Turn Today into Forever (I Don’t Want To Wake Up Sober) 1/2
seunghyun/younghak ; 10,228w ; nc17 ; written for samfrack in jiggyversary
seunghyun is an expensive prostitute and younghak has the money. when lines are crosses and hearts are squeezed dry, younghak realizes just how much more than money he’s been investing.
Younghak is considerably drunk the first time he ends up on that side of town and his vision blurs just enough to validate his knocking on that weathered door. The man that answers is young, probably around Younghak’s age, but his eyes are burning methodically, years of wisdom in each flicker.
“What would you like, Sir?”
Younghak blinks, his insides on fire, and slurs, “Someone pretty... Someone so pretty that I’ll forget everything else.”
The man in front of him nods, lips stretching wide, and steps back into the building. Younghak presses his forehead against the bricks, looking down at his watch and realizing that the man is probably waking someone up. He swallows the self pity crawling up his throat because what sort of a corporate hotshot stays up later than a hooker.
He’s thinking about leaving when the door creaks open, a boy stepping out and glancing around until he spots Younghak.
Black, black eyes stare at him until Younghak feels his palm moisten, and he clears his throat, suddenly aware of how much he must smell like alcohol. But at least, he comforts himself, he smells like expensive alcohol.
“Hi,” the man says, lips parting delicately into a smile that makes Younghak feel really, really stupid.
“.. Hi.”
The man laughs, hands covering his teeth, and motions for Younghak to come closer. He complies, of course, and the man leans into him as soon as he’s near enough.
“What’s your name?” he asks, voice artificially breathless, and Younghak grins.
“Younghak.”
The man raises an eyebrow, but smiles nonetheless. “I’m LeeU.”
“That’s a weird name,” Younghak says automatically, and flushes. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, “I didn’t-”
“No, that’s okay,” LeeU says, ghosting his fingers over Younghak’s thigh. “It’s not my real name anyway.”
“What’s your real name?” Younghak asks quickly, hating himself for being so goddamn curious.
LeeU smirks, but it still comes off as angelic. “I’m never going to say.”
Younghak makes a mental promise to himself to find out.
-
LeeU takes him to a shady karaoke bar, says this one stays open all night and winks. He doesn’t touch Younghak the rest of the night, just sits torturously close and talks. Younghak watches him, perfectly content with simply listening to that voice, and he doesn’t initiate physical contact either. Their faces are, however, absurdly close for two people merely talking, (not that he minds).
“Why are you doing this?” Younghak asks, sleepy and tired and so obviously intoxicated but not wanting to shut his eyes in fear of LeeU disappearing.
“Because I like it,” LeeU responds, nothing even close to sadness in his eyes, and Younghak frowns.
His head droops to the side, and his eyes feel too heavy. LeeU hovers above him, asking, “Do you want me to call someone to come get you?”
“No, don’t, don’t like it,” Younghak mutters.
“What?”
“Don’t like it here. Come with me, come-”
He falls into LeeU’s chest and his mumbles are incoherently slobbered onto LeeU’s shirt.
“You smell… so nice,” he says with a weak smile and passes out.
-
The next time he knocks on that door, he’s completely sober, but utterly nervous. He doesn’t remember much from the previous night, doesn’t even remember how he got home, just a pair of eyes that haunt him ever so sweetly in his dreams.
“LeeU,” he says sharply as he spots a familiar looking man, who leads him past purple curtains. He looks around the room he’s been ushered into and notes the lavender walls, the black sofa, the glittered floor, and the karaoke machine. He almost smiles because the room looks exactly like the one LeeU took him to that night.
“Younghak?” comes a soft voice and he jumps slightly.
“LeeU?” he echoes, and sure enough, there he is.
Smiling vibrantly, he reaches out to Younghak. “I’m so glad you came.”
Younghak is sure LeeU must say that to at least ten people a day, maybe more, but he shrugs of the plastic around those words and smiles back, fingers brushing against LeeU’s arm. LeeU pauses in front of him and they stand like that for moment, so close that Younghak’s belt is touching those skintight jeans.
“I see you’re not drunk today,” LeeU says, winking and bringing up a finger to Younghak’s lips, “That’s a shame,” he whispers, leaning forward until his breath tickles Younghak’s ear, “You looked sort of hot, all unsteady and sweating.”
“I’d like to believe I look hotter when I’m walking in a straight line,” Younghak says into LeeU’s ear, thinking, two can play this game, “And you, you looked beautiful sober. I wonder if you’d still look like that drunk.”
LeeU pulls away, chuckling lightly, and tilts his head. “I don’t drink, of course. It’s bad for the body, makes you fat.”
Younghak laughs into LeeU’s neck, and grazes his lips up LeeU’s jaw line.
LeeU shudders, hands coming up to grip Younghak’s arms, and his voice is skillfully low when he says, “Come here.”
He takes Younghak’s hand and leads him to the middle of the sofa, the leather creaking under him, and Younghak grins up at him.
“What do you want?” LeeU asks, naive eyes such contrasts to his words, and Younghak pulls him into his chest.
“I want,” he says, shifting LeeU so the man’s legs fold next to his thigh and he’s sitting perfectly on Younghak’s lap, “nothing special. Just you.”
“I’m not special?” LeeU jokes, wrapping his arms around Younghak’s neck.
“Not yet,” Younghak says against LeeU’s mouth, eyes flicking up to LeeU’s and then down to those lips. He leans in and LeeU smirks into the kiss. He slips his tongue in as soon as LeeU opens his mouth and he’s tracing, tasting, marking every curve like he’s never kissed before.
“Younghak,” LeeU exhales, eyes fluttering shut as he rubs himself closer to the other, the friction driving them both over the edge. He presses his heels to Younghak’s knees and bites down softly on Younghak’s ear.
“Hey,” he whispers, placing tiny kisses on Younghak’s cheeks, “Hey.”
“What?” Younghak asks, mildly distracted by LeeU’s lips.
“Let’s get something to drink, okay?”
Younghak almost groans at the loss of LeeU’s body against his own, but savors the way he looks, disjointed and turned on. LeeU grins before sticking his head out the door. He says something quietly and closes the door, coming back over next to Younghak, except not on his lap this time.
He puts his hand on Younghak’s thigh as if by habit and says, “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Anything. Whatever you want to tell me.”
“Why so curious?” Younghak smiles, tracing up LeeU’s arm.
LeeU’s eyes flash with something like desperation, but Younghak can’t be sure, so he says, “Fine. I’m the son of a rich CEO, been spoilt my whole life, didn’t appreciate it, wanted to be someone else, but followed my father’s footsteps anyway. End of story.”
“What did you want to be?”
“A photographer,” Younghak answer, waiting for LeeU to laugh like everyone else has, but the man merely smiles.
“Take pictures, then. Just whenever you have time. Like a side, secret job.”
Younghak runs a hand through LeeU’s hair and sighs, resting his head on LeeU’s shoulder. “I will,” he promises, linking his little finger with LeeU’s.
-
So, next time, he brings a camera with him and LeeU’s face practically splits into a grin. His laughter fucks with Younghak’s common sense, and he’s positive he’s going insane when it begins to look like LeeU has a halo around his head.
“Look here,” he says, tapping the camera’s lens, and he clicks quickly, catching LeeU’s off-guard.
LeeU screeches, lunging at the camera, yelling, “Oh my god, delete it, delete it!”
Younghak laughs, easily sticking the camera into the air and out of LeeU’s reach, who still tries his hardest to grasp it. His nails scratch at Younghak’s forearms and neck, so very desperate, but Younghak simply leans back until he falls into the sofa, LeeU toppling over as well.
And, Younghak suddenly has a lapful of LeeU, who scrambles up closer, stretching out his arm towards the camera. Younghak lets him touch it, but as soon as LeeU’s grip tightens, Younghak pulls his arm back, causing LeeU’s nose to bump against his own.
“Well, hello,” he smirks against LeeU’s lips and LeeU’s grasp slacks, hand immediately coming to the back of Younghak’s neck.
“Hi,” he says, smiling into the kiss, and Younghak snaps a picture blindly. LeeU’s blinks at the flash of light and presses his body closer, “You’re impossible.”
Younghak would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy locating LeeU’s bellybutton.
-
It actually takes him two whole months but eventually, he comes to notice that LeeU does all he can to avoid sex. Younghak isn’t starved for action, but hell, isn’t LeeU supposed to be a prostitute,? They kiss until they’re breathless and LeeU doesn’t go any further than rubbing a thumb across Younghak’s swollen lips before slipping away muttering about something stupid like let’s dance, now or take a picture, quick!
So, he figures he might as well give in to his curiosity and he pushes LeeU’s buttons like a patron.
“Shit,” he groans into LeeU’s neck, “You are so fucking hot.”
LeeU’s eyes roll back as he bites his lips, nails unconsciously cutting off circulation around Younghak’s wrists. Younghak plants a smirk on flawless skin and his tongue welcomes LeeU’s like an old friend. He pushes the slighter man back, rubbing against him briefly before gently guiding him onto the sofa. He climbs up on top of him, grins like an idiot, and attacks Seunghyun’s lips.
“Younghak,” LeeU gasps when said man sneaks cold fingers under his cotton shirt, but he doesn’t stop the advances and instead encourages them by licking his lips thoughtlessly.
“What’s your real name?” Younghak says out of the blue as he kisses up LeeU’s stomach.
“What?” LeeU stutters, eyes rolling back when Younghak lets his teeth ever so softly graze LeeU’s nipple. “What name?”
“You said LeeU wasn’t your real name,” Younghak continues, surprisingly calm, “What is?”
LeeU is silent, but that’s mostly because Younghak is tugging his pants down and kissing him right at the pelvic bone. His eyes flutter close and his voice is breathless when he says, “Seunghyun.”
Younghak engraves his smile of victory near Seunghyun’s waistband.
“Seunghyun,” he whispers, crawling up until they’re face to face again, “Seunghyun.”
Something in Seunghyun’s eyes flickers and burns and smokes and Younghak doesn’t think anything else could ever be as perfect as Seunghyun is right this very second.
“You’re beautiful.”
The words spill out on their own accord, because never in a million years would Choi Younghak have said something like that so sincerely. Seunghyun turns white, fingertips digging painfully into Younghak’s arms in order to shove him away.
“What?” Younghak says, panicking slightly, “Did I say something wrong?”
He doesn’t why he’s so worried, because he could just get some other prostitute, one that would actually have sex with him, but his palms moisten in nervousness anyway when Seunghyun inhales sharply.
“No, I just. I’m just not used to…”
“Oh.”
Of course he understands, because he knows what Seunghyun is and what Seunghyun does. So, of course, of course, he understands that no one has called Seunghyun beautiful unless they’re screwing him at the same time. Younghak wishes that didn’t affect him so much.
The original purpose of the night slips Younghak’s mind and he’s home, pumping his erection while mentally outlining Seunghyun’s name, when he remembers.
-
Next time, he comes with a plan. Seunghyun is free like always, having molded himself around Younghak’s work schedule a long time ago, and greets him with blinding smile.
Younghak never has to outright say ‘I missed you’ because that much is evident in the way he hooks his fingers into Seunghyun’s skin, pulling his head back by his hair and inhaling his scent like it’s all brand new. And, he knows by the way Seunghyun bites at his lips that he was missed too.
As the kisses die into pecks, Younghak puts his plan into action. And, of course, he sets up the situation in a way that almost foreshadows his descent: he looks into Seunghyun’s eyes.
He’s instantly lost, stumbling over his words like a hormonal teenager, and he barely remembers why he had decided to look in the first place.
And, at that moment, he realizes he’s hopelessly and tragically in love with his prostitute.
-
He tells himself it’s because he isn’t really so hungry for sex and that talking is just fine. And, being in love with Seunghyun helps the not having sex part somewhat. But, something itches at the back of mind, telling him that there’s more to this, that there has to be a reason why Seunghyun won’t take that step.
Having left work early, he decides on giving Seunghyun a nice, little surprise. The greeter smiles wider than usual and waves his hand towards Seunghyun’s room.
He opens the door slightly, preplanning a surprise tackle and maybe a flirtatious kiss, but-
Seunghyun is with another client. They’re standing, facing each other, and Younghak can see Seunghyun’s long, thin fingers touch the man’s coat for just the right amount of time. The client is young and reminds Younghak of himself, designer suit and polished boots. He feels like throwing up. He watches for a while masochistically, but then it’s too much because Seunghyun is leaning in, whispering something in the man’s ear, licking the skin there. The man grips Seunghyun’s jaw and drags him close, kissing furiously. Pretty little moans escape Seunghyun’s lips and he starts talking dirty, asking the man what he wants to do to him, how he would like him to bend, what he wants to hear. The man looks dazed and turned on, yanks Seunghyun’s hair and bites down promises up his neck. And, Seunghyun squirms like he’s impatient. He begins begging for it and Younghak can hardly see straight.
The room feels too hot and his chest is burning. He tells himself he’s being stupid because fuck, he knows Seunghyun is a prostitute and that it shouldn’t, couldn’t possibly, hurt this much. But, his hand slips from the door knob, shoulders falling with such grief that his mind clouds until all he can see is Seunghyun’s pristine mouth parting to tell him sweet, sweet lies.
His throat feels dry and he almost chokes on his own misery, except he’s too busy walking out of the club, into the street, into the gravel, into the tiny particles, into nothing, nothing, nothing.
-
Seunghyun seems irrationally happy after Younghak finally shows up after having been away for a few weeks. He doesn’t comment on how long it’s been and simply tugs at Younghak’s tie like it’s been too long. Younghak finds that anger dissolves against Seunghyun’s skin like hydrogen peroxide.
“Hey,” Seunghyun says into Younghak’s neck, lips so perfectly in sync with the heartbeat they’re tracing, and Younghak smiles.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Work’s been crazy.”
He’s lying, of course, because all he’s done for the past three weeks is mope around the house, refusing to go to the office until all the walls have been painted purple. Eventually, after realizing that his father wasn’t all that into his pout, he had decided to just go to someone who was.
And, damn if Seunghyun wasn’t making the visit worth it, wanton moans and everything in between.
“Younghak,” he breathes, so natural that Younghak practically growls into Seunghyun’s mouth. Seunghyun smiles, eyes closed in a satisfied sort of way, and tugs Younghak on top of him when they reach the sofa.
Younghak makes Seunghyun sit first and then he sprawls himself out perpendicularly. He leans back and Seunghyun’s hand welcomes him with such mechanical affection that he feels like digging his skull right through those skinny thighs.
“You know, sometimes, I just want to say your name.”
Seunghyun chuckles briefly, runs cold fingers through Younghak’s hair, and says, “You’re ridiculous.”
He almost frowns, because, “You don’t get it. Sometimes, like when I’m outside, just standing in the snow or something,” he closes his eyes, “I whisper your name and it’s like you’re there, wrapping your arms around me and calling me an idiot for not wearing gloves. And, it’s perfect that we could be like that, you know. That I could hold your hand in public and it’d perfect.”
Seunghyun’s fingers stilled a while ago and Younghak is so terribly afraid of opening his eyes.
“I think I love you.”
Fuck, he thinks, fuck, fuck, fuck. Seunghyun is getting up and it’s hurting Younghak’s neck, but he only opens his eyes when he hears that voice shakily say, “Don’t love me.”
Seunghyun’s eyes are dripping tears and worries and broken hearts like no one has ever loved him and why would you be any different, Younghak? And, Younghak wants to curl his finger around Seunghyun’s pretty neck and choke those fears out of him.
Because, look, I’m here, aren’t I?
“I don’t think I can stop,” Younghak admits with a sad smile.
Seunghyun breathes in unsteadily, hands on his hips, and he is looking at the purple walls when he says with a voice so bitter, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a prostitute. You can’t love me.”
Younghak is stubborn and perhaps a little crazy, because he says, “You can’t stop me, Seunghyun. I can love whoever I want.”
It seems like Seunghyun almost wants to laugh, touch his silly pout and say, how childish, except he’s too busy falling apart in front of the one person he never wanted to.
“I, I can’t love you like you deserve, Younghak. I can’t love you like a wife, a respectable citizen. I just could never do that for you and I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry-”
Seunghyun doesn’t seem to realize he’s crumbled to the floor until he’s being pulled into something warm, and he sighs. He clutches Younghak’s shirt and conveys thousands of feelings this way, relentless fingernails threatening to break the shirt’s button.
“It’s okay,” Younghak says into Seunghyun’s hair, kissing him there, “I don’t need any of that. I’d leave the world for you, I’d do anything.”
And, those words only make Seunghyun cry harder. Don’t love me, don’t love me, don’t, don’t, he chants quietly, pressing a kiss against what must be Younghak’s heart. He inhales sharply as though irrationally mesmerized by the familiar scent of stale coffee and expensive suits, and Younghak tugs him up by the arms.
“We’ll talk about this some other day,” Younghak says gently, directing Seunghyun onto the sofa, and he strokes Seunghyun’s bangs out of his eyes, “Don’t entertain anyone else tonight, okay?”
Seunghyun begins to frown as if to say, of course, I can’t do that, you selfish asshole, but his body doesn’t cooperate and he’s already slipping into a slumber when Younghak leans down to place a kiss on his forehead.
-
He doesn’t come for weeks, buries himself in work, and even indulges his mother when she shows him picture after picture of suitable girls. He hooks up with strangers almost every night in a way to let his body know that maybe he doesn’t need Seunghyun after all. It doesn’t work of course and only makes it all the more harder when he finally does knock on that door.
The usual guy, one who Younghak has learned to be called Jinchul, smiles at him as he opens the door.
“We thought you’d never come back,” he says with a friendly wave, “LeeU was beginning to worry.”
He ushers Younghak inside like business and practice, like he doesn’t see the way Younghak reacts to Seunghyun’s name, like Younghak is just another client.
Outside Seunghyun’s door, Jinchul pauses and then whispers, “Don’t break him, okay? He’s already too- He’s been through a lot. If you’re going to let him go, do it now, because he’s- God, he’s going to be in too deep. Just. Don’t break him.”
Younghak almost laughs, because he can’t ever let Seunghyun go and how silly of Jinchul to presume he might, except his throat feel dry and heavy like he’s going to cry any minute.
-
“Seunghyun,” Younghak says simply when he enters. The culprit looks up with those godforsaken eyes and smiles, like he doesn’t even remember last time.
“Younghak,” he says, lips stretching wider and wider until it’s too much to bear and Younghak wants to bite them until they bleed.
“So, how’ve you been? Getting fucked or been fucking?”
Seunghyun’s smile falls, contorts into a pained expression, and he seems puzzled.
“Or, wait, maybe both at the same time?”
Younghak feels like throwing up when Seunghyun pales, knuckles white as they clench on either side of him. But, he can’t stop, not now.
He comes close until he’s towering over Seunghyun, who still hasn’t gotten up from the sofa. He presses a hand on Seunghyun’s heart, tries not to think of why it’s beating so hard and fast, and pushes him down sideway. He puts a hand under Seunghyun’s thigh and lifts until Seunghyun’s all the way resting on the sofa.
“How about letting me fuck you over for a change, LeeU?”
Seunghyun looks scared and he stutters when he says, “What- Why are you doing this, Younghak?”
Younghak grins in a purely unfriendly way and straddles Seunghyun’s thighs in between his legs.
“Stop it,” Seunghyun hisses, frowning.
“Why? You got pride all of a sudden?”
The way Seunghyun’s lips slant tells him that he hit a nerve and maybe broke a heart, but it’s maddening how much this one man affects him and he wants it to stop. If he had Seunghyun just once, he knows, okay maybe he just thinks, it’ll stop. It has to, he convinces himself, because if you’ve tasted the forbidden, what the hell kind of thrill would be left.
He ignores the nagging voice that tells him he wants more, more than this, more than Seunghyun could ever give.
“Younghak,” Seunghyun whispers, his eyes so sad, and reaches out to touch his face. Younghak catches his wrist midway and pins it above his head. He takes Seunghyun’s other hand and pins it back too. Then, he loosens his tie until he can slip it over his head and uses the silk to tie Seunghyun’s hands in a pretty, little bow.
He hates how Seunghyun doesn’t even resist.
He unbuttons Seunghyun’s shirt, making sure to kiss every inch as it is uncovered, and Seunghyun moans softly. The sounds makes Younghak’s mind swim and his touches become rougher, fingers scratching instead of caressing.
Younghak kisses Seunghyun like he’s desperate and maybe he is. Seunghyun responds with equal passion and it feels like they’re both going to die if they ever part.
He harshly pushes Seunghyun’s pants down, cupping his erection and loving the respond. He flips Seunghyun over suddenly and pushes Seunghyun shirt up until it’s bunched up when his hands are tied. He doesn’t notice he’s crying until he sees the drops on Seunghyun’s back. His tears mingle with his sweat and “Fuck,” he growls into Seunghyun’s spine, teeth digging into that pale shoulder.
“Younghak,” Seunghyun whispers out all broken, “Younghak.”
He can’t see straight for a second, because this is finally happening and he couldn’t want it less. He sits up straight, hands stills on Seunghyun’s back, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Seunghyun twists around under him and looks up with watery eyes.
“For what?” he says like he deserves this and Younghak wants to cry until he drowns in his own tears.
“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he says quietly, “I just. You never let- You always stop before things get too intimate and I just wanted to know why. I never wanted to hurt you.”
He lowers his head and Seunghyun shuffles until he’s sitting too, his tied hands resting near his tailbone. He struggles like he wants to touch Younghak, and then sighs.
“Listen to me, Younghak. My job is to fuck or be fucked but with you, I just wanted it to be different. For me, being intimate is talking and sex is just a job. Do you understand? I wanted something more with you. I wanted- I wanted something.”
Younghak almost breaks himself grinning, because finally, he’s not just another client of Seunghyun’s.
“I love you,” he says, this time without hesitation or regret, and Seunghyun smiles.
“Don’t love me.”
“I love you,” he repeats and Seunghyun laughs.
“Untie me, you son of bitch,” he says endearingly.
“Never!” Younghak yells happily, attacking Seunghyun’s neck like all of the universe’s secrets are hidden right there where Seunghyun’s veins always pulse the fastest.
-
So, there’s a new kid in Seunghyun’s place and he’s beautiful. He regrets saying that though when Seunghyun’s face crumbles.
“What is it?” he asks, looking up from the chess board where Seunghyun’s hand is tightly curled around his king.
“Nothing,” Seunghyun says and makes it off like he’s contemplating his next move, but Younghak knows him better than this and frowns.
“You’re still the most beautiful in my eyes, love,” he says, winking, and his entire body relaxes when Seunghyun cracks a smile, rolling his eyes as he does so.
“Greaseball,” he says affectionately and Younghak thinks he can leave it at that, with Seunghyun smiling, but something tells him otherwise.
-
Yejun looks supremely bored when Younghak runs into him one day coming out of Seunghyun’s room. He doesn’t even apologize and instead glares at Younghak.
“Sorry,” Younghak says as politely as he can and Yejun rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.”
Younghak raises his eyebrows, and says, “You always this charming?”
He thinks that’s a hint of smile, but he blinks and it’s gone.
“Yes, actually.”
Younghak smiles good-naturedly and sticks out his hand. “Younghak, a little patron of S- LeeU there.”
Yejun takes his hand with a gleaming look in his eyes that would be frightening if it wasn’t so out of place on his innocent face.
“Seunghyun is sort of my mentor so I suppose it is only customary that I acquaint myself with you.”
Younghak’s smiles falls into a sickened slant.
“You know his real name.”
“Of course,” Yejun chimes as though Younghak asked a question.
“Why?”
“Because he likes me. He must like you too if you know.”
Yejun is smiling wider by the second and Younghak’s head is beginning to hurt.
“It took me… months to- to-”
“I wouldn’t take it personally. I’m just extremely persuasive when I want to be.”
“Yeah,” Younghak says, trying to smile and failing miserably.
Yejun right out beams.
“Well, see you around then.”
Younghak watches him go and then glances at Seunghyun’s door. He can faintly smell expensive perfume and old men. He wonders how many people have managed to know Seunghyun’s name and how many didn’t really have to try at all.
-
“Seunghyun.”
“Younghak.”
“Seunghyun.”
“Shut the hell up.”
Younghak breathes out slowly, willing his mind to memorize the way Seunghyun’s eyelashes curl naturally and cast pretty, gray shadows on his skin.
“Seunghyun.”
He rolls his eyes and looks up from the polaroids Younghak had dumped in his lap when he came in. He keeps a finger inside the bundle to mark his spot and raises his eyebrows.
“What is it, love?” he asks, smiling genuinely sweet.
“I like your name.”
Seunghyun smiles wider, tilting his head, and then grins. He leans forward and kisses Younghak briefly before going back to the pictures. He holds one up and then flips it over so Younghak can see it. Younghak snorts, remembering how Seunghyun had almost dislocated his elbow in an attempt to break Younghak’s camera. He hadn’t succeeded of course and Younghak had spent the next few days sending Seunghyun a copy of the picture in various rose bouquets.
“I love that one.”
“I look like I’m foaming at the mouth. It looks like I have rabies.”
“You look cute.”
“Oh, shut up,” Seunghyun says, but his smile is fond and loving and Younghak wants to kiss the very ends of it.
“I love you,” he says and Seunghyun tenses up like he always does. He doesn’t wait around for a reply, because he knows he’s not going to get one. He takes his jacket and kisses Seunghyun’s forehead before leaving.
-
“Hey, Younghak. Fancy seeing you here.”
Yejun leers as Younghak slowly turns around, today’s payment still in his hands. Jinchul clears his throat and Younghak extends his hand, but doesn’t look away.
“Fancy seeing you here, Yejun.”
Jinchul smiles, “You guys know each other.”
“Oh, we met outside LeeU’s.”
Younghak nods and makes as if to leave, but Yejun grabs his wrist.
“Wait a moment. I actually-”
“Younghak?”
He turns around to see Seunghyun, who’s looking directly at when Yejun’s fingers are digging into his skin, and smiles bright like he always does when Seunghyun so much as grazes his thoughts.
“What is it?” he asks, voice soft, but then he notices a terrible sadness in Seunghyun’s eyes. He tries to make sense of it, but Yejun tugs at his arm.
“We’ll talk next time,” Yejun says, fingers lingering before they let go, and leaves with a small wave.
Younghak shakes off his confusion and curiosity and focuses of Seunghyun, who’s clutching something in his hand.
“What is it?” he repeats.
“I. You. Uh. You forgot your building pass. Must have fallen out of your jacket.”
Younghak grins gratefully and takes Seunghyun’s hand, tugging him close to press a kiss on his nose. “Thank you,” he says, voice sincere and loving, but Seunghyun twists himself free.
“No problem,” Seunghyun says with that familiar smile, the one that teeter-totters between hope and despair. Younghak hates that smile.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, momentarily forgetting that Jinchul is in the room and shuffling around awkwardly, glancing at the entrance like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“Nothing,” Seunghyun responds, smiling wide and fake, “Nothing’s wrong. Go before you get late.”
Younghak hesitates and leaves only after promising to come back the next night a little early.
part 2
seunghyun is an expensive prostitute and younghak has the money. when lines are crosses and hearts are squeezed dry, younghak realizes just how much more than money he’s been investing.
Younghak is considerably drunk the first time he ends up on that side of town and his vision blurs just enough to validate his knocking on that weathered door. The man that answers is young, probably around Younghak’s age, but his eyes are burning methodically, years of wisdom in each flicker.
“What would you like, Sir?”
Younghak blinks, his insides on fire, and slurs, “Someone pretty... Someone so pretty that I’ll forget everything else.”
The man in front of him nods, lips stretching wide, and steps back into the building. Younghak presses his forehead against the bricks, looking down at his watch and realizing that the man is probably waking someone up. He swallows the self pity crawling up his throat because what sort of a corporate hotshot stays up later than a hooker.
He’s thinking about leaving when the door creaks open, a boy stepping out and glancing around until he spots Younghak.
Black, black eyes stare at him until Younghak feels his palm moisten, and he clears his throat, suddenly aware of how much he must smell like alcohol. But at least, he comforts himself, he smells like expensive alcohol.
“Hi,” the man says, lips parting delicately into a smile that makes Younghak feel really, really stupid.
“.. Hi.”
The man laughs, hands covering his teeth, and motions for Younghak to come closer. He complies, of course, and the man leans into him as soon as he’s near enough.
“What’s your name?” he asks, voice artificially breathless, and Younghak grins.
“Younghak.”
The man raises an eyebrow, but smiles nonetheless. “I’m LeeU.”
“That’s a weird name,” Younghak says automatically, and flushes. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, “I didn’t-”
“No, that’s okay,” LeeU says, ghosting his fingers over Younghak’s thigh. “It’s not my real name anyway.”
“What’s your real name?” Younghak asks quickly, hating himself for being so goddamn curious.
LeeU smirks, but it still comes off as angelic. “I’m never going to say.”
Younghak makes a mental promise to himself to find out.
-
LeeU takes him to a shady karaoke bar, says this one stays open all night and winks. He doesn’t touch Younghak the rest of the night, just sits torturously close and talks. Younghak watches him, perfectly content with simply listening to that voice, and he doesn’t initiate physical contact either. Their faces are, however, absurdly close for two people merely talking, (not that he minds).
“Why are you doing this?” Younghak asks, sleepy and tired and so obviously intoxicated but not wanting to shut his eyes in fear of LeeU disappearing.
“Because I like it,” LeeU responds, nothing even close to sadness in his eyes, and Younghak frowns.
His head droops to the side, and his eyes feel too heavy. LeeU hovers above him, asking, “Do you want me to call someone to come get you?”
“No, don’t, don’t like it,” Younghak mutters.
“What?”
“Don’t like it here. Come with me, come-”
He falls into LeeU’s chest and his mumbles are incoherently slobbered onto LeeU’s shirt.
“You smell… so nice,” he says with a weak smile and passes out.
-
The next time he knocks on that door, he’s completely sober, but utterly nervous. He doesn’t remember much from the previous night, doesn’t even remember how he got home, just a pair of eyes that haunt him ever so sweetly in his dreams.
“LeeU,” he says sharply as he spots a familiar looking man, who leads him past purple curtains. He looks around the room he’s been ushered into and notes the lavender walls, the black sofa, the glittered floor, and the karaoke machine. He almost smiles because the room looks exactly like the one LeeU took him to that night.
“Younghak?” comes a soft voice and he jumps slightly.
“LeeU?” he echoes, and sure enough, there he is.
Smiling vibrantly, he reaches out to Younghak. “I’m so glad you came.”
Younghak is sure LeeU must say that to at least ten people a day, maybe more, but he shrugs of the plastic around those words and smiles back, fingers brushing against LeeU’s arm. LeeU pauses in front of him and they stand like that for moment, so close that Younghak’s belt is touching those skintight jeans.
“I see you’re not drunk today,” LeeU says, winking and bringing up a finger to Younghak’s lips, “That’s a shame,” he whispers, leaning forward until his breath tickles Younghak’s ear, “You looked sort of hot, all unsteady and sweating.”
“I’d like to believe I look hotter when I’m walking in a straight line,” Younghak says into LeeU’s ear, thinking, two can play this game, “And you, you looked beautiful sober. I wonder if you’d still look like that drunk.”
LeeU pulls away, chuckling lightly, and tilts his head. “I don’t drink, of course. It’s bad for the body, makes you fat.”
Younghak laughs into LeeU’s neck, and grazes his lips up LeeU’s jaw line.
LeeU shudders, hands coming up to grip Younghak’s arms, and his voice is skillfully low when he says, “Come here.”
He takes Younghak’s hand and leads him to the middle of the sofa, the leather creaking under him, and Younghak grins up at him.
“What do you want?” LeeU asks, naive eyes such contrasts to his words, and Younghak pulls him into his chest.
“I want,” he says, shifting LeeU so the man’s legs fold next to his thigh and he’s sitting perfectly on Younghak’s lap, “nothing special. Just you.”
“I’m not special?” LeeU jokes, wrapping his arms around Younghak’s neck.
“Not yet,” Younghak says against LeeU’s mouth, eyes flicking up to LeeU’s and then down to those lips. He leans in and LeeU smirks into the kiss. He slips his tongue in as soon as LeeU opens his mouth and he’s tracing, tasting, marking every curve like he’s never kissed before.
“Younghak,” LeeU exhales, eyes fluttering shut as he rubs himself closer to the other, the friction driving them both over the edge. He presses his heels to Younghak’s knees and bites down softly on Younghak’s ear.
“Hey,” he whispers, placing tiny kisses on Younghak’s cheeks, “Hey.”
“What?” Younghak asks, mildly distracted by LeeU’s lips.
“Let’s get something to drink, okay?”
Younghak almost groans at the loss of LeeU’s body against his own, but savors the way he looks, disjointed and turned on. LeeU grins before sticking his head out the door. He says something quietly and closes the door, coming back over next to Younghak, except not on his lap this time.
He puts his hand on Younghak’s thigh as if by habit and says, “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Anything. Whatever you want to tell me.”
“Why so curious?” Younghak smiles, tracing up LeeU’s arm.
LeeU’s eyes flash with something like desperation, but Younghak can’t be sure, so he says, “Fine. I’m the son of a rich CEO, been spoilt my whole life, didn’t appreciate it, wanted to be someone else, but followed my father’s footsteps anyway. End of story.”
“What did you want to be?”
“A photographer,” Younghak answer, waiting for LeeU to laugh like everyone else has, but the man merely smiles.
“Take pictures, then. Just whenever you have time. Like a side, secret job.”
Younghak runs a hand through LeeU’s hair and sighs, resting his head on LeeU’s shoulder. “I will,” he promises, linking his little finger with LeeU’s.
-
So, next time, he brings a camera with him and LeeU’s face practically splits into a grin. His laughter fucks with Younghak’s common sense, and he’s positive he’s going insane when it begins to look like LeeU has a halo around his head.
“Look here,” he says, tapping the camera’s lens, and he clicks quickly, catching LeeU’s off-guard.
LeeU screeches, lunging at the camera, yelling, “Oh my god, delete it, delete it!”
Younghak laughs, easily sticking the camera into the air and out of LeeU’s reach, who still tries his hardest to grasp it. His nails scratch at Younghak’s forearms and neck, so very desperate, but Younghak simply leans back until he falls into the sofa, LeeU toppling over as well.
And, Younghak suddenly has a lapful of LeeU, who scrambles up closer, stretching out his arm towards the camera. Younghak lets him touch it, but as soon as LeeU’s grip tightens, Younghak pulls his arm back, causing LeeU’s nose to bump against his own.
“Well, hello,” he smirks against LeeU’s lips and LeeU’s grasp slacks, hand immediately coming to the back of Younghak’s neck.
“Hi,” he says, smiling into the kiss, and Younghak snaps a picture blindly. LeeU’s blinks at the flash of light and presses his body closer, “You’re impossible.”
Younghak would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy locating LeeU’s bellybutton.
-
It actually takes him two whole months but eventually, he comes to notice that LeeU does all he can to avoid sex. Younghak isn’t starved for action, but hell, isn’t LeeU supposed to be a prostitute,? They kiss until they’re breathless and LeeU doesn’t go any further than rubbing a thumb across Younghak’s swollen lips before slipping away muttering about something stupid like let’s dance, now or take a picture, quick!
So, he figures he might as well give in to his curiosity and he pushes LeeU’s buttons like a patron.
“Shit,” he groans into LeeU’s neck, “You are so fucking hot.”
LeeU’s eyes roll back as he bites his lips, nails unconsciously cutting off circulation around Younghak’s wrists. Younghak plants a smirk on flawless skin and his tongue welcomes LeeU’s like an old friend. He pushes the slighter man back, rubbing against him briefly before gently guiding him onto the sofa. He climbs up on top of him, grins like an idiot, and attacks Seunghyun’s lips.
“Younghak,” LeeU gasps when said man sneaks cold fingers under his cotton shirt, but he doesn’t stop the advances and instead encourages them by licking his lips thoughtlessly.
“What’s your real name?” Younghak says out of the blue as he kisses up LeeU’s stomach.
“What?” LeeU stutters, eyes rolling back when Younghak lets his teeth ever so softly graze LeeU’s nipple. “What name?”
“You said LeeU wasn’t your real name,” Younghak continues, surprisingly calm, “What is?”
LeeU is silent, but that’s mostly because Younghak is tugging his pants down and kissing him right at the pelvic bone. His eyes flutter close and his voice is breathless when he says, “Seunghyun.”
Younghak engraves his smile of victory near Seunghyun’s waistband.
“Seunghyun,” he whispers, crawling up until they’re face to face again, “Seunghyun.”
Something in Seunghyun’s eyes flickers and burns and smokes and Younghak doesn’t think anything else could ever be as perfect as Seunghyun is right this very second.
“You’re beautiful.”
The words spill out on their own accord, because never in a million years would Choi Younghak have said something like that so sincerely. Seunghyun turns white, fingertips digging painfully into Younghak’s arms in order to shove him away.
“What?” Younghak says, panicking slightly, “Did I say something wrong?”
He doesn’t why he’s so worried, because he could just get some other prostitute, one that would actually have sex with him, but his palms moisten in nervousness anyway when Seunghyun inhales sharply.
“No, I just. I’m just not used to…”
“Oh.”
Of course he understands, because he knows what Seunghyun is and what Seunghyun does. So, of course, of course, he understands that no one has called Seunghyun beautiful unless they’re screwing him at the same time. Younghak wishes that didn’t affect him so much.
The original purpose of the night slips Younghak’s mind and he’s home, pumping his erection while mentally outlining Seunghyun’s name, when he remembers.
-
Next time, he comes with a plan. Seunghyun is free like always, having molded himself around Younghak’s work schedule a long time ago, and greets him with blinding smile.
Younghak never has to outright say ‘I missed you’ because that much is evident in the way he hooks his fingers into Seunghyun’s skin, pulling his head back by his hair and inhaling his scent like it’s all brand new. And, he knows by the way Seunghyun bites at his lips that he was missed too.
As the kisses die into pecks, Younghak puts his plan into action. And, of course, he sets up the situation in a way that almost foreshadows his descent: he looks into Seunghyun’s eyes.
He’s instantly lost, stumbling over his words like a hormonal teenager, and he barely remembers why he had decided to look in the first place.
And, at that moment, he realizes he’s hopelessly and tragically in love with his prostitute.
-
He tells himself it’s because he isn’t really so hungry for sex and that talking is just fine. And, being in love with Seunghyun helps the not having sex part somewhat. But, something itches at the back of mind, telling him that there’s more to this, that there has to be a reason why Seunghyun won’t take that step.
Having left work early, he decides on giving Seunghyun a nice, little surprise. The greeter smiles wider than usual and waves his hand towards Seunghyun’s room.
He opens the door slightly, preplanning a surprise tackle and maybe a flirtatious kiss, but-
Seunghyun is with another client. They’re standing, facing each other, and Younghak can see Seunghyun’s long, thin fingers touch the man’s coat for just the right amount of time. The client is young and reminds Younghak of himself, designer suit and polished boots. He feels like throwing up. He watches for a while masochistically, but then it’s too much because Seunghyun is leaning in, whispering something in the man’s ear, licking the skin there. The man grips Seunghyun’s jaw and drags him close, kissing furiously. Pretty little moans escape Seunghyun’s lips and he starts talking dirty, asking the man what he wants to do to him, how he would like him to bend, what he wants to hear. The man looks dazed and turned on, yanks Seunghyun’s hair and bites down promises up his neck. And, Seunghyun squirms like he’s impatient. He begins begging for it and Younghak can hardly see straight.
The room feels too hot and his chest is burning. He tells himself he’s being stupid because fuck, he knows Seunghyun is a prostitute and that it shouldn’t, couldn’t possibly, hurt this much. But, his hand slips from the door knob, shoulders falling with such grief that his mind clouds until all he can see is Seunghyun’s pristine mouth parting to tell him sweet, sweet lies.
His throat feels dry and he almost chokes on his own misery, except he’s too busy walking out of the club, into the street, into the gravel, into the tiny particles, into nothing, nothing, nothing.
-
Seunghyun seems irrationally happy after Younghak finally shows up after having been away for a few weeks. He doesn’t comment on how long it’s been and simply tugs at Younghak’s tie like it’s been too long. Younghak finds that anger dissolves against Seunghyun’s skin like hydrogen peroxide.
“Hey,” Seunghyun says into Younghak’s neck, lips so perfectly in sync with the heartbeat they’re tracing, and Younghak smiles.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. Work’s been crazy.”
He’s lying, of course, because all he’s done for the past three weeks is mope around the house, refusing to go to the office until all the walls have been painted purple. Eventually, after realizing that his father wasn’t all that into his pout, he had decided to just go to someone who was.
And, damn if Seunghyun wasn’t making the visit worth it, wanton moans and everything in between.
“Younghak,” he breathes, so natural that Younghak practically growls into Seunghyun’s mouth. Seunghyun smiles, eyes closed in a satisfied sort of way, and tugs Younghak on top of him when they reach the sofa.
Younghak makes Seunghyun sit first and then he sprawls himself out perpendicularly. He leans back and Seunghyun’s hand welcomes him with such mechanical affection that he feels like digging his skull right through those skinny thighs.
“You know, sometimes, I just want to say your name.”
Seunghyun chuckles briefly, runs cold fingers through Younghak’s hair, and says, “You’re ridiculous.”
He almost frowns, because, “You don’t get it. Sometimes, like when I’m outside, just standing in the snow or something,” he closes his eyes, “I whisper your name and it’s like you’re there, wrapping your arms around me and calling me an idiot for not wearing gloves. And, it’s perfect that we could be like that, you know. That I could hold your hand in public and it’d perfect.”
Seunghyun’s fingers stilled a while ago and Younghak is so terribly afraid of opening his eyes.
“I think I love you.”
Fuck, he thinks, fuck, fuck, fuck. Seunghyun is getting up and it’s hurting Younghak’s neck, but he only opens his eyes when he hears that voice shakily say, “Don’t love me.”
Seunghyun’s eyes are dripping tears and worries and broken hearts like no one has ever loved him and why would you be any different, Younghak? And, Younghak wants to curl his finger around Seunghyun’s pretty neck and choke those fears out of him.
Because, look, I’m here, aren’t I?
“I don’t think I can stop,” Younghak admits with a sad smile.
Seunghyun breathes in unsteadily, hands on his hips, and he is looking at the purple walls when he says with a voice so bitter, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a prostitute. You can’t love me.”
Younghak is stubborn and perhaps a little crazy, because he says, “You can’t stop me, Seunghyun. I can love whoever I want.”
It seems like Seunghyun almost wants to laugh, touch his silly pout and say, how childish, except he’s too busy falling apart in front of the one person he never wanted to.
“I, I can’t love you like you deserve, Younghak. I can’t love you like a wife, a respectable citizen. I just could never do that for you and I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry-”
Seunghyun doesn’t seem to realize he’s crumbled to the floor until he’s being pulled into something warm, and he sighs. He clutches Younghak’s shirt and conveys thousands of feelings this way, relentless fingernails threatening to break the shirt’s button.
“It’s okay,” Younghak says into Seunghyun’s hair, kissing him there, “I don’t need any of that. I’d leave the world for you, I’d do anything.”
And, those words only make Seunghyun cry harder. Don’t love me, don’t love me, don’t, don’t, he chants quietly, pressing a kiss against what must be Younghak’s heart. He inhales sharply as though irrationally mesmerized by the familiar scent of stale coffee and expensive suits, and Younghak tugs him up by the arms.
“We’ll talk about this some other day,” Younghak says gently, directing Seunghyun onto the sofa, and he strokes Seunghyun’s bangs out of his eyes, “Don’t entertain anyone else tonight, okay?”
Seunghyun begins to frown as if to say, of course, I can’t do that, you selfish asshole, but his body doesn’t cooperate and he’s already slipping into a slumber when Younghak leans down to place a kiss on his forehead.
-
He doesn’t come for weeks, buries himself in work, and even indulges his mother when she shows him picture after picture of suitable girls. He hooks up with strangers almost every night in a way to let his body know that maybe he doesn’t need Seunghyun after all. It doesn’t work of course and only makes it all the more harder when he finally does knock on that door.
The usual guy, one who Younghak has learned to be called Jinchul, smiles at him as he opens the door.
“We thought you’d never come back,” he says with a friendly wave, “LeeU was beginning to worry.”
He ushers Younghak inside like business and practice, like he doesn’t see the way Younghak reacts to Seunghyun’s name, like Younghak is just another client.
Outside Seunghyun’s door, Jinchul pauses and then whispers, “Don’t break him, okay? He’s already too- He’s been through a lot. If you’re going to let him go, do it now, because he’s- God, he’s going to be in too deep. Just. Don’t break him.”
Younghak almost laughs, because he can’t ever let Seunghyun go and how silly of Jinchul to presume he might, except his throat feel dry and heavy like he’s going to cry any minute.
-
“Seunghyun,” Younghak says simply when he enters. The culprit looks up with those godforsaken eyes and smiles, like he doesn’t even remember last time.
“Younghak,” he says, lips stretching wider and wider until it’s too much to bear and Younghak wants to bite them until they bleed.
“So, how’ve you been? Getting fucked or been fucking?”
Seunghyun’s smile falls, contorts into a pained expression, and he seems puzzled.
“Or, wait, maybe both at the same time?”
Younghak feels like throwing up when Seunghyun pales, knuckles white as they clench on either side of him. But, he can’t stop, not now.
He comes close until he’s towering over Seunghyun, who still hasn’t gotten up from the sofa. He presses a hand on Seunghyun’s heart, tries not to think of why it’s beating so hard and fast, and pushes him down sideway. He puts a hand under Seunghyun’s thigh and lifts until Seunghyun’s all the way resting on the sofa.
“How about letting me fuck you over for a change, LeeU?”
Seunghyun looks scared and he stutters when he says, “What- Why are you doing this, Younghak?”
Younghak grins in a purely unfriendly way and straddles Seunghyun’s thighs in between his legs.
“Stop it,” Seunghyun hisses, frowning.
“Why? You got pride all of a sudden?”
The way Seunghyun’s lips slant tells him that he hit a nerve and maybe broke a heart, but it’s maddening how much this one man affects him and he wants it to stop. If he had Seunghyun just once, he knows, okay maybe he just thinks, it’ll stop. It has to, he convinces himself, because if you’ve tasted the forbidden, what the hell kind of thrill would be left.
He ignores the nagging voice that tells him he wants more, more than this, more than Seunghyun could ever give.
“Younghak,” Seunghyun whispers, his eyes so sad, and reaches out to touch his face. Younghak catches his wrist midway and pins it above his head. He takes Seunghyun’s other hand and pins it back too. Then, he loosens his tie until he can slip it over his head and uses the silk to tie Seunghyun’s hands in a pretty, little bow.
He hates how Seunghyun doesn’t even resist.
He unbuttons Seunghyun’s shirt, making sure to kiss every inch as it is uncovered, and Seunghyun moans softly. The sounds makes Younghak’s mind swim and his touches become rougher, fingers scratching instead of caressing.
Younghak kisses Seunghyun like he’s desperate and maybe he is. Seunghyun responds with equal passion and it feels like they’re both going to die if they ever part.
He harshly pushes Seunghyun’s pants down, cupping his erection and loving the respond. He flips Seunghyun over suddenly and pushes Seunghyun shirt up until it’s bunched up when his hands are tied. He doesn’t notice he’s crying until he sees the drops on Seunghyun’s back. His tears mingle with his sweat and “Fuck,” he growls into Seunghyun’s spine, teeth digging into that pale shoulder.
“Younghak,” Seunghyun whispers out all broken, “Younghak.”
He can’t see straight for a second, because this is finally happening and he couldn’t want it less. He sits up straight, hands stills on Seunghyun’s back, and says, “I’m sorry.”
Seunghyun twists around under him and looks up with watery eyes.
“For what?” he says like he deserves this and Younghak wants to cry until he drowns in his own tears.
“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he says quietly, “I just. You never let- You always stop before things get too intimate and I just wanted to know why. I never wanted to hurt you.”
He lowers his head and Seunghyun shuffles until he’s sitting too, his tied hands resting near his tailbone. He struggles like he wants to touch Younghak, and then sighs.
“Listen to me, Younghak. My job is to fuck or be fucked but with you, I just wanted it to be different. For me, being intimate is talking and sex is just a job. Do you understand? I wanted something more with you. I wanted- I wanted something.”
Younghak almost breaks himself grinning, because finally, he’s not just another client of Seunghyun’s.
“I love you,” he says, this time without hesitation or regret, and Seunghyun smiles.
“Don’t love me.”
“I love you,” he repeats and Seunghyun laughs.
“Untie me, you son of bitch,” he says endearingly.
“Never!” Younghak yells happily, attacking Seunghyun’s neck like all of the universe’s secrets are hidden right there where Seunghyun’s veins always pulse the fastest.
-
So, there’s a new kid in Seunghyun’s place and he’s beautiful. He regrets saying that though when Seunghyun’s face crumbles.
“What is it?” he asks, looking up from the chess board where Seunghyun’s hand is tightly curled around his king.
“Nothing,” Seunghyun says and makes it off like he’s contemplating his next move, but Younghak knows him better than this and frowns.
“You’re still the most beautiful in my eyes, love,” he says, winking, and his entire body relaxes when Seunghyun cracks a smile, rolling his eyes as he does so.
“Greaseball,” he says affectionately and Younghak thinks he can leave it at that, with Seunghyun smiling, but something tells him otherwise.
-
Yejun looks supremely bored when Younghak runs into him one day coming out of Seunghyun’s room. He doesn’t even apologize and instead glares at Younghak.
“Sorry,” Younghak says as politely as he can and Yejun rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.”
Younghak raises his eyebrows, and says, “You always this charming?”
He thinks that’s a hint of smile, but he blinks and it’s gone.
“Yes, actually.”
Younghak smiles good-naturedly and sticks out his hand. “Younghak, a little patron of S- LeeU there.”
Yejun takes his hand with a gleaming look in his eyes that would be frightening if it wasn’t so out of place on his innocent face.
“Seunghyun is sort of my mentor so I suppose it is only customary that I acquaint myself with you.”
Younghak’s smiles falls into a sickened slant.
“You know his real name.”
“Of course,” Yejun chimes as though Younghak asked a question.
“Why?”
“Because he likes me. He must like you too if you know.”
Yejun is smiling wider by the second and Younghak’s head is beginning to hurt.
“It took me… months to- to-”
“I wouldn’t take it personally. I’m just extremely persuasive when I want to be.”
“Yeah,” Younghak says, trying to smile and failing miserably.
Yejun right out beams.
“Well, see you around then.”
Younghak watches him go and then glances at Seunghyun’s door. He can faintly smell expensive perfume and old men. He wonders how many people have managed to know Seunghyun’s name and how many didn’t really have to try at all.
-
“Seunghyun.”
“Younghak.”
“Seunghyun.”
“Shut the hell up.”
Younghak breathes out slowly, willing his mind to memorize the way Seunghyun’s eyelashes curl naturally and cast pretty, gray shadows on his skin.
“Seunghyun.”
He rolls his eyes and looks up from the polaroids Younghak had dumped in his lap when he came in. He keeps a finger inside the bundle to mark his spot and raises his eyebrows.
“What is it, love?” he asks, smiling genuinely sweet.
“I like your name.”
Seunghyun smiles wider, tilting his head, and then grins. He leans forward and kisses Younghak briefly before going back to the pictures. He holds one up and then flips it over so Younghak can see it. Younghak snorts, remembering how Seunghyun had almost dislocated his elbow in an attempt to break Younghak’s camera. He hadn’t succeeded of course and Younghak had spent the next few days sending Seunghyun a copy of the picture in various rose bouquets.
“I love that one.”
“I look like I’m foaming at the mouth. It looks like I have rabies.”
“You look cute.”
“Oh, shut up,” Seunghyun says, but his smile is fond and loving and Younghak wants to kiss the very ends of it.
“I love you,” he says and Seunghyun tenses up like he always does. He doesn’t wait around for a reply, because he knows he’s not going to get one. He takes his jacket and kisses Seunghyun’s forehead before leaving.
-
“Hey, Younghak. Fancy seeing you here.”
Yejun leers as Younghak slowly turns around, today’s payment still in his hands. Jinchul clears his throat and Younghak extends his hand, but doesn’t look away.
“Fancy seeing you here, Yejun.”
Jinchul smiles, “You guys know each other.”
“Oh, we met outside LeeU’s.”
Younghak nods and makes as if to leave, but Yejun grabs his wrist.
“Wait a moment. I actually-”
“Younghak?”
He turns around to see Seunghyun, who’s looking directly at when Yejun’s fingers are digging into his skin, and smiles bright like he always does when Seunghyun so much as grazes his thoughts.
“What is it?” he asks, voice soft, but then he notices a terrible sadness in Seunghyun’s eyes. He tries to make sense of it, but Yejun tugs at his arm.
“We’ll talk next time,” Yejun says, fingers lingering before they let go, and leaves with a small wave.
Younghak shakes off his confusion and curiosity and focuses of Seunghyun, who’s clutching something in his hand.
“What is it?” he repeats.
“I. You. Uh. You forgot your building pass. Must have fallen out of your jacket.”
Younghak grins gratefully and takes Seunghyun’s hand, tugging him close to press a kiss on his nose. “Thank you,” he says, voice sincere and loving, but Seunghyun twists himself free.
“No problem,” Seunghyun says with that familiar smile, the one that teeter-totters between hope and despair. Younghak hates that smile.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, momentarily forgetting that Jinchul is in the room and shuffling around awkwardly, glancing at the entrance like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“Nothing,” Seunghyun responds, smiling wide and fake, “Nothing’s wrong. Go before you get late.”
Younghak hesitates and leaves only after promising to come back the next night a little early.
part 2