#xejoon

--

hojoon is more than used to not having anything to eat at lunch. it’s usually because they ran out of bread or, conversely, had nothing to put on the bread. all they ate anymore was sandwiches at his house, but after a year of government checks and not more than bread and lunchmeat, he was used to it.

he didn’t like it, but he was used to it.

usually, he could ignore the hunger sitting in the pit of his stomach, chewing on his pencils anxiously until lunch was over and he could go to his next class and the next and get the day over with. but, today, there’s pizza sitting out on the counter, waiting to be claimed by kids who actually have money. 1.50 a slice. hojoon has a few cents in his pocket.

“hey.”

hojoon looks up from the fresh pizza that’s been set out for the taking and to this dude that’s trying to get his attention. hojoon decides to give him the time of day, because why not. maybe he’ll be a good distraction. “hey. what’s up?” hojoon says casually, and the dude looks over his shoulder at the pizza.

“you’re eyeing that pizza pretty damn hard. do you not have enough money for any?”

hojoon sighs. he hates people who come at him with this shit. they always do it to make themselves feel better, like oh hey, i’ve done my one good deed for the day. cool. “i don’t care, it’s fine.” hojoon replies, rubbing his eyes.

“are you sure? it’s not a problem, i can get you some-”

“look, stretch.” hojoon says, eyebrows furrowing. “i don’t need your damn handouts. i’ll be fine.”

aforementioned stretch looks almost offended, something dark coming over his face. it’s kinda hot. “it’s not a handout, it’s me trying to be nice.”

“yeah, well. you can go be nice somewhere else.”

there’s a moment where hojoon thinks stretch is going to argue with him more, but then he fucks off and hojoon exhales. he’s sorting through math notes when a plate gets slapped down overtop of his notebook and the chair opposite him is dragged out with a muted squeal.

“eat your damn pizza.”

hojoon makes a face, pushing the plate away. “why are you so insistent on this, are you that determined to get your brownie points for the day?”

stretch grabs his wrist, and his hold is too tight for hojoon to pull away from. “you’re skinny. if you can’t afford lunch and you don’t have a lunch packed, something’s gotta be up, right?”

hojoon reaches across the table and grabs stretch’s other hand, holding his hand up to his face. “you’re skinny too, and if you had the money to buy your own lunch and then this, you’ve got to be pretty well off, huh? so leave me alone.”

stretch is silent for a moment before he drops hojoon’s hand, staring at him seriously. “eat. your damn. pizza.”

hojoon shakes his head, going back to ordering formulas before stretch grabs his chin roughly, tilting his head up and trying to shove the pizza into his mouth. hojoon’s seriously about to beat his ass, but the first taste of pepperoni is too much. too much. “you bastard,” hojoon says through a bite of pizza. stretch looks rather pleased. “the fuck’s your name?”

“jiho. the fuck is yours?”

“hojoon. fuck off, now.”

jiho grins. “nah.”

hojoon is forced to spend lunch with this ass who talks too much for his own good and tries to prompt hojoon into sharing about himself. hojoon isn’t into this whole friend making business, hasn’t been since his life went to the shitter in fifth grade, so he mostly stays silent and copies down notes that he gathered from acquaintances that were willing to give them to him. jiho doesn’t seem to mind, just fills the silence with more things that hojoon didn’t want to know about him.

jiho calls a bright, “goodbye hojoon!”, to him as he’s leaving school, and hojoon bothers to wave over his shoulder at him. he’s sure that’s more than enough.

--

hojoon has detention today. his nose is still hurting from the punch that punkass kid got in before hojoon completely tore his ass apart. he hasn’t taken those ‘haha poor kid’ jokes lightly since middle school, and he’s not about to start.

he told his mother, of course, and she gave him that kind sort of smile that says ‘ah, dear, you fucked up’. and, well, maybe he did. maybe he shouldn’t have broken that kid’s wrist. but he could’ve been suspended, and that would’ve been worse, ‘cause then he’d have to actually be around when his mother cries in the morning after he leaves, like she always does.

ms. seo, the teacher watching hojoon and his fellow detentionees today, herds him into her classroom and his eyes fall almost immediately on a black haired boy wearing a leather jacket.

“oh god, it’s you.” hojoon says, almost unconsciously, and jiho looks up and waves. hojoon really doesn’t want to talk to him, because he’s been avoiding him for almost a month and he’s not sure he’s ready to tell him why.

but, he doesn’t know anyone else in this room, and that makes him anxious. so he sits by jiho and tries to do his homework for the day. of course that doesn’t work.

“hojoon,” jiho whispers, leaning over so he can be heard better, “why have you been running from me.”

hojoon has the long answer prepared, and he also has the short answer. he goes for the short answer. “because.”

jiho makes a noise of disdain. “that’s not an answer, tell me.”

hojoon quite literally bites his tongue, making a dark mark with his pencil towards the edge of his science assignment. “it’s gross,” hojoon says at last, turning his dark mark into some sort of tiny monster. “you don’t wanna hear it.”

“i do wanna hear it,” jiho counters, a whine carrying in his voice. “if it’s embarrassing, you can just write it down. note passing is romantic.”

hojoon rolls his eyes, sighing. sounds like a good idea. maybe he actually wants to vent his frustrations to someone. it’s probably not good to keep it in. so he digs his notebook out of his bag and shields his paper from jiho’s wandering eyes, trying to think of the least embarrassing way to phrase it.

in the end, he writes something to the effect of, nobody’s ever cared about me enough and i broke a kid’s wrist for making fun of how poor i am but you didn’t make fun of me and i don’t know how to deal with that, then draws a big X over the words (but not so big that jiho can’t still read it) and writes ‘because’ at the bottom of the page. he rips it out and folds it up, true to note passing style, and gives it to jiho.

jiho looks absolutely delighted to receive such a gift, unfolding it and reading it carefully. it seems like he reads it at least four times before digging some scrap paper out of his own backpack, writing a reply. he passes it back with a sheepish smile and hojoon’s almost scared to read it, then, unfurling it slowly and reading it.

be my friend, then.

--

“do you like dumplings?”

hojoon looks up from the table, looking from the box in jiho’s hands to his face. “uh, yeah, why?”

jiho sets the box down in front of hojoon, sitting on his side of the table for once and beaming at him. “here, then!”

“jiho, i’m not going to eat your lunch-”

“it’s not my lunch, it’s lunch i made for you. i made them this morning, i hope they’re not too cold.”

hojoon stares at the box, cute pink ribbon tied around the black wood, and feels the strongest surge of positive emotion he’s felt since he was like. six years old. “holy shit.”

“what?” jiho asks, concern tinting his voice, and hojoon opens the box, then looks at jiho. he’s fully aware that his eyes are full of tears. “woah, man-”

“thank you,” hojoon whispers, barely audible above the general roar of the cafeteria, and jiho reaches over and wipes a tear from his cheek.

“it’s no problem. how are you today?”

they chat amicably while hojoon practically inhales the dumplings and provided vegetables on the side, still kind of crying because he’s sure this is what a mother’s cooking is supposed to taste like. he’s never really tasted his mother’s, and if he has he can’t remember it anymore.

“hey,” jiho says as the bell rings to signal the end of lunch, “why are you still crying?”

“i haven’t been this emotional since the third grade, jiho,” hojoon says, wiping his eyes and handing the empty lunch box back to jiho. “let me have it.”

jiho nods, reaching over once more to wipe a tear from hojoon’s cheek. hojoon’s not entirely sure the tear was actually there.

--

hojoon’s embarrassed of his house. he’s almost certain that jiho’s is better by far, not some ramshackle thing on the south side of the city, a.k.a. the poor part. but, jiho just kindly introduces himself to hojoon’s mother and compliments the draperies, however dingy and dusty they are. hojoon doesn’t think he’s seen his mom smile so brightly in years.

hojoon’s even more embarrassed of his room. it’s plain and has a total of one band poster hanging in the corner and a clock on the opposite wall. jiho flops face down on his bed and wiggles around, wheezing when hojoon flops on top of him.

“your house is nice,” jiho says, turning his head to the side so hojoon can hear him. “your mom is nice, i think she likes me.”

“i think she likes you mostly because i haven’t had a friend since elementary school.” hojoon says, smiling, and jiho reaches for his hand. hojoon obliges, squeezing jiho’s fingers between his and twisting so he can snuggle his face close to jiho’s.

after a few moments of silence, filled with them breathing softly and the gentle creak of bedsprings as jiho shifts, jiho whispers, “do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“what.”

“i like you a lot,” jiho continues, and hojoon wants to bolt. he stays. “i want to date you.”

“but, we’ve- we’ve only known each other for a few months.” hojoon says, sitting up and realizing too late that this means he’s straddling jiho now, sitting right overtop his butt. “i.”

“some people fuck after a few hours of knowing each other.” jiho points out, obviously ignoring their new position in favor of rolling over and making it more awkward.

“are you implying that you want to fuck me.”

“eventually.”

“god.” hojoon drags a hand down his face, taking a few deep breaths. “are you a good boyfriend?”

“i dunno. if you ask byungjoo he might say yes.” jiho smiles, touching hojoon’s thighs lightly. “i try my best, i think.”

“so you’ll end up loving me, then.” hojoon says, more of a statement than a question. jiho smiles wider.

“i already do.”

--

so. hojoon’s not really any better off, but he does smile sometimes, which is an improvement. jiho is a gushy mess and doesn’t let hojoon forget that he’s totally head over heels for him, which is disgusting and hojoon hates it. but it’s better than being lonely and tired and breaking kids’ wrists every day.

jiho kisses his cheek fondly and tells him he loves him. hojoon sighs and does the same. disgusting.

--

“What do you think? More fruit?”

“Mom-”

“No- more soap, that’s it.”

“Mom,” Jiho says softly, touching his mother’s hands gently, and she looks up from the welcome basket she’s creating. “He’s- he’s my age, Mom, he’s not going to care.”

She pouts, looking back to her carefully arranged basket of soaps, fruit, and candy. “But- I-”

“I can just take the candy, wouldn’t that be better?” Jiho suggests, and she concedes, getting a smaller basket to put the bags of candy in and tying a cute bow on the top of the handle. She looks more than a bit dismayed but Jiho kisses her cheek reassuringly, taking the basket and slipping on some shoes before leaving the house.

They’ve lived next door to the Jeons for years. They’re an old couple who basically hate Jiho, for what reason besides elderly cynicism he’s not sure, and they recently acquired a child- Jiho’s age, and apparently their grandson. He always looked at their pictures when his mother forced him to go over for whatever, seeing many pictures of their son but never any of a grandson, only talk of how awful and ungodly he was.

Thus, Jiho’s not quite sure what to expect; truthfully, he was planning on staying far away from the boy until he was forced to talk to him when school started back, but his mother’s hospitality overrides all of his wishes. Jiho eyes the Pixie Stix sitting in the bottom of the basket and sighs. He’ll ask if he can have the red ones.

It’s a bit of a walk to the old farmhouse, as the Jeons have a mile long driveway (seriously!) and there’s a corn field between their houses, so Jiho has to walk along the main road and then down the driveway. He has to stop to catch his breath, leaning against the porch railing and wheezing- he’s not an athletic kid, he spends his time in the art room at school and has chicken legs.

He’s about to turn and knock on the door when he hears a friendly, “Hey!” from the other side of the porch. He nearly jumps out of his skin, whipping around quickly and finding a very, very short boy standing at the bottom step.

“Can I help you?” The boy asks, raising an eyebrow, sunlight glinting off his glasses.

“Uh, yeah- if you’re Hojoon, this is for you.” Jiho extends the basket and the boy takes it gently.

“Depends on what it is,” he says, peeking into the basket, then grinning. “Aw yeah, I’m Hojoon for sure. Who’re you?”

“Jiho, from next door. My mom’s super into hospitality and all that, so-” Jiho gestures at the basket, and Hojoon nods.

“Cool. I’m not going to ask you to come inside, my grandparents are shitting up a storm at me.” Hojoon sighs, looking around almost awkwardly before motioning for Jiho to follow him.

Jiho has two options- lie and say that his mom wanted him to come right back, when really she was probably planning on him staying for quite a while due to the chatty nature of Mrs. Jeon; or he can follow this boy that he’s known for five minutes to the rear of the house and face, uh, death or something.

Jiho picks the second one after a minute or so of deliberation and follows Hojoon around the side of the house, looking over Hojoon’s shoulder and watching as his fingers tap against the wicker in his hands. He has slender fingers, with mint green polish chipping off his nails and a few rings adorning his left hand, and eventually Hojoon half-looks over his shoulder.

“Do you want to hold my hand or something?” Hojoon asks, and even though he’s joking, Jiho briefly considers saying yes. Hojoon turns so he’s walking backwards, smiling up at Jiho. “You’re cute, y’know, do you have a girlfriend?”

“I-I- no, no I don’t…” Jiho’s cheeks warm and he looks away, pouting slightly. Then he looks back, biting his lip. “Do you?”

Hojoon laughs, loud and hearty, the kind of laugh that lets Jiho know he’s just proposed something stupid. “Nah, that’s why I’m here.”

“You’re here because you don’t have a girlfriend?” Jiho asks, confused, and Hojoon stops so he can pat Jiho’s shoulder.

“You’re sweet, honey.” Hojoon turns back around, walking along the path that cuts through the middle of the corn. “No, I’m here because I don’t want a girlfriend. I’m gayer than a rainbow, Jiho!”

Oh. Jiho tries to think of something to say, but he decides to remain silent. He doesn’t want to make Hojoon mad, or say something insensitive, so he just goes back to watching Hojoon’s hands, even though his fingers are still now.

Eventually they reach a tall oak tree at the rear of the corn field and Hojoon motions for Jiho to sit. Jiho sees that there’s a thick layer of corn stalks laid on the grass around the trunk, a puffy blanket spread over one side. Hojoon sits on the blanketed side and Jiho sits beside him, far enough away that it’s not awkward, and Hojoon begins unpacking the basket.

“I’ve been hiding out here for a while.” Hojoon says as he rips open the Pixie Stix, grabbing a blue one and ripping one end off, tipping his head back and pouring some of the powder into his mouth. “I’ve been here one day,” Hojoon says, dropping his head back down to look at Jiho, “and they’ve already thrown out most of my clothes, shouted at me more times than I can count… it’s shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Jiho says quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Hojoon pats his knee, smiling, then offers Jiho one of the Pixie Stix. By some gracious miracle, it’s a red one, and Jiho smiles and takes it with a thank you, ripping it open and pouring it into his mouth in one go.

“So, Jiho,” Hojoon begins, resting his head against the tree and looking at Jiho with a small smile. “What do you like to do?”

Jiho thinks for a moment, rubbing the empty Stix wrapper between his fingers. “I like to take pictures. I want to be a photographer when I’m older.”

“I wanna be a dancer!” Hojoon says excitedly, sitting up so he can rip another bag of candy open. “But, more than anything I just- I wanna get married.”

Jiho smiles, taking a handful of Jolly Ranchers when they’re offered to him. “That’s cute. I wanna get married too, but I haven’t been very popular with girls lately… I guess I’m too much of a shut-in for them.”

Hojoon scoffs, shoving three Jolly Ranchers in his mouth at once. “That’s bullshit. I’m a shut-in too, my other boyfriend didn’t mind… he broke up with me after my parents started grounding me for weeks at a time.”

Jiho stays silent, again not wanting to say anything improper, and unwraps one of the candies in his hand instead. “That’s bullshit too,” he says eventually, and Hojoon nods.

“Yeah, couldn’t handle a little pressure… I guess he was afraid of his parents finding out. Whatever.” Hojoon curls up so his knees are pressed against his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “It’s not like I’m going to get another one while I’m here, I think my grandparents would literally beat me to death with the crucifix hanging in the foyer.”

Jiho can’t help it- he laughs, then feels bad until Hojoon laughs too. Hojoon reaches over and pats his shoulder, a bit awkward, but the sentiment is there. “You’re a cool guy, Jiho,” Hojoon says, turning his head to look at Jiho and resting his cheek against his knees. It smushes his face up in the cutest way and Jiho grins, folding up to mimic his position and hoping he’s only half as cute.

“Do you want my number?” Jiho asks, and Hojoon nods, digging his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, yeah, but my grandparents check my phone every day, so.” Hojoon unlocks his phone and taps some things on his screen and Jiho waits for the go ahead before telling him his phone number, Hojoon doing the same and then pressing his face into Jiho’s shoulder, sighing. “You’re gonna be my only friend, I swear.”

Jiho lifts a hand to awkwardly pat Hojoon’s shoulder, then slowly slides his arm around them, feeling weird and out of sorts. Hojoon pulls away, smiling at Jiho. “You don’t have to,” he says softly, and then something sparks in Jiho that tells him that he wants to, he wants to. So he puts his arm back around Hojoon’s shoulder, pulling him back, and Hojoon sighs contentedly.

Jiho ends up dozing off and doesn’t make it back home until five, but his mother doesn’t tell him off for it, as expected. She never really has yelled at him for much of anything, which makes Jiho feel bad for Hojoon- being yelled at every day has to suck.

He texts Hojoon as soon as he gets upstairs to his room, asking if he’s eaten all the candy yet, and Hojoon assures him that he’ll save some, just for him. It makes Jiho blush and he pats his cheeks, feeling something warm in his chest, too.

--

Jiho doesn’t regret staying up until five AM every day for a week until his mother wakes him up to weed the garden with her at eight on a Saturday. He’s basically half-dead until he hears a soft, now-familiar voice ask his mom if they can help, then hears the same voice introduce themselves.

“What’s up?” Hojoon says simply, flopping down in the grass beside Jiho, and Jiho shrugs.

“Just weeding, I’m tired as hell,” Jiho groans, leaning against Hojoon, and Hojoon lifts a hand to pet Jiho’s hair.

“Well, no worries. My grandparents got mad this morning because I had my phone in my room, so it’s gone all of next week. You can rest easy.”

Jiho frowns, shifting so his head is resting on Hojoon’s shoulder. “That means we have to hang out, then.”

“Yeah, you should let me see your room after this.” Hojoon reaches out and plucks a dandelion from the soil, hitting the roots against his jeans and making dirt scatter. “Your mom’s a cool lady, so you probably have a better room than me.”

Jiho shrugs. “White walls, my doors are black… I have lots of posters and shoes.”

Hojoon laughs, patting Jiho’s knee. “I have white walls and a literal tapestry of Jesus. Nothing else.”

“A literal tapestry of Jesus?” Jiho repeats incredulously, and Hojoon nods with a snort. “That’s unbelievable.”

“I know, I can’t jack off because Jesus is watching me, with his sweet Jesus face.”

Jiho laughs but his face still warms, because while that’s certainly a funny thing to envision (making eye contact with Jesus while touching your dick, come on) but at the same time it’s-

Jiho pulls away so he can look at Hojoon’s face and imagines it twisted with pleasure, then quickly returns to his work. Hojoon doesn’t seem to notice and starts telling Jiho about what his grandparents have been harping at him, Bible verses and bits of Sunday sermons. It’s almost disgusting to hear about, even though Jiho doesn’t quite understand, and he honestly just wants to keep Hojoon at his house, keep him away from his grandparents. Hojoon sounds so unaffected, laughing and poking fun at them, but Jiho knows that’s gotta hurt.

Jiho can’t stop himself from pouting the rest of the time they’re sitting on the lawn, then jumping up when his mother comes by to tell them that the garden looks good enough.

Hojoon follows him excitedly into the house, making awed noises at the smooth wood furniture sitting around the house. “It’s so cool in here, so modern! I love it, let me live here.”

“You never know, I might kidnap you,” Jiho teases, smiling at Hojoon as he starts hopping up the stairs, Hojoon following close behind.

“God, please do. Save me from my grandparents.” Hojoon means it as a joke, but Jiho’s voice takes on a serious tone.

“I would if I could,” he says, almost fiercely, and something softens in Hojoon’s eyes. It makes Jiho blush, so he takes the rest of the stairs two at a time and opens the door to his room, gesturing in grandly.

Hojoon shuffles into the room and blinks at the various posters, perfume and Kyary and the such, and then presses his face against Jiho’s wall.

“Uh, you alright?” Jiho asks, shutting the door softly behind him, and Hojoon groans, rubbing his face against one of the Kyary posters.

“She’s so cute, god.” Hojoon spreads his arms out so he’s basically hugging the wall and Jiho snorts, flopping onto his bed. Hojoon steps back, then follows suit, throwing an arm over Jiho’s stomach. “It’s nice in here, it smells, uh. Not like holy incense, at least.”

Jiho laughs, pausing before putting an arm around Hojoon’s shoulders. It feels weird, especially since he hasn’t even known Hojoon that long, but Hojoon seems perfectly content to lay next to Jiho with his head resting on his chest.

“It’s candles,” Jiho says eventually, and Hojoon looks around for the fabled candles, finding them on the empty shelves on the walls and the night stand. “If I don’t burn them, it smells like wood and paint in here.”

“I like the smell of wood and paint, too,” Hojoon sighs, laying his head back down. “I think it might be you, I like your cologne.”

Jiho smiles, cheeks warming. “Thanks, I- your hair smells nice, yeah.”

“Good, it’s green apple scented.” Hojoon nuzzles his face into Jiho’s neck, inhaling deeply and exhaling in a satisfied puff. “So nice.”

Jiho feels strange but he decides to pull Hojoon closer, comfy with the weight and warmth of Hojoon laying half on him.

“What’s school like here?” Hojoon asks, sounding half asleep. His breath is warm on Jiho’s neck, and Jiho feels goosebumps rise on his skin.

“It’s- it’s pretty normal, uh. I don’t… I don’t think anything bad will happen to you.” Jiho cringes at himself over how weird a reassurance that was. “I-I mean- shit, I don’t want to use this- this cliche, but…”

“Go for it, man, we’re already cuddling in your bedroom, I think we’re definitely falling into a cliche.” Hojoon pokes at Jiho’s side and Jiho sticks his tongue out even though Hojoon can’t see it.

“Well, then, uh- my best friend, Byungjoo, I’ve been friends with him since I was five… he’s been dating this guy for almost three years and it’s- nothing bad’s ever happened to either of them, so…”

Hojoon nods, patting Jiho’s stomach gently. “That’s not cliche. At least I know I won’t have a double dose at school.”

Jiho raises a hand to pet Hojoon’s hair, raking it away from his face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Hojoon smiles, tilting his head up to look at Jiho. “You’re sweet. Thank you for being my friend.”

“Ew, gross.”

--

Pleasant warmth melts into God-has-come-to-reap-the-sinners hellfire and Jiho’s mother basically has to beg him to put on some clothes before he goes to get the mail. Fortunately for her, this particular day Jiho put on clothes of his own volition, because Byungjoo was coming over for the first time in weeks.

“What the fuck, where have you been,” are the first things out of Jiho’s mouth, and Byungjoo laughs nervously.

“Uh, well. Hansol kind of-”

“Ah, yes, say no more!” Jiho makes a grand gesture, ushering Byungjoo into the house, and Byungjoo laughs.

“God, what’s got you so giddy? Usually you act like you hate me over summer break.”

“Well that’s just because I have to find other forms of entertainment, and also because heat makes me angry.” Jiho clears his throat, shutting the door behind him so the cool air doesn’t escape the house. Byungjoo tries to turn right into the kitchen, as usual hunting for a snack like it’s his own house (it practically is), but Jiho grabs his wrist and drags him upstairs.

“What gives! I haven’t eaten all day, my mom made me go to the store, please.”

“No, I’ve got something important to tell you- actually.” Jiho stops midway up the stairs, causing Byungjoo to bump into him. “I’m thirsty as fuck, hold on.”

“Ugh, make up your damn mind.” Byungjoo follows him back down to the kitchen, each of them grabbing a can of soda and heading upstairs with Byungjoo mumbling some useless fact about soda dehydrating you.

Jiho pauses at his door to let Byungjoo in first, then pushes the door to and sits at his desk, Byungjoo taking a seat on his bed. Byungjoo takes a long drink of his soda before folding his legs up and asking what’s so important.

Jiho exhales, leaning back in his desk chair and closing his eyes. “It’s going to get personal.”

“Whatever, I’m fine with personal. Hansol’s like a therapist, he makes me talk about my feelings a lot.”

Jiho snorts, then takes a deep breath. “When did you know you were gay?” It sounds rather blunt, and Jiho wishes he hadn’t said it now that he actually did, but Byungjoo just makes a neutral sound in the back of his throat.

“I dunno, I guess it was just always there. I just thought girls didn’t like me, but it was the opposite… I dunno. Why?” Byungjoo raises an eyebrow, then both eyebrows. “Do you think you’re gay?”

“I don’t knoooow,” Jiho groans, smacking his hands over his face. “I just- you know about the guy next door, yeah?”

“Yeah, Hojoon, you’ve told me about him before and I saw him in that one selfie you posted to Twitter…” Byungjoo laughs, leaning over to poke Jiho in the ribs. “Do you have a crush on him?”

Jiho drags his hands down his face, turning to look at Byungjoo while his fingertips are still caught on his sticky skin, dragging his eyelids and lips down. Byungjoo cracks up, then quickly does the same to his own face, causing both of them to start laughing, Jiho scooting over to the bed just so he can shove Byungjoo over.

“But, no, seriously-” Byungjoo begins, changing the tone while Jiho is laid over onto him, head resting on his stomach. “I don’t think you need to think too much about it. It could just be a one time thing, you’ve had a lot of girlfriends before… it’s not a big deal, really.”

Jiho buries his face in Byungjoo’s shirt, then yells about it smelling like ass, to which Byungjoo replies that it’s not ass, it’s summer!

“I didn’t know summer smelled like ass, Byungjoo!” Jiho yells, pointing at him in fake accusation, and Byungjoo gasps dramatically.

“It’s always smelled like ass, Jiho! You just never notice because you go outside once a week!”

“... Well. True, I guess.”

--

Byungjoo leaves around two because Hansol offered to take him for ice cream and “I can’t pass up ice cream, Jiho, I can’t.” Jiho heads downstairs to send him off and then goes to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich, taking it to his room and flopping onto his bed. He sits up when his phone goes off, reaching for it and unlocking it to see who’s texted him.

The text is from Hojoon and it reads, ‘meet me at the tree, please’. Jiho glances out the window, even though he knows he won’t be able to see Hojoon from his room, then messages him back.

‘can i bring my sandwich?’

Hojoon says yes, with a laughing emoticon, and Jiho quickly hops up and goes downstairs, slipping on his shoes and calling to his mom that he’d be back later. She doesn’t respond, so Jiho makes sure he has his phone in case she decides to text him, then heads to the tree.

While walking between the separate fields, corn leaves brushing against his arms, he thinks what he’s going to tell Hojoon. He knows it’s probably much too early to really tell whether or not it’s a crush, with only a month and a half of prior friendship behind them, but Jiho doesn’t know if it’s just because this is all so new. Strangely, it’s not weirding him out one bit- he feels like he should feel gross or unsettled by it, but all he really wants to do is kiss Hojoon and tell him how much he likes him.

Even envisioning it isn’t weird to him, not anymore, and Jiho truly thinks it was just weird to think about in the beginning because he hadn’t known Hojoon for very long. It’d be the same with a girl, because ‘taking it slow is a virtue’ (quote Byungjoo), but still.

In short, it makes Jiho ‘dumb and blushy’, as described by him to Byungjoo, and Byungjoo thought it was insanely cute, so it must not be too bad.

“Hey,” Jiho says to announce his arrival, sitting down beside Hojoon on the newly reconstructed stalk mat. The other mat had begun decomposing, with recent storms, and was now a pleasant layer of shreds underneath the new one, along with a new blanket courtesy of Jiho.

Hojoon smiles at him but it’s flimsy and when he tips his head up, Jiho can see tears shining on his cheeks. Jiho reaches over and gently grabs hold of one of his hands. “What’s the matter?” Jiho asks softly, curling his fingers around Hojoon’s, and Hojoon inhales deeply, tipping his head back so it bumps against the tree trunk.

“I need someone with me,” Hojoon says after a long few moments. “I’m- I’m afraid I’ll do something, like, something worse- I’m not ready for that.”

Jiho honestly doesn’t know what the hell Hojoon’s talking about, but he accepts it anyway. If he presses, he could make Hojoon even more upset, and he doesn’t want to do that. “I’m free the whole day,” Jiho responds at last, shifting both so his knee is out of the glaring sunshine and so that he’s closer to Hojoon.

Hojoon scoots closer as well, resting his head on Jiho’s chest, and Jiho pauses a bit before pressing his face into Hojoon’s hair, still styled nicely presumably from church that morning, based on Hojoon’s dressy clothes.

“I’m sorry,” Hojoon mumbles, pulling his hand away from Jiho’s so he can pick a hair off of his white dress shirt. “That was so vague, you can’t help me if you don’t know what’s wrong.”

“It’s fine,” Jiho says, turning his head to the side so Hojoon can hear him clearly. “Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Hojoon takes his glasses off, folding up the earpieces and laying them to the side so he can bury his face into Jiho’s chest. Jiho wraps his arms securely around Hojoon, even though usually he’d be upset about how hot it is, and there’s a few moments of silence before Hojoon sobs into his chest, loud and pitiful.

Almost on reflex, Jiho starts crying too, tears dripping into Hojoon’s hair. He starts rocking gently and Hojoon hugs him tightly, turning his head to the side so he can take a few deep, shuddery breaths.

“This is bullshit,” Hojoon whispers, and Jiho pries Hojoon away from him so he can wipe his face.

“I’m sorry. Whatever happened, I’m sorry.” Jiho says quietly, vision still blurry, and Hojoon nods in acknowledgement.

Hojoon then shifts away from Jiho, making vague gestures with his hands. “Here- can we cuddle while I tell you, I just- I really need that right now.”

Jiho nods, moving so his back is resting against the tree trunk and motioning for Hojoon to mimic his position, patting his chest. Hojoon barely hesitates, scooting in between Jiho’s legs and laughing when Jiho lays one over Hojoon’s own legs. Hojoon lays back against Jiho’s chest and rests his head on his shoulder, sighing.

“If I’d stayed in the house any longer,” Hojoon begins, looking up into the tree boughs, “I would have for sure tried to kill myself. It was such a dumb impulse, but I was just like, dude. What’s the fucking point?” His head falls to the side and he presses his face against Jiho’s neck, sighing. “My relatives aren’t ever going to stop bitching at me and acting like I’m the next Black Plague, I’m never going to make them happy- hell, I can’t make myself happy.”

Jiho stays silent for a long while, trying to pick the right words to say but ending up with, “I- I can’t really help.” It sounds insensitive and awful and Jiho wishes he’d just kept his mouth shut, but he feels Hojoon nod anyway.

Hojoon twists so he’s laying on his side, shifting so his shoulder isn’t shoved into Jiho’s chest. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to. Just distract me, make me happy for a bit.”

“A-Alright, here, check this out.” Jiho leans so he can take his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and opening one of the game apps he has. “I’ve had this for years, I literally play it every day during the school year… I get bored easy and it’s fun.”

Hojoon sits up more to peer at the screen, reaching over Jiho’s legs to get his glasses and wiping them off before slipping them onto his face. He watches as Jiho shows him the objective of the game- silly child things, like popping balloons and catching bees, but they’re so varied and specific about what to pop and catch that it’s something of a challenge.

“Alright,” Hojoon says, taking the phone from Jiho, “I don’t know how in the hell a five year old is supposed to figure this out. I’m seventeen and I really don’t know what the fuck you just told me.”

Jiho laughs, wrapping his arms around Hojoon’s torso and leaving his arms free. “It’s really fun though, you’ll see.”

--

Jiho spends the afternoon there in the shade of the tree, most of that time spent listening to Hojoon shout at bees (“Motherfucker! That one was totally a bumblebee, you saw that shit!”) and with Jiho coaching him gently while finally finishing his long neglected sandwich. As the sun sets and his phone flashes with texts from his mother, asking if he’s going to come home for dinner, he sighs and slides his hands along Hojoon’s arms, laying his hands carefully over Hojoon’s.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Hojoon sighs, turning the phone upright so the screen will rotate and going to Jiho’s messages, handing the phone back to Jiho.

Jiho locks his phone and tosses it off to the side, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tight. “I don’t expect it to make you any happier, but I think I really like you a lot.”

“Well, I’d sure hope so, we’ve been friends for a while now, it’d be shit if you didn’t like me.” Hojoon teases gently, smiling as Jiho presses their cheeks together briefly.

“You know what I mean,” Jiho says softly. He’s so embarrassed- this was a lot easier when he was talking about it in what ifs and questions, not with definitive statements. But, somehow, it makes him feel free, like admitting to a lie or apologizing to someone. Weird.

“You’ve only known me for a month,” Hojoon replies, sounding almost forced, as if he’s saying it out of obligation. “I’m- I’m a lot to handle, Jiho.”

Jiho effectively ignores him, asking instead, “Do you like me too?”

“Well- you’re my only friend, none of my old friends talk to me anymore…” Hojoon pulls his knees to his chest and Jiho moves his arms to accommodate the extra limbs, holding tight. “Maybe… give me some time.”

“Time alone?”

Hojoon shakes his head. “Don’t leave me alone, no.”

Jiho smiles, picking his phone back up and unlocking it. “More bees?”

“Fuck, yes.”

--

‘hey, are you awake’ is the text Jiho sends at five AM, two weeks later. He gets various angry emoticons and an ‘i am now, prick’ from Hojoon and Jiho grins at his phone, texting back quickly.

‘is it possible for you to sneak out’

‘not without facing certain death. why?’

Jiho sighs. Hojoon is bold, but not that bold- he values peace and quiet at home, and it would be bad news for him if he was found.

‘it’s fine’, Jiho texts back, and Hojoon sends frustrated emoticons at him.

‘tell me you ass, what do you wanna do?’

Jiho tells him to look out his window at the stars, then asks, ‘isn’t this shit romantic?’ Hojoon tells him to shut up and meet him at their usual spot.

It’s not hard to get out of his window, even though he does have a two-floor drop. It’s softened greatly by the layer of fresh soil directly beneath his window, and while he may have killed a few sunflowers in the making, he doesn’t really regret it. Summer nights are always somewhat cold, in stark contrast to the hellish heat of day, and Jiho’s flannel pajamas aren’t really doing much for him, not to mention his toes… his poor, poor toes.

“I’m freezing my ass off,” Jiho announces once he’s standing in front of Hojoon, and Hojoon sticks his tongue out. He looks so hilariously adorable, with his hair sticking up in all directions and glasses askew on his face, drool dried to his cheek and eyes puffy, and Jiho’s never loved him more-

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, this was your idea.” Hojoon grumbles, motioning for Jiho to follow him. “Come, my child. We must lay in the field.”

There is indeed a field stretching out behind the corn, unused farmland that the Jeons probably own, and Hojoon flops onto the grass a few feet away from the rows of corn, stretching out on his back. Jiho follows suit, bumping his feet against Hojoon’s once he’s laid down, and Hojoon bumps back more forcefully.

“This is kinda romantic,” Hojoon says, reaching up to fix his glasses. “It’d be more romantic if you hadn’t woken me up, though- I think I was having a good dream.”

“I’m sorry,” Jiho says, genuine, and Hojoon laughs.

“It was probably about you anyway.”

Oh. Oh dear. “Ah, that’s- ah.” Jiho feels his face heat up and he scrunches up his face when Hojoon turns his head to look at him.

“Too soon?” Hojoon asks, grinning, and Jiho sticks his tongue out at him.

“Don’t lead me on, that’s rude,” Jiho says, tone light but only half joking.

“Now, now, it’s not that, I’m testing it out.” Hojoon reaches over and grabs Jiho’s hand, waving their hands around in the air. “Y’know, Jiho, I don’t know if it’s because I’m really fucking tired or not, but you’re super cute. Like, mega cute.”

Jiho smiles, turning onto his side to face Hojoon, Hojoon mimicking him and bringing their hands close to his face. “I’m not tired at all, and you’re super cute too. Cuter than me.”

Hojoon reaches out and cups Jiho’s cheek, so Jiho does the same to him, running his thumb under Hojoon’s eye. “Jiho, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you ever think about kissing people? Just in general, like, nobody in particular.”

Jiho’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks of an answer. “Well… yeah, I guess- I haven’t kissed anyone in a really long time… do you?”

Hojoon nods, biting his lips. “Sometimes I think about kissing you, just because.”

“Do you want to?” Jiho whispers, afraid of the answer. Hojoon nods.

“Sure, I’ve got just the right amount of drool on my face for this to be totally not hot.”

Jiho laughs, scooting closer and tentatively pressing his forehead against Hojoon’s, keeping his hand on Hojoon’s cheek. “I’m- I’m kind of scared,” Jiho admits quietly, and Hojoon smiles.

“You’re cute, Jiho. Here,” Hojoon pushes Jiho’s hair away from his face and tilts his chin up, but stops when their noses smush together. “Shit, fuck, okay. Hold on, sit up.”

They sit up together and Hojoon motions for Jiho to face him, Jiho giggling because it’s so embarrassing and awkward. It’s certainly not his first kiss, but it feels like one, with the weird set up and the build up of excitement and fear in his stomach.

Hojoon ends up being too short to properly take the lead and bitches about Jiho’s “shitty noodle body”, then hooks his arms around Jiho’s neck and pulls him down more, kissing him more gently than Jiho would have imagined- though, he’s not sure what he imagined at all.

When Hojoon pulls away, loosening his hold on Jiho, Jiho leans down further to press their lips together again, then again, until Hojoon falls back onto the grass with a tiny ‘oof’ into Jiho’s mouth. Jiho laughs, pulling away completely and snuggling his face into Hojoon’s neck.

Hojoon makes some weird smacking noises with his mouth and Jiho looks up at him, equal parts concerned and amused. “Is that Chapstick?”

“Uh, no, it’s- it’s lip gloss.” Jiho’s cheeks redden a bit. “I thought it’d be gone by now-”

“I like it, come back up here. I need more of it.”

--

With cooling temperatures comes the Building of Death, also known as the local high school. Jiho has a lot of friends but he truly does not care about what they did over summer vacation, he just cares about the embodiment of his summer vacation not dying his first day of school.

“Jesus fuck,” Hojoon says very plainly when he sits at Jiho’s lunch table, waving to the two other occupants of the table.  “Hi, hello. Surely you know who I am, but who are you two?”

The others introduce themselves before Jiho gets a chance to do it for them and Hansol eyes Hojoon strangely the rest of their lunch hour. Jiho also catches Hansol and Byungjoo both staring at him strangely, as if they’re seeing some alien creature, and after school he asks about it.

“Well…” Byungjoo says sheepishly, cheeks pink. “When you were talking about it, I- I really didn’t think you were serious.”

“‘It’?” Jiho repeats, and Byungjoo makes a face.

“I mean when you asked me about the- the gay stuff, I was like, oh, he’s just asking. But no, you just- is he your boyfriend?”

“Not officially, no,” Jiho says wistfully, flopping down on the bench beside Byungjoo. Hansol always splits off to go home, then always, always calls Byungjoo a couple hours later to see if he wants to go for something to eat. It’s cute, honestly, and Jiho wonders if he and Hojoon will be the same way one day.

“Well, good luck then, I guess. I can tell you really like him, it’s… it’s gross.”

Jiho makes a noise of surprise and offense and Byungjoo laughs brightly. “Excuse me! You and your dumb boyfriend go for ice cream every Saturday and- and Byungjoo, you use purple condoms.”

Byungjoo’s laughter stops, choking off when he turns beet red. “Those aren’t- we don’t use them, shut up.”

Jiho pokes Byungjoo in the ribs, grinning. “Aha, going at it raw, are we?”

“Stop, stop, stop, please- hey, look.” Byungjoo points across the lawn at a small figure approaching them. When the person looks up and the sunlight catches their glasses, Jiho nods, waving at them.

“Hi, Hojoon, you’re just in time.” Byungjoo says, scooting over so Hojoon can sit between him and Jiho. “Jiho’s being a dick to me about my sex life.”

“Ah, great. This is the sort of conversation I need.” Hojoon leans back, wrapping an arm around both Jiho and Byungjoo’s shoulders, squeezing them both equally as tight. “My grandma just called.”

“Oh boy,” Jiho says, laying his head over on Hojoon’s shoulder. “What about?”

Hojoon sighs. “My parents are getting a divorce. Something about my dad not spending enough time at home, mom’s feeling neglected… she’s moving up here, moving into my grandparents’ house until she can find a place of her own.” Hojoon smiles anyway, crossing his legs. “At least I’m here permanently, no chance of getting rid of me now.”

Jiho wraps an arm around Hojoon’s torso, hugging him close. “Good, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Whoops, that’s my cue.” Byungjoo gets up and walks away hurriedly, calling a, “bye guys!” over his shoulder and pulling his phone out of his pocket, presumably to text Hansol.

Jiho laughs, pulling his legs up onto the bench and snuggling closer. “Isn’t he just the cutest?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hojoon watches Byungjoo leave, a smile on his face. “He’s dating that Hansol guy, right?”

Jiho nods. “Their three year anniversary is in a week. It’s going to be a very stressful time for me.”

“Why?”

“Because Byungjoo will not shut up about it, ever.”

Hojoon laughs, laying his head over onto Jiho’s. “Maybe we’ll be like that, one day.”

Jiho has two options: one, he can overreact and maybe cry, or two, he can play it cool. He tries for the second. “We must be better than them.”

“We need to get a head start, then, come on.” Hojoon stands up, motioning for Jiho to do the same, and then leads him down the sidewalk. “I saw a really cute looking diner in town, we’re going on a date.”

Jiho, flustered, just follows Hojoon onto the street and into town, holding one of his hands tightly. Hojoon asks him questions on the way, asking what this business or that restaurant was, and Jiho tells him accordingly. Living here for sixteen years is finally starting to pay off.

He might not be able to not shut up about Jiho yet, but for the moment, Hojoon’s taking to rambling about the “aesthetics” of the diner. Jiho tries to point out that it’s just black and white floors with pastel booths, but Hojoon tells him that’s the point. Jiho shrugs and just accepts it, smiling whenever Hojoon looks around in awe and goes, “Jesus Christ, I want to look like this diner.”

--

Leaves fall, then snow falls, then Hojoon falls, in that order. Jiho’s honestly never been looked at with that much adoration by someone other than his mother, and he’s not sure what to do with it. He feels like he should treasure it, take a picture or something just to remember it, but in the end he just tries to commit it to memory. Hojoon loves me.

“The things I do for you,” Hojoon groans, cheeks flushed from the cold. “Couldn’t we have met somewhere else?”

“No, this is sentimental.” Jiho tells him, pulling up the edge of his blanket so Hojoon can crawl under too.

“Getting me outside when it’s below freezing, what is wrong with you?” Hojoon asks incredulously, and Jiho kisses the tip of his nose.

“It’s a testament to what we’re willing to do for each other. At least there’s no snow on the ground anymore, and it’s not raining, so.”

Hojoon grumbles, scooting closer to Jiho and burying his freezing face into Jiho’s neck, unzipping the top of Jiho’s jacket to do so. Jiho laughs and puts an arm around him, pulling him closer. “What’s so important, anyway?” Hojoon asks, lifting his head slightly to speak, then dropping it back down.

Jiho looks to the far horizon, at the trees in the distance and the bleak winter sky. “I love you a lot, probably more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“Oh god, this is going to be cheesy as fuck.”

“Shut up, let me be cheesy as fuck.” Jiho clears his throat, resituating so he’s sitting up more. “You mean a lot to me- everything to me. I’d do anything for you, uh- I’m running out of cheap movie cliches.”

“Ah, yes, nothing makes me happier than cheap movie cliches.” Hojoon grins and kisses at Jiho’s neck, breath warm against his chilled skin. “But you can stop, I know all this. Can we go inside so we can be even more sappy without facing hypothermia?”

Jiho nods, moving to stand up. Hojoon reaches out for Jiho to pull him up, but instead Jiho scoops him into his arms with only a little effort, carrying him to his house and ending up in his bedroom with mugs of tea.

“Your mother is a literal godsend,” Hojoon states as he sips his tea, then sets it on the nightstand. “I want you to have something, by the way.”

“Oh?” Jiho sets his own mug on his desk, turning around in his chair to look at Hojoon.

Hojoon wiggles one of his ever-present rings off of his hand, holding it out for Jiho to take. “It’s my favorite one, and you’re my favorite one, so.”

Jiho’s cheeks warm and he slips the ring on, finding it’s a bit loose but comfortably so. “Thank you, it’s pretty… I don’t have much to give you, uh, you can take one of my Kyary posters if you want.” Hojoon eyes the Fashion Monster one, and Jiho softly whispers, “Not that one.”

--

Jiho feels the need to ask permission, but when he asks, Sangdo just tells him that how he spends his free time is none of his business. The problem is that Jiho has no idea how to go about it, so he ends up standing awkwardly in the front room of a brothel being eyed by an equally awkward hostess.

“Um, do you… do you have any preferences, sir?” She asks gently, as if to ease him along, and Jiho inhales shakily.

“I- I like, I like boys.” Okay, that was weird to say. Fuck.

The hostess nods, smiling, and turns to the back room, motioning for Jiho to follow her. As they walk through, she turns her head slightly to talk to Jiho over her shoulder, and asks, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Jiho shakes his head, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “N-No, I haven’t, I- I usually don’t worry about, about sex, but I’ve been very- very stressed.”

The hostess makes a noise of understanding, returning her attention to where she’s walking. The hallway they’re in opens up into a big room, dimly lit and filled with sweet smelling smoke, couches arranged perfectly with people of all sizes and sorts lounging on them, most smiling at Jiho kindly.

“Don’t worry,” the hostess says when she sees Jiho’s gaze nervously moving around the room, “I know just the one for you.”

Jiho nods, letting her guide him down another hallway to his left and into a nicely furnished room, something like a lavish hotel that reminded him of his days traveling with his father. The hostess tells him that, first, the room is soundproof, and second, that she’ll be back soon with his escort.

Jiho sits on the bed, nervous beyond all belief, and drags his hands down his face. It was stupid doing this, why did he even get the idea, ugh-

He looks up when the door shuts and closes and sees the most beautiful man- the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t help but gawk for a bit and the man situates his scanty silks so they fan over his skin better.

Jiho swallows thickly, wringing his hands as he makes himself look at the man’s face. “I- oh god, hello, um, how are you today?”

He laughs, coming to stand in front of Jiho and gently touching the side of his face. “I’m pretty good, you look like you’re absolutely made of money.”

Jiho just nods, reaching but letting his hand hover over the man’s tan skin. “W-What’s your name?”

“My name?” He repeats, almost astonished, and Jiho nods. “It’s Hojoon. What’s yours?”

“Jiho, can I touch you?”

Hojoon scoffs, shifting so his thigh brushes against Jiho’s hand. “Do whatever you want to, it’s not like I particularly care.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, though…” Jiho says, pouting slightly, and Hojoon laughs and leans in.

“You’re sweet, darling. I like you already.” He whispers, breath ghosting over Jiho’s face, and Jiho bites his lip anxiously.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Don’t ask, it’ll get annoying.”

Jiho nods and presses his lips to Hojoon’s, who immediately deepens the kiss and pushes his way into Jiho’s lap. Ah, yes, Jiho forgot why he was here for a few moments, but he feels how flushed Hojoon’s cheeks are from their close proximity and he notices that Hojoon tastes like bubblegum- it’s cute.

Jiho scoots up the bed and takes Hojoon with him, laying back and twisting so Hojoon is beneath him, not breaking lip contact the entire way. He bites at Hojoon’s lips gently, then breaks away and buries his face in Hojoon’s neck. He knows Hojoon told him not to ask, but- “Can I bite you?”

“Everyone else does,” Hojoon breathes out, turning his head to the side to give Jiho more room, and Jiho sighs.

“Do you like it, though?”

“I’d like it from you, yeah.”

Just sweet talk, most likely, but it still makes Jiho feel special. Probably the intended effect. Jiho nips at Hojoon’s neck at first, each in a different spot before he finds the one place that makes Hojoon tense slightly, where he bites harder. Hojoon gasps, moving to wrap his legs around Jiho’s waist, and Jiho pulls away to look at Hojoon.

“You’re so pretty,” Jiho says, lifting a hand to pet at Hojoon’s rich brown hair, gently swiping a thumb under one of his eyes and glancing at the makeup that comes away, a mix of pink blush and dark eyeliner.

“Don’t fall in love just yet,” Hojoon purrs, grinning as he leans up to kiss Jiho again. Jiho slides a hand along Hojoon’s thigh, pulling away once he feels smooth silk beneath his fingers. They’re panties, of course, a light mint color with a white bow on the front, and Jiho smiles and carefully slips them off so he doesn’t ruin them. There are dark, ugly bruises and deep crescent-shaped cuts on Hojoon’s inner thighs and Jiho frowns, dipping down to kiss gently at them, Hojoon reaching down to run his fingers through Jiho’s hair.

“Kind to an escort, that gets you in deep,” Hojoon says absently, brushing Jiho’s fringe away from his face, and Jiho looks up at him. Hojoon smiles at him, motioning for Jiho to come up to face level again, which he does, and Hojoon kisses him sweetly. “Not something you see a lot in first timers,” he whispers against Jiho’s lips, and Jiho nods in acknowledgement and kisses him again, reaching down to unzip and wiggle out of his pants and underwear, all while working his mouth against Hojoon’s. He rolls his hips against Hojoon’s and Hojoon shudders, wrapping his arms around Jiho’s shoulders and pushing up against Jiho, grinding against him and gasping into his mouth. Jiho pulls back and spies what he wants, a bottle of lube, and he laughs because it’s so ridiculously huge.

Hojoon looks in the direction Jiho is reaching and laughs too. “Yeah, yeah, it’s stupidly big isn’t it? Feels kind of dumb.”

Jiho nods, still smiling as he pumps some of the lube onto his hand and wiggles his fingers around to slick them. “This is alright, right?” He asks, looking to Hojoon, and Hojoon nods.

“Go for it, I trust you.”

Something about that makes Jiho’s chest feel very warm and he gently pushes one of Hojoon’s legs to the side, reaching between his legs and pushing a finger inside him, swallowing up the following moan with a kiss.

Hojoon shifts a bit so he can push his hips against Jiho’s hand, whining in the back of his throat, and Jiho pulls away and opens his eyes to look at Hojoon’s face as he moves his finger slowly, adding a second one shortly after so he can see Hojoon’s expression twist as he fucks him with his fingers.

It’s weird, Jiho thinks to himself, that his first time getting laid in so long is with an escort that he’s paying by the hour. But, he doesn’t mind, because it’s not like he’s going to bang anyone in his sect (his only option is Sanggyun, and no, god no), and this doesn’t feel dark and sleazy like he thought it would.

Jiho noses along Hojoon’s neck, kissing at the faint bite mark he made earlier and tipping his head to whisper into Hojoon’s ear. “Is this good?”

Hojoon whines, nodding, and Jiho kisses him briefly, not letting up just yet. Hojoon tilts his hips, seeking friction, and when Jiho glances down he sees that there’s precum dripping onto Hojoon’s silky robe. Jiho bites his lip, thinking for a moment, before he pulls his hands away from Hojoon and grabs his hips instead. He rolls onto his back, Hojoon laying on top of him, and nuzzles Hojoon’s face softly. “Ride me, if you want,” he whispers, and Hojoon inhales, nodding. As he sits up and scoots back, Jiho undoes the tie on his robe and reaches up to slip it off of Hojoon’s shoulders, pausing to shoot Hojoon a look that asks, ‘okay?’

Hojoon nods and Jiho pushes the robe away, smiling and running his fingers along the smooth skin. “Pretty,” he breathes, trailing his fingers down to Hojoon’s hands and intertwining their fingers.

Hojoon squeezes his hands and smiles back at him, then frees his hands so he can unbutton Jiho’s shirt, pushing the material aside as much as possible once he has. His eyes linger on scars scattered across Jiho’s torso and he runs his fingers along one, a thick one that spreads across Jiho’s side. “Pretty,” he says, rubbing his thumb against another one before grabbing Jiho’s hands again and scooting back, pausing to lean over and pump some lube into his hand, reaching behind him and stopping to work the no-doubt-cold lube around in his hand before wrapping his fingers around Jiho’s aching dick, Jiho jerking slightly and making a soft noise.

“Is there any way you want me to do this?” Hojoon asks, voice husky, and Jiho rubs his thumb across the knuckles of the hand he’s still holding.

“Anyway you like it.”

Hojoon nods, pulling his hands away and making a face at the lube still clinging to his hand, reaching over and wiping it all over a corner of the sheet. Jiho kisses at a scar on Hojoon’s shoulder while he’s leaned over and Hojoon moves to kiss Jiho, gentle but full of desire.

God help me.

Hojoon sits back up and uses his hands to steady himself, laying them on Jiho’s stomach as he lifts up, taking a breath before sinking down on Jiho’s cock, exhaling shakily as he lowers himself slowly. Jiho reaches up to push Hojoon’s hair out of his face, wiping at sweat gathering on his forehead, and Hojoon turns his head to kiss Jiho’s hand before rocking his hips, moan muffled by Jiho’s skin. Jiho drops his hand to rest on Hojoon’s hip, following his motions as he starts up a steady pace that causes the both of them to moan and shake, Hojoon’s thighs shuddering with the exertion of supporting him.

Jiho first pulls Hojoon down to catch his lips, kissing him hard, their lips parting so their teeth clink together; then he grabs Hojoon’s hips and flips them over, Hojoon gasping in surprise and then making some sort of choked noise as Jiho begins slamming into him, pressing gentle kisses along Hojoon’s shoulders to contrast.

Jiho’s barely reached between them to jerk Hojoon off when Hojoon cums with a cry that chokes off into a sob, Hojoon whining when Jiho slows down.

“Don’t- god, don’t worry about me,” Hojoon says into Jiho’s hair, seeming to be struggling for words. “Cum inside me, please.”

Jiho presses open-mouthed kisses up Hojoon’s neck and cums with his moans muffled against Hojoon’s sweaty skin, nuzzling his face into Hojoon’s neck as he rides out his orgasm, Hojoon moving to wrap his arms around Jiho’s shoulders loosely.

Jiho sighs, content, and pulls away from Hojoon slowly, flopping onto the bed beside him and pulling him close. “Can I just sleep here with you, will they yell at me for that?”

Hojoon settles into Jiho’s grasp, pausing to think for a moment. “Uhh, no? But I guess you have to pay for every hour we’re asleep, until you leave at least…”

“I’ve got the money, I promise.”

--

“God, where have you been?” Hyosang asks, squinting, then he grins and pinches Jiho’s cheeks. “You’ve got the glow, you got yourself laid!”

Jiho laughs, swatting Hyosang’s hands away. “Yeah, for a price.”

“Holy shit, you hired a hooker?”

“Not a hooker,” Jiho corrects, “an escort. There’s a difference- paid by the hour, and a hell of a lot nicer.”

Hyosang whistles, shoving Jiho slightly. “Damn, you did good then. How much did you blow on them?”

“Uh, a lot, because I stayed the night.” Jiho feels a little ashamed, suddenly, because it’s probably stupid to get attached at first sight, but Hyosang just laughs.

“Cute, that’s cute. Well, come on, we have breakfast in here. Sanggyun slaved all morning over the stove and still managed to burn an egg so bad that we had to throw out a skillet.”

“Oh dear.”

--

The hostess doesn’t seem that surprised to see Jiho two days after his first visit and she asks kindly if he wants Hojoon again, to which he says yes, of course, and then he asks: “Am I allowed to take him on a date?”

She isn’t fazed, just nods. “Of course. But he’s in high demand, so we might have to make you pay a baseline fee- usually date costs are decided by the escort themselves.”

“That’s fine, I just- I want to take him somewhere nice.” Jiho says awkwardly, and she smiles.

“That’s cute, very cute. You know,” she shifts a bit, heels clicking on the tile of the lobby floor, “he wouldn’t stop talking about how kind you were. You sound very sweet, Mr. Shin, and he doesn’t get many truly kind people.”

Jiho smiles sheepishly, embarrassed at the praise. “Thank you, I didn’t see any point to being mean to him, I mean- he’s getting a weird loner like me laid, I can’t be mean to him.”

The hostess laughs, bowing slightly to dismiss herself before walking to the back room. Within a few minutes, Jiho has Hojoon in his arms, and he feels like he hasn’t seen him in a century.

“You look nice,” Jiho says, appraising Hojoon’s white button up and slacks. He laughs once he sees the old, dirty sneakers Hojoon’s wearing, taking him by the hand and leading him out of the building. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh, shut up, I don’t go on dates much.” Hojoon punches at Jiho’s leg slightly, grinning. “It’s not my fault you’re so sharp all the time, I’ve got a lot to live up to.” He runs his thumb over Jiho’s knuckles, pulling his hand away when Jiho flinches and examining his hand. Jiho’s knuckles are bloody as a result of a job that he’d done the previous day, where an informant started a little trouble and thought he was going to get the best of Jiho, which he didn’t. “What do you even do? Your knuckles are all raw, and there’s this cut on your face… or can you not tell me, is it a secret?”

“Nah, I- surely you’ve heard of the sects, right?”

Hojoon’s gasp is positively astonished, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’re part of a sect? Which one?”

“Yu Sangdo’s!” Jiho says proudly, and Hojoon laughs, giddy.

“That’s so cool, oh my god! Doesn’t that mean you’d be able to get anyone you wanted, though, why did you have to hire someone?”

Jiho shakes his head, making a face. “The only person in my sect that isn’t taken is Sanggyun, and I’d have to be paid before I slept with him. And we don’t have a lot of friends that interest me, I don’t- I don’t like girls as much.”

Hojoon nods sagely, starting to walk again, letting Jiho lead him along the sidewalk. “I get it, yeah. Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“Yeah, if you’re not scared of the answers.”

Hojoon thinks for a moment, gently clasping his hands around one of Jiho’s. “How did this happen?”

“We had this informant who got a little too cocky, so I had to bring him down a couple notches. It’s just a side effect, I guess.” Jiho shrugs, looking down at his free hand, at the thick scabs over his knuckles. “It’s not that bad, there’s been worse.”

“That big scar on your side, how did that happen?” Hojoon asks, eyes bright when Jiho glances over at him.

“I was stabbed, kind of hacked open. Nothing was taken though, praise God, I’m all intact.”

Hojoon laughs, walking a little closer to Jiho and asking more random questions (mostly about all the scars he saw) until they ended up at Jiho’s favorite restaurant- a local diner, whose owner he was fairly good friends with.

Hojoon ends up fawning over the hamburger he ordered for the majority of the date (and it really feels like one, too) and fawning over Jiho for the rest of it, going on about how cool and awesome he is.

Jiho stretches his arms out, laying his upper half on the table, and Hojoon does the same after pushing his plate out of the way, his forehead bumping against Jiho’s. “Can I visit you?” Jiho asks, and Hojoon nods.

“I guess, I mean, they’ve never told us not to have visitors. Some of the other ones have friends that visit every day, my friends don’t care.” Hojoon kisses the tip of Jiho’s nose, smiling wide. “You’re my friend now, though, so it’s alright. You can visit me lots, there’s no rules about it, you don’t even have to pay.”

Jiho laughs, tilting his chin up so he can press his lips to Hojoon’s. There’s something unspoken between them, hanging in the air between their mouths, something Jiho will probably say one day- just not today.

--

Jiho is awoken by someone flopping onto him, and he groans and shoves them off into the floor in return. Indignant shouts come from the floor and he knows that it’s Sanggyun, but he’s tired and doesn’t really care, at least until Sanggyun grabs his face and smooshes his cheeks.

“Wake up, you lazy piece of crap!” Sanggyun yells, using his index fingers to open Jiho’s eyes, and Jiho grumbles and shoves Sanggyun’s hands away. Sanggyun sits on him in turn, wiggling his butt, and any other time Jiho would complain about ass germs. “You barely have free time anymore, so you have to play with me today, dammit.”

Jiho opens an eye, a smile growing on his face. “You bought the new Far Cry, didn’t you?”

Sanggyun beams. “Damn right I did! The multiplayer mode is cool, I want to play with you. Hyosang is awful at it.”

Jiho sighs, pushing at Sanggyun’s back to try and get him off. “Fine, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Sanggyun hops off of Jiho and exits the room, yelling things to himself about ‘success!’. Jiho smiles and climbs out of bed, stretching with a yell before going to get dressed.

A few minutes later, Sanggyun is attempting to beat the shit out of Jiho with his controller and almost succeeding, getting in a few good hits before Jiho yanks it away from him, his thumb slipping over a button that makes Sanggyun’s character fire an arrow into a nearby tree.

There’s a moment of silence while Sanggyun stares at the arrow on-screen before he starts hitting Jiho again, this time with the sides of his fists, yelling that it was his last arrow and that he needed that to go kill a bear.

Their round of multiplayer ends with them running around in-game for a good two hours trying to kill each other in various and increasingly strange ways, such as Jiho setting a pack of honey badgers loose on Sanggyun’s camp and Sanggyun shooting a bee hive that Jiho is standing by with a sniper rifle. They reconcile with some snacks and Sanggyun leans over to look at Jiho’s phone while he’s flipping through the texts he’s gotten recently.

Sanggyun points at a heart beside a particular contact, making somewhat of a surprised noise. “Who is that? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jiho shakes his head, opening that particular contact and showing Sanggyun. “I’ve been too scared to text him, I’ve had his number for a week.”

“Oooo, tell me about him!” Sanggyun snuggles up to Jiho, looking up at him with expectant eyes, so Jiho sighs.

“His name is Hojoon, he’s- he’s gorgeous, he has fluffy hair, it’s cute… he likes to hold my hands.” Jiho bites his lip, waging if he should go further, but Sanggyun doesn’t seem entirely satisfied, so. “I- he’s an, an escort, so I guess it’s weird, huh…”

“Holy shit!” Sanggyun exclaims, hitting Jiho in the face with a puff of Dorito breath. “Dude, I knew you’d gotten laid but I didn’t think you’d gotten attached, bravo man. Bravo.”

Jiho shoves at Sanggyun’s shoulder, and when Sanggyun cheerfully suggests that maybe it might be something more than attachment, he can’t help but smile.

--

Jiho can’t get the picture out of his head, he can’t sleep, he can’t stop thinking about it- about Hyosang, about what they did to him. He stays in bed for as long as he can until it’s his turn to go change Hyosang’s dressings, and the gaunt look to Hyosang’s face, the dark circles underneath his eyes and the bruises that crawl up his face, almost make Jiho want to cry.

And he does cry when he finally turns on his phone and sees that the only one that bothered to text him was Hojoon, asking ‘where are you’ and ‘are you okay ;;;’. When he texts a ‘hi’ and a tired emoticon, Hojoon responds almost immediately with a big block of ‘!!!!!!!!’, then an, ‘i want to see you, can you meet me somewhere?’

Jiho says yes, of course, and the first thing Hojoon tells him when he slides into the booth is, “God, you look like shit.”

Jiho laughs, and it’s close to genuine. “Thanks. How have you been?”

“Worried? You got to where you texted me every day and then you just stopped.” Hojoon whines, pouting and reaching for Jiho’s hands.

Jiho grabs Hojoon’s hands and closes his around them softly, bringing them to his face and kissing Hojoon’s fingers. “I’m sorry, a lot of things have happened, everything’s- it’s awful.”

Hojoon stands up, not pulling his hands from Jiho’s grip, and comes to sit beside Jiho, cuddling close to him and kissing his cheek. “Tell me all about it.”

So Jiho does, recounting details and eventually crumpling, tears welling up in his eyes and he turns to make an absolutely pitiful sound into Hojoon’s shoulder. Hojoon wraps his arms around Jiho and squeezes tight, turning his head to kiss at Jiho’s cheeks and neck, reaching up to pet Jiho’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Hojoon whispers, pushing Jiho back a bit so he can wipe the tears off his face. “It sounds horrible, I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” Jiho whispers, voice cracking, and Hojoon kisses him gently. Jiho sobs, resting his hands on Hojoon’s shoulders. “I-I’m so scared, Hojoon, it c-could have been any one of us- it could have been m-me…”

“But it wasn’t, it won’t be, and you’re safe.” Hojoon says firmly, brushing Jiho’s fringe away from his face so he can kiss his forehead.

“I love you,” Jiho whispers, taking Hojoon’s hands into his own. “I love you, I love you, I don’t want to be alone, I can’t sleep, I haven’t slept in days…”

Hojoon pulls Jiho into his arms, holding him close and rocking gently, back and forth, until Jiho finally stops sobbing and leaves Hojoon’s hoodie a tearful mess. Hojoon takes Jiho’s hands and gently kisses them, kisses the cuts on his fingers and a bruise on his wrist. “I love you too, Jiho, and you need to sleep.”

Jiho inhales, breath catching. “I-I can’t, I really can’t…”

“I can go home with you, if you just need someone to be with you,” Hojoon offers gently, cupping Jiho’s face in his hands. Jiho nods, trying and failing to hold back more tears, and Hojoon laughs, a little sad. “You’ve gotta give me directions, though, come on.”

--

Jiho wakes up in Hojoon’s arms, face pressed into his chest and legs tangled together with his. He tilts his head to look up and in turn, Hojoon looks down, smiling and raising a hand to push Jiho’s messy hair away from his face.

“I thought you’d gone into a coma or something, you’ve been asleep for forever.” Hojoon scoots a bit so he can kiss Jiho’s forehead. “Don’t stay up that long again, Sanggyun told me that you’d been up for almost three days, I think you can die from that.”

“You talked to them?” Jiho asks, voice thick with sleep, and Hojoon nods.

“Of course, I wasn’t going to lay here while I was in danger of pissing myself. So I went and found the bathroom and talked to a couple people on the way, Sanggyun was playing some video game so I was just like, ‘hey, where’s the damn bathroom,’ and he was like, ‘christ you’re the hooker aren’t you’.”

Jiho snorts, snuggling his face into Hojoon’s neck. “Did he like you?”

“Yeah, he told me I was cute and that you were totally gay for me, and I told him I already knew that.” Hojoon laughs, pulling Jiho a bit closer. “He seems like an embarrassing boy.”

“God, he is,” Jiho groans into Hojoon’s neck, causing Hojoon to laugh. “He’s a good friend, though.” Jiho shifts a bit, too hot to keep himself that close to Hojoon. “Shouldn’t you be leaving soon or something?”

“Man, fuck them, I have priorities.”

--

A few months later, Sangdo’s sect has a new member, and all Sanggyun can keep asking is, “You paid how much?”

But then one day, Sanggyun flops on the couch beside Jiho while Jiho is trying to complete a game he never finished and asks, “So how do you feel about that?”

“About what?” Jiho asks, thumbs slipping from button to button as he tries to get a kill combo.

“About Hojoon and Hyosang.”

Jiho’s eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

“Well, like… they keep kissing, and hugging, and they cuddle a lot.” Sanggyun shifts, watching as Jiho gets his combo up to forty.

“The way I look at it, Sanggyun, Hyosang needs it more than I do. It doesn’t bother me, Hojoon loves me, it’s just…” Jiho pauses as his character is killed, laying the controller down on the table when the ‘game over’ screen is displayed, “Hyosang needs all the help he can get. It’s amazing that he got attached to anyone other than Sangdo, so it doesn’t- it doesn’t bother me.”

Sanggyun nods, then moves onto more pressing matters, like, “I bet I can beat your combo.”

“Sure you can.”

--

Jiho can’t lie- he absolutely adores Byungjoo. He jumps at everything, cries frequently, and screams the first time he sees blood in the house (from a cut on Sanggyun’s finger, dripping onto the kitchen counter), and Jiho wants nothing more than to protect him.

He knows how Byungjoo hates being touched, and he’d gotten used to it with Hyosang’s slow recovery, so he asks. “Can I hold your hand?”

Byungjoo pauses for a second, then nods, a smile spreading across his face as he holds out his hand. Jiho grabs it, squeezing it tight, and after a few moments of sitting on the couch like that, Byungjoo leans against Jiho and lays his head on his shoulder.

There’s also Hojoon, occasionally asking Byungjoo if he can hold his hand and pet his hair and hug him, and Byungjoo always says yes, of course, mostly because Jiho gets the feeling that he’s honestly desperate for attention.

Jiho also gets the feeling that he and Hojoon are subtly trying to one-up each other, seeing who can love on Byungjoo more, make him feel safest and most cherished. But at the end of the day, it’s really Hojoon who Jiho loves the most, and he hopes it’s the same for Hojoon, too.

And on the flipside, Jiho thinks that Byungjoo loves both of them equally, wants to hang out with them and be some sort of add-on to their relationship, and prior to this Jiho probably would have hated it. But Byungjoo is so gentle, careful, asking if it’s okay and if he can do this or that and Jiho kind of wants him to be part of it, even if not completely romantic.

Above all he just wants Byungjoo to stop crying every night, he wants to stop waking up at three AM with Byungjoo curled in on himself, sobbing into his hands. Jiho knows he can’t replace whatever or whoever Byungjoo lost, maybe he and Hojoon combined can’t even replace that, but he wants to try.

--

Jiho has barely been working for a day when a short guy with bright green hair comes up and orders the most complicated thing.

“A grande mocha, extra sugar, no whipped cream, hazelnut creamer and a double vanilla shot. Oh, and the name’s Hojoon.” The guy says, barely looking up from his phone, and Jiho freezes.

“I- I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t quite catch that.” Jiho says slowly, and the guy sighs and repeats himself. Jiho goes to the back and hunts down Dongsung.

“This dude just ordered- ordered a thing.” Jiho says, pointing towards the front, and Dongsung raises an eyebrow.

“A thing?”

“It’s- a mocha! Extra sugar, creamer, weird shit.”

“Is it Hojoon?” Dongsung asks, and Jiho blanks.

“Uh- yeah!”

Dongsung laughs. “I’m sorry you got him, he orders the same thing every day though. I’ll make it for you, don’t worry. You can try again tomorrow.”

Jiho thanks him and returns to the front to take more orders before Dongsung is through mixing the coffee. Dongsung calls Jiho over to finish the order (only the vanilla shots are left) because he has to get cookies out of the oven, and Jiho complies. He then works out how to spell Hojoon’s name, eventually settling on “Heojun” and presenting it to the green haired man out front.

Hojoon looks at the name on the cup, then to Jiho. Then he laughs and says, “Give me a pen.”

Jiho pauses a bit before taking his pen out of his apron pocket and handing it to Hojoon. Hojoon sets his coffee down and grabs Jiho’s hand, writing “호준” on the back of Jiho’s hand.

“There. Try again tomorrow.” Hojoon says with a smile, and Jiho can’t help but smile back.

--

The following day, Hojoon comes in again, and Jiho looks at the residue of ink on his hand before decidedly spelling it wrong again. This time, he goes “Hojeun”, even though that doesn’t even make sense, and Hojoon doesn’t even ask for the pen this time. He takes it from Jiho’s pocket and writes it on Jiho’s hand, another “호준” below the residue of the first. Jiho can’t help but stare at it the rest of the day, smiling, and Dongsung notices.

“What’s up?” Dongsung asks, leaning over Jiho’s shoulder, and Jiho lets his hand fall to his side.

“Oh- nothing.”

Dongsung grabs Jiho’s hand and lifts it up to inspect it, laughing when he reads it. “Did you spell his name wrong?”

Jiho nods sheepishly, and Dongsung drops his hand.

“That’s cute.” Dongsung says in a sing-song voice as he walks away, and Jiho groans and covers his face.

True to what Dongsung told him, Hojoon comes in every day and orders the same thing. Jiho’s memorized it at the end of his first month at the cafe, so all Hojoon has to do is step up to the counter and Jiho’s already punching his order into the computer. And every time, Jiho makes sure to spell Hojoon’s name wrong, sometimes even going as far as to put an entirely different name on the cup. And, also every time, Hojoon writes his name on the back of Jiho’s hand.

Early the following month, Hojoon takes Jiho by surprise and asks when his lunch break is.

“Uh, noon I think?” Jiho says, scratching the back of his neck. “Why?”

“Cool, I’ll be back then.” Hojoon says, and Jiho stares at him as he walks away.

Despite his confusion, Jiho can’t help but glance anxiously at the clock every few minutes, waiting for his lunch break. Then, as soon as he sits down at a corner table with his lunch for the day, Hojoon walks in and flashes him a smile. He then orders his drink from one of the baristas still on-duty and goes to sit with Jiho.

“I told you I’d be back!” Hojoon says loudly, by way of greeting, and Jiho can’t help his smile.

“Yeah. Why, though?”

“Because I wanted to sit with you.” Hojoon replies, bumping his foot against Jiho’s leg under the table. “What are you eating?”

“It’s a turkey sandwich.” Jiho says, tilting it so that Hojoon can get a better view. Hojoon reaches over, rips a piece of it off, and pops it in his mouth.

“Pretty good, did you make it?” Hojoon asks while he’s still chewing, and Jiho shakes his head.

“No, my uh- my roommate did.”

“Oooh, tell me about him.”

Jiho shifts, pauses, and then slides Hojoon the rest of his sandwich. Hojoon takes it without question and Jiho smiles before speaking. “His name’s Byungjoo and he’s my age, he’s got a boyfriend named Hansol. He’s- he’s a dweeb.”

Hojoon laughs, setting Jiho’s- his sandwich down on the table. “Do you have a boyfriend too, then?”

“I- no. I’ve been single for years.” Jiho laughs nervously, looking away from Hojoon. “It’s just- I’m busy with college, and I’m just… not a lot of people like me.”

“I like you!” Hojoon says, almost offended, and Jiho pauses before smiling.

“Yeah, you’ve written your name on the back of my hand 30 times in the past month.”

“Well then,” Hojoon begins, leaning over and taking Jiho’s pen out of his apron pocket, “take this instead.” And then he writes something on the back of Jiho’s hand just as his name’s called for his order. He puts the pen on the table before rushing to get his coffee, and Jiho glances at his hand. It’s a phone number, and Jiho can honestly not remember the last time he’d been given someone else’s phone number, but it makes him feel oddly warm. He makes a point to enter the number right away, and he’s just finishing up the digits when Hojoon returns.

“That wasn’t the same.” Hojoon announces, setting his coffee down before sitting. “They spelled my name right, look.” He turns the cup so Jiho can see, and Jiho squints at it.

“Yeah, maybe you ought to start coming at noon, so you don’t get stuck with me.”

“Oh shut up, you know how to spell my name. You just choose not to, right?” Hojoon asks, taking a sip of his coffee and waggling his eyebrows.

Jiho snorts. “Yeah, I guess. It’s- it’s nice, people ask me at college why I have someone’s name all over my hand.” He slips his phone back into his pocket and smiles at Hojoon. “Now they’ll ask me if it’s the same Hojoon’s phone number, and I get to say yes.”

--

“Let’s go on a date.”

Jiho looks at Hojoon, raising an eyebrow in response.

“Like, today! After you get off work.” Hojoon continues, then when Jiho just raises his other eyebrow, he whines and grabs Jiho’s arm. “We can go somewhere nice, it’ll be fun.”

Jiho looks at him another few moments before looking down at where Hojoon’s hands are holding his wrist. Then he smiles and nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Hojoon grins and lets go of his wrist, walking off to sit at his usual table while he waits for his coffee. Once his name is called and he comes to collect it, he grabs Jiho’s wrist again and leans in a bit. “Wait outside for me, after your shift.” He says, and Jiho nods. Then Hojoon walks away with a smile and Jiho retreats to the back.

“Dongsung!” Jiho yells as soon as he reaches the kitchen and Dongsung seemingly materializes out of thin air.

“Yes, yes, what is it?” Dongsung asks, sounding panicked.

“Hojoon asked me out on a date.” Jiho whines, and Dongsung pauses for a moment before gripping Jiho’s shoulder.

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

Jiho stares at Dongsung. “What?”

Dongsung winks and walks away.

--

“... and then he says, ‘Hojoon! You should be a porn star!’ and I say, ‘no you idiot! I’m too pure to be in the porn business!’”

“Pure?” Jiho breaks in, taking a drink of his soda. “You don’t look too pure.”

“Are you trying to tell me I look like a slut, Jiho?” Hojoon asks, offended, and Jiho snorts.

“Nah. You look like you could be a slut if you wanted to be, though.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Hojoon says, sincere, and Jiho laughs.

A date with Hojoon turns out to be enjoyable, with Hojoon sharing tidbits about past partners and his family and what his life is like, and Jiho telling him about life with Byungjoo and college. Jiho thinks that his life is boring, Hojoon tells him to keep talking, so Jiho does.

The night ends with them parting ways outside the restaurant, and then with Hojoon running back and grabbing Jiho’s arm to pull him around. Jiho only has a moment to recognize that it’s Hojoon and not some attacker before Hojoon kisses him, briefly, and then runs back the way he came.

Jiho stands there for a long while before covering his face and almost giggling into his hands, before he almost runs home just so he can brag to Byungjoo.

--

Jiho just wants an after. There’s a before (calling Hojoon to make arrangements, buying cheap wine and dressing somewhat nicely because he always wants to make a good impression); there’s a during (sweaty skin and bed springs popping and “ah, Jiho-”); but there’s never an after. Instead of an after, Jiho gets to shower by himself and go to bed by himself and gets to think about what it’d feel like if Hojoon just- just stayed.

Byungjoo calls him stupid, because Jiho’s chasing after someone who doesn’t give a single shit about him. At least Byungjoo has a boyfriend that loves him, a boyfriend that takes him on dates and holds his hand and tells him he looks beautiful or handsome or whatever. Jiho can barely get Hojoon to talk to him outside of the bedroom.

Honestly, Jiho thinks he’s stupid too. But he wouldn’t tell Byungjoo that.

--

Jiho looks at Hojoon and he thinks, gorgeous. He thinks, wonderful, perfect, amazing, great. But he’s certain that when Hojoon looks at him, his only thought is money. Jiho told himself in the beginning that that was fine, that he actually kind of liked it. But, truth be told- he hated it. He wanted Hojoon to look at him and smile with warmth in his eyes, he wanted Hojoon’s fingers to close around his when he grabs his hand, he wanted- something else, something more than what Hojoon gives him.

But Jiho doesn’t say anything, because he just wants Hojoon to stay with him, even if it’s like this.

--

Tonight, Hojoon announces that he’s staying the night. It’s a night when Byungjoo’s decided to stay at Hansol’s for the night so it’s just Jiho (and Hojoon, now, since Jiho called him). Jiho tries to ignore the spark of excitement and instead shrugs, saying, “Fine,” and trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

It doesn’t bother Hojoon any, and he sets about finding something to eat. He asks Jiho to come help him cook and instead they end up making out in the kitchen, with Hojoon sitting on the counter, his legs around Jiho’s waist. Jiho presses against Hojoon’s crotch just so and Hojoon moans into Jiho’s mouth, lewd and wanton, and it takes only a few minutes for Jiho to have him on the kitchen table crying his name.

Jiho lets himself pretend, for just a moment, that Hojoon likes being around him beyond the provision of sex, money, or food. And when Hojoon falls asleep on the couch an hour or so later, Jiho carries him to his bed and tucks him in and pretends that this is a regular thing. He pretends that Hojoon will appreciate waking up in Jiho’s bed and appreciate the fact that Jiho didn’t leave him on the couch to get a crick in his neck.

In the end, Jiho ends up sitting up until 4 AM watching cooking shows and hugging a pillow to his chest. And he can’t help the ache in his chest.

--

Jiho falls asleep on the couch and, as expected, Hojoon is gone when he wakes up. He checks the time on his phone and groans, because it’s almost time for Byungjoo to get off of work and come home with stories about work and cakes and Hansol, always Hansol.

As usual, Byungjoo finishes with, “You should really get a job,” and Jiho responds, this time, with “Sure, why not.”

Thus, the next day, Jiho ends up at a McDonald’s talking to someone with a face and a name that sounds familiar. He places it halfway through the initial interview- he’s Jin Hyosang, a name that he’s seen in album credits and a voice he’s heard in tracks and on radio shows.

“Sorry if this is rude but- why do you work here?” Jiho asks, and Hyosang stops in the middle of his sentence, hands suspended in mid air (because he really likes talking with them).

“I- you recognize me then?” Hyosang asks, and Jiho nods. Hyosang laughs and shrugs. “I need life experience, I think. It’s better than being holed up in a studio all day, you know?”

Jiho nods again, and then he places the name again- Hojoon’s talked about a Hyosang before, a Hyosang that has enough money to buy him nice things and to pay his bills and why aren’t you more like him, Jiho?

He ends up getting the job and he’s never seen Byungjoo prouder of him, but he regrets it by the time his first break comes up. He ends up sitting in a bathroom stall, scrubbing at his eyes so that he doesn’t become a loser crying alone in a public bathroom. A few tears escape and he wipes them away, almost angry. He stays in the bathroom until the end of his break and he sees Hyosang eyeing him warily, because he’s the one in charge of training Jiho and thus has probably noticed the red marks around Jiho’s eyes, caused by him wiping just a little too hard.

On Jiho’s lunch break, he sits at one of the back tables reserved for employees and Hyosang comes to sit with him, asking him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Hyosang, I’m just fine.” Jiho says, as sarcastic as possible without it being too disrespectful. It’d be unbearable if he lost this job after one day.

“You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay.” Hyosang says, and Jiho wants to punch him for being so nice to him.

Eventually, halfway through his hamburger, Jiho says, “I- I like someone. But he doesn’t like me at all.”

Hyosang stays silent, but nods in an understanding way, so Jiho continues.

“I mean- I should have expected it, he’s kind of- he’s not mine. If that makes any sense.”

Hyosang nods again, and Jiho sighs. The rest of his break passes without another word from Hyosang and Jiho’s almost grateful. For the rest of the day, too, Hyosang only speaks with him to tell him if he’s prepared something wrong, or if he put too much salt on a batch of fries, or if he got an order incorrect. Once he gets off his shift, he sees that Byungjoo has texted him.

The text reads, “hey, did u invite hj over w/o telling me? bc hes kind of here”. Jiho stares at his phone a moment before replying, telling Byungjoo that no, he didn’t, and that he’d be there in a few minutes.

When he opens the door he finds Byungjoo on the couch, looking stricken. Jiho raises his eyebrows at him and Byungjoo points to the kitchen. Jiho walks into the kitchen, spotting Hojoon easily and grabbing his shoulders from behind. He spins him around and Hojoon looks shocked, a little scared, and Jiho falters until a smug smile comes onto Hojoon’s face.

“It’s about time, you didn’t tell me you got a job.” Hojoon says breezily, trying to escape Jiho’s grasp, but Jiho keeps him still.

“What do you want?” Jiho asks, and Hojoon shrugs.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Well- just save it. If you want money from me, you’re out of luck.” Jiho fumbles for something else to say, and Hojoon notices, because his smirk grows into a full-on smile.

“Look at you, trying to be mean to me. It’s not working.” Then, “Why do you like me so much? It’s not doing you any good.”

Jiho feels like punching Hojoon, or maybe punching himself. He resolves to step back and tries not to notice the victorious look in Hojoon’s eyes.

“Give it up, will you?” Hojoon says, quirking a brow. “It’s not going to change anything.”

“Can you shut up for three seconds?” Jiho asks, voice not as strong as he wanted it to be because, honestly, he’s on the verge of tears. “I know, Hojoon, I know. You don’t have to remind me, I know. Can you just leave?”

Hojoon stares at him for a moment before shrugging. “Alright. Your loss.” And then he really does leave, and Jiho hears the door shut as Hojoon leaves the apartment.

Jiho doesn’t cry until Byungjoo comes in and asks if he’s alright, and then Byungjoo doesn’t comfort him; instead Byungjoo gets into the freezer and shoves a tub of ice cream into Jiho’s hands.

They end up staying up way past an acceptable bedtime and watching old sitcoms on TV. Jiho would have rather gotten drunk instead of eating half a gallon of ice cream, but it’s better than nothing.

--

It takes a few weeks until Hojoon texts Jiho, and Jiho had honestly forgotten that he even had Hojoon’s number. The text reads, “do u want to meet up?” and Jiho replies with a simple, “no”. A few minutes later, Hojoon replies with “alright, so the coffee shop down the street at three?”, and Jiho sighs.

He goes anyway and Hojoon is sitting at a table towards the back, an untouched cup of coffee in front of him. He looks almost excited to see Jiho but Jiho maintains an air of- of something. Anger that he’d been repressing, or something like that.

“I wanted to- to just… tell you, okay?” Hojoon says, voice lifting at the end just enough to make it a question, and Jiho nods as he sits down.

“Alright, fine. Make it quick though, alright?” Jiho adds, mostly for appearances, and Hojoon nods.

“Okay, so, I just wanted to- uh. God.” Hojoon is more awkward than Jiho’s ever seen or heard him, and Jiho’s facade falters a bit because the blush springing up on Hojoon’s cheeks is so damn cute. “I- I feel bad, okay?” Hojoon eventually says, taking his glasses off so he can cover his face effectively. “It’s so- I’m shitty, I’m shitty. You’re cute but I can’t love you. Sorry.”

Jiho pauses a moment, picking his words carefully, before he says simply, “I know.”

Hojoon drops his hands to look at Jiho. “You know?”

Jiho nods. “I know you can’t love me. You’re- you’re busy.”

“I’m a whore,” Hojoon corrects, and Jiho sighs.

“Yeah, I guess you are. And,” Jiho adds, “even if you did decide to love someone, it wouldn’t be me.”

Hojoon doesn’t argue, so Jiho stands up. “Are we done here?” He asks, and Hojoon looks up at him.

“If you’re- if you’re dropping me, then- kiss me again.” Hojoon says, words tumbling out of his mouth, and Jiho dips down briefly to peck Hojoon’s lips. Then he leaves, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes.

--

Improper use of necromancy is the charge, they told Jiho. They had taken Jiho to see the body in the morgue, see the blackened burns still glowing purple and blue and the bloodshot, cold eyes of the deceased man, the man that this supposed witch had killed. Jiho kept his face even when he examined the body but couldn’t ignore the way his stomach rolled.

Jiho had never dealt with a necromancy-based case before. He’d seen people accused of offenses against the king or the high wizard, people who had harassed or violated a commoner or two, people who’d stolen someone’s sheep or fruit. He’d read all about it in school, when he was studying to be a judge, but-

Nothing could prepare him for this necromancer. When he’d heard the words thrown around (witch, slut, the like) he’d expected a female at the least. Maybe old, back crooked and fingernails broken and snaggly; maybe young, features soft and attractive. Instead, he got this short, bony man, with messy black hair and brown eyes that stared at Jiho like he wanted to skin him alive.

Jiho sits down opposite the man, setting his notes down on the table and clearing his throat. “I’ve come to-”

“Interview me, yeah.” The man says, and he sounds utterly bored, which is a complete contrast from what Jiho was expecting.

Jiho’s at a loss for words for a moment before he clears his throat again, nervous and awkward. He knows that there’s gloves on this man’s hands for a reason, to seal up his magic and prevent him from ripping Jiho apart- but still. “Okay, um.” Jiho opens his notebook up and squints at the things he’s written there in the month since he’d taken this case. “Jeon Hojoon- do you understand your offense?”

“Yeah, of course.” The man- Hojoon- replies, nonchalant. “I killed a guy that I shouldn’t have, in a way that I shouldn’t have. No problem.”

Jiho tries to ignore how Hojoon’s tone is bothering him and pushes onwards. “Alright. Do you have a motive for this murder?”

“He touched me when I told him not to. Honestly- I’m not trying to make excuses, but it was an accident.” Hojoon shrugs, looking at the wall behind Jiho. “I told him we were done, he paid me and it was over- but then he just had to grab me, and it was just- it was too easy.”

Jiho swallows, uncomfortable, but jots down a note beside the “Motive: Unknown” written in his notebook. “Alright, well, uh. I’ve been told to- to tell you that there’s no real way to lessen your punishment.”

“Hang me, don’t burn me.” Hojoon says, and Jiho looks up in surprise. “What? I know what they do to people like me, to witches.”

Jiho flips to a different page, where more case notes lie, scribbled hastily. “It says that they were only planning on putting you in prison for- for the rest of your life.”

“Oh. Well, cool then.” Hojoon tries to lean back in his chair, then frowns when he finds that it’s been bolted to the floor. “Oh come on, really? What am I going to do, throw the chair at you and kill you? Then what would I do?”

Jiho stares at him. “I- what?”

“You’re supposed to be the greatest judge in this kingdom, right?” Hojoon asks, and Jiho nods. “Well, you’re awful at it. I’m disappointed.”

Jiho frowns. “I do the best I can. You don’t have the- the right to tell me I’m awful.”

“You’re jittery, your hands are shaking, look!” Hojoon points, and Jiho lifts a hand away from the table to check. Indeed, it trembles, and Jiho sighs.

“Okay, fine. I’m- I’m not scared, just… wary.”

“Let me guess- you’ve only dealt with small town stuff, thefts and harassment and that stuff.” Hojoon leans forward, a smile on his face, and Jiho scoots his chair back almost unconsciously. Hojoon laughs. “You are so scared of me, I love it!”

“I am not scared!” Jiho almost yells, and Hojoon raises an eyebrow. Jiho takes a deep breath and repeats what he said, calmer now, and Hojoon laughs again.

“Alright, whatever. Are we done here? Are you going to lock me away, or do I get to hang in the square?”

Jiho pauses to stare at Hojoon, and then inhales. “I’ll discuss it with the jury. You’ll know by next week.” He stands up, feeling unsettled. After a brief look into Hojoon’s eyes, Jiho smiles. “You’re scared too, right?”

He can basically see Hojoon’s bravado breaking before his eyes, but Hojoon just huffs and turns his head away from Jiho. Jiho leaves the room, telling the guards outside that he’s done, and then he retreats to his quarters.

--

“So,” Sehyuk says, directed at Jiho, “what’s your stance?”

Jiho shifts, feeling the eyes of the other judges and jury members turning toward him. “I- he seems… almost innocent. Not of his crimes, obviously, but- according to him, it was self defense.”

“So you argue in his defense?” Sehyuk asks, nothing accusatory in his question, but Jiho still frowns.

“Not exactly, I’m- I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough, Judge Shin,” Sehyuk says, and Jiho groans into his hands because he knows. But he can’t forget the look in Hojoon’s eyes.

The jury meeting is adjourned with 5 votes in favor, 6 against, and they agree to meet the following day to discuss the final punishment. Jiho, instead of walking down to the pub with his friends who are also on the jury meeting, heads to the cell block. He grabs a metal chair from the front of the building and carries it with him, setting it down in front of the cell he was searching for and sitting in it.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Hojoon groans from inside the cell- apparently he’d been sleeping. “Why? It’s not going to matter.”

“I don’t care, I want to know.”Jiho replies resolutely, and Hojoon comes to stand at the bars, then sits in the chair in the corner when he sees Jiho’s own chair.

“See, this chair is bolted down too. I don’t know how I could use a chair to break charmed metal bars, but apparently they think I can.” Hojoon tells Jiho idly, then crosses his legs and smiles. “Ah, let’s see. What can I tell you…”

A few hours later, Jiho knows more than he ever needed to about this man, and his heart aches. He writes it all down as soon as he gets back to his quarters, prisoner visiting times having ended. He uses up all his ink in writing and has to request a maid to bring in more, and most people would have called it a waste- Jiho doesn’t care.

--

“Can you take those off?” Jiho asks in reference to Hojoon’s gloves, and Hojoon shakes his head. They’ve basically picked up where they left off the previous day, and Jiho even took the same chair from the front of the building.

“They’re charmed, I can’t take them off. Other people can, if they’ve got enough magic about them, I guess.” Hojoon wiggles his fingers, grinning. “You could try.”

“I wanted to try.” Jiho says, trying to sound nonchalant, but Hojoon snorts.

“You were terrified of me 3 days ago, what’s changed?”

Jiho hesitates, thinking over his answer, before he shrugs. “I have a jury meeting in an hour, it’d be useful if I’d done something stupid in regards to you.”

Hojoon laughs, then approaches the bars and sticks his hands through. Jiho stands and takes Hojoon’s hands in his, rubbing his fingertips against the velvet, and then he slides his fingers under one glove and pushes up. The glove slides, easy, and Jiho feels a swell of pride before he pulls it up and off. Jiho pauses to examine Hojoon’s hand, seeing that the telltale signs of necromancy have sprung up on his hands (prominent veins and purple splotches on his fingertips), then slots his fingers in-between Hojoon’s.

“This feels nice,” Hojoon says suddenly, hand squeezing Jiho’s. “I’ve had these gloves on since I got thrown in here, that’s two months.”

Jiho smiles in response, then slips the other glove off and gives Hojoon’s other hand the same treatment, same careful consideration and gentle holding.

“You know,” Jiho says, turning his attention from their hands to Hojoon’s face, “you’re older than me.”

“Really?” Hojoon asks, raising an eyebrow, and Jiho nods. Then Hojoon laughs, pulling a hand away to rub at his face. “Wow. You look older than me, though.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Jiho asks, mock offense in his voice, but he’s smiling too much to be convincing.

“I guess, wouldn’t it be nice if you were older so you could like… I don’t know, condescend me, tell me I’m just a stupid kid.”

Jiho shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re stupid, you were- you were trying to survive.”

Hojoon pauses, then smiles. “I think you should put the gloves back on, before a guard walks past and sees.”

Jiho nods, complying, but he still holds Hojoon’s hands even with a layer of velvet in-between.

--

“It’s a serious enough offense that hanging, or maybe even burning, would be a justifiable punishment.”

Sehyuk makes a face, waving his hand at the jury member speaking to him. “No it’s not, I’ve seen worse.”

“What is worse than this?” The same jury member asks, voice growing louder, and Sehyuk sighs.

“At least it was just another commoner. He wasn’t important, it’s not like anyone’s going to miss this man.”

“Nobody’s going to miss this necromancer either.” Another points out, and Sehyuk huffs.

“There’s no winning with you people.” He turns his head to Jiho, who’s been staring at his hands for the entire meeting. “Judge Shin! You’ve been spending time with the necromancer, what’s your thoughts?”

Jiho looks to Sehyuk, then back to his hands. “He’s 22, his parents are shepherds. His family needed money.”

“What are you getting at?” Sehyuk asks, leaning as if to get closer to Jiho even though he’s at the other end of the table.

“I’m- I’m trying to tell you what he told me.” Jiho says, and Sehyuk nods.

“Well then, go on. Every little bit helps.”

Despite the groans from around the table, Jiho does go on, telling them about how Hojoon had resorted to- “Favors,” Jiho says carefully, and those around the table groan again.

“So not only is he a necromancer and a murderer, but he’s a whore too?” Someone asks, and a few others chuckle.

“He’s not even a necromancer,” Jiho says, half to himself. “He studied it when he was younger- he didn’t mean to kill that man.”

“It doesn’t matter either way, Judge Shin,” Someone says loudly, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll hang him once the king’s birthday celebrations have passed.”

Sehyuk looks uncomfortable but dismisses anyway, informing them all that they’d meet again tomorrow to give everyone time to calm down. Jiho feels almost sick, the same way he did when he’d first looked at the corpse earlier in the month, but now it’s for a different reason.

--

“They’re hanging me?” Hojoon asks once Jiho’s done speaking, and Jiho nods. “Cool, at least I’m not going to be burned. Doesn’t that sound like an awful way to go?”

“But I- I don’t…” Jiho trails off, looking away.

“You don’t what?” Hojoon urges, sticking his hands through the bars and reaching for Jiho.

Jiho grabs Hojoon’s hands, turning his gaze back to him. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Aw, are you attached?” Hojoon teases, but there’s a soft smile on his face. Eventually, he says, “I don’t want to either. It- honestly, dying probably sucks either way. I’ve got stuff to do, I wanted to be a doctor. But instead I’m- you know.”

JIho nods so that Hojoon won’t have to say anything else, and Hojoon squeezes his hands.

“You could always steal me or something. I’m sure they’d probably kill you for that, and I’m also not sure how you’d do it, but- worth a shot.” Hojoon’s tone tells Jiho that he’s entirely joking, but to Jiho it sounds like a pretty good idea.

“I- we could.”

“What? There’s no point in throwing your life away for some stupid- for me.”

Jiho frowns, bringing Hojoon’s hands up to his face and placing them on his face. Hojoon makes a fist, tapping Jiho’s jaw with his knuckles, and Jiho smiles.

“You’re dumb.” Hojoon says, pulling his hands away and retreating away from the bars. “Go away, they’ll think you’re really planning something if you spend all your time with me. Go do judge stuff.”

“I don’t have judge stuff to do, though.” Jiho says, still smiling. “All I do is eat and sleep, honestly.”

“Don’t you have friends? Go spend time with them, they’re not going to die soon.”

Jiho’s smile falls but he leaves anyway with a wave and a soft ‘goodbye’, spoken and then returned.

--

Jiho attends the king’s celebratory banquet even though he doesn’t really want to, smiles and shakes hands and bows even though he’d really rather be with Hojoon. He sits at the table and thinks fondly of how Hojoon told him a story the other day, the story of how he apparently killed a dragon with only a rat carcass. Jiho severely doubts it, but he smiles when he remembers Hojoon as he recounted the story, arms waving in wild gestures and eyes bright.

Every time he thinks about Hojoon, his thoughts end in ‘but he’s dying next week’ or something along those lines, and it bothers him.

The day after the public banquet, there’s a more private one for all the king’s officials, and Jiho is obviously required to go because he’s on the judicial council. He feels the heavy stares and sour glances of the other judges who are on the jury and eventually excuses himself from the gathering to retreat to the balcony for some air and some escape.

The king follows, surprisingly, and waves in a greeting. Jiho rushes to bow, but the king waves a hand.

“King, what are you doing out here?” Jiho asks once he’s gathered himself.

“Hyunho, it’s Hyunho.” When Jiho stares blankly, the king laughs. “Did you not know that was my name?”

“Oh- no, I knew, but- I’ve never heard anyone call you that. It’s just… King… or King Park.”

“Well, call me Hyunho. And I’ll call you Jiho, because that’s your name.”

Jiho nods, and the ki- Hyunho pats his shoulder. “What’s the matter?” Hyunho asks, and Jiho shrugs.

“I’m- it’s dumb, you probably don’t want to hear.”

“I definitely want to hear.” Hyunho says, a smile on his face, and Jiho smiles back.

“It’s also probably an offense against the king if I tell you this.” Jiho says, voice half-teasing, and Hyunho laughs.

“My guards offend me every day, so I’m sure this is no different. Go for it.”

“Well, I- I’m sure you know about the necromancer.”

Hyunho snorts. “Of course, that’s all anyone talks about. What about him?”

Jiho struggles for a moment, trying to assemble his thoughts. “I- he’s very kind. A bit disagreeable, a little childish, but- pleasant.”

“Ah. So you’re attached?” Hyunho asks. There’s nothing sour in his tone, so Jiho nods. “That’s fine. I’m sure it’s happened before. What do you plan on doing?”

Jiho stares in confusion. “What?”

“Are you going to plead in his defense? Make an appeal for his innocence before it’s too late? The jury may have already decided, but the final hearing hasn’t been scheduled yet- it’s not too late to appeal. It’ll also drag out the process, he’ll remain alive for longer.” Hyunho stares out to the horizon, face and voice somber. “I have no clue if there’s a way to ensure he’ll remain alive, because they overreact in cases like these.”

“There’s been a case like this before?” Jiho asks, and Hyunho nods.

“It was a few years back, when I was first made king- a necromancer working in my council accidentally killed a commoner when the commoner tried to assault him. Necromantic magic is kind of- reactive, I suppose. In times of great stress it just… happens.” Hyunho sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “He was sentenced to death, burned in the square because they were sure he wouldn’t stay dead unless they burned him to ash.”

Jiho nods solemnly, leaning against the balcony railing. “That’s similar to Hojoon’s case, he- it was self defense, according to him.”

“I feel that you have to put a certain amount of trust into people in times like these.” Hyunho says, looking at Jiho. “You’ve got a big heart, I think. If I could without someone locking me in my bedchamber for the rest of my life, I’d go speak with Hojoon myself. I’ll support you anyway, though.”

“Oh- thank you so much.” Jiho says, and he really means it, feels like he could cry. Hyunho smiles wide and then declares that he needs to return to his guests before they get restless and start “eating all my rolls”. Jiho laughs as he leaves and then stares out to the horizon, where the forest begins, and thinks about running away with Hojoon.

--

“Judge Park,” Jiho says when he’s allowed entry into Sehyuk’s office, “I’d like to make an official appeal.”

Sehyuk looks up from the papers on his table, laying his feather pen aside. “Alright, come sit and tell me.”

Jiho complies, sitting into one of the cushy chairs and speaking. “At the banquet last night, Hyu- King Park gave me an idea.” He pauses to make sure Sehyuk is interested, then continues. “He told me that I could- I could make an appeal for Hojoon’s innocence, as long as it was before the final hearing.”

“You can indeed,” Sehyuk says, already gathering papers, “but I’m not sure how much good it will do.”

“I want to try anyway.” Jiho says firmly, and Sehyuk nods and writes up forms, handing them to Jiho for him to fill out.

“I’ll take them up to the presiding judge in the morning, since she’s busy at the moment.”

Jiho pauses, pen hovering over the paper. “It’s a woman?”

Sehyuk laughs shortly. “You didn’t know that?”

Jiho shakes his head. “I thought- I thought Judge Kim was a man.”

“No. Her name is Junhee, she’s very much a woman. She’s kind, and if the idea was given to you by King Park she may be more open to the appeal.”

Jiho nods in acknowledgement, returning to his task of filling out personal information and appeal details. By the time he’s done, the sun’s already setting and he hurries out of Sehyuk’s office with rushed goodbyes and thank yous. He knows that Sehyuk is probably confused, but oh well.

The guard at the front of the prison tells Jiho that visiting time is almost over but he heads back anyway, not bothering to take a chair and instead sitting in the floor.

Hojoon rolls out of his bed and scoots over to the bars, mimicking Jiho’s position and smiling. “I thought you weren’t coming today.”

“I was busy, I’m sorry.” Jiho says, sincere, and Hojoon laughs and puts a hand through the bar to touch Jiho’s cheek.

“It’s fine, don’t sound so sad. What were you busy with?”

“I put in an appeal. The king told me it was worth a shot.”

Hojoon raises his eyebrows. “King Park told you to appeal? For me?”

“Yeah. He even said that he’d come visit you if he could.”

“Well. Doesn’t that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?” Hojoon pulls his hand away and puts his back to the wall, stretching his legs out and sighing. “It is worth a shot, I guess. Thanks.”

Jiho smiles, reaching in to grab the hand closest to him. “It’s not a problem, I don’t want you to die. You didn’t- you didn’t mean to, right?”

Hojoon turns his head and smiles fondly, and Jiho could swear that his heart skipped a beat. “I’ve told you like 5 times, it was self defense. He touched me here,” Hojoon pauses to tap the inside of his thigh, “when I told him not to, and it just kind of happened.”

Jiho nods, pulling the glove off of Hojoon’s hand and holding it tightly. “If this doesn’t work, I’m- I won’t give up.”

Hojoon squeezes his hand. “I appreciate the effort, but I don’t think you could do much more if this appeal thing fails.” Then he grins and turns so he’s facing Jiho, legs folded beneath him. “Stealing is still an option.”

Jiho laughs. “Yeah, I’ll definitely steal you if it doesn’t work.”

The thing is that, even though he’s laughing, Jiho is serious.

--

Judge Kim requests Jiho to come to her office the following day and he obliges, of course. She’s small in stature and has a small face and short hair but her voice is commanding, and she honestly seems more well suited to be an army commander, even though that’s a solely male profession. She’s also kind, as Hyunho had said, and understanding.

She starts out with, “You look very nice today,” then moves onto, “Why are you so invested in this case?”

“I- I have no clue, honestly.” Jiho says, raking a hand through his hair. “I just- he doesn’t deserve this.”

She nods, looking through Jiho’s form papers. “Well, from the way it sounds, you’re motivated by personal feelings. Don’t get me wrong, that’s fine, it’s fine, I’m just- it could put you in danger of being removed from the council.”

Jiho pauses, weighing her words, before nodding. “Yeah, I know. But I, I promised.”

She makes a noise of acknowledgement. “I understand. I will try my absolute best- it’s not just me, you know, there’s two others… they have to agree also. If they don’t, there’s nothing else I can do.”

“That’s fine. I appreciate it anyway.”

Judge K- Junhee smiles widely, and Jiho returns it, exiting her office with a bow and a thank you.

--

The appeal falls just short and Jiho feels like dying. Instead he cries with his forehead resting against the cold metal of the cell bars and Hojoon pets his hair, hands bare and warm.

“Don’t cry so much, why are you crying?” Hojoon asks, even though his voice is shaking as much as his hands. “I figured it wouldn’t work, I was ready for it, stop crying.”

Jiho lifts his head and he’s sure he looks like a mess, but Hojoon wipes at his face with his hands. “You’re lying to me,” Jiho moans, sniffing in a vain attempt to keep snot from running out of his nose, “you were counting on it- you trusted me…”

“Oh, shut up,” Hojoon says, turning his head so he can wipe his cheek with his shoulder. “You tried, that’s all you could do. I wasn’t expecting more.”

Jiho snivels, lifting a hand to wipe at his face and only succeeding in getting the sleeve of his overcoat smeared with snot and tears.

“God, you look so pitiful.” Hojoon says, smiling slightly, and Jiho can’t help but smile back. “I’d hug you but I can’t- can you get your face closer?”

Jiho fairly shoves his face between the bars and Hojoon does the same, awkwardly bumping his lips against Jiho’s. It’s uncomfortable and their noses press together but Jiho still-

“Did you just giggle?” Hojoon asks, and Jiho covers his face. Hojoon laughs, shoving at Jiho’s shoulder. “That’s so dumb, don’t do that again.”

Jiho nods, exaggerated to let Hojoon know he’s joking, and Hojoon shoves him again. In the back of his mind, he thinks: time for Plan B.

--

Plan B is, of course, whatever he’s trying to do here. But rope is thick and guards have sharp hearing and it’s too close, too close. Hojoon trips over his own feet and Jiho almost drags him out of the building, thanking every god in existence that he managed to pick the exit situated at the rear of the government building.

He hears yells from behind them as they run across the street and through the woods, minutes or maybe hours, and then-

“That’s the border,” Hojoon wheezes from behind Jiho, and Jiho turns his head slightly so Hojoon can see him nod. “Are you an idiot? We can’t do that, they’ll kill us! The border patrol will find us and kill us!”

“Calm down!” Jiho yells, a little too forcefully, but it gets Hojoon to shut up. They only stop running once they’ve escaped the woods, which Jiho knows end a few feet within the border to the Lion Kingdom, and there’s no guards posted at this end of the border that he can see. They reach a downhill slope and Jiho slips, tumbling down the hill and causing Hojoon to cackle as he hurries down the slope after him. Jiho stares up at the sky and tries to catch his breath and thinks, despite it all, Hojoon can still laugh like that.

Hojoon flops on top of him once he reaches the bottom and Jiho makes an ‘oof’ sound. And just as soon as he’s caught his breath, Hojoon kisses it right out of him.

--

They’re told, “My name is Jinye,” and, “Solbin is asleep right now, you can meet her at dinner time.” Jiho doesn’t argue, of course, because Jinye is kind and smiles like she could make flowers grow.

“So, what are your names?” Jinye asks, smoothing her skirts absently, and Hojoon replies before Jiho can.

“I’m Hojoon, and this is Jiho.”

Jiho gives Hojoon a look that says no, no, no, but Jinye just smiles again, apparently oblivious.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” She says, then starts to change the topic, but Hojoon interrupts.

“Wait- so you don’t know who I am?”

Jinye looks almost startled, eyebrows raised and mouth half open. “Uh, no, the name doesn’t ring a bell and I’ve never seen your face. Is there a reason I should?”

“Well, uh. A few weeks ago, I was almost hanged for necromancy, so. I thought that was kind of big news?” Hojoon ends his almost-question with a shrug, and Jinye seems a bit surprised.

“No, I haven’t heard anything about that. But then again,” She looks around with a laugh, “I rarely ever go into town, and I don’t talk to anyone but Solbin. I’m a bit behind, I guess.”

Hojoon smiles at her, wide and trusting, and Jiho exhales.

“But you,” Jinye says suddenly, looking at Jiho, “I think I’ve seen your face before- you’re on the judicial council in the Song Kingdom, right?” When Jiho nods, Jinye smiles again. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t sell you out or anything. Though, if you want to live here permanently, you’ll have to file with the local courts… but we won’t get in trouble for housing you.”

Jiho feels all the weight of the past few weeks, all the dread and fear and worry, roll off of him in one smile and sigh. “Thank you so much, Jinye, really. I- I can pay you, if you’d like-”

“No, no!” Jinye exclaims, putting a hand to her chest. “You can’t do that, I’m- I don’t need payment for being nice.”

The conversation trickles off into brief one-liners until a woman descends from upstairs, rubbing at her eyes and wrapped in a puffy blanket. Jinye smiles at her and she comes to sit at the table with them, still looking half asleep.

“Good afternoon,” the newcomer says eventually, directed at Jiho and Hojoon, and they return the sentiment. After brief introductions, they find that she’s the Solbin that Jinye mentioned earlier. When she asks what brings them here, Hojoon recounts their past few weeks, and Solbin acknowledges with a small, “wow,” and raised eyebrows.

Shortly afterwards, Jinye sets about cooking, and Solbin warns in a whisper that Jinye’s cooking is subpar. It turns out to be possibly the most mediocre pot of soup that Jiho’s ever encountered in his life, but he still enjoys it because it’s the first real food he’s had in almost an entire month. Later, Jinye shows them the bedroom they’ll be staying in and apologizes for the single bed and Hojoon whispers something to her that makes her cover her face, which leads to Jiho shoving him playfully. And when Jiho flops onto the bed and stares up at the white ceiling, he thinks that maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

--

The following morning, Hojoon lays on Jiho so that Jiho will stay in bed, and Jiho laughs and puts his arms around Hojoon. After a few minutes of nothing but the sounds of quiet breathing and birds singing outside, Hojoon’s breath warm against Jiho’s neck and his fingernails scraping at a scab on Jiho’s arm, Hojoon whispers in Jiho’s ear: “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jiho asks, turning his head so he can kiss Hojoon’s cheek.

“You’ve basically… I don’t know, thrown your life away, just for me.” Hojoon scoots a bit so he can lay his head on Jiho’s chest, and Jiho pets his hair. “It’s dumb- you’re dumb. You’re never going to be able to go back, I’ve ruined everything for you.”

“I’ve ruined everything for myself, Hojoon.” Jiho says, matter-of-fact, and Hojoon whines. “I could have just let you die, you know. But I- I liked you too well.”

“You’re just stupid.” Hojoon says, but he moves to kiss Jiho anyway.

“I’m glad I threw my life away,” Jiho says, pausing to kiss Hojoon once more, “because it’s worth it for this.”

“This?” Hojoon repeats, glancing around the near-empty bedroom. “A cold room in a cold house with two women who found us in their barley field.”

Jiho laughs. “Better than nothing, right?”

Hojoon makes a show of thinking about it, then laughs and nods. “Yeah. Better than nothing.”