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The first time Baekjin meets Seongje, he’s fighting and it already annoys him. It’s a stupid thing to notice when someone is getting punched behind a gym, but Baekjin can’t help it. The angle of Seongje’s stance is wrong and the way he throws his weight forward is begging to get him knocked on his ass.
Baekjin watches for about ten seconds before it becomes unbearable. “Your balance is terrible.”
Two of the other boys freeze. The one throwing punches blinks at Baekjin like he’s just materialized out of thin air. Seongje, however, only wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth and tilts his head.
Baekjin steps closer, annoyed now.
“You’re leaning too much into it,” he continues, gesturing vaguely. “If he moves sideways you’ll fall over.”
One of the boys scoffs. “What are you, his coach?”
Baekjin shrugs. “It seems like someone has to be.”
The boy lunges again, but this time Seongje adjusts. His stance shifts just enough that the punch goes past him instead. It’s still pretty messy, but it works.
Seongje laughs, like he’s just discovered something wonderful.
“Do that again,” he says, eyes fixed on Baekjin.
Baekjin frowns. “Do what?”
“That thing you just did.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You told me what to do.”
Baekjin sighs, already regretting getting involved. “Your form is still bad.”
Seongje grins wider. And that’s how it starts.
Three years later, Baekjin is sitting on the low concrete wall behind the same gym, watching Seongje light what’s probably his third cigarette that day.
Seongje pushes his glasses up his nose with the back of his hand, then exhales slowly. “You look irritated,” he says.
“I’m not.”
Seongje hums like he clearly disagrees. Baekjin crosses his arms, staring at the cracked pavement instead of the smug expression he knows is waiting for him.
“He’s going to Hyuntak’s house today,” Baekjin says after a moment.
“Mm.”
“They had practice till late.”
“Mm.”
Baekjin finally looks at him. “Do you have an actual opinion or are you just going to keep making dumb sounds?”
Seongje smiles around the cigarette. “I have many opinions. None of them will make you happy.”
Baekjin scoffs. Across the small courtyard, a group of first years passes by loudly, and Baekjin waits until they’re gone before speaking again.
“Humin and I are fine.”
Seongje doesn’t answer immediately. He takes another slow drag instead. “Right,” he says eventually.
Baekjin narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Seongje says, tapping ash onto the ground, “you only say that when you’re trying to convince yourself.”
Baekjin feels the familiar irritation spark in his chest. “We’ve been together for two years.”
“Yes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” And he knows he sounds defensive already.
“I didn’t say there was.”
“You’re implying it.”
Seongje tilts his head slightly, studying him through the frame of his glasses. “I just think it’s funny,” he says lightly.
“What is?”
“That you spent half of the year I met you convinced Humin was abandoning you for his other bestie and now, even after dating for two years, you still can’t let that go.”
Baekjin looks away again. “That was different.”
Seongje watches him quietly for a moment. “Sure.. you still don’t like that they go to the same school.”
Baekjin clicks his tongue. “It’s not about that.”
“It kinda is.”
Baekjin glares at him. “You know how annoying you are?”
“And yet you keep coming here.”
Baekjin doesn’t answer. Seongje flicks the cigarette away and leans back on his hands, relaxed, like he enjoys this far too much. “What does Humin think you’re doing right now?” he asks.
“Studying.”
Seongje snorts.
“Technically not a lie,” Baekjin says. “You’re terrible at blocking, someone has to teach you.”
“You say that every week.”
“You’re still terrible at it, maybe I should retire.”
Seongje grins again, and Baekjin feels the familiar pull in his chest. A restless, electric craving, he tries very hard not to think about when he’s with Humin. Because Humin hates fighting. Back when they were younger, Humin was the one to teach him, but it’s like his actual desire for it made him an alien in his boyfriend's eyes.
So Baekjin stopped. Well, mostly. Except here, with Seongje.
“Fuck this, you’re thinking too hard again,” Seongje says.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Baekjin kicks lightly at Seongje’s shoe. “Shut up.”
Seongje laughs. Then, after a moment, he says what Baekjin knew was coming. “You and Humin don’t fit.”
He exhales slowly through his nose. “You say that every week too.”
“Because it’s still true.”
“Well,” Baekjin says flatly, “I’m still dating him.”
Seongje’s smile shifts into something smaller. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand anything.” Baekjin says, standing up from the wall.
Seongje looks up at him. “Have you ever considered that you might just be stubborn?” he says lazily.
“I know I’m stubborn.”
“No,” Seongje says, pushing himself to his feet. “I mean stubborn enough to keep something even when you know it’s not the best idea.”
Baekjin turns toward the exit gate. “We’re not having this conversation again.”
Seongje follows easily beside him. “I’d be much better for you, you know.”
Baekjin stops walking and slowly turns his head. Seongje’s expression is the same smug, infuriating smirk he always has when he says things like this. Like he’s joking. But Baekjin knows he’s not.
“Don’t start,” Baekjin says.
“I’m just saying.”
“I don’t care what you’re saying.”
Seongje shrugs. “Your loss.”
Baekjin starts walking again, faster this time. There’s a reason Seongje has never met Humin, Baekjin has been very clear about that. Even if he’s not entirely sure why, the thought of the two of them in the same room makes something deep in his chest twist in a way he doesn’t like.
It just doesn’t sit right, and Baekjin has learned over the years to just trust that feeling.
Later that week, Baekjin is halfway through a calculus problem when Humin drops onto the bed behind him with enough force to make the mattress bounce.
Baekjin’s pencil slips. “Seriously?”
Humin doesn’t answer right away. Instead, Baekjin feels arms wrap around his waist from behind, pulling him slightly away from his papers. “You’ve been studying for three hours,” Humin says into the back of his shoulder.
Baekjin fixes the line he messed up before responding. “Two hours and forty minutes.”
Humin groans dramatically and presses his forehead between Baekjin’s shoulder blades. He can practically feel the restless energy radiating off his boyfriend. Humin has always been like this, loud and impossible to ignore. Even when they were kids, when Baekjin would sit quietly doing homework, Humin would be upside down on the couch talking about five things at once. That never really changed, and part of Baekjin really loves that.
“You’re ignoring me,” Humin accuses.
“I’m studying.”
Humin huffs, but the sound turns quickly into a laugh. Baekjin feels the way Humin lifts himself slightly, leaning over his shoulder. Then lips brush the side of his neck.
“Humin,” he says.
The warning comes out softer than he intends. Humin hums against his skin, clearly not discouraged at all. His hands slide a little higher along Baekjin’s ribs. “Come on,” he says lightly. “You can take a break.”
Baekjin carefully sets his pencil down. “Humin.”
This time he turns his head slightly. Humin’s is already grinning, eyes crinkling like this is all a joke between them, that makes the next part harder.
Baekjin gently pulls Humin’s hands away from his waist. “Not right now.”
“Why not?”
Baekjin gestures vaguely toward the mess in front of him. “I told you. I have work.”
“You always have work,” Humin says, though there’s no real hurt in it yet. But Baekjin knows this conversation, they’ve had many versions of it before.
Humin leans forward again, clearly not ready to give up. “It’s been a while,” he says, tone dropping into something a little softer.
Baekjin knows that too. But right now, under his shirt, there’s still a dark bruise across his ribs. Another along his shoulder where Seongje caught him with a sharp elbow earlier that week. Nothing too serious, he remembers the rush of adrenaline it brought him. Still, if Humin pulls his shirt up even a little, he’ll see it immediately. And then there will be questions Baekjin doesn’t want to answer.
He reaches up and lightly taps Humin’s wrist. “Later,” he says.
Then Humin sighs, dramatically again, and flops sideways across the bed. “You’re the worst boyfriend,” he declares into the pillow.
Baekjin snorts despite himself. “You knew that when you agreed to date me.”
“That was two years ago,” Humin says, voice muffled. “I was young and naive.”
“You were sixteen.”
“Exactly.”
Baekjin turns back to his notebook, but a faint feeling of guilt pulls at him anyway. He knows it has been a while, between school, exams, and everything else, it’s easy for months to pass without either of them really noticing until moments like this. But they’ve gone through worse than a busy couple of months.
Baekjin glances back at him. Humin is now scrolling through his phone, humming to himself like the entire conversation already rolled off his back. Baekjin relaxes slightly, they’ll be fine.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Baekjin says.
Humin looks up immediately. “Dinner?”
Baekjin considers. “Probably.”
Humin smiles. “Then I forgive you.”
Baekjin shakes his head and returns to his calculus problem, pretending he doesn’t feel Humin’s eyes lingering on him for another few seconds before the room falls quiet again.
The first punch lands clean and Baekjin feels the impact all the way up his arm, the sharp crack of teeth against his fist, the stumble of the boy in front of him as his head snaps sideways. It feels so good. The guy barely has time to recover before Baekjin grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him backward into the brick wall behind the gym.
“You’re slower than I thought,” he says. The boy tries to swing back. It’s sloppy, so disappointing. Baekjin slips past it easily, he’s not even breathing hard yet.
Somewhere to his right, Seongje bursts into loud, delighted laughter. “Is that all you’ve got?” his friend shouts, voice loud with manic excitement. Baekjin glances over just long enough to see him duck under a punch and drive his fist straight into the other guy’s ribs.
The boy wheezes and Seongje laughs again. It’s the same sound Baekjin heard the first day they met, like violence is the most amusing thing in the world.
Trust Seongje to find them opponents out of nowhere. Baekjin didn’t even ask where these two idiots came from. They just appeared behind the gym like they always do, cocky and eager until the first hit lands. Then the confidence disappears.
Baekjin shoves his elbow into the first guy’s jaw and the random boy crumples. For a moment the world narrows into these simple movements and Baekjin feels alive in the worst possible way. There’s so much tension sitting under his skin lately, pressure building behind his ribs, clawing at his chest. But in here it has somewhere to go.
His knuckles slam into the guy’s cheekbone, and the boy drops to his knees with a strangled groan before getting back up slowly. Behind him, Seongje is still laughing. Baekjin catches flashes of him between movements, glasses slightly crooked, hair a mess, grin wide and feral. They move around each other without thinking, it’s a strange balance.
Baekjin ducks low while Seongje swings high. When Baekjin pushes someone back, Seongje slides in to finish the job. It’s messy and violent and... well, beautiful. Like some twisted dance they’ve practiced a thousand times. They’re nothing alike outside of this, but in here they share the same hunger. The same satisfaction that comes from letting everything loose.
In the end, it doesn’t take long, the two guys are already stumbling backward. One of them spits onto the pavement, glaring between the two of them. “Freaks,” he mutters.
Seongje grins wider. “Thanks.”
They don’t stay for round two, running away down the alley, stumbling until they disappear around the corner. Baekjin rolls his shoulders, flexing his hand; the adrenaline is still buzzing through him.
Seongje nudges one of the discarded backpacks with his foot. “That was disappointing,” he says.
Baekjin wipes a smear of blood from his lip with his thumb. “You found them.”
“They looked promising.”
“They lasted three minutes.”
Seongje pushes his glasses back up his nose. “You’re just in a bad mood, as usual.”
Baekjin doesn’t answer, because yeah, he is. The argument with Humin earlier keeps replaying in his head, the same fucking conversation, just a new variation of the same problem. Humin wanting his attention, some intimacy while he’s just too busy, already irritated. And still bruised under his shirt.
He knows that he should have just brushed it off. But Humin kept pushing and Baekjin snapped, calling his own boyfriend desperate. The damn word slipped out before he could stop it. The look on Humin’s face after... Baekjin clenches his jaw. He hates that look, hates not knowing what to do with it.
Seongje is watching him with that irritating, knowing expression. “Let me guess,” Seongje says. “Boyfriend problems.”
Baekjin exhales sharply. “Shut up.”
“Always the same, huh?” Seongje hums.
Baekjin shoots him a glare, but that doesn’t stop Seongje.
“You know,” he says, voice annoyingly calm, “this would be so much easier if you just broke up with him.”
Baekjin scoffs. “I’m not in the mood for this today.”
Seongje smiles slowly. “You don’t even want him.”
Baekjin’s head snaps up at that because what the fuck. “Watch it.”
“I mean it,” Seongje continues easily. “You spend more time with me than with your boyfriend.”
“That’s because you drag me into these stupid fights.”
“You could say no.”
Baekjin steps closer. “Drop it.”
Seongje doesn’t. “If you actually liked him-”
Baekjin grabs the front of his shirt, and the movement is fast enough to knock Seongje back a step. “Enough.”
Seongje just laughs softly. “There it is.”
Baekjin shoves him harder. “You think you know everything.”
“I know you.”
“You don’t.”
Seongje’s grin only grows. Baekjin can feel the same heat from earlier crawling back up his spine, the urge to hit something again.
“You’re still angry,” Seongje says around his stupid smirk.
Baekjin can’t deny it, he’s fucking furious
“Then hit me.” Seongje spreads his arms slightly. “Come on.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
Baekjin shoves him again, but this time Seongje shoves back. And suddenly they’re moving. Just sharp, quick hits, the two of them pushing to see how far they can go. Baekjin lands a punch to Seongje’s shoulder and then Seongje hooks his foot behind Baekjin’s ankle and nearly sends him down. Instead, they crash into the nearest wall.
Baekjin grabs his collar again, breathing harder now. Seongje’s face is close and there’s something in his eyes Baekjin doesn’t like.
“You see?” Seongje murmurs.
“See what?”
“You like this.”
Baekjin’s grip tightens. “Just... shut up.”
“You and me,” Seongje continues, voice low, “we understand each other.”
Baekjin can feel his pulse in his throat. “This is stupid.”
Seongje smiles. “You feel it too.”
Baekjin should let go but he just shoves him harder against the wall.
Seongje’s laugh is breathless this time. “You’re proving my point.”
“Keep talking,” Baekjin says, “and I’ll break your nose.”
“Worth it.”
But Seongje doesn’t give him space to finish. He follows immediately, closing the gap again like he expects resistance and just doesn’t care. There’s nothing hesitant about him, just that same reckless certainty he brings into every fight and bad decision.
Baekjin’s hand comes up between them, pushing against Seongje’s chest. “This is stupid,” he says, voice tight.
It should be easy to step away, to shove him off properly this time and walk out like this never happened. But Seongje just looks at him, eyes sharp behind his glasses, breathing just as uneven.
“You’re not really pulling away,” he says quietly.
Baekjin’s jaw tightens. “I am now.”
“Eh, not really.”
There’s something infuriating about the way he says it, like he already knows how this goes. Baekjin pushes him back harder this time, enough for Seongje’s shoulders to hit the wall again.
“Stop talking.”
Seongje smiles. It’s the same smile he wears during a fight, like he’s right where he wants to be. It makes Baekjin's blood boil.
“Make me.”
That does it. Baekjin grabs him again, only to slam him back into the wall again. The movement is harsh, fueled by everything clawing under his skin.
“You don’t get-”
Seongje cuts him off by kissing him again. It’s worse this time, because Baekjin is ready for it. He feels it coming and still doesn’t move fast enough to stop it. At first, he holds himself rigid, every instinct in his body screaming that this is wrong.
Humin. The word flashes through his head. The look on his boyfriends face earlier, the hurt. The guilt hits just as fast, but it mixes with something else. He knows what it is, it’s the same rush from earlier, the heat still sitting under his skin from the fight. From the argument, from everything he hasn’t been able to let out.
And Seongje… well, Seongje fits into that space too easily. He was made for it.
Baekjin exhales sharply through his nose, grip tightening in Seongje’s shirt as he tries to pull back again. But this time it’s weaker, a pathetic display of fake force. Seongje notices right away and takes advantage of it. His hand slides up, catching Baekjin’s wrist. He’s testing the boundary instead of breaking it, for once.
“Stop thinking so much,” Seongje murmurs against him.
Baekjin lets out a strained laugh, despite everything. “That’s what I do.”
“Yeah,” Seongje says. “Let me stop that”
This is his last chance to step back, he knows he really should. Instead, his grip shifts, pulling Seongje closer. His brain shuts down again, but differently this time. The lingering edge of violence still threads through both of them, it's so intoxicating.
The kiss is intense from the start, both of them pouring years of desire into it. It’s messed up, he knows it is. Knows exactly how wrong it feels, how wrong it should feel. It's amazing.
And underneath it all, that same realization settles heavy in his chest. Seongje understands this part of him, the part he keeps hidden. The part Humin would never understand. Baekjin’s eyes flutter shut, finally. This is exactly the kind of mistake he doesn’t walk away from easily. He knows it, but he doesn’t stop.