Chapter Text
Sejin never thought he would jeopardize his career by dating. There are two parts to that sentence.
He never thought he would risk his career. Full stop. He’s gone through so much shit to get where he is, to turn this art he’s so good at into a profession. What could be worth it?
He never thought he would risk his career for the sake of dating. Of all possibilities, why would he choose to date someone who would be a problem? An actor could date with his fans’ blessing, so long as he did it right.
Career already established – check. He was old enough and experienced enough that his fans would, by and large, accept him dating.
Potential partner is a woman – failed step two of the check list. Why even keep going? But there was more, and it mattered.
Potential partner is not a celebrity whose fans will be problematic – failed again. So the audience of people who wouldn’t accept this was two-fold, the homophobic and the idol-obsessive.
Bae Sejin was in love with Ryu Gunwoo, a man, an idol, and above all, a problem.
How ironic. Ryu Gunwoo never looked like a problem when you were face to face with him. He was so calm and steady, so trustworthy under Sejin’s hands, knew the solution to every problem. Behind his indifferent expression lay a warmth that couldn’t be dimmed and a mind that ran a mile a minute. From the moment they met, when Wise was still in the midst of production, Sejin knew that Gunwoo was the rare kind of person who could balance ruthless effectiveness with kindness for the people he cared about. He would get caught in no scandals. Someone like him wouldn’t allow it.
So why is such a practical man holding Sejin in a small room, almost a closet, backstage of Wishze’s concert, stage glitter falling from his hair onto the collar of Sejin’s coat as he buries his face in Sejin’s shoulder?
“You should go out to the group…” Sejin whispers. Hoping he won’t. He felt so stupidly happy when Gunwoo caught his eye, saw the flowers he was holding and led him away. When he twisted his clever fingers in Sejin’s backstage pass lanyard and pulled him closer in the dark.
“It’s alright. There’s so many people backstage tonight. No one will notice we went together.” His voice is just a touch hoarse, back-to-back concerts taking it out of him, scratching up that smooth velvet. Now that they’ve had the finale encore he’ll spend the next week fussy and punctilious about his recovery, resting his voice and drinking honeyed tea. If Sejin’s lucky, Gunwoo will do it at his apartment, lounging around and stalking forums on his phone for concert reviews, the taste sweet in both their mouths. Sejin’s in the midst of filming, but it’s in Seoul, he’ll be able to come home to Gunwoo each night. They can tangle up on the couch watching dramas he’s saved to watch with Gunwoo, talking more about everything that happened on Wishze’s tour than what’s on screen, Gunwoo pretending to blame Sejin for making him talk when he remembers he’s supposed to be resting his voice, stolen kisses between sips of tea. It will be so nice, Sejin aches for it.
“Gunwoo-ya, will you stay with me for a while?” He didn’t mean to ask now. He never means to be as desperate as he acts. The urgency in his voice is unwarranted.
“If you don’t mind,” Gunwoo says, all polite and unassuming like his stage makeup isn’t smeared on Sejin’s face.
Sejin can only laugh, quietly, helplessly. As if he minds, as if it’s a bother to risk everything for Ryu Gunwoo. The worst part about this has always been that it isn’t even a hard decision to make. It would be so, so much harder to stop himself.
“I don’t mind,” he says. “Come over as soon as you want.” As soon as you can.
For an actor, he’s terrible at playing nonchalant. Gunwoo picks his head up off Sejin’s shoulder and tilts Sejin’s face up for a kiss. His lips are always gentle, precise and warm. With a faint smile, he brushes a stray glitter from Sejin’s temple.
“Tonight, then.”
Sejin loves him. He doesn’t care that it’s a reckless thing to do.