling me I watch too many Kdramas and Hollywood action films.” Hongjoong mumbles, pouting.

Seonghwa chuckles. “Maybe. Life isn’t always like that. Even when you live a life as glamorous as yours.”

“Still, I just. There’s gotta be more, right?” Hongjoong presses.

Seonghwa sighs. “What if there was? Would you want to know? Even if the answer was terrible? The worst thing you could imagine?”

Hongjoong swallows. “Seonghwa-hyung?”

“Perhaps I should know you well enough by now, but… I sometimes still struggle with things like this.” Seonghwa continues. “Mostly because others also believe they know what is best for you, and I wouldn’t want to disrespect their opinions, as your tenured colleagues and friends…”

“I’d want to know.” Hongjoong tells him, voice so so quiet. “But you already know that, I think.”

Seonghwa smiles softly, a melancholy thing, and nods. “Yes. I just worry what would come after. Confusion, betrayal, maybe even self-doubt, guilt…”

Hongjoong looks sure, now. “Seonghwa-hyung, if you knew something, I’d want you to tell me. If you know —”

“I know.” Seonghwa interrupts, and it is an answer in two forms. “I know, and I will. But before I do, I want you to know that I’ve already made the necessary arrangements. Everything is handled. And… I think you should sit.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath, lets it out. He looks as though his heart has swooped into his stomach, like he’s certain it’s about to be ripped straight out of his chest. He removes his borrowed apron, then sets it on the counter. He heads into the living room, to the little white leather chair that’s placed caddy-corner to the couch. He sits.

Seonghwa joins him in the living room, sitting on the side of the couch nearest him once he retrieves the manila folder from his bookshelf. He swallows, but he is calm. His air is gentle, wanting to handle the information—handle Hongjoong —with the utmost care. He takes a steadying breath.

“It was your CEO.” Seonghwa says, and the suddenness, the bluntness of it, clearly takes Hongjoong off-guard, steals all the air from his lungs in a rush.

“W-what?”

“I’ve compiled all the evidence to forward to the correct authorities and media outlets if necessary. He also admitted it to me when I confronted him, and revealed his motive.” Seonghwa explains, handing over that manila folder.

“It was because I came out, isn’t it? Without running it by the company, without his approval. He couldn’t just kill my contract because he has no fallback right now, and the fanbase was still strong afterward, but he lost a lot of investors.” Hongjoong surmises, flipping through the folder. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. “It was… what? Just small bit of revenge? To make me feel guilty? To make me think twice about dating publically?”

Seonghwa nods. “The only fitting punishment he could come up with. He hoped it would make you feel… forced, to leave the company. The industry.”

“Came close a couple times.” Hongjoong mumbles, and it is a confession, in some ways. “There were definitely days when I just… wanted it all to stop. When I felt like there wasn’t a point, because it feels like I can’t promote. I was almost convinced my dream wasn’t worth it anymore.”

“He underestimated your strength.” Seonghwa says softly.

“You helped.” Hongjoong tells him, smiling and leaning over to place a hand on his knee. “You help.”

Seonghwa covers Hongjoong’s hand with his own, squeezing gently.

“I hope I can help more with what comes next.”

Hongjoong lets out a sigh, edged with dread. “Go on.”

“We can go about this a few ways.” Seonghwa begins. “He’s agreed to step down as CEO in exchange for keeping this whole thing quiet and out of the courts.”

Hongjoong blinks, shock evident on his face. “You… you’re blackmailing him.”

“It’s… more like incentive.” Seonghwa corrects, but it’s honestly semantics. “In that case, I’ve secured you twenty percent ownership in KQ Entertainment under the CEO replacing him, and I’ve been assured that CEO does have your best interests in mind.”

Hongjoong starts at that. “O-ownership? Me? That’s…”

Unprecedented. For an idol just starting out like him, it’s unheard of, and a hell of a safety cushion. It’s also a message. Seonghwa knows damn well.

“I’d have secured you Korea herself were it within my power.” Seonghwa tells him, and his soft, earnest smile is every indication that he means it.

Hongjoong lets out a breath, overwhelmed. “So. Um, what? If I want him to be outed publically, we go through a whole messy lawsuit in the courts and I have to fight to even try to get any kind of justice served?”

“Sometimes the best victories are personal ones.” Seonghwa says, keeping his tone neutral. “But it is your choice. If you want the public to know, then I will send everything to the press. It’s your call.”

Hongjoong sighs, long and low and a little defeated. “I’d rather… keep this quiet. As much as I want people to know he was a vile jerk, I’d rather not have all that bad publicity on my name, too, you know?”

Seonghwa nods, motioning toward the folder with a meaningful glance. “You can always save it for a rainy day, too. Just in case.”

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows at him, scandalized. “Blackmailed and backstabbed? You really aren’t the straightlaced military man I thought you were. You’re ruthless.”

“Only when it comes to you, my love.” Seonghwa says, and it is an admission he doesn’t mind making. “He was also hoarding these.”

He steps out into the hall for a moment, producing a box from beyond the door. There are hundreds of letters, and some small padded envelopes. Several of them are decorated with artistic renderings of hearts, rainbows, glitter.

“Love letters. Fanmail. Support messages. Far more than he was actually giving you. They outnumber the hateful ones you received tenfold.” Seonghwa says, setting it on the coffee table. “There’s more. Piles of boxes. Whenever you’re ready for it.”

Tears spring to Hongjoong’s eyes. They are joyful ones, but there is regret there, too… for not knowing, perhaps even for doubting. Seonghwa wants to will them away more than anything. He moves to kneel in front of Hongjoong on the floor, cupping his cheeks gingerly and letting his thumbs brush away the tears when then begin to fall.

Hongjoong cries in his arms, but this time, at least, there is some measure of happiness at the root of it all.

***

It takes a few weeks for the transfers to occur, filled with a metric ton of paperwork and press conferences to boot. Seonghwa keeps Hongjoong from even having to make contact with his former CEO, which he is visibly thankful for. The replacement, he seems nice enough, and smiles genially when he shakes Hongjoong’s hand, claiming he is excited to work with him in the future.

Seonghwa has been doing a lot of work behind the scenes as well. The day after the official power shift, once he’s met with the new CEO and Eden to go over the details, he meets with Hongjoong to bring him up to speed.

“Who are all these guys?” Hongjoong asks as he flips through the files Seonghwa has given him; mostly profiles of older men dressed in sharp suits in their resume photos.

“All the new bodyguards and security personnel that KQ Entertainment will have on staff moving forward.” Seonghwa explains. “I thought you might want first pick.”

Hongjoong looks up, and there’s something about the look in his eyes that’s just a little heartbroken. “First pick—? But… you said you wouldn’t leave…”

“I’m not leaving.” Seonghwa assures, horrified that he somehow implied such.

“Then why…?”

Seonghwa frowns. “I’m sorry, was that presumptuous of me?”

“I guess it depends what you were presuming.”

Hongjoong has put him in on the spot. He wonders if he does it on purpose, because he likes watching him squirm. He most likely did something to deserve this. Probably.

“I presumed that it was best to handle the logistics now in case you wished to continue this… relationship, between us.” Seonghwa tries not to sound too cold when he says it. Whatever Hongjoong’s decision is, he’ll respect it… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish, doesn’t want . He also tries not to sound too hopeful when he says, “Especially in the case that you planned to go public about it.”

“Oh.” Hongjoong’s face visibly softens. “Do you… think we can? It’s not too soon?”

“That’s entirely your decision. You’re the one with the public image.” Seonghwa reminds him.

“You’ll have one too, if I do.” Hongjoong counters. “It’s your decision as much as it’s mine.”

Seonghwa shrugs amicably. “I’m comfortable with whatever you decide. I’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

Hongjoong snatches up his hand into his own, tangling their fingers.

“I don’t know, it’s just. A lot, right now. I might need some time to… you know. Process. Let stuff settle.”

Seonghwa nods.

“When the time is right for you, you’ll know, my love.” He tells him. “Just trust me.”

From the way Hongjoong smiles up at him, Seonghwa knows that he does.