Chapter Text
“Puppy…”
He wakes up hours later, with Hongjoong’s playful voice and nose nuzzling his cheek, and a refreshing breeze coming through the open balcony door that swings the long curtains towards the bed. The sun has come up, and even though it’s bright enough to cast intense light into the room without the need to switch on any of the lamps, Yunho wakes up slowly, fluttering his eyes and struggling to win the battle between Hongjoong’s gentle coaxing to get up and the puffy mattress and pillows that seem to want to suck him in.
“Yah,” a pair of hands grab his waist, shaking him like a cold brew coffee with unmixed milk, “Someone’s sleepy today, aren’t you baby?”
“Mmhm,” Yunho whines, because it’s mostly true. A part of him, however, wants to stay in the warmth of the bed, eyes closed, because he hasn’t figured out a way to approach Seonghwa and he can’t shake the memory that’s only a few hours old - of Seonghwa locked in the bathroom and hurriedly talking to his apparently distant mother.
“We’ve got a salon appointment today,” Hongjoong reminds him, “Did you forget?”
Oh, shit, Hongjoong’s right. He had mentioned it last night, and Yunho distinctly remembers nodding and giggling as Hongjoong ran his tongue down his neck and into his clavicle in the privacy of the personal booth Seonghwa had swiftly booked for them when Hongjoong had announced he wanted to get drinks at their favorite night bar.
He’d forgotten all about it, in the blurry haze of drinks and kisses and spit that had ended with the three of them falling on the bed and continuing their sexual trysts until they were too exhausted to do anything else but sleep. At least his schedule is clear until the evening, he realizes as he gets up from the bed and stumbles to the bathroom to wash his teeth and face.
He finds Seonghwa there, swollen eyes and puffy lips, and his heart breaks.
“Good morning darling,” Seonghwa tells him with a gentle smile and a hoarse voice that confirms Yunho’s suspicions. He doesn’t look good at all, not because he’s not handsome or prince-like, but because Yunho knows what he’s keeping from him. Something tells him that unless he asks, Seonghwa won’t tell him what’s really bothering him.
Without saying anything, he wraps his arms around the other and brings Seonghwa's head to rest in the crook of his neck, placing his chin on the crown of his hair.
“O-oh,” Seonghwa laughs tiredly, “Someone’s cuddly this morning. Too early for you?”
Ah, so Seonghwa is intent on not mentioning it, “Yeah, kinda… it was too comfy in bed with you two…”
That earns him a delightful chin scratch and a pet on the head, “You’re the cutest. I’m sorry Hongjoongie booked the appointment so early, but he’s got loads of meetings to attend to in the afternoon. We’re always very busy before a showcase, I hope you understand.”
“Please don’t apologize for treating me,” Yunho pouts, kissing Seonghwa and effectively catching him off guard. The man melts in his arms, and Yunho grins while their lips are locked, “I’m very excited to spend the day with you.”
Seonghwa coos at him, expression visibly happier than before. Yunho’s heart hammers in his chest.
“Let’s shower together to save time,” he suggests, squirming against Seonghwa, who laughs.
“Mmm, sure. Need to take a good look at your butt anyways…”
“Hyung-”
But Seonghwa is already twisting him around, pressing him flush against the cold glass wall of the shower. Yunho yelps, cock twitching with excitement.
“You always get so red,” Seonghwa murmurs, running his palms over the hills and valleys of Yunho’s naked body, paying special attention to his asscheeks and thighs, where the markings of last night’s sexcapades are still red and blooming, “We don’t want these to leave a mark now, do we?”
“I-I wouldn’t mind,” Yunho whispers.
“I know you wouldn’t,” Seonghwa presses kisses down his nape, running his palms down Yunho’s sides and hips, “C’mon, let’s get in the shower.”
♥
The hair salon is situated downtown, at the top floor of a luxury department store. The place itself is packed with customers getting their hair washed, dyed or styled, and even though all the stations seem occupied, the atmosphere is bubbly and happy, the stylists moving from person to person without stress. There’s an upbeat playlist playing from the speakers and Yunho can’t help but bop his head to the rhythm.
Hongjoong takes the lead, striding across the salon in his tall, knee-high boots, greeting random customers and stylists alike. Yunho doesn’t really know what to do, so he just bows and smiles at the people that Hongjoong presumably knows who turn to look at him. Seonghwa brings a hand to the small of his back, “They’re people in the entertainment business,” he explains, carefully whispering in Yunho’s ear, “That lady with the honey blonde curls is the editor in chief of GROOVE magazine, the guy next to her getting his hair blow-dried is-”
“Oh, I know him,” Yunho says, “He hosts that night-time show on Channel 3, something-something Fiesta? ”
“ Late Night Fiesta, yeah,” Seonghwa corrects him, “Some of them will show up at the showcase, at least I hope so, with the lengths I went to to contact their PR firms.”
“Aren’t journalists and magazines the ones who should be asking to attend?” Yunho wonders, although the moment he speaks he realizes how foolish he must sound. Still, Seonghwa smiles at him and pets his head, as if to silently console him for his ignorance.
“While that’s true for well known, luxury, haute couture brands, Aurora hasn’t reached that level yet. We don’t necessarily cater to the same audiences, and that comes with some setbacks,” Seonghwa explains, “But I’ve made it my personal goal to surpass any obstacles that come our way, especially when those stem from a patronizing attitude.”
Yunho nods, taking in Seonghwa’s determined expression, the slope of his prominent nose and the pout that always overtakes his lips when he’s thinking silently. Hongjoong is still making conversation at the front desk, leaning on the counter with one leg raised up behind him, showing off the red underside of his boot.
He clears his throat - it’s neither the time nor the place to get horny.
“Darling!” Hongjoong says loudly - both Seonghwa and Yunho whip their heads up as he beckons them to approach him. There’s another man standing next to him with his hands held behind his back, wearing a black apron with the logo of the hair salon embroidered on the right side of his chest. “Turns out Kun isn’t doing everything in the world to avoid me.”
“I’m doing everything in the world to avoid turning you bald,” the hairstylist, Kun, says, taking a sip from his coffee. His voice has that low rumble of sleepiness, but his expression is inviting, ready to face the day. “You need to tell your husband that he can’t come in here and ask me to turn him into Snow White in less than two days,” he tells Seonghwa, who chuckles and shrugs his shoulders.
“So you’re going for silver-white this time, like you told me?” Seonghwa leans in to bring Hongjoong close to his side, one arm around his waist and a kiss to his forehead, “I think it’s gonna look beautiful on you, Hongjoongie.”
“See?” Hongjoong taunts Kun. From the hairstylist’s expression, Yunho can tell that he’s used to getting pestered like this. “Have some faith in yourself.”
“Mmm,” Kun laughs behind his coffee cup, “Right. You’re lucky I’m the only one patient enough to put up with your whims. You should’ve come in here a few weeks ago, give your hair a breather as we slowly process it. Like him , look at how nicely his hair has faded - oh, hello, are you here by appointment?”
“U-uh,” Yunho mumbles when Kun finally looks at him.
“Ah, fuck, I forgot to introduce you,” Hongjoong brings one palm to smooth over Yunho’s hair in a comforting manner, “This is Yunho-”
“Nice to meet you,” Yunho interjects with a smile, shaking hands with Kun.
“-Our boyfriend!”
Yunho freezes, still holding Kun’s hand.
Boyfriend. “Oh,” Kun smiles at him knowingly, and Yunho only registers his hand falling to his side to realize the hairstylist has pulled away, “Nice to meet you, Yunho. I’m Kun. I’ve been your boyfriends’ hairstylist for a few years now. I suppose we’ll be doing something to your hair today as well?”
Boyfriend. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he breathes out, heart hammering in his chest, “I-uh, I’m not sure what I wanna do yet, though.”
Boyfriend. “Well, that’s no problem! We can talk about it after I finish with Seonghwa. Just maintenance, right?” He turns to the other man.
“Mmhm,” Seonghwa agrees, “Not intending to change the color any time soon.”
“You see how cooperative your husband is?” Kun tells Hongjoong, who pokes out his tongue at him in the most unprofessional way Yunho has ever seen. “C’mon, I’ve put you guys in the back so we can have some privacy. Settle down and I’ll bring some robes for you to put on.”
The three of them are led to a secluded room at the far back of the salon, one that hides behind a heavy gray curtain that is promptly drawn once they’ve sat down and Kun leaves them be for the moment, separating them from the rest of the customers.
Yunho doesn’t sit down immediately. Instead, he walks towards one of the windows, staring at the busy streets that are currently cluttered with traffic as people commute to work. The sky is littered with clouds, heavy and dark, ominously rumbling in the distance.
Boyfriend. There’s a strange mix of emotions swirling in his tummy currently, a concoction that feeds off of thoughts and anxieties that have been laying dormant in the deepest parts of his psyche for a while now. The way Hongjoong had just casually let out, gleefully introducing him to Kun, the way Kun’s smile was polite but knowing - is that what he is? Their boyfriend? Or is this a better, more acceptable term than sugar baby? Up until this point, Yunho has never really contemplated on the technicalities of their relationship. The three of them are much closer than a typical, superficial arrangement for financial compensation. This closeness, this privacy that the three of them have been blessed with is something that Yunho has cherished, basking under it. But now, he’s come to realize that they’re not untouchable to the outside world any longer.
Kun comes back in an instant, carrying three large robes for them to wear to protect their clothing from any dyes or stray hair falling during the process.
“Say Yunho,” Kun tells him as he ties the robe behind his back, “Would you like anything? A cup of coffee, some tea?”
Yunho’s first instinct is to politely decline, but then Seonghwa butts in, exclaiming he’d love to have two shots of espresso since it’s way too early to function, and Yunho’s nerves relax somewhat. He orders a warm latte and settles in his seat.
Since Seonghwa is just there for maintenance, Kun makes him sit at the other end of the room while he gets his equipment ready. Thus, Yunho is left with just Hongjoong by his side, as the two of them look out the window with their backs to Seonghwa and Kun.
“Have you thought about what you want to get?” Hongjoong asks him, bringing a hand to ruffle through his hair. The touch is so familiar that Yunho can’t help but flutter his eyes, leaning into the touch like a puppy.
“Don’t know,” Yunho says, voice small because he still hasn’t stopped thinking about Hongjoong calling him their boyfriend. Now that’s not something you can get over easily. “Don’t wanna go back to brown yet,” he mumbles.
“Wasn’t your hair pink before it washed out?”
“Mhm..”
“Go for an icy purple,” Hongjoong announces with a scheming face. It’s cute. He’s so cute. Yunho wants to be kissed so badly. “Since you went to all that trouble bleaching it, why not keep it longer?”
“Ah, one of my friends was the one who helped me,” Yunho explains smiling, recalling San spreading copious amounts of bleach on his forehead while his own pink dye was seeping into his hair, “He did his first, and I just said fuck it and we did mine too.”
“Your friend from your dance classes? The one with the pink hair you told me about?”
Yunho jumps on his seat excitedly, “Yeah, that’s San! Oh yeah, I remember talking to you about them! San and Wooyoung, I’m closest with them, then there’s Jongho and Mingi too.”
Hongjoong keeps petting his hair, taking turns in smoothing it back and kissing his forehead, each action rendering Yunho even more flustered than before, “Would you like to invite them to the showcase, baby?”
Yunho blinks, “I-invite them?”
“Yeah! San, Wooyoung, Jongho, Mingi and anyone else you’d like to bring. Just tell me how many people there are so I can make sure everyone’s seated comfortably.”
Yunho’s smile is caught halfway there on his upturned lips when he suddenly realizes something. A sound of protest dies in his throat, but Hongjoong has already noticed the sudden change in his expression, because he doesn’t let Yunho lower his gaze, stroking his hair gently to coax it out of him, “Puppy? Is there something wrong?”
He turns to look at Seonghwa across the room. The man has his iPad out and is furiously taking notes with a stylus while Kun wets his hair and brushes through it, sectioning it carefully. They’re both listening to the music playing through the hair salon speakers, immersed in their own thoughts.
“Ah,” Yunho clears his throat quietly, lowering his voice, “It’s nothing-”
“It’s clearly not, baby. You can tell me-”
“A-are you inviting my friends because Seonghwa’s family won’t be coming?”
Hongjoong doesn’t reply - his lips part, words never making it out, but they don’t have to, because his eyes say it all. Wide enough to show his failure to conceal his surprise, lashes still coated in remnants of last night’s mascara, pupils moving frantically as he stares at Yunho.
“I’m sorry-” Yunho begins to frantically whisper, “I don’t mean to involve myself in things I have no place in, I just- he was talking to them on the phone really early in the morning. I woke up, overheard things when I shouldn’t have - I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong’s palm cradles his nape, “And no, I’m not just inviting them for this reason, puppy. You don’t think I’m that kind of person, do you?” he puts on a whiny, child-like voice to lighten the atmosphere. Yunho breaks out a tiny smile.
“It’s not something we would hide from you,” Hongjoong explains, “I thought Seonghwa would have filled you in on his not-so-great relationship with his parents when he first invited you over while I was away, since he’d just gotten in a fight with them as well, back then. But I guess that might have been too soon for him. He’ll tell you the details on his own, probably.”
“Oh,” Yunho whispers, “I see. I-I understand,” he continues, but doesn’t elaborate much, “I’m in a similar situation myself.”
“Me and my family aren’t that close either,” Hongjoong gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Nothing bad, just not very affectionate.”
He pauses for a moment while Yunho rearranges himself in his chair, fixing his robe, “Don’t feel guilty about it.”
“I just, I didn’t mean to overhear-”
“Not just that,” says Hongjoong, “I mean about your family too. Don’t feel guilty for not being close with them.”
Yunho stays quiet. He doesn’t know where these words came from, if Hongjoong has really come to know him so deeply these past few months of their relationship, but, for whatever reason, he’s able to say something like this so casually, something Yunho has struggled with for a while now.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he continues. He takes Yunho’s hand in his, gently stroking his thumb over his knuckles, “You don’t have to tell my husband either. Regardless, we’re still going to be here for you.”
But what if I want to? Yunho thinks. What if I want to talk to you guys about this? Is this some sort of barrier I’m never meant to cross? You two are always so open about everything when it comes to you two, yet you always give me the benefit of not disclosing anything I don’t wish to. Aren’t you curious? Or is this some sort of boundary between us?
“Thank you,” is all he says out loud, leaning in to capture Hongjoong’s lips in a soft kiss. “I didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings by mentioning it… I should have known you’d be aware… that was kind of stupid of me.”
“No, don’t say that. There’s definitely partners who keep their entire lives from each other in fear of confrontation. That’s kind of impossible with us, if I’m being honest. Our families have been acquaintances ever since we were kids. They’ve established business in similar industries… Don’t know if there’s a little handbook that dictates you have to send your kid to a prestigious, international school if you’re considered rich, but I guess connections matter more in the long run.”
Yunho ponders how the two of them would have looked together when they were younger. There’s plenty of framed pictures at their home, from their travels, photoshoots, personal photos of their phones - from changing hair colors to different filters, he’s noticed that there’s quite the variety.
“That must have been nice, though, going to school together,” Yunho smiles at the thought. He’s heard that wealthy families will often establish close relations with each other to assure success, from partnerships to marriage, “Were you two set up by your parents?”
Hongjoong almost chokes while swallowing a gulp of coffee, laughing against the marble cup. His brows are high, eyes wide, “As if,” he clears his throat, “As if anyone from the Park household would ever willingly set up any of their sons with another man.”
Oh.
“It suits you so well,” they hear Kun tell Seonghwa, “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Seonghwa says brightly. When Yunho turns around to take a look, Seonghwa’s smile has made his cheekbones rise high like freshly made bread, eyes crinkling with happiness, “It’s so glittery and sparkly!”
“Turn around so they can look at you,” Kun tells him.
When Seonghwa turns around, both men gasp - his dark, midnight hair has been trimmed nicely, keeping its long length around his jawline and shorter at the back, with his undercut freshly shaved. The newest addition to his haircut turns out to be the tiny sparkling silvers that peek between the waves of his hair, like stars across the night sky. “It’s thread,” Seonghwa explains excitedly, obviously having learnt this from Kun, “It’s tied to the roots of my hair, isn’t it cute?”
“It’s beautiful jagiya ,” Hongjoong says fondly, threading his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair and picking out the slim threads to take a closer look, “They suit you so well.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Yunho tells him, reaching out to hold his hand. Unexpectedly, Seonghwa grabs his hand and pulls him closer, almost pulling him on his lap, kissing him softly. “Ah-”
“Thank you,” Seonghwa’s blush is evident, dark lashes fluttering. He seems infinitely more happy than he was this morning, and that’s all Yunho can hope for, he thinks as he smiles back.
Kun decides to get a head start with Hongjoong, since his hair will be much more difficult to process, so Yunho sits on his chair patiently and goes through his phone.
He watches the recordings San sent him the other day of their latest rehearsal, checking for mistakes in the execution of the choreography and any possible changes that can be made when they meet next time. With focused eyes, he zeroes in on his step sequences, the way their legs and arms extend while making spins and how smooth (and sometimes not at all) the lifts look in the camera. Their footfalls echo in the empty practice room and the music is a poor mismatch of a track that the three of them tried to cut and edit in some dodgy free app. Still, Yunho notices the great progress they’ve made in the past few months while working on this. It’s generally not easy for him to admit that he’s good enough, that he’s better than before - and yet, there’s a spark of hope, flickering with its shy flame in the pit of his stomach.
“Wow,” Seonghwa is suddenly next to him, head resting on Yunho’s shoulder, “Is this you dancing?”
“Y-yeah,” Yunho says shyly, “Wanna see? It’s our practice video for our end-of-the semester group assignment. Here, let me play it from the beginning.”
He tries not to be nervous, but he can’t help his eyes from shifting to Seonghwa, waiting for his reaction - he’s not even that anxious in front of their instructor during their lessons, yet there’s this dire need to impress someone he cares so much about. He can’t deny it. He hopes his armpits don’t get too sweaty as he sits in silence, watching Seonghwa follow their movements with his pupils, occasionally parting his lips in surprise whenever San lifts Yunho up or when Wooyoung is dragged across the ground while spinning, holding onto Yunho’s arm and letting the rest of his body make shapes on the wooden floor.
The music track reaches its climax and the three of them begin their intricate, impressive and downright difficult to master step sequences, dancing in a circle formation, until they’re holding onto each other and finally stumbling drunkenly, falling on the ground in a messy but nevertheless assembled final pose.
“This is…” Seonghwa finally speaks once the video is over and the final frame of San running up to stop the recording greets them, “Yunho… you’re, you’re phenomenal, did you choreograph this all by yourselves?”
“It’s what the assignment is for, actually,” Yunho explains bashfully, “For my contemporary dance class. We create our choreography, perform it with a unique track and cohesive theme. Outfits and styling are up to us as well, as long as they’re relevant to the theme.”
“This is mesmerizing to watch, darling,” Seonghwa says fondly, voice soft and loving, “Ah, Hongjoong needs to see this-”
“What?” Hongjoong asks. His hair is slowly getting covered in bleach and foils, starting from the tips and leaving the roots untouched for the moment. He’s brought his knees close to his chest, feet just in his socks and boots abandoned to the side, AirPods in his ears and a stylus in his hand, writing notes on his tablet.
“Look at this! Go on, Yunho, show him,” Seonghwa prompts him.
So Yunho sits through it again, arms tight to his sides as he nervously observes Hongjoong’s expressions throughout the performance.
“Wow, that’s gorgeous…” Hongjoong mutters to himself, eyes full of admiration, but also something else, a look that Seonghwa is much more familiar with than Yunho, because his husband smiles knowingly. “Look at that movement, wah-”
“Thank you,” Yunho says bashfully.
“Baby,” Hongjoong asks once the video is over, “Do you have your costumes ready?”
Yunho sighs - it’s been a point of neglect over the past few months, despite their instructor constantly reminding them because clothing takes time to make. It’s also been a point of dispute between students and the administration, since the expenses won’t be covered by the school. The three of them haven’t had money to spare for that, so it’s been deliberately pushed to the side.
“Not really, we haven’t-”
“I want to make your costumes.”
“Hyung…” his surprise is evident in his voice and his expression, “What…”
But Hongjoong is already ahead of him, explaining his vision despite Kun trying to pull him back in the chair to finish bleaching his ends, “Oh, I can just see it! The way you guys dance, imagine your movements accentuated by the ripples of the fabrics - oh, long sleeves, definitely long sleeves that flare at the wrists! Need to come up with something comfortable too, to help you execute the difficult parts without being obstructed by any bulky clothing-”
“You really don’t have to!” Yunho panics, “I know how busy you are with everything going on, there’s really no need-”
“I’m afraid he’s not going to be receiving your feedback any time soon,” Seonghwa chuckles, both hands holding onto Yunho’s shoulders, who’s staring at Hongjoong with a look of disbelief. “There’s no issues concerning our work schedules, and even if there was, I’d find a way to make time for this. Hongjoong would love to do this for you and your fellow members, but only if that’s something you’d like for us to do.”
And there it is again - the overwhelming sensation of being cared for, not in a suffocating, stifling away, of having to say yes with a polite, anxious smile. Their eyes are pools of honesty and adoration; one could say they’re giving him puppy eyes while obviously trying to let him decide on his own.
He would have thought he’d be used to this now. The selfless giving, the open arms that welcome him, caress him and hold him tight.
“I don’t want to impose…”
“Never,” Hongjoong assures him. He reaches out to hold his hand, and Kun lets out another aggravated sigh when he has to pull the bleach covered brush away from his head. “Yunho, my love, your dancing is so beautiful, so well-executed. It really inspired me, I couldn’t help it. I really, really want to do this. For you.”
After a moment of silence, Yunho stutters out a response, “San and Wooyoung would be delighted…”
“And what about you?” Seonghwa pokes his cheek.
“I think I’d cry with happiness,” he says, so honest and raw that his throat and nose tickle with the feeling of unshed tears, “I’d be honored to wear something made by you during my presentation.”
Hongjoong’s palms grab his face, a deep, wet kiss planted on his lips, “Ah, puppy,” he whispered against his forehead, “I’m so happy, you know that? You make me so happy.”
In their embrace, Yunho closes his eyes and lets himself melt.
“You make me the happiest.”
♥
“So,” Kun starts playing with his hair once he’s done with Hongjoong, staring at Yunho in the mirror, “Hongjoong mentioned something about you wanting to go purple?”
“Mhm,” Yunho smiles, “Not too intense, though.”
“Then we’ll make it pastel, it’ll fade into a nice white-ish blond.”
“I’d like that…” Yunho smiles softly, “It’s just that, last time I bleached it my scalp was quite sensitive…”
“I’ll do an off-scalp bleach process, so you won’t have to worry about anything,” Kun smiles at him, full cheeks and welcoming eyes. “Now, let’s get started!”
♥
“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up - your hair!”
Yunho can feel his ears getting red again when Wooyoung rushes to greet him, his hands all over his new, freshly dyed hair, “It looks so pretty on you!”
“Ah, thank you… Hongjoong and Seonghwa took me to the hair salon with them this morning…”
“Not fair!” Wooyoung sighs dramatically, “I mean, it’s fair because you deserve the world, obviously - but I want someone to pay for nice things for me too.”
“Guess it’s your lucky day, because I’ve got invitations for you guys,” Yunho tells him, eager to see his friend’s reaction, “If you’d like to come with me to Hongjoong’s showcase at the end of this week-”
“Fuck!” Wooyoung says, “You’re serious?”
“Sure I am! I’ll tell Jongho and Mingi too.”
“Oh this is gonna be so fun! I’ve never been to a fashion show before-” right at that moment, Wooyoung notices San who’s just entered the practice room, “Sannie! Guess what?”
“You guess first,” San retaliates, but gives them no time to answer, “Mingi agreed to mix our track for us,” he announces with a proud smile, “He likes to make music in his free time, he’s really good, and he’s going to have it done by tomorrow!”
“That’s amazing!” Yunho sighs happily. One less thing to worry about.
“Yunho invited us to the fashion show!” Wooyoung butts in, “We’re gonna sit in the front row-”
“Wait, really!? Front row?”
“Ah, probably?” Yunho says, confused. “I’ll talk to Jongho and Mingi about it too.”
“You see, this is our chance,” Wooyoung commences conspiratorially, “You and I are going to seduce some rich dude who has more money than he will ever need and more money than he could ever earn with honest work, and make him share .”
“Right, right,” San agrees hurriedly, used to his boyfriend’s whims.
“I’ve got another surprise…” Yunho sing-songs. “Hongjoong told me that he wants to create our costumes. For our performance.”
The sound of San’s heavy bag falling on the floor is deafening, but not as deafening as his and his boyfriend’s coordinated squawks of surprise.
“What?! For real? You’re shitting me?!”
♥
[me]: sent 3 attachments.
[me]: i think it suits my hair pretty well <3
It takes approximately 30 seconds for one of them to respond, after receiving the photos Yunho sent them - the discreet box was waiting for him right outside of his dorm room when he arrived, the ensemble inside already chosen by Seonghwa this time, since Hongjoong had been busy all day with preparations. The briefs were lilac colored, a soft cotton fabric that was unlined and hugged his waist and ass like he was back in their arms. The top shirt was crafted in a similar unlined fashion and color, tighter around his ribcage and looser around the arms. Perfect for wearing it when he’d dance, with a large cutout in the back that would allow for unrestricted movement.
In the pictures, he sat in various poses in front of his mirror on the carpet - cross-legged, with his legs stretched out, another one laying on his side like a cat asking for pets.
[sh]: you look so pretty baby!! do you like them?
[me]: i really do!
[me]: thank you hyung <3
He knows Hongjoong will probably see these texts later, when he’s finished with his meetings, so he doesn’t worry much. He basks under Seonghwa’s praise, holding his knees close to his chest and wiggling his toes in the carpet. It’s late and his entire body is aching with the phantom pains of today’s rigorous practice, but his mind is wide awake with excitement.
His fingers hover over the keyboard before he types something out.
[me]: i miss you
Boyfriend. That damn word hasn’t left his mind ever since this morning, sometimes lurking in the murkiest corners of his thoughts when he’s distracted enough to not ponder about it. They made no mention of it after that, not even once. Should he ask?
Seonghwa replies with another text, but Yunho doesn’t have enough time to open it before his phone starts ringing.
The caller ID punches into his guts like a knife.
He doesn’t know how long he takes just to stare at the screen, numb with the indecision of whether to hang up or answer.
He chooses the latter.
“Hi, mom.”
“Son,” his mother’s distinct voice echoes in his ears after a long time of having grown accustomed to not hearing it. He’s not sure if it feels foreign or achingly familiar, “How are things?”
He shuts his eyes, nails already digging into his palms. That’s now why she called, they both know that. But he decides to play along. “Good. Been busy with school.”
“Is that why you haven’t called for months? Were you too busy to pick up a phone, see if we’re okay-”
“It goes both ways, you know,” he can’t help but spit out, “Am I the only one who’s supposed to worry-”
“Don’t talk back,” she shuts him up, stern and distant, “You’ve made your choices, sure, but family is still family.”
Yunho swallows the lump in his throat. He wants to argue, open his mouth and just blurt everything he’s been holding inside all his life - he’s only ever dared to do this a handful of times. It’s the only way he’s ended up here instead of holed up in his parents’ house, miserable and suffering. Yes, he’s made his choices - choosing a potential life with a huge debt hanging over his head in order to be free.
“In any case, that’s not why I called you,” of course it isn’t, he thinks bitterly. There’s tears prickling in his eyes already, the back of his throat pulsing with ache. “You paid off your dormitory fees?”
Fuck. He should have known.
He shares that bank account with his older brother - did so for a few years, even after he moved out, before he got a stern talk from Wooyoung and some beautiful but wasted girl at some party about being independent from the financial and emotional hold of his parents that still has him in a chokehold even to this day. Still, most of his financial decisions were made before he worked towards his fiscal independence, which made it easy for his mother to track his expenses and his on-going student debt.
“Yunho,” her voice brings him back from his momentary downward spiral, “I asked you, did you pay off your dormitory fees?”
Normally, this should have been the cause for a celebration - a phone call made out of relief, perhaps even a congratulatory message. And yet, her tone does nothing to conceal her true feelings, and Yunho’s hands feel clammy, his throat constricted.
“I did,” he tells her in the sternest way he thinks he can muster, “Where’s the issue?”
“Where did you find the money?”
“I’m working,” he replies instantly.
“Are you now?”
Her sardonic tone only fuels the pang in his chest, “I am. I saved up and I’m slowly paying off the debt. What’s the problem-”
“Am I not allowed to ask questions now?” Yunho isn’t able to speak up, so she continues, “We’ve gotten used to it for the past few years, every six months without fail there’s a notice concerning your inability to pay off your student loans and your university fees. Suddenly, your brother realizes it’s been paid off. How do you expect me to react?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs, “Be happy for me, maybe?”
“That’s a lot of money, Yunho. Did you save up by working a 9-5, is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Yes.”
You’ve known I’ve been struggling for years now, he doesn’t say. You’ve known and you’ve done nothing because, in your eyes, it’s what I deserve, for dropping out and getting on a bus and coming to the big city to do things my way.
“I don’t believe it.”
“Then that’s your problem.”
“Don’t talk back to me, son,” he could hang up and that would be it, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare do it under her threatening tone. He’s back at home all over again, shrinking underneath her judgemental gaze and venom-filled words. “I don’t know what sort of trouble you’ve put yourself in, what kind of crowds you’ve surrounded yourself with. We talked about this, what sort of people are there-”
“What are you even saying-” he tries to ask, tears threatening to spill because deep down he knows exactly what she’s insinuating.
“I never wanted you to go there-”
“You’ve made that clear a thousand times.”
“-I expected you to come back soon after you left… It's been three years, son. When are you going to let this go?”
He digs his fingers in his bare thigh as a single tear escapes down his face, “You think this is some temper tantrum I’m throwing? That I’m only here just to spite you?”
“You’ve done it before,” she starts shouting, “Made a whole show out of it, running away and throwing every opportunity out of the window just to attend dance classes and live on your own. And I’ve bared the shame and waited until you’d just give up and come back, but enough is enough. I don’t know who could have helped you out-”
“So you really don’t believe I could have done this on my own?” he yells back, voice cracking as he starts crying.
She takes a deep breath, as if considering her words. She never does, is the thing. “You’ve got a habit of giving up when things don’t go your way.”
His bottom lip trembles as he tries to hold in his heaving sobs, attempting to sound composed, as if her words haven’t affected him one bit.
“You have no right to call me… and demand explanations for what I’m doing with my life,” tears and snot cover his face, wet and red with shame. “D-don’t call me again. Ever.”
He hangs up and throws his phone across the bed. He’s still sitting on the floor - his eyes catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His new hair, vibrant and soft, looks like purple pansies around his ears and forehead where it curls. The clothes Seonghwa picked out for him, a comforting hug around his shaking body.
All dolled up.
He hauls his exhausted body on the bed and falls asleep before the tears have a chance to dry on his skin.
♥
[sh]: aw puppy! i miss you too
[sh]: we miss you
[sh]: can’t wait to get you in my arms again
[hj]: you sweet thing
[hj]: the bed feels empty without you
♥
“You look dreadful.”
“No he doesn’t, Jongho,” Mingi nudges Jongho’s waist gently, offering Yunho a toothy smile, “You look just fine, Yunho-yah. Maybe a little sleepy, but that’s okay.”
Yunho knows exactly what he looks like, unfortunately; dark circles underneath his eyes and a puffy, bloated face from crying at any given moment when he can be alone with his thoughts. “Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Is your instructor giving you a hard time?” Jongho’s voice softens when Yunho doesn’t respond to his teasing with a similar spirit.
“Kind of, yeah.” He’s not totally lying - in the last few days leading up to this Friday morning, he’s spent more time dragging his body across the wooden floor and performing the same, calculated movements again and again under the scrutinizing gaze of his classmates and their teacher than sleeping. He has shrugged off the concerned looks San and Wooyoung give him at times, knowing not to push but still worrying. All he does is wipe the dripping sweat that runs a light purple color across his nape, staining his work-out shirts and gets back up, demanding they try the formation once again. “Our choreography needs-”
“Uh-uh, none of that,” San butts in, a finger on Yunho’s mouth to silence him. “We’re not talking about any of that today.”
“Today is all about having fun,” Wooyoung clarifies in a tone that leaves no room for protest, “Now, if only this guy would show up on time, I’m freezing my balls off over here.”
The five of them stand huddled next to each other, winter coats on, right outside of the main university entrance. There’s a steaming coffee cup in Mingi’s palms that provides sufficient warmth for approximately one person, while the other four have to deal with the consequences of neglecting their caffeine addiction, as one develops in the early stages of adolescence. Wooyoung has a theory of how that ties into the capitalistic hellhole they exist in, but Yunho fails to remember the details.
He spends most of his time trying to cheer himself up - talking about his family is something he reserves for when he’s wasted and inhibitions have no hold on him. And obviously, that only extends to Wooyoung and San. Since he chose to not tell them about the phone call this time, he’ll just have to act like it never happened. He doesn’t even want to imagine Seonghwa and Hongjoong finding out.
Not when there’s a creeping feeling of guilt gnawing in his stomach.
“That’s a lot of money, Yunho. Did you save up by working a 9-5, is that what you’re trying to tell me? I don’t believe it.”
“Where’s this guy anyway?” Wooyoung whines again, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
At that moment, a luxurious, shining SUV stops right in front of them - the driver’s window rolls down, and Ten’s sneaky expression underneath a pair of huge sunglasses in an obscene, neon color, “Hi boys!” Even if they cover most of his upper face, it’s evident that his smile reaches his eyes. “Get in!”
The five of them jump right in: the inside of the car is just as fancy, with beige leather covering the seats, wood and golden details and ample space to place drinks and food in between the seats. It’s not Hongjoong’s or Seonghwa’s, and definitely not the car Ten usually drives.
“Whose car is this?” Yunho asks when he gets in the passenger’s seat up front, right next to Ten.
“I leased it,” Ten replies as he waits for the others to put their seatbelts on, “I realized my car wouldn’t fit all of you so Mr. Park gave me free reign to rent whichever car I wanted. Isn’t she a beauty?”
“Wah, this is so cool…” San and Wooyoung speak in unison. “This is what luxury feels like, huh…”
“Nice to meet you everyone,” Ten smiles at the other four from the rearview mirror, “I’m Ten, Mr. Kim’s and Mr. Park’s personal assistant. Now, I take it most of you haven’t had breakfast yet, and if Mr. Park realizes you guys haven’t been fed before I take you to him, he’s going to be very disappointed in me. Does Starbucks sound nice?”
The trip to the Starbucks drive-through is nothing short of a mess, but a pleasant one. After everyone’s been introduced and formalities have been thrown out the window, Ten puts on some music and a conversation begins. They talk about their degrees, university, favorite musical artists and preferences when it comes to coffee orders - Wooyoung’s watered down americano is denounced quite a few times.
When Jongho attempts to pull out his card, Ten gently pushes his hand back, “It’s on the company,” he tells him, showing off the shiny black credit card between his fingers.
While the others are distracted in their own conversations, Ten turns to his side. Yunho is slumped against the window, eyes following the trickling raindrops that run down the glass. It’s not thundering yet, but the sky is gloomy enough to make a point.
“What’s on your mind?” Ten asks, “You’ve been quite quiet today.”
While he and Ten aren’t the best of friends, the two have grown quite close these past few months, to the point of always having lively, comfortable conversations and bickering when they meet, or when Ten drives him to the Kim-Park household, the company or his dorms. It’s enough for Ten to notice.
“Just tired,” Yunho offers, “Overworked. Not getting enough sleep. But I’m under strict orders from San to not think about my problems today.”
“Looks like you’re failing,” Ten chuckles, but there’s no malice. “C’mon, cheer up. You’re going to have a wonderful time with your friends and partners today, isn’t that right?”
Partners?
“Wha-”
“It might be kind of hectic once we get there, but don’t worry. Today’s all about having fun.”
“Right.”
“I saw the clothes they picked for you guys,” Ten says in a tone that indicates this as indulgent gossip, “They’re gorgeous. Yours, especially… Ah, I shouldn’t spoil the surprise for you…”
“Wait, no, now I need to know!”
“You’ll just have to wait,” Ten lets go of the steering wheel to jab at Yunho’s side, eliciting a high-pitched giggle from the other, “See, isn’t it nice to smile?”
Yunho chuckles quietly, appreciating Ten’s efforts to cheer him up.
Their orders come through and the rest of the drive to the Aurora headquarters is spent consuming pastries and sugary coffee between conversation. They ask Ten lots of questions about his work, his everyday schedule and what Seonghwa and Hongjoong are like.
“Why aren’t you guys asking me?” Yunho asks with a faux pout, happier now that he’s munching on a praline croissant.
“Your perception is going to be biased,” Jongho explains, “It’s like you guys asking me about Mingi. I’m infatuated with him, how could I ever see his flaws?”
“Why do you assume I have any flaws to begin with?” Mingi jokes, leaning into Jongho’s one-arm embrace.
“All you’ve ever told us is how good they are to you,” San whines, “I wanna hear some gossip!”
Ten chuckles, “Even if I told you,” he says, looking at them through the rearview mirror, “I would have to silence you immediately.”
“You’ve bought our silence with food and coffee,” Wooyoung clarifies, “You can now expose your employers in peace.”
“Ah wonderful!” Ten laughs loudly, and the entire car joins him in a symphony of giggles. “Well, to be honest, I’m quite satisfied with my job. I love it. Even if Mr. Kim can be kind of a tyrant sometimes.”
“He’s not-” Yunho tries to protest.
“ Tyrant could be a bit of an exaggeration, but that’s what most of the office calls him,” Ten explains, “I doubt he sleeps more than three hours at night, so he’s always running on numerous cups of coffee, and that makes decision making during boardroom meetings quite intense.”
“He sleeps fine with me…”
Ten’s smirks, “You sound just like Mr. Park sometimes,” he laughs.
“He sleeps fine with you because you fuck like rabbits!” Wooyoung shouts and the entire SUV shakes with laughter and cackles.
“Where’d you find friends like that?” Ten asks Yunho after he finally catches his breath.
Yunho slumps further into the seat, face red like a cherry.
♥
It’s no secret that the company always works like a well-maintained machine, its gears infinitely circling and generating power and creativity. Tonight brings no exceptions to its reputation as each floor is a hectic mess of employees and interns running up and down in fancier clothes than usual, passing papers and information from one person to another. There’s a tall, domineering woman in huge, high-heeled boots who seems to be the main person coordinating everything, as she’s sought after by secretaries, journalists, models and workers alike. Ten takes them to the STAFF ONLY elevator so they can get some momentary peace and quiet from all the ruckus, and, once they’ve reached the floor Seonghwa’s office is situated, he starts briefing them on tonight’s agenda. His voice takes a very specific tone, one that Yunho recognizes as the one he uses when he means business.
“As you already know, the clothes you will be wearing tonight are going to be featured in the showcase. They’re all handmade and carefully tailored to your personal tastes, based on what Yunho here informed us. Still, don’t be afraid to ask for adjustments in the measurements before you take your seats and the event begins. We still have time, so don’t wait until it’s too late - in the hour leading up to the show Mr. Kim will be completely unapproachable, as he’ll be backstage monitoring the models.”
“Yes, hyung,” Mingi says. Ten smiles at him, clearly satisfied with how attentive they are.
“Good.”
“Ah, I’m excited,” San claps his hands together gently, mimicking applause, “Are Hongjoong’s clothes as pretty as you described them?” For this question, he whispers it to Yunho, just as Ten slowly opens the door to Seonghwa’s office after knocking.
“They’re like works of art,” Yunho admits, fidgeting nervously. Now that Ten has teased him, he can’t help but let his mind wander on the possibilities of what Hongjoong could have picked out for him.
He still hasn’t been able to shed the bitter taste of guilt that’s been keeping his mouth occupied ever since that phone call. What has he ever done to deserve such kindness?
“Good evening, nice to meet you all!” Seonghwa’s voice is cheerful - Yunho hadn’t even noticed the doors had opened. He’s dressed in a fitted pair of suit pants, a turtleneck and a large, emerald fur coat that’s littered with shiny, floral embroidery across the sleeves. His hair is down, framing his face and accentuating the dark makeup around his eyes and mouth. Perhaps Yunho should have warned his friends that one of his sugar daddies is actually an immortal forest nymph. “Come inside, sit. I’m Seonghwa and this is my husband Hongjoong.”
“Hi guys!”
The funny thing about Yunho’s heart is that it reacts to everything so strongly, many times rendering him weak at the knees with how intensely he feels ; long ago, when his mother still looked at him with an expression of soft features and warm eyes, she used to tell him that his heart was going to get him in trouble one day, That he’d need to become tough to face the real world.
All his heart can do now is beat erratically in his chest, exposing his true, lovesick disposition.
Hongjoong’s hair is stark white, otherworldly, shorter in length but still retaining its mullet-esque shape. Mismatched strands of hair have been curled to point outwards, decorated with metallic butterflies that form a crown-like formation around his head. His makeup consists of simple splotches of eyeshadow around his eyelids and cheeks and nose that match to the colored fabrics of his dress - it’s embroidered with pictures depicting scenes of nature, animals, celestial bodies and people, some dressed in clothes and others flying around in fairy-like wings.
He looks nothing like the Hongjoong he met a few months ago, one that was made of nebulae and pitch-black sky. The sun has risen, and Hongjoong has bloomed under her rays.
“Wah, you look like a fairy!” Mingi exclaims, and judging by Hongjoong’s smile and nose scrunch, he’s hit the jackpot.
“That’s exactly what I was going for,” he says, “I’m fairy Hongjoong, nice to meet you!”
While the others take turns in introducing themselves - some more intimidated by the luxurious power couple than others - Seonghwa sneaks an arm around Yunho while everyone else is distracted, bringing him close to his torso.
“Hi puppy,” a gentle kiss on the nose, “Feeling shy today?”
“Uhm, maybe?” Yunho offers, unsure.
“That’s okay,” Seonghwa plays with his hair, “Your friends seem so lively and fun, they’re getting along with Hongjoongie so well! Oh, I should show you your outfit, you’re going to love it! By the way, do you want me to bring any drinks for you guys? Something to snack on? Might be too early for cocktails, I’ll have to ask for something non-alcoholic…”
“Hyung,” Yunho lets out a weak chuckle, “Are you stressed?”
Seonghwa sighs, “A little. Okay, maybe a lot. Please don’t form an alliance with my husband and turn this against me - if Hongjoong finds out I’m even a little bit anxious, he’s going to abandon everything to comfort me. And we don’t want that today.”
“You’re a lucky man, hyung,” Yunho mumbles wistfully.
“You’re the luckiest one,” Seonghwa teases him, ruffling his hair, “Oh, I have to show you your outfit, you’re going to love it. Come with me…”
Their clothes are placed in the fancy changing room right next to Seonghwa’s en suite office bathroom - an explosion of colors, fabrics and textures, all carefully hanging across a rack with each name written on a tag to indicate which is whose. When Yunho’s eyes finally land on his name, his lips part, mouth hanging open in awe.
The first thing that catches his eye is the giant, stitched on butterfly across the chest of the sheer shirt, made up of beads and gems in blue hues, its wings stretching across from one shoulder to the other. The intricacies of the design are so well made that its translucent wings look almost realistic from a quick glance.
Seonghwa notices him staring, and takes the hanger out of the rack, showing the outfit off in its entirety - that’s when Yunho notices the embroidered stars, ribbons and eye that surround the butterfly, the tassles across the hem of the shirt and the waist cuffs of the loose, chiffon sleeves that hang delicately, leaving the shoulders exposed. The pants, tight-fitted and matching with the shirt in a pastel blue color, are decorated with patches in blockier shapes; they depict hearts, clouds and flowers, sunrays an artistic depiction of two faces meeting in a kiss. The daintiness of the shirt contrasts the canvas-like disposition of the pants, and it’s loud and colorful and full of stories and feelings and so Hongjoong that Yunho wants to cry.
“It’s so you, ” says Seonghwa, “When Hongjoong showed it to me, he told me “Isn’t this just perfect for Yunho?” and I couldn’t help but agree.”
“It’s… glorious,” Yunho whispers, “It’s like a painting, like a piece of art…”
“You should tell him,” Seonghwa places the hanger on the rack again and approaches Yunho with his empty hands, wrapping them around his waist. His chest touches Seonghwa’s, and their mouths are only inches away from one another, “He’ll be so happy to hear that.”
They kiss, and Yunho melts in an embrace that’s so familiar now it terrifies him, “I’ll leave you alone to change, and then we can get started on your hair and make up, hm?”
“In a bit,” Yunho says breathlessly, “For now, kiss me more, please-”
“Oh, puppy,” Seonghwa chuckles, “Right here? I don’t think we can-”
“J-just, take whatever you want from me,” Yunho begs, not thinking much about the whys or hows, or what he actually needs, “Take it from me, take-”
“Shh,” his hyung comforts him, “The others will have to come in and change too,” he whispers, “I can’t take care of you properly, my love. I promise you tonight, once we get home, we’ll be all yours. Can you be good until then?”
Yunho’s frantic turmoil subsides in the minutes Seonghwa spends languidly kissing him, licking into the inside of his mouth and sucking on his lips tenderly. He does so until their mouths go numb and his lipstick gets messy and transfers on Yunho’s mouth, until Seonghwa feels the other relax like a ragdoll in his embrace, until he knows it’s okay to pull away.
“There we go, feeling better?”
“Mmhm.”
“Alright my love, I’ll let you get changed now. Call me if you need any help, okay?”
In the placidity of the changing room, Yunho observes himself in the mirror. The clothes fit him just right, perfectly tailored to the contours and valleys of his body, their opulence carefully crafted by Hongjoong’s skilled hands.
“I don’t deserve this,” he whispers to himself.
Before wallowing in his thoughts any further, he gets distracted by the loud ruckus outside, and he quickly enters the office again to find it in a state of disarray.
“It’s not that bad!” San says in a tone that’s anything but reassuring, “See, just rub it in, you can’t even see it-”
“Don’t touch me!” a new voice says, clearly offended, “Who even are you-”
“I’m Hongjoong’s friend,” San declares.
“You’re Hongjoong’s friend?” the other person asks in disbelief.
“Of course, haven’t we become good friends in the past hour, hyung? We’re all Hongjoong’s friends.”
“I don’t believe that for one second,” the man says, and when Yunho sees who it is, he gasps.
Kang Yeosang is standing in the middle of Seonghwa’s office, with a huge stain of americano coffee on his pristine white cashmere turtleneck.
“You ruined it!” Yeosang protests, showing the stain off to San as if isn’t the size of a large plate already, “I can’t believe this, how clumsy do you have to be-”
“Hey!” Wooyoung shouts suddenly, “Listen here rich boy, as if you don’t have enough money already to buy hundreds of these sweaters. It was an honest mistake, no need to be a bitch about it. Now I’d appreciate it if you left my boyfriend alone.”
Yeosang looks positively gobsmacked, as if he’s never had anyone be this upfront by him - and if anyone was going to talk like that, it would be Wooyoung.
“Why don’t we take it easy,” Hongjoong suggests once the room has quietened down, “I apologize profusely for this, Yeosang-ah. However, it was a clumsy mistake, so why don’t we put this past us? I have something that is just your style for you to wear, and I’ll ask my personal assistant to put this in the wash in the studio. You’ll have it back by the end of the night. How does that sound?”
Yeosang looks like a wounded cat, eyes squinting and jaw clenched, “It’s cashmere, you know...”
“I know. I’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”
“Ugh, fine,” he rolls his eyes. Then, he notices Yunho, “Wait, I know you. You’re… Yunho?”
“T-that’s me,” he says, smiling, “And these are my friends. Mingi, Jongho, Wooyoung and San. We’ll be attending the showcase as well, we’re just getting ready…”
“I’ve got you seated quite close to each other,” Seonghwa laughs awkwardly.
Yeosang gives him a death stare, “Change mine. Immediately .”
“But why,” Wooyoung says snarkily and nudges him, seemingly unafraid of the ticking time bomb that is trust fund kid Yeosang with a stained cashmere sweater, “Let’s get to know each other more , Yeosang.”
It’s going to be a long, eventful day.