Chapter Text
Seonghwa's POV
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” San grimaced, taking a greasy McDonald’s bag from Hongjoong. A distinct hint of mischief in his voice told me these two menaces had absolutely planned this.
It was already around 11:15 p.m. by the time we got back to the apartment. Our conversations on the ride over had been light, mostly because it was getting late and the city streets weren't exactly the safest place to linger. The fluster I’d been battling all night continued to creep up my neck. Judging by the smug looks on their faces, it was clearly painted all over me.
“Oh, we had so much fun, didn’t we, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong chimed in.
It was certainly more fun for him. I was genuinely surprised by how quickly he could get under my skin.
“If your version of fun is teasing me by speeding up and suddenly braking just to throw me off balance, then you’re an idiot,” I huffed, snatching my burger and sundae from the bag. The calories were definitely excessive for this hour, but dealing with Hongjoong was exhausting.
Emotionally, more than anything. I turned to my brother. “Are you done with that missed homework yet?”
“Yup, turned it in right on time,” San said with a victorious laugh. “And you made it home in one piece, so stop complaining.”
He turned back to Hongjoong, already unwrapping his food.
“Rah, I’m starved from the stress. Thanks again for the treat, Hyung.”
This glutton. It made me wonder exactly how many times San had been treated by this college senior to be this comfortable around him. Then again, I had only spent a single motorcycle ride with the guy, and opening up to Hongjoong already felt like the easiest thing in the world. Am I seriously falling for him this early?
“It's no biggie, San. Fill up so you actually have the energy for when I beat you in Mario Kart later,” Hongjoong joked.
That instantly got San groaning, launching into a passionate rant about how he’d practiced with Wooyoung and was currently ranking higher than both of us. Hongjoong just laughed, effortlessly trading banter with him. If there was one thing Hongjoong hadn’t forgotten to bring tonight, it was his controller. While we were out, my little brother had conveniently set up the console in our living room, complete with the spare guest mattress and even my controller laid out on the floor. These guys aren’t slick. I quickly finished my food and marched over to the TV, picking up my controller. Might as well destroy them both in-game to make up for the embarrassing night they put me through.
“Why don’t you guys cut the arguing and let the games begin? Unless you’re a bum, that is,” I challenged. I picked Princess Peach simply because she’d been bringing me good luck lately.
The trash talk instantly riled them up. Both of them snapped their attention to me, but Hongjoong’s gaze lingered a second longer.
“Oh, it’s on, ‘Princess’.”
The way he said it—low, alluring, and deeply teasing made me want to punch his handsome face.
“If you’re going to discriminate against female characters, I’m not playing,” I shot back, keeping my eyes glued to the screen.
“No, not at all. I’m picking Mario,” Hongjoong said softly. He grabbed his controller and sat down right next to me on the floor. Damn it. I thought the danger zone was over. I desperately needed to gain control of my heart rate, or I was going to lose my sanity before the first lap. Behind us, San dove onto the mattress, still mumbling through a mouthful of food.
“Hey, don’t start without me!”
The three of us settled into the rhythm of the game, and against all odds, the tension melted into genuine fun. My brother’s loud complaints over lost power-ups and Hongjoong’s incredibly swift, frustratingly precise maneuvering through the courses made winning difficult, but I held my ground. The sound of our shared laughter filled the quiet apartment, completely erasing my drowsiness. We got so into the competitive spirit that I barely noticed how often mine and Hongjoong’s shoulders brushed. Every drift, every narrow escape, we leaned into each other. I never thought I’d feel this close to someone in the span of a single night. It felt dangerous.
We finally called it a night around twelve-thirty. My heart was still beating at an erratic pace, but winning a few final matches against Hongjoong made the exhaustion worth it. As I stood up to head to my room, the biker guy caught my eye, slipping me a gentle, private whisper: “Good night, Seonghwa.”
I practically dove into the safety of my bedroom.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Back in my pajamas, I stared up at the dark ceiling, waiting for sleep that refused to come. My mind was a chaotic loop of everything that had happened. How can he just appear out of nowhere and completely throw me off my balance? What if this is a one-time thing, and I never see him again? What if I want something so much more, and he doesn’t feel the same way? Is it crazy to be having these thoughts already?
And then my brain traitorously flashed back to the scene at the convenience store. What was that box of condoms even for? SHOULD I HAVE INVITED HIM TO SLEEP IN MY ROOM?!
I abruptly slapped my own cheeks, cut off by my own escalating imagination. This was insane. I barely knew him, yet he had me tossing and turning like a teenager. I needed a reality check, but with Yunho constantly instigating and feeding me intel via text, keeping my head straight was proving impossible. Slowly, the edges of my consciousness began to blur, fading into a heavy, warm sleep.
Then, I heard a voice call out to me.
“Seonghwa…”
I opened my eyes to find Hongjoong hovering directly over me, straddling my waist in his pajamas.
I squinted in the dim light, my mind scrambling to figure out how he had even gotten into my locked room. My face flushed a violent beet-red. He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin.
“I—um, Hongjo—”
Before I could finish what I said, he locked his lips with mine.
The kiss started soft, a gentle pressure that melted away any urge I had to fight him off. His lips were impossibly soft. But within seconds, the rhythm shifted, turning fiercer, hungrier. I gasped, and he took the invitation, parting my lips to let our tongues tangle in a sweet, dizzying dance. His hands began to roam over my sides, tracing the heat of my body while my fingers instinctively tangled into his messy hair. I was suffocating in the sheer pleasure of it. I had never been devoured like this before. It was intoxicating.
Then, his hand began to crawl downward. Past my waist. Traveling slowly toward the waistband of my pants.
An absolute siren blared in my brain.
I shot straight up in bed, eyes flying wide open, panting heavily into the empty, quiet room.
“Oh God, what the fuck was that dream,” I gasped, pressing the palms of my hands against my burning face.
It had been so vivid I swear I can still taste him. I was losing my mind. How dare I have a dream like that about my little brother’s friend? It felt entirely wrong. But then again, Hongjoong made it so hard not to dream about him. He felt so perfect. Perfect to me.
But am I perfect for him?
I didn’t know. Part of me selfishly wished he had already left for home, just so I wouldn’t have to face him after having such a scandalous dream.
Fully awake now, I grabbed my phone to check the time. 9:04 a.m. I had overslept by an hour, but at least my schedule was clear today. I quickly shot a good morning text to Yunho, filling him on last night’s drive and Mario Kart shenanigans though I strictly left out the dream. If he found out about that, he would grill me to the bone and never let me live it down. Suddenly, a terrifying realization hit me like a brick. Wait, is he still here? If Hongjoong was still in the apartment, I needed a shower immediately before he saw me looking like a disheveled zombie. Ignoring the rapid-fire responses buzzing from Yunho, I grabbed my towel and made a stealthy beeline for the bathroom. The apartment was unusually quiet. I let out a breath, thinking I was safe and alone at last.
I threw the bathroom door open. The words caught in my throat, and the only thing I could do was curse violently under my breath.
Standing right by the sink was Hongjoong. He was wearing absolutely nothing but a low-slung towel secured around his waist, leaving his entire bare chest in full view. His hair was wet and ruffled as he paused in the middle of drying it. He wasn’t overwhelmingly buff like my brother, but he possessed a beautifully lean, tone build. His forearms flexed as he held the towel to his head, drawing my eyes to a striking, banner-like tattoo wrapped around his arm, intricately detailed with symbols of helixes and infinity loops. It was the first time I’d ever seen it. Who knew he had all of that hiding under his leather jacket?
Our eyes locked in the mirror for two agonizing seconds.
“Ah! I’m sorry!” I squeaked, my face instantly burning. I slammed the door shut before he could even utter a word.
It should be fine, right? We were both guys. But combining my vivid dream with the literal man standing in my bathroom leaving nothing to the imagination proved one thing: this wasn't just some small, innocent crush anymore.
Get it together, Seonghwa.
I forced myself to breathe, gathering what little composure I had left. If he was still here, I should probably make breakfast. And check if San was awake. Walking into the kitchen, I noticed a bright sticky note held against the refrigerator by a fruit magnet.
Gone to campus for an early class, meeting with Wooyoung after. He has a fashion event today. You and Hongjoong-hyung should come see it! - San
I stared at the note, a vein practically throbbing in my forehead. I was going to beat the crap out of my brother. The first time felt like a coincidence, but this? This was a blatant setup. Left alone with him. Again.
“Good morning, Seonghwa.”
I jumped slightly, turning around. Hongjoong had walked out of the bathroom, now dressed in a loose shirt and comfortable sweatpants. He seemed entirely unfazed by the bathroom incident. Great, so I’m the only one losing my mind.
“San left early,” he noted, leaning against the counter. “What should we have for breakfast?”
Looking down at my own pajamas, the embarrassment flared up again. There was something intensely so domestic about being alone in a quiet kitchen with him like this. Was I really about to cook breakfast with the Kim Hongjoong?
“There's some bacon and eggs in the fridge. I'll whip something up real quick,” I said, stepping past him to grab my apron off the hook. Before my fingers could close around the fabric, a warm hand gently caught my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
“No chance. Let me handle it. You should go take your shower first,” Hongjoong declared, effortlessly sliding the apron out of my reach.
A defensive instinct kicked in. Something told me I shouldn't leave my kitchen to a guy who had literally been fired for burning fast food.
“It's fine, it’ll be quick. Besides, I don't think I can trust your cooking after what you told me about your part-time job,” I replied, playfully tugging the apron back from his grip and slipping it over my head.
Hongjoong instantly pouted, his lower lip protruding in a way that was entirely too cute for a guy who rode a heavy motorcycle. It was silly, and it completely broke my nervous tension.
“Aww, come on. Well, at least let me help you. What do you need?”
“Just grab the ingredients from the fridge and set them here,” I instructed, fighting a smile. “There’s some cold rice, so... are you good with kimchi-bokkeumbap?”
“Kimchi fried rice? Inside, right on it,” Hongjoong said enthusiastically, scrambling over to the fridge like an obedient, eager puppy.
We spent the next half hour busily moving around the small kitchen. Shuffling around the tight space gave me a sudden sense of ease; for the first time, I felt like I was the one in control. I hadn’t cooked a lot before college, but living independently with San had forced me to experiment. My food was decent enough—edible, at least. Surprisingly, Hongjoong seemed utterly fascinated by the whole process. He asked questions about everything and even insisted on taking over the frying pan to cook the eggs and bacon. As we exchanged easy banter and light laughter, a sudden, heavy thought dropped into my chest: I’m really going to miss him when this weekend ends.
But that shouldn't be a problem, right? After all, he was just my brother's friend.
Oh my god, you like him BAD, Yunho’s voice echoed in my head.
So what if I did? It wasn't every day your crush showed up on your doorstep and stayed the weekend. I briefly contemplated just taking the plunge and asking him out on a real date. No... that felt too desperate.
“Hey, Seonghwa, I think it's time to add the rice. The kimchi is starting to char,” Hongjoong’s voice snapped me out of my trance.
“Yeah! right,” I stammered. “Can you hand me the bowl?”
“Sure.” He lifted the bowl of cold rice, passing it over.
But as I reached for it, my hand accidentally slid directly over his. A physical jolt of electricity shot up my arm. Panicking, I quickly snatched my hand away, using my other hand to grab the opposite, empty side of the bowl.
“Oh, sorry about that,” I muttered quickly, keeping my eyes down as I dumped the rice into the sizzling pan.
The kitchen went quiet, save for the crackle of the food.
“Is touching me really such a repulsive thing to you?”
I froze. He sounded genuinely questioning, a faint trace of hurt laced in his tone. Repulsive? How could I possibly explain to him that I was currently fighting every urge to do the exact opposite?
“No, it's not like that, I just think—”
Before I could finish the sentence, Hongjoong reached out, and firmly gripped my arm. He pulled me gently but deliberately closer, forcing me to look up into his eyes.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his gaze intense, locked onto mine. “Does this bother you?”
The sudden tension in the room turned thick and heavy. His grip wasn't tight, but not too force. I stood completely paralyzed, staring back at him, my face visibly hot from how drastically the distance between us had shrunk. I could see the dark flecks in his eyes.
Ring! Ring!
The sudden, piercing blare of my phone from across the kitchen to my open bedroom door shattered the moment.
Hongjoong blinked, his grip loosening as he stepped back, clearing his throat. “You should... probably get that.”
“Right. Excuse me,” I breathed, practically lunging for my phone. I saw Wooyoung’s caller ID flashing on the screen. For the first time in my life, I wanted to build a shrine dedicated to him for saving me from that treacherous situation. Behind me, Hongjoong quietly took over the spatula, stirring the rice.
“Seonghwa-hyung~! Good morning! Where are you?”
Wooyoung’s voice practically exploded through the speaker, so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Good morning, Wooyoung. I’m still at home. If you're asking about the show, yes, I’ll be there later. Is San with you?”
“Not yet, he’s still in class probably, but he promised to be here by twelve.”
“I see. So, why are you calling me so early?”
“Hehe, about that...” Wooyoung chuckled nervously, and my intuition alarmed me that something was up.
“I have a huge favor, Hyung. I need you to come early. Like, ASAP.”
Oh, fuck. I could sense a disaster coming.
“Why do you need me early?”
“One of my models literally just canceled last minute, and we can’t find a substitute for him anywhere, sooooo...”
I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. Of course. Of course something like this had to happen on my one free weekend. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Please, Hyung! You’re the only one I trust who can actually walk a runway and look gorgeous on such short notice! Don’t worry, I’ll compensate you properly for it!”
“Gosh, you’re aggressive. Are you sure the clothes will even fit me?” I asked, realizing there was likely no escaping this. Knowing Wooyoung, he’d show up at my apartment and drag me out by my hair even if I said no.
“Thankfully, yes! The model who flunked out has a super similar height and build to yours. Plus, I think you’d look absolutely great in the specific line I worked on. You’ll see when you get here!”
I groaned, reluctantly giving in.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But I need to get ready as quickly as I can.”
“Yay! Thank you, Hyung!” Wooyoung squealed giddily. Then, his tone shifted into a sly whisper.
“By the way... I know Hongjoong-hyung is still over there with you. You guys can just come together! Get here ASAP!”
“I’d rather commute, thanks,” I said immediately, casting a wary glance back at Hongjoong’s broad shoulders.
“No way, commuting on public transport will take way too long, and I need you now,” Wooyoung shot me down instantly.
I sighed, my mind flashing back to the intense kitchen standoff we had just been in.
“Oho? Why the hesitation, Hyung?” Wooyoung teased over the line, sensing my internal crisis. “Did something happen between you two?”
“Shut up, Jung Wooyoung,” I scolded, keeping my voice low. “I’ll ask him. We’ll be there before eleven.”
I hung up the phone and turned back around. To my complete surprise, Hongjoong had handled the rest of the cooking perfectly. The plates were set, and the kimchi fried rice looked genuinely delicious, topped with perfectly fried eggs.
“Everything okay?” Hongjoong asked, sliding the spatula into the sink.
“Yeah. That was Wooyoung,” I explained, walking over. “Apparently, one of his models canceled last minute for the fashion show today. He practically begged me to fill in.” I paused, rubbing the back of my neck.
“He needs me there before eleven... so I was wondering if... if you could take me there on your bike after we eat?”
Hongjoong’s face instantly lit up, a brilliant, genuine smile taking over his features.
“Of course. I’d love to.” He began setting the plates on the small table. “Sit down, let’s eat.”
I looked skeptically at the perfectly golden eggs and bokkeumbap. “Are you sure this is safe to eat? You didn’t cast any spells for it to look this good, did you?”
Hongjoong smirked, leaning closer over the table. “Why don’t you try it and find out, Princess?”
Naturally, my face burned at the nickname, but I took a bite anyway. My eyes widened. It was incredibly savory, spicy, and perfectly seasoned. “Wow. This is actually really good.”
“Told you,” he said proudly, digging into his own portion. “I’ve practiced a lot and gotten way better since I got kicked out of that job. Couldn't let myself starve.”
We shared the rest of the meal in a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere, sharing small stories about our college lives. But as the minutes ticked by, a quiet nervousness began to settle into my stomach—not just for the modeling, but for the sheer realization of how deeply I was leaning into his presence. After we finished, I went to grab the plates, but Hongjoong firmly nudged me away from the sink.
“Nope. Go get ready. I’ll clean up.”
I didn’t argue. I quickly ran to the bathroom, took a lightning-fast shower, and hurried to my room to pick an outfit. Since it was a fashion department event, I figured I should dress up a bit. I opted for a pair of crisp, cream slacks and a loose, flowing white blouse, leaving the top couple of buttons casually open to highlight a small gold chain necklace for a little stylish flare and some light make-up. When I walked back out into the living room, Hongjoong was waiting. He had changed into fresh clothes too. He wore some rugged cargo pants, a fitted black shirt, and his signature leather jacket. He looked me up and down, a low whistle escaping his lips.
“Wow, Seonghwa. You look... incredible,” he said.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, looking away to hide my blush, though I couldn't help but admire how well the black shirt hugged his chest. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Let’s go,” he smiled, holding out San’s spare helmet, which my brother had conveniently left on the entryway table.
As we walked down to the parking lot and he unlocked his motorcycle, the morning air felt crisp. I was about to hop onto the back when Hongjoong paused, turning around to face me fully.
“Hey,” he said softly, his expression turning serious.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier. In the kitchen. For grabbing your arm like that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I was caught off guard by his sincerity. I adjusted my helmet, looking down at his bike.
“It’s fine. I just... I didn't want to come off like I was getting too comfortable around you too fast. We only just met yesterday.”
Hongjoong shook his head, then turned to mount on his bike. “I don’t mind you being comfortable around me at all, Seonghwa. I like it. But I’d never want to force anything on you if you aren't ready.”
My heart did a violent flip. Instead of answering with words, I stepped up, threw my legs over the seat behind him, and immediately wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, pressing my chest firmly against his back.
I felt him stiffen in surprise for a fraction of a second before a soft laugh escaped him. He started the engine, the powerful rumble vibrating through both of our bodies.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
As we tore down the city streets, my mind raced. I should have been completely panicked about walking a runway on zero notice, but the solid warmth of Hongjoong’s back and the steady grip of his hands on the handlebars kept me completely grounded. It felt safe. We arrived at the campus venue, which was already bustling with students, equipment, and loud music. The moment we stepped through the backstage entrance, a blur of energy slammed into us.
“Hyung! You made it!” Wooyoung squealed, sprinting over and immediately wrapping me in a tight hug. He pulled back, flashing a brilliant grin at the man next to me. “And you brought Hongjoong-hyung! Thanks for the delivery,.”
“Anytime, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong chuckled, completely welcoming the teasing wink Wooyoung threw his way. I just rolled my eyes, fighting a grin.
“Come on, we have no time to lose. Yeosang is waiting!” Wooyoung dragged me through the chaotic backstage maze, with Hongjoong following closely behind.
We entered a curtained fitting area where Yeosang, the head of outfits and adjustments, was intensely checking a rolling rack of clothes. The theme of Wooyoung’s line was ‘Bold’, a striking collection of genderless fashion.
“Yeosang, look who’s here!” Wooyoung announced.
Yeosang looked up, his calm eyes scanning me up and down before a look of pure relief washed over his face.
“Thank God. Your proportions are perfect for this.” He turned to the rack and wheeled out a specific garment.
I caught my breath. It was a draped, long-sleeved metallic bronze dress made of a soft, shimmery fabric that caught the lights beautifully. It featured a deep, overlapping cowl V-neckline designed to highlight the collarbones. To structure the look, a wide, classic brown leather belt with a heavy silver buckle was set aside to cinch the waist.
“Wow,” I whispered, genuinely in awe. “Wooyoung... you completely outdid yourself. But... are you sure this will look good on me? A dress?”
“It’s genderless, plus you’ll be wearing pants beneath it made from the same material, and trust me, you are going to elevate it,” Wooyoung said proudly, giving me a reassuring push toward the changing screen. “Now get in there!”
Ten minutes later, I stepped out. The shimmery bronze fabric flowed elegantly around my legs, yet the sharp cut of the shoulders kept it structured. Yeosang immediately went to work, dropping to his knees with a mouth full of safety pins to make minor adjustments to the hemline, while Wooyoung tightly fastened the leather belt around my waist.
“Look at that waist, I’m a literal genius." Wooyoung gasped, slapping his hands together.
While standing perfectly still on the pedestal so Yeosang could pin the fabric, my eyes wandered across the bustling backstage area. Through a gap in the curtains, I spotted Hongjoong. He was standing near the soundboard, talking to another guy. They looked incredibly close. Hongjoong was laughing, throwing his head back, and the other guy reached out to playfully shove his shoulder. A weird, uncomfortable weight suddenly dropped into the pit of my stomach.
Wooyoung, who possessed the observational skills of a hawk, noticed my sudden change in expression. He followed my gaze through the curtain.
“Ah,” Wooyoung said softly, his voice dropping its usual playful edge. “That’s Maddox. He’s our sound technician today.”
“Maddox?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Yeah. He was part of our crew back in the day. Him and Hongjoong-hyung actually dated for a while,” Wooyoung explained smoothly. “They split up a few months ago.”
My heart sank.
“Oh. Why did they break up? They still seem... really close.” A distinct hint of bitter jealousy laced my words before I could even stop myself. The gravity of what I was feeling hit me all at once. I didn’t just have a crush. I was deeply, heavily invested. Wooyoung let out a quiet giggle, nudging my leg.
“Oho? Is that a hint of jealousy I hear? Do you like Hongjoong-hyung like that, Seonghwa-hyung?” he teased.
I bit my lip, staring at the floor. “Maybe. A little. He stayed over last night... and we had breakfast together this morning. It just... felt nice.”
Wooyoung smiled warmly, looking up from where he was adjusting my sleeve.
“Don’t worry about Maddox, Hyung. It’s not what you think. Those two ended on good terms because they realized they were way better off as friends. What they had was more of a fling, honestly. Trust me, Hongjoong-hyung hasn't looked at anyone the way he was looking at you. I could tell just from the moment you both came here together. You can open up your heart to him a little more. He’s a good guy.”
I swallowed hard, contemplating Wooyoung’s words. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to push the thoughts of Hongjoong away for now. I needed to focus entirely on this modeling gig so I wouldn't embarrass Wooyoung on his big day.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Hongjoong's POV
“Yo, Hongjoong! Didn’t think I’d see you here today,” Maddox laughed, leaning against the audio console.
I was honestly a bit surprised to run into him, too. I’m not going to lie, talking to an ex can always be a little weird, but Maddox and I had parted on such good terms that our conversation flowed naturally. Still, as we chatted about the event’s sound cues, my eyes kept drifting toward the curtained dressing rooms on the other side of the stage. I hope Seonghwa doesn’t get the wrong idea if he sees us.
“So, you seeing anyone lately? Or are you still playing the field?” Maddox said, leaning in with a knowing smirk.
“Nah, I’m not seeing anyone,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. Then, I let my gaze drift openly back toward the dressing area where Seonghwa was getting ready.
“But... I definitely have my eye on someone.”
Maddox followed my gaze, a soft laugh escaping him.
“Ah. The tall, gorgeous guy Wooyoung dragged in? Good taste. But listen to me, man make a real decision this time. Not the same thing we had where everything was all superficial. Go for something real.” He smiled warmly, tapping his phone screen.
“Speaking of real, my new relationship has been going incredibly strong. He’s amazing.”
“That’s awesome, I’m really happy for you,” I said genuinely, clapping his shoulder.
Recognizing it was time to end the conversation before it got awkward, I excused myself and walked out into the main seating area. I spotted Jongho running around, aggressively organizing the VIP seating arrangements and coordinating with campus security. Seeing the sheer scale of the setup, a wave of realization hit me. If I wanted to capture Seonghwa’s heart, I couldn't just play around or be the casual, teasing biker guy forever. I needed to be serious. I needed to show him I could be someone dependable.
“Hey, Jongho,” I greeted him. “Need a hand?”
“Hyung! Good to see you here,” Jongho sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. “It’s chaotic. We actually landed a massive new corporate sponsor at the last minute, so a bunch of major modeling agencies are sending scouts here today.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? Scouts?”
I instantly thought of Seonghwa. He was, without a single doubt, one of the most stunningly attractive people I had ever laid eyes on. The thought of him walking out there in front of professional scouts sent a sudden thrill of excitement straight through my chest. I fought the intense urge to run backstage and see him. However, I knew better than to cross Wooyoung right before a show, the kid was a literal demon when he was in the zone and would rip the head off anyone who distracted his models. But according to some of the crew walking past, Seonghwa was currently getting his makeup done. A sudden thought struck me: He’s been working since he got here, and he probably hasn’t eaten lunch. I couldn't let him go out on that runway starving.
I quickly walked over to the edge of the backstage curtain, spotting Seonghwa sitting in a makeup chair. I caught his eye and waved him over.
“Hey,” I murmured when he walked over, trying not to stare too hard at how striking his features already looked with a bit of styling.
“I’m going to run out and grab some lunch before the show starts. You can’t go out there on an empty stomach. What do you want? I'll wish you good luck now, too.”
Seonghwa looked a bit surprised, his eyes softening. “Oh... thank you, Hongjoong. Honestly, just some takeout gimbap would be perfect. I might be hungry after we do rehearsals”
“Right on it. I’ll be right back,” I promised with a wink.
I jogged out to my bike and rode down the street to a nearby spot, quickly ordering the takeout. But as I waited for the food, I passed a small flower shop on the corner. On a total impulse, I walked in and purchased a gorgeous, vibrant bouquet of flowers. I was fully planning on handing them to the apple of my eye the second his feet left that runway. When I got back to the venue, I immediately flagged down Jongho.
“Hey, do me a favor. Hide this bouquet somewhere safe for me, and I’ll come grab it when the show ends.”
Jongho raised an eyebrow but nodded, stuffing the flowers under the registration desk.
“Got it, lover boy. Go deliver his food.” he teased. I guess I really was that obvious.
I made a straight beeline for the backstage area, finding Seonghwa with most of his makeup and hair nearing completion. My breath completely hitched in my throat, but I forced myself to walk over and hand him the bag.
“Here’s your gimbap. Do you want me to feed it to you so you don’t get anything dirty?” I teased, trying to lighten the sudden pressure in my chest.
Seonghwa shot me a sharp, flustered glare, though his cheeks flushed a pretty pink.
“Absolutely not. I can feed myself, thank you. By the way, thanks for the food.” he replied.
We sat down on a couple of folding chairs while he ate. “Are you nervous?” I asked softly. “There are a lot of people out there. More than we expected.”
Seonghwa swallowed a bite of gimbap, looking out toward the stage. “I am. A lot. But... honestly, I’m also really excited. As much as I hate to admit it to Wooyoung, I’ve actually realized I really enjoy modeling. I’m looking forward to today.”
I smiled warmly, looking at him.
“You’re going to absolutely kill it, Seonghwa. Seriously. Not everyone has the guts to step up and walk a fashion show on the exact same day with zero preparation. You look stunning, with or without fancy clothes and makeup.” I complimented him, was that too much? But I can’t help it when I’m just stating the facts here.
My words made him choke slightly on his food. He hurriedly stood up, his entire face completely red as he tossed his trash away. “I–I need to finish up with Yeosang. I think he’s done with the adjustments”
I laughed softly, standing up with him. “Go ahead. I’ll be watching from the left side of the stage.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
With thirty minutes left until showtime, San finally arrived, breathless, and slid into the seat next to me in the audience. I quickly filled him in on the emergency situation, explaining that his older brother was literally walking the runway last minute. San’s jaw dropped.
“What?! Wooyoung didn’t tell me anything! He’s been too busy to text me back all morning!”
By the time the lights began to dim, the venue was packed to maximum capacity. A ton of familiar faces from campus had crowded in, and the production value was phenomenal despite the college-level budget. Mingi and Yunho joined near our seating after hearing about Seonghwa’s participation. We engage in light chatter, a buzz of anticipation just before showtime. The bass from Maddox’s sound system vibrated deep in our chests. Shortly the MC stepped out, introducing the motif of the genderless ‘Bold’ collection. One by one, the models began to parade out, showcasing Wooyoung and his colleagues' brilliant work. I sat on the edge of my seat, my heart hammering in anticipation.
Then, the music shifted into a heavy, ethereal rhythm. And Seonghwa walked out.
The entire room seemed to collectively hold its breath. Going completely with the genderless theme, Seonghwa looked otherworldly. The shimmery bronze fabric clung to his frame, flowing gracefully with every stride, while the heavy silver belt perfectly accentuated his narrow waist. He looked incredibly elegant, almost feminine, yet the powerful, sharp line of his jaw and his intense gaze made it undeniable that he was a man beneath the structure of the attire. The makeup team had worked absolute magic on him. He was completely unrecognizable from the disheveled guy in his pajamas who walked in on me earlier. The memory of it made my stomach flip with embarrassment. But more than that, he looked more bothered than I was, so it was easy to regain my cool. Watching him command that runway, a terrifyingly real realization washed over. This was going to be the absolute death of me. My affections for him weren't just a fleeting crush. They felt entirely too real, completely consuming me, even though we had only been hanging out for less than twenty-four hours. The moment the show ended, the entire room erupted into deafening cheers and applause. A crowd immediately swarmed Wooyoung and the other designers for personal interviews about the collection. Excusing myself from the group, I didn’t waste a single second. I grabbed the bouquet of flowers from Jongho and practically sprinted backstage. I found Seonghwa standing by his clothing rack, glowing and breathless.
“Seonghwa! Congratulations. You were absolutely breathtaking out there.” I called out, walking up and holding out the flowers.
“Hongjoong,” he breathed, a radiant smile breaking across his face as he accepted the bouquet.
“Thank you. Look at this—” He proudly held up a sleek white business card. “One of the modeling agency scouts literally just handed me this. They want to set up a meeting soon.”
“Wow. That’s incredible, Seonghwa. You’re seriously talented, how am I not surprised” I said, feeling an intense wave of pride.
Before we could say anything more, Wooyoung gathered the entire cast and crew, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Listen up, everyone! Thank you for the support! Dinner and drinks are on me at the restaurant down the street! Let’s party!”. Everyone erupted, matching his excitement while simultaneously cleaning up the event.
The restaurant was loud and packed. By the time we sat down at the long tables, Mingi and Yunho had joined us. The moment they saw me and Seonghwa sitting right next to each other, both of them burst into giant, visible grins.
“Oh wow? Look who’s attached at the hip,” Yunho teased, leaning across the table.
Seonghwa immediately tried to act completely nonchalant, intently focusing on his food, but I just laughed, completely basking in the teasing now. I didn't care who knew anymore. After dinner, the core group composed of San, Wooyoung, Yeosang, Yunho, and Mingi decided to bring the afterparty back to the apartment for heavy drinks.
The living room quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of laughter, loud banter, and empty bottles. Seonghwa was thoroughly indulging himself in the alcohol, completely relaxed and laughing loudly with his friends. Across the room, Yeosang was actively trying to scold everyone to keep their voices down, though he was visibly wobbling from his own drinks, while Jongho was already completely passed out cold on the living room mattress. Around 1:00 a.m., Mingi and Yunho excused themselves to head home. Wooyoung was slumped on the couch, barely fighting off his drunkenness, flirting with San beside him, staring blankly ahead and listening attentively to a conversation only they could hear. I stood up from the floor and began quietly cleaning up the empty bottles and stray plates we had left around. Within seconds, a shadow fell over me. Seonghwa had stood up to help, picking up a stack of plastic cups.
“You don’t have to do that,” I murmured, smiling up at him.
“It’s my apartment,” he chuckled softly, his voice a little raspy from the alcohol.
A few minutes later, the living room went entirely quiet. We turned around to find both Wooyoung and San completely passed out cold on the couch alongside Jongho and Yeosang. The guests had officially taken over the entire place.
Seonghwa looked at the sea of bodies, a playful, slightly daring smirk touching his lips.
“Well... looks like the guests have officially taken over ‘your bed’.” he joked.
I laughed quietly, wiping my hands on a towel.
“I can probably squeeze in between Yeosang and Jongho on the mattress if I try hard enough.”
Seonghwa turned to me fully. The playful smirk vanished, replaced by an intense, heavy gaze that sent a shockwave straight to my body.
“Don’t do that,” Seonghwa whispered, his eyes locked onto mine. “Sleep in my room instead.”
My heart stopped. I stared at him, my mind scrambling. That was a bold move, an incredibly bold move, especially given how much he had been avoiding my touch all day.
“Are you sure about that, Seonghwa?” I asked, my voice dropping an octave.
“Are you sure you aren't going to regret asking me that tomorrow morning?” I asked, grasping for consent.
“I won’t,” Seonghwa said firmly.
Before I could even process his answer, he reached out, grabbed my hand, and dragged me down the hallway into his bedroom. He pulled me inside and shut the door behind us with a soft click, instantly cutting off the distance between us. The tension in the dark room was evident.
“Seonghwa, Do you really want this? Are we... thinking the same thing right now?” I breathed, placing my hands gently on his waist.
Seonghwa nodded, his eyes dark and dilated in the shadows.
“I’ve wanted this since the exact moment I saw you walk into our apartment,” he confirmed.
And with that, I didn't dare hesitate for another second.
I closed the remaining gap and slammed my lips against his. The kiss was warm, deep, and completely inviting, tasting faintly of the sweet liquor we had shared earlier. I had been starving for this all night. Moving ravagingly with every passing second, I deepened the kiss, letting all my built-up desire guide him backward until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. We tumbled onto the bed together, gasping for air as our lips parted for a fraction of a second. I quickly pushed myself up, kneeling over his waist, and reached down to pull off my heavy leather jacket. Seonghwa’s giving the most alluring bedroom eyes. Now making me lose all control. I discard my jacket to the side and give him another smoldering kiss. His moves are a bit tense, but I can tell he also wanted this. Seonghwa’s hands shifted to ruffling my hair as I focused my attention on exploring his gorgeous body. Buttons now flung open, exposing his bare chest to my view. I stared in awe, excited to work my magic on him. Seonghwa spoke softly, still heaving from earlier.
“Do you regret not purchasing that box of condoms now?” he asked, seemingly innocent.
Stopping on my tracks, his question caught me by surprise.
“You saw?” I asked.
“Mhmn” he mumbled. “I was wondering who you’re going to use it for. Then earlier today I saw you talking to your ex, it made me a bit. Well…”
“You sure are being honest today,” I replied.
“They’re for no one in particular, I just like to keep a stash, just in case something like this happens again,” the confession made him hum and giggle.
Propping myself up I reach out to my pocket to grab one I had placed inside my wallet. I make a swift movement to get the sachet out and bite it between my teeth while moving to take off my shirt.
I tossed it to the floor and turned back down to him, ready to pull him back into a kiss. And then.
I froze.
Seonghwa’s eyes were completely closed. His breathing was deep, even, and heavy. He was... completely fast asleep.
I stared at him in absolute, utter disbelief. After all this time, after pulling a dangerous move like that... he chooses to pass out right now?!
Then again, the realization of his crazy day hit me. He had ridden across the city, gotten thrown onto a last-minute runway with zero warning, walked a high-stress show, and drank his weight in alcohol. The poor guy was completely exhausted. A soft, affectionate laugh escaped my chest.
“What am I going to do with you, Seonghwa?” I muttered to myself.
I quietly got up and picked up the discarded shirt to dress myself, carefully lifted his head to slide a pillow underneath, and tucked him beneath the covers so he could sleep comfortably. Then, I slid under the blankets beside, propping myself up on my elbow to look at his peaceful, gorgeous face one last time.
He better make up for that kiss tomorrow, I thought with a grin. And it’s going to be way better when he’s completely sober.
I finally lay down, closing my eyes and letting myself drift off, praying he wouldn't forget what happened when he woke up.
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Seonghwa's POV
The next morning, I woke up to a splitting headache. I groaned, rolling over as the familiar throb of a hangover seeps in. I blinked against the morning light, my blurry vision slowly adjusting to the room. Then suddenly, I realized I wasn't alone. Lying right next to me, fast asleep with his arm thrown over his head, was Hongjoong. The memories of yesterday flooded back into my brain like a tidal wave—the fashion show, the food and flowers, the drinking, the conversations... and me violently dragging him into my bedroom by his hand. Flashes of our make-out session crept over despite my drunkenness. The that kissses we shared last night felt way better than what I had imagined in yesterday's dream. I'm so glad the alcohol did its thing. Thankfully or unfortunately, nothing scandalous happened. Leaning more on the unfortunate side here but at least I know he likes me too.
I jolted upright in bed, my heart instantly leaping into my throat. My sudden, frantic movement didn’t go unnoticed. Hongjoong stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. A lazy, incredibly attractive bed-head smile took over his face as he looked up at me.
“Good morning, gorgeous. You didn’t happen to forget what happened last night, did you?” ” he rasped, his voice thick with sleep. He leaned up on one elbow, his dark eyes locking onto mine. My entire face burst into absolute flames. I immediately threw my hands over my face, trying to hide the furious blush.
“I—I remember,” I muttered shyly.
Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, sliding closer across the mattress until his chest was inches from my knees.
“Good. Because if I recall correctly... we have some unfinished business. Can we continue where we left off right before you instantly fell asleep on me?”
He reached up, gently pulling my hands away from my face. I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, completely captivated. He began to lean in, his lips brushing against mine— and then.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A violent, aggressive knocking shattered the silence of the bedroom door.
“Seonghwa-hyung! Hongjoong-hyung! Get your lazy asses out of bed right now! Ya’ll can flirt later.” Wooyoung’s obnoxious voice screamed from the hallway. “Breakfast is ready, and if you don’t get out here in three seconds, San is going to eat all the bacon! Move it!”
We both froze, staring at the closed door in absolute shock before Hongjoong let out a heavy, deeply frustrated groan, flopping back onto the pillows. I couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped my lips. The absolute absurdity of our timing was hilarious. I leaned over him, placing a gentle hand against his chest, and leaned down to press a quick, firm, lingering kiss onto his lips.
“I’d love to pick up exactly where we left off,” I whispered against his ear, smiling as I felt his posture instantly melt.
“As soon as we’re completely alone again.”
I pulled away, threw the covers off, and walked out of the room to face the chaos of the kitchen, leaving a stunned, grinning Kim Hongjoong behind in my bed.