Archive of Our Own ^beta

Like most things in Hongjoong’s life, it happens in his studio. He's there late one night, with Mingi, working on something he's picturing as a b-side for an album that ATEEZ may or may not be able to release. San had been trying to contact manufacturers, but all his leads were dead ends, so they ended up buying a bulk box of CDs from the department store and decided to burn them with their album. It's a janky idea, sure, but most of them are in community college, which means they're even broker than the regular college kid.

“Hey, Mingi. Do you think this sounds good?” It's a question he always asks Mingi, practically his second in command. When Jongho had told him he minored in music production that first day they met, well, to say Hongjoong took Mingi under his wing would be an understatement. He practically incubated the egg and helped it hatch. He unplugs his headphones and plays the snippet for him. It's a bare bones thing, he's kind of picturing Jongho singing over the rhythm he's set out. It's medium paced, R&B, different from the song Hongjoong already made for their band.

“Ooh,” Mingi hums, voice pitching higher because he always gets excited when it comes to music. “It sounds like a love song. You should mute the strings, then Seonghwa's voice would be beautiful over it.”

Hongjoong's brain screeches to a halt hearing the words ‘love’ and ‘Seonghwa’ in close proximity, despite the fact they're unrelated in what Mingi said. His hatred for Seonghwa runs two years deep, only reaching mild tolerance levels recently. He has absolutely no positive emotion for the man, so what is Mingi saying? Hongjoong would never let his character be slandered that way. He prides himself in his ability to hold grudges, particularly against one Park Seonghwa. For what, you may ask? Well, it’s been a long time, and he doesn't really remember, but he's sure whatever it was Seonghwa had done definitely deserved his ire. “What? What are you on about? Love song? No– No, definitely not. It's– not. And not Seonghwa, either, what? What?”

Mingi looks at him weirdly, and that must be saying something if it's Mingi. The guy lives and breathes ‘weird’. “It just kinda sounds like one. You don't think Seonghwa's voice would fit here?” Mingi leans over and replays the clip, the only person in their gaggle of eight who is fearless facing Hongjoong's wrath about touching his stuff, only because Hongjoong trusts him with it. “No, I think it's pretty Seonghwa.”

“Well, it's not,” Hongjoong huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “Definitely not for Seonghwa. At all. Ever,” he adds, because he's still stuck on the part where Mingi assumed it was a love song, and then proceeded to mention Seonghwa in the next sentence. “What makes you think it's a love song, anyways? I've never been in love. Can't make a song about that.”

“Well, I mean… You've got this slow drumline that kind of slides here, and then the acoustic major progression. It feels kind of sultry, like you're trying to seduce someone, I guess. Tango-esque?” Mingi shrugs, pointing to some elements on the computer screen in front of them as he explains.

Hongjoong removes everything Mingi pointed out. “There. It's not a love song anymore.” When he plays it back, it sounds bare and horrible, but that’s probably just because he’s still thinking of it as a love song, and not the fact he deleted what had made it sound good. He trashes the whole file, perfectionist in him winning out. He’ll make something better.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a love song. Why’d you delete it?” Mingi pouts, grabbing the mouse to try and recover the audio track. His efforts are inevitably subverted when Hongjoong slaps his hand away from the mouse.

“I don’t write love songs, that’s why. I’ll just start from scratch. Let’s be done for today,” he says, voice stern in a way that shows he won’t take no for an answer. Mingi eventually relents, shutting off the computer for him, but he looks a bit downtrodden. Hongjoong feels a little bit bad, because Mingi had just wanted to offer advice, probably hadn’t thought much of it when he suggested it sounded like a love song, or when he mentioned Seonghwa, but Hongjoong doesn’t say anything to him as they walk out.

“Hey guys,” San greets as he walks into the studio, much too cheerful for a Friday morning. Ever since their first gig, they had begun holding practices earlier on Fridays for longer periods of time. They're ‘getting serious’, Yunho would say, but Wooyoung would of course tell him they were always getting serious. The semantics don't matter much to Hongjoong; he's stuck for a longer period of time with seven other people, one of whom he can barely stand. Mingi and Yunho are the only ones truly keeping him sane, but even so, the two are prime agents of chaos. “I have great news!” San grins, pulling Mingi's drum stool away from his set and sitting on it. 

“Is this actually good news?” Yunho asks, sitting on the floor next to where San pulled out the stool. The two of them are always oddly close to each other. Hongjoong watches the way San uses the crown of Yunho’s head as an armrest and figures he doesn't really care what's going on with them. He's heard enough of his friend's romantical woes.

“Why does everyone say that to me when I tell them I have good news?” San whines, but by now, they're all immune to it. “It's good news! We're going on vacation!”

The silence that comes after San’s words is thick and tense. “Why would we go on vacation? We just started. We're working on making an album, and we still have some gigs lined up?” Wooyoung's the one who breaks the silence, of course. Wooyoung's the kind of guy who can't sit in silence for any longer than half a minute.

“So, I might not have been telling the full truth when I said we were getting gigs. We've got three songs so far, right? And like, a bunch of covers prepared. So I booked some gigs in the cities around us,” San’s grin is cheeky. “You know, since it's winter break. We'll all have time, right?”

Mingi's the first one to speak. “And this is– entirely official? Like, everything's already been prepared?”

“Yep! Which means no one can say no. Come on, it'll be fun and good exposure!” San tries to persuade them, turning down to face Yeosang, “don't you agree, Yeosang?”

“Uhh–” Yeosang stammers, clearly not expecting to be called out. “Um, yeah, I think it'll be fun. But what about hotels and stuff? We're broke.”

San just tuts, shaking his head. “Don't you worry about that. I've got everything covered! So, is everyone in? You can't really say no.”

And it's not like Hongjoong's doing anything for the winter break. His family isn't even in the country and unless his family came into sudden wealth, they definitely don't have the money between either of them to pay for a plane ticket. 

“I think it will be good team bonding,” Seonghwa says with a smile, his unfairly beautiful eyes sparkling. He's probably the most nerdy about the band, even considering Wooyoung. Not that Hongjoong really notices anything about Seonghwa, but it's hard to miss his thinly-veiled excitement when they do anything together as a band, or how he had looked fresh off their first stage. But team bonding? Please.

“Team bonding,” Hongjoong scoffs, laughing a bit to himself. Like he's going to bond at all with Seonghwa. Hongjoong has perfectly mastered the art of introversion; he spends time with Mingi, San, and Yunho every couple of days and the rest of it recharging his social battery. He's got no space in his schedule for team bonding, especially not with Seonghwa. He just makes their music, all a bit detached from the band itself.

“Don't diss it until you try it. I know it's winter and your ice heart will be living its frozen dreams, but who knows what will happen?” Seonghwa fires back, always easy to rile up. The only thing Hongjoong likes about the man is that he's got so many shiny buttons all over him and Hongjoong loves pressing them. 

“Why are you acting like it's just me? You don't like me just as much as I don't like you,” He points out, but Seonghwa doesn't get a chance to respond before someone else cuts them off.

“Wooyoung, I need to talk to you,” Mingi says loudly, voice rising above his and Seonghwa's outbreak before it can get worse. See, this is why Hongjoong said Mingi and Yunho keep him sane. 

Jongho makes gagging noises as Wooyoung and Mingi get up to leave the room. Hongjoong agrees with the sentiment, but there's something itching under his skin that tells him Wooyoung and Mingi aren't leaving for something like that.

“Wait, so, Seonghwa and Hongjoong, you guys are in, right?” San asks.

“Do we even have a choice?” Hongjoong grumbles, getting up off the floor to go over to his desk. He pulls his headphones on and blocks out the world.

At least, until he gets a notification. Hongjoong really regrets syncing his phone to his computer, because now every message he gets on his phone gets sent to his computer too.

#yungijoong

11:47 Yunho

hongjoong

when do we get to know the beef with seonghwa

i feel like weve reached an adequate level of friendship with you

11:47 Hongjoong

i don't eat beef with seonghwa

11:48 Yunho

my guy you are 25 please be normal

we get it ur vegan

why do you and seonghwa hate each other :(

11:48 Hongjoong

why do you wanna know

11:48 Yunho

bcs im ur best friend

if mingi were here and not kissing his boyfie he would want to know too

11:49 Hongjoong

do you wanna know the truth

11:49 Yunho

YES

11:51 Hongjoong

band practice starts soon good luck im working on a song don't interrupt me turning this chat and our dms on dnd

11:51 Yunho

:C

And this is why he also said Yunho and Mingi were agents of chaos, because when they're not keeping him sane, they're driving him over the edge. 

They've got three days until they're slated to leave for San’s ‘vacation’. Hongjoong had been tempted to spend those three days entirely off the grid and recharging his social battery in the safety of his locked bedroom, but the world is constantly working against him. Obviously. College for him is out for the semester, but his friend from the private college across the city called him up and said his big final showcase is tonight, and he needed someone to do runway makeup for the models.

He'd been tempted to get into fashion designing or go into a cosmetology school, but the former had not been offered at community and the latter was expensive for specialized training. He'd said fuck it and gotten into music, the only creative major offered at his community college, because the only thing Hongjoong had known at the age of 23 about his future was that he would sooner rot than enter STEM.

When he gets there, makeup bag in hand, Hongjoong's honestly surprised at how busy it is. A college-kid run fashion show? Who the hell is eager enough to see that? “Hongjoong!” Someone calls, and when he finally pinpoints which direction the voice is coming from, he recognizes him as the reason why he's even here, Taeyong. “Great, great, you're here. I'm so grateful, I'll pay you, okay?” 

Hongjoong, normally, would just shake his head and tell him he didn't need any payment. But Taeyong goes to a private school, so he's probably got the money to spare, and Hongjoong's going to need it on their vacation. “Where do you want me to start?” He says instead of denying the money.

“Right. Sorry, I'm a bit all over the place. Everything is everywhere. The theme for the night is light and airy, because all our models have very striking features, but I wanted to show off a different side of them. So make them look cute, okay? We'll start you over here with– hold on. Hey, Johnny! Why is no one in their outfits?” Taeyong yells at a tall man across the backstage area. Must be someone else helping Taeyong, or someone who helped design.

“Some of them are! We had a problem, one of the models ripped the closure on the back, so I had to sew it back in and that backed everything up,” Johnny whines, which, come on, you're six-foot-something, don't whine. “Here, uh… Oh, you must be the MUA,” Johnny finally notices him, grinning. Okay, maybe he takes back what he said. Johnny's the kind of guy you don't really stay mad at.

“Yes, he is, and he can't work without someone already in their outfit, hello? Can you bring him someone?” Taeyong asks, effortlessly dumping Hongjoong off in Johnny's care. “I've gotta go, other things await. Thank you so much, Joongie!” 

Right, well, that's the Taeyong he knows. “Here, come with me. We've got some vanities set up over here, you just wait and I'll bring you someone to paint,” Johnny winks, yet again effortlessly dumping him off by the vanities while he disappears. Damn, are all fashion majors super flakey? Just disappear on you and come back God knows when?

“Thanks, Johnny. Hope everything goes well,” The person who must be the model says, but that voice is definitely familiar. Hongjoong looks up from where he's unpacking his makeup bag, and yep. The world constantly works against him. “Hongjoong?” The person asks.

“Seonghwa,” he groans, running a hand down his face and then busying himself with the rest of the unpacking, not even bothering to check out his outfit. “If I had known you were here, I wouldn't have helped out. Just sit down, I'll make you up as quick as I can, so we don't have to be here for that long.”

“You're the one who always exacerbates things,” Seonghwa bites back, and with every word he says, Hongjoong's more and more tempted to just walk out. Honestly, Hongjoong's not even surprised Seonghwa's in the modeling scene. It fits him, and Taeyong's certainly right, he does have striking features. Striking features that make Hongjoong want to strike him, of course.

“Yeah, right. Just don't speak while I'm doing your makeup. Did you bring your own foundation and concealer?” Hongjoong asks, finally turning around to face him and- okay. That's definitely not a Park Seonghwa you see everyday. His hair is freshly dyed pink and he's wearing a purple blouse that drapes over him perfectly, the whole thing sheer enough that if Hongjoong looks hard enough– which he's not– you can see his nipples. 

“I don’t own any makeup,” Seonghwa shrugs from where he's taken a seat in the chair in front of the vanity mirror.

“What?!” Hongjoong asks incredulously because, “You have a face like that and you don't own any makeup?” Seonghwa stares at him. It takes a moment for the words to register in Hongjoong's head, and realizes that okay, it didn't come out the way he wanted to. He may not like the guy, but he's not an asshole . “I didn't mean it like that. God, I meant, you've got like, the perfect face. I thought it was makeup and your makeup was just always on top notch. Ugh.”

Seonghwa just continues to stare at him. The silence settles in for so long that Hongjoong's about to toss his makeup materials at Seonghwa and tell him to do it himself, but his palettes were expensive, so he would never. “I feel like that compliment is a bit backhanded, but thanks.”

“I didn't mean it that way,” he groans, because the words he wants to say always end up coming out too harsh. “Just let me do your makeup. I don't have any foundation in your skin tone, but it's not like you need it anyways.” Hongjoong pulls out his eyeshadow palette, might as well start with what he finds fun, since they're definitely skipping over contour. Someone like Seonghwa doesn't need a more defined jaw, and they're going for the cute and soft look anyways. “Close your eyes.”

For once, there's no backtalk. Seonghwa shuts his eyes, and Hongjoong comes to stand in front of him, and then– “My legs are pretty long, do you want to stand in between so you don't have to stretch your arm as much?”

Okay. “No. This is fine. Keep your eyes closed.” Yet despite his words, Seonghwa slumps in his seat a bit more, so he can spread his legs wider. What the fuck is wrong with men. Hongjoong takes a deep breath, shaking his arms out because he really cannot be pissed while doing Seonghwa's makeup. If he just detaches himself from the situation, he can pretend it's not even Seonghwa sitting in the chair. This is for Taeyong. He starts with a light pink, packing it on his brush and putting it on the inner half of Seonghwa's eyelids. He braces his hand against his cheekbone to stabilize himself, and Seonghwa must be used to this, because he doesn't flinch at all.

Hongjoong loves doing makeup. He loves embracing his own androgyny, doesn't care if people think it's girly. He usually does his nails too, but he hasn't gotten them filled in a while. What Hongjoong doesn't love about makeup is how close he is to Seonghwa's face. So close that he notices just how long Seonghwa's eyelashes are. Wow. Seriously, his proportions are crazy. He looks down to check out Seonghwa's outfit again, but he's pretty sure that Taeyong could've dressed him in something absolutely horrendous and Seonghwa would've still pulled it off. Which is annoying. 

Fuck, he's getting distracted again. Hongjoong can be professional about this. He just needs to pretend he's not focusing so hard on Seonghwa's face of all faces. It's easy enough when Seonghwa shuts up, like he is now, complacently letting Hongjoong apply the makeup.

“Open your mouth,” Hongjoong demands, wielding a lipgloss wand in one hand, moving the other to prop up Seonghwa's face underneath his chin. He's obviously not focusing on their physical contact. It's a necessary part of the makeup process; he already put on the blush and highlighter, so he can't touch Seonghwa's cheeks and risk ruining it. Obviously. 

Seonghwa purses his lips in response, like he's going to give someone a smooch. Jesus, he said he's never done any makeup before, but surely you'd have at least a little bit of knowledge? Hongjoong runs his thumb over Seonghwa's lips, smoothing out the way they're pursed and then pressing his thumb into the corner of Seonghwa's mouth to part them. “Like this, not like whatever you were doing,” he criticizes, finally taking the gloss wand and running it over his lips. 

It finally hits him as he's screwing the wand back into the tube that he basically just stuck his fingers in Seonghwa's mouth. Seonghwa's looking at him wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights, and Hongjoong wishes the embarrassment crawling up his spine would disappear. “Smack your lips together and rub them around a bit, and then you're done.” 

He has to watch, just to make sure Seonghwa does it right. Which may have been a bad decision. Hongjoong laid the gloss on a bit too thick, so on the parting of his lips, there's a thin string of gloss between them. Seonghwa's tongue darts out to lick it up, and that's just– Hongjoong takes a deep breath. “Wow, you're really good at this makeup thing,” Seonghwa gasps, looking at himself in the mirror now that Hongjoong's not blocking his view, pulling at his eyelids to see the full eyeshadow look and tilting his head to watch the way the highlighter catches the light. 

Hongjoong tries not to preen at the compliment– it's a compliment from Park Seonghwa for fuck's sake, he shouldn't be so delighted– but he's prideful above all else. “Thank you. Now get out of my chair, so I can get the other models.”

“Wait,” Seonghwa pauses, and suddenly he's right behind Hongjoong, almost a bit too close for comfort. “Are you watching the show after?”

Hongjoong turns around just so he can give him a squinty-eyed glare, but he's caught offguard by just how close he is. Definitely too close for comfort. Hongjoong takes a step back, but he's met with the corner of the vanity. “No? Why would I? And take a step back.”

Seonghwa's eyes widen a bit as he stumbled backwards, like he hadn't realized how close he'd gotten. This fucking guy. “Sorry. Just thought you'd stop by. We are bandmates, after all.”

The fact that Seonghwa's apologizing to him is undercut by the jab at him following it. “Are any of the others even here?”

“No,” He admits on an exhale, but he doesn't give Hongjoong the chance to respond. “I'll go get the next model for you, so you can leave.”

Hongjoong ends up sitting in the audience, watching the runway. He doesn't know why, he's obviously not anywhere near being friends with Seonghwa, but he's already here. And he wants to see his handiwork underneath the lights. 

When Seonghwa comes out on the runway, he's nearly a completely different person. His makeup looks good, of course, highlight shimmering as the spotlight follows him. He's got a killer gaze on, the opposite of his outfit, until his eyes sweep across the crowd at the end of the runway. Seonghwa's eyes meet his, and the icy look melts completely into something unrecognizably fond. What the fuck is going on. Hongjoong pulls his eyes away from Seonghwa, trying to focus on literally anything besides the way he's being looked at right now, but looking down Seonghwa's body gives him a nice view of his chest in the sheer blouse he's in, and his long legs. Fuck. Fuck. Seonghwa begins the walk back in a perfect sashay, but Hongjoong's already doomed.

When he gets into his car after the runway show, specifically avoiding seeing Seonghwa on the way out, he's already dialing Mingi. He needs a distraction from whatever the hell just happened tonight. The phone rings once, twice, and he's about to hang up and dial Yunho when Mingi finally picks up.

“Hello? Do you even know what time it is?” Mingi's voice crackles out, and it's clear even through the bad quality that he just woke up.

Hongjoong checks the time on his dash. “It's only eleven p.m.? Why are you already asleep?”

“Well, I'm not anymore. Ugh, hold on.” There's some rustling from Mingi's side, and then a quiet, hushed, “Sorry, baby,” from Mingi that Hongjoong's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear.

“You're at Wooyoung's?” Hongjoong asks, though it shouldn't be that surprising. Considering the amount of times he'd been woken up just to bare witness to Mingi's forlorn speeches about how in love with Wooyoung he is, it's no wonder the two are spending the night.

“... Yeah, but it's okay. What's up?” Mingi asks, the sound of a door shutting coming through the line.

“Come over, I'm working on something and could use your help.”

“Wh– I just told you I'm at Wooyoung's?”

“And you said it was okay!” Hongjoong defends, putting the phone on speaker so he can begin driving home. “You know me. I get these strokes of inspiration, and they just can't wait,” he tells him, which is not exactly the truth, but he'll be damned if he's going to tell Mingi what actually is going through his head. He's been facing the worst creative block ever, and apparently seeing Seonghwa that night was enough to fix it.

“I meant it was okay for you to be calling! Ugh, way to interrupt my date night.”

“Oh, God, you better have some clothes on while you're calling me. Actually– don't say anything. Spare me literally every detail. Just come over, you'll have enough time with Wooyoung when we go on San’s vacation.”

The line is silent for a moment, and then Mingi groans, long and drawn out. “Let me go talk to Wooyoung,” he says. The sound of the door clicking open can be heard, more rustling, and then hushed voices. “Hey, baby. I have to go, something important with Hongjoong … no it can't wait. I'm sorry. I'll be back here in the morning to make- … You what? … Yeah, I– I love you too.” Does Mingi realize Hongjoong can hear everything they're saying?

“Sometime tonight would be nice, Mingi,” Hongjoong simpers, which probably isn't the nicest thing to do since Mingi shrieks at the sound of Hongjoong's voice over the phone. The guy has an amazing ability to forget literally everything around him when Wooyoung's near him.

“Hongjoong, you scared the shit out of me, fuck you. Goodnight, Young-ah. Hey, by the way, I'm gonna pick up Yunho and bring him with me. If I'm suffering with you, we can all suffer. Have a little pity party in your flat,” Mingi huffs over the jingling of his car keys. “I'll see you in, like, 20.”

Mingi and Yunho arrive at Hongjoong’s at 11:45 hefting two bags of Chinese food between them. Hongjoong's already working on his song; after the disaster with Mingi and the love song a couple of weeks ago, he'd been careful to make this song sound absolutely nothing like the other. It's a great way to shake off the thoughts of that evening– Seonghwa in that sheer shirt, Hongjoong running his fingers over Seonghwa's mouth, Seonghwa licking his lips– okay, maybe it's not working so well. Fuck.

“You look like shit,” Yunho tells him as he drops a paper box of fried rice next to Hongjoong at his desk. 

“Thanks for stating the obvious. It's nearly midnight and I got home thirty minutes ago, I don't just look like shit, I feel like it,” Hongjoong groans, letting his head hit the desk as Yunho unboxed the fried rice and unwraps a pair of chopsticks for him. “And this song is kicking my fucking ass. That's why I invited Mingi.”

“And ruined my date night,” Mingi reminds him as if he could forget. “But honestly, I've gotta thank you, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong almost doesn't want to know the reason why, but when he risks a glance over in Mingi's direction, he's practically glowing with happiness, and Hongjoong is his best friend above all else. “Why's that?”

“Wooyoung told him he loved him for the first time during your call,” Yunho exclaims before Mingi can say anything, because Yunho's always been a romantic and had loved hearing Mingi's Wooyoung-related woes. 

But, “I don't get why that's such a big deal,” Hongjoong mutters, unplugging his headphones so the other two can hear what he's working on while he's working on it, “but congratulations.”

“You'll understand when you get your shit resolved with Seonghwa– ow!” Yunho's laughter gets cut off by the sound of a harsh smack through the room. When Hongjoong looks over, Yunho's rubbing the back of his neck and Mingi's shaking out his hand.

“What the fuck does that mean? Me and Seonghwa? No, I can't stand him. He's too…” Hongjoong thinks of how his eyes looked on the runway, slitted and intense, and how they looked off runway, wide and embarrassed. Hongjoong thinks of how his lips looked, how the highlighter looked so perfect on him, but also how he looked perfectly beautiful without all the makeup. “He's too perfect, it's so fucking frustrating.”

“‘Too perfect’, oh my God, what is wrong with you?” Mingi scoffs, shoving his shoulder into Hongjoong's shoulder.

Yunho sits down on the floor next to Hongjoong's chair, Mingi on the other side, kebab skewer in hand. “He's worse than the stories I heard from Yeosang about how Wooyoung was with you.”

“Wait, Yeosang told you stories about what Wooyoung said about me–?”

“I feel like we're getting sidetracked from the original purpose of this hangout!” Hongjoong yells, cutting off their discussion. “Yunho, do you think you can play this line? I'm trying to make our songs harder. People will like it more if they're technically difficult,” he says, even though he knows Yunho's more than capable. Yunho and Mingi just need something else to talk about in order to distract them from the conversation they were having that he's not really thinking about, obviously.

Hongjoong plays the clip, turning the volume up on the speaker. Yunho stands to watch the white line move through the tracks on the screen, and when Hongjoong stops it, he's grinning like a fool. “What? What is it? Don't be weird.”

“Hongjoong,” he starts, voice gentle like he's about to break bad news. “Are you sure you're not in love with someone?”

There's something wrong with his friends. Has Cupid shot both of them through the brains or something? “What is it with you and love today? No, obviously not? And what does that have to do with literally anything?”

“It's just… This sounds like a love song, Joongie,” Yunho says. A quick glance over to Mingi shows him with his hand pressed to his mouth trying not to laugh. What the fuck? He'd literally made this song as different as possible from what Mingi had called it a love song.

“I don't write love songs? I will never write a love song. What even makes this a love song?”

“You know, just the vibes. I'm not in music production, I don't know all that,” Yunho shrugs, but he's still smiling at Hongjoong. “You know we won't judge. We didn't judge Mingi,” Yunho nudges him with his elbow.

“There's nothing to judge!” Hongjoong yells, voice shrilly as he pushes Yunho away. Of course, Yunho starts shoving him back. In their little tousle, the box of fried rice on the corner of the desk gets knocked over by a flailing Hongjoong elbow, tipping over right into Mingi's lap. 

“What the fuck?!” Mingi stands quickly, which just ends up spilling the rest of it onto the floor in a sad waste of good takeout fried rice. At least it distracts Yunho, who's now too busy laughing at Mingi's misfortune than Hongjoong's ‘love song’.

Hongjoong agonizes over the song for the rest of the days leading up to the vacation, and then he agonizes some more, all the way up until Mingi sends him a ‘ten mins away’ text, and he hasn't packed anything. Fuck.

Hongjoong's ever grateful that he never actually has to go on stage, because the outfits they picked out for the performing members all have so many different pieces to them that he's sure he would have forgotten an integral piece in his haste to pack enough supplies. By the time he gets everything packed, he's got about six different texts from his friends asking him to hurry up. 

It's by some kind of miracle that he gets his suitcase down the stairs, since the elevator in his apartment flat has been broken for years, and even when it had worked, it was so slow that the stairs were quicker. “Sorry, sorry. I lost track of time,” he says to Mingi, who's sitting in the driver's seat with the window rolled down before he can say anything to him.

“I can obviously see that. I was racing Yunho, but now we're gonna lose,” Mingi whines, “Hurry up and put your suitcase in the back. Go, quick, hurry, you can sit in the back with Jongho and Seonghwa and fight over who has to sit in the middle.”

“Why is Jongho sitting in the backseat?” Hongjoong asks, hefting the suitcase into the back of Mingi's sedan that's shoved full with way too much luggage. “Wait, you're driving Seonghwa too?” Shit. He was fine sharing Mingi's cramped ass sedan with Seonghwa when he was drunk out of his mind but sober? And after that runway show? 

“Because Wooyoung stole my shotgun privileges,” Jongho tells him, pushing open the side door and getting out, gesturing to the middle seat. “You're the smallest, so you get middle.”

“Hey, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa smiles at him like they're friends. What's his deal? And what's Jongho's deal? Seriously, did he have to be the last stop? Shouldn't he get best-friend priorities? 

“I’m literally 172cm, Mingi just makes everyone else look short! I'm older than you, sit in the middle.” Hongjoong groans, ignoring Seonghwa's greeting in favor of arguing with Jongho. If he has to sit in the middle, he'll be basically knocking elbows with Seonghwa the entire time. Ugh.

Wooyoung turns around in the shotgun seat to give a glare at Hongjoong and Jongho. “Both of you just get in the car. If we get to the hotel first, we get to decide room arrangements instead of Yunho deciding,” Wooyoung adds as encouragement.

The thought of Yunho picking his room after the late-night emergency studio session actually makes him shiver, so he sucks it the fuck up, and decides sitting next to Seonghwa for a car ride is less painful than sharing a room. Jongho's absolutely delighted, sliding in next to him and rolling down the window as soon as they get back on the road. 

About twenty minutes into the car ride, Jongho's got the window back up because they're on the freeway and he's resting his head against it, Mingi's driving with one hand, the other hand moving from holding Wooyoung's to resting on his thigh or over his shoulder or around his bicep; unfortunately for Hongjoong, he's sitting in the middle with a perfect view of Mingi's inability to not be touching Wooyoung in some way. There's nervous energy emanating from every single movement Mingi makes. As for Seonghwa, well-

“Hongjoong,” he whispers, nudging him in the side with his elbow, which was absolutely unnecessary considering Mingi's car is much too small for all of them, and they've been bumping into each other this whole car ride. “Thanks for watching my runway.”

Oh. “Right,” Hongjoong says, not really sure how else to respond.

“I know you said you weren't going to, but it means a lot to me that you stayed anyway.” Seonghwa looks at him earnestly. Hongjoong can't meet his gaze after having seen the intensity of it up close when doing his makeup. Even when Seonghwa was looking at him from afar, when Hongjoong was just a face in the crowd, it was so strong. 

“Why didn't you invite anyone else?” Hongjoong asks instead of traveling down the lesser worn path and giving in to his mind’s apparent obsession with Seonghwa's eyes.

It seems to catch him off-guard, because there's no response for a moment, until, “I don't know. It never came up. Didn't want you guys to think I was a stuck-up, primadonna model, or something.”

“Seriously? You? Primadonna? Please.” Hongjoong scoffs, unable to hide his shock at the confession, because if Seonghwa thinks he's a primadonna, then what does that make Hongjoong? A priss? When he dares a look over at Seonghwa, the earnesty is gone, replaced by that icy-cold stare he had when he was walking down the runway before he saw Hongjoong. 

“If you're going to say that you always saw me as one, fucking can it,” Seonghwa whispers to him and then he's making a show of untangling wired earbuds from his pocket, and it's here that Hongjoong realizes that despite being a lyricist, whenever it comes to Seonghwa, his words seem to fail him.

“No, I didn't mean it like that, fucking hell. I see you in the band, you work so fucking hard, and you love it so much. You're just as nerdy about the band as Wooyoung is, and you help Jongho with your harmonies, and when you sing, it's just– it makes me want to write more. I want my words to be sung by you,” Hongjoong rambles. He can't just let Seonghwa sit there and think Hongjoong actually believes he's such a horrible guy, and it's only after the entire car falls silent– even Wooyoung and Mingi's chatter dies down– does he realize what he was rambling on about. “Mingi, can you please turn up the radio?” His voice is strained when he asks, since he just embarrassed himself in front of everybody in this car because of Seonghwa, who's just staring at him.

Mingi's gripping tightly onto Wooyoung's wrist and doesn't seem to want to let go to raise the radio volume, so Wooyoung, tossing Hongjoong a wink over his shoulder, raises the radio high.

Despite everything, they arrive at the hotel first. It's a cheap one, but most of them are community college kids, so it's not like they can complain. Jongho and Mingi are up at the front desk, trying to talk to the attendant and get their rooms sorted out, but it doesn't seem to be going well. Mingi's tapping his foot too quickly and his credit card against the desk, and Jongho's starting to use his hands to gesture around. 

He's sitting with his earbuds in next to Wooyoung and Seonghwa, or at least, he was until Wooyoung tugs on the wire to pull them out. “What were you guys talking about in the car?” Wooyoung questions, batting his eyes innocently, but Hongjoong knows better.

“Nothing that concerns you, demon.” 

“I just ran into Hongjoong the other day, we were talking about it.” Seonghwa thankfully gets the hint to keep their conversation to themselves, even though Wooyoung probably heard all of it and is just trying to force Hongjoong to relive his embarrassment.

“It sounded like more than just that,” Wooyoung phishes, leaning into Hongjoong to try and pry information out of him. “Come on, don't I get to be privy to your drama?”

“I've already told you, my life is not your soap opera,” Seonghwa sounds exasperated, making use of how Wooyoung's looking at Hongjoong to flick Wooyoung in the forehead. Wooyoung whines, holding a hand to his head in a pout.

“I'm trying to be a good friend, and help you guys work through your miscommunication, ” Wooyoung says like it's incredibly obvious and not just a bluff to get information out of them because he's nosey.

“Why is everyone so damn obsessed with Seonghwa and me?” Hongjoong wonders aloud, because first it was Mingi, and then it was Yunho, and now it's Wooyoung.

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa's voice is a bit flat, the way it gets when he's interested in something but trying to appear like he doesn't really care. Not that Hongjoong recognizes that, or anything, and he's realizing it's a mistake to say his thoughts out loud like he just did, because how the fuck is he going to explain to Seonghwa that his best friends are hallucinating a romcom whose stars are the two of them?

So, he settles on saying nothing. It works out for him, because Mingi and Jongho are coming over to their table, Mingi holding his phone to his ear, and the both of them looking like they just got run over by several buses. “Do you guys want the good news or the bad news?” Jongho asks.

“Why does there have to be bad news?” Wooyoung complains, but Hongjoong honestly expected it. Cheap hotels always come with a drawback.

At Wooyoung's non-answer, Seonghwa pipes up with a, “Bad news, definitely the bad news first.”

Before Jongho can start, Mingi behind yelling way too loud for a hotel lobby. “Fucking finally you pick up your damn phone, Jesus! I must've called you like twenty times. No, I don't care that you're–”

“Mingi! Go outside!” Jongho shoves at his shoulder. Mingi doesn't even acknowledge it, just keeps cussing at whoever he's on the phone with all the way out the door.

Wooyoung lets out a low whistle, “Is it that bad? Never seen him pissed like that.”

Jongho stares at Wooyoung, like he's trying to convey him a message through his eyes, but Wooyoung doesn't seem to get it.

“Can you tell us the news, now?” Hongjoong groans, trying to hurry this whole thing along. The sooner he can get unpacked, the better. They have a gig at a bar near the hotel tonight, and Hongjoong would love a nap sometime today before it. 

“Right. The bad news is that it was too expensive for all eight of us to stay here. We were going to get four rooms each with two, but the lady gave us a quote that was like– a total scam. But don't worry!” Jongho assures them, because Hongjoong's pretty sure the three of them are sporting some confused faces. If the eight of them can't stay here, where the fuck are they going to go? Hongjoong is not sleeping in Mingi's sedan. “We told her the rest of our party is going to just go to a different hotel and we'll use two rooms, so we paid for us five. Here's the catch though, we're pretty sure if the rest of us just walk in and look like they know where they're going, the staff won't stop them, because how are they supposed to recognize everyone who stays here? So, we're just gonna split four and four into two rooms.”

Oh, so this really is a vacation from hell. Thanks, San. Hongjoong could deal with one roommate, but three? “What if it doesn't work?” He asks, maybe a bit hopeful.

“It'll work.” Jongho says with finality. 

Their plan ends up working, somehow. Hongjoong can almost admire how their dumbassery pays off, except for how the roommate arrangement ends up working out. It's Yeosang, San, Jongho, and Yunho to one room and Wooyoung, Mingi, Seonghwa, and him to the other. Hongjoong had been so close to having Yunho instead of Seonghwa, but Seonghwa had said it would be easier if their room arrangements were similar to the car arrangements. And Mingi had lifted his eyebrows at Yunho and said, “Don't you wanna room with San?” And that had been that.

What they didn't account for was the beds. Wooyoung and Mingi were fine sharing for clear reasons, but Hongjoong had balked and said he'd rather sleep on the floor. So they set him up on the couch, obviously. It's not that bad; they're only here for two nights, but the rooms really aren't big enough for four people. Hongjoong's got his laptop resting on his crossed legs, getting increasingly frustrated at his shitty trackpad that seems to hate tracking his movements. He has no fucking clue where Mingi and Wooyoung went, but Seonghwa's in the room messing with his hair, already dressed for their stage.

“Why are you ready so early?” Hongjoong can't help but ask, even as he's trying to work on his laptop.

Seonghwa startles, knocking over his phone that he was using as a mirror and failing to catch it in his hands. Hongjoong does not laugh at him. Okay, he definitely does. There's a faint blush on Seonghwa's ears from embarrassment when he turns to face Hongjoong, and seriously, this man's duality should be a crime. He looks all sheepish with his perfectly proportioned face yet devastatingly handsome in his leather jacket and black tank top, black flowy pants that swish when he turns and studded butch choker with an o-ring in the front. Hongjoong catches himself staring, and when he brings his gaze back up from the choker to Seonghwa's face, the embarrassment is replaced by a confident grin. “I'm not fully ready, I still have to do my hair,” Seonghwa says in defense of himself. “Since you did my makeup for the runway, can you do my hair for the stage?”

Since when are him and Seonghwa at the point of friendship where they can ask each other things? Yet, for some reason, Hongjoong's setting his laptop aside and saying, “If you've got the stuff for it.”

It's how they end up in their crappy en suite bathroom, Hongjoong sitting on the counter and Seonghwa standing in between his legs. Hongjoong can't believe that he's letting Seonghwa stand there, after he'd been so adamant in not wanting to stand in between Seonghwa's legs when doing his makeup. He thought it'd be easier for his neck this way, but he didn't realize how hard it'd be for his focus. Seonghwa's so fucking close and he's so fucking distracting. Hongjoong's just curling the front of his bangs, because his pink hair looks fine as-is. It doesn't take long, or at least it shouldn't, but Hongjoong takes his time because his focus can't stop drifting. 

When he finishes, he leans back to survey his work. Seonghwa looks good, of course, he could rock anything, but now with him in full-view, Hongjoong makes a horrible realization. He never would have noticed, had he not been looking so intently at Seonghwa's face, but Seonghwa lets his tongue dart out and lick his lips, and it brings Hongjoong's attention to his lips, and he notices that he's wearing lipgloss. Suddenly, his brain is back to the runway, when Hongjoong had run his fingers over Seonghwa's mouth, pressing into his lips and watching the lipgloss string together on the part of his lips. Fuck.

Seonghwa's looking over Hongjoong's shoulder to his reflection in the mirror. “You're good at hair, too. Thanks so much,” He smiles gratefully, Hongjoong zeroing in on the way his mouth moves to form the words. He needs Seonghwa to move away, turn around, do something. “What was that?” Seonghwa asks, and oh fuck, did Hongjoong accidentally say something?

“Huh?” He asks dumbly, tearing his eyes away from Seonghwa's lips to settle on his eyes, which isn't much better, so he tries to focus his gaze elsewhere, but Seonghwa's everywhere, and secretly, he doesn't want to look away.

“Nothing,” He grins, catlike. “Did you notice I'm wearing lipgloss? I really liked the one you put on me.”

Is Seonghwa teasing him? He has to be. Hongjoong's focus drops to his lips again. “Did you want it?”

“What, you to notice, or your lipgloss?” Seonghwa asks, leaning in just a bit. The silver ring of his choker catches the fluorescent light.

“Lipgloss,” He says, sounding breathless. Fuck, what is wrong with him? Last time they were this close, Hongjoong told Seonghwa to step back. Those same words aren't coming to him anymore. 

Seonghwa hums. “It depends, have you tried on your lipgloss before?”

Hongjoong shakes his head, all the words he could say have left him. His brain feels like it's on fire. Why is Seonghwa teasing him like this, so suddenly? He's used to their bickering, the push and pull, not whatever this is. Not Seonghwa leaning over him, playing him like this.

“Then I don't want it,” He says simply. Hongjoong's mind whirls with the implications. His fingers twitch, and all he wants right now is to give his hands something to do, like working on his song. Or tugging Seonghwa closer.

He gets to do neither of those, because the bathroom door opens and in comes Mingi, Wooyoung close behind him. “Oh, shit. What the fuck?” Mingi says when he walks in. 

The moment, if it can be called that, breaks and Seonghwa's scrambling away from Hongjoong with the same embarrassment he had before when he'd dropped his phone. “Why didn't you knock?” Seonghwa breathes.

“Sorry! I just… needed some privacy for something,” Mingi explains but he's being vague and that's not really helping.

“You didn't knock on the door because you wanted to come in here for some alone time with Wooyoung,” is what Hongjoong translates Mingi's explanation as. 

“No!” Both of them shout at the same time. Wooyoung, from behind Mingi, looks incredibly frustrated. “Weren't you two doing the same thing? Geez,” Wooyoung groans, then, “ Please get out. It's important. Seriously!”

Neither Seonghwa nor him budge. What's the point? Wooyoung's thinking whatever he's thinking, and Hongjoong can't even truly focus on the situation because he still feels the phantom warmth of Seonghwa being so close to him. 

Mingi's phone rings, and Wooyoung's urgency dials up. “Come on, I won't even mention anything to anyone else about what I saw if you do!” 

And, admittedly, it's a good offer. Wooyoung looks desperate enough for him to stick to his word– he didn't realize how clingy him and Mingi are until they're begging him and Seornghwa to get out of their shared bathroom for some privacy together. Now that he's looking at it, Wooyoung's desperation and Mingi's phone still ringing, it seems deeper than trying to catch alone time. “Is everything okay?”

“Just get out!” Wooyoung shrieks, and so they do.

The bathroom door slams shut and locked behind the two of them. Seonghwa stares at the wood of the door. “That was weird.”

“No fucking shit,” Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but at least his mind isn't thinking of Seonghwa's lips anymore, and he's back in the room with his laptop so he can get work done. 

“Maybe we should be worried,” Seonghwa says, coming to sit down next to Hongjoong on the couch even though Hongjoong didn't give him permission to. It doesn't bother him as much as he expected it to.

“I wonder how you ever thought someone would assume you're a primadonna for modeling when you get worried about people so easily like that,” Hongjoong grunts, but he has to admit it; he's a bit worried too. On the surface, it seems harmless, but if Hongjoong thinks hard about it, there's something weird between Mingi and Wooyoung. He resolves to ask Mingi about it later, maybe with Yunho in the room because Yunho's cute enough to convince Mingi to open up, but for now? After what he's dubbing as the hairstyling incident, Hongjoong's feeling particularly motivated to keep working on his song.

“You know, it's weird when you're nice to me,” Seonghwa tells him instead of just taking the damn compliment, for God's sake.

Hongjoong wants to tell him that whatever just happened with them in the bathroom before Mingi and Wooyoung interrupted is what's weird weird, but apparently neither of them are going to bring that up. That's totally fine with Hongjoong. “If you want me to say it how it is and call you an asshole, just tell me,” He says instead.

“You're really not all that creative with your insults for a lyricist,” Seonghwa scoffs at him, leaning back all the way against the couch until the crown of his head is resting against the wall. “You should write a diss track, it'll help with that.”

“Please, on who? You? You'd be the one performing it. Don't be so self-deprecating. Chin up, soldier.” 

Their conversation ends before Seonghwa can get another jab in because Wooyoung's leaving the bathroom, running a hand through his hair, and shutting the door behind him. Mingi doesn't come out with him. “Sorry. It was an important phone call,” Wooyoung offers in lieu of an actual explanation, and then, “Now that that's over… Seonghwa, you look so good, damn. If I were Hongjoong, I'd be drooling over you too.”

Before Hongjoong even gets the chance to decipher what the hell that means, because he was definitely not drooling over Seonghwa, and what happened to not talking about it?-- Seonghwa's already responding. “The choker was a nice touch. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Oh. Of course, Hongjoong's choker-induced brief moments of insanity in the bathroom could be traced back to Wooyoung, that conniving jerk. “I thought you said you weren't going to talk about it.”

“I said I wasn't going to tell anyone. Not that I wasn't going to talk about it, come on, you should know all about the art of semantics,” Wooyoung tuts, heaving his suitcase onto the bed he's sharing with Mingi to fish out his stage outfit. 

Hongjoong makes a very choice gesture at Wooyoung with one finger, deciding his dumbassery isn't worth responding with words. 

“Don't have a bad attitude, Joongie. It's gig night, you're supposed to be excited,” Seonghwa laughs, moving closer into Hongjoong's personal space. 

“ Joongie? ” Hongjoong's voice is incredulous, staring at Seonghwa who's got his hand pressed up to his mouth to stifle his giggles. “Don't call me that. Just in case you're not aware, me and you? We're not friends.”

“Oh, so you're something more?” Wooyoung teases, having finished rooting around in his suitcase.

Hongjoong groans into his hands.

Of course, their performance goes well. They're just playing for a crowd of drunk idiots in a bar, but all of them are serious about making it the best it can be. So, it goes well. Hongjoong and San stand in the crowd to watch, because Wooyoung wanted a recording and San’s hands are too shaky to take a stable video. The crowd seems to love their songs because no tomatoes or drinks are tossed on stage and they keep dancing, so it's a good night.

Except for, like always, Park Seonghwa. Maybe he's just hyper-attuned to everything about him following their recent incidents, but he swears Seonghwa's catching his eye more often in the crowd, like Seonghwa's actively searching him out. It's creepy! 

“Can you stop recording Seonghwa fancams and record the whole band?” San yells into his ear over their own music, pointing to the stage. 

“I'm not recording just Seonghwa? What's wrong with everyone lately?” Hongjoong yells back, but when he looks into his camera, he's horrified to see that he was just recording Seonghwa. Fuck.

Later, when Wooyoung asks where the recording of their third song is, Hongjoong shrugs and says San ruined it by yelling. Which is true, just not the full truth. 

They stop drinking after their shows, frankly because the hangovers are hell, and Mingi is sick of being the designated driver. Yeosang had told him that if Mingi wanted to drink, Yeosang would stay sober and drive for him, but Hongjoong had literally never seen Mingi deny someone so quickly.

It's better for Hongjoong, anyway. With how he's been recently, he doesn't think getting drunk would be a good idea. He's got no clue as to where his tolerance lies, just drinks until he's more than drunk and makes a fool of himself, but not today, Satan. 

Mingi and him arrive first to the hotel room, Seonghwa and Wooyoung taking the other car for once. Mingi plops face first into the bed without even taking the stage clothes off. “Ugh, I need to never wake up again.”

“We have another gig tomorrow, unfortunately, you have to. At least you're not hungover, that would fucking suck,” Hongjoong goes over to Mingi's bed, patting his hair. “You're usually not that wiped out after a gig, though.”

Mingi turns his head so he can eye Hongjoong weirdly. “Yeah, but I don't usually have to perform after going to therapy.”

“Uh.” Therapy? It's the first time Hongjoong's heard of it. “You went to therapy today? When?” He asks, because they'd left early in the morning since the drive over was long. Hongjoong's never heard of a 5a.m. therapy session.

Mingi sits up straight all too suddenly. He looked exhausted just moments ago, but now his eyes are wide and wild with energy. “Therapy? Who said anything about that?”

Hongjoong squints his eyes at him. “Uh, you did?” 

“No, I didn't. What's taking Seonghwa and Wooyoung so long? I'm going to change,” Mingi diverts the conversation, grabbing the first shirt and pants from his luggage they had moved from the bed to the floor and making a dash for the bathroom. Genuinely, what the fuck? 

He doesn't get the time to mull it over any longer, because Wooyoung's pushing the hotel room door open with an exaggerated groan, leaning his guitar case up against the wall. Seonghwa follows shortly behind, looking unfairly good for having spent a long night out. “I'm going over to the other room,” Wooyoung announces, turning on his heel and shutting the door.

“Is Mingi in the bathroom?” Seonghwa asks, sitting down on his bed to unlace the giant ass boots he's wearing that have too many straps to warrant ever being put on.

“The bathroom door is locked and the light is on. Do you think a ghost moved in with us and is using it?”

“There's the Joongie I know,” Seonghwa says, dropping his boots to the floor with a heavy thud. Do those things weigh 20 kilos? “I'm gonna change.”

“The bathroom is occupied?”

“So turn around?”

Yes, there's something wrong with Seonghwa, he's sure of it. Hongjoong turns around, staring at his hands and ignoring the sounds of fabric swishing and unzipping. He supposes Seonghwa's used to changing in front of others– he's a model, after all– but Hongjoong definitely isn't. “What if Mingi comes back out?”

“Then he gets a show? I don't care. We're both guys, don't be a prude,” Seonghwa snarks. “I'm all done anyway. Mastered the art of quick change during switches in the runway, you can look now.”

Hongjoong almost doesn't want to, but he turns around anyways, because his laptop is by the couch and he needs to turn around to get to the couch.

He thinks that maybe he was wrong about Seonghwa. Maybe Hongjoong's the one with issues, because Seonghwa's just in a white tee and sweatpants, but his hair is still slightly curled and falling into his face, and he's got on these heavy-rimmed black glasses on that he didn't know Seonghwa wore, and okay. Okay. Somehow, he rocks sleepwear better than he rocks stagewear. 

“If you want to keep pushing the narrative that you don't like me, maybe start with not checking me out.”

Hongjoong stumbles in his shock at Seonghwa's words. “Wha’? I wasn't– You're insane! I wasn't checking you out, get a grip on yourself.” He moves past Seonghwa to grab his laptop that's on the couch, adding on a, “You wish I was checking you out,” for good measure, before putting his headphones on and turning the volume on his laptop up to max.

“Looks like it came true, then!” Seonghwa yells over Hongjoong's headphones, and Hongjoong pretends he doesn't hear him.

When Mingi comes out of the bathroom a little bit after his and Seonghwa's ‘conversation’, he plops face down on the bed again with a groan. “Turn off the lights, I need to sleep. ‘M so exhausted,” he mumbles, eventually crawling under the covers and curling up underneath them. Seonghwa's the one who gets up and turns off the lights because Hongjoong's comfortable on his couch-bed, but Mingi's complaints remind him of what happened just before Seonghwa got back to the room and also of how Seonghwa was worrying about Mingi and Wooyoung earlier. So, naturally, he does some digging.

00:48 Hongjoong

yunho, u still up?

00:48 Yunho

just about 2 sleep, y?

00:49 Hongjoong

has mingi ever talked to you about like going to therapy?

00:49 Yunho

are you trying to say i need therapy?

that's a bit harsh

if anything, i think you need therapy

work out all that emotional constipation

00:49 Hongjoong

what are you on????

i meant it like, do you know if mingi goes to therapy

00:50 Yunho

oh so ur saying mingis the insane one

but no he hasn't said anything

not my place to ask

i don't go “hey bro, you go to therapy on wednesdays?”

why are you wondering

00:51 Hongjoong

he just said something

and has been acting weird

but ok

if u say so

00:51 Yunho

are you and seonghwa sleeping in the same bed rn

00:52 Hongjoong

ima block you don't test me

im sleeping on the couch

are you and san sleeping in the same bed

00:53 Yunho

this isnt about me

00:53 Hongjoong

it's not about me and seonghwa either

there is no me and seonghwa

00:54 Yunho

yeah but i think he likes you

Seen 00:55 by Hongjoong

Hongjoong wakes up at six in the morning because no one closed the blinds and their room faces east. Sometime in the night, Wooyoung had come back and is lying on top of Mingi, neither of them awake, but Seonghwa's sitting up and tapping on his phone. “Good morning, Joongie.”

He's stopped fighting the nickname at this point. If Seonghwa thinks it's ticking him off, he'll keep up with it, so the only way to make him stop is to pretend it doesn't bother him. “Yeah, good morning. Fuck, my back hurts. And we have another night of this.”

“I'll give you a massage,” Seonghwa offers. Hongjoong looks down at his hands, and yeah, he's got long fingers that he's sure would feel nice on his back, honestly he'd take anything, but-

“Why would I want a massage from you? Ugh, I'll just live with it.”

“Then don't complain about your problems if you won't take up the solutions I give you,” Seonghwa stands up from the bed, rooting around in the covers for his glasses. Somehow, he actually makes the ‘I just woke up like this’ meme feel real. Hongjoong knows he's sporting a horrible case of bedhead, unlike Seonghwa, who's looking like God's favorite once again. “Why are you staring?”

“I'm not staring,” Hongjoong defends himself quickly. Seonghwa looks like he doesn't believe him. “Why are you so infuriating? It's six in the morning, give a guy some peace.”

“Hurry up and get changed, this hotel serves breakfast in the morning until nine.” 

Hongjoong can't help but think of what Yunho texted him last night. ‘I think he likes you’, yeah right. Not that he cares if Seonghwa likes him, and not that he even likes Seonghwa himself. “You can't boss me around.”

Yet, somehow, he finds himself sitting at one of the tables in the hotel lobby across from Seonghwa, poking at a bowl of yoghurt. 

“Did you want to do something together in this city, since we have the beginning of the day off?” Seonghwa asks, peeling off the green leaves at the top of his strawberries and discarding them onto Hongjoong’s plate.

“What, like with the whole band?” Hongjoong clarifies, even though the idea of him and Seonghwa willingly hanging out one on one must be at the top of both of their ‘Things I Never Want To Do’ lists. 

Seonghwa shoves a strawberry in his mouth before he answers, puckering his lips around the biggest part of it and biting down, but Hongjoong’s not watching his mouth or anything. “Yeah, I guess.”

“If you didn’t want to hang out, why would you suggest it?” He scoffs, sinking his spoon into his yoghurt, very clearly not making eye contact with Seonghwa while he finishes off the rest of his strawberries.

San’s sliding into the seat next to Seonghwa, stealing one of the berries off of his plate, popping it into his mouth. “What’s this about going out?”

“Seonghwa wants to go out.”

“With you?” San asks, confused, even though there’s nothing to be confused about.

“With all of us,” Hongjoong says, watching how San’s brows scrunch together. San turns to face Seonghwa, head tilted like a puppy.

“You said with all of us?”

“Well-”

“What are we talking about?” Yeosang appears, rubbing his eyes with his hands and taking the seat next to Hongjoong, so it’s the four of them at the table.

“Apparently Seonghwa wants to go out,” San fils him in.

“With Hongjoong?”

“With all of us,” Hongjoong repeats himself. What is even going on? At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if Yunho walked in and asked the same damn thing. “Yeosang, San, do you want to go out and visit the city?”

The two of them share a look, and then, “We already made plans with Yunho and Jongho, sorry. And I heard from Wooyoung last night that he and Mingi were going on a food tour of the city. Looks like it’s just gonna be you two.”

“But Yunho and Jongho aren’t–” Yeosang starts, but San grabs Hongjoong’s spoon of yoghurt, takes a spoonful, and shoves it into Yeosang’s mouth before he can finish whatever he was saying.

Hongjoong shoves at San, “I was eating that, asshole. Go get me a new spoon, I’m not using that one now.” He’s pretty sure everyone’s out to get him. Seonghwa’s not even looking at him, copying Hongjoong’s strategy of finding his food immensely interesting to look at. A whole day with Seonghwa? Wasn’t sharing a car and a room enough? 

“I’ll get you one later. As your manager, I say you two have to hang out. We can’t have you guys hating each other forever!”

“You’re not my manager if I don’t perform. I just make the music,” Hongjoong scoffs, gingerly putting the spoon that was in Yeosang’s mouth down on a napkin on the table.

Mingi’s the next one to join their table for breakfast and also the only one besides Seonghwa and him who actually grabbed his own plate, which consists of about three blueberry muffins. Healthy. “What are we doing?”

“I swear to God, if one of you says anything,” Hongjoong starts, gesturing as threateningly as he can with his hands but still being appropriate for a cheap hotel lobby breakfast table, because if he has to sit through another round of ‘Seonghwa wants to go out’, ‘With Hongjoong?’, ‘With all of us’, then he’s going to lose his mind.

“We’re talking about what to do today,” Seonghwa says instead of starting the whole train again. “Since we have the morning and afternoon off before the gig.”

“Oh,” Mingi says through a mouthful of blueberry muffin. He brings a hand to at least cover his mouth, but he keeps speaking. “Hongjoong, I was thinking we should–”

“Mingi, don’t you already have plans?” San interrupts loudly, not letting Mingi finish his sentence, but from the way Mingi’s face scrunches in confusion, Hongjoong realizes he’s been played.

“San, what the fuck are you up to?” He accuses, narrowing his eyes at him. Seonghwa’s looking at San, too, with a nasty side eye.

San tries to save face by shaking his head and pulling a pout, “Nothing, I swear! We all already have plans!”

“You’re just trying to get me and Seonghwa alone.”

“No! I’m repairing your guys’ relationship. Making you two friends. I don’t even know why you hate each other in the first place?” San whines, resting his head on the table at his defeat.

“I never said I hated Joongie,” Seonghwa shrugs, turning the attention of everybody at their table towards him. It’s the first time Hongjoong’s hearing about this, too. Maybe he’s about to pull one of those things like, ‘I just dislike him, not hate him.’ “He says we hate each other, but I just go along with it.”

“What?” Hongjoong doesn’t believe him. Sure, there were those times like when Hongjoong had done his makeup where Seonghwa had been so earnest in complimenting his skills, or when Seonghwa had broken his model gaze when he saw Hongjoong in the crowd, or in the bathroom complimenting him on his skills with the curling iron, or when he’d said he hadn’t wanted Hongjoong’s lipgloss if he hadn’t used it before– “Oh my God, I need to go talk to Yunho,” he stands up quickly, yoghurt and spoon be damned.

“Wait–” San stands up too, chair screeching, trying to catch Hongjoong’s wrist, but he’s known San for longer than anyone else and knows exactly how to evade him. Hongjoong even skips the elevator, so used to taking the stairs in his own apartment, in his haste to get up to Yunho’s room.

He ends up not being able to talk with Yunho about it until he’s sitting at a nail parlor with him. It was Yunho’s idea; he’d told him he booked it last night, and that Hongjoong wasn’t allowed to say no, and that Mingi was coming with them. Because the three of them are an official trio now, apparently. “Seonghwa likes me.”

“I knew it!” Yunho cheers, the nail artist having to grab Yunho’s wrist to stop him from moving and messing up the manicure. “I knew it,” He repeats more calmly this time. “I told you last night, didn’t I? What made you realize? Was it me?”

“No, it wasn’t you. He just said something at breakfast, and then I was thinking about it–”

“Honestly, I think you two are fucking,” Mingi says, uncaring about how crass his language is. The nail artist seems to enjoy the drama, laughing at his words, but Hongjoong’s utterly embarrassed.

“What is wrong with you? Genuinely, what’s your issue?” Hongjoong hisses at him and would smack him if his hands were free.

“Wait, what happened? I missed something, didn’t I?” Yunho pouts at the both of them, looking way too much like a kicked puppy. Hongjoong looks away from him because that look is notorious for making sure Yunho gets what he wants.

Mingi apparently doesn’t get the memo. “I walked in on him and Seonghwa in the bathroom and they were really close.”

“You said you weren’t going to tell anyone!” Hongjoong, much to the detriment of his nail artist, does in fact lift the hand she’s not working on in order to hit Mingi on the back of the neck. “You’re an asshole. You’re demoted from being my friend, go, leave. I don’t even know you. Mingi who?”

“Wooyoung was the one who promised. I didn’t say anything!” Mingi defends himself, rolling his shoulders to smooth the sting because he can’t move his hands.

“Did you kiss him? Or did he kiss you?” Yunho asks.

“Mingi, why don’t you tell us whatever it was that was so important that you had to walk in on us for?” Hongjoong says instead of answering.

Yunho’s laugh is near-maniacal. “Your deflection is incriminating!” He sing songs, taking too much joy in Hongjoong’s pain. Anyone who thinks Yunho is an angel has clearly never met Yunho.

Unfortunately for Hongjoong, Mingi’s just as good at deflecting the conversation as Hongjoong is, and it’s two against one. “So what are you going to do about Seonghwa, knowing that he likes you?” 

“Nothing, obviously. I don’t like him back?” He says, giving in. Hongjoong might as well give these piranhas something to bite at in order to get them off of him.

“Isn’t the whole hatred thing like, your way of flirting? You know, pulling on his metaphorical pigtails? Wooyoung did the same thing, too. Maybe it’s a November-baby thing.” Yeah, no, Mingi has no clue what he's talking about, Hongjoong thinks.

“You should reflect on it. Maybe you were unconsciously writing love songs because you were in love with Seonghwa.” Hongjoong decides Yunho has no clue what he's talking about, either.

“You two are insane. Why can't my friends be normal; why am I stuck with you two?” It was actually absurd to think that he was writing love songs for Park Seonghwa . Sure, he gets a bit inspired usually by their interactions, but he gets inspired by everything. It's one of his best traits. “You don’t think that's actually true, do you?”

“You should go on a date,” the nail artist lady who's doing his nails says. Oh my God, he's not safe anywhere. Yunho and Mingi both lose their shit, of course, because they get their kicks out of his suffering, fucking sadists that they are.

“The service here is lovely, thank you,” Yunho compliments, much too giddy. Hongjoong should never have let Yunho rope him into this.

“Why are you so against it, Hongjoong? It could be nice, you never know,” Mingi tells him with all of his two months of experience with Wooyoung.

“‘Cause I don't like him! He's so annoyingly perfect, like fuck, he even models . He models and he sings, no one should be allowed to do both . And he's nice, too, damn. He's not even that close with you, Mingi, but he worries about you, and he learned some keyboard for Yunho recently, like… It's just so aggravating.”

Yunho's still laughing next to him and Hongjoong seriously doesn't get what's so funny, but Mingi's the one who gets a word in first. “You also said ‘I want my words to be sung by you’ in the car, or something like that. Maybe Seonghwa's your muse, and you didn't even realize.”

“He said that?” Yunho asks excitedly, leaning back in his seat so he can look at Mingi who's on the other side of Hongjoong.

“Mingi, one day, you're just not going to wake up. I'm sharing a hotel room with you, don't be surprised if I smother you in your sleep.”

The gig that night also goes perfectly fine, as they always do. It's a different bar but in the same city with the same set. It's nothing too special, and Hongjoong's self-instated rule to stop drinking after their gigs goes out the window. He needs a drink after the nail appointment. Mingi and Yunho have the tendency to see things through rose tinted glasses despite how much of a realist Mingi is. San’s out there in the audience, recording despite his shaky hands, and Hongjoong's right here in a bar stool, nursing his second drink for the night, pen and paper out in front of him. He gets his best ideas when he's drunk, or maybe he's just looking for something to occupy himself. 

He'd been on a roll earlier when the band was up, playing his songs. Hearing Seonghwa's tenor voice over the speakers and Jongho singing the soprano melody, he'd really been able to get something good down. It's a lot harder now to write something after ATEEZ has finished their performance, without Seonghwa and Jongho’s voices in his ears. He's mostly just tapping his pen against the paper, trying to think of something while watching the ink blot, but his mind is uselessly blank.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asks, taking the stool next to him. Hongjoong, with alcohol fuzzing his brain, doesn't really mind it.

“Failing to write lyrics. And drinking,” He explains, not bothering to say something snarky like ‘what does it look like I’m doing?’. Hongjoong decides instead, to punctuate his sentence with a long sip of his high alcohol percentage IPA.

“Can I read your lyrics?” Seonghwa asks, running a finger around the rim of Hongjoong's beer glass after he sets it down. He has half a mind to say no to Seonghwa, but most of his lyrics end up in ATEEZ’s songs anyway, so Seonghwa would see them one way or another. 

Hongjoong looks at the paper with what he's written, but the words are starting to blur together. “Yeah, sure. Tell me what you think.”

Seonghwa takes a couple of minutes to read it all the way through, so Hongjoong finishes off his drink and flags the waiter for another one. “Who is this about?” Seonghwa asks eventually.

Hongjoong turns to face him, but the question isn't really registering in his head. Hongjoong doesn't really write about other people, more like vague experiences and things like that, but he supposes he was writing the lyrics when listening to Seonghwa sing their songs on stage, so. “You.”

Seonghwa's mouth parts slightly in shock, and the paper crinkles in his grip. “No, it's not.”

“How do you know? They're my lyrics,” he scoffs, grabbing the crinkled lyric sheet from Seonghwa's hands. 

It's quiet for a moment, about as quiet as it can get in a bar, but then Seonghwa's standing up, face a perfect image of stone cold indifference. “You know, Hongjoong, you give off the worst mixed signals ever. One day you hate me, and the next you're staring at me like I mean something to you and writing fucking love song lyrics about me.”

“Mixed signals? I give you mixed signals?”

“Yes!” Seonghwa groans, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. He grabs the lyric sheet back from Hongjoong, waving it in his face. Hongjoong grabs it back when he holds it close enough, shoving it in his pocket. “You can't interpret this as anything other than a love song. And you said it was written about me. And you've been telling me all these nice things– saying how nice you think I am, and you told me my face was perfect, and you watched my modeling show even when you said you weren't going to, and fuck, and sometimes– sometimes you touch me, like when you were putting on my lipgloss-”

“Hey guys, we're getting ready to go so– is something going on?” Jongho asks, coming up to where they are at the bar to corral them back into the cars, so they can head back to the hotel. Hongjoong doesn't even know what's happening.

“Nothing's going on, Jongho. Don't worry,” Seonghwa's voice goes soft when speaking to Jongho, a far cry from the icy hostility it had been towards Hongjoong. “Tell the others we'll be there in a minute,” he says, shooing off Jongho. When he's out of earshot, Seonghwa's back to how he was before. “Can you walk?” He asks, digging around in his wallet until he finds two twenties and presses them onto the bar top underneath the empty third drink glass for the bartender. 

“Of course I can walk, I still have my legs,” Hongjoong says flatly, getting up from the barstool but forgetting he'd rested the heels of his boots behind the footrest, so when he stands, his shoes get stuck and he tilts nearly all the way forward until Seonghwa catches him.

“Goddamnit,” Seonghwa whispers, wrapping his arms underneath Hongjoong's armpits and untangling his feet from the barstool. “I'm pissed off at you, just so you know,” he tells him but lets Hongjoong use him for stability.

“Yeah, I think I got that when you started yelling at me. Fucking hell. Mixed signals. What do you want me to say to you?” Hongjoong scoffs, Seonghwa practically having to drag him out of the bar with how little he's doing to support his own weight.

“I want you to realize you can't hide behind this fake hatred, or whatever it is, that you use to keep yourself safe. God, if you want me, just fucking tell me. I'd be yours, if you wanted me. What am I even saying? You're drunk out of your mind, and I'm a fucking idiot.”

If you want me, I'd be yours . Fuck. What the fuck? Hongjoong's mind spins around those words, almost wants to write them down so he won't forget, but he knows he won't. “Seonghwa-”

“Don't say anything. God, just talk to me when you're sober. I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you when you're drunk.”

Hongjoong groans, shoving at Seonghwa's shoulder, which probably wasn't the best decision considering it pushes Seonghwa backwards and now Hongjoong has to support himself, but fuck it. “You're just yelling at me and then telling me not to respond?”

“What are you going to say then? Something like you actually do hate me and it's not all fake? Please, spare me the bullshit, Hongjoong. Let's just get out to the car.” Seonghwa comes back up to him, trying to wrap Hongjoong's arm over his shoulder, but Hongjoong stumbles back.

“No, this conversation isn't over. I think you're great, Seonghwa. Fuck, I haven't been able to sit down and write a damn song because you're so fucking distracting. Recently, all anyone talks to me about is you! Fucking, you and me and whatever the hell we're up to! Even my fucking nail artist was telling me shit about you and me! I just don't understand it, when did the whole entire world suddenly decide that you and I are in love?”

“Probably when you started acting like you're in love with me. I've always been this way, you're just blind. Come on, let's go. You're not even going to remember this in the morning,” Seonghwa doesn't let Hongjoong get away this time, pulling him towards the exit and over to the cars. Hongjoong doesn't– can't – protest because ‘I’ve always been this way’ ? When Hongjoong started acting like he was in love? And ‘ If you want me, I'd be yours .’ 

They forget to close the blinds again, so Hongjoong wakes up way too early with the sun shining in his way too sensitive eyes. Casting squinty eyes across the room, he can see Wooyoung and Mingi are up, Wooyoung watching Mingi scroll through his phone, and on the other bed, Seonghwa's awake. Memories of last night flood in upon seeing Seonghwa leaning against his headboard, and oh fuck. 

I've always been this way. If you wanted me, I'd be yours.

Ohh, fuck. Hangover headache be damned, Hongjoong rips off the blanket, grabs his phone, and books it to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and letting his head hit the countertop. He hadn't changed out of his clothes from last night, so he digs around in his pockets until he finds the crumpled paper from last night. 

I have something to say

The words I wanted to say

I've been thinking about it all night

When I thought of you

There's a lot I'm sorry for

I want to say those difficult words now

Thank you

…

You and me, you and me

It's always the two of us

Is death an option? Hongjoong stares at the paper, like the lyrics he wrote last night would suddenly change. Of course, of course. He wrote them when Seonghwa was singing, had told Seonghwa they were about him. What's that phrase? Drunk words are sober thoughts? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He crumbles the paper up into a ball, hitting himself in the forehead with it. What the hell does he do, now? 

#yungijoong

7:21 Hongjoong

im going to kms

7:21 Mingi

is the hangover kicking your ass

7:21 Hongjoong

is wooyoung reading over your shoulder rn

7:22 Mingi

yes

7:22 Hongjoong

wooyoung close your eyes this conversation is not for you

7:23 Hongjoong

is he closing his eyes

7:26 Mingi

im out in the hallway

7:27 Yunho

what is going on

hello am i talking to hangover hongjoong

7:28 Hongjoong

i fucked up so badly guys

like so badly

like so so badly

7:28 Mingi

like so badly?

7:28 Yunho

like so so badly?

7:30 Hongjoong

this is so serious rn i cannot have you guys making fun of me

mingi how did you know you liked wooyoung

7:31 Mingi

is this about seonghwa

7:32 Hongjoong

no

answer me

7:32 Mingi

i don't know

he hated me when we first met but idk

his determination to make the band work, i guess

even when it seemed like we weren't gonna get anywhere he still worked hard and 

he's trustworthy and whenever he got excited about things working out for us, it was really cute

and he's hot

which is a plus

i thought he was always gonna dislike me 

he sent so many mixed signals

he would look at me all the time but he would tell san and yeosang and seonghwa he couldn't stand me

but something changed he must've realized something 

and he cares so much i dont think anyone's so attuned to people as he is

7:37 Yunho

awwww omg

i need me a romance like that

woogi relationships goals fr

7:38 Hongjoong

don't you have something with san?

7:39 Yunho

irrelevant

why did you want to know about mingi and wooyoung

7:39 Hongjoong

smth happened last night

trying to make sense of it

7:40 Mingi

what happened

smth with seonghwa?

7:42 Hongjoong

no

i gtg

7:43 Yunho

lame

Hongjoong feels like he can barely breathe, reading what Mingi sent about Wooyoung. It was almost too similar, the whole part about Mingi thinking Wooyoung was going to hate him forever, the mixed signals, always looking at him. It's what Hongjoong's doing to Seonghwa. Okay, calm down. He'll just make a timeline of everything that's happened with the two of them, and then he'll see how he feels. Or, he would, until his phone buzzes, and you know, maybe the timeline can wait.

7:53 Seonghwa

Are we okay?

7:55 Hongjoong

yes

7:55 Seonghwa

Okay.

Do you remember anything from last night?

7:56 Hongjoong

all of it

7:59 Seonghwa

Oh.

It's all he gets from Seonghwa. They have to be on the road soon in order to get to the next hotel a couple cities over. If they have to share a room together, it would be horrible. Maybe Seonghwa will sit in Yunho’s car, instead. He keeps staring at his phone, though, waiting for another message from Seonghwa. Anything. Nothing comes through even as he waits for what feels like forever, so he uncrumples the lyric sheet again, too scared to go back out to the room if Seonghwa's out there. 

The paper is flimsy with how often it's been crumpled and recrumpled in different ways, but the pen ink is still visible and readable. Drunk words are sober thoughts. 

They're at their next gig; it's not a bar this time, but a small music venue that showcases some bands each night and gives a little bit of the proceeds to the performing bands. It's a good deal, and Hongjoong doesn't even know how San managed it, but he's grateful. The eight of them had stood gawking at the backstage door with their name, ATEEZ, emblazoned on it via whiteboard and marker. Wooyoung had freaked out in a good way, and it had taken the combined efforts of Mingi and Yeosang to calm him down. 

But now, it's just him and Seonghwa sitting on the couch in their dressing room, the rest of the band gone to interact with the other bands, extroverts that most of them are. They're opening act, too, so everyone's much more hyped than usual for their performance. “Good luck out there in a few,” Hongjoong tells Seonghwa, breaking the silence between them. 

“I don't need luck,” Seonghwa scoffs with a shake of his head. “Did you bring that lipgloss you put on me that one time?” He asks out of practically nowhere.

Hongjoong's about to say no, because he doesn't bring any makeup with him unless he's lugging around the entire makeup bag he has, but somehow, he fishes it out of his pocket and tosses it towards Seonghwa. “Go crazy.”

He's not looking at Seonghwa, but he can tell he catches it because the tube clinks against his rings. There's shuffling from the other side of the couch, and then Seonghwa's right next to him, so close that they're touching from shoulder to thigh. “I was thinking something else,” Seonghwa hums, and Hongjoong can feel his lips move against his ear. 

“Like what?” Hongjoong's voice waivers at their proximity, and somehow, Seonghwa manages to get even closer, pressing further into Hongjoong until he's reclined on the couch, head resting against the arm rest. Seonghwa's knelt over him, thighs bracketing Hongjoong's hips, hands working over the lipgloss tube to open it.

“Like this. Part your lips for me,” Seonghwa orders him and shockingly, he does. Like it's natural for him to listen to what Seonghwa wants of him.

Seonghwa smiles in response to his obedience, leaning down until they're nearly chest to chest. “Good,” Seonghwa presses the lipgloss wand to Hongjoong’s lips, reapplying a couple of times until it's layered thick and tacky. “Just like that.”

“Weren't you going to put it on yourself?” Hongjoong asks, staring up at Seonghwa.

“I am,” Seonghwa closes the tube of lipgloss, tossing it somewhere that Hongjoong doesn't really care about. Seonghwa's hands, now free, come up to rest on either side of his neck, long fingers tangling together at his nape. When Seonghwa leans down, Hongjoong doesn't hesitate to close his eyes, tilting his chin up willingly to meet him in the middle.

Fuck, he's wanted this. He's wanted this so bad, but he wouldn't let himself have it. Didn't even know he wanted it until right now, when Seonghwa's all he can feel, taste, and touch. Hongjoong reaches down to place his hands at Seonghwa's hips, and Seonghwa lets the pressure of Hongjoong's grip guide himself into one slow roll of his body against his, moaning into the kiss they're sharing.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are heavy and lidded, and the lipgloss is smeared over his lips. “See, I put it on. You didn't have to–”

“Hongjoong? Hongjoong!” Seonghwa yells, flicking Hongjoong in the forehead and very efficiently waking him up because holy fucking shit, that hurts like a bitch. His neck cracks from the odd angle he was sleeping in: resting up against Seonghwa's shoulder. Fuck. He slept against Seonghwa . “Are you okay? You were out like a light. We're here.”

Fuck, he was dreaming. About him and Seonghwa– oh, God. Freud once said your repressed thoughts eventually come back unconsciously through dreams. Is he in love with Seonghwa? “Yeah– yeah, I'm fine, sorry, let me get out.” 

Hongjoong practically stumbles out of the car to see that everyone has already arrived. When he sees Seonghwa, Hongjoong can't even meet his eyes, feeling a blush creeping up his face. “Did we already get our rooms?” Hongjoong asks in order to avoid facing Seonghwa.

“Yeah, I stayed in the car, so you could sleep a little while longer. We're sharing again, but we have our own room.” Oh. That's great, Hongjoong can't even look at Seonghwa and they're supposed to share a room. For fuck’s sake.

“Right,” he whispers, suddenly very aware of the fact that the entire band is staring at them. “Let's just go inside.”

At least there are two beds. At least. Hongjoong takes the one furthest from the door.

“Can we talk?” Seonghwa asks as soon as the hotel door closes behind them. 

“Talk? What is there to talk about?” Hongjoong laughs nervously, picking at his nails, thoroughly convinced that Seonghwa will somehow find out he was dreaming about them kissing. 

“What isn't there to talk about?” Seonghwa's incredulous, and Hongjoong knows he's making that wide-eyed ‘what the fuck is going on’ face right now, but he's not going to look over to confirm. “You tell me that we're okay, but you won't even fucking look at me. If you're that uncomfortable because of what I said, just tell me. I'll switch rooms with Jongho. But– but you slept on my shoulder, so I thought you were fine with it, you know? God!” Seonghwa sits down on his bed with a groan. “I wish I knew what you were thinking about. I'm just a fucking idiot, I guess, reading into everything you do.”

“I'm not uncomfortable because of what you told me last night,” Hongjoong manages, because it's the truth. “You're not–”

“Then why are you? Please, Hongjoong. Just fucking talk to me. I can't stand this, telling you what I'm feeling just for you to dance around with vague responses.”

One thing is for sure: no matter what, he cannot tell Seonghwa about his dream. No matter what. “I can't tell you.”

It's the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Hongjoong can practically feel Seonghwa's temper building. “You can't tell me,” he laughs, “Of course. I'm scared as hell, Hongjoong. I'm scared as hell to tell you how I feel, because for some reason, you never want to entertain your feelings.”

“What, you don't think I'm scared too?” Hongjoong finally turns to face Seonghwa, who's now standing up in the alley between their beds, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I think you're a goddamn coward, that's what I think. I'm scared, but at least I can face it. You don't even want to look me in the eyes because you're too much of a coward to say what you want.”

“I don't even know what I want!” Hongjoong yells, standing up and walking forward until he's toe-to-toe with Seonghwa, staring up at him.

“You don't? I thought it's been pretty fucking clear. Those lyrics you wrote, you don't just say shit like that just to say it.”

The only way Hongjoong's been able to write a song recently is if he's thinking of Seonghwa. How Seonghwa's voice would fit with his lyrics, how he can make the instrumental compliment and contrast, how Seonghwa would look on stage singing it, how he would perform. Just Seonghwa. “I dreamed about you,” Hongjoong breathes in realization. Fuck, it all comes down to this. Of course, what his friends said had been right. What everyone had been saying was right. Just how long has Hongjoong been wearing his heart on his sleeve for the entire world to have already known?

Seonghwa stares at him speechless for a moment. “You– w-what?” Suddenly, the hostility in Seonghwa's posture is gone, leaving only a certain fragile vulnerability. “Don't mess with me, Hongjoong. You're not an asshole like that.”

“I’m not messing with you! Just now, in the damn car. Me and you, we were– God, this is fucking embarrassing. Read between the lines, please.”

“Show me,” Seonghwa's voice is pleading almost. “If you mean it, show me.”

Neither of them move for a moment. Hongjoong almost can't fucking believe what Seonghwa's asking, and he definitely can't believe how badly he wants to do it. Seonghwa doesn't budge no matter how long Hongjoong hesitates. Of course, Hongjoong already knows where Seonghwa stands. Everything's in his hands here, but if he's too much of a coward to say what he wants, then maybe he can just do it instead.

Hongjoong tosses an arm around Seonghwa's neck and pulls him down, watching Seonghwa’s eyes close to see the way his lashes look against his skin before shutting his own and pressing him into a kiss. It's nothing like his dream, and everything like what he wants. Fuck, he's wanted this for so long. He presses himself as close as he can get to Seonghwa in the alley between their beds, nearly tipping them over before Seonghwa places a warm hand over the small of his back. 

Hongjoong can feel Seonghwa smiling, their kiss turning more into teeth than lips because of it, but Hongjoong doesn't care. It feels right. Of course his songs all sounded like love songs when Yunho and Mingi reviewed them because they are love songs. Love songs for Seonghwa. The thought makes his head spin, so he tries stepping back to get some air, but Seonghwa follows him, and doesn't let him leave until they're falling backwards onto Hongjoong's bed.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa hovers over him, sounding absolutely out of breath. Seonghwa looks so good, with his long hair falling down around his face; his shirt that's a bit too baggy sloping down so if Hongjoong props himself up, he can look down the collar; the way he's looking at him like he had on the runway. “Don't let this be a one time thing.”

“One night stands imply you have sex,” Hongjoong says, because he can't read the mood for the life of him.

Seonghwa grins down at him, adjusting so he’s resting on his elbows that bracket Hongjoong's head instead of his hands so he can get closer. “We can, if you want to. As long as you stay.”

If you want to. Those words, every single time. “I want to,” Hongjoong isn't afraid of saying it, “but later. Didn't bring stuff, didn't expect anything.”

“What, you didn't come on this vacation expecting to get over your hate boner for me and get boned by me instead?” Seonghwa laughs, rolling off of Hongjoong and then grabbing his hand to heave him into a sitting position next to him.

“Don't be vulgar,” Hongjoong scrunches his nose at the words. It's the banter he's used to between them, but now– now, they're something else. “What are we?”

“I don't know. Took us a long while to even get to this stage, we can– feel it out,” Seonghwa shrugs like it doesn't matter too much, but then he's saying, “I'm crazy about you, Hongjoong. I want to go at your pace, though. Whatever you want, I want it.”

“Oh,” is all Hongjoong can say. He's not anywhere close to being able to say the romantic things that Seonghwa's saying to him.

“Have you ever even been in a relationship before?”

“I'm only 25. Why would I have?”

“Oh.” Apparently, it's Seonghwa's turn to be speechless. “No wonder it took you so damn long. I'll teach you, don't worry,” Seonghwa stretches his thigh over Hongjoong until he's perched on Hongjoong's lap, “Pick up where we left off?”

The rest of their winter break goes by fast, now that Hongjoong's not tiptoeing around him and Seonghwa. They haven't told the band, but there's sleazy looks sent their way almost every hour they're together, so they probably already know. It's fun to sneak around and keep it a secret, though.

Like now, after their vacation is over and successful, they go back to Friday band practice sessions. He comes in early and heads to the bathroom first, Seonghwa already waiting for him. It's easy for them, then, for Seonghwa to come up and press Hongjoong against the sink, spending the extra minutes he earned by being there early kissing Seonghwa. The two of them, they're both a little bit of exhibitionists; Hongjoong would personally die if anyone ever actually walked in, but the idea is great. He actually can't stand doing anything touchy in public, hates PDA, doesn't know how Mingi is constantly touching Wooyoung or vice versa, but Seonghwa understands. And it makes these little bathroom trysts before the others arrive all that more fun.

“How's the song going?” Seonghwa asks between kisses, pushing Hongjoong up until he's sitting on top of the sinktop where they'd dyed their hair all those weeks ago. Like this, it gives him better access to kissing his neck, something Seonghwa loves doing.

“Ah, better. Gonna give you guys the preview today, see what the rest of the band thinks,” Hongjoong hums, letting Seonghwa nip at his Adam’s apple as it moves while he talks.

“Is it the song you wrote for me while you were drunk? Finally figured that one out?”

“God, no. That one's– that one's a work-in-progress. Wouldn't it be a bit weird to sing a song about yourself, like that?” 

Seonghwa pulls away from his neck to look at Hongjoong, “Yeah, but it'll be your words.”

Hongjoong likes the sound of that. His words sung by Seonghwa, like he's always wanted. Hongjoong can't help the satisfied grin that comes on his face, pulling Seonghwa back down into another kiss, already open-mouthed. Seonghwa's hands, long and slender, come wrapping up around Hongjoong's waist, pressing forward until they're chest to chest. The porcelain of the sink digs into the crook of his knees, but Hongjoong doesn't care.

He especially doesn't care with his hands busy roaming down Seonghwa's spine, coming down and moving to the front so he can press his palm into the vee of Seonghwa's legs. Seonghwa's hands tighten their grip around his waist, biting down on Hongjoong's lip. Seonghwa's almost addictive, everything about him having Hongjoong practically hanging off his finger. 

One of Seonghwa's hands lets go of his waist to cover Hongjoong's at his groin, forcing Hongjoong to apply more pressure as Seonghwa rolls his hips once languidly into the grip. He quickly loses control after there, hips grinding quicker into their hands, breaking the kiss so he can droop his head forward, bangs falling over his eyes, letting out a low moan. “Fuck, Hongjoong. Do we have time?”

“Don't care,” he breathes without missing a beat, wanting this image of Seonghwa to last a little longer even though he can have him whenever he wants. “Keep going,” He urges instead, and Seonghwa's batting their hands away to roll his hips against Hongjoong's. Seonghwa's already half hard and Hongjoong's well on his way, his hands finding their way back to Hongjoong's hips to guide him, because Hongjoong has no idea how to. Hongjoong's head falls back, letting Seonghwa work him however he wants to, and embarrassingly, whining with each movement.

Seonghwa gets quicker and louder, one hand leaving his hips again to yank on Hongjoong's hair and he's oddly reminded of how Mingi had said they flirted like kids and pulling pigtails, but then those thoughts are gone when Seonghwa does it again and it pulls a whimper out of him. “You sound so good, Hongjoong. Don't wanna stop.”

“Then don't,” he says, like it's the easiest thing ever. It is. 

“Fuck,” Seonghwa eloquently puts, stepping back from Hongjoong to unbuckle his belt, the chrome silver buckle clinking against the rings on his hands until it comes loose, and then it's the zipper, followed by the rest of his pants. It's a bit presumptuous and probably shouldn't be as hot as it is, but fuck. Seonghwa's still got his boxers on anyways, but he must have bought a size down because they cling to his skin almost too tightly, and if that's what Seonghwa looks like when he's half-hard… “Don't stare,” Seonghwa says, snapping Hongjoong out of his Seonghwa dickprint reverie.

“Take your jacket off,” Hongjoong demands, but he's already pushing himself off the sink and tugging on the sleeves of Seonghwa's jacket to get it off. 

“Want me naked that bad?” Seonghwa taunts him, helping Hongjoong with his jacket by taking it off. Hongjoong grabs it when it's fully off, placing it at his feet on the floor and then sinking down on top of it.

“No, I just don't trust this bathroom floor,” Hongjoong tells him, curling his fingers into Seonghwa's waistband. He's never sucked a dick before, so he's really hoping Seonghwa's going to make good on his request to teach him. 

Hongjoong looks up at him, just to make sure this is okay, but Seonghwa's already looking down at him wildly, pupils blown out like he's high on something. “Shit, shit, wait. In my jacket coat, there's something–”

Hongjoong doesn't wait for Seonghwa to finish, just lifts up a corner of the jacket from the floor and fishes around in nearly every single pocket until he finds something. When he pulls it out, he nearly chokes on his spit. “Lipgloss?” He asks, but it's obviously lipgloss from the tube it's in. Hongjoong doesn't know how his dream fantasy of transferring lipgloss from his lips onto Seonghwa's somehow managed to parallel Seonghwa's fantasy of getting sucked off by Hongjoong with lipgloss on, but maybe that means they're weirdly perfect for each other.

“Yes, yes, put it on. Fuck, or I'll put it on for you,” Seonghwa stammers, voice raising with urgency. 

He almost laughs at how desperate Seonghwa is, but Hongjoong understands– he wants this just as bad. He uncaps the lipgloss, making quick work of putting it on and laying it on a bit too thick. Seonghwa seems to like it, anyways, with the punched out groan sounding from up above him. “I don't know how to give a blowjob,” Hongjoong says, a bit belatedly.

Seonghwa's smile is a bit insane. “That's fine- that's fine, I'll-”

“Oh, you're into it, aren't you?” Hongjoong finally picks up on it. Of course, nerdy Park Seonghwa would be into that kind of stuff.

“Fuck, yeah,” Seonghwa doesn't even try denying it. Talk about lack of shame. “Do I need to talk you through getting my underwear off, or do you know how to do that?”

“You're an asshole,” Hongjoong scoffs, wrapping his fingers in his waistband again and tugging down until they meet his pants around his ankles. Seonghwa's fully hard, now, shiny with precum and definitely too big for Hongjoong to fit in his mouth. “You're not gonna fit.”

“I will, eventually. You'll practice. Just, no teeth, and it feels real good right here,” Seonghwa wraps his hand just under the head, pressing his thumb into the skin underneath it. “And don't take more than you can handle.”

Eventually. Hongjoong doesn't think it'll ever manage to fit, but sure. He'll practice. Seonghwa's hand leaves his dick to cup his face, and Hongjoong can't even be mad that he's touching him with the same hand he touched his dick. It's oddly kind of comforting, anyways, so Hongjoong gets his hand around the base of it, other hand reaching down to the floor to stabilize himself as he leans in. 

Seonghwa tastes like skin and sweat, which isn't the grossest thing, considering he's tasted skin and sweat when kissing Seonghwa many times before. He focuses on the head, pressing his tongue into the spot Seonghwa singled out with his thumb, and it seems to work pretty well because Seonghwa's fingers tighten on his skin. He pulls back to press his tongue into his slit where it's slowly leaking precum into his mouth and then tightening his grip on the base of his dick.

The sound it draws out from Seonghwa is definitely doing it for him, a low moan that breaks off into an appraising hum. Hongjoong takes it as a good sign, obviously, and presses deeper, bobs his head like he imagines would feel good, and tries to use his tongue. It doesn't really work, and it makes too much saliva pool up in his mouth that it's starting to dribble out of the corners of his mouth and become a little gross. Seonghwa seems to notice, thumb rubbing across his chin and gathering the spit there. “You look so good like this, on your knees– how’m I supposed to sing, going to be thinking about you like this instead,” Seonghwa groans, pressing his thumb into Hongjoong's mouth alongside his dick, and it catches him off-guard that he tries to swallow around the intrusion. Seonghwa's moan is loud, the sound bouncing off the walls before he cuts himself off, Hongjoong having to pull off his dick to cough. “You okay?”

“Was it good?” Hongjoong asks instead of answering. It's a stupid question, anyways.

“Oh, God. Your lipgloss. Wan’ take a picture,” Seonghwa sounds absolutely depraved, and when he looks at Seonghwa's dick, there's a faint sheen of glimmery pink along the top half of it from his lipgloss. Oh, yeah, he gets it, for sure. It's probably smeared over his face, too. He doesn't even think he'd mind Seonghwa snapping pics of him during sex, either. He trusts Seonghwa to know his angles. “Fuck, can I– can I try something?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. Seonghwa shuffles a bit closer, and Hongjoong preemptively opens his mouth, but he doesn't get what he's expecting. A surprised groan leaves his mouth when one of Seonghwa’s shoes comes up to press against his crotch. 

“Just like this. ‘M gonna jerk off,” Seonghwa mumbles and just goes for it, holding his dick in front of Hongjoong's face as he rubs himself over, using the lipgloss and Hongjoong's spit to ease the way. Then, he's pressing his foot down, and Hongjoong's hips kick up into the friction, head falling forward.

“Oh, shit-” He whines, pressing his hips up against the pressure of Seonghwa's foot, staring down at where they're meeting. 

“Look at me. You like it? Feels good?” Seonghwa asks almost demeaningly, yanking on Hongjoong's hair again until he's tilted up, and he doesn't even get the chance to warn Seonghwa before he's garbling out a mess of syllables that's supposed to represent his name and coming into his underwear. It's fucking embarrassing, but Seonghwa lets out a long moan at the sight. He presses his shoe further down and the stimulation is almost too much that it makes him whimper. Seonghwa's dick twitches right in front of his face– Hongjoong's trying not to go cross-eyed looking at it– and his hand starts to blur over his dick with sudden urgency. “Shit, shit– Hongjoong, Hongjoong, can I cum in your mouth?”

Hongjoong would say no, because he thinks swallowing is gross, but he's also feeling a bit desperate from having come by grinding up against Seonghwa's foot, so he finds himself nodding. “Yeah, you ca–” He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before Seonghwa's pushing the tip of his dick into his mouth, jerking the rest of himself off before hitting his peak.

He coughs some of it up, not able to swallow all of it, and when he runs the back of his palm over his mouth, it's a mix of cum and lipgloss over it. Fucking hell.

They're busy catching their breath after when there's a harsh couple of knocks on the bathroom door, and Jongho's yelling through the wood, “You two get five more minutes! Hurry it the fuck up!” and their little attempts at keeping what they are a secret evaporate just like that.

Needless to say, there's no way to excuse the fact both of them walk back in to the studio at the same time, looking equally disheveled. San's grinning in glee as Yeosang thumbs through his wallet and presses a couple of dollar bills into his outstretched hand, and Wooyoung squeals out a, “Finally! Now you guys can't make fun of me and Mingi! Seongjoong are way worse!”