Chapter Text
It started off well-intentioned.
“Soobin hyung,” Huening Kai called with his sweet voice as he slid into the empty seat beside Soobin’s desk. There were only a few students in the classroom during the lunch break since it was sunny outside. “Guess what?”
Although they were in different years, Kai often made his way to Soobin’s classroom to talk to him, as he knew that would be where Soobin preferred to spend his lunch breaks. Soobin disliked spaces with lots of people.
“Hey, Huening Kai! What’s up?” Soobin was rarely excited to interact with others but Kai, the human embodiment of cuteness and happiness, was an exception. Even though Soobin was alarmingly introverted and embarrassingly awkward, an unfortunate combination for a very tall teen, Kai had somehow befriended him. Soobin didn’t have many friends to begin with and he found it difficult to form friendships, but being friends with Kai was simple and easy. Part of it was because Kai came from a similar socioeconomic sphere of life, so Kai understood why Soobin kept to himself and never pressured him to be sociable.
“So, I have this hyung…” Kai started, and Soobin wanted to stop him there.
“Kai, come on. You know I don’t want to date right now.” Or ever. Soobin’s parents would probably kill him if his academics went downhill just because he decided romance was relevant. Already knee-deep in private tuition and having no life, he was only a few months away from entering his final year and having to complete the dreaded university entrance exams. Now was not the time.
“I know. I know. But, just have a look. He’s cute, I promise.” Kai spoke quietly as he flicked open a photo on his phone and shoved it in front of Soobin. Kai was also the only person Soobin had come out to. “His name is Choi Yeonjun. He’s a year older than you.”
Since Kai seemed so excited, Soobin sighed in defeat and accepted the phone, looking at the photo. He was used to this kind of activity whenever classmates talked about their newest favourite girl group but he hadn’t expected it from sweet, innocent Kai of all people.
Yeonjun wore his dyed bubblegum pink hair like he wasn’t afraid of people gossiping about him or watching him, his confidence oozing through the photo. His striking cat-like eyes and pouty glossy lips made him look both sexy and pretty. He was so good-looking that he undoubtedly captured the undying curiosity of others, and in turn, the malicious rumour mill.
There was no way Soobin could date someone like him. Yeonjun wasn’t the type to even spare Soobin a glance. Yeonjun was an It Boy, while Soobin was just a loser in high school, scared of any sort of attention.
“I’m surprised his school let him dye his hair that colour,” Soobin said, unsure of what else to comment on. He didn’t want his negativity and over-thinking to win in this exchange. He returned Kai’s phone. “He’s cute, I guess. But out of my league. And not a good idea at all. So, let’s just drop it.”
“Okay, well, good thing I am the best dongsaeng ever and already planned a date for the two of you!” Kai squealed, ignoring Soobin’s self-deprecating comments, and clapped his hands together in his excitement. He shot Soobin an over-the-top wink. “I also gave Yeonjun hyung your number, so check your KaTalk, okay?”
Soobin pursed his lips, anxiety welling in his guts. Yeonjun was far too attractive to not reject him the moment they saw each other.
But Kai seemed genuinely happy and Soobin didn’t know how to say no.
So, that was how it started.
//
The first time Soobin met Yeonjun was at a popular, bustling cafe in Yongsan. Soobin had insisted Kai keep him company until Yeonjun arrived. Despite the fact that they were in different years, Kai had served as a study buddy excuse when his mother asked where he was going. Fortunately, Kai had a bamboozling effect on Soobin’s parents with his cute mannerisms so it worked out for them. They would never suspect Kai was the one to set Soobin up with someone.
Leg bouncing underneath the table, Soobin was nervous. He had dressed as fashionably as he could: white button-down shirt, black ripped jeans, and black canvas shoes. Kai reassured him that he looked handsome. But Kai was also legally obligated to say those sorts of things as his best friend, so Soobin didn’t believe him.
“Ah, here comes Yeonjun hyung!” Kai pointed out, waving his hand at the approaching figure.
Feeling light-headed, Soobin hoped his face wasn’t contorted in an uneasy grimace.
Yeonjun stood out from the crowd with his now dyed blond hair and stylish choice of outfit: a white V-neck knit shirt, beige shorts that showed off his long legs, and black lace-up platform boots. His shapely legs were smooth and hairless, and Soobin tried not to stare too long at the bare skin showing. He wasn’t thirsty.
Why had Kai thought this was a good idea? Yeonjun was beauty and grace and could probably stomp Soobin in the face.
“Dread it. Run from it. Destiny still arrives,” Yeonjun declared with a flourish as he sat down opposite Soobin.
Soobin perked up at the Avengers reference. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad since it seemed like they had at least one common interest.
Yeonjun dropped his designer bag on the seat, hugging Kai beside him. “Hey, Hueningie. Nice to see you.” Then he turned to look at Soobin, a small smirk appearing. “Choi Soobin? Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Soobin replied too fast. Breaking the gaze, he stared down at the napkin in front of him. A blush was already forming on his cheeks, heat warming his ears.
“Okay, well, I will leave the two of you now to get to know each other,” Kai said, and Soobin looked up again to plead with his eyes, begging him to stay. There was no way Soobin could handle a date with Yeonjun. If he wasn’t already sitting, he would have passed out from meeting the personification of a gay awakening in front of him.
Kai smiled at the both of them, bowing his head. He mouthed, “You can do this,” to Soobin before he left.
Soobin could not do this.
Kai had overestimated him.
Yeonjun had puzzlingly been deceived into thinking Soobin was someone worthy of his time.
Glaring at his napkin like it had personally offended him, Soobin tried to think up an excuse and he managed to mumble, “I have explosive diarrhoea.”
“What?” Yeonjun levelled a confused but amused expression at him, trying to hold in his laughter.
“I’m so sorry, Yeonjun hyung. I don’t think I can do this.” Soobin rose from his seat, regretting it almost immediately as he peered down at Yeonjun’s disappointed face. How was Soobin meant to explain that he had butterflies in his tummy for someone he had just met? That sitting in front of someone as beautiful as Yeonjun had his anxiety bumped up a thousand-fold? That he was a mess of a person and didn’t think Yeonjun deserved that?
“Wait.” Yeonjun grabbed his hand, blinking up at him with a frown. “We can go somewhere quieter, if you want. I know it can feel a bit awkward hanging out with someone like me in public.”
Soobin was unsure what Yeonjun meant by awkward. It was awkward for Soobin because he was Soobin. Yeonjun was the furthest person from awkward. But Soobin didn’t mind moving to somewhere less busy. “Where did you have in mind?”
After Yeonjun bought himself an iced americano, they ended up walking to a nearby art exhibition that happened to be open to the general public. With Yeonjun’s platform boots, they stood at the same height, something Soobin was not used to except around Kai.
“Sorry, I didn’t actually ask Huening Kai to set us up,” Soobin said, paying for the admission tickets. He handed one to Yeonjun. “Not that I didn’t want him to. But he sprung it on me out of nowhere and I couldn’t say no. You don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to.”
Yeonjun paused, the straw of his drink between his glossy pink lips. Soobin tried not to stare too hard or let his mind wander to dirtier thoughts.
“Do you want to be on this date?” Yeonjun threw at him instead, quirking an eyebrow.
“Y-yeah. I—” Soobin stopped, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants as inconspicuously as he could. “Yeah.”
Very suave, Soobin. Very.
Soobin wanted to facepalm and flop down on the ground in dramatic defeat but Yeonjun was already grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. Stumbling a little before finding his footing, Soobin followed after Yeonjun into the gallery.
“Do you like art?” Yeonjun asked while Soobin was internally hyperventilating at whether he should hold Yeonjun’s pretty hand. It was right there on his forearm.
“I can paint a bit. I like anime.” Soobin covered his mouth with his hand as soon as he realised what he said. “Not that I am an otaku. I really hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me.”
“I don’t think I know you well enough to develop an opinion, but so far, I’d say you’re really cute,” Yeonjun said easily, a gentle smile on his face. “I don’t watch anime but you can still talk about it. I don’t mind.”
“Oh, okay.” Soobin almost cried for not being lambasted as he had anticipated. They were surveying an oil painting of sunflowers in a vase, but Soobin’s eyes were glued to Yeonjun. “I, uh. Do you like art?”
“I like it enough. I prefer fashion. I’ve always liked following fashion trends. I want to start my own brand, design my own clothes. Maybe do a bit of modelling too,” Yeonjun said, and Soobin understood. Yeonjun was gorgeous and looked like he belonged on a catwalk.
They ambled to stand in front of a canvas that showed a starry night. Mesmerised by the open awe on Yeonjun’s face, the bright twinkle in Yeonjun’s eyes, the ethereal delight in Yeonjun’s smile, Soobin could hear his heart thump louder in his chest, a thundering pitter-patter. Overwhelmed with his thoughts, Soobin spilled the first one that came to mind: “I think you’re more beautiful than any of the art here.”
Yeonjun laughed, throwing his head back as his smile morphed into a dazzling grin. “Wow, that was smooth. And unexpected,” he said, latching onto Soobin’s arm and pressing close.
Too close.
Soobin thought he might explode. From this proximity, Soobin could smell the light woodsy perfume lingering on Yeonjun. He met Yeonjun’s curious gaze and burned under his heated stare.
Yeonjun’s eyelashes fluttered.
Soobin glanced away. To Yeonjun’s pouty lips. Soobin wanted to be courageous and lean in, meet him halfway. He wanted to so desperately, but he didn’t move, fixed in his spot, afraid that a wrong move might have Yeonjun bolting.
Yeonjun’s voice was low and sultry as he murmured, “I might fall for you if you keep talking like that.” Then he pulled away, letting go to dispose of his drink in the rubbish bin before returning a second later, dragging Soobin by the hand to the next art piece.
Soobin’s brain shut down.
They were holding hands.
Holy shit.
This was better than scoring a pentakill on League of Legends.
He didn’t care if anyone was watching, if anyone was judging them. Being beside Yeonjun made him feel carefree in a way that nothing else had before. Yeonjun’s presence calmed his qualms, his anxieties. It was strange, an absurdity, but holding Yeonjun’s hand made sense, felt natural.
By the end of their art gallery viewing, they visited the souvenir store, buying matching sunflower keychains. Soobin insisted on paying, and Yeonjun let him.
“Is it okay if we take a photo together?” Yeonjun asked, taking out his phone. They sat on a bench at a park adjacent to the gallery. “Selca?”
Normally, Soobin would decline, but the sun was falling and the way the warm rays of light danced across Yeonjun’s skin was akin to luminous brushstrokes on an endless skyscape. Soobin stared, entranced. He wanted to capture the moment forever, too.
Nodding his head, Soobin shuffled close, wrapping an arm around Yeonjun. His hand landed at the dip of Yeonjun’s waist, a comfortable position. Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind with the way he leaned in, holding the phone in front as they faced the camera.
Their heads bumped slightly as Yeonjun tried to position himself properly, making Soobin smile, dimples on display.
“Ah, Soobin, do you want to hold the camera? I think your arms are longer,” Yeonjun said, passing his phone to Soobin.
“Oh okay.” Soobin held the phone up again, pausing as Yeonjun manoeuvred himself onto his lap. There was plenty of space on either side of him and Soobin wasn’t sure what to think. He was having another brain malfunction.
Yeonjun hugged Soobin, throwing his arms around Soobin’s neck and pressing their cheeks together. “You can take the photo now.”
Internally combusting, Soobin pressed the button on the phone, freezing when he felt soft lips against his cheek, right above his dimple. He could feel Yeonjun’s breath against his skin and if he turned his head slightly, he would—
The moment passed, Soobin too lost in thought. Yeonjun withdrew from the embrace and Soobin’s lap to grab his phone, checking out the photo. He sat beside Soobin, angling his phone’s screen towards him.
Soobin chanced a look.
It was real.
Yeonjun had kissed his cheek.
It was real.
Yeonjun’s mouth had touched Soobin’s skin, leaving behind the sticky sheen of lip gloss.
It was real.
Touching his cheek where he had been kissed, Soobin rubbed at the spot absent-mindedly, gazing at Yeonjun’s lips. What would it take to close the distance and press his lips against Yeonjun’s own?
Soobin wished he was stronger, braver, bolder. He sat still, swallowing his yearning, his heart racing at the mere thought.
“I had a good time today,” Yeonjun said, interrupting Soobin’s mental meltdown. Yeonjun rested his hand on Soobin’s knee, enticing Soobin to look Yeonjun’s way. “I’ll see you at school on Monday?”
“We go to the same school?" Soobin's confusion showed in his wide eyes and when he realised what he had said, it was too late to play it off as a joke.
“You didn’t know?” Yeonjun frowned, pouting. “You haven’t noticed me before?”
“I, uh, don’t—” Soobin flushed under the attention, mortified. “I don’t really look at other people. I just keep my head down. I don’t have a lot of friends, to be honest. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t offend me,” Yeonjun reassured, patting Soobin’s thigh. He was so genuinely friendly and good-natured that Soobin found it astounding someone so pure existed. “Maybe you’ll look out for me then? Pay me a visit if you don’t mind. My homeroom is 3-B.”
There was a pause. Soobin regarded Yeonjun’s hand on his thigh, wondering if he should make a move now. It would be easy enough to pull Yeonjun into his orbit and kiss him, right?
Soobin hadn’t kissed anyone before but he hoped Yeonjun could be his first. He had been thinking about it the whole of today, wanting to surrender his worries to the maelstrom of affection he had developed for Yeonjun.
But the moment passed. Yeonjun was standing up, stretching his long limbs, and Soobin had spent too long thinking.
“I guess I’ll get going then,” Yeonjun said, giving Soobin a brief hug goodbye before bouncing back and clasping his hands together, energy brimming through him. He seemed nervous but Soobin couldn’t imagine what he had to be nervous about. “Keep in touch, okay?”
Nodding, Soobin was about to ask if Yeonjun wanted a lift home from his chauffeur but the words caught in his throat, stuck. “I’ll see you later, Yeonjun hyung. Please send me the selca when you can.”
When Yeonjun smiled at him one last time, Soobin memorised the way wisps of his blond hair danced in the gentle breeze, the way his warm eyes lit up in happiness, the way the setting sun kissed his skin the way Soobin wanted to.
//
By the time Monday rolled around, Soobin was giddy with excitement, looking forward to seeing Yeonjun. Earlier in the morning when they had passed through the school gates, he had thanked Kai for setting up the date, to which Kai responded with a smug, pleased grin.
At lunch time, Soobin abandoned his regular daily routine of secluding himself in his classroom and walked up the stairs to 3-B. Teachers and students he didn’t even know greeted him in a way that made him uncomfortable, reminding him why he preferred the loneliness of being isolated.
In front of classroom 3-B, Soobin stopped in his tracks upon hearing Yeonjun’s melodic voice. His heart racing, Soobin wondered if it was appropriate for him to approach Yeonjun. They had never been seen together at school. Soobin had never interacted with other students apart from Kai, so if he was seen talking to Yeonjun, would that start any vicious rumours?
He wanted to talk to Yeonjun, and wasn’t that enough?
Soobin tried to push away the disquiet. Anyone would be able to recognise his attraction to Yeonjun. It would make it awkward, not just for Yeonjun, but for Soobin, because word of their relationship, whatever the nature might be, would inevitably reach his parents.
Before he could decide what to do — to stay or to leave — hidden behind a wall, he heard Yeonjun’s friend speak. Yeonjun and his friend were leaning against the windowsill, looking out at the sunny horizon, back towards Soobin’s curious gaze.
“Are you going to ask him out again?”
Unintentionally eavesdropping, Soobin realised they were talking about him.
“Do you like him?” Yeonjun’s friend continued badgering him.
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can you keep it down, Wooyoung? I don’t think he’d want people to know about us anyway.”
Soobin couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep listening. What Yeonjun said was true. He wondered how Yeonjun had managed to pick up on that.
“You have your couple selca as your home screen photo,” Wooyoung said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “A bit sus, don’t you think? If someone sees, they’d know.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean anything.” Yeonjun clarified, “It doesn’t mean anything. I’d delete it if he asked me to. His family is so powerful and rich that I’d hate to step on their toes.”
Soobin turned away before he could hear more, upset. This wasn’t a conversation he was meant to hear anyway. He didn’t want anyone to see his turmoil, the discomfort clenching at his chest, so he made his way to the rooftop, taking in several deep breaths.
Opening his phone, he texted Yeonjun to meet him there. He received an okay a few seconds later. In his mind, he rehearsed what he wanted to say, organising his thoughts.
Yeonjun arrived a few minutes later. He looked cute in his uniform, white shirt and blue vest, seeming like a hard-working student. It was an image that clashed with his bleached hair. He must have had an agreement with the school if they had allowed him to break the strict rules. It was a high school for the elite, but different tiers of powerful and rich meant that some students got away with more than others.
Soobin knew the principal would turn an eye if he was the one to commit a wrongdoing but his parents would not. Because of that, Soobin kept strict control of all the matters in his life — Yeonjun being the only exception thus far.
“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun called, jogging over to where Soobin was on the rooftop that overlooked the courtyard. “What’s up?”
Soobin didn’t turn to look at him, instead choosing to focus on a tree in the distance.
Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind by the way he carried the conversation forward in the midst of Soobin’s contemplative silence. “Well, I’ve been thinking… I need to confess something. I really enjoyed our date on the weekend and I—”
“No,” Soobin said, stopping Yeonjun. Itching to glance at Yeonjun, he reasoned it would be easier if he wasn’t watching his expressive face. It was already hard enough to say what he needed to say. “I’d like to speak first.”
“Okay…” Yeonjun waited, patient.
There was a part of Soobin that wanted to keep the words to himself but keeping quiet had only served him so much.
He had been a delusional fool to think that Yeonjun liked him. If not for his family’s power or money, Yeonjun would not have displayed any interest. He didn’t resent Yeonjun for that, because he was so used to it. Here he was, a loner and a loser, and someone as beautiful and popular as Yeonjun wanted to go on a date with him? It hadn’t made sense then but now Soobin understood. If only he had known earlier that Yeonjun already knew who he—his family—was.
It always played out the same: people tried to worm their way into Soobin’s good graces and no matter how genuine they seemed to be, they would, a few weeks or months later, ask for a favour, a gift. They would take and take, and Soobin would give and give, thinking that it was normal. The amount of money, the number of gifts didn’t matter, not to Soobin anyway. But when the requests became exponentially impossibly difficult to answer, when the handlers his parents employed for him eventually stepped in to clean up the mess, his so-called friends would curse him, vitriolic and bitter, and desert him when they realised there was nothing left for him to give.
It didn’t matter if they were from already well-off families. Greed knew no bounds; power was made to be abused.
It didn’t matter how well-intentioned Soobin had meant to be. They never stayed, and Soobin would always wonder why.
It didn’t matter if Soobin wanted Yeonjun, because he would inevitably drive him away, the same way he always did.
Yeonjun didn't like him the same way he liked Yeonjun. And that was fine. He could live with that but it still hurt the same.
“I don’t think we should see each other. I don’t want you to contact me again,” Soobin said. Careful. Well-intentioned. It was better to end this sooner than later, Soobin convinced himself. “That’s all.”
Yeonjun took a moment to collect himself. “Can you look at me?”
Soobin risked a glance at Yeonjun and his heart ached at the sight, knowing he was the reason for his forlorn expression. Yeonjun’s jaw was clenched. His eyes—
Soobin looked away.
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Yeonjun said, his voice soft, “that you can’t even look at me. But I get it. I understand.”
“You do?”
Yeonjun let out a short bark of humourless laughter. “Yeah. I go on a date with a guy I think is cute, and then later, he tells me he’s not interested? It happens more than you think. Sometimes they’re just curious about what it’s like dating a guy. They just wanted to experiment. Whatever. Or they realise they’re straight. Or they’d rather be closeted than deal with the scrutiny. I’ve heard it all before. I get it. It’s not easy. Thanks for telling me, I guess. I really liked you but it is what it is.”
“That’s not what I…” Soobin wasn’t sure how to explain to Yeonjun what he meant, not wanting to sound arrogant and demeaning. He didn’t want Yeonjun to misunderstand. “I think you’re beautiful but I—”
“Don’t. You’ve said enough. Don’t make it worse.” Yeonjun turned and walked away, the glare of the sun on his retreating back.
And that was how Soobin’s first love ended, with his fears and anxieties so deeply etched in his heart that he remained motionless, swept up in the storm of daunting emotions and missed moments.
\\
Five Years Later
“Can you shut the fuck up? If I have to hear you talk about your fuckbuddy’s cock one more time, I am going to scream,” Yeonjun said, changing out of the designer clothes he had to wear for the magazine shoot. As much as he appreciated the flashy and luxurious outfits that only someone like him could pull off, at the end of a long work day, he couldn’t wait to switch to a hoodie and sweatpants. The freebies that the brands advertising on the shoot gifted him went straight into his backpack.
“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own fuckbuddy,” Beomgyu replied, miming a broken heart and a tear escaping his eye. He had unfortunately been one of the models assigned to work alongside Yeonjun. Beomgyu was simultaneously one of the sweetest guys he knew and the most irritating, talkative bastard he had the displeasure of being friends with. “Or fuckbuddies, plural! Let me tell you about that time both their dicks were in my—”
“No, please. Don’t.” Yeonjun groaned, shoving on his black bucket hat, flattening his ash grey hair. “I will scream for real. This is a threat!”
Beomgyu laughed, having now also changed out of his outfit.
They bid goodbye to the other staff and headed out onto the streets of Hongdae together, walking towards the subway station.
“Okay, fine, fine. If you want to scream that badly, I can hook you up with a friend of a friend. I heard he’s hot, rich, not an old man, and has a huge dick. He likes pretty boys.”
“So he fucked you too?” Yeonjun asked, chewing at his lower lip. Bad habit. The make-up artists always criticised his chapped lips.
“Nope, I already have my hands full—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—Of cock.”
“Shut the fuck up, oh my God.” Yeonjun slapped Beomgyu’s bony shoulder. The ticket machines beeped as they swiped their transportation cards. “You’re so annoying. Go choke on their dicks if you like it that much.”
“I will. But first,” Beomgyu said, chipper as ever, “you need to nut. You need to fuck. I can tell you’re sexually frustrated, and no offence, but I don’t need that negative energy in my life. Next thing I know I’ll find out you want to bang me or something.”
Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “In your dreams.”
“So, that’s a yes, then?”
Their destinations were on the same subway line so they waited together. It was late, nearing midnight.
“A yes to what?”
“To being set up with a potential fuckbuddy,” Beomgyu clarified, resting his head against Yeonjun’s shoulder. He looked up at Yeonjun, batting his long eyelashes.
“Ugh, okay, fine. What’s his name? Do I add his KakaoTalk now and he sends me dick pics? How do I do this?” Yeonjun’s most recent relationship had lasted two consecutive years and ended amicably months ago. He hadn’t had the time or energy to find friends with benefits like Beomgyu always did. He hated using dating apps too. No strings attached sounded great until someone developed feelings, and Yeonjun dreaded the complications that would arise in such circumstances. He didn’t know how Beomgyu managed it.
Or maybe the dicking was so good that it didn’t matter.
“Uh… I have to ask my fuckbuddy… but I will let you know in three business days. Hopefully.” Beomgyu waved his hands about as he spoke. “And when you get his number, just arrange a time and place to meet up. That’s it. Oh, and bring lube and condoms, I guess. Don’t do it raw the first time even if he insists. Safe sex comes first.”
They boarded the train once it arrived, sitting down on the empty seats.
Yeonjun closed his eyes, exhausted. He didn’t regret the choices in his life — he was modelling; he had a foot in the high-end fashion industry he had always wanted to be a part of — but he wondered if this was the status quo he was meant to be satisfied with.
Maybe Beomgyu was right.
Yeonjun needed to fuck.
\\
Yeonjun acquired the contact details from Beomgyu within three business days as promised. There was no photo and no information to be garnered from the profile. Mulling over whether he should take the plunge or not, Yeonjun didn’t send a message until the week after, tired and sitting in the styling chair. If he received no response, then so be it. He wasn’t bothered chasing after someone faceless and nameless just because he was horny.
He texted a greeting and a reply arrived almost immediately.
Unknown Number
hi, i got this number from choi beomgyu
Hello, you may call me 'Arin'. I am the personal assistant of the man you are arranging a meeting with. May I know your A/S/L?
23/m/seoul
The Signiel Seoul Hotel. Presidential Suite. This Friday. 11pm. Ask for Arin at the check-in counter. Is the time and place suitable to your liking?
can i ask how old he is? name? photo?
22. We are unable to provide a name or photo at this time due to privacy reasons.
ok i’ll be there
The meeting has been arranged successfully. If there are any concerns or you wish to cancel, please feel free to message me.
Yeonjun sighed. He had plenty of concerns but he doubted they would be answered sufficiently. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the mystery man wasn’t an old geezer, but in fact, someone a year younger than him. And he could afford to book the Presidential Suite at a five-star hotel with such minimal notice? Colour Yeonjun impressed.
If worse came to worst, Yeonjun could just leave if he didn’t feel like sleeping with him.
Two notifications popped up on his phone. When he opened the KakaoTalk app, there was a document uploaded in the chat he had with Arin. The message attached was: Please sign the non-disclosure agreement (NDA) before your meeting or the meeting will be cancelled.
Yeonjun frowned, wondering if this was normal for fuckbuddy shenanigans. Probably not. But this meant the man he was meeting was someone important. Oh, Yeonjun hoped he was an actor or an idol… Those options wouldn’t be too bad. At least then he would be attractive.
He flipped through the pages of the NDA on his phone, not finding anything out of the ordinary. Having signed NDAs before while working in the modelling industry, Yeonjun was familiar with the legal jargon, but those NDAs had been for minor affairs like a luxury brand releasing a new product or so on. There was no contract for the meeting itself, which meant he wasn’t obligated to see this through — he just had to keep his mouth shut.
And that was something he was well-versed in.
He signed the confidentiality agreement and sent it back, no longer wanting to dwell on the matter.
\\
When Friday evening rolled around, Yeonjun dolled up the way he did back when he used to go clubbing with the intention of getting railed. After completing his seductive make-up, slightly smudging his red lipstick with the intent of having others stare at his pouty lips, he remembered he was going to a grandiose hotel and wanted to try and look the part while still revealing his charms. In selecting his outfit, he wore a white button-down shirt that showed off his collarbones, light blue denim jeans, and black boots. He completed the look with a cream-coloured fur jacket and dangly silver earrings. No bag, just his phone and trusty pockets.
Posing and taking a mirror selca, he sent it to Beomgyu.
beomgyu
if the guy is a serial killer imma haunt u for the rest of ur life 👻🔪
just say u wanna be a voyeur to my 3somes and go
suddenly im homophobic🤮🤮🤮
shut up hoe
u look good. hope u get a monster cock 💛
Chuckling, Yeonjun hoped the same.
To reach the hotel, he used a ride-share service, not wanting to be ogled at on public transport. Before heading in, he stopped by the nearby convenience store and bought a packet of condoms and a small tube of lube. The store worker, a balding ahjussi, made derisive comments, to which Yeonjun threw his middle finger up on his way out after paying.
He was used to it.
At least at the gay bars in Itaewon, the way he dressed and acted, his choice in who he wanted to spend the night with was a non-issue. In other parts of Seoul, not so much. His appearance was too striking, exuding intrigue and confidence, that he would often have people walking up to him asking if he was someone famous, attention following him regardless of where he went. He had an Instagram page for his modelling work that he plugged in those instances. Every now and then, he would receive disparaging, unnecessary comments but he figured that was just an unavoidable part of his line of work and being who he was.
Being on display was inevitable. His body was a blank canvas for fashion labels. He thrived under the attention, the compliments, and yet withered under the scrutiny, the criticism. One day, he would be considered too old for this industry, and then what would he have then? A plethora of dashed dreams and wasted opportunities?
Shaking away those thoughts, Yeonjun approached the reception desk at the hotel five minutes before the meeting time. Directed at the concierge, he said, “I was told to ask for Arin.”
“I.D. please.”
After completing the identity check, Yeonjun waited a minute before he was greeted by an elegantly dressed secretary.
“Hello, I am Choi Yewon, also known as Arin. I will show you the way up and also reinforce some information about today’s meeting.” Yewon spoke swiftly and professionally, similar to her text messages. “No photos, no videos, and no recordings of any kind are permitted. He only has an hour before he will need to leave for his flight. However, you are free to continue using the room and the hotel amenities until the check-out time tomorrow morning. All room service is paid for. Did you have any questions?”
They stepped into a special lift, with Yewon scanning the pass and pressing the ninety-ninth floor.
“Is he already there?” Yeonjun asked, leaning against the elevator wall and checking out his own appearance in the mirror. He wasn’t nervous. He had slept with strangers plenty of times before — some had been decent, others disappointing. He had thought he had outgrown one night stands but it seemed the more things changed, the more things stayed the same.
“No. He will join you shortly. You are free to leave whenever. Don’t feel pressured to stay.” Yewon smiled, a pretty, reassuring gesture. She handed him the key pass. With a conspiratorial wink, she added, “In fact, because you are exactly his type, I will mention this but don’t tell him I told you. He will be more annoyed if he discovers you are not interested but stayed because of his status.”
“As long as his status is huge fucking dick, I don’t care who he is.”
Instead of looking scandalised, Yewon laughed, covering her mouth with her manicured hand. The doors pinged open and Yewon motioned for him to exit. “Ah, looks like we are here. Presidential Suite 1 is where you want to go. I’ll be leaving now but feel free to contact me via KakaoTalk any time. It was lovely meeting you. Have fun.”
Yeonjun bid his goodbye, stepping onto the carpeted floor and finding the door to the suite easily.
Unlocking the suite, Yeonjun turned the lights on, removed his shoes, and examined his lavish surroundings. The gaudy opulence reminded him of his younger years, back when he revelled in the splendour that only money and affluence could buy, back when he hadn’t needed to worry about paying bills. Back when his family hadn’t disowned him for being who he was.
Inspecting all the rooms and humming to himself, Yeonjun hoped it would be acceptable to invite Wooyoung or Beomgyu here later. There would be plenty of space. The bedroom had a king-size double bed with soft goose down pillows and bedding, the kind that would guarantee him a peaceful night’s sleep if only he hadn't come here to nut.
When he approached the windows and opened the blinds, the illuminated cityscape of Seoul painted a vibrant glow over his own dismal reflection from the glass.
He hadn’t heard the door open but the sound of footsteps piqued his interest. Turning his head, he saw a tall young man, who looked as equally shocked as him.
“Choi Soobin?!” Yeonjun asked, wanting to confirm that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. He staggered forward until he was an arm’s length away, taking in Soobin’s appearance.
Soobin was dressed in a black suit and tie, dark hair neatly combed, demeanour professional and serious. The surprise on his face promptly disappeared, morphing into a flat and difficult-to-read expression. “What are you doing here, Choi Yeonjun?”
Yeonjun wasn’t sure how to react either. His high school crush, the one he had pined over for almost two years, the one who had never noticed him and hadn’t even realised they went to the same school prior to their fateful date, the one who had harshly rejected him was going to be his fuckbuddy?
It seemed life was playing a cruel joke on him. Back then, he hadn’t been good enough for Soobin, and now, he doubted he was any better. If anything, he was worse off.
“What happened to your cute round cheeks?” Yeonjun said, taking the initiative to start the conversation. Pinching Soobin’s cheek out of reflex, he let go immediately when he realised.
Before, Soobin had the cutest cheeks. Sometimes it looked like he was storing food for the winter when he chewed and Yeonjun had always wanted to squeeze his cheeks. And, Soobin’s dimples were even cuter, if that was even possible — Yeonjun would often find himself lost in the brightness of his smile. Now, Soobin’s face had slimmed, the angle of his sharp jaw more prominent.
“You lost your baby fat too,” Soobin replied evenly, glancing at Yeonjun and then away, looking off to the side. If he minded Yeonjun pinching his cheek, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he ran a hand through his own hair, probably stressed, making his appearance no longer appear so put-together and pristine.
Yeonjun watched as Soobin started undoing his tie, deft fingers working around the silk fabric, and then his suit jacket was stripped off next. Yeonjun’s heart leapt to his throat. Mouth dry, he whispered out a reply, “I had to. I’m a model now.”
Soobin peered at Yeonjun again, an inquisitive look in his eyes. The distance between them used to seem so unfathomably immense that Yeonjun had always wondered how he managed to secure a date with Soobin. With Soobin standing before him, the distance that loomed grew smaller with every step Soobin took to stand in front of him, his tie and jacket thrown to the floor.
“Congratulations. Isn’t that what you always wanted?” Soobin said, blinking slowly. From this proximity, Yeonjun could see all the ways Soobin had matured. Yeonjun hadn’t been this close to him since the incident five years ago. Soobin was even taller now, his fit showing off his toned long limbs. He was more handsome now, someone Yeonjun would sleep with without a moment’s hesitation if not for their shared history.
“Oh, you remember?” Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, daring Soobin to say otherwise.
Realising the implication, Soobin looked away, blushing at his ears.
A flicker of hope was an absurd reaction, but Yeonjun harboured it anyway.
“Yes, I remember,” Soobin said, now staring at Yeonjun’s lips, eyes hardening the way a predator’s focused before stalking its prey. His large hand came forward to cup Yeonjun’s face, and the warm touch of his skin both electrified and terrified him. “Anything else you wanted to say before we do this? Any ground rules?”
Yeonjun was caught off guard, eyes wide. The charged atmosphere had him on edge, wanting Soobin to kiss him and also not. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me?”
Soobin evaluated Yeonjun. His gaze moved from Yeonjun’s lips to his eyes, and then he stepped away towards the mini bar, sighing. He grabbed a bottle of whisky from the cabinet, opening the drink. With two lowball glasses, he poured a small amount into each.
Soobin didn’t deny the accusation.
“Do you drink?” Soobin asked, downing one glass of whisky like it was a shot of soju. Yeonjun watched in perplexed horror at the sight of something so un-Soobin-like; whisky was not easy to drink except in sips with the way it burned down the throat. Was he drinking simply to get drunk and not for the enjoyment?
“I can,” Yeonjun replied, making his way over and leaning against the marble counter. “But I’d rather not.”
“Okay.” Soobin then downed the other glass, much to Yeonjun’s aghast concern. Now Yeonjun wished he had accepted the drink.
Realising he didn’t know Soobin anymore, not the way he thought he had, Yeonjun twiddled his thumbs and asked, “What are you doing these days?”
“Working.” Soobin looked unimpressed, index finger absent-mindedly tracing the rim of the empty whisky glass. “Please tell me you didn’t organise this with the intention of having a high school reunion.”
“I didn’t organise this. I hadn’t been informed it would be you,” Yeonjun retorted, a flashing bout of anger subsiding as rapidly as it arrived. It was not Soobin he was upset at. “If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have come.”
“Oh, really?” Soobin was on the offensive now, stepping forward and encroaching Yeonjun’s personal space again. “You sure it’s not because you’re scared of how rich and powerful my family is? Or maybe you came here for that exact reason.”
The words sounded familiar but Yeonjun couldn’t recall from where. Smacking his hand against Soobin’s hard chest and leaning towards him, Yeonjun replied, “I might’ve been born with a silver spoon but at least I don’t have one up my ass.”
Soobin really had grown up, his body sturdy and unyielding, his voice unwavering and strong. Yeonjun could feel Soobin’s ice-cold glare on him, the fervid hands at his waist pulling him in. They were so close that Yeonjun felt like he was trapped in a vortex, dizzy with the thought of kissing Soobin.
After all these years, they had changed and yet they had stayed the same.
Soobin didn’t move. He stared at Yeonjun, drinking him in.
Then in a low voice, Soobin said, “Shut the fuck up,” and leaned in, pressing his mouth against Yeonjun’s, their lips brushing.
Yeonjun moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth and tasting the heat of Soobin’s mouth, the softness of his plush lips, the sweetness from the whisky. Clutching at Soobin’s broad shoulders, Yeonjun dived in, swirling his tongue against Soobin’s, licking into him. He pressed their bodies together, heat pooling at his groin. Sucked on Soobin’s tongue. Shivered as Soobin’s hands tightened around his waist.
Sliding his hands into Soobin’s silky hair, Yeonjun grew drunk on the the intensity, the fervour to which Soobin devoured him.
Soobin moved from Yeonjun’s lips to his jaw, to the vulnerable line of his neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses, an unexpected wanton desperation to his actions.
“W-wait, no hickeys.” Yeonjun broke away from the kiss, lips slick with saliva. “I’ll get in trouble at work if you do.”
“Can’t they just use concealer,” Soobin grumbled, nosing at the junction of Yeonjun’s neck and shoulder and licking a patch of skin, light indents of teeth exciting Yeonjun in a way that made no sense. “Tell me the name of your agency. I’ll buy them out.”
Soobin’s hands groped Yeonjun’s ass, squeezing. Yeonjun sighed in pleasure. “You can’t just solve everything with money. It doesn’t work like that.”
“No?” Soobin asked, eyes dark as he pressed his forehead against Yeonjun’s, breathing heavily. His lips were stained red, smeared with the lipstick Yeonjun had been wearing. Soobin leaned in again to pull on Yeonjun’s bottom lip with his mouth, sucking and licking into Yeonjun’s heat, and Yeonjun was struck with the acute awareness that Soobin had changed significantly.
Yeonjun couldn’t imagine the Soobin from high school doing any of this. Of even considering a fuckbuddy. Or even having had any fuckbuddies. The innocent image he had of Soobin from the past clashed with the alluring reality in front of him.
He wondered what had happened to Soobin for such a dramatic transformation.
Or maybe he hadn’t really known Soobin at all. Longing glances didn’t matter if Soobin never acknowledged them. A confession unsaid was unperturbed silence.
Yeonjun tugged at Soobin’s shirt, undoing the top few buttons. He pulled away to say, “No, money can’t buy everything. Not that someone like you would know.”
If Soobin was bothered by the comment, he didn’t say anything in that moment, instead choosing to press up against him, his crotch against Yeonjun’s. They were both hard, and Yeonjun could feel how hung Soobin was even packed away in his slacks. Yeonjun’s mouth watered at the thought of wrapping his lips around it.
“I would say you need a mouthful of cock to actually shut up,” Soobin said, checking his wristwatch, “but it seems like I don’t have a lot of time before I have to go. How about I jerk the both of us off?”
Fingers already unzipping Soobin’s pants, Yeonjun replied blithely, “You know I’m only here for dick. It didn’t have to be you.”
Yeonjun noticed Soobin swallow, staying quiet, and perhaps he had been too mean but the words had already been voiced and he couldn’t take them back. Stripping off his own jeans and underwear, Yeonjun was unabashed at the state of his nudity as he let Soobin crowd him against the wall.
Soobin pulled his erection out of his pants. It made sense that Soobin with his large veiny hands would also have a huge veiny dick but Yeonjun had been unprepared nevertheless. The sight of Soobin’s colossal erection, curved and straining, had Yeonjun weak at the knees, wanting to get down and suck him off.
But Soobin was already grabbing both their cocks, aligning them together with one hand. Pre-come dribbled out of Soobin’s length, Yeonjun’s too, easing the slide. The simultaneous sensation of Soobin’s warm hand, his thick fingers wrapped around him, and the heavy pressure of Soobin’s cock against Yeonjun’s had Yeonjun moaning loudly as he rutted into Soobin’s tight fist.
Yeonjun reached down to assist, regretting it almost immediately when he saw he couldn’t actually wrap his hand around the same way Soobin could. It didn’t help that his dick was also smaller than Soobin’s, but only a tad!
He heard Soobin let out a short laugh.
“Don’t comment on it,” Yeonjun said straight away, moving his hand to clutch at Soobin’s shirt, while Soobin continued.
“But it’s cute,” Soobin said, mirth in his voice. His dimpled smile appeared on his face and he had no right to be so adorable at this point in time. “The size difference is cute, right?”
“Shut the fuck up and make me come already,” Yeonjun replied, not wanting to admit that he found it hot. He surged forward and kissed Soobin’s neck, laving at the sweat with his tongue and biting an ardent bruise. Soobin hadn’t told him he couldn’t leave a hickey after all.
They lapsed into a heated silence marked only by the sound of Soobin’s measured strokes and their laboured breathing.
Soon after, Yeonjun came with a cry, hiding his face in Soobin’s shoulder, his body racked with his orgasm. Soobin held Yeonjun steady with an arm around him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his bowed head.
Moments later, Soobin brought himself to his climax, a muffled groan the only warning as large amounts of come spurted out and out, a stream of white making a sticky mess on the both of them.
Soobin withdrew from the embrace first, shoving his dick unceremoniously back in his pants. He headed to the bathroom to grab a towel, wiping away any come on his clothes, and he returned to Yeonjun with a fresh towel.
“You ruined my shirt,” Yeonjun said, knowing it was futile to clean his shirt but still pawed at his clothes with the towel. He was planning to take a shower after, but he had no clothes to change into.
“Well, you should’ve taken it off then,” Soobin retorted, ruffling and stroking Yeonjun’s hair as some strange form of apology. His phone alarm blared an obnoxious pop tune, reminding them of his limited time. He fixed up his appearance, fastening the top few buttons of his shirt, while he said, “I’ll get Yewon to bring you some of my clothes if you stick around for a bit. I have to leave now though.”
“Okay.” Yeonjun looked at Soobin, wondering if he should hug him goodbye. Was that too affectionate? They weren’t lovers. They might have known each other from the past, but they were strangers now, trying to make something work.
Soobin didn’t even look worse for wear despite the collar of his shirt being askew, his missing tie, and the hickey on his neck.
“Okay,” Soobin parrotted back. Hesitation was clear in his mannerisms, in the way he didn’t leave straight away, and for once, Yeonjun found him easy to read, just like when they had been teenagers. Soobin stepped forward, pressed a gentle kiss to Yeonjun’s cheek.
Yeonjun refused to blush or smile, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. He was afraid to say anything, lest his hopeful optimism betray him the way it had five years ago.
“I’ll contact you later,” Soobin said, pausing, biting his lip. He waited, but when Yeonjun didn’t say or do anything, he turned around and walked away without another word spoken.
When the door closed, Yeonjun was struck with a sense of abject confusion and disorientation. The heat where Soobin’s hands had touched him, the warmth where Soobin’s lips had kissed him still lingered like a flame refusing to be extinguished.
And the void in Yeonjun’s heart still hurt all the same. It didn’t matter if five years had passed or if Soobin wanted him now — some things never changed.
//