Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seo Juntae just couldn’t stop staring.

The signature red of the Ganghak jersey seared into his brain. The amount of obscene sweat coated his body amidst the reflecting lights high above, highlighting his toned arms and muscles when he commanded the basketball. There’s that glint in his eyes whenever he stares down his opponents like a hungry wolf ready to tear through his enemies. The beads of sweat pool on his forehead and one of them races down his face in the heat of the game, trickling down to his chin. He dribbles the ball two or three more times before a jolt of movement sends the bead of sweat straight down to the concrete beneath him and his feet are as fast as lightning. 

Juntae should be cheering for his own team, his own colors. He’s wearing streaks of blue, sporting his own uniform mirroring his friends on the basketball court who were sporting sky blue jerseys, in a gesture of solidarity. But there is just something in the way this man maneuvers through his friends. He manages to fake out Hyuntak and shoots the ball into the hoop before Humin could intercept him, earning another two points for the Ganghak team and a roar of support from his fellow schoolmates. 

This was a regular occurrence in their basketball matches. Eunjang had always had a rivalry with Ganghak—it has been that way since the previous alumnus declared war. The school culture was that everyone should be there to support the upcoming basketball matches. Juntae attended Eunjang, now moving onto his third and final year, and he was present during their games in the previous season, where the new stars of next three years Humin and Hyuntak almost carried their team to victory. 

The hindrance? Geum Seongje.

The heartbreak prince of Ganghak. Handsome, charming, alluring, cocky and narcissistic. A playboy with the ladies at Yeo-il at day, practices basketball and leads his team to victory to gloat in the faces of Eunjang kids by night. 

Make no mistake—beyond his playboy charms, everything suggests he is a connoisseur of his craft. He was able to break down the weaknesses of Eunjang in a singular line of truth: strong offenses, weak defenses. Humin and Hyuntak were formidable opponents, but after a few games, the cracks were showing, like how Baku’s impulsiveness gets the best of him at the tail-end of a game like this one, or how Hyuntak fundamentally lacked defensive capabilities whenever he’d go for offense.

Juntae wasn’t well versed in any of this. His interests shift to a more artistic flair, an avid reader of his manga, watching anime late at night until the teachers come in and enforce curfew. But if there’s one thing he has, it’s his unwavering loyalty and support towards his friends, cheering them on from the sidelines. Although, he would admit to himself that his lustful eyes betray his support, wandering intently at the man in red now grinning at his teammates, patting their backs.

“Juntae…”

The boy doesn’t even spare his friend a glance. “Yeah?”

“You’re drooling.”

“What?!” 

Juntae jolts in shock before bringing a hand to his lips, soon stained with his own saliva, the liquid stringing from his lips to his fingers. Was he salivating over Geum Seongje? This was impossible.

He wipes away his hand on his trousers in a tizzy, feeling shame rise up in his chest and disgust crawling up his throat. He was glad that only Sieun caught him and not Suho, who was too enamored in the game itself to even glance over to see how he was doing. But Yeon Sieun never lets anything slip past that wearying gaze, and Juntae knows he’s in for some grueling interrogation once they get back to their shared dorm.  

“It’s over! Ganghak wins with 106 points!” the announcer shouts into his microphone, whistles blowing all around signifying the end of the game. Juntae doesn’t miss the way that Seongje smirks back at Humin and Hyuntak, both panting from exhaustion, hands on their knees, enjoying his sweet taste of victory. 

Flashes of red beside them erupted into cheers. Some were wearing their uniforms, some were wearing jerseys—hold on, are those girls from Yeo-il holding up signs with each letter spelling out ‘GEUM SEONGJE’?! How popular was this guy anyway? To make it somehow even worse, Ganghak kids roared strings of praise, chanting ‘Geum Seongje! Geum Seongje! Geum Seongje!’ 

Sieun clearly couldn’t deal with any of it anymore, plugging in his headphones and cancelling out the world like the hermit he was. Suho chuckled understandably and patted his head before watching the two Eunjang boys, separating from their teammates with pats on the back and words of reassurance stalking up the bleachers with a defeated look, clearly affected by the loss. 

“I should’ve guarded him,” Hyuntak sighed apologetically, once he reached their seats, towels in his hair. “He almost lost our edge against us if I just…”

“Shh,” Baku shushes him, patting his back. “It’s over now, Gogo! Focus on winning the next round!"

There were four major boarding schools with all-boys housing in Seoul in addition to Eunjang. Ganghak was obvious—but Hyeongshin and Daehyeon were closer to the center of the city, with their own basketball rivalries. Whoever won the playoffs here would eventually go on to play whoever won there at a stadium accommodating the four schools, and so far Baku and Gotak haven’t made it to the finals. It was the first of three rounds, and Eunjang was on a losing streak. If they fail to win the next round, it truly was over. 

It hit them like a sore spot though. After so many hours of grueling training and practicing, still being unable to turn the battle in their favor. 

“Hotpot at the dorm to cheer up those sour attitudes?” Suho’s voice cuts through the tension, and for once Juntae is excited by that. They needed to spend some quality time together after this and fill their stomachs with gluttonous amounts of meat and rice to forget their losses.

Sieun smiles. “I’m okay with hot pot.”

—

An electric fan buzzes back and forth with a low hum, blowing the much-needed cool air into the shared space. Summer was approaching and the scorching heatwaves did nothing to help with their sleeping arrangement, both of the boys waking up with their bedsheets soaked in sweat. The weather was cooler today, and both of them had their blankets draped over their legs whilst the refreshing air circulates through the room. 

Dusk had fallen over Eunjang, the sky slowly becoming devoid of the sunlight that had left Korea. The windows were slightly open with a gap, allowing for the night breeze to make way into their room, as if it would help spare them from the summer heat. Juntae grumbles before shifting in his bed to occupy a more comfortable position, tapping away on Instagram with one goal in mind:

Finding Geum Seongje’s profile. 

He taps and taps, swipes and swipes, fingers practically slamming onto the phone screen, tapping on profiles upon profiles. That was the only sound lingering in his shared dorm with his studious roommate, who was in the bottom bunk texting Suho about the progress of the hot pot dinner. 

Soon though, the excessive tapping just becomes increasingly repetitive. Almost on autopilot, ringing of desperation and yearning. Sieun shuts off his phone before looking at the time—9:52PM, which meant that Suho, Baku and Gotak were going to show up at their dorm at any moment. 

“What’s with all the noise, Juntae?” Sieun probes, although he comes off more confrontive and annoyed than he thought. The boy snaps out of his daze and shuts off his phone with a groan. He turns over his shoulder, fingers gripping his bedframe before his head pops out into Sieun’s point-of-view staring at him from below.

“I was just doing some research,” Juntae replies. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Research on the guy you drooled over today?”

Juntae gulps. How did he forget about that?! Sieun watches his face pale and his lips quirk up slightly to form a knowing smile. “Did you find him yet?”

“No,” Juntae admits. “I haven’t found him at all, and I’ve tried every single tag! I’m now scrolling the official Ganghak page to see if he even follows it.”

“You’re down bad.”

“What?! How do you know what that means, Sieun?”

“I’m online. Sometimes.”

The boy just shakes his head before moving back to his pillows, falling into another endless loop of scrolling and scrolling. He stayed like that for minutes on end before something finally caught his eye.

[@gsxxxgje]

His profile picture was of him in an orange windbreaker, sitting atop of a luxurious car, his left hand shoved in his pockets and his right clasping a cigarette in between his two fingers. Juntae gasps when he realizes he had found the culprit he had been searching for since dusk and sat up on his bed in an instant, clicking on his profile.

To his surprise, it was public. He has two photos—one of his basketball jersey on a plain background and the other is the same set of photos he used for his profile picture.

“Sieun—!” Juntae shouts, eager to show him that he had found Seongje’s profile, but tumbles over just a little too hard and falls from the top bunk. He had a firm grip on his phone, but his small body was thrust into the hardwood floors in pain and agony, landing back first onto the rug beneath him in a groan.

“Oh shit,” Sieun mutters, throwing the blankets off his body to check up on him. “Are you alright, Juntae?”

“Ahh…” Juntae lets out before profusely nodding. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, Sieun-ah.”

“Is your phone okay?” 

Juntae squints, “Yeah, I think so…”

A red heart.

Juntae jolts up as if he wasn’t in pain two seconds ago, the possibility of liking an Instagram post from five months ago from a guy he doesn’t even know shaking him to his core. Did he just like Geum Seongje’s post accidentally?! 

“Oh no,” Juntae stammers. “No…this can’t be happening!”

“What? What’s happening?”

“I liked his photo!” Juntae said, turning his phone around to show Sieun the red heart on the bottom of his post amidst the hundreds of comments. 

Sieun blinked in confusion. “So?”

“So he’s going to think I’m weird! I don’t even know him!”

“Calm down, Juntae,” Sieun soothes, although it doesn’t do much to calm him down. He watches as Juntae hastily unlikes the post and prays that Seongje wasn’t chronically online or had his notifications on.

“He probably doesn’t even care anyways. You’re like an Eunjang kid looking up who Humin and Hyuntak were up against and accidentally liked his post in the process. You’ll be fine.” 

Sieun was right. He was letting his anxiety cloud his judgment and he shouldn’t let it consume it that easily. He let out a breath of relief before shutting off his phone and focused on getting up on the floor, the sharp pain on his back returning after coming back to his senses. 

There’s a soft knock on the door. Juntae knows this meant that dinner had arrived, and he watches as Sieun gets up quietly to let the three boys in. 

“Yo, yo, yo!” Baku shouts, coming in hot with four…no, five two packs of ramen in his hand. Hyuntak is right behind him heaping in a potboiler, the cable swinging around, indecisive on whether it should wrap itself around Hyuntak’s calves or dangle in the fluorescent lights of their dorm.

The two roommates watch as Suho heaps in a massive bag of produce. Meats, veggies and bottles of water for the boiling hotpot date they were going to have, alongside throwaway plates and utensils.

“Why did you guys bring so much?" Sieun complains, worried about the amount. “We are just five people.”

“Suho, Baku and Tak-ah eat a lot anyways," Juntae defends the portion size. “I’m sure this still isn’t enough.”

“He’s right,” Suho lets out a laugh. Hyuntak plugs in the potboiler, dusting his hands off before moving towards the floor and unwrapping bags of beef, bacon and white cabbage from the plastic bags.

Dinner was always a great bonding moment for them all. Even though Suho wasn’t even a student at Eunjang, living with his grandmother and working two part-time jobs whilst continuously pursuing his education at Sieun’s old school, he was always there for them whenever they needed and was a great boyfriend in addition. It was no secret both Humin and Hyuntak welcomed him with open arms. 

As for how the four of them got acquainted, it started after dorm arrangements had been made at the start of Year 2. 

Juntae had been dreading his new roommate. He could thank the Gods above when Choi Hyoman moved out of his dormitory, because the amount of disrespect he had to put up with when he was rooming with him was borderline insane. Rotten food in the fridge, tissues littered all over the room, the communal space being his space instead of their space. Juntae would never wish being roommates with Hyoman on his worst enemy. 

So when Yeon Sieun walks in, soft-spoken, quiet, and sleepless by the circles around his eyes, it feels weird. He wasn’t interested in talking to him at all when he moved in, with his first question being ‘Can you take the top bunk?’

Friendships bloomed that day. Juntae broke him out of his icy shell, sitting with him during lunchtime, pestering him about the importance of vitamins and nutrition, checking to see if the mattress was soft enough for Sieun to get a goodnight’s sleep. It was an attentive amount of care Sieun never got to witness since Suho, but he accepted it with open arms and gratitude. 

It didn’t help that their next door neighbors were excessively loud, though. 

“The basketball guys”—that’s what Juntae had dubbed them before knowing who they were. He knew both of them from the basketball team, having been there last season. The boisterous loud redhead who somehow dyed his hair against school policy and his extroverted foul-mouthed companion who fought him at every opportunity he got. Juntae knew them from afar, but he never in a million years would approach them. 

But enough was enough.

The old television from that room was blaring that one fateful night, cheers erupting whenever someone would score, that Sieun himself decided to take matters into his own hands. He went over, banged on the door and shouted for them to shut up. When Humin and Hyuntak opened the door to stare down Sieun, they were astonished by how such a quiet kid could harbor that much anger at 1 in the morning, immediately surrendering and muttering apologies to become quieter as the nights go by. 

All’s well that ends well, it seems.

Now they’re all here, enjoying dinner. Baku was speaking with his mouth full about how he was confident Eunjang was going to win the next round, Suho laughing at his delusions and Hyuntak calling his bluff. Sieun sits by the sidelines and silently eats away at the soft boiled meat, and Juntae scoots over, grabbing vegetables and placing them into Sieun’s bowl in a gesture of care. 

The pot sat in the middle of the five of them, boiling water on a low setting. Bubbles rush up to the surface, before bursting and flowing in the sweet aroma of soup. Hyuntak had made a vegetable broth, delicately adding different types of vegetables and brewed it with salt and pepper. He was a much better cook than any of them gave him credit for, and thank the heavens for that because the only two people who knew how to cook in this group without burning the kitchen down would be Hyuntak and Juntae.

Their phones were piled up on the other end of the table, away from the pot but still in eyeshot. Laughter crowded the room and there was no need to kill time on their phones during rare and intrinsic moments like these.

But then one of them lights up.

[@gsxxxje]

hey eunjang ;)

like what you see?

Juntae stares at his phone for a second, his apprehension crawling back once he realized everyone at the table were all reading the same two messages as he was. He quickly snags his phone up to avoid further suspicion and laughs nervously before hiding it behind his back. “I-Ignore that, please…”

Baku stops mid-chew, eyes narrowing in on Juntae. “Who was that?”

Juntae could feel him staring daggers into his soul. “Nobody! Just someone I’m talking to! You know, this vegetable broth is amazing, Tak-ah, I really like how you—“

“Geum Seongje?” Suho spurts out, and Juntae whips his head around faster than it could give you whiplash. He realized his phone was no longer behind his back—Suho’s quick hands probably got to it before he realized.

“Wait!” Juntae says, reaching for the device, but Baku is yanking him back on his shirt collar. 

“Show me,” Baku says, his eyes suddenly turning serious. Suho turns the phone screen over to an Instagram chatlog where the profile picture is undeniably Geum Seongje himself.

He’s exposed.

“How could you?” Baku says, his hand over heart in an elaborate gesture, his tone riddled with betrayal. “He’s our rival! Are you in cahoots with Geum Seongje?”

“What?!” Juntae is astonished by Baku’s sudden insinuation, “No! I just accidentally liked his picture and he’s clearly being a jackass about it!”

“Did I mention that he drooled over him today?”

“Sieun!”

“You drooled over Geum Seongje?” Suho interjected in surprise. “Damn, you’re telling me he gets ladies AND guys…”

“Are you jealous, Suho?” Hyuntak jests, pointing his chopsticks at the man and laughing. Suho narrows his eyes threateningly before pulling Sieun closer to him, and planting a kiss on his cheek, evidently surprising the introvert by how his eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“Why would I be jealous when I have the love of my life right here?” Suho responds, wiggling his eyebrows and suddenly Juntae doesn’t feel so bad about Seongje anymore.

“Quiet!” Baku shouts, commanding the room in an instant. He was the captain of the basketball team after all, so this sudden show of domination wasn’t shocking. “That’s enough. Geum Seongje already texted him back. Shouldn’t we let Juntae respond?”

Damn, that was a good point. But the question becomes: how should he respond? Should he entertain him and play along? Or should he just apologize profusely for his mistake and try and pretend this all never happened? He’s already been caught red handed, so what else did he have to lose?

Suho hands him back his phone and Juntae is petrified. He holds the device in his hands as if it is a foreign object, something he wasn’t accustomed to using. He forces his fingers to type something—anything to make the conversation continue.

[@seojuntae]

i’m sorry >.< i didn’t mean to like your picture! please ignore it!!

He hopes that would suffice. 

It doesn’t.

[@gsxxxje]

ah, eunjang, you amuse me…

i’ll just cut straight to the chase

wanna try your luck in dating the heartbreak prince?

Gasps can be heard all around the room. Juntae blinks away from his phone for a second and takes in his surroundings, seeing all four men gathered on the floor—Hyuntak with his hands on Baku’s shoulder trying to peek at the small phone screen on his left, Suho and Sieun kneeling to his right blinking in suspense. He lets out a tired sigh. It’s honestly downright embarrassing having your friends watch you talk to your crush. 

That wasn’t his main concern though. Geum Seongje, the man who dated so many girls from Yeo-il, more than he could count on one finger was asking him out? Does this mean…?

[@seojuntae]

but i’m a guy!

isn’t that weird to you?!

[@gsxxxje]

ah, you should know…

that i go both ways

Fuck, that’s hot.

Juntae makes sure that he isn’t drooling over him for the second time today, a careful hand coming up to cover his mouth. He lets out a breath of contemplation before deciding to type something out:

[@seojuntae]

[draft] uh…sure…?

“YOU CAN’T SEND THAT!”

Juntae gasps when he feels his phone getting violently yanked away from the man beside him, and his eyes shift to see Hyuntak holding the phone high above everyone’s heads, standing tall and firm.

“Tak-ah!” 

“Geum Seongje is a player! You know they call him the heartbreak prince for a reason, right? He dated my sister’s friend and broke her heart in less than a month!”

“I know that! But I like him, Tak-ah, and he’s the one asking me out!”

“Wait, guys…”

All eyes are on Baku now.

“I just had an Einstein moment,” he snaps at Juntae. “You want to get in his pants, don’t you?”

Juntae burrows his head in his hands. “Can you stop making it sound so goddamn embarrassing, Baku, please!” 

“Then you should go on a date with him! Just don’t get too attached.”

Hyuntak furrows his brows in confusion. “Yah, what do we get by sending Juntae straight to the wolf’s den? It’s like a farmer sacrificing one of his lambs for no reason!”

“The basketball gameplan.”

The room falls silent, before Hyuntak opens his mouth and matches Baku’s energy with a clap. “You’re a genius, Park Humin!”

“...What?” Juntae was confused. Not just confused, utterly bewildered. He looks over to Sieun who shares the same puzzled look on his face. 

“I don’t know if Seongje was the one who thinks of the gameplans, maybe Hwangmo helps him,” Baku closes his eyes, his grin widening. “But if we get our hands on that, it could change everything! We know how to counteract their defenses.” 

Suho cracks his neck before nodding. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. We might be able to get it before the next round?”

“Depends on how fast Juntae gets in his pants.”

Juntae feels the heat creep up on his cheeks again after the mention of that, but he drops it. “So you guys want me to date him to get…a basketball plan?”

A jingle on his phone cuts through the confusion. Hyuntak solemnly looks through the texts before handing back Juntae his phone, grumbling when he reads the barrage of messages.

[@gsxxxje]

well eunjang? are you down or not, hm?

i’ve been waiting for a response…

He bites his lip, before bringing his hands together to type up a reply.

[@seojuntae]

i’ll take you up on your offer, geum seongje.

where should we go?

[@gsxxxje]

now that’s what i like to hear

the new amusement park in downtown seoul

this weekend

be ready ;) 

Chapter Text

Noisy. 

That's the word Juntae would use to describe this newly built amusement park near the Han River. Children from all stages of life are vibrant and energetic in their youth, screaming and screeching in pitches that would rival dolphins in a hot summer day where the sun is beating down on him is not an ideal date. A group of teenagers around their age brush past Juntae and beelines straight for the rollercoaster, adding onto the piling queues that would take hours to clear out. 

"Wow," Baku boasts, staring at the sky-high ferris wheel, the obvious main attraction. "Can you imagine taking a stroll with a pretty lady from Yeo-il here?"

"You're one to talk," Hyuntak laughs, clutching his stomach. "You can't get any of those girls to look at you if you tried."

There’s some truth to that. Not to attest Baku’s handsome looks, but Yeo-il is renowned as the most elite and wealthiest school in Seoul, where only the richest of the kids could attend. It’s leagues above boarding schools like Eunjang and Ganghak, which meant the girls there were not only really pretty, you needed to treat them to nice dinners, too. They probably wouldn’t bat an eye at the man who had flaming red hair and tiger boxers.

"What?! I told you so many girls are in my DMs asking me to take them out on a date. You just doubt me too much, Gogo."

"I don't doubt you, I call out your delusions. You're delusional!"

Baku raises his fist to punch Hyuntak in retaliation, but he dodges it in time before pouncing back. The two slap at each other for a few seconds before Sieun finally saves the day with the ruffle of a bag, cutting through the loud noise of the park and catching their attention like a cats enamored by lasers on the wall.  

"What did you make me bring, Humin-ie?" Sieun asks, annoyed. 

"Oh!" Baku exclaims, making grabby hands towards the backpack. "This is the Seo Juntae protection squad equipment!"

Sieun and Juntae blink in complete and utter disbelief. Hyuntak lets out a tired groan from all the dramatics and wraps his arm around Baku's shoulder before explaining what the hell that meant.

"I saw him ordering something online a few days ago. And you know how Eunjang has like these weird policies where they check what you bring into the dorms? He snuck out at 1 in the morning to retrieve it from that delivery guy himself. Whatever it is, it must be top secret."

"What?" Juntae gasps. "Baku, did you buy me a gun or something?!"

"No, no," Baku sighs, "Here, let me show you..."

He unzips the backpack to reveal a plethora of items. Walkie-talkies, microphones, and multiple pairs of binoculars all stocked up alongside a change of clothes. 

Hyuntak was the first one to raise his voice in objection. "What the fuck is all of this?"

Humin puts his hands up. "Listen! Geum Seongje is a vicious playboy! I'd say we monitor their first date so that he doesn't dare try to harm our Juntae!"

His hands move down to fish for a listening device, small as a grain of rice. "We can stick this behind Juntae's Eunjang necklace, so that we can hear everything that Geum Seongje is saying! Also," he cuts himself off, holding up a walkie-talkie. "He can even radio us if he needs any help!"

Juntae doesn't even know where to start. “Baku…I’m not sure if this is how first dates usually go…”

“Hey, I'm just being protective...” he defends. 

Sieun picks one of the walkie-talkies up in his hand and rubs a thumb through the material, attempting to press the same button to turn it on for usage. He somewhat expected it to work, but what he didn't expect was for the device to give up on itself, sending an ear-shattering piercing beep loud enough to even bother the group beside them. 

"Where..." Sieun says, still wincing at the noise. "Where did you buy this, Huminie?"

“Ah, I don’t know,” Baku mutters, scratching his head as if he was trying to remember. “What was the app again? Tea-something?”

“…You bought these on Temu?”

“Yeah! It was really cheap too, I’d say I’m proud of myself for snagging such a deal.”

Sieun and Juntae watch as Hyuntak is trying to stifle his laugh, and he successfully does, because when Humin throws his head back and glares at him, he whistles away in innocence. 

"I can't deal with this," Sieun finally mutters, blinking away the reality of the situation. "I should've went to help Suho with his shifts today."

"Okay, we get it loverboy," Baku rolls his eyes.

They're all interrupted by a sudden commotion happening within the amusement park, evident by the way two male voices were yelling at each other. 

"Sir, you can't smoke in here!"

"Who says I can't?!"

"Me! Or else I will have to ban you from the park itself! Please, just go smoke outside the entrance..."

Hyuntak gasps when he sees Seongje making their way over to them. He signals for Baku to grab Sieun and bolt the fuck out of there before he catches them, and Sieun is unwillingly whisked away by strong hands and an emotionless expression. 

Juntae watches as all of his friends leave him in the dark, cursing them for even coming. 

"Ah, Eunjang!" Seongje's deep voice cuts through the noisy flare. "Is that you?"

God fucking damnit, he looks so much more handsome in person. 

"Uh," Juntae mutters, staring up at the man who's looking down at him, the height difference staggering. "Yeah, I'm Eunjang."

Seongje blinks. "Huh?"

"Oh—" Juntae cuts himself off, smacking his head for the mistake. "I meant I'm from Eunjang, my name is Seo Juntae..."

Seongje throws his head back in laughter. The cigarette in his hand was forgotten about, but still firmly gripped in between fingers in tenderness and care, lest he wastes it perfectly unlit. 

"You're cute. You're like a puppy."

Juntae furrows his brows. "A puppy?"

"Yeah," Seongje says, shaking his hand with the cigarette in contemplation. "You'd be one of those...what do they call 'em? Maltese?"

Juntae feels the heat rise up to his cheeks after that insinuation. "I'm nothing like a Maltese!"

Seongje perks his lips up to another grin, a laugh threatening to slip out. "I'm going to call you puppy from now on. Come on, pup."

He interlocks his fingers with Juntae's hand—yes, the first minute within the first date—and leads him into the crowd of children, teenagers, and adults alike trying to enjoy their time at the newly opened amusement park. Juntae brushes past a group of kids, shooting darts and popping a bunch of balloons for a ginormous teddy bear. 

Juntae pushes up his glasses after Seongje lets go of his wrist, seeing the massive teddy bear propped up as a prized trophy to be won. ‘Shoot all the balloons in one go for the ultimate prize!’ was written in massive bold letters above the booth center. 

“I bet you I’ll win the biggest prize yet.”

Juntae grumbles. “I’m sure you will…you have enough practice with the girls you bought to these kinds of things,” he replies with a scoff.

“You underestimate how hard it is. Watch me work my magic, puppy,” Seongje grins, cracking his knuckles. Juntae sees the same look in his eyes when he would be on the basketball court—that glint of excitement that can’t be translated through language.

He watches in utter amazement as Seongje walks up to the booth, sparing a few words to the vendor before grabbing a couple of darts and taking his position. He looks as if he was in his element.

”Jun…” a static voice cuts through, “Juntae?”

He digs in his pockets and retrieves the walkie-talkie in a haze. “Yes, Baku?”

”Is he getting you that giant teddy bear?!”

”Apparently so…wait, where are you?!”

Juntae turns around in a hurry, almost as if he was trying to scan the area for his friends. In the midst of the crowd, he found none other than Humin, Hyuntak and Sieun huddled together behind a tree. As if that would camouflage any one of them, let alone three.

”Ooh!” Hyuntak exclaims now through the walkie-talkie, “He’s actually popping all the balloons!”

He turns back around to look at Seongje, who has popped almost every balloon in sight, the remaining red, pink and yellow balloons lined up in three remaining targets for him to conquer. His lips curl up in a devilish manner before he aims with intense precision and pops all of them in three shots—the red popping first, then pink, then finally yellow.

There’s a whistle in the air and a crowd has gathered at this point, a pair of siblings roaring once he popped the yellow balloon in victory amongst other people in the crowd who was watching Geum Seongje not only dominate in basketball but also in air shooting.

“What’s your name?” the commentator asks, and Seongje runs his fingers through his silky smooth hair before responding. Juntae swears he could hear girls screeching after that.

”Geum Seongje,” he laughs, “And I’m winning this teddy bear for someone cute and adorable. A maltese, if you will.”

There’s a shock gasp coming from the walkie-talkie. Juntae’s eyes widen when he realizes what was happening. 

“Can you tell us who it is?”

Seongje gives another one of his toothy grins before pointing towards Juntae’s direction. He hurriedly shoves the walkie-talkie back in his pockets and laughs uncomfortably, when all eyes are directed at him.

”Uh…” Juntae gives an awkward smile when all eyes are on him. 

“That’s his boyfriend?!”

“Shit, I would’ve pegged him as a straight dude, not going to lie…”

“Oh my god! His boyfriend is sooo cute!”

“Right? Are all the good men lost to the other good men in this world? How cruel!”

Juntae could practically feel his cheeks turning crimson red at this point, because he sees Seongje pick up the ginormous teddy bear half his size with utmost ease, putting the poor stuffed animal in a headlock, the veins on his arms popping out in definition when he walks over with the gigantic teddy bear in hand. “For you, puppy.”

Screeches echo through the amusement park and Juntae himself couldn’t believe his luck bought him Geum Seongje of all people as a person for his first date. He couldn’t even hold up the teddy bear because of its weight when Seongje finally hands it to him, and he smiles before picking it back up off his hands. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to, love,” Seongje replies, reaching out for Juntae’s hand once again and off they go to another area of the amusement park. He wonders how Seongje already looked as if he knew all the stops he needed to take as if this wasn’t a brand new amusement park that just opened a few days ago. 

“Where should we go next?” Seongje questions. “I’ll let you choose whatever you want to do, if you agree to let me choose whatever I want next.”

“The ferris wheel,” Juntae mutters quietly. “I heard it’s the biggest in Seoul, takes you to the highest of heights overlooking the Han River. I…haven’t been on one myself.”

“Ah, so you like sightseeing…”

He appears to make a mental note of that, something for a keepsake later to be visited later on. Seongje makes a sharp left, still gently dragging Juntae around, this time to a massive line formed outside the big ferris wheel. The construction of the attraction was massive beyond doubt, a sparkling wonder in the midst of Seoul. He watches as couples enter and exit, shoving into a crowded and enclosed space, and he dreads having to be cramped during such a romantic time like this, but it would have to suffice. 

The view is beautiful today. Clear skies, clouds dancing in the sun, not a single speck of grey. Summer had always been a wonderful time to enjoy romantic dates such as these, but luck had a massive factor in it too. They take their queue, and Seongje asks for them to hold their teddy bear until he could come and retrieve it after he was done. 

But it was grueling. Blue in the air and bright sun meant hot weather. And oh boy, was Seo Juntae feeling the sweat pooling underneath his clothing, and he dreads having to wait until the other boys at his floor have to finish showering before he could even have a turn. Seongje shakes him out of his thoughts when he wraps his arm around his body and ruffles his hair. 

“This line is pretty long, isn’t it?” Seongje chuckles. 

“Yeah…I’m sweating bullets over here,” Juntae replies in a soft tone, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

“What if I told you I had a way to the very front of the line? You just have to give me something in return.”

Juntae processes what Seongje is insinuating. “What do I have to do…?”

“Give me a peck on the cheek?”

Woah. Aren’t we moving a little too fast?

“How am I sure that you can even get to the front of the line? You’re bluffing.”

“Playing hard to get, I see…”

Juntae tries not to think about Seongje, despite the man having his arms around him. The small details don’t slip him by, the gentle yet firm grip on his shoulder, the bustling veins coursing through his hand, the way his thumb circles around his shoulder. Juntae can’t believe the man he drooled over is this close to him, this touchy-feely already on the first date.

A short-cut ticket comes into view. On it stamps, “CUT THE LINE FOR AN EXCLUSIVE TASTE OF SEOUL!” written in bold red letters and Juntae once again, blinks in surprise. 

“You weren’t bluffing?”

“Of course not,” Seongje grins. “So about that kiss?”

Juntae weighed his options. He didn’t really want to sweat out here waiting for the line to clear, which would probably take an hour at this rate, so he just closes his eyes and gives Seongje a little peck once he leans down for easier access for the shorter boy. 

He has that grin again, something that is so irritating to Juntae yet so alluring. Juntae looks away once he pulls away from the peck, and Seongje lets out a chuckle of relief.

“You’re so fun to tease, puppy,” Seongje smiles, holding up the ticket in his hands and exiting the line. Juntae follows suit, and sooner or later, they find themselves in front of the line—ignoring the shocked and hurt shouts of the people queuing for hours of standing on their feet.

Luckily, the cabin this time around had two other couples in addition to them, so they won’t be too crowded. The operators open up the doors to the cabin and Juntae and Seongje reserve the seat on the edge, making sure they have extra room without crowding the other couple beside them.

The small cabin floats up into the sky as the amusement park fades out of view beneath them. By the midpoint, it had already looked as if they could oversee the entire place and most of the Han River. It was a magnificent sight, and Juntae marveled at it, his hands pressed on the glass looking at the skyline in awe. Seongje stares at Juntae’s back, his little puffy cheeks poking out even from his point of view. He truly is adorable.

“It’s my first time on a ferris wheel,” Juntae mutters, his breath fogging up the glass. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like this high up in the sky, with Seoul under me.” 

“Well,” Seongje chuckles, hands in his pockets. “Now you know.”

Juntae feels like a child. His eyes twinkle at how small the world looks from up here, how the people running around down at the amusement park were enjoying their time. Parents warily looking over their children on one side of the park to a group of teenagers riding a roller coaster, wind wooshing and screams echo through the skies and even travelling into their cabin. Apart from the amusement park, he looks onto the Han River, where couples and friends alike are sitting on the patch of grass watching the scenic overview of the beautiful shimmering waters with food in their stomachs. Cruises on the river also glisten with lights flashing in his direction. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Juntae smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

It doesn’t take long for the ferris wheel to complete its cycle. Juntae grumbles when he finally touches ground again, but he allows himself to get whisked away by Seongje’s firm hands on his back, hands guarding his head lest he bumped his head onto the small cabin exit. They walk a small distance away from the crowd of the ferris wheel, enough to regain some breathing room before discussing what to do next. 

Humin, Hyuntak and—at this point is Sieun even with them?—watches as they exit the ferris wheel, Seongje trailing behind him. 

“Damn it,” Baku curses in whispers, as girls stop by looking at the three of them crouched behind the barricade. “He’s a good one. Look at how he’s basically following Juntae around!”

“You know,” Hyuntak says, pushing against Baku’s shoulder to get a closer view through his binoculars. “I feel like the whole reason you’re doing this is because you want dating tips on how to treat girls.”

“What? No! I would never! This is all love and care for our Juntae!”

A pause. 

“He’s absolutely trying to study Geum Seongje’s tactics,” Sieun’s soft voice interjects and Baku rips away from his binoculars to give him a traitorous glare. 

“You see! Even Sieun agrees with me,” Hyuntak laughs, before he gets tackled onto the ground by tough hands and a furious red-head anger. 

Sieun doesn’t even concern himself with the commotion beside him, seeing Seongje and Juntae make their way to another zone in the amusement park. He places the binoculars in the backpack and zips it up. “Whenever you guys are done with your bickering, you can follow me,” he says, walking away as the two wrestle in broad daylight in front of hundreds of people. 

—

“Where are we going now?” Juntae questions. It seemed like they had been walking for ages, and he makes sure to keep an eye out for his friends. So far, he sees Sieun following his every move, although he doesn't know where the other two went. Seongje hums as he drags Juntae along, until a person slams into Seongje's shoulder.

“Yah! Watch where you’re—”

Juntae and Seongje turn around to see a tall and slender man, dressed head to toe in uniform, shades of flickering silver and gray. Anyone in Seoul could tell you those colors belonged only to a certain kind of elite—namely the colors of a student from Yeo-il. His eyes look as if they could pierce your soul, and Juntae feels himself shrink behind Seongje when they interlock eyes.

“Na Baekjin,” Seongje grins, and Juntae blinks in surprise seeing his Ganghak date knows this stranger. “You have some nerve popping up around here.”

“I was just coming over here from tutoring. Glad to see you’ve moved on?”

Juntae practically flutters his eyes. “What?!"

“…What?!” Sieun whispers from afar, hearing the commotion. He’s as stunned as Juntae, and goodness, is Humin and Hyuntak missing out on this juicy lore. 

“We dated before,” Baekjin says, his gaze unwavering. “I’m guessing you’re the next victim to fall for his charm.”

“Ah, you’re still jealous I dumped you?” Seongje jests. “You really can’t get over me, hm?”

“I have no reason to be envious of a man who cannot keep a relationship to save his life,” Baekjin answers, speaking his truth.

Sieun hears footsteps creeping up on him and he finally pries his eyes away from his binoculars, just as Baekjin and Seongje were staring each other down intensely. 

“Who’s that?” Hyuntak says, straining his eyes through the binoculars and trying to get a closer look at the man in grey.

“He’s from Yeo-il,” Sieun replies softly.

He darts his eyes up to look at the two men. Hyuntak marvels at Na Baekjin, meanwhile…Humin’s reactions were bizarre. Sieun stares as Humin’s eyes wobble slightly, lips parting in surprise when graced with this stranger’s presence. It wasn’t normally how Baku would react to a situation like this, and it struck him as odd.  

Baekjin darts his gaze over to his right, where he sees the three boys were observing them intently. Hyuntak curses and takes cover behind the bush Sieun was hiding behind, but Humin just stares ahead, unmoving, his doe eyes mirroring Baekjin’s eyes—sharp and cold.

“I got what I came for,” Baekjin replies, ripping away from Baku’s gaze. “Have fun, Seongje. And good luck to you, little Eunjang.”

Seongje’s grip on Juntae doesn’t loosen when Baekjin takes his leave, like a looming presence threatening the very existence of their love. He checks up on the little puppy, who doesn’t really know how to react himself. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Seongje mutters. “Exes, you know?”

“Not really,” Juntae chuckles. He’s been single his whole life, but dating a man who was, for lack of better word—ran through—has its strengths and weaknesses. Juntae doesn’t even want to imagine how many dirty looks he’s going to get when he walks through Yeo-il now. Was it wise to date someone like Geum Seongje as your first?

“Anyway,” Seongje blew through the awkward atmosphere that Baekjin had made. “We’re almost there."

Juntae's mouth falls open when he sees the very thing that shakes him to his core.

A haunted attraction. 

Nervous chuckles fill the space between them. "Seongje, maybe we should, uh, find something else to do here? I'd love the roller coaster!"

"Ah-ah," Seongje reminds him, "You picked the ferris wheel. Now it's my turn to pick, and this is what we're doing." 

He moves his hands in his pockets, tapping the radio button in a frenzy. He prays that Baku would come in and swoop him from Seongje—because isn’t that the whole point of this stalking and watching?!

Juntae’s darkest fears come true when the walkie-talkie practically crumbles in his pockets. He feels the batteries falling out and the entire construction of the device faltering in his pants. He grits his teeth in surrender, accepting there was no way for him to escape the haunted attraction.

“I promise it’ll be fun.”

—

It isn’t fun.

Juntae doesn’t know how many he has screamed in sheer terror when a creepy zombie would crawl up on him, or the amount of brains and guts littered on the floors matching the pools of blood. He swears he will never be the same when he feels one of the zombies claw at his feet.

“Let me go, please!” Juntae practically begs. His grip is firm, knuckles deep into the fabric of Seongje’s shirt. 

“Ah, puppy,” Seongje groans. “If you grab onto my shirt any tighter, it might actually rip.”

“I’m sorry!” Juntae exclaims as a group of zombies come out of their tombs. “I’m just really scared..."

Seongje realizes in that moment how frightened Juntae was in fact, not built for this at all. He sighs before leading the poor boy to the exit, hands still clawing at Seongje's clothing. 

“Here,” Seongje offers once they reach the exit. “We’re out—“

Juntae must’ve had a fright, because he practically faints after escaping from the endless pouring of fake blood in a darkened room into broad daylight. Seongje catches him just in time, his hands on his head and other arm making sure that he doesn’t fall.

“Fuck,” Seongje mutters. “I didn’t know people still faint from this shit…”

He props up Juntae’s body on his back, before lifting him up, hands underneath his thighs, his head resting on Seongje’s right shoulder. He grins as he stalks to the exit of the amusement park altogether, satisfied. 

—

When Juntae awakes again, he’s back in his dorm room. His eyes are still stinging from fear, but he turns to his right and sees Sieun doing his homework, propping himself up on that massive white teddy bear Seongje had bought for him.

“How…” Juntae starts in a daze. “How did I get back here, Sieun?”

“Ah, you’re awake,” Sieun replies, deadpan, “Geum Seongje carried you all the way from the amusement park.”

Juntae could not believe his ears. “He carried me all the way from there to here?!”

“Yep,” Sieun replies, scrubbing his previous answer with a pencil eraser before contemplating the answer. “It was quite romantic. Several of the kids at Eunjang saw you get carried by prince charming all the way to your room.”

Juntae winces at the thought. He sits up in a rush, feeling for his phone on the bed. He needed to text Seongje back and thank him for carrying him home. Once he finally figures out where it was, he immediately unlocked it and went to his messages, drafting up a heartfelt thank you:

 [@seojuntae]

ah, seongje-ya

thank you for carrying me to my dorm

i’m so sorry i passed out and for troubling you ><

 [@gsxxxje]

good evening, puppy! miss me already? aww…

i must say that teddy bear is adorable. i’ll even let you name him

as for the payment of me carrying you home…we can talk about that later ;)

Chapter Text

“He’s been on that phone for hours…”

The three boys stare at Juntae, who is giggling in the corner typing up walls of text while reading some of his own. He’s sitting propped up by the giant teddy bear that Seongje had won him that day, its soft furry and flimsy arms wrapped around Juntae’s collarbone as if it's a makeshift hug. 

“I still can’t believe Juntae of all people found love faster than me,” Hyuntak groans, sprawled out on their dorm room floor. His arms and legs graciously move up and down as if he’s making a snow angel on hardwood floors, and whether this action was out of frustration or boredom, Sieun couldn’t tell. 

“Maybe you should try your luck elsewhere, Gogo,” Baku replies, shoving a handful of potato chips into his mouth. He eats like a damn animal, and the crumbs are falling down his face but his eyes remain fixated on his best friend making a snow angel out of the dust on the floor. “I think the girls at Buil will like you.”

Buil, the famous all girls’ boarding school set just in the middle of Ganghak and Eunjang. It’s the hotspot place for both of these schools with budding young men trying to find love in their teenage years, but most of them aren’t impressed. Juntae could count on one hand how many classmates he knows actually succeeded in dating any girl from Buil. 

“I told you! I texted that girl on Instagram a few days ago and she left me on read!”

Sieun blinks, intrigued. “Who did you text on Instagram?”

Hyuntak grumbles, stopping his robotic movements and sits up with a loud grunt, reaching for his cellphone. “She’s really pretty too,” he interjects between navigating through the countless applications. “I wanted to take her out on a date.”

Sieun and Baku lean on over to squint at the small phone screen when Hyuntak eventually turns it over to a chatlog. He has a tight death grip on his phone, knowing damn well Baku’s clumsy hands could press on anything that would alert the girl. 

“I mean she’s certainly someone you’d go after,” Baku replies, leaning back and shoving another potato chip in his mouth.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Hyuntak…” Sieun suddenly speaks. “But I know her.”

“You do?!” Hyuntak sits up, clasping his hands together. “Please, Sieun, you gotta hook me up with her, she’s totally my type—

“She’s gay.”

Baku lets out a boisterous laugh, before choking on the savory salted chips and ending up in a coughing fit. Hyuntak rolls his eyes, throwing the empty convenience store plastic bag at his face for even laughing at his misfortune in finding love.

“She’s Yeongyi’s girlfriend…” Sieun trails off, as if he was remembering the concept of Yeongyi in general. “A close friend of mine. She used to live with Suho but now she attends Buil.”

“Am I living in a world where gay is the norm and being straight is the minority?!” Hyuntak exclaims, glaring at Juntae lets out another giggle, probably the hundredth in the past hour or so.

“Hold on, you told me you like that guy on the taekwondo team in middle scho—

“Stop airing out my fucking business, Park Humin!”

“Oh!” 

The three boys hear Juntae exclaim from the corner of the room, all three pairs of eyes fixated on him now. He grumbles when he moves away the arms of his teddy bear and pounces on his bed to retrieve his bedside charger but it was no use. His phone is now pitch black, devoid of battery power and cut off from any connection that could be made to Geum Seongje. 

“Ah, I should’ve been faster…” he groans.

“You’ve been on that damn phone for hours, Jun-ah!” Hyuntak wails. “Have you forgotten about us?”

“Look at him,” Baku scoffs, crossing his arms. “He’s fallen head over heels for Geum Seongje.”

Juntae flushes. “I’m not that in love with him…”

“We should change tactics,” Hyuntak sighs. “At this rate, he’s actually going to get his heart broken by Geum Seongje and when he breaks up he’ll be scarred for life.”

“Hey!” Juntae objects. “He treats me really nice, first of all!”

“He treats everyone that way!” Baku exclaims. “Then he gets really bored with you by next week and then he’s going to find a new plaything to toy with!”

Juntae blinks. “Would he…really?”

“He would!” 

The boy doesn’t even look up before grabbing his laundry basket filled with him and Sieun’s clothing. “Whatever…I’m going to the laundry room.”

Hyuntak watches as Juntae leaves in a hurry. “I’m actually quite worried now…I know we told him to go for it but he seems like he’s in love with this guy.”

“Don’t be,” Sieun sighs. "Let him fall in love. He deserves to be happy and in love before the inevitable heartbreak."

—

“Shit,” Seongje mutters, locking his phone and lying back down on the pillows. “I think my little puppy’s phone battery is dead.”

“You seem to be having too much fun with this one,” Hwangmo replies.

“What do you mean by that?” Seongje glares at his roommate, phone discarded and forgotten somewhere on his bed. 

Hwangmo scoffs. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Whenever you get into a new relationship you’d leave these girls on read for hours before giving a reply. You’re not using your fuckboy antics on this one.”

“You’re thinking too much.”

He wasn’t. If anybody was close enough to Geum Seongje to watch him go through the motions of picking up a love interest, dating them for a few weeks—or in some cases, days—and either end it off by ghosting them or blocking them like they never existed, it was his roommate Ju Hwangmo. He had seen it all, and although he can’t explain why out of all the people Geum Seongje would pick an Eunjang kid, which was not only a rival school but considered enemy territory. Most Ganghak and Eunjang kids loathe each other, snarling insults and middle fingers and sometimes even escalating to fights when in uniform. 

So the heartbreak prince of Ganghak should know better than to court the lonely shy princess of Eunjang. It should be off-limits, and the only reason why the kids at Ganghak haven’t raised hell over it is because Seongje is worshipped and lauded for bringing honor to their name through their basketball team and hasn’t lost once. It was purely a manner of loyalty, but what happens when you lose? What happens when you don’t perform what’s expected of you on the court? 

“I’m going out for a walk,” Seongje says, rising from his bed and stretching out his limbs. “I gotta get my mind off this.”

“Get back before 7,” Hwangmo comments. “Coach wants us all to practice for the upcoming game.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seongje shoos him away with his left, fiddling with the doorknob with his right. “I’ll be back.”

There’s a route he takes everyday that leads him to the pond behind his school, where Seongje gets away from the mob of girls stalking him from Buil or Yeo-il, or away from the gawking masses of Ganghak kids crowding all over him. It’s a fifteen minute walk—a short distance to a place that you consider your sanctuary.

He sits by the pondside, both hands mangled in a patch of grass beside him in fervent shades of greenery. He leans back onto the grass and stares at the ducklings swimming peacefully amongst the shiny reflection on the seamless surface of water. The sun is setting now, with the sky turning a tinge of orange, enveloping his body in a glow of warmth. 

Seongje has never told anyone about this place. Hwangmo has a semblance of what it is, but he doesn’t know the exact location or where he goes. This place was his safe haven, one that can’t be breached by anyone else except himself. He sticks a cigarette in between his teeth and fishes out a lighter, ignition clicks sounding disturbances in the serene air alerting the ducklings to swim away from his direction. He stares out into the stream, smoke billowing from his lips wondering when he started to like this Eunjang kid so damn much.

Was it the way he smiled? Was it the way he shies away from his touch whenever he gets flustered? Was it the way that Seo Juntae had that innocent flair of a budding young boy in love, that no one had tainted him yet, and that Geum Seongje would be the very first? 

No, it was more than that.

He’s an Eunjang kid dating a Ganghak kid. Sworn enemies, opposing teams, but even worse was his reputation preceding him. Juntae would’ve heard all the rumors over how much of a serial heartbreak he was, how he would never be satisfied with one girl and move on to the next, yet he chose to dive into this in full force not caring about the consequences about his actions.

To think about it, he has Juntae wrapped around his finger. He could break his heart in one go, save him the disparity of building more memories together, those that never fade with your first love. He’s playing a very dangerous game with Seo Juntae’s heart, and he’s making sure he doesn’t get a game over screen before he could finish playing through the entirety. 

He takes another drag of his cigarette, and this time, he allows for the smoke to linger in his mouth for a few seconds before giving a final blow to expel it from his system. When he finished thinking about his little love story with Eunjang’s princess, the sun had already disappeared over the horizon, leaving behind a dull grey sky peppered with clouds that no longer gleamed in the sunlight. He sighs before stubbing his third cigarette by the pond, stomping it out on the furrowed grass underneath the soles of his feet. 

Step by step, he finds his feet moving again. His hands are in the pockets of his uniform, his mind racing for another hit of dopamine. Everything in this town bores him. The monotonous routine of school, studying the same old messy notes, talking to the hundredth girl who had the same interests as the last, or the never-ending basketball drills and practice. It gets dull. The only thing that wasn’t was talking to a certain someone about his weird anime quirks and nerdy manga. 

His lips quirk up into a smile when a devious thought pops into mind, trudging through the dirt as it picks up onto the concrete. 

—

“Hey, that’s the kid that was all up on Geum Seongje at the amusement park right?”

“Yeah, that’s him alright. I can’t believe one of us would willingly date someone from Ganghak.”

Juntae shrivels up when he hears the ruthless gossip amongst the hallway. Were people already scrutinizing his relationship with Seongje already? He should’ve known better that there would be people who would have lots to say about his relationship, given it’s an unspoken taboo to associate yourself with anyone at Ganghak in general. 

But if he were honest with himself, he was just doing this to get the gameplans, right? Right? God, even he doesn’t believe that. He wants everything regarding Geum Seongje, to hold his hands when they’re out in public, staring up at his handsome face whenever he wears that smug grin on his face. He yearns to be close to him, to follow him wherever he goes like a little puppy being strung along for a ride by his owner. 

Was that too much of a sin? 

He quiets his thoughts when he enters the laundry room, watching as one of the students carries a basket of fresh clothing out the room, but not before giving him a wary glare. Juntae places down a basket of his own dirty outfits and tries his best to ignore the glares and whispers of Eunjang, throwing in a combination of his and Sieun’s clothing into the laundry machine before shutting it closed. 

“Ah, Juntae…” a voice echoes through the creak of the door. 

“Hyoman,” Juntae says, pressing the necessary buttons before turning around. “What do you want?” 

“Nothing, just amazed at how ballsy you are. You really dating Geum Seongje of all people? Have you forgotten your place?”

Juntae watches as Hyoman stalks up to him. He’s still bulky and taller than him, and the size difference makes Juntae shrivel up in surrender. He hates feeling like this. He thinks back to all the times Hyoman would tower over him whenever he’d beg for him to clean up the pile of garbage and he'd have to shut up in an instant, afraid that retaliating would escalate to something worse. 

Whenever he shares the same space with Hyoman again, he’s saddled with those uncomfortable feelings.

“I can date whoever I want,” Juntae says, voice shaking. “You can’t take that away from me.”

Hyoman is just mere inches away from Juntae now, his cocky gaze fixated on the boy’s neck. When he reaches out his hand, Juntae flinches, mistaking it for a punch across the face, but relaxes his muscles only by a little when his hands scoop up the pendant nestled in the dip of his collarbones. 

It’s a symbol of Eunjang. An honor to withhold, to adorn such an emblem that devoted yourself to your school. It came for free whenever you’d attend your first years at Eunjang, in the form of a link of interwoven metal rings like the necklace Juntae was wearing, the shiny and gaudy rings Hyoman slipped through his fingers, or a regal pin badge on a uniform like Baku pierces in his uniform. 

“You know they give these to us for a reason, right?” Hyoman laughs. “You’re supposed to be loyal to Eunjang. Fuck, I hate Baku’s dumbass and his stupid fucking lackey, but I still root for them on those bleachers like you do. But you’re here dating our enemy?”

Hyoman yanks the necklace and pulls Juntae closer as a threat, and he winces and turns his head away from the man’s horrendous breath. 

“How does Baku feel about this? Does he just let you date him with no consequences? What a fucking—

“Let him go.”

There’s an ear-shattering creak from the laundry door, where the two boys focus their attention on now, seeing a tall figure walking in. He shoves his hands in his pockets and gives a threatening glare which lingers on the firm grip wrapped around Juntae’s necklace. 

“Tak-ah…”

Hyoman lets go of his grip on Juntae, stumbling back, his eyes going from predator to prey in just a single flash. He raises his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t hurting him! Promise!”

“Get out.”

Choi Hyoman didn’t need to hear that twice. He practically speedwalks his way out the laundry room door and brushes past Hyuntak’s shoulder in a flush.

“Are you okay?”

“H-how did you know that he was…”

“I had a feeling,” Hyuntak replies. “Well, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the garden with me.”

Juntae chuckles. “I have to wait for the laundry to finish anyway. Let’s go.” 

—

A clocktower is connected to the main building of the Eunjang campus, where all students carry out their daily task of studying. When the sun eventually sets every single day, satiated by its time in the sky, it sets behind the tower, casting a soft shadow over the gardens at the front of the school. They are unattended nor cared for, and the greenery has faded into specs of brown wilting vessels of what used to be. 

Juntae and Hyuntak took it upon themselves to build the garden back up again, step by step, brick by brick. It won’t look as beautiful as before, as patches of dead grass and wilted flowers are littered all over the field, but they found a great starting spot. There existed a patch near the entrance of the school that was quite fertile and had signs of life. 

They both had chosen an assortment of flowers they believed would start the rebirth of this tragic landscape. 

Juntae had chosen marigolds—he associated it with how Hyuntak helped him through some of the toughest times, was always there as a good friend whenever he’d need a shoulder to lean on, and how he would shine of gold. Inversely, Hyuntak himself had chosen lavender—how calming they smelt, how they stood up tall even through rough times, even wading through thick and dry soil against all odds. It reminded him of how vigilant Juntae was everyday, braver than he looked even though people read him as pathetic and nerdy. 

“They are growing up quite well,” Juntae beams, crouching down to furrow the marigolds, intertwining his fingers with the golden flakes and petals. The batch of lavender stands right beside it, and Hyuntak admires them from a distance, crouching beside his friend. 

“I think we should drag Humin and Sieun here,” Hyuntak comments. “Make them decide what they want to plant. Sooner or later, this garden will be thriving again.” 

“That is, if no one comes out here to smoke while skipping class,” Juntae sighs. “They’re going to stomp the cigarette buds on the ground and ruin the flowers.” 

There’s a soft pause. The sky is turning grey, the orange glow no longer coating itself on the marigolds and lavenders. 

“You really like Geum Seongje huh?”

Juntae feels the heat creep up on his cheeks after the mention of his name. “Tak-ah, please…”

“We need to talk about it,” Hyuntak doesn’t relent. “I know Hyoman threatened you today because he doesn’t approve of your relationship with Seongje. No one at Eunjang does.” 

“Not even you?”

Hyuntak takes a deep breath. “I support whoever you love Jun-ah, I really do. But I’m worried…he’s not a good guy. He’ll break your heart like the countless others he’s done and you’re going to be crying day and night.”

“I know.”

Crickets chirp through the night sky. The lights at the front of the entrance flicker on automatically upon the darkness and Juntae stands back up again, Hyuntak following his lead.

“I’ve never been in love, Tak-ah. I’m scared but I want to know what it feels like. I want to know how it is in real life when someone loves you romantically.”

“Then you should know the consequences of dating him.”

“I do know. It’s already hard enough knowing he’s a serial heartbreak but why does he have to be against us too?”

Hyuntak surveys around to see if there were any teachers coming to yell at them for staying outside past sunset. “I heard whispers in the hallway. They’re calling you all sorts of names, saying you’re a traitor, how you should just transfer to Ganghak if you love him so fucking much.”

“I heard about them too,” Juntae replies, eyes downcast. “I don’t get it. It’s not their love life! I don’t judge them whenever they go on a date with some girl from Buil and sneak her into our dorms! But all of a sudden everyone has a problem with me dating Geum Seongje just because he’s from Ganghak?”

“You’re also forgetting Baku and I hate his guts?”

“I…” Juntae stammers. “I’m sorry. Maybe you’re right. I should just break it off.”

“You can’t. Gameplans, remember?”

“Why do you and Baku want those gameplans so bad, anyway?” he whines. 

Hyuntak shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, heels tipping upward. “Well, me and Humin really want to get to the finals, but I realize now that having your heart broken in all of this isn’t going to make it any better. We’d both feel really guilty if we left you for dead.” 

“So to cleanse yourself of the guilt, you’re here convincing me to let Seongje go…”

“If you want to,” Hyuntak shrugs and lets out a surrendering sigh. “But I have a feeling you’re in too deep.”

“I mean,” Juntae flushes with embarrassment. “Can I get in his pants first before I break up with him?”

“Alright,” Hyuntak turns on his heel, walking away from Juntae in disappointment. “Since you aren’t taking this conversation seriously, I’m going to go back and blast some basketball through that janky old television so Sieun could yell at you again.” 

“Tak-ah, wait!” Juntae wails as he follows him. “I’m sorry!” 

—

When Juntae returns to his dorm room heaping loads of fresh laundry in his hand, he’s greeted with the sight of Sieun sitting by his desk with a glowing lamp illuminating the table filled with papers in shades of yellow.

He’d always had this routine of studying at night that no one could break. Not even Suho. Screw the top student in Eunjang, he would be the top student anywhere—Ganghak, Hyeongshin, Daehyeon, maybe even Yeo-il, but he knows competition there is tight. Juntae wonders how different life would have been if Sieun actually transferred to Yeo-il like he originally was supposed to, before his mother put him in a boarding school to cut through his antisocial tendencies.

“You’re back already?”

“Mhm.”

“Your phone keeps blowing up. I think the heartbreak prince is ready to court his princess.” 

“Really?!” Juntae exclaims. He thought Seongje would just forget about him and move on with his night, but he practically drops the basket of laundry and rushes to his bed, frisking up his phone. 

Twelve messages. Seven photos and two videos. Three missed calls. 

“Damn,” Juntae mutters, before unlocking his phone, trying his best to reply to everything Seongje had sent. There are a plethora of photos from basketball practice, clearly trying his best to hide his phone from his coach yet beautifully taken. There’s one photo of one of his friends in the Ganghak jersey, his hair in a mullet and clearly annoyed Seongje was taking pictures of him. He recognizes him from the Ganghak v. Eunjang match a few days ago, someone he assumes is close to Seongje as a result. 

[@seojuntae]

glad you’re having fun ^^

are you back at the dorms yet?

[@gsxxxje] 

of course puppy i’m back in my bed. wish you were here beside me ;)

but oh where did you disappear to, hm? 

you deserve to tell me after being gone for hours, don’t you think?

[@seojuntae]

ahhhh, i’m so sorry seongje!

i just went to do some laundry

[@gsxxxje]

sounds boring

Juntae finds his fingers twitching with a confession threatening to fall onto his keyboard. 

[@seojuntae]

it wasn’t all that boring ^^

can i tell you something? and you promise me you won’t get mad?

[@/gsxxxje]

sure.

That wasn’t reassuring.

[@seojuntae]

i had this shitty old roommate…he threatened me today 

at the laundry room

he told me if i liked you so much i was betraying my own…

in fact, some of the students here don’t approve of me dating you, heh, but…

[@gsxxxje]

who is this?

[@seojuntae] 

hey you promised! to not get mad!

[@gsxxxje]

i’m not mad. just curious.

[@seojuntae]

you wouldn’t know him… his name is choi hyoman.

[@gsxxxje]

i’ll get to know him well enough, believe that. 

[@seojuntae]

…what do you mean by that? 

[@gsxxxje]

don’t worry about it puppy

i think i’ll go to sleep now

sweet dreams ;) even sweeter if you’re dreaming about me

night night

Chapter Text

Tuesday mornings were dreary when you hear light rain trickle down the windowpane. 

The alarm clock blares through the silence of the dewy morning sky, which startles the pair of small canaries who made a nest just outside their shared window. The birds are free, their wings outstretched like a spectacle in the sky, flaunting themselves as creatures that aren’t chained down by the monotonous routine of academic warfare. It is the very thing that Juntae detests about them.

He rubs his eyes when he hears a slam on the bedside table, before the blaring stops. Sieun lets out a soft groan before stretching out his limbs, flailing before he finally shifts out of bed. Juntae has his blankets pulled over his head in annoyance, not wanting the day to even start.

“Get up,” Sieun commands, his light steps resonating on the hardwood floors. “We need to get ready.”

“Don’t wanna,” Juntae shifts to his left, scooping up more of the blanket material. “Ten more minutes…”

Sieun deadpans in silence, like he usually does. He shuffles to another part of the room, which Juntae doesn’t pry; it’s none of his business for the next sixth of an hour. 

He dreamt of Seongje last night. How he came to Eunjang, how nobody around him judged him for being from Ganghak. Their love was natural, not ashamed, not judged, but accepted amongst the people. 

So when the blaring sound of an alarm clock stole that beautiful, now bygone dream, locked away in a hidden compartment in his unconsciousness, he was in a horrendous mood after waking up. In that one fruitful dream, he’d finally found his prince charming. He spent the rest of that sacred time trying to recall his memories—the good parts that coated his dreams in a sugary sweet high. The soft caress of his hand on Seongje’s calloused palms, toughened by years of basketball practice. Discussing mundane interests like how his favorite romantic anime series is about to end or how Seongje is ranked amongst one of the top players in Korea for one of his FPS games. 

But it really doesn’t take long before ten mere minutes are up. Sieun climbs a few steps up the bunk bed ladder to shake Juntae awake, and only then does he relent, finally moving the covers off his pretty little head and breathing the cozy fresh summer air. 

“Can you get me my glasses?” Juntae croaks. It is a question he asks every morning, knowing Sieun would get up earlier than him. It was a tradition between them both, and even if Juntae hadn’t asked, he’d find his glasses waiting by the tableside, neatly folded and proper in the classic Sieun-style. 

He dreads classes. It’s a full day of never-ending teaching, where the only students who seem to be paying attention are him and Sieun. Morning classes, especially, had a very vibrant and talkative teacher who was very strict about rules and regulations, the core weakness of an all boys' boarding school like Eunjang. There were countless times where teachers had ordered students to stop bickering and kneel outside the classroom as punishment, and the only people spared from this treatment is seemingly none other than the two roommates. 

Juntae hops down on the ladder, plopping his feet down with a small thump, like a bird taking a rest on the ground after soaring the skies. He pokes a peeking eye at Sieun’s direction as he gets dressed for their classes, admiring his physique. He had put on just a little bit more weight, probably from all the sacred rendezvous with Suho after school when he’d pick him up on his motorcycle, engine buzzing off into the sunset. He’d help with his shifts, and Suho feeds him generously for his efforts before he rushes back to the dorms before curfew, or so he’s heard through their calls. 

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to get dressed too?”

Juntae blinks out of his daze. “Oh…uh…sorry.”

'Happy weight', or so they call it. Or does Juntae want to be fed by Seongje? Would it be weird with everyone watching? How delicate would Seongje be whilst feeding him? 

He shakes away his thoughts when Sieun opens and closes the door, probably heading off to the communal bathroom to freshen up. 

Today was going to be a long day.

—

The classroom fell silent during teaching, but there were signs of people not paying attention. Rustling papers, soft tapping on the desk, sometimes even straight up snoring. The teachers at Eunjang aren’t paid enough to care, but if it escalates to anything more than these simple telltale signs, they pick on students. 

Worse yet, some students play pranks. Whether that’s on their friends, to bully someone, or just to get revenge at the teacher for punishing them, but anything goes. The severity of the pranks could go from harmless to borderline relentless.

And trust that Seo Juntae knows.

It was a Tuesday morning just like this. He was running to class a little late, taking the liberty to take a morning shower. When he hears the bell toll, signifying the beginning of class, he makes a run for it, not thinking twice about checking the time. 

Hyoman had tricked him. Played the sound of the bell on his phone, echoed it through the halls, and poor little Juntae came bolting into the classroom in a frenzy, afraid he’d be punished for being late.

Then came the strangled scream. 

He still feels that searing hot on his skin, that twisted laugh, that cry for help when he fell onto the ground with a thud. Hyoman had filled up a water gun with scalding hot water and had the audacity to shoot it directly at Juntae. His uniform helped absorb most of the damage, but the tender skin near his wrists extending to his palm was not spared. 

Juntae had spent the entire morning in the nurse’s office. Surprisingly, it was still when Eunjang was still keeping up and employing nurses to replace old ones cycling out due to the heavy workload of pranks and high school fights. 

The scar tissue would remain and his skin would never revert back to the way it was. The nurse looked him down in pity, before saying, “I think you’re the last patient I’ll have. I can’t stand all of these stupid pranks…I’m quitting.” 

All Choi Hyoman received after scarring Seo Juntae for life was serving two detentions after school. It was an injustice, and when Juntae finally came clean about his evident scar to the boys, they all wanted to tear Hyoman apart limb for limb. 

“Are you still thinking about that scar?” 

He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s staring at said scar right now. It’s on his right wrist, a discolored shade of red. Juntae blinks before turning around to face Sieun, the boy’s woeful eyes staring right back at him searching for understanding. 

“Just some old memories resurfacing,” Juntae reassures him, resting his scarred hand on top of Sieun to further aid that. “Nothing much.” 

“Good morning, class!”

Juntae shifts back to face the front of the room, hearing the bell toll like he does every single morning, indicating another tedious day at school. He moves his sleeves up to cover his shameful scars lest they earn an interrogation from this teacher. 

“Today, we are going to start with—

He steps on a tripwire, and of a sudden, a massive block of powder falls directly into his face and coating his body in sheer white. The powder dissipates into the air almost immediately, but the large quantity even coated the front desk tables in small specks of white, which were mostly unoccupied. Juntae and Sieun’s eyes widen, and everyone in the classroom is taken aback by the sudden prank, gasps rings across the area. 

“Who did this?” the teacher coughs out the powder, his face covered in white. 

One of Hyoman’s lackeys stands up. “I saw Park Humin and Go Hyuntak earlier this morning dragging a bag of powder into the room!”

“I saw it too!” 

“Yeah, they’re definitely the culprits.” 

“Hey, what the fuck?! We didn’t do anything!” Baku defends himself. 

“Why are you deflecting?” Hyoman snarls, his arms crossed with a smug expression on his face. “Everyone has to have seen you do it to accuse you guys.”

“I’ve heard enough,” the teacher says through gritted teeth. “Park Humin and Go Hyuntak, go outside and kneel with your arms extended above your head for a whole period. You have detention after school too, since you want to pull this kind of abhorrent mockery on your fellow teacher.”

“I told you, teach, we’re innocent!” Hyuntak tries to reason, but he’s shut up by a slam on the chalkboard. 

“Out! Now.”

Hyuntak practically gets up off his seat and shoves the chair back into the empty desk space, glaring at Hyoman all the way through. He wears that shit-eating grin on his face with pride, knowing he’s won this battle at the very least. 

Baku follows his lead and practically slams the sliding door shut behind them in a fit of rage, dragging his feet through the front of the classroom. Hyuntak was already entering a kneeling position, sighing in defeat. 

“Why’d he fucking pin it on us?” Baku says with a grunt, kneeling beside his friend. 

“I think it’s because of me,” Hyuntak groans, flashing back to a little over two days ago. “That fucker was threatening Juntae in the laundry room, and best believe he would’ve done more if I hadn’t stepped in.” 

“Shit, so he’s coming for us all now? Next thing you know he’s going to prank Sieun or something.”

“I’m sure Suho would raise hell if that happened.” 

“Well, we need someone to actually raise hell because we’re being unfairly punished!” 

They hear the teacher stomp towards the door and Hyuntak smacks Humin to remind him to keep quiet. The sliding door slams wide open, the teacher poking his head out with a very annoyed look on his face. 

“Did I say you can talk?! Keep that up and you’ll be there for two detentions!” he shouts through the hollowed hallways, before slamming the door shut. He stalks away from the two boys, presumably to the bathroom, to clean himself up. 

Baku practically has to pull Hyuntak back from following the teacher all the way down to the bathroom and beating the teacher senseless himself. 

—

When class ends, a group of students eye the two boys kneeling outside of the classroom as they head for their break. It didn’t slip past them that Hyoman and his lackeys chuckle at their demise before heading down the school stairwell. 

Sieun and Juntae emerge from the room, eyes scanning their friends in pity. The teacher steps out of the classroom last, his notes in pretty organized folders and his pen in his shirt pocket preening in professionalism.

“Get up,” the teacher sighs. “You have detention after school, so don’t forget.”

It takes everything in Hyuntak to not retaliate, but Baku's firm grip on his shoulder stops him from acting on his instincts. They all watch their teacher make an exit disappearing behind a hallway leading to the teacher’s room. 

“I’m sorry, Tak-ah,” Juntae says solemnly, his gaze afraid to fixate on the taller man. “He targeted you because you protected me in the laundry room.”

Hyuntak shakes his head. “Don’t be. If I hadn’t stepped in, there was no telling what he would’ve done.” 

“He targeted Humin-ie too, apparently…” Sieun adds. 

“Ahh, it’s like that famous quote. ‘Birds of a feather, we should stick together!’” Baku chuckles as he wraps his arms around Hyuntak’s shoulder, flashing a grin. 

“...Humin-ie, that’s not the original quote.” 

“Huh? It’s not? I could’ve sworn it was in a song…”

“The point is,” Sieun cuts through his rambling. “Someone needs to put him in his place. He’ll keep doing this to us whenever he gets the chance.”

“I say we beat him up,” Hyuntak cuts straight to the chase, anger seething through every word. “I’ve had enough of him.”

“He knows how to victimize himself. There’s no use in beating him up when that’s what he wants. He’ll use it to expose you guys and get you expelled, and those basketball scholarships are gone in a flash.” 

Hyuntak clenches his fists, but he can’t do anything. He knows Sieun is right, how Hyoman was ahead of them in this regard, how he had painted him and Baku out to be troublesome kids who only played stupid pranks on teachers and classmates alike. A part of him wants to screw the scholarship opportunity in general if he could just get his hands on Hyoman. 

“Let’s just hope someone steps in soon enough before I do,” Hyuntak leaves it off at that, cursing his name under his breath. 

—

When the bell tolls to signal that the school day has ended, the four boys walk to the detention room sending their friends to an unlawful detention sentence. It was for only a few hours, but Juntae and Sieun promised that they’ll wait it out with them at the cafeteria. 

The sun is still somewhat high in the sky, but there are no clouds in the sky, and the sun is beaming down on the wet grass now. Juntae watches as a butterfly lands on a poppy outside the flower pots set on the cafeteria windowsill, which somehow has been untouched by the rowdy students of Eunjang. 

Sieun was on his phone—probably texting Suho about his day, telling him about the whole debacle over Hyoman. Out of boredom, Juntae was about to pry, but a buzz on his phone stopped him from doing so.

[@gsxxxje]

are you out of class yet?

they gave us back our phones already over here

[@seojuntae]

yeah i’m out

just got my phone back too ^^

[@gsxxxje]

good to hear

how was ur day?

[@seojuntae]

it was mostly boring…

but baku and tak-ah were punished for a prank they didn’t pull 

so that sucks

[@gsxxxje]

hmmmm

and do you know who pulled it?

[@seojuntae]

yeah…

it’s probably hyoman

he knows how to manipulate things in his favor

[@gsxxxje]

guessing this isn’t the first time it happened huh??

[@seojuntae]

nope.

Juntae finds himself staring at his scar, the very patch of skin he cannot heal no matter how much time has passed. It was taken away from him. 

He doesn’t know what level of trust he has in Geum Seongje to even do this, but he rolls up the sleeves of his uniform and stares at the patch of sunken skin, never truly recovering from the effects of the scalding hot water. 

Deep breaths were taken before he found the courage to snap a picture and send it to Seongje. 

[@seojuntae]

if you were wondering how bad it got… [1 attachment]

[@gsxxxje]

…

why didn’t you tell me he physically hurt you?

Juntae’s eyes sting when he reads the word ‘hurt’. Because as much as he brushed off someone giving him second-degree burns as a harmless joke, as much as he put it past him because he’s in good hands with a group of friends who genuinely care about him, it still stings. There’s a part of him that will always remember what Hyoman did to him, major and minor, but this way by far his worst offense. 

[@seojuntae]

it’s okay…

i got over it anyway!

how was ur day?

There’s a soft pause. It extends from ten seconds, to thirty, to a minute. 

He’s been left on read. 

He lets out a tired sigh before shutting off his phone and returning to stare at Sieun, who was now video-calling Suho to talk about his day. 

—

“What is the purpose of your visit?”

Seongje stands at the security box by the entrance, a very confused security guard eyeing down the man in red. He’s wearing his Ganghak uniform, straight out of class, with his school pendant hanging down his neck.

“Well,” Seongje replies, blowing out cigarette smoke before fixing his gaze on the rustled gardens of Eunjang and the clocktower. “I’m here to visit Choi Hyoman. What’s his dorm number?”

The security guard gives pause to Seongje’s question. “Kid, I don’t know how to say this, but you’re not here to beat up one of our students, right?”

“Of course not,” Seongje feigns innocence, taking another drag off his cigarette. He’s not a very good liar.

“Alright,” the security guard crosses his arms. “Then call someone in Eunjang and have them escort you inside then.” 

“What?!” Seongje exclaims. “I’m just here for an innocent visit! Why do you need someone to let me in?”

“Because you’re from Ganghak, pretty boy,” the security guard narrows his eyes. “I don’t trust that for a second. Not that I care about actual security, but having you in there will be a bloodbath, so the answer is no.”

Seongje rolls his eyes. “I already told you I’m not going to beat anyone up. Just let me in.”

“Then get your friend Choi Hooman or whatever his name is out here.”

“Can’t you just let me in?”

“I’m really sorry, kid, no…”

He watches as Seongje slides a wad of cash that practically shuts up the security guard in one go, eyes widening at the amount. He shoots a look back at Seongje as if to confirm his suspicions before grabbing the bundle and counting it himself.

“Can you let me in now?” 

His voice is cocky, knowing he has the upper hand. Even he knows that in this line of work, there is no sense of loyalty strong enough to battle against the promise of money.

“Well shit,” the security guard says in awe. “This is like three times my annual salary. You have full access to roam here whenever you want, kid. Just don’t cause too much trouble now, ya hear?”

“Sure,” Seongje rolls his eyes before the front entrance opens majestically for him, as if he were an actual prince. He wears that signature grin on his face, full of bravado and confidence, Ganghak uniform blowing in the hot summer wind, his nametag flashing in moments. His innerwear and boyish flair would have everybody at Eunjang staring at him, albeit for the wrong reasons, but he doesn't care. 

But right now, there was only one thing in his mind that he came to do. For Juntae. 

Revenge. 

Chapter Text

“Is that Geum fucking Seongje?”

“What’s that Ganghak fucker doing here?!”

The hallway is filled with whispers amongst fellow students. As Seongje strides through the concrete pathway towards the main building, people poke their heads out of their dorm windows. Word spreads in supersonic speed when hundreds of students live within the same proximity—this was no surprise, and Seongje chuckles underneath his breath at the sight. It reminds him of chickens sticking their heads out of their poor cages at a slaughterhouse. 

But there were more pressing matters. He still doesn’t know Hyoman’s dorm room number, nor does he have any way of making sure he’d get to him unscathed. 

Seongje bit his lip in frustration. Another cigarette sounds really damn good right now, but he brushes that thought away to stay focused on why he was here. He takes out his phone and unlocks it to the screen left on the previous text conversation he and Juntae had: 

[@gsxxxje]

hey puppy

what’s hyoman’s dorm number?

just curious.

[@seojuntae]

…seongje you didn’t even respond to my previous text

what’s going on?

Shit, he’s suspicious. But this also means he still doesn’t know he’s here, right?

[@gsxxxje]

i’m sorry love, i was doing something else

please? what’s his dorm number?

[@seojuntae]

…

he’s three doors down from my room. figure it out.

That’s all Seongje needed. He knew Juntae’s dorm number: 1-13, set on the ground floor, which meant that either Hyoman was in 1-10 or 1-16. 

He’d just have to scout it out.

—

The dorm room reeked of fried chicken and cafeteria food. Hyoman lets out a nasty burp whilst lazily scrolling on his phone, hands on his stomach rubbing in circular motions out of habit. He’s laid up on his bed, a yellow-stained pillowcase from his drool and draped up in his blanket full of chicken crumbs he’d brush off onto the ground. 

He doesn’t even know his roommate’s name, if Hyoman was honest with himself. He sees him out of the corner of his eye, now sitting by the desk with his hand resting on his cheek as he scrolls through social media the same way Hyoman did. The only reason he even agreed to become roommates with him was because he was practically blackmailed—and embarrassing videos and photos had a way of making its rounds to social media, where not only Eunjang kids could joke about, but the Ganghak, Hyeongshin, Buil, Yeo-il and whatever schools in the Seoul district would latch onto for their latest gossip. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts his scrolling and he’s already annoyed. “You better have a good fucking reason for interrupting me!”

His lackeys enter the room, frightened and petrified, eyes shaken to the core with fear. Hyoman eyes shift to the door, taking in their panicked states. “What’s wrong?”

“Hyoman,” one of his lackeys informs. “Geum Seongje is here.” 

“What?!” Hyoman exclaims, suddenly sitting up. His eyes widen when he looks outside the window and sees the Ganghak man in uniform scanning the windows, his gaze being borderline deadly. 

His worst mistake is lingering too long in his view that he finally locks eyes with the wolf himself. 

Seongje grins and begins stalking away once he has tracked down his location.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Hyoman curses, sprinting out of his room. He needed to hide. Should he tell a teacher that someone was coming to beat him up? But he can’t use that card on Seongje—he’s not even from Eunjang! The teachers can’t punish a non-student who didn’t even attend classes here.

He bumps into a bunch of students who yell back at him to watch where he was going, but he didn’t care. Hyoman was dreading getting his ass beat, and he needed to make sure he found a place where Seongje couldn’t find him…

The library.

It’s right beside the detention room.

He makes a sharp left, bolting into the empty library, the largest room in all of Eunjang. It is also, funnily, the most unused room in the entire school, the shelves of books left untouched and collecting dust, chairs promptly pushed in place. He’d just have to wait it out over here. His eyes dart to the ‘RESTRICTED AREA’ written in bold and bolts in, slamming his entire bodyweight on the door for the lock to pry loose.

—

When Seongje arrives at 1-10, he opens the door to see a very startled kid and no signs of Hyoman. The room was in complete and utter disarray, blankets thrown on the floor, bags of trash left unthrown and piled up at the corner of the room and an amalgamation of stains all around the shared rug. The roommates throw up his hands in surrender. “Please, I’m not the one you’re here for.”

“Then tell me where he fucking went.” he sneethed. Seongje’s patience was wearing thin, and boy was he a hot-tempered man.

“I…I don’t know. My best guess is the library. It’s the only place that’s worth hiding in.”

Seongje slams the door shut, stalking towards said library. He follows the signs of the school all the way down, from the dorm room numbers to the nurse’s office to the detention room and finally—the library.

He slides the door open. There’s an eerie silence that screams that no one is here, which would’ve fooled anybody but Seongje was not one of them. His hands have been itching for that cigarette for a while, so he decides what better time to light it in a dimmed library with sunlight peeking through the windows?

“You want to play hide and seek, Choi Hyoman? Fine by me.”

Seongje’s footsteps echo on ceramic tiles, each step inching forward to the towering shelves that screamed desolate and barren. He takes out his lighter, cigarette stuck in his teeth, and two flicks light up the air as a warning siren. He hears a very faint whimper from the far right of the room, and decides to investigate the source of the sound for himself. 

His feet take him to a secluded part of the library, and his eyes stare at a ‘RESTRICTED AREA’ sign. He takes another drag of his cigarette before peering into the room. It was dark. The lights were off and there was no sign of human activity, nothing but the ghost of forgotten files and the occasional eeriness of a silent library.

So he opens the door.

His shoes echo through the hollowed room, almost as if it was predator hunting prey once again. He takes out his phone and opens up the flashlight function, and once he does, the whimper sounds awfully close by. Somewhere to his right, not quite behind him.

When the light shifts to the sound of the whimpering, Seongje hears light scattering in the midst of dust particles floating in the dark. He squints his eyes and sees a figure maneuvering between cardboard boxes, the edge of said box overflowing with more dust than usual. 

Hyoman clasps his mouth shut in fear of the light shining dangerously close to his direction. He didn’t expect how the light would suddenly peter off and engulf him in the same darkness he had been accustomed to in this short period of time, but he furrows his brows in anxiety and confusion. He didn’t dare move a single muscle, lest Seongje manage to find him in the dark. But the footsteps didn’t stop. He felt them getting closer, louder, almost as he was right by his side. 

“Found you!”

Hyoman looks up to see Seongje grinning like a maniac in the dark, and the flashlight is back on and shining directly in his eyes. He winces at the sudden flash before a barrage of punches lands on his face, the phone being knocked away in the process. Every single strike hurt and stung like hell, and Hyoman felt every single one. It was punishment in the most exhilarating way possible. 

“Do you know why I’m here?” Seongje says, reeling in his punches, the ray of light illuminating the room just enough so he could see the damage on Hyoman’s face. The boy claws at Seongje’s hand, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but after another sucker punch to his stomach he finally lets up. 

“Yes! I’m sorry! I won’t hurt your Juntae ever again!” Hyoman wails like the imbecile he is, hands blocking his face. 

“I still don’t think this is enough,” Seongje sighs, grabbing his messied hair and slamming his head on the ceramic tiles, a screeching yelp escaping the bloodied lips of the man before he finally feels his body getting hoisted up by the basketball star himself. 

Hyoman doesn’t even know what was happening anymore. His face went numb from all the damage Seongje had done to it, and the sunlight coming from the outside was waning. He doesn’t even register the pain Seongje was dragging him by his hair, his scalp being accustomed to the pain very quickly. All the bully saw was the orange-tinted glow of the waning sunlight passing through the cracks of the window, and it was almost a pretty sight to see before passing away. 

But Seongje was going to give him a fate worse than death. 

He slides open the library door, scouting the area for the way to the rooftop. Eunjang students were piling up right outside the library, as if they were waiting to see how damaged or hurt Hyoman would be. When the door next to the library slides open to two familiar figures, ones that Seongje has been accustomed to as his enemies on the basketball court. 

“Ahh,” Seongje muses, turning around to face Humin and Hyuntak. “Didn’t expect to see dumb and dumber here.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Hyuntak snarls, before darting his eyes to his right hand. 

Both of them were now staring at the whimpering mess of a loser with his hair entangled in the grasp of Seongje’s hands, more or less. It was a gory sight—Hyoman had a knot on his head, lips bloodied around both the corners, and the scratches appeared vividly near his cheekbones. 

“You guys going to save him?”

Humin and Hyuntak exchange looks. Not only did this man scar Juntae for life, but he also wanted to frame them after protecting their dear friend? 

“Nah, go on ahead.”

“What?! No, please help me! Baku! Gotak! We’re all Eunjang kids! Are you guys really okay with him dragging me by my hair like this?!”

His face pales when he sees Hyuntak whistling away and Humin crossing his arms and closing his eyes in ignorance. 

“Did you hear that, Humin?”

“I don’t know,” Baku shrugs, moving his pinky to pick out his ear. “Must’ve been the wind?”

“FUCK YOU GU—

“Come on, Hyoman, off we go!” Seongje sing-songs, yanking Hyoman by his fake chain and dragging him up the stairs. At this point, the people at Eunjang were mortified or humored by Seongje’s sudden appearance. Maybe all of them had a shared hatred for Hyoman, that even his own lackeys weren’t loyal and were purely hanging around him to use him, because none of them dared to jump in to save their ‘friend’ at this very moment. 

But then again, who would jump in to face such a presence like Geum Seongje? 

The rooftop was searing hot. The concrete floors were radiating heat from the afternoon sun, and Hyoman practically yelps when his skin touches the naked surface of the rooftop. Seongje doesn’t mind any of it though—he drags Hyoman all the way through until the middle of the rooftop, where he finally releases him out of mercy and continues his taunting. 

“You’re being punished. Act like it.”

Hyoman whimpers pathetically before shakily raising his hands up to the sides of his head. It was a common punishment in school enforced by teachers, but having a fellow student forcing you to do this was even more humiliating. 

“You know what,” Seongje grins, crouching down to level his gaze with the trembling Hyoman. “Why don’t you strip?”

“What?! No, please…”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

Hyoman whimpers as he finally relents, slowly taking off his shirt as slowly as he could, feeling the humiliation creep up on his spine. Out of the corner of his eye, the entrance to the rooftop was filled with Eunjang students witnessing the scene of Choi Hyoman being at the mercy of Geum Seongje, and that just hammered in the degradation even further. 

Seongje leans back and takes a look at pitiful Hyoman, satisfied with his work. He fishes out his phone and swipes up to his camera, repositioning his phone to record the boys’ suffering in 4K.

Hyoman sniffles when he hears the jingle that signals Seongje is now recording him. He turns away from the camera but the basketball star is not pleased by it.

“Who are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry, Seo Juntae!” he wails. “I’ll never play a prank on you again!”

Before Hyoman could say anything more, an incoming call cuts through the recording, ending it abruptly.

“Ah…” Seongje chuckles, “Let me answer this.”

He accepts the call.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, puppy! I got a surprise for you. Why don’t you come up to the rooftop?”

“Wait, are you actually in Eunjang right now?” Juntae exclaims from the other end of the phone, marvelled and shocked that Seongje had the balls to come over here and threaten Hyoman. It was different when he was carrying Juntae back to the dorms—because that was necessary, and most of the students understood his intent. This, however…

“I am,” Seongje grins. “I don’t want my little present for you to go to waste, so why don’t you just make your way up here, hm?” 

There’s a pause in which Juntae considers his words. “Alright.”

—

Juntae finds his way up to the rooftop to be riddled with students staring at the ongoing commotion. He had to push through some students, but most of them had cleared the pathway enough for the boy to walk up to the rooftop with no difficulty or obstacles. 

When he softly opens the door entrance onto the rooftop, he’s greeted by quite a sight. The same man who coerced him to clean up his trash, to do his homework, and single-handedly gave him scars that won’t heal was sat at the center of the rooftop, half-naked and arms raised completely at the submission of his boyfriend. 

“How do you like it?!” Seongje shouts after taking a drag off his cigarette, evidently being too far away to strike up a conversation in earshot. 

Juntae doesn’t respond. He gets closer and closer, until his feet stop by in front of the groveling man. His eyes were pleading instead of his words, and for once Juntae had the upper hand over Choi Hyoman.

“You can tell me however you want me to punish him,” Seongje smirks, flicking away the excess ash on his cigarette. “I could even burn him with this, if you’d like me to.”

“Please!” Hyoman practically begs, now clasping his hands. “Juntae, I’m sorry for how I treated you! Please don’t hurt me too badly!”

“So you do remember?”

“Yes! I’m so sorry!” he wails, grabbing onto Juntae’s shoes in an attempt to beg for his forgiveness. Seongje is clearly annoyed by this act and kicks him straight in the face, the boy once again wincing in pain before plopping onto concrete. 

“Did I say you could touch him?”

“I’m so sorry! I won’t touch him anymore! Please, Juntae, have mercy! Please!” 

“You’re so annoying…I’m not going to punish you.”

Seongje and Hyoman blink and register his words in unison. “Huh?”

“Wait, puppy, am I reading this wrong?”

“No, listen to me…”

Juntae shifts, staring back down at Hyoman. “I don’t think punishment always has to resort to violence. I don’t forgive what you did to me. There were nights where I couldn’t sleep, and when I finally did, I dreamt of how badly you’d hurt me again. I’ll never forgive you. But seeing you here like this is already enough for me.” 

Juntae stares at the gathered crowd. The video footage must be tantalizing once he watches the playback, and he’s assured this is going to go viral against his will, so he’s taking the liberty of enjoying the moment. 

He reaches out for Seongje, tugging at the corners of his crimson red uniform. “Come on, let’s leave him here. Let the people laugh if they want to.”

Seongje doesn’t pry his eyes away from Hyoman for a sliver of a second but he assumes that this humiliation is sufficient for embarrassing him. Hyoman is a shell of his former self—shrunken and feeble, yet all he does is pick on people who couldn’t stand up to him. Seongje detests this kind of behavior. It’s repulsive to see, and truly an eyesore. 

“You went way easier on him than I expected,” Seongje comments, hands in his pockets. They were now walking side-to-side, descending down the staircase after a flurry of students made way for them both, and Juntae looks flustered by what just happened.

“Thank you,” he says, without glancing at the man.

“…For what?”

“I mean for what you did to Hyoman,” he tries not to smile, but a soft grin slowly plasters itself on his face. “He…deserved it.”

“I know he did.”

It’s a splitting image of a prince walking with a princess from a foreign kingdom. When their feet land on the ground floors of Eunjang, a few rooms away from Juntae’s dorm room, he turns around to face the man in red. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you in any way right?”

“I’m fine.”

Juntae furrows his brows at that response. Seongje was a very honest and cutthroat man, but that came with flaws—whenever he’d lie, his tone would change, or his sudden change into apathy would be an indication of concealing some truth.

His eyes trail down his body in concern, gasping when they land on the streaks of red scratch marks on his hand. Seongje attempts to brush it off by hiding it behind his head, pretending to scratch an imaginary itch, but he’s a little too late because Juntae has now practically pounced on his arm trying to figure out how much damage has been done.

“Oh my…” Juntae mutters, fingers caressing over his scratches. “Seongje, you’re hurt.”

“He just clawed at me,” Seongje shrugs. “Nothing some bandages can’t fix.”

“No,” Juntae says, dropping his injured hand delicately before picking up his other. “We need to disinfect it…”

Seongje doesn’t even know how Juntae is dragging him right now, but he follows his lead. Juntae’s soft hands just grip the very tip of his fingertips, almost as if any more touch would hurt his tender wounds. He passes through the main hallway, where all the dorms of students were emptied out—probably still up above the rooftop marvelling and laughing at Hyoman half-naked posing humiliatingly for the world to see, but the dorms stop and a red cross sign set just outside the classroom door. 

“Just sit on the empty beds, I’ll find some antiseptic medicine for those scratches,” Juntae orders, immediately scampering to the near empty cabinets to find any bottles left with enough remaining for use.

The disinfectant smell permeates his senses, and the pure white of the nurse’s room blinds his eyes. He takes a seat at one of the rollaway beds, and watches as Juntae returns with a bottle of antiseptic medicine and some cotton swabs, somehow miraculously in stock after all the forgone pranks and play fights.

“Fucidin,” he says. “It helps with disinfection, and it comes handy when it’s someone as dirty as Hyoman.”

“Yeah,” Seongje concurs. “His fingernails are so fucking grimy. Does he even clean himself?”

“I’m afraid he doesn’t,” Juntae chuckles softly, spreading a generous amount of the product onto the front of his hand. He slightly winces upon the cold substance touching his warm skin, which doesn’t slip the medic by. There’s callouses on Seongje’s inner palms, hardened by basketball practice since childhood, and Juntae finds himself tracing the toughened skin as he works on his wounds.

“Your hands are soft.”

“Well…I don’t do anything with them. At least your hands have had years of practice and experience.”

“No, it’s just fucking ruined,” Seongje curses, bringing up his unscathed hand to his face and picking apart the callouses with his thumb. “What years of basketball practice will do to you.”

Juntae doesn’t reply, concentrating more on making sure he didn’t miss any of the scratches on the prince’s hand. Once he’s done, the cotton swab reddened with leftover blood pooled up from Hyoman’s dirty work, he leaves his side to look for some bandages.

“Ah,” Juntae lets out, “They don’t have any more bandages?”

“Aish, puppy,” Seongje looks at his polished hand, now reflecting in the fading tinge of orange outside. “I’ll just let it dry down, it’s fine.”

Juntae shakes his head before shoving the cabinet door closed, getting off his tiptoes. “No, please…just wait here, I’ll rush to my room and get some bandages.”

And off he goes.

Seongje is sitting wondering alone in an eerie nurse’s office with his own thoughts to spare. Why was he doing this? Be it any other girl he had dated before, this was not the treatment he’d give any of them if he heard someone was hurt. Best believe that the girls at Yeo-il were drop dead gorgeous, flawless skin, sharp alluring eyes and hourglass figures. He’s tasted them all, the audaciously possessive, the prettiest and beautiful, the prim and proper.

None of them could compare to the hold Seo Juntae has on his heart. 

He tries to unravel the mystery of why that is, but before his thoughts could be expanded on, he sees Juntae returning to the nurse’s office with a couple of bandaids, which looked more like they were marketed towards little toddlers rather than a fully hormonal teenage boy like him.

Seongje quirks up an eyebrow once he plops one knee onto the now-shared rollaway bed. “Are you seriously going to plaster those things on my hands?”

Juntae flushes upon that recommendation. “I’m sorry, Seongje…” he offers with a soft smile, and it makes Seongje’s heart drop for even insinuating his bandaids were childish. “These are all that I have. They’re spare ones, I just hadn’t had the time to go to the store and buy more. I suppose I’ll take these back to my room…”

Juntae lifts himself up from the squeaky mess of a bed, before a sudden grip on his arm stops him from going any further to the nurse room door. He turns around to see Seongje holding him back, eyes filled with a tinge of regret. “Whatever. Just patch up my wounds, it doesn’t matter to me what your bandages look like.”

The boy’s grip loosens when Juntae finally turns back around, placing back down the bundle of bandages, some slipping in between his fingers due to the sheer amount. He watches as Juntae furrows his brows, ripping apart the bandaid seal and stretching the ends, trying to figure out how to paste it on such uneven cuts. 

“Is it okay if—

“Just do it. I trust you.”

Juntae lets out a sigh, bandaging the scratches that only looked like the wound was deeper. The surface level cuts would dry up and heal in no time, but the dirty, grimier ones would bleed out and become infected if left untreated for too long. 

When he finishes his work, Seongje squints his eyes at the color assortment of bandages on his hands in shades of yellow, light blue and pink. He makes out some of the characters on the plasters like the Hello Kitty in pink starbursts extending from his middle finger to his pinky or Winnie the Pooh with honey droplets near his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Juntae says, flustered again once the finished work presents itself. “You look ridiculous.”

“It’s cute,” he laughs, his hair falling over his eyelids.

Something warm blooms over Juntae’s heart, seeing Seongje in that way. Behind that tough exterior and that cocky grin, lies a teenage boy still fond of new things, and Juntae sees that for a split-second when he looks at how Seongje stares at his own bandaged hand.

“Hm…” Seongje starts. “We shouldn’t stay here for too long. I’m sure people will get suspicious if they see me using your medical facilities.”

“Then where should we go?”

His cocky grin returns, plastered on his face. “Your room?”

Juntae blinks. “M-my room?”

“You live here don’t you, Eunjang?”

The answer is very obviously yes, but Juntae is panicking at the thought that just the two of them would be in the same room. How would Sieun even feel about that? Would Seongje—

“Hey, I’ll have you know when you passed out at the haunted house on my back, I carried you all the way to your dorm room, y’know that? Even your newbie roommate has seen me before.”

Juntae can’t believe he forgot about that. “Okay, but I passed out! I don’t remember that!”

Seongje rolls his eyes. “I guess I’ll go back to Ganghak then.”

He smiles when he suddenly gets up off the bed with a quickness, taking strides towards the door in a pretend fit of rage. Juntae reaches out his hand and calls out to stop him from inching any closer to the exit. “Wait!”

Seongje’s smile widens. He knows Juntae wants him just as much as he does, and God, is he abusing that privilege so well. He hears Juntae picking up the leftover trash from all the bandages he unwrapped before slowly running up to his side. 

“You can come to my room, I’ll text Sieun to give us some privacy…”

“Now that’s what I’d like to hear.”

Chapter Text

[@seojuntae]

sieun-ah! i’m so sorry but me and seongje will use the dorms for a while, okay??

ill text u when he finally goes back to ganghak!

pinky swear

[@yeon__sieun]

Okay.

I’ll go out with the boys for a bit.

See you.

Sieun finishes typing and lays down his phone to look at the two men entering the empty cafeteria, stumbling and hands in their pockets. They blink when they see only one person occupy the table space.

“Where’s Jun-ah?” Hyuntak lets out first, puzzled by his disappearance.

Sieun slides his phone in his pockets, before standing back up. “He texted me that he and Seongje would be occupying our dorm room for a while.”

Humin and Hyuntak blink in unison. “Wait, what?!”

“Geum Seongje is also here at Eunjang…I assume it’s because he came to avenge Juntae.”

“Okay, well, we know that,” Humin scratches his head, flashing to the images of Hyoman’s beat up face in Seongje’s grasp. “Wow, so he actually went to beat up Hyoman for our princess Juntae?”

“He’s a prince, after all.” Hyuntak drops his shoulders. “I still don’t trust him but at least he has the decency to fight for Jun.”

“Does this mean our ice princess has been dethroned?” Baku wails. “Don’t worry, Sieun, I’ll be your prince!”

Sieun shifts his gaze. “I have Suho. That will suffice.”

Hyuntak lets out one of his ear-shattering laughs at the rejection before Baku hammers his fists in his shoulder as payback. 

“That’s besides the point. Let’s just go somewhere else for the time being and come back later.”

Baku shakes his head and wags his finger. “We’re staying.”

Sieun deadpans. “And do what, exactly?”

“Do what we do best! Making sure Juntae is safe and sound from Geum Seongje.”

Hyuntak sighs. “He just wants to see if Juntae finally gets to fuck him.”

“Hey, we can’t defile and ruin Sieun’s innocence like this, Gogo!”

“As if he’s innocent…” he trails off, eyes darting to the man in front of him sending a warning glare before cutting himself off with an awkward clear of a throat. “Anyways, I agree with Sieun. We shouldn’t eavesdrop on a private moment like this.”

“Exactly,” Sieun thanks the heavens that Hyuntak has some common sense. “You can pester Juntae all you want tonight after curfew anyway. Or tomorrow. But let’s give them their space.” 

“You guys are no fun,” Baku grumbles.

—

Juntae’s room was a tidy area, coupled with the fact that he and Sieun share the same space, so there isn’t much room for mess to be made without a proper scolding. 

When Seongje walks in, the soft breeze of warm air passes through his and Juntae’s body once the door has been opened. The window is wide-open, the lightweight curtains blowing in the soft wind with the ease of silk. Juntae lets out a small gasp before shuffling his feet towards the curtains, closing the window halfway to ensure they still had some fresh air enter the room. 

“Please…make yourself at home.”

Juntae takes off his uniform and drapes it over the chair, sporting only his white undershirt. Seongje follows in his lead, taking off his uniform, revealing a black tiger print undershirt as he drapes his uniform right over Juntae’s, their nametags displayed side-by-side in shades of crimson red and navy blue. 

His focus shifts to the bunk beds. On the bottom bunk lies a mattress with pure white bedsheets, tucked in perfectly with a neat precision, blankets folded nicely. He assumes it isn’t Juntae’s bed because once he moves his eyes upward to the top bunk, he sees a massive plushie of a rabbit with an X on its mouth threatening to fall from six feet high beside a folded blanket riddled in splotches of color.

He decides against taking a seat on the newbie’s space, given he knows nothing much about him other than the fact he looks sleep deprived, evident from the dark circles around his eyes and the fact he barely talks. Seongje finds himself walking towards their shared desk, eyes scanning over the study papers before he focuses back on Juntae who plops his body down on the gigantic teddy bear at the corner of the room. 

“You don’t have to be so damn tense,” Seongje says, watching how uneasy Juntae was. “It’s just me. Relax.”

“I know,” Juntae sighs, relaxing his shoulders. “It’s just…you know…I never had a boyfriend? Especially not someone like you?”

Seongje furrows his brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No! Please don’t misunderstand,” Juntae panics. “I mean like dating the popular guy, especially from another school. I just never thought I was admirable enough for it or something.” 

“Well,” Seongje lets out a laugh, letting out a little grunt as he takes a seat on the ground next to Juntae and the fuzzy teddy bear. “You were cute enough for me to beat up the guy who was bullying you.” 

He lays his head down on Juntae’s lap, shuffling to get comfortable. His hands are on his stomach, and his long hair is now penetrating his eyes, even when closed. Juntae lets it happen, feeling his smooth hair pile up on his uniform trousers, still unchanged. He warily places his hand dangerously close to Seongje’s scalp, almost as if touch was so foreign to him when it came to Geum Seongje. 

“You wanna play with my hair, puppy?” Seongje inquires, already knowing the answer. “You can do it.”

His hands find their way through his tender hair, soft hands now rubbing the scalp of the man in circular motions. Seongje clearly enjoys it, fully easing into Juntae’s hold.

Seongje cuts through the comfort. “So how long has he been bullying you?”

“Since last year,” Juntae sighs. “But it’s all in the past now. Now that we don’t live in the same space, and I made friends with Baku and Tak-ah, it’s gotten a lot better,” he beams.

“Still,” Seongje sighs, looking at his bandaged hand. “The next time something like this happens, don’t brush it off, okay? Life isn’t worth living in fear. Your heart is too pure to even let him off like that."

Juntae perks his lips up to a smile after relishing in the tenderness of his boyfriend. “Aren’t you worried though? Everyone seeing you do what you did to Hyoman? Would you get in trouble for this over at Ganghak?” 

“Who said I’ll get in trouble?”

“There’s videos of you beating him up. I think it will be pretty big on social media soon...I just don't want you to get reprimanded."

Seongje throws his hands up before placing them back on his stomach. He looks a little too unbothered. “I’ll get it dealt with. I have my way of doing things.” 

The light in the room shifts. It is dark outside now, the skies shifting from their soft orange glow to a gloomy grey landscape, the sun no longer lingering on their tanned skin. Juntae purses up his lips, debating whether or not he should pry or step back. 

“How…uh…are you going to handle it then?” 

“Do you usually ask this many questions?” 

“I’m just curious.”

Seongje contemplates, clearly something weighing on his mind when he stares back up at Juntae’s curious eyes. “If you want to know my secrets so badly, puppy, then I’m afraid you’re going to have to share some of yours, too.”

Juntae takes a short pause in ruffling Seongje’s hair. “I don’t have that many secrets…” 

“I’m sure you can think of a good one. Tell me about you. Or is there any blackmail you have on those friends of yours?

Juntae lets out a nervous laugh. It’s common for everyone living in the same space to have secrets they share with each other, but he decides against it to expose his circle so early into the dating scene. “I once…wet myself when I was here sleeping.” 

“Oh?”

“I was dreaming of going to the bathroom after a really long road trip and letting it all out. I remember feeling uncomfortably wet so I jolted awake and found myself in a pool of my own piss…” 

Seongje chuckles slightly before earning a quick slap from Juntae. “You…you can’t laugh at that! I haven’t told anyone! The only person who knows is Sieun!”

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Seongje wheezes, “So like…how did you clean it up?”

“We had to let the mattress dry down,” Juntae sighs. “I slept on the floor for a week straight. Just my karma.”

Seongje gives a hum of content. “At least it’s not a common occurrence, right?”

Juntae nods. “I told you my secret. What about you?”

There’s a pause before a response, the twiddling of fingers before he finally speaks again. “You think I’m rich, puppy?”

“Yeah,” Juntae replies. “You have those luxury cars right? On your Instagram?”

“You’re right. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he trails off. “So why do you think a guy like me, who clearly has the capability of enrolling into Yeo-il is stuck studying at Ganghak, hm?”

Juntae ponders for a short bit, his fingers resuming making motions in Seongje’s hair as he contemplates his answer. “I don’t know…maybe you just want the experience of a normal life?”

Seongje smiles. “It’s because my father owns Ganghak.”

The sense of realization fills the air between them. The cold breeze entering the room now is soft and gentle, ruffling through the curtains in waves of shared silence and longing stares. 

"Oh wow..."

“So when I said I’d deal with it, I really do have my ways. Connections and money are the only things that matter in life. I’ll have it taken down in no time. Don’t worry, though, I’ll save a copy of the video just for us both to look back on.”

Juntae was speechless. He was dating not only the popular kid, but the heartbreak prince, the basketball star, and to top it all off, the literal son of Ganghak himself. His mind is invigorated with burning hot questions now. 

“Wait, so do you have to pay any of your tuition?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have brothers? Sisters?”

“I’m an only child. You know, I’m having second thoughts dating you, puppy, you really ask way too many questions…”

Juntae flushes, distracting himself by continuously playing with Seongje’s hair. “It’s just…” he grumbles. “My parents had to work two jobs at once to enroll me in Eunjang. I’m kind of jealous…”

“No, I get it. Tuition keeps skyrocketing year by year. Trust me, I’d know considering we’re competitors. But if you want a chance at getting into those big colleges, you’d better graduate from a well-known high school right? Eunjang, Ganghak, Hyeongshin, Daehyeon, Buil…” 

College. Juntae thinks about it a lot, especially during first year rooming with Hyoman, how his experiences here would help shape his future if he’d kept going at it. He just needed to keep his head up, focused on getting good grades (and hell, he’s managing because he’s right behind Sieun in this regard), so that he could put high school past him and focus on his life after graduation. 

But a thought bubbles in his mind, newly-formed and never entertained.

Would they be dating into college? 

He stares down at the man in his black shirt, tiger print firmly settled on his chest. The hem of said fabric is slightly lifted up, exposing the tender skin near his waistline. Even in this dimmed lighting, it looks so toned, so tasteful. Juntae wonders what did he ever do to deserve a man this built as his first love, who was devilishly handsome and charming. There’s still something lingering in his heart, a confession he’d never utter out loud for Seongje to hear. 

Maybe he was just dating Juntae for fun. 

He's the heartbreak prince for a reason, right? Perhaps once this is all said and done, Seongje would find another pretty girl to go out with or find another boy that looked like him in Ganghak. It would be much easier that way, wouldn’t it? To not have to deal with the politics, petty school rivalries, and judgmental stares? 

So he tries his best to savor this moment. A first love that was never meant to last, but the memories made in the spring of youth would haunt him well into adulthood and old age.

Seo Juntae is just too weak to pull away. 

“When will the newbie be back?” a question from the prince echoes into the night, interrupting a long silence. 

Juntae narrows his eyes at the question. “He has a name, you know? Yeon Sieun?”

“I know. I just like calling people by their nicknames,” Seongje shifts his head to stare up at Juntae. “Like you, puppy.”

Juntae blushes. “I texted him to give us some privacy. But I mean, we aren’t going to…do anything…right?”

Seongje curls his lips to a devilish smile. “Unless you want to."

Juntae’s eyes widened in shock. Was he insinuating…

“I’m just kidding. I’m not going to try anything until you tell me so, puppy.”

Geum Seongje knows consent. God, talk about the bare minimum…

“But it is getting kind of late,” he grunts, lifting himself out of Juntae’s grasp, the smaller's hands freezing after the strands of hair he was caressing suddenly moved away. He looks up at the man grabbing his uniform draped on the chair by the desk, draping the red clothing around his shoulders once again. It was a gentle reminder that even in moments like these, they were still on opposing teams, and that loving Geum Seongje doesn’t come easy.

“I’ll get going,” Seongje says, straightening out his uniform with a wink. “Don’t miss me too much now.” 

“Wait…”

“Hm?”

Juntae stands up, inching closer to the now confused man standing by the doorway. He stands up on his tippy-toes and gives him a soft peck by his cheek, talking the man by surprise.

“For dealing with Hyoman,” Juntae’s sudden show of confidence flushes away when he lands back on the soles of his feet. “I figured it wouldn’t be right to leave you without a goodbye kiss.”

Seongje smiles, lifting his finger to Juntae’s chin to fixate his gaze once he shies away from the peck. “You’re so damn cute, puppy.”

In the moment, with the stars twinkling outside the sky, canary birds coming back home to their nest outside their window, chirping a sweet song as Seongje and Juntae stand there face-to-face in a shabby boarding school dorm room, they let themselves believe— maybe everything will be okay.

—

“I bet you good money they fucked.”

“Baku, please,” Hyuntak begs, cutting up the grilled meat. “We’re in fucking public!”

The K-BBQ place is sizzling with excitement and noise. Beside them are a couple girls from Buil, and behind them were a bunch of Hyeongshin kids coming into this side of town for some after school fun. Suho just clocked out of his shift and is now sitting at a table where Hyuntak was trying to shut up a very foul-mouthed Humin, Sieun sitting by his corner minding his own business, and the splendid aroma and smoke from the grill occupying their senses.

“Whatever, Gogo,” Baku replies, bewildered by how that’s a problem. “I’m asking Juntae tonight what happened between their ‘alone time’ and if I’m right, you guys all owe me money.”

“But seriously, that Geum Seongje. Who knew he was such a romantic? Beating up Juntae’s bully like that and humiliating him in front of his entire school…” Suho marvels at how bold Seongje was, nabbing a piece of meat with his chopsticks. “I’ll admit that I was wrong about him.” 

“Yeah, I thought he was just a classic case of a fuckboy,” Hyuntak interjects.

“No, he definitely is…” Sieun scoops some of the meat and rice into his mouth before chewing slowly before swallowing. “His target just so happens to be Juntae this time around, that's all."

“But isn’t he still a big deal ‘round Ganghak or whatever?” Suho questions with his mouth full. “The heartbreak prince of Ganghak going all in for his love at Eunjang…gosh, it sounds so fucking disgusting.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t protecting Sieun from his bullies in his previous school,” Baku rolls his eyes. “He told me you’re his prince!”

Suho’s eyes widen before a devilish grin forms on his face, pouncing on Sieun before he gets the chance to run away to the bathroom. “So I’m your prince charming, huh?”

“Let go of me. That was not what I said,” Sieun tries to deflect, but Suho is now head over heels and touchy-feely over Sieun in ways that only all of them were accustomed to.

Hyuntak plays with his food watching the lovebirds go at it. “I need a girlfriend so badly.”

“Me too,” Baku sighs, before clearing his throat, breaking out into song in his baritone. “Baby all through the night, I’ll make love to you~~~”

Hyuntak slams his chopsticks down on the table and runs off to the bathroom, pretending like he never knew any of these people to begin with. And well, for tonight, that probably was for the best. 

Chapter Text

“Shit, Hwangmo, what does that say?”

“You suddenly can't read or something? What’s wrong with you asking me all these questions today?”

Seongje was going blind.

Not in that way. He just needed a new prescription because he outgrew his glasses and his eyesight is worsening by the day. He had difficulties reading his study notes which were getting messier or just random important signs on the street, or his basketball coach yelling at him after missing the net more than usual because he couldn’t gauge his shots right. Both of which were reasons why you needed a new prescription. 

But never his main concern.

No, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to see Seo Juntae’s face in his entirety. To soak up the beauty of his new boyfriend, to outline his cute face, the plump cheeks, the puffy eyes and the innocent glare of a princess looking up at her prince charming with stars in her eyes—almost bursting out into constellations every single time they met.

He can’t see any of that in his current state.

The memories he has of Juntae weren’t necessarily hazy, but he only saw how cute he was when perched up on his lap or when he was close-up with him on his date. 

“No, fuckface,” he suddenly remembers to respond to his friend. “I just wanted to make sure I could read whatever that was.”

Hwangmo squints annoyingly before snagging Seongje’s glasses out of his face and examining it, leaving his eyesight even more blurry than before. He curses before reaching for them, but Hwangmo has the upper hand. “So you can’t see with these on, huh?”

“You fucking bastard! Give me back my glasses!” Seongje snarls, tackling his friend, but Hwangmo is a statue. Although he’s shorter than Seongje, he doesn’t go down without a fight, and this was one of those rare ones that Seongje would lose.

“I’m not giving you these back until you get a new pair,” Hwangmo’s tone is resolute. “Just go get a new prescription. You need it.”

Seongje glares at him. “Yah, what the fuck are you, my dad or something?! How would I even go to the eye doctor being legally blind?”

“I should be. And you can always call up your princess from Eunjang, can’t you?”

“You—"

The bell tolls in the classroom, and the teacher immediately packs up and leaves, not even finishing the lecture. The tray of smartphones are now on the desk, ready for students to rampage through. Half of the kids instantly wake up from their slumber, sleepy and tired from the food they consumed over lunch, and the bell shakes them awake, some of them still drooling on their desks. 

Seongje watches as Hwangmo stalks to the front of the class to retrieve his phone before leaving. “Remember, you won’t get these back until you finally get new ones.”

He was going to kill his friend one day for weaponizing his blindness.

—

[@gsxxxje] 

hey puppy ;)

how was ur day

There was a short delay in response but Seongje just assumed it was because he was getting his phone back.

[@seojuntae]

ah, seongje!

how was school

my day was the same old 

[@gsxxxje]

good to hear ;)

remember when i said you owe me one for carrying you back to eunjang?

[@seojuntae]

oh…

so what do you want me to do…?

i’m not really good at anything…

[@gsxxxje]

it’s simple

you know any good eye doctors around?

the one i go to is a massive dickhead

fuck him 

[@seojuntae]

why didn’t you say so earlier!

in fact, i was thinking of getting a new prescription too! my eyes are getting worse

How romantic was that. A date at the eye doctor…

[@seojuntae]

also i know this doctor!! she’s a good friend of my mom and she’ll help you with your eye troubles no problem! you have my word

[@gsxxxje]

kk yeah i trust you puppy

can we go today?

[@seojuntae]

oh! why the rush? do you really need a new prescription?

[@gsxxxje]

that and a stupid fucking idiot stole my glasses so i can’t see anything

i’m blind, puppy

[@seojuntae]

i feel bad for laughing but i can’t see either

maybe our love was born out of blindness…

[@gsxxxje]

pls 

never 

say that shit again

can you come to ganghak? i actually cant fucking see

i would go to pick you up but i’d actually be a hazard to myself

[@seojuntae]

alright…it’s just you know i was supposed to help baku and tak-ah with their basketball match with the eunjang kids today and cheer them on but i’ll tell them it’s urgent 

[@gsxxxje]

you can tell those idiots to fuck off

your prince has requested the presence of his beloved princess

and he will have you thrown in jail if you fail to follow his orders ;)

[@seojuntae]

…

and i’m the one in the wrong for making up cheesy romantic lines…?

i’ll be there shortly ^^

—

Juntae eyes Hyuntak and Baku cautiously, thinking about when it was okay to break the silence between them. They were bickering over the same old basketball tricks like they usually were, and how they were going to tear down their competition of fellow Eunjang kids at this practice game. Humin and Hyuntak were renowned for their skills and being the best players at Eunjang, given how well they work together—Humin with his precision and accuracy, Hyuntak with his wonderful assists. They were already in their blue jerseys, the name letterings stitched on their back with the numbers 10 and 7 showcased proudly on their backs, with Juntae trailing behind them.

“Guys…” he mutters out, soft-spoken as always. Neither of them turned around to face him, clearly too occupied with their own chatter before he clears his throat and tries again a little louder. “Guys!…”

“Ah, Juntae,” Baku responds first, clasping a hand on Hyuntak’s mouth. “Sorry, was he too loud?”

Hyuntak karate-chops his arm before Baku cries out in fake pain, letting go of his grasp on his mouth. “Are you fucking crazy?! You’re louder than me!”

“Look who’s shouting!” Baku retorts. 

Juntae silently wishes Sieun was here to quiet them both down but he’s off with Suho once again for another rendezvous. The two lovebirds flocking away together romantically, drifting off into the sunset, removed from the disturbances of their rowdy friends.

But isn’t Juntae doing the same to them right now…?

“I’m going to go to the eye doctor,” Juntae starts. “I’m sorry…it’s urgent.”

Hyuntak furrows his brows. “Did something happen? Why the sudden visit?”

Juntae bites down on his lip, contemplating on whether or not he should tell them the truth. “Well…something got in my eye so I have to get it checked…”

He’s not a really good liar either, evident by how he’s currently stumbling on his words and now even Baku is growing wary. “Is Hyoman trying to blind you?”

“No! It’s…” Juntae sighs, knowing he can't lie his way out of this one. “Someone stole Seongje’s glasses and I need to take him to get a new perscription…I also need one too. My eyesight is worse by the day.”

Baku winces. “Aigo, our princesses have all grown up now that they have boyfriends.”

“Yeah,” Hyuntak lets out a deep sigh, shoving his hands in his pocket shorts. “I thought Sieun being stuck with Suho was bad but this is a whole ‘nother level…”

Juntae swallows. “Are you guys mad at me? I’m sorry.”

Baku rubs his nose to get rid of his itch. “Well, we understand. We never really tell Sieun to hang out with us instead of Suho, right?”

“That’s because he’d actually kill us,” Hyuntak chimes in. “Either way, we’re a little sad you’re not going to cheer us on, but we understand Jun-ah. As long as you stay loyal to Eunjang, there’s no problem.”

“I promise I’ll be there next time,” Juntae holds out his pinky in a show of promise. “Swear.”

Hyuntak sticks out his pinky with all intent to complete the promise but he’s stopped by a tanned arm who beats him to it. “Alright, Seo Juntae! We have your word!”

“He was trying to pinky-promise me, you fucking monkey.”

“You snooze, you lose, Gogo.” 

Juntae gives an awkward smile and watches as the two continue on bickering like nothing happened and slips away to the gates of Eunjang, passing by groups of students sitting around lazing on their phone or playing games to pass the time. 

The garden is starting to bloom. He sees a bunch of marigolds light up the corner in glistening shades of yellow, brighter and bountiful than before. Even with his worsening eyesight, he can see the purple of the lavender cutting through the rigid soil, waving as a cold breeze rustles the leaves and flowers alike. He smiles after the brief checkup and runs out to the sidewalk, where he lets his feet drag him to Ganghak.

It takes only a few minutes for Juntae to walk to the bus stop from Eunjang, given its size. He sits and waits, amongst other students and civilians and patiently waits for his ride to arrive. After paying the fare and managing to get a lucky seat by the window next to an elderly woman, he stares out at the roads and passing cars in a frenzy. The only thing occupying his pretty little mind is seeing Seongje once again after their little encounter at his dorm, and it has been two days too long. He has his head laid on the bus seat window, eyes shifting after the bus makes a left turn and he winces once the sunlight flashes his eyes.

“Ahh,” an elderly voice croaks. “What are you so smiley about, young one?”

Juntae blinks in surprise before a moment of silence. “Who…me?”

“Yes, you…” the elderly woman lets out a hearty laugh. “You have that spark in your eyes I haven’t seen in a while. Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Oh…she’s…actually a boy,” Juntae laughs it off, worried about her reaction.

“Ah, young love these days,” the woman sighs, wrinkly eyes floating up in thought. “It’s amazing to see how much we’ve grown…”

Juntae lets out a sigh of relief, free from judgment at last. “I really do like him…maybe a little too much. I worry I’m falling in love too fast.”

“That’s just how love is, young one,” the elderly woman smiles. “Especially at your age, and your first time. It can get overwhelming,” she laughs again, warm and fluffy. “Trust me, I’d know!”

She pulls out her little locket in the shape of a little golden heart around her neck, entangled in golden links. When it opens up, a photo of a drop-dead gorgeous woman with her hair prettified in curls staring at the camera with a soft smile plops into view. Juntae’s mouth goes agape, staring back at the elderly woman who was smiling—the same exact smile as the picture in her locket. 

“You were so beautiful…”

“Were?” 

“Oh! I…I didn’t mean…”

The woman chuckles at his reaction, clearly enjoying teasing him. In some ways, she reminds him of Seongje, that flair of confidence and playful gestures.

“Don’t take it to heart, sweetie. May I ask what school you come from? You remind me of the men that used to chase me all those years ago…”

Juntae gives her a smile before reaching into his shirt and pulling out his Eunjang necklace, the sky blue pendant reflecting briefly in the blazing sunlight. It had the school logo plastered on it, made to be worn with pride, the hangul lettering of the school name emboldened in big white letters. 

“I knew it!” she lets out another laugh, “I was from Buil, young one. When the school was just opening. Eunjang and Ganghak kids would fight each other for my attention all day during my time, but I paid none of them any mind!” 

Juntae’s eyes widened in shock. “You rejected them all?”

“Every. Single. One.” 

The bus rushes through another speed bump, shaking both him and the poor elderly woman, which Juntae gently holds onto to prevent her from toppling over. She pats his hand once it was over to signal that she was okay, and Juntae lets go, eyes wary but the smile returns to his face.

“But one day, something miraculous happened. I was getting robbed after walking home alone in the middle of the night, and I had no way of fighting my attacker…this Ganghak kid came in, still wearing that red uniform—saved my life and my purse from getting stolen, but in return, he had stolen my heart.” 

There’s a beauty and timelessness in how an old woman describes her youth that doesn’t make it sound cheesy or dramatic, as if the raspiness of her sweet voice riddled those words with decades of experience. 

“Eunjang boys were gentlemen, or at least, they tried to be. They held the door open for me and made sure I was taken care of. But at the end of the day, boys were boys,” she laughs, bringing her veiny hands to cover her mouth. “The Ganghak kids though…they were confident. They knew they were charming and handsome, and heartbreakers they were. You’ve got to learn how to deal with their ego.”

Well, that describes Seongje perfectly, doesn’t it…?

“Are you dating a Ganghak boy, young one?”

“How…how did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face!” she exclaims, “I had that same innocent wonder in your eyes when I was your age, you know? Going to Ganghak to see the man you’ve fallen in love with.”

“...Then can I ask you something, if you don’t mind?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. What do you want to know?”

“How did you deal with him? His hot-temper, his ego, trusting he would stay with you for life?"

She sits back and closes her eyes, as if she’s trying to recall memories of her youth. “Ah, so that's what you're so worried about. I'll tell you what young one, time will tell you if he's right for you. No matter how many things could tear you apart, you'll always find your way back to each other if fate had already blessed you both. Give yourself time. Heal from your mistakes, from his mistakes. And maybe one day, fate will pull you back together again with one longing kiss." 

Juntae gives one of his cheeky smiles as a thank you, eyes shifting after being so deep in thought himself. He’d never found someone who understood his current predicament so… accurately. The bus suddenly halts, and Juntae jumps up slightly from the impact in shock, watching as the elderly woman grabs her cane and slowly stands up out of her seat. 

“This is my stop, dear. I’m wishing you all the best. Good luck.”

He blinks as the elderly woman, cane in hand, maneuvers her way to the bus door, the driver patiently waiting for her to descend the stairs safely. He sits back, thinking about the wisdom bestowed upon him, and stares out at the cloudy blue sky when the bus moves once again.

He exhales with hope in his eyes. Two more stops until Ganghak.

—

Seongje was already waiting at the front gates, kicking rocks and smoking a cigarette when he squinted his eyes at a figure nearing him which he assumed was his princess. 

“Ah, puppy,” Seongje makes out his boyfriend’s face, one hand in the pocket of his red windbreaker half zipped to his chest alongside his jet black trousers. Everything about him was red, Juntae thinks, and by the time he’s finished dating Seongje, he believes every single shade of red would sear itself into his brain as a haughty reminder of their love. He shakes away that thought though, once he finally moves closer to him. 

“Let’s go,” Juntae says, grabbing his hand. “I can lead you to the bus stop.”

“Yah, I’m not that blind! Everything’s just fuckin’ blurry.”

“Then you are blind,” Juntae retorts, dragging him by his hands again. “You can be honest with me, Seongje-ya, I’m not going to laugh at you for being vulnerable.”

Seongje blinks, his feet suddenly stopping, which prompts Juntae to stop too. “What did you just say?”

Juntae turns back, confused. “You can be honest with me, Seongje…ya…”

“Ah,” Seongje lips perk up to a soft grin, before Juntae feels the tips of his ears get red before shaking away the sensation. “Say that again…”

“No!” Juntae puts his foot down. “Come on, the sun is going to set at this rate if we don’t go, Seongje!” 

The Ganghak boy rolls his eyes, letting his Eunjang half drag him to the nearest bus stop. Cars pass them on the road in a flash and engines whir in dreary noise. Juntae plops down on the empty seat at the bus stop, beckoning Seongje to sit beside him, who was smoking the last bits of his cigarette. He stubs it on the ground before plopping down beside his love, propping both of his arms up on the backrest. 

“I hate public transport,” he says with a sigh. “If I weren’t blind, I’d drive us to the eye doctor ourselves.”

“In that beautiful beauty of yours?” Juntae questions, already knowing the answer. Seongje gives a resounding nod and a cocky smile. 

“I haven’t taken you out on a ride with her just yet,” Seongje says, with a wink. “One day, though. One day.”

Juntae smiles back, crooking his neck to see if the bus was arriving yet. He sits back when there seems to be no sign of the gigantic vehicle just yet, eyes fixating on Seongje. It isn’t that he wasn’t handsome with his glasses on, but seeing him without them sparked new feelings inside him, a side of Geum Seongje he hasn’t seen or considered.

“Are you staring at me again?”

“Sorry…” Juntae mutters. “I was just…admiring you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Juntae could see Seongje’s bask in his own smugness, before he’s saved by the bus. 

—

“This is the place?”

The clinic was located just a few minutes away from the heart of Seoul, but in a very secluded area. A quick survey of the place would tell you that the shops in the area have closed down—probably from the lack of the customers circulating around this area, but this clinic was still standing tall and proud. 

“Yep,” Juntae beams. “I even told her beforehand that we were coming, so she shouldn’t have any clients right now.” 

Seongje is a little surprised at that. He didn’t expect Juntae to have many connections, but he assumes he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

Juntae presses the metallic button on the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. Seongje darts his eyes to survey the area—it was like any other eye clinic, but the only thing he was here for was for was for new glasses and a prescription and to get the fuck out of there after those two conditions were met.

“Welcome,” a nurse says, right after they exit the elevator door to the third floor. “May I ask who you are here to see?”

“Dr. Miyoung,” Juntae responds. “She should already be expecting us.”

The nurse scribbles something down on her board, before leading both of the boys to her room. “This way.”

The smell of the clinic isn’t offensive in the slightest, but it is too clean. Seongje despises the smell of those fresheners they use in an attempt to brighten up the patient’s experiences, when in reality, he finds himself getting a headache from the pristine nature of it all. He sits with Juntae side-by-side in a rolling chair, rolling around in boredom, whilst his boyfriend is sitting in silence tapping his knee silently to pass the time. 

“Hello, Juntae-ah,” a soft elegant voice cuts through the silence of the room as she enters with a slide of a door. “I haven’t seen you since that outing with your mother. How are you?”

“Things have been good,” he chuckles, brushing past the mention of bullying. “I’m just here to get my eyes checked.”

“Well,” she sits gracefully on her desk. “That’s what I do best. And who is this handsome young man, may I ask?”

“He’s, uh…he’s…”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Seongje says, pursing his lips and crossing his arms. “Need a new prescription.” 

Miyoung nods cautiously before darting her eyes back to Juntae who was now beet-red. She decides not to push it any further and grabs her belongings, setting the stage for what would be an eye exam. 

“What’s your name, handsome?” Miyoung inquires, grabbing the trial frames from the back of the room. 

“Geum Seongje.” 

“Geum…” Miyoung lets the name linger on her tongue, before walking back up to the examination table to Seongje’s right and laying out the intended materials. “Your lineage founded Ganghak, huh?”

Seongje’s eyes widened a little, taken aback. “How do you know that?”

“It’s an open secret. Not anything a person in my position wouldn’t know about,” she says, pointing to her nametag, and Seongje suddenly has a show of understanding.

He slowly quiets down, shifting his attention elsewhere. Juntae is a little dazed, clearly not following how or why Miyoung knows that information, but he makes a mental note to ask Seongje about it later. 

“I should examine Seongje first and foremost since I don’t have any prior information on his eyes,” she says. “You can join too, Juntae-ah.” 

Seongje walks over to the chair a distance away by the eye chart and takes a seat. Juntae rolls his chair over right behind the man as if he’d been monitoring his condition himself, but in reality, he just wanted an excuse to be closer to Seongje if he could. 

“Alright,” Miyoung says, putting on the trial glasses on the arch of his nose. “I’ll switch out the lens and you tell me what you see, alright?”

“Yeah,” Seongje deadpans. “I’ve been through this, you don’t have to tell me how this goes.”

“So feisty,” she comments. “How do you deal with him, Juntae-ah?”

Juntae shrugs. “I just got used to it, I guess…”

The check-ups were regular, and nothing Seongje wasn’t accustomed to. Air blown in the eyes, checking for eye pressure, seeing that damn air balloon again, trying his best to differentiate between two barely different lenses. He could only bear through it because Juntae was practically by his side through the whole thing, squeezing his hands, making sure his presence was known whenever he was put through those stupid tests again. It helped quell whatever hot temper he had brewing inside of him. 

Juntae had it much easier. He was a regular here anyway, so the check-up was routine. 

“That should be all. I’ll be back shortly.” 

Miyoung paces the room, dragging the equipment back to where it belongs. She eventually appears back at her desk, where Juntae and Seongje were sitting now, and fishes something out of her drawer. 

“Juntae-ah,” she says, sliding the compartment shut after obtaining a picture. “I’ve been keeping this for a while, but I think it would be a fun story to tell your new boyfriend while you guys wait.”

The boy blinks when she slides the photo on the table, revealing a little toddler in glasses, staring at the camera with a shocked expression. There’s a twin-sized bed at his back, covered in a polka-dot blanket, and Seongje could assume from the features this was a baby picture of when Juntae was a child. 

“This was me when I was six,” Juntae eventually says after the eerie silence between them both. “My dad took it and caught me off-guard, but he gives it to everyone he sees, boasting how proud he is of me.” 

“You don’t say,” Seongje says, slipping the photo in between his own fingers. It’s quite small, mostly a keepsake of sorts, and he holds it parallel to Juntae’s face to see just how much he had changed since he was a little child. 

He could outline some of the details with his failing eyes. The same puffy cheeks that slimmed out with age which were somehow bigger when he was a child, the pouty lips that now have the courage to talk back at Seongje. 

“You looked so damn cute…and still are so damn cute,” Seongje’s grin widens on instinct. 

“I wouldn’t say that…”

The door slides open, interrupting their little bonding session, and Seongje glares at the source of the intrusion. The woman smiles as she enters the room carrying two ginormous displays featuring a wide array of glasses.

“This is the fun part,” Miyoung says, placing them down carefully on her desk. “Whichever one suits your fancy…”

He curses Hwangmo underneath his breath again. If he hadn’t stolen his glasses, he’d just switch out the lens and keep his original frame, but no. He skims through the ones he usually wears, eyes on the soft oval-shaped frames and opulent circles to find glasses that fit right with his face shape. 

Before he could pick, Juntae snags one up himself, a square-shaped pair of glasses with a metallic rim before he holds it out for Seongje to try. “I think you’d look cute with this on…”

Seongje doesn’t trust his little princess much when it comes to things like these, but he surrenders and leans in closer to Juntae—as a tease and as a way for him to help him adorn these square-shaped spectacles. Seongje closes his eyes once he feels Juntae slide the glasses onto the bridge of his nose, and opens them up once again to see Juntae in all of his glory. 

Beautiful. 

With his vision back in full swing, he sees it all. The softening eyes staring up at him, fluttering when he examines if he had put them on without hurting him. The way his lips slightly parted and exposed some of his pearly whites, the way he could see the blood rush into his cheeks for the nth time after being tormented by his longing stare.

“S-Seongje-ya!” Juntae shies away. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Hmph,” Seongje leans back, letting his puppy breathe. He stares into the mirror perched up by the desk and tugs the glasses up. He likes it. It’s a little different from his old pair of glasses, but it wasn’t drastic, and was a nice fit to his face shape. 

“How about you, Juntae-ah? Would you like to keep the same frame as the ones you have on right now?”

“Yes, please,” he chimes before Seongje could object. But in reality, Geum Seongje was too enamoured at how cute his little puppy is to even disagree with his decisions. He takes off his spectacles and hands them over to Miyoung before she shuffles about. 

“You can keep it, by the way,” Miyoung mentions, looking at the man in red. “The photo, I mean.”

Seongje realizes he’s still staring at the small piece of paper on the desk, basking in its glory in his newfound vision. He eventually picks it up and pops open his phone case, shoving it behind his glass phone case for eyes to see. 

“You’re going to keep it there?” Juntae marvels. “It’s quite exposing…”

Seongje cocks his head to the side, staring back at his little lamb. “Well, I see no reason why I would hide, puppy.” 

—

Once Seongje closes the door to the clinic behind them, chiming the bell on the door, he feels the fresh summer breeze blow past him in a stir. Juntae feels the same crisp summer air engulfing his small frame, and turns to look at Seongje who has his hair blown in various directions. He ignores it and places an arm around his puppy, walking him back to the bus stop. 

“You wanna go anywhere else?”

“It’s late…we’d both miss curfew and I really don’t want to get punished.”

“Hm…but you’re not hungry?”

“Kind of, but it’s okay.”

“Not even some barbeque?”

Juntae’s stomach betrays his words of sincerity, growling at the mention of Korean barbeque. He curses the timing and feels Seongje harden his grip around his shoulders to reroute their walk. 

“But…I don’t have money!” Juntae tries, efforts futile after Seongje walks him in the direction to the nearest K-BBQ place. 

“You know that’s not a problem with me,” he smiles, “Besides, your doctor was kind enough to treat me for free, so I’m paying you back, puppy. It’s only fair.”

He sighs. “I told you I’m not hungry.”

“Oh? But that sound your soft tummy made earlier was just ached with hunger. You don’t want to down some bulgogi? Some good ol’ greasy pork belly dipped in sauce—”

Seongje hears Juntae’s stomach growl again at the mention of tantalizing food, and the puppy finally surrenders to Seongje’s teasing. “Fine, fine, okay! Let’s go..."

Chapter Text

The korean barbeque place is sizzling with excitement, chatter and liveliness. Seongje eyes an empty spot for them to sit given the peak hour, and he manages to snag one by the end of the shop by the kitchen, hoping the smell won’t be too strong. Juntae sighs, thinking about washing his clothes and the awful smell from them once he gets back to his dorm.

“I’ve heard good things about this place,” Seongje grins. “Although I’ve never been here before.”

Juntae feels like he recognizes this place, almost as if he’s been here before. He looks to the awfully familiar cart of bottles piled up by the fridge and the daggling smoke extractor in front of them.

When he hears familiar footsteps, he finally realizes why this place looked oh so familiar.

“Ah, Juntae-ya!” a voice echoes behind them both. “What can I get for you both?”

Juntae blinks up at the rowdy voice to see none other than a man in a bowl cut grinning back at him, his gaze specifically fixed on Seongje. The boy’s mood sours by the entrance of this man, ruining a perfectly good moment with him and his puppy. 

“Do we know you?” Seongje asks, eyeing him up and down. He looked like a regular worker here, so why was he being so friendly with Juntae?

“You don’t,” Suho smiles, before pointing his pen over to the boy beside him. “But this little fella here does.”

Seongje’s gaze narrows into a nasty glare. “You can back the fuck off. He’s my puppy.”

Suho throws his hands up in faux surrender, still holding his pen and paper in his right hand. “So possessive. You think you're so handsome and you get all the boys and girls, huh? You got the wrong idea, man. I’m taken. By another Eunjang princess, no less.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the newbie come out of the restaurant washroom, airpods in his ears, tuning out the loud noise of the sizzling barbecues and loud chatter. When his eyes fixate on Suho standing by Seongje and Juntae’s table, he contemplates running away but is beckoned by Suho to come to the table with that no-nonsense glare.

Sieun drags his feet to the table and Suho wraps his arm around his shoulder with a grin. “I was just about to clock out too since my coworker just came for his shift. What do we say about a double date, Geum Seongje?”

Sieun stares at Juntae’s dazed face before flickering back to Suho and Seongje staring at each other with daggers in their eyes. 

“Alright,” Seongje finally breaks the tension by plopping down on his seat, relaxing. “I’m down.”

“Good,” Suho smiles. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Suho leaves Sieun’s side, not before smacking his ass in front of Juntae and Seongje, starling the former and irritating the latter. Sieun has a look on his face that just screams he wants to disappear. 

He finally sits across from the couple, scooting out a chair. There’s a sense of awkwardness now that fills the air which is promptly cut off by laughter from the table with a bunch of girls.

“Sieun-ah,” Juntae tries to curb the awkwardness, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “What do you usually order here?”

“Just the samgyeopsal,” he voices out, barely audible over the sizzling grill. “I thought the jajangmyeon was nice the last time we tried it too…”

He trails off, his now fixated on a grinning Suho plopping himself down beside Sieun and wrapping his arms around his shoulder. “I ordered for us already! Trust me, I know this place inside and out, Geum.”

“Geum?” Seongje chuckles. “You’re getting awfully comfortable for someone who’s just met me, you know?”

“I’ve seen you on the court various times, let me tell you,” Suho sneers back. “You’re not a stranger to me, heartbreak prince.”

"I don't even know your name," he snaps back. "I know I'm a little too popular for my own good, but maybe you should introduce yourself next time instead."

"Ahn Suho," he smiles, ignoring the backhanded compliment. "It's nice to finally meet you, Geum Seongje." 

The food finally arrives, cutting off whatever Seongje was going to bite back at him with. His gaze is still fixated on Suho, despite the piling plates stacking up filled with juicy raw pork, marinated seafood and lettuce making its way to the table.

Suho takes the initiative, immediately grabbing his tongs and nabbing the pork from the plates, grilling them with a quick precision. “I’ll grill for us. You just sit back, Geum,” he says with a smile that reads more as a taunt.

Seongje sits back, staring at the way Suho grills the pork at high speed, being attentive enough not to char the poor meat but when it’s juicy and tender. He plates the pork slices on each of their plates—Sieun first, then Seongje, then Juntae—and takes a piece of lettuce from the tray. 

All of them know what he’s doing. He wraps one of the pork belly slices in said lettuce and shoves into Sieun’s face. “Eat up, baby, hyung will take care of the grilling,” he coos. “You had such a long day, right?” 

Suho’s deadly glare lands at the Ganghak man again, and Seongje swears he could see the corner of his lips curl up into a soft vicious smile. There’s a sense of dominance—the kind that tells you ‘ you’ll never be as cute as me and Sieun no matter how hard you tried.’

Seongje takes the initiative this time, grabbing the chopsticks and nabbing the pork Suho had given to Juntae, catching the boy off-guard. “Come here, puppy,” he says. “I’ll feed you.”

He does actually feed Juntae, for the very first time. It may also be because there’s a pair of eyes watching him like a hawk from across the table, but he also practically forces the pork belly into Juntae’s mouth too abruptly, causing him to cough out a storm. 

“Oh shit, puppy,” Seongje says, not missing how Suho is now grinning from ear-to-ear, enjoying every fumble Seongje makes. “I’m so sorry…”

He lifts up his chin after the coughing fit and sees how cute Juntae looks in the bright lights of the restaurant. A whiff of smoke blows his way from the grill itself before his eyes land on a certain sauce-covered stain on the corner of Juntae’s mouth.

He grins, planning his next move. “You’re so messy, pup,” he says, wiping away the sauce stains with his thumb and licking the excess off it. “I’ll be very gentle from now on, okay?”

Seongje doesn’t even need to dart his eyes to know that Suho attacks once again once he’s recovered from his slight shock—he pulls Sieun closer to him until the point where his left thigh is perched up on his lap, as he feeds him under lettuce-wrapped samgyeopsal. Sieun looks increasingly uncomfortable now, that even with his love for Suho, he does not want to be shown off in this way in front of one of his best friends and right now, a stranger. “Sieun-ah,” he coos. “Just relax and breathe.”

He doesn’t do that. Instead, the quiet boy stares back at Juntae whose mouth opens when Seongje eventually feeds him some of the marinated shrimp from the tray, which he uncomfortably downs, given it’s at a faster speed than how he usually eats.

“Guys…” Sieun cuts through, finally having enough. Suho stops when Sieun pushes away the lettuce that was basically touching his dry lips. “You’ve been fighting all night. Just stop it.”

“What are you talking about?” Suho exclaims. “He’s—”

“I don’t care what Seongje does,” Sieun says, annoyingly. “But clearly you do since you keep feeding me and staring at him.”

Suho’s eyes widened. “No, Sieun, baby, I didn’t mean—”

Juntae gets up off his seat too, visibly disappointed. “And Seongje-ya…I know you care for me and you want to show me affection. But you’re also using me as a pawn in whatever game you’re playing with Suho.”

“Puppy…” he starts off with a soft mutter, but Juntae was angry. 

“I don’t want to hear it! If Sieun didn’t say anything, we’d still be incredibly uncomfortable on this little playdate of yours. Have fun, then. Sieun and I will miss curfew by this point.”

Suho’s mouth goes agape seeing Juntae actually get mad and pissed off at this. He grabs Sieun and stalks to the door, leaving with a chime of a bell and nothing but a furious rage that lingers.

The silence envelops them again, this time riddled with regrets and unsaid apologies. They don’t even care about the pork belly that has practically charred on the grill, sizzling with whatever leftover fats injecting the air with a tangy aroma.

“We fucked up, didn’t we?” Suho breaks the silence, sighing down at the specks of flickering ash escaping the barbeque tray. 

“Yeah,” Seongje sighs, crossing his arms as an act of surrender and huffing out a breath. “We did.”

Chapter Text

The bus ride to Eunjang was eerily silent. 

Sieun was sitting by the window seat, staring out onto the street, almost as if he was deep in thought. Juntae had glanced over a few times to check to see if Sieun was really okay, but he seemed dejected. His eyes paint a thousand words, and right now all he sees in them is confusion and disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Sieun-ah.”

Juntae feels the man leaning by the window shift at those words, bringing him back to reality. He looks over at the boy pushing up his glasses after a small pause, as if he was waiting for him to say more.

“I’m sorry about how Seongje treated you,” Juntae clarified. “I don’t know what got into him.”

Sieun blinks. “I’m sorry too. Suho just wanted to use me tonight for that little game. Screw him.”

Harsh. Juntae never thought he’d hear those words come out of Sieun’s mouth regarding the topic of Ahn Suho, but this was the reality they were living in now, where they were both riding back to their dorms after a horrifically bad date and the feeling of being used.

“Either way, Juntae, don’t apologize. It’s their fault,” Sieun assures him. “If they’re sorry, they have to earn our trust back, not the other way around.”

Juntae lets out a deep breath, staring out at the night sky. He knows that Sieun and Suho will be fine; they have had a steady relationship since before Sieun had even moved to Eunjang. But him and Seongje? Would this be the hurdle that would end his relationship with the heartbreak prince once and for all?

It had only been a week or so into their relationship, and look at the state of it. If Juntae fed into the negative rumors he had been so privy to, he’d have to admit that the people were right. He wasn’t special. They wouldn’t last. Fights like these broke out naturally, and unlike Suho who would do anything to win back Sieun’s heart, he can’t say the same for Geum Seongje. 

He leans back on the headrest of the bus, trying to comfort himself through the heartbreak he was feeling crawling up his chest. He feels his eyes start to get watery but he roughly blinks them away, lest Sieun sees them and—

“You’re crying.”

The perks of having an observant best friend. 

Juntae lets out a soft little sigh before wiping his tears away with the sleeves of his polo shirt. “Sorry, I just…”

“Have some faith in him. He’ll come around.”

“...Do you really think that or are you just telling me that so I can feel better?”

Sieun turns his head, eyes now focused on the weeping little boy beside him. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the most optimistic person in the world. You know this about me. But…for what it’s worth, he’s trying.” 

Juntae doesn’t respond right away, as if he’s still registering Sieun’s words. 

“I just can’t bring myself to believe that, Sieun-ah. If he did, he wouldn’t treat me like that.” 

Seo Juntae was hurt. It wasn’t just because it was Geum Seongje, it was a myriad of emotions. Disappointment, rage, betrayal. The first hurdle that came with every relationship. It stung.

It was then Sieun decided maybe it was best for the rest of the bus ride to go on in silence.

—

The parking lot was desolate this time of night. It’s practically three in the morning and Seongje is here smoking his umpteeth cigarette trying to punish himself for how he treated Juntae in the restaurant, as if that was going to help.

Suho wasn’t taking it well either. He didn’t even want to go home afterwards, just lingered around the shop and helped out his coworkers even though he didn’t need to. Helped clear his mind from fucking up a well-intentioned date.

When Suho finally closes up for the evening, the creaking door slamming shut with the sound of jiggling locks, he turns his attention to the solemn man stubbing out the cigarette and reaching for another in the pack. 

“Woah there, man,” Suho says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “How many of those have you fucking smoked?”

“What’s it to you?” Seongje replies, too focused on lighting up his cigarette to care about how the man had taken a seat right next to him.

“Listen, Geum,” Suho sighs. “I know you’re beating yourself up over this because this is probably the first fight you and Juntae had, but seriously man…he would not like it if he saw you smoking a whole pack of cigarettes by yourself.”

Seongje takes a big puff of his cigarette, the orange embers burning dangerously close to his fingers, before he flicks it away. “Shit. You’re right.”

The night falls chillingly silent amongst the two men sitting in the empty parking lot. Seongje finally stopped smoking after a while, the place littered with cigarette buds.

“I thought you stayed at Ganghak,” Suho starts back again. “Isn’t it way past your curfew now?”

“I have my ways. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” Suho scoffs. “Because you always get your way, huh, pretty boy?”

Seongje doesn’t respond. His mind drifts to the flickering streetlights in front of him and the eerie noise of the night. He takes a look at the man sitting next to him, hunched over eyes wandering the dark sky just as he was.

“What about you, hm?” Seongje decides to feed his own curiosity. “Never thought I’d see a high schooler our age working a part-time job. You dropped outta school or something?”

“No,” Suho glares, but he understands where Seongje was coming from. “I still attend. Just tired as hell. I can’t believe I worked extra today…should’ve gotten some sleep.”

Seongje furrows his brows. “Why not just stay at Eunjang then? Would solve your issues if you just stayed at a boarding school.”

“My grandma,” Suho starts, then pauses for a second. “I have to take care of her. Besides, boarding schools aren’t for me. I like living by my own rules. Surely you understand, Geum.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I understand.”

Suho jiggles his motorcycle keys, contemplating deeply. “I still don’t know if my plan on making this up to Sieun would even work. And I still hate your fucking guts, but we gotta work together.”

Seongje scoffs, shoving his hands back in his windbreaker. “What do you propose then?”

“I could go buy a box of chocolates at the convenience store, write up a note to say sorry. The only issue is finding a way to get it into Eunjang.” 

A grin forms on Seongje’s face. “I happen to know someone who can pass that message to the people in need.” 

Suho returns the smile. “Then I suppose we have a plan.” 

—

Sieun turns around his bed, the rough stomping on hardwood floors and the morning rush makes him jolt himself awake. He immediately reaches out for his phone, before finding out he forgot to charge it because of the rush of last night. 

He looks at his digital alarm clock on the study table. It’s 7:45, and neither him nor his passed out roommate on the top bunk is dressed or ready for class yet. 

They’re fucked.

“Juntae!” Sieun rarely yells, but in this instance he has to. “We’re running late. Get up.”

“Hm?” Juntae stirs, rubbing his eyes. “What?”

“We overslept,” Sieun is already changing out of his pajamas in a rush. “We have to get ready.”

Juntae blinks away the sleepiness before it all rushes back in. The late night bus ride, the disappointments from their boyfriends, the smell of barbeque still on his body that he hasn’t washed away due to the urgency of curfew. He flips the blanket away from his body in a flash, eyes immediately darting over to the alarm clock as well, squinting to make out the blurry red numberings on the screen.

“Oh my god!” Juntae exclaims. “We’re going to be late!”

“You don’t need to repeat what I said,” Sieun mutters, but he understands the urgency. He throws Juntae’s glasses onto the top bunk and rushes out the room with his toothbrush in hand. 

Juntae blinks. Should he just skip class? Resign his fate as the boyfriend who overslept over a bad date? 

He decides that today is not that day. Screw it if Geum Seongje wanted to ruin his date, even better if he wanted a break up, but he was not going to go to class like this—messy and boycrazy.

He plops down the ladder once again, and rampages through the laundry for his uniform. He manages to get on a fit, draping his outer uniform over whatever he had on, and reaches for his backpack. 

“Juntae, you’re not ready yet?”

He turns his head around the door to see a redhead dressed in uniform, red jersey peeking out, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He furrows his brows at the commotion, before rushing to pack his things for class. 

“No,” Juntae mutters, slipping on his socks. “Long story, Baku! Tell you about it later!”

Somehow, through all the trials and tribulations, Juntae and Sieun managed to get to class on time—hair unkempt, uniforms ruffled, and tired dark circles around their eyes. It doesn’t take long for Baku to stare at their dejected states and turn back to whisper to Hyuntak.

“Is it just me or are they insanely tired?” he whispers, detective mode on. 

“Yeah,” Hyuntak says, crossing his arms and trying to take a sneak peek into their slumped bodies on the desk. “Do we think they had a bad date?”

“I told you Seongje was bad news.” 

“Well, I know that,” Hyuntak replies harshly. “But look at Sieun…he isn’t faring well either. Suho always takes him home well before curfew. And last night, they came back at the same time.” 

Baku gasps, snapping his fingers. “Do we think Geum Seongje corrupted our Suho!?”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” Hyuntak blinks, bewildered. He doesn’t have time to entertain his friend’s foolishness before the pair dart their eyes to the front of the room to see none other than Hyoman, still battered and bruised from Seongje slide into the classroom awkwardly.

He walks warily to Juntae and Sieun’s table, hands trembling with two heart-shaped boxes in hand, body swaying with nervousness. 

It doesn’t take long before Sieun shoots up a death glare at him first, already disturbed by the footsteps that had approached him. Hyoman swallows down before immediately stuttering. “Uh…uh…someone special wanted to leave you two with some apology gifts!” 

He places them on Sieun’s desk before bolting the hell out of that room as if the devil himself were after him. Juntae finally stirs awake again, lifting his tired head from his desk when he sees Sieun hand him a box of chocolates. “From Seongje.”

He blinks. “S-Seongje?”

“Guess they thought apology gifts were the way to win us over,” Sieun mutters before ripping the note off the metallic box and reading it. 

Juntae stares at his own apology gift, shocked that it even managed to end up on his desk. He opens up the letter taped to the box, half expecting Seongje to just half-ass an apology, but it turned out to be full-length and handwritten:

Puppy,

I’m sorry how I treated you last night. I know it wasn’t right to do any of that to you, and I want to let you know I’m really fucking sorry. 

You were right. I used you. That wasn’t how the date was supposed to go but it happened. Give me a second chance? I promise…I won’t disappoint 

— Geum Seongje xoxo

“Damn, he wrote all that?”

“Baku!” 

Juntae jumps out of his seat, trying his best to hide the letter from the redhead and, shockingly, his companion. They both had a shocked look on their faces, almost as if they never expected an apology letter to begin with. 

“Who taught you guys to sneakread letters?!” Juntae retorts, holding the box of chocolates close to his chest. 

“Sorry,” Hyuntak replies, “We just wanted to know what was going on…”

“Then just ask me!” Juntae whisper-shouts, face going red. “I’m going to go shove this in my locker…”

He brushes past a sorry Hyuntak and a pouty Baku, before he storms out of the room in a hurry. Sieun doesn’t even spare them a sorry glance before going back to focus on his letter. 

Juntae skips down the stairs, trying his best to forget this ever happened. He practically stumbles over his feet before he gets to where his locker is, and starts to turn the dial.

He just didn’t expect the bell to toll. 

Right. He was already running late, and he forgot to check the time. The fact that there were barely any students in the hallways should’ve sent distress signals that it was almost classtime, but he had been too preoccupied by the gift and Seongje in general. 

He curses his luck. If any of the teachers see him here, he’s going to be in a whole lot of trouble. 

“Psst!”

Juntae cocks his head to the source of the sound, and he sees none other than the infamous Geum Seongje hiding in an empty classroom. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

“Shhh! Get in.” 

He doesn’t have time to question his antics, just follows Seongje’s lead. He doesn’t even want to know how he got into Eunjang without getting questioned, because he was still wearing his blazing red uniform and had the Ganghak pendant hanging from his neck with pride. 

“Wanna tell me why you were skipping class?” he whispers, smug. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re snooping around Eunjang?” 

“I didn’t trust that Choi Hyoman would not poison your chocolates, so I came to see it in person.”

“So you skipped school to make sure I got a non-poisoned apology gift from you?” Juntae sneers. “I’m flattered.” 

Seongje sighs. “Are you still mad at me?”

“What do you think?” Juntae retorts. “You sat me up there last night like I was some sort of prize to be shown off!” 

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise.” 

Juntae pauses. “Who thought of buying the chocolates? You or Suho?”

Seongje bites down on his lip. “It was Suho.”

“Knew it.” 

“Wait, puppy,” Seongje says, grabbing his hand. “I meant what I wrote in that letter. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or hurt you, but I did. I’m sorry. But can you give me a second chance?”

Juntae takes a deep breath. “Okay…because it’s our first fight. And…you’re trying.” 

Seongje perks his lips up to a smile. “Thank you.” 

The bell tolls again, to remind students that school is officially in session. Seongje smiles before staring at Juntae. “Want to skip class?”

“Not really. But I would get my ass beat if I showed up to class now, so maybe we should hide away…I know a place.”

Skipping class was not a common thing for someone like Seo Juntae. Of course, with a little bit of influence from his troublemaker boyfriend, it becomes something he’s currently doing. He allows for Seongje to take lead, scouting out the area for any lingering teachers waiting to catch them in the act—and boy, was he a professional. They manage to sneak out at the back of the school unscathed, almost as if two kids who had done it so routinely. 

“Where are we going?” Seongje grins, successfully moving away from any prying eyes at Eunjang. 

“It’s a secret,” Juntae says. “Well, not really, but this project of ours is only exclusive to me and Tak-ah.”

That soured Seongje’s mood. “Yah, I’m dating you. Why are you having side projects with other men?”

“It’s not what you think,” Juntae replies, before heaving out a sigh. His boyfriend’s jealousy will be the very bane of his existence. “Just come, you’ll see.”

They slip past the corridors, the basketball court and the swimming pool, glistening in the sunlight. Imprints of leaves from the trees above them cast shadows that fade onto their skin as Juntae leads Seongje once again, this time to a place he considers sacred. 

The garden. It’s still sunny out, yet the length of the trees above them provide perfect shading from the heat, the open-air being enough for them to breathe in as a reminder that they’re together. 

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Seongje says, blinking at the barren garden. Juntae thinks if they were in a movie, a tumbleweed would roll past them due to the sheer disappointment in Seongje’s voice. 

“It was way worse than this,” Juntae shakes his head. “But me and Tak-ah agreed that we would try to regrow everything from scratch, and, well, this is what we have so far.”

A gust of wind blows past them, ruffling the marigolds and lavender. Juntae takes a seat by the metallic fences, leaning onto the rusty metal curls as he slowly unboxes Seongje’s apology gift to him. He places the apology note in his uniform as a keepsake, something he’ll cherish later on as one of the firsts in his relationship. 

“We got the most expensive chocolates we could find,” Seongje interjects from beside him. “Even though it was Suho’s idea, I still made sure they were of good quality.”

Juntae gives him a half-hearted smile before opening the box of chocolates. It was what you’d expect from the price; a large assortment of chocolates. Juntae’s eyes immediately dart to the strawberry drizzled chocolates in the corner which screamed to be his favorite, and warily picks them up.

He turned around to see Seongje staring at the box like a little puppy, clearly wanting to steal some of the goodness for himself. He obviously is trying his best to forbid himself from the delicacy, but Juntae chuckles at his attempts of nonchalance before fishing out one of the random chocolates. “Here.” 

“No,” he responds. “It’s for you.” 

“I’m not finishing this on my own, Seongje-ya.”

He stares at the chocolate—slightly melted in Juntae’s hand. It was a heart-shaped plain dark chocolate, and whether or not Juntae knew that Seongje was eyeing this specific piece, it still made him happy deep inside. 

He takes the piece before it fully melts into Juntae’s palm and shoves it in his mouth, teeth cracking the sweet candy with ease, before sliding down right beside Juntae. “Thanks.”

“Mm.”

Juntae stares onto the flowers now, the box of chocolates discarded by his side as he had already picked out a few he’d wanted to eat. 

“Why the marigolds?”

“It reminds me of Tak-ah…”

Juntae doesn’t have to turn around to see how Seongje grits his teeth by the mention of Hyuntak’s name. “But…but that’s how we do it. We plant flowers that we think represent each other. That’s why I wanted to bring you here.”

Seongje quirks up an eyebrow. “So what flower do you think represents me?”

Juntae blinks. The answer, in his eyes, is obvious, but Seongje doesn’t think the same way as him, or so it seemed.

“I think you know…”

“No, I don’t think I do, little puppy,” he grins, confidence back in full swing now the apology has gone live. “Tell me. What flower do you think I am?”

Juntae sighs, squirming away from his gaze. “A rose.”

It was clear as day. Beautiful, daring, romantic. Yet the thorns can prick and bruise you if you weren’t careful. That was the epitome of Geum Seongje.

“So you’re going to plant roses for me?” Seongje chuckles. “How romantic.”

Juntae rolls his eyes. “I’m compelled not to do so anymore…”

“Aww,” Seongje’s smile creases up in the corners of his lips, and Juntae tries to blink that image away. “Won’t you do it for me? My lovely puppy?”

“Fine…but you’re buying the seeds then.”

“Ahh, I can’t wait until this garden blooms with roses. Ones that my boyfriend planted specifically because of me.”

Juntae was really regretting bringing him to the garden now.

Chapter Text

[@gsxxxje]

hey puppy ;)

i think its time

pick u up after school 

[@seojuntae]

????

where are we going?

[@gsxxxje]

where else

ganghak obviously

i’ve been over at ur shitty school but you’ve never been to my kingdom

[@seojuntae]

wait!

i’m not even ready to meet your friends yet!!!

[@gsxxxje]

its okay ;)

i’ll beat up anybody who tries to talk to you

it’ll be like a little playdate

promise puppy ;)

[@seojuntae]

you use that wink excessively and u barely wink at me irl

[@gsxxxje]

my little puppy actually knows how to bark back now

where was this audacity when i first met u, hm?

[@seojuntae]

because i know you now!

you’re like a regular jock playboy

[@gsxxxje]

that’s the kinda word u would use to describe ur dumbass friend baku

not me

im ur prince charming 

[@seojuntae]

……..

[[@gsxxxje]

anyways

get ready

ill pick u up at 4 

—

Juntae locks his phone and rubs the sleep away from his eyes. He sits up on his pillow, letting the blanket fall from his chest to his hips. It should be to no one’s surprise that Seongje chose a Friday out of all the days to pull this on Juntae, knowing damn well he spent his weekends at his dorm because it wasn’t worth the hassle to travel a couple hundred miles away to a place called home every weekend.

Sieun walks in through the door, with Suho on speakerphone, but this was routine. Juntae knows it means Suho was ready to end the call if he had returned to the dorm room, and sure enough, he hung up just moments over. 

Juntae lets out a shy ‘ahh…’ before going completely silent. He needs to muster up the courage.

“Sieun-ah?”

“Yeah?”

“What was your first time with Suho like?”

Sieun blinks, a wave of silence immediately washing into the room. Juntae’s cheeks grow pink, and he shakes away the feeling of regret mixed in with embarrassment. “I…I mean…”

“It’s okay to ask,” Sieun reassures. “Just…what’s the occasion? Is Seongje coming here? Please don’t fuck on my bed.”

“No!” Juntae immediately retorts, “It’s nothing like that, swear! He just told me that… he was picking me up to go to Ganghak…”

“Ah…” Sieun mutters. “And you guys talked about it?”

“Well…” Juntae trails off, thinking about what Seongje truly wants out of this. “No, but…I’m pretty sure that he’s…going to try something.”

“Juntae-ya…”

“I know, I’m not ready for anything like that just yet. It’s just a precaution, you know? I don’t want to…”

Sieun stops him from trailing off, climbing their bunk bed ladder and plopping himself at the end of his bunk bed. Juntae immediately sits up, meeting Sieun’s worried gaze, and he flushes. 

“It’s time to have that conversation then,” he says, almost as if he knows all too well. “Let’s do it.”

—

When the bell tolls signifying that it was after school, the Eunjang boys make their way to the cafeteria for some afternoon snacking and hanging out like they usually do. It’s just that Juntae had been worrying about studying and the quizzes and the future exams he had to take, until the point where he realized he hadn’t told Humin and Hyuntak yet about sleeping over at Ganghak. 

He just doesn’t know when to break it. Would it be when Baku finally shuts down from all the maniacal laughter, that moment of brief respite the right time to interrupt? Or is it when Hyuntak trails off about some basketball topic or a personal record he’d beat when he was out jogging in the afternoon. 

It didn’t matter, because Juntae cleared his throat anyway and all eyes darted to him. 

“Guys, I…” Juntae starts. “I’m spending the night at Ganghak…”

Humin’s mouth goes agape, the spoonful of pork radish spilling out onto his lap with a stare that indicates dismay and horror. “What?”

“You…” Hyuntak blinks, clearly stunned by this himself. “You said no, right, Jun-ah, ha-ha…”

“No…” Juntae shakes his head. “I told him yes. He’s picking me up at four. I’m sorry I didn’t you guys sooner, I was so busy with the pre-cal practices and—”

“Juntae Protection Squad!” Humin yells as he thrusts up from his seat, slamming the cafeteria table and alarming the resident Eunjang students minding their own business. “Assemble! Officer Go Hyuntak, are we in?”

“Yah, what is this?” Hyuntak laughs at his friend’s absurdity. “Jun-ah, are you sure about this? You’re…spending the night with him?”

Juntae nods. “I think it’s time. We’ve been dating for over a month now, right?”

“Damn, time passed by that fast?!” Baku scratches his head. “It was almost yesterday you were drooling over him at our basketball game…”

Two snaps in the air before eye contact was made, and there was no stopping them now. 

“THE GAMEPLAN!” it rang through the entire hollow cafeteria, sending vibrations to the dusty ceiling fans above them that haven’t been spun in decades. 

“Yeah,” Juntae deadpans and repeats their words with less enthusiasm. “The gameplan…”

“I have no problem with him going, do you?” Humin turns to Hyuntak and he rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t care about it as much as you,” Hyuntak scoffs. “But just…stay safe, Jun-ah…you’re not in our dormitory, so we can’t protect you if anything bad happens.”

Juntae nods. “I’ll take care of myself. Besides…with Seongje there, it can’t be that bad, right?”

Humin and Hyuntak wince at that comment in unison. “I would argue it’s worse with him there…”

“YO! IS THAT A FUCKING FERRARI?”

Juntae burrows his head in his hands when he hears loud hip-hop music blaring through car speakers and the sound of an engine revving pour into the cafeteria. It was almost as if it was a statement, that anything Geum Seongje did was not discreet, but for the world to marvel and gaze at endlessly. 

Within a minute, he manages to sling his backpack filled with toothpaste, toothbrushes, towels and other amenities he might need over his shoulder before meeting the one and only Geum Seongje. 

There’s tons of Eunjang kids surrounding his red Ferrari now, snapping pictures of the wheels and color design—most likely to post and boast about how insane this model is or whatever car enthusiasts do. It was none of Juntae’s concern, anyway. 

“Hey, puppy,” he says, winking. He's wearing his sunglasses and taking them off to do a wink. “Down for a ride?”

Juntae smiles. “Of course, Seongje-ya.”

—

When they arrive at Ganghak, Juntae marvels at their boarding school structure. It was very akin to Eunjang in various ways, just dressed and labelled in different colors. 

Seongje drops Juntae off at the basketball court before finding a parking space, telling him to relax and enjoy his time exploring the Ganghak campus. There were many things about it that he’d love, like how the trees and flowers were more flourishing here, how the basketball courts were more lively. 

He sat down on the bench by the side of the basketball court, sweeping away excess dirt and wood just in case, as he gazed on a basketball game that’s been happening. He was lost in it for about five minutes before he saw two delinquents approach him from the corner of his eye, and he prayed and prayed that they did not bother him. 

Bother him they did. 

They sat by him side-to-side. Blood marks, tattoos, scars from fist fighting…one of them was a redhead, but much brighter than you could say how Humin dyed his hair. They stare at Juntae menacingly, and he is immensely uncomfortable. Should he be matching their gazes? What do they want from him?

“Yah…you’re Eunjang’s lovestruck princess, right?”

Juntae blinks. “I’m…what?!”

“That’s what we’ve all been calling you, you little Eunjang,” the redhead’s friend coughs. “Too bad. I guessed right…”

“What do you…”

“You’re just an Eunjang nobody,” the Ganghak delinquent scoffs, “When Seongje’s done with your ass, I bet he’s going for another cute girl way above your league.” 

“...Why?” Juntae asks, pensive. He wants to know too, because deep down he’d always question himself. Was he lovable? Why would Geum Seongje out of all people choose to date him? 

“Why what, you wimp?” the redhead delinquent laughs as his friend ruffles his hair in a mocking manner, smiling when his hair splits up into a multitude of directions. 

“Why do you guys think he chose me? What’s so special about me? An Eunjang nobody…”

Laughter erupts and Juntae lowers his eyes down in shame. He’s reminded of how Hyoman used to make him feel, so tiny and fragile, almost as if he didn’t deserve a spot in the place he was in. He wasn’t welcome in Eunjang…and it turns out he’s not welcome here either.

“I don’t know,” the one who ruffled his hair spits, then brings up a hand to pinch his cheek. “You’re cute though. Maybe he just wants to use you for sex?”

“Yeah, definitely,” they laugh, and Juntae still has his eyes lowered to avoid any confrontation. “He probably likes fucking cute boys like you. Once he’s done with you, you’re back to being an Eunjang nobody.”

“Can’t wait until that day comes,” the redhead chuckles. “We’re so sick about hearing lovestruck princess this and that…we’re all waiting for the da—“

He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence before a nasty punch glides across his face, and Juntae couldn’t even register what was happening. The bully beside him immediately jumps back from the sudden intrusion before pairs of feral eyes glare at his direction.

It was almost instantaneous. Juntae gasps when he sees the redhead beside him get tackled, his instincts moving him away from the commotion before feasting his eyes on the scene.

Seongje.

His vermillion blazer is the first thing that Juntae registers when he sees the attack on his intimidator. The flurry of punches were next, every single thud smashing down on his skull, and Juntae sweats he sees blood splatters on the cement. 

Seongje grabs the man by the collar when he’s done berating his face and chugs him at his other friend laying on the floor, both of them writhing in pain. Everyone has turned to Seongje now—almost like a pin drop could be heard throughout the whole schoolyard—the people on the basketball court stopped playing, the people peering from their windows to see the fight happening.

“What did you fuckers say to my puppy?”

“S—Seongje, we…”

He stomps on the redhead’s face, a strained yelp coming out of his mouth before Seongje presses his friend even further. “Tell me everything you said about him or I will crack his skull.” 

“We…” the bully grovels. “We just told him we were tired of the lovestruck princess haunting Ganghak! Maybe you’re just using him as a plaything, for sex maybe!” 

He lets go of his footing on the redhead’s neck and drives a kick into his friend’s stomach, earning a pained groan before he topples down to the floor. "I'm not fucking done with you assholes yet, just you wait," he snarls before rushing up to grab Juntae by his wrists and bolts out of there, clearly dissatisfied. 

“We’re heading to my dorm room, no questions.” 

“O…okay…”

—

“Fuck!” Seongje screams, kicking open the door. “I should’ve known…I should’ve…”

“Seongje-ya…” Juntae furrows his brows at his outburst and places a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fucking fine!” Seongje slams the door, and it startles Juntae, getting brief flashbacks to when Hyoman had his outbursts. “What they said about you, it’s all fucking bullshit, all of it!” 

“...Is it?”

“What?”

Juntae gulps down his worries. “They’re right, you know? About me? Maybe you just want me for sex.”

“Puppy, I seriously don’t want to get angry with you.”

“Then maybe you should,” Juntae raises his voice, and Seongje purses his lips. “Because I’m getting mixed signals from you, Seongje-ya. You…you call me here to Ganghak clearly for the purpose of sleeping with you right? You chose it on a Friday and all…and your roommate isn’t even in the room.”

“No…I…” Seongje hesitates, and that was enough confirmation for Juntae to snap back.

“You see?!” Juntae’s voice reaches a peaking point now. “So what am I, Seongje-ya? Your little boytoy? Your plaything? Someone you get to fuck once and break up with so you could say you took me too?”

“Have you thought about shutting the fuck up sometimes?” 

Juntae scoffs. “So this is the real you…the one everyone told me to stay wary of. Look at yourself…”

“Puppy!” Seongje shouts out of pure frustration. “I don’t even know why you would listen to those fuckers, they don’t know anything about what I want! I chose you, Juntae, I—”

“That’s the issue! I don’t get why you’d choose me!” Juntae shouts in a flurry. “I’m…I’m like they said. I’m an Eunjang nobody. I’m not good at studying like Sieun-ah…I’m not good at sports like Baku-ya…I’m not even friendly and sociable like Tak-ah…I’m pathetic and worthless and—”

Cigarettes. 

That’s what he tastes in his mouth when he feels calloused hands envelop his reddening cheeks, and he realizes way too late that Seongje had stolen his first kiss. He pulls away, a string of silvery saliva glistening in the bright overhead lights of the dorm room before it slowly ruptures, and Juntae matches his doe-eyes up at Seongje’s quivering, shifting from anger to worry in a snap of a finger. 

The look of a man who fucked up. 

“I…Shit, puppy, I’m…I’m so sorry—”

It was Juntae this time who kissed him back, his soft hands wrapping around his neck and standing on his tippy-toes, reciprocating the gesture. It takes Seongje by surprise, his wide-eyed gaze and his body slightly jolting in shock, but only for a split second. The moment Geum Seongje knew Seo Juntae wanted this, there was no more restraint or obstacle in this game of love. 

He pulls away from the kiss, before grabbing both of his puppy’s thighs and propping them up on his hips, eliciting a little moan when he envelops him into another passionate kiss once again. Their glasses clash for the third time—and he decides enough is enough, tearing off his glasses and throwing them on the table. 

Juntae’s grip on Seongje was loosening, as if his nape was as slippery as rubber, but he tries to take his glasses off too only to be stopped by Seongje himself. He carries Juntae to his gaming chair, plopping down on it with a thud and the creaking sounds as the chair flexes back vibrates through the space. 

He's as tender as he can be. Seongje pries off the glasses from Juntae’s face, seeing him in all of his glory without the spectacles blocking the view of his handsome puppy. “You’re so much more handsome without them,” he comments, sliding Juntae up his thighs. “I’ve noticed that since when we got our glasses done…”

“And you…” Juntae trails off, being unable to look at Seongje in this state. He’s so raw and naked, every detail close enough for Juntae to examine in full detail. How his lips part in desire, how the stubble hasn’t been shaved off properly, how delicate his eyes gaze upon him. “You look so…so fucking handsome…”

Seongje quirks his lips up into a smile, seeing the red immediately blossoming around Juntae’s cheeks. “Do I? You like me without my glasses on, huh puppy?” 

“I…”

“Seo Juntae,” Seongje continues, remembering to stay on topic. “I don’t care whether or not you study well or play basketball or socialize…that’s not things I look for. You’re…” he chuckles, almost as if it’s funny. “You’re the first person to show genuine care for me.”

“What?” Juntae is appalled. “How…what do you mean?”

“The girls that I dated…my friendships here…you’ve seen it, most of them are just using me. Either they fear my authority and power, or they just want to utilize it for themselves. It gets lonely, puppy, it does. I don’t have anybody to lean on. My family are a bunch of shitheads, my friends stab me in the back, and my relationships end up as flings…”

Juntae’s pitiful expression shoots a bullet through Seongje’s heart, and he feels himself slightly tear up at the sudden show of vulnerability. “Shit. I’m not good at this. At…at feeling stuff…I fucking hate it.”

“Me too,” Juntae replies, leaning over him and bringing up a thumb to wipe the tear falling from his right eye. “But it’s healthy to let it out like this once in a while. It means you’re human, Seongje-ya.” 

Human. Seongje tends to forget that, putting on such a facade, indulging in his thrill-seeking tendencies that he partakes in to dull out the emotions he wouldn’t dare to feel anyday, that deep-down he was just a human being just like anyone else. He reserved that right to feel. 

Another tear runs down his cheek, this time on his left, and Juntae wipes that away too. He has the softest smile on his face, so pure and innocent as he tends to his emotional outpour. Seongje despises that he is the one to defile that innocence, to shear this poor lamb by the rigidness of his teeth, leaving him barren and naked on the wayside. 

“Puppy,” he embraces Juntae now, fighting back tears. “I will always choose you. I will always choose this over anything else. You’ve shown me what it’s like to have someone care about you, to love you. I wouldn’t trade this for anyone else. You matter to me.”

Juntae’s eyes wobble as tears start to form around his lower eyelids. “I don’t want to lose you, Seongje-ya. I don’t want it to end the way the prophecy describes it. Because if so, I want to save myself. I’m going to leave Ganghak and block your number and forget what we had.”

A droplet of his tears falls on Seongje’s right cheek, and the wolf lets it fall. He has his hands wrapped around Juntae’s shoulders, gentle and fragile, almost as if moving could damage him. He stares into his puppy’s emotional turmoil with a troubled expression on his face, as if it’s his empathetic face. 

“But I can’t,” Juntae’s lips tremble, and he sees another tear droplet fall onto Seongje’s left cheek when he takes another shaky breath, his heart resounding in his chest. 

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you, Geum Seongje. Please…please don’t break my heart. Please allow me to love you for who you are, allow me to be your last. Because I don’t want to live in a reality where you’re just another man I used to know.”

Seongje pulls him in closer, fingers running softly in his hair, embracing his small frame as he sobs into his undershirt. “I will,” he whispers, as another choked-out sob vibrates through the air. “I promise.”

That sealed it. 

Even though deep down—Seongje knew it was a promise he didn’t know he could fulfill, or how Juntae could hear the uncertainty behind how he said it, they took it as their temporary vow—that the heartbreak prince was not going to leave his newfound lovestruck princess devastated and alone. 

Juntae’s sobs start to die down by the minute, and Seongje feels his shirt growing wetter. There’s a massive stain left by tears at his chest, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest—just a small price to pay for a rare moment of candor. 

With his head still buried in Seongje’s clothes, Juntae holds out his left pinky, trying to gauge Seongje’s line of sight. “Swear?” he says, muffled into the fabric of his shirt and the man could only chuckle at the cute gesture. He shuffles around to free his arm from Juntae snuggling him, linking his right pinky to complete the promise.

"Swear."

Chapter Text

When Juntae finally wakes, his first breath of Ganghak air alerts him that he is in unfamiliar territory. It’s a little more tangy and smoky, probably because Seongje smokes in here and hides it from the teachers. He turns from his side and lays on his back, blinking his eyes open to the sight of the top bunk above him which almost makes him jolt from the unfamiliarity. 

His eyes flit around the room afterwards, firstly falling on the crimson red blankets that he has covering his body. He carefully flips it over, making sure to not damage Seongje’s property. Juntae still hasn’t taken a good look at his dorm room, too occupied by cradling Seongje in his arms during their emotional conversation that just took place hours ago. 

Posters litter the walls, of bands he does not know, and of video game characters he is unfamiliar with. He squints, his line of sight blurry only before realizing his glasses weren’t on his face. Juntae sluggishly looks for his glasses, before remembering it was on the shared table between him and Hwangmo. He rubs his eyes and moves out of Seongje’s bed. 

The door clicks open, catching him in surprise. Seongje enters, still sporting his black undershirt with the tiger imprint, as his eyes fixate on the Eunjang boy. “Ahh, you’re awake, puppy?”

Juntae doesn’t reply; just softly nods as a confirmation. It’s a little awkward, because they both can’t disregard what they just had. It was vulnerable. It was rare. Juntae could have never dreamed of having that reciprocation, shedding his tears and voicing his fears to the man who now fathoms the deepest parts of his soul. 

Seongje walks on over to his direction, his glasses in hand. Juntae extends a hand to reach out for his own spectacles, but Seongje kneels down on one knee and slowly slides the pair of glasses on his face, setting it on his nose bridge. 

Before he could cherish the moment any longer, almost as if life was making mockery out of him, a gnarly growl echoes through the open air and he curses his tummy once again. 

“Hungry?”

“Unfortunately…”

He searches for his phone, hands frantically feeling on the mattress and blankets of this foreign bed, before wrapping his fingers around his personal cell. Juntae checks the time—2:44AM, and he wonders why the hell Seongje isn’t asleep yet when it’s almost the devil’s hour.

He hears the jiggling of keys, and his eyes dart to see Seongje grab the keys to his ride. The bright splash of red doesn’t slip him by, and he is stunned by the luxury. “You know, I still haven’t fully paid you back for that disastrous date.”

“You mean…what happened at the barbeque?”

“Yep. So let’s go out and find something to eat, hm?”

Juntae rubs at his soft stomach before another growl, now softer and less vengeful, roars through as he sighs. “Fine…I just…I don’t know what to eat…”

“Let’s just get outta here. You seriously want to be holed up in my dorm room? The most romantic time to have a date is always at night, pup,” Seongje curls his lips up into a grin, and Juntae sees the bravado return to Seongje. It was indescribable seeing Ganghak’s heartbreak prince like that, shedding tears and pouring his heart out. He’s not used to it. 

If Juntae were honest with himself, he’s used to seeing Seongje when he’s cocky and conceited. 

And if he were really honest with himself, he likes him best that way. 

“Mm,” Juntae replies, mindlessly lost in thought, but reality pulls him back, willing him to use his words. “You’re right. I also had a really good nap, too…”

Seongje pulls the windbreaker over his black undershirt, the imprint of the tiger slowly being covered by the bright orange fabric he had chosen to adorn his own physique. He zips it up almost fully before shoving his hands in the pockets of his outerwear, leaning back and staring at his puppy sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You didn’t get my pillow wet, did you?”

“What? No…” Juntae says, coming out confident but a wary hand still reaches to feel for any wet stains on his pillow. Seongje lets out a laugh, not maniacal, not cocky, just a laugh that sounds like Seongje meant it from his heart.

It’s warm. Real. It resonates with authenticity, as if he’s truly happy, not born out of ridicule or amusement. 

“Let’s go, Juntae. The night is still young.”

—

The smell of roses floods through his senses when he slides into the passenger car seat. His fingers make contact with the leather seats, tracing the pattern of the supple material as he shuffles to get comfortable. Once the car door closes, the vehicle immediately lights up, making noises that Juntae was not accustomed to before he starts the engine with a jolt. 

Seongje is very proud of his beauty, as she thrums, finding her rhythm and falling into a steady melodic tune. He wears a smirk on his face now, hand gliding to the gear shift before putting the car into drive. “Buckle up,” he says, and Juntae jumps up slightly when he realizes he forgot to put on his seatbelt.

Once the seatbelt clicks, Seongje presses on the accelerator and steers the car out of its parking spot. Sooner or later, Juntae sees the familiar streetlights once the car traverses through rocky concrete, and once he speeds off, he sees them flashing—is the car getting faster?

“Slow down, Seongje-ya!” Juntae says, fear starting to permeate his voice. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Seongje smiles, the white blinding lights outlining his jawline and that cocky smile he wears on his lips, still not yet to the point of showing his canine teeth. “You should enjoy this with me…”

He takes one hand off the wheel and focuses on rolling down the windows. Specifically, the windows that befall on Juntae’s side. There’s a whirring sound in the air now, before a gust of wind enters the car from the outside and blows through Juntae’s hair. It was unkempt before—frazzled from the relentless teasing and only worsening after the confession and the inopportune midnight nap. Juntae gasps at the sudden opening, before turning to Seongje, who was trying to hold back a laugh. “Wind down the windows! I’m…”

“It’s part of the fun, puppy,” Seongje says, teasing. “Enjoy yourself. It’s rare you’d get to ride like this with someone else.”

He’s right. Juntae is inherently scared, but Seongje looks so capable, so assured in himself. Juntae allows himself to indulge. He feels the fresh air blow past his face, his hair flowing in waves of uncertainty, flipping and flowing through as the constricted airflow could only toss and turn the follicles on his head. He leans his head back on the car seat, closing his eyes for a brief moment and breathes in the summer air. 

He opens them back up again in a few seconds, and turns to the man staring at him in the driver’s seat. His gaze lingers on him, like a man fascinated by beauty and art, savoring every moment his eyes make contact with such a tantalizing masterpiece.

Juntae squints when he sees the red lights reflect on his glasses, before darting his eyes to the scene in front of him. “It’s a red light!” 

“Ah shit,” he curses, managing to step on the brakes and stop his beauty in time before she ran through the red light and risked him a ticket. Once the car screeches and plops down, which Juntae lets out an umph, he sees Seongje mutter another curse under his breath, probably stunned and grateful that Juntae had caught it before he did.

“What happened to ‘I know what I'm doing?’”

“Not my fault you have such a pretty face, puppy. Besides, I don’t even know why there’s still traffic lights at 3 in the fucking morning!”

Under normal circumstances, Juntae would blush or shy away, but he’s not letting this slide. “We could’ve crashed and died if it was daytime, Seongje-ya. Please…”

“Okay, okay,” Seongje relents, tapping his hands on the wheel as he waits for the red light to turn green. He moves his hand to lower down the volume of the pounding music in the car. “I’ll keep my eyes on the road and…” he trails off, shutting the window up halfway. “You won’t get so much wind in your hair now. Happy?”

Juntae just hums in response, watching as the windows roll back up to the midway point as the lights flicker from red, to yellow, to green. Seongje steps on the accelerator and vrooms through the barren streets of Seoul, the night weighing heavy on the two riding into the dark. 

“Where are we going?” Juntae says, although his voice is still as soft as a whisper. It doesn’t reach Seongje with the wind blowing into his soft and reddening ears, instead of Juntae’s sweet melodic voice. 

The man leans in closer, as a gesture for Juntae to repeat himself. “I asked ‘where are we going?’”

“Oh,” Seongje says, then returns to his normal driving position. “I have no idea. I was going to drive around and see what you want to eat…or do you have something in mind, hm?”

“Uh…ramen sounds nice…right now.”

“Alright. I know a good place downtown that’s still op—”

“No,” Juntae objects, and for a second he’s caught off-guard at how easily that rolled off his tongue. “I mean…the convenience store kind. The kind you pour hot water into and wait to boil…”

“Then that’s not ramen,” Seongje says with the roll of his eyes and the tap on the steering wheel, before he checks his rearview mirror and steers his car into a left turn. “But sure, puppy, whatever you want.”

The car drifts off into silence once again, and Seongje turns back up the volume of the music. An English song was playing on the radio, one that Juntae hadn’t heard before, but the mellow hum of the melody fit the night drive unusually well. Juntae shifts his focus to what the streets of Seoul had to offer at this time of night—the emptiness, street signs that no longer reflected in the sunlight, flickering traffic lights, and occasional bus stops that were left hollow and bleak.

They didn’t have to exchange any words. Juntae felt whole having Seongje by his side, simply just the sound of the steering wheel reeling back its original position or the soft vocals thrumming through the car speakers was enough for him to feel happy.

Maybe this is all they needed.

His attention is thwarted again, by how the car trudges over another rocky bump, and Juntae sees the blinding LED lights of the convenience store meet his eyes. It reflects off both their glasses, and Seongje slowly steers the car into a parking position before killing the engine. 

“Stay here.”

Juntae sits there, stunned at the sudden command. Seongje unbuckles his seatbelt before opening and losing his own car door, and Juntae blinks before he sees him make his way to his side of the ride.

He sees Seongje unbuckle his seatbelt and shut his car door, and Juntae slowly blinks as he realizes he is pacing towards his side of the door. Once Seongje opens it, he rests his arm and gestures for Juntae to get out. 

“After you, princess.”

Juntae unbuckles his seatbelt, before slowly exiting the vehicle. Seongje closes the door once he is safely out and about, propping a careful hand behind Juntae’s back as he leads him towards the entrance of the convenience store.

It’s quite big. Juntae personally hasn’t been here before, mainly because he was so accustomed to the store near Eunjang and his only attempts at visiting the city were only reserved for when Humin, Hyuntak or Sieun wanted to go into town, but the size of the store nearly triples the flimsy little area near his school. 

Seongje grabs a basket, before swiftly slotting himself beside his puppy again. “So what did you want to get?”

“I really like those carbonara ones…” Juntae trails off, but he beams at the thought. “And tteokbokki…those are amazing to have during such a long night like this.”

“I see,” Seongje pats Juntae’s head. “Go on, then, I’ll go grab us some snacks from the other aisle.”

Juntae makes his way over the instant noodle aisle and immediately starts scanning. He sees the usual packets, the spicy, 2x spicy, 3x spicy, but where is the carbonara? He trails his eyes upwards and sees it sitting out of reach.

“Ah,” Juntae breathes out, frustrated. “Why is it so high up? I just want the carbonara…” he mutters to himself, seeing that glint of flamingo pink packaging that he couldn’t seem to grasp. He takes a wary peek out the convenience store aisle to see where Seongje was, and his tall frame pokes out through the shelves as he’s walking back in his direction. 

“Whatever,” he sneers, grabbing the 3x spicy flavor—something on his eye-level “I’ll just eat this instead…”

“Ah, puppy,” Seongje walks on over, his posture ever so relaxed and carefree. He carries the basket of items in one hand, jumbled in packets of ready-to-eat food and savoury snacks. “Did you find the flavor you wanted?”

“Y-yeah…” Juntae mutters, scratching out the split ends of his hair. He tries to hide the packaging from Seongje so he wouldn’t question him, but the immediate furrowing of brows and pure confusion forming on his face was clear he wasn’t going to get off without one. 

“That…three times spicy? You like spice?”

“Yeah!” Juntae exclaims, using volume to hide his lack of confidence. “I really like it, actually…”

Seongje doesn’t buy it. He darts his eyes over to the instant noodle aisle and stares up and down from his eye level. 

“Ah,” he starts putting two and two together, and Juntae starts to feel the heat forming around his rosy cheeks again. “You can’t reach for that, can you?”

“I can, I just…”

Seongje cuts him off, weaving a hand through his soft and conditioned hair, before reaching for the packet of carbonara flavored noodles that Juntae had mentioned he’d actually wanted. Seongje doesn’t even have to get on his tippy-toes, to even stretch out the ends of his muscles, and it’s quite humiliating. Juntae lowers his head down in defeat—and probably shame—when Seongje adds it to the basket of goods. “You know, you don’t have to be shy about it around me. I’m here to help you, pup.”

“I know…”

“Mhm,” Seongje smiles, leaning in and kissing his forehead. His fingers move away his bangs with the swipe of a finger. “So cute…”

“Stop it,” Juntae swats his arm away, flustered by the sudden show of affection. “Thank you, though…”

Hot water was a must for instant noodles, so they waltz on over to the boiling kettles of varying temperatures. Juntae tentatively tears open the lid of the container, eyes meeting dried up noodles and packets of condiments before carefully removing them and setting them aside for future use. 

He ignores Seongje doing his thing beside him and pours the hot water into the container, sealing it shut with the chopsticks. He props up an arm and looks at the analog clock hung northeast, counting down the minutes and seconds before it was time to empty out the water.

Seongje had disappeared, leaving the station entirely with his respective bowl sitting on the counter, waiting for his food to soften. Juntae flits his eyes across the convenience store to track him down and see where he went, but his answer comes when Seongje returns with additional condiments to add onto his meal. 

“Don’t you want some of this?” Seongje nudges him to get his attention. Juntae stares at the packet of cheese strings he had brought over, 

“How did I forget!” Juntae exclaims. “Give me…”

“It’s all yours, anyway,” Seongje says, plopping the cheese packet down on Juntae’s soft hands. “I’m done adding to my bowl.”

Juntae smiles, feeling all giddy inside when he rips apart the strings of cheese. He opens his bowl of ramen, the savory scent flooding through his senses. He pours out the excess water and adds the ingredients—the carbonara powder followed by the spice packet, and last but not least, the strings of cheese. 

He plops the container into the microwave and sets it for about a minute, dusting his hands off and staring at Seongje who was pouring out his bowl. Juntae jumps back when he hears a loud growl rumble through, and stares at his boyfriend’s stomach. 

“Yah,” Seongje narrows his eyes. “You’re the only one who’s hungry, puppy.”

“That’s fair.”

Once the microwave dings, Juntae grabs his share of the food (and tries not to get burnt from it) and follows up with Seongje. 

“There should be a good spot at the tables at this hour…”

“I don’t want to sit at the tables,” Seongje replies, taking a slurp of his late-night snack, too hungry to let any more meaningless time pass. “Let’s go sit in the parking lot. Take in the nightview.” 

—

It was the right choice.

The night sky was beautiful tonight. The moon is always a spectacle in Juntae’s eyes, how the ever-shifting phases change how she presents herself every given night. Although she remains the most beautiful star of the skies to the naked eye, stars sprinkle across the vast skies. From such a low angle, though, it does not come off as visible, but enough for this date to be held with the right amount of romantic flair and emotional baggage. 

Juntae sits on the curb first, setting aside the containers of tteokbokki at his side, and the instant noodles on his lap. He pushes up his glasses and marvels at the night sky above him.

“It’s nice out here tonight,” Seongje says, taking a seat on the curb. He scoots closer to Juntae, and accidentally makes contact, bumping into him and making his clumsy boyfriend spill over the tteokbokki onto the asphalt beneath him.

“Ah…” Juntae lets out, seeing three pieces of ricecakes laying flat and uneatable. He thinks back to Baku and how he might’ve screamed ‘5-second rule!’ and devoured them without a second thought. He imagines his sheepish grin, his boisterous laugh and the sound of Hyuntak disapproving of his actions with disgust.

But his friends aren’t here. 

He looks up to Seongje, slurping on his share of instant noodles, dipping lower into the container as sauce spreads across his lips. He rises from it like a phoenix, one piece of noodle dangling from his lips as he slurps it all the way up with a ‘mmmm’.

Juntae lets out a small chuckle, shy and reserved at the expense of Seongje’s messy eating. He’s getting comfortable with him, the little things that seemed impolite being his new normal whenever he’d started dating Geum Seongje.

He’d never guess it’d be like this. He wasn’t the popular kid—he was just another nobody who was getting bullied and pushed around by Hyoman on a daily basis, and he faded into the background. People at Eunjang did not care to learn his name, nor did they care that he sat alone in cafeterias or alone in the anime club nose deep in manga that none of the boys in his community would bother to acknowledge.

And to think that in Year 2, he’d be surrounded by friends who cared and protected him, and to make matters even better or for worse, the start of his romantic endeavours with his first love.

“Why did you choose me?” Juntae blurts out. It’s easier now that the atmosphere and hours have changed, no longer holed up in a boarding school room or chained down by the aesthetics of academia. 

“You’re still thinking about that, huh?” Seongje says, slowly munching on his food. “Then allow me to ask it back to you. Why did you choose me, puppy?”

Juntae gulps down his food, eyes downcast. He tries to think of an answer, something to satisfy Seongje without making him sound like the reason was purely out of vanity. 

“Can’t answer that, can you?” Seongje chuckles. “Why would a sweet innocent little thing like you choose me, the heartbreak prince, hm? Even if you didn’t know about my reputation beforehand…those Eunjang idiots must’ve told you all about me and the girls I’ve dated. So why me?”

“I’ll admit,” Juntae shakes away the excuses in his head, opting for honesty. “I just thought you were really handsome. And…and I didn’t mean to like your picture but, here we are now…”

Seongje shrugs. “Well, that’s the same reason as me then. You’re cute, puppy. What more can I say?”

“That’s it?” Juntae replies, and Seongje blinks in surprise, watching as he clasps his hands on his mouth. “I…I didn’t mean to…”

“You have a snarky side to you that I still haven’t explored, puppy,” Seongje laughs, before dipping his fork into his instant noodles. “I still need to know a lot about you.” 

He feels the tips of his ears going red. “Anyway—is it just because I’m cute? The girls you dated beforehand…they’re all from like Yeo-il and Buil and all that, right? They’re way prettier and blessed than me…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Seongje says, nabbing a piece of tteokbokki from the container sitting in the middle of them both. “If I like you, I’ll pursue you. There’s no point in waiting when it comes to relationships, at least that’s how I see it.” 

Seongje turns over to face Juntae now, locking their eyes together. His finger lands on Juntae’s chin, and he thumbs over the softness of his face. “Besides, if I didn’t send you that text…would we be here?

Juntae shakes his head slightly, and Seongje drops his hand, letting go of his chin. 

“Thank you…for choosing me…for giving me a chance.”

“And thank you for choosing me.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after those words, occasionally interrupted by the slurping of some noodles, or the crinkling of single-use plastic cups. Two pairs of hopeful eyes stare at the stars that twinkled in the night sky, hoping that their love will last as long as the stars would dance. 

Chapter Text

The slight buzzing of a phone interrupts their silent date, and Seongje’s overzealous gaze falls onto the flashing phone screen pouring light into the darkness of the night. A tanned idiot with a smile so wide it infuriates Seongje plasters himself on the screen, a picture of him manhandling Hyuntak in his signature basketball jersey as he grins with a thumbs up to the camera popping up on the screen. As his name flashes in bold white letters atop of the screen, Seongje lets out a defeated sigh, realizing the cute little puppy he had decided to court was still barking and playing around with a pack he was not too fond of. 

“Huh?” Juntae murmurs. “He’s still awake?”

“Why the fuck is Park Humin calling you at 3AM?” Seongje sneers, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Juntae shies away from his gaze, eyes fixated on the screen. He’s a little torn—imaginable for someone like Juntae, who knows that Seongje isn’t necessarily on good terms with the captain of the Eunjang basketball team. 

“Can I answer?” Juntae asks for permission, even though he doesn’t need to. “I should answer…why am I…”

“Yeah,” Seongje says, wiping away the food littered around the corners of his mouth. It’s a little disgusting, but he was a teenage boy who had rotten manners. “Answer it. I have a few words to say to this motherfucker that wasn’t settled on the court.”

Juntae lets out a disappointed sigh before swiping answer, his own screen shrinking as Baku’s screen, still pitched black, fills up the screen for a second of a brief moment. 

“Yo!” Humin shouts so loud through the speakers that the poor little pigeons loitering around a puddle had to fly away in sheer shock and terror, horrified by the loudmouth that was Baku. “How’s my little Juntae doing?”

“Ah…” Juntae winces, bringing a hand up to his sensitive ears. He could see Seongje take a bite out of a snack out of the corner of his eye, feigning ignorance. “Baku-yah, why are you being this loud?”

He shrugs. Juntae takes a good look at his phone screen once he recovers from that temporary hearing jumpscare that Humin had inflicted on him in a moment of friendly fire. He’s shirtless. On his own bed, but very clearly not at the dorms, as the bedding is completely different. A shade of yellow illuminates his face, but it is a few shades lighter than the ones at the dormitory, so Juntae could only assume…

“I’m home for this weekend,” Humin yawns, and Juntae could see his uvula by how wide his mouth opens. “I finished rewatching some of my favorite Slam Dunk episodes so I thought I’d check up on my little Juntae! Where’s that fucker? Did you sneak out and answer my call?”

“I’m right here, dumbass,” Seongje shouts, draping an arm on Juntae’s shoulder and scoots him closer in a moment of surprise. Juntae lets out a gasp when his phone slips out of his hands by the sheer force of Seongje’s pull, but the wolf catches it in between his slender fingers with a cocky smile as he shifts the camera to his view. He cocks his head to the side, staring at Humin’s tanned frame, loosely covered in his blankets with an arch of an eyebrow. “Why are you calling my puppy at 3AM?”

“Yah!” Humin springs out of his bed, wide-eyed at the way Seongje was cradling Juntae. “Why are you holding him like that?!” 

“He’s mine,” Seongje scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation. “You Eunjang fuckers really have some nerve.”

“He’s also my friend!” Humin barks, rushing to his closet and sifting through his clothes. “Don’t worry, Juntae, I’ll be there to save you!”

“You really are one stupid motherfucker, Park Humin,” Seongje berates him, biting the corners of his mouth. “I’ll tell you what…”

Seongje extends the phone ever so slightly so that Humin could see both Seongje and Juntae in the frame. His smile extends, threading the hand that was once limp over Juntae’s shoulder in his hair. Juntae drops his jaw in shock before Seongje locks their lips together, and he’s caught completely off-guard. There’s heat rising in his cheeks, captivated by the gentle kiss, now only their second time that their lips had interlocked in a moment of passion. 

Juntae darts his eyes to the phone, the edge of his glasses obstructing his view, but it wasn’t shielding much—he sees Humin completely slackjawed, a red flannel shirt left hanging loose over his shoulders unbuttoned and forgotten after being shellshocked by seeing the scene unfold before his very eyes. 

And good God, Seongje doesn’t let up. 

His hands are now furrowed deep into the nest that is his hair, firmly locking him in place as applies more force, taking full control, not letting his little puppy breathe. Their glasses clink with every movement. 

“Y—...YAH! YAH!” Baku finally shouts, his voice echoing through the empty convenience store parking lot. Juntae could swear he could see the cashiers huddle up at the window to listen to the commotion. Humans are inherently very nosy creatures, but he couldn’t blame them—he could understand how banal a night shift must be at a place like this. 

“There’s no way this is happening,” Humin mutters, moving his free hand to his phone as his screen shakes violently. Juntae’s eyes widen, knowing exactly what that gesture means. “N-no, Bak—mmph!” 

Seongje cuts him off before pulling their lips apart. “Let him take all the screenshots he wants…I want all of your friends to know that you’re mine now, little puppy. You knew what you were getting into trying to get my attention, anyway, didn't you?”

Juntae lowers his head in shame and submission, and Humin finally finishes filling his gallery with pictures of the heartbreak prince devouring his lovestruck princess. 

“I’m sending all of this to Gogo,” Humin mutters, tapping away with his phone, and Seongje scoffs, before flipping Baku off one last time. 

“If you can’t tell, he’s good in my arms, dumbass,” Seongje scoffs. “Have fun, loser. Can’t wait to beat your ass down at the court next week.” 

“You dickhead, you—”

Seongje presses the end call button with haste, not allowing Humin to finish crafting his poorly-worded venom aimed at him. “Fucking hell…finally some peace…”

“Ah…” Juntae lets out, wary of how Seongje handled that. He licks away at the gochujang sauce on his lips and the taste of acidic taste in his mouth. He could deduce where it came from—the combination from those Marlboro cigarettes Seongje had smoked mixed in with the salty snacks and the creamy savory tang of the tteokbokki now left empty and stained in its own container. 

And although the aftertaste is a little gauche, Juntae really wouldn’t mind if Seongje had kissed him again.

The familiar ringtone rips through the air once again, startling poor little Juntae as he jumps out of his seat in shock. This time, an image of a man in his taekwondo outfit, a black belt tied firmly around his waist shows up flashing on the screen, standing firm and tall. His smile is infectiously wife bolstered by his hands on his hips, showcasing his beautiful array of teeth, which was mocking Seongje every second he stared at it. Juntae could swear he sees Seongje’s eye twitch at the very sight of Go Hyuntak. 

There was no use in just staring, though. He lets out a sigh, “…Fuck it,” he mutters, before picking up the phone and waiting for the connection. Seongje’s wide grin is plastered on his face when he sees Hyuntak pop up on the screen, very visibly agitated. “What do you want, jackass?”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER! What are you doing to Jjun-ah?!” 

“What am I doing to him?” Seongje lets out a dry laugh, his fingers caressing Juntae’s neck once again as if it’s second nature. “I’ll show you…”

He leans in for another kiss, but Juntae places his palms on his firm chest, with just enough force to signify his discomfort. “Seongje-ya…enough,” he replies, and for once in his life, the Ganghak boy is left completely speechless. 

“Is he forcing you to do this, Jjun-ah?”

“I’m not forcing him to do shit!” Seongje sneers right back. “We already made out beforehand—“

Juntae snags his phone back, obviously annoyed. He doesn’t want any of them bickering anymore, and he knows Seongje and Hyuntak’s histories make room for plenty of back and forth. “Tak-ah, I’m fine. Really.”

“Are…” Hyuntak sighs, rubbing the crease in between his eyebrows in frustration. “Are you actually okay? Don’t lie just because he’s beside you, be honest with me.”

“I’m okay,” Juntae says with finality. “He’s right…I mean he came onto me first, but I kissed him right back. I know what I want, Tak-ah…”

Hyuntak’s angry expression falters, now only concerned with ridding his face. It’s in the way his eyebrows shift, the way his tensed facial expressions loosen when Juntae assures him he’s fine in Seongje’s grasp. “If…if you say so. I’m one call away, Jjun-ah.”

“Yeah,” Seongje interrupts, yanking the phone back from his puppy’s hand with a flash. “Go fuck yourself, jackass."

Hyuntak grits his teeth and he would punch through his screen right now if he could, but Seongje ends the call as soon as he could react to his snarky profanities and targeted insults. He moves to the power button, ready to turn off his puppy’s phone. 

“Hey!” Juntae retorts, reaching for his phone, but Seongje is quick on his feet and moves it out of reach anyway. “What—"

“I think we’ve had enough annoying interruptions for one night,” Seongje simply replies, finishing the action and fully shutting off the device. Juntae watches in silence as the phone goes pitch black. 

“But what if…”

“No buts,” Seongje is stern now, shoving the device in the pockets of his windbreaker. “You’re safe with me. That’s enough.” 

Juntae doesn’t have a retort or a reply to that statement. It’s the truth, after all. He watches as Seongje takes out his own phone and repeats the same action, the soulless notifications on his phone all gone within a flash. 

“So…what now?”

“What do you want to do, hm?” Seongje asks, as if there’s anything else to do late at night. Both of them know there’s no use in delaying the inevitable ride back to the dorms, which doesn’t sound like something neither of them would like to do given that their late night date had just started. 

The city is dead silent. The only thing that fills it is the haunting whispers of the night only accompanied by the twinkling of stars in the skies. 

Juntae looks up into the starry specks floating in the atmosphere, although the LED lights from the convenience store tend to take away from its shine. 

“The stars…” Juntae murmurs. “I’ve never seen them twinkle so brightly in the city. Back home…me and my dad would always go out at night and eat our food and stare at the stars.”

“Stargazing,” Seongje lips perk up to a soft smile when he hears those words. “I just happen to know a place.”

“You know a place for everything,” Juntae deadpans, before Seongje lets out a laugh at his response. It was no surprise that Juntae was getting accustomed to Seongje’s company, but already breaking out his shy and soft demeanor and partaking in snide remarks was already a good sign that he can be himself with this mad man without any boundaries.

“That’s true,” Seongje says, wiping down his windbreaker for any excess food left on them. “But we should hurry, puppy. It’s quite a far drive, so I’ll pick up the pace, Seongje says with a wink before shoving his hands in his windbreaker pockets.  

“Hey, wait! We don’t have to if you’re going to drive fast—” Juntae shouts, but Seongje is already up out of his seat and walking over to his car. Not wanting to be stranded in a barren parking lot, and his phone in Seongje’s custody, Juntae rushes in his direction, watching as Seongje gets in the driver’s seat. 

—

It’s a thirty-minute drive. 

Ignoring the fact that it’s currently 3:57AM, and the fact that they still have to somehow go back into the dorms for a place to sleep, Juntae is convincing himself that he’s embracing his youth. 

Life doesn’t taste like this usually. Late night drives—so late that dusk is on the horizon—wind in his hair and his boyfriend in the driver’s seat, chauffeuring him around places in Seoul he’d never see if he’d stayed put in Eunjang and played it safe. 

So with his hands folded underneath him as he stares out into the starry sky, away from the city view and glistening with faux lights of their own, he enjoys the added risk of going for the Ganghak bad boy. Even at the distrust of his friends, even though they have to work out how both communities opposed their relationship, he lets himself breathe in the taste of vibrancy that hadn't presented itself to him. 

“I’m so glad we got new glasses,” Juntae lets out, a smile forming on his face. He pushes them up his face to get a better view at the skies, looking at how the uneven spectacles in the sky shine big, small and somewhere in the middle.

“Mm,” Seongje looks out to the street, as his headlights illuminate the asphalt pathway. “We wouldn’t be able to come here if you didn’t.”

“I think I would put my life at risk if you drove around without your glasses.”

“Oh?” Seongje teases. “How hurtful you can be, puppy…”

“You literally said it yourself!” Juntae whines as he jumps from the windowsill, staring at Seongje now after he plops back down on his passenger seat with that little pout. The wind has blown his hair in all proportions, but that is the least of his worries when Seongje’s handsome frame is steering the wheel with one hand and his wary eyes on the road with another. His eyes trail down to his toned arms controlling the steering, how his veins trailed from his wrists and etched itself in his skin. Seongje smiles, probably figuring out how intently Juntae was staring at him. 

“Am I really that handsome?”

Ugh. Of course he’s using this to stroke his own ego. “Yeah…I meant what I said back there. You’re so captivating…”

His confidence returns at full swing at the confession. “There's plenty of time to look at me until you get bored, Juntae. Focus your attention out the skies, " Seongje simply dejects. “This view is hard to come by.”

The stars are gleaming with pride. 

Juntae had always been fascinated by stars since he was little. How they were animated in cartoons, how little they looked in real life that paled in comparison—but he had never stargazed with someone he’d loved so dearly. 

They pull into the mountainside, adorned by flourishing trees and plants that filled the empty spaces. There is a bench sitting in the center of greenery, now darkened by the night. The branches of the nearby greenery wave ever so slightly in the night wind, almost as if it was attuned with the stars itself. 

There was a valid reason why Juntae dreams of home whenever he stargazes. He was an only child, and life in the countryside living with only his parents made him more attuned with nature. It is a mere blessing to be surrounded by flowers, and that led him to spearhead the movement of starting a garden at his school so he could feel more at home. 

It helped with homesickness, at least for a little while. The marigolds back home stood taller and were much bigger given their upbringing on different soils, just like how the stars didn;t twinkle as much as they did here, but those little trinkets in life hold memories worth a lifetime for Seo Juntae. 

He’s really lucky—he had caring parents, ones that supported him every journey of the way. He’d heard the horror stories of how vicious Humin’s father got whenever he got drunk, the nasty divorce that Hyuntak’s family was going through that put him in a financial disadvantage, or having been in the company of Sieun’s self-centered and overbearing mother himself. 

Before he could ramble on with his thoughts even more, he hears the stars beckon him to look up at their beautiful dance. The sea of wonder expands and deflates, his eyes wobbling on every constellation that he wasn’t trained to read just yet. The bench inches closer now with every step, and Seongje surges ahead to mark his territory. 

He drapes an arm over the backrest, throwing his head back as he looks upon the starry skies in silent awe of his own. Juntae shyly takes a seat next to him, not prying his eyes away from the beautiful nightview. 

“A good call, puppy,” Seongje chuckles. “This is the most romantic place to have a date.” 

‘How do you know of this place?” Juntae asks, warily. 

“What? Scared I took a girl out here stargazing?”

Juntae’s silence was all that he needed to confirm his suspicions. He lets out a sigh. “My dad. When I was a kid, he’d come out here hiking every damn morning. Dragged me along with him and I fucking hated every second of it.”

“I see…”

He still remembers the conversations and words they had exchanged over at Ganghak. He understands that his boyfriend finds his family annoying, or at least in usual Seongje fare, insufferable. He doesn’t pry—it wasn’t his place just yet to be asking why his relationship with his father is so strained. 

“Is that…”

At the sudden surprise that fills Seongje’s gaze, Juntae shifts from him and looks towards the night before letting out a gasp himself. He sees a flash of white traversing through the stars at high speed, before he realizes…

“That’s a shooting star!” Juntae exclaims. “I’ve never seen it with my own eyes!”

“You know what that means,” Seongje moves his hand up to Juntae’s cheek, pinching it slightly. “Make a wish.”

He stares at how handsome Seongje is smiling at him now, the way his lips quirk up and his gaze softening when he sees him so invigorated at the smallest of things. Juntae closes his eyes, clasps his hands together, and breathes internally. 

“I wish that Geum Seongje will always be by my side. That our love will last a lifetime.” 

He finishes off the wish by bringing his clasped hands to his temple before opening his eyes to the scene of the night once again. Beside him, Seongje is still relaying his wishes into the whispers of the dark, his eyes closed but his posture relaxed, not taking this too seriously. 

When he finally opens his eyes, he shifts them to Juntae first thing with a grin. “Hope our wishes come true.”

“What did you wish for?”

“Shh,” Seongje hushes him, cocking his head to the side. “Aren’t wishes confidential, hm? You should know better than to ask, puppy.”

Juntae lets it go. “Whatever,” he mutters, resting his head on Seongje’s broad shoulders. “I’m just happy I’m here…with you…”

“Me too.”

Juntae could feel sleep creeping up on his body, his eyes closing involuntarily as he fades in and out of consciousness. But when it finally claims him, his body going limp on Seongje’s build—Juntae could feel the soft caress of Seongje’s fingers in his scalp as reassurance that he was there right beside him. 

And how he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. 

Chapter Text

Juntae jolts awake at the first sight of dusk, blinking his eyes open to the peering sunlight over the horizon. The jagged edges of the mountain are now coated by a beautiful ray of sun, shimmering golden as the light pours into the bumpy crevices and stony surfaces. The trees are now standing tall, the colors of the leaves shining green and healthy basking in all of their glory from the morning light themselves, dancing to a different tune than the one in the dark night. 

He blinks a few times before realizing his vision is blurry. He brings a hand up to his face to feel for his glasses—which he had on before he fell asleep—but they’re nowhere to be found. 

It was then that Seo Juntae genuinely took a good look at his surroundings. He finds himself in an awkward position, when he looks down at his feet, realizing he is now taking up the whole space of the bench, laying down sideways with his left hand limping off to the side, the right one gently folded over his stomach. He finds his glasses there—two pairs placed together in parallel, and he recognizes the new frames that reflect by the beam of waning sunlight. 

Juntae’s makeshift pillow, he finds out through the soft fabric of the trousers resting his nest of hair, is none other than Seongje’s strong and slender thighs. He stirs, finally looking in the direction of where his boyfriend where he would find him sound asleep. He’s sitting straight up, his neck lulling about because of the lack of head support and his arm still draped over the backrest.

But most importantly is how beautiful he is in the sun.

His plump lips part slightly in his slumber, a little dry around the edges from dehydration, but still so kissable as ever. The mole underneath his eyes was emblazoned in the ray of sun, painting his tanned skin a shade of golden. The outline of his jaw is painted anew underneath the glow, almost if the darkness of the night could never showcase how beautifully sculpted Geum Seongje was.

Everything about him was so attractive to Juntae, and it amplifies whenever he gets close. He’s allowed intimacy with a man who’s so naturally violent, so rotten and spoiled, so dangerous, and yet every single touch has led him falling deeper in love. It was never supposed to be a love story that should be forbidden, the innocent cowardly Eunjang student who gets beat up by the ruthless Ganghak kids.

So how was he the exception?

The morning sun, with all of its glory, rises on the horizon in a moment’s notice. A splash of gold pours into Seongje’s eyes. Only then, does he stir awake, muttering out a curse and wedging his eyes shut before blinking them open to the ethereal sunrise. His eyes screw shut from the intrusion, head turning away to recover from the black spots in his vision and Juntae would only chuckle from beneath him.

“Ah…” Seongje mutters, his eyes still closed. “You’re awake before me?”

“Mm,” Juntae says, staring back up at him in awe. “A few minutes, I would say, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Hmph,” Seongje lets out, blinking now, annoyed by the black spots seared in his eyes for the time being. “It’s a beautiful place to wake up, but this blinding sunlight will be the fucking death of me.”

“It will go away soon,” Juntae mutters, finding his hands playing with the fabric of Seongje’s orange outerwear. It’s more smooth in his hands, easily creased with every touch, yet the colors remain remarkable. Seongje smiles when he looks at how Juntae finds ways to keep himself occupied with his body, clearly trapping him in a love cage that he cannot escape from.

“I know,” Seongje replies dryly, his undraped hand already finding its way to Juntae’s forehead. He thumbs at the soft wrinkles that haven’t quite settled into grooves yet due to their youth, before moving them to weave the soft follicles of his hair.

It’s a little greasy and oily, and Seongje could assume it’s because they haven’t indulged in a much-needed shower just yet. Reflecting on himself, even he feels a little sticky and uncomfortable in his own windbreaker, his deodorant wearing off from its use and now being left with the stench of his own body odor and cigarette smoke. 

“Puppy,” Seongje starts. “We should head back soon. As much as I’d like to…”

“A little while longer,” Juntae whines, but it comes out more a plea, still playing with Seongje’s windbreaker. He then turns his head to look at the beautiful morning skies, now in a light shade of blue with beautiful unreadable clouds in the skies, as a flock of birds soar through the air in a triad formation. 

Seongje indulges in how he’s biding his time, not muttering a word until Juntae agrees to moving up and letting go. A part of him wishes he would already, because it’s a little uncomfortable keeping his legs together like this for an extended period of time without interrupting his puppy, but he decides it isn’t much trouble staying for a few more minutes.

He lets out a chuckle then, which startles Juntae as he stares back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it…” he trails off, not giving an explanation. But internally, he’s laughing at the absurdity of this situation. How he’s finding patience for this particular Eunjang kid, how none of this reflects his personality in the slightest. 

He was brash, cutthroat, often bossing people around and losing his temper on the slightest of things. He spoke a language only people like him would understand, which involved fists and brutality. 

Yet under the compliance of a lamb, he turns obedient and pliant, almost as if his usual aggressive tendencies don’t tend to work on innocence anymore. It’s what the women like about him, his brooding bad-boy personality, the way he would flaunt his wealth and accomplishments and strength. It’s the masculine parts of his personality, his cockiness and ego bolstered by the attention—whether that’s from admiration from others at his strength, jealousy at his upbringing and status in society, or just downright fear from his mood swings, it feeds him nonetheless. 

But when he’s with Juntae, there’s that sense of comfort he’d never find in anyone else, at least no one he had the displeasure of knowing. His previous girlfriends—or he describes them as flings the way they’d didn’t even last until two whole months—were seductive, enchantresses that had hourglass figures in the night and were beautiful for the taking. He’s threaded his rough hands through their long and luscious hair as well, usually during aftercare, but the intimacy has never felt real. It read more like a chore, as something he must do as a man, rather than something he wanted to do out of the love in his heart. 

He’d thought about it long and hard when he received that little response from Seo Juntae. This little Eunjang kid is going to last himself a few dates, be too caught up in the scandal of dating a Ganghak boy with such a reputation, tire himself out after a month of misunderstanding, and he’ll go back on the dating market for another model on Instagram or another pretty girl from Yeo-il who has grown into her own skin, and the cycle would repeat itself. 

It almost did. He had no reason to save Juntae from those delinquents. He had no reason to take him back to his dorm and sort out the misunderstandings, to steal his first kiss, to embrace him in a moment of passion. 

But it happened.

Nothing about Geum Seongje’s dating life stuck. He was a mutt, chasing around for other dogs, only satisfied once they’re in his arms and he discards them once he’s done with them. 

So why is Juntae so different? Why can’t he pull away from him, why is he so protective of him? 

A question that he must leave unanswered as Juntae lifts his tired head from his lap now, picking up the two pairs of glasses laying on his stomach, a wary hand to not leave fingerprints of glass lenses. It gives Seongje room to shift his legs and move around without the guilt or tiredness gnawing at his legs as a requirement for love. 

“Let’s go,” Juntae smiles, plopping his legs down on the rocky surface of the mountainside. Grass peeks through his sneakers elevated by the sunlight, as he hands Seongje his pair of glasses. “I’m in need of some good food and a shower.”

“Me too,” Seongje yawns, lifting himself out of the bench he could now call his temporary place of slumber. He unfolds legs of his spectacles and slides them on his face, pushing them up for good measure. “I smell like horseshit and smoke.”

“You always smell like cigarettes though,” Juntae says, walking to Seongje’s ride. He has parked it in a horrendously shameful position, half of the vehicle clearly blocking the road. It would take a miracle for anyone to maneuver around that without inflicting any damage. “And…you kind of…”

“Yeah,” Seongje says, his tone implies he is without any remorse. “It was dark, and I couldn’t see.” 

“That’s not an excuse.”

“Hmph,” Seongje says, pinching his cheek, which leads Juntae to pout at the soft pain around his face. “You were so excited to see the stars last night, weren’t you, puppy? Why the sudden shift in how I’m parking?”

“Just…” Juntae knows he’s lost this argument, his posture deflated and his head hung low. “What if anyone drove up here and…”

“But no one did, did they?” Seongje rolls his eyes, “They wouldn’t be able to get here and…”

A massive, gnarly scratch on the side of his car fades into view. 

Seongje pounces on his vehicle when he sees the damage, immediately leaving Juntae’s side to stare up and down at how his beauty has been injured or badly hurt. His fingers grip onto red-painted metal, eyeing the scar tissue. “Who the fuck did this?!”

“I told you…”

His eyes darted to the back mirror, seeing a note jotted down on a piece of paper and sticking by the windshield. He scoffs before ripping the note from the grasp of those wipers, before furiously unfolding the paper and reading the contents from top to bottom:

MAYBE NEXT TIME LEARN HOW TO PARK

SWEET DREAMS!

Juntae jumps when he sees Seongje crumple up the piece of paper with a yell and throws it so hard it falls off the mountainside, tumbling on some rocks before taking its grand descent down to the very bottom. 

“That’s going to cost a fortune to fix…”

“I fucking know that!” 

Seongje takes a deep breath before stalking to the driver’s seat, slamming his door once he crawls back into his safe space. Juntae blinks a few times, watching as the engine whirs in fury—almost as if his beauty had feelings herself and was singing a melody of being scorned from the damage inflicted on her side, before he pulls the car out and parks the passenger door entrance right in front of Juntae’s view, beckoning him to get into the car. 

“Come on,” Seongje says, bitter from the consequences of his own actions. Juntae lets out a soft sigh when he opens the door and rides with Seongje all the way down back to to Ganghak. 

—

Two hours.

Juntae collapses on the floor when the door to Seongje’s dorm room opens for him. Clearly, the small amount of time he spent cooped up on that bench wasn’t enough to cure his horrendous sleep deprivation. 

Seongje holds the door open for a few seconds, quirking up an eyebrow at his dramatics. He wraps his hands around his neck before shutting the door, picking at the soreness.

“I should be in a worse position than you, puppy,” he sneers, throwing his car keys and wallet on the table with a clink and winces at the dull pain honing in on his nape. “My neck feels like it’s about to dislocate itself.”

“I’m sorry,” Juntae immediately says, “I shouldn’t have slept on that bench first…maybe we would’ve been better off sleeping here.”

Seongje purses his lips, fighting an eye roll. “If you think I was going to drive all the way back to the dorms at 4 or whatever the fuck time it was in the morning, then you’re out of your fucking mind, pup.”

Juntae is still as apologetic as ever, flopping back up on his back so he would face up at the ceiling. It is very similar architecture to Eunjang, something that Juntae has come to familiarize himself with when looking at their living arrangements. He lets out a breath of relief, having been cooped up in a car for two hours, only stopping for the occasional breaks to the gas station. 

“I’m so sleepy…I couldn’t sleep that well in the car…”

”I’m sleepy too,” Seongje replies, zipping off his windbreaker and tossing it in the laundry basket which was relatively empty. He thanks Hwangmo for that, but his roommate wasn’t here right now for him to express or receive his gratitude. He knew he headed home this weekend, but he can't help but wonder what the fucker was doing on a weekend like this. 

That's besides the point anyway. He'll have plenty of time to play catch-up with his friends.

He needs to entertain his boyfriend right now. 

His slender fingers brush over the hem of his shirt, a smile creeping up his face when he stares at Juntae on the floor as he slowly lifts it up. He sees it. The way Juntae whips his head up to see what Seongje was doing, and he knows all the dirty little tricks to rile one up with the experience he had in his high school years. 

Juntae’s eyes widen ever so slowly, seeing the outline of Seongje’s abs in all of its glory. He is a sly little creature, by the way he sucks in a breath to make sure his muscles are tense and flexed to enhance the effect of breathlessness from Juntae himself. The puppy’s mouth falls slightly open, and when Seongje pulls the shirt over his head, the fabric blocks his view for a brief moment before pulling it clean off his head with a grunt. He tosses the unclean t-shirt into the basket right afterwards, before moving to unbuttoning his trousers.

”Wa—Wait!” Juntae pleads, his sleepiness vanishing immediately at the striptease. “I…uh…don’t do that…”

”Do what?” Seongje feigns innocence, although he doesn’t come off that way when his button is already unbuckled and the headband of his boxers was already in view. Juntae chokes on his own words, gulping down the sinful taste in his mouth, and Seongje licks his lips. “How would you like me to shower, little puppy, hm? With my clothes fully on?” 

“No!” Juntae is taken aback by him deliberately misunderstanding his words to get a reaction out of him. “I’m just…uh…ah…can’t focus when you look like that.”

Seongje chuckles. “Then look away, puppy,” he replies, his fingers already wrapping around the zipper of his trousers before pulling it all the way down, and Juntae shifts his gaze away to the posters plastered on the wall. He sees a plethora of posters which he does not comprehend the origins of, the most outstanding one is of a girl with stitches all across her body, probably a mascot of a band that he knows nothing about.

“It’s funny,” Seongje laughs, and although Juntae isn’t looking, he could hear how the trousers plop into the basket. “How you shy away from my body, when this was what had you attracted to me in the first place. Do you know how red you are right now, hm?” 

Juntae could feel the heat rising to his cheeks—it’s second nature after everything Seongje has teased and put him through, situations he never thought would play out, but it did. The tips of his ears were burning red, and it was only then did Juntae take a deep breath and look at Seongje in his whole half-naked glory.

His tanned body was toned. Juntae swears he could trace every single outline of his sculpted blessed figure, the aching muscles of his abs, his firmly defined biceps, the outline of his chest. His eyes trail down from his torso all the way down past his boxers, his slim waist a sight for sore eyes and how his toned legs and thighs he had used as his headrest for last night looked as tough and masculine as ever. 

Seongje grabs his towel hanging by the end of his bed, before nestling it over his broad shoulders. “Come join me if you want, puppy,” he says with a wink, bolting out the door. 

And just like that, Juntae is left alone with his thoughts trying to recover from what he had seen. 

He stares down at his own trousers, a bulge forming in between his legs and he burrows his head in his hands. He wanted to fuck Geum Seongje, he really did, but why does his heart beat race and his body quiver when he sees him shirtless for the first time? 

Seeing it all in real-life was eating him from the inside out. The anime he had consumed about romance when he was growing into his teenhood, how sex was portrayed in movies and series were never fully detailing how it would play out in real life. He was interested in trivial things like how certain vitamins help boost brain function or how to cure a venomous snake bite if an emergency were to occur, not how to play innocent and not falter to the charms of the hottest man he’s ever seen—who just so happens to be his boyfriend. 

Juntae sighs, lifting his soft hands from his face and staring at the empty room. A bird flies by outside Seongje’s window with a soar, and it is only then does he muster up the energy to lift himself from his feet and sits down on Seongje’s gaming chair to wait for him to come back so he doesn’t have to run into his wet muscular body on the way to the shared showers. Or the other Ganghak kids who probably aren’t too fond of his presence over here.

He prays that these sinful thoughts wash away.

—

The shower has cleansed him of the filth on his body but never on his mind. With every soap scrub, every time the soapy bubbles trail up and down his body, every time he squeezes his own shampoo into his hands and massages it into his own hair, all he could think about is Geum Seongje. 

He’s waddling down the hallways of Ganghak. It’s a little…empty, particularly because Saturdays gave the students the freedom of leaving a cramped up dormitory and the freedom of no mundane classes. He paces to Seongje’s door, before he reaches the doorknob to his boyfriend’s room, towel in his hair drying away at the excess of water stored in the ends of his hair. Only a towel settled around his slim waist, wrapping around his fair skin as he turned around to close the door. He hears a grunt coming from the bed, evidently calling for his attention.

Seongje.

He’s still shirtless, this time wearing basketball shorts with the Ganghak logo imprinted on it—it’s the outfit he sports during his basketball matches against other high school bodies. He has an arm over his head, relaxed and resting on his own pillow, thumbing away at the soreness before shifting his focus to the door. “Ah, puppy,” he marvels, looking at his bare torso. “You’re finally back.”

Juntae doesn’t respond, resuming to dry his wet hair before closing the door behind him. He tries his best to steer away from Seongje’s gaze or attention, but clearly that proves futile when he hears him grunt and lift himself off the bed.

Abs.

“Shit,” Juntae thinks to himself before he rips his view from his glistening torso. He shoves the clearly wet towel in his already stuffed backpack in a moment of panic, trying to wince his eyes shut and shake away the visions in his head, but he simply cannot.

Geum Seongje has consumed him.

“What’s wrong, hm?” Seongje crouches down, placing a finger on his chin. “Don’t you wanna look at me, puppy?”

“I do…”

“Then look at me,” Seongje commands, staring into his eyes which were still fixed on his backpack. “Don’t be shy now. We’re already in my room, Eunjang.”

He’s right. If there was a moment that he would be shy and keep his thoughts to himself, that ship has sailed long ago. He zips up his backpack before lifting his body up, staring down at the wolf. 

“Thank you,” he says, changing the subject. “For uh…letting me borrow your shirts…”

Juntae had somehow forgotten to pack his favorite pair of pajamas, and he doesn’t want to waste his usual outerwear lest he goes home to Eunjang soiled with dirty clothing. 

“No need,” Seongje says, pulling the shirt folded over his gaming chair before throwing it to Juntae to catch. He holds the ball of clothing in his arms now, picking apart how soft it feels before reading the name of the band plastered all over the black cotton.

“Nirvana?” Juntae mutters but doesn’t question it, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall all the way down. It’s very oversized—anyone could tell you that from their staggering height difference, as he watches the hem of the shirt hover around the middle of his thighs, just shy from his knees.

“Hm,” Seongje lets out, taking a good look at Juntae in his clothing. “You look so pretty in my clothes, Eunjang. I should let you wear them more often.”

Juntae lowers his eyes. “They…they don’t even fit me,” he says, looking at the short sleeves covering his elbows. “I can’t wear this regularly.”

“But you should," Seongje jests, pulling him by the waist. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. I already have the bed ready and everything.”

“Wait!” Juntae mumbles out, and Seongje stops to look at his puppy blinking. “I thought I was sleeping in your roommate's bed…”

Seongje jolts back slightly with his words. “Why’d you wanna do that? His bed is probably filthy as fuck, and he probably doesn’t want anyone sleeping in it.”

He darts his eyes from the bunk bed and to the floor. “I…I can just sleep on the floor, that’s fine…”

“Are you crazy?” Seongje laughs at his attempts to find a way out of sleeping with his bare body, gripping onto Juntae’s waist tighter and pulling him onto his mattress.

“Seongje-ya!—“ he exclaims, but his body plops down on Seongje’s bedding, defeated from pleas that befall ears that weren’t willing to listen. 

“You’ve already slept on my lap,” Seongje scoffs, adjusting the waistband of his shorts, tying the crimson red strings in a beautiful little bow formation before pouncing on the bed on the leftover empty space on a small dormitory bed like theirs. “I don’t think this would be much of an issue, would it?”

”I…”

”Pup,” he says, his voice suddenly stern. “Are you uncomfortable? Tell me.”

”…No,” Juntae manages to voice. He feels the warmth of his body on his unclothed arms, eyes trailing down his body once again, still trying to capture all of its glory in his eyes. His grin widens, wrapping his tender arms around Juntae’s small frame, embracing in his warmth.

“Then let’s sleep,” Seongje says, snuggling in his pillow, his breath hot on Juntae’s ears. “I already planned a little surprise for you tonight, but don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that.”

But how could he? Juntae chronically overthinks every little detail, that even now, his mind is racing through countless possibilities of what surprise could Seongje have meant—and that’s ignoring the fact that his body is pressed against his back and his arms are caressing his soft stomach. 

“Sleep.”

Juntae exhales a shaky sigh, cursing how well Seongje knows him now. He shuts his eyes, trying to dream of sheep like he usually does when there’s a quiz the next day and his nerves won’t calm down enough so that his body can rest. 

So although it took a while, as the morning sun shifted into afternoon over Ganghak, he finds himself sound asleep in Geum Seongje’s embrace.

Chapter Text

“Pup,” Seongje mutters low, into the hot and breathless air of his dormitory. The scent of smoke pervades Juntae’s senses slowly when he regains his consciousness. “It’s time. Wake up.”

Juntae pries open his tired eyes awake, bringing a hand to rub away at the crust settling in the corner of his eyes, battling that sticky feeling that held down his eyelids. He lets out a little moan to signify he was awake, before blinking a few times to get rid of it and his mind rewinds back to the words whispered in his ear…

Wait a second.

How did he get in this position?

Juntae’s eyes trail down to his soft hands being firmly planted on Seongje’s abs, his fingers falling into the soft tanned skin right above his muscles. He’s laying his head on his firm chest, and he jolts up when he realizes in an instant, hitting his head on the metal railing holding the top bunk with a hard clank before plopping back down onto the soft mattress.

“Ow…” Juntae mumbles, bringing a hand to cover his head as if it would help the damage in any way.

Seongje tuts, shaking his head. “You really are one clumsy puppy, aren’t you?”

The Ganghak player places his hand above the painful ache throbbing on Juntae’s head, applying a little pressure on the ‘wound’ itself. Seongje watches as Juntae plops down on the empty space beside him, eyes downcast and shameful.

Seongje uses his free hand to rub at Juntae’s injury, rubbing lazy circles into soft supple skin. Only then does Juntae fix his gaze on Seongje, taking in all the details. There was a cigarette in between his fingers, lightly squeezed with barely any attention at all. The ash is threatening to fall at the force of one flick, but he holds steady and uptight, waiting to crank out one last drag. 

His hair was a mess—when his long hair is unkempt, it tends to stick out in all different directions after waking up, and Seongje was never one to have the patience to sit through a haircut without jittering throughout the whole process. Juntae brings a hand to rub at his own hair as well, realizing he’s in the same predicament as Seongje, although his hair behaves far better given the time and care he puts into straightening it every single morning after his shower. 

The Ganghak boy licks his thumb pats down at the hair sticking up, as a subtle command to Juntae that he will deal with it. When they do not surrender, Seongje sits up, and some of the ashes from his cigarette descend onto hardwood floors. 

“Ah, why is your hair like this, puppy…” Seongje chuckles at the situation, applying more pressure on the strands that refuse to go down without a fight. “Can’t take you to basketball practice like this.”

“Basketball practice?!”

Seongje nods lazily, tilting his head to the side as he watches the bundle of hair finally behave and lock into place. “There. And yes, basketball practice. The boys and I are headed to the court tonight for a practice round.”

Juntae blinks. “Then should I head back to Eunjang? I wouldn’t want to bother—“

“You’re the most interesting thing about the practice, puppy,” he interjects. “I’m begging you to stay.”

There comes a knock at the door, and Juntae manages to slip back underneath the covers to prevent himself from blowing his cover. “Come in.”

Is he fucking crazy?

The door creaks open, only with a few of Seongje’s friends creeping into the room then. The image of Seongje being shirtless on his bed with one hand lazily scratching his nape whilst a cigarette sits lazily in his mouth, smoke billowing from the ends of the burning tobacco is the first thing they see, coupled with a size of a grown man underneath the covers around his crotch area.

“Uh…just wanted to tell you we’re back for practice, Seongje,” a voice echoes, unfamiliar and low. There’s a sense of worry in his voice, afraid that he’ll piss off Seongje given they’re clearly interrupting something. 

“I know, Jaechan,” Seongje replies, dropping the now useless cigarette bud on the floor. He turns to the lump underneath the soft blankets. “Come on, puppy, what are you hiding under there for? Meet my teammates.”

Juntae shakes his head no, burrowing deeper into himself and refusing to come out of his cocoon. 

Seongje lets out a tired sigh, flinging the blankets off of Juntae’s body with one sweep, exposing his cowardly posture. He sits up, making for space so that Juntae would have room to shift himself in the cramped shared space for a bunk bed evidently made for one person. 

He finds no reason but to face his fears when he no longer has any defenses. He stares up at the three men who enter, all with similar body types and heights—skinny builds and around Seongje’s stature. They’re dressed in basketball gear, the Ganghak jersey in flashy crimson red highlighting the different numbers on their clothing. He sees 11, 22, and 44 written on the front and back of their jerseys.

“Let me introduce you, hm?” Seongje grins, his teeth shining. “Jaechan, Wootak and Seunggu. 11, 22, 44. In that order.”

The three men dart their eyes towards each other amidst the awkwardness. “Nice to meet you too, Eunjang.”

Seongje’s right eye twitches when he hears Seunggu calling him that. It was not supposed to be a sacred nickname, but it is now. “It sounds weird coming from you.”

“Fuck…I mean, sorry Seongje..."

“Shut it,” Seongje sneers, running a lazy hand through his hair, trying his best to tame it as best as he could. “His name is Juntae. Call him that and I’ll tell you if you can.” 

“It’s…nice to meet you, Juntae-ssi…”

“Hm,” Seongje hums in satisfaction. “That sounds better. I wouldn’t want anyone stealing my nicknames for my little puppy, hm?”

The awkwardness that pours into the room afterwards is inexplicable. It feels gauche seeing the once cocky Ganghak players on the court boast in the face of anyone at Eunjang—no matter if you’re on the court or watching from the bleachers—keeping their mouths shut. They’re no longer hurling their stupid insults or browbeating someone like Juntae just because he has Seongje right by side. 

But then again, how would they ever keep up that same behavior when the literal basketball captain of Ganghak has an Eunjang in his arms? Worse yet…seemingly giving him a blowjob?

“They’re not usually this awkward, trust me,” Seongje mutters, lazily strutting towards his messy table. It was only then did he take in the view of the Ganghak dorm in particular, too worried about either crying on Seongje’s lap or too busy catching himself staring at his glistening abs. 

The gaming set-up is outright insane. If he hadn’t known any better, Seo Juntae would think Seongje was a streamer from the very start. Headphones are clasped onto massive CPUs, and two gaming chairs—one in red and the other in orange—twists and rolls away slightly as Seongje moves them out of the way to fumble through some of the paperwork on the messy table. Wires traverse through the widespread table, tied down and strapped together by the help of some cable ties, as if it would electrify the whole space if it weren’t. 

It’s not as bad as Humin and Hyuntak’s dorm, where the pile is so high and messy that you’d practically need to clear out space for proper usage.

His eyes fall onto the glass bottles of energy drinks and the unopened packs of cigarettes sprawled out on the table up for grabs. He assumes that’s mostly Seongje's influence, and he hears the clink of a glass bottle when Seongje sifts through the paper work, trying to find the very thing that will help them emerge victorious against Eunjang once again. 

The gameplan. 

Juntae could swear there’s a twinkle when the piece of paper meets his dazzling eyes. It was a core reason as to why his friends are even so ‘supportive’ of him dating such a vicious man like this, but it has been so ingrained into his purpose, his reasoning. He shifts in the bed when he sees it, but he bites down on his lips slightly to control himself. 

He can’t give himself away just yet, can he? 

What would Seongje think if he stole the gameplans? That all of this was fake? That he was doing it so that he could help his friends win against Ganghak, that he was just using him?

Now he feels like the heartbreak prince.

“Hwangmo made this, so let’s talk formation and practicing," Seongje skims through the contents of the gameplan whilst pursing his lips, coming to an understanding. “Especially you, Wootak. Your dribbles could use more work since that dumbass Baku knows how to steal.”

“Of course,” he lowers his head slightly as a sign of submission, but his determination is written all over his face.

“Speaking of,” Seongje lets out a moan when he cracks his back, reaching a hand to scratch an itch, “Where’s Hwangmo? I thought he’d be with you guys.”

“Ah…” Seunggu laughs, immediately loosening up. “You haven’t heard, Seongje? He’s been very touchy-feely with that Buil girl.”

“What’s her name again?” Wootak interjects. “I think it was Mi-na or something like that?”

“Aish,” Jaechan jumps in, their natural dynamic restored at this point, which shocks Juntae at the recovery from whatever that was thirty seconds ago. “Hwangmo’s got himself a lady, and we’re all out here still trying to find a girl that’s worth our time.”

“I heard the girls are Yusung Technical were pretty easy,” Wootak crosses his arms with a cocky grin plastered on his face now. Juntae wouldn’t admit it, but he recognizes him the most from the game because of his shit-eating grin. “I saw some of them at the mall the other day, and I must say…they’re my type.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Seunggu chuckles, slapping Wootak on his back before draping his arm around him. “Dude’s gonna get his ass beat because he wants to fuck a Yusung girl.”

“I frankly don’t give a fuck who’s fucking who,” Seongje replies with boredom riddling his expression as he crosses his arms, “But if it’s going to cause Hwangmo to be late to practice, I’m beating the shit outta him.”

Almost as if he hears the threat, the door creaks open, exposing none other than Ju Hwangmo in all of his glory. His hair is tied up in a bun, jersey freshly washed and dried as he closes the door, looking up at the haunting stares.

“Here,” he darts his eyes to Seongje and throws him a crimson red jersey. “Fresh out the dryer.”

The man catches it with precision, gripping onto the fabric firmly. He flaps the jersey to rid of any dust before he throws the jersey over his head and clothes himself. Juntae fights the feeling of disappointment panging in his chest, of having Seongje’s musculature be covered by a flimsy piece of clothing.

Then he reminds himself he was so flustered he can’t even look at him one sleep cycle ago. 

“Should we head out?” Wootak says, jerking his head to the direction of the door. 

Seongje turns back to Juntae still sitting on the bed, head lowered in submission and in an awkward position now that all four of his teammates have entered the room. 

“Wanna come watch, puppy?”

—

When the Ganghak boys finally finish their practice, sweat drenching their jerseys, rolling down their faces, soft panting filling up the empty court on this quiet Saturday night, he demisses his friends as captain, watching them walk away chit-chatting about the usual. 

Juntae huddles himself on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of Seongje’s shirt when he sees him walk on over with the basketball wrapped in his hands, before moving it to his side. 

“Come on,” Seongje beckons, pointing a thumb towards the court. “You ever had anyone teach you how to play basketball?”

“Uh…” Juntae mutters out. “Well, you wouldn’t like the answer…”

“I bet it’s the two idiots, huh?” Seongje scoffs, dribbling the basketball before passing it over towards Juntae’s direction. He must’ve overestimated his strength, because Juntae feels the ball hit his stomach hard, letting all the air out of his lungs with a soft ‘ah!’. 

Seongje lazily strides over to the middle of the basketball court, where he decides it’s best to put on a show. He takes off his sweat-drenched jersey and tosses it towards the bleachers, completely missing the mark but still retrievable.

“What are you waiting for!” Seongje shouts, wiping the sweat off his face. “Come here!” 

Juntae follows his command, waddling over to Seongje’s position with the basketball in his hands. It feels like a foreign object at times, a sport he isn’t used to playing, but he tries nonetheless. He remembers when he went up against Hyuntak and Humin—he stood no chance, obviously, but he scored a few points through sheer determination. They always gave him tips on how to improve his posture when aiming your shot, or how to dribble properly, but he never took it seriously. 

It was very different with Seongje, though. The teachings of good-intentioned friends stop at just that. Friendship. Bonding. This was another excuse for Seongje to rile him up through touch, to put his hands all over his body, to breathe in that this little lamb has fallen prey to the hands of a prowling wolf. 

Juntae watches as he dribbles, alternating from side-to-side, eyes tracking the ball’s movements with intention. He watches as Seongje snags up the ball in an instant, positions himself with the speed of light, and aims for the basketball hoop. The ball hits the backboard with a soft thud, the precision of Seongje’s control is impeccable as it slowly falls through into the hoop, before gravity beckons it to come back down to the ground. 

He stands there with his hands to his size, mouth agape and eyes blinking when Seongje chuckles, wearing his smirk across his face. 

Seongje stalks on over to retrieve the ball rolling lifelessly on the floor, but whilst he walks back, he grabs a hold of Juntae’s arm. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Juntae doesn’t budge. He always lets Seongje take the lead, and this time he feels his sweaty body pressed against his back. The basketball is placed in his hands now, and Juntae feels the heat burning through his cheeks when strong muscular arms engulf his frame. “So what you want to do,” he breathes hot all over the shell of Juntae’s ear. “Is to aim for that hoop right there.” 

He can’t focus on anything Seongje was saying to him. All he could feel was the tightness around his torso, the heat on his earlobes, the sultry words being whispered in the night. 

“Try shooting,” Seongje commands. “With this posture, puppy, you can’t miss it.”

But Juntae does. He yanks the basketball hard, watching it get tossed up into the air, smashing on the backboard and ricocheting back off the fiberglass. 

When the basketball falls to the wayside, Juntae lets out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry, Seongje-ya…”

“Hm,” Seongje teases, straddling his waist. “You look so cute like this, puppy. So flustered when you get teased…how do you get so red in the cheeks and ears?”

“If you’re having so much fun teasing me then just say so,” Juntae snaps back, but given his body language, there’s not much retaliation. “It’s okay, Seongje-ya, I’m just not cut out for this. Let’s just go back to…”

“Ah-ah!” Seongje tuts. “Let’s make a deal.”

“A…deal?”

“What movie do you want to watch tonight?”

“Movie? But you don’t have a television…”

“You can sit on my lap whilst I full-screen in on my PC, can’t you? So pick your poison.”

“Uh…” Juntae mumbles, stammering on a choice. “I guessed I haven’t finished The Time I Got Reincarnated Into A Slime yet…”

Seongje narrows his eyes at the mention of the name, nodding his head in disbelief. “Ah…I’m dating a fucking nerd, aren’t I?”

“Hey!” Juntae exclaims, his demeanor shifting almost immediately. “We’re from two different worlds! I didn’t text you first, did I?”

“And who liked my picture on my Instagram first?” Seongje jabs back, and this time Juntae couldn’t reply, knowing he’s lost yet another battle. “Besides, don’t pretend like you weren’t drooling over me during the first round, puppy.”

Juntae gasps when he registers what Seongje told him. “You…you saw?”

“I see everything when I’m on the court,” Seongje chuckles, licking his lips. “The sad defeated looks on everyone at Eunjang fuels me…but you…you were just drooling out and about.”

Juntae curses himself mentally. He had even forgotten about the drooling, until Seongje brought it up. 

“Anyways,” Seongje walks on over to retrieve the ball, dribbling it onto the dry paint and hearing it echo through the emptiness of the court. “I’ll pick Saw. That’s what we’re watching if I win.”

“If you…what…”

“Try to steal the ball away from me, puppy,” he dribbles it in a steady pace, every thud taunting Juntae to step up his game. “If you could steal this ball from me once…we get to watch your slimy little porn shows…and if I win, we’re watching Saw.”

“But that’s not fair!” Juntae exclaims. “I’m not even in the same league as you!”

“I’m glad you know that,” his cockiness knows no bounds. “Just once. And movie night is all yours…”

Juntae was determined now. He loathed scary movies, never understanding why people would watch it to scare themselves. More importantly, he couldn’t stomach gory movies either. So if he were to realistically watch Saw tonight on Geum Seongje’s lap, he’d be pissing himself a quarter of the way in. 

But Seongje is an expert. A novice has no grounds to go up against him, every attempt ending up in failure. He watches as Juntae throws himself towards the ball, before he side-steps out of the way and allows for the little lamb to trip on his feet, plopping down on the flaky paints on the ground. 

“Is that really all you got?” Seongje tuts, disappointed. “I thought my puppy would put up more than a fight.”

“I will,” a soft voice echoes. “Another round…”

The dribbles are precise. Juntae watches as the ball is fully under Seongje’s control, bending to his every command. He steps to the side, seeing as Juntae is too slow to react for most of their romantic spar, but this time he doesn’t falter. He’s actively trying to block Seongje from scoring his shot, jumping up with all of his might, but Seongje could easily find an opening under this circumstance. 

That was before he felt soft arms envelop his body. He shifts his focus from the basketball hoop, to the lovestruck princess that was now straddling him by his sweaty waist and looking straight up at him with those puppy eyes.

“Don’t…”

Seongje’s mouth parts slightly, looking at how his soft round cheeks look pressed on his lower chest. How his hair falls symmetrically, how his glasses reflect on the overhead LED lights, how his plump lips look irresistibly kissable. 

He drops the basketball in a flash, too occupied by the features of his face. 

But once Juntae sees the ball rolling about on the floor, he immediately lets go of Seongje’s waist, rushing to grab onto the ball and claim a faux victory. 

“Seongje! I did it! We’re watching my movie!”

He is still stunned for a few more seconds before clearing his throat. “Yep, you got it…”

It was then he realized, with the image of Juntae jumping up and down claiming his victory with the basketball in his hand, that even though Seo Juntae was an innocent little lamb, he could also make wolves cower to his beauty and personality...

And maybe he likes it that way. 

Chapter Text

“Come on, come on,” Hwangmo mutters, leaning into his computer with the focused gaze of a cheetah locking eyes on a dainty darling gazelle in the wilderness. “We’re so close…”

Juntae stares upon the two chairs by the table, tangerine orange and crimson red chairs completely still even though they were twisting and jittering about a few minutes ago. He could assume from Hwangmo’s low whispers that they were both close to victory. He watches as the little characters traverse through the grass on the virtual landscape, moving at a glacial pace as they attack onto the enemies. 

He focuses his attention back on his phone with a soft sigh, looking at his message chatbox with Sieun flaring up on the screen. Blankets cover his thighs as he fiddles around the mattress, getting in a comfortable position to send back a text. 

[@seojuntae]

he’s just playing video games…

but he promised me that we’d watch a movie today so i’m kinda bummed…

[@yeon__sieun]

He’s still playing video games at 3AM?

[@seojuntae]

yeah…

but it’s okay sieun-ah ^^

you should get some sleep!

[@yeon__sieun]

I can’t sleep. 

[@seojuntae]

oh…

did you take your magnesium pills?

if you ran out i could ask seongje to take me to the pharmacy

[@yeon__sieun]

It’s okay

I’ll go with Suho and pick it up tomorrow

You should probably go to sleep too if he’s still playing

[@seojuntae]

i mean

i don’t wanna bother him you know

if he wants to play games and stuff then

i’m okay with just that

[@yeon__sieun]

You’re selling yourself short

If he doesn’t fulfill his promise I will take matters into my own hands

[@seojuntae]

no sieun-ah!

pls it’s not that serious

He hears a creak on the gaming chair and an exasperated ‘woo!’ leave their bodies, which he assumes is a good sign signalling victory. Juntae watches as the red chair turns around, the man in question sitting in it facing him now. “Whatcha doin’, puppy?”

[@seojuntae]

he called me over ok bye sieunah

He locks his phone before slipping free from the blankets beneath him, slowly walking over to the table. Hwangmo takes off his headphones and places it on the computer, before he moves to his mouse and clicks away rapidly. 

“I was just texting Sieun…” Juntae admits, shoving his phone in the pockets of his shorts. 

“Hm?” Seongje shoots back, letting the headphones wrap around his neck. He’s wearing a band tee and some sweatpants, his casual wear it seems, when he doesn’t want to go out of his dorm room. “Ah shit, I forgot to look at the time. Did I keep you waiting?”

“Yeah…”

Hwangmo watches as his computer shuts down in an instant, the monitor going pitch black once he’s done with shutting it down. “I’m heading out.”

Juntae flutters his eyes. “Wait…you aren’t staying?”

“Why would I?” Hwangmo chuckles, walking towards the bunk beds where his backpack was laying on the ground. “I’m not going to interrupt your little date with this guy.”

Seongje glares at him, biting at the inner corners of his mouth. “Ignore him. He’s going to go fuck some Buil girl he doesn’t even know the name of at 3AM.”

“Mi-na is my everything, but thanks for that, mouthbreather.”

“Oh,” Seongje muses, letting out a low chuckle. “This is new. You’re actually paying attention to this one.”

“Could say the same about you and Eunjang here,” Hwangmo jerks his head towards Juntae, and for once Seongje doesn’t have a condescending comeback. He spins his chair back around to hide the red creeping up his cheeks, and innocent little Juntae as always is stunned by the comment, huddling into himself out of shame. 

“I gotta go,” Hwangmo announces, adjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder. “Goodbye, Juntae. Have fun.”

Juntae bows his head as a formality. “Thank you…”

When Hwangmo heads out the door, he shifts his attention to Seongje still having his back turned to him. The sight of a red gaming chair remains in his vision, and he lets out a soft sigh. “Are you seriously not going to look at me?”

“Gimme a second.”

Juntae feels his teeth grinding, born from the anger creeping up his spine. His eyes turn from sorrowful and innocent to a soft focused glare at the man turning his back on him. “You promised.”

Soulless clicks fill the cracks of the empty dreadful silence the dormitory provides now, accompanied by the soft whir of his CPU heating up as if it was trying to sing an estranged melody in Juntae’s ears. 

“You promised me we’d watch a movie together.”

“Yeah. I got distracted.”

“I can tell…”

Seongje slowly turns his chair around then, the cogs in the infrastructure creaking as he turns to face his puppy with pitiful eyes. “...Sorry. I know that wasn’t cool of me to do.”

“Then don’t make promises you can’t keep, Seongje-ya!”

Seongje sits there, his stare locking into the tears brimming in Juntae’s eyes as he clenches his fists. “I…I don’t want to take away from your time with Hwangmo or anything like that…but it’s already so late and…it’s time to sleep and…you promised…”

He lowers his eyes in apology. “We can watch it tomorrow morning when we wake up.”

“Forget it.”

He turns his back on Seongje who is still sitting cockily on his gaming chair, watching his boyfriend plop back down on his own bed as if it’s now his territory, draping the blankets over his body before he turns to his side for comfort. 

The wolf stares at how the lamb’s petite frame slips underneath red fabric, and he purses his lips in contemplation. Juntae tries his best to sleep, doing everything to ignore Seongje. Even if he knew that the man would probably try to snuggle his way back into his heart—and knowing him, it’ll work—he tried his best to leave no space so Seongje would be miserable as a form of punishment.

His theory was proven correct when Seongje’s footsteps thrum through the planks underneath his feet, hearing them inching closer with every step. He feels a hand wrap around his back, fingers gliding on supple skin, the other on his thighs before his eyes shoot up to see what the hell Seongje was doing.

Seongje wasn’t a bulky man by any means. He was muscular and well-defined, yes, but compared to his friends back at Eunjang, he’s technically more slim than someone like Baku or even Hyuntak at times when he sees their bodies clashing on the basketball court. But strength doesn’t take form in appearance or musculature, it seems, because he picks up Juntae with ease, lifting his princess up into the air in a bridal carry. 

“H-hey!” Juntae burns red, letting out a sound of protest. “What are you…”

“We’re watching your little anime, puppy,” Seongje states with finality. He ignores how Juntae is using all of his strength to peel him off his body, soft hands sending attacks thumping on his firm chest, but Seongje’s resolve cannot be shaken. 

He kicks the chair away from the desk to make some space for him and Juntae in his arms, promptly sitting down on it. Juntae practically surrenders by halting his slams, seeing his efforts clearly futile as Seongje plops him down on his lap gently.

“Come on,” Seongje jerks his head to his open legs. “Sit.”

Juntae lets out a sound of protest, staring at the outline of his thighs. “It’s okay, it’s really late, Seongje-ya, we could just sleep—“

“We took a massive nap, I know you’re not that sleepy.”

Juntae lets out a tired sigh, plopping himself down on the graciously open space that is Geum Seongje’s lap. He shifts around for as much comfort as he can, trying not to brush over any sensitive spots as he moves, but he doesn’t miss how much Seongje seems to enjoy him squirming on his lap.

He hears the sound of a mouse clicking away once again when he focuses his attention on the monitor, watching as Seongje moves his cursor swiftly to open what was essentially an illegal streaming website. Juntae complied, watching as he opened the browser and started off the show.

Juntae feels himself melt with Seongje underneath him, his slender thighs moving slightly every few seconds, the warmth of the man he liked enveloping him once again as he watches the animations flash before his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to lean his head on Seongje’s chest, this time not trying to free himself from his grasp, but the beautiful surrender of a lamb who knows he’s quite safe in this wolf’s arms.

“Enjoying the show?”

“Mm…”

He mumbles on Seongje’s shirt, feeling his eyelids grow heavy by the calling of sleep. Juntae eventually loses the battle, as many do, sleeping soundly on his firm chest as his lips part drifting off to wonderland.

—

Once Seongje manages to carry his puppy’s sleeping body towards his own bed, he watches as his head rolls around on his pillowcase. Juntae looks so unabashedly beautiful laying in it, he thinks to himself, as he threads a soft hand through his hair, trying his best not to disturb his smooth breathing and the steady rhythm of his chest rising up and down. He takes off his glasses and folds it nicely, placing it on the nightstand and watching Juntae shift in his sleep with a soft smile creeping up his face.

Seongje slowly lifts himself out of his bed, making sure it doesn’t creak lest the sound wakes Juntae. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight, not until he scratched an itch that lingered in the back of his mind. 

The delinquents.

He was no stranger to the whispers of Ganghak, given how much they disapproved of his relationship with this Eunjang (he could still hear the gossip lingering in the back of his mind: ‘I wish he picked a girl from Yeo-il instead’ or ‘I knew he was into guys, but can’t he just go back to fucking those models he used to date?…’)

Seongje never had anything to protect. Even though he came from a wealthy upbringing and was an only child burdened with the family fortune, he never felt as if it was his duty to uphold a well-mannered image for show. He grew up spoiled—from wine tasting to golf courses, to brawling on the streets and trying out for the basketball team of the school his father owns. It may be the sheer cockiness of knowing he was an only child and the sole heir of Ganghak in the future, but that drove him to do whatever he wanted without consequence. 

The adrenaline that rushed through his veins whenever he’d be on the apex of winning was what drove him through life. Even if he somehow didn’t win, such a worthy competitor who would have him groveling to defeat was something too insatiable to resist. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

But it was so lonely.

With every fight, with every win, with every cheer, he only felt more alienated. The people at Ganghak showed him respect out of courtesy, worried that his wealthy upbringing could taint their family names and his battle prowess would be enough to hospitalize them for weeks. They were right—Seongje was a ticking time bomb, who never played by anyone’s rules but his own.

But now, he felt it. He doesn’t know why he’s so drawn to this poor little lamb who was so weak and feeble, but so determined and loyal—but he was.

The first person in his lifetime that he wanted to protect was an Eunjang. 

Isn’t that so romantic?

Seongje shuts the door behind him as quietly as he could, immediately flickering with the lighter. The clicking sound of it echoes through the hollow hallways, reading somewhat as a horror movie as the fire stabilizes. His cigarette lights up in the night, the orange glow radiating as a source of light in the shadowy gloom of the early morning.

Seunggu and Wootak’s shared room is just on the second floor, so he huddles himself up to the stairwell, blowing smoke out of his lips as he strides toward his destination. 

But a shadow emerges in pitch black.

It’s unmistakable. He sees a man with a crowbar enter the scene of the fight, slinging it over his shoulder as he stands there menacingly, as if that would scare Seongje in any way. When Seongje darts his eyes to his side, he sees three more delinquents walk up from the staircase, with their own share of weapons he can’t see clearly in the dark surrounding him—begging for a fight. 

“We’ve been waiting for you, Geum Seongje…” one of them announces, and Seongje could remember that grating voice anywhere.

“Weren’t you begging for me to stop pummelling your face just a few days ago?” Seongje chuckles, taking a drag of his cigarette, the soft orange hue glowing subtly as the bullies inch closer up on him.

“We came well prepared,” the boy shoots back. “As you can see…”

Seongje lets out a soft chuckle before it slowly turns into a full-blown laughing fit. His laughter echoes through the hallways of Ganghak before he quiets down with a wheeze, taking one last drag of his cigarette, exhausting all of its glory before flicking the bud away as it no longer serves him any purpose. 

“It’s about time I had some fun around here.”

“You can keep up the act all you want,” the delinquent sneers, aiming his crowbar at the man in a futile effort to intimidate him. “You’re not immortal.”

“You must be new here,” Seongje grins, cocking his head to the side, and that prompts the delinquent to beeline towards his direction in a fit of rage. He kicks down the delinquent when he's near, snagging the crowbar out of his hands and smacking him once in the head with the weapon. 

When the other three delinquents close in on him, he ducks—aiming for their legs. He manages to take down two of the men, their weapons falling out of their hands in shock, another one dodging it swiftly and now aiming for his head with a baseball bat.

Seongje sidesteps, watching as the baseball bat makes contact with the ground with a loud 'thunk!' that echoes through the boarding school hallway. Before the lackey knows it, his eyes widen as he looks back up at the wolf who drives a crowbar into the side of his head, watching the blood splatter on the ground as his body hits the floor. Seongje drags the crowbar on the ground with a sigh, the screeching noise as a haunting reminder of their defeat, as he uses it to jab at their sensitive spots—their brittle ribs, their scrawny legs, or their ugly faces. 

From the corner of his eyes, he sees the leader rise from his injuries. He throws the crowbar into the air and shifts its handling, using it as his weapon to fend for himself. He swings at the direction of the delinquent, and he manages to dodge it anticipating Seongje’s attack, but the mad wolf is always two steps ahead. 

The delinquent laughs, thinking he has the upper hand before he drives another punch aiming for his stomach, but the clank of metal hits the side of his head once again—succumbing to his injuries once and for all.

He lets out a surrendering whine, one hand placed on his bleeding head and the other up for mercy. “Shit! I surrender!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Seongje licks away at the blood trickling from his lips with a widening grin, before swinging at his right knee. Another strained shout echoes through the hallways of the boarding school, and he could hear his fellow students rising from their slumbers to observe the commotion happening right outside their doors. “You all are no fucking fun. I miss when I went up against brawlers who knew what they were doing.”

The delinquent shakes his head, yelping as he moves his shaking hands to his injured knee, “Fuck…no more…I beg…”

“Why did you target my puppy when I wasn’t around? Speak.”

“Can’t you see?” the delinquent coughs, eyes glaring at Seongje despite his injuries. He wasn’t fearful or frightened—Seongje could respect that about anyone who went up against him. “You pretend not to notice but none of us here approve of you dating that little mutt from Eunjang.”

Seongje rolls his eyes, hovering the crowbar on his injured kneecap. “So what? When did I give a damn what you fuckers have to say about who I date anyway?”

“You’re the face of Ganghak!” he shouts, teeth grinding on each other from the pain and anger. “Do you really think he’s the one for you? When are you going to stop associating us with that fuckass school that is Eunjang, huh? How did we go from beating up those losers to you dating one of their precious little—”

Another yelp of pain ripples from the delinquent into the night, birds zipping away from the windows in fear as Seongje continues assaulting his legs. He could see the other delinquents already limping away, their loyalty nonexistent as it always is in the world of fighting. 

“Like I said,” Seongje’s gaze turns violent. “That isn’t your fucking place. I’ll date whoever I want to date.”

“Then what about the rivalry?” the delinquent scoffs. “You’re going to lose on purpose so you could give Eunjang the win? So that they could spit in our faces and boast about finally being victorious?”

Seongje takes in a deep breath, dropping the crowbar onto the ground as it clinks onto the surface of the hallway. He instinctively reaches in his pockets for his box of cigarettes, taking one out and sticking it in between his teeth. “Aish, you fuckers really give me a headache,” he mutters, voice muffled. He lights it up with only two clicks of his lighter this time, watching as the orange flames burn away at the tobacco. “I have no intention of losing, aight? Ganghak will get into the finals again and win once and for all.”

“How much of that can we believe?” he retorts. “You’re going to lose, Seongje. We all could see how much the lovestruck princess has you wrapped around his finger, even if you can’t.”

“I’m still loyal to Ganghak,” Seongje states with finality. “My family built this empire, and even if I’m fucking around waiting for my turn, I’m not going to watch it burn.”

He picks the crowbar up from the ground, using it to taunt the delinquent’s body, aligning the curved ends to jerk his chin up. “But how should I punish you for even spouting those hateful words to my puppy, hm? Maybe I should blow out your knee? Or maybe some broken ribs would look pretty on you...?"

The delinquent chuckles, blood coating his mouth a shade of crimson red. “I never thought one day I’d get to see you beat up your own blood for an Eunjang. You’re a fucking traitor, Geum Seongje.”

He grits his teeth, but forces a smile through the anger. “Guess I’ll just settle for the skull.”

“Seongje-ya!”

He freezes when he hears his puppy’s voice echo through the halls. Seongje turns back, watching as a quiet, tentative Juntae walks towards him. “Enough…please…”

“I don’t get you,” Seongje snaps back, watching his puppy stand before him. “First, it was Hyoman and now this fucker…why do you care what happens to him?”

“Because I have a heart!” Juntae shouts. “He’s already beaten enough…I care because I know what it’s like to be beaten, Seongje. So please…don’t lose control.”

Don’t lose control.

Seongje stares back at the delinquent whimpering on the floor. His head is already bleeding, blood drops dripping from his hair onto the hall. His legs are probably going to be bruised and violet come morning, and he had no more fight left in him. His message was clear even if he lost the fight—that Seongje would forever be tied to Ganghak as Juntae would be to Eunjang. 

He throws the crowbar back onto the ground with a clunk, walking away furiously and Juntae trailing behind him. 

—

“Don’t move,” Juntae mumbles, bringing the antiseptic cotton to his bloodied lips. “It’s a minor scratch but you still need to patch it up…”

“Mm,” Seongje hums, trying his best not to wince when the medicine touches his open wound. He looks away, not wanting to stare at those puppy eyes filled with sorrow and pity for Seongje to witness, a haunting reminder of his own doing. “How did you know I was out there fighting against those fuckers?”

Juntae lets out a sigh, finishing dabbing the cotton—now stained bloodshed red from the cut right below his lip, and placing it in a makeshift garbage disposal from convenience store plastic bags. “I heard screams…shouting and banging…I knew that no one would start a fight at this hour and when I woke up, you were gone…”

Seongje snickers. “You have a keen ear then. Usually I couldn’t hear anything on the second floor from here, you know?”

“That's not what matters,” Juntae shakes his head, moving onto the ground and sifting though his belongings and his backpack for a bandage he knows is lying around, hiding. “Why did you fight them?”

“Let’s get one thing straight. They started a fight with me. Not the other way around.”

“Still…”

“Still what?”

“...I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. I know I’m not well-liked around here and…honestly, that’s fine by me, but I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

Seongje furrows his brows at the response, “You’re not causing any trouble.”

“Then explain why they attacked you. It was because of me, wasn’t it? Because I’m ruining your reputation?”

“You keep bringing this up when we argue,” Seongje retorts, taking Juntae’s soft hands into his grasp as a soft plea. “Puppy…I will make sure we work out. I promised, didn’t I? And you said to not make promises I can’t keep.”

Juntae blinks rapidly, remembering his outburst a mere hour ago. “You remember...?"

“I’m going to show you off to the world,” the glint returns in his eyes, his cheeks filling out with joy. “I don’t care if you’re from Eunjang. They can all kiss my ass if that means I’d continue to have you as my boyfriend."

Juntae has his eyes downcast, focusing on ripping out the bandage from its casing. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Seongje says, letting Juntae plaster his small injury with a colorful splash of cartoon characters. “Come on, puppy. We have one last day tomorrow to make it the best honeymoon weekend of our lives. Let’s go to sleep.”

Juntae smiles for the first time that night. “Make it memorable then, Seongje-ya.”

Chapter Text

Sunday morning. 

The sound of soft rain drizzling onto the concrete outside and the soft dewy grass is the very first thing he hears when he wakes, next to a bird chirping their morning harmonies to the skies. He shifts slightly, realizing he's completely wrapped around muscular arms which envelop him in a blanket of warmth.

He feels at peace with himself, the weekend morning ushering in a sense of quiet and tranquil, not to mention the added fluttering feeling of being able to stay in your lover's embrace without a care in the world. He ponders to himself only secretly, eyes closed but no longer whisked away by dreams of passionate romance, how this last day of the weekend will be spent before hits back to the rigorous same-old studying and quizzes clogging up his foggy brain on a Monday morning. 

Seongje nuzzles himself deeper into Juntae's neck, finding refuge in the sacred space. His skin is an oasis, something Seongje has refused to let go of ever since they have been stuck together. His eyes flutter open eventually to his soft hands curling up ever so slightly on the pillowcase, his eyes drifting down to the crimson red being strewn on the bedsheets he is now so accustomed to. A ray of sun illuminates the entirety of the boarding school dormitory, shadows scattered from trees and outlines of architectural buildings but nonetheless still so golden and gleaming. 

He begins to shift around for comfort, feeling the hot breath in the crook of his neck too much to bear and ruining the peace. His intention was not to wake Seongje up, but given the circumstance, it's an incredibly hard task to ask someone to accomplish. The man awakens with a soft groan, bringing a hand to rub at his eyes before wincing at the golden ray of light pouring into his room. "Fuck, it's too fucking bright in here..."

“You forgot to close the blinds,” Juntae chuckles, wrapping a hand over Seongje's forearms. “That’s why…”

"Mm, whatever," Seongje mutters, pulling Juntae's body closer to him. His fingers brush past his ribs very lightly, and his puppy lets out a soft giggle at the contact. He quirks up an eyebrow, seeing Juntae's flustered face before his fingers find their way into the soft crevices of his ribs—and he hears a sharp gasp before a light chuckle escapes his lips. Seongje smiles, his lips pressed against his pillowcase as he pokes at Juntae's stomach, feeling him jitter and squirm at every touch. 

“Ah…is my puppy ticklish?”

Juntae shakes his head violently as a sign of protest, his head softly banging on the pillows as his messy hair lays on it. “Stop it…please…”

“Uh-uh,” Seongje tuts, unwrapping him from his arms in an instant and positions himself to hover right above Juntae. His eyes shoot open after feeling the shift, and Juntae’s shocked demeanor fades away awfully fast when fingers dig into baby soft skin, now squirming and twisting away from Seongje's touch. 

“Okay! Okay! Pl—” he chokes on his words, the coherence replaced by heinous laughter. “Please! S-Seongje-ya!”

Seongje lets him go, seeing he has tortured his puppy enough for one peaceful morning, leaving him on the bed wheezing and catching his breath. He swiftly slips out of bed, wrapping his hands on the metal railing supporting the top bunk before grabbing at the towel being folded over a clotheshanger hanging by the ends of his bed. He promptly wraps the towel around his waist, a black and red fabric made with seamless cotton before walking towards the nightstand to grab his glasses. 

He finds a soft kick drive itself into his stomach. The kicks, which do not inflict any damage on Seongje himself, slowly fall into a soft rhythm. He narrows his eyes, grabbing Juntae’s ankle in one swoop and traces his finger on the soles of his feet, eliciting another scream and laugh, before dropping it. He watches as Juntae hurls into himself in surrender. “You’re getting really brave, hm?”

“Shut up,” Juntae snaps back with a pout. He throws the blanket over his head and burrows himself deeper into the dip of the mattress, the imprint being left there from the two bodies being cuddled together. “I don’t wanna talk to you.”

Seongje couldn’t hide his soft smile, his warm gaze laying upon his puppy hiding underneath the covers. He lets out a soft groan when he stretches out his limbs from morning sleep, flinging the towel over his shoulder and waltzing out the door like he always does. 

Juntae lays there, wide-awake, now contemplating about life. He remembers last night, how he had to make sure Seongje didn’t spiral out of control or patch up a cut above his lips. Juntae thinks of the delinquent that was left beaten and battered on the ground, bloodied from Seongje himself.

He wills himself out of crimson red covers and bedsheets, walking towards the table with the gaming set-up and stares ominously at the jet-black screens. He sees amidst the massive pile of homework and school-related items—the gameplan.

A traitor. That was what Seongje was to Ganghak for dating him, but isn’t the inverse of that statement also true? Was Juntae a traitor for even thinking of dating someone like Seongje? 

Fascination takes over Juntae when he picks up the gameplan, looking at every minute detail. If he can’t steal it, he might as well try to remember what’s written on it, right?

He lets his fingers roam on toughened paper, tracing at every inch of the material. If he had stolen it now, Seongje would notice his attempt at thievery, but he just can’t help stare at the drawing. He admires the pencil strokes around the circles and the lines, how Hwangmo writes all of their names in hangul, how he doodled the Ganghak symbol above.

What he didn’t admire was the door creaking open to the sight of Geum Seongje with a towel wrapped around his waist and his low voice rumbling through the room. “Forgot my toothbrush—”

It’s the way Juntae stands there with the gameplan in his hands. Like a wayward puppy who destroyed the living room area and is now using his pitiful eyes to beg for mercy, but Seongje narrows his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“It’s—it’s not what you think!”

“Oh, really?” Seongje slides through the gap in the door now, leaving it open before stalking over at Juntae with a vengeance. He whimpers, watching the paper get ripped apart from his hands as he holds it up high—too high for someone Juntae’s height to grasp at now. 

“Is this what you were here for? Did my little playmate and his dumbass boyfriend tell you to steal this from me?”

“No! Swear…”

Seongje clearly isn’t buying it, placing the paper back on the table where it belonged and Juntae lowers his eyes immediately, not wanting to piss him off anymore than he already did. 

But a flash of mischief flashes across Seongje’s eyes, and Juntae sees his attitude shift immediately. He chuckles a little before toying around with the idea, lolling his head. “You know what? I’ll make you another deal, puppy.”

Juntae furrows his brows this time, trying to read his smug smile and shifting behavior. “You and your deals! You almost didn’t keep your promise last night—“

“Shhh,” Seongje shushes him, a finger to his lips before leaning closer to Juntae's reddening expressions. “I’m serious. I’ll let you take home our gameplan if and only if you pledge your allegiance to me.”

“What?”

“To Ganghak, I mean,” he smiles, cocking his head to the other side slightly now. “You know those cheerleaders from Yeo-il that always came to my games?”

Juntae blinks, trying to think back. He does remember—those girls who were screaming and cheering for Geum Seongje every he scored a clean lay-up or a 3-pointer on the court, crying whenever he'd win a game that he was destined to win through skillset and training. But does that mean he...

“No!” Juntae exclaims, before letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “I mean…no, thanks…I’ll just go back to Eunjang empty-handed, that’s fine…”

“Aww, you’re giving up so easily?” Seongje muses, tapping his chin. “Won’t Eunjang hail you as a hero? Those two idiots would especially love it if you bought the gameplan back home, wouldn’t they, hm? Isn’t that what you want?”

Juntae shakes his head slightly. He was loyal to Eunjang, he really was, but…

“Okay,” he lets out, pushing up his glasses and staring at Seongje, his eyes darting up and down with no confidence in his posture. He’s making a deal with the devil himself, but he’s been all but accustomed to making them. “I’ll cheer for Ganghak when the time comes.”

Seongje’s smile only widens, baring all of his beautiful teeth for Juntae to see. “I’m not just talking about cheering, Eunjang. I want you to wear my jersey. I’ll even have it custom made for you while you pick out your favorite number…”

Juntae feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, glowing a shade of red already as a pledge. He thinks about the offer: even if he had to cheer for Seongje for the entirety of the school to see, so what? If he helped Humin and Hyuntak win the game, he didn’t mind being seen as a traitor as long as he knows where his loyalty lies.

“…You have a deal, Seongje-ya.”

“Good,” Seongje slips the paper out of his own desk before folding it up messily and unzipping his backpack. “Keep an eye on it. It would be a shame if you didn’t…”

Juntae lets out a sigh, glad that the main glaring issue of his Ganghak visit is now resolved—at least for the time being. He feels rough hands contrasting his soft, wrapping around his fingers before pulling him to the door, before pointing his attention to his backpack.

“Get your toothbrush,” Seongje says, sticking his in his mouth with a tub of toothpaste in his hands. “We should go freshen up.”

Chapter Text

“Strawberry toothpaste?” Seongje thumbs over the lettering. “Seriously? This shit’s for kids, Eunjang.”

The communal bathroom of Ganghak—at least, on the first floor, was more silent than usual. It wasn’t a surprise since Eunjang was also the same way, many students living nearby going back home to their families and spending time with their friends, only coming back to the dorms on Sunday night.

A group of friends pass Seongje and Juntae by and into the shower stalls, towels wrapped around their waist snugly or draped over their shoulders as they converse about the national basketball game at eight tonight.

Juntae drifts his eyes back to plastering the bristles of his toothbrush with the flamingo pink artificially-flavored strawberry toothpaste. “I’ve been obsessed with it since I was a kid…the aftertaste is nice.”

“So my aftertaste isn’t?” Seongje leans in closer to Juntae, scrunching up his nose. His toothbrush almost makes contact with Juntae’s face, still being snugly fitted in between his canine teeth, and his eyes crease up when he smiles. 

“You taste like cigarette smoke and energy drinks,” Juntae comments, pushing him away with a finger to his forehead, pressing on the soft skin present where his hair parts. “There’s a difference between what I use to clean myself and what I kiss…”

“What a shame,” Seongje muffles, placing a hand over the corner of the sink as leaning support. “I would love it if you tasted like me. Every second of the day.”

Juntae shudders at the thought. Love was a correct word to describe the attraction he had with Geum Seongje, but cigarette smoke and the stench of teenage boyhood was not the olfactory objective he was aiming for when finding a boyfriend. He ponders back to home, where lavenders and roses brimmed at his senses whenever he’d laze around in his room, perusing manhwas and feasting on anime until dawn became dusk. Tidiness was second nature to Juntae, making sure everything he did was devoted to cleanliness and organization.

Seongje is a hormonal teenage boy with many unresolved anger issues. He's messy, careless and brash. He’d passed his days gaming, yelling over his shitty computer microphone spouting all types of hateful slurs whenever they’d win or lose. If he wasn’t doing that, he’d spend his days playing football or basketball with the boys, driving around Seoul in his sports car, revving up his engine for the masses. 

His cigarette intake is concerning for someone his age. But who was Juntae to tell him not to smoke? With every fleeting moment they spend together, Juntae finds himself getting accustomed to the stench, almost as if he’s no longer appalled by how much Seongje would reek at times.

Which wasn’t necessarily good.

He watches as Seongje brushes away at his teeth, painting his molars a tinge of charcoal. With a blink, he looks at the toothpaste branding Seongje has in his other hand, “Toothpaste for smokers?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles through the paste in his mouth. “This shit works wonders, puppy. Maybe you should try.”

“I don’t smoke,” Juntae deadpans, before running his toothbrush over some water and mirroring Seongje. In contrast, his brushes are soft and gentle, tending to his teeth with great care—opposed to Seongje who was practically scraping out the excess gunk and smoke particles out of his mouth as hard as he could, gripping the sink and leaning over for a better cleaning.

It should weird Juntae out, but he gives him a soft smile, one that creases up ever so slightly as his teeth show. It reminded him how different they were, but somehow still found comfort in each other despite it all. He turns his stare to his reflection on the dusty mirror with imprints of water droplets etched into glass uncleaned, squinting a little to make out his face. The pinkish foamy bubbles mixed with white overflow onto his lips as he alternates from side to side, brushing away peacefully.

“Yah,” a familiar looking man in a mullet creeps up behind Seongje, placing a hand on the grooves in his muscular back. Juntae sees him in the reflection as he sneaks up, but Seongje is impervious, still hunched over the sink. “You just woke up?”

Seongje squints his eyes at Hwangmo, spitting out the toothpaste into the drain without breaking his gaze. “What the fuck are you doing here? Aren’t you taking Mi-na out on a date or something?”

“She had other plans. Sunday is for the girls, Seongje. She’s all giddy getting ready to go out with Yeongyi and her other friends.”

“I don’t know any of those fucking people. You can save trying to name them.”

“What a dick,” Hwangmo jests. “If you’d stop having a stick up your ass, maybe people would want to talk to you.”

“Have you considered that I don't want people talking to me? Pisses me off.”

“…Did you sour his mood, Juntae? He’s snappier than usual.”

“Sorry…” Juntae apologizes on Seongje’s behalf, like the goodwilled man he is, before realizing his mouth is full of toothpaste. He spits it out in one go, aiming for the drain with an apologetic bow. “I’ll try to calm him down.”

Hwangmo grins. “Look at your boyfriend. Well-mannered and gentlemanly. Keep him around and maybe you’ll be changed for the better.”

The mullet-haired man disappears now, slipping out of the conversation and into the shower stalls. Juntae stares at him for a second too long before turning back to Seongje. “We should shower.”

“Make it quick,” Seongje replies, bending into the faucet and draining out the toothpaste from the slits in his teeth. “I have somewhere to take you.”

—

The pondside sparkled in the shimmering daylight, reflecting on the water as the calming waves ripple through. On the pond itself, ducklings brave through the surface tension, taking soft strides and following their mother leading the pack. Juntae pushes up his glasses, picking apart at the formation and counts thirteen of them. 

He picks up the pace, realizing his gap between Seongje had only widened since he basked in the scenery. Juntae still takes his sweet time dredging through the grass in his sandals, the smell of morning rain still lingering in the aftermath as he feels the wet droplets make contact with his bare skin. Beady raindrops coat over green stripes that grow verdant under their feet, as they make their stop resting underneath a bulky tree that provides refuge by casting a shadow underneath both him and Seongje on a sunny day.

Seongje leans on the tree bark with one supporting hand with a grunt, taking off his shoes and tossing them aside. Juntae finds them landing tangled on some wistful flowers that grew alongside the shades of grass, petals of gleaming yellow and bright red. He drifts his eyes upwards to see Seongje taking a seat next to the tree bark, leaning on it as he watches onto the sun in the distance, blinding him from seeing the ducks as they fade into daylight.

Juntae takes it as an invitation to sit right next to him, dusting off any water droplets that may have suspended themselves on the dewy surface. He plops himself down on the glistening grass, huddling his knees and bringing them closer to his chest. “It’s nice to have this place all to yourself.”

“And no one has come here yet, it seems,” Seongje snickers, looking at the pile of burnt cigarette buds on the floor—clearly of his own making. Juntae doesn’t want to rack his brain counting more things than just ducklings and petals, so he shakes away the thought. 

“But then…how did you find this place?”

“Went roaming around after a fight. You don’t know them, but I call them psycho-eyes and trench foot. Gave me a hell of a good fight, even though they had to tag team me,” Seongje let out a hearty chuckle. “So I wandered in the night, trying to take my mind off the sting on my face…and found this beautiful place.”

Juntae doesn’t really know how to register that information. “I don’t know how romantic this all makes me feel now knowing that you found this place after a fight…”

“Oh, puppy… I’ll tell you, the moonlight reflecting on the water’s surface at night? A view to die for. I was coughing my lungs out thinking if I die here tonight I’d be the most romantic thing ever.”

Juntae drags out the silence by not giving him a response, staring back into the ripples of the pond. The ducklings return from shimmering daylight, swimming steadfast to get back onto shore. Tiny bodies shake away the excess of water on their feathers, far too young and soft. 

Webbed-feet roam the land now, as the mother leads her children elsewhere. If Juntae had to guess, it was probably for feeding. Besides him, he hears Seongje let out a soft chuckle, fingers mangling onto the grass and indulging in the feeling. “I wish we were like that. Ducklings that followed someone around without a care in the world. It’d make living a whole lot easier.”

Juntae chuckles. “You would look cute as a duckling.”

Seongje’s smile falters, shifting his attention to Juntae with a glare. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Wha—you’re mad at me because I said you would look cute as a duckling!?”

“That wasn’t my point,” he replies, reaching into his pockets for a smoke. “I’d just wish life was that simple sometimes. I mean I’d miss the skull bashing and getting a thrill out of life but…look at them.”

The ducklings waddle past the couple now, their path staying close to the edge of the pond. They both see several ducklings maneuver around jagged rocks and sharp edges, jumping around hoops to keep up with their mother. Seongje flicks on the lighter with a careful hand over the flickering flame, lighting the cigarette in a flash as he takes his first drag after sunrise. 

“You know…about this morning…” Juntae starts, peeking at Seongje's face to gauge his reaction. When he doesn’t respond and takes another drag of his cigarette, he continues, “I was so worried about you. I thought you might be hurt.”

“I’m way tougher than that. A scrawny little motherfucker and his weakass lackeys won’t hurt me more than a cut beneath my lip.”

“I know you’re strong, Seongje-ya. I never doubted your strength or capabilities but…I’m worried about you.”

“Why? No one has ever given a fuck about me. Whether I get hurt or bruised or whatever. So why do you care?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt. Even if we weren’t what we are now…even if we’d known each other as enemies…I’d still want you to be safe.”

Seongje laughs, lowering his head as the laughter thrums throughout his entire body. “That’s a whole lot to ask of me, Eunjang. We clearly live different lives. You wouldn’t survive in Ganghak with that mindset.”

Juntae knows. Eunjang itself was littered with a few Hyomans, and he’d seen the amount of bullying within the school that has gone unpunished. He was always the defenseless one, how he seized unwanted attention whenever he’d tend to his own wounds after getting berated and beaten by people twice his size.

Sieun had taught him how to defend himself when he saved him from Hyoman. He’d seen how he used his surroundings as an opportunistic battlefield, when the odds aren’t in his favor, and had passed down some tips so that Juntae could at least buy himself some time to flee from danger. Survival was a neccessity—not something Juntae could combat when he’s fending for his life against rowdy high schoolers. 

Ganghak itself crawled with delinquents. Seongje was clearly at the top of the hierarchy, and Juntae could assume he parallels Baku in that regard. But whereas Eunjang is led by the abstinence of violence, Ganghak is led by an influx of it. He could remember how they tore down Eunjang when they won last year, most of them boasting about their wins and egging the entrance of the school, sneering insults over how they’ll never get into the finals. 

Juntae knows Baku well enough that if they had won, anyone who would even think of egging Ganghak or tearing down on their kids would get a good ass beating. Humin is always boisterous and fun, but never when you cross that line.

“Maybe that’s why I’m in Eunjang,” Juntae chuckles, his nerves getting the better of him. “It feels safer there.”

“It’s for the best for you, puppy,” Seongje exhausts another cigarette, tossing it to the pile of lifeless buds. He trails his eyes to see the ducks gravitating to the other side of the pond. “You know how to swim?”

Juntae stares up at Seongje, dusting himself off as he unzips his windbreaker. He isn’t wearing anything under it, and Juntae remembers him demanding he wore something easy and light for this specific outing—so he’d guess it had to do with swimming. He’d toss 

He was right.

“I don’t feel like getting wet today,” Juntae chuckles. “It’s okay...I’ll watch you swim.”

Seongje rolls his eyes, bending down and aiming to pick his little puppy up, but Juntae is more accustomed to his tricks now than to fall for them more than once. He manages to back away from Seongje’s attempt to grasp him, feeling the grass rub against his shorts before twisting his body up and making a run for it.

The wolf lets out an amused chuckle, biting his lip as his teeth make contact with the bandaid covering the cut on his lips. He beelines towards Juntae’s direction, feet stomping on wet soil and dewy grass, and the innocent lamb takes one look back over his shoulder and sees the wolf picking up speed. He lets out a strangled scream when he feels muscular arms wrap around his waist, hoisting him up with ease. 

“Come on, puppy,” Seongje laughs. “Are you seriously scared of some pond water?”

“No! Seongje-ya!” Juntae slams behind his back after Seongje flips his body over his shoulder, stopping towards the entrance of the pond. “Your shirt will get wet!”

“Weak excuse,” Seongje scoffs, knowing Juntae is grasping at straws to save his own ass. He’s already making his way to the shallow part of the pond, submerging himself step by step as Juntae lets out a whimper into his back. Before he knows it, he’s submerged in the pond, blowing bubbles underneath as Seongje lets go of his body allowing him to swim up for air. 

“Ah!” Juntae gasps, drenched t-shirt clinging onto wet skin as he rises to the surface. His glasses are now splattered with aquatic droplets as he watches Seongje rise from the calming waters like a phoenix, breathlessly gasping. 

“Woo!” Seongje lets out, arms moving steadily to keep from drowning deeper into the pond. “Aish…forgot the glasses were still on for both of us…”

Juntae tries wiping away at the lenses with his wet hand, but it seems to be no use. He feels his sandals slip out of his feet from the way he entered the , and sees them floating right beside him. “Should we just get back on shore and take them off?”

“Up to you,” Seongje says, shifting his attention to the waning sun. A cloud hovers over it, providing some time to bask in the sunlight when it’s subdued, the rays no longer heating up the pond until the point where it’s unbearable. 

“I actually thought you couldn’t swim, puppy. But when I saw you come up for air, I knew you had it down. At least all I have to teach you is basketball.”

“Well…” Juntae shies away, his arms still moving in circular motions as he keeps himself at bay. “I used to swim a lot with my parents back home. We live in the countryside, so there were many ponds like this where I grew up.”

“You’re a countryboy, hm?” Seongje pushes up his glasses, swimming deeper into the heart of the natural pond. It’s surprisingly quite vast and the waters are not too deep, but they are as clear as day, almost as if it had never been swam in before. Miniature fishes swim around their legs, moving gracefully as is their nature. “Maybe one day I could come by your house.”

Juntae hums, swimming and moving closer to Seongje, basking in his warmth. “Maybe one day…it’s quite far from Seoul, though…”

“Not surprising. Is that why you’re always at the dorms during the weekends?”

“Yeah…it’s a hassle to go back home when it’s only for two days. I think I might go home after midterms are over…”

“Mhm,” Seongje lets out, before submerging himself in the water and exhaling out aquatic bubbles that muffle his voice before resurfacing. He stares out into the horizon, basking in the beautiful view of a lifetime. The azure sky is strewn with scattering clouds, painting the skies blue and white, and both men swimming smile to themselves sharing a moment of blissful silence. 

They bask in the pond without a care in the world. Time slips by a little too fast, because it’s afternoon when they emerge from the waters, immediately seeking refuge underneath the massive tree once again. 

Seongje sifts through his bag he carried for the occasion, yanking out two towels both in shades of vermillion red and navy blue. Juntae blinks, shocked he remembered to bring his Eunjang towel as he catches it. He discards the wet t-shirt sticking onto his skin, the material being a little harder to take off now that he’d been submerged in water, but he feels helpful hands traverse his body and help him out of the situation. 

As the fabric gets stuck onto his scrawny arms and refuses to come off Juntae’s head, he lets out a little whine as a plea for help. Seongje manages to tug it out, slinging the shirt off with a wet slap, watching as the material dangles in his hand. Juntae stumbles back, regaining his balance—crossing his arms on his bare chest as a defense mechanism. 

He squeezes out the excess water, watching it drip onto the blades of grass underneath him and wetting the already damp soil. He slings the less-wet t-shirt over his shoulder, stomping over to his bag of goods and sifting for open space. “Come get your shirt, puppy.”

Juntae blinks. “You bought extra?”

“I knew you wouldn’t go in the water willingly,” Seongje states, flapping the shirt off before crumpling it and handing it over to Juntae who inches closer to him. 

“You know me so well now,” Juntae chuckles, wiping away at the water droplets on his torso. “It’s sad how predictable I am…”

“I find it adorable. You’re fun to tease, puppy, always have been.”

Juntae exhales, finishing drying himself down and tosses the towel near the open bag, missing it just a tad bit. He pulls the shirt over his head, this time his own—a polo shirt with colorful stripes all across. He looked down at his wet shorts, before heat rose to his cheeks. Juntae could see Seongje’s sinister smile from the corner of his eyes. 

“I won’t look,” Seongje chuckles, turning on his heel and staring at the tree bark. He tosses the entire bag to Juntae for him to maneuver for the fresh pair of shorts and underwear himself. 

Once he is fully dressed in dry clothes, pristine and new, he wraps the towel around his messy hair. “I’m done…”

“Mm,” Seongje lets out a hum of acknowledgement, scratching an itch forming on his back. “Aish, we should really pick up the pace. I think I got stung by a fucking mosquito.” 

Juntae nods before hearing buzzing noises around his ear, before seeing a small creature land on his forehead. He slaps himself smack dab in the middle of his forehead—clearly failing to kill the bloodsucker as she flies away, leaving an enormous handprint on his wet-stained lenses. 

“Great…”

Seongje bites his lip, holding in his laugh. “Pup—” he snorts, “Puppy, you should clean those lenses. I’ll get dressed as fast as possible so this little shithead doesn’t drain any of us dry.”

“You talk about mosquitos as if they’re vampires,” Juntae scoffs, folding the damp towel with care and keeping it snugly. Once Seongje finishes, they walk away from the little ducklings, the beautiful flora, and the sun gleaming rays into their eyes. 

But with the love still blooming in their hearts.

Chapter Text

“You know,” Juntae mumbles. “You should probably shave, Seongje-ya…”

“I should, huh?” Seongje mutters, rubbing his calloused fingers over the stubble now growing out. It’s hindering his handsomeness, something he prides himself with—he was one of the best-looking men he’d known, if he did say so himself. The PC is now flashing an animation of something Juntae wanted to put on, and between the main character having stretchy arms and a wicked smile. 

The walk back from the pond was prompted with another cozy afternoon shower, and only now with the breeze flowing through the windows and the sparkle in Juntae’s eyes when Seongje agreed to put on an anime to satisfy him for the time being. Their hair is still dewy from the shampoo rinse—Juntae smelling of a fresh rosy scent, florals bursting through Seongje’s senses whilst he exudes a mixture of bergamot and smoke. 

Juntae finds himself sitting on his lap once again, as the gaming chair sways right and left in waves of motion, allowing for him to feel content in his arms. As Seongje cradles him, he takes in his softness—an ease that rushes over him in a ripple of tantalizing warmth. It’s something he hasn’t felt since forever ago, and he lets himself indulge in it for as long as Juntae allows him to.

It doesn’t take long for the Eunjang nerd to stare back up at his Ganghak boyfriend, tracing the outline of his neck as his cheeks press against his upper chest. “Can I do it for you?”

“Do what for me, puppy? Shave?”

Juntae softly nods. It’s almost like an open invitation, as he places a careful hand on his neck, examining the sharp patches of hair that rakes through the caress of his fingertips. Seongje snickers, grabbing his wrist without applying any pressure and lays it down on his lap as the ending scene rolls on the anime flashing through the screen. 

“My electric shaver is fucking dead,” Seongje snorts. “The blades aren’t sharp enough to cut anymore but I haven’t got the time to buy a new one.”

“Then should we go today, then? It’s hard to go out anywhere on the weekdays because we’re so obligated to just stay at the dorms.”

Seongje ponders about it for a moment before leaning over the desk with Juntae still seated in his lap to pause on the show. “You want to spend our date getting some supplies in the city?”

“Well…there’s also a movie I want to watch, but…” Juntae smiles, letting out a chuckle. “I was wondering if you would want to go on a movie date with me…even if I picked what we watched…”

Seongje grins at that. “Ah, you want me to spoil you, huh? 

Juntae shakes his head at the accusation, “No, you know that’s…”

Seongje cuts Juntae’s ramble with a peck to the lips, and he exhales, steadying his breathing when he stares back into his boyfriend’s wolfish grin and devious eyes. 

“Then get your things, let’s go.”

“Wait! I still wanted to help you shave…”

“How the hell are you going to do that with a dead fucking electric shaver?”

“The traditional way! Do you people not use razors these days?”

Seongje scoffs. “Have fun trying to find a brand new razor over here. It’s a boarding school. Unless you want to take a fifteen minute walk to the convenience store, then sure.”

Juntae lets out a shaky sigh, clearly bothered but he tries his best to hide it. “Give me the directions…”

—

When Juntae returns to the dormitory, he’s equipped with way more than he needs at first glance—razors, shaving cream, four or five pieces of wet cloth and even aftercare gel. One could assume that he was set to shear a whole man free of his body hair, but in reality, it’s only just a few inches of stumble off of Seongje’s face. 

He watches inquisitively as Juntae strides through wooden floors, laying the bag down with a clank of glass signifying the energy drinks he had ordered Juntae to purchase. Seongje darts his eyes back up to his little lamb, watching as he carefully examines the contents in the bag.

“Just sit, I’ll handle it.”

Adorable.

There’s something that ignites in Seongje when Juntae takes control—like a mad dog so used to barking and biting all of a sudden acting so tamed and obedient underneath someone who truly knows him. Juntae knew how to calm him down, as erratic and unhinged as he was, the only exception to that was and will always be Seo Juntae.

It doesn’t take long for Juntae to grab the shaving cream laying on the desk, still in the convenience store bag, lathering it all over his palms as he wriggles in closer towards Seongje. 

Seongje is sitting on his gaming chair, relaxed and laidback, his arms prompted on the handrests and his head cocked to the side. Juntae blushes a little when his eyes scan Seongje’s posture, but he wills himself to prop one knee on the open space between his thighs and invite himself to take a dip into the crimson red leather. 

He didn’t know why he thought Seongje would just sit back and relax through the whole procedure, because arms straddle around his waist—not pulling him closer—but keeping him at bay, almost as if just holding Juntae in was enough satisfaction. Seongje’s grin grows wide when he sees Juntae writhe before finding a comfortable position, and he moves his hands from his hips all the way down to his thighs so Juntae could have more leverage over his handsome face.

He watches as Juntae slowly coats his lower face—underneath his nostrils and over his cupid bow, with the shaving cream swarming his senses with every whiff. He stabilizes his breathing, watching as Juntae bends forward with incredible focus, his gaze no longer lost and innocuous but of sheer endurance and determination.

Once the shaving cream was on the affected areas, Juntae gets out a wet cloth and a brand new razor, wiping the sharpened blades on the material as he preps himself.

The blade glides on smooth skin, and Seongje couldn’t dart his eyes down low enough to see how Juntae is working it, but he has full faith in him. He closes his eyes as if to indulge himself in the feeling, focusing on controlling his breathing and the feeling of Juntae kneeling on his lap. Every few seconds, he would feel Juntae stop shaving away, wiping away the excess of hair on wet cloth before the blade meets the surface of his skin once again.

“Hang in there, Seongje-ya,” Juntae says as reassurance, and Seongje could hear his eyes creasing up with a soft smile. “I’m almost done.”

“Mm,” Seongje just lets out, still having his eyes closed and focusing on indulging the moment.

It really didn’t take long afterwards, because Juntae is a man of his word. He sooner or later plops down from the chair and Seongje opens his eyes then, darting his eyes to the now pitch black computer screen to see the shaving cream residue all over his face in the reflection. He hears Juntae clear his throat, working with his razors as he switches out the dirty rag with a new cloth, smooth in his grasp. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Juntae mutters, before moving up Seongje’s relaxed body again. “It happens…”

“Don’t mention it,” Seongje replies as a matter-of-factly, “I must say having you shave for me is quite romantic.”

Juntae stops wiping away at his cream-stained face and darts his eyes away. “S-stop saying stuff like that…and looking at me like that…”

“Why?” Seongje grins, pulling him closer and watching Juntae wincing his eyes shut. “I thought you got used to this…my husky voice, my handsome face…?”

Juntae sighs. “You’re as cocky as ever. You’re so lucky I find you attractive…”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Well…”

“Don’t answer that. I know you’re going to say fuckface number one and plaything number two. But who knows? Maybe they like getting dunked on by such a handsome face?”

Juntae cringes, continuing to cater to Seongje’s stained jawline. “Please…I’m trying to be romantic here…”

“Well, keep doing it. I’ll keep my pretty mouth shut…” Seongje spouts, sealing his devilishly plump lips as Juntae continues his work.

It doesn’t take long for him to wipe the residue completely off, before discarding the cloth on the surface of the cluttered table space. He grabs the aftershave, applies a generous amount to his fingers and coats the shaven parts of Seongje’s face. His face coolens upon touch, feeling the burning sensation of his skin replaced by icy cold.

“There we go,” Juntae smiles, chuckling. “All done, Seongje-ya…”

Seongje doesn’t give him a reply. He turns his gaze over to the dark computer screen once again and stares at his own reflection for a little while, making out a cleanly shaven face and his handsome looks. The gel hovers over his skin, with a little bit of excess dripping on the ends of his moustache. 

“Thanks, puppy,” he replies, looking back up at Juntae with those sinful eyes. His hands move from his thighs to his shirt collar, pulling him in softly for a thank you kiss, which catches Juntae off-guard, his lips parting with surprise.

“O—Oh…” Juntae lets out, realizing what just happened. “It’s no problem…”

“So cute,” Seongje darts his eyes from his glistening eyes to his puffy lips and then up again. “You always act so shocked when you kiss me.”

“That’s because you do it to catch me off guard!” Juntae retorts, pouting after Seongje’s complaints. “I wouldn’t be so shocked if you just told me you were going to kiss me…”

“Mhm,” Seongje rolls his eyes, puckering his lips to further annoy Juntae. “Then I’ll tell you right now…I want to kiss you.”

Juntae burns bright red once again, the blood rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Seongje-ya…”

This time, Seongje doesn’t need to pull on any clothing, nudging him any closer than he needs to with that flirtatious forcefulness, because Juntae seals the deal himself. He takes heed when dipping into the kiss, making sure he doesn’t stain his face with any of the aftershave gel as best as he could before he pulls away from the soft peck on Seongje’s lips. 

“You got bold really quick,” Seongje beams, “You should follow your heart more often…I know I’m too tempting to resist, after all.”

Juntae scoffs, muttering a few incoherent sounds before moving down the chair. His knees start to feel the burn through the holes etched into the gaming chair, leaving an imprint of red circles from his knees up to his upper thigh. “Let it rest for a little bit, the cooling sensation should wear off in a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Seongje mutters, twisting his chair over to the computer screen. “Whatever you say, puppy…”

Juntae plops down on his bed, repositioning himself ever so slightly. It’s a shock how in the past three days he had been here, he’d treat the bunkbed as his own space—his safe haven, if you will. “Should we go out soon? After this?”

Seongje doesn’t turn around, but Juntae could make out his expression when things turn banal. “I’ll whip the car around. Just make sure to stay out of any trouble…”

Juntae turns in the bed, opening his social media and entering doom-scrolling for a few minutes or so to kill time. “I sure hope so..."

Chapter Text

"There’s this anime movie I’ve been wanting to watch…”

Seongje gives him a warm smile—the one where he’s just so fond of Juntae talking his ear off about his interests. He always permits it, allowing for his soft and gentle voice to hum a melody of comfort into his ears. It is the same one who is so used to the shouts of vicious competition on the courts, or the strained shouts and threats of people who have the audacity to challenge him to a fight on crowded alleyways. 

“Can't believe we're already having our first movie date this soon. Can't say I'm not a little excited."

“Wait, but…I don’t know if you’ll like it as much as I do…and I don’t want to force you or anything! So…”

“Puppy,” Seongje replies, wrapping his arm around Juntae’s shoulder. “I’m down for whatever you want to watch.”

The entrance to the theater was glistening with shining lights, a little hot to the touch. The latest movie posters had been plastered in close proximity in the usual marketing sense of drawing customers to these viewings. Seongje leads Juntae through the theater, before the enchanting smell of popcorn infiltrates both of their senses, shifting both of their attention to the popcorn bar. There was a group of female friends trying to get their orders in then, waiting for the server to finish performing his job, and Seongje immediately halts his steps. 

“Popcorn?”

“It’s expensive."

“When did I say you’ll pay?”

Juntae grumbles. “Just because you’re the son of Ganghak doesn’t mean you should just have to pay for everything…”

“I insist.”

Seongje walks him up to the popcorn bar, where the server is busy tidying up the counter to take note of their presence, or so it seemed. He laces a firm hand on Juntae’s back, as a constant reminder that he’s there, before handing him his card. “I can’t fucking hold it in anymore and I don’t wanna piss all over this server, so I’m going to use the bathroom. Be right back.”

Juntae nods, watching Seongje lunge towards the restrooms. He recalls him cursing internally in the car for forgetting to use the loo before leaving Ganghak, so he assumes it must actually be tormenting to keep his bladder full for so long. 

The freshly popped kernels and the smell floods his senses, an amalgamation of various different flavors satiating his desires. He surveys the area of ready-to-serve drinks, the reflective surface of the theater cups, and by the time he is done doing a scan of the area, the server focuses his attention on the little Eunjang boy with his glasses falling down his face. 

“Uh…” Juntae stammers. He’s never been a person accustomed to theater popcorn. “What’s the best flavor?”

“Don’t know,” the staff worker shrugs, using a rag to clean his dirtied hands, before discarding it and throwing it across the popcorn bar as it disappears from his view. “What do you like?”

Juntae lightly taps the transparent glass encasing the kernels of popcorn all in a variety of different delectable flavors. There’s a slight tinge, a shade of difference to dissect them apart from the signs telling you what flavors they were, and Juntae skims through every single detail. The overhead lighting reflects on the translucency as he moves from side to side, his pensive nature still hindering him from making such a seemingly massive yet irrelevant decision. 

“Buttered…?” there’s a stretch at the end of that sentence that echoes out a question, moreso a definitive answer. The server is as expressionless as ever, sluggishly moving to the scooper and picking it up with much resistance. 

Juntae takes in a sharp breath, empathetic. Maybe he was having a rough day? Maybe he was covering someone else's shift and they left him here to rot? There’s no telling what could sour anyone’s mood these days, so he’d rather give him the benefit of the doubt. 

The server finally scoops up a massive spoonful of kernels of corn, shuffling it into a cardboard box imprinted of a random movie that Juntae was not here to watch. It didn’t bother him—the sheer extravagance of a signature popcorn box marketed as unique to specific films for their theatrical releases was nothing Juntae felt like he needed. He was here to enjoy himself, not spend his entire allowance on overpriced collectibles.

Once he was done filling the cardboard container to the brim with the popcorn, he slides the scooper back in its holder and shuts the glass door with a slam, holding out the box for Juntae to grab. 

“Enjoy the movie.”

Juntae bows slightly, grabbing the box and walks towards the restrooms, where he awkwardly waits for Seongje to finish. The man emerges a few seconds later, shaking away his wet hands and grabbing onto Juntae’s dry ones, embracing every etch of his palm in his grasp. 

As they inch closer to the movie theater, Seongje catches a glimpse of two tall figures loitering around the corridor, one grinning maniacally and the other's cold unreadable gaze being enough to tell them apart. The color drains from his face upon seeing them—pesky little glares he became acquainted with not so long ago. 

He ignores it for now. Juntae was in his arms, safe and sound, and that was what mattered.

The couple walk hand-in-hand into the movie theater, through the darkened staircase lit up with dim lights that glowed with barely any soul, and feast their eyes as the commercials as it flashes towards the screen.

The pompous Hollywood stars grace the silver screen—everyone has seen their faces, either on their small little smartphones, or the attention-prying billboards erected sky high in the heart in the capital city. They both navigate through the tight space before plopping back down on the seats. Seongje immediately reaches a hand into the popcorn box and throws a few kernels into his mouth as he lazily drapes his arm behind the backrest.

“What’s this movie about anyway?”

“It’s the tenth anniversary showing of Your Name…”

“…What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a good movie…I promise I cried over the ending like a hundred times…next time we can watch a movie you want?”

“You couldn’t even stomach horror movies. There’s no telling you’d survive what I’d want to watch.”

Juntae scrunches up his nose, feeling a sneeze tingling his senses. He lets out a cute little sneeze, and Seongje’s fond smirk returns from disappearing as he watches him cover his face in his hands. “So cute.”

“It’s just…” Juntae says, a shiver running down his spine. “So cold in here? Why’d they make it so cold?”

Seongje smiles. “I don’t think it’s that cold. You’re just too sensitive, puppy.”

Juntae darts his eyes to his windbreaker before gulping down asking. His teeth clatter, trying to regulate his body temperature as best as he could, but as the screen flashes black once again and he feels a gust of iciness brushing past the hair on his forearms and seeping into his skin, he shakes his hand and surrenders. “Seongje-ya…”

“Yes?”

Patience was all Seongje needed. As the next commercial flashes on the screen, he whistles away, seeing more passerbys taking a seat entering the theater and taking a seat on the lower aisles. A family of four, Seongje could dissect as their shadowy figures writhe around the crowded spacing just like he did a few minutes ago. 

“Can I wear your windbreaker?”

Seongje’s shit-eating grin is still present amidst the fluorescent lighting. He’d love playing these little mind games with Juntae, letting his puppy fawn all over him and fulfilling that sense of being needed. There’s a little groan that escapes him when he maneuvers his hands from the backrest all the way to the very front of his handsome torso, tapping his fingers on the zipper as he glides it down. Juntae shivers once again, huddling closer into himself for warmth, and Seongje enjoys the show like the little sadist he is before standing up. 

“Here,” he says, draping the windbreaker onto Juntae’s physique. “Arms up.”

Juntae follows his command, sliding his arms into the sockets of the windbreaker. Fabric ushers in a sense of warmth and comfort as he repeats the process on his left, seeing Seongje somehow manage to bend down in the already congested space in between the seats. He glies the zip down from beneath Juntae’s navel all the way up to his lower chest, finishing it off with a kiss to his forehead.

He still feels butterflies in his stomach with every little peck given to him. Seongje’s lips were a luxury he’d never thought of having, but such treasure must not be explored and expended all in one go. Every kiss was gleaming gold, shining before his very eyes as a relic. 

“It seems like the movie’s starting…”

“It is?” Juntae marvels, seeing the introduction screens light up. “Oh, Seongje-ya…I hope you’ll like it as much as me…I could go on and on about this movie and how much I love it…”

“You talk way too much when you’re excited,” Seongje snorts, bringing a hand up to poke his cheek. “I’ll have my opinions on it, puppy. Can’t promise you I’ll be too generous though, if you want what I honestly think.”

“...Okay,” Juntae gives a firm nod, sparkling eyes reflecting off the projection in front of them. “Let’s watch.”

Until the midway point of the movie, they were…a couple in love. Seongje himself thought the plot was a little lousy and something he’d never touch in a million years, focusing on the beautiful details of the animation instead. Juntae, on the other hand, is lost in thought once again, rewatching this for the hundredth time with that childlike wonder in his eyes that had never waned. 

He felt a buzz in the middle of the movie, before an annoyed hand reached for his cellphone. He reaches into the popcorn box to scoop out any remotely edible kernels and pops them into his mouth before the screen lights up on the lowest brightness level. 

[@baekdongha]

Hey fuckface

Miss us?

Seongje rolls his eyes. He ignores the glares from the people behind him in his rearview, judging him texting in the middle of the movie, but Geum Seongje was not one to care what the public thinks of him and his poor etiquette. 

[@gsxxxje]

what do you want?

can’t you pick a fight with me when i’m not on a date with my puppy?

fucking asshole

[@baekdongha]

The alleyway behind the theater

Be there

[@gsxxxje]

or what?

[@baekdongha]

Or me and Seongmok can break into Eunjang and hurt your little puppy

Whats it gonna be wolf?

Seongje feels his teeth grinding as he reads that last message. So Dongha has the audacity to not only challenge him to a fight, but use Juntae’s safety as leverage? Seongje could laugh at his fearlessness. 

“Who are you texting, Seongje-ya?” Juntae questions, his attention still plastered on the screen, refusing to pry his eyes away even for just a second. 

“Juntae,” Seongje says, running a hand through his hair in the dark. “Wait here.”

“Huh?” Juntae questions, shifting his focus from the silver screen to his wavy haired boyfriend. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Seongje mutters out. A lie. But he needed to get this dealt with as quickly as possible, especially when the threat is concerning his puppy.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Juntae mutters. “I can—”

“No,” Seongje commands, voice stern. “Stay here, enjoy yourself. You deserve to watch the movie, puppy,” he says, leaning down for a kiss on the cheek. Juntae nods in submission, but the worry crawling up his chest and tightening right beneath his heart doesn’t ease as Seongje frees himself from the embrace.

Juntae watches as he scurries out of the movie theater, running up a few steps and exiting. He knows—something must be amiss. Seongje never acts like this unless he has to deal with something, and Juntae knows it has to be some trouble. 

Not long after his departure, a tall, statuesque figure enters into the movie theater. For a split second, Juntae had rested his worries, believing it to be Seongje, but the slim build and graceful posture contradicts everything about Seongje’s arrogance. 

Juntae watches as the man takes a seat in the aisle behind him, in a spot where he could swear was empty when he glanced back for a look. Does this mean that whoever this was came into the theater to watch this movie halfway through? That didn’t make sense—even if the movie had been seen by everyone in this godforsaken cinema, waltzing in here during this time was unheard of.

Maybe he should check up on his boyfriend. 

Juntae lifts himself up from his seat, making sure to crouch as to not interrupt the view of whoever this mysterious man was before making his exit. He should search the bathrooms first to see if Seongje lied to him—which Juntae was almost confident he did, so he starts making his way, his feet shuffling on the ground prompted by a mixture of fear and concern. 

There’s a presence creeping up from behind. A creepy, entrancing feeling floods his body when he realizes he’s being followed. He had always trusted his intuition in this case—and he knew it was that weird statuesque man dressed head to toe in prim and proper clothing. What did someone like that want with Juntae? Every single wrongdoings he had confessed to in secret resurfaced on his mind, as any reason to warrant why someone this wealthy was stalking him.

As if to cut him from his thoughts, Juntae feels the light press of a hand on his shoulder as if to stop him. Swallowing down his worries, Juntae turns back to the man, his innocent gaze shooting up at sharp piercing eyes.

“Seo Juntae. I believe we haven’t been properly acquainted."

The man straightens out his grey suit fitted firmly over his white button-up shirt, watching as Juntae's eyes wobble from dread.

"I’m Na Baekjin.”