Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First thing Hyuntak did was change the contact name from stupid GS<3 into simply bastard. 

He turned his phone back on during the third period, and muttered a string of colourful curses when about roughly twenty notifications piled up on the screen. Most of it was spam, stupid memes and emojis with no substance to them, merely aimed to annoy him. Then there were the provocative messages such as;

bastard: does park humin know he wasnt ur first

Hyuntak wanted to toss his phone out the window. 

It buzzed again, first message after two hours. Of course, Seongje didn’t get bored or forget to keep harassing him like Hyuntak hoped he would.

bastard: r u seriously going to keep ghosting me:(

“Wow.” Hyuntak gasped out loud, shaking his head. He was absolutely infuriated and sick of this. The thought of blocking the contact was on his mind the entire day, but he knew the crazy asshole would take any chance to fuck with him further when he was in the mood. He missed the times they would ignore each other’s existence.

hyuntak: would u please fuck off 

bastard: and here i thought u missed me

hyuntak: how did u unlock my phone?

Silence.

Not surprising, one mildly serious question and the pest got bored, he thought.

Buzz.

Nevermind.

bastard: u forget im still ganghaks top dog

bastard: a favor is all i need to ask

He meant threats. He meant threats to their life, future and security. So no wonder he found someone who is actually capable of cracking a person’s phone.

bastard: or i simply broke in while u were sleeping and used ur fingerprints to reset ur password<3

Hyuntak shuddered, the scenario something he could vividly picture in his mind’s eye.

He shut his phone off once again, the cursed device caused him irreparable levels of anguish by that point. Seongje cluttered the gallery with at least a dozen childhood pictures, some Hyuntak didn’t even know existed. From their impromptu training sessions, arcade playdates, you name it. He could still vividly remember their time spent together, Seongje waiting for Hyuntak to finish his taekwondo sessions so they could hang out and do anything but study.

Most days it was Hyuntak teaching Seongje how to maintain good focus while fighting, aside from teaching him some moves. You would think Hyuntak was the one who taught Seongje how to fight, but that wasn’t the case at all. The older boy grew up on the street, his moves precise, dirty and improvised despite never having had any training. The only thing he lacked was better technique and stamina management, which Hyuntak ended up providing. To think he would help create such a monster.

By the time they were thirteen and attached by the hip, Seongje already had a reputation for being a feral and violent kid. Hyuntak didn’t see that side too often because when they were together, Seongje didn’t go thrill seeking or provoking people into fights. When he did do so his targets would be high schoolers way above his league, but this was intentional. He would get beaten up and improve because of it. Rinse and repeat.

Hyuntak hated telling him to stop or prying too much into his home life, because one time when they were ten, he demanded to know more about Seongje’s family and in turn the boy avoided him for a whole month. Later he came to learn his situation was rough and weird, and that he was borderline homeless some days.

Precisely why Hyuntak dragged Seongje to his house whenever his mom made something he knew his friend would like to eat, and eventually it became something of a regular occurrence in his home. Despite being an unruly kid, he was very good at having manners and behaving in his house, to the point Hyuntak’s mom would joke and chide her own son for being less respectful than his friend.

Nowadays, she stopped asking about Seongje, and it’s been a long time since she’d last brought him up.

The professor finally walked in and Hyuntak decided to at least try and focus on what remained of his classes. He couldn’t afford to fail or get in trouble so much so that he wouldn’t be able to participate in the upcoming basketball tournament.

Humin suddenly ran into the classroom, slightly out of breath.

“I’m sorry I’m late, professor.” He bowed, voice slightly raised and apologetic.

He sat down behind Hyuntak and lightly slapped the back of his head.

“Hey, so what’s up with your phone and Seongje?”

There they came, the questions Hyuntak told him not to ask until the day was over. If he were to be honest, he only told him to wait because he had no idea how to explain this.

He repressed the past he and Seongje shared and treated the present he had with Humin as that which mattered. Because it did, Baku was who he cared about immensely, someone who never hurt him or betrayed him. Someone who rekindled Hyuntak’s faith in strong and beautiful friendships, and now he could proudly say he found even more people like that.

And Seongje, he was just an infected wound that refused to fully heal. Nothing was ever enough, and each time Hyuntak managed to at least fool himself into moving on, Seongje would appear like a recurring nightmare.

Like for instance, that day last spring when he was walking home together with Juntae, and suddenly he felt it. The hairs stood on the back of his neck like the other night at the convenience store. His instincts kicked in and he seldom dodged a teasing kick that came from his right.

And there he stood, Ganghak uniform fitting him so well he could be the school’s poster boy. Hyuntak felt Seongje’s eyes scan him as if searching for something. Then he had the audacity to say “ Long time no see” in front of Juntae, which luckily didn’t arise any uncomfortable questions later on. But now his friends might connect the dots.

An uncomfortable walk to a nearby rooftop followed, silent, the air charged with an unmistakable tension.

Hyuntak hated to make excuses for himself but he was rusty, quite on the contrary in Seongje’s case. He punched, kicked and blocked Hyuntak’s blows without much effort. But his face was serious most of the time, as if this wasn’t something he hoped to enjoy as much as he would have liked. Or perhaps it was another errand Baekjin had him do in order to rile up Humin. A likely occurrence.

The only smiles he managed to successfully drag out from Seongje was when a hit or two got him good, and his masochistic tendencies had the chance to flourish.

Hyuntak ran out of stamina soon enough after that, and was forced to stare into Seongje’s emotionless eyes as he slapped him for the camera.

The feeling of Humin’s hand gently tugging the back of his hoodie snapped him out of his daze. His friend was trying to get his attention once more.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Lie.

He heard Humin sigh and give up, and before long the school day was over. The sound of chairs scraping the floor and his classmates’ loud voices were his cue to get his shit together, certain he was starting to become more suspicious than he already was by the second. He raised up to his feet and stretched as he threw on a smile for Humin.

“I have to go take a piss, I'll come down after.” He winked, perhaps trying too hard to convince his best friend into yet another lie he was telling.

“Yeah, yeah, tiny bladder. Don’t take forever.” There was a lack of joy in Humin's words.

They walked out into the hallway together, one of them going left in the direction of the toilets, the other towards the staircase on their right.

Hyuntak walked inside for the sake of pretense. His reflection stared back at him from the cracked mirror, fresh undercut for the new school year and clear, unblemished skin. Only thing ruining his good looks were his tired, bloodshot eyes. His vision blurred and he shook his head, debating on getting some caffeine out of the shitty coffee machine before heading out. He was going to take the side exit and head straight home.

He stepped out into the hallway, phone feeling a little too heavy in his pocket.

And with Hyuntak’s abundant luck, or lack thereof, he nearly smacked right into Yeon Sieun rounding the corner.

“Oh, Sieun-ah.” He took a step back, staying out of the boy’s personal space. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“You don’t have to apologise, I didn’t see you either.” There was a playful lilt to his voice, Hyuntak realised he was in a great mood.

“Are you going to see Suho?”

“Mhm.” His eyes shone brightly despite the straight line his mouth was set in. “I will see you later, unless you want to walk together?”

Hyuntak was caught off guard, now realising if he were to lie to one of his friends it would mean lying to all of them.

“I was going to meet Baku and Juntae.”

“Are you sure?”

Are you sure? That further bewildered Hyuntak, and he worried if he was the world’s worst liar to have ever lived. He scratched the back of his head, suddenly embarrassed.

“Come.” Was all Sieun said.

“Sure, yeah.”

Hyuntak followed, the device in his pocket burning his skin through the thick fabric of his pants. It was all in his head, of course, but it still felt like someone put a hot piece of iron in its place.

Sieun spoke once again, his voice soft and quiet.

“It’s fine not wanting to talk about your past. I didn’t want to, either.” He glanced at Hyuntak as they walked towards the exit. “You shouldn’t force yourself to tell your friends everything until you’re ready, so don’t go avoiding us either.”

“No, I was-”

“Lying to Humin?”

Those eyes, doe and full of something akin to understanding pierced through him. But they were also sprinkled with thinly veiled judgement at Hyuntak for lying.

“Yeah, I was.” He admitted. “I just didn’t want to talk about what happened this morning and he expects me to tell him everything, because why wouldn’t I, you know?”

“I know.”

They kept walking, side by side as they left the school building behind them.

Suddenly the shorter boy spoke, interrupting the comfortable silence. “I won’t tell them I saw you.”

“Huh?”

“I won’t tell them, but in turn you have to set it straight tomorrow.”

“Set it straight?” Hyuntak was confused, unsure of what he meant.

They stopped walking and Sieun turned to look at him properly.

“Just tell Humin and Juntae you aren’t ready to talk about it. Misunderstandings and omitting stuff never ends well.”

There was a weight to his words. It wasn’t ordinary advice he was offering and Hyuntak instantly understood what his friend meant.

His face warmed up, immediately feeling guilty of his behaviour.

“Okay, yes.” He smiled to show his appreciation. “I will do exactly that, Sieun-ah. Thank you.”

His friend looked away, now shy to keep up the eye contact he usually had no issue with. That boy wouldn’t flinch away from the devil. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You too.” Their eyes met again, corners raised and smiling. “I’ll be late to the bus.”

“Bye bye, Sieun-ah!”

They separated, each going their own respective ways. Hyuntak felt better even as the guilt of lying and trying to escape everything danced in the back of his mind, little voices judging him and prancing about, screaming.

After he felt he got far enough from the school grounds, he slid the phone out of his pocket and held the side button before the small buzz indicated it was turning on. The battery was at 95% which meant Seongje fully charged his phone before returning it.

There was only one message this time.

bastard: heard baku was there when the lackey gave u the phone lol

“This fucking asshole.”

He swiped to back out of the chat to open the settings, fumbling to find where the read receipts toggle was located. He switched it off and while he was at it turned Do Not Disturb on, too.

A slight wind picked up and caressed his face as he descended down the slope before his neighbourhood, pondering which would be the best method of grovelling tomorrow when he sees the disappointed faces of Humin and Juntae.

He went through his backpack and found what he was looking for, pulling out a tangled cable of his in-ear headphones. He made sure his adapter was there before plugging them in and tunnel visioning to his music app, ignoring everything else dotting his screen.

He really had to change that lockscreen.

He barely had the time for one song so he meticulously picked out one of his current favourites, leaving one earbud out of his ear in case of traffic, music blaring loudly in the other. He walked leisurely, trying to relax and feel better despite everything weighing on his soul. He ascended the stairway leading to his unit and twisted the old copper doorknob.

The door opened an inch or so before two voices filtered outside and into Hyuntak’s unoccupied ear.

“No, no, auntie, really, it’s true!” Amused and sweet laughter followed the sentence. “But I am really glad I stopped by, I am usually never in this neighbourhood because my high school is so far away.” 

He whined while Hyuntak’s mother laughed, pleasantly conversing with the one person he would never let step inside their house. Yet there he was, chatting and probably drinking tea with the most important person in Hyuntak’s life.

He stepped in, annoyed and angry as he ripped the headphones out and tossed his backpack off to the side. He didn’t bother taking his shoes off as he made it towards the living area. 

Seongje was sitting on their couch, cup in hand and a smile on his face. He was still clad in his school uniform. His lip seemed to have healed since the last time they saw each other.

“Honey, greet your friend properly.” His mother stood up, taking away the empty tray of whichever snacks she fed Seongje with. He hoped it would give him food poisoning.

They stared at each other, eyes scanning for weaknesses. Or whatever Seongje was looking for as his eyes flitted from bottom to top, before they stilled and looked straight into Hyuntak’s eyes.

“Hi, Hyeontak-ah. How have you been?” He smiled all the way, cockiness spilling out of him in waves and intoxicating the room.

“Perfectly fine. What about you, Seongje?” He spit the words out like it was the hardest thing for him to say, which was partly true.

Seongje stood up, laughing in that manner that made it sound like his breath was hitching as he was doing so.

“Walk me home?” He winked. “After all, we haven't seen each other in so long. Let’s catch up?”

The audacity was bewildering, he couldn't hold his tongue in reply. 

“Sure.” Hyuntak stared him dead in the eye. “You got a home?”

He could see his mother go still in his peripheral vision, but she chose not to say anything.

“Funny.” Seongje got up and walked right by him towards the discarded sneakers laying by the still opened door. Their shoulders brushed. “Let’s go.”

Hyuntak sighed, pinching his nose bridge in exasperation.

“I’ll be back soon.” He told his mother, who smiled and nodded, a little lost in thought after witnessing their tense interaction. To ease her worries, Hyuntak smiled and kissed her on the cheek, before following the other boy outside.

As soon as the doors clicked closed, Seongje had a cigarette in his mouth.

“Those fucking stink.”

“Don’t care. Get used to it.”

“There won’t be a need for that, you fucker.”

Seongje smiled with the cigarette now suspended between his teeth so he wouldn’t drop it. “Follow me.”

“No.”

“Come on. I won’t bite.” He outstretched his pinky finger. “Promise?”

He wiggled his hand for some time, revelling in every reaction he was getting out of this. 

“Shut up and walk. You’re pissing me off.” 

Hyuntak gave in and moved to go first, leaving Seongje behind him to snicker, footsteps coming up in sync as they got down to street level.

He turned around and glared at the nuisance personified, silently asking him which way they were going to go. He wanted to get it over with.

“What? I thought you took the lead for once?” Seongje taunted, exhaling cigarette smoke through his nose. “You used to be good at that, no?”

“Which way do you loiter around nowadays, Seongje?” 

“Oh, I just said whatever to get you outside, but sure. Follow me.”

Hyuntak was visibly taken aback. “What?”

“Follow.”

He conceded and obeyed, unsure himself why he even did so. He resented Seongje, wanted absolutely nothing to do with him or to be in his presence. Even a second felt more than long enough. But curiosity of unknown origin seemed to get beneath his skin, so in the end he saw himself walking side by side while the other didn’t even bother glancing his way. 

They circled around to the street on the other side of Hyuntak’s building, before Seongje spoke up.

“I forgot you and Baku were inseparable.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke and continued, “The kid, dropping off the phone and all. Fucking hilarious.”

This again, he seemed to really want to keep bringing Humin up whenever applicable.

“Is this fun for you, or something?” Hyuntak stopped and grabbed Seongje’s shoulder, turning him so they could face each other properly. 

“Is that not obvious?” Another snicker, another smile. He wanted to punch it clean off his face.

“Why are you doing this, Seongje?” He walked up to his face, glaring. “I thought you were bored of me, or did I get that wrong?

“Bored?” He laughed, smoke escaping his lips. He chucked the half finished cigarette aside and leaned in slightly, their noses almost touching. His eyes looked deranged, pupils blown wide. “Was being bored of you such a crime, friend? Repaying back what you did to me?”

“What I did to you?” Hyuntak nearly shrieked.

An elderly lady dragging a shopper bag on wheels glared at them.

“Yes, what you did to me.” 

Seongje took one step back, eyes unflinching and unmoving from Hyuntaks.

“If we are going to talk about this now of all times, we should probably not do so in the fucking street.”

He then turned and continued moving away, expecting Hyunak to do the same. He concurred and continued walking, but this time only because he wanted to fight Seongje so badly he felt the muscles of his arms vibrate all the way down to his fingertips. Tinnitus hit his ear drums and he could only picture his fist flying towards Seongje’s ugly glasses.

The older boy glanced over his shoulder as if he could smell Hyuntak’s bloodlust. His eyes smiled before his mouth could follow and he nodded his head twice, seemingly pleased.

“This ought to be fun.” He whispered to himself and kept up with the leisurely yet certain pace, meanwhile Hyuntak had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, certain he would lose his composure any moment now.

The road they were taking started to feel familiar after some ten or fifteen minutes.

“Are you seriously taking me to fucking Daesung Motorcycles?”

Seongje turned around and began walking backwards. “So? There’s no more Union, and the prick that is the gangster asshole doesn’t care for this place, either.”

Gangster asshole?

“This where you’ve been sleeping?”

“No.”

Short answer, but it sounded like the truth. Hyuntak figured he couldn’t use the same space one too many times. His anger now bubbled beneath his skin in a less aggressive intensity, but it was far from gone. It was as if he was just waiting for that perfect opportunity, the perfect opening to act. 

The angrier he got, Hyuntak had the tendency to forget who he was dealing with. So it was precisely why he was desperately trying to control himself at that moment.

Seongje unlocked the door and disappeared into the big, cluttered room. The partition which was used to separate the little area by the entrance from where the couches and the office were situated was already up. The air was stale, rubber and piles of discarded cigarettes the only distinguishable scents. Sunlight made its way inside through the filthy windows and allowed for them to spot every speck of dust floating about, which were many in number.

Despite it being early in the afternoon and incredibly bright outside, Daesung Motorcycles remained the ugly, orange hued hole in the wall on the inside.

Hyuntak couldn’t keep his mouth shut for a second longer, irritated they were just standing there in silence.

“So what now? You wanted to talk?” He made sure to throw his hands into mock quotation marks at the word talk .

Seongje took his bag off the one shoulder it was loosely hanging from and tossed it aside without a care for where it landed.

“Talk? Maybe.” He took a cigarette out, not lighting it. “You looked like you would come at me swinging right next to your apartment complex.”

“And what if I was?!”

Seongje laughed, shaking his head and pretending to wipe away imaginary tears.

“I really like your mother, you know.”

That sentence made Hyuntak take several steps towards him.

“Woah, there, mama’s boy. Not like that.” He waved his index finger left and right as if to further his point. “Not that it’s about her, I see where you get your looks from, Tak-ah.”

“Get to the fucking point.” Hyuntak’s hands were clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, bones protruding. 

“All I’m saying is, she’s a lovely lady I have liked since you brought me there for the first time and she made me a sandwich with a smiley face on it. You know, with ketchup.” He lit the cigarette. “It would be a disgrace to her honour if I beat her beloved son to pulp right under her window.”

“You motherfucker.” Hyuntak hissed, this time inching close enough to what he dubbed ‘ideal kick distance’.

“You're so cute when you glare at me like that.” He taunted, ash falling from his cigarette because he was too busy staring at Hyuntak to shake it off.

Every sane thought dissipated from Hyuntak’s brain as if someone pressed a cartoonishly large red button, one with a label warning against doing precisely that.

He threw a reckless kick Seongje’s way which the latter dodged with laughable ease.

“Ah, so we are doing this?” He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly took his glasses off, no rush in his movements. “Okay.”

Seongje threw a punch, fast and direct. He aimed for Hyuntak’s cheek and struck true, his head whipping back as he wondered if it was possible for one punch to break his cheekbone. 

“I thought I told you to stop throwing dumb fucking kicks.”

Another punch, this one Hyuntak blocked with his forearms. He wondered why Seongje took his time instead of assaulting him with a barrage of fast, merciless hits. This wasn’t very much his style.

“Are you holding back, asshole?!”

“What made you think that?” Seongje snorted, taking the still lit cigarette out of his mouth and placing it between his index and middle fingers. It was almost burnt down to filter.

Then he swung.

Hyuntak assumed a defensive position, but he didn’t expect the fist flying towards his nose to suddenly change direction. The cherry red and hot end of the cigarette grazed his knuckles and stung, becoming put out on the backs of his fingers.

“Shit, fuck.” He cursed, waving his hand back and forth with a shocked expression on his face, which raised out a giggle out of the other boy.

“You’re so fun to play with.”

At that statement, as if a man possessed, Hyuntak felt his mind empty. Only things he felt were the pulsing throb of his cheek and the aches in his forearms, the cigarette wound forgotten. He raised his bad knee up, mimicking the motion one would do to land a kick to Seongje’s stomach, and part of him enjoyed seeing his opponent’s eyes drift down to it, an unreadable expression in his eyes. 

Then as fast as he faked the move, Hyuntak switched legs and shot out with a hook kick.

It connected with a satisfying, almost hollow sounding thud to the back of Seongje’s ribs. It caused him to falter for a single moment, but that was all Hyuntak needed to chain it with an impressive roundhouse kick straight into the boy’s jaw. His head whipped back violently, eyes glazing over, shiny and bewildered. 

He fell down hard, catching himself with his hands at the very last second, or else his head would have made contact with the filthy concrete.

Hyuntak wasted no time, adrenaline coursing through his veins and commanding him like a string puppet, no move or action feeling like one truly of his own volition. He dropped down into a crouch and aimed his legs towards Seongje’s neck and shoulders.

Seongje knew exactly what he was planning to do and with a minutely panicked action he attempted to grab one of Hyuntak’s legs and twist them away. However, given he fell down onto his side, Seongje had no purchase or enough strength in said angle to outmanoeuvre Hyuntak’s strong legs.

They shot out towards his neck. 

Seongje ended up in a chokehold, but not your traditional one, his neck between Hyuntak’s thighs as he gasped for air, clawing and punching aimlessly in an attempt to break out.

“I got you now, fucking asshole.”

“You f-” Seongje tried to mutter a curse and failed, the situation he was put in made it difficult to form a single coherent sentence. 

“Are you going to beg me to let you go, Seongje-yah?” Hyuntak felt triumphant, enjoying how the person he hated the most kicked and struggled in his grip, uselessly trying to grab him with outstretched hands.

No answer. It seemed Seongje was too focused on retaining his consciousness. Hyuntak debated on letting go so he could gloat, but he knew well enough that if he were to do that, it wouldn’t end well.

Seongje wasn’t difficult to piss off, hell he would fight you if you looked at him wrong or simply for a second longer than he liked.

The only option was to knock him out and deal with the aftermath some other time. 

Just to see what happens, Hyuntak slightly loosened the grip. Seongje coughed and shook violently, waves of rage spilling from his body and onto Hyuntak’s, skin shivering beneath his Eunjang uniform.

“Let me go, or I will kill you, Go Hyuntak.” 

The threat came out raspy and breathy, something about how his voice sounded made Hyuntak’s stomach do a weird flip. Probably because he skipped lunch break, why else?

“If I do that right now, you will actually kill me.” He reinforced the grip, slightly enjoying how Seongje’s body seemed to relax against its wishes in his hold. “Sweet dreams, fucking asshole.”

Then Seongje’s eyes fluttered shut and he passed out, hands falling away from Hyuntak’s legs. 

Hyuntak let go, reflexively catching the unconscious boy’s head before it could hit the floor. His eyes passed over his features, plump, heart-shaped lips, long eyelashes. He looked so peaceful, so calm there in Hyuntak’s hands, like a stranger you walk by on the street and deja vù hits you like you two met in a distant, past life. 

He straightened up into a sitting position, letting Seongje’s head lay in his lap without much thought about the thoughtful action. 

He sat there for what felt like thirty minutes, and in reality was probably less than five. He watched Seongje’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. His eyes were still, dreamless. 

It reminded him of their sleepovers, of when Hyuntak would awake first and notice Seongje never seemed to be dreaming. He was also an incredibly light sleeper, sometimes waking up simply because Hyuntak opened a window or moved to stand up from the bed. 

It was weird seeing him right now, knocked out and pliable to Hyuntak’s wishes. He debated between tying him up and leaving him there, or something. It would be a decent revenge after what he tried to do to Sieun. 

But the image of a tied up Seongje went through his head and he instantly regretted it, shaking his head. To escape that train of thought, Hyuntak went through his pockets until he found the half empty pack of cigarettes, lighter within. 

He took one out, put it between his lips and flicked the lighter on. It took him a couple tries before the flame steadied and he brought it to the tip of the cigarette. He pulled, inhaling only a little and getting the flame to do its job right. He succeeded in one try, clearly not forgetting how to do it after all these years.

He used to carry a spare lighter on his person, because the bastard kept losing his. So oftentimes Hyuntak would light up Seongje’s cigarettes for him, acquainted with what his ex friend had to do for the flame to take. 

He held the lit stick between his slender fingers and stared at the wisp of smoke rising and disappearing after a couple of pretty twirls. The sight brought him back to that one stuffy summer night, sometime after he turned 15. Seongje dared him to smoke a cigarette, one thing he usually never wanted Hyuntak to do.

But they were tipsy, having stolen a bottle of soju from Hyuntak’s kitchen cabinet and proceeded to run off towards the riverbank. It was humid and hot despite the late hour, and Seongje laughed more than ever at the sight of his best friend coughing uncontrollably. 

“You're so ass at this.”

“I have never smoked before-” Another cough. Hyuntak’s vision blurred, smoke billowing into his watery eyes and he squinted. “How do you even do this shit?”

Seongje didn't reply, only smiled as he tenderly cupped Hyuntak’s face. They were so close that Seongje could see the city lights reflected in his eyes. He wiped the small tear that trickled down Hyuntak’s cheek. 

“Okay, that's enough. Give me the cigarette, Hyuntak-ah.”

“Take it yourself, asshole.”

…

Hyuntak shook his head, having been brought back to reality. The cigarette in his hand was half burned at that point and he decided to take a puff, unable to resist.

And just like that night, he couldn't hold back his coughs, the sensation of swallowing tiny needles stuck in his throat. The cigarette was rancid and way too strong, Seongje having levelled up on the nicotine intake. He was half disappointed it didn’t feel milder like it did that night, when Seongje took it off him, inhaled the smoke deeply within his lungs and brought their faces together only to-

Hyuntak jolted, blushing fiercely. He told himself that night didn't mean anything, that they were drunk and stupid. He felt nothing but vitreous hatred for the asshole suspended in his hold right then and there. 

He reached for Seongje’s discarded backpack, one so light he doubted even a single notebook was located inside, and placed it beneath his neck and head.

He figured that ought to do it, but he will still probably catch a cold.

Hyuntak decided not to care, refusing to move the sleeping bully onto the couch. He was brought back to the memory of himself and Humin running inside this building only to find Juntae dozing off on the couch, Seongje lounging on the other end. Neither had looked at the other, not even sparing a glance. 

The bastard had the courtesy to make sure his hurt friend was comfortable, but he didn't think Seongje deserved the same gesture. He left him there on the ground, still and kind of peaceful. Hyuntak butted the cigarette out next to Seongje’s head and then put it in his hair, hoping it would stink. 

The petty action made him feel better about himself. He stood up, dusting himself off and trying to remove the disgusting dirt smearing his favourite hoodie. 

Walking out into the fresh air felt better than it should have, perhaps due to the fact he was alone and free, finally. He picked up the pace, wanting to get far away from the warehouse as quickly as his legs would take him. 

He only relaxed when he spotted his street out in the distance. He grabbed his phone, fiddling with it until all the notifications could arrive normally. He scrolled down the contacts’ list on his phone and texting apps until he found and blocked Seongje’s number. All that remained was the rest of the bullshit that got put into his gallery. 

First thing Hyuntak did was change the wallpaper back to his favourite picture he took on their freshman year aquarium trip, and the lockscreen to the picture of his late cat. After doing that, he selected all of the pictures Seongje planted into his phone. His finger hovered over the delete button.

He blinked once, twice. His brain fogged, hand suddenly unsteady. He looked up at the blue sky and muttered a curse before bringing his gaze back onto his phone. He pressed the little plus symbol and created a new folder, slotting all of the pictures within. He then opted to hide the album.

Everything felt like it went back to normal, even if it was most likely an illusion. Seongje would wake up and retaliate, no doubt about it. Deciding not to delve on it too much, Hyuntak dialed Humin’s number. His best friend picked up after two rings. 

“Gotak?! Are you okay?!”

His voice was worried and urgent. Hyuntak felt terrible about it.

“Yeah, Baku, I’m sorry for running off.”

“Where are you? You’re not home.”

“Oh.” His best friend went to search for him, of course he did. “I just, uhm...”

He hesitated.

“Your mom told me you went to walk a friend home. Was it Sieun?”

“We did walk together, yeah.”

“Gotak.”

“Hm?”

The line died and Hyuntak frowned, confused. He thought he accidentally hung up with his ear.

“Hey, Gotak.”

Park Humin’s voice, but it didn’t come from the phone, no, it came from nearby.

His best friend stood in front of him, already changed out of his school clothes.

“Baku? What the hell, how are you here?”

He walked towards him, glad to see a familiar face after everything that happened not even thirty minutes ago.

Humin took a deep breath, threw on a smile and enunciated his next sentence.

“You and I, we are going to shoot some hoops. Saying no is not an option!”

Hyuntak was taken aback, but not against the idea. “Okay, sure.”

“Then when we’re done, you can decide whether you want to talk about why that psychopath seems to have a hard on for you. And what happened to your cheek.” He smiled. “Or not.”

“Get going, you crazy asshole.” Hyuntak smiled back, shaking his head.

And the pair walked off, laughing and slapping each other on their backs. Hyuntak was comfortable and happy for the first time that day, completely oblivious to what’s to come, or the social media post that began spreading like wildfire later that evening.

One that Juntae will send to their group chat the next day, a post made by none other than Geum Seongje. A selfie of his, no glasses, disheveled hair and a cigarette butt hanging above his forehead. He had the audacity to pout in the picture.

The post had dozens if not a hundred comments, all sparked because of the caption which read;

if you wanted to shotgun a cigarette again, eunjang, all u had to do was ask