Archive of Our Own

Fairies were known as magical creatures. Seonghwa didn’t have to dress up like a fairy to put Hongjoong under a spell, but the day he did, Hongjoong should have known he was forever trapped in one, regardless.

Discrimination was nothing new in Hongjoong’s life. The jeers, the whispered insults, the declarations of being destined for Hell – all of it came with identifying as a queer person in present-time Korea. Hongjoong tried to ignore it and live his life in a way that fulfilled him. One such way was finding his people, who would love him unconditionally. Which was how he found himself in a small group of other gays on his college campus.

One of those was Park Seonghwa, who Hongjoong had harbored a major crush on practically since laying eyes on him. Hongjoong didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t have a crush on Seonghwa immediately.

The man was gorgeous.

Factor in how incredibly sweet, diligent, caring, and funny he was after getting to know him, and Hongjoong knew he was at the point of no return.

Even so, Hongjoong was never good at expressing his own emotions. He shied away from physical touch. He was awkward when giving compliments and hated to become a burden on anyone. He also really, really loved his group of friends and the thought of venturing into something more than friends with Seonghwa when it could crash and burn and create an awkward hole in the group was more than a little terrifying.

So he did nothing about his little crush but bury it way down deep and enjoyed the friendly bond he had with Seonghwa.

It had worked for years.

But now that resolve is crumbling, turning into ash before his very eyes, because it’s Halloween and Seonghwa is wearing an actual dress, that he looks devastatingly attractive in, all because some homophobic jerk decided to call him and Wooyoung fairies in passing.

Wooyoung was upset by it, even if he tried not to show it, and despite Seonghwa’s soft nature, he is fiercely proud and protective – like a mother’s instinct. He decided to make a statement by proudly dressing as a fairy for Halloween.

And he went all out.

There’s iridescent glitter shining in his long raven hair and dotting his cheeks. The dress looks like the forest itself, a mix of dark and light greens, tight against Seonghwa’s sun-kissed skin. There are cut-outs swirling down the dress in thin strips, giving glimpses of that skin along his chest and waist behind criss-crossed strings. The dress cuts off mid-thigh, asymmetrical pieces of fabric similar to Tinkerbell’s outfit hanging down. Vines with tiny leaves spiral down his legs and disappear into two-inch, heeled, dark green boots. On his back are a pair of lighter green fairy wings that glimmer in the light.

Hongjoong had a heads up. Seonghwa let the whole group know what he would be showing up as when he and Wooyoung walked into the main campus party in the campus square.

Even knowing didn’t prepare him in the slightest.

There are cheers and compliments and playful catcalls surrounding him as Seonghwa and Wooyoung walk closer. Wooyoung is gesturing toward Seonghwa with wide arms, practically showing him off like a Vanna White, and Seonghwa looks pleased with himself, if not a tad bashful.

Hongjoong only realizes he’s squeezing his solo cup a little too hard when some of his drink sloshes over the side and dribbles on his hand. He hastily grabs a napkin from a nearby table and soaks up the mess, thankful that Seonghwa has taken all the eyes away from himself.

“You look hot, hyung,” Yunho says with a grin, to which Mingi starts barking. Jongho lays a hand on Mingi’s shoulder.

“Alright, we don’t want everyone’s attention,” Jongho laughs.

“Isn’t that kind of the point, though? Seonghwa is making a statement,” Yeosang reminds them.

“This is actually good quality. Where did you buy this from?” San asks, fingertips brushing over the velvety material at Seonghwa’s waist. Hongjoong shakes off the jealousy he feels over San’s hands there.

“It was actually on one of those lingerie websites,” Wooyoung says, his eyebrows jumping, which sparks another round of laughter and questions. Hongjoong takes a sip of his drink, the alcohol stinging his throat, and tears his gaze away from Seonghwa to glance at their surroundings.

The entire square is decorated and lit up. Food trucks line the edges, and hastily set-up carnival booths made by students trying to earn a little money line the sidewalks. There’s quite a crowd of people in various costumes, from full-body suits to skimpy little things, and Hongjoong definitely notices some stares in their general direction. Whether it’s because their bunch is loud or because Seonghwa looks like a runway model, or both, he’s not sure.

Green fills his vision and Hongjoong snaps his eyes onto the person, Seonghwa, who settles himself beside Hongjoong with a smile.

“Mine is six pages,” Seonghwa says. Hongjoong knows immediately what he’s talking about – the essay they’re writing for their common humanities class.

“I’m on page eight,” Hongjoong replies with a smug grin, finding the way Seonghwa’s smile falls and twists into an adorable pout.

“You have to help me with mine. I feel like I’ve run out of material,” Seonghwa whines.

“We can’t use all of the same sources. Professor Krueg already knows we’re friends,” Hongjoong points out. He then nods his head toward Seonghwa’s get-up. “You’re a fairy. Do some kind of magic and bam, ten pages.”

The corners of Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he laughs.

“You’re a pirate. Go steal some sources for me, Joong,” Seonghwa replies, gently knocking their arms together. He then seems to notice the drink in Hongjoong’s hand. “What’s this? Is it good?”

“Just some jungle juice from over there,” Hongjoong says, gesturing toward another area of the square. Seonghwa doesn’t even look, instead, taking the drink from Hongjoong’s hand and taking a sip. “Speaking of stealing.”

Seonghwa smacks his lips and Hongjoong is distracted by the way that bottom lip is now wet.

“It’s just one drink, baby,” Seonghwa snarks. Hongjoong feels his face warm. He knows Seonghwa is calling him a child, but in his own desperate way, it sounds like a pet name. He takes another drink to hide his warm face in the cup. He refuses to let himself linger on the whole indirect kiss idea, and doesn’t even get the chance because Seonghwa’s hand is suddenly on the lapels of his jacket. “You made this yourself, didn’t you?”

Seonghwa’s face is so much closer because he leaned down to grab at the lapels. Hongjoong’s gaze traces the way Seonghwa’s dark hair brushes against his glittered cheeks.

“Are you saying you can tell it’s handmade?” Hongjoong asks. It comes out steady, thankfully, if not a little lower than he’d intended.

“Not in a bad way. It’s very on-brand for you,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong is pretty sure Seonghwa has also lowered his voice, as if they are in a bubble together and not in the middle of a crowded campus square on Halloween night. Seonghwa pulls his hand away, but not before his fingertip brushes the skin of Hongjoong’s collarbone, and Hongjoong represses a shiver and, worse yet, the urge to grab his hand and bring it back. The expression on his face must come off in a certain way, though, because Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Take the compliment, Hongjoong.”

“Fine. Thank you,” Hongjoong manages, because if Seonghwa wants to think Hongjoong’s awkwardness is because of his inability to accept compliments and not because there’s a beautiful boy leaning close into his space, that works in his favor.

“Hwa!” Wooyoung’s voice comes, sudden and loud. It’s like the bubble around them pops as Wooyoung launches himself at Seonghwa, wrapping arms around his shoulders with a look of excitement on his face. “Come with me to get my face painted!”

Seonghwa looks exasperated, but fond, and shoots Hongjoong one last look before letting himself be dragged away. Hongjoong allows himself to watch the edge of the dress sway against Seonghwa’s backside as they walk away for a moment before taking another drink.

Despite so many things to do in the courtyard, their friend group doesn’t spend more than an hour there before deciding it’d be more fun to just hang out together at a house. San is one of the only members of their group to actually live in a house, where he shares rent with two other college kids, so they pile in his room. It’s pretty full with the eight of them in there, but they know it’d be nearly impossible to pack them all into a dorm room, so they make the most of it.

San has a king-sized bed, but he also pulls out a queen-size air mattress and sits it down on the floor at the foot of the bed. They all cram and tetris themselves on both beds to watch a horror movie, though really, only bits and pieces of the movie are actually paid attention to as they chat, eat candy, and scroll on their phones.

Hongjoong has managed to snag the middle backboard of the king bed, with Seonghwa on his right side and Mingi on his left. There were jokes of how tiny he looked between them and he threw a pillow at Wooyoung’s face for it. Jongho and Yeosang are lying sideways on the king and San, Yunho, and Wooyoung have taken the air mattress.

It’s nearing three in the morning when Hongjoong hears Mingi snoring next to him. He turns to see the man’s head tilted back, mouth open and eyes shut. He elbows Seonghwa, who pokes Yeosang, who taps Yunho, who grins devilishly and hefts himself off the air mattress to go find a black marker. They manage to hold back their snickers as Yunho draws whiskers on him, and is in the middle of drawing a dick on his forehead when Mingi awakens. There is laughter and chaos as Mingi shoves Yunho and races for the bathroom to wash it off.

Hongjoong takes advantage of the free space beside him to stretch his legs, and then regards Seonghwa to his right.

“Move up a bit,” Hongjoong says. Seonghwa blinks at him and doesn’t question it, scooting forward. Hongjoong immediately takes advantage of the situation, lying sideways, stretching out along the length of the headboard. He makes an exaggerated ‘aahh’ sound to show how comfy he is, and Seonghwa catches on.

“You just stole my spot,” Seonghwa pouts, no longer having a headboard to rest against. Hongjoong smirks up at him.

“You trust too easily,” Hongjoong tuts.

“Excuse me for being a good friend.”

“Exactly. You’re the best friend, letting me have your spot.”

“Little shit. You owe me.”

“Mhm, sure.”

“I’m cashing in right now,” Seonghwa announces, and suddenly, he’s moving, lying down right next to Hongjoong and scooting ridiculously close. Hongjoong tenses, trying to school his expression as Seonghwa’s body presses nearly flush against his own, arms wrapping around Hongjoong’s middle.

“What-” Hongjoong sputters, hovering his arm that he’d moved up to allow Seonghwa to slip in close awkwardly in the air. Seonghwa’s eyes are wide and innocent and way too close, but the grin on his lips is mischievous.

“You owe me cuddles now,” Seonghwa explains, like it’s a given, like it’s perfectly acceptable to press your body against your best friend while in a sexy little dress-

Hongjoong notices the dress has ridden up in Seonghwa’s movements, dangerously high on his thigh. He could be flashing his ass at the rest of their friends for all he knew-

Hongjoong reaches for the edge of the dress and takes hold of it, dragging it down Seonghwa’s outer thigh into a more decent position. There’s a light intake of breath, or at least that’s what Hongjoong thinks he hears, making his gaze snap back to Seonghwa’s face. Seonghwa is staring at him, face pressed against the sheets of the mattress and hair wild, with an expression Hongjoong can’t quite name, but it sends heat into his lower belly. Then, he realizes his hand is still resting on Seonghwa’s hip, two fingers underneath the fabric and lying right on Seonghwa’s skin, and he slides his hand away, once again hovering it awkwardly in the air between them.

“Um. The dress was riding up,” Hongjoong is quick to explain, the heat now traveling to his face. Seonghwa blinks and then smiles.

“Such a gentleman,” Seonghwa cooes, and Hongjoong feels just a little faint.

“If you two fall asleep, you may suffer the same fate,” Yeosang comments. Hongjoong can see Yeosang and, well, all their other friends grinning at them from behind Seonghwa’s back. He tries to glare at them. Jongho leans forward and grabs Hongjoong’s hand, still hovering, and resolutely presses it down on Seonghwa’s waist.

“Give him proper cuddles, Hongjoong,” Jongho says teasingly.

“Thank you, Jongho,” Seonghwa says sweetly. Hongjoong wants to stuff his face in a pillow.

“Hey but they look really comfy. Sannie, cuddle with me!” Wooyoung’s voice is heard from the foot of the bed. There’s a whoosh and a thump, along with a muffled protest from San, and Jongho and Yeosang are laughing as Yunho and Mingi walk back into the room.

“They actually do look comfy, though. Maybe we should try to get some sleep tonight,” Yeosang comments.

“Give me my pillow back,” Hongjoong says.

“But you gave it to me!” Wooyoung protests.

“I threw it at your face because you’re size-ist.”

“Size-ist?!”

After a round of laughter and prods at the made-up word, Hongjoong does get his pillow back.

“Up,” Hongjoong whispers to Seonghwa, nudging his head with the pillow. Seonghwa stubbornly keeps his head down against the mattress.

“The last time I listened to you, my spot was stolen,” Seonghwa says dubiously. Hongjoong chuckles.

“Do you want a pillow or not? You’re neck will hurt tomorrow morning,” Hongjoong claims. Seonghwa stares at him, considering, before finally lifting his head. Hongjoong slips the pillow under them both. Yeosang lies down next to Seonghwa, back to back, and while trying to fit several grown men in a bed, pushes Seonghwa even closer into Hongjoong. Hongjoong bites the inside of his lip and slots their legs together, throwing his arm all the way around Seonghwa’s waist.

“Sorry,” Seonghwa mumbles as someone turns the light out. “You may have glitter all over your costume tomorrow.”

Hongjoong huffs a laugh.

“So I’ll be a fabulous pirate. Even better,” Hongjoong says, and he can feel Seonghwa’s body quake with giggles. It’s a precious sound and Hongjoong clings to it in his sleepy state. He closes his eyes, feeling the world quiet and still around him, feeling Seonghwa’s solid warmth pressing against him, and he lets himself pretend that it’s truly his.

The thought brings peaceful dreams. Or, at least, Hongjoong thinks it does. When he stirs, he can’t quite remember what he was dreaming about. It’s still dark in the room. He moves carefully to see the bedside clock. Registering 4:32am, he sighs at the fact it’s only been about an hour. His bladder is protesting and he realizes that must be the reason he woke up. Seonghwa is still a gentle weight in his arms. He groans, not wanting to leave the comfort of the bed, but knowing he needs to.

As carefully as possible, he tries to extract himself from Seonghwa’s hold. It’s not careful enough, because Hongjoong can feel Seonghwa stir on his own.

“Sorry. I need to use the restroom,” Hongjoong whispers. Seonghwa hums something soft, straightening his legs so Hongjoong can more easily move. Hongjoong mourns the loss as he sits up, slowly scooting himself to the edge of the bed. He nearly trips twice and bumps into something once, but he finally manages to find the door in the dark and make his way out of the room.

He carefully makes his way down the stairs, using the pilot light in the kitchen as his guide, and walks into the bathroom. If he’s honest with himself, there’s probably another bathroom upstairs, but in the few times he’s been to San’s house, this is the only one he’s used, so he goes to what’s familiar.

After relieving his bladder, he washes his hands in the sink, looking up at the mirror. His rusty orange hair is a bit of a mess and he wonders where his hat ended up. The black eyeliner he lined beneath his eyes is still there, just a little smudged, and he touches it up even though he’ll be going right back to bed. He’s exceedingly happy that he spent some extra money on the good stuff, least he look like a raccoon.

A glint in the light makes him pause. He moves again and realizes there are specks of glitter on his face and shirt. The sight makes him smile, but then he pauses again.

When he climbs back into bed, would it be weird to wrap his arms around Seonghwa again? Should he?

The thought plagues him as he dries his hands.

He needs to do a double-take when, upon exiting the bathroom, he sees the man of his thoughts leaning against the kitchen counter with a container in his hands.

“.. what are you doing?” Hongjoong asks quietly, glancing around to see if they are alone. Hongjoong doesn’t even know if San’s roommates are home or not.

“I’m about to show you something super top secret,” Seonghwa says conspiratorially, wrapping his hands tighter around the container in his arms. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow.

“In San’s kitchen at four-forty in the morning?” Hongjoong asks incredulously.

“Precisely because it’s San’s kitchen,” Seonghwa answers, making a show of peeling off the lid of the container and holding it up to the light. Hongjoong recognizes the cookies in an instant.

“His mother’s cookies?!” Hongjoong hisses, growing closer as if he’s hallucinating. Twice a year, San’s fraternity hosted a bake sale, which his mother would bake cookies for. They are absolutely delicious and sold out immediately every single time. Their friends begged San to have his mom bake special batches for them, but San only did so on special occasions. There were rumors that San kept a special batch of them for himself at all times, but San would never verify that claim. Now, here they were, in Seonghwa’s arms. “How?!”

“He told me where he keeps them,” Seonghwa says, smug, taking one out.

“What is this special treatment?” Hongjoong mumbles.

“Eh, I kind of blackmailed him.”

“Blackmailed?”

Seonghwa chuckles around the bite of cookie he takes and Hongjoong knows he’s not going to get any more out of him than that.

“Take one,” Seonghwa says, pressing the container closer. Even though Hongjoong knows just how good the cookies are, his stomach immediately protests the notion. All the candy from earlier still sits in his gut.

“Sorry, I’ll have to pass right now. But you can sneak me one later if you feel bold,” Hongjoong says. Seonghwa’s mouth twists into a frown.

“I go out of my way to share this deep, dark secret with you and you won’t even have a cookie?” Seonghwa asks with a pout. He holds out the cookie he already took a bite out of. “At least one bite?”

Hongjoong stares at the bite in the cookie, and then leans forward to take a small bite, if only to turn Seonghwa’s frown upside down. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that’s the second indirect kiss they’ve shared in the past twenty-four hours.

“Now you need to turn away so I can hide these in their hiding spot again,” Seonghwa says. Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told, turning his back to Seonghwa and wiping the stray crumbs from his lips. There’s movement behind him, both a drawer and a cabinet opening, and Hongjoong wonders if Seonghwa is going through the effort of trying to confuse him so he doesn’t know where the cookies are hidden.

“If you were going to tell me about the cookies anyway, I don’t know why I can’t know where they’re at,” Hongjoong says. He looks when he feels Seonghwa’s presence beside him.

“This way, I still have the power,” Seonghwa grins.

“Blackmail, power, who is this person who’s taken over my sweet Seonghwa?” Hongjoong jests, not surprised at the little shove he gets. There’s a momentary lull in the conversation afterwards and Hongjoong takes it as a signal to go back up to bed. “Do you want me to go first, or do you want to? It’s hard to see.”

Seonghwa glances up at the stairs and then slides his gaze toward the living room.

“… um. Why don’t we stay down here?” Seonghwa suggests. It’s almost, shy, the way he cups his hands behind his back and looks at Hongjoong as if he’s searching for something. “I mean, we’ll probably wake the others up if we go stumbling back into the room.”

Hongjoong agrees.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” Hongjoong asks. They both make their way into the living room.

“I am, but there’s a couch here. We can just lie down on it,” Seonghwa suggests. The pilot light spills in from the kitchen, but it’s only enough light to accentuate the shapes of the furniture around them.

“Both of us?” Hongjoong asks, because, while it’s possible, the couch is small. They could only do that if-

“You don’t get out of cuddles just because you had to use the restroom,” Seonghwa teases, moving passed Hongjoong to lie down on the couch. He squishes himself into the back of the couch. “I get this side this time, though.”

Hongjoong knows Seonghwa is referring to the fact Hongjoong took his spot and claimed the headboard in the bed. He registers it, but it’s suddenly hard to concentrate when his heart is pounding.

Cuddling with Seonghwa in a room full of their friends is one thing.

Cuddling Seonghwa, alone? Still wearing that damned dress?

“You’re planning on letting me roll off the couch,” Hongjoong says. It’s supposed to be accusing, but it comes out weak.

“I won’t let you fall, Joong,” Seonghwa giggles. He stretches out a hand and makes a grabbing motion, and it does several things to Hongjoong’s poor heart.

“We’ve really got to work on this whole ‘Seonghwa gets special treatment’ thing,” Hongjoong jokes, though there is definite truth behind the words. He hesitates a moment longer, letting the image of Seonghwa beckoning him closer burn into his brain, before shuffling onto the couch.

“Hm, no, I don’t think we do,” Seonghwa says sweetly, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s middle and pulling him close. Their legs slot together again, but on the small couch, they’re even closer, every inch of Hongjoong’s body pressed against Seonghwa’s. Hongjoong tries his best to even his breaths and hopes Seonghwa doesn’t comment on his rabbiting heartbeat.

“Of course you would say that,” Hongjoong mumbles, his hand settling on Seonghwa’s waist. Of course, a finger happens to press against one of the cut-outs of the costume, and Hongjoong’s eyes close at the skin-to-skin contact. Seonghwa’s laughter brings him out of his inner turmoil.

“You’re so tense,” Seonghwa notices.

“You try being one centimeter away from falling off the couch,” Hongjoong deflects.

“Baby,” Seonghwa teases, again, and Hongjoong feels his face flush hot.

It’s an insult, not a pet name.

“Hush,” Hongjoong manages. He rests his head against the armrest, shifting just slightly to get in a more comfortable position, though there is no chance at relieving how hot he feels right now.

There’s another lull in conversation. Hongjoong is very in-tuned to Seonghwa’s slow breathing and the weight of his arm over his waist. He tries to get himself back to the place he was earlier in the bedroom, where it was just… comfortable, cuddling with Seonghwa like this. Without the additional tension. But he’s more awake now than he was then. He wasn’t alone with Seonghwa then.

Seonghwa shifts minutely, but it’s enough to feel his thigh between his legs, and Hongjoong tries desperately hard not to tense up more than he already is.

He cannot get hard right now.

He won’t-

“You never commented on my outfit tonight,” Seonghwa’s voice breaks the silence, soft but imploring. Hongjoong opens his eyes. Seonghwa’s face is close, and though there’s limited light, Hongjoong can tell Seonghwa’s eyes are open looking at him.

“What do you want me to say? The others said everything there is to say, I think,” Hongjoong says with a quiet laugh. It’s not true, not in the slightest. There are many things Hongjoong can say about Seonghwa’s outfit, but he can’t.

“I want to know what you think,” Seonghwa replies, and there’s almost a whine to it. He pokes Hongjoong’s arm, prodding. Hongjoong tries to think of something he can say that isn’t absolutely incriminating.

“… it’s nice?” Hongjoong stumbles, knowing it’s shit even as it tumbles out of his own mouth. He expect Seonghwa to laugh at him. Instead, there’s a quick silence before a sigh.

“You’re so awkward with compliments,” Seonghwa mumbles. Hongjoong’s heart drops. Seonghwa sounds… disappointed. Genuinely disappointed.

Hongjoong doesn’t want that at all.

“You’re gorgeous,” is what rushes out of Hongjoong’s mouth before he can properly think. He just doesn’t want Seonghwa disappointed with him, but when the words settle in the space around them, Hongjoong finds it hard to breathe. That was too much, he thinks. That was too vulnerable. The seconds that tick by without Seonghwa saying anything are torture and he grips Seonghwa’s waist tighter. “Uh- I mean, the fairy outfit is gorgeous. You know, on you.”

Hongjoong has no idea what he’s saying anymore. Was that better? Was it worse? He wants the couch to swallow him whole. He wants Seonghwa to say something, anything, to get him out of this embarrassing moment in time.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, Seonghwa closes the short distance between them and connects their lips.

Hongjoong’s soft gasp is lost in Seonghwa’s lips pressing into his own. It’s warm, warmer than Hongjoong already was, and the chaos in Hongjoong’s mind stills to focus on the gentle pull and push of their lips. Hongjoong doesn’t even know when his eyelids slide shut, when he starts responding to the kiss, until those lips pull away. Hongjoong’s heart stutters in momentary panic, eyes shooting open.

He can make out a flash of white, Seonghwa’s teeth, and realizes Seonghwa must be biting his lower lip.

“Was.. that okay?” Seonghwa asks, his voice small. Hongjoong’s hand darts up, cupping Seonghwa’s jaw and guiding him back into another kiss. He doesn’t want Seonghwa to think, even for a moment, that this isn’t okay.

This is more than okay.

This is everything Hongjoong has been wanting for years.

He tries to show it. Every secret glance, every lingering touch, every romantic thought, every emotion goes into this kiss. He hopes it pours out of him with every movement.

He thinks it does. He feels Seonghwa’s lips pull into a smile beneath his own, and Hongjoong’s heart does multiple back-flips, because Seonghwa is happy that Hongjoong is kissing him. He can’t help but smile back.

Seonghwa’s hand rests on top of Hongjoong’s, and Hongjoong rubs his thumb over Seonghwa’s soft cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Seonghwa accepts it with a soft hum, and their lips disconnect with the quietest smack. Their noses brush, their breaths mingle, before they’re leaning in again.

The hand that is cupping Hongjoong’s own falls, trailing down his arm and then down his waist and chest. Hongjoong squirms at the feeling, letting his own hand drop from Seonghwa’s jaw to trace the line of Seonghwa’s waist down to his hip. When his hand touches the skin of Seonghwa’s thigh, Seonghwa presses harder into the kiss, and Hongjoong takes Seonghwa’s bottom lip between his own and sucks.

It gets him a small whine.

That whine unravels something in Hongjoong’s chest.

He dips his tongue into Seonghwa’s mouth. Seonghwa opens up beautifully, responding in kind, hiking his leg up further to wrap Hongjoong closer. Hongjoong squeezes his thigh, letting his hand dip all the way underneath the hem of the dress, and Seonghwa’s hips cant forward.

Heat spreads in Hongjoong’s lower stomach.

He slows their kisses, deliberately dragging out each kiss, teasing Seonghwa’s tongue with his own by retreating every time they meet. His heart, his mind, his body, his soul is battling themselves.

He wants to take it slow, to memorize every movement and every breath, and show Seonghwa how appreciated he really is. He wants to talk, to confess how long he’s wanted this.

He wants to pin Seonghwa to the couch and bury himself inside, fuck him in his little fairy dress until he’s screaming-

As if responding to those dangerous thoughts, Seonghwa cants his hips up again, but this time, he makes contact. Hongjoong takes in a sharp breath of air at how hard Seonghwa is under his ministrations. Seonghwa takes advantage of his open mouth to nibble his lower lip and Hongjoong’s mind is leaning even more toward his dangerous thoughts-

Seonghwa suddenly leans away. Hongjoong almost whines at the loss, desperately trying to follow.

“Joongie,” Seonghwa says. His voice is thick and he has every ounce of Hongjoong’s attention when Seonghwa pushes himself up. A hot hand is pressing against Hongjoong’s side, guiding. “Scoot this way.”

Hongjoong does so without a single thought, lying on his back in the middle of the couch. Seonghwa straddles him, knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of Hongjoong. Hongjoong desperately wishes there was more than just a pilot light around the corner behind Seonghwa’s back, so he could see Seonghwa in all his beauty, hovering over Hongjoong like this-

Seonghwa presses down, rubbing their bulges together, and Hongjoong loses his track of thought.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong hisses, wrapping his hands around Seonghwa’s waist possessively. There’s a whine in Seonghwa’s throat as he circles his hips in slow, deliberate movements. It feels mind-numbingly good, better with every press, and Hongjoong hoists his upper half up by digging an elbow into the couch. He wraps his other hand around Seonghwa’s neck, burying his fingers within Seonghwa’s hair, and tugs.

Seonghwa is all too eager to kiss him again. It’s less coordinated this time, more noisy with short gasps and moans, and Hongjoong is so hard it hurts. Keeping his hand locked firmly on Seonghwa’s neck, he lies back down on the couch, bringing Seonghwa with him. Once his back finds purchase, he reaches for Seonghwa’s hips, slipping his hands underneath and dress and pressing his fingers into the plushness of Seonghwa’s ass to drag him down more roughly.

“Oh,” Seonghwa gasps, the word melting into a moan as he lets Hongjoong set the pace, rutting them against each other. There are sparks behind his eyelids and it feels so fucking good, yet not enough, because there are layers of clothes between them and he can’t see and they’re not alone and-

They’re not alone.

Hongjoong is surprised the thought can even form when he’s so deliriously horny, but it does. Every shuffle of their costumes and every whimper suddenly seems loud in the space around them.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong says, rather vehemently. It takes every ounce of willpower he has to slip his hands out from beneath the dress and grab hold of Seonghwa’s hips, stilling them. The questioning whimper he gets makes Hongjoong feel like shit. He hurriedly kisses Seonghwa in apology. “Sorry, Seonghwa, fuck. Th- they could come down here any minute, you know. And I don’t even know if San’s roommates are home.”

Seonghwa is breathing harshly right in front of him. Hongjoong realizes he is, too, his chest heaving. He wishes he could read Seonghwa’s expression.

He hears, more than sees, Seonghwa swallow.

“Th- then come with me. To my dorm,” Seonghwa says, dragging his fingers down the front of Hongjoong’s shirt. Hongjoong tries not to squirm at the touch, but he’s terribly sensitive at the moment. Then Seonghwa’s words really sink in.

“Right now?” Hongjoong asks, wide-eyed. He sees Seonghwa nod.

“My roommate went home for Halloween weekend,” Seonghwa says, and the words lay loaded between them. Hongjoong feels himself flush all over again, worsened by Seonghwa’s still-roaming fingers. He bites his lip when Seonghwa slips his hands beneath his shirt, and his stomach jumps under the fingertips that travel slowly between his navel and top of his pants. “Please, Joongie?”

Hongjoong didn’t need any convincing, but that plea still rattles something primal within him.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. It’s just going to be hard to walk,” Hongjoong admits with a strained laugh. He gently takes Seonghwa’s hands and pulls them out of his shirt. “And you aren’t helping.”

Seonghwa chuckles, slowly getting off the couch. Hongjoong follows suit, taking time to adjust. He’s suddenly envious of Seonghwa’s dress, because it has to be way roomier than his pants.

“Our phones are upstairs,” Seonghwa comments.

“I’ll write a note or something,” Hongjoong says, and starts looking around for something to write on and something to write with. It’s not his house, though, and it’s still dark. He has no idea where they keep anything. There’s a desk that looks promising, but just as he opens one of the top drawers, Seonghwa comes behind him and wraps him in a hug. His breath catches when Seonghwa’s lips press down on the curve of his neck, leaving kisses on the skin. “Aish. I told you, you’re not helping.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Seonghwa breathes next to his ear, his lips barely brushing the lobe. Seonghwa slides a hand down to the hardness in between Hongjoong’s legs, and said legs almost give out when Seonghwa’s palm presses against him. “You’re the one stalling.”

Hongjoong shoves the hand away, turning in Seonghwa’s hold. He grabs Seonghwa’s chin, pulling him forward in a searing kiss before yanking himself back.

“Sorry for not wanting to worry our friends,” Hongjoong says sarcastically. He then takes a deliberate step away from Seonghwa. “You can’t touch me until we get to your dorm.”

Seonghwa pouts.

“Then let’s go,” Seonghwa urges, gesturing to the front door. “I’ll… I don’t know, send them an e-mail with my laptop or something.”

The thought is ridiculous and makes Hongjoong laugh as they make their way to the front door.

“Seonghwa is super needy when he’s horny. Got it,” Hongjoong teases. The outside air is cool, and it feels nice against Hongjoong’s flushed skin.

“Um, who grabbed my ass in there and picked up the pace?” Seonghwa teases right back as they walk down the steps of the front porch.

“Who kissed who first?” Hongjoong continues, unable to stop grinning. “Was that your plan tonight? Seduce me by cuddling me in that dress?”

Hongjoong can see Seonghwa more clearly in the moonlight. He has a matching grin on his face and it’s as precious as his giggles earlier. But there’s something else there… embarrassment. He averts his eyes.

Hongjoong has a hard time swallowing.

“Wait, that really was your plan?” Hongjoong asks disbelievingly. Seonghwa makes a little noise, almost like a squeak, and covers his face with his hand.

“I mean,” Seonghwa says, the phrase muffled before he pulls his hand away and puffs up his chest in an act of bravery. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Seonghwa is so cute.

The thought keeps spinning around and around in Hongjoong’s mind as he laughs joyfully. His amusement only grows as Seonghwa pouts.

“Ah, you can tease me, too, you know,” Hongjoong appeases. His heart slams under his rib cage, but after tonight, he feels courageous enough to admit it. “I’ve only had a crush on you for the past two years.”

He doesn’t expect Seonghwa to come to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk. Hongjoong takes three more steps by the time he turns around to raise an eyebrow.

Seonghwa is gaping at him.

“Two years!?” Seonghwa manages, his voice strangled. He then snaps out of whatever turmoil was holding him in place, wide, rushed steps pushing him down the sidewalk. As he passes Hongjoong, he mutters, “I actually hate you.”

“What?!” Hongjoong exclaims, hurrying along to keep up with him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Seonghwa asks, not breaking his pace but at least looking back at Hongjoong, who is actually slightly offended now.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Hongjoong rebuts. Seonghwa shakes his head.

“That’s not fair. I was very obvious! You weren’t obvious at all!” Seonghwa concludes.

“I wasn’t obvious? I let you get away with everything. There’s no way I’d let the other boys do half of what I let you do,” Hongjoong admits. “And how were you obvious? You’re nice to literally everyone!”

“I just have to keep reminding myself that you can be emotionally constipated,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong nearly chokes.

“Alright, well, insulting the person you like isn’t going to help much,” Hongjoong huffs.

“I just told you that I hate you.”

“You don’t,” Hongjoong says, slipping the jacket off his shoulders. He jogs for a moment to get close enough to Seonghwa to drape it over the back of his shoulders and Seonghwa shoots him a look. “You’re cold. Here.”

The dress isn’t much and Hongjoong can make out the goosebumps along Seonghwa’s arms. After a second, Seonghwa tugs the jacket around himself.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, and something about it makes Hongjoong pay close attention. Seonghwa tightens his hold around the jacket, a pretty blush skirting across his cheeks and nose. “I really like you.”

Hongjoong is grinning again. His cheeks are starting to hurt.

“I know. I felt it earlier,” Hongjoong says, unable to resist. Seonghwa shoots him a disgruntled look over his shoulder and Hongjoong puts up his hands placatingly. “I know. I really like you too, Seonghwa. You can tell our friends that we’re boyfriends in the e-mail you send later.”

Once again, Seonghwa freezes, turning to face Hongjoong with wide eyes.

“… really?” Seonghwa asks, and he looks so hopeful that Hongjoong could melt.

“If you want,” Hongjoong says. He reaches out to grasp Seonghwa’s hand, slotting their fingers together before walking again.

“… I thought I couldn’t touch you until we got to the dorm,” Seonghwa inquires, giving his hand a squeeze.

“This is an exception,” Hongjoong claims. He’s only slightly startled when Seonghwa pushes into his space and pecks him on the cheek.

“That’s an exception too,” Seonghwa insists happily.

“You’re not supposed to make the exceptions,” Hongjoong denies, amused as Seonghwa sticks his tongue out at him.

“Boyfriend privileges,” Seonghwa declares, and that statement truly is the beginning of the end for Hongjoong.

“How far is your dorm?” Hongjoong mutters, and Seonghwa laughs.

“Right around that corner,” Seonghwa answers with a smirk. And it’s true. The next corner puts them on Seonghwa’s street. He can see Seonghwa’s front door from where they are and anticipation thrums through him.

His dorm is on the second floor. They don’t let go of each other’s hands even as they climb the stairs and approach the door. Seonghwa uses his free hand to punch in a code and the mechanism unlocks. The light is flicked on, and Hongjoong takes in Seonghwa’s appearance without being shrouded in darkness for the first time in hours. He doesn’t know what to focus on – the way the edge of the dress sits on his legs, the slivers of skin exposed at his waist, the exposed collarbone, the plump lips that he had between his own earlier, his big brown eyes glinting playfully-

Seonghwa lets go of his hand.

“Now you can’t touch me until I send that e-mail,” Seonghwa says, all sing-song like, knowing he’s being nothing but a tease.

“I don’t think so,” Hongjoong denies, grasping Seonghwa by the waist and pulling him back. Seonghwa giggles and lets himself be pulled, as if he knew it would happen.

“You were so concerned about our friends earlier,” Seonghwa mocks, sliding his arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders. “Poor Wooyoung will be so worried.”

“Don’t talk about other men right now,” Hongjoong mumbles, capturing his lips in a kiss. Seonghwa smiles into it.

“Ah, Joong, are you the possessive type?” Seonghwa asks against his lips. Hongjoong pushes, and Seonghwa starts walking backwards. “That’s going to be hard for you. You know I like skinship.”

The back of Seonghwa’s legs touch his bed and they hastily take off their shoes. Free of the boots, Seonghwa allows himself to fall back on it. Hongjoong follows, pushing Seonghwa’s legs apart so he can settle in-between them. The dress rides up obscenely high. Hongjoong slides his palms down Seonghwa’s legs until they settle on his hips.

“They don’t get to have you like this,” Hongjoong says, pressing himself between Seonghwa’s legs, earning a breathy moan.

“Like this?” Seonghwa repeats, eyelids drooping. “What do you want to do with me?”

Everything, is Hongjoong’s initial thought.

“Fuck you in this dress,” is what comes out of his mouth. He leans down to capture Seonghwa’s lower lip between his teeth, nibbling and then soothing it with his tongue. Seonghwa takes a shaky breath, fisting the fabric of Hongjoong’s shirt between them.

“Sounds fun,” Seonghwa breathes against his lips, and then they’re kissing again, deeply, passionately. Seonghwa releases Hongjoong’s shirt to slip his hands beneath it instead, gently scraping his fingernails down Hongjoong’s bare sides. It sends a shiver through Hongjoong’s body, and he responds by tugging at his jacket still lying against Seonghwa’s shoulders. Seonghwa lifts himself off the bed just enough so the jacket can be slipped off of him and onto the floor. Seonghwa is pulling at Hongjoong’s shirt soon after, and it follows the jacket to the floor.

“Can I…?” Hongjoong asks, hooking his fingertips into the waistband of Seonghwa’s black briefs. The flush that takes over Seonghwa’s face makes the glitter on his cheekbones stand out.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa says, and it’s adorable how he seems shy after everything. Hongjoong shuffles backwards to pull the underwear off of Seonghwa. His cock lays flushed and wet against the fabric of the dress and Hongjoong bites his lip. He shuffles back into position, but leans his shoulders down between Seonghwa’s legs instead. He makes sure to lock eyes with Seonghwa before running his tongue up the length of it, punching a gasp from Seonghwa’s chest. “Oh my God…”

Hongjoong wraps his hand around the base, sucking at the head, enjoying the way Seonghwa thrashes above him. He goes lower and swallows, hearing a curse, and tongues the underside.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me,” Seonghwa whines, already sounding wrecked. Hongjoong selfishly palms himself through his pants, wishing he’d taken them off.

“I do,” Hongjoong says, clearing his throat when it comes out raspy. “Just trying to rile you up first.”

“I am very riled- ah,” Seonghwa gasps when Hongjoong swallows him again, bobbing up and down his length. Seonghwa’s hands thread through his hair, his legs shaking on either side of Hongjoong’s head. “Mmph.. your mouth feels so good.”

Hongjoong lifts up with a soft pop.

“Yeah?” Hongjoong asks uselessly, turning his attention to the insides of Seonghwa’s thighs. He kisses the skin, then bites down between the vines that spiral around Seonghwa’s legs. Seonghwa jerks in his hold. Hongjoong does the same to the other leg, and then again, until he feels Seonghwa’s hips start hiking up in search of friction. Just to drive him a little more crazy, Hongjoong blows on Seonghwa’s leaking cock.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa grits, and Hongjoong chuckles.

“You can pull on my hair,” Hongjoong says, and that’s all the warning Seonghwa gets before Hongjoong swallows him down to the back of his throat. Seonghwa moans loudly, blindly following the direction and tugging on Hongjoong’s hair as he takes Seonghwa in his mouth over and over.

“Joong,” Seonghwa rasps, and another tug at his hair burns Hongjoong’s scalp. Relentless, Hongjoong takes him deep again, humming around Seonghwa’s cock, feeling the way Seonghwa’s hips jerk beneath his hold. He thinks Seonghwa tries to say something else, but whatever it is turns to moans of pleasure as Hongjoong presses his tongue against the underside and sucks. Seonghwa’s legs are shaking on either side of his head, and Hongjoong gives him a quiet reprieve, lapping at the slit of his head. “Mmm.. Joong, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Hongjoong smirks.

“Isn’t that the point?” He asks, pumping Seonghwa’s cock with his hand. More precum dribbles from the slit and Hongjoong laps it up, taking in Seonghwa’s flushed face.

“I wanna come with you in me,” Seonghwa whines. Even as he says it, his hips are still jerking upwards, seeking friction.

“We can do that, too,” Hongjoong promises, letting the realization wash over Seonghwa’s face before he swallows Seonghwa’s cock again. Seonghwa gasps, throwing his head back with a whimper, and Hongjoong bobs his head relentlessly, feeling the head of Seonghwa’s cock bump into the back of his throat with every motion.

“Fuck, fuck, slow down-!” Seonghwa babbles, pulling at Hongjoong’s hair again. Hongjoong chuckles, the vibrations making Seonghwa’s body jerk again, but he doesn’t let up, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of Seonghwa’s hips. The next sound Seonghwa lets out is close to a sob and then his body pulls taut. Salty cum spills into Hongjoong’s mouth and he licks it up, swallowing greedily, sucking at the head when the majority of it falls. He feels Seonghwa’s body go limp, satiated. He can’t help wrapping his hand around the spent cock, pumping slowly. Seonghwa whines among his labored breaths, his hips jerking away from the overstimulatization.

Hongjoong crawls onto the bed, over Seonghwa, connecting their foreheads.

“You still with me?” Hongjoong asks with a smile. Seonghwa blinks his eyes open to stare at him, and then wraps both hands around Hongjoong’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. Hongjoong licks into his mouth, knowing Seonghwa can taste himself on his tongue, and the thought makes Hongjoong throb.

“There’s lube in the second drawer,” Seonghwa says when they break apart, his fingers tracing Hongjoong’s jaw.

“You sure you’re ready for that already?” Hongjoong asks, trailing kisses across his cheeks and jaw and neck. Seonghwa tilts his head to the side and Hongjoong takes it as an invitation to suck on the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet, hard enough to make a mark. Seonghwa whimpers.

“I will be if you take good care of me,” Seonghwa replies, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of Hongjoong’s head.

“That’s a given,” Hongjoong says, running his thumb over Seonghwa’s cheek before kissing him.

“Mm, I know,” Seonghwa says, sweetly, honestly, and Hongjoong has to kiss him at least two more times before venturing to the second drawer. The bottle is easy to spot and Hongjoong grabs it. He feels hands at the sash around his waist and stills to let Seonghwa untie it. He lets Seonghwa fling it aside and undo the front of his pants before grabbing Seonghwa’s hands, planting a kiss on them, and shuffling off the bed to pull his pants and boxers off. Seonghwa is shameless in the way he looks at him and Hongjoong feels his skin warm. “Do you want me to turn around?”

“It’ll probably be more comfortable for you,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa turns, his knees and elbows against the mattress. It’s quite a view on Hongjoong’s end, and he relishes it, grabbing an ass-cheek and squeezing. Seonghwa makes a show of dipping his upper half down further, and Hongjoong’s cock jumps in interest. He hastily pops open the cap of the bottle and squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the liquid. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Seonghwa wiggles his ass in the air in response, and Hongjoong laughs. He shuffles in close behind Seonghwa, trailing his wet fingers between Seonghwa’s cheeks and over his hole. He feels Seonghwa shiver and then dips a finger past the ring of muscle. Seonghwa makes a little sound, tightening before letting loose, and Hongjoong sinks it in further. It’s tight, and hot, and Hongjoong licks his lips just thinking about burying his cock inside, but for now, he slowly pumps one finger in and out, crooking his finger.

“Hah..” Seonghwa breathes, getting used to the intrusion. His cock is springing back to life, little sparks lighting up his lower belly. He mewls when Hongjoong pulls out, getting more lube before pressing back in and adding a second finger. Seonghwa feels it more, now, pressing back into the wandering fingers.

“You look incredible from this angle,” Hongjoong nearly growls, mesmerized by the way his fingers are sinking in and out of Seonghwa’s tight heat.

“It is the angle you wanted to keep all to yourself,” Seonghwa breathlessly laughs, though the sound trails off into a pleasured sigh. It takes Hongjoong a moment in his lust-filled mind to realize Seonghwa is referring to when they were cuddling in bed with their friends and Hongjoong pulled his dress back down.

“Because it’s mine,” Hongjoong replies, a third finger slipping in. Seonghwa chokes on a gasp, feeling the stretch, his cock fully hard again. Hongjoong crooks and scissors his fingers, feeling the muscle give way, and Seonghwa shakes with need. Hongjoong retracts the third finger, moving two with a purpose, and Seonghwa keens, his back bowing, when the fingers press against his prostate. “There it is.”

Hongjoong rubs the spot incessantly. Seonghwa cries, shoving himself back against the fingers working magic inside of him. His cock leaks pathetically.

“N-no, don’t do this again,” Seonghwa pleads, grasping the sheets beneath him tightly. “I’m going to cum. Fuck me, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong withdraws his fingers, hissing when he wraps them around his own cock, wetting it with short strokes. He drags Seonghwa back into him, rubbing the head of his cock against his hole before pushing inside.

Hongjoong does a full-body shudder at the feeling. Seonghwa moans, and mutters something that sounds like a curse. Hongjoong presses a hand against Seonghwa’s lower back and pulls back only to snap his hips forward again. Seonghwa’s ass jiggles at the movement, his dress hiking further up, the boy himself making sweet sounds that Hongjoong swallows as he repeats the motion again and again.

“Is this how you wanted it?” Hongjoong provokes, low and hoarse, his eyes trained on the spot where his cock is sinking into Seonghwa. “Is this why you brought me here?”

Seonghwa shudders, his legs feeling weak.

“Y- yeah. This is what I wanted,” Seonghwa admits, his eyes rolling up when Hongjoong hits his prostate again. “God, Joong, right there, please-”

Hongjoong snaps his hips harder, the answering wail he gets only driving him faster. He leans down, pressing his front to Seonghwa’s back, kissing his ear before whispering into it, “I’m going to drag this out next time. Right now, I want you to cum.”

Hongjoong wraps his hand around Seonghwa’s cock and tugs. He can feel Seonghwa’s entire body quake beneath him, can feel Seonghwa pushing back into his thrusts, and knows he’s close. Hongjoong feels the same way, like a string about to snap.

“Mmm-!” Seonghwa groans, and he lets go, shuddering through his orgasm. He tightens so perfectly that Hongjoong’s rhythm stutters, and Hongjoong presses his face against the back of the dress as he cums inside.

There’s a moment of stillness, where they stay like that, harsh breathing filling the room. Hongjoong stirs, ever so gently pulling out, shivering as he does so. Seonghwa collapses when he does, turning to look up at Hongjoong. Hongjoong collapses right next to him, running his fingers through Seonghwa’s now-damp bangs. Seonghwa leans into the touch, placing a soft kiss on Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong responds by placing an even sweeter kiss against his lips.

“… it’s morning,” Seonghwa says, voice low between them. Hongjoong glances at a nearby window, seeing the beginnings of daylight peeking through around the curtains. “Do you think anyone is up yet, wondering where we are?”

“Them? Up early? Probably not,” Hongjoong replies. He shuffles and grimaces. “And they are going to have to wait a little longer even if they are, because we’re kind of gross right now.”

Seonghwa giggles.

“Shower? And I’ll need to put these sheets in the wash,” Seonghwa says.

“This dress, too,” Hongjoong adds, pointing out the stains on Seonghwa’s front. He grins. “As much as I like the dress, I also like the idea of getting you naked.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“You made me cum twice. I hope you know you’re not getting any more out of me right now,” Seonghwa huffs.

“Not now, but later?” Hongjoong asks mischievously, hovering over Seonghwa to shower pecks down his cheek and neck. Seonghwa squirms and laughs at the attention.

“Much later,” Seonghwa teases. Hongjoong seems satisfied, stopping his assault.

“And you’ll go out with me in the meantime? Dinner?” Hongjoong asks. Seonghwa looks taken aback.

“Where did my emotionally constipated Joongie go?” Seonghwa asks, trying to look serious but the way the corners of his lips are jumping up is giving him away.

‘He fell in love with you,’ Hongjoong thinks.

“I’m still right here. Just, high off endorphins, or something,” Hongjoong jokes, and he relishes the way Seonghwa laughs.

They do manage to make their way back to San’s house a couple hours later and are accosted with questions, especially when they show up not no longer wearing their costumes and freshly showered.

Hongjoong is not ashamed when he creates absolute pandemonium by announcing he knows about the secret stash of his mother’s cookies, and contentedly watches the chaos with his arms wrapped around Seonghwa’s waist.