Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Moving day was a hot and humid day, like most days in Seoul around the time. Not even the stairs in front of the dormitory, painted in rainbow colours, could lift Jongwoo's mood, as he dragged his suitcase along.

Jieun had originally offered her help, but Jongwoo didn't want to impose on her already busy schedule. So here he was - shirt drenched in sweat and sticking to his skin - passing through the doors of the dormitory building. At least there was a soothing coldness in the building. His dorm room, which he apparently shared with another guy, was on the third floor, so the horror of heaving his stuff up numerous stairs wasn't over just yet.

He sighed, already feeling the ache in his body. Still, after some minutes, he finally made it to the door he was searching for.

Room 303, the place that would be Jongwoo's home for the next year. Or well, his and that of some guy named Seo Moonjo.

He unlocked the door, not even bothering to knock, because frankly he hoped he could still be alone for some time. Yet, it seemed as though luck wasn't in Jongwoo's favor today. The room was fairly large - for a dorm room - and a book shelf underneath a window divided the space into two nearly identically arranged sides. What caught Jongwoo's eye however, was the right side already being occupied by a dark haired boy who was in the middle of putting on black bed sheets.

At the sound of Jongwoo entering the room, the boy turned around with the sliver of a mustering expression present, before the stranger smiled at him. His eyes, partially hidden by the black locks of hair, were like a pair of round wells. It seemed easy to get lost in them, despite the smile that reached his eyes. Jongwoo also regocnized how pale the other boy was. The silence between them lasted a few seconds, until Jongwoo concluded that he must look extremely creepy, staring at his roommate without saying anything. So he shook his head a little, the movement just noticeable enough for the roommate to initiate conversation again.

"Ahh, you must be my roommate. I'm Seo Moonjo, nice to meet you!", he said, his voice weirdly soft.

Jongwoo nodded stiffly. Maybe the heat was getting to him, or he was a little mesmerized by Moonjo's appearance. Or it was both; in any case, he felt faint.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Yoon Jongwoo!", he responded, already beelining towards his side of the room.

The roommate thankfully didn't seem to be put off by Jongwoo's awkwardness. He also turned back around to his side, continuing to unpack. There was just something about the guy that made Jongwoo avoid direct eye-contact. So instead he busied himself with opening his suitcase, vaguely aware of a pair of deep black eyes on his back.

'Is he still staring at me? I mean, okay, I did the same just seconds ago, but he's not even looking at my face now', Jongwoo thought.

After some more minutes passed by in steadily increasing awkwardness, Jongwoo opted for smalltalk again. Despite his off-putting aura, Moonjo was still his roommate for the next year. And the two should get along at least a little, otherwhise the fantasy of college that Jongwoo had dreamed about could turn sour pretty quick.

"So.., are you a freshman?", he mumbled, body slightly turned towards Moonjo. In his peripheral vision Jongwoo could see the slight shaking of Moonjo's head. "No, this is my second year. I'm a sophomore", he said. "What about you?"

Jongwoo, who had finished changing his bed sheets, sat atop the bed in order to look at Moonjo. "Oh, so I should call you hyung.. I'm a freshman."

Moonjo hummed, and also sat on his bed. Now they were sitting opposite to each other, and the atmosphere seemed to grow increasingly weird. Moonjo kept staring at him, the soft smile still present on his lips, and Jongwoo tried his best not to comment on the guy's behaviour.

'First impressions tend to be wrong anyways... Maybe this guy is just overly friendly?' , he tried to reassure himself.

"And what do you study, Jongwoo-ah?", now Moonjo was leaning forwards, elbows resting on his thighs.

"Ah I'm majoring in English. So a lot of literature and stuff like that. And you?", he answered. At the answer, it seemed like Moonjo's smile quirked up slightly.

'What's so funny about my major?'

"I'm in undergraduate studying medicine."

Jongwoo mentally scoffed at him. 'Of course, i bet he's looking down at me. Typical, he's handsome, smart and probably from a well-off family. And now I'm stuck with him for the next year!'

But before Jongwoo could continue his tirade, Moonjo leaned back again, his gaze still firmly on Jongwoo's face.

"So, do you like writing?", he asked out of the blue, pulling Jongwoo from his thoughts. The later blinked dumbly.

"Uhm.. yeah, how'd you know?", Jongwoo tried to answer without showing the annoyance he felt towards his roommate. But while he managed to sound neutral, his face definitely gave him away. He'd always had troubles with anger, and especially with masking his feelings.

Moonjo chuckled softly. "It was a guess, but you have very delicate fingers." And then, as if that would better his statement, he added: "Oh, I'm sorry, that sounded much creepier than I intended."

Jongwoo furrowed his brows, and his brain was working terribly hard to figure out a response. Yet Moonjo just sat there, looking both pleased with himself, and definitely not sorry for what he said.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?", Jongwoo bit out, and he hoped Moonjo could take the hint and toss away the creepiness.

Instead, the guy's smile just became even more smug. "I'm terribly sorry. I just like you. I've been meaning to befriend you", he said non-chalantely. Jongwoo wanted to punch him at that.

'What kind of reason is that?', now he was really confused.

"But anyways, what genre do you like the most? I love thrillers, especially the work of Raymond Chandler", he continued. It was like nothing Jongwoo said, no matter the annoyed intonation could mess with Moonjo's flow.

That, however surprised Jongwoo.

"Really? That's crazy, he's my favourite author too!", like whiplash, Jongwoo's sour expression became softer.

'Maybe I did judge him too fast. My mom told me to be more open-minded, and here I was..'

Moonjo grinned again, his upper body leaning towards Jongwoo again. His eyes found Jongwoo's easily, and now they were holding eye-contact. From this angle, the grin on the pale guy's lips looked creepy again. But Jongwoo forced those thoughts away - he wanted to at least try and become friends with his roommate.

"Well, I'd love to find more things that we have in common, jagiya"

Chapter Text

"Well, I'd love to find more things that we have in common, jagiya", Moonjo grinned.

Jongwoo on the other hand wasn't sure how to respond to that, so in a panic, he opted for a breathy scoff, hoping to sound like he was laughing at Moonjo. His flushed cheeks however betrayed his plan to act calm.

"Did you just call me jagiya?", his eyes were in a frenzy to look anywhere but at Moonjo. His fists gripped the sheets of his bed, again indicating his being flustered at the other's remark.

'Who does he think he is, calling me that with that smug expression? And just when I thought he might be a nice guy!'

And what made Jongwoo even angrier was that stupid grin plastered on Moonjo's face. Like he was oh so very pleased with himself. Still, the older boy sensed Jongwoo's increasing anger and leaned back again, keeping a more comfortable distance between the two.

"Ah relax, it's just a habit of mine."

He stood up from his seated position, and only now did Jongwoo really get a look at the other. From where he was sitting, Moonjo seemed so impossibly tall and looming. The long black hair, horribly black eyes and dark clothes didn't help this image.

"You're probably hungry, right? Let's order some food", Moonjo added, reaching for his phone and flinging a brochure at Jongwoo.

The insinuation that Jongwoo was cranky because of hunger was left unspoken - which was probably partly true.

'I sure hope he's paying for it, that's the least he can do’, Jongwoo grumbled, looking at the brochure.

The brochure belonged to a Korean restaurant not far from campus, and it advertised itself with its apparently delicious galbi-tteokbokki. So, the two ended up ordering said tteokbokki, kimbap and soup. Jongwoo didn’t care about the prize, he’d already told Moonjo he should pay.

But he didn’t know why the other man agreeing so easily to his condition made him even more annoyed. Stupid Moonjo, already messing with his mood on his first day at campus.

After calling the restaurant and ordering, Moonjo continued unpacking. Despite his weirdness, he actually didn’t own anything that was outwardly alarming to Jongwoo, he found as he looked at Moonjo’s side.

His desk was already proud owner of a stack of heavy books, spanning numerous medical topics. Surprisingly, there were also some potted plants, and they all seemed to be healthy. In fact, his side of the room already looked very clean and sophisticated – and the contrast to how Moonjo currently looked made Jongwoo question himself again.

“You said you’re studying medicine?”, Jongwoo’s mouth asked before his brain could interject.

‘Why am I still trying to get to know him?’, he mentally cursed himself.

Moonjo hummed, a sign for Jongwoo to pose his question. “Why? I mean yeah, being a doctor pays well, but it’s hard work.”

The other boy, who was currently putting clothes in his closet, turned around again. His gaze turned to the floor before he made eye-contact with Jongwoo again.

‘There he goes… can’t he not look at me directly?’, Jongwoo looked away.

“Hmm, well I think it’s amicable to work hard for yourself. And I want to help others, you know? But not as a surgeon or something like that, I’d much rather have my own place”, Moonjo answered.

Now it was Jongwoo’s turn to hum. “I see.. and which field?”, nevertheless, he avoided looking at Moonjo. Outside the window he had a nice view of campus.

“Dentistry”, Moonjo said, and a shiver ran down his back as Jongwoo realized how close the other was. He could feel Moonjo’s breath on his nape.

Like he was struck by lightning, Jongwoo turned around sharply, almost punching the black-haired man in the process. And Moonjo had the audacity to grin at him again, their faces too close for comfort.

“Don’t you know personal space?”, Jongwoo yelled. The redness of his face was now more anger than embarrassment, but Moonjo still looked amused.

He resumed his position at the closet, calmly walking away from Jongwoo. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to not look at someone when you’re having a conversation?”, Moonjo said, as if Jongwoo was at fault.

But before Jongwoo could actually punch him, the doorbell rang. Jongwoo was angry, but he was hungrier, so he supposed he could subdue the urge to give Moonjo a bloody nose in favor of a nice meal.

Moonjo smiled at him, this one seeming much more like a guess-your-anger-issues-will-have-to-wait-smile and went to the doorbell to pick up and pay for their food.

Not long after, Moonjo and Jongwoo were sitting on the carpet between their beds, a small table set up in between for the food.

Whereas Moonjo seemed to lounge against his bed quite comfortably, his legs stretched as if he was trying to reach Jongwoo, the later was sitting stiff as a board. He felt like he was eyeing his opponent in self-defense.

“Should I ask you why you’re frowning at me?”, Moonjo said after a while, setting his chopsticks down to pick up a glass of water. There it was again – that annoying smirk of his.

‘It hasn’t even been half a day and I already regret moving to the dorms. Who does he think he is?’, Jongwoo didn’t answer him.

Sighing, Moonjo finished the rest of his food, and changed his position, so that he was now leaning against the bookshelf. He looked at Jongwoo, raising his knee up to rest his arm on top of it.

“No, that would be petty of me. Let’s just talk some more. Where are you from?”

‘Sure, let’s talk. I guess I can be less immature, I’ll give him another chance.’

Jongwoo also put down the empty plate of food.

“I’m from Busan. It’s surprising you couldn’t guess from the way I speak. What about you?”, he answered.

“Seoul, or well, the outskirts of it. And your dialect is actually not that strong, at least not now.”

Jongwoo nodded. A somewhat awkward silence settled between them, but he wasn’t going to be the one to break it. In fact, he reached for his phone. He needed to get out of Moonjo’s space, for both his sanity and the other’s safety.

Jongwoo, 5:05 pm : Jieun-ah, I just finished moving in. What’s your dorm room number? I’ll come by quickly :)

Jieun, 5:10 pm : It’s 410, building B. My plans were cancelled anyway, so we can hang out a little^^

He smiled at his phone. Despite his embarrassingly long crush on Jieun, the two were better off as friends anyways.

Jongwoo grabbed his keys, wallet and nearly sprinted towards the door, shoes on faster than ever before.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”, Moonjo asked, sounding vaguely disappointed. Jongwoo just hummed in agreement, already out the door.

---

Half an hour later, Jongwoo was sitting in Jieun’s dorm with her and her roommate Junghwa. Their dorm felt like home, the comfort increased by the amount of artwork – curtesy of Jieun being an art major –, books and plants present.

Unlike Jongwoo and Moonjo, Junghwa and Jieun had already known each other for quite a while – in fact they have been best friends since their first year of high school. Especially being the only girls in their friend group, they eventually spent more time together than apart.

The three of them were talking and – in the case of Jongwoo and Junghwa, who hadn’t really been very close before – catching up on life. It wasn’t the most interesting conversation, but Jongwoo was desperate for some normalness after the short-lived fiasco with Moonjo.

“So, do you have a single dorm? Or are you sharing?”, Jieun asks.

Jongwoo slumped, like the mere mention of his roommate made him tired. “No, the additional cost was too much. But I sort of regret it, because my roommate is a little … weird”, he confessed.

Jieun, always optimistic, threw him a lopsided smile. “Maybe you just got off on the wrong foot?”, she suggested.

“Moving day is usually where people are at their worst, don’t worry Jongwoo”, Junghwa added.

‘I know they’re trying to help me with my social life, but I really have a bad feeling about Moonjo’, nevertheless Jongwoo kept his worries to himself.

Instead, he suggested they go out for drinks, sort of as a celebration that they all got into the same university. So, the three walked off campus, searching for a cozy bar.

---

Nearly two and a half hours and a couple rounds of drinks later, the trio made their way back to campus. Thankfully, Jongwoo decided to take it slow, and not give in to his self-destructive habits. All three were a bit more than tipsy, swaying around happily, walking through the chilly night. Jongwoo’s mood was already so much better than hours before.

“Ah, oppa, take care on your way back”, Jieun slurred, as Jongwoo bid them goodnight. He had walked them back to their dorm, despite knowing that even a tipsy Junghwa could take down any threat in minutes.

“Be sure to make ou-up with your roommate, Jongwoo-ya!”, Junghwa added, lying on her bed as far as Jongwoo could see.

The alcohol in his system made his cheeks flush slightly at her mishap, but he ended up saying a quick goodbye to the two and continuing to his dorm building.

When he unlocked the door, the room was dark safe for the streetlight coming through the window curtain.

‘Seems like Moonjo’s gone out as well.. Not like I mind’, Jongwoo smiled. It was only 10 pm, but he had classes early in the morning, and frankly he didn’t want to risk a late night confrontation with his roommate.

So off to bed he went, setting his alarm and changing into comfortable pajamas before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Jongwoo couldn't remember the last time he actually woke up before his blaring alarm did. Maybe going to bed so early was a good idea for numerous reasons. He tended to stay up all night whenever he was stressed out, but thankfully he had one of the most pleasant nights in a while. Turning around to reach for his phone, he squinted at the screen.

'It's just 6:30 am and my first class isn't until 8:15 am..', he pondered about going to sleep again, or maybe he should go to the bakery near campus for breakfast?

Nevertheless, he should probably take a shower, so going back to sleep would be a dumb decision. So Jongwoo stretched his limbs and sat up begrudgingly.

One look to his right told him that Moonjo was already up. It didn’t surprise Jongwoo, the other boy seemed like the type to always get up way too early. Jongwoo’s first impression of him was, that he did look quite sleep-deprived, even though Moonjo didn’t have any visible eyebags. But who was Jongwoo to judge?

As Jongwoo took out a comfortable set of clothes for the day, he heard the bathroom door unlock. Out came Moonjo, wearing only underwear with a towel wrapped around his neck. His hair, still wet clung to his forehead, and the lack of tidiness that Jongwoo was used to from his roommate made Moonjo look much more human.

Moonjo must have noticed his staring, as he gave him a lazy grin. “You’re up already?”, he asked, like he didn’t expect to see Jongwoo this early in the morning.

Despite the fact that he now knew the bathroom was free to use, Jongwoo still looked at Moonjo. He had broad shoulders, and his figure was very toned, making Jongwoo a little insecure about the lack of abs on his body. Yet, Moonjo’s torso seemed to be covered in light scars, drawing across his skin like the strokes of a pen.

‘He has an awful lot of scars… How did he even get those? But I doubt he wanted me to see them, I should look away!’, Jongwoo wondered. During his small internal monologue, Moonjo stood in front of his closet, but his gaze was directed at Jongwoo. He was apprehensive, like he didn’t know what to expect of the shorter male.

“Yeah, I went to bed early, I have my first class at 8:15 am”, he answered after a while. Moonjo nodded in response. Feeling like his part of the conversation was done, Jongwoo escaped to the shower.

The cold water did wonders in soothing his temper and going to the first day of school freshly showered was always a great idea. He also didn’t want to invite empathetic feelings about Moonjo into his already confusing idea of the guy.

---

After visiting the bakery for a hot cup of coffee and a roll of kimbap for breakfast, Jongwoo still arrived at his first class quite punctual. He had his books in hand, excited about finally going to university – away from his family and finally gaining a sense of independence. Funnily enough, Jongwoo found himself smiling, like an absolute idiot.

‘Who’s that giddy on the first day of class?’, he thought jokingly.

As the room fills up with people, the atmosphere loud and quite high-spirited, however, it dawned on Jongwoo that he never actually did any of the preparation work necessary for this class.

English literature was something he was passionate about, but the hectic nature of living with his single mother, and brother who enjoyed annoying Jongwoo more than anything, got in the way of schoolwork. Especially during the summer when his mother needed Jongwoo to take up a job in order to boost their financial stability.

Feeling his mood plumbing down again already, he sat down as far away from the professor as possible.

‘I’ve heard Jaeho talk so about how his professors never question if he did an assignment or not. Surely, the professors have more important things to do than to monitor the work of every student, right? I have a good reason why I didn’t do it too! Aghh, why am I worrying about this now!’, Jongwoo muttered under his breath.

While the professor was starting to go over the syllabus – she thankfully mentioned that prep work could still be finished this week, and appropriate credit would still be given -, Jongwoo pulled out his phone again, fingers tapping on Jieun’s contract as if on instinct.

‘Maybe we can meet up again...’, he thought absentmindedly.

Jongwoo, 8:25 am : Good morning, do you have time to meet up at the library today? I didn’t have time to finish preparation work, and I was thinking of starting today…

He put his phone down again, and listened to the professor, who was already wrapping up her introduction, continuing with the first topic of her class – Shakespeare and an introduction to drama.

To his surprise, Jieun responded quite fast. ‘Seems like she also has class early morning...’, Jongwoo thought at the sound of the new message.

Jieun, 8:40 am : Good morning :) Sure, I have classes until the evening, but I have an hour to spare at 2:30 pm, does that work?
Jongwoo, 8:41 am : Yeah, that works great!

Now he just had to get through the next one and a half hour of Shakespeare and then another two hours of actual English class, which he dreaded a lot more. Following a comfortable hour with Jieun to calm him before the inevitable encounter with his roommate.

The thought of Moonjo made Jongwoo shiver already, but thankfully he’d get to spend time with Jieun, so he supposed he could get through the day. And in reality, he really should talk things out with Moonjo in order to at least have a normal acquaintanceship between roommates. Jongwoo was not prepared to go home everyday for the next year, dreading the only personal space he had.

---

Shortly after 2pm, Jongwoo exited his final class for the day. Now he had his stack of previously discarded prep work as well as an essay assignment from his second class on language development.

He stopped at the university’s cafeteria for another coffee and some ramyeon, as he was pretty hungry after not eating for nearly six and a half hours. In the end, Jongwoo made it to the library quite punctually, choosing a table near the entrance so that Jieun could find him without much searching. In fact, Jieun walked through the doors not long after, smiling despite her looking obviously tired from the day.

“Oppa! How was your day?”

While looking at her, Jongwoo found himself comforted by her soft eyes, which stood in great contrast to Moonjo’s eerie black ones, and the gentleness of her smile. A smile which, Jongwoo found, showed Jieun’s dimples.

“Oh well, it was okay, I guess. Just a rougher start to the semester than I imagined. What about you?”, he smiled at her. Jieun on the other hand sighed dramatically and planted her head in between her crossed arms on the table.

“So, we’ve both had a bad day? I don’t even know why I’m so exhausted, but my professor assigned a lot of work already and I just got confirmation about the interview to my internship. And looking at my schedule, I’ll either have to stop sleeping or cut down on my parttime job to make everything work!”

Jongwoo smiled at her sympathetically, rubbing soothing circles into her back, as she ranted about her problems. It was nice to see her so annoyed for a change, as he usually played that role.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll manage perfectly. You always do, and your organization skills are better than anybody I know”, he said. Jongwoo was bad with advice, but Jieun really was great at organizing herself and her work. He was sure she’d manage without sacrificing her sleep.

Jieun rolled her head over to look at Jongwoo, smiling slightly. “Yeah you’re probably right.. I’m sorry for dumbing this on you”, she mumbled, sitting up straight.

Soon after, both Jongwoo and Jieun had their laptops out, and started diligently on organizing the work they had to do. Or rather Jieun created an excel sheet, and made a structured list in her bullet journal, while Jongwoo wrote down two dates with their respective deadlines. Needless to say, Jieun chuckled a little and Jongwoo sheepishly turned his laptop screen away, and the two started working in comfortable silence.

But as good things rarely last long for Jongwoo at the moment, a familiar face came through the library doors, immediately noticing the pair. Jongwoo’s face fell at Jaeho’s entrance, but he tried to avoid the frown making it to his lips.

“Jongwoo, Jieun! What a coincidence!”, he exclaimed, way too loud for a library full of students.

Jaeho sat himself down next to Jieun, who seemed a lot happier to see him than Jongwoo. Which was fair, the two had also been friends, but Jongwoo knew that Jaeho knew about his crush on Jieun. And he also knew that unfortunately, Jaeho also liked her.

“Ah oppa, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”, Jieun asked cheerfully.

“Oh just horrible without you around. But no, life has been quite great for me”, he laughed. “And you?”

“Same as usual, although I got to relax a lot over the summer”, Jieun responded.

Jongwoo rolled his eyes, already focusing on his laptop again. He wasn’t surprised to find Jaeho excluding him from the conversation.

“Ah yes, you were on vacation to Italy, no? No wonder your skin is glowing” – Jieun giggled at that remark – “My parents and I went to our house in Jeju, next time you should definitely come with. Maybe take Junghwa too?”, he continued.

“I’d love to go on vacation together, you know, just the four of us”, Jieun said, and Jongwoo mentally somersaulted at the fact that she didn’t forget about him.

‘And I’d love it if Jaeho would stop blatantly flirting with Jieun while I’m right there. He knows I like her!’, he thought grimly.

As if on cue, Jaeho turned to him, acting like he just now saw Jongwoo sitting there. Jaeho even slapped his forehead slightly, indicating he felt stupid about his ‘mistake’. His gesture, dramatic as ever, was making Jongwoo more annoyed more than anything.

“OH! Jongwoo, you’re here too? I’m sorry, you know I get tunnel vision around pretty girls”, he joked.

Jongwoo, trying to be polite, laughed a little. “No worries, I was concentrated on my work anyways”, he wasn’t going to give Jaeho the satisfaction of knowing that his behaviour trampled on Jongwoo’s good mood.

“That reminds me, I was going to throw a little get-together on Saturday, because my parents are away visiting friends. You two are obviously invited. Ah, and bring Junghwa along too, Jieun”, Jaeho said after that.

‘Sure. It’s not like I have anything else to do, and a party usually means free alcohol and food’, Jongwoo pondered. Then – ‘and maybe I’ll puke on Jaeho’s expensive furniture’ – he chuckled silently to himself.

So, he agreed, same as Jieun and probably Junghwa as well.

As the hour drew to a close, Jieun excused herself to go to her third class of the day, leaving Jaeho and Jongwoo alone at the table. But, to neither of the boys’ surprise, Jaeho had an excuse to leave the ensuing awkwardness.

“Oh, Jongwoo I’m sorry, I forgot that I promised my roommate we’d buy groceries. I gotta go.. It was nice talking to you, see you on Saturday!”, he said, and without skipping a beat or waiting on Jongwoo’s reaction, he was out the door.

‘Typical. As if Jaeho would help anyone who wasn’t a pretty girl, or someone he’d benefit off’, Jongwoo sneered. Nevertheless, he also packed his stuff to head out.

But the boy didn’t come very far – barely half-way past the librarian’s table – when he heard someone call after him. Or well he thought it was directed at him.

“Hey, you, young man!”, it was a female voice, and Jongwoo supposed it was an older lady. As he turned around, there really was a woman waving at him, sitting behind the computer at the librarian’s table.

She truly looked like a stereotypical ‘ahjumma’, her hair in a near perfect circle around her head, dressed in flowery clothes and wearing bright pink lipstick. Jongwoo hummed, walking towards her.

“Ahjumma, is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course! But you’re the roommate of Seo Moonjo, right?”, she asked. The highly unexpected mention of his name threw Jongwoo off course. Why does everything seem to revolve around the black-haired guy?

Slightly confused, he nodded.

“Perfect! Could you give this to him? Me and his mother are quite close, so I often prepare food for Moonjo. You can have some too of course. Moonjo has spoken fondly of you, young man”, she grinned, sliding Jongwoo a Tupperware box of probably meat in it.

Even more confused, he nodded again, picking up the box.

“Yes, will do. Goodbye then”, he wanted to get away from the woman as fast as possible, getting similar vibes from her as he did from Moonjo.

‘No wonder the two are close, both are creepy. And what does she mean by ‘fondly’? I hoped that my distaste for Moonjo was pretty evident’, Jongwoo was so very confused and mildly angry.

This was not the first day he’d expected. Far from it.

Chapter Text

He should just leave the Tupperware box somewhere else and ignore whatever the librarian lady said to him.

Really, his mental voice reassured him, he should throw it into the nearest garbage bin. The eerie redness of the meat was creepy as is.

But his mother also repeatedly told him to never waste food. And it would be quite childish to act like that.

With a sigh – it felt like Jongwoo’s past days had been spent only sighing and being angry at his roommate – he opened the door to his dorm room. Following the trend of his bad luck, Moonjo was sitting at his desk, headphones in and seemingly very concentrated on his work.

Yet the moment Jongwoo stepped past the threshold of their door, Moonjo recognized the sound, and turned towards him. And as soon as the two made eye contact – much to the chagrin of Jongwoo – Moonjo threw him his signature grin again.

“Ah, you’re back again!”, Moonjo said, turning around in his chair completely.

Jongwoo nodded, closing the door fully and pulling his shoes off. If it wasn’t for the added creepiness and the lacking knowledge of social interactions, Moonjo resembled an over-excited golden retriever. Jongwoo snorted silently at that.

As Jongwoo got closer, Moonjo noticed the box in his hands. “What’s that?”, he asked, looking up at Jongwoo who had stopped next to Moonjo.

“There was this woman in the library who told me she’s close with your mother? Anyways, she gave me this to give it to you”, Jongwoo answered, pushing the box on the unoccupied space of Moonjo’s desk.

The other’s eyes glinted with something like recognition and – Jongwoo didn’t want to find out why exactly – a sense of bitterness. But as fast as the change in expression came, it was replaced with Moonjo’s smile, this time less creepy and more friendly.

“You must’ve met Ms. Eom, she’s like a second mother to me”, Moonjo explained and for a split second Jongwoo missed the familiar confidence in the dark-haired man’s voice.

“Ms. Eom makes this marinated meat a lot, and she often gives me food. Do you want to have some too? I bought drinks earlier, they’re in the fridge”, Moonjo offered.

Jongwoo looked at his roommate for a little, then moved his gaze to the side, weighing his options. ‘I could go for a drink… but there’s no way I’m touching that meat’, he mused. Eventually, he nodded in agreement, not missing the quirk in Moonjo’s grin.

‘Is he that excited over sharing some food with me?’, Jongwoo managed to turn around before Moonjo could glimpse at the borderline-disgusted expression on his face. He rolled his eyes, of course Moonjo would be.

As Jongwoo opened the fridge, there really was a lot of options; beer, sparkling water and several types of fruit juice were available. “Is there something specific that you want?”, Jongwoo asked, turning around slightly to look at Moonjo.

The other was leaning backwards in his chair, a smug but slightly … fond expression on his face. “Just water is fine”, he replied to which Jongwoo returned with a beer and a bottle of water in hand.

Like the last time they had eaten together, the table was put up again between their beds, and the two boys were sitting on opposite sides. Moonjo placed two plates as well as two pairs of chopsticks down, the box of surreally red meat in the middle. All the while, Jongwoo eyed the man suspiciously, especially as he plopped down and reached for a slice of meat.

To Jongwoo’s distain however, he placed the slice on the plate closer to Jongwoo before getting another slice for himself. Reluctantly, Jongwoo took a leisurely sip from the can of beer, before picking up the meat with his chopsticks.

“You sure you want to share it?”, he asked. Moonjo nodded, the slice of meat in his chopsticks now resting on his lips.

His eyes found Jongwoo’s so that he could maintain eye-contact yet again. Moonjo grinned, slipping the meat through his lips and chewing much longer than one usually would. And Jongwoo would swear on everything he owned that Moonjo’s grin became psychotic for a split second.

“What? You think this is human meat, huh?”, the other grinned.

The color drained from Jongwoo’s face, and he nearly threw the chopsticks and meat down on the plate. ‘What the fuck is going on with this guy?’, his thoughts were racing already. ‘What does he get out of jokes like that??’

Jongwoo hoped it was a joke.

“Jagi you don’t have to do anything”, Moonjo whispered, leaning closer to Jongwoo. His already naturally pink lips were smudged red. Combined with Jongwoo’s panic-induced dizziness, the overlaying embarrassment of them being closer than comfort, made him lean backwards. Unsure about whether or not he’d spill the beer if he leaned back any further, he discarded the can on the table.

But to his surprise, Moonjo seemed keen on tormenting him further, so the dark-haired guy moved forwards on his knees – and while the image of tall and looming Moonjo crawling on the floor was a sight to behold – Jongwoo wasn’t in the mood to belittle the other.

Not when Moonjo caged him in-between two hands gripping the bed frame behind him.

Definitely not when the horrible guy leaned down until Jongwoo’s entire field of vision was occupied by the other’s face.

‘This guy is too touchy for his own good’, Jongwoo thought, his throat going dry at the unmoving nature of Moonjo in front of him.

So Jongwoo did what he was best at – speak before thinking about it. “Why do you feel the need to get this close?”, he said, voice even slightly strained. Why couldn’t he at least sound intimidating?

Moonjo’s red-pink lips were pulled into a smug grin. “Jagi, I’ve barely seen you since yesterday”, he said so non-chalantly that Jongwoo wondered if Moonjo could even comprehend how terribly creepy he sounded.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”, Moonjo continued, still not moving from the spot.

That however, made Jongwoo stare at the other with the best glare he could muster up, eyebrows drawn together tightly. He felt his voice coming back. “What do you even mean? First off, we’re just roommates, you don’t need me around 24/7. Second off, are you not hearing yourself? You’re creeping me out, man!”, Jongwoo yelled, the temptation to yank the others hair away with a fist full of his dark hair was big, but he digressed.

His roommate’s grin widened even more, and he looked amused if anything. “Oh, what do you know about my needs?”, he almost whispered.

Frankly, this calm and confident demeanor couldn’t be much different from Jongwoo’s irrational and hot-heated behavior.

And like the cherry on the top, Moonjo’s right hand ceased gripping the bed, and moved to massage the back of Jongwoo’s hair, in a manner that would be soothing if one ignored the circumstances.

Jongwoo fixated Moonjo with yet another angry glare. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”, he spat out, not furious at the idea of his roommate being homosexual but furious at the idea of THIS highly creepy roommate being homosexual.

“Well, would that pose a problem, jagiya?”, he cocked his head to the side slightly. His right hand moved forward to touch his jaw lightly.

‘I can’t believe that this is the roommate I’ve gotten. It’s unbelievable, the way he’s acting!’, Jongwoo ranted. He was out of breath yet again, and slightly embarrassed at the fact that he wasn’t more overpowering. Surely Jaeho wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he ever got wind of the fact that he was terrified of his roommate.

So, in a sudden moment of courage, Jongwoo pushed the other guy as hard as he could, actually managing to catch Moonjo off guard and having him stagger back. Jongwoo stood up, trying to make himself appear confident, despite the shivers running down his back.

“I am going to go to the bathroom, and when I come out, I want to work in peace!”, he exclaimed, looking down at the other. “So don’t you dare even look at me”, he spat out.

Not even sparing the other another glance, Jongwoo marched to the bathroom. ‘God, I feel like such an angry kid…’, he laughed at himself. Even looking at the mirror, he was clearing not feeling great. There weren’t any dark circles under his eyes, but his pale complexion and glassy eyes and red spots said everything that needed to be said.

He washed his face, hoping to get off the feel of Moonjo’s hand against his jaw and wash away the tiredness of his facial features. Jongwoo braced himself on the bathroom sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

‘Okay, you’re going to go out again and work on your assignments. Moonjo might be annoying, but he seems responsible enough to know that schoolwork is important’, he prep-talked himself.

One more time, he dipped his face in cold water and fixed his hair for good measure. Looking presentable and more composed than before, Jongwoo unlocked the door and beelined to his desk, not even sparing Moonjo’s side of the room a glance.

Putting in his headphones and taking out his laptop, he started working immediately. Thankfully Moonjo was as responsible in this respect as Jongwoo thought because he didn’t even talk to the other once.

His headphones blasted classical music, a great studying tip that he picked up from Jieun due to her persistently recommending it to him. The silence was relaxing and in contrast to his expectations Jongwoo managed to finish about a third of his preparation work in the span of a couple of hours.

Jongwoo stretched languidly, feeling like he finally possessed enough mental stability to face Moonjo again. It was almost 8pm, and Jongwoo was hungry yet again, this time for an actual meal instead of pseudo-human meat or another cup of coffee.

So, he turned around to find his roommate reading through some medical textbooks, sitting on his bed.

“Ya, Moonjo, do you want to get food again?”, he asked. Even if he’ll go out for dinner anyways, he might as well ask Moonjo if he wanted to come along. The other looked up, almost surprised that Jongwoo even talked to him. Still, he didn’t need long to think about the offer presented. And so the two of them went off campus to find somewhere to eat.

And to Jongwoo’s delight, Moonjo paid for everything yet again.

---

The pair returned about an hour later, and exhaustion had Jongwoo steady in its grip. Slipping through the door, he went to the bathroom to change into his pajama, not really wanting to change in front of his roommate.

“I’ll go to bed now, I’m pretty tired. So please don’t be too loud”, he mumbled to Moonjo as he returned to his bed.

Moonjo hummed softly. “Sleep well, jagi”, the other mumbled, barely loud enough for Jongwoo to hear it. He was sitting on his bed as well, looking through what seemed to be papers for his classes. He turned off the big light illuminating the entire room in favor of turning on the lamp on his bedside table, throwing the room in a soft yellow lightning.

Jongwoo turned to face the wall, but despite his tiredness he felt like Moonjo’s stare didn’t leave him.

‘I’m probably just imagining things... Let’s just sleep’, he thought to himself, willing away the eerie feeling. He fisted his blanket tighter, burrowing into the warmth of his bed. After that, sleep came easily even if he still felt Moonjo’s black eyes on him.

Like what happened usually whenever he was away from home, his dreams drifted towards his home back in Busan. Due to his mother being alone, money was tight, and after a while they had to move to a cheaper part of town to save some money, when she suddenly fell ill. The apartment complex was something out of Jongwoo’s nightmares.

Walls painted a dreary grey, there was mold showing in places and the elevators usually didn’t work. But his mother decided on the place because despite everything, the heating worked splendidly, they had a lot of water, and there was moderately functioning wifi. And finally, the rent was much cheaper than their previous place.

As Jongwoo had to take care of his brother, he was usually at home. This dream wasn’t any different. He was sitting on their couch, the sky outside the window dark grey and alluding to a storm. Jongwoo’s brother had retired to his room, saying he was tired and wanted to sleep.

So Jongwoo continued staring out the window, somehow unable to focus on anything else. Until, he heard a faint giggling.

He recognized the sound. Jongwoo gritted his teeth. The giggling was now accompanied by a low thumping sound against the wall that divided their apartment from the neighboring one.

Jongwoo got up to return the favor, thumping against the wall as well. This sound however felt hollow. And from the other side, he could hear the giggle turning into full-on laughter. He knew his neighbors, and they often terrified him. The pair were twins, one of them mentally disabled, but both were equally as creepy.

But before Jongwoo could continue thumping on the wall, he heard his name being called from the kitchen. Weirdly enough, who was calling him was … Jaeho?

Jongwoo stumbled towards the sound, looking at the window for a split second and blinking at the complete darkness that greeted him. ‘The storm wasn’t this close before…’, he wondered, and then jumped as a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and the electricity in the apartment went out.

Now it was completely dark, and Jongwoo had troubles finding his way. The giggling didn’t stop. Neither did the thumping noise. And Jaeho kept calling him.

His feet were like cement blocks, and it took Jongwoo an awful lot of time to move even a little. To his horror, the walls seemed like they were swirling, morphing into the backdrop of a neighborhood on their way to school.

The giggling became so much louder, now feeling like laughter coming from a mass of people. Right in front of him, there was Jaeho, laughing at a figure lying on the ground. There were blank-faced dark shadows surrounding the two, and only as he got closer did Jongwoo realize who was lying on the ground.

It was himself. He felt tears of both anger and embarrassment swell up in his eyes as he remembered the scene. He had been 16 years old – it was after he had confessed to Jieun who had carefully turned him down – and as if that wasn’t embarrassing enough for young Jongwoo, Jaeho got wind of it.

That was their first fight. Jaeho humiliated him in the school’s courtyard, and the two ended up beating each other bloody, but as Jaeho was so much more popular, Jongwoo never stood a chance.

And here he was, laughter surrounding him, the dark shadows flying into the sky as if trying to swallow him whole. Jongwoo wanted to scream. Why was it always him? Why did Jaeho always act like he was superior to him?

He sunk to his knees, and suddenly the Jaeho in his dreams turned away from the other Jongwoo to look straight at him, still looking smug and arrogant as always. Jaeho walked towards him, becoming one with the shadowy wall. Jongwoo felt like he was suffocating. He recognized it was just a nightmare, but he couldn’t breathe.

It was just too much. Too loud. Too dark. Too small.

And so, with a scream that had him gasping for air, he woke up.

The tears were already streaming down his cheeks, burning hot, and in his scared daze he didn’t perceive Moonjo – who had been woken up startled by the other’s screaming and tossing – at his side. The taller boy was rubbing circles on his back, but he soon saw that Jongwoo could barely concentrate on breathing properly.

“Jagiya, everything is okay. It was just a nightmare”, he spoke, voice steady but soft. “You’re safe, I promise. You’re safe now.”

Jongwoo’s head whipped to the side, eyes big and teary, looking at the boy next to him. Only now did he comprehend fully what was happening. He might find Moonjo incredibly creepy and tend to avoid him, but this was a moment of weakness in which his instincts were seeking comfort. And despite everything Moonjo was warm and solid.

The other smiled at him as Jongwoo’s expression was becoming less hysterical, but this one was soft. In that moment, whatever was left of Jongwoo’s energy evaporated into nothingness, and he fell forwards into Moonjo’s embrace.

While the other stopped in his movements for a second – after all Jongwoo had been avoiding him to his best abilities – but soon resumed the circle-rubbing on his back.

Jongwoo’s head burrowed himself into Moonjo’s neck, arms wrapping tightly around the other’s upper body. “I-I’m sorry… Just let me stay like this a little”, his voice croaked. And Moonjo let him.

Chapter Text

So, his being insecure, he’d turned to sleeping until the time Moonjo would usually take a shower, run out to campus as fast as possible and return in the late evening. The time between classes, Jongwoo spent almost entirely in the library, either studying or reading novels.

Today was no different – his Friday morning started early and has been nearly packed with classes. But for once Jongwoo did not mind the busy schedule in the slightest. In fact, he had managed to finish the entirety of his prep work, a feat he was quite proud of.

The only aspect of this new one-sided arrangement that bothered him, is that he dragged along a bothersome tiredness – he could only sleep for so long in his dorm room bed, and five hours of sleep were not enough.

However, his mood did get a little pick-me-up by the time his long awaited creative writing class rolled around. While he appreciated all parts of his major, even the boring theoretical stuff, being allowed creative liberty in his writing was what truly made him passionate about the subject.

The class was going great, until his teacher assigned them a project at the end of the two hour period.

“Alright, so for your first assignment – and because shared projects are necessary in this class– I want you to write a short story on the prompt of new beginnings. But you have to make me surprised, so do not be afraid to do something far out of the ordinary!”, she instructed. Her hand reached for her laptop, and she began reading the names for the group project out loud.

With his name, she paired a certain Kang Seokyoon.

Jongwoo looked around to see if anybody else was looking for their partner and found a doe-eyed brunet boy looking equally as confused as him, sitting two rows in front of him.

As the two met eyes, the other boy pointed first at himself then at Jongwoo. The later nodded, to which the other boy – who Jongwoo now presumed was Kang Seokyoon – grinned excitedly at him, waving Jongwoo to his seat.

‘Like a puppy’, Jongwoo found himself grinning, moving to reach Seokyoon.

“Okay so we’ll be partners for the project? When do you want to meet up to work out the overall idea?”, Seokyoon asked, immediately taking initiative.

Jongwoo smiled again, this time relieved. He definitely had a good feeling about this, and Seokyoon seemed as ambitious as he was to do a good job.

“Uhh.. let’s see. I don’t know if that’s too much of a short notice, but does tomorrow work?”, Jongwoo offered. Surprisingly, Seokyoon seemed to be good with that date as well.

“Okay, so you’ll come by my dorm at 11 am? I live in building B, room 213”, Seokyoon continued, before taking out his phone hastily. “Oh – and let’s exchange numbers! Here, give me yours”, he said, giving Jongwoo his phone.

“And I’ve been meaning to ask, how old are you?”, Seokyoon continued to blabber. He was like a waterfall, words just tumbling down on Jongwoo who couldn’t help but smile at the other.

“I’m 19 – born on the 30th of September”, he answered.

At that Seokyoon smiled and tried to bow slightly despite the lack of space he had while sitting down. “So, hyung, you’re my senior? I’m 18”, Seokyoon said.

But the silence after that didn’t last long, as the younger boy continued his questioning – not like Jongwoo minded.

“So, what made you take this class?”

“Ah, it’s for my English major. And I really love being able to write without too many restrictions. It’s a great way to relieve stress, you know, just letting the words flow onto the page”, Jongwoo answered, surprised about the sudden poetic answer. “And you?”

“I’m majoring in music, and creative writing is good to practice for song writing, so I took it. My schedule is otherwise quite okay, so I don’t mind the extra class”, Seokyoon explained.

“But you’re right, writing like this is really soothing!”

Jongwoo smiled at the other, a sense of fondness creeping up in him. Seokyoon seemed a lot like him in some respects, but different, nonetheless.

Jongwoo might have Junghwa and Jieun, but the two of them were both very busy, and between the insane paradox that is Moonjo and the narcissistic macho of Jaeho, Seokyoon finally felt like a source of ordinary – of comfort. He only cringed slightly at the way this string of thought made him sound, but more than anything Jongwoo was happy, giddy even.

Nevertheless, Seokyoon and him continued talking to each other until well after the class ended – and that’s how Jongwoo ended up walking the younger boy to his dormitory building.

“Oh, well, looks like we’re here already. Are you sure you don’t wanna start today?”, Seokyoon asked, already halfway up the stairs to the entrance. But Jongwoo only shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Until tomorrow then”, he said – and like that they parted ways again.

Jongwoo, finally feeling on par with the sunny weather, found his way to the nearby park, deciding to enjoy the sunshine and perhaps go on a jog.

Not that he’d ever actually confess it, but Moonjo’s physique bore a lot more muscle than Jongwoo’s body. And while it made him a little insecure as he realized this fact, Jongwoo knew that he just never had the time to exercise regularly back in Busan. So, might as well get to it now, no?

He didn’t bother putting on a pair of jeans in the morning, so his attire was exercise-appropriate. Putting his earphones in and turning on music, Jongwoo started jogging along the path going through the park.

The park’s greenery looked radiant in the sunshine, with a slight breeze making the higher temperatures endurable. And Jongwoo has no issues with his jogging, if anything the activity makes him feel quite accomplished – aside from the occasional laboured breathing, but even that diminished as he committed to a comfortable pace.

At this moment, he felt like how his younger self had imagined he’d feel in university. Making friends, relaxing and having time for himself and going to parties – well, the later was less exciting due to the host being Jaeho, but he intended going, nevertheless.

‘Apropos the party, maybe I should tell Moonjo about it? Even if I don’t like him and truth be told he does not seem like the type to enjoy stuff like that, it’s always better to ask…’, he pondered.

After another hour of staying in the park, enjoying the sunshine while he was at it, Jongwoo moved to return to campus again.

“Ah! Jongwoo, how are you?”, he heard a familiar voice in his periphery. Jongwoo whipped around to find Junghwa running up to him. She had faintly noticeable spots under her eyes, and though she masked her slumped posture with a bright smile, Junghwa definitely seemed off balance.

“Oh, noona. I didn’t think I’d run into you”, he smiled. “I’m great actually, the sun is really helping my mood! Everything okay with you, you look a little tired.”

At Jongwoo’s comment, she dragged her arms around his shoulders, whining in a joking manner. “You’re absolutely right. I haven’t gotten much sleep last night, because of-“, Junghwa made a more than obvious pause in her explanation, like she realized something that she shouldn’t have mentioned. “Uh because of Jieun. She’s been up all night studying, and you know how she is, she needs to read everything aloud!”

Jongwoo swallowed the interest he had at knowing what Junghwa originally intended to say – however there must have been a proper reason, so he won’t pry. And frankly, he didn’t think it was his business, they weren’t that close. Chances were, she was kept up by somebody, considering her flustered face.

“Anyways, speaking of roommates – have you made up with him yet?”, Junghwa continued quickly.

‘There it is again’, the thoughts about Moonjo knocked on the metaphorical door to Jongwoo’s brain, before promptly crashing in without permission. He sighed deeply, his gaze now in front of him. The two were walking together towards the dormitory buildings.

“Honestly, we haven’t talked. In fact, I’ve been somewhat ignoring him”, he confessed, scratching the back of his neck somewhat embarrassed.

Junghwa flicked his forehead at that. “Ya, don’t you think you’re a little childish? He’s your roommate – you either make up or ask administration for another roommate”, she said, the charm of her sternness he’d known since high school coming back to her.

But Jongwoo just swirled around.

“No, Junghwa noona you don’t get it! He’s creepy, I don’t even know how to describe it!”, he groaned, leaning against one of the trees. Junghwa came to a stop next to him, looking at him suspiciously.

“You know, you said you’ve never talked to him. Maybe that’s the problem – communication!”, she gestures grandly, nearly making Jongwoo laughing. It was absurd – in his mind at least, but maybe that was because he loved to overexaggerate, and he’d always had a flair for the dramatic.

Nevertheless, his friend had a point. But no matter what Moonjo did, Jongwoo couldn’t shake off the odd feeling. He often catches him staring at him, the hint of his typical grin faded on his lips; and he’s had to find out the hard way that Moonjo absolutely does not comprehend the concept of personal space.

“Okay okay!”, Jongwoo responded after a while. “I’ll go back up and talk to him, are you happy?”

Junghwa grinned, a hint of mischief evident. “Very. Then, goodbye Jongwoo”, she spoke, leaving him at the tree to collect his thoughts as she marched towards her dormitory.

‘I suppose I should just do what I said…’, Jongwoo dragged a hand through his hair anxiously. One last chance, before his patience’ll snap for good.

The incident was quite comical, and maybe the fact that it happened the morning after Jongwoo woke up from a nightmare, finding himself clutching onto Moonjo to ground his mind again, made it so much worse.

Jongwoo had decided to shower that morning, the stench of sweat still clinging to him from the previous night, and he had been halfway through washing his hair, when the door suddenly opened.

Jongwoo wasn’t wearing any clothes – a perfectly normal thing to do considering he was taking a shower, and he could have sworn he locked the door. But in retrospect his brain had been in shambles, and Jongwoo was glad he even managed to get out of bed in time for classes.

Despite the predicament, Moonjo was suddenly walking into the bathroom. Jongwoo nearly slipped on the wet floor of the shower stall, and even still, Moonjo didn’t think to consider that he shouldn’t walk into the bathroom while another person was using it.

In fact, he grinned at Jongwoo through the fogged up mirror and just walked to the cabinet to pick up a box of what looked like skincare products.

“Don’t worry jagi, I won’t look. Although I’d love to in retaliation for you staring at me last time”, he joked.

And before Jongwoo could compose himself and throw a maelstrom of insults at the other guy, he was already out the door again. This was when he got especially insecure about his physique in comparison to Moonjo’s.

---
By the time Jongwoo had reached his dorm, his nerves were frayed once again; but he made sure to heed what Junghwa told him. Maybe communication really was the issue, and Jongwoo was being too harsh.

Alas, he swung open the door.

Moonjo, as always, was sitting on his bed, legs crossed with textbooks and stationary items strown around. At the sound of someone entering the room, he looked up, only to have a soft grin return to his face at seeing Jongwoo.

“You’re back early today. How was your day?”, he asked, setting his supplies down and patting the spot on his bed next to him. Jongwoo however opted to sit on his own bed – as the space between the two made it much harder for Moonjo to initiate unwanted physical contact.

“Ah, yeah, I don’t have a lot of work today. It was a great day though”, he said, sensing the awkward tension in the room. “And yours?”

Moonjo changed his position, so that his back pressed against the wall, he was facing Jongwoo. “Same as you, but I’ve been meaning to do grocery shopping. We have barely anything at home, should we go together?”, he offered.

Jongwoo, seeing the opportunity to patch their friendship up without a direct talk about their feelings, jumped at the notion.

“Sure, I mean it’ll benefit us both, no?”, he laughed – as earnest as he could.

So, the two soon found themselves walking through the aisles of the nearest supermarket. Moonjo being organized and refusing to let Jongwoo either spend money on eating out or eating instant food, came prepared with a list of groceries they needed.

Something about seeing the other guy in the cold light of the supermarket, looking through mountains of fruit and vegetables, picking out a vast arrangement of tea and coffee, made Jongwoo’s insides ache.

‘Why does he still care for me despite me ignoring and trampling all over him?’, now Jongwoo was just confused. Was there an alternative motive? Did Moonjo gain anything out of this?

When they’d passed the meat section, Moonjo shot Jongwoo a grin, the same grin the later swore he saw while they were eating the librarian’s weird concoction. Jongwoo shuddered a little.

“I’m actually not in the mood for meat, and you, jagi?”, the other said, while flipping through the packaged beef and pork. Jongwoo just grabbed the shopping cart from the taller boy’s hands, and pushed it forwards, entering the dairy aisle.

“Me neither”, he answered. So now it was Moonjo’s turn to saunter after him, as the Jongwoo searched the rows for some no-brand yoghurt that they could afford. In the end he settled on Greek yoghurt, he’d heard it tastes good with fruit and cereal.

As he was about to continue, Jongwoo looked around, missing the looming stature of a certain person.

‘Wasn’t he just next to me moments ago? You’d think he’s impossible to lose, giving his height…’, he mused, looking around the aisle. Though the search wasn’t long, as Moonjo walked back into Jongwoo’s line of sight – a pint of ice cream in his hands.

At that Jongwoo couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “I didn’t take you for the type to eat sweets”, he said, amused at the picture of Moonjo in his all-black ensemble, a bubblegum pink container of ice cream in his hands.

The other just hummed nonchalantly, placing the ice cream into the cart, and swiftly taking the lead in their shopping trip again.

“Ah, I have sensitive teeth. But you seemed like you’d like it”, he answered, turning his head around to smile at Jongwoo.

“And what makes you think that?”, Jongwoo asked, both intrigued at his observation – it was correct – and annoyed that he was apparently so easy to read.

“Mhh nothing much, just a hunch”, the other mused – now stopping in front of a row of rice and pasta. “Plus, with your bitterness the sweet tooth would make a fitting match”, another grin of his.

Jongwoo huffed, though his cheeks reddened slightly at the other’s teasing. So instead of keeping eye contact with Moonjo any longer, he reached for the grocery list to get whatever they needed from this aisle.

But he found himself in another predicament – the rice Moonjo had written down, a brand which Jongwoo surprisingly also liked best – was nearly at the top of the shelves. Jongwoo tried to stand on the tip of his toes, but his hands couldn’t quite reach the packet in question.

‘I just keep embarrassing myself in front of him, huh?’, he sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Can you-“, he tried turning around to ask for the other’s help – but before even finishing the question he already felt Moonjo standing behind him. Again, the lack of awareness of his own personal space didn’t surprise Jongwoo - but the hand weirdly placed on his side did.

With an embarrassed squeak, Jongwoo rushed to the side and ducked under Moonjo’s arm. The other reached out and didn’t even need to stretch to grasp the rice; the couple of centimeters of height he had on Jongwoo truly showing.

“Ah jagiya, thankfully I’m here with you, no?”, he whispered calmy, as if he didn’t just almost back-hug Jongwoo. The later huffed, returning to their cart and finally pushing it towards the cashier.

“As if! And could you please stop getting so close?”, he muttered – not missing the amused chuckle coming from Moonjo at that.

The other swerved in front of Jongwoo to reach the cashier – wallet already in his hands. “Terribly sorry, it’s just a habit of mine”, he answered, though Jongwoo could see he was lying through his teeth. Jongwoo just glared at the other, although it wasn’t as harsh as before. Maybe he was warming up to him – teasing and clinginess aside?

---

An hour later, and much to Jongwoo’s surprise, Moonjo had suggested they watch a Korean crime movie he’d heard a lot of good things about. And who was Jongwoo to deny an offer like that?

What he did not expect however, was sitting on Moonjo’s bed together with the other – as his side of the room had a cleaner wall for them to use for the projector.

‘It’s not like Moonjo could just use the laptop, no we need a projector to throw across the room’, Jongwoo muttered to himself, reluctantly enjoying the comfortable pillows Moonjo had offered him. He still kept a grand distance between them.

And like the cherry on top, Moonjo even took out the ice cream pint with – after Jongwoo complained about not wanting to share a spoon with him – two spoons.

“What’s the movie about anyways?”, Jongwoo asked as Moonjo set up the projector. He took a spoon full of the ice cream, humming in satisfaction at the flavor – somewhere in between sweet strawberry and salty caramel.

Moonjo returned to the bed, a little closer than Jongwoo intended. ‘He thinks he’s sly, huh?’, Jongwoo eyed him suspiciously, not moving away in favor of not falling off the bed.

“It’s vaguely fantastical – a girl in 2019 moves into a house that connects her to another girl in 1999 through the phone line”, he explained, comfortably seated against the wall. “She helps her, but the girl from 1999 turns out to become a serial killer, threatening her.”

“Hmm.. that’s interesting… so even if the 2019 girl knows what’s happening, she can’t change anything?”, Jongwoo asked, moving the pint over to Moonjo who tasted it as well – grimacing at the sweetness.

“That must be horrific. Being utterly powerless, and not having the evidence to do anything, but knowing what will happen”, Moonjo continued.

Jongwoo hummed, feeling like Moonjo’s observation seemed weirdly personal to him.

As the movie carried on, their conversation became much more enigmatic – lines between them observing the movie and their own personal conflicts blurring – at least that’s what Jongwoo felt like.

Like the breaking of barriers on an interpersonal level, Jongwoo found himself scooting over to the other – slowly but steadily.

“It’s interesting, no”, Moonjo said towards the climax of the movie, the soft yet deep tone of his voice making Jongwoo turn to look at him. “The 1999 girl could have killed her at numerous incidents. But she doesn’t. Instead, she kills the people the 2019 girl loves the most – knowing that the other cannot do anything to stop her. She knows how to torture her psyche and forces her to aid her escaping the police.”

Jongwoo looks at the other, and in the lightning of the movie, he could only vaguely observe the shape of Moonjo’s side profile. But despite the odd vulnerability that lingered in the air, he was still impossible to read.

‘Is he trying to tell me something?’, Jongwoo wondered, slowly turning back to the movie.

With another scoop of ice cream, he mustered up the courage to finally land on the much dreaded conversation Junghwa had scolded him for putting off.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. That was immature”, he mumbled.

Moonjo hummed, as if not hearing him completely, turning to look at Jongwoo. They made eye-contact.

“I said I’m sorry. We might have started off on the wrong foot…”, he sighed. “You were just a bit creepy at first, and I stuck with that impression. So sorry for ignoring you, you’re actually quite alright.”

Jongwoo still kept the eye-contact with the other, not missing the fond smile in the low light of the room.

“But please stop invading my personal space”, Jongwoo finished, looking away again to hide his apprehension.

“Will do, jagiya. And there’s no need to apologise, but I appreciate it”, the other spoke. And in that comfortable silence, Jongwoo genuinely felt glad.

‘Let’s just hope he keeps the promise’, he mused as the movie concluded.

Chapter Text

Saturday, Jongwoo was met with a pleasant silence throughout the dorm room. Moonjo was nowhere to be seen, as Jongwoo had woken up well into noon. At a comfortable pace, he took a shower, before going to Seokyoon’s dorm room as they had previously agreed to do.

Seokyoon and him, unlike with Moonjo, got along splendidly – from their first time meeting each other, there was just a warm atmosphere to their conversation. And this presumption wasn’t destroyed this time around either, Jongwoo found.

“Ah, hyung! Good morning”, the other boy grinned upon the door opening. Even though Jongwoo just woke up, Seokyoon looked like he’d rather have slept for another hour or so. Hair ruffled and probably still in his pajamas.

Jongwoo smiled at him as well, shuffling through the door to sit down on the Seokyoon’s chair, while the other planted himself on his bed. The desk bore two water glasses – complete with a small puddle of water surrounding them, indicating the hurry they’ve been poured in -, and a mount of pens.

“So, have you been able to think about the assignment?”, Jongwoo asked, spinning around in his friend’s chair. He himself hadn’t thought much about the project, although he had some ideas that could be modifiable into something their professor deemed surprising enough.

Seokyoon reached over to his desk, pulling out a handful of sticky notes with scrabbled ideas on them.

“In fact, I did!”, he grinned – giving the sticky notes to Jongwoo. “New beginnings can be a lot of things, right? I thought, maybe we can write about the new beginning after an abusive relationship, or toxic friendship? Or maybe the lunar cycle, although both ideas are a little lame”, he sighed.

“They’re not bad, but our professor did say she wanted to be surprised…”, Jongwoo mused, looking through the sticky notes.

“Or maybe we can write about new interpretations of movies or books? Maybe incorporate the idea that these interpretations into more modern contexts make the audience relate more?”, Jongwoo continued.

Seokyoon hummed, tipping away at his laptop. “Sure, yeah. That would definitely be surprising, right?”, he said. “Or, in a different sense, maybe we can write about dystopic and utopic movie narratives?”

Jongwoo spun around to face the other again, now also taking his laptop out. “That’s much better actually! Do you want to split the workload, as in I write about dystopias and you about utopias or should we just both write and compile everything later?”, he asked, taking a sip from the water.

“I don’t mind working on the entire thing and then compiling it into one document”, he responded, before flailing his hands in the air again as if he’d had another great idea. “Or I’ll just set up a shared document? What’s your email address?”, he continued, turning the laptop screen around to face Jongwoo.

The other added his address, and after another while, the two were simply gushing over movies and novels, before Seokyoon had the idea of treating his hyung to some coffee.

Jongwoo agreed happily, standing up from his seat, which gave him a nice view out the window, as the younger boy ran across the dorm to get his wallet. And in that fleeting moment, Jongwoo could glimpse a figure dressed in long-sleeved dark clothes standing outside the window, looking up at it.

He stilled, confused and perhaps a little agitated.

‘Is that…? It can’t be no, he doesn’t even know that I went to Seokyoon’, he wondered.

Though before Jongwoo could take a closer look at the figure, Seokyoon already yelled for him, standing at the door.

“Come on, hyung! I know a nice coffee shop not far from here”, he smiled. So, Jongwoo just nodded, and reluctantly ripped his gaze away from the window, before joining the other boy in the hallway.

---

Shortly past 3pm, Jongwoo made his way back home from the impromptu coffee-run-turned-late-lunch with Seokyoon, stomach filled pleasantly. However, the closer he got to the apartment, the more the thoughts about whether or not Moonjo had followed him, returned.

‘He even promised to cut down on the creepiness, and there he goes again’, Jongwoo rolled his eyes. He was suspicious about the other’s genuineness; however, he didn’t think the promise would be broken not even a day after.

 As he walked through the door, Moonjo was sitting cross-legged on the floor, books spread around him – and to Jongwoo’s not-really-surprise, he wore the same clothes as the figure under Seokyoon’s window. Jongwoo grimaced at that – as if he’d be so brass to not even change clothes after Jongwoo had clearly seen him.

Nevertheless, Jongwoo walked towards the other, sitting on his own bed, and glancing at the other’s studying supplies.

“You’re back, I’ve been wondering where you went”, Moonjo greeted him, looking up slightly at Jongwoo. Stiffling a laugh, Jongwoo returned the gaze, looking into Moonjo’s captivating black eyes.

“Ah, did you now?”, Jongwoo mused, keeping the eye-contact.

“Well, I went to the library early morning, and when I came back you were already gone”, the other just answered, also not breaking the stare between them.

“Really? I actually think I saw you on my way”, Jongwoo continued, doing his best to sound normal.

But Moonjo just cocked his head to the side, hair moving like a wave across his face. “I’d remember if I saw you. Is everything alright, jagi?”, he asked.

‘Lying straight through his teeth, and not even a trace of guilt’, Jongwoo pondered about toying a little more, though bluntness had always been his forte.

So, in the blink of an eye, he reached over to grasp at Moonjo’s shirt, forcing him to look straight at him. “Stop lying, I saw you standing under Seokyoon’s window!”, he snarled, though the action only gave him a lazy grin on Moonjo’s part.

In fact, the other reached up to grab Jongwoo’s hand at his collar, holding it steady. “I don’t even know who you are talking about”, he smiled, a row of perfectly clean teeth showing, irritating Jongwoo even more.

“That’s beside the point – you followed me there!”, Jongwoo raised his voice. But he wasn’t in the mood to pick another fight with his insufferable roommate – alas he let the other go.

Moonjo leaned back against his bed frame, looking at Jongwoo. “Don’t you think you’re overexaggerating? I also have friends around campus, you know?”

His smile made Jongwoo ache to punch him. Maybe hard enough to draw blood, or just to paint the pale skin shades of purple.

However, he had other plans for tonight – a party was a party nonetheless, even if it was Jaeho’s. It was an opportunity to see Jieun again, maybe get a little drunk, and have a nice time to take his mind off things.

So, Jongwoo gave Moonjo the silent treatment for the next few hours. Naturally, he didn’t realize the other’s gaze was nearly permanently on him; a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes.

---

At half past 8pm, the sky already darkening, Jongwoo was standing in front of Jaeho’s door. Through the windows, he could see the party was already in full bloom – music blasting loud enough for him to hear outside the building.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, overthinking his decisions at the last minute. Nothing about his clothes was out of the ordinary, but he’d made sure to wear a muted green shirt – Jieun had once told him the colour looked good on him. Truth be told, Jongwoo was just anxious about the prospect of parties – never being one to enjoy crowded social gatherings, especially not with drunk people in every corner.

The door opened, and Jaeho, accompanied by Junghwa and Jieun peaked out. “Ah, Jongwoo! You’re right on time”, Jaeho mused, ushering him inside. Jongwoo hummed, greeting them, before starring at the interior in a feeling that wasn’t quite jealousy but close to it.

Jaeho was well-off, he knew that, but a grand house in the middle of Seoul, was still impressive, he almost felt sorry for his friend, as he knew university parties could get quite  rowdy. But, then again, Jaeho probably had employees who were hired to clean up anyways.

As he worked to tear his eyes from his surroundings, Junghwa approached him with a can of beer in hand.

“So, is this your first party?”, she said, coming closer to avoid yelling over the loud music. Jongwoo nodded in favor of answering, downing a big gulp of beer. One thing was sure, he’d not go through this ordeal sober.

Junghwa linked their arms, dragging the younger through some rooms, talking to people and drinking with them – kindly including Jongwoo in her social activities, only to reach the backyard terrasse after what felt like an eternity. Though it was probably just hour, maybe a little more. For the most part, she dragged Jongwoo out here to escape a game of truth or dare that she was asked to join. On the terrasse, she plopped into a garden chair, tapping on the other one to signal Jongwoo to do the same.

“God okay, I don’t want to act like a wise old woman because I’ve been to more parties,”, Junghwa began, taking a sip of her drink, “but be careful. I know you’re a guy, and you can hold your alcohol, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. And don’t let your emotions get the best of you – especially when you’re drunk”, she mused, throwing Jongwoo a friendly smile. And for a second, she had an apologetic look in her eyes, though Jongwoo couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Ah, noona, is everything alright?”, he asked, anxiety bubbling up more than ever in his throat.

Junghwa sighed, before leaning forward, and looking around them to spot any unwanted listeners. Jongwoo did the same. There was no one, safe for a couple of drunk people giggling and – probably , or hopefully – kissing behind the tree in Jaeho’s garden. And another group of people were sitting at the pool, still out of range to listen in on their conversation.

Still, Junghwa beckoned for Jongwoo to lean closer.

“Alright, please don’t freak out…”, she started. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but… I just didn’t want you to be sad. You seemed a little stressed out anyways.”

“Noona, just – what are you talking about?”, Jongwoo asked, now feeling both anxiety and a hint of anger trying to boil up inside of him.

Junghwa nodded, and then – leaning even closer: “I overheard Jieun talking to someone on the phone the other day, and then she went out for some hours. But, when she returned, I clearly heard Jaeho accompanying her to our door, and-“, she paused for a second, “it was sort of clear that they did you know… they probably slept together.”

Jongwoo choked on his breath at that.

‘Jieun wouldn’t actually go out with Jaeho would she?’, he thought to himself, but frankly, he knew that all the signs pointed towards them being together.

Still, he wanted to ask her and find it out first-hand. He downed the can of beer in one go, and thanked Junghwa.

“That’s… thank you for telling me, but I will ask her myself”, Junghwa’s brows knit together in a look of sympathy, “Do you know where she is?”

Junghwa nodded, pointing him up the stairs. “Jieun’s probably somewhere on the first floor”, her voice was placid, and Jongwoo didn’t waste anymore time, near sprinting to the stairs.

‘Why is it always Jaeho who got what he wanted? He knew about my crush on Jieun, and he’s always been flirting with her’, his thoughts were honest to god a mess. He was one of Jieun’s closest friends, so he definitely could ask her about this, but the pain of finding the truth, Jongwoo wasn’t sure he could bear.

Finally, up the stairs, he could only frown at the myriad of people in the hallway – but even through the amalgamation of sounds, he could hear Jieun’s laughter in one of the rooms.

Though maybe, he shouldn’t have opened the door quite so rapid. Jongwoo was tipsy, and prone to bad decisions even in his sober state. And at the sight before him – Jaeho, shirtless,  clearly sitting on top of Jieun, one hand up her shirt and the other cupping her face as they seemingly made out – his body wanted to eject all that he had eaten and drunken.

He felt sick. He wanted to yell at them, but was he even allowed to? Jieun was just his best friend, not his girlfriend.

And they didn’t even notice him, possibly too drunk and lost in each other to notice anything around them.

Jongwoo slammed the door close, nearly running over Junghwa who had caught up to him. He felt the tears streaming down his cheeks before he could register his crying. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”, he cried at the other.

“Jongwoo, I’m sorry, but I didn’t-“, she tried to grab his shirt, but Jongwoo ripped her hands off, looking to get more alcohol into his system to avoid the ache in his heart.

“No! You should’ve told me!”, he whipped around one last time, before stomping downwards into the kitchen.

‘I’ll worry about the consequences later’, he reassured himself as he downed another beer can, a third, fourth and fifth one following nearly immediately. He could hold his liquor, he’d be fine. He just needed something to fill the spot in his mind currently occupied by the image of Jaeho and Jieun making out, and whatever would follow suit.

His feet found their way to a chair somewhere in the dining room. Jongwoo could already feel his vision tether at the edge; and the sway in his walk was probably noticeable as well.

“Wooww, you look like you’ve had a rough time”, some girl lulled from his left side. He looked over at her – he didn’t recognize her face, but that wasn’t indicative  of much, considering his state of mind.

“Ah, yeah. Just, rough day, and you?”, he responded, words also slurred slightly.

The girl giggled, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “I’m happy as could be!”, she grinned, a plastic cup with some sort of alcohol swishing around in it in her hand. The girl’s face was too close for comfort to Jongwoo, and he could smell her breath, reeking of alcohol – though he was probably no different.

She closed her eyes for a little, before dragging her manicured finger up Jongwoo’s chest, poking him gently. “You know what?”, she leaned backwards to empty her plastic cup, before leaning in even more. “How about , you and me-“, she circled her finger from Jongwoo to herself, “go somewhere and have some funn”,  another giggle.

But even if sleeping with another person would be a fitting remedy for his aching, he didn’t want to do that with a random girl, a clearly wasted girl at that. So he shook his head, trying to clear his head, and stand solidly on his feet again.

“No, really, I’m fine”, he answered, trying to shove the girl off him, but in a display of surprising strength, the girl pushed him down again.

“Aww, come on~”, she threw one leg over his thighs, now straddling Jongwoo. “You’re clleeaary upset”, she mused.

“No, I said I’m fine”, he raised his voice, and simply shoved her off of him, in spite of the drunk girl landing not so gently on the floor.

He’d had enough of the party. Enough of Jaeho, enough of Jieun, enough of Junghwa.

As he wobbled back to the entrance, Jongwoo downed another can of beer – he was already drunk, what damage could one or two more do? But his way out the door was promptly stopped by a pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around him.

He hiccuped at the sudden force and turned around in a flash to yell at the stranger. “Hey! I just told you I-!”

It was Moonjo. Moonjo, standing behind him – looking down at him amusedly, and suddenly the embrace felt more welcoming as opposed to perilous. His friends acted like they wore a mask, and whenever the truth came up, the mask shattered – Moonjo had never worn a mask, he’d always acted truthfully. Even if his truth felt weird at first.

Jongwoo tried his hardest to keep a steady gaze at the other, though his head kept falling downwards. “What are you doing here?”, he hissed - voice strained from the alcohol he drank.

Moonjo just smiled wider, starting to walk the pair out the door. “Obviously I’m taking you home. You’ve drunken way too much, jagi”, he whispered, and despite the loudness Jongwoo could hear him crystal clear. The nickname was overheard – or he really didn’t care about it any longer. He didn’t even trash against the looming presence at his back, guiding him out the door.

In his mind, he was just too tired. And fresh air was really something he craved, or maybe Jongwoo just needed to get out of the stuffy confines of Jaeho’s house.

And honestly, he wasn’t sure if this Moonjo was real or just a product of his drunk and betrayed mind. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d hallucinated.

The next half an hour passed in a blur. Jongwoo registered a taxi, that Moonjo called, taking him and the other back to campus. His vision cleared again as they stood in front of their dorm room.

Once inside the dorm, Jongwoo turned around to face the taller boy. Moonjo bend down ever so slightly, to gently cradle the other’s head in his hands.

“Tell me, what’s wrong?”, he asked, sounding more reliable and kinder than any of his friends.

So Jongwoo told him what happened. He glared up into the sky, not quite sure where the dark ceiling of their room was ending and Moonjo’s black locks beginning. They hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. The streetlamp outside the window immersed the room in a warm glow.

“I- I saw Jieun and Jaeho. They were making out. But Jaeho knew that I have a crush on Jieun, and he always pushed the boundaries with her, constantly flirting!”, he whispered, not in the mood to talk any louder.

A thumb reached up to wipe the stray tears away.

Then Moonjo chuckled. “Well, I could kiss you, if that would make you feel better”, he mused, tilting Jongwoo’s head enough so that the two looked at each other again.

Registering the offer – an offer that was absolutely preposterous – Moonjo made, Jongwoo ripped himself from the other’s hold. “Wh-What the FUCK?”, he spluttered. The alcohol clouded his mind, but he could still think well enough to know that a kiss from Moonjo would serve the opposite result.

His posture became defensive, and the fact that Moonjo still stood there smiling, looming over him without even trying – a shadow hidden in the dark of the night, made his mood even worse.

He dared to step closer, pushing the other as hard as he could manage without toppling over himself.  “You, Moonjo, you followed me to Seokyoon, after you’d said you’d behave! And now you were at the party too!? Don’t think that I like you now! You’re still so creepy!”, he yelled, pushing the other until his back hit the door.

Moonjo, always so composed and calm, grinned down at Jongwoo. Even when the younger boy poked his chest with an accusatory finger, he seemed unwavering.

“Jagiya, you’re awfully angry today. Just yesterday you were so sweet”, he chuckled with a low voice.

The amused tone of his voice made Jongwoo want to rip his hair out. Or punch Moonjo. Or maybe both. “And stop calling me that!”, he pushed Moonjo against the door again, regaining his strength somewhere in the midst of his anger fit.

“I’m not you jagiya!”, he growled, pushing Moonjo again, though the smirk never left the other’s lips. Letting out an agitated scream, Jongwoo wandered back into the middle of the room.

Then, everything became blurry yet again. Jongwoo punched the other, aiming straight for his nose, but Moonjo’s reflexes were obviously better, and he pulled Jongwoo forwards by his arm, resuming the earlier position from the party. Just now, they were away from the door. Moonjo holding Jongwoo in between their two beds.

Jongwoo’s elbow snapped backwards, and this one seemingly caught Moonjo off guard a little, as he managed to jab his elbow into the other’s side.

Moonjo grunted a little, and lost his footing, falling backwards on his bed. Jongwoo had wringed himself free of the embrace, regaining his breath cowered on the floor.

If Moonjo really wanted to harm him, this was the time to strike. But in all honesty, Moonjo just looked at the other with a hint of intrigue in his eyes. He was yearning to see the extent of the younger’s anger. So, he laid there pliantly waiting for the next move.

Standing up with quite some effort, Jongwoo returned his attention to Moonjo, who was still lying spread out on his bed, grinning widely as ever.

Jongwoo was already swaying, and his second attempt at punching the other in the face, this time punching downwards, finally made his body succumb to gravity. He came down crashing onto the taller man, eliciting a surprised grunt from him - and just like that, their scuffle ended faster than Moonjo expected, with Jongwoo passed out atop of him.

But who was he to complain in such a predicament?

Chapter Text

Waking up to a pleasant warmth engulfing your body was not what Jongwoo expected, but alas he apparently drank too much the night before. His limbs felt too heavy to even move around, let alone try to get up from the comfortable embrace. Still, he tried, to no avail – although, whoever slept beside him seemed to stir as well.

‘I don’t remember going home with anyone..’, he groaned, trying to will away the imbedding headache. He felt dizzy, little white lights dancing in front of his eyes. ‘But wasn’t there this girl I met in the kitchen?’

In another attempt to heave himself up and grasp the full situation, the other person seemed to have woken up completely. In spite of Jongwoo’s arms pushing against the ground, trying to escape, his efforts were promptly stopped by the other’s arms circling his waist to keep him steady. The arms were strong, so Jongwoo had no choice but to comply to being pressed against the other body.

Now the warmth turned to heat, Jongwoo’s headache turning into a pounding pain.

The body gave a low groan, and Jongwoo felt it turn around, taking him with it. The presence felt like a wall, hiding Jongwoo from the sunshine pouring into the room.

“Jagiya”, the voice murmurs into the crown of Jongwoo’s hair, deep and gravelly.

Jongwoo nearly choked on his own spit.

He knew that voice – it was Moonjo.

His reflexes aided his crumbling, hungover brain, causing Jongwoo to trash against the other’s arms. His own voice didn’t want to comply yet, it still felt like Jongwoo’s throat was a barren wasteland.

The embrace tightened, and Moonjo gave another groan, one that was softer – less an indication of his wake and more a sign he wanted to continue sleeping.

“Jagiya, I have a bruise on my face because of you. Let me stay a while longer, okay?”, he whispered, though the voice and tone still send shivers down Jongwoo’s spine and a rosy blush onto his face.

He gritted his teeth, not even able to look at the other – his field of vision was occupied entirely by Moonjo’s shift. However, he found, his legs began to feel usable again – resulting in small kicks from Jongwoo to Moonjo.

Pathetic really, but what else could he do to free himself?

At this, Moonjo just chuckled, tightening even more around the other, as if he couldn’t be close enough. “Alright, alright. Don’t be so impatient”, he mused, eventually allowing Jongwoo to sit up.

But even so, the distance between them was troublingly small to say the least. Jongwoo opted to simply run into the bathroom, nearly knocking his head into the floor next to the bed.

Moonjo, already up as well, and reaching to catch the other with his warm hands yet again, didn’t interfere. He only smiled at the other – suppressing another amused chuckle as Jongwoo’s legs gave way, and he did end up falling.

The other disregarded his own bed hair, or the fact that he had slept in the previous nights clothes in favor of moving towards Jongwoo, crouching down to his level. Jongwoo knelt half-heartedly on the floor, throbbing head in his hands.

Moonjo, as if his arms were a blanket, moved to gently pat Jongwoo on the shoulder again, but he was met with a more or less precisely aimed elbow stabbing at his side. Moonjo grinned yet again, the elbow hitting the air without much effort.

“Do you feel sick, jagi? You drank a lot yesterday”, he mused, resuming the back rubbing. Still, Jonwoo kept quiet. Either he was too stubborn about his pride to accept help, or he was too angry, for a multitude of reasons.

Though, Moonjo believed that with the amount of alcohol Jongwoo had probably drunken, the consequences would come soon. So, he heaved the other up into his arms, and guided the wobbly figure into the bathroom.

A good precaution – as Jongwoo stumbled to the toilet as soon as they passed the bathroom entrance, throwing up into the bowl. Jongwoo looked miserable, he knew – but Moonjo still knelt beside him.

‘The ruffled hair suits him nicely. He looks less robotic’, Jongwoo pondered between fits of nausea, gazing over to Moonjo. The hand rubbing circles on his back had returned as well.

After a while, Moonjo even got up to grab a bottle of water for Jongwoo, who downed it in a blinking moment.

His voice, returning to its full capacity slowly but surely. “Why did you let me fall asleep?”, Jongwoo asked, still quieter than Moonjo. It was still loud enough for the other to understand perfectly. Jongwoo tilted his head upwards enough to look at him.

The other, now leaning against the bathroom wall, sitting in a position that allowed him to easily reach over into Jongwoo’s space any time, kept the eye-contact. There was a sense of humanization in the way Moonjo looked like – instead of clean and composed, he was hunched over; in a crumbled shirt, with ruffled hair.

“So, you’re telling me you would have reacted differently, had I changed your clothes and tucked you in, huh jagiya?”, Moonjo grinned, content with himself.

Moonjo’s comment ignited another spark of warmth in Jongwoo, although he would blame it on left-over alcohol in his system. His head hurt too much, and the stark light of their bathroom made his world go spinning once again. Jongwoo closed his eyes, sinking into himself.

Nevertheless, Moonjo still kept his eyes on the younger boy – until, with a languid sigh, he got to his feet. He rummaged through the bathroom’s cupboard, before taking a small bottle of what seemed to be medicine. He handed it towards Jongwoo, exchanging it for the water bottle – only to fill it up and hand it back again.

Jongwoo cowered next to the toilet, medicine and water in his hands. He mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ and swallowed one of the pills.

Still, his headache persisted, even as he stumbled back to his own bed – assisted by his roommate. In a feverish haze, he dragged the constricting pair of jeans of his legs and took off the green shirt; putting an oversized plain shirt on instead. Jongwoo felt Moonjo’s eyes on him, but his only goals was to get under his own covers and sleep through his aching.

The bed sheets were cold, pleasantly so – and Jongwoo uttered a content sigh at the feeling. He stayed on his back, only moving his face to the side to meet the gaze of Moonjo, who sat on the floor again, leaning against his bed frame in a manner that Jongwoo had seen multiple times.

There was a different aura about the other. Usually, Jongwoo would expect a desire to recoil from the other’s presence whenever they were near each other – but something about Moonjo felt comforting at the moment. It wasn’t the smile, still creepily drawn out; perhaps it was his smell.

Jongwoo had seen the row of cologne and perfume on one of Moonjo’s shelves, a range of masculine, earthy scents. Mixed with the scents of his shampoo and clothes, the soothing smell still lingered around Jongwoo after having slept so close to him.

Another flush of redness came over Jongwoo’s face, and he drew the covers higher, hiding himself.

The immediate sickness was gone, though he still opted to avoid the bright lights to lessen the dull ache in his head.

After a while though – the additional hour or so of sleep helping tremendously -, he couldn’t help but be curious about the events of the prior night. Jongwoo’s memories were in a blur, only vaguely remembering coming home after seeing Jaeho and Jieun.

At that, the headache was accompanied by another dreadful aching – and he felt more miserable than before.

“Moonjo, wh-what happened last night? I don’t quite remember”, he mumbled, dragging his blanket a little away from his face. And again, as he turned his head, the other was already looking intensely at him.

He cocked his head, finger pointing at the red bruise on his cheekbone. “Jagi, you’re quite feisty when you drink”, he mused, his voice still deeper than usual.

Jongwoo got up in a swift motion, pushing the covers off, before glaring at the other again. His headache didn’t enjoy the rapid movement, and he had to still for a moment, waiting for his vision to focus again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, he hissed at the other.

Though what he got instead, was still just an amused grin. Moonjo rested his head on his hand, looking at the other for a while before continuing.

“As I said, you were quite angry, jagiya.” Then Moonjo came forward, closing the distance between the two. He now had to look up to meet Jongwoo’s eyes – and the position gave Jongwoo a sense of superiority he rarely got in Moonjo’s presence, the other always looming and giant. As he did nearly every time Moonjo spoke to him, he ignored the creepy term of endearment.

“On the other hand, you were also clinging to me, so it didn’t matter”, he grinned, head moving to the side to avoid the immediate punch as Jongwoo registered the teasing.

Jongwoo nearly toppled over as his upper body moved too far off the edge of the bed, though Moonjo’s frame steadied him. His arms folded on the edge of the bed, and now Moonjo’s head was almost close enough to lay on Jongwoo’s lap – though Moonjo never made a move to do so.

He just kept the gaze, making Jongwoo shiver, nonetheless.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Moonjo asked after a moment of silence. “You know it’s better to be truthful, saying what you want to say and doing what you want to do.”

And Moonjo was right – but Jongwoo never did feel as though he had the right to be truthful about his feelings, always hiding and stifling his emotions.

“Actually…”, he averted his eyes from the other kneeling in front of him, “I did want to punch Jaeho. For flirting and making out with Jieun, and for treating me like shit any chance he could.”

Moonjo’s smile became nearly ecstatic at that, eyes glistening with something akin to pride.

“What was stopping you jagiya?”

‘Honestly, I don’t know. There were just so many people around, and I didn’t want to make Jieun think bad of me’, he wanted to say, but instead he kept silent. Jongwoo didn’t know, and maybe he was scared of what would happen if he did succumb to his urges.

Looking the other in the eyes again, he tried to change the subject. “What’s your relationship with Ms. Eom anyway – isn’t it weird you’re both at the same university?”

At that the pleased grin of the other froze a little, a rather stoic expression returning. The change elicited something in between fear and worry in Jongwoo, though he pushed the feeling away immediately.

Though it didn’t last long, Moonjo attempting to mask his expression with smile that felt ingenuous, but Jongwoo wouldn’t mention it. He wasn’t the only one with problems he’d rather avoid.

“I told you, she’s a second mother to me”, Moonjo said, voice a little strained. “And it really was a coincidence, but this university is prestigious and known, so I suppose we both wanted to make use of the opportunity.”

Jongwoo nodded, though he felt like Moonjo was lying straight through his teeth. His voice was wavering, unlike the confident way he usually appeared and talked. But alas, he didn’t feel like pushing him, not after he had helped him so much.

So, as Jongwoo turned back around to continue sleeping, he thanked the other once more, not missing the weird pull in his stomach as Moonjo’s hand accidentally brushed against his own.

---

A week later, Jongwoo found himself in Seokyoon’s dorm again. The two were diligently working on their project, and now it was time to compile their stray thoughts into one cohesive document. This time they were both sitting on opposite ends of Seokyoon’s bed, keeping quiet as Seokyoon’s roommate was there as well.

Jongwoo felt an eerie sense of familiarity with his roommate, whatever he had seen of him in the past several hours reminded him too much of Moonjo.

“Oh, Jongwoo, your birthday is on Thursday, right?”, Seokyoon said after another while, as his roommate left for class. “Do you have any plans yet?”

Frankly Jongwoo didn’t – or at least, he didn’t think he could make plans with either one of his friends after what happened at Jaeho’s party. Still, he hadn’t talked about it, and if he was honest, Jongwoo was avoiding his friends to push the conversation away.

So, he shook his head, hoping that Seokyoon would ask him to go somewhere.

And that he did – grinning excitedly, much more than any of his friends would. “A friend of mine told me about this new bar in Itaewon, and I think you might enjoy it”, he offered.

Jongwoo hesitated, thoughts straying off to his last encounter with alcohol. ‘Maybe it’s a good idea to go though. I can’t be caught up on them for the rest of the semester anyways’, he mused.

“Yeah sure, that sounds fun”, Jongwoo smiled in agreement, followed by a fond laughter as Seokyoon gave him a fist bump.

Their project was nearly finished anyways, the deadline of midnight seeming like more than enough time; and so they spent the majority of the afternoon talking – or more gossiping – about their roommates and whatever other troubles university gave them.

---

Thursday’s classes had drained Jongwoo enough for him to long for a long nap, but he still forced himself to dress up nicely and join Seokyoon at the bus stop.

The two reached a club at the edge of Itaewon, the neon lights pulled into a cursive writing of the name “Garden Eden”. The interior was filled with greenery, although probably plastic, and there was a pleasant scent of flowers that contradicted the typical smell of people crowdedly dancing with each other, alcohol and sweat.

Jongwoo was overwhelmed, and he was thankful at Seokyoon’s guiding hands pulling him to a more open space of the club. The two sat down at a table and ordered a round of drinks – as Seokyoon said it was only fun if they were a little tipsy as well. And Jongwoo couldn’t agree more.

Over the blaring music and myriad of colorful light, Jongwoo felt his anxiety recede the more he drank of the obnoxious cocktails Seokyoon had ordered for him.

“So, how was your day so far?”, Seokyoon yelled after a while, a smile on his face that seemingly knew this was the most excited and awake Jongwoo had been all day.

“Horrible!”, Jongwoo cried, leaning into the dramatics. The two giggled into their glasses, observing the people around them.

After a while Seokyoon even convinced the other to go to the dance floor. Even with the fuzziness of alcohol, Jongwoo wasn’t quite confident enough in his dance skills; but Seokyoon interjected his attempt to go back to the table by dragging him by the hands – pulling him close and dancing with Jongwoo. Although the dancing should be categorized more as Seokyoon using the grasp on the other’s hands to make him sway along to the music.

“Wow, Seokyoon-ah was this your true motive for taking me to a club?”, Jongwoo joked, enjoying himself, nonetheless. “I didn’t take you for such a flirt”

They both erupted into laughter, and Seokyoon let the other go, resuming a multitude of horrible dance moves that were out of sync with the music. “Hyung, I would never!”, he joked. “But you were just going to go away again if I didn’t make you dance~!”

After a while of them dancing in between the crowd, Jongwoo dragged the other back to a table again, exhausted beyond comparison but weirdly giddy. He ordered another set of cocktails, as a person made their way towards the two of them.

It was a girl, dressed in a dazzling glittery red ensemble – clearly intoxicated as well from the sway in her walk.

“Heyyy~”, she slurred, as she sat down next to Seokyoon. Jongwoo looked at the two with an amused smile, noting how Seokyoon nodded at the girl politely.

“You’re so handsome, you know? I’ve seen you on campus”, the girl continued, still looking dazedly at Seokyoon, hands gesturing around dramatically with her words.

“Really? I don’t think I know you though”, Seokyoon answered. The girl feigned a look of surprise, before introducing herself as Choi Hwayoung, nearly going in to hug Seokyoon, who recoiled a little, polite nonetheless.

Hwayoung despite her drunken behavior noticed the apprehension in Seokyoon. “Ahh, I’m just trying to flirt. Do you not like me?”, she pouted, making Jongwoo snort a little.

Seokyoon laughed awkwardly. “Well…”, he looked to Jongwoo for help, but the latter just chuckled, sipping his drink, “I’m not into girls, sorry”, he explained.

At that, the girl’s shoulders slumped. “Really? Aww, but you’re juuust my type”, she sighed, but didn’t attempt to crowd into Seokyoon’s personal space anymore. Instead, she flashed him an apologetic smile, and got up to leave. “It’s fine though. Goodbye, handsome stranger”, she waved, before wobbling back into the crowd.

Seokyoon sighed, looking back at Jongwoo before downing the rest of his drink. “Oh god, I’m just too handsome for my own good, hyung”, he laughed.

Like so often, Jongwoo’s mouth moved too fast for his brain to catch up. “You’re gay?”, he asked, sounding more accusatory than he wanted to.

Seokyoon flinched a little at the tone but nodded. “Is that a problem?”

Jongwoo shook his head frantically, almost knocking over his own drink as he reached over to Seokyoon. “NO! No, really, I was just surprised by your confidence!”, he babbled. Seokyoon grinned at that.

“No, don’t worry, I’m not mad”, he responded. “What about you?”

And again, Jongwoo had to come to the conclusion that he didn’t know. He looked to the side, throath suddenly too dry for comfort. “I- I don’t know actually”, he mumbled, though Seokyoon understood him even through the noise of the music.

Weirdly enough, Jongwoo’s thought he saw a flicker of Moonjo’s figure in the crowd– though he pushed that idea as far down as possible. There’s no way he would show up in a place like this, it’s too much of a coincidence.

Seokyoon patted him on the shoulder as he sensed the discomfort. “That’s fine, sexual orientation is something you figure out through the course of your life. It’s not a race, hyung.”

‘What an image, I’m getting life lessons from somebody younger than me’, Jongwoo contemplated, though he was grateful for the other.

The evening concluded some hours later, and at the entrance of the club, Jongwoo could feel the heavy stare of his roommate again, though Moonjo was nowhere to be seen. Jongwoo must’ve had too much alcohol again, so much that he was apparently hallucinating.

---

Bidding their goodbyes, Seokyoon and Jongwoo separated at the former’s dormitory building.

And much to Jongwoo’s surprise, Moonjo was still up when he entered their room, despite the clock indicating half past one in the morning. Although, it wasn’t really that surprising, Moonjo was always submerged in work or things of the like.

The noise made Moonjo turn to Jongwoo, features morphing into a welcoming smile. “Jagi, welcome back. I didn’t get to congratulate you on your birthday, so I hope you’ll forgive me being a little late”, he explained, reaching behind him to hand Jongwoo a package.

Jongwoo accepted it reluctantly, already guessing it was a birthday present. “Oh… I didn’t- how did you even know it’s my birthday?”, he asked, trying to open the wrapping paper. Moonjo just cocked his head again, having it rest on his hand.

“Ah, I just overheard you once”, he mused, still staring at Jongwoo as he pulled out the contents of his present.

It was an elegant pen and a leatherbound notebook, a present that probably cost more than Jongwoo would ever spend for someone he vaguely knew.

“Wow, this looks so expensive. Moonjo, you didn’t have to buy me anything”, he responded, feeling flustered as he realized how much money Moonjo had spend on him since they met. It was decidedly too much.

The other just got up with a gentle smile, hand resting on Jongwoo's shoulder as he looked at him in a manner that made Jongwoo uneasy, the anxiety returning; “But jagi, I wanted to buy it for you.”

And if Jongwoo wasn’t pondering his conflicted feelings about his elusive roommate already, he certainly was now.

Chapter Text

The following Friday morning, Jongwoo was surprised to wake up and have Moonjo still be in bed. He glanced at the clock, reading 8:30 am. Even he himself woke up much earlier than he should on Fridays. Jongwoo pondered about waking him up for a second, but then he concluded that Moonjo would never be so careless as to oversleep. It must be fine, and so he got into the bathroom to shower.

As always – or perhaps it was a habit he’d formed in replication of Moonjo – he opted to wear a towel around his waist as he exited the shower.

Maybe just this once, it was a bad decision. Or maybe it was a good idea to still wear underwear underneath – as Moonjo stood in front of the door when Jongwoo opened it.  

He didn’t miss Moonjo’s gaze flickering downwards. “Good morning, jagi”, Moonjo said, as he pushed through the bathroom door next to Jongwoo. Again, Moonjo clearly looked like he just woke up – ruffled bed hair and a deeper than usual voice. But Jongwoo tried his hardest to will away the flustered expression coming onto his face.

“Morning”, he mumbled, squeezing back into the main room.

He still felt Moonjo’s gaze on him, even as Jongwoo went to his closet. Jongwoo huffed out a breath in annoyance – he didn’t want to put up with the other’s antics this early in the morning.

“Why are you staring?”, he nearly hissed, though not turning around to look at Moonjo.

Moonjo chuckled at Jongwoo’s remark but continued to stare at him.

“I’m just surprised you woke up this early”, he mused – a teasing tone to his voice – “Did you want to spend time with me before class?”

Jongwoo rolled his eyes. As if.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Moonjo. I just have things to do”, he barked, turning around to sneer at Moonjo a little.

The other scoffed, looking irritatingly amused. “Of course, jagiya. You’re a very busy person”, he grinned. “Although next time you wake up this early, be sure to tell me.”- Moonjo leaned against the door frame before closing it – “I’d love to take a shower together.”

Jongwoo chucked the nearest sweater he could grab against the bathroom door, glaring at the retreating smirk of Moonjo as the door fell close. His face felt hot, a sensation he’d come to expect with Moonjo these days.

‘What an absolute bastard’, Jongwoo mumbled to himself. ‘What goes on his head, I really don’t want to know…’

Not wanting to see Moonjo again, he left the dorm early – heading to the library to work on his assignments before he actually had to leave for class.

However, the entire way, Jongwoo felt an eerie figure following him, like a second shadow that didn’t go away. It gave him shivers, but whenever Jongwoo actually turned to look at his surroundings, there was no one in sight.

No Moonjo, not even anybody who looked like him.

Was he starting to hallucinate? Like all the other times he thought he saw Moonjo? Or was the other actually following him nearly everywhere.

The boy gave Jongwoo the creeps; his black eyes seemingly burning into the depths of his own body, his gaze ever-present.

---

After classes, the library felt like the better option as opposed to returning to his dorm. But bad luck seemed to follow Jongwoo today – first the encounter with Moonjo, second, he bumped into the dreaded presence of Jieun.

Jieun, a scowl on her face, obviously annoyed at Jongwoo ignoring her. She had called him multiple times since that night at Jaeho’s house. Jongwoo had declined every single time.

“Ah Jieun, funny running into you. How have you been doing?”, he greeted her awkwardly, though the distaste seeped through his tone. Talking to her felt like biting into a lemon, like a sharp bitterness spreading in his mouth.

Jieun noticed, her scowl deepening.

“What do you mean ‘funny running into you’? You’ve been ignoring me”, she whisper-yelled, pulling Jongwoo into one of the rows of bookshelves.

Jongwoo just let her drag him, too tired to put up a fight.

“Jieun, don’t play dumb”, he responded, grabbing her hand lightly. It didn’t feel right, touching her, but Jongwoo felt himself act on a reflex.

“You know why I’ve been ignoring you!”, he bit out.

Flashes of Jieun and Jaeho kissing each other; the thought made Jongwoo’s emotions boil over again. He never felt so betrayed in his life, not even Junghwa bothered to tell him, just adding salt to the wound.

Jieun scoffed at him. Her usually pretty facial features were contorted into an ugly expression. Or maybe Jongwoo just needed something to paint her into the monster she was.

“Why are you so angry about me and Jaeho? I can decide who I’ll sleep with on my own!”, she retaliated.

But the answer just made Jongwoo even livider. He knew in the back of his head that the two had probably slept with each other. It was dumb to believe otherwise – but the confirmation made his heart break a little more.

‘How dare she make herself out to be the innocent victim, when she’s just trampling over my feelings’, Jongwoo mentally cried.

He let out a shaky breath, trying to avoid lashing out at her.

“You are, that’s not the point. But why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were friends?”, he decided a different approach.

Perhaps him and Jieun never really dated, but he still was her best friend. The two were still close – or so Jongwoo thought.

Jieun laughed at his question incredulously.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re my friend!”, her hand squeezed back a little against Jongwoo’s hold, the additional physical contact almost burning Jongwoo in a way, “But I don’t have to keep you updated on my love life like that!”

She was right – Jongwoo knew that.

He gripped his hair in a frustrated manner. “You know what happened between us! And you know how Jaeho humiliated me!”, he cried, voice still quiet to avoid letting the entire library know of his not-even-relationship brawl.

“Oppa, that happened in high school! We’re not in a relationship, so why are you still so interested in my love life?”, she cried. There were stray tears in her eyes, but she held them in.

Now it was Jongwoo’s turn to nearly cry. All of the frustration, pent up over the years, erupted in him as he realized he wouldn’t win this petty fight.

“Jieun-ah, I’ve never gotten over you! You never gave me time to get over my crush, and I never felt the same about anyone else!”, Jongwoo was desperate now.

Why couldn’t she see her being wrong? Jieun broke his heart twice, and she didn’t even recognize it.

At this, Jieun scoffed – a noise that had Jongwoo boiling with anger. He felt his fists curling into each other, ripping himself from Jieun’s hold.

“What, now I’m the reason you’ve never been in a relationship? I feel like you’re being irrational now, oppa”, Jieun bit out, her tone of voice now equally as sour as Jongwoo’s.

“No, you’re being irrational! I hope you’re happy with Jaeho – let’s see how long it’ll take you until you see his true self. Then don’t come back running to me!”, Jongwoo mentally added a string of insults, all dripping with venom from the tip of his tongue.

“I’m not a child!”, Jieun yelled, a little louder now, making other people turn to look at them. “You know what, oppa? Every single time we’ve hung out nowadays, you only talk about your roommate. Maybe the reason you never liked another girl was”- Jieun paused a little before continuing – “because you’re gay.”

Jongwoo choked on his spit, feeling red-hot anger all over.

He wasn’t gay, and certainly not for Moonjo. But before he couldn’t control himself anymore, scared of acting on his violent urges, Jongwoo just turned around to leave Jieun alone again.

He was fuming, her words burned into the back of his head.

‘How could I have a crush on Moonjo? I just talk about him because he’s infuriating, he’s not important to me’, Jongwoo rambled.

Jongwoo heard Jieun running after him a little, her heals clacking against the floor of the library.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for of me!”, she tried, but the damage was already done.

Jongwoo huffed – he needed space, from all of his supposed friends, but he didn’t want to see Moonjo either.

As he ran out the library, eyes moving around frantically, Jongwoo felt the buzz of his phone, indicating a new message.

Jieun, 4:15 pm:

I’m sorry, oppa. I’ve just been stressed recently, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Hopefully you’ll come over to my dorm once you’ve calmed down. I want to apologize face to face

 

Jongwoo rolled his eyes, blinking away a couple of tears building up.

Another horrible speck of black came into vision, but through his tear-blurred vision, Jongwoo barely made out anything on his way.

Still, his angry walk diminished after a while, footsteps becoming slower and posture more slumped. They carried him towards a coffee shop off campus, Jongwoo needed caffeine to continue functioning. To avoid lashing out again, at Moonjo probably.

At the mental mention of the other’s name, Jongwoo stilled a little. He was in the middle of an intersection, stopping in front of a red light.

‘Am I actually gay?’, he pondered, waiting for the light to turn to green.

There was one time in middle school, when a boy, newly moved to Busan from the USA, made Jongwoo speechless when looking at his glowing bronze skin. He felt a little spark that day, but it never bloomed into anything past internalized hatred towards these ‘odd’ feelings.

All of his male peers talked about girls, and he could only think about the other boy and the way his eyes looked like honey in the sunlight.

Still, that was one time – one time nearly six years ago. Jongwoo wasn’t gay, it was just a stupid infatuation.

‘I do think a lot about Moonjo’, Jongwoo uttered, paying for his much-needed cold brew.

Jieun’s words created a conflict he’d hope to have suppressed by now, and whatever she had reminded him of, Jongwoo now had to figure out.

---

Moonjo, that was how he would figure this out. The source of all of his problems – it might as well be the solution to some of them.

His ideas might just be fueled by the caffeine of cold brew coffee, but in the spurt of the moment, going back to Jongwoo’s dorm felt like the most plausible and safest decision.

As expected, Moonjo’s figure appeared in his field of vision as soon as Jongwoo opened the door. He was seated once again at his desk, seemingly submerged in his work.

‘Despite his annoying personality, Moonjo does have an impeccable sense of duty and discipline...’, Jongwoo thought reluctantly. He closed the door behind himself, alerting Moonjo of his own presence.

Like a puppy, the other turned around to gleam at Jongwoo. Still, his expression turned worrisome as he looked at Jongwoo’s scowl.

“Is everything alright, jagi?”, he asked, voice oddly calming.

Jieun made him flare up in anger, but Moonjo kept the crashing waves at bay.

With a sigh, Jongwoo plopped himself down onto his bed. The cup of coffee joined Moonjo’s present on Jongwoo’s bedside table.

He shook his head into the mattress.

“Everything was just stressful today”, he mumbled.

Moonjo’s chair creaked a little, indicating the other getting up. There was a brief moment of silence in which Jongwoo wasn’t sure whether or not the other just stood there staring or moved at a slow and quiet pace.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, the gentle voice interrupted the silence after a while.

Jongwoo felt the embarrassment resurface, burrowing himself into the pillows before turning around to lay on his back – Moonjo standing next to his bed, looking at him. The odd softness of Moonjo’s expression was not something Jongwoo thought he’d get to see.

“I guess”, Jongwoo whispered.

Did he really want to?

Instead, he pushed himself upwards, sitting with his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Are you gay?”, he asked a second time. Jongwoo had no clear indication, yet there was an atmosphere around Moonjo.

This time, Moonjo answered with a swift nod, his hair bouncing up and down in an oddly endearing manner.

So, Jongwoo continued. “How did you find out?”, he asked, a slight flush of red coming back to his face.

This elicited another amused grin on Moonjo’s face. Like a snake winding itself around him, Moonjo sunk to his knees to stay on the same level as Jongwoo. It only resulted in Jongwoo feeling a little caged.

The other grinned at him, looking ever so slightly up at Jongwoo.

“Why do you ask, jagiya?”, he mused, tilting his head to the side, though it was barely noticeable.

Then, another flash of mischief in Moonjo’s dark eyes – “You only have to ask if I should help you”

Jongwoo felt himself growing warmer and redder under the gaze, the words registering slowly. Moonjo offered to help. He felt uncomfortable now, with his clothes feeling itchy on his skin, too much but too little to hide beneath.

“I-I never said I needed help! I’m not gay!”, he spluttered, but this was only half the truth.

He might need help, but until he would swallow his pride and ask Moonjo for it, he’d rather move back to Busan or die ten times over.

The lump in Jongwoo’s throat made it difficult to continue talking. So, he moved his knees off the edge, seeking comfort in his bed, in the distance between himself and the dark mass that is Moonjo. The other just smiled, as he always did.

“A-Anyways”, Jongwoo needed to change the topic. “Have you been following me?”

There was a slight change in the other’s expression, so fast Jongwoo nearly missed it. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and there was a brief spark of shock in Moonjo’s eyes.

“What makes you think so?”, he responded, continuing smoothly.

It felt like the answer Jongwoo needed – yes, the other was following him.

Still, he intended to elaborate. “Don’t play pretend. I’ve seen you around campus, outside Seokyoon’s dorm, you even followed me to the club on my birthday!”, Jongwoo explained, voice slightly irritated and increasing in volume.

Moonjo scoffed. This was a sound he hadn’t heard from the other at all. It felt strange, too blunt to come from his roommate.

“Jagiya”, Moonjo began, putting a precise intonation on the dreaded nickname – Jongwoo averted his eyes a little, looking to the side.

“You’ve been spending too much time with others, especially Seokyoon. I barely get to see you”, now Moonjo’s voice sounded almost whiny again. Like a child who didn’t get what he wanted.

Jongwoo could only stare in amazement at the scene unfolding before him. “Are you serious?”, he mocked. The distance between them gave him a bigger sense of power, he felt better about his tone.

“You don’t own me, you psycho!”

Moonjo’s grin widened, a comical curl to the ends of his lips. A hand reached up to lie against Jongwoo’s knee, though Jongwoo jerked away the same moment.

Moonjo laughs again, though this time, Jongwoo feels the bitter undertone as well.

An odd clammy coldness runs through his body. ‘What did I get myself into?’, Jongwoo mentally cried.

“You should be careful”, the hand on his thigh returned again, this time slower, “you might be pushing away the few people who actually care about you.”

Jongwoo screamed in frustration at the claim Moonjo stated. He trashed his legs against the solid form of the other and scrambled backwards to the wall of the dorm room.

How dare Moonjo say something like that? Why does he think that everything revolves around him, even in the realm of my own patheticness?

But, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he felt the sickness – Moonjo wasn’t wrong in his observations, at least not entirely. Still, he was too prideful to give in to the other’s games.

“You’re one to talk!”, Jongwoo moved forward onto his hands and knees; the position giving him a small height advantage over the other.

“You’re always so cryptic and odd – do you really not know how easy it is to tell you’ve had a terrible set of parents?”, Jongwoo bit out.

However, the expected laughter didn’t come. Jongwoo didn’t hear it. Instead, he felt the burning gaze once more. Above all, it was still silent. A dark mass of night sky, silence and Seo Moonjo.

“You should take caution”, Moonjo said, voice now monotone and deep – a wild change to the usual omnipresent smirk and dark abyss.

Moonjo took another look at Jongwoo before standing up to move towards his side of the room again.

“You seem exhausted. It’s better to sleep a little, no?”, Moonjo stated after a while.

‘He’s right in that at least’, Jongwoo mumbled into himself.

He might as well sleep through the fit of embarrassment, anger and annoyance.

But his peaceful sleep was short-lived – as so many other things with his streak of luck.

The familiar outlines of Jongwoo’s family home, the smell of his mother’s perfume and his own collection of books – the neighbors still tormenting him through the walls. There was a dull pounding against the wall, and he saw his brother and mother cowered on the living room couch, staring at it.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Echoes of childlike laughter, almost too squeaky to be genuine laughter. Their neighbors had no children, that was sure.

And he heard the voices of Jieun and Jaeho – they were vague, somewhere in the distance, and yet the sounds surrounded Jongwoo like a ring of fire.

Jongwoo’s view soon morphed into a dark valley; the kitchen wall expanded well  beyond their reach to convey the dinning room.

After a while, even the eerie childish laughter and groaning faded away.

One second, he felt eaten alive under the scrutinizing voices of his nightmares, and the next he saw a vaguely black silhouette filling up the doorframe.

The figure came closer – it was Moonjo, that much Jongwoo could make out through the odd haziness in his vision and mind. A dark mass resembling a hand formed from thin air, reaching to stroke Jongwoo’s left thigh, reaching further up and down than Jongwoo was willing to allow outside the safety of dreams.

He didn’t even realize he was sitting.

They were sitting. On Jongwoo’s bed – the bed in his dorm room.

Jongwoo’s breath hitched – as the dream figure continued to touch his sides. The fingers were ghosting along the protruding hip bones, up to gently lay against his waist. They were cold, and yet Jongwoo couldn’t help but melt into whatever vices they were dragging him into.

Was it really Moonjo?

The face was blurry, an amalgamation of facial features, elusive to say at best. It had Jieun’s eyes, but the definite touch of Moonjo – cold and solid, and so very gentle.

The hands moved further down, dangerously close to his groin – but in this dream Jongwoo felt calmer than ever. Was it because of this? Because of Moonjo?

It was too complicated, too strenuous to think about it; so maybe just this once he could indulge in something.

He slipped, moans and pleased sighs of his dream-self blurring with the rest of the scene, a dull sound in the back of his head.

The figure wasn’t cold anymore, but blazingly hot. It made Jongwoo sweat, yearn for more, and recoil a little at the same time. Fire could burn, he had to be careful.

And just before the sweet touch could bring Jongwoo over the edge, his dreams came to a painful stop.

With a startled breath, he woke up.

Jongwoo stilled as soon as he awoke, his face was flushed an embarrassing beet red. The warm hands were gone, but he still felt sweaty and hot all over.

‘Did I really…?’, he felt an uncomfortable straining against his underwear. If his sweaty glistening skin wasn’t indication enough, the obvious hardness certainly was. Yes, he definitely did – Jongwoo deepened and curled into the sheets even more at the shameful realization.

‘With Moonjo on the other bed nonetheless…’, he thought, mentally crying in frustration.

Jongwoo turned around in the sheets, taking a peek at the other from his peripheral vision. Moonjo sat on his bed, book in hands and headphones in his ears– but he seemed attentive to him, like he stilled as Jongwoo woke up.

Still, he was silent. Observing, though his expression bore few hints.

A slight quirk of his lips was enough for Jongwoo – Moonjo was aware of what happened.

‘Did I make any sounds? I was only dreaming, was I?’, Jongwoo chewed on his lips, nearly biting through the skin.

His blush deepened even more. Jongwoo had to get out of bed, run for the bathroom.

Jongwoo’s nervous hands gripped the bed sheets tight enough for his knuckles to shine whitely. Reluctantly, he moved to push the sheets away, taking good care to conceal his problem from Moonjo.

He stumbled to the bathroom, locking it quickly and sinking onto the floor.

Jongwoo wailed a little, gripping his hair. His eyes teared up in mortification. ‘This is really the last thing I’d expected to happen’, he groaned, frustrated at the idea of having such a dream about Moonjo.

He was so sure about his lack of attraction towards the other – but the hardness in his underwear and the lingering warmth in his stomach threw his thoughts in a jumble.

Chapter Text

Frankly, Jongwoo didn’t know if it was a bad decision to meet up with Jieun after all – but he was a little naïve, he supposed. Jieun, much like himself, could be quite irrational at times, but maybe they could truly talk out their issues once and for all.

So, in the late afternoon following their encounter, he found himself standing in front of Jieun’s door.

“Ah, oppa, hello!”, Jieun greeted him as she opened the door. Her tone felt a little dishonest, like she was also as reluctant about meeting him as Jongwoo was. Jongwoo also noted that she didn’t wear make-up, making the vague dark spots under her eyes visible.

‘Did she have trouble sleeping? Surely it couldn’t be because of me, right?’, Jongwoo pondered as he walked into her dorm room.

Junghwa was nowhere to be seen, a fact that made Jongwoo tense up a little. Even if Junghwa had hurt his feelings just as much as the other two.

The silence between Jongwoo and Jieun was awkward to say the least. He felt like her lack of words resulted in a pounding headache against his temples. Eventually, they both just sat on opposite sides of her bed and continued the silence.

Jongwoo felt like he should leave again, before Jieun finally broke the tenseness.

“So, maybe we should go to a café? Have you had something to eat yet?”, she asked, absent-mindedly twirling a strand of hair in between her fingers.

He noted that she chose her words carefully, even if her posture was still a little rigid. Not comfortable. Jongwoo didn’t blame Jieun, he felt the same.

But he also enjoyed the offer of moving whatever this conversation ought to be to a café. At least he would be surrounded by other people, and the hurt wouldn’t be quite so lonely.

“No, I haven’t, I am actually quite hungry”, he answered truthfully.

Jieun forced a soft smile and jumped up from the bed to reach for her purse. Jongwoo followed her with the same fake expression. On the way to the café – about 10 minutes away from campus – he pondered on their relationship.

Why was it only now, after the harsh realization that Jieun cared so little about his feelings, that he came to see how tense their friendship really was? Sure he loved to call her his best friend, but how true was that really, especially when he couldn’t shake his feelings for her, even after all that happened?

Jongwoo shuddered. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he?

But, when they arrived at the café, his blood began boiling again for an entirely different reason. At the table was another person, a person he wished to never see ever again in his life.

He turned to glare at Jieun, a little harsher than intended.

“What is he doing here?”, Jongwoo bit out. Jieun smiled apologetically, taking a step backwards at his sudden tone.

Then, she moved to sit down at the table, sitting next to Jaeho – who grinned at Jongwoo in the most pretentious way he had ever seen. Jaeho moved to drag his arm across Jieun’s shoulder, who didn’t to anything to stop him.

Jongwoo wanted to pry his fingers off one by one, even if he had to break them to loosen the grip.

“I’m really sorry, but I felt like Jaeho needed to be included in our conversation”, she signaled for Jongwoo to sit down as well. “You know, we should talk about this together.”

Jongwoo was still standing, boiling, balling his fists. But he felt a little childish – Jieun was right, it was probably best to talk about it together, as much as he wanted to punch away Jaeho’s awful expression.

“Fine”, he grumbled instead, sitting down opposite of Jieun and Jaeho.

The arrangement felt more like an interrogation of him, rather than a conversation of three people. He bit his lower lip in an effort to keep quiet – now was not the time to lash out at the two. He should listen first.

Jieun took a deep breath. “So, to clarify everything first, me and Jaeho have been dating for about a month now”, she explained.

“So, why didn’t you ever tell me?”, Jongwoo asked.

Again, Jieun sighed. She looked vaguely uncomfortable, but Jongwoo wanted answers to his questions. Surely, he could have that, right?

“I just didn’t think you were emotionally ready for it. You know, as much as I like you, you can be quite hot-headed sometimes. And you’ve always gotten along badly with Jaeho-oppa”, she answered.

She didn’t bother masking her frowning expression now, and in a way Jongwoo was glad about it.

“Jongwoo-yah, I know you probably feel hurt by what you saw”, Jaeho opened his mouth, and made it harder for Jongwoo to keep his cool.

“But let’s be honest; we’re all adults. Don’t you think you should be a little more mature? Jieun rejected you, and it’s not my fault you cannot get over your first love”, he laughed at the last part, as if bringing home the point about Jongwoo being immature.

He actually bit into his lower lip now, Jongwoo could feel the growing metallic taste in his mouth and the dull pain.

Still, he kept himself poised – not wanting to lash out at Jaeho just yet. Not in this environment, where there were enough witnesses to land him at the police station with more trouble than he currently needed.

Jieun moved to grab Jaeho by the shoulders now. “Now, that was uncalled for oppa”, she nearly whispered.

“Shut up! You were never my friend anyway, why are you still sticking around me? To get to Jieun?”, Jongwoo couldn’t help but snap back.

At that, Jaeho’s smirking, arrogant expression turned sour as well. He leaned over the table.

“What are you even talking about? Do you think everything revolves around you, huh?”, he bit out. Jongwoo wasn’t used to him being so blunt, but it was a nice change from his usual taunting.

Now Jieun is trying to actually get in between them, before Jongwoo can lean over the table as well.

“Stop it you two! Let’s sit down and talk about this normally without fighting!”, she announced, trying to get the two to sit back down again.

Jongwoo tsked at that, as suddenly another familiar figure came into his peripheral vision.

Another person he’d rather not see at the moment. Not after last night.

Moonjo.

Like a calming wave, he made his way towards them in fluid movement. Moonjo sat down next to Jongwoo like it came naturally.

Jongwoo wouldn’t admit it, but the other’s presence made him relax tremendously. He didn’t feel the raging urge to punch Jaeho, he didn’t want to scream at the pair in front of him. Moonjo kept him at bay, even if he couldn’t look the other in the eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Who are you even?”, Jaeho snapped as he realized the other forcing himself into the conversation.

Moonjo reclined in the chair comfortably, putting on his signature grin.

Jongwoo could only look at his side profile in awe. He seemed so calm, and yet Jongwoo knew better than to be fooled by the other’s look. What could hide behind those eyes was terrifying.

“I’m Moonjo, Jongwoo’s roommate”, he replied, voice taking on a fake tone.

Jaeho scoffed, making his posture taller and more assertive. “So, what has this go to do with you? You should leave, this doesn’t concern you!”, he said sharply.

At this, Moonjo chuckled a little, and he leaned forwards to prop his elbows up on the table. Jongwoo nearly grinned at the scared expression Jaeho made. Even Jieun recoiled a little. He didn’t blame them, Moonjo could be quite scary.

But it felt nice to see Moonjo’s terrifying presence on his side, Jongwoo concluded. The realization made his insides warm up.

“Of course, it does”, his voice was like dripping honey. Moonjo was clever at hiding his true self behind that god-awful charismatic look of his.

“My jagiya has been in an awful mood lately, so of course it concerns me”, he grinned.

At the mention of the nickname, Jongwoo wanted to melt into the ground. He felt the redness tint his face.

As Jieun made a shocked face, Jaeho erupted into another burst of arrogant laughter. Jaeho’s hand gestured from Jongwoo to Moonjo in a mocking manner.

“Your jagiya, huh? Don’t be ridiculous! Jieun, did you hear what he just called Jongwoo?”, Jaeho continued laughing.

Jongwoo wanted to punch him, now more than ever.

Jieun laughed a little, though Jongwoo could see how uncomfortable she was.

“Oppa, leave them alone”, she begged, trying to keep Jaeho from reaching over the table even more.

Moonjo grinned at her. “Please, don’t act like you care about Jongwoo now”, he joked. Looking at Moonjo, Jongwoo could see the flickering amusement in his eyes, paired with an obvious glimmer of irritation.

At that, Jieun looked taken aback, and perhaps a little embarrassed. She recoiled at Jaeho’s side.

“Don’t act like you know him better than we do! We’ve known Jongwoo for more than six years!”, Jaeho huffed at Moonjo.

But Moonjo wasn’t thrown off his path. “No one knows Jongwoo better than me”, he mused, lips curling into another smirk.

Again, Jaeho laughed mockingly, grinning at Jieun as if they were in on a joke. He made a crude sexual gesture at the two of them before continuing his charade. “Oh, I can only guess you know him to great depths”, Jaeho laughed.

Jongwoo finally had enough. Now, not even Moonjo could calm his boiling anger at the prick in front of him. He stood up abruptly, nearly kicking his chair over. He threw his palms onto the table harshly.

Jongwoo barely kept himself from slapping Jaeho across the face, but alas, he managed to keep his hands balled into fists. Instead, he grabbed onto Moonjo and dragged the other man outside the café.

From the edge of his vision, he saw Moonjo turning back to stare at Jaeho again, expression showing none of the playfulness of before.

As they made their way outside the building, Jongwoo sighed with relief. Then, he turned to face Moonjo who had already put on another one of his awful grins.

“Why did you come here?”, he huffed in annoyance. Sure, he didn’t mind Moonjo coming in to help him, but he was horribly confused. Moonjo had no reason to do so.

But the other just stood there calmy. “You shouldn’t let him trample all over you.”

“But why did you help me?”, Jongwoo continued aggravated. Why couldn’t Moonjo just answer his questions properly?

“Because I know you wouldn’t act on your true emotions. But you should jagiya”, Moonjo now answered, his hand reaching to touch Jongwoo’s shoulder in an oddly comforting way.

Jongwoo wanted to say something back, but he felt tongue-tied at the other’s words.

Instead, he just mumbles a quiet ‘thank you’.

Moonjo’s smile turns softer, and he leans down a little to whisper into Jongwoo’s ear. “Aren’t you glad I’ve been following you?”, he mused.

Before Jongwoo could respond, he heard Jaeho stomping through the café doors. He looked as angry as he sounded.

“If you two could keep your hands off each other, Jongwoo should continue talking with us”, he snapped at them.

Jaeho grabbed Moonjo, turning him around forcibly. But the moment Moonjo directed his dark stare at him again, Jaeho visibly shook a little. He took another step back, which Jongwoo could only laugh at.

‘How wonderful to see Jaeho like this’, Jongwoo grinned mentally. It did make him feel a lot better. Even if he was still angry at Moonjo.

“Now, I don’t think Jongwoo wants to stay any longer with you”, Moonjo grinned deviously, then moving to look at the other.

Jongwoo nodded, definitely not wanting to go back to sit with Jieun and Jaeho. “Yes, I think I’ll leave now”, he announced, and grabbed Moonjo to drag him away from Jaeho’s grip.

Moonjo looked pleased with himself, as the two walked to the bus station. The chill of the late afternoon was quite pleasant, still Jongwoo couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and take a nap.

He felt oddly at ease, and this calm state of mind had him pondering about Moonjo’s offer from the day before.

Jongwoo was happy to be walking in front of him, so that Moonjo couldn’t glimpse at the blush on his face.

‘Am I really going to turn the offer down?’, Jongwoo thought, embarrassed that he reconsidered it. But frankly, Moonjo was awfully attractive and charismatic. He might be a bit eerie at times, but Jongwoo couldn’t deny how thoughtful and patient he proved to be.

“About your offer”, Jongwoo said, as they were seated in the bus.

He felt Moonjo turn to look at him again. However, Jongwoo kept his gaze trained on the city outside the window, not confident enough to look Moonjo in the eyes.

“Yes, jagi?”, the other responded. He could hear the outlines of his smirk. Moonjo was certainly aware of what Jongwoo was getting at – still, he needed to say it out loud.

“Is-Is it still on? I’d like to take it”, he spoke so fast he slurred the majority of his words, but Moonjo definitely heard it. He always did.

There was a soft hand reaching to draw circles across his shoulder blades in a soothing manner.

Jongwoo continued looking out the window. The blush was now creeping up his neck; he felt hot all over.

Moonjo’s fingers moved swiftly across his shoulders, like a tip-tapping motion.

“Oh, I could never refuse you, jagiya”, he whispered. It made the hairs on Jongwoo’s neck stand up. Whether it was excitement or terror, Jongwoo didn’t know.

---

What Jongwoo didn’t think to consider was how awfully clingy the other boy became. It was as if the two were adjoined by the shoulder, Moonjo constantly touching him as they walked up to their dorm.

‘Should I not have said anything?’, Jongwoo muttered. He felt self-conscious about his decision.

Moonjo was too close for comfort, keeping his body temperature high – so much that Jongwoo wondered if he maybe just developed a fever.

They walked up the last flight of stairs when he felt Moonjo’s hand reaching for his own. A warm palm slipped into his, and Jongwoo felt his doubts fly out the window at the way Moonjo gently tightened his grip.

As Jongwoo opened their door, everything happened in a blur. Jongwoo barely passed the entrance, as Moonjo pulled him closer by their joined hands. He locked the door which send another wave of shivers down his back.

Jongwoo felt hot, and then Moonjo was looking at him again. His gaze was soft yet unyielding. He moved their intertwined hands to cup Jongwoo’s cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”, he questioned, which threw Jongwoo in yet another loop.

He couldn’t focus on what was happening, and Jongwoo was aware of the way his knees nearly buckled. Moonjo didn’t even do anything, he simply asked for consent, and Jongwoo was already long gone.

‘Is it too late to back down now?’, he felt himself asking. But did he want to back down? He already came this far, so Jongwoo might as well let himself indulge in the other.

In addition, when was the last time he so much as kissed somebody?

“Yes”, he managed to answer without stuttering.

With an odd gentleness, Moonjo let him to his bed, before laying him down. Jongwoo was beyond confused – since when did Moonjo become so soft, like he was afraid of Jongwoo breaking apart?

That thought made the boiling sensation reappear again. He wasn’t a damsel in distress, he could hold his own, and he certainly didn’t need Moonjo to be soft with him.

But as soon as his back was completely against the mattress of the other’s bed and Moonjo crawled over him - straddling him - and giving him a gentle peck on the forehead, Jongwoo felt his body melt into a puddle. The gentleness didn’t last much longer – another peck on the tip of his nose.

Then, Jongwoo felt the air get knocked out, as Moonjo finally kissed him on the mouth. The other’s lips were warmer than expected and even if the kiss started out soft, Jongwoo soon felt the presence of the other’s teeth.

They were tugging at his lower lips, and in an unexpected turn of events, he suddenly felt Moonjo biting down on his lips – the same exact spot he previously bit. The sudden surge of pain made him cry out into the other’s mouth and wrap his arms around Moonjo’s neck.

It felt incredible, even if Moonjo’s and his saliva were now mixed with Jongwoo’s blood. Perhaps that was what made the experience even better. Still, Jongwoo was hard at work keeping his breathing steady.

After a while, Moonjo’s hands found their way into Jongwoo’s hair. The additional sensation of getting his hair pulled, together with the way Moonjo kissed him with such passion and fervor that Jongwoo wanted to cry. It felt odd to be wanted like this, it made him vulnerable.

He was overwhelmed, and so Jongwoo teared up a little. Moonjo only continued deepening the kiss, moving to cup Jongwoo’s face instead of gripping his hair. But as Moonjo suddenly started sucking the tip of his tongue, it all came crashing down on Jongwoo.

It truly was too much.

Not knowing how to break the kiss, Jongwoo’s dizzy and kiss-drunk mind came to the conclusion that he should reach to grab Moonjo’s hair tightly, and drag the other away from him by his hair.

As their mouths separated, albeit forcibly, Jongwoo took a deep breath of relief.

He figured he looked hot and bothered, especially with the way Moonjo was hazily smirking down at him. It seemed he didn’t mind the harsh grip on his hair keeping him in the air.

Jongwoo felt the hotness of his skin, the warm and pleasant sensation in his stomach, and the treacherous growing hardness in his pants. And even if he wanted to continue whatever they were doing, he was too overwhelmed – or perhaps scared – to do so. This thing needed vulnerability to work, and vulnerability was scary. It made Jongwoo’s bones feel itchy, it made him feel nauseous, even more so if he thought about intimacy with another boy.

“C-Can you get off?”, he muttered under his breath. Moonjo just continued to grin. It seemed like he was thoroughly amused at the other’s anguish.

“And please go take a shower to take care of –“, Jongwoo turned red as he felt the other’s obvious hardness against the fabric of his jeans. But he supposed Moonjo got the memo, as he laughingly got off the bed.

As the other moved to the bathroom – taking care of his problem, and Jongwoo felt even more ashamed of himself as he realized he could vaguely hear the other’s sounds despite the running water – Jongwoo laid there gazing at the ceiling.

Somehow, he already missed the taste of Moonjo on him. Jongwoo curled to his side, touching his lips embarrassed.

‘I can’t believe I’m genuinely thinking about kissing that awful smirking bastard again’, he groaned internally.

---

Several hours passed in a somewhat awkward silence. Jongwoo didn’t do so much as look in the other’s direction. Saying he was embarrassed was an understatement. Still, his swollen lower lip was an obvious reminder of what he had just done.

And to his disgust, he enjoyed the weird sensation of Moonjo biting him.

After a while, Jongwoo eventually changed into his pajamas and returned to bed, desperate to get as much sleep as possible. Just forgetting the stress and conflicting feelings he wanted to push into the furthest corners of his mind.

But he kept tossing and turning. It was hard to fall asleep with his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

Eventually he moves to look at Moonjo, who’s sitting on his bed with a book in his hands – as always, Moonjo had impeccable discipline, Jongwoo wanted to laugh. Then, Moonjo’s gaze followed his own, and their eyes met each other’s.

For a little while, they just stared at the other. Jongwoo found himself drowning out his own doubts, and as Moonjo ended their staring with a sigh, turning off his night light and moving towards him, Jongwoo felt his heart skip a beat.

The taller boy crouches next to his bed. Like a monster hiding underneath his bed, all dark and scary, but Jongwoo didn’t want to recoil again. Instead, he moved to grab the back of the other’s neck, moving him closer unconsciously. And Moonjo let him.

“Do you want me to sleep here tonight, jagiya?”, Moonjo asked, voice barely louder than a whisper. There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone – and the idea of Moonjo now also feeling comfortable enough with him made Jongwoo’s mind spin.

Jongwoo felt all of his walls crumble down as he nodded.

And as Moonjo slipped beneath his covers, Jongwoo was sure he had made the right decision.

It seemed almost comical, the way that Moonjo became soft enough to bend and mold whenever he was around Jongwoo. Calling him such endearing nicknames, touching only as gentle and soft as he could; it was such an odd contrast to his dark and looming presence.

But the softness ceased whenever he needed to protect Jongwoo, which made Jongwoo just slip further into the other’s force of gravity. Perhaps this was what Moonjo played into from the beginning, but Jongwoo doubted that was the case. Moonjo wasn’t a calculated psychopath, as much as his appearance resembled it.

Moonjo wrapped his arms around him, pulling the two closer. Jongwoo lazily cuddled into the other’s broad chest, enjoying the warm embrace. It felt safe, and like he could do anything if he was held by Moonjo – even be vulnerable.

Jongwoo didn’t have nightmares that night.

Chapter Text

October passed by like a calming breeze.

In a way, the odd sense of tranquility between him and Moonjo made anxiety rise up in Jongwoo. He hadn’t felt so good in so long.

Despite the routinely occurring movie nights every Friday, where they usually watched crime thrillers or badly made horror flicks, and the intensified amount of physical touch, things never went beyond heated kisses.

Although, the press of Moonjo’s body against his, eliciting little fires all over Jongwoo’s body, and the feel of their tongues touching usually left the latter yearning for more.

But alas, he pushed the desire down every single time.

The only thing that still unnerved him, was the frequency with which he was seeing Moonjo. He still felt like a shadow trailing behind him, like he followed him everywhere Jongwoo went. Or was it really just Jongwoo’s imagination playing tricks on him?

After he had seen Moonjo again at Itaewon when he visited with Seokyoon to celebrate the other’s extraordinary exam result, Jongwoo still forced himself to blame the alcohol. Sure, he hadn’t drunken that much, but recently, the stress of university added to his low alcohol tolerance.

He had probably been drunk. It was most likely a hallucination. In fact, a lot of people look similar to Moonjo, Jongwoo thought.

However, it wasn’t an individual occurrence.

One day, Jongwoo went out with his class to an exhibition on English literature on the seemingly other side of Seoul. It was pouring, but they were inside the exhibition hall the entire time anyway.

Thus, Jongwoo’s heart might have beaten out of his chest, when he turned to look through the class window and glimpse a darkly haired, tall figure standing in the rain. The figure held a red umbrella in his hand, one that looked identical to Moonjo’s.

But that wasn’t a solid enough reason, anyone could have that umbrella.

Then, he saw him again when he went to the city’s public library with Seokyoon. And again, when the two of them visited the new mall.

Every time Jongwoo saw a head of dark fluffy hair amongst the crowd, he imagined Moonjo, he has to. It’s definitely just his dumb crush, and he’d like it if Moonjo was trailing him around.

Yet, even with all of his reasoning, the anxious feeling in his stomach never really went away.

“I should probably just get more sleep”, Jongwoo mumbled, massaging his temples as he flopped into the library seat.

As the weather got colder and the days shorter, the stress and lack of sleep really got to him, he supposed. And concentrating was not a question in his dorm, he simply couldn’t do anything with that awful specter in his room.

So, Junghwa, who had come crawling back apologetically not long after the incident, invited him to meet up in the library, so they could study.

Frankly, the impending exams didn’t make Jongwoo feel better about his situation, so he agreed. Plus, his ability to cut contact with people who’ve done him wrong in the past has never been the best.

“Well, I can assure you, you’ve looked better”, Junghwa sat down opposite of him. She quirked her eyebrows, and then added “healthier”.

Jongwoo grimaced at her. “How sweet.”

Junghwa laughed a little, before flapping her hands at him to start working. “Now, let’s do what we came here to do. You have two exams next week, so get going”, she mused.

“You’re not my mom…”, Jongwoo grinned. Then, he moved to throw his books onto the table – but he wouldn’t start actually working unless he could goad Junghwa into buying coffee for the both of them.

“Please, I’m very sleep deprived… coffee would work wonders, I promise”, he pleaded, noticing how Junghwa feigned a look of disgust.

But she was already up before complaining about his antics. “What was that about me not being your mom?”, she tsked, although she ended up going to the coffee shop on the corridor.

Jongwoo grinned to himself, looking down at one of his books. “I guess I really have to start studying”, he murmured.

Outside, rain began ricocheting softly against the windows. Like white noise accompanying him.

Soon, Junghwa returned – and with a cup of hot coffee fueling him, Jongwoo already felt a lot better.

Two hours passed in blissful silence, Jongwoo taking notes on the literary era he was reading about, quickly finishing his coffee. Junghwa had moved on to wearing headphones, while Jongwoo was more than content with the noise the steady rain made.

“By the way, I saw your roommate on campus the other day”, Junghwa spoke after a while. It was now almost 10pm, and Jongwoo knew it would be a long night.

“Well, he’s pretty diligent. I swear, I’ve never seen him skip classes”, Jongwoo answered. Moonjo might be eerie and weird sometimes, but he was definitely the epitome of a perfect student. ‘Surely his parents are proud of him’, Jongwoo thought.

Junghwa sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Yeah, he seems the type. No, but the way he looked at me was weird. It seemed like he was invisible to everybody else, and just stared at me”, she shuddered, although it felt more like a theatrical finish to her story.

Jongwoo smiled a little. “Don’t worry, that’s just … him. He’s a bit weird I guess”, Jongwoo elaborated. Why he didn’t want Junghwa to think bad of Moonjo, he didn’t really know.

Again, the woman in front of him nodded. “But … alright, I’ve been meaning to ask you”, Junghwa put her books to the side.

At that action, Jongwoo tensed up a little, albeit unconsciously. “Well, ask away”, he mumbled.

“I- Are you and Moonjo, you know … a thing?”, Junghwa posed after some more time.

Nearly in an instant, Jongwoo felt his face grow redder. “N-No? Why are you even thinking about that? We’re barely getting along at the moment”, he lied a little.

Junghwa nodded, this time with a vague sense of relief.

“Oh, alright. I’ve just been hearing some people say you two have been quite close recently, and wanted to hear it from you”, she explained.

Now there was a tenseness to the air around them, and Jongwoo was sure Junghwa could feel it.

“I’m glad… I’ll get us some more coffee, if that’s alright?”, Jongwoo mumbled, wanting to get away from the awkwardness.

He nearly ran to the coffee shop, and ordered two cups of americano, one with ice.

And as he looked through the windows, that gave way to the city lights and the streets, he swear he could see the red umbrella again. But only a fleeting moment, then there was nobody.

Jongwoo kept his eyes trained on the outside, but to no avail. He just went back to Junghwa with their coffee in hand.

He’d simply avoid the topic surrounding Moonjo, for the time being.

Junghwa and him ended up proposing to wait out the rain, as it continued to grow heavier. But hours passed, and there was no end in sight. At least Jongwoo managed to study properly, he even made flash cards and mind maps.

Still, it was nearing midnight, and both him and Junghwa had class in the morning.

“We should probably just go back to the dorms”, Junghwa muttered after a while, yawing in between her words.

Neither of them however had an umbrella and paying for a taxi to take them to the dormitory several kilometers away felt useless.

“I guess we’ll be drenched by the time we’ll reach our dorm building, huh?”, Jongwoo proposed bitterly to which Junghwa laughingly agreed.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t made of sugar, no?”, she retaliated.

---

Jongwoo however, was pretty sure he was actually made of sugar. Not only was he freezing in the light clothes that now clung to his skin, but he was drenched in rainwater, and could almost feel the cold settling in his bones.

“I’m seriously debating if I should stay in tomorrow”, Junghwa bit out through chittering teeth. They reached the staircase in front of Jongwoo’s dormitory, and even if it didn’t rain as heavily anymore, both of them were glad to escape into the warmth.

“Text me when you get home”, Jongwoo said, as he rushed up to the entrance of the building, giving Junghwa one last smile before closing the door.

He was definitely shivering, and his fingers felt like they were dipped into icy water.

‘Just a couple of minutes’, he mused as he dragged himself up the stairs, ‘then I can spend the next 12 hours in bed and sleep.’

In a swift move, he unlocks the door, and passes the threshold of the door.

Almost stumbling into the room, he shivers relieved at the warm air. It’s dark inside, safe for the light streaming in from the street. Jongwoo hangs up his jacket next to the door, kicking his shoes off as well.

Frankly, he’s ready to take a hot shower and go to bed. So, the second he locks the door again, Jongwoo’s hands fly to the fly of his pants.

Albeit a little clumsily, he hops out of his jeans, throwing them vaguely in the direction of his bed. Followed by first his left, then his right sock.

Only when Jongwoo was halfway done with taking his clinging sweatshirt off, face covered by the fabric, did he hear a deep harrumph from one of the room’s corners.

Heat rose to his face as he realized what that sound meant. Or was it just another hallucination?

“Jagi, I’d never have imagined this, but do continue”, the voice, deeper than usually continued.

Now, his blush was firmly present on Jongwoo’s face. Even his ears felt red-hot. The hair on his arms and nape stood upright. Slowly but surely, Jongwoo lowered his hands, embarrassed through and through.

‘How did I not see Moonjo? Did he hide from me?’, Jongwoo wailed internally.

Like a cornered prey, Jongwoo walked a little backwards, as he saw that Moonjo was in fact just sitting on his bed, lamp on his bedside table turned on dimly. In the feint light, the older guy’s smile looked almost wicked.

The moment’s shock passed with the two staring at each other. And the shivering returned again, as Jongwoo’s body seemed to recognize the state it was in. He even felt his teeth chittering loudly.

Now, Moonjo’s grin morphed into something else as he stood to reach for the other.

“Everything alright? Did you not have an umbrella with you, dear?”, he whispered, voice riddled with concern. Jongwoo managed to shake his head softly through the shivers racking his body.

Moonjo came even closer, his broad, tall form falling around Jongwoo like a shield.

“Oh you’re icy”, Moonjo remarked upon touching the other, but for Jongwoo the coldness was soon replaced by a pleasant warmth radiating from Moonjo. Odd, considering how he’s usually cold.

As if reading Jongwoo’s thoughts, Moonjo mumbled “I just took a hot shower” into the crown of his hair.

Then, he felt the other moving to rest his head in the crook of Jongwoo’s neck. Jongwoo tensed up a little, his mind drifting to Junghwa’s words. The of them weren’t … a thing. But somehow, Jongwoo wasn’t opposed to it.

He felt a wet kiss against the side of his neck, followed by something a little more intense, tongue swiping across the agitated skin after he sensed what were clearly Moonjo’s teeth bite it.

“W-What?”, Jongwoo tried to move his head, ceasing Moonjo’s shenanigans.

The other grinned lazily at him, the air of wickedness returning to Moonjo’s facial features. “Did you not like that?”, he asked softly.

That made Jongwoo’s mind turn a little hazy. “Ye-No”, he mumbled. Then, he gulped, looking downwards. Up again.

“Actually, you can”, his throat felt stupidly dry, “ you can continue.”

This in turn, made Moonjo’s grin turn devilish. He didn’t need to be told twice, yet this time, Moonjo returned to kissing his lips. Jongwoo stumbled a little again, and to secure his footing, Moonjo pushed the other to stand against the door.

It did knock the breath out of Jongwoo a little, but the gasp was sufficient enough for Moonjo to push his tongue into the other’s mouth. Suddenly, the wall behind his back was utterly welcome to Jongwoo, who could feel his legs turn jelly the deeper Moonjo kissed him.

And then, just barely saving himself from letting out a gasping moan, Jongwoo stopped the kiss once more. He was still very cold, and very much shivering.

Then, he sneezed, turning away as to not get germs up in Moonjo’s face.

Moonjo however only cradles his face softly. Jongwoo’s cheeks only redden more at the touch.

Or was he really coming down with a fever?

“Jagiya”, Moonjo’s voice was like a drag, “you have to take better care of yourself.”

Jongwoo chuckled a little – perhaps the cold was really getting to him, he felt a little fuzzy. “You’re one to talk”, he poked Moonjo’s chest with his index finger, registering the amused expression on the other.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually sleep, and you’re always working!”, Jongwoo said, trying his best to sound strong.

For Moonjo, an aspiring dentist, Jongwoo was surprised to see how little effect his unhealthy habits had on him.

“Darling, we’re in university. That’s not so odd”, Moonjo grinned down at him, using his additional inches of height to loom over the younger.

Jongwoo tsked. “Yeah, but you’re really pushing it. Also, I’ve rarely seen you eat apropos of eating with me”, he continued his charade.

Now Moonjo stopped grinning, but his expression still seemed amused, not annoyed.

“It’s a bit of a habit”, he confessed, voice now edging on vulnerability.

“What do you mean by that?”, Jongwoo gasped, a little surprised at the odd tone.

Moonjo’s eyes pierced into his own, as if it was his only lifeline to hang onto.

“I- I grew up in an orphanage you know”, he now whispered – a stark contrast to all of the other moments Jongwoo has seen Moonjo in.

“And there was this lady, who’s like a mother to me. She was sweet, but strict. She told me about my biological mother, and how she abandoned me. And as I grew older, I knew the lady at the orphanage would forget about me too, why would she care, if I was just one of a hundred other kids. So, I tried to be perfect. Doing everything they told me to”, Moonjo mumbled.

Now, the vulnerability and fear in his voice was there clear as day. Jongwoo almost reached to mirror the gentle gesture from before, and stroke Moonjo’s check. Anything to rid himself of the guilt.

Guilt about what, he didn’t know.

And Moonjo just looked so much smaller than ever before.

“But it all just made it worse. I never ate more than I was supposed to, I never slacked off. I was always on the edge, scared I could lose their favor”, Moonjo continued.

“You know, there were days where I’d felt like snapping at any moment, too wrung out from the hunger, and the fatigue, and the fear of it all.”

Now, the voice turned sour.

“Snapping?”, Jongwoo asked, although he really didn’t want to know.

“I wanted to kill them. Drag them all to the basement and peel their teeth out one by one. Have them fear me, watch the light in their eyes fade away as I finally allow them to die”, he muttered.

Jongwoo gulped. His other hand came up to drag through Moonjo’s hair, attempting to be a soothing force to him.

Moonjo’s eyes turned a little watery, before he turned around entirely.

“I- sorry. That was uncalled for. Let’s get you to bed, before you actually get a cold”, he said, keeping his voice steady.

‘You don’t have to put the façade up when you’re with me’, Jongwoo wanted to say, but alas, he’d always preferred the easier route.

And he really wanted to go to bed and sleep.

---

The next morning, Jongwoo continued avoiding the topic of last night. He already suffered a pounding headache, and the cold had worsened over the course of the night. And to his relief, Moonjo was not in the room upon waking up.

He supposed the other had to study for his upcoming exams. Or ignore the issue as well.

Either way, Jongwoo was not opposed to focusing on his own studies, and thereby keeping to himself.

Their days went by quite monotonously. Jongwoo woke up early, went to his classes, ate lunch and continued studying for the majority of his afternoon. If anything, Moonjo and him would exchange a quick ‘good morning’, and order dinner together.

Jongwoo was however a little intrigued as to why Moonjo kept to himself so much, considering he loved annoying the younger. Although, Moonjo was very disciplined, more than enough to understand the importance of exams over their stupid banter.

If he was honest, the idea that everything would be put on hold so quickly after their odd occurrence of vulnerability made Jongwoo’s heart beat a little faster and his lips quiver in anxiety.

Thus, he decided to share his roommate’s discipline.

However, one week later, after he’d finished his last exam, Jongwoo was reminded that his life did in fact consist of other aspects apart from studying. Specifically, of Moonjo.

“Hey, hyung!”, a chirpy voice yelled after him, followed by a slap on Jongwoo’s back. He rolled his eyes in a fond annoyance, turning around to face Seokyoon.

“How are you still this energetic after exams?”, he laughed. Teenagers were certainly a scary bunch of folk. Even if Seokyoon was barely half a year younger than him.

Seokyoon laughed at that, flapping his hands around as he attempted to continue talking again.

“You’re just getting old hyung” – he ducked away from Jongwoo’s fist half-heartedly punching in his direction – “No, I wanted to ask if you had plans for tonight?”

“Nope, I’m appalled you’d think I do”, Jongwoo snickered.

The two of them walked out the main building together, basking in the late October sun. Despite his exam, Jongwoo actually felt quite good, although he had chugged nearly three entire cups of coffee a couple hours prior. Maybe he’d crash in a bit.

“Well then, what do you say about going to a bar together? Maybe some karaoke?”, Seokyoon asked.

Jongwoo pondered the offer for some minutes. He should probably get out a little, after spending the past few days couped up in his dorm room. Plus, he liked hanging out with Seokyoon, the rascal was a lot of fun.

“Hmmm”, Jongwoo pretended to think hard about whether or not to go. (He was already set on going)

Seokyoon tightened the grip on his arm, pushing further into Jongwoo’s personal space.

“Hyunng”, he wailed. “I’ll even pay for our drinks, alright?”

‘Well, if you put it like that…’, Jongwoo mused in his head.

“Sure, I’ll come. Are you going to text me the address?”, he asked. And Seokyoon nodded happily, fitting his image of a puppy.

---

Upon entering his own dorm, Jongwoo was greeted by the sight of Moonjo sitting in the middle of the room, putting together what looked like an Ikea shelf.

Jongwoo had to snort at the sight. “Is that your after-exam destressing routine, or-“, he joked, closing the door behind him.

The older guy’s head snapped up in surprise, and Jongwoo could have sworn he glimpsed a faint flustered look on the other. But that was replaced quickly by Moonjo’s usual grin.

“I’ll have to disappoint you jagi. This is for your stack of books that you can’t seem to organize”, he explained, pointing next to Jongwoo’s bed, where several stacks of books were littered.

Jongwoo frowned. “As if you’re building me a shelf”, he tsked, now walking over to sit down opposite of the other.

“Jagiya, I’m just trying to contain the chaos on your side of the room”, Moonjo mused, grin turning awfully pleased with himself.

Jongwoo crossed his arms.

In fact, the view of Moonjo, his hair slightly tussled, building a shelf together on the floor of their room was oddly charming to him. And perhaps, the domesticity got to him and meddled with his tired brain, because the next words coming out of his words were contenders for the worst thing he’s ever said.

“I’m going out tonight, with Seokyoon. To celebrate our exams ending. You wanna join us?”

Moonjo stilled at that, moving his head up to make eye-contact with Jongwoo.

The intense stare, looking into the older’s terrifyingly dark eyes, was enough for Jongwoo to lose himself.

Then, the smile returned to Moonjo’s face again, an odd juxtaposition of complacency and tenderness. It nearly punched the air out of Jongwoo’s lungs, his throat rendered dry.

“S-Sorry, you probably have other things to do”, Jongwoo whispered, embarrassed as his hand moved to scratch the back of his own head. His eyes broke Moonjo’s stare, frantically moving about before landing on the floor.

Now, Moonjo was the one to chuckle. He reached to cup Jongwoo’s jaw and turn the other’s gaze at him again.

“Never, darling. I’d be happy to join you two”, the raw emotion in his voice was enough to make Jongwoo double guess his decision to invite the older man.

“Uh yeah, I just- I’ll just tell Seokyoon”, Jongwoo moved to elude Moonjo’s touch, as well as drink some water to regain confidence in his words again.

Jongwoo, 3:30 pm
Hey, sorry to not ask you beforehand, but could Moonjo come along? He doesn’t seem to go out much either, and I felt kinda bad

Seokyoon, 3:42 pm
Oh don’t worry, the more the merrier :PP

---

Just past 8pm, Jongwoo and Moonjo found themselves in front of a bar 15 minutes away from campus.

The closer they had gotten, the more Jongwoo was worried about meeting up with Seokyoon. Him and Moonjo hadn’t met properly before, and he was sure the two might have difficulties getting along.

Moonjo being … well Moonjo, a bit creepy and weird at times, and as straight forward as nobody Jongwoo’s ever met. And Seokyoon was just a lot more emotional, extroverted and energetic.

Jongwoo gulped as Moonjo opened the bar’s door for him, submerging both of them in a dim red-pink lightning.

‘Everything’s going to be fine, stop worrying’, Jongwoo thought to himself, pushing his worries down as far as possible.

Moonjo smiled down at him but opted to stay quiet. Until a loud voice alerted the two of them.

“Hey! There you are!”, Seokyoon gleamed, coming up to envelop Jongwoo in a hug. Jongwoo, looking straight at Moonjo as Seokyoon nearly threw him over, wanted to grimace at the other’s sour expression.

Moving away from each other again, Seokyoon lead the pair to their shared table. He didn’t hug Moonjo, and it seemed like the other was more than glad about it. His expression continued being solemn, and Jongwoo thought it was a bit comical to be so stoic in the loud and energetic environment they were in.

“I already ordered some soju”, Seokyoon explained, sitting down. “Oh, and some snacks.”

The three sat with each other for a while, although it was mostly Seokyoon and Jongwoo talking animatedly together, Moonjo watching the both of them. He sipped his soju steadily, whereas the younger guys almost took turns one-shoting their glasses.

Jongwoo was sitting opposite of Moonjo, next to Seokyoon, who happily joined in with the music they played. Jongwoo wanted to take a picture, it was so endearing. Then, after a while the youngest looked like he suddenly remembered something incredibly important, his body language immediately stiffening a little.

“Oh, wait!”, he shouted, bumping his knee on the table. Jongwoo caught Moonjo chuckling softly at that, albeit low and barely there.

“I forgot to say, I’m actually performing here!”, Seokyoon continued, now hushing Jongwoo to get up so that he could run over to the stage.

Jongwoo himself held onto Seokyoon to keep the other from stumbling and face-planting into the floor.

“Hey, take it easy. Should we move closer to the stage?”, Jongwoo asked. But Seokyoon only shook his head enthusiastically.

“No, no. Your table is perfect”, he slurred the last word, “just watch me. I’m gonna rock it!”

Giggling, Seokyoon bid them goodbye, and moved to the stage. He barely drank anything, yet the alcohol must have gotten to him already. Although, Seokyoon was overly dramatic and energetic everyday of the week.

As he left, Jongwoo snickered to himself and turned over to look at Moonjo again.

“God, he’s so-“, resuming eye-contact with the other, Jongwoo fell silent.

Moonjo’s gaze was trained intently on him, and while his eyes were piercing, black orbs he could get lost in if he wasn’t careful, his grin bore a softness to it.

“Ah, finally some quiet”, Moonjo mumbled, now downing the rest of his glass.

Jongwoo gulped, now at a loss for words. He took another sip of his own glass.

Then, he felt the other’s foot move to softly touch his own. At the sensation, Jongwoo looked at Moonjo, brows furrowed.

“What are you doing?”, he inquired. His foot now ran up Jongwoo’s calf, while the grin on Moonjo’s face enlarged. Jongwoo felt a little hot, though he was glad the atmospheric lightning of the club hid his blush.

Then, Moonjo’s other foot came up to nudge the other side of his leg.

At that, Jongwoo barely kept himself from taking a spit-take. “A-Are you playing footsies with me?”, he laughed under his breath, leaning forward to avoid screaming through the loud music.

The older mirrored his actions, and they found themselves some centimeters apart from each other. Jongwoo was sure Moonjo could smell the scent of soju off him. But then again, Moonjo smelled of his charming cologne and faintly of alcohol as well.

Jongwoo searched for Moonjo’s eyes, drowning out their surrounding to the best of his abilities.

Then, Moonjo drew in a little closer. It was tempting. Moonjo was tempting him with the apple of Eden, and despite his conscience, Jongwoo was but a gullible man.

Still, they were in public. It wasn’t something they could afford, so with a burning blush on his cheeks, Jongwoo pulled away in a swift move. He turned to look at Seokyoon singing with his friends on the stage.

He didn’t want to see Moonjo’s facial expression. Needless to say, Jongwoo felt his heart strings being pulled as he realized that Moonjo stopped holding back with the alcohol from that point on ward. It was like he downed one glass after the other, the liquor only getting stronger as the night went on.

It was impressive how much he could drink, yet Jongwoo couldn’t help but worry about the older.

---

The next morning, Jongwoo woke up to a strained cough from the bed across from him.

Of course, he rolled his eyes, as he turned around in bed. The room was still partially dark, although the sun seemed to have risen already.

Through the light casting through the window curtains, Jongwoo could see the shaking form hidden beneath a blanket, back turned to him on Moonjo’s bed.

His own tired eyes searched for his alarm clock. It was 9:30 am – thank God he didn’t have classes this morning – and Moonjo was never in bed this late. He moved to sit up, groggily rubbing his eyes. He was reminded of how much he had drunken as he did this, suddenly overcome with a vague dizziness.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, his own voice still groggy from sleep.

No answer. At least not if you don’t count another coughing fit, that shook the body and had him roll over onto his back.

At this, Jongwoo wanted to deadpan, roll his eyes, and  take out a 50 slide PowerPoint presentation on how idiotic Moonjo could sometimes be.

Instead, he laughed a little, hoping to shine his annoyance through. “Don’t tell me you’re actually sick”, Jongwoo joked.

This time Moonjo groaned, curling into a ball almost. It was a little endearing.

“You’re horrible. Why did you drink so much? Were you jealous?”, he continued, a sneer now clearly present in Jongwoo’s voice.

He got up completely, moving to the bathroom. He wasn’t that evil as too nag Moonjo when the other was sick. At least not yet.

So, he grabbed some medicine from the bathroom cabinet, and tossed it at Moonjo’s bed.

“Here, some medicine. Just drink a lot of water and stay in bed. You’ll be fine”, Jongwoo mused.

Again, Moonjo responded with a sleepy, painstaking whine. Jongwoo almost laughed at the other.

“Do- don’t make fun of me”, Moonjo graveled, voice barely above a whisper. Now, he turned back around to lie on his back.

He stared nearly lifelessly at the ceiling, body stiff as a board. Jongwoo, now standing in the middle of the room, a little astonished at whatever was happening (and he had time to kill until his next class), so he opted to lay his hand flush onto Moonjo’s forehead.

“You’re hot”, he mumbled, the strikingly high temperature even more unusual given his usual coldness.

Moonjo attempted to pull his cheeky grin at the remark, albeit with a painfully expression accompanying it. At this Jongwoo flicked his forehead. “Not like that, stop it”, he hissed.

Then he moved back into the bathroom, and emerged with a cold, wet towel.

“You’re a literal child”, Jongwoo grumbled as he gently put the towel onto Moonjo’s forehead, hoping to lower his fever.

And he couldn’t help but hear a voice in the back of his head telling him that Moonjo was very much enjoying this treatment right now. The other grinned through his unusual state of self, and Jongwoo was just nice enough to not deck him in the head and make him sleep by force.

His day was spent rather uneventful, aside from the one class he had after lunch. Moonjo somehow made him not mad that he was taking care of him the entire day, changing the wet towels, making him tea, forcing him to take medicine and sleeping next to the other’s bed so that Moonjo would stop complaining about feeling “too alone and cold to sleep”.

Chapter Text

November did not start out well for Jongwoo.

Between barely hanging on from exam stress and the dreadfully cold and dark weather making his depressive episode worse, running into Jaeho really was the cherry on the metaphorical cake.

It’s  a relatively sunny day for the beginning of November, and Jongwoo has taken to go on a walk through the near-by park, earphones in to blast music on full volume. But the music was not quite loud enough to drown out Jaeho sitting on one of the benches, visibly having exercised.

He was wearing athleisure wear, a bottle of water on his lips.

Still, Jongwoo could simply rush past and pretend he never saw the other man. God knows he’d love to do just that.

“Jongwoo?”, but apparently luck was not on his side today, and Jaeho had called for him before Jongwoo could disappear from his vicinity. Now it would make him look even more like the bad guy if he made a run for it.

With a sigh, he stopped, picking out his earphones for politeness’ sake and turned on his heel to face Jaeho.

“Good morning, hyung”, he pressed forward, gritting his teeth to form a small smile. The hyung hadn’t left his mouth in a while, Jongwoo was so used to cussing Jaeho out behind his back or simply not addressing him directly. A sour feeling was left behind in his mouth.

The other man chuckled, looking down on Jongwoo over the elevated bridge of his nose.

“Oh, don’t be so sour. It’s a great day out, isn’t it?”, he retaliated, leaning back on the bench. His foot tapped loudly against the gravelly ground. It made an annoying sound.

A high pitched tap tap that made Jongwoo want to rip his hair out.

“I’m not here to make small talk with you, hyung”, he deadpanned, pronouncing the hyung ever so hardly to underline his superficial respect. In the palm of his hand, Jongwoo clutched his earphones tighter.

Jaeho now stood up, hands in the air as if feigning his own properness.

“Jongwoo-ya, I was just trying to be polite. But it’s not news to me that you’ve got issues with manners”, he joked, now walking closer to Jongwoo, attempting to use the slight height difference between the two of them to intimidate the younger man.

The act made Jongwoo roll his fist in tighter.

‘Look who’s talking you fucking bastard’, he sneered in his mind, trying to keep his facial expression neutral. He bit his lips, not wanting to scowl nor grin like a madman.

Getting into a fist fight in the middle of the week at midday was not on his to-do list for the day, and he also did not fancy getting his hands dirty.

“In fact, you should learn some manners. You’re awfully rude to Jieun, believing that she belongs to you or whatever”, Jaeho continued to preach, face looking ever so punchable to Jongwoo.

In the other’s eyes was an arrogant glint, but Jongwoo supposed it could very well be the reflection of the sun in his pupil. Although, Jaeho surely considered himself the sun’s equal in terms of prowess and radiance.

Instead of vocalizing his anger through his fists, Jongwoo scoffed, biting his already irritated lips.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t just sleep with her to mess with me. You know I like her, and you’ve humiliated me about it more than once”, Jongwoo bit out. Jaeho disgusted him, and he knew he was too proud of himself to admit his jealousy nor any wrongdoings of his.

Not surprisingly, Jaeho deflected with a shocked laughter.

“So, now you’re blaming me?”, another scoff, and at the other’s theatrical behaviour, Jongwoo was content with the few people actually present in the park. Jongwoo crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto one foot to further listen to Jaeho.

“You’re blaming me for being too insecure about your feelings? Jieun is a gorgeous woman, and I am not blind to her beauty”, he laughed, as if Jongwoo’s words were cutting through the very core of his personality.

Which they probably were. Jaeho was barely more than an arrogant, conceited carcass of a man, held together by his parents’ money and the attention he was getting.

Jongwoo grimaced for the blink of an eye, regaining his neutral expression as quickly as possible.

“How insightful you are to reduce her to her appearance. And you’ve never been known to be faithful, so Jieun really deserves better than you”, Jongwoo retaliated, interested in getting a rise out of Jaeho for the time being.

“Wouldn’t be great for your narcissistic retelling of this relationship if Jieun broke up with you over you sleeping with another woman, huh? Maybe you should learn how to keep it in your pants, if you want to talk about manners.”

At his words, Jaeho barked out another shocked grand sound of laughter.

“Are you serious? That was a fucking compliment, I’m sure you’ve never heard of them before. And to your information, I’m the best she’s ever had, nor ever will. What good would it do me to chase after another person if I’m together with her? She’s more than interested in keeping me satisfied, so why would I?”, he stalked up to Jongwoo, attempting to look big and scary, but only making it harder for Jongwoo to conceal his amused grin tinged with disgust for the choice of Jaeho’s words.

Jaeho was breaking apart like an eggshell.

“Jieun deserves me, not you or your childish fantasies. I can offer her money, status and the masculinity she needs in her life”, Jaeho continued. He puffed out his chest proudly, looking more and more like a caricature of himself.

Jongwoo chuckled a little.

Jaeho looked him up and down, a disgusted stare in his eyes. “And you, what could you offer her?”, he asked, voice bitter and sharp.

With a theatrical shrug of his shoulders, Jongwoo tried to keep his distance to the other. Jaeho was getting a little too close for comfort. “Probably not call her a whore, but I suppose you know how to woo the ladies”, Jongwoo kept up the glaring contest.

The air started to feel prickly between them, like all it took for a fight to break out was another cleverly worded sentence.

Jongwoo noted that the few people still in the park did not go near them.

“Hah, you smug bastard”, Jaeho scoffed belittlingly. His face was alit with fury, and it was certainly a sight worth watching.

“You’re too weak to be her man, not ambitious enough. And you’re too poor to care for her properly”, Jaeho chuckled again in a disdainful manner, “Really, if it weren’t for your creepy sugar daddy keeping you afloat financially, you couldn’t even afford the dirt beneath my fucking shoes.”

A spurt of laughter erupted from Jongwoo. He might have spit a little onto Jaeho’s horribly self-satisfied face.

In fact, Jaeho indicating Moonjo to be his sugar daddy was nothing out of the extraordinary. Jongwoo couldn’t care less. If Jaeho was so obsessed with his supposed queer dating life, then that was an issue he had to solve on his own.

“If that’s as low as you need to go to get an insult against me, you’ve got a bigger stick up your ass than I thought”, Jongwoo retaliated, stepping towards Jaeho with an accusatory finger in the air.

“And while we’re at it, I’m telling you once and for all that we’re not friends”, he sneered. “Sure, get with Jieun, I hope she dumps your ass when she realizes what a prick you truly are.”

Slap.

A hand collided with his left cheek, leaving a stinging pain behind. Jaeho had slapped him.

“Who do you think you are, talking to your elders like that?”, Jaeho yelled, voice raspy now. Several people turned around, though they were too far away to hear their conversation.

Jongwoo’s hand touched the reddening bruise, it would definitely be visible for a couple of days. It hurt a little, but the shock of Jaeho’s eruption was what distressed him more.

So he punched him back, right fist landing square in Jaeho’s mouth. He wanted to rupture the blood vessels in his nose, watch him bleed and maybe whimper pathetically.

“Watch your mouth, hyung”, he mocked, looking down on Jaeho keeping himself balanced while crouching on the floor. “I’m leaving. Have a good day.”

---

His cheek still hurt after he had bought an ice pack to lay over it.

Jongwoo was lying splayed on top of his bed, listening to a podcast they had discussed in class, grateful for the stray moment of silence as Moonjo was still away.

The name was accompanied by a string of thoughts. ‘Maybe Jaeho was a little too crude calling Moonjo my sugar daddy. We’re not even together like that’, Jongwoo mused. Although, in actuality, Jaeho probably just wanted to unnerve him without any clear intention behind his words.

With a sigh, Jongwoo turned around to face the wall before the podcast streaming from his phone was interrupted by a dinging notification sound.

He received a message.

A hint of confusion and interest on his face, Jongwoo turned again to reach for his phone. It bore a comfortable weight in his hands. But the message made Jongwoo overcome with a sudden sense of nausea and anxiety.

‘Why is she texting me?’, he wondered, fingers tentatively hovering over the screen, not knowing whether or not to press the notification.

Eomma, 2:38 pm
Hey, Jongwoo, is everything alright in Seoul?

His mother hadn’t bothered to really talk with him since he left their apartment in Busan. A row of dots came up on his mother’s kakaotalk icon , indicating her continuing to write messages. Jongwoo did not respond, only gaze at the bright screen in hope of good news.

Eomma, 2:40 pm
Me and your brother are doing alright, I suppose. It’s just, money is a little tight, you know… The hospital sent us another envelope

As always, it was about money.

Jongwoo sighed, a sound that came from the deepest melancholy in his heart. Not wanting to think about his mother, he turned off the display.

The podcast resumed, talking about literature, but Jongwoo’s mind was too vivid to pay attention to it. There was a permanent static running in his mind, not allowing any thoughts, not allowing any worries.

---

The next day, Junghwa had invited him to the library again.

His body was already aching once more. Mentally and physically, the day prior had drained him enough for the next few weeks. But alas, he had responsibilities and he couldn’t drop school over whatever was going on with his mother nor Jaeho.

Jongwoo had never wanted to crawl back into bed more than he did several hours ago upon waking up.

“Everything alright? You look awful, Jongwoo”, Junghwa remarked in front of him. She had been happily tipping away at an essay for the past hour, but even so, his gloomy atmosphere unnerved her enough to stop.

“Huh? Oh yeah-“, Jongwoo stumbled over his words. His mind was still a running static, or at least it felt like nothing could pass the monotone sound ringing in his head.

He hadn’t even managed to log into his own laptop, only the starting display showing. Jongwoo didn’t even register whether or not he had any important work to be doing.

“I-I just haven’t been sleeping very well”, he lied. It was a common lie, nothing too out of the ordinary.

Junghwa’s expression morphed into something akin to a motherly figure. She smiled softly, closing her laptop to pat Jongwoo’s shoulder. It felt like she was looking through his lie, but Jongwoo did not find the energy to tell the truth.

Her touch was nice and calming. But it wasn’t the solution to his problems.

“If you want to talk about anything, and I mean anything, I’m here for you okay? I’ve played therapist a couple of times in my life”, she mused, gentle reassurance, radiating a pleasant warmth.

Jongwoo didn’t even know why he was feeling so horrible anymore. It was all just a mixture of family problems and Jaeho’s stupid comments.

He smiled at Junghwa, thanking her for her offer. But he probably would ignore it still, not really wanting to bother her with his problems.

“It’s actually pretty late, I should get going now”, he managed to say, voice cracking a little on the last word. The clock on the wall behind Junghwa’s head indicated half past 9 pm.

Again, the person opposite of him send him an understanding smile. “Sure, get some rest. You really need it”, she smiled once more, waving him goodbye as Jongwoo frantically packed up his belongings. His friend was a little too naïve for her own good.

He wasn’t going to sleep. His racing mind would trifle any attempt anyways.

Maybe something sugary with coffee would help, Jongwoo supposed.

He beelined towards the coffee shop at the edge of campus, briefly thinking about surprising Moonjo with some caffeine as well. The other was sleeping just as bad if not worse than Jongwoo, seemingly always working on his studies, no matter the time of day.

‘Moonjo is buying me food a lot, isn’t he…’, Jongwoo mused, standing in line while looking at the menu of the shop. The thought of sugar daddy only passed his mind subconsciously, their relationship was balanced, and Jongwoo could certainly sustain himself financially.

“Good evening, Sir, what would you like?”, a lady behind the counter asked as it was finally his turn. Apparently, the shop was popular around this time, being in such close vicinity to a mount of university students.

“A strawberry latte with soy milk, please”, he ordered. A pause. “And an iced Americano too.”

‘What luxuries I can bear to afford for Moonjo’, his inner self joked.

Upon exiting the luminous coffee shop, the night air making Jongwoo shiver, his phone rang. His stomach felt heavy as he rummaged in his pockets to drag out his phone.

On the display ringing, a familiar naming popped up. It was his mother, this time calling him, a sudden change in communication that stripped Jongwoo of a lot of the confidence he might have possessed over text.

Sighing, he pressed the green button, moving the device to his ear.

“Eomma, hello?”

On the other side, there was faint heavy breathing. Probably his mother, who never really managed to recover from her own illness. It was cruel to take care of her not fully healthy son on top of that.  

“Jongwoo, can you hear me?”, his mother’s voice was as high-pitched and cranky as he remembered. A bitter surprise, with a timing that couldn’t be worse.

“Yes, eomma. What is it that you need?”, he asked, continuing to walk back home, choosing a slightly longer route to finish the call before entering the dormitory. The warm latte in his  hands felt cozy, he held onto the warmth as tightly as possible.

His mother sighed, deep and unnerving. Then, there was a soft pause. “I- your brother. He had a seizure”, her voice was quiet and small. It pained her to talk about it, as much as it pained Jongwoo to listen.

“Was it a bad one?”, Jongwoo asked, vaguely remembering the latest seizure. He was the only one home, letting his mother meet up with friends for the first time in what seemed like forever, when his brother could not stop spasming, fever high and unable to speak nor cooperate with Jongwoo’s attempt at communication.

“No, thank god”, his mother spoke fast, slurring her words, “But, we had to get another treatment for his disorder at the hospital. It is expensive. I don’t think this month’s savings can cover it…”, Jongwoo could hear the regret in his mother’s voice.

He knew it pained her to beg for money like this when she knew of Jongwoo’s plight. He didn’t have much either, safe for his own savings for university.

“How much do you need?”, he spoke with a sigh. Jongwoo supposed he should get a job, it should be possible while studying. And he would have more financial security, not needing to rely on the little amount he had saved up.

“Could you wire us 500.000 won? I know it’s a lot, but the doctor already gave me a discount, and-“, his mother pleaded, voice turning teary.

“Okay, don’t worry, I can send it to you!”, Jongwoo spoke up, raising his voice a little.

“Really?”, his mother sounded grateful. “Oh, Jongwoo, I’m so sorry, this will be the last time, I promise.”

“It’s alright, he needs it”, Jongwoo answered, already going back in the direction of his dormitory. He could see the darkened shades of the rainbow stairs again.

“Is university going alright?”, his mother attempted to change the subject. Her voice was a lot cheerier now, albeit still riddled with the same tired strain.

“Not bad, I suppose… Are the neighbors still bothering you?”

A small pause bid silence into the night, as Jongwoo walked.

“N-No. The police came over recently. Something happened there, but I didn’t really pry. They’re scary”, his mother elaborated, sending a shiver down Jongwoo’s spine.

Their neighbors really were scary. They reminded him of Moonjo, and the eerie librarian he apparently knew, but in a way, they were as scary as a grand part of the population.

Jongwoo supposed, people in general were just scary.

The phone call ended pretty soon after that. Now, there was an aching in his bones instead of the anxious state. The ache was dragging him down as he walked back to the dormitory.

‘Maybe I should get some sleep.’

---

“Jagi, is everything alright?”, Moonjo’s question struck him like an arrow barely five minutes after he entered the dorm room.

Jongwoo snickered a little. “You’re the second person to ask me that. Do I look that bad?”, he snapped, running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

Moonjo on the other hand, took amusement in his annoyance, letting out a soft chuckle from his side of the room.

“Of course not. You look dashing as always”, he mused, setting the book previously splayed on his lap aside. Then, his gaze moved towards the coffee in Jongwoo’s hands.

“You got me coffee?”, he inquired, charming smile big enough to pronounce his agyeosal. It still made Jongwoo want to retch, how could one be so unintentionally handsome?

“I’ll keep it if you want to annoy me”, Jongwoo sneered, retiring to his own bed, a tired groan coming from him. Like a deflating cushion, Jongwoo’s figure sinked into the sheets, the two cups of coffee set on his bedside table.

Moonjo kept his eyes on Jongwoo.

“You’re obviously distressed. What’s wrong?”, to Jongwoo’s joy, the other refrained from moving over to him. For once, he respected Jongwoo’s gloomy atmosphere hugging around him like a tight-fitting coat.

‘Should I tell him or not’, Jongwoo couldn’t find any reason why he should keep it from Moonjo, but also none to assure him venting to his roommate. Then again, Moonjo would not make fun of him for voicing his problems.

Another groan, he kicked into the bed, like an over-whelmed toddler.

“My mom called”, he spoke.

Moonjo kept silent, watching him closely, attentively.

“She’s in need of money because my brother needs to get medical treatment. And her salary as a single mother working in retail isn’t really able to support the bill”, he continued. He did not want to sound like he was complaining, but the entire situation was tiring, and he had been tired for a while.

Only now did Moonjo speak up. “How much money?”, his voice was oddly neutral. No hint of pleasure or amusement, a rare occasion, Jongwoo found.

“500 grand”, Jongwoo answered.

And then, without skipping a beat: “I could give you the money”, Moonjo said, as if it was the only logical solution.

Jongwoo spluttered, getting up from his lying position with a shocked ‘what?’. He nearly laughed due to the sheer need to do something about the absurdity of Moonjo’s suggestion.

“Hyung”, it was weird to call him that, but Jongwoo’s brain might have shut down halfway through the conversation, “we’re talking about half a million won. That’s too much, I could never ask that of you.”

Moonjo’s smile grew soft, and he got up from the bed to move to Jongwoo’s side. The bed dipped, and then, the older guy was sitting on top of his ruffled sheets.

Turning his head to look Jongwoo in the eyes, connecting the latter’s frantic eyes with his own steadiness, Moonjo moved a little closer. One of his arms snaked off to wrap itself around Jongwoo’s shoulders, keeping him secure.

“For you, I would do everything, jagiya”, Moonjo responded, and Jongwoo felt the air get knocked out of his lungs by the sheer love-sickness of his voice and gaze. The pet-name, long since forgotten how incredibly intimate it made their conversations seem to outsiders, making Jongwoo gulp under the tight surveillance.

“Moonjo, be rational”, he croaked, voice lost together with the rest of his common-sense.

The other shook his head, then grinned, unlike his mad facial expressions. “I am fully reasonable, my dear. I’ve got a lot of money saved up that my mother sent me. It was either money or being there for me, apparently. And money, I have plenty.”

Jongwoo scoffed, rolling his eyes at the surreal situation.

Moonjo wanted to give, not lend, him 500.000 won, and all of a sudden, the very word Jaeho had used to insult Moonjo with creeped up between every crevice of Jongwoo’s mind.

Leaning a little closer to the older guy, Jongwoo gulped again to regain some sort of confidence in his voice.

“No, this is not it. I-I’ve been thinking actually. The way you treat me, people may think you’re like – my sugar daddy or whatever”, the embarrassment boiled up high as Jongwoo actually finished his sentence.

To his surprise, Moonjo seemed a little taken off-guard as well. “A sugar daddy? Jagiya, do you really think this relationship is that superficial to me?”, he uttered after a short-lived silence of shock.

Then, Moonjo leaned a little closer, looking at Jongwoo from below, so that the other had a clear vision of the elder’s expression. It was turning into that familiar smirk again, white pearly teeth glimpsing out between his lips.

“Don’t you know that my feelings for you are drowning my sanity? Have I not told you enough, jagiya?”, Moonjo’s voice was raw, and his voice sent a horrible surge of embarrassment and emotion through Jongwoo’s body.

“M-Moonjo, you can’t just say shit like that?”, he spluttered, ducking away from the other’s intensity.

Then, the embarrassment returned again, this time stemming from his own worries as opposed to Jaeho’s teasing.

“Plus, if you felt so intense, why am I still unsure of where we stand? We’ve kissed enough to be not-friends, but are we actually dating? Or just friends with benefits…”, Jongwoo muttered, then licking his lips added, “And I don’t even know if I actually like you like that. I-I’ve never had feelings for another guy.”

Moonjo hummed, then took a sip of the Iced Americano on the bedside table.

“That’s alright. You can take all the time you want. But to me, labels aren’t important. I know the depth of my feelings towards you, and if you allow me, I’ll show you every last bit of it, so that you know them too”, Moonjo said, kicking Jongwoo’s mind back into a tailspin again.

‘How is he so relaxed about this?’, Jongwoo’s thoughts were jumbled words and question  marks. And a lot of confused emotions, because Moonjo was hot and Moonjo was also creepy and Jongwoo hadn’t experienced anything like this ever.

Again, Jongwoo licked his lips, finding them awfully dry all of a sudden.

Jongwoo has had the occasional crush or two, as all teenagers do. But never could he have described his feelings so poetically, and to have somebody else feel like this about him, felt like a fever dream. Like it wasn’t quite real, like it was a figment of his imagination.

But Moonjo was real. And he was a horribly charming smooth-talker.

And maybe, Jongwoo deserved a little of this. He needed something overwhelming, a love akin to the cliché romance stories Jieun loved to read, even if this love was a little wicked.

“Alright”, Jongwoo began, the anxiety flowing out of him as he composed himself. He sat up properly on the bed, reaching for Moonjo’s hand that had left him alone as he wallowed in his own thoughts.

Moonjo hummed, hair falling into his vision as he tilted his head.

“If you want to, you could uh-“, Jongwoo’s throat was unimaginably dry. Moonjo kept his eyes on him, fidgeting with his words.

Then, the younger groaned. “Oh god, this is so embarrassing. I like you, I think”, he muttered.

Why was his head so hot and red? Had he not confessed more embarrassing things to Moonjo? What was even his goal to achieve?

Jongwoo found his eyes trailing along Moonjo’s exposed arm.

When Moonjo did not answer, Jongwoo looked up again, a quizzical look on his face. “What- aren’t you going to say anything you bastard?”, he huffed.

“I’m actually pretty tired, so if you’re going to annoy me about this, I’d rather go to bed”, he added, ready to genuinely fall asleep and get some rest for once.

And then, as if this day couldn’t get any weirder, Moonjo laughed. A hearty, deep laughter. His eyes crinkled a little, then sparkling after he opened them again. The sound did not last long, but the few seconds he had heard, Jongwoo decided right that moment to lock them away forever to listen to in times of plight and misery.

As soon as it came, the laughter was gone again, replaced once more by Moonjo’s signature grin. Jongwoo found both of his wrists being grabbed intently before his body was seemingly easily moved back onto the bed; then in a swift move, Moonjo came to straddle his hips.

The other man dipped his head to whisper into Jongwoo’s ears. “Darling I am ecstatic, how could I let you go now?”, he purred. There was a calming air to his words, and at the same time they made Jongwoo’s body shiver with goosebumps. (The good kind.)

As the man on top of him drew his hips down against Jongwoo’s own groin, the whispers continued. Jongwoo gasped softly, trying to move his wrists out of Moonjo’s grip to no avail.

“Apropos friends with benefits”, Moonjo spoke softly, “I haven’t even shown you all of the benefits yet, jagi. Do you want me to?”

His hips circled once more, as if giving Jongwoo a taste of what might be to come.

In his embarrassed state, Jongwoo chuckled a little. “Is this amount of suggestiveness your natural state, or..?”, he attempted to joke, but the lick across his ear shell that followed made Jongwoo shut up pretty quickly.

“You didn’t answer, my dear. Do you want us to sleep together?”, Moonjo asked once more.

Jongwoo whined a little, feeling a little made fun of in the moment. The weight against his groin was not any less aggravating than the grip on his wrists nor the mouth by his ear.

“You’ve already got a boner, I suppose”, Jongwoo pointed out, feeling his thigh move against a particular part of Moonjo, “so we might as well.” God, he felt like a virgin, barely able to utter a sentence.

Moonjo seemed to understand his conflicting self, giving him additional time to word a better answer. Or perhaps to torture him a little more; Jongwoo could feel the dumb grin against his ear.

“Okay, I want you to sleep with me. Show me the depths of your feelings or whatever mushy shit you were on about just now”, his tone was somewhere between annoyed and whiny.

Moonjo laughed softly, then giving a quick peck to Jongwoo’s ear.

The “depths” Moonjo spoke of were interesting to say the least, leaving Jongwoo even more of a jumbling mess than usual (although Moonjo did not hold himself much better, the pleasure and haziness clearly riddling him a flustered shell of his usual self), though their activity was abruptly stopped sooner than either of them desired with the horrid ringing of the annual fire alarm drill.

Jongwoo supposed he had gotten the college experience he wished.  

Chapter Text

If Jongwoo thought living in Seoul, living with Moonjo couldn’t get any more annoying, he might have been right. After all, what could be worse than finding his nearly life-long crush making out with his conceited rich friend? And he’s already become proficient at dealing with Moonjo’s antics between being a smug bastard and following him everywhere he went.

But having that smug bastard be plastered to him nearly all 24 hours of the day drained Jongwoo unlike anything else. Or at least, that’s what he wanted to firmly believe. A kiss or two, he made sure to take from Moonjo just as much as the other took from him. In his mind it made sense.

It was strange, to say the least. Moonjo, who had been so much like a looming specter the past few months, seemingly always there in the shadows, in the depths of Jongwoo’s mind, now passed his free-time like he had become adjoined to the younger at the hip.

“Since when did you become so soft?”, Jongwoo grumbled, stabbing his elbow into Moonjo’s side to keep the other from hugging him even tighter. He was supposed to study, this was far from the appropriate time. He had papers to write, assignments to finish, and being entangled in those big arms was a dangerous lure to unproductivity. And Moonjo’s shenanigans were starting to become an odd habit, much to the younger’s chagrin.

As usual, Moonjo would crawl closer, using his advantage of the additional height to give himself a better vantagepoint before drawing his head to the crevice of Jongwoo’s collarbone. Keeping without response, he merely pressed soft kisses onto the sensitive skin, earning himself another stab to the ribs from Jongwoo.

“Ya! Will you please stop, I’m trying to concentrate here”, he’d bit back, masking his growing blush with an agitated tone. Of course he was annoyed, what else would he be? And then Moonjo would stretch his lips into that awful grin and gaze up into Jongwoo’s erratic eyes with a fond glint to his eyes. Today was no different.

Jongwoo could almost see himself in the black orbs, yet he did not feel afraid as he used to, there was a different emotion bubbling up in him.

“Jagiya”, Moonjo called him more often than not, and in a way, it made Jongwoo’s insides turn gooey.

On top of it all, Moonjo had a great desire to take him out as often as possible, every time having Jongwoo’s thoughts stray back to the idea of the older being his ‘sugar daddy’. He’d get dragged through botanical gardens and museums, enjoying art and beauty, while the taller man tended to keep to himself in favor of letting Jongwoo enjoy the dates.

Dates? No, he still refused to acknowledge their outings as such.

Somewhere in the dark of his mind, there was still a lingering apprehension, like he still was not entirely ready to jump over the threshold. Like there was still a line he had to keep behind. Fear, if he may, not in the sense that made his skin turn prickly with goosebumps, but rather anticipation and vigor.

Or was he already too far gone?

How could he keep his sanity, with the shadow man plastered onto him, like Moonjo needed him to breath, while suffocating Jongwoo all the same? It was comical, and Jongwoo had never been so insanely confused about himself or his thoughts in his entire life.

They weren’t even a proper couple, just something in between the thinly veiled curtains or friendship and love – or obsession. But whenever the other spoke to him in that gentle voice, laced with more adoration than Jongwoo could comprehend, whenever Moonjo couldn’t keep his hands to himself, the vague pull in his heart made Jongwoo think, that perhaps this was the right decision.

Like he actually liked him. But who was he to know, after a decade and a half of pining after Jieun, he didn’t feel able to do that another time.

Even if he would, Jongwoo could not turn a blind eye to the rumors around campus. They talked, Seokyoon had informed him, about the great big wolf shielding Jongwoo.

“I’m telling you hyung, you should think about it a little”, Seokyoon was blabbering, like he was in a rush to get his word vomit out. “I believe that maybe, he’s not that good for you.”

Jongwoo noted that Seokyoon was careful, choosing his words with a tentative slowness, trying his best to toy the line between offending Jongwoo, and by extent Moonjo, and telling him what he had observed.

The other sighed. “Seokyoon-ah, why do you think so?”

Originally Seokyoon had invited him to eat dinner together, but to nobody’s real surprise, Moonjo had invited himself to go along. Jongwoo had laughed it off, but Seokyoon did not seem to be against the elder joining.

And as soon as the tall man had left the table for the rest rooms, Seokyoon had firmly planted his elbows on the table, leaning palpably into Jongwoo’s personal space. There was a sense of franticness to be seen in Seokyoon’s visage, Jongwoo also noted.

“Hyung, don’t tell me you haven’t heard anything?”, his voice cracked a little.

Jongwoo shook his head. ‘Why would I? It’s not like I have many friends apart from you’, he mused in his head.

Again, Seokyoon shuffled closer over the table. His voice was hushed, quiet and careful.

“Well, you’re always mentioning how sweet he is, and so on, but I’ve always only seen him look odd. Like he’s a painting, not an actual person. He just stands still”, Seokyoon gesticulated with his hands, as if forming the still appearance of Moonjo with his digits, “and looks like he’s angry, but passive, but dangerous, but then he … smiles?”

Jongwoo would be lying if he proclaimed Seokyoon to be false. Moonjo was like that, at the beginning, and sometimes this behavior of his shined through when he was with Jongwoo. But being flawed didn’t make him a bad person, he wanted to believe.

Or rather he couldn’t believe otherwise when Moonjo exerted such a calmness onto him, not when he felt so much better than Jieun ever could have.

“And”, Seokyoon began once more, dry throat making his voice raspy, “I think I’m kind of scared of him. He has an aura, you know? Some students even told me there were some rumours going around concerning his upbringing, and that he’s a stalker. I’ve seen him around my dorm some times, and I’ve been getting strange calls after hanging out with you.”

Seokyoon looked around, as if searching for the mentioned man. There was something akin to fear in his eyes, for a second it flashed bright white.

“You told me so yourself”, he hissed, as Jongwoo did nothing but blink into the other’s pleas. “He’s following you, you see him everywhere you go. Isn’t that weird to you, hyung?”

Jongwoo sighed, dragging his head in between his hands, resting both elbows on the table. Moonjo was taking a little too long, he thought absent-mindedly. “I- I don’t know”, he mumbled into the fabric of his sleeves.

He bit his lips, should he tell Seokyoon the truth? The other was sweet, and someone to confine in, but this felt different.

“You know... I have been”, Jongwoo cleared his throat, “I think I like Moonjo. Or, at least, I like his presence. He’s handsome, sure, but we connect somehow.”

Seokyoon raised his eyebrows, though his face bore no indications of mockery. “You mean he understands you?”, he questioned, voice lowered once more.

In favor of keeping quiet, Jongwoo nodded. God, it was weird to say these things out loud.

The younger sighed as well, then shuffled the slightest bit closer. “Truth be told, I’d be careful. It’s great that you understand each other, and he’s quite charming I guess, but just – hyung, promise me you’ll take care?”, the last part sounded more like a plea than anything.

It caught Jongwoo off guard.

“Ah, sorry, it took a little longer than expected”, a gravelly voice interrupted their conversation, and as unsuspiciously as possible, Seokyoon shifted back into his original position.

Jongwoo, in an attempt to alleviate the tension building up, smiled up lightly at the older. “Oh, don’t worry, we haven’t ordered yet though”, he explained, then patted the space next to him.

An uncomfortable silence spread, after they had beckoned a waiter over to take their orders. Jongwoo could almost feel the burning heat with which Moonjo was boring holes into Seokyoon’s figure, staring at him like he was the enemy. It wasn’t subtle, all three of them were aware.

The tension was seeping through every crack of Moonjo’s usually collected persona, the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyebrows creased, and his eyes lidded. It was nice, Jongwoo supposed, containing a quick smile.

“Oh, I nearly forgot”, Seokyoon exclaimed after a while of this tirade, reaching over the table to pull on Jongwoo’s arm playfully. His eyes were fixated on Jongwoo, trying to avoid flickering over to meet Moonjo’s heated stare.

Jongwoo felt uncomfortable, pushing a smile through, nonetheless. A tingle went down his spine, Seokyoon’s hand tightened a little.

“I got tickets to a concert next month, maybe you’d want to come with?”, he smiled, words still tentatively picked, breathing shallow.

Jongwoo hummed a little, mulling over the proposition, disregarding the older man staring at his profile. “Well, I don’t think I’ve got any other plans… could you send me the details later?”, he mused, enjoying the sweet tinge to Seokyoon’s smile that followed.

Under the table a hand crept upon his lower thigh, an odd weight that, unlike the anchor of Seokyoon’s hand, holding him seeking comfort, felt like a gesture of possessiveness. It was Moonjo, still as quiet as ever, and Jongwoo did his best to ignore the warmth spreading through his jeans.

“Awesome!”, Seokyoon beamed. His gaze was still fixated on the other, the hand vaguely lingering near Jongwoo’s side of the table as the night went on.

In fact, uncomfortableness did not even begin to describe the situation between Seokyoon’s awkward laughter, jokes and clinginess and Moonjo’s intimidating stares and avertedness towards the whole ordeal.

About two hours after, thankfully, Moonjo made the move to lead the trio out the restaurant, Jongwoo a little tipsy and Seokyoon pretty far down the lane of drunkenness.  

“I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight”, Seokyoon slurred with a grin, grabbing onto Jongwoo’s side to avoid falling face-first onto the pavement. The latter pulled an arm around Seokyoon’s waist, and they stumbled a little before he was able to regain his footing.

Moonjo walked a little ahead of them, though Jongwoo could feel his distain seeping into the air.

“Are you sure you didn’t drink too much?”, Jongwoo laughed at Seokyoon, attempting to hold him up as they caught up with Moonjo. Seokyoon felt like a dead weight at his side, more than happy to throw himself at his hyung and let himself be carried along.

“Hyunnng~”, he drew out, “I am perfectly fine.”

Before Jongwoo managed to answer, already thinking of scolding the younger for his awful drinking habits, yet probably resorting to a more playful jab, he heard Moonjo tsk. A soft noise, otherwise indistinguishable from the rest of Seoul’s nightlife.

“Ah, hyung, I think Moonjo is angry at me”, Seokyoon then slurred, swaying the pair with his overdramatic antics.

‘So he’s capable of hearing, huh? Might not be that wasted after all’, Jongwoo grimaced internally, still struggling to keep both of them from falling down.

Moonjo made no move to help him, instead sauntering further into the dark night, but never out of reach.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, he said after a while, voice sharper than Jongwoo recalled. “I’d be a lot nicer if you stopped clinging to my boyfriend.” 

With a cough, Jongwoo couldn’t swallow down his saliva fast enough as he had to take a grand breath in favor of maintaining his composure, he made Moonjo turn around completely. A grin etched onto his lips, widening as the reality of his words dawned on Seokyoon.

But, ever so drunk, the younger brushed it off as playful joking between friends, while it was now Jongwoo’s turn to burn somebody alive with his scorching stare.

---

“You absolute asshole”, Jongwoo yelled as the door closed shut. His finger was pointed at Moonjo’s stupid grin, the other’s eyes downcast slightly at their proximity. “I never said we’re boyfriends.”

It made him flush a little, having to crane his neck ever so slightly to meet Moonjo’s eyes. ‘Why does he have to be so fucking tall, it's so unfair. Nature clearly has her favorites, huh?’, he grumbled.  

“Jagiya, are you angry at me?”,  the other smirked, deep voice dripping honey. In their half-lit dorm, Moonjo’s face was clouded in shadows, only pearly white teeth serving as contrast.

“Am I angry?”, Jongwoo gritted, fisting his other hand into the collar of Moonjo’s shirt, though the gesture didn’t seem as threatening as he imagined. “Of course I am angry at you, can’t you think before you speak?”

But Moonjo didn’t care, his face bore only a calm suave grin, like he was enjoying himself, like he was enjoying Jongwoo’s outburst. Yet, with his accusatory finger dangling in front of Moonjo’s face, Jongwoo couldn’t have guessed the other resorting to childish measures.

“It seems my mind does not function quite as well when I am around you”, he spoke, leaning down a little to take Jongwoo’s finger – why hasn’t he retracted it yet – into his mouth. A soft swirl of his tongue against the digit, coloring Jongwoo’s cheeks even redder - as Moonjo made sure to tilt his head upwards a little again, his eyes turning siren-like.

Then a bite, Jongwoo nearly jumped, the sudden intrusion of teeth against his finger odd beyond belief. They weren’t biting hard nor deep, but they lingered, and the longer they did, the hotter Jongwoo’s face felt.

“What the fuck?”, he recoiled, forcefully dragging his hand away. Moonjo was still standing there like before, the shirt Jongwoo had bunched up now giving view to his collarbones, lit up softly by the light from outside.

The older hummed a little, turning on his heel, leaving Jongwoo to wallow in his flustered state against the door.

“I’ll refrain from tending to my boyfriend then”, he lulled, walking back to his bed.

---

The rainbow stairs evoked a different kind of feeling in the midst of late November winds. It was cold, unlike the sweltering heat Jongwoo still remembered from when he first stepped foot onto campus.

Now, there was a wet sheen across the stairs, making him think whether or not he could actually slip and fall. Last night was quite stormy, and the temperatures were dropping lower and lower.

His mother had called, the second time in such a short time span.

“Jongwoo-yah, is everything alright with university?”, she inquired, the dull sound of the television resounding in the background. Jongwoo thought he also heard his brother playing video games in the background.

Kicking a pebble away with his shoes, he answered something along the lines of “It’s alright” and “I’m working hard, but taking care of myself, don’t worry”. His mother shouldn’t worry about him as well.

She answered in an almost audible smile, then a soft harrumph. “I actually applied to get financial aid for your brother”, she whispered.

“And you should visit over the holidays, maybe bring your friends along too?”, she continued, voice a little louder again. “Maybe Jieun or Junghwa?”, Jongwoo wanted to grimace. She was meaning to be nice, he knew.

“Eomma, that’s great! Really, I’m happy for you, and my brother”, Jongwoo said, drawing his coat closer around himself, “And I’ll try to visit, okay? I don’t know if my friends will come home though.”

He felt a little pathetic uttering the last parts. Since when did he not know where they went and what they did?

Then, another idea stumbled into his mind, disturbing his calmness, asking “What if you bring Moonjo with you?” as if it was natural.

“Oh, well I hope you still get along well with them. You know that it’s people who are the scariest, especially strangers, but you’ve known your friends for almost all of your life”, his mother explained, and Jongwoo wanted to wince.

She couldn’t be any more wrong in her assumption.

If people were really the scariest, then why was Moonjo so kind to him? Why were his friends so distant? His eyes were stinging, though it could very well be the cold air.

“Of course, eomma. I’ll be careful”, he managed to say, keeping the vulnerability out of his voice.

The phone call ended, and Jongwoo didn’t even register the cold as he continued walking.

‘Bring along Moonjo? What am I thinking’, he sighed, watching his breath condense in the air, white smoke flowing out of him. ‘We’re not even together, not like that.’

His heart clenched a little.

Did he want to be together like that?

---

At a certain point, the days seemed to bleed into one another. Sleeping, studying, going to classes.

Maybe eating. Mostly due to Moonjo and or Junghwa encouraging him to do so.

But the 28^th, Jongwoo could easily recall whenever needed. His vision was clear, focused, or did it turn so when Moonjo handed him a poster he’d picked up on campus? Much like any other day, they were sitting in their room, pleasant silence hanging over them.

Jongwoo had just ushered the older away as he had attempted to crawl onto Jongwoo’s bed, when Moonjo returned with a baby blue poster in hand, titled “Crime Story Writing Contest” in cursive grand letters.

The younger turned his head, confusion on his face as he looked at Moonjo more than the poster. “What is it?”, he said, in the sense that he didn’t know the older still cared about his passion for crime stories.

Moonjo shrugged, poster still in hand. “I thought you might like to participate. You know you have a gift for writing, jagi”, he softly explained, tilting the poster towards him.

The other softened a little at the compliment, barely keeping himself from uttering a “really, you think so?”, like he wasn’t acting pathetic enough in front of Moonjo already.

“Oh, uhm thank you”, he took the poster, setting it aside on his desk. “I’ll think about what to write. This is really what I enjoy doing.”

Moonjo smiled, genuine, not the kind of conceited and smug one he loved sporting. Jongwoo melted a little again, his conflicted thoughts from the past few days resurfacing somewhere in between the tumbling parts of his brain.

The older didn’t budge, their eyes met, and Jongwoo wanted to stare at him for as long as possible. He wouldn’t back down, he’d get to the bottom of this.

“Why do you like me?”, Jongwoo blurted. Immediately, he threw a hand on his mouth, lowering his gaze a little at the embarrassment.

“S-Sorry, that’s – you don’t have to answer”, he mumbled, crawling back towards the wall to get some space between the two of them.

Moonjo kept silent, not even moving his facial features. It was uncanny. His soft locks were almost reaching the middle of his neck, and the older drew a hand through them before answering.

“You looked familiar”, he spoke then.

Three words Jongwoo wasn’t expecting to hear, but they bore no context to them. He hadn’t met Moonjo before, or had he? Jongwoo grew up with his mother and his brother, nobody else. Certainly not Moonjo – he’d remember seeing a face as pretty as his.

“Have we met before?”, Jongwoo asked, furrowed brows because no way they did.

Moonjo chuckled deeply, lowering himself to sit next to the younger on the bed. His locks swayed as the elder shook his head.

“Not like that”, he explained, looking at Jongwoo, eyes ever so slightly upturned, like he had been recalling something melancholic, or perhaps euphoric? Jongwoo had troubles reading him, no matter how long he stared at his face.

“Not physically at least. I felt like your soul resembled mine, like you think like I do”, Moonjo inched closer, and Jongwoo inched backwards. Too much, his mind added, though his heart was beating out of his chest.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, jagi, but seeing you ignited something in me”, he finished, voice luring Jongwoo in, into his embrace. There was an odd kindness in Moonjo’s eyes, black orbs shifting around the rosy-colored tinge of love.

“That’s-“, Jongwoo was at a loss for words. His skin prickled, but his brain might have short-circuited somewhere while Moonjo described them as akin to soulmates. Little by little, the smirk returned to the other’s features, delighted by Jognwoo’s state of mind.

“I’m going to kill you if you say mushy shit like that one more time”, Jongwoo said, without any force behind his words. God he hated Moonjo. How dare he be like this?

And the older’s face fell forward, his hair shielding him once more from the sunlight, as he erupted in another wide grin.

“And you’re so very nice to rile up, my dear”, he purred.

Not necessarily mushy, but last straw.

Jongwoo hit him against the nose, though that was an accident. Moonjo didn’t even bleed. Though the younger could delight in the redness his eyes adopted, and the pained noise as the palm of Jongwoo’s hands collided with his face.

“Shut up, or I’ll punch you properly”, he had gritted out, but his words were masking his beating heart more than anything.

In a way he wanted this. This, and more, and everything that Moonjo was willing to give him. But what if he couldn’t live up to the standards? What if Moonjo would tire of him after a couple of months, discard him and leave him like the others.

As Moonjo clutched at his nose, before making sure he did not bleed, Jongwoo’s thoughts were running rampant.

Or did he really like Moonjo? Was he not just hung up on Jieun, and like Moonjo because he was the furthest from Jieun he could be?

“Darling, you look like you’re thinking too much”, Moonjo crawled back up again, voice a little nasally. Jongwoo didn’t look at the other, not really. He physically was, but mentally his thoughts were picturing Moonjo, or was it Jieun? The image morphed, he found, a mixture of both, before growing taller and paler once more.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick”, he excused himself poorly, slipping between Moonjo, feeling his lingering gaze on him.

He had to figure this out. Was it Jieun, who still lingered in his mind? Or could he already make space for Moonjo between the rubble of what could have been a relationship?

Jongwoo, 2:24 pm
Hi : )

I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but I wanted to properly talk with you. Could we meet at the library?

The answer didn’t take long to arrive.

Jieun, 2:35 pm

Of course, talking together would be the best option. I’m free in two hours, so we’ll see each other then?

Jongwoo replied with a curt thumbs up.

---

“Oppa, it’s so good to see you again!”, Jieun greeted him, though not coming in for a hug. Jongwoo understood. He barely knew where they stood on the scale of texting-and-calling, after the rather abrupt pause in their friendship.

He nodded, sitting down next to her.

The air was sizzling around them. Jieun was wearing florals, like a maniac, in late autumn. The pair sat next to each other, despite the tension surrounding them.

‘Was this a mistake?’, a bead of sweat ran down Jongwoo’s temple, he had been kept up all night by thinking about Moonjo, and now Jieun was all that resided in his mind.

“I’ve been meaning to say I’m sorry”, Jieun continued, picking at her fingers out of nervousness, while still looking at the other. Jongwoo felt his throat go dry again.

“It was wrong of me. I know it’s not an excuse, but both me and Jaeho were a little drunk. I should have told you, but I didn’t”,  she was now fiddling with the hem of her blouse. Jongwoo nodded softly, motioning for her to continue.

“Can we still be friends?”, Jieun finished, a little flushed at her tone of voice.

Jongwoo wasn’t the most eloquent when it came to social interactions. And neither was Jieun, he knew. Both preferred to string words along into a long necklace, wearing it proudly across their neck.

They had worked so perfectly, his mother said; the artist and his muse.

Frankly, that wasn’t right. Jieun never loved his art as much as Moonjo, and she wasn’t as influential. None of Jieun was dying in the pages of his book.

So in the end, he couldn’t help himself – reaching over to draw Jieun into a hug. For old time’s sake. To mend his heart over the decision it had to make.

“I’d like so.”

The hug did not remind Jongwoo of home, but of Busan. Like he could smell the salty air or the ocean when he held Jieun close.

---

When Jongwoo came home, however, there was something wrong about it. It was silent. Moonjo sat in the corner, doing assignments or studying. The curtains had been drawn close, and the only light illuminating the room was the lamp on the elder’s bedside post.

“Uh- I’m back again?”, Jongwoo mumbled into the silence, taking off his shoes and (carefully) planting them onto the ground.

Nothing.

Moonjo kept quiet, nose buried in the spine of a medical book.

Jongwoo sighed, ripping himself from the threshold of the door to saunter across the dorm to where the elder sat on his bed.

“What’s it now?”, he gritted, impatiently tapping his foot against the other’s bedpost.

The latter hummed, not bothering to look up. “I saw you with her. Are you still in a relationship?”, he answered in one swift breath.

Jongwoo grimaced, a short chuckling sound coming from his mouth.

“You’re jealous?”, he laughed, coming closer to the edge of the bed. One knee leaned into the bed sheets, his right hand grabbing onto Moonjo’s arm. It was hot, a sharp contrast to the coldness outside.

Moonjo kept silent.

His eyes glistened in the bedside lamp’s light.

“You moron”, the younger grunted, drawing both of his hands up to hold Moonjo’s head between them. He was willing the older man to look up at him, surprise and intrigue coloring his facial features.

“I thought about some stuff you know”, Jongwoo began, half-heartedly keeping his grip tight, “and I- you can only be mad about this if you’re my boyfriend.”

Moonjo still refrained from verbal answers, though his fingernails dug into Jongwoo’s waist softly. His hands had found the younger man’s body nearly instantly.  

“So I suppose, we should be together like that, no?”, Jongwoo fought through the last few words. He wanted a black hole to open up and swallow him whole. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

The black hole drew him in. He was falling, stretching infinitely, didn’t know where up and down was.

And then he was held again, Moonjo’s strong arms around his frame, eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears in them.

“Jagiya~”, he sighed, rubbing soft circles into his flesh with the palm of his hands. Then he came closer, body heat encapsulating Jongwoo’s personal space, before he felt a pair of wet lips against his ear.

“So now you’re allowed to say mushy stuff?”, a soft peck onto his ear-shell. “I suppose that’s the privilege of being boyfriends, jagiya~”

Chapter Text

“So now you’re allowed to say mushy stuff?”, Moonjo placed a soft peck onto his ear-shell, holding him close, “I suppose that’s the privilege of being boyfriends, jagiya~.” Being pressed against Moonjo’s face so tightly, Jongwoo could feel stray wet tears smeared on the older man’s cheeks, as his hands continued wandering about his torso.

“I’ll make you feel like a god, my dear. Your wish is my command”, Moonjo waxed, and the younger shuddered in the embrace.

“Shut up, I’ll rethink the offer if you’re gonna be like that”, Jongwoo frowned, though the redness on his face did not aid in hiding his fondness for the other’s words. Boyfriends. He had never been in a relationship, and the prospect of finally having someone at his side, someone who could understand him, and his art made his own eyes prickle ever so slightly with tears.

He drew his hands tighter across Moonjo, pulling his own face into the periphery of the elder’s neck. Moonjo’s hair was getting longer, the soft curls at the top of his nape tickling Jongwoo’s skin.

“Darling”, Moonjo purred with a lilted tone, a soft groan following as Jongwoo pressed his hands onto his shoulders, telling him to lie down on his back.

Jongwoo was halfheartedly straddling his waist, bending down until their faces were but a paper’s width apart. The other was grinning softly, hearts almost visible in his black irises, as his hair lay spread out on the blankets, circling his head like a flower blooming. Or a fire burning.

“You’re quite aggressive today, aren’t you?”, Moonjo mused, staring up at the other, seemingly without even blinking. Jongwoo shuddered – the other was eerie sometimes, even in his odd devotion.

“Darling, since when have you grown so passionate?” Another twinkle, dark and inviting, alluring even.

Jongwoo refrained from answering. No sensible words would leave his lips anyways, as he continued getting lost in the other’s eyes, vaguely noticing his grin widening. Moonjo’s mouth opened again.

So Jongwoo moved downwards, silencing another attempt at teasing with his own lips. Soft lips met the other’s slightly chapped ones, followed by a not-so-gentle tuck to Moonjo’s lower lip. He wanted to bite it, not hard enough to draw blood, but hear the sounds he could draw forth from Moonjo’s lips.

Instead he opted to lick into the other’s mouth, before leaning backwards to watch the flustered, yet heated expression on his face. Jongwoo grinned, feeling oddly powerful as he sat atop the other’s waist, palm spread out on his chest to keep him from rising up.

Moonjo was pretty. Hair spread out, eyes slightly lidded and mouth agape.

“You know,” Jongwoo tongue darting out unconsciously to wet his lips, “you’re so insanely pretty – until you open your mouth.”

Moonjo’s eyes widened for a brief moment, as the flush deepened, still barely a shade of rose quartz amongst his pale skin. Then they lidded even more, shape turning siren-like as he gazed up at his boyfriend.

“Oh, I’m flattered. But if it’s that much of a problem, darling, why don’t you shut me up?”, he mused, and Jongwoo felt the other’s hands grab at his sweater, dragging him down forcibly, drawing him into a dangerous embrace.

And oh, how Jongwoo loved the proposal of shutting him up.

Once their lips connected again, it turned more into tongues touching each other. The younger wanted to devour, bite lips and tongue and whatever else Moonjo would let him, as his fingers found their way into Moonjo’s locks. He tugged, relishing in the soft moans the elder emitted.

Saliva and blood stringed between their mouths as they pulled apart, briefly, until Moonjo groaned once more, deeper and grittier than before. Then he pulled at Jongwoo, heaved himself up in order to switch their positions.

Jongwoo gasped, still disoriented by the kissing. Moonjo had definitely returned the favor of biting his lips, the swell of a bite still tingling in his lower lip. He held onto Moonjo’s upper arms and wheezed a little as his back collided with the bed.

Moonjo had a knee pressed between Jongwoo’s legs, dangerously close to his groin, making the younger groan in frustration. Arching his back a little, Jongwoo managed to gain more friction, but Moonjo – god-awful bastard that he was – only masked a devilish expression and pulled his knee away from Jongwoo’s aching pelvis.

“You’re a little needy today,” he remarked, still grinning characteristically, “Jagiya, do not fret, I love being at the receiving end of your passion, but I’m inclined to have my turn.”

Moonjo’s voice was husky, strained despite the sugary words dropping from him.

Jongwoo groaned again, half-way towards a sigh. “You talk too fucking much”, he arched up further, grabbing at Moonjo’s neck in a futile endeavour.

Upon seeing Jongwoo, taking in the pleasant sight of want and need painting his skin cherry red, the other wasted no time in reconnecting their mouths once more. Until they were but a pair of panting bodies, tangled up in each other’s lips. Minutes had passed, and as the kisses turned from their violent, bloody high into a lazy pace, both lying on their side and desperate to touch the other until both of their lips were raw and kiss-swollen.

“I like you”, Moonjo whispered into Jongwoo’s mouth. Kissing the other’s teeth. Jongwoo returned the favor, then moving his pecks downwards to suckle at the elder’s jaw.

In response, Moonjo sighed contently, cuddling more into Jongwoo’s body.

So Jongwoo nibbled at the skin, moving further down, then biting the side of his neck. He was already edging on tiredness, though the erection in his jeans strained, keeping him awake. That and the expressions and sounds Moonjo vocalized into the darkened room.

The hands tugging sharply at his hair pulled him back to reality, noticing the red and purple bruise forming around Moonjo’s Adam’s apple. He had bitten a little too hard.

“M’sorry”, he mumbled, adding a wet kiss to the bite in apology.

More minutes passed, Jongwoo content with his body almost melting into Moonjo’s own, lazily making out in the late afternoon. Somewhere along the lines, they fell asleep, lips chapped and swollen, but hearts and minds pleased beyond imagination.

Moonjo, greedily sweeping the smaller man into his embrace, slept wonderfully for the first time in a while. He always had problems falling asleep, but not with Jongwoo. Never with him.

And for the first time in his life, Moonjo slept so secure and warm, that the time slipped from his mind. In the quietude of their dorm room, two bodies tangled up in the comfortable sheets of the elder’s bed, the idea of missing a lecture for the first time in his life was far from worrisome to his pleased mind.

How could he be annoyed if he was lying in his boyfriend’s arms?

Correction, how could he be annoyed if he was distracted by lying in his boyfriend’s arms?

Jongwoo giggled a little, as the realization dawned upon Moonjo – at nearly 9pm in the evening – that he had in fact missed a lecture . One that he might have been looking forward too, given that it would have posed a source of information on the nervous system and how pain was experienced on different areas of the body. They had slept 4 hours following their blissful haze.

The younger stumbled towards his own bed to retrieve his phone, before connecting to ‘maps’.

“Oh don’t look so distressed”, he mused, amusement still prevalent in his tone. The fact that Moonjo had been too distracted by him to continue his perfect attendance, the fact that it was him who threw the other off his trajectory, was nothing short of amusing. Even more so the brooding, indecipherable expression on his face as he stared at the clock on his bedside table.

Then he turned, softening his groan in the fabric of Jongwoo’s shirt, the vibrations of his voice tickling against Jongwoo’s stomach.

“I’m not. I’m simply surprised this happened”, he mumbled, though he succeeded in keeping his tone from seeping into a whine.

Jongwoo snorted once more. “How about this, we’ll go on a dinner date?”, the last word sneaked from his tongue, perhaps in an effort to drive his blow home. Not into Moonjo’s heart, but his own. The older was already inclined to taking him on a date, though the request had not yet been vocalized. Jongwoo could simply pierce the thought together from odd, loving looks thrown his way.

“Junghwa and me walked by this restaurant the other day – and it seemed to be really popular for its food”, he remarked, tapping the big figure nuzzling against his stomach on the head, making him look at Jongwoo’s phone screen.

A soft nod came from the older man. “You’re not slick, jagi. You ask me on a date knowing fully that I’ll be the one paying anyways”, he murmured, craning his head ever so slightly to look up at Jongwoo without straying from his warm position amidst the other’s lap.

Moonjo was clingy, the younger found. Clingier than he had originally imagined. And hopelessly head-over-heels for Jongwoo, which was even less secretive.

The younger smiled, his lips stretching out with a menacing tinge akin to Moonjo. “Huh, and I thought you just said that my wish was your command,” his eyes sparked up with glee, “I guess you don’t really love me.”

And as the words left his mouth, Moonjo leapt up from his position, to plaster his own on Jongwoo’s lips, for a brief moment. It was however effective in throwing Jongwoo off balance, though the giggling only grew louder, despite the younger’s futile attempts at covering his sounds with the back of his hands.

The older merely gazed at him, deep in thought, adoration written all over his face. “I suppose you’re right. But need I remind you how appalled you were at the notion of me being your sugar daddy and paying for your every expense?”, the giggle turned into a languid groan, and Moonjo was already falling deeper and deeper.

---

“Hyyyunngg?!” Seokyoon drew out ridiculously loud in the middle of the library, almost vibrating with excitement at the news. In a wave of embarrassment, Jongwoo clasped his hand onto Seokyoon’s mouth, shushing him to the best of his abilities before any of the librarians – or worse that eerie woman Moonjo associated with himself – came to check on them.

“Yah! Don’t you have manners?”, he whispered sharply. “It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

However, Seokyoon was already firmly established in his opinion, nothing able to change his trajectory. He drew a hand through the light brown bird-nest-like hair on his head, before continuing his charade, albeit in a much quieter tone.

“Not a big deal?”, he exclaimed, emphasizing every word. The younger’s hand reached around Jongwoo’s shoulders, patting him twice. “Hyung, you asked out somebody who looks like one of those statues of Greek gods, or –“ a brief intervention for animated gestures as Seokyoon looked for the words to use, “or a prince out of a fairy tale. Like he’s so charming and handsome but also so very creepy. And he said yes? And now you’re boyfriends??”

Jongwoo shushed the other again, he had definitely riled himself up as he spoke. Seokyoon had had one coffee too much, but then again, this was his constant state of energy. Jongwoo was already drained, in the back of his mind already wishing to return to the comforting nap he had taken with Moonjo.

But alas, he had to deal with this sooner or later. A sigh, Jongwoo composed himself, willing his embarrassment to be replaced by a sterner expression.

“Okay, yes I did ask him out, but it’s really not that big of a deal. I’ll try to make this work, not because I love him,” the words made Jongwoo’s throat feel dry, vocalizing it – even in the safety of Seokyoon – was odd, “but because he is a person I’d like to be in love with. In due time.”

Seokyoon squealed again, excitement and contentment at his friend’s happiness buzzing through him.

“Hyung, you’re so romantic!”, he laughed, as Jongwoo swatted his cooing hand away.

“Maybe”, the older mused. “But come on, we have an assignment to finish.” For some reason he felt watched, though a swift, observant gaze around the library proved that nobody was looking at them in particular.

The man sitting next to him nodded feverishly. As if he hadn’t been the one to pause their working. “Of course. Wow hyung, your diligence is really amicable!”

Their professor had assigned them to write a 5-page text on the concept of “fate”, a shiver running down Jongwoo’s back. As they received the instructions, his mind had inevitably returned to yesterday evening.

And, so it seems, it wasn’t merely his own mind that easily connected the threads.

Seokyoon’s eyes widened in realization, and Jongwoo could do nothing but repress a groan as the puppy-like boy lit up once more.

“You and Moonjo-hyung, it must’ve been fate that brought you two together!”, again, his voice was too booming for Jongwoo’s liking.

Another shiver. The hair on his nape stood up, and Jongwoo motioned for the younger to finally fucking lower his voice. It caused the other to smile sheepishly, though there was still that omnipresent sparkle of glee and joy in his eyes.

“Fate is a dumb concept,” Jongwoo responded, muttering it more to himself than Seokyoon, if he was being honest.

“I like to think it’s a nice coincidence if anything. And to make this relationship work, we need more than “fate”. Both him and I need to work on ourselves, and bridge our differences”, a gulp followed to erase the heavy weight on his tongue.

“What brought us together was more Moonjo’s insistence than “fate”. And what’s keeping us together now is my will to give him a chance”, he finished, not missing the swift motion at one of the bookshelves in his peripheral vision.

Jongwoo turned, eyes wide, though the area was devoid of anybody. Then Seokyoon’s patting hand on his shoulder pulled him back to the conversation.

‘Weird… I could have sworn’, he was sure it wasn’t Moonjo. The frame was somehow stockier, the colors livelier as opposed to his boyfriend’s monotone color palette. 

“I suppose you’re right. It takes more than fate for this to work”, the other hummed. Then, Jongwoo could almost hear his heartbeat, and his brain rattling as thoughts swarmed Seokyoon’s head.

“You know, at first I was concerned”, he continued. “So I looked up some things about him, about Moonjo. And- ah don’t be alarmed, but I found something?”, his tone made the exclamation sound more like a question.

As if Seokyoon wasn’t fully believing what he was saying either. Like a ping-pong, his mood had swiftly changed from hyperactive puppy to a concerned mother.

Jongwoo sighed. “What is it? Weren’t you just jumping out of your seat because we’re dating now?”, he mumbled, reaching to turn the laptop around as the younger pulled up a website.

Before him was the site of Seoul’s daily newspaper, and it summoned a quizzical expression onto his face. But in spite of letting Jongwoo ask what was happening, Seokyoon clicked onto an article from 2012, its headline burning itself into Jongwoo’s mind.

“Local orphanage burns to the ground, leaving five dead”

Below, it read further: “No confirmation whether or not it was an accident. Suspects consisted of the oldest boy, though the caretaker was able to provide an alibi.”

A picture was adjoined, of the orphanage fully intact and its residents standing in front with bright smiles. Familiar faces, Jongwoo found, as his eyes came across a short, chubby woman with black curls, nearly forming a perfect circle around her head. She was smiling, though the expression bore a sinister tone, the lipstick-pink lips somehow too wide for sincerity. 

Seokyoon pointed at another person. “Doesn’t he look just like him?”, he inquired, thumb indicating at a scrawny, pale boy, standing taller than the others. His black hair had grown quite long, though the front of it was cut short to reveal piercing, black-hole-like eyes. And unlike the rest, he did not smile. His lips were drawn together tightly in a fine line, and somehow, he looked madder than the rest.

“That- that’s Moonjo?”, Jongwoo whispered barely audible.

‘He had mentioned growing up in an orphanage, with Ms. Eom by his side’, his mind reminded him.

The library suddenly felt tight and constricting, a stray bead of sweat forming at Jongwoo’s temple. He knew in a way that intruding on Moonjo’s life like this was exactly the kind of creepiness he detested in the other, but even so he couldn’t quite stop himself from thinking about it.

---

Even so, he opted to repress the negative assumption, and instead wait for Moonjo to talk about it himself. Perhaps he would, given they grow closer and spend more time together? Jongwoo did not want to find out entirely, but he supposed it was better than snooping around behind the other’s back.

Jongwoo was better than that – he hoped.

“So, about the contest”, Jongwoo announced, sitting on his chair, boredom seeping through as he went in circles. So much that he got dizzy, after a while, the room spinning and blending together.

Moonjo hummed, having mimicked his position. The other was also sitting in his chair, having swerved it across the room to sit next to Jongwoo – his desk being a little too cramped for both of their studying utensils.

Classical music was coming from the older’s phone, alleviating the usual silence in which they worked. It was calming and inspiring, listening to Lacrimosa and The Waltz of the Sugar Plum Fairy, almost as if the music was magically enticing his fingers to type, breathe live into his story as they wandered across the keyboard.

“You actually decided to submit something? Darling, that’s wonderful”, he mused, quirking his lips upwards in a soft manner. Supportive, Jongwoo noted, more so than any of his friends had been of his previous literary endeavors.

He nodded, fishing out a blank notebook from his desk, accompanied by a black pen. He wanted to submit something, but the problem was writing said something. Amidst the chaos floating in his mind, and all the half-assed characters he became inspired to write about, for this particular project, all he found was an unexpected emptiness whenever he actually sat down to brainstorm.

“The problem is my brain has been giving me nothing but static noise, a blank canvas that I cannot work with”, he sighed, tapping the end of the pen against the block of paper in his hand. It was frustrating to say the least, he had never been good at coping with sudden occurrences of writer’s block.

Mainly because he rarely had any, always able to escape to the world of fiction and words printed black against white whenever his emotions flared up. Then he’d create and built, before destroying, picking apart and reassembling again.

Too entranced with his own thoughts, Jongwoo did not notice Moonjo scooting closer. He only did so as the other took the notebook from his hands, stole the pen as well, and jotted down a simple question on the blank page.

How do I feel today?

Jongwoo furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the other as if he had grown another head. “Are you serious?”, he dead-panned, feeling as if the other was mocking his creativity or, well, lack thereof.

“Answer the question”, Moonjo nudged him, bearing an unusual expression of sincerity. Almost soft-looking. Jongwoo squinted at him, before picking up the pin reluctantly. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to go along with his idea.

How do I feel today?

I feel angry and confused and dissatisfied with my artistic abilities

The older nodded once more, taking the pen out off Jongwoo’s hand and writing a second question underneath.

If you had to kill somebody right now, how would you do it?

He chocked, what a sudden dispersion from the first question. This, he could respond to, maybe in a more elevated way than the previous.

I would have them sit on a chair, tied to it, and wrap my hands around their neck. I’d squeeze for a while, barely enough to hurt them, to give them a taste of what’s to come and drive them into a state of terror. Watch them realize that my face will be the last thing they’ll ever see, as their life ceases as my hands draw tighter. Then I’d strangle them, feel their heat and life drain from them and into my hands.

Jongwoo exhaled with a tired wheeze, dropping the pen after writing a paragraph. Truth be told, it made him feel better.

“Mh, we can work with this, jagiya”, Moonjo spoke, now completely getting off his chair, and moving to lounge on Jongwoo’s bed. Like this, he was able to sit behind Jongwoo, who suspected the other’s intentions to be far from innocent.

But alas, he was en route towards an idea, and that proved more important.

“How about you write a short story from a killer’s perspective, and have him murder his victims through strangulation”, the older posed.

Sure, that sounds fun. Jongwoo hummed, writing down another line underneath their quick exercise. “And who should my protagonist be? Perhaps an artist, who’s unable to achieve his goals with his art and thus realizes that his fingers itch for something livelier?”, he muttered under his breath, before looking over at Moonjo for … confirmation? Help? Adoration?

And the other certainly bore a look of curiosity and interest, genuine feelings about Jongwoo’s writing.

“That’s a great idea! But, darling, why let the murder be a substitute for the art he creates to the outside world? Perhaps he has already perfected his craft, and simply yearns for a way to branch out if you will”, he added, sparkle in his eyes as he leaned on the armrest of Jongwoo’s chair.

Again, he found himself rhythmically tipping the pen against the paper, trying to claw onto the thoughts in his head. Moonjo’s ideas were good, great even. But Jongwoo found a lack of red thread, a lack of structure, and as the proper writer between the two of them, he supposed it was his turn to retrieve it.

“Alright, let’s first clarify the artist’s way of creating art,” he began, drawing a line on the paper.

“I don’t want him to be a writer. Perhaps a painter? But I feel painting supplies are often quite lively, they run across the canvas if they want to, similar to blood and bodily fluids. They have a mind of their own, huh…”

Moonjo nodded along, leaning further into Jongwoo’s personal space. The chair creaked softly as Moonjo put his elbows firmly on the armrest. It’s like he was itching to get closer to Jongwoo, to read every word directly from his lips and be encaged by the artist’s magic working.

“So, a musician would be best”, Jongwoo continued, tapping his hands against the surface now, digit after digit, the fingertips emitting a soft thud as they collided with the paper.

Moonjo quirked an eyebrow, watching the other’s motion. “A pianist, maybe?”, he added.

Like an eclipse shining before his eyes, Jongwoo felt blinded for a brief moment, stopping in his movement. He lived an ‘eureka’ moment, almost feeling inclined to turn his head and kiss Moonjo in gratitude.

He licked his lips, unconsciously, looking back around at Moonjo, whose eyes did not look like black holes but sun eclipses as the shine in his pupils grew bigger.

“That’s brilliant!”, he beamed instead, relishing in the equally as shining grin that blooms on Moonjo’s face.

For a moment, it was just them, grinning at each other, and then Jongwoo snapped out of his daze. ‘I’ve already kissed him enough. I need to work now!’, he told himself, though the notion lingered in the back of his mind.

Instead, he returned to the sheet of paper and scrawled the word ‘pianist’ down. He’d get to fleshing out the character soon enough and delving further into the psychology of him. Maybe ask Junghwa for some insight.

“That’ll do for now, thank you so much! How was your day, I haven’t even asked?”, Jongwoo turned back around, connecting their eyes. To think that he was afraid of talking to Moonjo face-to-face, barely any distance between them, and now he was initiating conversation after just brainstorming a murderer with the other.

Moonjo shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly, leaning down further to curl over the armrest, and half-heartedly place himself into Jongwoo’s lap.

The younger chuckled fondly. He really was adorable sometimes. When he wasn’t creepy, which recently, Jongwoo had had the pleasure of experiencing less often. In fact, seeing Moonjo lovingly gaze at him like this, Moonjo who visibly seemed so intimidating and dangerous, made his heart flutter.

“Fun I suppose. We dissected a body in class,” Moonjo explained, and it took a lot of Jongwoo’s willpower not to snort at the answer. Though the soft jerk he inevitably did, Moonjo could feel, and he squeezed the younger’s waist in a playful manner.  “It was highly informative, might I add”, he continued.

But that only made Jongwoo giggle more. “To be honest I always contemplated writing about a doctor. Wouldn’t they be great murderers, given their extensive knowledge of the body and how to exert pain or alleviate it?”, he murmured, bending down as well to curl around Moonjo’s form.

He drew both arms under the other’s armpits and hoisting him upwards. Though, it was mainly out of luck and Moonjo’s aiding him that he was able to hold him. Moonjo, frail and thin as he was, was tall and unmovable if he wanted.

“Also, don’t lounge like that. You’re already old, we don’t want you to get back problems”, he grinned, squeaking embarrassingly as Moonjo pinched his waist in retaliation.

Happiness bloomed in his chest, despite the caged position he was currently in. Trapped between Moonjo’s tall frame and the back of his chair, there was little space to move towards.

Perhaps Moonjo was hiding something from him, but at this point in life, he couldn’t bring himself to part with him anymore.

“Jagiya, I’m afraid you won’t be getting any kisses if you’re going to be so cheeky”, he whispered into Jongwoo’s ear, amused tone only riling the younger up even more.

Jongwoo’s right hand moved down to the adjustment lever of his chair, pulling it upwards until he felt the full-body wheeze drawn out of Moonjo’s body as he lost balance stumbling downwards and toppled over Jongwoo.

“Yah, you’re one to talk. You wouldn’t even manage an hour without begging me for one!”

Jongwoo barely escaped Moonjo’s grasp before the other gave a peck to his ear shell, knowing fully that it was the older who was the needier and far more touch-starved person out of the pair.

“Darling, isn’t that what you love about me?”, Moonjo smiled, though Jongwoo could only imagine the expression, his boyfriend’s face firmly nudged into the crook of his neck.

He supposed.

It was certainly one of the most pleasant parts of Moonjo.

Chapter Text

“Do you have any plans for the holidays?”

It’s a question posed out of the blue, as both of them stand side by side in the bathroom. Jongwoo has his toothbrush in one hand. Moonjo has his in his mouth, brushing feverously, hair still sticking all over the place. He looked cute almost, drowsy from a good night’s sleep. Jongwoo had realized just how affectionate Moonjo could be – sleeping on one small university dormitory bed proved no challenge to the older boy who gratuitously splayed himself stomach-first onto Jongwoo’s torso.

After sharing lazy kisses before turning to feverously making out neither of them had any energy left to crawl back into their respective beds, and thus Moonjo had taken the opportunity to cuddle Jongwoo’s tired body, who couldn’t really find it in him to be annoyed about it. His back was killing him however, in a manner different to what he was used to with the elder.

The boy looking back at Jongwoo from his reflection in the mirror looks tired, worn-out. Eyebags under his eyes, and his shoulders seem to sag under the weight of his sleeping shirt. From the collar, purple and red spots peak forth, and if he were to squint, he might have been able to see the slight indent of teeth against his neck.

Not that he enjoyed the image. Not that Moonjo looked any less like a crime scene.

There was a red mark against the older man’s jaw – which Jongwoo was not sorry for in the slightest, not after Moonjo had nipped his neck like that – and a trail of hickeys on his neck and collarbones. However, those were mostly hidden from other people’s sight behind Moonjo’s high-collared shirts as well. To the younger boy’s surprise, Moonjo had even dabbed a concealer stick onto the evidence littering his neck, blending out the makeup with precision. Suddenly, it wasn’t even a problem anymore, their antics concealed behind both a layer of cloth and a layer of makeup.

‘He’s gonna to have to let me borrow it sometimes’, Jongwoo mused, before returning to his own jumble of thoughts.

As he stood in front of the mirror, Jongwoo had come to conclude he didn’t even know why. Why were they making out yesterday? Was it just because? Was that what couples did – just make out for the fun of it?

Somehow the idea was exhilarating. The spontaneity of it all, and the fact that it was Moonjo out of all people.

The fact that it was him who got to kiss his scars and trail his hands down his muscular torso and bite his jaw until red bruises formed akin to a mark.

It was as surreal as exciting. Jongwoo turned to spit the bubbled-up toothpaste into the sink and comb his hair, but mainly to hide the growing flush on his neck.

“Hmm, no I don’t, jagi”, Moonjo answered. He too spit the mixture of saliva and toothpaste into the sink, before looking back up to Jongwoo - the action sweeping his curtain bangs to the side. He grinned up at the younger boy, and for a second Jongwoo could do nothing but gulp down saliva and stare at the dazzling eyes blinking up at him.

“Oh, well, I-,” he stuttered, leaning down to the sink to wash his face with cold water in order to alleviate the redness on his cheeks.

“I was wondering if you’d want to come to Busan with me. My mom said she’d be alright with me bringing someone home and I would like to take you with me.”

Jongwoo looked at the other boy through the mirror, his own face now flushed red and dripping water.

Moonjo looked … stunned? Almost surprised at the question, and somehow there was still a rosy tint to his cheeks as his smile returned sweetly.

“I’ve never really spent Christmas with family,” he whispered, eyes locked on Jongwoo’s own. Vulnerability in his voice, accompanied by an almost teary sound.

Jongwoo reached his hand out to graze down from Moonjo’s shoulder blade to the dip of his waist in a soothing manner. “Then it’s long overdue, don’t you think? I’d really love you coming to Busan with me,” he tries again, lowering his own voice to match his boyfriend.

And it’s true. He doesn’t know his mother’s nor his brother’s view on anything that wasn’t heterosexuality, but he’d get through it, somehow. With Moonjo by his side; and if everything went well, the older boy would experience a nice Christmas holiday with loved ones. 

At the strengthened proposal, Moonjo’s resolves seemed to melt a little, barely enough to give way to his heart and pour it all out. He smiled, almost shyly, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. “Well, if you say so, jagiya. I’ll think about it, okay?”  

---

They had made out for a couple of minutes afterwards, before Moonjo politely excused himself in favor of arriving to class on time. Jongwoo might have sulked a little, lower lips plush between his teeth, but the effect did nothing to stray the ever so studious older boy from his path.

So the younger boy was left to his own devices in the dorm room. His phone indicated it was still a long time until his 10am class, and his head was aching for a big cup of coffee. And maybe some sugar as well. He had a job interview in the afternoon and promised Junghwa and Seokyoon to join them at the library, and in a way, Jongwoo was already dreading his day being packed to the brim with social activities.

Coffee would be the only thing keeping him from turning back around and jumping into his cozy bed, still lingering with the scent and body heat of his boyfriend from the previous night.

‘Moonjo would be horrified,’ he chuckled to himself, reminiscing about the older boy’s nagging of his horrible dietary choices, especially when it came to breakfast. He slipped into his sneakers and reached for the jacket displayed ungraciously over Jongwoo’s desk chair.

Unfortunately, Jongwoo was barely down the first flight of stairs when he comes face to face with a mass of purple bruises. Or well, with Jaeho who happened to have a mass of purple bruises on his face. And certainly not the pleasurable kind but rather the one he’d have sustained after a bad fist fight.

He managed to contain a chuckle at the other man’s appearance. “What happened?”, then curiosity took over before he could even ask about Jaeho’s wellbeing. Not that he really cared anyways.

The other looked distressed and indignant, left eye slightly swollen from a bruise hitting just above his cheekbone. But most of all, Jaeho looked angry – seething at a temperature that would burn the entire dormitory building to the ground in the mere blink of an eye.

“Don’t try to be funny, Jongwoo-ya!” he spit out, clenching his jaw to the point where Jongwoo could almost hear his teeth crushing against each other. Jaeho gesticulated wildly in an effort to intimidate him, trying his utmost to establish some sense of superiority once again, but all Jongwoo wanted to do was add to the bruises and maybe laugh a little.

He hadn’t even answered his question, and yet Jaeho was hellbent on demanding, demanding, demanding.

“I asked you what happened, hyung”, he reiterated, voice flat with disinterest, though he added a sneering tone upon pronouncing the honorific. Who even managed to deck the oh-so-perfect Jaeho like this? Not that Jongwoo was surprised, with the amount of flirtatious comments coming out of his mouth and the amount of one-night-stands Jaeho had gone through in his life.

Surely one of them must have resulted in him angering a boyfriend or something. Hopefully.

Jongwoo liked the look of Jaeho beaten out of his confident and conceited shell.

“You brat, don’t act like you don’t know that your boyfriend did this! I had to go to the hospital, Jongwoo. Who’s going to pay for the bills, huh? I’m going to call my lawyer over this I swear to you!”, he yells in one long breath, spit flying at Jongwoo’s face which he wipes off with a disgruntled expression.

Jaeho is fuming at this point, smoke exiting his ears. Figuratively, obviously, but Jongwoo feels the need to back up in order to escape Jaeho’s temper tantrum.

And what is he even saying? Jongwoo nearly choked on his own saliva upon hearing the culprit of Jaeho’s assault. “My boyfriend did this? Why would he, he’s a med student, he has better things to do,” he simply stated, leaning against the wall but never breaking the eye-contact with Jaeho.

In his imagination, Jaeho had insulted Moonjo – or Jongwoo – and the other boy had flashed Jaeho his signature grin with pearly white teeth before tearing them into his conceited expression, punching his nose until it was left swollen and nicking his left cheekbone with his sharp knuckles, leaving a visible mark on it. The mental image was exhilarating almost, but Jongwoo quickly shoved the ideas down under again.

‘I suppose I’ll have to inquire  Moonjo about the details later’, he giggled to himself.

But the answer only seemed to rattle the elder more. He let out an exasperated laugh, stemming his hand into his side. “Are you kidding?”, Jaeho swipes a lock of hair out of his field of vision, as it had curled inward to stick to his skin growing sweaty from perspiration.

“I don’t care that he’s a med student, he still beat me up! God that guy is mental, he’s a nutcase, you should have him better under control!” Jaeho cried, now verging on hysteria, to Jongwoo’s silent delight.

‘Moonjo really beat him up, but why? Was it just to rid himself of pent-up frustration?’, Jongwoo pondered, still keeping his gaze on Jaeho’s face. The other’s arrogant words did not even faze him in the slightest. Frankly, he could spit out all of the slurs and degrading phrases Jaeho’s  mind could conjure up and it still wouldn’t change how Jongwoo wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the elder’s pathetic spiel.

As if he was going to reprimand his boyfriend, when Jaeho had been fucking with him for nearly all of his life. In fact, the idea made him feel a little warm inside, protected almost, even if the rational part of his brain could somehow still interject that it was still a bit of a red flag to go around punching people.

Nevertheless, Jongwoo pushed past the other, resting a hand on Jaeho’s shoulder in good-bye.

“Hyung. I’m not expected to keep my boyfriend under control, he’s not a fucking dog. And I’m sure you deserved what was coming your way. You always run your mouth with disregard to other people,” Jongwoo spoke, taking care to put as much of a nonchalant tinge onto his words as possible, and delighting in Jaeho’s ever-increasing rage. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get some coffee before classes.”

And with one final if condescending pat to the older boy’s shoulder, Jongwoo continued what he originally stepped outside to do.

Smile on his face at being able to render Jaeho speechless for once. And the fact that Moonjo did something to the one person he hated the most. It felt nice, in a way, albeit the creepiness the action held. But nobody had ever stood up to Jaeho like that in support of Jongwoo except for Moonjo.

---

The interview went well overall, with Jongwoo being fueled from the early-morning encounter with Jaeho AND coffee. Caffeine rushed through his blood-stream while the adrenaline accumulated from Jaeho’s mindless accusations kept him energetic.

Classes turned out to be a greater hill to overcome despite his catalysts. But he found himself capable of pushing through several hours of talking about yet another famous poet and his intricate word puzzles that his professor wanted analyzed, and another class on even more tedious literary subjects, if only to continue with the interview, his library date and somehow end up back home with Moonjo again. His fingers were already itching to cuddle his boyfriend again, and it was barely half past 4 pm.

The past couple of days, he had been perusing online websites for any jobs he could apply to and ended up finding a bakery-café he had definitely bought coffee from at one point since arriving in Seoul. It was quaint, small and a comfortable distance by both foot and public transport.

“Well, Mr. Yoon,” the lady who had been interviewing him spoke. To his eyes, she was the epitome of an elderly woman running a baked goods shop with adjoined café. A little stern and motherly, soft-spoken and somehow smelling of citrus fruits and coffee beans. “you’d certainly make a great addition to our team, and your past references are quite impeccable I have to say.”

She sends him another smile, quickly glancing over the list of summer jobs and part-time jobs Jongwoo had taken on over the course of his life.

“You’ll be hearing from us about our decision by the end of this week”, she assures him, before initiating their good-bye.

“I’ll be awaiting your response. Have a good day,” Jongwoo stands up after her to bow politely.

The additional money flow to his bank account and the prospect of coffee at his disposition all day long was quite enticing, and he could easily go there by foot. He hoped the lady felt compelled enough to hire him, but for now the writing contest bore the bigger cause of his stress and anxiety.

Absentmindedly, he began chewing on his lower lips, getting on the bus without much of a care for anything else. He had marked the deadline carefully in his calendar, and as a result, the date was blaring at him in a bold font every time Jongwoo opened his phone.

The 31^st of December. A date he’d also been subconsciously dreading due to the holiday it parted almost evenly.

For some reason, Jongwoo didn’t want to spend the holiday break alone back home in Busan, with only his mother and his brother for company, in spite of being family. And for once, neither Junghwa nor Jieun were adequate either. In fact, he was sure they had other plans, being much more socially active than him.

The truth was a bit harsh but simple. If Moonjo didn’t come with him to spend the holidays, Jongwoo would feel alone once more for the duration of the two weeks. He bit into his lower lip harder than intended and hissed at the sudden surge of pain, turning his head to gaze out the window to avoid looking at other passengers.

And in addition to his holiday problem, the writing contest was approaching and Jongwoo had few ideas safe for the one’s he had grown together with Moonjo. He sighed, watching the scenery pass him by outside the bus’s window.

‘I’ll just pester Junghwa and Seokyoon to help me’, he grumbled to himself. Surely Seokyoon would be able to spring something forth, after having spent the past few months in his creative writing class. And if not, Junghwa might be helpful.

---

As it turned out, both of his predictions, though hopeful, were futile.

Jongwoo sighed into his hands clasped together. After deleting what he had been conjuring up for the third time, his laptop gave way to a tantalizing white document, only the notes from his brainstorming session with Moonjo remaining as a guideline.

He had sat down upon arrival, trying his best to type, to write down something. Junghwa had provided both him and the as always energetic Seokyoon with coffee, even though Jongwoo was still somewhat brimming with energy from his previous cold brew. With the familiar scent and feel of oncoming writer’s block, he too felt his animated state of self dissipate slowly.

“Oh, yes, the contest I heard about it! You’ll be submitting something?”, Seokyoon grinned from his side of the table. Before him, he had splayed out two textbooks and music notes, his laptop showing a variety of colorful screenshots of a musical production.

Jongwoo nodded, sipping his coffee.

“I’ve written a little bit already, but I only have a month left to work on it”, he explained, perhaps a little hesitant on baring his two friends the gruesome nature of his story.

Junghwa however, seemed to guess it anyways. Jongwoo had been wanting to inquire her about possible corrections from a psychology major’s point of view as well, so he was glad she felt interested.

“What’s the story about? The contest is for crime, right?”

Again, he nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I’m writing about a pianist who’s actually a serial killer. Moonjo helped me come up with that one,” he explained, fondly thinking back to their evening together.

He didn’t miss the smug grimace that briefly grazed Junghwa’s face upon hearing the other’s name. But she smoothly morphed her expression into a gentle smile. “A murdering pianist? That sounds quite interesting actually,” she responded.

“Apropos Moonjo,” taking a sharp turn, her eyes now glistened with something mischievous. It even made Seokyoon’s head perk up from between his music notes. Seokyoon who he had already talked to about this. On the other boy's face, a sly grin formed, though he stayed quiet.

“Are you guys actually dating now? You’ve also been smiling more in the past week than ever in the past 6 months.”

Jongwoo laughed at her accusations, though he could not suppress the embarrassed whine that accompanied it. His eyes darted towards Seokyoon, desperately wanting to convey something along the lines of 'don't you dare say anything right now'. He hoped Junghwa didn't catch him, not when she was already that good at seeing right through him. Psychology major that she was.

“Maybe,” he instead bit out. Once again, it felt odd to confess to their relationship without having talked about it with Moonjo beforehand. But Jongwoo ached to talk to somebody about what had been happening with the older boy. Jongwoo glanced over to Seokyoon who was now biting his lips to avoid laughter coming out. 'He better be,' Jongwoo's mind seethed.

In constrast, Junghwa's face only lit up with glee at the two-syllable word.

“Well, we’re not together like that,” he lied, “but I, we’ve made out and stuff.” Seokyoon looked away with a grin.

And stuff. They’ve slept together, but Jongwoo couldn’t let that secret go just yet. Not with Nosey Nelly 1 and Nosey Nelly 2 (who already knew the truth) sitting in front of him. Seokyoon would laugh at him and beg to know all of the details in record time if he only so much as insinuated it, and Jongwoo had at least enough self-respect to not recount all of that. It was already enough having him know about their actual relationship status.

“Ooohh and tell me, is he a good kisser?” Seokyoon interjected, his academic focus completely left abandoned. The grin on his face now almost paralleled Moonjo's chesire cat ones. And Jongwoo had never felt more inclined to kick at the other's legs under the desk like a child.

Jongwoo could only sigh once more. Of course Seokyoon would ask that. Yes, Moonjo was a great kisser, but his friends didn’t need to know. They wouldn’t be kissing him anyways.

“Sort of, I guess.”

“Be sure to tell us when you’ve slept together, okay?” Now it was Junghwa’s turn to pose the dumb questions and make Jongwoo’s flush grow brighter.

“No?? And that’s not what I want to talk about!”, he quickly steered out of the danger zone, retreating from whatever they had in mind. At least they were supportive, he repeated in his head. Which, unfortunately, was probably more than Jongwoo would get from his own family.

“Alright alright, your story. Do you need us to come up with ideas?”, Junghwa returned to the topic of his literary meltdown.

He answered with a feverish shake of his head. He could at least listen to their ideas and refute them afterwards if they were unusable.

“Well, so far, I’ve got my protagonist. He’s a pianist and he strangles his victims to death. It’s a contrast to the cold, inanimate piano keys he usually touches – the heat that dying people emit into his hands.”

Both Junghwa and Seokyoon nod attentively, but Jongwoo can see that the latter seems a little bit grossed out by the premise. If not intrigued. But Seokyoon quickly reassures him, that his own prowess in crime literature is below average if anything.

“Ah, hyung, I don’t think I’ll be of great use with ideas. Maybe you could make it a happy ending where the killer gets found by the police? Like, one of his victims manages to escape, because he was inebriated or distracted or something,” he offers, twirling a fountain pen between his index finger and thumb.

Jongwoo lets the idea ruminate a little. The premise of a victim escaping due to him being distracted – perhaps by his superficially known art? – is quite enticing to use.

But Jongwoo doesn’t want the “happy ending” of the murderer being caught and the evil force being rid. It seems to easy, too lazy even. That’s not real life.

Jongwoo doesn’t say it like that.

“That actually doesn’t sound half bad. I like the idea of somebody escaping, thanks.”

Seokyoon beams a toothy smile at him for it. It makes the slightly dumb suggestion a little better in Jongwoo’s eyes.

He lets his fingers fall against the keyboard in a calming rhythm, not really writing anything. Merely adds a short ‘maybe have a victim escape’ to his notes. Then skips down several paragraphs.

He hums into the emptying cup of coffee. “The first scene is him torturing a person, but it reads like he’s playing music. Afterwards, he has a performance, during which he recalls his victim and is later awarded for his grandiose artistry. But then what?”, Jongwoo tries again.

Junghwa gnaws at the tip of her pen in deep thought. Then, she takes a sip of coffee as well before leaning onto her open palm with her elbow placed firmly on the table.  

“Alright, so the beginning is already going to shock your audience, right? Maybe, have it “fizzle” out a little before the next,” she tries, pausing a little as if searching for the right word. “the next crescendo?”

“Like an actual piano piece?”, Jongwoo inquires, a little interested in whatever Junghwa is spinning before him.

Too bad Seokyoon possesses few knowledge about pianos, but he could pester him for music terms. Or would it be too cliché to structure his short story after a piano piece? He might go over that with Moonjo, but the idea certainly finds its place on the document in front of him.

“Then again, you could also just keep the audience at the same amount of shock, but it’ll be harder to heighten the tension towards the end”, Junghwa continues.

“Hmm, but I’m not sure if the committee won’t think my story too gruesome if I don’t lessen the blow a little. And then go all out for the end”, Jongwoo retorts, already chewing on his lower lip again.

Seokyoon had abandoned their conversation rather quietly in favor of his own assignment. But truth be told, he wasn’t very helpful with his ideas. At the very least, the study session would have his own schoolwork see a finished product.

“Alright, I’ll try to write a little now. Thanks for your help”, he announced, searching for his headphones with the sudden urge to once again listen to Lacrimosa as he types his way through writer’s block.

Junghwa nods with a small smile, and puts her own headphones back in, plunging the three of them into a comfortable silence of working on their respective projects.

He’s still a little bit unsure where to start, or what to write, but as the music notes begin taking him somewhere else, alleviating his worries, the words begin to flow. A little bit rugged at first, but they quickly flow with the smooth movements of the classical piece in his ears.

Jongwoo’s pianist is tall, a little lanky but muscular enough to dispose of his bodies with ease. Intimidating, especially if you’d see him at night, even though his face shows nothing short of perfection and grace.

A little bit like a fairy tale prince, Jongwoo’s mind adds. Plush lips that are ever so slightly chapped and dark eyes. Alabaster skin and long fingers that make it look even more elegant, as they swerve across the piano keys with precision. On days he sleeps too little, his pianist looks almost sickly.

It’s when the façade cracks and threatens to expose the bloodthirst swirling around beneath the porcelain skin.

He’s a loner, Jongwoo figures. Nobody would want to be with him, either because of fear or admiration. The pianist holds himself higher than others, he doesn’t need them and doesn’t fancy associating with them. Or perhaps he’ll find somebody once, who he’ll be less careful with, who’ll eventually become his demise.

Jongwoo puts the idea between two parentheses, still on the fence about whether or not to put his killer behind bars at the end of the story. It would be an unsatisfying ending, when the audience has followed the serial killer’s thoughts all along. To them, it might even seem wrong.

And maybe he also doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of a clear division nor a decision already made for them. A clear distinction between good and bad, and an obvious morale to end the narrative, that evil people will get their punishment no matter what the extent of their intellect.

The more his document is filled with blackened letters, the more Jongwoo realizes that Moonjo was right in a way. He understood him, and his desire, his need to write. His desire to put tales onto the pages that other people felt afraid of telling, because it was easier to ignore.

And despite their best efforts, Junghwa and Seokyoon found it easier to ignore as well.

Junghwa attempted to help with the basic structure and Seokyoon gave an easy way out.

Moonjo extracted the dark ideas from Jongwoo’s own depths and pulled them forward into the warm light of his own honeyed, encouraging words.

Jongwoo walked home in a hurry after three more hours at the library. Seokyoon had insisted on the three of them getting a quick dinner, and suddenly it was so much later than Jongwoo anticipated. For the most part, he passed the time by his own thoughts deviating to Moonjo, slowly imagining the pianist on the white page as his charming boyfriend.

Dark hair, pale skin. An odd and creepy appearance, and a charisma that still draws people to him.

‘I’m so fucking tired, I just want to fall asleep with Moonjo’, his thoughts were like a one-track mind repeating the other’s name as if he were a lovesick maiden despite only having parted ways in the early morning.

But as he opened their door, the room was still dark, and the curtains drawn together from how they left them in the morning.

Jongwoo sighs, figure slugging slightly. Fingers fumbled for his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, tapping on his most recently added contact.

Jongwoo, 8:59 pm

Hey, just got home. Where are you?

 

He tossed his phone onto the bed to at least get changed from the heavy denim fabric weighing him down.

With a brief glance to Moonjo’s closet, a thought flashed through his mind, mixture of neediness and exhaustion muddling his rationality.

‘Surely Moonjo wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a sweater from him?’, he mumbled quietly, already reaching for the doorknob. In front of him was the vast array of black sweaters Moonjo possessed. It was laughable, but the calming scent of Moonjo that accompanied the pieces of clothing was more important to Jongwoo than the fact that his boyfriend’s closet looked like that of a cartoon character.

In a decisive move, he pulled out the first sweater that caught his eye, and quickly swapped it for his own t-shirt. The sleeves were a bit too long, resulting in a mean case of cat paws if Jongwoo didn’t roll the ends up.

But it was warm and comfortable, and smelled of Moonjo. Jongwoo sighed in content, and just like that his mood was lifted. A little.

Jongwoo returned to his bed, having discarded his jeans on the way, and settled under the cover.

Moonjo, 9:05 pm

Jagiyaaa, I’ll have to be at the lab longer than expected. Don’t wait up on me, alright? <3

He almost snorted out loud at the heart.

“Sure,” he mumbled into the quiet of their room, already content with the sweater hugging his torso, even if it wasn’t the real Moonjo. He was too tired to wait much longer anyways. And how could he refuse his boyfriend if he’s already stolen his sweater?

Jongwoo, 9:06 pm

Will do. Goodnight, hope everything goes well!

He sends, before turning around to draw the covers over himself. Barely a minute passes until Jongwoo turns back around to add another text.

Jongwoo, 9:06 pm

<3

Chapter Text

Barely three days had passed before Jongwoo was rudely woken up by his phone ringing through the dorm room. With a grumbling noise and a rather weak shove to get Moonjo’s body off his own in order to reach the object of annoyance, he picked up.

It was 9am, way too early to be on the phone for Jongwoo’s liking.

“Hello?”, he responded, cringing internally at the obvious sleepiness in his voice. The caller on the other end, however, spoke in a much too cheery tone. Another blow to his waking up.

“Ah, Yoon Jongwoo?” they ask. In the back of his head, stray names and appearances float around, although none of them really fit the voice he’s talking too. Jongwoo only hums a clear ‘yes’ in return. Or he attempts to, voice cracking a little.

“Perfect. I’m pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the business. You’ll have to sign some papers still, but when would you be able to start?”, the person continues and finally it clicks inside Jongwoo’s brain, images of the bakery and his job interview coming back. Perhaps he was simply waking up from one of the best nights of sleep in a while.

With feathery light movements, Moonjo’s arm snaked back around his waist to hold onto him, but Jongwoo willed himself to ignore the warm touch. Jongwoo’s unoccupied hand reaches downwards to curl around Moonjo’s arm and hold him steady.

“Today?”, it came out more as a question rather than a statement, but Jongwoo still ran over his mental calendar of the day. He could start working that day, but the idea of staying at home was much more tempting, although the money even more so.

The lady on the other side of the line seemingly skipped his odd intonation with ease, erupting into a cheerful exclamation. “Oh, that would be wonderful! Could you come in at 3pm?”

Again, Jongwoo agrees, ending the call after a mutual good-bye. He moves to set his alarm for midday, and finally falls back into his boyfriend’s embrace with a sleepy groan.

---

His alarm rang way too soon. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

The bed was already empty – to no surprise, Moonjo was still a diligent student and highly interested in attending class. Jongwoo had stretched upon waking, limbs trying to catch the remaining warmth etched into the sheets. But after another moment, he forced himself out of bed, getting ready for his new job.

Needless to say, work was a surprise in all the worst ways of the word. Jongwoo arrived on time, and still managed to get his co-worker yelling at him for being late. The man was a little stocky and shorter than Jongwoo by an inch or two, clad in the brown beige work uniform. A foreboding headache made itself known as Jongwoo retained his demure expression.

“If that’s your work ethic, I really don’t know why-why you were hired,” the man said, leading him back towards the staff room. Both the annoyingly condescending tone and the lack of a formal introduction had Jongwoo dreading work in a matter of minutes. He rolled his eyes, walking after the man.  

“Do-do you have any experience in working in food service?”, the other man asks, handing him the same neutrally colored uniform. Jongwoo reluctantly accepts the pack of clothes and shakes his head ‘no’ in response to the question.

Another bizarre look on his co-worker’s face.

“I have, but it’s been a while since my last job at a food service. I preferred factory jobs,” he elaborates, keeping his voice steady and cool, even though his eyes itched to roll back into his skull far enough to evade looking at the other man. But he wouldn’t lose even an ounce of composure, not on his first day.

“If I may ask, what’s your name? I’m Yoon Jongwoo.”

The man scoffs a little, further igniting the angry fire in Jongwoo’s head. “Of course, I know that already. You’re the new h-hire. My name is Byeongmin.”

Jongwoo nods again, gripping the uniform tighter, knuckles burning a little.

‘Can’t you give me a normal, respectful response?’

“I’m excited to work with you, Byeongmin-ssi!”, he lies. Then Jongwoo is ushered towards the bathroom to change into his work uniform. The colours looked boring, a little too monochromatic with his dark brown hair and slightly tanned skin from back home. It smelled of coffee and backed goods as well, although he supposed that came with working at a bakery.

Jongwoo gave another quick glance into the mirror, futile attempt at combing his rugged bangs to the side. Then he exited the room, his sense of smell leading him into the bakery’s kitchen. He didn’t feel like crossing paths with Byeongmin anymore, and it seemed like the other man was avoiding him as well, no where to be found behind the counter nor in the staff room.

Maybe he was on a break? Smoking a cigarette? But without any notice whatsoever, that felt a little bizarre.

Jongwoo disregarded his doubts, Byeongmin seemed like the type of co-worker to go on a break unannounced. He entered the kitchen instead, humming along to the pop song coming from the bakery’s speakers.  

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes fixated on the task of rolling out dough on the countertop, was another co-worker. Jongwoo stands in the doorway for a brief moment, pondering over whether or not he should go up to the woman and ask for instructions. In contrast to Byeongmin, she is tall and slim and in spite of her face being contorted into an ugly expression of concentration, she seems much nicer than the former.

He gulped his self-doubt down and pushed himself forward.

The woman looked up at the sound of his footsteps, slight confusion accompanied by a friendly smile.

“Hello, I’m the new hire, I’m not really sure on what to do,” he quietly asks, careful not to annoy nor distract the woman in her process. If Byeongmin didn’t care to tell him what to do, he’d have to resort to other employees. He barely passed the 10 minute mark at his new job and Jongwoo was already seething with anger for his co-workers. Co-worker actually. Singular.

He hoped the woman in front of him was nicer than Byeongmin.

“Oh?”, she mumbles, straightening her posture in order to look Jongwoo properly in the eyes. The rolling pin was still settled in her right hand, and there was a spritz of flour on her brown apron. “I didn’t see you here, hello!”

Then, she gave him a quick do-over, before smiling softly. Jongwoo felt the hairs on his neck stand up slightly at the odd attention. “Call me Yoojeong. Wasn’t Byeongmin supposed to teach you the basics and show you around?”, her tone changes to concerned, eyebrows furrowing.

Jongwoo felt torn between pulling a grimace laced with schadenfreude or giving Yoojeong, who he hoped wasn’t the only nice co-worker around, a sincere smile. In the end, he opted for the latter, more than grateful for the tall woman acknowledging Byeongmin’s annoying behaviour.

“Ah, yes, Byeongmin. We didn’t really start off on the best note and I can’t seem to find him anywhere to ask him what to do,” he mumbled in response, fidgeting with the hem of his apron.

“Well, he can be a little bit off at first, don’t worry. He’s a lot nicer than you’d expect at first,” Jongwoo didn’t think that was true at all, “but I’ll help you in the meantime.”

Jongwoo nodded, still a little unsure of how to behave.

“Alright, uh, so should I work the counter?”

Yoojeong chewed her lower lip in thought, leaning her body weight onto her one hand gripping the counter, before she looked back up towards Jongwoo. “It would be great if you could. You’re definitely not suited for kitchen work on your first day here, so I’ll quickly teach you how to work the cash register.”

Again, another nod from Jongwoo. He really really wanted to go home again.

Yoojeong, as it turned out, was a sweetheart. An angel in comparison to Byeongmin, really. She had patiently explained the mechanisms of the register, and even taken over the first customer to show Jongwoo how to address them properly.

Despite the brain fog in his mind, and the headache threatening to crumble his composure if Byeongmin were to show up again, Jongwoo paid attention to her explanation. Be polite to the customers, be patient, even if they take longer than expected and be sure to inform them about the daily specialties.

 After a while, Byeongmin showed up again, obvious scent of nicotine following him. Jongwoo’s face contorted with annoyance, as the cigarette smell gave a jarring edge to the overall sweet scent encompassing the building.

“Who-who told you to work at the counter?”, he asked upon seeing Jongwoo. It made him nearly wrap his hands around the annoying man’s chubby neck and draw them together tightly.

‘What a fucking prick’, he rolled his eyes, not too keen on explaining himself.

“Yoojeong told me to do it, because she’s busy baking and working in the kitchen,” he mused, not even bothered to look at Byeongmin. Another scoff came his way from the other man.

“What? Why aren’t you addressing her politely? She’s older than you,” he spit out, head turning a little red with anger.

“She told me to just say ‘Yoojeong’, so she probably doesn’t mind,” he continued. A customer came through the door, and it was all Jongwoo needed to return his attention somewhere else again.

Byeongmin’s seething face be damned.

“Hello, welcome to Dalbit Coffee & Cake. What can I do for you?” he recites like Yoojeong did just minutes before. He added a smile as well, more than grateful when Byeongmin receded from the counter with a judgmental huff.

---

The door falls back into place as he lets himself into the dormitory. Jongwoo’s feet drag along the carpeted floor like a set of heavy anvils, and his head is still reeling from Byeongmin’s antics spanning the entire afternoon. After the first customer, he had come back again to order him away to cleaning the tables and the counter. Jongwoo had also seen the other man blatantly checking out Yoojeong’s figure as they closed the store in the evening.

Jongwoo was positively surprised of his own temper and the fact that he didn’t immediately deck Byeongmin, but merely asked Yoojeong to help him close the register.

A feat deserving of a nobel price, really.

But boy, Jongwoo was fucking tired.

“I’m back,” he mumbles, more to himself than to the other person sitting on their bed. Moonjo looks up with a quick smile, eyes on full display as his black locks were pulled backwards in a haphazardly done bun. Jongwoo cannot help but return the demure smile, as he sets his shoes down neatly.

Moonjo still hadn’t moved, back propped up against all of his and Jongwoo’s pillows combined. His boyfriend looks comfortable, inviting even.

‘I want to go to bed,’ rolls through Jongwoo’s head like a mantra. Particularly he’d like to fall asleep with the other, and tonight he wouldn’t even mind Moonjo’s tight embrace and clingy tendency.

“We haven’t spent a lot of time together,” comes then, from Moonjo’s mouth. It’s neither accusatory nor inquisitory. A statement, with the older man’s usual neutrality encapsulating it.

Jongwoo furrows his brows.

“We just cuddled in the morning, and I’m definitely going to cuddle with you again today?”, his own response comes out like a question.

A pout is visible on Moonjo’s face, as he stretches from his cramped studying position. For a short moment, they stand there, looking at each other, although Jongwoo cannot really place the other’s emotions. He’s tired from work, and the place next to Moonjo on the bed is looking mighty comfortable.

“Jagi,” he murmurs into the room, “I mean going out and stuff. I’m fully content with cuddling with you, but I’d like to spend some time outside the dorms as well.”

He pushes a hand through his hair, even though his bangs are swooped into a bun. Creature of habit, Jongwoo supposed.

“So what, you want to take me on a date?”, his sleepy self adds to the conversation. The words slips past his lips faster than his brain can catch up, and upon finally realizing their content, he feels the light blush rising in his face.

Which is, quite honestly more embarrassing than the actual question, he muses. Blushing over the idea of going on a date? Jongwoo was truly gone beyond salvation.

They’ve slept together before and made out more than a healthy amount of times. A date would have been step 1 on the ladder of their interesting relationship trajectory, but apparently both him and Moonjo skipped past it with ease.

The other hummed from his seated position, now reaching his hands out towards Jongwoo. “Of course. If that’s what you want, jagi,” he answers, which almost makes Jongwoo’s heart summersault again.

An invitation to make himself comfortable besides Moonjo. Jongwoo gladly takes it, letting himself fall onto the mattress. Slumber encompasses him in a moment’s notice, but it’s thankfully enough to remember the caring circles Moonjo’s hand traces on his back.

---

“Darling, we’re going to be late,” Moonjo singsongs from his side of the room, walking out of the bathroom with a towel thrown over his damp hair. Jongwoo groans, still writhing around in bed.

“Time is a social construct, and we’ve got all day,” he mumbles instead of getting up, curling back into the blanket.

Moonjo chuckles and returns into the bathroom, bottles and various skincare products making soft noises in the background of Jongwoo’s half asleep state. It was Sunday, and according to Moonjo’s noise of pleasant surprise looking out the window approximately thirty minutes earlier, it had snowed overnight. The last few days had been colder than usual; grey rainy autumn interluding into white cold winter months.

“Come on, it’s already midday again,” Moonjo coaxed once more, now returning with his hair fluffy from being freshly washed. He looked hideously handsome with the locks falling in place, hair silky when Jongwoo ran his hands through it.

Another groan comes from his own lips, and then he’s yelping in surprise at the feeling of Moonjo’s hands wrapping around him and pulling. Moonjo’s hell-bent on going on a date and who was Jongwoo to stand against it?

Before they left, Moonjo had wrapped him up in a warm, big coat and his own scarf, to make sure Jongwoo wouldn’t wail about being cold halfway through the day. The snow outside crunched under their shoes, and even though it had stopped snowing, there was enough to paint Seoul with a layer of winter-wonderland atmosphere.

Jongwoo shamelessly slipped his hand into Moonjo’s, both gloved to add another shield of protection against the cold, but the grounding grip made it even better. If anybody were to ask, Jongwoo would insist the redness drawn across his nose and cheeks was due to the cold weather.

Moonjo’s face had been painted by a soft blush as well, rosy shade blending in nicely with his pale complexion.

“Where are we going to anyways?”, Jongwoo mumbled after a while. They had been walking through the snowy cityscape for barely half an hour, yet Jongwoo was left in the dark about what was actually the goal of their little walk.

Moonjo squeezed his hand tighter, moving it inside his coat pocket.

“Let me surprise you, alright, darling?”, he responded, keeping his secrets. Jongwoo grumbled to himself but fondly relaxed into the older boy’s side.

The longer they walked the more he had to train his face to avoid angrily snapping at the amount of people passing them and gazing at Moonjo with attraction and interest. It was an awful amount of people. Didn’t they see Jongwoo’s hand literally holding the other’s?

Atrocious, oogling his boyfriend in bright daylight like that. Jongwoo chewed on his lower lips, his eyes staring at the snow on the floor until it hopefully melted away.

He supposed Moonjo was a whole lot prettier than him, extraordinarily so. Back in Busan, Jongwoo had gotten numerous compliments on his own looks, but the lack of actual romantic or sexual relations he had in his life made him feel a little insecure about his looks.

‘I can’t even compete with Moonjo’s face. He’s the kind of gorgeous that’ll take your breath away if we’re being serious,’ he found himself thinking, before immediately wanting to kick the train of thought out of his mind.

No, he shouldn’t fucking act like that. Moonjo was his boyfriend, and he was his boyfriend for a reason.

Lost in thought, Jongwoo only came back to reality when Moonjo gently touched his cheek with the hand not occupied with holding his own. A gentle caress of his freezing cheek, Moonjo’s eyes gazing down lovingly, with little stars sparkling amidst his dark eyes.

“We’re here, jagi,” Moonjo spoke, warmth of his breath tickling the slight sliver of exposed skin at his jaw.

Jongwoo nodded in a trance before looking around at the Christmas lights hanging around small wooden stalls, scents of gingerbread, herbs, coffee, hot chocolate and street food clogging his nose. A Christmas market.

“We’re having a date on a Christmas market?”, Jongwoo spoke in confusion, even though his question was obviously answered upon looking at his environment. Aside from the food near synonymous with advent and Christmas time, Jongwoo’s senses picked up the familiar smell of mulled wine and punch, and suddenly his stomach gave a growling sound of approval concerning their date’s location.

Moonjo smiled softly, leaning down to kiss the shell of Jongwoo’s ear and whisper “Of course, isn’t that a couple’s tradition?”

---

After Jongwoo’s hunger had been gratuitously satiated with two mugs of hot chocolate (Moonjo hadn’t opted to buy one for himself, but helped himself to sip from Jongwoo’s mug), and several servings of Bungeoppang, roasted chestnuts and steamed buns (again, Moonjo simply nibbled off the street food Jongwoo was holding), Moonjo had eagerly pulled him towards the ice skating rink.

“Do you even know how to skate?”, Jongwoo asked as Moonjo procured them each a pair of ice skates. Somehow, the thought of Moonjo’s lanky tall body moving around on the ice felt bizarre, and in Jongwoo’s mind the other would bobble and sway like a newborn deer.

Moonjo shook his head.

“Not really, but it can’t be that hard, I suppose,” he responded, making Jongwoo gleam with a foreboding sense of what may happen.

“Do you?”

Jongwoo nodded. “I went skating with my brother a lot. He loves it.”

Needless to say, Moonjo was dead wrong. Ice skating was actually that hard, and between Moonjo nearly falling on his ass in the first few minutes of walking onto the ice and him clinging onto Jongwoo who patiently thought him how he should move his feet, Jongwoo was concentrating deeply on not erupting into heart-felt laughter.

Moonjo was a little bit of a newborn deer on the ice, and it was quite adorable.

He held on tight, and after a while, Moonjo managed to skate approximately three meters without his boyfriend’s support.

“I’ve finally figured out your weakness, Mr. Perfect. Ice skating is what’ll lead you to your demise, huh?” Jongwoo joked upon helping Moonjo up again. The fourth meter had resulted in him toppling over his own feet and catching his fall with his hands. Moonjo still whimpered at the impact, and Jongwoo had rushed to his aid as fast as possible.

“Anyway, you’ve had enough ice for now,” he continued, interlocking their arms at the elbow as he lead the pair back towards the rink’s exit. “We’re gonna get you off the ice, and slowly put an end to this date, lest you turn into Jack Frost before my eyes.”

Moonjo grumbled, though the annoyance in the sound did not reach his facial expression. The seemingly ever-present grin was already back on his lips, slight tinge of mischief and unusual shyness to it “Did you have fun, jagi?”, he asked with a low voice.

Jongwoo looked at him, brows arched. “Of course, how could I not? You planned a wonderful date, hyung,” he responded. And Moonjo smiled even wider, both of them sighing in contentment.

After another long while of walking around the market, hands not interlaced, but shoulders and hips still nearly adjoined with how close they were, Moonjo quirked up suddenly and proceeded to lead the pair towards an arts and crafts stall.

Before them was an array of hand-crafted hair pins, necklaces and bracelets, and for a brief moment Jongwoo’s heart skipped a beat at the implication. Moonjo’s eyes observed the jewelry as if he were a connoisseur, interest sparkling bright white in his pupils.

Jongwoo stood behind him, hands in his own coat pockets to evade the cold. He was sort of freezing, but the warm food and Moonjo’s gentle expression of content at their date were enough to keep him delighted. It was nice, running around like couples usually did.

If homosexuality wasn’t so stigmatized still, Jongwoo would cradle Moonjo’s head in his hands and pull him downwards for a kiss underneath the Christmas lights.

But then Moonjo pulled out his wallet again, and before Jongwoo could protest or inquire or do anything really, his boyfriend turned around with the biggest, whitest, and softest smile plastered onto his lips, eyes shaped like crescent moons with joy.

In his hand lay a set of bracelets, white freshwater pearls that almost resembled a set of teeth held together with gold thread and a golden clasp. Jongwoo couldn’t hide the soft blush that spread ferociously over his entire face, especially not when Moonjo lead him towards the back of the stall, away from the bustling crowds. With a tender hand, his boyfriend reached for Jongwoo’s wrist, before placing the bracelet around it, closing the clasp but not yet letting go.

It was cold but the tooth-like pearls looked elegant around his wrist.

“Jagiya, would you do me the honor?”, Moonjo joked, giving him the other bracelet and holding out his right hand as well.

Jongwoo nearly choked on his spit, but with a hasty nod he repeated the action, pushing Moonjo’s coat upwards to give way to his pale arm. Then they stood in front of each other, for a moment Jongwoo even thought Moonjo would lean down and kiss him right then right there, judgmental glances unimportant in the face of his beloved.

But he didn’t.

With a low whisper, barely audible, he uttered three short words.

“I love you.”

Jongwoo’s breath hitched. Time seemingly came to a stop. He did, love Moonjo? Maybe, perhaps. But he couldn’t say it yet, not when Moonjo uttered the declaration of love with such devotion and adoration in his eyes.

Moonjo looked like he was going to cry of emotion any second – Moonjo, whose face usually proved to be a blank slate. Jongwoo might be a coward.

So he nodded, a tear or two building up in the inner corner of his eyes, and he pulled Moonjo further down the alleyway before dragging his head down for a longing kiss.

He loved him, but not with the amount of love that even a sole look of Moonjo held. Not yet anyways.

His hand held on tighter onto Moonjo’s coat, wanting to disappear in the warm embrace and Jongwoo slipped his tongue past the older boy’s lips.

Chapter Text

The days following their date, the weather grew colder and colder, but Jongwoo felt a steady warmth from within. He awoke lying in between Moonjo’s bedsheets, the familiar scent in his nostrils and a pleasant sleepiness still lingering in him. Warmth, comfort. Words he wouldn’t have described Moonjo with at first, but now seemed so intrinsically linked to the taller boy. He stretched; willing the sleepy haze to leave his body, twisting and turning his limbs.

Moonjo had already gotten up, only a soft dent in the mattress signaling that he had spent the night next to Jongwoo. He sighed and closing his eyes for another moment, pressing one side of his face into the pillow. Jongwoo could vaguely make out the sound of their shower being turned on. The soft pitter-patter of water and the smell of Moonjo’s shampoo permeating the air nearly lulled Jongwoo back to sleep.

Jongwoo reached out with one hand to fumble for his phone that had been discarded on the bedside table, squinting at the glaring light it emitted. The clock bore 7:10 am. Jongwoo yawned and put his phone away again.

He supposed he should get ready as well, and not lounge his day away in Moonjo’s bed.

With a haphazard ‘thump’, Jongwoo rolled out of bed and closed the distance between the bed and his closet. The shower was still running, and he could swear he heard Moonjo humming something.

‘Probably classical music,’ he grimaced fondly, pulling out a light brown sweater. He set his clothes onto the chair before his desk and called out to the person currently occupying their bathroom. Boyfriends be damned, he still respected the other’s privacy.

“Moonjo-ya, how long will you take?” he asked, strolling up to the bathroom door, rapping his fist against the wood for good measure.

A brief moment of silence.

Jongwoo tapped his foot impatiently. Then, from the other side of the door, came a soft ‘I’m coming’.

The door opened in quick succession, and amidst the surge of steam and scent of shampoo stood Moonjo’s tall frame, wet hair curling gently against his forehead. Jongwoo had to crane his neck ever so slightly, to tear his eyes away from the bare upper body directly in front of him, and instead gaze into Moonjo’s face.

He was smiling gently, ivory teeth on display.

“Bathroom’s all yours, dear,” Moonjo muttered, running a – thankfully dry – hand up Jongwoo’s neck and jaw. It rested against his cheek for a moment, and Jongwoo found himself leaning into the touch as they held eye-contact.

As they broke apart, Jongwoo turned on his heel to take the pile of clothes into the bathroom with him. But not before Moonjo faced him to talk once more.

“Oh, before I forget,” Moonjo was buttoning a crème-colored shirt, “My internship at the hospital starts today, so I’ll come home pretty late. Don’t wait up, alright, jagi?”

He winked down at Jongwoo, who could only stare back with a perplexed expression. “Internship?” he mused, tasting the word on his tongue. Had Moonjo even brought it up before?

“Since when do you have an internship?”, he asked more clearly.

Moonjo shrugged his shoulders softly, closing the final button on the shirt and straightening it down.

“I think I might have forgotten to talk to you about it, but it’s part of being a med student. Although, I wasn’t sure if I had gotten in as the email of acceptance arrived pretty late,” the other explained, although it didn’t lift Jongwoo’s confusion very much. “Sorry, I’ll inform you right away the next time.” Moonjo added, now sounding a tad bit remorseful. The smile on his face was replaced by a demure frown, eyebrows knit together.

“Did I make you upset?” he whispered at Jongwoo, who had not yet answered apart from his expression.

At the sound, Jongwoo’s mind fired off a distress signal. Both of his hands clasped Moonjo’s arms, pulling him into a half-hearted embrace as his clothes piled up onto the floor between their feet.

“No, of course not! It’s fine, alright?” he rubbed his hands up and down, smiling at Moonjo. Then, given the pout Moonjo’s lips had formed, Jongwoo felt it necessary to place a peck onto his lips. Even if he had to stand on his toes to do so. Stupidly tall Moonjo.

“I wish you all the best, hopefully you’ll have a nice time. I won’t wait for you, but you can just wake me up once you come home, I’ll want to cuddle regardless” Another peck, completed with Jongwoo’s hands moving upwards to cradle Moonjo’s face.

At the bubbling affection, Moonjo’s sour expression soon morphed back into his signature smile, and he leaned down to embrace Jongwoo properly as well. “Sweet as always, jagi.”

---

Needless to say, Jongwoo was not accustomed to the concept of a stressed and more-than-usual sleep-deprived Moonjo. The internship and his overall workload to top it off were wearing Moonjo down, especially considering the perfectionist Jongwoo knew him to be.

The first day, Jongwoo had settled down in his bed with a novel he had procured from Moonjo’s own reading stack, being perfectly content with staying up past his usual bed-time, despite what Moonjo had asked him to do. The warm glow of the lamp on his bed-side table illuminated the room enough for him to lead sans straining his eyes, but it made it unbearably hard to not fall asleep.

He might have a little. Rested his eyes that is. Or perhaps actually fallen asleep, book tumbling from his hands in the midst of it.

Shortly before 1 am, the door unlocked, and Moonjo stumbled through it with a tired gait. Jongwoo stirred, waking up with a soft groan he muffled into his bed sheets. From the corner of his eyes, he could vaguely make out his boyfriend’s shape.

Moonjo’s glasses rested atop his nose bridge; hair tussled so much that it constricted the view of his face. Jongwoo blinked, his eyes still quite glassy and weary from sleep. Moonjo’s complexion looked pale and worn out in the dim light of his lamp.

As he moved to sit up in his bed, Moonjo’s eyes flickered towards his silhouette.

“Why are you still up?” he asks monotonously, after closing the door behind him. Moonjo runs a hand through his disheveled hair and sets the glasses down on his desk. Without really looking at the other boy, he moved into the bathroom to wash his face, or rather splash a handful of water onto it. Jongwoo didn’t miss the sway to Moonjo’s walk as he returned.

Jongwoo mumbles something akin to ‘well, obviously’. The book had fallen onto the floor, he noticed.

“How was it?” he asked his boyfriend, yawning halfway through the question. Moonjo peeled his coat off, and soon followed it with the rest of his clothes.

“As exhausting as I thought it would be. My classes were fine, but we didn’t have a proper break during the internship,” he explained, now putting on a pair of pajamas. “And I’m afraid I hadn’t had the time to eat properly.”

His voice seemingly grew quieter at the end of his confession, but Jongwoo delighted in Moonjo’s vulnerable words. He made space in his bed, pressing himself against the wall. “You’re probably tired then, come here,” he mumbled, arms stretched out as if to draw Moonjo forward. “And let’s get breakfast together tomorrow morning.”

He knew how particular Moonjo was about his daily routines.

The other turned around again, clad in his sleeping clothes, and seemingly rushed to accept the invitation into Jongwoo’s bed. As he leapt onto the mattress, Moonjo turned off the bedside lamp, casting the pair of them in darkness. The younger winced a little at Moonjo’s cold body, but quickly moved to throw an arm around Moonjo’s waist and draw him closer. He burrowed his head under Moonjo’s own and was out in a heartbeat.

“Goodnight, jagi,” the elder mumbled softly into the crown of Jongwoo’s head. He too fell victim to slumber not soon after.

---

“You’ve got some marmalade on your upper lip,” Jongwoo remarked as they sat together over breakfast. He had convinced Moonjo about the meal’s importance, and how it was quite near and dear to his heart to at least spend an hour with his boyfriend in the morning. They had chosen a quiet café 10 minutes by bus and were huddled around a table in the corner.

Jongwoo had ordered them both Western breakfast and was currently preoccupied with stifling a laugh at the thin smear of red marmalade on top of Moonjo’s lip.

The other grimaced, lips caught somewhere in between a smile and a frown, before trying to lick off the sticky sweetness with his tongue. Needless to say, it did not work. And Jongwoo snorted at the picture in front of him.

“No, no, you’re missing it completely,” he giggled.

Moonjo stopped his endeavor and looked him dead in the eyes. Jongwoo returned the stare. Then, the older boy raised an eyebrow and shamelessly leaned forward, nearly soiling his off-white dress shirt as he hovered dangerously close over his cup of coffee.

“You wipe it off then, darling,” Moonjo mused, his lips quirking up into an endearing grin, mostly in response to the red hue gracing Jongwoo’s face. Jongwoo shook his head, leaning backwards instead.

“We’re in public if you didn’t gather that. I’m not going to lovingly wipe marmalade off your lip,” he responded. And then, enjoying the pleading look Moonjo gave him, perhaps a little too much. “At that point I might as well just kiss your lips, huh?”

But Moonjo didn’t falter in his expression. If anything, his face seemed to light up even more. “Hmm, considering I’ll have to spend my day slaving away at the hospital and the library,” he trailed off, looking around the café.

In fact, it was mostly empty. The barista behind the counter was humming along to whatever the radio was playing, cleaning the coffee machine as he did so. The other customers were deeply preoccupied with their own breakfasts, laptops or phones – and just as they had intended, Moonjo and Jongwoo were blissfully ignored.

When Moonjo’s gaze returned to Jongwoo, he paused. Eyes looking downwards at his lips, he wasted no time in surging forward and pressing a chaste kiss to them. Jongwoo grew flustered, eyes widening as he prepared himself to chastise the older boy for the public display of affection. Then he noticed the sticky feeling of his lips and wanted to strangle the other boy grinning at him from the other side of the table.

“What a fucking child,” he instead muttered, giving him a stern glare and wiping a full palm over his mouth. The red evidence spread over his skin like a bruise. Moonjo looked fucking pleased with himself and finished the rest of his croissant.

---

A couple of days later, Jongwoo worked a long shift at the Dalbit Coffee & Cake. Not with Byeongmin, thankfully, else he would have probably lost his mind halfway through. Yoojeong took up most of the work in the kitchen, along with another girl who he hadn’t really exchanged many words with until now, while Jongwoo was left to take care of the customers.

“Hello, welcome to Dalbit Coffee & Cake, what can I do for you?”, he spoke with a cursory sweet voice. Despite having only had a single class on Baroque Literature, Jongwoo was already exhausted when he arrived at the café.

‘You gotta earn money, think of the money, Jongwoo,’ he assured himself. But as it were, the day passed without many complications.

An elderly couple had spent more than 10 minutes ordering their drinks, changing and adapting the order at least 5 times, all the while Jongwoo smiled and nodded encouragingly at them.

Nearing closing hour, Yoojeong had helped him clean while recounting an array of anecdotes about the café, and as the other girl joined them, Jongwoo found himself enjoying the gossip and stories they exchanged. Even if he knew next to nothing about the people they talked about, as they seemingly were fellow students, mutual friends or previous customers.

“Ah, that reminds me, I hooked up halfway with this guy the other weekend at a party,” Yoojeong began, eliciting a giggle from the other girl. “TMI, eonnie, TMI!”, she laughed, but made not further move to stop Yoojeong from continuing.

Jongwoo chuckled, but found he didn’t mind it either, wiping down the countertop.

“He was like, the epitome of those Chaebeol sons in dramas. Rich, arrogant, but handsome nonetheless,” she explained. “Not my usual type, but I was stressed with work, and he seemed pretty charismatic at first.”

“So you hooked up with him?” the other girl inquired. Jongwoo would have to ask her about her name before it got too embarrassing to not know about it at least.

Yoojeong nodded, a smile on her lips. “I was already like, might as well, you know? But halfway through it his phone started beeping. And you won’t believe why,” she bit her lips in excitement. And Jongwoo was quite invested in the spiel at this point.

“What, was he already in a relationship?” he laughed.

And to his surprise, Yoojeong nodded profusely, barking out a laughter that sounded like ‘yes, yes, yes’!

“He had a girlfriend, Jaeun or Jieun or something, and that’s the reason why it was only a halfway hook-up,” both Jongwoo and the other girl were staring in disbelief, although it seemed for entirely different reasons.

Jongwoo’s mind was a series of question marks. Chaebol son, arrogant, rich and a girlfriend named Jaeun or Jieun.

‘Jaeho wouldn’t, would he…?’, he mused to himself, somewhat admitting that yes, Jaeho would, actually.

So, he cleared his throat, stepping closer to the pair.

“Did you get his name by any chance?”

Yoojeong paused, thinking for a moment, her index finger resting against her lips. “I think so. It was Jaeho if I’m not mistaken.”

Jongwoo came close to choking on his own spit at the answer and made sure to add ‘killing Jaeho’ onto his to-do list. The fucker genuinely cheated on Jieun?

“Well, that was a nice way to end today, huh?” the other girl laughed, taking her apron off and announcing that they should head home now. Jongwoo couldn’t agree more.

He was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar face waiting on him by the exit door of the staff room. Still clad in a white coat, glasses perched up on his nose, Moonjo stood outside against one of the walls. There was a nearly burnt-down cigarette between his lips, and he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the cold night. As the door closed behind Yoojeong, all three of them having exited, Moonjo’s attention was brought to Jongwoo.

Moonjo crouched down to put the cigarette out on the asphalt ground before tossing it into the garbage bin. With a demure smile, he sauntered over to Jongwoo, cigarette smell mixing with his usual cologne and the faint scent of medicine.

“Did they let you go earlier today?”, Jongwoo asked as soon as Moonjo came closer. Yoojeong and the other girls halted in their step, looking at the pair with curious eyes. Jongwoo disregarded them, knowing full-well that Moonjo’s appearance was prone to attracting people.

His boyfriend nodded. “Fortunately yes, I wanted to pick you up.”

Jongwoo nodded in response, feeling the coldness seep into his body despite the warm coat and his scarf. He exhaled with a shiver.

Moonjo quirked at the two onlookers behind Jongwoo, and promptly resolved to taking the younger boy’s hand in his own. “You seem cold, jagi.”

Jongwoo jerked back nearly instantly, looking towards his co-workers, hand slipping out of Moonjo’s touch. “I-I – this isn’t-“ The two women seemed intrigued, but Jongwoo found no trace of malice in their expressions. Unlike Jaeho, he mentally added sourly.

The other girl waved her hand toward Jongwoo’s startled figure in nonchalance. “Don’t worry, you secret is safe with us, “ she mused, mimicking the motion of zipping her lips shut.

Jongwoo did nothing more than nodding robotically, still reluctant to return his hand to Moonjo’s, however. He wasn’t particularly keen on exposing their relationship to strangers. But as they entered the bus that would take them back to campus, Jongwoo couldn’t help but relax into Moonjo’s body next to him.

They hadn’t spent much time with each other the past week, both stressed out and lacking the necessary energy.

As soon as Jongwoo’s head hit the pillow, he was out, sleeping soundly. Moonjo’s form felt cold, but his exhaling breath was pleasantly warm against Jongwoo’s skin.

---

Days passed, Moonjo usually came home tired, and when he didn’t Jongwoo was already knocked out on his own bed from work and school. He had also taken to rising much earlier than previously, going to the library before his internship in an effort to study. Jongwoo missed his presence upon waking up in the morning.

He especially did so today; gasping for breath as he broke free from the clutches of a particularly jarring nightmare. Sweat dripped down Jongwoo’s back, uncomfortably damp against his shirt. Cold and hot collided under his skin.

Jongwoo hunched over and tried to catch his breath.

There was nobody in the room to calm the tears prickling in his eyes. Nor the racing speed at which his heart beat out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, recalling the familiar shadows curling around the edge of his peripheral vision, morphing into Jaeho, his odd neighbors, and his mom tantalizing him all the while begging for financial support. Laughter, yelling, the bouts of noise were getting increasingly louder. Jongwoo’s dream self could only press himself to the ground, hands tight against his ears.

But it was all a dream. A nightmare, he reckoned. Fucking pathetic, that he was still shaking, tears slipping past his scrunched up eyelids and running down his face.

Jongwoo hiccupped through the remaining tears.

---

On his way to the library – because he figured the productive environment would be beneficial to him as well – his mother called Jongwoo once again. He found himself sighing unconsciously.

Jongwoo picked up the call.

“Morning, eomma,” he greeted, trying to sound less out of breath. From the other side of the phone, he heard papers rustling and his brother mumbling in the background.

“Jongwoo, how are you, sweetie?” his mother asked.

He didn’t want to answer, not really. Not when the answer was clear as day. “Fine, just a little stressed out,” he lied instead. Jongwoo drew his coat around himself tighter.

“That’s great,” his mother mused, “I wanted to say that we managed to get a loan. From a friend of mine, so your brother’s hospital bills won’t be a problem for a while.”

His mother paused. Jongwoo didn’t know what to say.

She continued.

“I’ll send you some money back, but- uhm, I actually wanted to ask how everything was going for you? Are you bringing somebody home for Christmas?”, she asked.

Jongwoo chewed on his lip for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell the truth. Moonjo hadn’t yet told him if he would really come with, although Jongwoo was sure his boyfriend would be happy to do so.

Thus, he answered that he wasn’t sure yet if they could come join him in Busan. “I’ll ask again today, and tell you for sure later, okay?”

At the implication that her son was going to bring home a special somebody, in her mind, Jongwoo guessed, probably a girlfriend, his mother audibly beamed with happiness.

“Oh Jongwoo, I’m so happy!,” she delighted. “I’m excited to see you again, with or without your girlfriend.”

“Me too, eomma. Have a nice day, I’m going to go into the library now. Bye,” he ended the call, putting his phone back into his pocket and stepping into the grand library hall.

Not really looking in front of him, nor where he was going, Jongwoo bumped into a short woman pushing a book trolley in front of her.

Hastily, he tried to apologize, after having regained his balance again.

“I’m really sorry, are you hurt-“ he began, put abruptly stopped in his attempt of apologizing as he recognized the woman in front of him. He bit back a sneer, looking down at Ms. Eom. She was smiling ear to ear, red lipstick on her lips and pink circles of blush coating her cheeks.

“Ah, handsome young man, we’ve met before!”, she answered cheerfully. Jongwoo wanted to grimace in disdain and moved backwards a step.

Ms. Eom didn’t cease smiling, pushing the trolley aside and trying to start a conversation with Jongwoo.

“How is he doing actually? I have not seen Moonjo in a while. You know, he’s quite busy,” she inquired. Jongwoo felt uneasy, but reluctantly answered her question.

“Moonjo’s doing fine I’d say. He’s very engaged in his studies, but he takes care of himself well enough,” he mumbled, thinking back to the way Moonjo would often come home exhausted and seemingly frailer than the day before. Still, Ms. Eom did not appear like the type of person to truly care for Moonjo.

Then, as if having an epiphany, Ms. Eom’s face lit up and she pulled forwards her purse to draw something out. Jongwoo remained still, watching her take out a set of old-school photos. Question marks formed in his mind, seeing children and teenagers on the pictures.

Or rather, a child and a teenager.

Ms. Eom shoved the pictures in Jongwoo’s vision. “He’s always been very studious and loved learning new things. Wasn’t he a sweet boy?” she coed, having him look at an old picture of Moonjo in his childhood, standing upright and holding two glasses of insects and butterflies trapped in them up.

Jongwoo nodded with a cursory grin. “Oh yes, really sweet.”

‘Why was she telling him all of these things?’ Jongwoo wondered, continuing to entertain Ms. Eom’s tales from Moonjo’s childhood.

“You know, I still feel like it was destiny for me to find the dear boy at my orphanage. I almost feel like his real mom sometimes,” she mused, looking at the pictures in her hand with something akin to nostalgia. Or wishful thinking, Jongwoo observed.

“He definitely inherited some traits from me, if you know what I mean, young man. He’s such a creative soul, don’t you think? You two will be very happy with each other.”

Her words felt like sandpaper rubbing over his skin; Jongwoo cringed at them. Then a sparkle of goosebumps ran down his body – what did she mean by that? Had Moonjo told her about them?

“Well, I’ll have to get going, it was nice talking to you,” he lied, laughing politely as he tried to excuse himself from the conversation. The woman was creeping him out, her beady eyes focused on him, and despite her equally as polite goodbye, she continued looking at him across the library for the rest of his stay.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Jongwoo gulped, catching the black head of hair and floral dress she was wearing standing in the distance.

He had contemplated texting Moonjo as he packed up his stuff. Even calling him. Jongwoo felt watched even as he exited the library after having worked on his assignments. The hairs at the back of his nape stood up straight upon walking out of the building.

Chapter Text

Jongwoo contemplated returning the favor; of Moonjo having picked him up from work. The sun was barely setting, painting the sky demure shades. The buildings drew mellow shadows onto the ground, and Jongwoo found himself walking through steadily darkening alleyways. He hadn’t taken the bus, considering how he was already in the area. Junghwa and her ever-expanding quest of trying out coffee shops. And who was he to say no to her?

In Jongwoo’s ears, his headphones were blasting music. Some song Moonjo had sent him the previous day, in the middle of his internship because he thought Jongwoo might enjoy it. The thought had the younger man melting a little. He did in fact enjoy the song.

The music seemed to carry him through the rose-tinted street, shadows enveloping near everything.

After a while, Jongwoo sees the white façade of the hospital poking out in-between the other buildings. Rows upon rows of windows that seem almost purple in the red light. Jongwoo fishes for his phone, not exactly knowing where he should wait on Moonjo.

Jongwoo, 8:05 pm

Hi, I’m at your hospital! Where should I wait to pick you up?

He hits ‘send’, before crossing the street and coming to a stop in front of the hospital’s entrance. He shifts from foot to foot, feeling a little awkward with the amount of people streaming in and out of the hospital’s doors.

Jongwoo relented, ‘They definitely have other things to worry about, they’re not looking at you’, and turned the music in his ears up louder.

Moonjo, 8:06 pm

Jagi, you didn’t have to! But I’ll come out through the main entrance in a little, can you wait there?

Jongwoo, 8:06 pm

Will do, and I did it because I wanted to see you :)

The upturned smiley face feels only a little out of place, but rounds of his text adequately enough, Jongwoo supposes. By the entrance, there’s still a vast amount of people exiting and entering, and only after a while does Jongwoo spot the familiar head of black hair, figure poised in his white clothes.

Jongwoo has half a mind to rush up to his boyfriend and sling both arms across his neck, much less kiss him on the lips. Instead he finds Moonjo’s eyes and is delighted to glimpse the giddy sparkle that resides in them. With a skip in his step, Jongwoo catches up to Moonjo, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Moonjo’s own had been pulled up into a welcoming smile as well, though rather demure in comparison with his usual crazed grins. He looks soft, Jongwoo notes. Despite the smell of hospital and medicine.

“What’s up with the frown?” Moonjo asks with an amused tone.

Jongwoo laughs a little, short and sweet. “You smell too much like the hospital and too little like yourself,” he answers, tugging at Moonjo’s right arm to motion him towards the sidewalk. He took the lead in walking to the nearest bus stop, arms leisurely intertwined at the elbow.

At Jongwoo’s response, Moonjo hums in thought. He presses closer to Jongwoo, making walking in a straight line more difficult, with the way his hips tried to glue themselves to Jongwoo’s own.

“We can’t have that, huh?”

Jongwoo shakes his head. “I refuse to let you smell like that longer than necessary,” he grumbles with a lighthearted tone. It gets even darker and colder as they approach the bus stop, the sky having been reduced to a vague shade of dark blue.

“Let’s shower together then,” Moonjo offers in response, way too nonchalant for the nature of his idea.

Jongwoo, like a normal person, grows a little flustered, although the redness across his nose bridge and cheeks is hidden by the oncoming night. Not that the proposition sounded intriguing or attractive.

“Mhh, yeah sure,” he tries to keep his voice steady. Keep the excitement out of his words. By the way Moonjo grins amusedly as he pays for their bus fares, and ushers Jongwoo to a pair of seats at the back of the vehicle, he isn’t doing a terribly great job at it.

---

In the end, Moonjo had hauled a stool into their already cramped shower, because Jongwoo insisted on washing his hair for him. The gesture was sweet, and intoxicating. For both of them. They had let the cold water run down their bodies at first, soothe any aches and cleanse them, as Moonjo and Jongwoo stood face to face. Moonjo’s curls fell flat to his face, but he looked no less like he usually did with that charming expression. Jongwoo reached a hand up to thread it through his wet hair, then cradle Moonjo’s cheek.

Water still engulfed them both, but it seemed like the world could wait.

“You’re gorgeous,” Moonjo whispered into the silence, and mirrored Jongwoo’s cradling of his face. Moonjo pressed a chaste kiss to Jongwoo’s forehead, before resting his own on top of Jongwoo’s. Breathe in. Breathe out. Jongwoo found that he could get lost in Moonjo’s dark pupils.

Sparkles reflected the brash bathroom light, and Moonjo’s lashes looked oddly delicate around his eyelids.

“Can I wash your hair?” was the question that resounded soon after. And Moonjo nearly jumped at the chance. Jongwoo kissed him briefly as well, pressing their lips together, moving them in unison. The water was still raining down on them, thus before anybody could get prune fingers, Jongwoo turned it off. And another kiss, to Moonjo’s cupid’s bow.

 “You have to get a stool to sit on, though, because you’re a giant and I can’t reach your hair otherwise,” he added, mumbled into Moonjo’s half-open mouth.

So, Moonjo had dragged in a stool, and sat down obediently on that very piece of furniture. Now Jongwoo had all the range of motion and sight to carefully massage shampoo into Moonjo’s damp hair, as well as – if not more importantly - thread his fingers through the strands languidly.

Moonjo sank into the touch, slumping down a little bit. Jongwoo grinned at his antic and moved one hand down to smooth out his back, have him sit up properly instead of slouched. “Back straight,” he reprimanded, but let his fingers press softly against the spot behind Moonjo’s ears.

Again, a soft gasp, a moan and another attempt at sinking into himself.

‘He’s leaning into it like a cat,’ Jongwoo muses to himself. He scratches again, much softer this time, and elicits a similar reaction. He swears he can see goosebumps littering Moonjo’s torso.

“That’s quite counterproductive, jagi. I’m going to melt into a puddle on the floor,” he confesses, eyes closed in bliss. Jongwoo knows he doesn’t care about what happens, as long as he doesn’t cease massaging his head.

The shampoo suds are nearly engulfing all of Moonjo’s hair, though Jongwoo continues scratching Moonjo’s scalp and softly running his digits through the locks. Moonjo nearly purrs once, and Jongwoo is sure to lock away the sound forever.

After a while, Jongwoo softly pads Moonjo’s shoulders and rinses out the shampoo with pleasantly warm water. It leaves the hair clinging on Moonjo’s skin, curling up ever so slightly. Jongwoo sees the beauty marks littering Moonjo’s nape and neck and has to hold himself back from squealing.

“There, there, just a little bit of conditioner,” Jongwoo announces as he opens the last bottle on their shower shelf, squeezing a dollop of the white conditioner onto his hands and commencing one last round through Moonjo’s hair, lathering it up in a scent of eucalyptus and lavender. A much kinder herbal alternative to Moonjo’s hospital smell.

They towel themselves dry without too many mishaps in between. Although Moonjo is seemingly sparkling with the urge to touch, see, feel and smell, sparkling enough like a star about to explode.

Jongwoo doesn’t hesitate to offer his bed up for a much-deserved cuddling session, and he falls down onto Moonjo’s broad chest with a rather graceful ‘umph’. Moonjo makes a content noise, and tangles his limbs with Jongwoo’s, the younger boy’s right leg sprawled between Moonjo’s legs.

Lying over his chest, there are many delicate scars in Jongwoo’s direct field of vision. He hesitates for a moment, feeling Moonjo’s breath calm down as one hand comes up to rub at Jongwoo’s back. Soothing circles, up and down his spine. It has Jongwoo nearly arching into Moonjo’s body, but instead he lets his finger ghost over a particular scar running over Moonjo’s peck and ribs.

“Can I touch them?” he whispers, as if it’s something forbidden.

Then, with a gulp, he adds: “Are you- would you be able to tell me about them?”

The hand on Jongwoo’s back stills briefly. Moonjo exhales and inhales, his chest falling and rising ever so slightly. Instead of rubbing circles into his skin, the hand now moves upwards to rest against his shoulder blades.

“Yes, please,” comes as Moonjo’s breathless answer.

Jongwoo’s finger ceases its hovering, and presses gently onto the scar, gently tracing it from its beginning. Moonjo sighs, and shivers slightly as Jongwoo cranes his neck to press a soft kiss onto the mark.  

“They’re mostly from my childhood,” Moonjo speaks up after a while, Jongwoo having continued on to the scars on the older boy’s unoccupied hand. One runs down vertically, and Jongwoo is especially careful in his tracing.

“My mother, birthmother, was not a good person. Neither was my father,” he exhales shakily, “And the orphanage was not really much better. The ones from then were mainly due to punishments, some self-inflicted.”

Jongwoo doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t. Not yet. Not when he can simply hold and cherish Moonjo’s body wholly with all of his scars. It’s hurtful, but Jongwoo knows that the hurting was inevitable, and he’s grateful for the vulnerability.

“They don’t hurt. I barely even register them most of the times, “ Moonjo’s voice breaks off into a breathy, airless whisper. It’s small and fragile, and Jongwoo hugs around him tighter.

“I’m glad you told me,” Jongwoo answers. “And I need you to know that you can always talk to me if you ever feel inadequate, or if it ever becomes too much.”

Vulnerability. Wasn’t that important in relationships?

Moonjo sniffled out a soft ‘yes’ and buried his own nose in Jongwoo’s hair. The hug was uncomfortable, both craning their necks and bending over in odd postures, but it was warm. Jongwoo reached upwards, dragging himself further up and adjusting himself. With his own head right in Moonjo’s fleshly washed hair that smelled of eucalyptus and lavender, barely a paper-width between their faces, warmth travelling from Moonjo to Jongwoo, he’s relaxed. And Jongwoo hopes Moonjo is too.

---

Junghwa had vehemently insisted that it would be fun. Another party, to get his mind off things, to enjoy the evening with his friends, to take the pressure off her to interact with people she didn’t know.

But she had also claimed that Jaeho was probably too busy to attend it.

As Jongwoo was walking towards one of the library tables, Junghwa had sneakily interlinked their elbows and dragged him along.

“Jongwoo! You’re free tomorrow evening, right?” she had begun, tone much too chipper and sweet; the sour catch to her proposition following soon. Jongwoo had shrugged.

“I think so, why?” he had let her hang onto his arm, until the pair sat down at a table, Jongwoo having spread his laptop and books over the surface.

Junghwa had opted to sit opposite of him, pulling out a set of textbooks as well as her laptop from her bag. “A classmate of mine invited me to a party and told me I could bring some people as well,” she had explained, still with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Although Jongwoo had been  waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But?” he had prompted, logging into his laptop, opening the dreaded assignment he was supposed to work on.

Junghwa had grimaced, glancing slightly to the side of Jongwoo’s eyes.

“I don’t really know any of these people, so I was thinking maybe you and Jieun could come. Maybe invite Moonjo and Seokyoon as well?” she had confessed. “You know, I’m not much more of an extrovert than you are.”

Jongwoo had chuckled at that, and reluctantly gave in. “I’ll ask Moonjo and Seokyoon, but no promises,” he had responded to which Junghwa had beamed happily.

Thus, Jongwoo found himself standing in the entrance of an unknown apartment, Moonjo to his left, Junghwa and Jieun to his right. Seokyoon, the actual extrovert of his would-be friend group had kindly declined, as he already had plans on top of being much too swamped with schoolwork.

Unfortunately, Jaeho was also very much present.

Jongwoo gritted his teeth upon seeing his arrogant face, cursory smile on his lips as he pulled Jieun into a hug. She looked uncomfortable; Jongwoo recalled Yoojeong’s confession a couple of days prior.

“Jieun-ah, great to see you here too! Junghwa, did you invite them?” Jaeho spoke loudly, nearly screaming over the booming music blasting through the apartment. “Hah, wow, this is so cool, all of us together, huh? Like old times!”

‘Is he really cheating on Jieun?’ Jongwoo frowned a little. He didn’t hate Jieun per se, in fact, the two of them had sort of reconciled. But Jaeho still didn’t fail in making his blood boil, and he didn’t deserve Jieun, especially not if he truly did cheat on her.

Her expression was uncomfortable, tethering on uneasy, as she lifted herself from Jaeho’s tight embrace. Behind Jongwoo, Moonjo moved a calming hand to rest on his shoulder, mumbling something akin to ‘calm down, dear’ into his ear.

Jongwoo’s own body language relaxed, if only a little bit. He looked up into Moonjo’s direction, demure sign of gratitude for coming along. Soon after, the group sprawled out into the apartment, yet Moonjo stuck with Jongwoo as they made their way to get drinks.

“So, what do we do now?” Moonjo asked, red cup in his hands, leaning his lanky frame against the counter. Jongwoo assumed a similar position next to him, downing most of the cup’s continents in one go. He needed it, or rather his future self would.

Jongwoo shrugged halfheartedly. “Don’t know. What do you want to do? Not much of a party person, huh?”

Moonjo shook his head, taking a tentative sip. The alcohol was a tad bitter.

“Do I look like a party person to you? Jagi, really,” he pouted theatrically, “But I have to disappoint you, I have no idea what to do. Drinking alcohol and standing right here for the remainder of the night won’t suffice, I fear.”

The younger boy hummed in response. It wouldn’t, no. But frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to do much beyond drinking, staring into the void and perhaps leaning against Moonjo’s frame in search of comfort.

“I suppose most party activities do include alcohol,” he muses.

Moonjo chuckled softly, grabbing at Jongwoo’s hips to turn him around. They were facing each other now, the deafening music and glaring lights fading into the background, nothing more than white noise to Jongwoo’s mind. The pale skin of Moonjo’s face grew luminescent in the shine of led lights, blues and reds contrasting along the sides of his nose bridge.

Without really thinking about it, Jongwoo downed the rest of his cup. The edges of his vision became fuzzy; Moonjo clear as day in the middle of it. Inviting lips slightly opened, Jongwoo felt caught between a rock and a hard place.

Jongwoo couldn’t help but cradle his face in his hands, drawing a thumb over Moonjo’s lips, wet with alcohol. “Or dancing. Or hook ups,” he continues the train of thought. They’re close enough that Jongwoo can barely see anything else apart from his boyfriend.

“The latter I can help with,” Moonjo whispered, hints of amusement and drunkenness accompanying the words. Jongwoo laughed and took his hands into his own, letting them move down his sides. “We’re very much in public, Moonjo-ssi,” Jongwoo huffed, though his tongue lacked malice. The honorific rolled off his tongue with glee; he had never addressed Moonjo as anything but Moonjo-ya or hyung.

“Mhh, as if you didn’t just dip a finger in my mouth. Isn’t that a bit hypocritical, babe?” Moonjo’s hands returned to their original position, softly nudging against Jongwoo’s waist. He looks down at the younger boy through his eyelashes, before taking another sip of alcohol, tilting his head to the side. His jawline looks just as much as enticing as his lips, but Jongwoo doesn’t budge. More out of discipline rather than his own volition. If left to his own devices, he’d latch onto Moonjo’s neck and pepper it with open-mouthed kisses – consensually of course.

Jongwoo lockes gazes with Moonjo, and the next minute, he registers Junghwa calling for him. His surroundings, loud music, harsh lighting bleed back into his consciousness.

“Jongwoo, Moonjo! Do you guys want to join playing truth or dare?” Junghwa came up to them, raising her voice to ask over the noise. Jongwoo and Moonjo were still more or less plastered together, an arm slung half-heartedly around Jongwoo’s waist.

Jongwoo, having looked at Junghwa over his shoulder, returned his gaze at Moonjo again, in an inquisitory manner. ‘Do you want to play?’ he asks with a glance.

Moonjo shrugs, letting go of Jongwoo’s waist, much to the younger man’s detriment. Jongwoo bit back the thought of wanting to linger in the older boy’s embrace and turns around towards Junghwa to accept her invitation.

“Hah, I knew you’d be game,” she beams, and Jongwoo leads Moonjo after her, their hands intertwined.

“Is Jaeho gonna play to?” Jongwoo asked with a hint of unnerve.

Junghwa turned her head briefly, lips down-turned in a similar vein. “Unfortunately yes. I’ve really grown to hate him over the past weeks.”

Moonjo grins next to Jongwoo, especially as Junghwa shoves herself between the pair to whisper something into Jongwoo’s ear. She mumbles a quick ‘sorry’ in his direction, but Moonjo can still ascertain the words ‘Jaeho’, ‘Jieun’ and ‘cheating’.

“You know, I’ve been worried for her. Jieun hasn’t been looking very well lately, and I’m betting it’s because of Jaeho,” Junghwa whispered, pausing to collect her thoughts. Then, a much more tentative “I think he’s cheating on her. And, you know how Jaeho can get with his verbal abuse.”

As she pulls back, Jongwoo’s expression morphs into a saddened frown. ‘I guess my suspicions were confirmed after all,’ he chewed on his lower lip. Moonjo had excluded himself from the conversation, as even though he knew very well that Jaeho was an asshole and an abusive person who shouldn’t be around Jongwoo anymore, he had little to no knowledge of Jieun, or her relationship with Jaeho.

Although neither Junghwa nor Jongwoo looked quite pleased. Junghwa’s expression continued to stay sour, brows furrowed softly, one finger pressed against her lip.

“I think you should talk to her afterwards,” Jongwoo proposed, still a vaguely hushed whisper. Junghwa gave a demure nod. “I suppose I should.”

---

“Junghwa, truth or dare!” Jaeho lulled through a faint haze of drunkenness. Jongwoo nudged further into Moonjo sitting beside him.

Jaeho had glanced at him as Junghwa lead the two of them through the doorway, aggression and disdain contorting his features into something ugly. Sans hesitation, Jaeho had plopped down next to Jieun and taken her hand in his, in spite of Jieun’s uncomfortable smile that followed it.

“Dare,” Junghwa answered, adjusting her position against the couch. The floor was surprisingly comfortable, Jongwoo found.

Jaeho on the other side of their little circle seemed to think about his dare a little, eyes flitting around the room.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, smacking his lips. “I dare you to kiss-“ Eyes locked onto Jongwoo with a conceited grin spreading on his face, “- Jongwoo over here.”

And then, although Jongwoo might have imagined it, Jaeho’s self-satisfied expression wandered to pierce Moonjo, heightening a little. Moonjo’s hand tightened into a fist, Jongwoo could feel his knuckles pressing against his thigh.

Before anything could escalate into more of a childish fight, Junghwa chuckled. “Isn’t that a little bit immature? I think we’re past daring each other to kiss one another, we’re not playing Seven Minutes in Heaven,” she added with a light-hearted tone.

Jaeho responded with a scoff. “Oh, are you scared of kissing Jongwoo?” His voice dropped to new lows, dripping with venomous arrogance. Now several of the people participating exchanged warry glances, slightly amused by Jaeho’s antics.

‘No, but she knows it’s impolite to kiss somebody who’s in a relationship, you prick,’ Jongwoo internally grimaces.

The tension heightens, people either looking at Jaeho’s increasingly erratic mood as well as the uncomfortable silence from Junghwa and Jongwoo. Moonjo crowds further into his back, welcome source of comfort to Jongwoo.  

In the end, Junghwa merely sighs, turning towards Jongwoo with an apologetic expression. “Fine,” she rolls her eyes, shuffling in his direction on her knees. Jongwoo feels a sly blush creeping up his neck, now definitely caught between a rock and a hard place, as Junghwa puts a gentle hand to his chin.

Jongwoo’s a little transfixed, staring Junghwa straight in the eye, who’s a little amused by his expression. She turns his head to the side, dips in, and presses a chaste and brief kiss to his cheek.

“Et voilà!” she exclaims, returning to her original position.

Jaeho seethed, face contorted with red hot anger, however he may be angered by the situation. Immature, as Junghwa said, that’s what he was.

“Ya! I dared you to kiss him, Junghwa. What was that?”, he sneered, voice growing louder. Jieun at his side tried to shush him, calm his increasing temper tantrum down. Jongwoo had to admit, it was quite a show.

Then, Jaeho’s head snapped over to regard Jongwoo. “Just because he has a boyfriend,” he bit out, last word tinted with an additional layer of viciousness.

Jongwoo took a deep breath in, balling his own hands into fists, fingernails digging into the palm of his flesh. He wanted to punch Jaeho so bad, and the alcohol was certainly not the cause of it. Breathe in, breathe out. Jongwoo shouldn’t resort to violence again. His own reasoning didn’t stop his blood from boiling over, however.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Moonjo’s lips curling into his usual smirks, focusing his own devilish gaze onto Jaeho who visibly receded into himself.

“Well, you wouldn’t know about respecting a relationship’s boundaries, would you?”, Moonjo smiled. As opposed to Jongwoo’s seething anger barely kept from spilling forth, his boyfriend remained calm on the outside, having Jaeho shiver with fear and assent without even raising his voice beyond the usual.

“What the fuck are you even saying?”, Jaeho rose to his feet, stumbling a little bit. His finger was pointing accusatory at Moonjo, whose grin only widened at the expanding embarrassment on Jaeho’s face.

“I’m saying that you shouldn’t criticize Junghwa when you can’t even be loyal to your girlfriend.” Moonjo’s eyes looked thirsty for blood. Jongwoo looked to Jieun for a brief moment, the air knocked out of his lungs at the tears building in her inner corners and streaming down her cheeks. Junghwa moved towards her, drawing both arms around her in a comforting manner before getting her up and taking her out of the room.

Jongwoo felt bad for her, despite it all. She was still his friend. And Jaeho was an asshole beyond comparison.

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU-?”

“Jaeho sit down, don’t be so immature,” Jongwoo said, knowing full-well he wasn’t merely adding to the conversation but wood to the fire.

And the fire burst into the sky, flames charring what was in the way.

“HEY, don’t you DARE give me that, you fucking bastard!”, Jaeho yelled, turning around quicker than expected, tripping on Moonjo’s conveniently placed foot. What followed, Jongwoo’s mind recollected in a blur: Jaeho fell down, clawing at Jongwoo’s torso as he did so, causing Jongwoo to fall down as well, both crashing into the floor, their heads colliding with an unpleasant ‘knock’.

---

When he came to, Jongwoo’s world was reeling, and a headache was pounding heavily against the back of his forehead. He felt like he was nestled in a mass of cushions, warmth and a pleasant smell filling his senses.

“Oh god, I was about to take you to the hospital,” a deep voice above him mumbled. “And or kill Jaeho beforehand.”

Jongwoo furrowed his brows in confusion, not fully opening his eyes. He squinted against the ache in his head and the darkness around him.

“Anyways, are you alright, jagi?”

Moonjo.

Was he laying in his lap?

“I think so...?”, he murmured, attempting to open his eyes a little more. It was dark – weren’t they just at a party? In the distance, there was the dampened sound of music, but it was mostly quiet save for Moonjo’s slightly worried babbling.

In the next moment, Jongwoo was hoisted upright with tender hands, and only then did he try to open his eyes fully. In front of him was, unsurprisingly, Moonjo’s face. His eyes were bigger than usual, soft as always, and a force to be reckoned with. Barely conscious again, Jongwoo found it wouldn’t be so bad if he could fall asleep like this: sitting in Moonjo’s lap, the other’s arms around him to keep him steady.

“You can still kill Jaeho, if you want to though,” Jongwoo mumbled, eyes focused on Moonjo’s lips.  “He’s had it coming, the bastard.”

Moonjo laughed in a low tone, dragging Jongwoo in for a proper hug, burying his head in the conjuncture between the younger man’s neck and collar bones. He breathed in Jongwoo’s scent and peppered a row of kisses against the protruding collar bone.

“Always, darling,” a kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. “You’d be happy to join of course.”

Jongwoo giggled, still a little delirious from the pounding in his head. He’d like that.

Chapter Text

Jongwoo submitted the story 10 days before the deadline, an impressive feat only made possible by Moonjo’s entrancing remarks and encouragements, a great array of energy drinks and coffee, and too much energy spent on something that doesn’t even account for his university grades. All in all, Jongwoo was content, hitting ‘send’ and slumping over in his chair as the adrenalin left his body.

“I did it!” he vocalizes into the room, balled fists shooting into the air.

Moonjo snorts from his side of the dorm, engulfed in a blanket, books in front of him as usual. “You submitted the story? That’s wonderful,” he muses, putting a bookmark into one of the textbooks before closing it and abandoning his bed clogged with studying material in favor of Jongwoo’s.

“How did writing the rest of it go?” he inquires, setting Jongwoo’s laptop aside to properly sit next to him. Jongwoo shrugged, leaning against the wall, his legs thrown over Moonjo’s lap.

“I realized I wrote my pianist oddly similar to you. Reading it through this morning, I felt like it was you who looked back at me from the page,” Jongwoo huffed jokingly.

Moonjo raised his eyebrows at the statement, busying himself with looking at Jongwoo’s face. “Did you, huh?”

A little scrutinized under his gaze, Jongwoo shrugged once more. ‘It was uncanny almost, down to the mannerisms and way of speech,’ he thought to himself.

“What, are you going to accuse me of plagiarism?” Jongwoo joked instead. He didn’t have to tell Moonjo that his pianist was a picture perfect clone, strikingly similar in ways he hadn’t even noticed upon writing.

Moonjo shook his head. “No, I’d be delighted to have been your muse,” he laughs, hands gliding down to massage Jongwoo’s knees as they rest in his lap. Jongwoo can’t help but look at him with dreamy eyes, because yes, he is his muse in a way.

“Although people would be aghast at being the reference to a fictional serial killer, don’t you think?” Moonjo’s hands knead the flesh over his knees, lithe fingers tapping across his thighs. “But I’m rather flattered, so it’s alright.”

Jongwoo grimaces, though his expression undeniably hides a grin underneath. Moonjo is so fucking cryptic sometimes. And Jongwoo fucking loves every second of it.

---

“You’re sure everything is going to be alright? Do you think they’ll like me?”, Moonjo asks, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he drags his suitcase up behind him. His anxiety is near permeating Jongwoo’s personal bubble, it’s like Moonjo is buzzing with it, too afraid of what his mother and brother of all people would think of him. As endearing as it was, Jongwoo stood to wait on him and calm him down.

The walk from the train station had been short enough that they avoided taking a taxi, instead enjoying the chilly Busan air. Although now, hiking up the slight incline towards his family’s apartment complex, Jongwoo regretted the decision, feeling his coat cling to his slightly sweaty skin.

“Of course, you’re very charming if I’m being honest,” he reassures. Although, Moonjo isn’t too far off the beaten path. Jongwoo had lost tooth and nail over the fiasco that may be introducing Moonjo to his mother, the entirety of their train ride.

How would he even introduce Moonjo to the two of them? Hello eomma, dongsaeng - this is my slightly unhinged but loving boyfriend, Moonjo. We meet because we’re roommates, and then Moonjo wouldn’t leave me alone.

His mother was certainly not the most accepting of his apparent interest in boys. And still a little hung up on Jongwoo marrying Jieun, as fantastical as it was. The building was visible at the end of the street now, a mere five minutes until he would phone his mother to let them in.

“In fact, my mother may just adopt you in favor of me,” he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It made a loving grin return to Moonjo’s face, as he playfully swatted Jongwoo’s hand away.

“Ha ha,” he said aloud in a monotonous voice, “you’re exaggerating, jagi.”

Jongwoo giggled, before his mind fixated on the pet name, as loving as it was. In spite of the chills it had sent down his back when Moonjo first called him ‘jagiya’ or any reiterations of it, Jongwoo had grown quite fond of the endearment. Or the other variations Moonjo smoothly added in speech. Honey, babe, darling, dear. It all sounded too good to be true sometimes.

“You’re gonna have to hold off the pet names for a while. I don’t want them to get suspicious of anything, okay? They’re not that supportive, never have been,” Jongwoo explains, feeling a stinging in his chest.

Moonjo nods, mumbles “Sure thing,” and mouths ‘jagiya’ as Jongwoo looks at him. Both snort, and then Jongwoo hauls Moonjo, both suitcases in tow, up towards the building.

“Come on, I’m starving,” he laughs.

Despite Jongwoo’s worries, both their arrival and introduction as well as lunch went surprisingly well. His mother was almost fawning over Moonjo, who politely helped her arrange the dishes she had cooked. Jongwoo stifled a proud grin, watching the two of them flit around the kitchen. It felt oddly domestic, his boyfriend and his mother.

“This is Moonjo, the friend I was talking about,” Jongwoo had decidedly not introduced him as his boyfriend, of course. Although he was aware of the suspicious expression his brother made, eyes moving between him and Moonjo as if he were assessing the statement’s integrity.

Jongwoo’s mother, however, had been delighted, showering Moonjo with compliments, and pulling Jongwoo into a crushing hug to welcome the pair.

“It’s so good to see Jongwoo has made friends in university!”, his mother had exclaimed, “He’s a bit introverted, as you probably know.”

Jongwoo could only roll his eyes fondly at her oversharing. Oh, how good it was to be back at home. Moonjo on the other hand had made a confused expression, looking back around at Jongwoo.

“Really? You’re not good at making friends?”, he had asked, voice sincere before dropping off into an amused chuckle. Jongwoo snorted, retorting “Yeah right, because you’re so good at it.”

His mother had laughed as well, patting Moonjo on the shoulder before returning into the kitchen to put lunch onto the table.

The afternoon had turned quite calm after this, all four of them seated together at the table. Jongwoo’s brother hadn’t ceased his odd staring, and it made Jongwoo overly conscious of his own actions, contemplating whether or not Moonjo and him were obvious about their more-than-friends relationship. Was he smiling too much at the other; touching him too intimately?

Moonjo wasn’t calling him pet names at the very least, and his antics were much less flirty than Jongwoo was used to.

“So, what are you planning to do today?” his mother asked, putting away the dishes after their lunch. Moonjo and Jongwoo had volunteered to help her washing them and were now squeezed side to side at the sink. She had found them both absurdly long washing gloves – in yellow and pink.

Jongwoo shrugged, coating his gloved hand in soap suds as he shrubbed at one of the bowls.

“I thought I could show Moonjo around a little, and we’d go on a walk,” he responded, feeling Moonjo’s hand brush against his own inside the sink.

His mother set the last bout of dishes down on the counter next to Moonjo, nodding her head. “That’s a great idea! Moonjo, you’re going to love it, this city is very beautiful,” she explains, smiling up at Moonjo, who returns the smile.

“Actually, why don’t you go now? I can finish the dishes on my own, Jongwoo,” she offers, adding that they should profit of the nice weather while it lasts. The weather forecast for the evening had been heavy snow.

Moonjo shakes his head politely, “Oh, it’s really not a problem. We’ll finish the dishes and go afterwards, right Jongwoo?”

Jongwoo nodded as well, watching his mother light up with glee. “You’re so polite,” she beams, “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to it, have fun afterwards.”

And with that, his mother makes her way out to sit next to his brother on the couch. He’s immersed in his video game, not even looking up as she comes towards him.

Now alone before the sink, Jongwoo elbows Moonjo softly in his side. “She fucking loves you, oh my god,” he’s giggling under his breath. Moonjo snorts, putting his glove covered hand, dirtied with soap suds and dish water, over Jongwoo’s own.

“I don’t blame her, I’m irresistible, babe,” Moonjo whispers with a smirk. Jongwoo has half a mind to not reprimand him for the term of endearment, ending up giggling a little more.

“Oh, shut it,” he bites back. “Let’s finish the dishes and go on a walk, huh, ‘babe’?”

---

Moonjo and Jongwoo made their way out the apartment, both clad in thick coats and scarves, Moonjo even intertwining their gloved hands despite Jongwoo’s flustered stare.

“Jagiya, my hands are cold,” Moonjo deadpanned in response, and Jongwoo knew it was a bullshit excuse, but he let it slide. He smiled into the nestle of his scarf, hiding the fond expression.

“Sure, I’ll indulge you,” he grinned, tightening their hold, and scooting closer to Moonjo. They didn’t even receive many odd stares, most people running around with last minute Christmas preparations and gifts or holding hands with their own partners.

They ventured down the hill, passing by an array of street food stands, ranging from hoppang to bungeoppang and hotteok. Needless to say, the air smelled pleasantly of food, and despite lunch Jongwoo already felt himself growing hungry again, if only to indulge in some sweets. The fish market on the other corner of the street – the one his mother worked at – gave off another waft of different smells.

“So, where do you want to go?”, Jongwoo asked, as though they were aimlessly walking down the hill. On either side of them, the buildings contained shops, boutiques and restaurants; the pier visible on the horizon in front of them. He could simply walk with him too the sea, even if it wasn’t the most beautiful this time of the year.

“I don’t care that much about where we’re going,” Moonjo admits, “I’m just happy to walk with you.”

That sends a soft heat coiling through Jongwoo, and he presses closer to him, almost leaning onto Moonjo’s frame now. “Me too actually,” he muses, and thus they continue walking relatively aimlessly. If their hands intertwined further, and pressed into Moonjo’s coat pocket to keep warm, nobody said anything about it.

After a while, Jongwoo finally came to annoying Moonjo into buying him something sweet from the various street food vendors, his choice landing on cinnamon sugar hotteoks. Moonjo smiled fondly, paying for two, and guiding Jongwoo back onto the street by the hand.

“Sugary,” Moonjo remarked, biting into his hotteok, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips near instantly. Jongwoo snorted, “Very insightful of you.”

“I’m not used to having sugar literally stuck on my lips,” Moonjo mumbled, his tongue darting out to swipe the sugary goo off his lips, with great success.

“What, you prefer salty instead?”, Jongwoo retorted without much thought, a little transfixed by the older boy’s tongue. “Uh, wait-“, he flushed red a little, recognizing the accidental innuendo. It made Moonjo chuckle as well, squeezing the younger boy’s hand.

“Maybe.”

Jongwoo squeezed his hand. “Shut up.”

The sun set lower in the sky as their walk continued into the late afternoon. Next to them was the sea, salty smell in their nostrils, the sound of subdued waves crashing into the sandy beach accompanying them.

“Wait, is that- JONGWOO,” a voice behind them yelled, causing both of them to turn around, hands still interlocked in Moonjo’s coat pocket.

Jongwoo’s eyes were flitting all over the place, searching for the voice’s owner, as he suddenly caught wind of a person waving their hand in the air. It was a boy around his own age, surrounded by a group of people, and for a brief second, he looked a lot like-

“Seungwan?”, Jongwoo spoke, although it sounded more like a question. Something about the boy looked familiar; a classmate of his and Jaeho’s. Not particularly nice, but Jongwoo didn’t really care to socialize much with him, so who was he to know.

At the name, the boy lit up, grinning from ear to ear. Both his group of friends and Seungwan sauntered over to the pair, and a rumble of dread made itself clear in Jongwoo’s stomach. Seungwan’s grin was bordering on conceit, nose upturned as if he was sneering down at them. Even if Moonjo was a good deal taller than him.

“Jongwoo, long time no see,” Seungwan muses, looking him up and down. Jongwoo grimaces. “Mhh, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he presses forward.

Their prying glances move towards Moonjo, still poised and cold as always. Jongwoo almost delights in the way one of Seungwan’s friends – Minho or Minwoo, he thinks – tries to intimidate Moonjo to no avail. Moonjo simply lifts an eyebrow, making himself ever so slightly taller by straightening his back, and there’s a terrified quality to Minho or Minwoo’s expression. The moment that their attention was off Jongwoo, the younger boy hastily let go of Moonjo’s hand, moving it into his own coat pocket for warmth.

But by the twinkle in Seungwan’s eyes, Jongwoo’s action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, Jongwoo, were you,” he chuckles, leaning back towards his friends, “holding hands?”

A giggle goes through the group.

Jongwoo scoffs, stepping closer. “What’s your problem, huh?” he barks, finding himself eye to eye with Seungwan, who takes the opportunity to step closer as well. In Jongwoo’s peripheral vision, he sees Moonjo standing closer as well, readying himself to interact as if he were a predator preying on a victim.

Seungwan laughs, bits of spit flying into Jongwoo’s face. It makes his stomach churn in disgust, but Jongwoo only crowds the other boy more. What a fucking lunatic. This date was going so great.

“What’s my problem? I just wanted to say hello; didn’t know I was intercepting you and your boyfriend,” he teases, putting on a sickly sweet expression; lips pulled into a pout. ‘What a great target to punch’, Jongwoo found, balling his hands up inside his pockets.

“Shut the fuck up, and leave us alone,” Jongwoo grits.

But Seungwan only huffs, nose still held high, fingers of one hand dancing up the middle of Jongwoo’s coat, until they fist into the hem with an uncomfortable twist. . He mumbles a string of slurs under his breath before letting go and turning back around to his friends.

Jongwoo sees red. Blood fucking red.

But it’s not his own, nor his own bout of rage.

Before anybody can really react, Moonjo sprints out of his prior position and decks Seungwan in the back of his head. An unnerving crack resounds, Jongwoo hissing as he registers it.

Everything stops still for a moment. Moonjo is seething, warm against cold; Jongwoo can tell even if his back is to him.

“I wouldn’t say shit like that again if I were you,” he exclaims in that oh-so-terrifying low voice of his, grabbing the lapel of Seungwan’s coat for leverage. He’s pulling him up, and the grin spreading on Moonjo’s face has even Jongwoo’s skin erect with goosebumps.

For good measure, Moonjo leans in to whisper something into Seungwan’s ear, his hold wandering upwards in the meantime to clutch around his throat, like a warning. Seungwan takes a deep breath, pupils dilated weirdly. Emotions seemingly flood his face, mouth distorting in ways Jongwoo couldn’t even describe, eyes veering towards terror and fear.

Moonjo releases him, taking one step backwards.

“And now fuck off.”

He doesn’t even need to tell them twice.

Jongwoo accepts Moonjo’s hand back gladly, still a little stunned from the interaction. In place of the hurting ache in his stomach, butterflies have made their home. But they’ve got trouble with flying, tethered to the bottom by a heavy weight.

Moonjo smiles down at him, and then they’re walking alongside the sea again. A calm breeze wafts through Jongwoo’s coat, taking the scent of sea water with it.

“Why can’t people just leave us alone? What’s with all the shitty insults?” Jongwoo whispers, head nearly buried in Moonjo’s side.

Moonjo doesn’t say anything put press him closer.

---

“I know what you need to calm down, jagi,” Moonjo whispered in his ear, both sitting on the mattress besides his bed. Jongwoo had showered and dressed in the most comfortable set of pajamas he had packed, Moonjo having done the same. Outside the window, one could glimpse the snowflakes raging around through the darkening evening sky.

Although his skin was pleasantly warm to the touch, Jongwoo’s head settled in Moonjo’s lap. He feels Moonjo’s fingertips against his scalp. The bruise underneath Moonjo’s eye had been rendered almost invisible, after Jongwoo had dabbed foundation and color correction on it, having stopped by a department store on their way back. After his shower, flecks of red and purple shone through it, circling his eye like a crescent moon. Jongwoo felt a little bad about it, or maybe even a lot.

“A massage, perhaps?”, Moonjo throws into the room, rhetorical question more than anything. Jongwoo relaxes into the way his fingers press into his skin surrounding his ears. Nearly has his eyes rolling back in his skull, as the pressure gives way to soothing circles.

“Are you seducing me?”, Jongwoo whispers with an amused tone. Moonjo threads his fingers through Jongwoo’s hair, drawing small circles into his scalp. The only answer he gets is a sharper tug at one of the strands, followed by a hushed ‘maybe’. Moonjo grins over him, and even if Jongwoo could fall asleep with the older boy’s hands in his hair, he relents that thought.

Instead, Jongwoo sits up – requiring a lot of energy, mental and physical to escape the massage – and faces Moonjo, clumsily seated on the other’s lap. Their lips meet, quickly giving way to their tongues intertwining, Moonjo’s teeth tugging at Jongwoo’s lips. The younger shifts in his lap, getting on his knees instead to push Moonjo’s face upwards in his cradling hands. Once more, their lips connected, soft pants filling the room, as Moonjo’s arms feverishly snaked around Jongwoo’s torso to hold and to feel.

“Does this answer your question better?” Moonjo pants as they break for air. Their foreheads stay connected – and Jongwoo can see the sweat beads building up on Moonjo’s temples.

Jongwoo nods. “Yeah – definitely.” Surges back in, this time toppling Moonjo over, his back hitting the mattress with a soft ‘thump’ that he can only hope is overheard by his mother and brother. It elicits a giggle out of Moonjo which is short-lived as Jongwoo lets a hand roam under Moonjo’s pajama shirt.

As if on instinct, one of Moonjo’s hands finds its place in the back of Jongwoo’s hair, while the other grabs at Jongwoo’s left hip, drawing him closer and dig his fingers into the exposed flesh just under the hem of his shirt.

A particularly hard scratch of his fingernails results in Jongwoo gasping into the hollow of Moonjo’s neck.

“Or on second thought,” Jongwoo kisses – and bites – a trail of red and purple down Moonjo’s neck, delighting in the other’s muffled noises and the hand in his hair pulling tight. “Maybe show me some more of those seduction techniques? I’m not convinced yet~.”

Jongwoo let the Moonjo’s gravitational pull throw him under for the night, enjoying it as Moonjo switched their positions with gentle hands, doing even better things with them – and with not so gentle hands. The moon stood high, casting a soft glow into Jongwoo’s childhood bedroom, and Moonjo and Jongwoo were lying side to side, one of Moonjo’s legs hooked in between Jongwoo’s own, halfway sprawled on the younger boy’s chest. The mattress was slightly uncomfortable for two people, but their body warmth and pleasure as well as the cozy blanket pulled over them lulled them into sleep, no nightmares in sight.

The morning, however, bore much worse than soothing dreams. Their intertwined bodies were shadowed by the bed’s frame, though on full display for anybody to walk through the door.

“Jongwoo, what is this?”, his mother’s impatient voice rings through the room, loud enough to stir the both of them. A small pause, Jongwoo curls back up to Moonjo as the noise subsides.

Then his mother shrieks again, throwing a pillow onto the pair. “JONGWOO, wake up!”

It incites something in Jongwoo. As if thrown in hot water, he leaps out of their small bed, grateful that Moonjo and him had been conscious enough to put their underwear back on last night. Limbs still caught up in between Moonjo’s body, he tumbled forwards, sort of catching himself before he could sprawl over the bedroom floor.

“Eomma- I can-,” he yelled, waking Moonjo up in the process. The older boy jerked awake, one hand immediately coming up to hold Jongwoo’s ankle, as if he were in need of protection. “Jagiya, everything alright?”, Moonjo mumbled before fully taking in the situation.

His mother stares down at Jongwoo, arms crossed over her chest, although with one brow raised in an inquisitory manner.

“Jagiya?”, she repeats, the word chilling Jongwoo to his bones. Moonjo even flinches a little at the sound, sheepishly retracting his hand from where it is holding Jongwoo’s ankle.

“Eomma, we didn’t, we weren’t-“ the words don’t come out like they’re supposed to. Jongwoo gulps down the rising bile in his throat.

“What? You weren’t sleeping with him? He called you ‘jagiya’, I presume this isn’t the first occurrence?”, his mother states, voice monotonous and tinged with disdain. It fucking hurts, and Jongwoo’s face grows red at the accusations.

It hadn’t been the first occurrence. But who was his mother to criticize it?

Moonjo sat up properly behind him.

He rubs his eyes, and Jongwoo can see his mother’s scrutinizing gaze following the action.

“Is this what you want in life?”, she was looking back at Jongwoo now. “What about a proper marriage, and- and children?”

Jongwoo wants to cower back into Moonjo’s chest as her words slice through his skin. ‘What about me and my grandchildren?’ would be a better phrasing. Instead he balls his hands up into fists, standing his ground.

“Eomma, this is who I am. This is what I want in life,” Jongwoo defends himself, voice thankfully not breaking.

“Why couldn’t you have ended up with a nice girl?”, she adds, a little desperate. Her voice is whiny, emotional, and it drives tears of anger into Jongwoo’s eyes. Silence enveloped the room, as nobody continued speaking. Not even Jongwoo’s mother, only staring at the two of them, her right foot tapping against the linoleum floor.

After another minute, she sighed deeply, turning around in the doorframe. “Breakfast’s ready. Come eat.” And with that, his mother left the room, closing the door in her wake. As she leaves, Jongwoo and Moonjo turn to look each other in the eyes; feelings a mix of amusement, bewilderment and terror. Moonjo looked a little crazed, eyes twinkling.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” he blurted out. “Didn’t think your mother would see us sleeping with each other, huh?”

Moonjo toys with his words, the grin his lips were stretched into a little self-satisfied.

Jongwoo on the other hand grows even more flustered, hitting Moonjo’s shoulder at the remark. “She didn’t see us sleeping with each other, don’t phrase it like that!” Jongwoo exclaims, “She just knew that we did.” The rest of his sentence grows inaudible as he mumbles it into Moonjo’s shirt, a pained smile on his face.

Moonjo ruffles his hair with one hand, leaning on his other for balance.

“On the bright side, you won’t have to worry about how you’re going to break the news to her anymore,” he chuckles lightly, earning himself a playful slap on the back. Moonjo drags Jongwoo up to his feet, offering him an empathetic smile, although the mischievous sparkle doesn’t yet leave his eyes.

Jongwoo grits his teeth. “I guess so,” he huffs, the flush slowly ebbing away from his face. This was certainly not the way he had expected Christmas morning to go. They change clothes in silence, both finding themselves dressed nearly head to toe in black, safe for Jongwoo’s dark denim jeans.

The floor feels cold and distant under his bare feet as they walk to the kitchen. Moonjo’s directly besides Jongwoo, but the younger boy barely registers the presence, not when he’s over the threshold of the kitchen door, eye to eye with his mother and brother sitting at the table. In one corner of the adjoined living room is the plastic Christmas tree, now a small lump of presents underneath it.

Sitting down, Jongwoo winces at the stare his brother gives him. Moonjo joins him, inspecting the array of dishes spread out on the kitchen table. Jongwoo doesn’t feel particularly hungry anymore, despite a gnawing ache in his stomach. Something twists and turns inside of him; and it only worsens by the minute.

“So, are you two a thing?”, his brother asks, taking a spoonful of soup in his mouth. Jongwoo’s mother huffs, slapping him on the wrist. “Ya, what are you doing?”

Moonjo tries to hide a suave smile behind his water glass. “Do you reckon he’d bring me to meet his family over Christmas otherwise?” he answers. Jongwoo sighs, slumping his shoulders, as he watches his mother grow even redder from exasperation.

His brother raises both eyebrows, grin tethering the line between conceited and amused. “So you’re not just fucking?”, he asks, making his mother stand up from her seated position in the blink of an eye, chair scratching unpleasantly against the floor at the sudden movement.

“Stop it, that’s inappropriate!”

Jongwoo looks back and forth between her, his brother and Moonjo, the latter of whom seems to enjoy his mother’s rising temperament a little too much. He too tries and fails to conceal the grin breaking out in his face.

“Eomma, it’s fine,” he adds. In fact, it’s better than his mother’s relentless homophobic remarks about marrying a girl and being proper and normal.

“Eomma, I’m just asking questions,” his brother explains. “I knew something was up anyways. They’re too touchy to be just friends, it was just a matter of time to walk in on them together.” His brother’s non-existent verbal filter was showing through, his mother balling her hands up into fists to avoid her own anger bubbling to the outside. She sighs, puts on a cursory smile, and sits back down.

“No more questions like this over breakfast, eat up now,” his mother’s voice is a little pained, like the words are caught in her throat.

Jongwoo lowers his head for a scoop of his soup, catching Moonjo’s satisfied grin from the corner of his vision.

---

In the evening, after a day of frankly sheer unimaginable awkwardness, Moonjo finally returned to put Jongwoo out of his misery. The walk had seemingly worked wonders, glow returning to his pale skin. Or perhaps he had grown paler, near translucent.

Jongwoo almost jumped out of his room, grabbing the other’s Christmas present, and ran past his mother and his brother. His mother still hadn’t lost the disapproving stare, whereas his brother had returned to playing video games. Jongwoo couldn't care less, in that moment, leading Moonjo out the apartment before the older boy had even properly entered.

The pair walks out onto the rooftop, soon greeted by a mellow breeze. The gust of wind has Jongwoo shivering in his padded coat and drawing the scarf around his neck tighter. Above them, the darkening gray sky forebode the stormy weather Jongwoo had heard about in the weather forecast this morning. Their exhaling breaths condensed into white smoke, Moonjo’s accompanied by the nicotine smoke of his cigarettes. The air felt cold and crisp, and Jongwoo instinctively crowded closer to Moonjo.

“It’s nice out,” Moonjo remarked, taking another drag of his cigarette, leaning his upper body against the rooftop railing. His profile is illuminated by the streetlights below, in an almost angelic manner. Pale skin clashing against red orange neon.

Jongwoo nods absentmindedly. His hands feel clammy and sweaty around the package’s wrapping. “I got you a present,” he mumbles, pushing the present out into Moonjo’s field of vision. He had wrapped it in black paper - an option much to befitting to pass on – and thrown a red ribbon over it. It was hastily tied, and not the prettiest but the packaging wasn’t supposed to be the highlight anyway.

Moonjo looks back at him and takes it in hand with a smile. The lit cigarette is passed onto Jongwoo to hold, so that Moonjo can open the present properly, setting it down onto the broad railing.

As Moonjo’s fingers peel back the wrapping paper, Jongwoo observes silently. He breaks open the carton box, and then Moonjo coos in appreciation at the sight, taking out the package of seeds and twisting it around to look at the picture.

 “Jagi, you didn’t have to,” he whisks his head back towards Jongwoo, lips upturned and eyes looking softer than ever.

Jongwoo finds himself grinning as well, sheepishly chuckling at the praise. He had bought him a plant – to add to his growing collection proudly presented in their dorm room. It was a moonflower, as mysterious and nocturnal as Moonjo himself, and Jongwoo thought the name was quite a nice fit as well.

“It’s a moonflower,” he explains. “I thought it might suit you.”

Moonjo’s grins softens impossibly more. He closes the box again, setting it aside on the floor to engulf Jongwoo in a grounding hug, his scent of eucalyptus and lavender enveloping Jongwoo whole as his nose is met with Moonjo’s hair.

“It’s perfect, darling,” Moonjo whispers in his ear, before pulling back. Jongwoo raises his finger to draw a lock of hair that fell into his face behind Moonjo’s ear.

“I got you something as well,” the older boy says, fishing a rectangular package out of his coat pocket.

Jongwoo takes the present in hand, playing with the duct tape securing the wrapping paper to open it. Inside is a leatherbound version of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and Jongwoo can’t help but smile as he drags his fingertips across the engraved letters.

“It’s gorgeous, thank you,” he looks back up at Moonjo. The other looks directly at him, cigarette already back in his fingers. For a moment, they’re just looking at each other, and then Jongwoo lets the book fall into his own coat pocket.

Jongwoo is chewing on his lip, distracting himself from the sight before him, as much as he would like to get lost in it. And trying to piece together a string of words amidst his dried-up throat.

He opts for the bland but concise, “I’m sorry, by the way.” 

Jongwoo’s head receded into the soft nestling his scarf and coat created, seeking warmth. Although he felt lit ablaze as Moonjo directed his gaze at him, brows furrowed in confusion, plush lips opened to push forth another cloud of smoke.

“What for?”

At the response, Jongwoo can only shrug, blush creeping onto his cheeks. It’s the cold, he tells himself.

“For, you know,” Jongwoo mumbles, walking closer to Moonjo, “for my mother and brother. What they said wasn’t okay in the slightest.” His own upper arms braced on the cool steel railing, Jongwoo felt his upper body relax; despite the tightness constricting inside of him. Moonjo hummed besides him, turning around as well in order to align his shoulder with Jongwoo’s own. There was a gaping hole aching inside Jongwoo’s stomach, organs churning around in a seething fire.

‘Couldn’t you have just settled down with a nice girl?’, reverberates through his thoughts. His mother’s idea of a nice girl was obviously Jieun, kind and sweet Jieun. She didn’t understand Jongwoo, they’d clash in the long run. Why couldn’t his mother accept that him and Jieun weren’t going to be together? Why couldn’t she just accept Moonjo?

The feelings bore themselves deeper, bile seemingly rising up in his throat. 

“Don’t worry too much, you have nothing to be sorry for, Jagiya,” he explains, exhaling more smoke into the evening air.

“Your brother was quite funny actually, I don’t think he meant to be malicious with his remarks,” Moonjo adds, looking out over the buildings.

Jongwoo lifts his head ever so slightly, pressing his own body line further into Moonjo next to him. Comforting, sheltering both from the cold and the oncoming wave of self-consciousness.

Moonjo stills in his movements, putting out his cigarette. Then, within seconds, his hands snake around Jongwoo’s shivering form, clasping together around his shoulders. Moonjo’s head leans against his left shoulder.

“But I know that family is shitty like that sometimes,” he mumbles, edge of softness in his words. It has Jongwoo’s breath hitching and tears prickling in his eyes at the knowledge of what might follow. He utters a rather un-eloquent ‘Uhuh?’ in response, and his arms curb around Moonjo’s waist for mutual affection.

“Ms. Eom was horrible in more ways than one. She was quite nonchalant about me maybe not liking girls, safe for snide comments. But she’s still been trying to set me up with daughters of friends of hers or something like that,” he says, and Jongwoo found his talking to sound more and more like word vomit.

As if Moonjo was talking and explaining for talking’s sake, teeth chittering and entire body shivering in the coldness. Jongwoo turns around to look him in the eyes, face partially still illuminated. A hand creeps up to hold Moonjo’s cheek, and the older boy leans into the touch, before continuing.

“And you know, the entire abusive thing,” Moonjo clears his throat. “Your mom is just confused about it. Not that it excuses her behaviour, but you definitely shouldn’t apologize for it, jagi.”

It has Jongwoo’s lips twitching into a smile, teeth on display. The weight of Moonjo’s frame against his is calming, an anchor to hold onto amidst the crashing waves in his mind. The storm ebbs away into Moonjo’s words, into the tales he’s told Jongwoo of his childhood. Calling Ms. Eom horrible was a tinge of sugarcoating; the woman was a devil, in Jongwoo’s mind.

“Are you alright?”, he asked.

Moonjo’s eyes pierced right through him, a mellow hint of red reflected in his black pupils. Jongwoo could even glimpse the tears building in his inner corners, sclera reddening as well.

“Yeah,” he responded, a breath in between the two of them.

Jongwoo tilted his head, smiling at his boyfriend. “No, I mean – Are you alright after what Ms. Eom has done to you?”

Now comes a blink-and-you-miss-it shrug in response. “I guess,” another short-lived answer, Moonjo seemingly cowering into their embracing arms. Jongwoo sighs internally, and lowers his voice even more, one hand rubbing along Moonjo’s side.

“You should go to the police. She’s dangerous, shouldn’t be around people,” he spoke, tethering the line between being concise and giving way to the flow of words brewing up in him. Moonjo should sue her, should do something to get back at her, to put it behind her. But the older boy just laughs briefly, head burrowed into the scarf draped over Jongwoo’s shoulder and collarbones.

“Thanks, jagi. But it’s too much of a hassle, don’t you think?” Moonjo cranes his neck, looking up at Jongwoo through lidded eyes with a pointed grin. His teeth are on display, even if it feels like a cursory baring of his own danger, his own power.

“She’s a horrible person, she’s hurt me, you’re right. And I wouldn’t want to drag you into this, even if it’s nice to be cared for,” his voice breaks off into quietude halfway through the last syllables. It tugs at Jongwoo’s heartstrings.

He feels himself laughing as well, dragging Moonjo impossibly close. The cold air burns a little against his bare face.

“You’ve helped me find myself and deal with my problems too, you know? God, you’re infuriating sometimes, and a real creep the rest of the time, but I feel content being who I am! I’ve stood up to Jaeho, damnit!”

Moonjo looks at him with a sparkle in his eyes, own grin widening with amusement.

Jongwoo continues, bouts of adrenalin and excitement pushing him. “And isn’t that what being in a relationship is about? Helping each other? I swear, you’re going to let me help you just as much as you’ve helped me, or else I’m breaking up.”

“Jagi, you wouldn’t dare,” Moonjo grins.

“Oh no, definitely. In fact, I’ve decided I like Seokyoo-,” Jongwoo barely makes it through finishing his sentence before his breath is cut short by Moonjo’s nimble fingers tickling his sides. One hand pushes underneath his sweater and grazes across the sensitive parts of his torso – fucking traitor.

Moonjo’s ministrations continue until Jongwoo plasters his lips onto the other’s. He pulls Moonjo’s upper lip in between his own, softly moving his mouth in tandem with him.

“I mean it. I’ll help you out, so come to me and talk to me if you’re having a hard time, alright?”

Moonjo nods, adding “The same goes for you too, jagi.”

It had Jongwoo dipping in for another kiss, interlacing his hands behind Moonjo’s neck now, as their lips find each other. It’s much slower, although the older boy wastes little time in pushing his tongue into Jongwoo’s mouth.

They part with sparkle illuminating both of their faces, besides the streetlight.

“I fucking love you, Moonjo-ya,” Jongwoo whispers, mouth still slightly agape. “I’ve never loved anybody more than you, you insane bastard. What would I do without you? You’re my muse.”

A warm flush graces Moonjo’s face, he leans down ever so slightly to kiss Jongwoo’s forehead. “I love you too, more than anything or anyone else. We’ll stay together forever, if you allow me, my dear. What is a muse without their artist?”

Jongwoo pulls him down for a proper kiss, catching the way Moonjo’s lips curve into a smile where they meet his skin. Jongwoo wouldn’t mind that – if they stayed together, together forever like this, embracing underneath the graying evening sky, on the rooftop in Busan.