#hyunhd

sena  was  the  worst  combination  of  man  possible;  the  type  who  discarded  shame  like  it  was  an  insult  to  his  dignity,  and  was  also  given  full  reign  to  do  as  he  selfishly  pleased.  there  were  thus  no  complaints  voiced  when  sena  collected  minhyun  promptly  at  5  in  the  evening,  whisking  him  away  from  his  duties  and  down  to  the  parking  lot  in  the  basement  where  sena's  chauffeur  readily  drove  them  to  the  hyundai  department  store  in  the  opulence  and  comfort  of  plush,  custom  silk  upholstered  seats.

sena  was  deliberate  with  his  choice;  the  dior  and  saint  laurent  stores  at  this  particular  location  showcased  both  the  men's  and  women's  collections,  and  sena  detested  being  constrained  to  only  homme  apparel.  he  needed  the  full  spectrum  to  truly  enshrine  his  beauty  and  allure,  so  he  had  the  foresight—and  the  audacity—to  reserve  both  establishments,  in  case  dior  was  lacklustre  in  its  selection  and  they  had  need  of  venturing  on  to  the  next.

as  they  crossed  the  threshold,  the  atmosphere  shifted.  a  phalanx  of  staff  stood  at  attention  in  a  greeting  line  fit  for  royalty,  with  the  store  manager  stepping  forward  to  bow  deeply.  "sena-nim,  thank  you  for  paying  us  another  visit  so  soon."

"oh,  please.  i  should  be  thanking  you  for  indulging  my  last-minute  whim,"  sena  replied  with  a  gracious  smile,  practiced  and  entirely  disarming.  he  moved  through  the  space  with  the  ease  of  a  man  walking  into  his  own  living  room.  "i  hope  it  wasn't  too  much  trouble."

"not  at  all,  and  especially  never  for  you,  sena-nim.  you  are  always  welcome  here,"  the  manager  beamed  as  he  guided  them  deeper  into  the  sanctum  of  high-end  designer  wear.  he  gestured  to  a  rack  of  new  arrivals  with  the  eagerness  to  please  their  highly  esteemed  master  patron.  "these  are  some  of  the  new  arrivals  i  thought  you  may  be  interested  in,  though  i  think  you've  rejected  similar  pieces  in  the  past."

sena  hummed  while  his  gaze  swept  over  the  garments  with  the  lethargy  of  a  bored  predator,  flicking  a  finger  at  a  jacket  and  dismissing  it  without  a  second  thought.  "you're  right.  i'm  honoured  you  remember  my  preferences  so  well."

to  turn  a  rejection  into  praise  took  the  skilled  expertise  of  a  seasoned  siren;  sena  laced  his  venomous  words  with  honey  to  sweeten  the  sting,  and  the  manager  seemed  thrilled  by  the  scraps  of  acknowledgement.

ignoring  the  flustered  whispers  of  the  other  staff,  sena  pivoted  on  his  heels  and  turned  his  attention  to  his  true  entertainment  for  the  evening.  he  stepped  into  minhyun's  space,  the  scent  of  expensive  perfume  and  mischief  clinging  to  him.  feather-light  and  almost  dainty,  he  placed  a  hand  on  minhyun's  arm,  slender  fingers  lingering  against  the  fabric  of  the  stylist's  sleeve.

YEONSEOK’S BEDROOM IS SATURATED WITH BEAMS OF RUST-RED SUN— LONG SHADOWS, SUNSET HUES. he squints against it all to consider the piece of sky stretching just outside his window. and it’s copper and radiant, still, despite the melancholy of winter. it must be early evening now; a chill is beginning to settle in.

“… should probably grab dinner soon.”

he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing minhyun, with the entirety of his closet emptied and strewn about the room. yeonseok had spent sunday browsing the dongmyo flea market and had come back to hydra inspired, wired and thrumming with excitement. it’s a consequence of being as capricious as he is. sometimes, he’s able to tame an errant impulse just by draping himself over one of his friends. other times, he has to rip something apart. today, he’s doing both.

written for han minhyun (@hyunhd) ♡

hanbin likes the gym because it doesn't ask questions. here, progress is measurable. weight plates don't lie. muscles either hold or they don't. effort is totally honest. you lift, you fail, you try again.

he's halfway through a set when the space behind him changes. someone steps close enough to matter, but hanbin doesn't turn. he adjusts his grip, breathes in, accepts the arrangement without distraction. the bar lowers and he feels his shoulders engage, a familiar strain blooming through his arms. normally, this is the part where his thoughts narrow to numbers and form. he tightens his jaw, eyes locking onto his own reflection as if focus might be contagious, and that's where the composure breaks seeing minhyun's reflection.

more than anything, bohyun was probably excited about getting to dress up and parade around looking cute once she made her debut. the looks that some of these stars got to sport always had her feeling jealous, but now she would get to experience the same thing. how exciting!

and while she wasn't sure if any of her thoughts would actually be listened to, that never stopped bohyun from bothering minhyun from the second she learned she'd be joining girl next door. "okay, but you have to admit, this would make us all look super adorable, right?" with a squeal, she showed off a few design collages she had made.