Archive of Our Own

Seonghwa’s head is throbbing by the time they get to Sahara. He’s been dreading it all day, really. The heat has been tolerable, tamped down by a subtle breeze, but here at Sahara with all the bodies pressing together as the music pounds louder it’s unbearable. Wooyoung seems to enjoy it- revels in it, in fact, tugging on Seonghwa’s hand and dancing as he pulls them towards the large crowd.

He’s only ever been to Coachella once before this and promptly decided it wasn’t necessary to do so again. Even after his PR managers begged him to accept invitations, he refused and turned towards smaller modeling jobs to use as an excuse to miss out on the event. The music was always interesting, and there were more than a few headliners that he actually wanted to see- but it was far too loud, far too smelly, and he always ended the night with a migraine and blisters from the pretentious shoes his stylists insisted he wear from brand deals.

This year, however, he knew he couldn’t miss it for the world. South Korea’s biggest boy group as of recent, who also happened to be his five close friends, were making their Coachella debut and Seonghwa refused to not go and support them. They appeased him, saying they understood his desire to skip out on the festival the previous years, but he stood his ground. He ignored the memory of his burning nose and achy feet, and promised his friends that he’d see them there.

Just thirty minutes earlier, Yunho had texted their group chat to inform Wooyoung and Seonghwa that the audience was steadily filling up with their fans ever since the gates had opened at one, evident by the lightsticks and how they were decked out in merch rather than outfits of the typical Coachella aesthetic. Seonghwa couldn’t understand how they managed to stand around and wait for that long, especially as the day progressed and the stream of ravers came to enjoy the high-energy music.

The crowd swells as a beat drop approaches, and a drunk and rowdy couple almost stumbles into Seonghwa as he tries to locate the masked face of Ateez’s manager awaiting them. He’s incredibly grateful for the artist pass wrapped around his wrist, dreading even the idea of having to squeeze through the sweaty bodies just to get as close to the stage as possible. However, even the artist pass section was packed. His friends’ fans really didn’t spare any expense just to see the group, he thinks to himself with a slight air of pride.

“Ugh, I wish I could rave too,” Wooyoung whines, his grip tightening around Seonghwa’s hand. “But Sannie is going to throw a fit if he can’t see me from onstage.” 

He shakes his head at his friend, but smiles anyway. Wooyoung is more scantily clad than himself, the man wanting to avoid sweating as much as possible. It works, though, because there’s barely a droplet on his furrowed brow as he walks determinedly, kicking up dirt. Unlike Seonghwa, Wooyoung has never turned down an opportunity to attend the festival. He’s quite the “party” guy, and Seonghwa finds himself feeling eternally grateful to have someone much more well-educated in the party scene to accompany him.

“Look, there’s Eunwoo-ssi!” Wooyoung points at a familiar man dressed in all black. Seonghwa sighs with relief as he waves them over, signaling for them to move quicker.

They barely have time to greet him properly before they’re being ushered into the entrance. Thankfully, Sahara has a separate area for friends and family, or other people with deeper connections within the industry. The barricaded square is filled, no doubt with acquaintances of the current DJ up on stage, so Seonghwa and Wooyoung settle off to the side to allow them easy access to the exit when the set is over. He’s comforted knowing he’ll be able to breathe easier once they leave.

His hands latch onto the black metal of the barricade as he heaves out a sigh, willing the ache in his head to settle just a bit. He can’t wait for the adrenaline of seeing his friends onstage to soothe the pain. Next to him, Wooyoung has started to shift back and forth on his feet, dancing along to the music. 

“He’s so hot!” An arm comes around his shoulder, jostling him a little bit. Seonghwa lifts his head from where it’s buried in his arms.

“Who are you talking about?!” Seonghwa tries to yell over the loud bass. “San is going to be sad if he hears you calling another man ‘hot!’”

Wooyoung nods towards the stage, a lazy grin on his face. “No1LikeMe!” He tosses his head back as he laughs, hand falling off of Seonghwa as he jumps. Only once he’s thoroughly out of breath does he continue what he’s saying, deciding to speak directly into Seonghwa’s ear. “Kim Hongjoong. Famous for moving out of our homeland and into the L.A. scene as a badass DJ.” Seonghwa can hear the tone of awe in his friend’s voice. “He produces too- mixes his own stuff all the time. If you’ve ever attended one of our after parties, you’d have heard of him for sure!”

Seonghwa ignores the subtle dig at his tendency to not show up at industry events and directs his attention to the stage. The DJ, No1LikeMe, has his head tipped down towards his turntable, hands flying across the surface. The shadow of a hat covers his face, but Seonghwa can still catch a glimpse of fiery orange hair under it. He leans forward, subconsciously trying to catch a better look.

He doesn’t have to wait long before the man lifts his head, raising an arm as he sidesteps to the beat. His nose is scrunched up, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he observes the crowd in front of him. It’s impressive, the way their energy is explosive as they jump up and down, arms raised to mirror the DJ. His mouth slips into a grin as he realizes just how hyped up the audience is and his eyes slide slowly across them, taking it all in.

It’s impossible for Seonghwa to miss the way Hongjoong’s eyes do a double take when they find him amongst the mass, because Seonghwa’s eyes are locked onto the man as well. Their moment of eye contact sends a jolt of electricity crawling up his spine. He stands up straighter and gulps, thankful that Wooyoung is far too distracted dancing next to him to notice. He excuses it as a coincidence and smiles distractedly when his friend hugs him from behind and sways them to the beat.

But it takes all of five minutes for Seonghwa to realize it keeps happening. Even when he isn’t looking, which isn’t often because Kim Hongjoong’s energy seems to be magnetic. The man’s eyes are on him- or at least, pointed in his direction. He still can’t tell whether the man is truly staring, so he tries for a wave. He keeps it at chest level, lest someone else sees it and it gets embarrassing, and is surprised to see the DJ’s face split into a grin once more.

He’s starting to sweat now, droplets forming on his neck as he hides his face in his shoulder. No1LikeMe. Is looking at him. He takes the handkerchief secured in his belt loop and dabs at his face, especially grateful for the waterproof makeup his stylists had decided to put into his bag.

He doesn’t want to look away- can’t look away, when the man sheds off his cropped denim jacket, revealing a tattoo of his stage name on his bicep. It’s pretentious. It makes heat curl in his stomach and his grip on the barricade tighten. Hands find the jacket immediately as it falls to the floor. All the people that form a bubble around him grasp for it excitedly. The DJ barely spares them a glance as he looks back at Seonghwa. 

No1LikeMe looks fucking untouchable onstage, with adoring men and women, who stay a respectable distance to let him work his magic, but obviously want to get closer, surrounding him. Yet, his eyes are on one person in the crowd.

The music quiets down just a bit as he grabs the microphone. “This is the last one so I want you to have fun for me, Coachella!” he yells. His voice is smoother than Seonghwa had expected, but there’s a little growl to it when he says, “Are you watching?” Then, that sickening scrunch of the nose that has Seonghwa a little dizzy.

He focuses in as Hongjoong loses himself to the music. The turntable seems to just be an extension of himself, and a small smile crawls onto Seonghwa’s face when he realizes that he’s watching real passion unfold in front of him, the most plausible reason why he finds the man so alluring. It’s the reason he finds himself moving to the beat on his own accord. Faintly, he hears Wooyoung cheer next to him as his hands leave the barricade for the first time since they got there and root themselves in his hair.

They slide down his body and he laughs as Wooyoung knocks their hips together playfully. Slyly, he turns his head to the side to find Hongjoong looking at him, rather than his hands that are flying across the table. I’m watching, Seonghwa hopes his eyes say. I’m watching and I’m having fun.

The rest of the set passes by in a daze. He dances freely with Wooyoung and has many other staring contests with the DJ on stage. Vaguely, he remembers thinking he should be drunk for this, but he’s not. He’ll remember every single unfiltered, reciprocated gaze from the man. He’s not sure whether to be excited or to let the nerves run rampant throughout his body. And he barely registers when the music stops, the beat stops pounding, and the smell of weed becomes glaringly obvious once more.

People start filing out of the barricaded section as cheers and applause ring in his ears. Out of breath and clearing the dryness from his throat, he turns to Wooyoung whose eyes are sparkling with mischief. “Not bad, huh?” He pokes at Seonghwa’s bicep.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa can’t do anything but nod. “Yeah, that was cool.”

Staff members are hauling the turntable off of the stage by the time Seonghwa looks back. The last traces of No1LikeMe’s performance are steadily disappearing as ravers blend in with excited k-pop fans. He accepts a water bottle from a staff member, chugging it greedily and crushing the empty bottle in his hands. New people enter their section, looking at him excitedly, most likely out of recognition. He knows that some of Ateez’s more dedicated fans follow his content and modeling gigs as well, after his appearances in his friends’ social media accounts. But he can’t find himself able to greet them as he usually would.

He leans against the barricade, breathing heavily. The ache in his head is already returning, and it makes him realize that, by some miracle, it had faded during the rave. Before they had arrived at Sahara, Seonghwa thought that the environment would’ve had the opposite effect. But he thinks about Kim Hongjoong’s intoxicating gaze and the sense of euphoria it had given him to bask under it. He can feel his face heating up, and not just from the desert weather.

Never has he reacted this way to someone in his entire life.

He zones out, eyes falling to the dirt below him, trying to count the amount of empty plastic bottles littering the ground. Someone next to him on the other side of the barricade mentions Jongho, another rambling on about how excited they are to see Mingi and Yeosang’s partner-choreo. Steadily, it goes through one ear and out the other. He isn’t sure how much time is left until his friends take the stage, but he doesn’t bother to take out his phone and check. He recognizes the set pieces that the staff are rolling out now- he’d seen them far too many times in the background of video calls with San during rehearsal.

He doesn’t startle when the crowd next to him shifts and a hand lands on his shoulder. At first he thinks it’s Wooyoung, but after turning around he comes face to face with No1LikeMe himself. The man who shamelessly stared him down onstage. The man Seonghwa had practically been undressing with his eyes just moments ago.

The DJ is out of breath, orange hair messy. His jacket, and now cap, were still gone and his black shirt was slightly untucked. Streams of sweat run down the side of his face and Seonghwa has to resist the urge to take his handkerchief and wipe them away.

Gently, he takes Seonghwa’s arm and brandishes a marker. He uncaps it with his mouth easily and starts urgently scribbling a stream of numbers on the model’s arm. “Please,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa can note the faint hint of a Korean accent in his English, “find me later.” He caps the markers and smooths a thumb over the phone number, offering one last smile before he’s being whisked away by who Seonghwa assumes is his manager.

Seonghwa can only stare at his arm blankly, even after Wooyoung grasps his elbow with a dumbfounded look on his face and asks, “Did I miss something?!”

Carefully, he takes his handkerchief and wraps it around his arm, right over the numbers, in an effort to protect it like it was some sacred scripture. He smiles and shrugs at Wooyoung, who rolls his eyes and smacks his shoulder playfully.

“We will talk later,” he says pointedly, voice rising in order to be heard over the fans beginning to chant his friends’ group name.

He steels himself, remembering what he came to Coachella to do in the first place, taking out his phone and recording a video of the fans to send to Yunho later. He needs to be focusing on his friends. He needs to erase the image of the charming, orange-haired man from his mind. Just momentarily.

♬⋆.˚

The area with clusters of trailers behind Sahara is bustling with post-show excitement when Wooyoung and Seonghwa finally arrive. They are able to quickly locate their friends, who are huddled together and chattering loudly.

Wooyoung runs ahead and crashes into the group, laughing raucously. They envelope him into a hug quickly, but not before beckoning for Seonghwa to join them. He jogs a bit to catch up, sliding easily between Yeosang and Jongho.

“Hyung, how did we do?” Mingi jumps enthusiastically, jostling the whole group. The hug falls apart after that, but they still stick close together.

“Amazing,” Seonghwa gushes, reaching up to pinch Mingi’s cheek. “I have videos to send later. Everyone loved it, I’m so proud!” Wooyoung nods in agreement, earning happy applause from Yeosang. 

He lets his eyes slide away from the group glancing around hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who had scrawled on his arm. For a second, he thinks of untying the handkerchief from his arm to reveal the number, but he knows doing so would warrant a barrage of questions from his friends. He would need to slip away somehow.

“Yunho, is there a bathroom here? I haven’t been able to pee all day,” he tries, bouncing on his feet with false urgency for good measure. “Wooyoung has been dragging me wherever he wants to go without any breaks.” 

The taller man points behind him with his thumb towards a wide building. Seonghwa cheers to himself and says thanks as he dashes towards the bathrooms. It’s air conditioned, much to his relief, and as soon as he locks himself in a stall he’s sliding the cloth off of his arm. It’s embarrassing, the way his hand tremors a little as he types in the number. He’ll have to wash it off later once he’s done.

Seonghwa

Hi

???

hi

I hope this is Park Seonghwa

Seonghwa

This is he

What would you have done if it wasn’t?

No1likeme?

ive been blocking anyone who isnt u all night

can i see u?

Seonghwa

Um

I’m hiding in the bathrooms

Behind Sahara in the artist compound

So maybe not right now?

No1likeme

no

stay there

ill come to u

Seonghwa thinks of replying and telling him not to, but he has the suspicion it wouldn’t have worked. So, he unlocks the stall and rushes towards the sink doing his best to scrub the marker off of his arm. It fades, not completely, but well enough. He smooths his hair down and makes sure there isn’t any dirt on his face. He’s not sure what is going to happen- or what he wants to happen, but all he knows is he always makes a good first impression.

He washes his hands for a good five minutes until the door swings open. There stands the fiery-haired man, now dressed in casual clothes with a smile on his face.

“Park Seonghwa,” he breathes out, approaching slowly.

“No1LikeMe,” Seonghwa replies, as calmly as his brain will allow, shaking the water off of his hands.

“Kim Hongjoong,” he corrects. He shakes his head, stalling in his steps. “Sorry I-” he chuckles, “I'm kind of stunned right now.”

Seonghwa leans against the sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Am I allowed to know what you want to do with me? Because I should really return to my friends soon and I don’t want them to have questions that I can’t really answer.” He feels like a fake, acting all relaxed when, in fact, his heart is hammering against his chest. Kim Hongjoong looks different than he did on stage, yet he still maintains that same alluring presence. Seonghwa hasn’t been disappointed yet.

“Ateez. Yes, I’m a fan.” At that, Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. Never had it crossed his mind that this may be a ploy to earn connections. He feels his heart beginning to slowly sink with shame. But Hongjoong steps closer, waving his hands panickedly, “That’s not why I’m here!” He reaches forward but quickly retracts his hand. “I’m here for the reason that I- I hope you’re here for.”

“That is?” he pushes. Say it, he urges silently. Say it so I don’t have to.

“From on stage. I thought you were beautiful,” Hongjoong replies softly. “I saw you and I thought, ‘Damn it, if I can’t have him what on Earth am I doing here?’” The intense eye contact he’s holding could have fooled Seonghwa into thinking that the man wasn’t wracked with nerves.

He has to bite back a smile as he grasps Hongjoong’s elbow gently. “We can talk,” he whispers into his ear before leading them out of the bathroom. His friends still stand where he left them, and Jongho is the first to notice his approach, raising an eyebrow when he sees who’s tailing behind him.

Unfortunately, Wooyoung sees them next and gasps loudly, bouncing on his feet excitedly. He hangs onto San’s bicep, shaking the other man aggressively. Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong in front of him, not so subtly, and stares at the back of his head expectantly.

Awkwardly, Hongjoong shakes all of their hands individually, bowing politely. Yeosang looks like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you all!” he says once he finally reaches the last member. “I love your work- we’ll have to collaborate sometime.” He glances over his shoulder at Seonghwa, who makes no moves to assist him. “I was hoping that I…could steal Seonghwa for a while? I wanted to spend some time with him.”

Wooyoung looks like he’s won the lottery as he nods ecstatically. “Take him, he's all yours!” He waves his hand dismissively. “We have the rest of the weekend to spend with him, right guys?”

The rest of the guys nod, although Mingi pouts a tiny bit. Seonghwa steps forward to give them all hugs, taking extra care to whisper compliments into their ears. “I might see you later,” he assures Yunho, patting his shoulder. “Text me when you get to your airbnb, okay?” Once he’s received a thumbs up he turns to Hongjoong. “Lead the way,” he says, and the DJ startles before waving and bowing politely once more.

Hongjoong’s hand finds the small of his back, but he avoids Seonghwa’s eyes at all cost. He can feel impatience slowly building up in his chest. “Where are you taking me?” he tries.

“My place,” Hongjoong says, halting in his steps, “if that’s okay?” His fingers start tapping anxiously where they rest and Seonghwa just wants to laugh so badly.

“God, yes, I’m exhausted. That would be great.” He’s finding it incredibly difficult to act calm when Hongjoong grins and seems to walk faster. They make it to the parking lot eventually and Hongjoong locates his car- a sleek, black sports car. Seonghwa knows nothing about cars, but it looks incredibly expensive.

When he slides into the leather seat and Hongjoong shuts his door, he thinks about his own car somewhere in that same parking lot. If he wanted to leave, this was probably his last chance to do so conveniently. If he didn’t want to go home with Hongjoong, he could get out and walk away.

“I can trust you, right?” he turns to the man in the driver’s seat who looks at him amusedly.

“I feel like you should have asked that before you got in the car.” He laughs and begins backing out. “If I do anything that upsets you, even just the tiniest bit, I’m expecting you to walk out and never come back, Seonghwa.”

At that, he relaxes into the seat. He thinks he sees his car on the way out of the lot, but he just smiles and stares out the windshield. It’s too early, by Coachella standards, so there’s no traffic as they speed down the long stretch of road.

“I take it you don’t attend very often?” Seonghwa doesn’t expect Hongjoong to try for conversation, but the man finally seems to be loosening up in his presence.

“You can tell?” He shifts so he’s facing the driver. The seatbelt feels too constricting and he hopes that they reach Hongjoong’s place soon.

“Actually, I uh-” Hongjoong glances at him, so quickly Seonghwa could have missed it if he was any more tired. “I follow you. On social media. You never post about going so I assumed you don’t.”

“You’re kidding,” he whispers, already pulling out his phone and opening up Instagram. He types in No1LikeMe and immediately locates his profile. The follow back button stares at him when he opens it and he feels his face heat up. “You really are, I’m impressed.” He tucks his phone under his thighs and presses himself deeper into the seat.

“What, you aren’t going to follow me back?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow and laughs.

“Maybe later.” Seonghwa shrugs. “It depends on what happens.”

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, aside from the occasional drum of Hongjoong’s fingers on the wheel at a red light or the music streaming out of the radio. It’s more pleasant than Seonghwa had expected, and he’s grateful for it after a long day out at the festival. He’s elated when Hongjoong pulls into a long driveway. A few more minutes in the car and he’s sure he would’ve fallen asleep.

Hongjoong’s hand finds his back again as they step into the house. Seonghwa sighs with relief once he slides off his shoes, wiggling his toes. He gets to the couch immediately, not even asking before curling up on it. 

“Do you want anything to eat? Drink?” Hongjoong pads towards the kitchen, pulling the fridge open.

“Just a snack is good. And I’m sure you have wine somewhere in here.” He can feel himself sinking deeper into the cushions, but he wants to stay awake- wants to keep talking to Hongjoong. He approaches with two wine glasses and gives one to Seonghwa, who holds it as he pours a steady stream of red. A bowl of chips gets set down on the couch between them before he does the same for himself.

“You’re really tired, huh?” Hongjoong pouts and reaches to brush a strand of Seonghwa’s hair to the side once he’s seated. Fingertips graze his cheekbones and he almost shivers. But he simply nods and raises the glass to his lips. “You should skip out on tomorrow. Stay in and rest. I heard the lineup on Sunday is better anyways.”

“My friends would be upset,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “It’s not often that we get to spend time together on schedules like this so we wanted to make the most of it before we have to fly back home.” It’s easy to pretend, for all of them, that their life is different inside the makeshift walls of palm trees and strategically placed stages, not a moment passing by where there isn’t music flowing in one ear and out the other. The boys had always dreamt of going to Coachella, only Wooyoung and Seonghwa having opportunities to go due to sponsorships and such. They had a career where their schedules had room for the festival, but Ateez did not. That was another reason why Seonghwa was so eager to accompany them this year.

“I’m sorry I stole you away from them.” Hongjoong pouts, looking sincerely regretful. 

“I wanted to be here, don’t feel guilty.” He shrugs. “And when we fly back home they’ll have a little bit of free time before the idol life sweeps them up again. I can never be mad, though, they love their job.” He smiles, thinking about how happy his friends are whenever they’re onstage- tonight was proof enough. “Music just seems to come naturally to people like you guys.” 

Hongjoong reaches for a chip, nibbling on it bashfully. “It’s been my passion forever, really. Not a day goes by where I ever regret choosing it.”

Seonghwa’s heart warms at that and he feels his smile grow. “That’s attractive, you know.”

“What, passion?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow and Seonghwa nods, earning a laugh. “Well, I’m glad you think that’s the case because I have a lot of it.”

“Why did you decide to become a DJ? It suits you well,” he leans in closer, “I wanna know more,” he mumbles lazily.

Squinting at him, Hongjoong takes his glass and sets both of them on the coffee table. “Come with me.” He places a supporting hand on Seonghwa’s elbow as he tugs him off the couch. “I’ll show you my stuff.”

He leads them down a hallway, passing by rooms until they reach one at the very end of the hallway. It’s the only one with a light still on, and when Hongjoong pushes the door open, Seonghwa’s eyes immediately fall on a large bed, sheets still tucked into the sides and pillows still perfectly fluffy. It looks inviting, calling out to Seonghwa’s exhaustion-filled brain. Hongjoong walks right past it towards the wooden desk and he has no choice but to follow, perching on the edge of the mattress closest to it.

Across the surface are various musical equipment that look far too technical and have too many buttons for Seonghwa to possibly understand. The colorful squares and different sliders look intimidating and complex, and he tucks his hands behind his back out of fear he might touch something he’s not meant to.

Additionally, at the head of the desk there’s a mini keyboard. There isn’t just one, but three notebooks open to pages filled with words and scribbles. Seonghwa can recognize both Korean and English, and there are wires tangled in the spirals of the notebooks. Hongjoong reaches for a laptop and flips it open, showcasing even more sliders and colorful bars. 

“My livelihood.” Hongjoong runs a finger over the words etched into the papers. “I started as a producer in South Korea, which was fun at first! But I found myself feeling stuck and in need of change.” He reaches for a wire, bunching it up to the side. “The Los Angeles music scene was colorful, just that kind of fast paced thing I was looking for at the time.” He flips through a few pages. “While I found my footing and started working again, I wanted to immerse myself in a few more talents. This stuff,” he gestures at the boards of buttons and sliders, “began as a hobby.”

“So you only DJ-ed for fun?” Seonghwa tilts his head.

“Yes,” Hongjoong softens. “I taught myself. I’m still learning. If you look at my watch history from this past week, you’ll just see hundreds of videos about it.”

Seonghwa feels as though his brain freezes over in awe. Hongjoong, No1LikeMe, the DJ with electric energy onstage, had taught himself everything he knew about his career. Self taught. “I can’t even fathom how that’s possible, onstage it looks so-” he flops backwards onto the bed, “so innate.”

“Well I could say the same for you.” The bed dips as Hongjoong kneels on it, tucking his legs under himself. “You were born to be a model.”

Seonghwa presses his cheek into the blanket, facing the other man. “Far from it. ‘Took me years.” Hesitantly, Hongjoong slides a hand over to where Seonghwa’s hair is splayed out beneath him. He holds his breath as it takes root, fingers running through strands.

“I never would have guessed. You’re a star on the runway,” Hongjoong says quietly.

“Oh no, I used to hate my face. I refused to look at it and I was devastated when I stopped growing.” Seonghwa lets his eyes close, remembering his past. “So many times I considered getting cosmetic surgery, but I could never bring myself to do it.”

“Why not?” Hongjoong asks, leaning over to peer at his face.

“Content creators get criticized for that kind of stuff too. And making my content was the only thing saving me from falling apart when I was working towards my modeling career.” It was a source of comfort, to be able to post about his interests for people who cared while he was constantly being judged elsewhere. 

“I always thought you were beautiful.” Hongjoong says it so simply that it makes Seonghwa’s breath stutter in his chest. His hand moves to rest on his cheek. “My first Paris Fashion Week, two years ago. I knew about you, but you were always just another person on the internet.”

“That long?” Seonghwa gasps, leaning into his touch.

“Mhm,” Hongjoong hums, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “As soon as I saw you walk down that runway, I was gone,” he says wistfully. “I never thought I’d get to see you in person again, so imagine my surprise when I saw you in the audience tonight. I knew this was my shot to impress you.”

Seonghwa giggles. Impress him he did. “Raves really aren’t my scene. I probably wouldn’t have gone if my friends weren’t performing after you,” he teases. “But it turns out you’re not what I expected at all, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Well what did you expect, Park Seonghwa?” 

“Danger.” A hand reaches for the collar of Hongjoong’s shirt and it twists in his grip. “Rougher around the edges.”

“And now what do you see?”

“A gentleman.” He laughs, moving his hands to the mass of orange hair atop Hongjoong’s head. “I never would have guessed. I even wondered how many of those people with you onstage you fucked.”

That earns a raised brow and a smirk. “Four or five, and not more than once.”

“Did they matter? Do they?” He turns his head to the side slowly, pressing a kiss onto Hongjoong’s palm, and he swears he sees the man’s gaze waver. 

“No,” Hongjoong replies resolutely. “They never stood a chance.”

♬⋆.˚

It takes a few minutes for Seonghwa to realize that he hasn’t woken up in his own room. He can feel the gust of wind from the air conditioner, but sunlight streams in from the window, blanketing his body. Then, in his peripherals he captures a view of a desk with equipment scattered all over it, and he realizes he never left Hongjoong’s airbnb.

The man himself enters the room, eyes widening when he sees Seonghwa sitting up on the bed. His expression softens when Seonghwa grumbles sleepily, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Hongjoong whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair is clipped back, away from his face that is matted with foundation.

“What happened?” Seonghwa mumbles, shrinking slightly in his clothes from last night. He looks entirely unattractive right now, a tumbleweed of oily hair on top of his head and his skin feeling spectacularly dirty. His nose still burns slightly, no doubt from dirt, and he sniffles quietly.

“I guess we were both tired. We were talking and then knocked out in the middle of our conversation.” Hongjoong reaches over and smooths the hair away from Seonghwa’s forehead. Now, in the morning and bathed in sunlight, he looks even gentler than he did the previous night.

Seonghwa feels himself melting, scooting over and timidly laying his head on the man’s shoulder. An arm snakes around his waist and he’s suddenly filled with memories of Hongjoong’s hands. His hands gripping his arm, running through his hair, his thumb making paths under his cheek. He can feel heat crawling up towards his face as he remembers Hongjoong laying down next to him so that their faces were leveled. He could feel the man’s breath on his face, their fingers tangling together, the slight buzz from the wine.

What is happening to him?

“I hate to do this to you,” Hongjoong says and his stomach drops, “but my stylist will maul me if I leave now, so I can’t drive you back to your hotel.” Seonghwa lifts his head, trying to get rid of the pout his mouth has formed into but it’s no use. “My manager will take you, is that okay?”

He has no choice but to nod, happy that at least Hongjoong hasn’t shown any regret of letting him stay the night. They both stand up slowly, and the hand on his waist leads him to a door across the hallway. “You can use the bathroom if you need to. I’ll wait for you by the door.”

Seonghwa smiles stiffly and slips into the room, locking the door behind him. He braces his hands on the counter and stares at his pink-faced reflection with frustration. He can’t even be too mad that he’s fallen for Hongjoong’s charms. Every second, the man seems to get even more irresistible, no longer just the magnetic DJ onstage.

Never in his life had he felt this way for someone, so incredibly fast. But the way his heart jumps at just the thought of the man, Seonghwa is smart enough to understand that he’s doomed. He turns on the faucet and splashes water on his face, flushing out his nose as much as possible. His face feels heavy with his makeup from the night before and he’s filled with relief thinking about getting to hop in the shower and wash off all the grime once he’s back at his hotel.

Finally, he wills himself to exit the bathroom, making his way down the hallway to where Hongjoong and his manager wait for him by the door. Hongjoong reaches for his hand as soon as he takes his place next to him, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Will I get to see you today?” Seonghwa decides to ask, hoping not to be disappointed by the answer. 

Thankfully, Hongjoong nods, looking just as elated about the question. “As soon as I can, I’ll come find you. Just text me and I’ll be there.” He turns to his manager and says, “Take care of him for me please?”

The man, who looks kind enough, nods and opens the door for Seonghwa to step through. Hongjoong squeezes his hand before he lets him go, and his heart does a little tumble when he sees the pout on Hongjoong’s face. He continues to stand in the doorway, watching as the car pulls out of the driveway.

The drive isn’t too long, which Seonghwa makes sure to take note of. Hongjoong’s manager is a man of few words, only making sure that Seonghwa is alright and occasionally asking for directions. Once they arrive at the hotel, he asks for Seonghwa’s number, saying that it’s “just in case he needs to get in touch about Hongjoong,” and he is suddenly stricken with the possibility that he might need to sign an NDA.

Not that anything had happened between them. Not yet.

At that, he gets into the elevator, itching to make it to his room. He’s grateful he still has his room card in his pocket, taking it out and pushing the heavy door open with fatigue once the lock beeps. He bolts to his suitcase, laying out his clothes on the bathroom counter before quickly hopping in the shower.

It feels nice, the water running down his body, and with it all the dirt swirling down the drain. He steps out with his hair feeling a lot lighter and comfortably refreshed. After last night, he starts to dread the idea of wearing makeup, so once he gets dressed in his intricate outfit, he decides to go light with it.

Parachute pants sit low on his hips, and paired with a grey crop top his midriff is entirely exposed. He thinks warmly of his stylists, because he looks good. He’s grateful for the sheer scarf with a snake skin pattern that they packed for him as well, which will protect him a little bit from the dust. As he stares at his reflection he finds his mind drifting to what Hongjoong’s reaction would be, seeing him dressed up. 

Before he can think too far ahead, he hears the door to their room slam. But instead of Wooyoung, Yeosang sits perched on one of the beds, waving when Seonghwa steps out. His hair is fluffy, still a little mussed from sleep.

“What are you doing here?” Seonghwa asks, bending down to tuck his toiletries back in his suitcase.

“I got picked last for hair and makeup, and Wooyoung was all sulky last night because you weren’t here, so I decided to sleep over,” he explains, watching Seonghwa intently as he tidies up. “Did you have fun?”

He hums in response, tugging his zippers closed and searching for the cloth bag he needs. “Did you…” Yeosang trails off but Seonghwa gets the gist of what he means.

When he locates it he straightens up and raises an eyebrow at his friend. “We didn’t have sex, Sangie.” The blonde flushes red at that and nods. It’s painfully endearing, and Seonghwa reaches over to ruffle his hair. “We didn’t even kiss. We just talked until we fell asleep. That’s why I didn’t come back last night.” 

“Mm, I should’ve known. You don’t have that glow.”

“Do I have a glow when I have sex?” Seonghwa questions as he tugs on the drawstring of the bag.

“You do, if it’s good,” Yeosang says matter-of-factly. “But you glow all the time, just in a different way.” It’s an attempt at teasing and Seonghwa smiles at him, laughing a little. He sits next to him on the bed and slides out the contents of the bag.

Two snakeskin boots get placed carefully on the floor, with sharp heels that could kill if used in the wrong way. He runs a finger over the scaly pattern before slipping his left foot into the shoe. He extends his leg, twisting it left and right to inspect the fit and feels satisfaction curl in his stomach. They’re gorgeous.

“Your feet are going to die, hyung.” Yeosang frowns as he stares at the other boot, sliding onto Seonghwa’s right foot.

“I’m aware, but I have to wear it. It’s a brand deal thing.” He shrugs and stands up, stomping a little bit on the carpet. “It’s alright, I’m used to my feet hurting for a while.” He walks over to the floor length mirror hanging on the closet doors to admire his outfit. There’s no doubt that he looks good in practically everything, and no one ever shies away from letting him know. But this outfit in particular makes him feel good inside and out, so perfectly him.

The door swings open and Wooyoung steps in. He looks Seonghwa up and down, particularly his shoes, with narrowed eyes and breathing in sharply. “Your feet are doomed,” he says simply, before slipping into the bathroom.

Seonghwa sighs, a tired look on his face, before turning to Yeosang who has a hand slapped over his mouth, very clearly trying to withhold a laugh.

Once Wooyoung is finished getting ready, they stealthily leave the hotel to avoid Yeosang being recognized, and make the drive to their friends’ accommodation. The living room is a flurry of lights, stylists, and many sleepy Ateez members. San dozes on the couch, patches stuck to his face and Mingi is practically snoring in his chair.

They all wake up steadily once they realize Seonghwa has arrived, and he greets them all with a hug and a kiss atop the head, much to their stylists’ dismay. Soon, their managers are leading five energetic puppies into a car. Seonghwa and Wooyoung take San, much to the pair's insistence. Seonghwa and San’s manager sigh and trade knowing looks in the front while the two of them cling to each other in the back.

He’s grateful that the gates open later in the day, because if it was any earlier they’d all be a lot more tired. Their first location is the Rose Garden, to take pictures of course. Decidedly, Yunho is the best at photography and phones get shoved in his hands, despite their managers being trained for photo taking. He accepts them easily, only laughing and pouting jokingly when they ask him to take more. 

The photos that he manages to get of Seonghwa in particular have Wooyoung clapping excitedly, already talking about how excited his followers will be. As he stands back, while it’s Jongho’s turn to get photographed, he finds himself pulling up Hongjoong’s contact.

He thinks about sending a few pictures to the man, but he pauses before he can press into his gallery. Wouldn’t that be too forward?  His finger hovers above the screen as he bites at his lip. However, on instinct, he hits the accept button when a call comes in and his eyes widen when he reads the contact name.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s voice on the other end says when Seonghwa finally raises the phone to his ear. He’d accepted the call as soon as it came through. Way too fast.

“Hey,” he replies shortly. “Are you here?” 

“Yes, I am.” He hears Hongjoong pull away from the phone briefly, talking to someone else. “I would love to see you,” he says when he returns.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Seonghwa asks, starting to rock back and forth on his feet, subconscious anticipation kicking in.

“I would love to see you,” Hongjoong repeats, “but I can’t.” His heart sinks before he can stop it. “I have to mingle for a bit with other artists and I’m not sure how long it will be before I can get free.”

He feels a little bit of relief, because of course Hongjoong has to network. He’s an artist, who also works with other artists, so it’s a necessity. Seonghwa has to do the same too, but his opportunities typically come in the form of wearing clothes given to him and going to auditions. “No rush, Hongjoong,” he says. “I’m here all day.”

“I feel bad, though.” And god, can he hear the pout in the man’s voice. “You’re waiting for me.”

Seonghwa scoffs and crosses his arms. “I never said I’d be waiting for you. I asked if you wanted me to,” he corrects, even though it’s completely untrue.

There’s silence on the other end until Hongjoong laughs. “Seonghwa,” he starts, “you will wait for me, though, right?” The words are laced with seriousness and Seonghwa swallows, nodding even though the other can’t see.

“Yes. I’ll let you know where we are so you can come find me.”

“Good,” Hongjoong says, sounding a lot brighter. “I’ll see you soon!”

His hand drops to his side and takes in deep breaths. He had tried his best to enact a little bit of resistance, just for the sake of his own pride and heart. Yet, Hongjoong had won again even without trying; without understanding this competition that Seonghwa was holding against his own willpower. 

His fingers slide to his gallery and he picks one photo, hitting send. It’s rather sultry, legs adorned in baggy pants spread wide and sunlight kissing his skin, particularly the expanse of his bare stomach, as he sits on the stone rim of the fountain. Of course, his feet had naturally found a position where he could show off his shoes to the camera, the innate action of using his body as a mannequin coming with the career. 

The texts arrive almost immediately.

No1likeme

fck

angel u look amazing 

Seonghwa

That’s my job

No1likeme

I need

can u step on me w those heels

Yunho looks over and raises an eyebrow when Seonghwa snorts. He bites his lip and shoves down the laughter pushing its way out.

Seonghwa

That would kill you Kim Hongjoong

No1likeme

no better way to go out

He doesn’t bother to respond, just slips his phone into one of his many pockets with a satisfied smile on his face. Yeosang eyes him skeptically, but they link arms as they make their way into the main grounds of the festival.

The boys get recognized very quickly, but fans maintain a respectful stance, taking photos from a feasible distance. Many waves are traded between them and Seonghwa even earns a few of his own. After they have lunch, drinks almost never leave their hands, save for himself, and San who would never be able to last the whole day if he drank anything.

It’s nice to just be able to enjoy the music, sometimes singing lyrics obnoxiously into each others’ faces, or bopping their heads to songs they’ve never heard before. He loves the entranced look that Mingi gets whenever he hears one he particularly likes, and how Yunho does his best to take candid pictures of everyone having fun. Though they can’t be too all over each other, San slings an arm over Wooyoung’s shoulder and sways them to the beat. Jongho makes sure to tug on everyone’s hands and lead them in a silly dance at least once.

Briefly, he wishes that they could stay there much longer than allowed.

Every hour and a half, he updates Hongjoong on their whereabouts, and it’s in the evening when he finally lets Seonghwa know that he can come find him at Sahara. 

He wished he could’ve heeded Yeosang’s warning when he said his feet were going to die, but he had no other choice. The first time he finally complained about the soreness, San frowned and told him he should’ve brought an extra pair. As he watches some female pop star dance across the stage he’s acutely aware of the pointy toe of the shoe squeezing at his joints, and it feels like the stilettos were actually piercing through the pads of his feet. 

He was banking on the golf cart system to assist them throughout the day, but the lines were often too long so they had ended up choosing to walk the majority of the time. And while Seonghwa was used to walking and standing around in heels, the rough and uneven grounds made it a little more difficult. Many times, his friends offered to accompany him so he could sit and rest, but he didn’t want to 

His eyes are squeezed closed as he scuffs his shoe against the dirt below him, as if he could kick the pain away, when he feels an arm wrap around his waist. He’s ready to elbow whoever it is, but he recognizes the familiar hands splayed on his stomach. 

“Hi gorgeous,” Kim Hongjoong whispers against the shell of his ear. That’s the second time he’s called him that today.

Seonghwa fully leans into him, selfishly putting his weight on the other. “You’re finally here,” he says, laughing when Hongjoong starts to nudge him left and right to the beat of the music.

“Hongjoong-ssi.” Yeosang suddenly appears next to them. He feels Hongjoong straighten up behind him. “Could you take Seonghwa somewhere to rest? He’s been in pain all day because of his shoes, but he’s too stubborn.”

A hand finds his, intertwining their fingers as Hongjoong steps forward quickly. “Yes of course.” He nods eagerly and warmth swirls in Seonghwa’s stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

Yeosang smiles appreciatively, and it grows softer when he sees their hands clasped together. He lets Hongjoong pull them out of their section and out into the open. It’s a lot cooler without the surrounding bodies to protect them and he savors the feeling of the cold air against his skin.

They make it to the base of The Bunker before Hongjoong finally lets go of him. Suddenly, he kneels down and gestures to his back. “Get on,” he says simply.

“Hongjoong I-” He looks around them, and a few people are looking over. Surely, someone has recognized them. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

But Hongjoong only waves his hands. “You shouldn’t walk any more on those shoes than necessary.”

Seonghwa feels the tip of his shoe squeezing his toes so he steps forward and braces himself against Hongjoong’s shoulders, leaning forward. “Are you sure Hongjoong- oh!” The man quickly hikes him up onto his back, hands gripping under his thighs. Hongjoong is surprisingly strong under him, muscles pressing against his chest and arms perfectly secure around him as they begin to move. Seonghwa wraps his arms around him. “Do you work out?” he says into his ear.

He feels the rumble of Hongjoong’s laughter when he says, “As much as I can, but I’m not a big fan.” 

Seonghwa isn’t quite sure where they’re going as Hongjoong brings them to the backstage area, but they soon find themselves in the artist compound. Hongjoong walks right up to a trailer, which Seonghwa guesses belongs to him, and he promptly hops off of the man’s back so he can open the door.

As soon as they’re inside, Hongjoong gently pushes him to sit on the small couch attached to the wall. Kneeling down, he carefully unzips Seonghwa’s shoes and sets them to the side. Seonghwa feels immediate relief when they slide off, and he reclines on the couch, letting his legs rest on the cushions. 

Hongjoong lifts them up for a second and places them on his lap once he sits down. He doesn’t stop there, though, as he takes one of Seonghwa’s feet and begins kneading into them. It feels nice though, and Seonghwa smiles lazily as he says, “Wow, Hongjoong. At least take me out on a date first,” sarcastically.

That earns a chuckle and Hongjoong shakes his head, moving on to the other foot. “I don’t do this for just anyone, you know. A little appreciation would be nice,” he teases.

“If you did this for anyone else I wouldn’t be here right now,” he scoffs. “But thank you,” he says softly, hoping Hongjoong knows he means it. 

A couple more rolls of his ankle and Hongjoong finishes up, thankfully, reaching for a bottle of hand sanitizer on the table next to them. Seonghwa’s legs are tingly from the man’s touch and the realization of just how much Hongjoong likes him. Enough to carry him and give his stinky feet a massage just because they hurt so bad.

Swiftly, he pushes himself up so he can straddle his lap. Hongjoong freezes under him, looking up with wide eyes when Seonghwa rests his arms on his shoulders. “I appreciate you, handsome,” he says lowly.

Hongjoong very visibly gulps as he tentatively places his hands on his tiny waist. “Is this really happening right now?” he whispers, dumbfounded. 

“It’s real. I’m very real.” Seonghwa smiles, hands sliding down to rest on his pecs and- holy shit, this man’s body is absurd. “You dream about this or something?” He raises a brow.

But Hongjoong is putty under him as he nods quickly. “Fuck- yes, of course.” He shifts, grip tightening around Seonghwa’s waist. “I don’t know if I can- Seonghwa I can’t-”

“I’m tired, Hongjoong.” He pouts, putting a little more pressure on his chest. “You can control yourself, can’t you?”

“Mhm,” Hongjoong agrees absently. “Just for you.” 

“Good,” he whispers as he leans in to capture Hongjoong’s lips. They’re soft and Hongjoong responds immediately. His hands slide down, cupping Seonghwa’s ass to pull him closer.

“The most beautiful,” Hongjoong manages to sneak in and Seonghwa tugs on his lip as if to say thank you. 

He kisses as if Seonghwa was all he ever wanted in life, tongue pushing into his mouth like it belongs there. His shirt twists in Seonghwa's grip when his hands squeeze, and he has to stop the sound that threatens to crawl up his throat. The heat makes him dizzy and he pulls back to take a breath.

Hongjoong leans forward, pressing a delicate kiss to his bare skin, just above his belly button, then buries his face in it fully, blowing raspberries as he tugs Seonghwa closer. Seonghwa lets out a loud laugh taking the man’s chin in his hand.

“When you sent me that picture a while ago…I wanted to be with you so badly- had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom.” Hongjoong’s cheeks are painted a beautiful red after he says that, and Seonghwa reels at how adorably shy he looks.

“‘M sorry, I wasn’t there to take care of you,” he frowns. Hongjoong shakes his head and smiles a charmingly crooked smile.

“It’s okay, I liked it.” He shrugs and leans against the backrest of the couch. The sleeves of his shirt- an atrocious highlighter green color that Seonghwa is sure he would’ve hated on anyone else- are scrunched up, and he suddenly gets reminded of an image from the day before. The tattoo on his bicep.

Excitedly, Seonghwa takes his arm and pushes the sleeve up as far as possible. Hongjoong stares at him curiously when the tattoo is revealed and Seonghwa just gives him a mischievous look. He presses a kiss gently to the inside of Hongjoong’s wrist, continuing to leave a trail as he moves towards the bold print. He leaves one last one atop of the little face in the “O” before sinking his teeth into the skin. Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath as Seonghwa’s mouth finds another place farther up, tongue impulsively swirling against the ink.

When he pulls away, red color blooms where he had bitten down and Hongjoong’s nose is scrunched up. “Did that hurt?”

“A little bit,” Hongjoong nods. “It’s okay, though. You’re cute,” he appeases.

Seonghwa smiles, moving back to his arm, biting down one more time before laying a kiss on it like a bandaid. He swipes his thumb over it, the skin a little wet from his spit and his face warms. He feels insane.

“I’m guessing you like my tattoo?” Hongjoong calls his attention, observing him with a soft look. Seonghwa nods, grabbing his face and letting his eyes trace over all of his features. 

Now that he’s close, he can see a constellation of faint brown spots dusting Hongjoong’s cheeks and he smiles. “I like your freckles too.” A grin forms on Hongjoong’s mouth and Seonghwa’s thumb presses against his bottom lip. “You have pretty teeth. They’re perfect.” The plush red plops as his thumb pulls away and he places a kiss on his lips for good measure.

He moves downwards, to Hongjoong’s chin, and to his neck, making sure he gets to the mole he’d been eyeing for a while. Hongjoong buries a hand in his hair, and the slight pressure as he tugs makes Seonghwa melt and press his face into his neck, beneath his jaw. Hongjoong’s other hand moves from where it still hadn’t left his bottom, and his fingers massage the blades of his shoulder purposefully.

“I think…” Seonghwa pauses, breathing in Hongjoong’s woodsy scent. “I think you should stay in my life for a while.” He tenses up slightly when he says it, because he knows what the words mean.

Hongjoong’s hand stalls and then he’s quickly wrapping his arms fully around Seonghwa’s torso, holding him impossibly closer. His breath is warm on his skin and Seonghwa acknowledges that he’s already far too well-acquainted with the hands on him. “I’m crazy about you, Park Seonghwa,” the man says sincerely and Seonghwa feels his heart splinter into a million pieces, an equally comforting and frightening feeling shooting throughout his body.

As if he can sense it, Hongjoong quietly says, “We’re good.” Another reassuring squeeze. “We can figure it out.”

♬⋆.˚

The weight of Hongjoong dozing off on his chest makes him smile as soon as he cracks his eyes open. His lips are pushed into a sleepy pout, cheek pressed against the satin of Seonghwa’s robe, and Seonghwa resists the urge to press a kiss against his mouth by opting to place one on top of the messy fluff of orange hair. 

He’s taller and broader than Hongjoong by all means, so the shirt he had given the man to sleep in swallows his form a bit. As carefully as possible, he slides out of bed, making sure to pull the blanket up around Hongjoong’s shoulders. He quietly digs through his suitcase for his clothes and his makeup and switches on the light for the bathroom. He sets an extra toothbrush beside the other sink, feeling proud that his preparedness could come in handy.

Hongjoong doesn’t rouse for a long time, but eventually, he appears in the doorway of the bathroom yawning. He’s slid on his pants from the night before, but he’s still in the shirt Seonghwa gave him. “Good morning,” Seonghwa greets him, waving at him through the reflection. He hums in acknowledgement, and a hand brushes against Seonghwa’s waist as Hongjoong slips past him to get to the other sink. He splashes water on his face and swirls some in his mouth, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Seonghwa laughs, sliding the tube of toothpaste to him. “Are you leaving tonight?” he asks before he can stop himself. He’s definitely not in the mood to talk about the impending choice they’ll have to make, but he’s still curious what Hongjoong has to say about it.

To his surprise, the other shakes his head, squeezing a glob onto his toothbrush. “I have a surprise set at the Do LaB, so I’m leaving tomorrow morning instead.” He turns to Seonghwa, as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “I actually had a talk with my manager- asked if we could get in contact with Ateez’s manager and plan a guest appearance.” A smile takes over Seonghwa’s face as he gasps excitedly. “I heard it went well so I think I can expect you guys to join me onstage!”

He bounces on his feet and Hongjoong laughs, almost choking on his toothpaste. Once he’s finished, he lingers awkwardly at the counter, just watching him start on his makeup. “I should go soon, should I wait for you to finish getting ready?” he finally asks.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Wooyoung is coming back soon and I don’t want you to be here for whatever questions he decides to ask.”

Hongjoong nods, shifting closer and resting his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You better be there for my set, onstage with your friends,” he pouts. “I hope you’re up for another rave.”

“After I met you at my first one, they’re not so bad anymore.” Seonghwa shrugs and Hongjoong grins, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Awesome,” he moves towards the door, “I’ll see you later, baby!”

The pet name makes his stomach tumble and he has to lean on the counter and bury his face in his hands. The door creaks open again and Seonghwa groans.

“I saw your boy in the hallway,” Wooyoung says excitedly. “He was wearing your stupid Marshall shirt. He waved at me.”

Seonghwa lifts his head and glares at Wooyoung, who laughs at his red cheeks. “He called me ‘baby.’”

That makes his friend laugh even harder. “Must’ve been good sex then!” He disappears further into the room.

Seonghwa peeks his head out from behind the doorframe. “We haven’t- ugh, Wooyoung!” he frowns. Wooyoung raises a curious brow.

“Then why do you look like you had sex?” And when Seonghwa makes a face asking him to elaborate, he continues, “You’re glowing. Post-sex glow. You can’t tell?”

“What is with you and Yeosang and- and me glowing?!” He throws up his hands in exasperation, moving towards the bed to flop onto it. 

Wooyoung comes over and peers over him, observing his face, turning it left to right as he cradles it in his palms. His eyes widen and he hops onto the bed next to Seonghwa, pulling him up by the shoulders. “You like Hongjoong.”

“Yes,” Seonghwa sighs, “I feel like that’s very obvious.”

“You’re in love with Kim Hongjoong,” Wooyoung says, dragging out every word. 

That makes Seonghwa’s eyes widen as well and he pushes lightly against Wooyoung’s chest. “It’s barely been three days,” he speaks quickly, all his words blurring together. “I don’t fall in love in just three days Wooyoung- what are you talking about-”

Wooyoung puts a finger to his lips. “You remember me and San?” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, as if he could forget. Those two met and in less than an hour they were all over each other. “Sometimes…it just happens.” He removes his finger and takes one of his hands instead. “Seonghwa hyung, it happens.” 

“No not-” Seonghwa breathes in and exhales heavily, “Wooyoung I need more time.” It feels stupid, to have his eyes get watery and his heart hammer in his chest. Hongjoong had just left, and still the feeling of his weight on him was already fading, their kisses from the previous night even more distant. They were both leaving tomorrow- Seonghwa had known this from the start. 

“You two can talk,” Wooyoung assures him, catching the tears before they can fall. Seonghwa’s heart warms with appreciation for his friend. “You guys are adults and Hongjoong seems like a really nice guy. I have no doubts that you’ll be able to figure it out.”

Seonghwa nods. “He is a really nice guy.” He stares at Wooyoung with a pout on his face until they both burst out in laughter. He feels much more relieved that he got to express his concerns to someone. 

“I never pegged him as the ‘gentleman’ type,” Wooyoung wonders out loud, getting up to move towards the closet. 

“I didn’t either, but that whole ‘intimidating wildcard’ persona is just for the stage,” Seonghwa replies, also leaving the comfort of the bed to return to the bathroom. “He’s San levels of gentleman.”

“Glad to know my boyfriend is the standard,” Wooyoung snickers, bumping Seonghwa’s hip as he passes by.

The rest of their morning continues on in mostly silence. Wooyoung, now knowing about his unease, lets up on the teasing. He recounts to Seonghwa how their night went after he had left. They ended up drinking once they safely returned to their air bnb, all of them getting wasted and resulting in Jongho giving Yeosang one incredibly awkward lap dance. He shares some unwanted details about his and San’s personal activities, and Seonghwa almost shoves his head in the toilet when he refuses to stop.

They don’t stop by to drive to the festival with the members this time, opting to just go straight there. It’s nice, just getting to hang out with Wooyoung and take some more pictures while they wait. He isn’t sure when Hongjoong’s set begins, but he assumes that he’ll be the surprise closer later on in the night.

He’s grateful that he’s equipped with much more comfortable shoes if he’s to be surviving till the very end of the festival. The past two days he had left early with Hongjoong, and never made it to the end of the night, which he didn’t mind too much. 

His outfit is the simplest out of all three, just a black tank top over black pants and a matching cowboy hat. Wooyoung lends him his sunglasses as a finishing touch for their pictures. 

It’s the hottest day of the weekend so they take refuge in Spectra, grateful for the blast of the air conditioner. They recognize a few familiar faces, other influencers and models that Seonghwa has met briefly before. They take that opportunity to film a few collab appearances and take more photos, as Seonghwa is sure his manager would’ve wanted. 

The members arrive much later in the afternoon, apparently too tired to go any earlier. Immediately, they ask Seonghwa to take them to see Hongjoong, wanting to properly talk to him after two days. They’re ecstatic about their surprise appearance later in the night, particularly Mingi, who is excited to see the DJ work up close.

After Seonghwa texts Hongjoong to ask where he is, they all find themselves in the artist compound once more. The boys are happy to hold a conversation with Hongjoong for longer than just a couple seconds, and they meld together seamlessly. Standing there, with Hongjoong’s arm secure around his waist, it all feels more real. When the DJ suggests they all sit down for dinner to continue their conversation, Seonghwa’s heart tugs with longing, especially when Jongho laughs loudly at a joke the man makes.

He tries to catch Wooyoung’s eyes from across the group, and his friend immediately recognizes the urgent look that probably paints his face. Slyly, he drags all the others into a conversation about who their favorite performers were. Seonghwa’s hand finds Hongjoong’s elbow, calling his attention. “Can we talk for a minute?” he whispers, and Hongjoong quickly agrees, taking Seonghwa’s hand and leading him over to his trailer.

Memories from the previous night flash through his mind when his eyes land on the couch. He clears his throat and takes a seat as Hongjoong leans against the table opposite of him. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asks softly, eyebrows furrowed.

Seonghwa sits up straight, hands curled into fists resting on his knees. “Last night…” he sighs, “You said ‘we can figure it out.’”

Hongjoong’s arms drop to his sides as he steps forward. “Right now? You want to do that right now?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day and,” he squeezes his fists even tighter, “Hongjoong I…want you.” He urges himself to relax a little, just so his voice isn’t so shaky. “It’s crazy but I want you and not knowing what happens after this makes me a bit anxious.”

In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong is dropping to his knees in front of him, taking his hands in his, smoothing out Seonghwa’s fingers that are stiff with worry. “I’ll do anything.” His eyes are set with sincerity, and it almost frightens Seonghwa. “I can move back home, Seonghwa. I’ll take what I have with me right now and board that plane with you tomorrow.”

“Hongjoong you can’t just-” Seonghwa shakes his head frantically. “You have to think about this, you can’t just do whatever you want!”

“But I will.”

“No- you won’t!”

“I can do it-”

“Stop!” Seonghwa leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Hongjoong’s lips. “Please shut up,” he whispers, resting his forehead against the other’s.

Hongjoong doesn’t resist, he looks straight into Seonghwa’s eyes and it’s an intimidating sight from up close. “Whatever you want me to do, I can do it. If you need me to stay here, I can stay. If you need me to be with you then of course I’ll be right by your side.”

“We just met, I hope you realize that.”

“I told you before,” Hongjoong lets go of his hands to place them gently on either side of his face, “I’m crazy about you.”

With a heavy exhale Seonghwa leans back and Hongjoong gets up from the floor to sit next to him. A million thoughts and ideas race through his brain but only one seems the most sensible.

“I’ll cancel my flight,” he decides quietly. “A week- I’ll extend my stay for a week.” Blindly, he reaches for Hongjoong’s hand and their fingers tangle together immediately. “I just want more time.” He shifts to glare at the other man, pouting dramatically. “And you can have time to think about what you actually want to do- I’m not going to tell you what you should decide on, I want you to make that choice.” The smile on the man’s face is infectious and Seonghwa has to fight not to replicate it. “You can’t just make impulsive decisions and try to stupidly uproot your life like that.”

“It’s not stupid though,” Hongjoong leans forward, “it’s…” he seems to falter, expression softening.

“Hm?” Seonghwa raises an eyebrow.

“I shouldn’t finish that sentence-” he clears his throat. “Not yet.”

Seonghwa opens his arms, and immediately Hongjoong falls into them, nuzzling into his neck. All of their conversations have been nothing but intense and passionate, yet the aftermath is always soft with a kind of peace Seonghwa never thought he could achieve. 

“Did you realize we’re matching?” Hongjoong murmurs. Seonghwa shakes his head and raises a curious brow as Hongjoong reaches for a cowboy hat he hadn’t noticed before. His own hat was left outside with his friends when they were eating dinner, and Hongjoong places his brown one on top of his hair. He adjusts it, tongue sticking out in concentration and Seonghwa finds himself feeling incredibly endeared. “You’re so pretty,” Hongjoong says with stars in his eyes as he leans forward to press a kiss to Seonghwa’s lips.

The brim of the hat bumps against his forehead, making them both crumble into a fit of laughter. Seonghwa tips the hat backwards a bit so he can capture Hongjoong’s mouth once more, smiling into the kiss.

“You make me,” Hongjoong says between pecks, “so happy.” His lips curl downwards and Seonghwa coos at how adorable he is.

“Hey, no being pouty and sentimental.” He pinches his cheeks, making the man squirm. “Your set is in half an hour, you gotta get into your ‘cool guy’ persona.”

Hongjoong scoffs, teasingly tilting the brim forward so it blocks Seonghwa’s eyesight. “So you’re saying I’m not cool offstage?” He places a hand over his heart dramatically. “You wound me!”

Seonghwa leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, you are cool,” he appeases. “But the fact that you’re a loser too outweighs that far more.”

Playfully, Hongjoong smacks his knee. “What could possibly make me a loser, huh?” he challenges.

Stretching an arm out, he reaches for Hongjoong’s chin, taking it in his hand. “That you are incredibly, inexplicably,” Hongjoong moves forward subconsciously, “pain-stakingly desperate for me.” The man’s eyes flick down to his mouth, making him smile. “You can’t even deny it ‘Mr. I’ll-board-that-plane-with-you-tomorrow,” he mocks.

Letting his chin go, Seonghwa stands up, adjusting the hat on his head before walking to the door. Hongjoong is still frozen in place and he almost chuckles. “Get ready for your set, baby. I’ll be with my friends.”

And before he can even feel an ounce of shame at his despicable attempt at flirting, he bolts out of the trailer and towards where the boys are still huddled together around the dinner table. 

Later into the night as they all pile onto the stage, forming a bubble around Hongjoong, bass booming in his head, he’s immediately reminded of how they first met- Seonghwa, just helplessly subjected to No1LikeMe’s stares in the audience.

Now, the DJ reaches out an arm towards him, his other one never leaving the turntable in front of him. Immediately, his friends are swarming around him and pushing him forward. He can feel the looks of the others onstage with them as he takes a step towards Hongjoong.

His Kim Hongjoong.

The arm wraps around his waist and for a split second, a kiss gets pressed to his skin just beneath his jaw. He can’t help the grin that takes over as he looks down at the audience, all jumping in sync like a giant wave. His nostrils are burning from the smell and his head is spinning, but when he glances back over his shoulder at his friends, he feels like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be at this moment.

♬⋆.˚

Seonghwa’s hand grips the steering wheel, the pads of his fingers turning white, as he tries to focus on the music streaming from the speakers and not the swirling feeling in his stomach. He probably shouldn’t be driving, considering how anxious he is, but Wooyoung will be boarding a plane soon and his manager isn’t here to save him.

After he fully committed to extending his stay in California, he agreed to take the rental car with him, while Wooyoung would accompany the boys to the airport. Wooyoung had offered to stay as well- to find a hotel nearby Hongjoong’s house for moral support, but Seonghwa stood his ground and said no. He had to handle this by himself.

Hongjoong’s house.

Apparently, a sprawling mansion in the Hollywood Hills. Whilst he was driving past the fields littered with wind turbines, exiting Indio, the text with his address came in. Stuck in the traffic of all the rest of the festival-goers, Seonghwa curiously looked up the address, just to come face-to-face with a picture of a slightly secluded, expensive looking house. He knew Hongjoong had money from his music career, but not that much money.

He’s grateful for the two hour drive, allowing him time with his thoughts. But that’s just the problem- he can only think of all the things that could happen once he’s in Hongjoong’s home. Alone. With Hongjoong.

Like it’s taunting Seonghwa, one of the man’s songs comes up on the playlist that he had curated for his lengthy drive and he groans, but still turns the knob to blast the music higher. By the time he’s nearing Los Angeles, the playlist isn’t even halfway finished.

Hongjoong had left a whole two hours before Seonghwa, who still had to say goodbye to all his friends and promise Wooyoung that he’d book the next flight home if anything went wrong. As he exits a dead spot, texts come in. A few arrive from his friends, telling him they would be boarding soon, then some from Hongjoong as well.

Hongjoong <3

im home

waiting for u

i have food ready

i bought it i mean

im excited

can u tell?

drive safe <3

Seonghwa smiles as he reads them at a stoplight, resisting the urge to text back and potentially get in trouble. He has to focus as he drives uphill towards Hongjoong’s house, heart beating rapidly with excitement. A long driveway comes into sight that he pulls into quickly.

To his surprise Hongjoong is waiting for him, right there on the front steps, and he springs upwards as soon as he sees the car drive onto the street. He’s at the driver’s side in an instant, and Seonghwa falls into his arms as he gets out. The weather is a bit more windy in comparison to the desert in Indio, and Seonghwa basks in the warmth of Hongjoong’s arms.

“You’re here,” Hongjoong breathes out, almost as if it’s hard to believe that Seonghwa is actually in front of him.

“I am,” Seonghwa replies, smiling to himself. “Help me with my bags?” Hongjoong immediately launches into action, popping open the trunk and grabbing all of Seonghwa’s stuff.

“Do you have enough stuff? If not, I can take you shopping,” Hongjoong asks, leading him into the house. Immediately, Seonghwa is struck with just how big it is. The living room is an open area, and he can catch a glimpse of a large pool outside. The windows are floor to ceiling, letting all the natural light stream in, making the home appear even larger.

“I think I need a few more clothes to wear,” Seonghwa agrees, taking a seat on the edge of the comfortable couch. “We could go tomorrow?”

At that, Hongjoong inhales sharply. “Actually…I can’t tomorrow. I’m not going to be here all day because I have some work things to take care of. I’ll be home later in the night.” Seonghwa’s heart sinks a bit at his apologetic look. He was hoping he’d get to spend all his time together with Hongjoong, but of course the man has stuff to do. This is something he’d have to get used to. “We can go on Wednesday though!” Hongjoong amends. “I’ll be home all day, so we can go together. I’ll take you somewhere nice, let’s make a date out of it.”

A date.

Easily, Seonghwa feels light again and he perks up, nodding. Their first official date. “Yes, we can do that,” he agrees, standing up to press a kiss to Hongjoong’s cheek. The man blushes, but tucks a hair behind Seonghwa’s ear.

“Awesome,” he whispers. Glancing up the stairs, he nods. “How about a tour?” He begins to carry Seonghwa’s bags up the stairs for him, much to his protest. “I have a few rooms, but since I live alone and never have people over, I’ve converted a few of them for work purposes,” he explains.

“You never have people over?” Seonghwa asks. “Not even when…”

Hongjoong pauses on the step above him and gives him an awkward look, the tips of his ears red. “No I- I do that stuff elsewhere,” he says quietly, bashfully. “You’re the first.”

Seonghwa grins, stepping up to loop his arm through Hongjoong’s. “Well, I’m honored,” he teases, and the other scoffs but continues walking.

“The guest room is yours if you want it but,” he raises an eyebrow, “you can stay with me too.”

“Your room, of course,” Seonghwa says eagerly. Hongjoong smiles and leads them further down the hallway. His bedroom is at the end of the hall and Seonghwa hears him take a deep breath before pushing the door open.

It’s big, and the wheels of Seonghwa’s suitcase squeak against the wood floors as they enter and Hongjoong positions them next to the TV stand. Seonghwa takes a good look around the room, noticing the pile of clothes on the bed and a mess of chords on top of the nightstands, much like his accommodation for Coachella. His bed is unmade, which is surprising considering he just got back, meaning it was never made in the first place. His own luggage sits at the foot of the bed, open but not unpacked.

“Oh, Kim Hongjoong, you’re a mess,” Seonghwa sighs. Hongjoong looks over from where he’s dumping the clothes on his bed into the open suitcase.

“Is that a dealbreaker?” He pauses and Seonghwa chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not when I actually like to clean things,” he sighs. “I’ll be fine, but if your room suddenly appears spotless, that’s because of me.”

He turns to look at the things perched on top of the TV stand. A few picture frames of what he assumes are Hongjoong's family and friends. There are a few of him in the studio and standing with artists Seonghwa has definitely seen before. Next to them is a stack of albums, all signed, mostly from Kpop groups but a few from western artists too.

“I have a bunch more in my studio,” Hongjoong says, appearing behind Seonghwa as his eyes trace over titles. “Do you want to see?” He holds out his hand, which Seonghwa takes, following him out of the room and into another.

It looks very professional, with padded walls and an elaborate desk setup that Seonghwa still can’t understand despite seeing it once before. Hongjoong takes a seat in his chair and points towards the wall. Sure enough, there’s a huge collection of albums lined up on two hanging shelves that Seonghwa makes his way to.

He recognizes so many titles that he turns to Hongjoong in shock. “I didn’t even know half of these were yours!” he gushes, hand coming up to brush over the CD cases and spines of a few Kpop albums. “I know so many of these.”

Hongjoong chuckles and shrugs. “I like the behind the scenes aspect of it all,” he says. “Of course I make my own stuff too, but it’s easier to be known through the stuff you make rather than who you are as a person.”

“Mm I get that,” Seonghwa hums, making his way over and leaning against the table, careful not to touch any of the equipment. “I think we all dream of being idols at some point. I almost became a trainee but fashion has always been my true direction. The me that’s on the runway isn’t who I actually am and it’s a lot easier to deal with.”

Hongjoong nods and carefully takes one of the hands supporting his weight. “What else are you interested in besides your career?’ he asks, thumb running over his knuckles.

Seonghwa grins, happy to engage in conversation about their hobbies. It’s what he came here for, to get to know the man in front of him. “Well, if you’ve seen my content, you’ll know I’m a bit of a nerd. I like Legos, they help me relax in my free time,” he says quietly.

“They’re a lot cheaper here than they are back home,” Hongjoong nods. “When we go out on Wednesday I’ll take you to a store.” His tone suggests that there’s no room for Seonghwa to protest, so he just does a little excited wiggle that makes Hongjoong chuckle.

“I like when I get to come here to L.A. because I’m a huge Star Wars fan,” he continues. “So just the idea of being near Hollywood kind of freaks me out- like this is where all the magic happens.”

Hongjoong purses his lips, thoughtfully looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not too educated on the movies. I never watched them when I was growing up.”

That elicits a gasp from Seonghwa, fingers tightening around the ones in his grasp. “You have to see them! At least one of them, the third is my favorite,” he pouts and Hongjoong wheels himself closer.

“I have a few streaming platforms, I’m sure we can have a marathon! You can explain everything to me so I can get the full experience,” Hongjoong appeases. “Is there anything else?’

“Hmm…not much! The rest of my time is spent with friends and family,” Seonghwa says. “How about you? What does Kim Hongjoong do off-duty?”

“Uh, well,” Hongjoong leans back in his chair, scratching at his head, “nothing really.”

“You actually live and breathe music?” he asks, frowning.

Hongjoong looks a bit shy as he nods. “I mean, if I really need to get out I play some tennis with friends. But my friends all work in the industry with me so scheduling can be rough. And since I have so much free time…what better way to spend it than making music?” He shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “You probably expected something way more interesting, but I don’t have that much else going on for me.’

“Well,” Seonghwa smooths down a few strands that got ruffled by Hongjoong’s hand, “maybe that’ll change from now on.” Surely distance would be fairly preoccupying, he thinks to himself.

“I think so too,” Hongjoong replies, smiling up at him contentedly. 

Eventually, they leave the studio and continue the conversation over dinner. Seonghwa gives him some introductory information on the Star Wars franchise and Hongjoong indulges him in a few silly music industry secrets. One thing that Seonghwa learns, and appreciates a lot, is that Hongjoong is an incredible listener. He asks engaging follow-up questions and hangs onto every word that comes out of Seonghwa’s mouth- he almost thinks that if he asked the man to recite back to him what he said, word for word, he could do it.

He seems perfect in almost every way, as the evening drags on. It’s been proven that the two of them communicate well enough, and that Hongjoong would be more than willing to make time for him. Suddenly, simple phone calls across continents doesn’t seem so harrowing.

But when he’s being pressed into Hongjoong’s mattress later in the night, plush lips attached to the sensitive skin beneath his jaw, Seonghwa thinks in the back of his mind about whether or not he’d be able to live without missing the man’s gentle touch.

♬⋆.˚

He’s woken up by a hand on his waist, shaking him gently. When he cracks his eyes open he sees Hongjoong sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at him softly. Seonghwa grumbles, wanting to shut his eyes and drift off.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying bye,” he says quietly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. When Seonghwa shivers from the slight chill of the room, Hongjoong pulls the blanket up higher over his shoulders. “I won’t be back till later at night, but I ordered lunch for you. You should sleep in and just relax today.”

“You didn’t have to,” Seonghwa mutters. “I could’ve cooked for myself.”

“I’d love to see you try to cook with just noodles and a jar of ranch,” Hongjoong snorts, but then his expression changes. “And I want to order you food. Even if we’re thousands of miles apart, that’s something I can do for you.”

That’s the first mention of their impending distance from Hongjoong since Seonghwa’s arrival, and he lifts his arms lazily to gesture Hongjoong into a hug. “Have a good day. Don’t be mad if I text you ‘cause I got bored,” he says, voice muffled by the other’s shirt.

By the time Hongjoong leaves the room, his eyes are already fluttering closed, weighed down by sleep. He wakes up once more fairly late into the afternoon, just in time for the doorbell to ring, a woman with a kind looking smile holding his food. He makes sure to tip her generously and takes the surprisingly heavy paper bag to the kitchen island.

He understands the reason why when he unpacks about five different dishes and a tray with an assortment of cakes. He snaps a quick selfie with all the food and opens Hongjoong’s contact.

Seonghwa

Image attachment

You ordered so much food

I’ve never had so much cake in my life

Hongjoong <3

ur so cute angel

i wasnt sure what youd feel like eating

or what ur favorite flavor of cake was

so i just got all of them

u can save the rest for our marathon

Seonghwa

Strawberry

Always strawberry

Hongjoong <3

noted <3

Seonghwa smiles and digs in, making sure to take at least one bite of every dish. Everything is delicious and his heart flutters at the thought of Hongjoong waking up in bed beside him and immediately thinking about what Seonghwa would want to eat.

After he devours one of the cake slices, he moves to the couch to call Wooyoung. It’s still early morning in South Korea, but his friend answers anyway, though still tucked into bed. Behind him, Seonghwa can see the curve of San’s broad shoulders, still snoring away peacefully.

“Hyung!” Wooyoung says excitedly as soon as he answers. His voice is still scratchy and deep, but cheerful nonetheless. 

“Hi Wooyoung,” Seonghwa says softly, already incredibly happy just seeing his friend’s face. “It’s good that you guys were able to sleep after your flight.”

“Yeah, but never for too long,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. “This guy is lucky though.” He shifts the camera so that Seonghwa can see San’s adorable face, open-mouthed and definitely not waking up any time soon. “Anyways, how is it over there? Can I say hi to Hongjoong?” He turns the camera back to him, wide-eyed and expectant.

“Everything is good here, but uh- Hongjoong isn’t here right now,” Seonghwa says reluctantly, already bracing himself for Wooyoung’s response.

“He left you all by yourself?!” Wooyoung shrieks and Seonghwa thinks he hears San’s grumble sleepily in the background. “How dare he!”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa hisses, and immediately the man stuffs his face into his pillow like a child. “Even if I’m here or in a whole other continent, Hongjoong has to work. It may be my vacation, but it’s not his. Plus, he was nice enough to get me an amazing lunch.”

“Okay, you’re right,” he grumbles. “But you are going to spend some time together? He’s not just going to leave you all alone in his gigantic mansion?”

“Yes, we’re going on a date tomorrow,” he says shyly, blushing just thinking about getting to spend time with the man. “And he promised me a Star Wars marathon.”

“Oh wow, he’s perfect for you,” Wooyoung gasps and Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He continues to recount to his friend about the house tour he was given the day before, and some details from their conversation. He tells him about his plans to just relax for the rest of the day, maybe hop in the pool for a night swim until Hongjoong comes back home. He’s not exactly sure when he’d be coming home, but he assumes it’d be late.

The leftover exhaustion from their weekend must’ve still lingered, because after he ends the call with a sleepy goodbye from San, who’d woken up after Wooyoung refused to lower his volume, he immediately feels like curling up on the couch that’s bathed in Hongjoong’s woodsy scent. He dips in and out of sleep, occasionally waking up and snapping silly selfies to send to the man.

It seems that Hongjoong appears, even in his dreams, because he dreamt of them driving down a long stretch of road, wind blowing through his orange hair and his pearly teeth appearing behind his perfect smile. After that, Seonghwa promptly decides that he won’t be going back to sleep until Hongjoong is in his arms again.

He changes into some shorts that he doesn’t mind getting wet and heads outside into the pool. He figures Hongjoong wouldn’t mind if he used it without asking so he hops in. The water feels nice, warm enough to pair with the slight wind. The view is absurd, overlooking the city, lights shining through the glass barrier. He basks in the peacefulness, watching the sun disappear below the horizon until the backyard is bathed in darkness.

Time passes, and he doesn’t get out of the water even though he’s sure his skin has started to prune. It feels too nice, and he clambers onto a stray pool floatie so he can scroll through some of the pictures he’d taken and select a few to post. He hadn’t updated his social media for a while, except for a few reposts he’d been tagged in from Coachella.

He’s preoccupied by selecting the perfect song portion that he doesn’t notice when Hongjoong has appeared behind him, until his inner tube is spinning around by force. There he is, kneeling down beside the pool and reaching over the water to get Seonghwa’s attention. He’s able to get close enough to the man to take his hand.

“Hi, I didn’t notice you came back!” he says with a big smile, unable to hide how much he ended up missing Hongjoong.

“Hi baby, going for a night swim?” he asks. Seonghwa doesn’t miss how he inhales deeply as his eyes roam his bare torso. He suddenly feels extreme pride for his broad shoulders and the abs he’d so diligently sculpted for his last modeling campaign.

“Mhm it’s really nice out here.” He nods his head in the direction of the view he’d spent so long staring at. “I called Woo and then slept all day long, so I wanted to do something else.”

Hongjoong pouts, readjusting himself so he can sit comfortably. “I’m sorry, you must’ve been bored today. I wish I could’ve been here.” 

Seonghwa frowns, lifting Hongjoong’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “It’s okay, work is work.” Briefly, he smells a hint of alcohol on the other’s skin. “Did you drink tonight?” He places his phone on the concrete, safely next to Hongjoong, before not-so-gracefully sliding off of the floatie. The water splashes slightly, droplets landing on Hongjoong’s clothes and faces and he laughs quietly. Seonghwa pushes the inflatable away so he can approach the edge of the pool.

“Yes, just a little, like two glasses. It’s usually a must at work gatherings if you want to seem approachable,” Hongjoong replies after wiping water off his face. 

“Who were you with?” Seonghwa asks, resting his chin on his arms where they’re placed on the rough floor, cheeks slightly puffed out. “No one I should be worried about, right?”

“You should never be worried about anyone,” Hongjoong says defiantly, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips, “I only have eyes for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Seonghwa grins up at him. “That’s good ‘cause I missed you so much.” Suddenly, he begins to lift himself out of the pool, taking loads of water with him, but Hongjoong doesn’t seem to care as his eyes follow the movement- the way Seonghwa’s muscles strain as he carries his body. 

Hongjoong reaches backwards to grab the towel Seonghwa had left on the chair, but before he can lean too far back, Seonghwa takes his chin between his fingers to pull him back. Their lips find each other immediately, Hongjoong’s hands sliding against his wet skin where he manages to grip his waist.

Gosh he’s missed him.

“I couldn’t- mm, I dreamt about you,” Seonghwa breathes out as Hongjoong trails down. “That’s how much I missed you.” 

“What were they about?” Hongjoong whispers against his neck. 

“Just us together. I wanted to be with you.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, tipping his head back as Hongjoong places a kiss dangerously close to his chest. “So many dreams- some less PG-13 than others so I had to- I had to distract myself.”

“So you decided to get in the pool,” Hongjoong says for him, thumb pulling at the waistband of his shorts slightly. It makes Seonghwa’s brain short circuit for a second. “I came back early just for you, I missed you too.”

Seonghwa leans back on his hands- jagged floor digging into his palms but he could care less- unable to sit straight any longer. “How drunk are you, Hongjoong?”

“‘M sober now. Two glasses, remember?” He grins mischievously. “I could have you here, right now.” Though his smile is teasing, the look in his eyes is hungry. 

That makes Seonghwa crack, the tips of his ears turning red as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. “Uhm- I- we could shower. Do stuff,” he says shyly as if they hadn’t done worse already.

Which he’d denied vehemently in front of his friends.

“Mhm, we could,” Hongjoong says slowly. “And then?”

“And then we could cuddle and talk and- if you want-”

“I want to.”

“We can do more,” Seonghwa finishes. The way Hongjoong’s thumb moves against his skin, tickling him a little, makes him want to squirm. “I slept all day anyway,” he mumbles.

“That’s a good plan, baby.” Hongjoong groans as he gets up, and immediately a cold breeze hits his bare torso. Gently, Hongjoong lifts him up and towels him off. “You’re okay with this, right?” he asks quietly, suddenly stalling where he’s wiping down Seonghwa’s stomach.

Seonghwa smiles softly and lays a hand over Hongjoong’s. “I told you I wanted to be with you,” he reassures, earning a glance from glistening eyes. “You’re sweet, thank you Joongie.”

That makes the other man beam and he pouts lips till Seonghwa leans in and gives him a peck.

♬⋆.˚

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m entirely serious. You should trust me, I’m a model.”

“What does being a model have to do with matching pajama sets?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and pouts, holding them up next to his face. “It’s for our movie night tomorrow.”

Then, Hongjoong easily holds the basket out and allows Seonghwa to dump the clothes inside. It had been the same pattern all day since they started shopping. Hongjoong had barely complained, even when Seonghwa had dumped half the Lego store’s contents on the counter for the poor cashier to scan. Weakly, he’d tried to pay for the majority of them before Hongjoong had intercepted with his own card. 

Another thing that kept happening was occasionally, they’d split up in a store, and eventually Hongjoong would return with a bag full of things he’d already purchased that he thought Seonghwa and his friends would like. It was awfully similar to a puppy bringing back a stick and Seonghwa had to resist the urge to drag him out of the store and kiss him silly. The group chat was very overjoyed when he texted them and said he’d be bringing back gifts courtesy of Hongjoong.

There was barely a moment when their fingers weren’t intertwined. It was nice, not having to worry about who would see them. Apparently, Hongjoong had grown not to care about who he was seen with- romantically -once he got to America. And many people were aware of Seonghwa’s queer presence in the fashion industry. While it was difficult for him to be open with past relationships in South Korea, out of consideration for the other party, it was incredibly easy now to be with Hongjoong. So much so that it surprised him when Hongjoong had first held his hand across their lunch table without batting an eye. 

They had woken up fairly late into the day, tired and blissed out from their night together. Seonghwa had woken up, pressed up against Hongjoong’s back and it was the best he’d felt in a while. The other woke up shortly after, shocked at how well he’d slept and Seonghwa laughed. Hongjoong had mentioned before that he often never got many hours of sleep and Seonghwa beamed with pride that he’d managed to assist with that.

It was just like the dreams he’d had the day before, spending time with Hongjoong- the image he had of him driving down a long highway with a perfect smile once they’d left the house coming to fruition exactly as he’d seen it. It filled Seonghwa with joy once he realized, and he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek once they reached a stoplight.

Now, they’re in their fifth store of the day, shopping for Seonghwa’s clothes. He’d definitely gotten more than he needed, given that he only had five days left in America, and the thought makes his stomach curl as he peers into the mesh shopping bag.

“Maybe I don’t actually need this,” he says slowly, reaching inside to pull an article of clothing out. Not the pajamas. They do need that.

Hongjoong whips the bag around behind his back protectively and frowns. “Why not?”

“I changed my mind,” Seonghwa says, trying to reach around him. “Give it.”

“No, you should get it,” Hongjoong twists out of his way, “I like that shirt.” He continues to back away until Seonghwa crosses his arms and sighs. “I like everything you picked out and I know you do too so we’re getting all of it.”

Seonghwa turns around and sifts absentmindedly through a rack behind him. “There’s too much stuff…” he mumbles. “I have less than a week here.” All the fabric that his fingers touch feel high-quality. Hongjoong had insisted they go all out at a higher-end mall after all.

Suddenly, the bag is deposited at their feet and arms are wrapping around his waist. “You know that doesn’t matter to me,” Hongjoong says quietly.

Seonghwa doesn’t reply, he just continues to look through the rack until his eyes land on a particular piece of clothing. What catches attention the most is the keyhole back, slightly covered by the ribbon that runs down from the high-neck halter. The cutout is deep, running all the way to the front until it’s connected by three circular pieces of metal, engraved with an intricate pattern. The sleeves are long and bell out, but the dress itself is on the shorter side, falling just mid-thigh. He likes the simplicity, the flexibility it has to be styled. He takes the ends of the ribbon between his fingers, fabric smooth.

“Oh, you need to get that,” Hongjoong whispers, and he sounds just as in awe as Seonghwa feels. 

“I-” want to, his brain urges him to say, “-shouldn’t. I can’t wear it to events because it’s not branded, and anywhere else it’d be too formal.” He sighs, moving to pull away, but it’s like his hands are glued to the dress.

“But you know what it’s perfect for?” Hongjoong asks, leaning to the side so he can peer at Seonghwa’s face. “A dinner date.”

“I won’t be going on ‘dinner dates’ back home and you know that,” Seonghwa scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Who says it has to be back home?” Hongjoong frowns, fully letting go of Seonghwa to grasp onto the hanger. “You think I’m going to let you go without a dinner date?”

“When?” Seonghwa asks, open-mouthed and eyes wide.

“Tonight,” he says. “I was supposed to tell you later, but I guess you can know now if it’ll convince you to get this.” He takes it off the rack, holding it up against Seonghwa’s body. He shakes his head as if in disbelief, and quickly lays it over his arm.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa smacks his arm lightly. The man just chuckles, taking the bag in one hand and Seonghwa’s in the other.

“Come on! Let’s get out of here and get back home so we can get ready.” He tugs them in the direction of the register before Seonghwa can protest. He pays quickly and soon they’re exiting through the automatic doors of the mall. The drive is quiet but he can feel Hongjoong vibrating with excitement next to him. He thinks if he asks the man any questions about it, he’d ruin the surprise even further.

It’s cute how excited he is, and Seonghwa takes his hand over the center console as they drive home. He can’t help but feel excited too.

Once they arrive, Hongjoong quickly puts the dress in his arms and points him towards the stairs. “Go get ready- do whatever you need to do, but don’t come downstairs until I text you.” And then he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

Seonghwa laughs and trudges up the steps to Hongjoong’s bedroom. He figures he could go all out- shower and do his hair and makeup all nice. After all, it’d be rare after today that they’d be able to have dates like this.

So he does just that, soaks in the warm water and shaves for good measure. He wishes he could curl his hair a bit, but he doesn’t have a curling iron so he just pins it back with a few pretty clips. He works diligently on his makeup, making sure it’ll match the rest of his vibe. Lastly, he carefully picks out jewelry that’ll match with the dress. Because of the halter style of the dress, he decides not to wear a necklace and just picks out simple silver star earrings. They’re a bit heavy when they settle on his lobes but they’re beautiful.

Finally, he puts on the dress. It still smells like the store, since he couldn’t exactly throw it in the washer and dryer fast enough for it to be ready. He’ll just spray on some perfume after. It sits nicely on his body once it’s all zipped up. The bottom half of the dress is low on his hips due to the cutout and he giggles at the thought of Hongjoong losing his mind once he sees it. The engraved metal matches nicely with his jewelry and he does an excited twirl in front of the mirror when he realizes. He takes pride in how perfectly he’d managed to pin back his hair so that it gives it a cleaner look overall.

He perches on the edge of the bed, phone in hand as he waits for Hongjoong’s text. When it comes he springs up and rushes towards the door. But before he exits, he doubles back and zones in on his suitcase. Quickly, he repositions it on the floor so he can unzip it open and find what he’s looking for.

The snakeskin boots that almost killed his feet on Saturday. The snakeskin boots that also made Hongjoong go crazy. He tugs them on and steadily lifts himself off the floor, feeling the distinct change in height.

They’re loud against the floor as he walks down the hallway and the stairs, each step like the heel is stabbing into the wood itself. He hopes Hongjoong wouldn’t mind that he’s wearing shoes in the house- he’d mop up the floor if he did -but he’s confident the man wouldn’t.

Immediately once he arrives on the first floor, there’s a table with two chairs on opposite sides, a white tablecloth laid over it with rose petals scattered all over the surface. There’s an array of food already prepared and his heart warms when he sees the mini cake topped with strawberries. The room itself is warmly lit with candles and the sole living room lamp glowing. Partnered with the view of the setting sun from the floor to ceiling windows, it’s gorgeous.

“Hongjoong?” he calls out, looking around for the man, but he’s nowhere to be found. Seonghwa furrows his eyebrows, confused, until he hears a voice respond.

“I’m right here, Seonghwa.” Seonghwa looks at the table, only to notice a laptop he hadn’t processed when he first looked at the setting. He walks slowly over to the table and sees Hongjoong there on the screen. “Hi baby, you look beautiful,” he says, a grin splitting his face.

Seonghwa recognizes the room behind him- it’s his studio, just upstairs. “What’s going on, why aren’t you here?” He frowns, taking a seat across from the computer.

Hongjoong sighs, smile falling the tiniest bit. He shifts in his chair and says, “I know that…in our future, we might not be able to be with each other- go out everyday or even just hold each other. But I wanted to show you,” he leans forward, a determined look in his eyes, “I wanted to prove to you that I can still do things like this for you. I can still make you feel special from afar.”

“I- okay,” Seonghwa says as he lowers himself into the chair next to him. Because what else can he say? Hongjoong is right.

They’ll be separated by miles and hours. Hongjoong sitting in another room is tame compared to what they’ll have to deal with.

So he plasters a smile on his face, as genuine as he can make it appear and reaches for the dish that holds pasta. “Mmm, this looks great baby, where’d you get it from?” he asks, trying to pull away from what the other had said.

“You didn’t even consider the possibility that I might’ve cooked it?”

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“Okay I got it from Olive Garden,” Hongjoong groans out. The screen glitches a bit, so it’s momentarily frozen on his pouty face as he says, “But I selected it from their very large menu with lots of love and care.”

Seonghwa hums as he scoops some onto his plate, then moves onto another container holding what looks like chicken parmesan. It doesn’t seem like Hongjoong has any food with him, just a wine glass that he sips from periodically. He frowns and his heart aches at the thought of Hongjoong leaving all the food downstairs for him, or him being too in a hurry to get upstairs that he didn’t bother bringing some with him. 

In taking care of Seonghwa would he forget to take care of himself?

“Do you want me to bring something upstairs for you? I’ll just leave it outside your door if you really don’t want us to see each other,” he asks, praying that Hongjoong says yes; that he’ll let Seonghwa come upstairs and tug the door open and let him in.

“Ah, no it’s alright,” Hongjoong looks around him, eyes slightly widened, “I didn’t even realize I didn’t bring anything with me. Silly me,” he laughs. He seems relaxed, but to Seonghwa it’s not funny in the slightest.

Still, he nods stiffly and just shovels a forkful of fettucini into his mouth.

He can’t talk as much since he’s eating, so Hongjoong carries the conversation. He talks about his meeting yesterday and the song he’s working on. He talks so much that it surprises Seonghwa because he doesn’t think he’s heard Hongjoong spew so many words before, even after they’d conversed all night long. Seonghwa just listens intently, trying to smile at the right moments and look shy when the other comments on how cute he looks when he eats.

But it’s difficult. It’s difficult in a way that it’s never been since he’s had Hongjoong’s company. And every time he takes a gulp of wine he can’t help but look past the laptop and at the empty chair behind it. It’s like Seonghwa can feel his heart breaking in real time.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he puts the glass down and a tear lands on the back of his hand. He glances down at the singular droplet until there’s another one.

And another one. And then his chest is heaving as he’s fighting not to look back up at the screen. 

“Hwa?” he hears Hongjoong say, but it’s so faint- so far pushed into the background that he barely registers it. He lifts his other hand to cover his mouth when he lets out a tiny whimper, so embarrassing that it makes his stomach curl in shame. “Hwa talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I just-” he stutters, looking up at the screen just to see Hongjoong inclined towards the screen with a concerned face, and he’s right there.

But he’s so far.

It makes him sob more and he accidentally knocks his glass over. Thankfully it’s empty, only because he drank so much which surely served to worsen his emotional state. 

“Hongjoong-ah,” he gasps, through the tears. It sounds so rough and desperate that it makes his head spin.

“Seonghwa please tell me what you’re feeling right now I- I’m sorry.”

“I got all dressed up for you- you bought me this dress,” he stands up, and he’s aware that the camera cuts off his face and it makes him feel even worse. “I wore those stupid shoes that made my feet feel like they were going to fall off just ‘cause I knew they’d drive you crazy!”

“Seonghwa-”

“You got all this food and you’re not even eating any of it!” He drops back into the chair, elbows propped up on his knees and face buried in his hands. “I was so happy- I want to be happy, but I just can’t stop thinking…” he trails off quietly, eyes glazing over. “How can I do this?”

He doesn’t know when it happened, but Hongjoong is in front of him, fingers circling his wrist so he can pull Seonghwa’s hands away from his face. The call hasn’t ended, Hongjoong has left it running in a rush to get downstairs, the image of the studio taunting him and he even considers that he’s gone crazy. But the man’s touch is grounding as his thumbs wipe tears away and it’s the only way he knows it’s real.

“Joong,” he whispers, bottom lip trembling, “can we do this?”

Hongjoong looks wrecked as he stares back at Seonghwa. He gulps, eyebrows furrowed with determination. “Yes, Seonghwa. I believe we can.”

“Look at me,” Seonghwa breathes out shakily, “I’m a mess and you were just in the other room. What happens when…” He can’t finish it.

The man in front of him shifts so that he’s on his knees, cradling Seonghwa’s face gently. “I told you I want this to work, no matter what it takes. And I know we can do it. Because I-” he pauses, biting his lip. His hand moves to tuck a strand behind Seonghwa’s ear, eyes flitting back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know if- can I say it?’

Seonghwa tips his head to the side, confused. It’s not like Hongjoong has ever been so hesitant with his words before. But with the way his chest is moving up and down rapidly, Seonghwa places a hand over his heart.

And then he realizes. He realizes what Hongjoong wants to say.

He feels his eyes start to prick with tears again and a soft, high pitch sound falls from his mouth. His eyelids flutter closed and he nods, very slowly, almost like he’s worried he’ll scare Hongjoong off. 

The man inhales sharply, and then there’s silence, so long that it feels like he can hear his heart pounding in his head.

“I love you.”

It’s like Seonghwa unravels at the softly spoken words and he leans down to take Hongjoong into his arms. “I love you,” Hongjoong repeats, “and I know that we can work if- if you love me too.”

In a way that’s hard to process, Seonghwa, at this moment, has never felt more relief in his entire lifetime. It should feel heavy, those three words that hold so much meaning, partnered with how much it feels like a dream- like Hongjoong has jumped straight out of the screen just to be by his side. Like at any time in their future, he could do that same thing. Just because.

Just because Seonghwa loves him too.

“Six days,” he says, words muffled by Hongjoong’s shirts. “It took me just six days to love you too.” He leans back to rest his forehead against the other’s. “Do you know how absurd that sounds?”

“I’m scared, baby,” Hongjoong says, voice so small and vulnerable that it sends a chill through his body. “But I told you so many times I’m-”

“Crazy about me,” Seonghwa finishes for him. “I know.”

Hongjoong laughs and it sounds so sweet that Seonghwa almost bursts into tears again. He reaches into his back pocket, brandishing a box wrapped in leather. He opens it gently and turns it around to reveal a necklace: two stars, one smaller and plain and another, bigger and studded with diamonds. They’re interlocked like they’re tangled in a dance, moving when the other does too. Hongjoong takes it out very carefully and holds it up. Without a word, Seonghwa lifts up his hair so Hongjoong can lean in and clasp it around his neck. As he does so, he presses a kiss to Seonghwa’s cheek sneakily, making him giggle.

Seonghwa picks up the pendant, looking down and admiring how they shine together. “Please be mine,” Hongjoong says lowly. “I promise you, I will take care of you to the best of my abilities. I’ll never make you feel like I’m not right by your side, even if we’re miles apart.”

Smiling, Seonghwa lifts a hand to his cheek, pulling him into a short kiss. “I’m yours, Kim Hongjoong. As long as I can take care of you too.”

♬⋆.˚

“You two are fucking insane, are you aware of that?!” Wooyoung shrieks from Seonghwa’s phone that’s propped up against a glass of water. Hongjoong, who clings to Seonghwa’s waist as he places two Lego bricks together, chuckles and just nuzzles into Seonghwa’s neck. 

They’re clad in those matching pajama sets they bought two days ago, Star Wars queued up on the TV. Seonghwa has a row of Lego boxes set up on the table in front of them, ready to be built. But before they could get into it, they had to deal with Wooyoung first.

“So, what’s the plan now? How are you guys going to manage this? Because I know Seonghwa’s clingy ass will lose his goddamn mind,” Wooyoung sighs, but looks very intrigued to know the answers to his questions.

“I’ll have to learn and live with it of course,” Seonghwa says casually. “I know it’ll be difficult- I’m not denying that. But I can do it.”

“He’ll never have to feel like I’m not thinking of him every minute, every hour,” Hongjoong promises their friend. Seonghwa grins, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. “I may move back home eventually, but I’m in Korea a lot anyways. My job isn’t one that requires me to be stationary.”

They had talked about it extensively yesterday and over dinner, after Seonghwa had forced Hongjoong to sit across from him and eat. He almost tossed the laptop into Hongjoong’s pool.

Hongjoong was pretty set on moving back, but Seonghwa still wanted him to think about it. So, they’d do a trial run. Half a year of long distance and Hongjoong taking trips back and forth whenever he had work based in South Korea, working with groups. Occasionally Seonghwa would come back to L.A., which he had no issues with at all. But given how he’d be moving around the most due to his job, Hongjoong would take the brunt of the flights. Seonghwa felt bad about Hongjoong having to shoulder all those costs, but the man simply gestured around him to the house with a tired look.

If Seonghwa really couldn’t handle long distance, and Hongjoong really still wanted to move back, they would go through with it. But for now, Seonghwa would have to live off of phone calls, surprise bouquets sent to his work, and lunch bought by Hongjoong from a continent apart.

Wooyoung seems satisfied, though a little doubtful. “You guys are adults, I have faith in you!” he says finally. Then he narrows his eyes, pointing at the screen. “But Hongjoong-ssi if you ever make my hyung feel abandoned, I will fly over there and burn your expensive ass house to the ground, you are-”

“Okay!” Seonghwa leans over and snatches the phone quickly. “That’s enough, Wooyoung! I love you so much, but we have twelve movies to get through and three more days to do so.” Wooyoung protests but Seonghwa just blows a kiss to the camera and clicks the red button. Then, he stuffs his phone under a pillow and grabs the remote.

“He’s funny,” Hongjoong laughs, resting his cheek on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa shakes his head and sighs.

“He won’t commit arson against you, I promise.” He scrolls through the catalogue until he finds Star Wars: A New Hope. Before he can click on it, Hongjoong places a hand over his.

“I won’t hurt you, Hwa,” he says quietly, sincerely. Seonghwa sighs, facing him with an adoring look on his face.

“I trust you, Joong.” He places a kiss on the tip of his pretty nose. “We’ve gone this far, haven’t we?”

Hongjoong grins, showing off his perfect teeth that Seonghwa will miss getting to see in person, before he leans in to kiss him properly.

And as he gets lost in the sensation, he reminds himself to savor the feeling of Hongjoong’s touch for the next three days they have together, so he can remember it until he’s able to hold the man again forever.