Seonghwa Fics - Tumblr Posts
crimson white snow
content: seongjoong x gn! reader, angst, soulmate au, hanahaki au. warnings: profanities, descriptions of throwing up, mention of blood.
summary: when your best friends are each other’s soulmates, how do you tell them that your red string is tied to both of their pinkies?
word count: 4.3k words
note: this initial idea came to me in 2021 and i let it collecting dust until a few days ago lol. i hope you guys enjoy this one!
in a friendship– a trio, specifically, you believed that each person represented either the sun, moon, or stars.
in your case, seonghwa was the sun, hongjoong was the moon, and you were the stars. the three, inseparable friends who loved each other more than anyone else to ever breathe on earth.
but when they all turned sixteen and were blessed with the gift of the sight of their red strings, everything changed.
when seonghwa looked down at his ring finger, candles blown out, he found the red string to be very much shorter than he expected. as his eyes trailed down the string, he looked up at hongjoong, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.
that’s when you all knew.
hongjoong’s birthday came around, and the sight of his red string connected to seonghwa relieved him. there was a sort of euphoria and satisfaction that filled them both. unspoken feelings that had blossomed into something more were now affirmed by the universe itself.
you, of course, were elated. the two boys you’d considered your best friends for years were soulmates. their souls were intertwined, bound to love each other for eternity. the twinge of jealousy in your heart was quickly ignored as you celebrated their love, congratulating the two.
most, would call it fate.
but your birthday confirmed that whatever god there was had made a mistake. a very horribly, big mistake.
it was snowing.
you remember because hongjoong was flushed when he came in your room. he only turned red– both cheeks and ears, when he was embarrassed or cold.
he sighed, promptly making himself at home. laying on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickled your ear. you shivered, your grip on his hand tightening promptly. he didn’t mind. hongjoong liked holding your hands strangely enough.
“i know it’s your birthday,” hongjoong mumbled, snuggling against you. “but you’ll indulge me for a bit, yeah?” he asks as you chuckle.
“of course, joong. anything for you.”
the boy hums in satisfaction, letting out a soft sigh. he shuts his eyes, mumbling about how seonghwa was late because he got delayed at his club, or something along those lines.
you hum in acknowledgement, knowing that your other friend was definitely getting you a cake. you’d overheard the two discussing it a week prior.
the soft footsteps that grew closer alerted you of seonghwa’s arrival. it was funny– while hwa was indeed very quiet, the sound of his socks against your wooden floor was unmistakable.
hongjoong yawned, sitting up. the soft knock you anticipated came as you chuckled. “come in, hwa.”
the sight of seonghwa pouting as he entered made you laugh even harder. “how’d you know it was me?” he asked, carefully balancing the cake box as he closed the door. “it was joong, wasn’t it?”
“hey man, i didn’t say anything,” he raised his hands, proclaiming his innocence.
“you both aren’t that slick, you know,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. seonghwa laughs at your reaction, putting a smile on your face.
“humour us, sweetheart?”
you pretend to contemplate, humming as joong cackled beside you. “hmm, i’ll cut you both some slack,” you announce. hwa rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face speaks volumes.
turning your attention to the box, you watch as seonghwa opens it, taking out the most beautiful cake you had ever seen. “oh my god,” you marvelled at the sight of it.
the heart-shaped cake was pure white, similar to the snow that fluttered down outside. the crimson red icing that decorated he cake made you smile. it was a beautiful cake, an image that would be etched into your memory forever.
“this is beautiful, seonghwa,” you whisper, glancing up at him. “thank you.”
he smiles back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “anything for you sweetheart. we know how much you’ve been waiting for this day.”
you sat in front of your cake, hongjoong and seonghwa across you with the biggest smiles on their face. blowing the candles out, you look down at your hands, filled with excitement. finally, it was your turn to find out who your soulmate was. however, when you look down, you are stunned.
to your complete and utter horror, you see two strings tied around each of your pinkies.
eyes gazing down at the crimson red string, you nearly choke on air when you see one end tied to seonghwa’s pinky, while the other, was neatly wrapped around hongjoong’s.
“what’s wrong?”
seonghwa’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts. you felt sick to your stomach. oh, how cruel the universe was. how cruel fate was.
“i- i… what the fuck?” you whisper harshly, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes. “i don’t have a string,” you lie so easily, straight through your teeth. “i don’t have a soulmate.” you lied so well.
that was the first lie you ever told the two, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was confusion and anger. nothing else.
hongjoong takes your hands into his with a sad smile. “and that’s completely fine, y/n. we’re always here for you,” he reassures you calmly. seonghwa does the same and you feel like crying even harder as you see your strings tangle.
you relished in their touch, their fingers feel so soft, skin warm against your cold hands. you felt safe in their presence, the comforting aura they let out never failing to make you smile. it was bittersweet.
if only you didn’t detest the sight of the red strings around their pinkies. the crimson red thread, a painful reminder to you that this was a reality you couldn’t escape.
there were always myths about the poor souls that the universe decided to curse: the one’s with no soulmates.
if people with no soulmates were cursed by the universe, how about the one’s with two? how about the one’s whose soulmates were each other’s forever, but not theirs? how about you?
you didn’t know.
so you left.
after graduating, you moved overseas. of course the two were there to wish you goodbye. being friends for thirteen years made it harder for you to leave.
you chuckled as seonghwa engulfed you in a tight hug, his tears soaking into your jacket. “don’t cry,” you whisper, stroking his head as hongjoong holds back his own tears, lips trembling. “i’ll be back before you know it.”
that was the second lie you ever told them, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was pity and self-hatred. nothing else.
you started a new life for yourself, burying yourself in studies, jobs and everything you could imagine to avoid going home.
despite all that, you never felt satisfied. there was this hole inside your heart that couldn’t be filled with materialistic goods, academic achievements nor work-place success.
there was nothing that could fill that hole seonghwa and hongjoong once occupied in your heart.
another problem had presented itself through all that turmoil, however, and that was the disease of unrequited love everyone so detested.
one would certainly think flowers were a congratulatory gift .
it started as a tightening feeling in your chest. your once light pants turn into desperate gasps for air before a sick, nauseous feeling takes over. a pounding headache, blurry vision, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes before the most sickening feeling begins to build in the pit of your stomach.
it grows and grows, bubbling like a cauldron before exploding, petals flying out of your mouth. elegantly prancing through the air, crimson red blood dripped off the petals, staining the pure white marble floor. the feeling would go on for another half an hour, or even longer. all you knew was that you wanted it to stop.
years passed, and yet, you could never grow accustomed to the wretched, metallic taste that lingered fervently on the tip of your tongue.
lilies and black dahlias now littered your bathroom floor, the once white marble tiles now painted in a mix of white, black, and crimson red.
still, you told nobody. your friends, family, coworkers– none of them knew about what you were going through.
god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa find out.
on a cold winter’s night, you had gotten an unexpected call from the two. five years had passed and not once had you gone back to see them.
guilt haunted you, always hovering around and never truly leaving. you wanted to see them. you wanted so desperately to throw yourself into their arms and never let them go them. if you were to loosen your grip, perhaps they’d slip through the cracks of your grasp and fade into nothingness.
you wanted to keep hongjoong and seonghwa for youself forever, but you were a fucking coward.
your phone rang. you had propped it up against the potted plant (orchids, your favourite) in the middle of your dining table. the plate of pasta in front of you was warm when you clicked your screen to receive their call.
“hi guys, sorry i’ve been so busy, work’s been crazy!” you immediately spew an apology to your friends, twirling the pasta with your fork. their lack of response has you confused and you look up. a loud gasp escapes you, fork clattering against the ceramic plate as it slipped out of your grasp.
“what the fuck?”
seonghwa’s ring finger is adorned with a beautiful sapphire stone, simple yet utterly gorgeous. the grin on both of their faces has you gaping at them, utterly speechless.
“you- you’re?” your gaze switches between the two males. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise seonghwa had bleached his hair. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise the tears that began to roll down your flushed cheeks.
“oh, no, y/n,” seonghwa coos with a frown. “don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “don’t cry.”
you sob, desperately trying to wipe the tears away. “i’m sorry, oh my god,” you inhale a sharp breath. “i’m so happy for you both– congratulations!” you smile, trying to hold back the building feeling in your chest.
seonghwa’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. “thank you darling,” he whispers with a sad smile. “you were the first person we thought of telling, y’know?” he chuckles softly.
god, seonghwa looked so beautiful smiling. you always loved how rosy his cheeks were, his eyes scrunched into the crescent moon. seonghwa’s smile was radiant, shining even brighter than the sun itself.
hongjoong takes the phone, eyes twinkling under the night sky. you recognised his apartment’s balcony all too well. “come home, y/n,” he says softly. it’s the most tender you’ve ever heard him. “come home for us please?”
your heart breaks. you’d never heard hongjoong so desperate. he was longing, yearning for you. he was pleading for you to come home– how could you refuse the request of your soulmate?
“of course, joong. anything for you.”
when the call ends, you run to your bathroom. you can feel the rising of petals, the all too familiar pain scratching your throat.
your knees hit the cold, marble flower, head hanging over the toilet bowl as you hurl out petals and vines. they scratch your throat, a permanent reminder of the unrequited love you faced.
the white and black petals scattered across the floor, blood dripping off them. it was a beautifully gruesome scene, like something out of an artistic horror movie.
you slump against the cold wall of your bathroom with a groan, wiping the blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. how you were going to be able to hide this from them? you had no idea.
unfortunately, you still hadn’t one when you walked out your gate.
it was a cold, cold day. you had a sweater on, hoodie layered over it for the extra warmth. palms clammy and sweaty, you gripped your bag tightly. god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa recognise you before you were emotionally and mentally prepared to see them for the first time in six years.
had they grown taller? were they as youthful as they once were? has their smiles stayed the same? had their voices deepened? did they still have the same dreadfully boring style? did they still wear the same cologne that clung to their clothes back then? were the bracelets you made them still sitting on their wrist all so beautifully? had–
“y/n!”
you jump at the shout of your name, looking up in shock. in front of you, just standing a few feet away, were kim hongjoong and park seonghwa.
eyes glistening with surprise, you look at them, voice stuck in the back of your throat. oh god, they looked so beautiful.
hongjoong hadn’t grown much, but he stood with confidence. his dark hair looked soft and silky, eyes bright and filled with twinkling stars. his cheeks stayed plump and full of life, a dusty pink that made you want to kiss them.
apart from seonghwa’s bleached hair, the next most obvious change was his height. he had grown almost a head taller, and yet, the sparkle in his eyes had remained. his cheeks were rosy, pink, plump lips curled into a bright, ethereal smile.
you feel years of emotions come crashing down on you. sadness, regret, pain, guilt— love. you burst into tears, wrapping your arms around the two men (not boys, you had to remind yourself).
“i’m sorry,” you apologise as hongjoong starts to cry, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry joong, i’m sorry,” you buried your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing.
seonghwa comforted you with tears in his eyes, patting your head gently as he whispered sweet nothings to you. it seemed like deja vu to you, the whole scenario. if you hadn’t inhaled that sweet, floral scent that haw always wore that was mixed with the woody, musky scent hongjoong did, you’d think it all a dream.
as snow began to fall outside, the warmth radiating off the bodies of your soulmates made you realise how harsh this winter would be.
harsh it was indeed.
you’re about to pull your hair out before the ceremony begins. chewing at your bottom lip, your eyes dart around the venue, mind racing faster than you can comprehend.
“y/n.”
hongjoong’s voice sounds eerily deeper than you were used to. it sent shivers down your spine which made him laugh. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks in a cheeky manner as you huff.
“don’t blame me for not being used to your voice,” you lament, resting your elbow on his shoulder out of habit. “i still can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”
you look at the man with a grin and take note of the suit he’s wearing. it’s tailored to fit him perfectly, the details on it intricate and beautiful. the embroidered sun and stars, flowers and snowflakes adorned his clothing. you loved how he and seonghwa had gotten both their suits modified to have a more personal touch to them. it was artistic, elegant yet somewhat nostalgic.
the man sighs, glancing up at you. “it has been almost six years since we last saw each other,” he reminds you.
your body stiffens, rigid and filled with guilt. hongjoong notices this and frowns. “i didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says and you nod.
you knew that. you knew that hongjoong wasn’t holding it against you, but you were holding it against yourself. the file was eating out you inside out, like a parasite clawing at your skin and tearing your flesh from bone.
“hey, y/n,” he says softly, hand reaching out to grab yours. “it’s okay,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with the most soft and genuine smile. “it’s okay.”
you nod again and he pulls you in for a hug. hongjoong’s embrace had always felt so safe. you feel yourself melt into it, and if you had closed your eyes, the both of you would’ve been sixteen all over again.
“i love you, y/n,” hongjoong whispers as your eyes widen with surprise. hongjoong had never told you that before. “never forget that,” he pulls away with a wink before bidding you goodbye and going to greet his coworkers.
you stood there, still stunned by his words. your heart was screaming, yelling at you for being so foolish as to not have said it back. however, ‘i am so painfully and desperately in love with you, kim hongjoong’ seemed a bit hard to shout back in the setting you were currently in.
“now, what on earth could you be thinking about right this moment that isn’t related to your two boyfriends?”
you’re snapped out of your thoughts by a warm, teasing voice. “yunho,” you smile at the blonde man who’s dressed nicely in a suit. “glad you could make it,” you lean in and hug him tightly. “haven’t seen you since high school.”
he chuckles. “yeah, you left right after graduation– i couldn’t make it to see you off,” he feigns a frown as you laugh, slapping his shoulder. “and please, as if hongjoong would let me live it down if i didn’t come,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at the oh-so-true statement. “you okay?”
“huh?” you look at him confused. “why wouldn’t i be okay?”
yunho shrugs. before you can question him further, you are distracted by yeosang’s mint hair. he walks over with a smile, waving at you. “what’s with that look on your face?”
you huff. “yunho asked me if i was okay and won’t tell me why he suspects otherwise,” you grumble as yeosang’s eyes widen. he shoots the taller male a flare and you stare at him in shock. “is there something i should be worried about?”
yeosang sighs. “well,” he begins, pausing as he pondered silently. “you have to promise not to take this badly,” he warns as yunho sends him a worried look. you nod slowly, anxiety filling you like water gushing into an empty bottle.
“you see, back when we were all in high school,” he begins hesitantly. “we all thought you had a crush on either joong or hwa,” he says as you feel your heart sink into the out of your stomach. “but we didn’t speculate, of course.”
you brush it off with a scoff. “me? like them?” you fake a laugh. “never. they…” you train off, looking at hongjoong who’s smiling from ear to ear, cheeks a rosy pink.
it’s oddly bittersweet to see the boy you once bickered with in elementary school now getting married to the boy that snuck jellies to you in class. turning back, you give yeosang a sad smile. “they’re made for each other.”
after greeting the rest of your old friends (and stopping wooyoung and san from crying before the wedding actually started), you leave the garden to visit seonghwa in his private suite.
one of seonghwa’s many request was for you to walk him down the aisle. it was sickening masochistic for you to accept the proposition, now that you thought about it. then again, who were you to back out now?
one, two, three knocks.
“come in,” seonghwa’s silky smooth and sweet voice fills your ears. you tap your keycard, opening the door gently. “hello sweetheart.”
you feel your cheeks warm up, heart fluttering. “hey, hwa,” you whisper, taking in how gorgeous he looked. adorned in a white suit, flowers, clouds, the moon and stars embroidered on the sleeves, the inner mesh material iridescent. “you’re breathtaking. like an angel.”
seonghwa’s cheek turn a darker shade of pink as he clears his throat. “thank you,” he whispers as you giggle, holding his hands. your thumbs traced his knuckles, admiring how slim and long his fingers were. “we missed you so much, y’know?”
you didn’t dare look up and remained silent. “we didn’t know how to go on with life as usual without you by our side,” he hummed with a small smile. “but i don’t care about all that now. i’m just glad you decided to come home.”
home.
you felt the pit of your stomach churn (you were certain it was your heart). to you, hongjoong and seonghwa were home. no matter how long you stayed in your chic studio apartment overseas, it never felt right.
hongjoong and seonghwa’s embrace did. it felt warm, comforting, lovely. you had to promise yourself to not get too attached to it.
“i’m sorry,” is all you can find yourself saying and thinking. “i’m sorry, hwa.”
seonghwa hushes you, his fingers brushing against your skin ever-so gently. he tucks your hair behind your ear with a smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”
you wrap your arms around the blonde, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “i love you both so much,” you confess (unbeknownst to him). “i love you, park seonghwa and i am so happy for you.”
he smiles, hugging you back as a tear slips down his cheek slowly. “i love you too, y/n. i love you so much.”
relishing in the moment, you’re determined to make sure their wedding was perfect. you were going to push aside all personal feelings, ignore all the pain and sadness, and make sure that seonghwa and hongjoong had the best day of their life.
you were certain that nothing was going to go wrong that day.
oh, how wrong you were.
“i’m sorry, i can’t do this.”
seonghwa’s voice is soft, but audible. your head snaps up so fast, your neck could’ve broken. to be honest, you weren’t particularly paying attention to whatever the officiant was saying, assuming that both men were going to say ‘yes’ immediately.
you furrowed your brows in confusion, the gasps around you loud. lifting your head to look at the man, you find that he’s already looking at you.
“what are you doing?” you mouth, gasping softly at the sight of tears rolling down the blonde’s cheeks. “don’t cry,” you whisper, frowning at the male.
seonghwa turns his attention back to hongjoong, pain and regret in his eyes. “i can’t lie to you, joong. i can’t lie to you and say that i love only you.”
a sinking, disgusting feeling bubbles in your chest as you gripped your forearm tightly. the look on hongjoong’s face tears you down and rips you apart. he looked betrayed, hurt, but somewhere hidden in his eyes, there was a sort of relief.
you didn’t like this.
you didn’t like this at all.
seonghwa turns to look at you and your heart instantly drops. “i can’t lie to you, joong, and say that i’m not still in love with y/n as well.”
the guests gasp in shock once again, eyes wide as they stared at the three of you. an interestingly dramatic turn of events, one would say.
but not for you. the shock on your face couldn’t have been more evident. it felt like your heart had stopped beating and instead froze in time.
had the bleach sunk too deep into his skull? what was he thinking? why was he revealing this now? when did seonghwa realised he felt this way? what the hell was he thinking? had park seonghwa really just said that?
“hwa…” hongjoong looks at him in pain, holding onto seonghwa’s hands tightly. “i can’t lie to you and say that i’m not in love with y/n either.”
with only two sentences, you felt as if your whole world had come crashing down. you stare at the two boys, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.
“oh my god!”
san and wooyoung’s voices erupted from the crowd as they point towards the two grooms. following their gaze, you gasp at the now visible strings tied around their pinkies.
your gaze followed the strings (as did everyone else’s) and you were utterly horrified to see them tied to your ring finger.
finally, your soulmate strings could be seen.
looking up at your two best friends, shaking, you see the sadness, betrayal and relief written all over their faces. truth be told, it was hard to through a blurry vision. tears streamed down your cheeks, fear gripping you by the throat.
hongjoong stares at you with pain in his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “we’re your soulmates?”
seonghwa is crying. “and you didn’t tell us? how long have you known?”
you stare at them, words stuck in your throat, refusing to come out.
“did you lie to us on your birthday?” seonghwa seems to come to the realisation. “is this why you chose to lie to us both?” he asked softly, pointing at the two strings. you could only nod.
“is this why you left?” hongjoong seems to not even want to believe his words. “is this why you never came back to visit?”
you nod again.
“why, y/n? why didn’t you tell us?”
you stare at the two men in silence. your voice was stuck in your throat, refusing to come out. a metallic taste filled your mouth and you knew what was coming.
“i—”
and before you could speak, petals flew out of your mouth, blood dripping down your chin as you look up at the two boys.
everyone gasped, staring at the flowers on the ground. lilies and black dahlias soaked in your blood. the very flowers that adorned the wedding venue– hongjoong and seonghwa’s favourites.
you look at your best friends, taking in their looks of pure horror. tears streamed down their cheeks, mouths agape. they’re paralysed in shock.
forcing a smile, you look at them. all the memories began to flood back as your vision grew spotty, your body slowly giving up on you.
god, even when death was knocking on your door, seonghwa and hongjoong still looked angelic.
“i’m sorry.”
and so on this cold, hauntingly beautiful day, crimson red blood soaked into pure white snow: a permanent reminder of the pain of unrequited love.
Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed.
🌻 Word count: 13k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
“Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.
“What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”
“Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”
It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.
“Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.
It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.
“We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”
Keep reading
Wallflower - Part Two - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE HERE.
🌻 Summary: The events of Sunday morning won’t leave your mind, and you are determined to figure out if every aspect of the rumor about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, is true.
🌻 Word count: 11.5k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
You have a problem and it is one of your own making. In fact, it could even be considered two separate problems that are colliding.
Problem one? You have no friends. After spending years striving to climb the corporate ladder in your quest for money and job security, all your real friendships fell apart and faded away. That meant that every one of your ‘friends’ were actually coworkers. The unhappier you got at your job, the more distant you felt from them, leaving you increasingly isolated.
Problem two? You fucked around with a coworker. Most people would agree that to fuck a coworker, especially in an office setting, is a bad idea. Sure, it hadn’t turned into full on sex but you believed a general consensus of the situation would be that having your coworker eat you out to orgasm twice could be a short term pleasure without thinking of the long term ramifications.
The way these problems collided was in the fact that you couldn’t talk to anyone about Seonghwa because you had no friends who aren’t directly tied to work.
This meant that, while pressing the button in the elevator on Monday morning, you are left to the spiraling thoughts in your head without anyone’s help or advice.
As the doors open and you step onto the floor, you immediately scan the area for Seonghwa. But you don’t spot him. All that you see is the usual Monday morning bullshit – people cramming donuts in their mouth, the scent of that cheap break room coffee, the typing of many keyboards, people gossiping by the water cooler about the party on Saturday, and the sound of various boring and tedious phone calls.
Keep reading
Wallflower - Final Part - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE.
🌻 Summary: A decision on Seonghwa’s part finally forces you to make choices in regards to your job and your feelings for him.
🌻 Word count: 7.6k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. smut. oral sex, both reader giving and receiving. dirty talk. unprotected sex. creampie.
🌻Tags are now at the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
“Oh, you didn’t want to take advantage of wearing jeans this Friday?” Sir Dipshit looms over your desk, peering down at you with a curious expression on his face.
“I didn’t, I actually don’t really like wearing jeans,” You reply, pretending to be engrossed in reading an e-mail.
“Don’t like wearing jeans?” He says incredulously, “Never heard of such a thing! You know, it’s a perk for the office to wear jeans on the occasional Friday. Seems to be a shame not to take advantage of it.”
Your skin is starting to crawl from this conversation. Time to get out of it. You close out of the e-mail and push away from your desk, making a show of having forgotten something.
“Completely forgot to get that TPS report cover that I made a copy of.” You are inching past Sir Dipshit. “Sorry, excuse me.”
Before he can say anything, you are scurrying away from your cubicle, taking the long way to the copy machine by circling over to Seonghwa’s cubicle.
He is typing away, oblivious to your presence since his back is towards you. You haven’t been with him physically since Tuesday when you devoured one another with such force that you still can’t really wrap your head around it. Ever since then, it isn’t that things have been awkward but…something has felt different. Off. Wrapped up and shoved in the back of the closet with the door tightly shut with all the other problems you’re ignoring.
Keep reading
Wallflower - Part Two - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE HERE. PART THREE HERE.
🌻 Summary: The events of Sunday morning won’t leave your mind, and you are determined to figure out if every aspect of the rumor about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, is true.
🌻 Word count: 11.5k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
You have a problem and it is one of your own making. In fact, it could even be considered two separate problems that are colliding.
Problem one? You have no friends. After spending years striving to climb the corporate ladder in your quest for money and job security, all your real friendships fell apart and faded away. That meant that every one of your ‘friends’ were actually coworkers. The unhappier you got at your job, the more distant you felt from them, leaving you increasingly isolated.
Problem two? You fucked around with a coworker. Most people would agree that to fuck a coworker, especially in an office setting, is a bad idea. Sure, it hadn’t turned into full on sex but you believed a general consensus of the situation would be that having your coworker eat you out to orgasm twice could be a short term pleasure without thinking of the long term ramifications.
The way these problems collided was in the fact that you couldn’t talk to anyone about Seonghwa because you had no friends who aren’t directly tied to work.
This meant that, while pressing the button in the elevator on Monday morning, you are left to the spiraling thoughts in your head without anyone’s help or advice.
As the doors open and you step onto the floor, you immediately scan the area for Seonghwa. But you don’t spot him. All that you see is the usual Monday morning bullshit – people cramming donuts in their mouth, the scent of that cheap break room coffee, the typing of many keyboards, people gossiping by the water cooler about the party on Saturday, and the sound of various boring and tedious phone calls.
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Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART TWO HERE.
🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed.
🌻 Word count: 13k
🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)
🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.
this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
“Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.
“What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”
“Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”
It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.
“Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.
It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.
“We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”
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Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
📼 Summary: On the cusp of 1998, your quiet life working at a department store is upended when an attractive new coworker named Seonghwa awakens your desire for sexual exploration.
📼 Word count: 22k
📼 Genre and warnings: smut one shot. coworkers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. use of a camera during sex. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
📼 fic playlist here.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
Monday, October 6th, 1997
“What happened to the stack of CDs I put right there?”
“Right where?”
“Right there,” You gesture to the empty space that once housed a cluster of CDs that needed to be put on the shelf.
Your coworker, San, pops his head up from where he had been busy sorting through one of the boxes of new inventory. His brows furrow while staring at the spot as if he could magically make the CDs appear.
“What was it?”
“The new Janet Jackson album.”
“The new…oh shit, wait, I might’ve knocked it into this other box,” He ducks back down out of your view and you hear him wildly rummaging around.
With a sigh, you slump against the shelf and stare out at the store which closed half an hour ago. Now, you’re stuck restocking new releases in the CD and VHS section for another hour before your shift ends. At least there are no customers, you think gratefully.
“What’s it called?” San asks, still trying to find what he accidentally misplaced.
“The Velvet Rope, I think,” You reply, wishing your feet didn’t hurt so much.
The stack of CDs really isn’t that important but you just needed an excuse to take a break. It’s been a long day, working a double to cover for someone else, and you were sick of being here about three hours ago. The vest you have to wear while clocked in has long been discarded, tossed onto the counter as soon as the last customer finally got the hell out.
“Wait, I found it,” San says with the same enthusiasm of someone completing a lifelong goal. He circles around the aisle, holding the pile of CDs, “Where should I put them?”
“I’m just stacking them next to Mariah Carey,” You reply while taking them out of his hands and turning back to the shelf, “I don’t care.”
“Fine by me.”
You’ve worked with San for two years now and know him as well as one can know another coworker. He rarely missed a shift, probably because he enjoyed flirting with the women who wandered into the electronics section too much. There were two things San liked to do outside of work: work out and go clubbing with his best friend, Wooyoung. He was good looking to the point that even the ugly work mandated vest couldn’t take away from his jawline sculpted out of marble.
“Thanks for helping me out,” San says.
“It’s cool, dude. I really did not feel like working in my department tonight.”
“You’re sick of organizing all the tube tops? Don’t see any of them you want for yourself?” He jokes, knowing how bored you are of working in the women’s clothing department.
You make a face. “Ugh, as if.”
San leans against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Did you hear about the new guy they hired for the men’s department?”
“No,” You reply, uninterested.
“I heard he’s good looking,” A thought strikes him and in an alarmed tone, he goes, “You don’t think he’s better looking than me, do you?”
You shove the last CD onto the shelf although it teeters close to the edge. You stare at it, willing that it doesn’t fall and when the case stays in place, you finally turn your attention to San. “Why, worried you’re going to no longer be the Resident Hottie?”
“Pfft, no. But…you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
You lean down and pick up one of the boxes of CDs, balancing it on your knee until you get a better hold on it. “Why are you buggin about a new hire?”
“I’m not buggin about him,” San protests quickly.
“Yes, you totally are. I’m sure he’s nothing special. Don’t worry about it,” You turn away from San, getting ready to head down another aisle to finish putting the CDs away, “I can’t even remember the last time we hired someone who impacted me outside of asking and then promptly forgetting their name.”
San looks mollified, taking comfort in the fact that everyone knows he is the hottest guy working in the store. You plop the box down, sorting through it to see what to put away first.
The routine is comforting in that sort of mind numbing manner, the same pace of your life unchanging with no disruptions on the horizon. Tomorrow, you’d wake up and be here again to sort out ugly women’s clothing and clean up the fitting rooms after old ladies leave piles everywhere.
That’s how it always goes, how it will continue to go.
Tuesday, October 7th, 1997
“I don’t want this one,” A customer declares, thrusting a crushed velvet mini dress into your arms, “Or this.” A denim dress is tossed as the customer saunters off back into the aisles of clothing racks.
You stand there, momentarily bunching the fabric in your hands with irritation before collecting your features into a pleasant expression. You go back to organizing the clothing from the fitting room racks to put them away. There are two hours left in your shift and your feet hurt yet again.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” A voice cuts cleanly through the music being piped into the building. It is deep, almost melodious and you look over your shoulder curiously, expecting to see a lost looking man trying to find something to buy for his wife or girlfriend.
There is, in fact, a lost looking man standing there but his blue vest indicates he’s a coworker. The slightly confused expression combined with the outfit leads you to believe this is the man San had been talking about the other night.
“I just started working here yesterday and the person who was supposed to be training me called out so I’m running the men’s department alone. I just had some questions and was hoping you could help me.”
The man is tall and slender with black hair carefully combed. The ugly blue vest does nothing to take away from his uniquely pretty face – beautiful brown eyes with a strong nose, perfectly straight white teeth and full lips. In his hands is a small collection of clothing, long fingers splayed out across to stop it from tumbling onto the floor. His shoes look brand new, the shine making it obvious. A belt loops around his small waist, wearing simple dress slacks.
You’re so used to going through the motions at work, typically zoned out that only something absolutely wild could shatter you from that usual feeling. Seeing someone so pretty against the backdrop of the woman’s department brings you up short.
“Uhhhh,” You go before managing to collect yourself swiftly, replying, “Yeah, I can help you,” Your eyes fall onto his nametag, and you tentatively say his name aloud for the first time, “Seonghwa.”
He smiles, a sort of strange smile in which he looks vastly uncomfortable, saying your own name after reading it from your tag. You trail after him, cutting through the organized racks of the women’s department into the general shitshow of the men’s.
For some reason, it was impossible to keep a full team in the men’s section. They always quit or just stopped showing up. Over the two years you worked here, you normally didn’t speak to anyone in the men’s department too much since they never seemed to last long. That meant the department always looked like a group of wild school children tore through it regularly and today is no exception.
Seonghwa takes you to a large box dumped unceremoniously onto the counter near the men’s fitting rooms. “I was told to process these returns but I don’t…actually know how to do that,” He admits bashfully.
“Oh, it’s not difficult. I can show you.”
He looks relieved, thanking you. As you begin to show Seonghwa the process, you sneak a glance at his face out of the corner of your eye. His eyelashes are long, his lips prettily plump and his skin seemingly perfect. What planet did this dude come from? You wonder, unsure how someone like him stumbled into working at a store like this.
“You know how to fold the clothes the right way?” You ask at one point.
“Yeah, I’ve worked retail before in my last town.”
“Oh, you moved here?”
Seonghwa looks up as you hand him a particularly ugly dress shirt made from a shiny fabric. In the horrendous fluorescent lights which make almost everyone look garish, he seems to be immune.
“Yeah, just a couple weeks ago. Not far away, just a few towns over.” He quickly changes the subject off himself, “Have you worked here long?”
“Around two years.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s retail,” You reply dryly, “I think it is the same everywhere.”
The corners of his lips turn up for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Seonghwa turns his attention back to the pile of clothes, folding them swiftly. You watch the way his long fingers smooth out the fabric before expertly folding it. Every movement of his seems to be precise and completely under control, a far cry from yourself.
“Are you settling in okay then?” You ask, trying to wiggle more information out of this professional handsome guy who for some reason is working at this shitty store instead of modeling overseas somewhere.
He carefully folds another shirt while replying, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Have you always lived here?” Another deflection. It’s growing obvious Seonghwa doesn’t want to talk about himself.
“Yeah, I have. It’s really nothing special though. Pretty generic place.” You study his face while asking the next question, “Why did you pick here?”
Without missing a beat, he goes, “It was convenient. What do you like the most about living here?”
You find his answer curious but decide asking Seonghwa questions is pointless because he only swiftly tries to put the conversation back on you.
Stumped by his question, mostly because nothing really comes to mind, you finally settle on, “The weather is alright.”
He tilts his face in your direction at your answer, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s it?”
You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”
His gaze is heavy on you, a beat too long before turning his attention back to folding the clothes. You swallow hard, wondering why you feel so unnerved. As beautiful as Seonghwa is, he has the sort of intense presence that knocks you a little off balance, almost as if he can see some part of yourself that most people cannot.
“Alright, finished.” His voice brings you back to the moment as he picks up the clothing, “Do I just put them back now?”
“Yup, that’s it. Do you want me to help you?”
“No, I got it. I should start learning where everything goes,” He turns to go and then stops, looking over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no biggie. You can pop over again if you have any other questions.”
He smiles again, exposing the most perfect teeth you’ve ever seen. “Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.”
You give him a small wave, turning around to head back to your section, wondering why you feel so thrown off balance over someone you’ve known for ten minutes.
*
“So, how is he?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” San says, leaning closer to you, “The new guy.”
You’re in the break room, poking at the unappealing lunch you brought. The break room is covered in tacky motivational posters, a bulletin board filled with random flyers about things like worker safety, requesting time off and a garage sale ad. A small TV in the corner shows the local news. The image, as usual, is extra grainy due to the bad signal off the cheap antenna. There is no break from the harsh fluorescents even in this room.
“You saw him, didn’t you?” He presses.
You relent and reply with a casual, “Yeah, I saw him.”
“And? What’s he like? Is he hotter than me?”
Another noncommittal shrug. “He’s…different. He’s friendly, don’t get me wrong, but he seems distant. I guess he moved here from a town nearby. That’s all I know about him.” San is staring at you with a serious expression on his face. You shift uncomfortably in the hard chair, finally glaring at him. “What?”
He points at you sternly. “You do think he’s fine.”
“What?” You bluster. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
San gestures wildly. “It’s written all over your face! We talk about every new hire in detail and now suddenly, you give me a couple of sentences. What spell did he cast on you?”
“No spell,” You say crossly, irritated at somehow being too obvious when believing you played it cool, “You’re caring too much about my opinion.”
He slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, pouting. With a sigh, you push your meal away and turn to face him.
“Come on, dude. You’re giving a new hire way too much power. Everyone knows you’re all that and a bag of chips. You think the confused old ladies who still don’t understand what a cordless phone is are not gonna be charmed by you? That they’re suddenly going to head to the men’s department instead?”
“They tip me, you know,” San says defensively, “That’s why it’s important to me. They give me a couple of bucks when I finish explaining what a portable CD player is compared to their 8 track.”
You skirt around the fact it is against company police to take cash tips from customers, opting to continue reassuring him instead. “Don’t give someone else so much power. I mean, look at the size of your arms. No one in the store can compare with that.”
“That’s true,” He says begrudgingly, “Fine. And I’ll give the new guy a shot only cuz you think he’s fly.”
“I don’t – will you stop –” You sputter.
San stands up, snatching his work vest off the table and slipping it back on. “Alright, I’m going. Talk to you later.”
You say bye, now alone in the break room. Normally, you relish the quiet moments here without a coworker talking your ear off. But you’re longing for a pointless discussion, some sort of distraction from the fact that you’ve spent ten minutes around Seonghwa and are seemingly attracted to him.
You’ve fallen into such a routine between work, occasionally going out on the weekends, and watching TV that suddenly finding someone hot is like an electric bolt to your chest. Things have been quiet for so long, in both your mind and life, that the last thing you want to deal with is forming an attraction to a coworker.
Luckily, Seonghwa seems intent to keep mostly to himself. The emotional distance should help, you think, should make it easier not to get swept up in some guy.
Wednesday, October 8th, 1997
Once it hits 4pm, all you care about is punching out and getting home. You’re so wrapped up in this that when you turn around to dart out of the back room, you collide immediately into Seonghwa.
It’s like striking a wall. Even though he’s slender, his body is firm, resulting in you ungracefully flailing for a moment. His hands go to your upper arms to steady you, allowing yourself to recover from toppling back against the wall.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re embarrassed by being so spaced out.
Seonghwa, who you have successfully avoided all day, doesn’t seem to be impacted by the collision. He’s still in his work vest but today he’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt. His hands rest on your upper arms and your eyes drop to his fingers, taking note of how they look against the fabric of your clothing.
He clears his throat gently, a mild noise of embarrassment, before dropping his hands back to his sides. “No, I should have let you know I was behind you. My shift is done too so I was just punching out.”
You shuffle to the side, letting Seonghwa finish up. Your heart is beating quickly in that annoying way you’ve been trying to avoid since your last relationship. You should just say goodbye now and head out. But your feet refuse to obey and you find yourself lingering to walk out with Seonghwa.
After shaking out of his work vest and tossing it unceremoniously into his locker, he leans against it, watching as you fumble with your own lock.
“How was your day?”
“Uh, it was alright. What about you? You settling in okay with everything?” You successfully open your locker, shoving your own work vest in there and grabbing your bag.
Turning to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, your eyes unintentionally flick down to his torso. His long sleeve shirt fits him a little too well, is a little too snug, and you’re now acutely aware of his small waist on top of the fact he’s definitely in shape.
“Yeah, it’s going well. A bit disorganized but it’s fine.”
The two of you are leaving the backroom together, cutting through the electronics section. San is milling around in front of a display of Tamagotchis which is already half empty. He glances up and notices you, waving.
“Hey,” He goes, “Oh, you’re the new guy, right?”
You’re secretly hoping San doesn’t embarrass you. Even though you denied thinking Seonghwa is attractive yesterday, you know that San doesn’t believe you for a second.
Seonghwa introduces himself and then glances at the display. “These things go fast, don’t they?”
“Tell me about it. I end up having to restock the display every shift,” San replies disgruntled, “I don’t get it. An electronic pet?”
“I had a Tamagotchi,” Seonghwa muses, “It kept beeping while I was sleeping so I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it.”
“What happened to it?” San asks.
“It died,” He replies seriously, “I felt pretty guilty.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” San says just as grimly.
You glance between the two men and their bonding moment over a dead Tamagotchi before clasping your hands together. “Okay, well, this has been truly touching but I don’t wanna miss my bus. See you tomorrow, San.”
As you turn to leave, you hear Seonghwa mumble a quick goodbye before catching up with you. “You take the bus to work?”
“Yeah, no car.”
“I can drop you off at your place if you’d like.”
You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t even know if I’m completely out of your way or not. We could live on opposite sides of one another. On top of that, how familiar are you with the town? You got a map in your car or something to help you get home afterwards?”
Seonghwa looks perplexed. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”
The doors glide open as you step out into the late afternoon air. The temperature has dropped since this morning, a chilly bite that cuts through your t-shirt. Seonghwa had the right idea with the long sleeve, you think. Feeling flustered by his invitation to drive you home, you stop walking and turn to face him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my account.”
“I get that,” He replies, a wind kicking up and blowing some of his hair into his eyes which he impatiently brushes back, “But I really don’t mind. I need to learn where everything is anyway.”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the urge just to agree. Logically, you should just take the bus home. If you’re trying to steadfastly ignore the fact that Seonghwa is attractive then obviously being in his car will not help things. But on the other hand, being alone with him also sounds too good.
“Alright, fine. But if you get lost, I warned you.”
He smiles and you can feel it in your chest. Following him to his car, which looks as though it has seen better days, you get into the passenger seat and toss your bag on the floor, looking around. A pair of small dice swing off the rearview mirror, the only decoration in the car. There is nothing else to learn about Seonghwa in here – the car is neat, clean and smells nice.
He stretches out his long legs in his seat, starting the car. You are trying very hard not to stare at him, not notice how smooth his skin is nor how his muscles pull against his long sleeve shirt.
You open your mouth to tell him your address when suddenly Wannabe by the Spice Girls begins to blare out of his car speakers. Startled into silence, you can only watch as Seonghwa looks mortified, quickly slamming his hand down onto the eject button which spits the CD out of the player in his car dashboard.
He grabs the CD swiftly while going, “Uh, I didn’t know – I forgot – ‘’
“Seonghwa, it’s fine,” You reassure him, “It would be stranger at this point if you didn’t own that CD.”
He turns his body to grab something off the back seat, plopping the CD holder into his lap. Quickly, he opens it, flips to a random page with a spot available and hastily shoves the disc inside before closing the big binder of albums. Seonghwa seems to collect himself after a second or two, returning the binder to the backseat and quietly clearing his throat while turning on the radio. Sunday Morning by No Doubt quietly fills the car.
“Alright,” He says, neatly skirting around the Spice Girls incident, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel, “Help me get to your place.”
You give him a couple of directions and soon enough Seonghwa is on a main road. You make a mental note to eventually Map Quest some stuff for him later so he can learn the town layout faster.
Wanting to fill the silence before your brain gets swept up in the mental image of sitting in his lap, you go, “Are you excited for Halloween? Hopefully we don’t get stuck working late.”
“Do you usually do something for Halloween?”
Of course he deflects immediately. You should have known better than to ask Seonghwa a question about himself. “Sometimes. Last year I went to a party but it was a total buzzkill. I don’t know what I’m doing this year.”
“Do you like horror movies?”
“They’re okay. Do you?”
“Yeah, I like them.” Wow, finally an answer out of him! Progress.
“Oh, wait, turn right at this light,” You say as Seonghwa shifts into the other lane.
At the red light, he looks out the side window and says, “So far, this is near my own place. Maybe we don’t live too far away from each other.”
“Maybe.” Did you dare ask another question? “Do you live alone?”
Seonghwa hesitates for a moment and then replies, “Yeah, I do. What about you?”
You spare an extra second to study his face. Every interaction with Seonghwa, while friendly enough, gives you the feeling that he is constantly holding back in some respect. Aspects of himself are carefully hidden, making you wonder what he is like behind the perfectly pleasant façade he shows at work.
“Yeah. Do you like living alone?”
“It’s a little different than what I am used to,” Seonghwa says carefully, glancing at you for a moment.
You point to a road ahead. “You can turn down here.” After he does so, you ask, “What are you used to?”
Seonghwa’s hands tighten around the wheel. You get the sense he is struggling to answer, torn between talking about himself and staying private.
“Listen, Seonghwa,” You begin, “I get the sense you really don’t like talking about yourself. That’s fine. I don’t want to come off all ‘hey, tell me your life story’ and shit. I know we just met.”
There is another red light and the car stops. Seonghwa tilts his face to look at you. You’re struck again by how handsome you find him and how his intense gaze startles you into silence.
“It has nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to seem so closed off.” He turns his attention back to the road, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before saying, “I moved here because my girlfriend and I broke up recently. I’m not used to living alone because I lived with her.”
“Oh,” You mumble as the light turns green, feeling awkward, “I didn’t mean to – I mean…”
“It’s okay,” He reassures you, his attention back on the road, “I’m a private person but I don’t want to come off rude.”
Quietly, you point out the next turn. It doesn’t take long to stop at the small apartment complex you’ve lived in the past year. Grabbing your bag, anxious to get out of the car after fumbling straight into making Seonghwa feel as if he needed to explain himself, you stop just in time to remember he might not know how to get to his own place.
“I can figure it out,” He claims while you rummage in your bag for a stray sheet of paper and pen.
“No, no, you were nice enough to drop me off. What’s your address?” After he says it, you scribble down rough directions that he can follow and thrust the paper in his direction. “Here, this should help.”
When he takes the paper from you, his fingers brush against yours. Your breath catches at the small touch.
“Listen, I meant what I said,” Seonghwa says, “You don’t need to feel bad.”
“Yeah but I didn’t want you to talk about anything negative like a breakup. That is way uncool of me. It isn’t any of my business why you moved here or who you live with.”
“True but I also don’t wanna come off like a jerk.”
“You weren’t, I just…” You’re struggling to find a safe sentence to land on. How did you not say that you wanted to learn more about him because you were immediately attracted and therefore curious? “Wanted to be friendly. Since we work together.”
“We’re chilling, don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to your door, at least.”
“You don’t need to do that,” You protest even though your heart skips a beat.
“I don’t mind.”
You know that you’re probably supposed to refuse again until Seonghwa relents and even though you still have anxiety from the misstep of having him open up about his past, your desire to be around him for longer wins out. You nod in acceptance, getting out of the car and rubbing your arms in the cold air, reminding yourself to bring a hoodie tomorrow.
Seonghwa circles around the car, waiting for you to shuffle over. The apartment complex isn’t anything special, just two floors and a run down looking pool in the middle that is currently closed for fall and winter. You lead him up to the second floor, stopping in front of your apartment. Seonghwa is peering over the railing to look at the pool. Some of his black hair falls in front of his eyes. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants to keep them warm. Your eyes drop to his slender waist and you swallow hard. Everything about this man seems to have been specially created to drive you up the wall.
“You ever use the pool?”
“Not really. Why, do you like swimming?”
“I do. My apartment complex doesn’t have a pool though.”
Without thinking, you offer, “Well, when the pool reopens, you can come here.”
He looks over at you, something flickering across his eyes quickly. Straightening up, he nods, giving you a small smile. “Alright, that sounds sweet.”
Shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, you go, “Well…thanks again for the ride. Try not to get lost on the way home. Do you work tomorrow?”
“I do.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Seonghwa lingers for a moment. Once again, you get the feeling he is restraining from doing or saying something that might expose too much of himself. It is a curious thing, you think, especially given that you just assumed the whole ex-girlfriend thing is why he was being so reserved. Maybe that’s just him as a person though. Just really private and constantly filtering his behavior through a thousand nets.
“Alright, talk to you later.”
“See you later, alligator,” You reply and immediately chastised yourself for ending on such a corny line.
Seonghwa turns around, walking back towards the staircase. You trace the curve of his shoulders underneath his shirt, getting a brief mental image of your hands flat against the top of them while you’re under his body. Shaking your head to fend off the fantasy, you turn away.
He’s probably incredibly boring in bed. He’s an attractive guy but he’s so mild mannered and pleasant in an easily digestible way. Why get distracted into some annoying crush when the end result won’t be worth it?
Thursday, October 9th, 1997
“Wassup?” San plops down in the chair next to yours while gesturing at the TV. “You watch this?”
Once again, it is mid-afternoon in the break room. You’re eating lunch, staring at the grainy image on the TV that is showing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad for the new episode on Monday night.
“No, do you?”
“Nah but Yeosang records it every week to watch.”
Yeosang is San’s roommate. That information doesn’t really surprise you seeing as he also watches The X-Files religiously.
“Well, I bet he will enjoy this episode,” You squint, looking at the ad closer, “About a gigantic reptile thing in a frat house.”
It is at that moment that Seonghwa steps into the break room. He is wearing a short sleeve black shirt today along with the ugly blue vest and a pair of black jeans. San waves when he enters.
“Hey, dude. Are you on break?”
“Yeah, I am.”
San kicks out the chair on the other side of you, motioning to it. “Wanna chill with us?” When Seonghwa isn’t looking, he winks at you. You fight the urge to punch his shoulder.
Seonghwa nods, stopping to get something out of the fridge before settling in next to you. He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Your cheeks feel warm so you turn your attention back to your sandwich but you can still feel his gaze.
“Damn, I wanna see this,” San interrupts whatever the hell was passing in between Seonghwa and yourself.
“I think the title is kinda goofy though,” Seonghwa remarks.
“You don’t like I Know What You Did Last Summer? I think it sounds a little mysterious. You know, it’s by the same writer as Scream,” San nudges you, “What do you think?”
“I think I haven’t seen Scream so that sentence means nothing to me.”
“Whoa, what, you haven’t seen Scream?” Seonghwa’s attention is back on you, “The sequel comes out soon. You should watch it. It’s really good.”
Slightly desperate for something new to discuss with Seonghwa that didn’t involve asking questions leading to awkward moments, you leap at this opportunity. “Alright. I guess I can see if Blockbuster has it.”
San scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve been asking you to watch Scream for months – ow!” He winces as your foot collides with his shin under the table.
Seonghwa frowns. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” San wheezes, “I always forget about the metal bar under the table. Just whacked my leg against it.”
“He’s fine,” You say quickly, shooting daggers at him.
Seonghwa tilts his body in your direction and goes, “I own Scream. I can bring the VHS tape tomorrow if you’re also working.”
“I don’t have a day off until Sunday so I’ll be here. But are you sure? I don’t want you to lend me anything…”
“Yeah, it’s okay. Don’t go to Blockbuster. I always do and then forget and end up owing them an annoying amount of late fees.”
San has quickly forgotten the shin kicking incident and nods in agreement. “He’s right. Avoid it if you can.”
“I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“Okay, well, thanks.”
“Hey, when you’re done watching it, can I borrow it? Yeosang still hasn’t seen it either,” San goes, “He’s so bad at watching movies.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem,” Seonghwa replies, “I’m still unpacking but I know where it is.”
“Great, thanks dude,” San exclaims before turning his attention back to the TV.
San says something else but you don’t really hear him because Seonghwa is still looking at you. Even though Seonghwa is friendly yet distant, your body seems to react to him in a way that takes you by surprise every time you’re close. It’s the warmth of his body so near combined with his toned arms and perfect skin. The effect is slightly dizzying. Toss in the fact you haven’t had a crush on someone since your last relationship ended three years ago, you are struggling between thinking his personality doesn’t match up with yours and wanting to throw yourself at him. The entire thing is confusing.
Seonghwa’s lips are slightly parted as if he was going to say more but falls silent while staring at you. There is something brewing in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. It’s intense and your stomach swoops as if leaping off a cliff. His hand presses down hard against his knee to steady himself. He suddenly looks away towards the window, cutting the moment short.
You’re breathless, wondering what the hell that had been about. The way Seonghwa looked at you mingling with the feeling that he was reigning himself in, closing something off – you don’t know what to make of it. Could it be he also is attracted to you and is trying to hide it? In all your interactions with him, he’s been kind and considerate but nothing indicated he saw you in a physical way.
You force yourself into focusing on whatever San is saying, trying to push all the swirling emotions out of your mind.
Friday, October 10th, 1997
You sigh, plopping down on your bed, stretching out. Work today was a chore but Seonghwa had given you his copy of Scream. With San bothering you to watch it quickly so he could let Yeosang borrow it, you figured you’d just watch it tonight before going to sleep.
Leaning over the side of your bed, you rummage through your bag until your fingers feel the edge of the VHS tape. Pulling it out, you gaze at the cover for a few seconds, lost in thought. You’re thinking about how Seonghwa looked today right before his shift ended. You were on your break and he was at the lockers, tugging a hoodie over his head. His white shirt lifted up so slightly that if you hadn’t been already staring at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the quick glimpse of a few inches of hard abdomen. That was enough to send your body into overdrive, something you still hadn’t calmed down from when he came over to hand you the Scream VHS.
“Thanks,” You mumbled quickly, hoping that he didn’t have the ability to read your mind.
“Not a problem. You can just give it to San as soon as you’re done with it. I’m not in any hurry to get it back.”
He gave you that same easy going smile, the type of smile that made you wonder what he would be like if his kind demeanor cracked and he had you pushed against a wall with his lips against your neck.
“Right, yeah, cool.” You said in what you hoped was a casual tone.
When he turned around to leave, your eyes lingered on his waist before turning your attention back to your food, the VHS tape in your lap like a heavy weight.
Dragging yourself back to the present moment, you pull the tape out of the sleeve, finding it a bit curious there isn’t a sticker with the movie name on it. You wiggle to the edge of your bed, shoving the tape into the player. There are a few seconds of VHS tracking and then the picture pops into view.
You’re staring at a palm tree against a blue sky, slightly out of focus. The tape goes grainy for a moment and then the camera swoops downward. Someone’s face comes into view, filling up the lens before their hand pushes the camera away while they are laughing.
Uh, okay, this is not what I thought the movie was gonna look like, you think while squinting at the TV.
“Can you get the camera out of my face?” comes a familiar voice.
“Stop, you love when the camera is on,” A woman replies coyly.
The shot snaps into focus then, showing Seonghwa against a wall. He is wearing a sleeveless white and blue striped shirt, his black hair ruffling in the wind. The sight of him is like a punch to your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. His smile is bright, completely different from the ones you’ve seen at work. It is unguarded. Even his posture is relaxed with none of the slightly stiff professional nature he has at work.
Entranced, you can only stare as the scene continues. Seonghwa runs his long fingers through his hair, his smile turning into a grin.
“So do you,” He counters.
You can hear the sound of ocean waves just off screen. He turns his face to the side, the camera lingering on this for a moment before it lowers for a second, showing a wooden pathway. It cuts suddenly, immediately shifting into another scene.
Seonghwa is standing on the beach now, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the blanket that is on the sand. You didn’t think it was possible to see him look so comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t seem to be shy at all, staring at the camera with a challenging look on his face. On top of that, the sight of Seonghwa shirtless is bowling you over. He is toned, tanned and has muscles you want to press your hands against.
“What?” He goes.
“Nothing,” The woman says, “I can’t film you getting into the water?”
“You’re just filming me undressing.”
“Well, it’s not the first time, is it?”
He rolls his eyes but there is a good natured expression on his face. He shoves his thumbs into his swim trunks, tugging them down half an inch before exploding into laughter and turning around, jogging towards the water.
Another cut. New scene. This has to be him and his ex. I need to turn this off. It’s obviously not meant for me.
Seonghwa is sitting at a table in a diner, looking over a menu. He raises his eyes, making eye contact with the camera then he laughs again. He looks relaxed, his smile bright and posture resting comfortably against the booth.
“You look wicked good tonight,” The woman remarks and Seonghwa playfully shakes the menu in her direction.
“Good thing you’re getting it on camera, right?”
“Exactly.” She zooms in a little more. “Do you want to tell the imaginary audience what we’ll be filming later?”
“Oh, well, I think the imaginary audience knows by now what we like to film,” He says with a mock seriousness that makes your heart constrict. “Isn’t that right?”
The woman giggles and the scene cuts suddenly. This time the camera is in a bedroom with the lens focusing on Seonghwa once again. He is shirtless, close to the camera.
“You gonna keep it on while I fuck you?” He says in a low voice.
The woman doesn’t reply, just giggles.
Seonghwa’s eyes drop for a moment before locking back onto the camera. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face – a combination of lust and reveling in the fact the entire thing is being filmed. It is as if the exterior you’ve seen on him since he began to work at the store is all bullshit, a lie in which he hides behind, and you’re seeing him for real now through the lens.
“Maybe I’ll film you when my cock is down your throat,” He continues, “You want that?”
The woman titters again before going, “Yeah, I want that.”
Seonghwa grins, moving back a little so that his entire body is in view. The low light makes it difficult to fully make him out but you can see the curve of his shoulders, the stiffness against the fabric of his boxers, and the way he motions for her to come closer.
“Then give me the camera and get on your knees,” He says sternly while lowering one hand towards his boxers, starting to pull them down –
The sight of Seonghwa about to expose himself finally snaps you out of your shock. Quickly, you lean over and smash the eject button on the tape, yanking it out of the machine and dropping it to the floor as if it is going to burn you.
You stare at it, breathless, your mind spinning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that tape was going to lead. After all, people still talked about the tape of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee; it had been covered in media for months and was still often a topic of conversation.
You are aware Seonghwa just moved and the tape must be misplaced. Do you tell him? Do you just pretend you watched Scream and not mention it? But San wanted to borrow the copy as well. Obviously, he couldn’t get his hands on it. You could lie and say the tape didn’t play. But the excuse wouldn’t work because Seonghwa would try it on his own player and realize what was really on it. You could pretend you lost the tape and destroy it. But that also didn’t seem right. It wasn’t your tape, after all, and eventually Seonghwa could put the pieces together and believe you kept the tape to watch or worse. It felt as if the only choice would be to come clean to Seonghwa and let him know he accidentally gave you the wrong tape.
On the other side of things, you couldn’t believe how different Seonghwa was on camera. There was such a relaxed, casual demeanor to him. He seemed more at ease in front of the lens than in reality. For the first time since meeting him, it felt that you truly saw him. The quiet confidence, no hint of shyness in the way he spoke or removed his clothes. On top of that, his body was absolutely banging in a way that made your thighs clench and hands bunch up in your blanket.
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You think about that moment in the break room when Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy on yours and his hand gripped his knee. The little bit of his true personality coming through before being shoved back down, perhaps? Just an hour ago, you thought everything about Seonghwa had been figured out. Not anymore.
Your mind flashes back to his smile and the expression on his face while the camera filmed. Unguarded. Exposed. Hiding behind nothing and leaving everything, including sex, on a VHS tape.
What would such a thing be like? A small voice in your head wonders.
Saturday, October 11th, 1997
“Hey, good morning.”
You jump out of your skin, slamming your locker door shut and turning to see Seonghwa standing there.
“Hi, Seonghwa! How’s it hanging?!” You exclaim loudly with such false cheer that you inwardly wince.
Seonghwa outwardly winces. “You’re at an excitement level I can’t quite reach given we are at work.”
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You make a garbled noise in response, eyes darting all over the place. You can’t stare at Seonghwa’s face because then you think of his unguarded smile. You can’t stare at his chest because then the mental image of his abs pops into view. You can’t even look at his small waist, something that had been giving you great pleasure to sneak glances at during the week, because you’re picturing the way he was tugging down his boxers.
“Are you…uh…feeling alright?”
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” You say quickly, “Tired.”
His eyes move to your locker and he gestures to it. “Oh, did you watch Scream?”
Your head turns sharply. The VHS tape is poking out of the top of your bag. You stammer out a collection of gibberish, stalling for time. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now; you had been picturing it after work, maybe in his car or something. Not in the break room before it hits ten in the morning.
Seonghwa looks perplexed once again. You don’t blame him.
Finally, you settle on, “I would really like to discuss the tape with you.”
His features brighten. “Yeah, sure.”
“After work?”
Confusion once again but he slowly replies, “Alright.”
You scurry past him, shouting your goodbye while exiting the room and hurrying to the women’s department. Seonghwa’s smile from the tape is still blazing across your brain in vivid colour and no matter how much you try not to think about it, you can still see the lascivious look in his eyes as he began to remove his boxers.
You’ll tell him after work, you think desperately, even though it will be mortifying and he most likely will never speak to you again.
As long as you get through this shift without losing your cool, everything should be fine. Just don’t think about him on the tape. Don’t think about him having sex and recording it. Don’t think about how relaxed he looked. Don’t think about how sexy his body looked.
Should be simple.
*
You manage to avoid Seonghwa the entire day, including an awkward moment where you wedged yourself into a clothing rack as he walked by. You were worried about blurting out what was on the tape in the middle of his work shift or even worse – admitting that you were curious about how he filmed himself doing such things and how it felt to let go with a camera on. In quiet moments when a customer wasn’t bothering you, your mind travels back to him like an overplayed record.
You have a difficult time wrapping your head around the Seonghwa on the tape and the Seonghwa in reality. Always polite, yet distant, always kind but professional, in the few days you’ve known him, you’ve bounced between wanting him physically and believing his personality would keep a deeper connection from potentially forming.
But on the tape, you viewed Seonghwa as to how he truly is. There is no façade when the camera is on him. You see him unfiltered. The hint of mischief in his smile, that sense of freedom when he was jogging towards the waves, his quiet confidence when he was talking dirty – why were such things hidden in his day to day life?
By the time the end of your shift comes, you are anxious to get the tape and tell Seonghwa you need to talk. Since you were finishing shifts at the same time, you figured you’d wait for him in the break room. It is a little past seven by the time you enter. The break room has a couple of employees milling around but not San, who snuck out an hour earlier in order to hit up the club with Wooyoung.
Standing in front of your locker, you reach for the lock but as your fingers graze the cold metal, you realize with a jolt it is unlocked. With a small sigh, you realize San must have opened it earlier. You had a bottle of ibuprofen in your locker that he would use occasionally and eventually gave him your locker combination so he would stop bothering you.
But as you reach for your bag, your eyes narrow. Heart thudding, you rummage around in it with growing panic. The VHS tape isn’t in the bag. The tape isn’t in the bag.
“What the fuck?” You hiss in between your teeth, your heart plummeting.
You are about to upend the bag onto the floor when Seonghwa’s voice cuts through. “Hey, finishing up too?”
Surprised, you jump, flattening your back against the locker, clutching the bag against your chest. “Seonghwa! Hey! Hi!”
“Lots of enthusiasm for work today,” He notes, removing his work vest. His slender fingers twist the dial on his locker. You stare at them, momentarily transfixed. He glances at you. “What?”
“Nothing. No, that’s a lie. Seonghwa, I seem to have misplaced the tape.”
“Oh, Scream? Nah, San came to me earlier and said he noticed it was in your locker. I told him you watched it and he grabbed it before he left to give to his roommate. He said he was cutting out early to head to the club or something. Yeosang…that’s his roommate, right? San mentioned that Yeosang was gonna watch it with him and everyone else later tonight.”
Every word out of his mouth, every word tumbling out of his beautifully plush lips, makes you want to sink into the planet’s core. The panic that had been wiggling in your brain while looking for the tape is now washing over your body like a cold wave.
You picture Yeosang, whom you have only met briefly before, hitting play on the video. A room filled with his friends plus San and Wooyoung. The video starting, them seeing Seonghwa. How long would they let the tape run? Probably to where you ejected it. Enough for them to know what is on that tape, enough for them to know what Seonghwa does for fun.
You drop your bag to the floor in shock, reaching out for Seonghwa. Your hand grips the front of his sweater. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Seonghwa,” You say in a choked voice.
He looks a bit flustered, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if anyone else is seeing this. “H-hey, I…” He swallows hard. “I…”
“Seonghwa, that movie isn’t on the tape.”
His nerves, possibly because he thought you were literally throwing yourself at him during work, are now washed away in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Scream is not on that tape. It’s…something else,” You steel yourself, plunging forward, “It’s a home video. Of you and your ex.”
The colour immediately drains from Seonghwa’s face. Your grip loosens on his shirt, watching as he goes through a myriad of facial expressions before settling on something that looks blandly neutral. You’re amazed at how quickly he collects himself.
“I didn’t watch it,” You say hurriedly, talking a mile a minute, “Well, I watched like 3 or 4 minutes but then it was starting to get a little….anyway, I shut it off then. I was going to tell you. I brought it back today so I could tell you after work. I just didn’t think San was going…okay, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll page him. He’ll know to call here, right? I’ll just page him.”
Seonghwa takes a slow deep breath. You can’t tell if he wants to scream, cry, or punch something. His calm demeanor does nothing to relax your own nerves. You don’t know what he is thinking. You go back to digging through your bag, pulling out the tiny phone number and address book you keep in there. Quickly, you head to the break room phone, yanking it off the receiver while flipping through the book to find San’s beeper number. You page him, hurriedly inputting the phone number of the store before hanging up.
“Okay, we’ll just wait here for a few minutes. He’ll call back.”
You aren’t sure if Seonghwa heard you. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing in the same exact spot, his back to you.
“Uh…Seonghwa?” You say tentatively. “Are you freaking out?”
He turns around then, his features still amazingly collected in an extremely calm appearance. “Do you know where San lives?”
“Where he lives? Yeah, I do. Oh, you want to go there?” You glance at the clock. “Yeah, I mean, it might be too early for him to be at the club. But shouldn’t we wait in case he calls?”
“No,” He says curtly, “You’ll come with me and show me where his place is.”
“Oh – oh, okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
You can hardly keep up with Seonghwa’s long strides, scampering behind him as you exit the store and into the chilly weather. Tightening the hoodie you’ve managed to shove yourself into while following him, you get in his car silently. Even though Seonghwa is amazingly calm, you can tell he is on edge. The veneer he portrays to the world is on thin ice and you can almost feel the roiling tension under his skin. He starts the car and the radio plays softly.
Pulling out of the parking spot, Seonghwa gets to the exit and grunts, “Tell me how to get to his place.”
“Okay,” You say, adding on, “You’ll take a left at the light,” You hesitate before going, “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’’
His hands tighten on the wheel, the only indication of his stress. “It isn’t your fault. I should have checked the tape before I gave it to you. Due to my move and breakup, things are all over the place. I don’t even know how it ended up in the Scream case.”
“Even so, I should have turned it off immediately. I just…” What do you even say? I was entranced by how different you were on camera. I’m deeply attracted to you and I want to get to know the version of you that was on the tape. I’m curious about what you do for fun. Maybe a little too intrigued for my own good.
“It’s fine,” Seonghwa interrupts you swiftly, “I really don’t want to discuss the tape while this is on.” He gestures to the radio which is currently playing Supermodel (You Better Work). “Just a little too ridiculous for me right now.”
You fall silent, the words tumbling around in your chest. “A right up here,” You mumble after a couple of minutes.
You know it is a morally grey area to keep thinking about Seonghwa in the bedroom, talking openly about getting his dick sucked and filming it. You know it’s wrong to wonder what the rest of the tape looked like. Your curiosity feels like a mark against your moral code.
Fifteen minutes later, you have pulled up to the apartment complex that San resides in. Getting out of the car, you study the building, trying to remember what number his apartment is.
“The door,” Seonghwa points, “You don’t happen to have a key to get into the foyer, do you?”
“No. I guess we can buzz and see if anyone answers. But I…I can’t remember his apartment number.”
He looks at you swiftly. “Please try to remember.” You can tell it is taking him great effort to keep his voice even and not start shaking you.
But you’ve only been here a couple of times so nothing appears in your head. Seonghwa takes off towards the door, giving you no choice but to follow. He stands in front of the door, looking around to see the chances of someone coming by so he could slink in after them.
“You remember it yet?”
“No, sorry.”
He turns to the set of apartment numbers written out across the buzzers and randomly hits one. No answer. He presses another one.
“Is this your plan?” You ask.
“Yes,” He replies calmly.
“What are you going to do if someone answers?”
“Lie.”
You aren’t sure what to say. This is yet another new side of Seonghwa, one driven by the desperation of someone seeing the tape and finding out what he’s really like.
On the fourth buzz, someone gruffly goes, “Who is it?” The speaker crackles.
“Hi, I live a few places down from you and forgot my key,” Seonghwa says smoothly, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just wanted to get buzzed in real quick.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The door clicks open and the speaker goes silent.
Seonghwa grabs the door handle, shooting you a look as he holds it open. You slip past him into the entrance of the building. Once you stand in the foyer, staring at the row of small mailboxes, the apartment number bounces back into your brain.
“It’s #1117!” You declare, happy at your brain’s ability to recall such a fact.
“Great, let’s go,” Seonghwa says while walking towards the elevator, pressing the button.
The foyer is silent as the two of you wait for the elevator to come down. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little, your nerves getting the best of you. You’re worried about Seonghwa, you’re worried about someone seeing that tape and his secret getting out and you’re still dealing with the fact your mind won’t drop mental images that it shouldn’t be thinking about.
In the elevator, Seonghwa exhales slowly. It is the only sign of tension brewing in him. You marvel at how calm and collected he is. If you were in this situation, there would be no chance of being in control. You’re barely in control of your emotions now, dealing with something that technically would have no impact on your life.
The doors glide open and Seonghwa marches down the quiet hallway. His steps are muffled against the carpet, coming to a stop in front of San and Yeosang’s apartment. He rings the doorbell but there is no reply. He tries again. Nothing.
“Maybe they really have gone to the club already,” You suggest.
In response, Seonghwa bangs his fist against the door before resting his hand against the wood, closing his eyes. You can feel the energy crackling off him, just like that moment in the break room the other day - that same sensation of him wrangling himself under control, shoving his real self into a small box and tying it up with a bow.
“Do you know what club they go to?”
“Yeah. It’s nearby.”
“Let’s go.” He turns around to return to the elevator.
“Wait,” You hurry after Seonghwa, “We’re just going to go to the club and what?”
“Ask where the tape is. If it’s in the apartment, I’m going to ask for San to get it for me. If he still has it on him, I’ll just ask for it back.”
“How are you going to explain why you need it so badly without…you know.”
The elevator arrives and he steps inside. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”
You stand next to him, feeling the warmth off his body. He’s wearing a form fitting white sweater today due to the temperature and you cannot help but notice how it lays across his chest. His black jeans are also snug against his slender waist. It is difficult to look at him and not picture the images of him on the beach and in the bedroom. Cheeks getting warm, you stare steadfastly ahead at the elevator doors, which finally open to release you from the ever growing tension.
Back outside, Seonghwa is hurriedly walking back to the car. The sun has fully dipped below the horizon now, the last strands of dying daylight long gone. You cross your arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of your hoodie.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively as he reaches the car, “Do you wanna talk about it now? Since Rupaul isn’t playing, I mean.”
“I really don’t.”
“I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”
His hand, hovering over the handle of the car door, drops back to his side. His eyes are on you, focused in a way they haven’t been since the news of the tape landing in San’s hands were uttered to him. You suddenly feel exposed.
Seonghwa crosses the small gap in a couple of seconds, looking at you intensely. “What do you want to talk about exactly? You want to discuss something, surely, and I don’t think that it is about your apology.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” You mumble quickly, balking at the way his eyes tear through your defenses.
“You want to know more about the tape? You want to know what I do in my spare time?”
“N-no!” You lie, “No, I just didn’t want this to mess up anything between us.”
Seonghwa shakes his head, pulling away from you and exhaling slowly before he loses his cool. “There isn’t time to sit and chat about everything. Can you please just get in the car and tell me where this club San goes to is?”
You nod silently and Seonghwa turns around, getting into the car. Rooted to the spot for a moment, your heart thrumming in your chest, you try to ignore that little voice in your head – a voice entirely new, one that you don’t know what to do with.
What if you stopped getting yourself back in control, Seonghwa? What would that look like? I want to see what it looks like. I want to see what the real you is and I want to keep pressing against that exterior until it cracks.
You’ve never dealt with such a desire before. It is as if a giant dog is tugging you along on a leash and you can’t pull it back. You can dig your heels against the pavement, yank on the leash and beg for the dog to stop but it doesn’t work. The little voice in your head, the centre of your curiosity about Seonghwa mixed with your attraction to him, is a dangerous thing.
Perhaps it isn’t just Seonghwa who is always struggling to remain cool, calm and collected in every situation. Maybe you’re not so different from him.
*
Twenty minutes later, Seonghwa is parking at the club San frequents. The place is crowded with a line snaking around the outside of the building. Seonghwa stares at the line quietly after turning off the car. You know what he is thinking – time is important and he isn’t going to waste it waiting in a long line with the risk of the bouncer saying no. His fingers are curled lightly around the steering wheel, his brows furrowed together in concentration.
“What’s the plan? You gonna gank someone’s VIP pass?” You joke lightly.
He shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and opening it. His fingers glide across the bills inside as he counts them quickly before looking in your direction. “How much cash do you have on you?”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you back,” Seonghwa says impatiently, “We’re just going to bribe the bouncer and skip the line.”
“Is – is that allowed?”
“No.”
“Oh. Uhm,” You fish your wallet out of your bag. “I have a hundred bucks.”
“Great, and I have two hundred,” He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you.
“Wait, we’re going to give the bouncer three hundred dollars?” You ask incredulously.
“No, we’re going to start with a hundred and go from there,” Seonghwa explains, “They might be content with that. Your money is last resort.” When you hesitate, he sighs. “I told you, I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back immediately. I’ll pay you back tonight. As soon as I get the tape. Don’t start wiggin out on me now.”
“I am not wiggin out,” You say defensively, “I just have never bribed someone before.”
“Technically, I’m bribing. You’re merely watching.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, an awkward silence settles across the car. Seonghwa neatly averts his gaze, pretending to be fascinated with the money in his wallet. You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the tape.
You thrust the money at him which he takes with a mumbled thanks before getting out of the car. You look down at your hoodie and work pants, unable to recall if this place has a dress code or not. Probably, given the long line. You sigh, opening the car door and trailing after Seonghwa.
He stops at one point, looking over his shoulder at you. “Are you comfortable pretending we’re on a date?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to bribe the bouncer under the guise that I’m trying to impress you. Can I put my arm around you when we get up there? I won’t do anything else.”
“How do you come up with this shit?” You say without thinking, “The entire night, you just seamlessly come up with these ideas and lies and stories.” Every interaction we’ve had before tonight has been pleasant and normal to the point where I thought you were attractive but a little boring, is what you don’t add on to the sentence, and now I’m seeing all sorts of sides to you I never thought lurked inside.
Seonghwa ignores the question, instead asking one of his own. “Are you comfortable with me putting my arm around your waist?”
“Yeah, fine,” You mumble although the idea of him touching your body is making your skin warm.
“Alright. Try not to look so nervous.”
Seonghwa walks towards the club with a confidence you cannot hope to possibly mimic. Gone is the easy going attitude he carries at work. Instead, he acts as though he owns the place and is merely popping by to give it a look. His arm circles around your waist as the bouncer comes into view. You can hear people complaining about him cutting the line but Seonghwa doesn’t pay them any attention.
His arm around your waist is distracting in an agonizing way. Every nerve in your body has awakened to him and the desire is dizzying. As you approach the bouncer, Seonghwa nods his head in the man’s direction, extending his hand outward and slipping the hundred dollars in his palm.
“How’s it hangin?” Seonghwa asks casually, pulling you closer against him.
The bouncer glances quickly down at the money and replies evenly, “Could be better.”
Another hundred dollars is given and the bouncer pretends to study his clipboard and nods, moving to the side. “You’re on the list. Have a good night.”
Seonghwa nods, guiding you past him and into the club. On the way in, he brings his lips close to your ear and murmurs, “See? Didn’t even need your cash.”
You’re feeling slightly in awe of the Seonghwa on display tonight – gone is the fake work personality, just someone tackling the situation at hand in whatever way would work best even if it included lying. His arm is still around your waist, his body angled at a slight slant as he leads you through the crowd of people and onto the main dance floor.
The music is loud, cramming your skull immediately as a crush of people squeeze against Seonghwa and yourself. The flickering lights dance over Seonghwa’s hair as his grip tightens on your waist so the two of you don’t get separated. He pulls you along until he finds an alcove, releasing his hold and facing you.
“Do you know where they’d be?” He shouts.
“The dance floor! San always talks about dancing a lot when he’s here!” You yell back.
Seonghwa scowls. “I fucking hate clubs!”
Your hand reaches for his, pulling him out of the alcove and towards the main dance floor while This Is Your Night blasts so loudly that you can feel it vibrate along your bones. Wiggling through the vast swarm of people, you successfully make your way to the main dance floor. It is impossible to find San in the crush of people. Seonghwa tugs on your hand, getting your attention while pointing to a large staircase leading to the second floor.
You nod and he takes the lead, quickly lost in a sea of gauzy club clothes in colours that could cause someone’s retinas to bleed, seeing more cleavage and mini dresses than you thought possible in one space. Your hoodie and work pants and lack of high heels have you receiving a few confused glances as Seonghwa works his way through the crowd.
Of course, you also notice that Seonghwa is attracting a lot of attention in his own way. No one seems to care that his outfit isn’t club attire in the same way they cared about yours. While making your way up the stairs, you can hear giggles follow as people check Seonghwa out. This sparks an intense irritation in your chest for reasons you can’t fully explain.
Standing on one of the stairs, you gaze out across the dance floor, squinting to try to spot San or Wooyoung. Someone bangs into your side, cursing at you standing there. Seonghwa turns around sharply, glowering at the woman with such an intensity that she scampers up the rest of the stairs, wobbling on her strappy sandals with huge heels. His hand is on your lower back protectively.
“We are standing right on the stairs,” You shout at him.
“I don’t care,” He says crossly, “They can move around us. The staircase is huge.”
Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on yours and for a few seconds, time seems to stretch out. The music becomes background noise, his hand against your back, his body facing yours. He has one strand of hair that has come out of place, betraying his inner turmoil that he has been attempting to hide all night.
You bring your hand upwards, pushing his hair back into place before you can stop yourself. He reaches for you, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your breath catches, thrown off by his touch and the intensity of his stare. For a brief second, you think it is finally going to happen – the fissures that have formed in Seonghwa’s carefully constructed polite personality are going to shatter –
But then, over his shoulder, you spot San weaving his way away from the bar, holding two drinks over his head, heading towards a small table where Wooyoung is.
“I found them!” You exclaim and the moment passes as Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he spots San.
He swiftly turns around to head back down the stairs, holding onto your hand again. His impatience is exposed through the way he practically shoves his way through the crowd. The time the grumbles are not of admiration but of annoyance. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to care.
San’s eyes widen when he spots you and one eyebrow raises at the sight of Seonghwa holding your hand. Suddenly embarrassed, you pull your hand away from him although Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice. He’s on a mission and only one thing is on his mind.
The print on San’s shirt defies logic and reasoning, distantly reminding you of a Taco Bell you stepped into a few weeks ago. Paired with even more colourful pants, you are unsure how it took this long to spot him in the crowd.
“What are you two doing here?” San exclaims loudly.
Without preamble, Seonghwa goes, “I need the Scream tape back.”
“You came all this way for that?” He asks confused.
Wooyoung slides out of the small booth he was occupying, plucking the drink out of San’s hand. Tonight, he’s wearing a nylon dark pink button up with three of the buttons undone, exposing his tanned chest. His pants are so tight that you aren’t sure how he even got into them.
Wooyoung waves at you and goes, “Who is your friend?”
“New coworker,” San exclaims over the music before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Yeosang when I got home and he took it with him when he left.”
Seonghwa’s hands flex at his sides, a motion only you notice. “Where is he?”
“I think he’s out with Mingi and Jongho tonight. They were gonna watch the movie at Mingi’s place. We were going to meet them there later.”
“Where is he now?” Seonghwa grinds out between clenched teeth.
San is picking up on the tension, glancing at you but your expression gives nothing away. “Is everything alright? Why do you need the tape back so badly?”
“I’ll explain later. I just need it back tonight,” Seonghwa replies.
Wooyoung, who has been silent this entire conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two men, throws his arm around San’s shoulders while pointing at Seonghwa, still holding his drink. “Who is this guy? I like him. He gets right to the point. He’s very money, you know what I mean?”
You interrupt quickly. “It’s to do with me, San. Please don’t ask any questions.”
It’s a lie, of course, but you know San will respect your request. You can feel Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you for a second.
“Yeah, it’s no problem. I don’t mean to be pushy. Yeosang is at the minigolf course. The one with the big wizard in the middle, you know it?”
“I do, yeah. Thanks for the help.”
“It’s all good,” San replies.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna hang?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, “We’re just getting started here.”
“I appreciate the offer but we gotta bounce. Nice meeting you.” Seonghwa is already turning away, eyes darting towards the exit.
You give the two men a small wave and then it is back to being smushed in the crowd, wiggling through the writhing bodies as the music pulsates around you. You’re walking behind Seonghwa, his hand searching for yours so the two of you don’t get separated. Your fingers curl around his and you find yourself studying the curve of his neck, the way his shoulders look in his sweater. From this angle, you can just make out the muscles underneath the tight fabric.
Seonghwa glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re alright. You can’t read his gaze; something shifts behind it, ever changing and unfolding. In that moment, it feels as if you’ve known him forever, in a thousand different locations across a thousand different universes.
Back into the night air, Seonghwa turns to face you. “Do you know what minigolf course San was talking about?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Great, come on.” He takes off across the parking lot towards the car. His back is illuminated by the neon from the sign of the club, dousing him in a bright blue that his hair soaks up.
You follow, catching up with him as Seonghwa asks, “What are you gonna tell San when he asks why you needed the tape?”
“I don’t know. I just said that because I knew he would drop it.”
“Well, you bought us time,” He remarks, opening the door to the car, “Tell me how to get to the minigolf course.”
Back in the passenger seat, you can still feel the tension rolling off Seonghwa. Unable to help yourself, you try to reassure him. “We’ll find Yeosang there. I’m sure he will have the tape on him. It’s nearby too.”
Seonghwa brushes off your words. “Just tell me how to get there.”
*
It takes fifteen minutes to get to the minigolf course. A large garish wizard hat juts out of the centre of the course, covered in purple lights to make it glow. There is an assortment of other tacky objects sticking upwards – palm trees, a poorly made replica of the leaning tower of Pisa, a UFO that used to rotate five years ago but has since broken down and not been repaired.
Seonghwa gazes at the sight through the windshield, clearly assessing the situation before getting out of the car. You take off after him, fighting the urge to grab his hand. It made sense in the club, not here.
As you approach the entrance, the sound of top 40 radio plays loudly over speakers. Seonghwa bypasses the ticket booth completely, instead opting to head directly onto the course. But a bored looking employee glances up from the magazine he’s reading and gets to his feet quickly.
“Whoa, hey there, homeslice. I need to see the ticket.” He extends his hand out to Seonghwa.
“I’m not playing,” He says quickly, “I just am getting something from a friend.”
“Sure, I can just let anyone pass by without a ticket,” The man rolls his eyes, “No ticket, no entrance.”
“It’ll take less than five minutes,” Seonghwa protests, the agitation at being so close and so far starting to get to him.
You hover by his side and quietly go, “Seonghwa, let’s just go buy a ticket.”
“I don’t want to buy a ticket. The ticket is for playing minigolf and I’m not playing,” He grinds out, staring at the attendant, “So, just let me in.”
The attendant, who is stuck wearing an ugly polyester blue button up, looks positively thrilled at finally having something interesting happening. “No can do, dude,” He says gleefully.
You grab Seonghwa’s upper arm, briefly distracted by the firm muscles underneath, before carting him away from the entrance. While gesturing to the ticket booth, you go, “Let’s just buy a ticket. Do you really wanna throw down with the guy working the minigolf course? We won’t get to Yeosang that way.”
“I don’t care,” He says stubbornly, “He’s being an asshole.”
Your irritation gets the best of you. “If you could wrangle your repressed anger under control for two seconds –”
“My what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Seonghwa. The entire night, you’ve been furious at me and just won’t say it. So, you just shove everything down and ignore it and pretend you’re so calm and collected but you’re not –”
Seonghwa takes a step towards you. His demeanor is icy cold now. “Not everything is about you,” He replies in a tone that could frost over a window, “As much as you want it to be.”
Your eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“If I’ve been repressing anger all night, you’ve been holding back too. The multiple attempts to steer the conversation back to how sorry you are, how you found the tape, how little you watched of it.” Another step closer, close enough to touch now. “Why don’t you stop bullshitting and just admit you wanna ask me questions about the tape and what I do in my spare time?”
You hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Seonghwa striking the centre of your heart with his accusation makes your breath catch. You can’t bring yourself to reply.
“The tape not only has me on it but also my ex. It violates her privacy for anyone else to see it, not just mine. That’s the most important thing going on right now, not you having some sort of sexual awakening at seeing a few minutes of it.”
You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, knowing Seonghwa is correct but also feeling exposed at the same time. He stalks off past you, going towards the ticket booth. The employee at the entrance is gawking at the two of you although he didn’t hear anything said.
“You and your boyfriend are pretty intense,” He says over the din of top forty music.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” You mumble, looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa is smiling casually at the person working the ticket booth. All earlier signs of irritation are wiped clean from his beautiful face. He is chatting as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Was I really that obvious? Or is he just that good at reading people? You are embarrassed but manage to make your facial expression look as placid as possible when Seonghwa returns to you.
“Ready?” He asks as if the two of you hadn’t just been at each other’s throats a couple of minutes ago.
After you nod, Seonghwa thrusts the tickets at the attendant who takes them in an over the top gesture and tacks on, “Have a good night!”
Entering the minigolf course, you stop to grab one of the little putters. Seonghwa notices and drawls, “Really?”
You hand it off to him. “Yes, really. You wanna blend in or look like the weird guy stalking across a golf course?”
He takes it, holding it daintily with his long fingers while studying it. “You were right. About the ticket. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
You’re holding your own putter now, staring at him. “I know. I wouldn’t think clearly in your situation either.”
Seonghwa looks at you for a long moment. You get the sense he wants to say more but he gives a small shake of his head, turning his attention back to the course. “Come on. We’ll just start at the first hole and wander around until you spot them.”
The next ten minutes are spent navigating the busy course which includes a moment where Seonghwa ducks to avoid a little kid swinging the putter and another where you almost lose your footing and awkwardly trip off a tiny fake bridge. There are a few questioning glances shot in your direction as the two of you bypass playing completely while you try to spot Yeosang.
Finally, near the gigantic wizard hat, you spot him along with who you assume is Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang, in baggy jeans and an oversized green hoodie, looks to be talking very animatedly with a tall man who is wildly gesturing. The other man is watching them with an amused expression on his face as if it is a very funny TV show.
“There they are.” You nudge Seonghwa to get his attention. “Are you doing the talking or am I?”
“You start and I’ll follow. Yeosang is familiar with you and doesn’t know me.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
You cut across a particularly ugly ice cream cone that is the centre of hole number ten and call out Yeosang’s name. He looks up in surprise but waves when he sees you.
“Wassup? Didn’t know you like minigolfing,” He says as you and Seonghwa stop in front of the group. “Mingi and I were just having a disagreement about how many hits he took to get the ball in the hole.”
The tall man, who is dressed entirely in acid wash denim, protests. “It was four strokes. You’re saying five and that’s not true.”
The other guy, who must be Jongho, goes, “Can we please move on? I want to get an Icee.”
“In this temperature?” Mingi asks, momentarily distracted.
Jongho tugs on his long sleeve, wearing a plaid dress shirt with all the buttons undone, a black t-shirt underneath, topped off with a simple pair of jeans. “It isn’t that cold in this.”
Seonghwa, who is already radiating an intense energy that will be overflowing at any second, swiftly interrupts, “Sorry, but I was talking to San and he said you had the Scream tape?”
Yeosang nods. “Yeah, it’s in my bag. Oh! You must be the coworker he is borrowing it from?”
“That’s right. I just need to see it for a second please.”
“Sure,” He turns around, scooping his bag off the ground which it had been unceremoniously dumped on and pulls out the tape, handing it to Seonghwa. “There you go.”
“Thanks so much,” Seonghwa replies calmly.
He immediately pries his fingers into the slots and begins to unspool the tape, wildly tugging it out onto the ground. Everyone, including yourself, falls silent, watching as Seonghwa then drops the plastic shell onto the ground and begins to take the putter to it. His hair falls out of place as he beats the shit out of the VHS tape with the putter, the shell cracking from the sheer force at which he strikes it.
“This dude is wacked,” Mingi mumbles.
“I heard Scream was a good movie,” Jongho says, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Guess we won’t find out now,” Yeosang replies dryly, “I suppose we’re watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tonight.”
Seonghwa exhales, his cheeks puffing out while doing so, tossing the putter to the ground while scooping up the remains of the VHS tape. He runs his fingers through his hair although it doesn’t fix it.
“Thanks guys. Have a good night.” Seonghwa says as if he just didn’t go postal in the middle of the minigolf course.
He glances at you before taking off back the way he came. You give an apologetic look at Yeosang, unsure what to say and settling on nothing. Following Seonghwa, who is still holding onto what little of the tape remained, with the cheery pop music playing over the sound of laughter and people talking, you aren’t sure if speaking right now would help him. Does he need comfort? Is he relieved? He showed no hesitation in destroying the tape immediately. Had that been his plan the entire night?
Luckily for the attendant working the entrance, the exit loops around the other side of the course, taking you both into the parking lot before Seonghwa can start bickering with him again. He drops the pieces of the plastic casing into the nearest trash can although he is still holding the film, wrapping it carefully around his slender fingers.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively and he stops, looking over at you.
In the lights of the parking lot, Seonghwa is a slim figure with his black hair glowing. His breathing is slightly uneven, his features not nearly as collected as they’ve been all night. There is something raw wiggling underneath the surface of his composure, something you desperately want to touch.
“I’ll take you back to your place now,” He says roughly, “Come on.”
You don’t know what to reply with so you merely nod. A few minutes later, the car is pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. You quietly tell Seonghwa how to get to your apartment from here. The tape is in his lap, the film nestled like a snake in between his thighs. You wonder what he will do with it. Set it on fire, maybe. He seems intent on destroying it completely. You understand why but still feel a pain of regret in your chest. There would be no viewing the rest of the tape now.
You suddenly feel very tired. Between work and the entire events of the sex tape, you’re ready to crawl in bed and sleep in tomorrow. You lean back in the seat, staring idly out the window. The radio is playing music quietly and Seonghwa doesn’t say a word. You still get the sense he is wrangling himself in. Does he do that all the time? Why bother? Why shield yourself from people to the extent he does? You see his smile from the tape in your mind once again. To your surprise, you feel a spark of jealousy buried in your chest. His ex got to see the real Seonghwa while you’ve been seeing his façade. You want to know him like that. You want to touch him like that.
The silent admission to yourself is unsettling. It’s been ages since you’ve wanted someone. Your attraction to Seonghwa earlier this week seems easier to digest when you thought your personalities wouldn’t be compatible. But his words outside the minigolf course were correct – those few minutes of him on your TV screen are making something deep inside you stir.
The streetlights swim lazily across Seonghwa as he drives silently. They blend in with his white sweater before appearing on his tanned skin, small pools of light that travel over his body before eventually being lost behind the car.
When he parks at your apartment complex, he goes, “I’ll walk you to your door.”
This time, you don’t refuse. Back into the cold air, you stop at the outskirts of the pool near the staircase to the second floor.
“Seonghwa,” You say again, your hand resting against the cold metal of the banister, “Now that you got the tape, and everything is sorted out, I really –”
“Don’t,” He says swiftly, “You’re going to apologize again. It isn’t your fault. I already told you that.”
“I know what you said,” You are two steps up on the staircase, looking slightly down at Seonghwa, whose hand is inches from yours on the banister, “But outside of the golf course…”
“Was I too harsh?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re pretending all the time,” You say after a beat of silence, “When I met you earlier this week, you were pleasant enough. But it’s obvious that isn’t what you’re really like. Just the few minutes of the tape showed that to me. And I’ve caught it once or twice before, at work, when you are obviously shoving your real self back down. Throughout tonight, I’ve seen glimpses of who you actually are – the quick lying, the flashes of irritation, your nerves at someone seeing the tape…I just don’t understand why you hide it everywhere but on a VHS tape.”
There. You said what you’ve been thinking the whole night. Seonghwa’s face doesn’t change the entire time you speak. But you aren’t fooled by it anymore.
Seonghwa places his feet on the first step of the staircase. He’s extremely close to you now; his body’s warmth seeps into your skin. You fight the urge to place your hands against his chest to pull on his sweater so that he will kiss you.
You aren’t sure what his reply was going to be but you aren’t prepared for the way his voice drops to almost a murmur. “You’re really intrigued about the tape, aren’t you? I wonder what makes you so curious. It is the idea of letting the camera see all of you for who you truly are? Is it just the idea of fucking and recording it that you find so compelling? Maybe both.”
You’ve gone still, frozen in surprise at the words leaving his mouth. He leans forward, his lips so close to your ear that your heart skips a beat. “Do you regret turning the tape off when you did? Your conscience prevailed; you did the morally right thing in a few minutes. Others would have watched the entire thing. But some part of you wishes it kept it running so you could watch me fuck my ex, listen to what we talked about. You know, I was so focused on getting rid of the tape, I don’t even know what one this one contains. We filmed so many,” He lingers on the last word as your brain fills up with mental images of tape after tape of Seonghwa, “What happened in the first few minutes of the tape?”
Shakily, you manage to whisper, “You were on a beach. And then in a diner. Finally, a hotel room.”
You don’t see Seonghwa smile but you can feel it, like an arrow in the dark, so fast that the sensation is gone in a second. “The vacation tape,” He pauses and continues, “I prefer being on film. Being seen. I feel comfortable and at ease. The camera misses nothing. The lens cuts through everything. All the noise and the bullshit. It isn’t about watching it back later. It isn’t about sharing it. I fill a tape, shove it in the collection. Destroy them when the relationship ends. Rinse and repeat. It’s about capturing that one moment and putting it on film. Everything when the camera isn’t on feels like bullshit. I feel like bullshit.”
“Why?”
Seonghwa shakes his head. “Dunno. Just always have. I only exist when the camera is on. Otherwise, I can’t be myself. Been that way forever. I’ll ask you again – did you regret turning the tape off?”
It doesn’t even enter your mind to lie. “Yes.”
“You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?”
Your body is growing hot all over. You wish Seonghwa would touch you. His hand is so close to yours that you would settle for him just to brush his fingers against your skin.
“Yes,” You whisper so quietly that if he weren’t so close to you, it would have been impossible to hear. You aren’t even sure what question you’re answering. Maybe it is both.
But Seonghwa pulls away abruptly then. With his warmth gone, it feels like a hole has opened in your chest. He runs his fingers through his hair but you take note of the slightly uneven way he is breathing. You want to grab him, see him for who he really is with no pretenses, have the camera lens on his body while he –
“I need to get home. I won’t be able to relax until I finish destroying the film,” His eyes trail along your body quickly and it feels deeply personal to have Seonghwa look at you in such a manner, “Goodnight.”
You don’t want him to go. You want him to follow you to your apartment and fuck you silly. But he turns around and in a couple of seconds, he has rounded the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your desires and the briefest glimmer of the man Seonghwa truly is.
Monday, October 13th, 1997
“You gonna explain why Seonghwa opened up a can of whoop-ass on a VHS tape in the middle of a minigolf course on Saturday night or am I not privy to that information?”
You stifle a groan, unable to duck and dodge San any longer. You had yesterday off, which didn’t end up being as fun as it sounded, due to the fact all you did was lay in bed running the events of Saturday night over and over in your head.
And you still hadn’t come up with any sort of realistic story to tell San about the tape especially since Seonghwa had opted to destroy it with a minigolf putter.
“It’s complicated,” You finally settle on.
San’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Complicated? Should I be concerned about your little work crush? Could he be a little…unwell?”
“He’s not unwell,” You say defensively, “It’s just complicated. Can you just drop it, please? It was his tape, after all.”
“Just makes no sense. You said the situation had to do with you. But why did Seonghwa go postal on the tape like that?”
You’re starting to get a headache. You’ve had way too much coffee before coming into work and your nerves are frazzled between the idea of seeing Seonghwa and how much time you’ve spent analyzing his words to you Saturday night before he left. Yes you told him on the staircase, yes you wanted to watch the entire tape, yes you wanted to see him have sex with his ex and yes, you wanted to be on film with him. A jarring admission, one that you’re still grappling with.
“San, my break ended a few minutes ago. Just please, for the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to drop the entire thing.”
He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Fine. Consider it dropped. However, it is not forgotten.”
“I’ll take it, thanks,” You reply, heading quickly to the exit. “Listen, I’ll help you with inventory sometime this week, okay?”
“You’re just sucking up to me.”
“Yes, but you hate inventory,” You fire back over your shoulder.
“I do so I’ll accept it!” He calls after you.
Back in the store, you meander your way towards to the women’s clothing department. Part of you is desperate to run into Seonghwa while the other part is dreading it. What do you even say to him? Just a simple hello? How can you look him in the face knowing his entire personality is carefully curated bullshit to hide who he really is? How can you talk to him after what he said to you last night? How can you hold a conversation when you are so desperate to have him?
You end up avoiding the shortcut through the men’s clothing section. Even so, your eyes carefully scan the area for any sight of him among the racks of ugly dresses and t-shirts. Once you’re safely in the dressing rooms, reorganizing and cleaning out the mess people leave behind, you relax slightly.
You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?
Seonghwa’s words bang around in your brain no matter how much you try to push them away. Even as you go through the motions of work, your mind lingers on how warm his body was so close to yours on the stairs, the low timber of his voice in your ear, and how he saw through you and all your pretenses.
In fact, you’re so swept up in work and your thoughts, that you don’t realize Seonghwa is in the dressing room area until he says your name. Flinching in surprise, you look over your shoulder.
He stands there in his blue work vest, his arms so full of clothes that it looks like they could spill onto the floor at any second. Seonghwa’s face is beautifully impassive. You get the sense he has also been avoiding you.
“Wanted to drop off all the women’s clothes that ended up in the men’s dressing rooms before my shift ends,” He explains in a clipped tone.
“Right. Thanks.” You move closer, trying to take the clothes from him.
But there is simply too much and a good portion falls onto the floor. Your hands brush against his in the mess of fabric, sending your heart racing so quickly that it almost makes your chest hurt. Seonghwa is staring at you through his long lashes although his eyes dart away when yours meet his.
You manage to wrangle a good chunk of the clothes away, tossing it onto the small table at the end of the hallway that you use to organize them. “You can just dump the rest here.”
Seonghwa does so and then an awkward silence settles across the empty dressing rooms. The store closes in ten minutes. You didn’t think you’d be seeing Seonghwa at all today. We filmed so many he had whispered, teasing you with the mental images of whatever lurked on those tapes.
“Do you want any help?” He offers.
“I got it, thanks,” You say quickly, knowing the longer he stands next to you, the higher chance there is at the conversation going sideways.
His fingers are touching one of the t-shirts, his expression unfocused. “I wanted to apologize.”
You hesitate and then go, “For what?”
“I was pretty…intense Saturday night. I also talked to you out of line at the end there,” He swallows, staring at the pile of clothes as if they were a fascinating creature, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
You feel stuck. It would be simpler to accept the apology and put the entire thing in the past. But a much larger part of you has shifted since discovering what Seonghwa is really like, brought to life by his words and the images on the tape, growing louder every passing moment. It is difficult to ignore these new feelings inside your chest.
“It’s all good. It was a stressful situation. I think it would make anyone start trippin although San is asking questions and I have nothing to tell him. It is a little harder to come up with a story when you…beat the shit out of the tape in front of everyone.”
“Yeah,” He looks at you sheepishly. “I lost my cool for a sec.”
“Cracked your pleasant exterior there,” You joke quietly.
His lips twist up into a smile for a brief second. You’re feeling hot all over, knowing it would be far easier just to let the conversation stop here. Easier to return to the way things were before the tape. Let Seonghwa be a work crush and nothing else.
“But, uhm,” You pick up a shirt, carefully folding it so that you don’t have to look at him, “I didn’t mind how you talked to me. At the end of the night.”
Seonghwa’s breathing changes slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed a few days ago. But it is as if viewing the tape, learning about who he is and spending Saturday night with him has synced you up to Seonghwa in a new way.
“Is that right?” He finally replies, his voice even and without emotion.
“Yeah, I’ve been…thinking about what you said,” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.
Seonghwa moves ever so slightly closer to you. Relief swoops through your body at his close proximity. “What about it?” He murmurs.
You take in a small breath and go, “I was thinking about asking you to come over. Tomorrow night.”
He hesitates for a small second. “To your place?”
“Yeah. I mean. If you’d want.” You are a mixture of anxiety and desire.
But you push through it to look at Seonghwa’s face. You recognize the expression this time – he is teying to maintain his calm exterior, aware that he is at work and in a public setting.
“Should I bring anything?” He asks in a forced nonchalant voice.
Your grip tightens on the shirt. After spending all day trying to dodge Seonghwa, you can’t believe how you’re cracking after a couple of minutes around him. But perhaps avoiding him was your own way of denying what you wanted.
“Maybe your camera,” You say with forced casualness.
But the words seem to crack Seonghwa. He moves closer to you, just as close as the time on the staircase. In a strangled voice, he goes, “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
Surprised, you exclaim, “What? No, not at all.”
His hand reaches out for you but then thinks better of it. Falling back to his side, he flexes his fingers. His voice drops to a whisper. “I work a closing tomorrow but I’ll come over afterwards.”
You’re done work at five tomorrow which gives you plenty of time to get ready for…whatever you’re getting into. Seonghwa’s gaze is heavy, his energy buzzing. You want to push him, crack him open fully so that you can experience what he is like without any barriers…and maybe you want the same thing for yourself too. You want to know what it would be like being stripped away of all things you carefully hide behind without even realizing it. You just didn’t know that such a thing was so desired until you saw Seonghwa on that tape.
You nod, wanting to say more but nerves getting the best of you. He pulls away, trying to control his breathing. There is a slight flush of colour creeping up his neck. You get a vivid mental image of being on top of him, your hands against his chest, taking him fully inside you –
Quickly, you look away, afraid your thoughts might be all over your face. Seonghwa wishes you a goodnight, leaving the dressing rooms quickly before the energy crackles and explodes, spilling out into work.
He works so hard to keep everything separate, after all.
Tuesday, October 14th, 1997
You’re looking out the window of the living room, staring at the unremarkable view. The neon of the Taco Bell sign washes over the street, bathing the cars in the bright colour for a second or two as they drive by. You can just make out the interior, a swirl of pink, blue and purple, like a little lighthouse in the night.
You don’t think you’ve never felt so nervous staring at Taco Bell before.
It’s past ten which means Seonghwa will be here in about twenty minutes. Having invited him on a whim, driven by a combination of lust and curiosity, you’re now dealing with the reality of what you suggested. In asking him to bring his camera, you’ve basically admitted to him and yourself that you want to see what filming together would be like. And while you’re aware that you can change your mind and tell him to forget it once he arrives, the truth of the matter is that you don’t want to do such a thing.
Your attraction to Seonghwa has only been heightened since seeing the tape, and your own sexual exploration seemed to be spilling out of you with a mighty need. As nervous as you feel, you also have no interest in denying it any longer.
You aren’t sure how long you stare out the window, spacing out, but a soft knock at the door startles your thoughts away. Exhaling slowly, you cross the small living room, opening the front door to see Seonghwa standing there.
He’s wearing a very colourful button up tucked into a pair of blue jeans. A bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is a little messy from the chilly wind. Your heart skips a beat violently at the sight of him.
“Hey. Oh, uh, come in,” You say awkwardly, moving to the side as Seonghwa walks past, “How was work?”
“Fine, the usual. You know how it is. I like your place.”
You blink. “Really? I don’t think it’s anything exciting.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t say it was exciting. I just like how comfortable it looks.”
“Thanks. How are you doing with unpacking your own place?”
Seonghwa places the bag on the coffee table while replying, “Besides the mishap with the tape, it has been uneventful.”
He speaks of the tape so candidly now although given the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?
“Did you and your ex live together long?” It no longer felt awkward to mention his last relationship – so much is different now with Seonghwa.
“We did although that seemed to be our undoing. Only lasted a few months after we moved in together,” He replies while turning to face you. “For the sake of honesty, I haven’t been with anyone else since my relationship ended. Does that bother you?”
“No because I haven’t either. I find those things…distracting. I just was focusing on work and other things in my life.”
“Am I a distraction?”
“What?”
He repeats himself.
Your cheeks grow warm. “I mean – technically, yes.”
Seonghwa is fighting off a smile. You can tell by the way he tilts his face away from your direction to look at your TV.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You offer.
“Just some water is fine, thanks.”
“Alright. Uh, please sit down. Don’t feel like you need to stand there.”
You scamper out of the living room, wishing your nerves would settle. Now that he is here, you feel scattered. Your attraction to him has grown tenfold in the last few days and you can’t remember the last time you’ve wanted someone this much.
Returning with a couple of glasses of water, you sit down next to Seonghwa on the couch. Desperate to fill the silence, you turn on the TV, immediately blasted with a Surge ad.
“Listen,” Seonghwa says after a few minutes, “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I don’t want you to think I went into anything with expectations.”
Hurriedly, you reply, “I know that.”
“I understand you’re curious because the concept is new to you. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be into it.”
You turn to face him, your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction.
“I am curious,” You say quickly, “And I don’t really understand why. I’ve never thought about something like that until I saw those few minutes of the tape. And I…” You swallow, feeling shy. “Well, I only think about it with you. I was attracted to you right away but…you seemed so…nice. As if there wasn’t a lot going on underneath the surface. So, I assumed the attraction would never deepen. But after I saw the tape…I felt like I saw you.”
“And?” He prompts.
“And I was intrigued. At you. At the idea of filming stuff like that. The idea of a camera around, catching all these private moments. I started realizing how much you pull yourself under control, how you’re wearing a mask all the time.”
“Everyone wears a mask in public. Most people just don’t realize it.”
“You think I’m realizing it now then?”
“Maybe. I don’t want to speak over your feelings or pretend I know what you’re thinking of. But yes, you’re right about me. I struggle with being vulnerable, being myself. I always switch into this false personality. I don’t even mean to do it.”
“But you don’t do it while recording.”
“That’s right. Something about seeing that little red light on switches it off.”
“And what about…” Your shyness deepens.
“Filming myself having sex?” After you nod, Seonghwa goes, “It just turns me on. Makes sex better. Makes me more relaxed. In that moment of filming, I feel free. Capturing those moments of pleasure…it feels crucial to my enjoyment.”
“Has everyone you’ve been dating into it too?”
“After I realized how much I like it, yeah. When the relationship ends, I destroy all the tapes. Just out of respect. Recording it isn’t really about watching it back anyway. It’s just about that moment of filming the intimacy of it.”
You fall silent, battling more questions and your ever growing desire for Seonghwa. He turns his attention back to the TV, although you get the feeling he really isn’t engrossed in the episode of NYPD Blue playing. Your eyes land on the large bag he brought.
Could you record yourself sleeping with Seonghwa? Knowing that moment would be captured on a tape with him? It’s all you have been thinking about since discovering Seonghwa’s secret. But now that you can make it a reality, your nerves are still battling for dominance.
“Could I see it?” You ask suddenly, “The camera, I mean.”
“Sure,” He replies, leaning forward and pulling the bag towards him.
Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a large and chunky camcorder, resting it in his lap. He runs his fingers along the side where the spot for the tape opens while saying, “I was reading that they’re making these new cameras that are apparently a lot smaller and would be digital, if you could imagine such a thing. Would make filming a lot easier than this heavy thing.”
“So you don’t…hold it during…”
He laughs. “No. I just plop it down on a table or something during sex. But if the digital cameras end up truly becoming a thing, I suppose I could hold it during sex. Or you could,” He immediately realizes what he casually said and looks embarrassed. “Not that I meant – I don’t mean to assume that we would sleep together. Or you would be comfortable filming anything.”
You reach for the camera, grabbing it out of his lap and into your own, studying it. It isn’t as though it’s your first time holding such a thing but it has been a while. “How do you start recording?”
“You insert the tape and then press this button,” He leans closer, showing you where it is located.
You study his face, eyes lingering on his lips. “Where’s the tape?”
Seonghwa meets your gaze for a beat before moving away to retrieve it from the bag. He presses a button, the side popping out so he can insert the VHS tape. Snapping it shut, he says, “Then you can hit record. Each tape can roughly film for two hours.”
You hesitate for a moment before reaching for the camera. Your fingers touch his, an electric vibration that sparks along your skin. You can hear Seonghwa’s breath catch slightly but he relinquishes the camera. You look into the camera’s viewfinder while popping the cover off the lens.
You know what you want – Seonghwa and the exploration the recording will bring. Even though it is something you’ve never thought of until that moment you saw Seonghwa on your TV, with his beautiful smile, toned chest and low voice talking dirty, it seems to have awakened something deep inside you. Something that won’t rest, won’t stop, until you explore your desires.
You press down on the record button, making sure Seonghwa is in frame. You know he can see the red light, aware that you’re recording.
“Tell me about the first time you filmed yourself having sex,” You ask bluntly.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow although the chuckle he emits makes it clear he isn’t offended. “You interviewing me now?”
“A little.”
“It actually wasn’t my idea, if you can believe it. My girlfriend at the time brought it up to me one night after she noticed how much I liked recording home movies.”
“Did she notice how comfortable you seemed on camera?”
“Yeah, she did. It felt like a natural progression to me like oh, why hadn’t I thought of it? I was always trying to get in front of the camera ever since I can remember. But she was the first one to suggest taking it that far.”
“Were you nervous?”
“No.” Seonghwa looks relaxed now. The tension you hadn’t even realized he carried has now softened, his shoulders are lowered while he leans against the couch, still facing you. His hair grazes against his cheek from the angle. You catch yourself admiring his face, the slope of his nose, how his fingers rest in his lap. “No, I felt comfortable right away. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You ever think about filming yourself having sex before?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Not until my tape.”
“That’s right.”
“You like filming me?” He asks and after you nod, he goes, “This time, you don’t have to shut it off before it gets to the good part.”
“A little cocky now, don’t you think?”
He gives a casual shrug. This is the Seonghwa you saw on the TV – relaxed, confident, letting each emotion come easily without judgement. This is the Seonghwa you’ve wanted.
You lean back against the couch, the camera still recording in your lap while motioning to the front of the TV. “Why don’t you show me how comfortable you are in front of the camera?” You can hardly believe the words after you say them. I guess it isn’t just Seonghwa who shows new sides of himself to the camera.
But Seonghwa only grins at your request, getting up and standing in front of the TV. He pulls the colourful shirt from the confines of his jeans, his fingers swiftly undoing the buttons to expose a thin white tank top underneath. Your heart rate is already accelerating at the sight of the fabric resting against his taunt stomach.
“Is this what you wanted?” He teases and your thighs clench at the fact you’re hearing that tone of voice being used on you now.
“Don’t be coy.”
Another grin. Yes, Seonghwa is correct – that little red light on from the camera changes him entirely. He shrugs out of the shirt, exposing his shoulders before it falls to the floor. Wearing just the tank top now, he hooks his thumbs into the front of his jeans, staring at you with an expression that looks almost devious.
“What?” You say defensively.
His grin widens. “Nothing. You’re just obvious.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
You stand up, holding the heavy camera while ambling towards him. He reaches for the camera, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the top of the TV stand, giving the lens a view of your faces down to just under your shoulders.
After he finishes positioning the camera, Seonghwa turns his attention back to you. He is as close to your body as he was the other night on the stairs. Your breathing is uneven, aware of the camera on you, aware of everything you’ve been secretly thinking about is going to come to fruition.
“See?” He murmurs.
“What?”
Seonghwa smirks while running one finger down along your arm and your body shivers in response. “That. How much you want me.”
“Well, some of us aren’t experts at hiding ourselves all the time,” You counter.
His lips hover just above yours, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. Your body is screaming for Seonghwa, your brain buzzing with need, lips parted in anticipation.
There is no witty retort from him. Instead, Seonghwa kisses you. Softly at first, enough to shake the centre of you. His lips against yours makes you feel slightly delirious as if not realizing you were dying of thirst. The camera’s gaze remains steady on both of you while the kiss continues. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth so tenderly that your hands hold onto the band of his jeans to steady yourself.
Your whimper is muffled against the kiss, face warm, body responsive to this man you’ve only known for a week – and only truly known for a few days. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as yours circle around his small waist, pressing him against your body. He is stiff in his jeans but still his hands travel downward until they rest on your ass, squeezing it. The kiss continues, growing deeper, hungrier, breaking briefly so you can pull off his tank top.
You are pressing your hands against his hard stomach, running up along his chest until curling them around his shoulders, breathless at the sight of him. His skin is warm, inviting, and the sight of him in just his jeans is incredibly sexy.
Seonghwa brings his face to your neck, kissing along there while his grip on your ass tightens. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. The barriers of your clothing are becoming an annoyance now. You want more of him, you want all of him.
When you open your eyes, they land on the camera. A silent observer, missing nothing, no judgement to be found.
“Seonghwa,” You whisper and he stops, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes are hazy with lust, lips parted prettily. “Come with me to my room,” You pause for a second before adding, “And bring the camera.”
*
In your room, the camera is once again propped onto the top of the TV which gives it the perfect angle of the bed. When originally purchasing the second TV at a yard sale, a friend had questioned needing another one. Now, you’re grateful for it – where else would the camera filming the two of you go?
You are still fully dressed, something Seonghwa looks to rectify from the way he gently nudges you into view of the camera while he stands behind you.
His hands are on your waist, skittering upwards until your shirt is pulled off, tossed onto the nearby dresser. In just your bra and sweatpants now, acutely aware of the camera, your breathing grows uneven. Seonghwa’s hands continue to travel, now onto your bra, squeezing your breasts together. He is kissing along your neck once again, his lips a soft whisper along your skin.
He tugs down on the bra, exposing your tits not only to his hands but to the camera as well. The entire thing feels more intimate than any other sexual encounter you’ve had before; the camera adds to the feeling as strange as it sounds in your head.
Seonghwa’s hands are warm. He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples. You’re soaking wet, overwhelmed by the desire you’re experiencing for him. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching them a little, allowing the camera to take in the sight of him groping you like this.
You tilt your face in his direction and his lips find yours once again. You like how Seonghwa tastes in your mouth – it is familiar, almost as if you’ve kissed him before, kissed him a thousand times. When he pulls away, the look in his eyes is heavy, laced with lust and stripped away from any pretenses he usually carried so close to him.
You brush his hands away from your body, instead grabbing him by the waist band of his jeans, moving him closer to the camera on the top of the TV. Unbuttoning his jeans, you rub him through the denim, taking note of the way his breathing catches.
You lean towards the camera, moving it to the shelf underneath the TV, giving the lens a perfect view of you on your knees in front of Seonghwa. You look up at him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down until his boxers are exposed.
The camera can’t catch his facial expression but you can see it – the way he looks at you with his plump lips slightly parted, his eyes dancing across your hands down to your breasts. It isn’t just giving yourself over to him, it’s giving yourself over to the camera too.
Your hands rub against the bulge in his boxers, feeling the warmth through the fabric. Your hands dip into the band of his boxers, pulling it down until his cock springs free. Gently wrapping your hand around him, you bring your tongue across the head, sweeping across it once, twice, three times. Seonghwa exhales slowly while you begin to pump his cock, looking up at him. The camera’s gaze is steady on the two of you, the moment you take his length into your mouth captured on film.
Your tongue presses against the tip of his cock for a few seconds before taking more of him, filling your mouth with his length. Your other hand goes to his balls, fondling them while your tongue presses along the underside of his shaft.
Spurned on by the soft noises of pleasure that escape Seonghwa, you begin to bob on his cock. Sometimes, he pops out of your mouth, the tip of him a sticky sweet mess of your salvia and his precum. It glistens in the low lights before you take him once again, as much as you can. You enjoy the way he fills your mouth, stretches out your lips with his thickness.
Seonghwa’s eyes close, his head rolling back as a guttural groan topples from in between his pink lips before he curses sharply and pulls away. His cock slides out, precum smearing against your cheek.
With a small shake of his head, he goes, “I don’t wanna finish. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”
Seonghwa helps you up, scooping the camera off the shelf and back onto the top of the TV. This time he puts more care into the angle, asking you to sit on the bed while he looks through the viewfinder until he looks pleased with it.
“Look at you, big shot director,” You tease at one point.
He raises his eye from the viewfinder. “Hey, it’s your debut,” Seonghwa says gravely but the twinkle in his eyes makes it evident he’s joking. “Lay sideways on the bed for me, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You are still poking at him.
When he seems satisfied, Seonghwa circles back to the bed. He crawls up along your body, stopping to remove your sweatpants and underwear. You’re completely naked with him on camera now while his lips travel across your stomach, stopping at your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipples and he gently bites down on one, tugging on it with his teeth just to hear you gasp.
Seonghwa is skin to skin with you, not an inch in between your bodies as he finally kisses your lips. Your legs curl around his waist urgently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth until he groans in response.
It is simple to enter your pussy, having been wet for Seonghwa since he stepped foot inside your apartment. His length fills you swiftly until his hips touches yours. The next kiss is messy, a mixture of muffled moans and whimpers as Seonghwa goes still, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being filled with his cock.
His hands snake up along your arms, gently pinning your hands above your head, just at the edge of the mattress. Almost lazily, Seonghwa rocks his hips. The motion is small, just enough to send shocks of warmth and pleasure through your body. You groan out his name in a plea for him to move faster but he doesn’t obey.
“Sorry, my boo, but I’ve been thinking about this all week and I want to take my time,” Seonghwa declares, your hands entwined together, “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met, saw the disinterest flicker across your face when I drove you home the first time.” He moves his hips, pulling almost completely out of your hole. “And I went home that night and thought about inviting you over, teasing your body until you crumbled and begged for me.” He thrusts now, all the way back inside, until your hips meet once more and you gasp, your fingers curling around his for something to hold onto.
You can recall the memory, the way you mused that Seonghwa was too pleasant, too kind in that sort of neutral, placid way that meant even though he was beautiful, he faded to the background of your memory. But there is your side of things too…
“Your veneer isn’t perfect,” You counter with a small gasp when he rocks his hips again, “Maybe to others but not to me.”
“Is that right?” He growls.
Breathlessly, you explain, “I got the feeling multiple times you were holding back, hiding parts of yourself. You were so restrained all the time.” You remember the moment in the breakroom where he flattened his hand against his knee, wrangling himself under control. “But sometimes, I would see pieces. It made me want to crack those parts open, see you.”
Seonghwa is moving your legs now, sliding his arms under them so that they fold closer to your chest. He is still as near to you as he can get physically. But the angle change is intense and you grab the edge of the bed, gasping as he begins to pump his cock deeper into your cunt.
“And now?” He prompts but you can’t focus on the conversation anymore, not when his cock feels this good and he’s finally fucking you at a pace that only heightens the desire and pleasure. After your garbled moan, Seonghwa goes, “I’ll take that as your answer.”
Your eyes flutter open, the red light from the camera like a spotlight. This moment - captured either forever or until Seonghwa and you were to break apart. Tiny parts of yourself, combined with Seonghwa, in this intimate moment for the camera lens.
Your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around Seonghwa’s cock as your orgasm approaches. He keeps up the steady pace, the bed shaking with every thrust, your legs bouncing with each jerk of his hips. Your knuckles are white from clutching the edge of the bed, your bedsheets tangled around your fingers as Seonghwa pistons his cock into your wet cunt.
And then your orgasm begins, Seonghwa’s name a shattered piece of glass on the tip of your tongue as your hips meet his. The pleasure blots out everything; it is so exquisite that you lose yourself entirely to him.
Seonghwa pulls out, allowing you to stretch out your legs. “I want to fuck you from behind,” He says, his hands on your thighs, “Will you let me?”
You know that means facing the camera, allowing it to capture every expression on your face. You nod and Seonghwa helps you get into position on all fours, your ass in the air and hands pressed against the bed. He runs his hands over your ass before tugging you down a little, towards his cock.
“Seonghwa,” You say, looking over your shoulder at him. His hair is messy, his breathing rough, but all his protections over his personality are gone. He looks sexy, inviting, warm, all yours. “I want you to finish in me.”
He stops for a moment, glancing up at you before nodding. You turn back to the camera while he enters you once again. You gasp loudly – he feels much different from this angle and your eyes almost roll back into your head from how amazing it is. Seonghwa doesn’t stop this time. He immediately begins to pump and you curse roughly as his hips smack against yours.
One hand reaches for your hair, pulling it on it in a sharp tug, keeping your head up so that the camera captures your ever changing facial expressions. You like that it’s being filmed, both you and Seonghwa’s faces being recorded as you chase the pleasure your bodies can give.
He grunts out your name as he fucks you, releasing his hold on your hair so that he can grip your waist. Your hands shake and you finally relent, lowering your front half onto the bed. This allows him to fuck your cunt even deeper. You’re cursing loudly, begging him to keep going because you’re going to cum again. He doesn’t stop and you’re sure that the camera is going to show a thin layer of sweat across his forehead from how quickly Seonghwa’s hips snap into yours, his balls smacking against your ass, your wet pussy taking him easily.
Your hands grip the bed sheets, face down in the bed now, trying to muffle how much noise you’re making because of the neighbors. Seonghwa is grunting, panting, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as his cock pounds into your sopping wet hole.
Your orgasm starts suddenly, without any warning, and your back arches. You bring your ass backwards, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. At the same time, Seonghwa groans out your name and it sounds like gravel against the bottom of a shoe. He begins to spill inside of your cunt. Together, you both cum, in full view of the camera. His warmth overflows and when he pulls out, you can feel him dripping out of your cunt.
Legs like jelly, you fall against the bed, completely exhausted. But Seonghwa slides off, reaching for the camera and bringing it onto the bed. He plops it briefly onto the sheets while his hands go to your hips, rolling you onto your back.
“What?” You mumble, slightly dazed.
“I want to see your cunt filled with my load,” He explains, bringing the camera close, peering through the viewfinder.
His other hand gently spreads your lips apart, showing his cum leaking out from in between your folds. It’s lurid, completely pornographic, and you find it thrilling.
“You’re a perv,” You tease him.
His finger dips into your cunt, scooping up some of his cum. His hand trails up along your body, along with the camera lens, and when his finger is against your lips, you open, sucking his cum clean off.
“And what are you then?” He says.
“Your new girlfriend,” You reply boldly.
Seonghwa pulls away from the viewfinder, his eyes meeting yours. In the now quiet room, the only noise is of his soft breathing mingling with yours. The past is wiped clean, replaced with the new tape, the collision of two people caught on camera, entwining together both physically and mentally.
“That sounds perfect to me,” is what he finally says and you can read in between the lines – you aren’t just privy to Seonghwa’s true self through a camera lens anymore. You get access to him all the time.
You smile up at him, fucked out completely and never been more content.
Seonghwa returns the look, his finger hovering over the button to stop recording.
“What do you want to do now?” He asks.
You think for a moment before going, “We should –”
And his finger presses the button, ending the tape.
the end.
Blue Hawaii - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
⛈️ Summary: A bad summer storm changes how you see Seonghwa, a bothersome patron of the bar you work at.
⛈️ Word count: 9k
⛈️ Genre warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. very light enemies to lovers. smoking and drinking. hair pulling (hwa receiving). biting (reader receiving). oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
⛈️ Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @spiderlilyfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @rdiamond2727 - @dreamtof0rget - @xirenex
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
The bar is incredibly crowded, overly loud, smells unmistakably like salt water and you are pretty sure another one of those silly drink umbrellas has just crunched under your shoe. You are in your element.
Saturday night, middle of summer, height of tourist season. The beachside bar you work at is a stopping point for many looking to get drunk before wobbling back to their hotels and you love to take advantage of it. There is easy money to be had charming tourists who have come here to soak in the sun and then to soak in the booze underneath the moonlight. Of course, pretending to be kind, patient and charming to get their money is utterly exhausting.
A breeze kicks up, cutting through the open windows and through the small bar. The wind chimes above the bar top move although it is impossible to hear over the din of the music and conversation. Your brain automatically fills the noise in as you slide a drink over to a drunken divorcee who has spent the past ten minutes telling you how much she hates her ex-husband. You nod in a sympathetic manner, hoping this will pay off and result in a large tip. A big storm is supposed to roll in tomorrow night and the bar will most likely be closed. Better make what you can tonight.
Distantly, you can hear two men talking to your right, having just sat down. Their voices are familiar and you know that they aren’t tourists but locals. Those are harder to charm because you see them often enough that the placid and artificial veneer of being pleasant becomes transparent.
“I think I’m going to order a Blue Hawaii,” The first man says and you recognize it as Hongjoong, a painter that comes in every week or so to grab a drink. But where there is Hongjoong, there is…
“Really?” Seonghwa drawls, “Last time I took a sip of yours, it was so weak that I thought I was drinking water. And the same bartender that made it is working tonight. You’re better off just getting a beer than having her make anything.”
Keep reading
Oh my goodness, this fic is so hot and such a good read.
Addicting Kitten Masterpost - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE - When your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. However, when Seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den.
PART TWO - After an intense encounter with Seonghwa, you don’t want to end up just another name on his list. But attempting to avoid him leads to falling further down the rabbit hole.
PART THREE - After a face time call, Seonghwa has invited you over to stay the night. Excited but extremely nervous, you wonder how the night is going to play out - and what you will learn about him.
PART FOUR - After a horrible day, you try to cancel plans on Seonghwa. But when he offers to come over to comfort you, you end up discovering a different side of him…and perhaps realize something as well.
FINAL PART - When things at the club get heated, your relationship with Seonghwa takes a turn.
EPILOGUE - A summer trip with your boyfriend, Seonghwa, doesn’t go exactly how you planned.
Arrow in the Dark - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW) - Masterpost
PART ONE: Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.
PART TWO: Persuaded by Seonghwa to try a crash course in relationships in order to pull off convincing his parents of the lie that the two of you are deeply in love, you quickly realize that you might have taken on more than your heart is prepared for.
FINAL PART: With the beach house weekend finally here, certain decisions need to be made in regards to the ever changing relationship you have with your fake boyfriend, Seonghwa.
BEST ONE YETTTTT!!!!! WILL DEFINITELY READ AGAIN BOO! 😼💞
Video Girl - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
📼 Summary: On the cusp of 1998, your quiet life working at a department store is upended when an attractive new coworker named Seonghwa awakens your desire for sexual exploration.
📼 Word count: 22k
📼 Genre and warnings: smut one shot. coworkers to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. use of a camera during sex. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie.
📼 fic playlist here.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
Monday, October 6th, 1997
“What happened to the stack of CDs I put right there?”
“Right where?”
“Right there,” You gesture to the empty space that once housed a cluster of CDs that needed to be put on the shelf.
Your coworker, San, pops his head up from where he had been busy sorting through one of the boxes of new inventory. His brows furrow while staring at the spot as if he could magically make the CDs appear.
“What was it?”
“The new Janet Jackson album.”
“The new…oh shit, wait, I might’ve knocked it into this other box,” He ducks back down out of your view and you hear him wildly rummaging around.
With a sigh, you slump against the shelf and stare out at the store which closed half an hour ago. Now, you’re stuck restocking new releases in the CD and VHS section for another hour before your shift ends. At least there are no customers, you think gratefully.
“What’s it called?” San asks, still trying to find what he accidentally misplaced.
“The Velvet Rope, I think,” You reply, wishing your feet didn’t hurt so much.
The stack of CDs really isn’t that important but you just needed an excuse to take a break. It’s been a long day, working a double to cover for someone else, and you were sick of being here about three hours ago. The vest you have to wear while clocked in has long been discarded, tossed onto the counter as soon as the last customer finally got the hell out.
“Wait, I found it,” San says with the same enthusiasm of someone completing a lifelong goal. He circles around the aisle, holding the pile of CDs, “Where should I put them?”
“I’m just stacking them next to Mariah Carey,” You reply while taking them out of his hands and turning back to the shelf, “I don’t care.”
“Fine by me.”
You’ve worked with San for two years now and know him as well as one can know another coworker. He rarely missed a shift, probably because he enjoyed flirting with the women who wandered into the electronics section too much. There were two things San liked to do outside of work: work out and go clubbing with his best friend, Wooyoung. He was good looking to the point that even the ugly work mandated vest couldn’t take away from his jawline sculpted out of marble.
“Thanks for helping me out,” San says.
“It’s cool, dude. I really did not feel like working in my department tonight.”
“You’re sick of organizing all the tube tops? Don’t see any of them you want for yourself?” He jokes, knowing how bored you are of working in the women’s clothing department.
You make a face. “Ugh, as if.”
San leans against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Did you hear about the new guy they hired for the men’s department?”
“No,” You reply, uninterested.
“I heard he’s good looking,” A thought strikes him and in an alarmed tone, he goes, “You don’t think he’s better looking than me, do you?”
You shove the last CD onto the shelf although it teeters close to the edge. You stare at it, willing that it doesn’t fall and when the case stays in place, you finally turn your attention to San. “Why, worried you’re going to no longer be the Resident Hottie?”
“Pfft, no. But…you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
You lean down and pick up one of the boxes of CDs, balancing it on your knee until you get a better hold on it. “Why are you buggin about a new hire?”
“I’m not buggin about him,” San protests quickly.
“Yes, you totally are. I’m sure he’s nothing special. Don’t worry about it,” You turn away from San, getting ready to head down another aisle to finish putting the CDs away, “I can’t even remember the last time we hired someone who impacted me outside of asking and then promptly forgetting their name.”
San looks mollified, taking comfort in the fact that everyone knows he is the hottest guy working in the store. You plop the box down, sorting through it to see what to put away first.
The routine is comforting in that sort of mind numbing manner, the same pace of your life unchanging with no disruptions on the horizon. Tomorrow, you’d wake up and be here again to sort out ugly women’s clothing and clean up the fitting rooms after old ladies leave piles everywhere.
That’s how it always goes, how it will continue to go.
Tuesday, October 7th, 1997
“I don’t want this one,” A customer declares, thrusting a crushed velvet mini dress into your arms, “Or this.” A denim dress is tossed as the customer saunters off back into the aisles of clothing racks.
You stand there, momentarily bunching the fabric in your hands with irritation before collecting your features into a pleasant expression. You go back to organizing the clothing from the fitting room racks to put them away. There are two hours left in your shift and your feet hurt yet again.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” A voice cuts cleanly through the music being piped into the building. It is deep, almost melodious and you look over your shoulder curiously, expecting to see a lost looking man trying to find something to buy for his wife or girlfriend.
There is, in fact, a lost looking man standing there but his blue vest indicates he’s a coworker. The slightly confused expression combined with the outfit leads you to believe this is the man San had been talking about the other night.
“I just started working here yesterday and the person who was supposed to be training me called out so I’m running the men’s department alone. I just had some questions and was hoping you could help me.”
The man is tall and slender with black hair carefully combed. The ugly blue vest does nothing to take away from his uniquely pretty face – beautiful brown eyes with a strong nose, perfectly straight white teeth and full lips. In his hands is a small collection of clothing, long fingers splayed out across to stop it from tumbling onto the floor. His shoes look brand new, the shine making it obvious. A belt loops around his small waist, wearing simple dress slacks.
You’re so used to going through the motions at work, typically zoned out that only something absolutely wild could shatter you from that usual feeling. Seeing someone so pretty against the backdrop of the woman’s department brings you up short.
“Uhhhh,” You go before managing to collect yourself swiftly, replying, “Yeah, I can help you,” Your eyes fall onto his nametag, and you tentatively say his name aloud for the first time, “Seonghwa.”
He smiles, a sort of strange smile in which he looks vastly uncomfortable, saying your own name after reading it from your tag. You trail after him, cutting through the organized racks of the women’s department into the general shitshow of the men’s.
For some reason, it was impossible to keep a full team in the men’s section. They always quit or just stopped showing up. Over the two years you worked here, you normally didn’t speak to anyone in the men’s department too much since they never seemed to last long. That meant the department always looked like a group of wild school children tore through it regularly and today is no exception.
Seonghwa takes you to a large box dumped unceremoniously onto the counter near the men’s fitting rooms. “I was told to process these returns but I don’t…actually know how to do that,” He admits bashfully.
“Oh, it’s not difficult. I can show you.”
He looks relieved, thanking you. As you begin to show Seonghwa the process, you sneak a glance at his face out of the corner of your eye. His eyelashes are long, his lips prettily plump and his skin seemingly perfect. What planet did this dude come from? You wonder, unsure how someone like him stumbled into working at a store like this.
“You know how to fold the clothes the right way?” You ask at one point.
“Yeah, I’ve worked retail before in my last town.”
“Oh, you moved here?”
Seonghwa looks up as you hand him a particularly ugly dress shirt made from a shiny fabric. In the horrendous fluorescent lights which make almost everyone look garish, he seems to be immune.
“Yeah, just a couple weeks ago. Not far away, just a few towns over.” He quickly changes the subject off himself, “Have you worked here long?”
“Around two years.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s retail,” You reply dryly, “I think it is the same everywhere.”
The corners of his lips turn up for a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Seonghwa turns his attention back to the pile of clothes, folding them swiftly. You watch the way his long fingers smooth out the fabric before expertly folding it. Every movement of his seems to be precise and completely under control, a far cry from yourself.
“Are you settling in okay then?” You ask, trying to wiggle more information out of this professional handsome guy who for some reason is working at this shitty store instead of modeling overseas somewhere.
He carefully folds another shirt while replying, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. Have you always lived here?” Another deflection. It’s growing obvious Seonghwa doesn’t want to talk about himself.
“Yeah, I have. It’s really nothing special though. Pretty generic place.” You study his face while asking the next question, “Why did you pick here?”
Without missing a beat, he goes, “It was convenient. What do you like the most about living here?”
You find his answer curious but decide asking Seonghwa questions is pointless because he only swiftly tries to put the conversation back on you.
Stumped by his question, mostly because nothing really comes to mind, you finally settle on, “The weather is alright.”
He tilts his face in your direction at your answer, one eyebrow slightly raised. “That’s it?”
You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”
His gaze is heavy on you, a beat too long before turning his attention back to folding the clothes. You swallow hard, wondering why you feel so unnerved. As beautiful as Seonghwa is, he has the sort of intense presence that knocks you a little off balance, almost as if he can see some part of yourself that most people cannot.
“Alright, finished.” His voice brings you back to the moment as he picks up the clothing, “Do I just put them back now?”
“Yup, that’s it. Do you want me to help you?”
“No, I got it. I should start learning where everything goes,” He turns to go and then stops, looking over his shoulder, “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”
“It’s no biggie. You can pop over again if you have any other questions.”
He smiles again, exposing the most perfect teeth you’ve ever seen. “Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.”
You give him a small wave, turning around to head back to your section, wondering why you feel so thrown off balance over someone you’ve known for ten minutes.
*
“So, how is he?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” San says, leaning closer to you, “The new guy.”
You’re in the break room, poking at the unappealing lunch you brought. The break room is covered in tacky motivational posters, a bulletin board filled with random flyers about things like worker safety, requesting time off and a garage sale ad. A small TV in the corner shows the local news. The image, as usual, is extra grainy due to the bad signal off the cheap antenna. There is no break from the harsh fluorescents even in this room.
“You saw him, didn’t you?” He presses.
You relent and reply with a casual, “Yeah, I saw him.”
“And? What’s he like? Is he hotter than me?”
Another noncommittal shrug. “He’s…different. He’s friendly, don’t get me wrong, but he seems distant. I guess he moved here from a town nearby. That’s all I know about him.” San is staring at you with a serious expression on his face. You shift uncomfortably in the hard chair, finally glaring at him. “What?”
He points at you sternly. “You do think he’s fine.”
“What?” You bluster. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
San gestures wildly. “It’s written all over your face! We talk about every new hire in detail and now suddenly, you give me a couple of sentences. What spell did he cast on you?”
“No spell,” You say crossly, irritated at somehow being too obvious when believing you played it cool, “You’re caring too much about my opinion.”
He slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, pouting. With a sigh, you push your meal away and turn to face him.
“Come on, dude. You’re giving a new hire way too much power. Everyone knows you’re all that and a bag of chips. You think the confused old ladies who still don’t understand what a cordless phone is are not gonna be charmed by you? That they’re suddenly going to head to the men’s department instead?”
“They tip me, you know,” San says defensively, “That’s why it’s important to me. They give me a couple of bucks when I finish explaining what a portable CD player is compared to their 8 track.”
You skirt around the fact it is against company police to take cash tips from customers, opting to continue reassuring him instead. “Don’t give someone else so much power. I mean, look at the size of your arms. No one in the store can compare with that.”
“That’s true,” He says begrudgingly, “Fine. And I’ll give the new guy a shot only cuz you think he’s fly.”
“I don’t – will you stop –” You sputter.
San stands up, snatching his work vest off the table and slipping it back on. “Alright, I’m going. Talk to you later.”
You say bye, now alone in the break room. Normally, you relish the quiet moments here without a coworker talking your ear off. But you’re longing for a pointless discussion, some sort of distraction from the fact that you’ve spent ten minutes around Seonghwa and are seemingly attracted to him.
You’ve fallen into such a routine between work, occasionally going out on the weekends, and watching TV that suddenly finding someone hot is like an electric bolt to your chest. Things have been quiet for so long, in both your mind and life, that the last thing you want to deal with is forming an attraction to a coworker.
Luckily, Seonghwa seems intent to keep mostly to himself. The emotional distance should help, you think, should make it easier not to get swept up in some guy.
Wednesday, October 8th, 1997
Once it hits 4pm, all you care about is punching out and getting home. You’re so wrapped up in this that when you turn around to dart out of the back room, you collide immediately into Seonghwa.
It’s like striking a wall. Even though he’s slender, his body is firm, resulting in you ungracefully flailing for a moment. His hands go to your upper arms to steady you, allowing yourself to recover from toppling back against the wall.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You’re embarrassed by being so spaced out.
Seonghwa, who you have successfully avoided all day, doesn’t seem to be impacted by the collision. He’s still in his work vest but today he’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt. His hands rest on your upper arms and your eyes drop to his fingers, taking note of how they look against the fabric of your clothing.
He clears his throat gently, a mild noise of embarrassment, before dropping his hands back to his sides. “No, I should have let you know I was behind you. My shift is done too so I was just punching out.”
You shuffle to the side, letting Seonghwa finish up. Your heart is beating quickly in that annoying way you’ve been trying to avoid since your last relationship. You should just say goodbye now and head out. But your feet refuse to obey and you find yourself lingering to walk out with Seonghwa.
After shaking out of his work vest and tossing it unceremoniously into his locker, he leans against it, watching as you fumble with your own lock.
“How was your day?”
“Uh, it was alright. What about you? You settling in okay with everything?” You successfully open your locker, shoving your own work vest in there and grabbing your bag.
Turning to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, your eyes unintentionally flick down to his torso. His long sleeve shirt fits him a little too well, is a little too snug, and you’re now acutely aware of his small waist on top of the fact he’s definitely in shape.
“Yeah, it’s going well. A bit disorganized but it’s fine.”
The two of you are leaving the backroom together, cutting through the electronics section. San is milling around in front of a display of Tamagotchis which is already half empty. He glances up and notices you, waving.
“Hey,” He goes, “Oh, you’re the new guy, right?”
You’re secretly hoping San doesn’t embarrass you. Even though you denied thinking Seonghwa is attractive yesterday, you know that San doesn’t believe you for a second.
Seonghwa introduces himself and then glances at the display. “These things go fast, don’t they?”
“Tell me about it. I end up having to restock the display every shift,” San replies disgruntled, “I don’t get it. An electronic pet?”
“I had a Tamagotchi,” Seonghwa muses, “It kept beeping while I was sleeping so I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it.”
“What happened to it?” San asks.
“It died,” He replies seriously, “I felt pretty guilty.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” San says just as grimly.
You glance between the two men and their bonding moment over a dead Tamagotchi before clasping your hands together. “Okay, well, this has been truly touching but I don’t wanna miss my bus. See you tomorrow, San.”
As you turn to leave, you hear Seonghwa mumble a quick goodbye before catching up with you. “You take the bus to work?”
“Yeah, no car.”
“I can drop you off at your place if you’d like.”
You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t even know if I’m completely out of your way or not. We could live on opposite sides of one another. On top of that, how familiar are you with the town? You got a map in your car or something to help you get home afterwards?”
Seonghwa looks perplexed. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”
The doors glide open as you step out into the late afternoon air. The temperature has dropped since this morning, a chilly bite that cuts through your t-shirt. Seonghwa had the right idea with the long sleeve, you think. Feeling flustered by his invitation to drive you home, you stop walking and turn to face him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across so harsh. I just wouldn’t want you going out of your way on my account.”
“I get that,” He replies, a wind kicking up and blowing some of his hair into his eyes which he impatiently brushes back, “But I really don’t mind. I need to learn where everything is anyway.”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the urge just to agree. Logically, you should just take the bus home. If you’re trying to steadfastly ignore the fact that Seonghwa is attractive then obviously being in his car will not help things. But on the other hand, being alone with him also sounds too good.
“Alright, fine. But if you get lost, I warned you.”
He smiles and you can feel it in your chest. Following him to his car, which looks as though it has seen better days, you get into the passenger seat and toss your bag on the floor, looking around. A pair of small dice swing off the rearview mirror, the only decoration in the car. There is nothing else to learn about Seonghwa in here – the car is neat, clean and smells nice.
He stretches out his long legs in his seat, starting the car. You are trying very hard not to stare at him, not notice how smooth his skin is nor how his muscles pull against his long sleeve shirt.
You open your mouth to tell him your address when suddenly Wannabe by the Spice Girls begins to blare out of his car speakers. Startled into silence, you can only watch as Seonghwa looks mortified, quickly slamming his hand down onto the eject button which spits the CD out of the player in his car dashboard.
He grabs the CD swiftly while going, “Uh, I didn’t know – I forgot – ‘’
“Seonghwa, it’s fine,” You reassure him, “It would be stranger at this point if you didn’t own that CD.”
He turns his body to grab something off the back seat, plopping the CD holder into his lap. Quickly, he opens it, flips to a random page with a spot available and hastily shoves the disc inside before closing the big binder of albums. Seonghwa seems to collect himself after a second or two, returning the binder to the backseat and quietly clearing his throat while turning on the radio. Sunday Morning by No Doubt quietly fills the car.
“Alright,” He says, neatly skirting around the Spice Girls incident, his hands wrapping around the steering wheel, “Help me get to your place.”
You give him a couple of directions and soon enough Seonghwa is on a main road. You make a mental note to eventually Map Quest some stuff for him later so he can learn the town layout faster.
Wanting to fill the silence before your brain gets swept up in the mental image of sitting in his lap, you go, “Are you excited for Halloween? Hopefully we don’t get stuck working late.”
“Do you usually do something for Halloween?”
Of course he deflects immediately. You should have known better than to ask Seonghwa a question about himself. “Sometimes. Last year I went to a party but it was a total buzzkill. I don’t know what I’m doing this year.”
“Do you like horror movies?”
“They’re okay. Do you?”
“Yeah, I like them.” Wow, finally an answer out of him! Progress.
“Oh, wait, turn right at this light,” You say as Seonghwa shifts into the other lane.
At the red light, he looks out the side window and says, “So far, this is near my own place. Maybe we don’t live too far away from each other.”
“Maybe.” Did you dare ask another question? “Do you live alone?”
Seonghwa hesitates for a moment and then replies, “Yeah, I do. What about you?”
You spare an extra second to study his face. Every interaction with Seonghwa, while friendly enough, gives you the feeling that he is constantly holding back in some respect. Aspects of himself are carefully hidden, making you wonder what he is like behind the perfectly pleasant façade he shows at work.
“Yeah. Do you like living alone?”
“It’s a little different than what I am used to,” Seonghwa says carefully, glancing at you for a moment.
You point to a road ahead. “You can turn down here.” After he does so, you ask, “What are you used to?”
Seonghwa’s hands tighten around the wheel. You get the sense he is struggling to answer, torn between talking about himself and staying private.
“Listen, Seonghwa,” You begin, “I get the sense you really don’t like talking about yourself. That’s fine. I don’t want to come off all ‘hey, tell me your life story’ and shit. I know we just met.”
There is another red light and the car stops. Seonghwa tilts his face to look at you. You’re struck again by how handsome you find him and how his intense gaze startles you into silence.
“It has nothing to do with you. I don’t mean to seem so closed off.” He turns his attention back to the road, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel before saying, “I moved here because my girlfriend and I broke up recently. I’m not used to living alone because I lived with her.”
“Oh,” You mumble as the light turns green, feeling awkward, “I didn’t mean to – I mean…”
“It’s okay,” He reassures you, his attention back on the road, “I’m a private person but I don’t want to come off rude.”
Quietly, you point out the next turn. It doesn’t take long to stop at the small apartment complex you’ve lived in the past year. Grabbing your bag, anxious to get out of the car after fumbling straight into making Seonghwa feel as if he needed to explain himself, you stop just in time to remember he might not know how to get to his own place.
“I can figure it out,” He claims while you rummage in your bag for a stray sheet of paper and pen.
“No, no, you were nice enough to drop me off. What’s your address?” After he says it, you scribble down rough directions that he can follow and thrust the paper in his direction. “Here, this should help.”
When he takes the paper from you, his fingers brush against yours. Your breath catches at the small touch.
“Listen, I meant what I said,” Seonghwa says, “You don’t need to feel bad.”
“Yeah but I didn’t want you to talk about anything negative like a breakup. That is way uncool of me. It isn’t any of my business why you moved here or who you live with.”
“True but I also don’t wanna come off like a jerk.”
“You weren’t, I just…” You’re struggling to find a safe sentence to land on. How did you not say that you wanted to learn more about him because you were immediately attracted and therefore curious? “Wanted to be friendly. Since we work together.”
“We’re chilling, don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to your door, at least.”
“You don’t need to do that,” You protest even though your heart skips a beat.
“I don’t mind.”
You know that you’re probably supposed to refuse again until Seonghwa relents and even though you still have anxiety from the misstep of having him open up about his past, your desire to be around him for longer wins out. You nod in acceptance, getting out of the car and rubbing your arms in the cold air, reminding yourself to bring a hoodie tomorrow.
Seonghwa circles around the car, waiting for you to shuffle over. The apartment complex isn’t anything special, just two floors and a run down looking pool in the middle that is currently closed for fall and winter. You lead him up to the second floor, stopping in front of your apartment. Seonghwa is peering over the railing to look at the pool. Some of his black hair falls in front of his eyes. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants to keep them warm. Your eyes drop to his slender waist and you swallow hard. Everything about this man seems to have been specially created to drive you up the wall.
“You ever use the pool?”
“Not really. Why, do you like swimming?”
“I do. My apartment complex doesn’t have a pool though.”
Without thinking, you offer, “Well, when the pool reopens, you can come here.”
He looks over at you, something flickering across his eyes quickly. Straightening up, he nods, giving you a small smile. “Alright, that sounds sweet.”
Shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, you go, “Well…thanks again for the ride. Try not to get lost on the way home. Do you work tomorrow?”
“I do.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Seonghwa lingers for a moment. Once again, you get the feeling he is restraining from doing or saying something that might expose too much of himself. It is a curious thing, you think, especially given that you just assumed the whole ex-girlfriend thing is why he was being so reserved. Maybe that’s just him as a person though. Just really private and constantly filtering his behavior through a thousand nets.
“Alright, talk to you later.”
“See you later, alligator,” You reply and immediately chastised yourself for ending on such a corny line.
Seonghwa turns around, walking back towards the staircase. You trace the curve of his shoulders underneath his shirt, getting a brief mental image of your hands flat against the top of them while you’re under his body. Shaking your head to fend off the fantasy, you turn away.
He’s probably incredibly boring in bed. He’s an attractive guy but he’s so mild mannered and pleasant in an easily digestible way. Why get distracted into some annoying crush when the end result won’t be worth it?
Thursday, October 9th, 1997
“Wassup?” San plops down in the chair next to yours while gesturing at the TV. “You watch this?”
Once again, it is mid-afternoon in the break room. You’re eating lunch, staring at the grainy image on the TV that is showing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad for the new episode on Monday night.
“No, do you?”
“Nah but Yeosang records it every week to watch.”
Yeosang is San’s roommate. That information doesn’t really surprise you seeing as he also watches The X-Files religiously.
“Well, I bet he will enjoy this episode,” You squint, looking at the ad closer, “About a gigantic reptile thing in a frat house.”
It is at that moment that Seonghwa steps into the break room. He is wearing a short sleeve black shirt today along with the ugly blue vest and a pair of black jeans. San waves when he enters.
“Hey, dude. Are you on break?”
“Yeah, I am.”
San kicks out the chair on the other side of you, motioning to it. “Wanna chill with us?” When Seonghwa isn’t looking, he winks at you. You fight the urge to punch his shoulder.
Seonghwa nods, stopping to get something out of the fridge before settling in next to you. He catches your eye and gives you a small smile. Your cheeks feel warm so you turn your attention back to your sandwich but you can still feel his gaze.
“Damn, I wanna see this,” San interrupts whatever the hell was passing in between Seonghwa and yourself.
“I think the title is kinda goofy though,” Seonghwa remarks.
“You don’t like I Know What You Did Last Summer? I think it sounds a little mysterious. You know, it’s by the same writer as Scream,” San nudges you, “What do you think?”
“I think I haven’t seen Scream so that sentence means nothing to me.”
“Whoa, what, you haven’t seen Scream?” Seonghwa’s attention is back on you, “The sequel comes out soon. You should watch it. It’s really good.”
Slightly desperate for something new to discuss with Seonghwa that didn’t involve asking questions leading to awkward moments, you leap at this opportunity. “Alright. I guess I can see if Blockbuster has it.”
San scoffs. “Are you serious? I’ve been asking you to watch Scream for months – ow!” He winces as your foot collides with his shin under the table.
Seonghwa frowns. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” San wheezes, “I always forget about the metal bar under the table. Just whacked my leg against it.”
“He’s fine,” You say quickly, shooting daggers at him.
Seonghwa tilts his body in your direction and goes, “I own Scream. I can bring the VHS tape tomorrow if you’re also working.”
“I don’t have a day off until Sunday so I’ll be here. But are you sure? I don’t want you to lend me anything…”
“Yeah, it’s okay. Don’t go to Blockbuster. I always do and then forget and end up owing them an annoying amount of late fees.”
San has quickly forgotten the shin kicking incident and nods in agreement. “He’s right. Avoid it if you can.”
“I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“Okay, well, thanks.”
“Hey, when you’re done watching it, can I borrow it? Yeosang still hasn’t seen it either,” San goes, “He’s so bad at watching movies.”
“Yeah, that’s no problem,” Seonghwa replies, “I’m still unpacking but I know where it is.”
“Great, thanks dude,” San exclaims before turning his attention back to the TV.
San says something else but you don’t really hear him because Seonghwa is still looking at you. Even though Seonghwa is friendly yet distant, your body seems to react to him in a way that takes you by surprise every time you’re close. It’s the warmth of his body so near combined with his toned arms and perfect skin. The effect is slightly dizzying. Toss in the fact you haven’t had a crush on someone since your last relationship ended three years ago, you are struggling between thinking his personality doesn’t match up with yours and wanting to throw yourself at him. The entire thing is confusing.
Seonghwa’s lips are slightly parted as if he was going to say more but falls silent while staring at you. There is something brewing in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. It’s intense and your stomach swoops as if leaping off a cliff. His hand presses down hard against his knee to steady himself. He suddenly looks away towards the window, cutting the moment short.
You’re breathless, wondering what the hell that had been about. The way Seonghwa looked at you mingling with the feeling that he was reigning himself in, closing something off – you don’t know what to make of it. Could it be he also is attracted to you and is trying to hide it? In all your interactions with him, he’s been kind and considerate but nothing indicated he saw you in a physical way.
You force yourself into focusing on whatever San is saying, trying to push all the swirling emotions out of your mind.
Friday, October 10th, 1997
You sigh, plopping down on your bed, stretching out. Work today was a chore but Seonghwa had given you his copy of Scream. With San bothering you to watch it quickly so he could let Yeosang borrow it, you figured you’d just watch it tonight before going to sleep.
Leaning over the side of your bed, you rummage through your bag until your fingers feel the edge of the VHS tape. Pulling it out, you gaze at the cover for a few seconds, lost in thought. You’re thinking about how Seonghwa looked today right before his shift ended. You were on your break and he was at the lockers, tugging a hoodie over his head. His white shirt lifted up so slightly that if you hadn’t been already staring at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the quick glimpse of a few inches of hard abdomen. That was enough to send your body into overdrive, something you still hadn’t calmed down from when he came over to hand you the Scream VHS.
“Thanks,” You mumbled quickly, hoping that he didn’t have the ability to read your mind.
“Not a problem. You can just give it to San as soon as you’re done with it. I’m not in any hurry to get it back.”
He gave you that same easy going smile, the type of smile that made you wonder what he would be like if his kind demeanor cracked and he had you pushed against a wall with his lips against your neck.
“Right, yeah, cool.” You said in what you hoped was a casual tone.
When he turned around to leave, your eyes lingered on his waist before turning your attention back to your food, the VHS tape in your lap like a heavy weight.
Dragging yourself back to the present moment, you pull the tape out of the sleeve, finding it a bit curious there isn’t a sticker with the movie name on it. You wiggle to the edge of your bed, shoving the tape into the player. There are a few seconds of VHS tracking and then the picture pops into view.
You’re staring at a palm tree against a blue sky, slightly out of focus. The tape goes grainy for a moment and then the camera swoops downward. Someone’s face comes into view, filling up the lens before their hand pushes the camera away while they are laughing.
Uh, okay, this is not what I thought the movie was gonna look like, you think while squinting at the TV.
“Can you get the camera out of my face?” comes a familiar voice.
“Stop, you love when the camera is on,” A woman replies coyly.
The shot snaps into focus then, showing Seonghwa against a wall. He is wearing a sleeveless white and blue striped shirt, his black hair ruffling in the wind. The sight of him is like a punch to your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs. His smile is bright, completely different from the ones you’ve seen at work. It is unguarded. Even his posture is relaxed with none of the slightly stiff professional nature he has at work.
Entranced, you can only stare as the scene continues. Seonghwa runs his long fingers through his hair, his smile turning into a grin.
“So do you,” He counters.
You can hear the sound of ocean waves just off screen. He turns his face to the side, the camera lingering on this for a moment before it lowers for a second, showing a wooden pathway. It cuts suddenly, immediately shifting into another scene.
Seonghwa is standing on the beach now, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the blanket that is on the sand. You didn’t think it was possible to see him look so comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t seem to be shy at all, staring at the camera with a challenging look on his face. On top of that, the sight of Seonghwa shirtless is bowling you over. He is toned, tanned and has muscles you want to press your hands against.
“What?” He goes.
“Nothing,” The woman says, “I can’t film you getting into the water?”
“You’re just filming me undressing.”
“Well, it’s not the first time, is it?”
He rolls his eyes but there is a good natured expression on his face. He shoves his thumbs into his swim trunks, tugging them down half an inch before exploding into laughter and turning around, jogging towards the water.
Another cut. New scene. This has to be him and his ex. I need to turn this off. It’s obviously not meant for me.
Seonghwa is sitting at a table in a diner, looking over a menu. He raises his eyes, making eye contact with the camera then he laughs again. He looks relaxed, his smile bright and posture resting comfortably against the booth.
“You look wicked good tonight,” The woman remarks and Seonghwa playfully shakes the menu in her direction.
“Good thing you’re getting it on camera, right?”
“Exactly.” She zooms in a little more. “Do you want to tell the imaginary audience what we’ll be filming later?”
“Oh, well, I think the imaginary audience knows by now what we like to film,” He says with a mock seriousness that makes your heart constrict. “Isn’t that right?”
The woman giggles and the scene cuts suddenly. This time the camera is in a bedroom with the lens focusing on Seonghwa once again. He is shirtless, close to the camera.
“You gonna keep it on while I fuck you?” He says in a low voice.
The woman doesn’t reply, just giggles.
Seonghwa’s eyes drop for a moment before locking back onto the camera. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face – a combination of lust and reveling in the fact the entire thing is being filmed. It is as if the exterior you’ve seen on him since he began to work at the store is all bullshit, a lie in which he hides behind, and you’re seeing him for real now through the lens.
“Maybe I’ll film you when my cock is down your throat,” He continues, “You want that?”
The woman titters again before going, “Yeah, I want that.”
Seonghwa grins, moving back a little so that his entire body is in view. The low light makes it difficult to fully make him out but you can see the curve of his shoulders, the stiffness against the fabric of his boxers, and the way he motions for her to come closer.
“Then give me the camera and get on your knees,” He says sternly while lowering one hand towards his boxers, starting to pull them down –
The sight of Seonghwa about to expose himself finally snaps you out of your shock. Quickly, you lean over and smash the eject button on the tape, yanking it out of the machine and dropping it to the floor as if it is going to burn you.
You stare at it, breathless, your mind spinning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that tape was going to lead. After all, people still talked about the tape of Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee; it had been covered in media for months and was still often a topic of conversation.
You are aware Seonghwa just moved and the tape must be misplaced. Do you tell him? Do you just pretend you watched Scream and not mention it? But San wanted to borrow the copy as well. Obviously, he couldn’t get his hands on it. You could lie and say the tape didn’t play. But the excuse wouldn’t work because Seonghwa would try it on his own player and realize what was really on it. You could pretend you lost the tape and destroy it. But that also didn’t seem right. It wasn’t your tape, after all, and eventually Seonghwa could put the pieces together and believe you kept the tape to watch or worse. It felt as if the only choice would be to come clean to Seonghwa and let him know he accidentally gave you the wrong tape.
On the other side of things, you couldn’t believe how different Seonghwa was on camera. There was such a relaxed, casual demeanor to him. He seemed more at ease in front of the lens than in reality. For the first time since meeting him, it felt that you truly saw him. The quiet confidence, no hint of shyness in the way he spoke or removed his clothes. On top of that, his body was absolutely banging in a way that made your thighs clench and hands bunch up in your blanket.
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You think about that moment in the break room when Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy on yours and his hand gripped his knee. The little bit of his true personality coming through before being shoved back down, perhaps? Just an hour ago, you thought everything about Seonghwa had been figured out. Not anymore.
Your mind flashes back to his smile and the expression on his face while the camera filmed. Unguarded. Exposed. Hiding behind nothing and leaving everything, including sex, on a VHS tape.
What would such a thing be like? A small voice in your head wonders.
Saturday, October 11th, 1997
“Hey, good morning.”
You jump out of your skin, slamming your locker door shut and turning to see Seonghwa standing there.
“Hi, Seonghwa! How’s it hanging?!” You exclaim loudly with such false cheer that you inwardly wince.
Seonghwa outwardly winces. “You’re at an excitement level I can’t quite reach given we are at work.”
Then give me the camera and get on your knees.
You make a garbled noise in response, eyes darting all over the place. You can’t stare at Seonghwa’s face because then you think of his unguarded smile. You can’t stare at his chest because then the mental image of his abs pops into view. You can’t even look at his small waist, something that had been giving you great pleasure to sneak glances at during the week, because you’re picturing the way he was tugging down his boxers.
“Are you…uh…feeling alright?”
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” You say quickly, “Tired.”
His eyes move to your locker and he gestures to it. “Oh, did you watch Scream?”
Your head turns sharply. The VHS tape is poking out of the top of your bag. You stammer out a collection of gibberish, stalling for time. You didn’t want to have this conversation right now; you had been picturing it after work, maybe in his car or something. Not in the break room before it hits ten in the morning.
Seonghwa looks perplexed once again. You don’t blame him.
Finally, you settle on, “I would really like to discuss the tape with you.”
His features brighten. “Yeah, sure.”
“After work?”
Confusion once again but he slowly replies, “Alright.”
You scurry past him, shouting your goodbye while exiting the room and hurrying to the women’s department. Seonghwa’s smile from the tape is still blazing across your brain in vivid colour and no matter how much you try not to think about it, you can still see the lascivious look in his eyes as he began to remove his boxers.
You’ll tell him after work, you think desperately, even though it will be mortifying and he most likely will never speak to you again.
As long as you get through this shift without losing your cool, everything should be fine. Just don’t think about him on the tape. Don’t think about him having sex and recording it. Don’t think about how relaxed he looked. Don’t think about how sexy his body looked.
Should be simple.
*
You manage to avoid Seonghwa the entire day, including an awkward moment where you wedged yourself into a clothing rack as he walked by. You were worried about blurting out what was on the tape in the middle of his work shift or even worse – admitting that you were curious about how he filmed himself doing such things and how it felt to let go with a camera on. In quiet moments when a customer wasn’t bothering you, your mind travels back to him like an overplayed record.
You have a difficult time wrapping your head around the Seonghwa on the tape and the Seonghwa in reality. Always polite, yet distant, always kind but professional, in the few days you’ve known him, you’ve bounced between wanting him physically and believing his personality would keep a deeper connection from potentially forming.
But on the tape, you viewed Seonghwa as to how he truly is. There is no façade when the camera is on him. You see him unfiltered. The hint of mischief in his smile, that sense of freedom when he was jogging towards the waves, his quiet confidence when he was talking dirty – why were such things hidden in his day to day life?
By the time the end of your shift comes, you are anxious to get the tape and tell Seonghwa you need to talk. Since you were finishing shifts at the same time, you figured you’d wait for him in the break room. It is a little past seven by the time you enter. The break room has a couple of employees milling around but not San, who snuck out an hour earlier in order to hit up the club with Wooyoung.
Standing in front of your locker, you reach for the lock but as your fingers graze the cold metal, you realize with a jolt it is unlocked. With a small sigh, you realize San must have opened it earlier. You had a bottle of ibuprofen in your locker that he would use occasionally and eventually gave him your locker combination so he would stop bothering you.
But as you reach for your bag, your eyes narrow. Heart thudding, you rummage around in it with growing panic. The VHS tape isn’t in the bag. The tape isn’t in the bag.
“What the fuck?” You hiss in between your teeth, your heart plummeting.
You are about to upend the bag onto the floor when Seonghwa’s voice cuts through. “Hey, finishing up too?”
Surprised, you jump, flattening your back against the locker, clutching the bag against your chest. “Seonghwa! Hey! Hi!”
“Lots of enthusiasm for work today,” He notes, removing his work vest. His slender fingers twist the dial on his locker. You stare at them, momentarily transfixed. He glances at you. “What?”
“Nothing. No, that’s a lie. Seonghwa, I seem to have misplaced the tape.”
“Oh, Scream? Nah, San came to me earlier and said he noticed it was in your locker. I told him you watched it and he grabbed it before he left to give to his roommate. He said he was cutting out early to head to the club or something. Yeosang…that’s his roommate, right? San mentioned that Yeosang was gonna watch it with him and everyone else later tonight.”
Every word out of his mouth, every word tumbling out of his beautifully plush lips, makes you want to sink into the planet’s core. The panic that had been wiggling in your brain while looking for the tape is now washing over your body like a cold wave.
You picture Yeosang, whom you have only met briefly before, hitting play on the video. A room filled with his friends plus San and Wooyoung. The video starting, them seeing Seonghwa. How long would they let the tape run? Probably to where you ejected it. Enough for them to know what is on that tape, enough for them to know what Seonghwa does for fun.
You drop your bag to the floor in shock, reaching out for Seonghwa. Your hand grips the front of his sweater. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Seonghwa,” You say in a choked voice.
He looks a bit flustered, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if anyone else is seeing this. “H-hey, I…” He swallows hard. “I…”
“Seonghwa, that movie isn’t on the tape.”
His nerves, possibly because he thought you were literally throwing yourself at him during work, are now washed away in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Scream is not on that tape. It’s…something else,” You steel yourself, plunging forward, “It’s a home video. Of you and your ex.”
The colour immediately drains from Seonghwa’s face. Your grip loosens on his shirt, watching as he goes through a myriad of facial expressions before settling on something that looks blandly neutral. You’re amazed at how quickly he collects himself.
“I didn’t watch it,” You say hurriedly, talking a mile a minute, “Well, I watched like 3 or 4 minutes but then it was starting to get a little….anyway, I shut it off then. I was going to tell you. I brought it back today so I could tell you after work. I just didn’t think San was going…okay, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll page him. He’ll know to call here, right? I’ll just page him.”
Seonghwa takes a slow deep breath. You can’t tell if he wants to scream, cry, or punch something. His calm demeanor does nothing to relax your own nerves. You don’t know what he is thinking. You go back to digging through your bag, pulling out the tiny phone number and address book you keep in there. Quickly, you head to the break room phone, yanking it off the receiver while flipping through the book to find San’s beeper number. You page him, hurriedly inputting the phone number of the store before hanging up.
“Okay, we’ll just wait here for a few minutes. He’ll call back.”
You aren’t sure if Seonghwa heard you. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing in the same exact spot, his back to you.
“Uh…Seonghwa?” You say tentatively. “Are you freaking out?”
He turns around then, his features still amazingly collected in an extremely calm appearance. “Do you know where San lives?”
“Where he lives? Yeah, I do. Oh, you want to go there?” You glance at the clock. “Yeah, I mean, it might be too early for him to be at the club. But shouldn’t we wait in case he calls?”
“No,” He says curtly, “You’ll come with me and show me where his place is.”
“Oh – oh, okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
You can hardly keep up with Seonghwa’s long strides, scampering behind him as you exit the store and into the chilly weather. Tightening the hoodie you’ve managed to shove yourself into while following him, you get in his car silently. Even though Seonghwa is amazingly calm, you can tell he is on edge. The veneer he portrays to the world is on thin ice and you can almost feel the roiling tension under his skin. He starts the car and the radio plays softly.
Pulling out of the parking spot, Seonghwa gets to the exit and grunts, “Tell me how to get to his place.”
“Okay,” You say, adding on, “You’ll take a left at the light,” You hesitate before going, “Seonghwa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’’
His hands tighten on the wheel, the only indication of his stress. “It isn’t your fault. I should have checked the tape before I gave it to you. Due to my move and breakup, things are all over the place. I don’t even know how it ended up in the Scream case.”
“Even so, I should have turned it off immediately. I just…” What do you even say? I was entranced by how different you were on camera. I’m deeply attracted to you and I want to get to know the version of you that was on the tape. I’m curious about what you do for fun. Maybe a little too intrigued for my own good.
“It’s fine,” Seonghwa interrupts you swiftly, “I really don’t want to discuss the tape while this is on.” He gestures to the radio which is currently playing Supermodel (You Better Work). “Just a little too ridiculous for me right now.”
You fall silent, the words tumbling around in your chest. “A right up here,” You mumble after a couple of minutes.
You know it is a morally grey area to keep thinking about Seonghwa in the bedroom, talking openly about getting his dick sucked and filming it. You know it’s wrong to wonder what the rest of the tape looked like. Your curiosity feels like a mark against your moral code.
Fifteen minutes later, you have pulled up to the apartment complex that San resides in. Getting out of the car, you study the building, trying to remember what number his apartment is.
“The door,” Seonghwa points, “You don’t happen to have a key to get into the foyer, do you?”
“No. I guess we can buzz and see if anyone answers. But I…I can’t remember his apartment number.”
He looks at you swiftly. “Please try to remember.” You can tell it is taking him great effort to keep his voice even and not start shaking you.
But you’ve only been here a couple of times so nothing appears in your head. Seonghwa takes off towards the door, giving you no choice but to follow. He stands in front of the door, looking around to see the chances of someone coming by so he could slink in after them.
“You remember it yet?”
“No, sorry.”
He turns to the set of apartment numbers written out across the buzzers and randomly hits one. No answer. He presses another one.
“Is this your plan?” You ask.
“Yes,” He replies calmly.
“What are you going to do if someone answers?”
“Lie.”
You aren’t sure what to say. This is yet another new side of Seonghwa, one driven by the desperation of someone seeing the tape and finding out what he’s really like.
On the fourth buzz, someone gruffly goes, “Who is it?” The speaker crackles.
“Hi, I live a few places down from you and forgot my key,” Seonghwa says smoothly, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just wanted to get buzzed in real quick.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The door clicks open and the speaker goes silent.
Seonghwa grabs the door handle, shooting you a look as he holds it open. You slip past him into the entrance of the building. Once you stand in the foyer, staring at the row of small mailboxes, the apartment number bounces back into your brain.
“It’s #1117!” You declare, happy at your brain’s ability to recall such a fact.
“Great, let’s go,” Seonghwa says while walking towards the elevator, pressing the button.
The foyer is silent as the two of you wait for the elevator to come down. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little, your nerves getting the best of you. You’re worried about Seonghwa, you’re worried about someone seeing that tape and his secret getting out and you’re still dealing with the fact your mind won’t drop mental images that it shouldn’t be thinking about.
In the elevator, Seonghwa exhales slowly. It is the only sign of tension brewing in him. You marvel at how calm and collected he is. If you were in this situation, there would be no chance of being in control. You’re barely in control of your emotions now, dealing with something that technically would have no impact on your life.
The doors glide open and Seonghwa marches down the quiet hallway. His steps are muffled against the carpet, coming to a stop in front of San and Yeosang’s apartment. He rings the doorbell but there is no reply. He tries again. Nothing.
“Maybe they really have gone to the club already,” You suggest.
In response, Seonghwa bangs his fist against the door before resting his hand against the wood, closing his eyes. You can feel the energy crackling off him, just like that moment in the break room the other day - that same sensation of him wrangling himself under control, shoving his real self into a small box and tying it up with a bow.
“Do you know what club they go to?”
“Yeah. It’s nearby.”
“Let’s go.” He turns around to return to the elevator.
“Wait,” You hurry after Seonghwa, “We’re just going to go to the club and what?”
“Ask where the tape is. If it’s in the apartment, I’m going to ask for San to get it for me. If he still has it on him, I’ll just ask for it back.”
“How are you going to explain why you need it so badly without…you know.”
The elevator arrives and he steps inside. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when we get there.”
You stand next to him, feeling the warmth off his body. He’s wearing a form fitting white sweater today due to the temperature and you cannot help but notice how it lays across his chest. His black jeans are also snug against his slender waist. It is difficult to look at him and not picture the images of him on the beach and in the bedroom. Cheeks getting warm, you stare steadfastly ahead at the elevator doors, which finally open to release you from the ever growing tension.
Back outside, Seonghwa is hurriedly walking back to the car. The sun has fully dipped below the horizon now, the last strands of dying daylight long gone. You cross your arms, the cold seeping into the fabric of your hoodie.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively as he reaches the car, “Do you wanna talk about it now? Since Rupaul isn’t playing, I mean.”
“I really don’t.”
“I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”
His hand, hovering over the handle of the car door, drops back to his side. His eyes are on you, focused in a way they haven’t been since the news of the tape landing in San’s hands were uttered to him. You suddenly feel exposed.
Seonghwa crosses the small gap in a couple of seconds, looking at you intensely. “What do you want to talk about exactly? You want to discuss something, surely, and I don’t think that it is about your apology.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” You mumble quickly, balking at the way his eyes tear through your defenses.
“You want to know more about the tape? You want to know what I do in my spare time?”
“N-no!” You lie, “No, I just didn’t want this to mess up anything between us.”
Seonghwa shakes his head, pulling away from you and exhaling slowly before he loses his cool. “There isn’t time to sit and chat about everything. Can you please just get in the car and tell me where this club San goes to is?”
You nod silently and Seonghwa turns around, getting into the car. Rooted to the spot for a moment, your heart thrumming in your chest, you try to ignore that little voice in your head – a voice entirely new, one that you don’t know what to do with.
What if you stopped getting yourself back in control, Seonghwa? What would that look like? I want to see what it looks like. I want to see what the real you is and I want to keep pressing against that exterior until it cracks.
You’ve never dealt with such a desire before. It is as if a giant dog is tugging you along on a leash and you can’t pull it back. You can dig your heels against the pavement, yank on the leash and beg for the dog to stop but it doesn’t work. The little voice in your head, the centre of your curiosity about Seonghwa mixed with your attraction to him, is a dangerous thing.
Perhaps it isn’t just Seonghwa who is always struggling to remain cool, calm and collected in every situation. Maybe you’re not so different from him.
*
Twenty minutes later, Seonghwa is parking at the club San frequents. The place is crowded with a line snaking around the outside of the building. Seonghwa stares at the line quietly after turning off the car. You know what he is thinking – time is important and he isn’t going to waste it waiting in a long line with the risk of the bouncer saying no. His fingers are curled lightly around the steering wheel, his brows furrowed together in concentration.
“What’s the plan? You gonna gank someone’s VIP pass?” You joke lightly.
He shifts, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and opening it. His fingers glide across the bills inside as he counts them quickly before looking in your direction. “How much cash do you have on you?”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you back,” Seonghwa says impatiently, “We’re just going to bribe the bouncer and skip the line.”
“Is – is that allowed?”
“No.”
“Oh. Uhm,” You fish your wallet out of your bag. “I have a hundred bucks.”
“Great, and I have two hundred,” He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers at you.
“Wait, we’re going to give the bouncer three hundred dollars?” You ask incredulously.
“No, we’re going to start with a hundred and go from there,” Seonghwa explains, “They might be content with that. Your money is last resort.” When you hesitate, he sighs. “I told you, I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back immediately. I’ll pay you back tonight. As soon as I get the tape. Don’t start wiggin out on me now.”
“I am not wiggin out,” You say defensively, “I just have never bribed someone before.”
“Technically, I’m bribing. You’re merely watching.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, an awkward silence settles across the car. Seonghwa neatly averts his gaze, pretending to be fascinated with the money in his wallet. You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the tape.
You thrust the money at him which he takes with a mumbled thanks before getting out of the car. You look down at your hoodie and work pants, unable to recall if this place has a dress code or not. Probably, given the long line. You sigh, opening the car door and trailing after Seonghwa.
He stops at one point, looking over his shoulder at you. “Are you comfortable pretending we’re on a date?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to bribe the bouncer under the guise that I’m trying to impress you. Can I put my arm around you when we get up there? I won’t do anything else.”
“How do you come up with this shit?” You say without thinking, “The entire night, you just seamlessly come up with these ideas and lies and stories.” Every interaction we’ve had before tonight has been pleasant and normal to the point where I thought you were attractive but a little boring, is what you don’t add on to the sentence, and now I’m seeing all sorts of sides to you I never thought lurked inside.
Seonghwa ignores the question, instead asking one of his own. “Are you comfortable with me putting my arm around your waist?”
“Yeah, fine,” You mumble although the idea of him touching your body is making your skin warm.
“Alright. Try not to look so nervous.”
Seonghwa walks towards the club with a confidence you cannot hope to possibly mimic. Gone is the easy going attitude he carries at work. Instead, he acts as though he owns the place and is merely popping by to give it a look. His arm circles around your waist as the bouncer comes into view. You can hear people complaining about him cutting the line but Seonghwa doesn’t pay them any attention.
His arm around your waist is distracting in an agonizing way. Every nerve in your body has awakened to him and the desire is dizzying. As you approach the bouncer, Seonghwa nods his head in the man’s direction, extending his hand outward and slipping the hundred dollars in his palm.
“How’s it hangin?” Seonghwa asks casually, pulling you closer against him.
The bouncer glances quickly down at the money and replies evenly, “Could be better.”
Another hundred dollars is given and the bouncer pretends to study his clipboard and nods, moving to the side. “You’re on the list. Have a good night.”
Seonghwa nods, guiding you past him and into the club. On the way in, he brings his lips close to your ear and murmurs, “See? Didn’t even need your cash.”
You’re feeling slightly in awe of the Seonghwa on display tonight – gone is the fake work personality, just someone tackling the situation at hand in whatever way would work best even if it included lying. His arm is still around your waist, his body angled at a slight slant as he leads you through the crowd of people and onto the main dance floor.
The music is loud, cramming your skull immediately as a crush of people squeeze against Seonghwa and yourself. The flickering lights dance over Seonghwa’s hair as his grip tightens on your waist so the two of you don’t get separated. He pulls you along until he finds an alcove, releasing his hold and facing you.
“Do you know where they’d be?” He shouts.
“The dance floor! San always talks about dancing a lot when he’s here!” You yell back.
Seonghwa scowls. “I fucking hate clubs!”
Your hand reaches for his, pulling him out of the alcove and towards the main dance floor while This Is Your Night blasts so loudly that you can feel it vibrate along your bones. Wiggling through the vast swarm of people, you successfully make your way to the main dance floor. It is impossible to find San in the crush of people. Seonghwa tugs on your hand, getting your attention while pointing to a large staircase leading to the second floor.
You nod and he takes the lead, quickly lost in a sea of gauzy club clothes in colours that could cause someone’s retinas to bleed, seeing more cleavage and mini dresses than you thought possible in one space. Your hoodie and work pants and lack of high heels have you receiving a few confused glances as Seonghwa works his way through the crowd.
Of course, you also notice that Seonghwa is attracting a lot of attention in his own way. No one seems to care that his outfit isn’t club attire in the same way they cared about yours. While making your way up the stairs, you can hear giggles follow as people check Seonghwa out. This sparks an intense irritation in your chest for reasons you can’t fully explain.
Standing on one of the stairs, you gaze out across the dance floor, squinting to try to spot San or Wooyoung. Someone bangs into your side, cursing at you standing there. Seonghwa turns around sharply, glowering at the woman with such an intensity that she scampers up the rest of the stairs, wobbling on her strappy sandals with huge heels. His hand is on your lower back protectively.
“We are standing right on the stairs,” You shout at him.
“I don’t care,” He says crossly, “They can move around us. The staircase is huge.”
Seonghwa’s gaze is steady on yours and for a few seconds, time seems to stretch out. The music becomes background noise, his hand against your back, his body facing yours. He has one strand of hair that has come out of place, betraying his inner turmoil that he has been attempting to hide all night.
You bring your hand upwards, pushing his hair back into place before you can stop yourself. He reaches for you, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. Your breath catches, thrown off by his touch and the intensity of his stare. For a brief second, you think it is finally going to happen – the fissures that have formed in Seonghwa’s carefully constructed polite personality are going to shatter –
But then, over his shoulder, you spot San weaving his way away from the bar, holding two drinks over his head, heading towards a small table where Wooyoung is.
“I found them!” You exclaim and the moment passes as Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he spots San.
He swiftly turns around to head back down the stairs, holding onto your hand again. His impatience is exposed through the way he practically shoves his way through the crowd. The time the grumbles are not of admiration but of annoyance. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to care.
San’s eyes widen when he spots you and one eyebrow raises at the sight of Seonghwa holding your hand. Suddenly embarrassed, you pull your hand away from him although Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice. He’s on a mission and only one thing is on his mind.
The print on San’s shirt defies logic and reasoning, distantly reminding you of a Taco Bell you stepped into a few weeks ago. Paired with even more colourful pants, you are unsure how it took this long to spot him in the crowd.
“What are you two doing here?” San exclaims loudly.
Without preamble, Seonghwa goes, “I need the Scream tape back.”
“You came all this way for that?” He asks confused.
Wooyoung slides out of the small booth he was occupying, plucking the drink out of San’s hand. Tonight, he’s wearing a nylon dark pink button up with three of the buttons undone, exposing his tanned chest. His pants are so tight that you aren’t sure how he even got into them.
Wooyoung waves at you and goes, “Who is your friend?”
“New coworker,” San exclaims over the music before turning his attention back to Seonghwa. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Yeosang when I got home and he took it with him when he left.”
Seonghwa’s hands flex at his sides, a motion only you notice. “Where is he?”
“I think he’s out with Mingi and Jongho tonight. They were gonna watch the movie at Mingi’s place. We were going to meet them there later.”
“Where is he now?” Seonghwa grinds out between clenched teeth.
San is picking up on the tension, glancing at you but your expression gives nothing away. “Is everything alright? Why do you need the tape back so badly?”
“I’ll explain later. I just need it back tonight,” Seonghwa replies.
Wooyoung, who has been silent this entire conversation, his eyes bouncing between the two men, throws his arm around San’s shoulders while pointing at Seonghwa, still holding his drink. “Who is this guy? I like him. He gets right to the point. He’s very money, you know what I mean?”
You interrupt quickly. “It’s to do with me, San. Please don’t ask any questions.”
It’s a lie, of course, but you know San will respect your request. You can feel Seonghwa’s eyes flick to you for a second.
“Yeah, it’s no problem. I don’t mean to be pushy. Yeosang is at the minigolf course. The one with the big wizard in the middle, you know it?”
“I do, yeah. Thanks for the help.”
“It’s all good,” San replies.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna hang?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, “We’re just getting started here.”
“I appreciate the offer but we gotta bounce. Nice meeting you.” Seonghwa is already turning away, eyes darting towards the exit.
You give the two men a small wave and then it is back to being smushed in the crowd, wiggling through the writhing bodies as the music pulsates around you. You’re walking behind Seonghwa, his hand searching for yours so the two of you don’t get separated. Your fingers curl around his and you find yourself studying the curve of his neck, the way his shoulders look in his sweater. From this angle, you can just make out the muscles underneath the tight fabric.
Seonghwa glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re alright. You can’t read his gaze; something shifts behind it, ever changing and unfolding. In that moment, it feels as if you’ve known him forever, in a thousand different locations across a thousand different universes.
Back into the night air, Seonghwa turns to face you. “Do you know what minigolf course San was talking about?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Great, come on.” He takes off across the parking lot towards the car. His back is illuminated by the neon from the sign of the club, dousing him in a bright blue that his hair soaks up.
You follow, catching up with him as Seonghwa asks, “What are you gonna tell San when he asks why you needed the tape?”
“I don’t know. I just said that because I knew he would drop it.”
“Well, you bought us time,” He remarks, opening the door to the car, “Tell me how to get to the minigolf course.”
Back in the passenger seat, you can still feel the tension rolling off Seonghwa. Unable to help yourself, you try to reassure him. “We’ll find Yeosang there. I’m sure he will have the tape on him. It’s nearby too.”
Seonghwa brushes off your words. “Just tell me how to get there.”
*
It takes fifteen minutes to get to the minigolf course. A large garish wizard hat juts out of the centre of the course, covered in purple lights to make it glow. There is an assortment of other tacky objects sticking upwards – palm trees, a poorly made replica of the leaning tower of Pisa, a UFO that used to rotate five years ago but has since broken down and not been repaired.
Seonghwa gazes at the sight through the windshield, clearly assessing the situation before getting out of the car. You take off after him, fighting the urge to grab his hand. It made sense in the club, not here.
As you approach the entrance, the sound of top 40 radio plays loudly over speakers. Seonghwa bypasses the ticket booth completely, instead opting to head directly onto the course. But a bored looking employee glances up from the magazine he’s reading and gets to his feet quickly.
“Whoa, hey there, homeslice. I need to see the ticket.” He extends his hand out to Seonghwa.
“I’m not playing,” He says quickly, “I just am getting something from a friend.”
“Sure, I can just let anyone pass by without a ticket,” The man rolls his eyes, “No ticket, no entrance.”
“It’ll take less than five minutes,” Seonghwa protests, the agitation at being so close and so far starting to get to him.
You hover by his side and quietly go, “Seonghwa, let’s just go buy a ticket.”
“I don’t want to buy a ticket. The ticket is for playing minigolf and I’m not playing,” He grinds out, staring at the attendant, “So, just let me in.”
The attendant, who is stuck wearing an ugly polyester blue button up, looks positively thrilled at finally having something interesting happening. “No can do, dude,” He says gleefully.
You grab Seonghwa’s upper arm, briefly distracted by the firm muscles underneath, before carting him away from the entrance. While gesturing to the ticket booth, you go, “Let’s just buy a ticket. Do you really wanna throw down with the guy working the minigolf course? We won’t get to Yeosang that way.”
“I don’t care,” He says stubbornly, “He’s being an asshole.”
Your irritation gets the best of you. “If you could wrangle your repressed anger under control for two seconds –”
“My what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Seonghwa. The entire night, you’ve been furious at me and just won’t say it. So, you just shove everything down and ignore it and pretend you’re so calm and collected but you’re not –”
Seonghwa takes a step towards you. His demeanor is icy cold now. “Not everything is about you,” He replies in a tone that could frost over a window, “As much as you want it to be.”
Your eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“If I’ve been repressing anger all night, you’ve been holding back too. The multiple attempts to steer the conversation back to how sorry you are, how you found the tape, how little you watched of it.” Another step closer, close enough to touch now. “Why don’t you stop bullshitting and just admit you wanna ask me questions about the tape and what I do in my spare time?”
You hadn’t thought it was that obvious. Seonghwa striking the centre of your heart with his accusation makes your breath catch. You can’t bring yourself to reply.
“The tape not only has me on it but also my ex. It violates her privacy for anyone else to see it, not just mine. That’s the most important thing going on right now, not you having some sort of sexual awakening at seeing a few minutes of it.”
You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, knowing Seonghwa is correct but also feeling exposed at the same time. He stalks off past you, going towards the ticket booth. The employee at the entrance is gawking at the two of you although he didn’t hear anything said.
“You and your boyfriend are pretty intense,” He says over the din of top forty music.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” You mumble, looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa is smiling casually at the person working the ticket booth. All earlier signs of irritation are wiped clean from his beautiful face. He is chatting as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Was I really that obvious? Or is he just that good at reading people? You are embarrassed but manage to make your facial expression look as placid as possible when Seonghwa returns to you.
“Ready?” He asks as if the two of you hadn’t just been at each other’s throats a couple of minutes ago.
After you nod, Seonghwa thrusts the tickets at the attendant who takes them in an over the top gesture and tacks on, “Have a good night!”
Entering the minigolf course, you stop to grab one of the little putters. Seonghwa notices and drawls, “Really?”
You hand it off to him. “Yes, really. You wanna blend in or look like the weird guy stalking across a golf course?”
He takes it, holding it daintily with his long fingers while studying it. “You were right. About the ticket. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
You’re holding your own putter now, staring at him. “I know. I wouldn’t think clearly in your situation either.”
Seonghwa looks at you for a long moment. You get the sense he wants to say more but he gives a small shake of his head, turning his attention back to the course. “Come on. We’ll just start at the first hole and wander around until you spot them.”
The next ten minutes are spent navigating the busy course which includes a moment where Seonghwa ducks to avoid a little kid swinging the putter and another where you almost lose your footing and awkwardly trip off a tiny fake bridge. There are a few questioning glances shot in your direction as the two of you bypass playing completely while you try to spot Yeosang.
Finally, near the gigantic wizard hat, you spot him along with who you assume is Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang, in baggy jeans and an oversized green hoodie, looks to be talking very animatedly with a tall man who is wildly gesturing. The other man is watching them with an amused expression on his face as if it is a very funny TV show.
“There they are.” You nudge Seonghwa to get his attention. “Are you doing the talking or am I?”
“You start and I’ll follow. Yeosang is familiar with you and doesn’t know me.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
You cut across a particularly ugly ice cream cone that is the centre of hole number ten and call out Yeosang’s name. He looks up in surprise but waves when he sees you.
“Wassup? Didn’t know you like minigolfing,” He says as you and Seonghwa stop in front of the group. “Mingi and I were just having a disagreement about how many hits he took to get the ball in the hole.”
The tall man, who is dressed entirely in acid wash denim, protests. “It was four strokes. You’re saying five and that’s not true.”
The other guy, who must be Jongho, goes, “Can we please move on? I want to get an Icee.”
“In this temperature?” Mingi asks, momentarily distracted.
Jongho tugs on his long sleeve, wearing a plaid dress shirt with all the buttons undone, a black t-shirt underneath, topped off with a simple pair of jeans. “It isn’t that cold in this.”
Seonghwa, who is already radiating an intense energy that will be overflowing at any second, swiftly interrupts, “Sorry, but I was talking to San and he said you had the Scream tape?”
Yeosang nods. “Yeah, it’s in my bag. Oh! You must be the coworker he is borrowing it from?”
“That’s right. I just need to see it for a second please.”
“Sure,” He turns around, scooping his bag off the ground which it had been unceremoniously dumped on and pulls out the tape, handing it to Seonghwa. “There you go.”
“Thanks so much,” Seonghwa replies calmly.
He immediately pries his fingers into the slots and begins to unspool the tape, wildly tugging it out onto the ground. Everyone, including yourself, falls silent, watching as Seonghwa then drops the plastic shell onto the ground and begins to take the putter to it. His hair falls out of place as he beats the shit out of the VHS tape with the putter, the shell cracking from the sheer force at which he strikes it.
“This dude is wacked,” Mingi mumbles.
“I heard Scream was a good movie,” Jongho says, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Guess we won’t find out now,” Yeosang replies dryly, “I suppose we’re watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 tonight.”
Seonghwa exhales, his cheeks puffing out while doing so, tossing the putter to the ground while scooping up the remains of the VHS tape. He runs his fingers through his hair although it doesn’t fix it.
“Thanks guys. Have a good night.” Seonghwa says as if he just didn’t go postal in the middle of the minigolf course.
He glances at you before taking off back the way he came. You give an apologetic look at Yeosang, unsure what to say and settling on nothing. Following Seonghwa, who is still holding onto what little of the tape remained, with the cheery pop music playing over the sound of laughter and people talking, you aren’t sure if speaking right now would help him. Does he need comfort? Is he relieved? He showed no hesitation in destroying the tape immediately. Had that been his plan the entire night?
Luckily for the attendant working the entrance, the exit loops around the other side of the course, taking you both into the parking lot before Seonghwa can start bickering with him again. He drops the pieces of the plastic casing into the nearest trash can although he is still holding the film, wrapping it carefully around his slender fingers.
“Seonghwa,” You say tentatively and he stops, looking over at you.
In the lights of the parking lot, Seonghwa is a slim figure with his black hair glowing. His breathing is slightly uneven, his features not nearly as collected as they’ve been all night. There is something raw wiggling underneath the surface of his composure, something you desperately want to touch.
“I’ll take you back to your place now,” He says roughly, “Come on.”
You don’t know what to reply with so you merely nod. A few minutes later, the car is pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. You quietly tell Seonghwa how to get to your apartment from here. The tape is in his lap, the film nestled like a snake in between his thighs. You wonder what he will do with it. Set it on fire, maybe. He seems intent on destroying it completely. You understand why but still feel a pain of regret in your chest. There would be no viewing the rest of the tape now.
You suddenly feel very tired. Between work and the entire events of the sex tape, you’re ready to crawl in bed and sleep in tomorrow. You lean back in the seat, staring idly out the window. The radio is playing music quietly and Seonghwa doesn’t say a word. You still get the sense he is wrangling himself in. Does he do that all the time? Why bother? Why shield yourself from people to the extent he does? You see his smile from the tape in your mind once again. To your surprise, you feel a spark of jealousy buried in your chest. His ex got to see the real Seonghwa while you’ve been seeing his façade. You want to know him like that. You want to touch him like that.
The silent admission to yourself is unsettling. It’s been ages since you’ve wanted someone. Your attraction to Seonghwa earlier this week seems easier to digest when you thought your personalities wouldn’t be compatible. But his words outside the minigolf course were correct – those few minutes of him on your TV screen are making something deep inside you stir.
The streetlights swim lazily across Seonghwa as he drives silently. They blend in with his white sweater before appearing on his tanned skin, small pools of light that travel over his body before eventually being lost behind the car.
When he parks at your apartment complex, he goes, “I’ll walk you to your door.”
This time, you don’t refuse. Back into the cold air, you stop at the outskirts of the pool near the staircase to the second floor.
“Seonghwa,” You say again, your hand resting against the cold metal of the banister, “Now that you got the tape, and everything is sorted out, I really –”
“Don’t,” He says swiftly, “You’re going to apologize again. It isn’t your fault. I already told you that.”
“I know what you said,” You are two steps up on the staircase, looking slightly down at Seonghwa, whose hand is inches from yours on the banister, “But outside of the golf course…”
“Was I too harsh?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re pretending all the time,” You say after a beat of silence, “When I met you earlier this week, you were pleasant enough. But it’s obvious that isn’t what you’re really like. Just the few minutes of the tape showed that to me. And I’ve caught it once or twice before, at work, when you are obviously shoving your real self back down. Throughout tonight, I’ve seen glimpses of who you actually are – the quick lying, the flashes of irritation, your nerves at someone seeing the tape…I just don’t understand why you hide it everywhere but on a VHS tape.”
There. You said what you’ve been thinking the whole night. Seonghwa’s face doesn’t change the entire time you speak. But you aren’t fooled by it anymore.
Seonghwa places his feet on the first step of the staircase. He’s extremely close to you now; his body’s warmth seeps into your skin. You fight the urge to place your hands against his chest to pull on his sweater so that he will kiss you.
You aren’t sure what his reply was going to be but you aren’t prepared for the way his voice drops to almost a murmur. “You’re really intrigued about the tape, aren’t you? I wonder what makes you so curious. It is the idea of letting the camera see all of you for who you truly are? Is it just the idea of fucking and recording it that you find so compelling? Maybe both.”
You’ve gone still, frozen in surprise at the words leaving his mouth. He leans forward, his lips so close to your ear that your heart skips a beat. “Do you regret turning the tape off when you did? Your conscience prevailed; you did the morally right thing in a few minutes. Others would have watched the entire thing. But some part of you wishes it kept it running so you could watch me fuck my ex, listen to what we talked about. You know, I was so focused on getting rid of the tape, I don’t even know what one this one contains. We filmed so many,” He lingers on the last word as your brain fills up with mental images of tape after tape of Seonghwa, “What happened in the first few minutes of the tape?”
Shakily, you manage to whisper, “You were on a beach. And then in a diner. Finally, a hotel room.”
You don’t see Seonghwa smile but you can feel it, like an arrow in the dark, so fast that the sensation is gone in a second. “The vacation tape,” He pauses and continues, “I prefer being on film. Being seen. I feel comfortable and at ease. The camera misses nothing. The lens cuts through everything. All the noise and the bullshit. It isn’t about watching it back later. It isn’t about sharing it. I fill a tape, shove it in the collection. Destroy them when the relationship ends. Rinse and repeat. It’s about capturing that one moment and putting it on film. Everything when the camera isn’t on feels like bullshit. I feel like bullshit.”
“Why?”
Seonghwa shakes his head. “Dunno. Just always have. I only exist when the camera is on. Otherwise, I can’t be myself. Been that way forever. I’ll ask you again – did you regret turning the tape off?”
It doesn’t even enter your mind to lie. “Yes.”
“You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?”
Your body is growing hot all over. You wish Seonghwa would touch you. His hand is so close to yours that you would settle for him just to brush his fingers against your skin.
“Yes,” You whisper so quietly that if he weren’t so close to you, it would have been impossible to hear. You aren’t even sure what question you’re answering. Maybe it is both.
But Seonghwa pulls away abruptly then. With his warmth gone, it feels like a hole has opened in your chest. He runs his fingers through his hair but you take note of the slightly uneven way he is breathing. You want to grab him, see him for who he really is with no pretenses, have the camera lens on his body while he –
“I need to get home. I won’t be able to relax until I finish destroying the film,” His eyes trail along your body quickly and it feels deeply personal to have Seonghwa look at you in such a manner, “Goodnight.”
You don’t want him to go. You want him to follow you to your apartment and fuck you silly. But he turns around and in a couple of seconds, he has rounded the corner, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your desires and the briefest glimmer of the man Seonghwa truly is.
Monday, October 13th, 1997
“You gonna explain why Seonghwa opened up a can of whoop-ass on a VHS tape in the middle of a minigolf course on Saturday night or am I not privy to that information?”
You stifle a groan, unable to duck and dodge San any longer. You had yesterday off, which didn’t end up being as fun as it sounded, due to the fact all you did was lay in bed running the events of Saturday night over and over in your head.
And you still hadn’t come up with any sort of realistic story to tell San about the tape especially since Seonghwa had opted to destroy it with a minigolf putter.
“It’s complicated,” You finally settle on.
San’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Complicated? Should I be concerned about your little work crush? Could he be a little…unwell?”
“He’s not unwell,” You say defensively, “It’s just complicated. Can you just drop it, please? It was his tape, after all.”
“Just makes no sense. You said the situation had to do with you. But why did Seonghwa go postal on the tape like that?”
You’re starting to get a headache. You’ve had way too much coffee before coming into work and your nerves are frazzled between the idea of seeing Seonghwa and how much time you’ve spent analyzing his words to you Saturday night before he left. Yes you told him on the staircase, yes you wanted to watch the entire tape, yes you wanted to see him have sex with his ex and yes, you wanted to be on film with him. A jarring admission, one that you’re still grappling with.
“San, my break ended a few minutes ago. Just please, for the sake of our friendship, I’m asking you to drop the entire thing.”
He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Fine. Consider it dropped. However, it is not forgotten.”
“I’ll take it, thanks,” You reply, heading quickly to the exit. “Listen, I’ll help you with inventory sometime this week, okay?”
“You’re just sucking up to me.”
“Yes, but you hate inventory,” You fire back over your shoulder.
“I do so I’ll accept it!” He calls after you.
Back in the store, you meander your way towards to the women’s clothing department. Part of you is desperate to run into Seonghwa while the other part is dreading it. What do you even say to him? Just a simple hello? How can you look him in the face knowing his entire personality is carefully curated bullshit to hide who he really is? How can you talk to him after what he said to you last night? How can you hold a conversation when you are so desperate to have him?
You end up avoiding the shortcut through the men’s clothing section. Even so, your eyes carefully scan the area for any sight of him among the racks of ugly dresses and t-shirts. Once you’re safely in the dressing rooms, reorganizing and cleaning out the mess people leave behind, you relax slightly.
You wanted to watch me fuck my ex? Or did you want to be on that tape with me?
Seonghwa’s words bang around in your brain no matter how much you try to push them away. Even as you go through the motions of work, your mind lingers on how warm his body was so close to yours on the stairs, the low timber of his voice in your ear, and how he saw through you and all your pretenses.
In fact, you’re so swept up in work and your thoughts, that you don’t realize Seonghwa is in the dressing room area until he says your name. Flinching in surprise, you look over your shoulder.
He stands there in his blue work vest, his arms so full of clothes that it looks like they could spill onto the floor at any second. Seonghwa’s face is beautifully impassive. You get the sense he has also been avoiding you.
“Wanted to drop off all the women’s clothes that ended up in the men’s dressing rooms before my shift ends,” He explains in a clipped tone.
“Right. Thanks.” You move closer, trying to take the clothes from him.
But there is simply too much and a good portion falls onto the floor. Your hands brush against his in the mess of fabric, sending your heart racing so quickly that it almost makes your chest hurt. Seonghwa is staring at you through his long lashes although his eyes dart away when yours meet his.
You manage to wrangle a good chunk of the clothes away, tossing it onto the small table at the end of the hallway that you use to organize them. “You can just dump the rest here.”
Seonghwa does so and then an awkward silence settles across the empty dressing rooms. The store closes in ten minutes. You didn’t think you’d be seeing Seonghwa at all today. We filmed so many he had whispered, teasing you with the mental images of whatever lurked on those tapes.
“Do you want any help?” He offers.
“I got it, thanks,” You say quickly, knowing the longer he stands next to you, the higher chance there is at the conversation going sideways.
His fingers are touching one of the t-shirts, his expression unfocused. “I wanted to apologize.”
You hesitate and then go, “For what?”
“I was pretty…intense Saturday night. I also talked to you out of line at the end there,” He swallows, staring at the pile of clothes as if they were a fascinating creature, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
You feel stuck. It would be simpler to accept the apology and put the entire thing in the past. But a much larger part of you has shifted since discovering what Seonghwa is really like, brought to life by his words and the images on the tape, growing louder every passing moment. It is difficult to ignore these new feelings inside your chest.
“It’s all good. It was a stressful situation. I think it would make anyone start trippin although San is asking questions and I have nothing to tell him. It is a little harder to come up with a story when you…beat the shit out of the tape in front of everyone.”
“Yeah,” He looks at you sheepishly. “I lost my cool for a sec.”
“Cracked your pleasant exterior there,” You joke quietly.
His lips twist up into a smile for a brief second. You’re feeling hot all over, knowing it would be far easier just to let the conversation stop here. Easier to return to the way things were before the tape. Let Seonghwa be a work crush and nothing else.
“But, uhm,” You pick up a shirt, carefully folding it so that you don’t have to look at him, “I didn’t mind how you talked to me. At the end of the night.”
Seonghwa’s breathing changes slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed a few days ago. But it is as if viewing the tape, learning about who he is and spending Saturday night with him has synced you up to Seonghwa in a new way.
“Is that right?” He finally replies, his voice even and without emotion.
“Yeah, I’ve been…thinking about what you said,” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying your nerves.
Seonghwa moves ever so slightly closer to you. Relief swoops through your body at his close proximity. “What about it?” He murmurs.
You take in a small breath and go, “I was thinking about asking you to come over. Tomorrow night.”
He hesitates for a small second. “To your place?”
“Yeah. I mean. If you’d want.” You are a mixture of anxiety and desire.
But you push through it to look at Seonghwa’s face. You recognize the expression this time – he is teying to maintain his calm exterior, aware that he is at work and in a public setting.
“Should I bring anything?” He asks in a forced nonchalant voice.
Your grip tightens on the shirt. After spending all day trying to dodge Seonghwa, you can’t believe how you’re cracking after a couple of minutes around him. But perhaps avoiding him was your own way of denying what you wanted.
“Maybe your camera,” You say with forced casualness.
But the words seem to crack Seonghwa. He moves closer to you, just as close as the time on the staircase. In a strangled voice, he goes, “You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
Surprised, you exclaim, “What? No, not at all.”
His hand reaches out for you but then thinks better of it. Falling back to his side, he flexes his fingers. His voice drops to a whisper. “I work a closing tomorrow but I’ll come over afterwards.”
You’re done work at five tomorrow which gives you plenty of time to get ready for…whatever you’re getting into. Seonghwa’s gaze is heavy, his energy buzzing. You want to push him, crack him open fully so that you can experience what he is like without any barriers…and maybe you want the same thing for yourself too. You want to know what it would be like being stripped away of all things you carefully hide behind without even realizing it. You just didn’t know that such a thing was so desired until you saw Seonghwa on that tape.
You nod, wanting to say more but nerves getting the best of you. He pulls away, trying to control his breathing. There is a slight flush of colour creeping up his neck. You get a vivid mental image of being on top of him, your hands against his chest, taking him fully inside you –
Quickly, you look away, afraid your thoughts might be all over your face. Seonghwa wishes you a goodnight, leaving the dressing rooms quickly before the energy crackles and explodes, spilling out into work.
He works so hard to keep everything separate, after all.
Tuesday, October 14th, 1997
You’re looking out the window of the living room, staring at the unremarkable view. The neon of the Taco Bell sign washes over the street, bathing the cars in the bright colour for a second or two as they drive by. You can just make out the interior, a swirl of pink, blue and purple, like a little lighthouse in the night.
You don’t think you’ve never felt so nervous staring at Taco Bell before.
It’s past ten which means Seonghwa will be here in about twenty minutes. Having invited him on a whim, driven by a combination of lust and curiosity, you’re now dealing with the reality of what you suggested. In asking him to bring his camera, you’ve basically admitted to him and yourself that you want to see what filming together would be like. And while you’re aware that you can change your mind and tell him to forget it once he arrives, the truth of the matter is that you don’t want to do such a thing.
Your attraction to Seonghwa has only been heightened since seeing the tape, and your own sexual exploration seemed to be spilling out of you with a mighty need. As nervous as you feel, you also have no interest in denying it any longer.
You aren’t sure how long you stare out the window, spacing out, but a soft knock at the door startles your thoughts away. Exhaling slowly, you cross the small living room, opening the front door to see Seonghwa standing there.
He’s wearing a very colourful button up tucked into a pair of blue jeans. A bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is a little messy from the chilly wind. Your heart skips a beat violently at the sight of him.
“Hey. Oh, uh, come in,” You say awkwardly, moving to the side as Seonghwa walks past, “How was work?”
“Fine, the usual. You know how it is. I like your place.”
You blink. “Really? I don’t think it’s anything exciting.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t say it was exciting. I just like how comfortable it looks.”
“Thanks. How are you doing with unpacking your own place?”
Seonghwa places the bag on the coffee table while replying, “Besides the mishap with the tape, it has been uneventful.”
He speaks of the tape so candidly now although given the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?
“Did you and your ex live together long?” It no longer felt awkward to mention his last relationship – so much is different now with Seonghwa.
“We did although that seemed to be our undoing. Only lasted a few months after we moved in together,” He replies while turning to face you. “For the sake of honesty, I haven’t been with anyone else since my relationship ended. Does that bother you?”
“No because I haven’t either. I find those things…distracting. I just was focusing on work and other things in my life.”
“Am I a distraction?”
“What?”
He repeats himself.
Your cheeks grow warm. “I mean – technically, yes.”
Seonghwa is fighting off a smile. You can tell by the way he tilts his face away from your direction to look at your TV.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You offer.
“Just some water is fine, thanks.”
“Alright. Uh, please sit down. Don’t feel like you need to stand there.”
You scamper out of the living room, wishing your nerves would settle. Now that he is here, you feel scattered. Your attraction to him has grown tenfold in the last few days and you can’t remember the last time you’ve wanted someone this much.
Returning with a couple of glasses of water, you sit down next to Seonghwa on the couch. Desperate to fill the silence, you turn on the TV, immediately blasted with a Surge ad.
“Listen,” Seonghwa says after a few minutes, “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I don’t want you to think I went into anything with expectations.”
Hurriedly, you reply, “I know that.”
“I understand you’re curious because the concept is new to you. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to be into it.”
You turn to face him, your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Seonghwa tilts his head in your direction.
“I am curious,” You say quickly, “And I don’t really understand why. I’ve never thought about something like that until I saw those few minutes of the tape. And I…” You swallow, feeling shy. “Well, I only think about it with you. I was attracted to you right away but…you seemed so…nice. As if there wasn’t a lot going on underneath the surface. So, I assumed the attraction would never deepen. But after I saw the tape…I felt like I saw you.”
“And?” He prompts.
“And I was intrigued. At you. At the idea of filming stuff like that. The idea of a camera around, catching all these private moments. I started realizing how much you pull yourself under control, how you’re wearing a mask all the time.”
“Everyone wears a mask in public. Most people just don’t realize it.”
“You think I’m realizing it now then?”
“Maybe. I don’t want to speak over your feelings or pretend I know what you’re thinking of. But yes, you’re right about me. I struggle with being vulnerable, being myself. I always switch into this false personality. I don’t even mean to do it.”
“But you don’t do it while recording.”
“That’s right. Something about seeing that little red light on switches it off.”
“And what about…” Your shyness deepens.
“Filming myself having sex?” After you nod, Seonghwa goes, “It just turns me on. Makes sex better. Makes me more relaxed. In that moment of filming, I feel free. Capturing those moments of pleasure…it feels crucial to my enjoyment.”
“Has everyone you’ve been dating into it too?”
“After I realized how much I like it, yeah. When the relationship ends, I destroy all the tapes. Just out of respect. Recording it isn’t really about watching it back anyway. It’s just about that moment of filming the intimacy of it.”
You fall silent, battling more questions and your ever growing desire for Seonghwa. He turns his attention back to the TV, although you get the feeling he really isn’t engrossed in the episode of NYPD Blue playing. Your eyes land on the large bag he brought.
Could you record yourself sleeping with Seonghwa? Knowing that moment would be captured on a tape with him? It’s all you have been thinking about since discovering Seonghwa’s secret. But now that you can make it a reality, your nerves are still battling for dominance.
“Could I see it?” You ask suddenly, “The camera, I mean.”
“Sure,” He replies, leaning forward and pulling the bag towards him.
Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a large and chunky camcorder, resting it in his lap. He runs his fingers along the side where the spot for the tape opens while saying, “I was reading that they’re making these new cameras that are apparently a lot smaller and would be digital, if you could imagine such a thing. Would make filming a lot easier than this heavy thing.”
“So you don’t…hold it during…”
He laughs. “No. I just plop it down on a table or something during sex. But if the digital cameras end up truly becoming a thing, I suppose I could hold it during sex. Or you could,” He immediately realizes what he casually said and looks embarrassed. “Not that I meant – I don’t mean to assume that we would sleep together. Or you would be comfortable filming anything.”
You reach for the camera, grabbing it out of his lap and into your own, studying it. It isn’t as though it’s your first time holding such a thing but it has been a while. “How do you start recording?”
“You insert the tape and then press this button,” He leans closer, showing you where it is located.
You study his face, eyes lingering on his lips. “Where’s the tape?”
Seonghwa meets your gaze for a beat before moving away to retrieve it from the bag. He presses a button, the side popping out so he can insert the VHS tape. Snapping it shut, he says, “Then you can hit record. Each tape can roughly film for two hours.”
You hesitate for a moment before reaching for the camera. Your fingers touch his, an electric vibration that sparks along your skin. You can hear Seonghwa’s breath catch slightly but he relinquishes the camera. You look into the camera’s viewfinder while popping the cover off the lens.
You know what you want – Seonghwa and the exploration the recording will bring. Even though it is something you’ve never thought of until that moment you saw Seonghwa on your TV, with his beautiful smile, toned chest and low voice talking dirty, it seems to have awakened something deep inside you. Something that won’t rest, won’t stop, until you explore your desires.
You press down on the record button, making sure Seonghwa is in frame. You know he can see the red light, aware that you’re recording.
“Tell me about the first time you filmed yourself having sex,” You ask bluntly.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow although the chuckle he emits makes it clear he isn’t offended. “You interviewing me now?”
“A little.”
“It actually wasn’t my idea, if you can believe it. My girlfriend at the time brought it up to me one night after she noticed how much I liked recording home movies.”
“Did she notice how comfortable you seemed on camera?”
“Yeah, she did. It felt like a natural progression to me like oh, why hadn’t I thought of it? I was always trying to get in front of the camera ever since I can remember. But she was the first one to suggest taking it that far.”
“Were you nervous?”
“No.” Seonghwa looks relaxed now. The tension you hadn’t even realized he carried has now softened, his shoulders are lowered while he leans against the couch, still facing you. His hair grazes against his cheek from the angle. You catch yourself admiring his face, the slope of his nose, how his fingers rest in his lap. “No, I felt comfortable right away. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You ever think about filming yourself having sex before?”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Not until my tape.”
“That’s right.”
“You like filming me?” He asks and after you nod, he goes, “This time, you don’t have to shut it off before it gets to the good part.”
“A little cocky now, don’t you think?”
He gives a casual shrug. This is the Seonghwa you saw on the TV – relaxed, confident, letting each emotion come easily without judgement. This is the Seonghwa you’ve wanted.
You lean back against the couch, the camera still recording in your lap while motioning to the front of the TV. “Why don’t you show me how comfortable you are in front of the camera?” You can hardly believe the words after you say them. I guess it isn’t just Seonghwa who shows new sides of himself to the camera.
But Seonghwa only grins at your request, getting up and standing in front of the TV. He pulls the colourful shirt from the confines of his jeans, his fingers swiftly undoing the buttons to expose a thin white tank top underneath. Your heart rate is already accelerating at the sight of the fabric resting against his taunt stomach.
“Is this what you wanted?” He teases and your thighs clench at the fact you’re hearing that tone of voice being used on you now.
“Don’t be coy.”
Another grin. Yes, Seonghwa is correct – that little red light on from the camera changes him entirely. He shrugs out of the shirt, exposing his shoulders before it falls to the floor. Wearing just the tank top now, he hooks his thumbs into the front of his jeans, staring at you with an expression that looks almost devious.
“What?” You say defensively.
His grin widens. “Nothing. You’re just obvious.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
You stand up, holding the heavy camera while ambling towards him. He reaches for the camera, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the top of the TV stand, giving the lens a view of your faces down to just under your shoulders.
After he finishes positioning the camera, Seonghwa turns his attention back to you. He is as close to your body as he was the other night on the stairs. Your breathing is uneven, aware of the camera on you, aware of everything you’ve been secretly thinking about is going to come to fruition.
“See?” He murmurs.
“What?”
Seonghwa smirks while running one finger down along your arm and your body shivers in response. “That. How much you want me.”
“Well, some of us aren’t experts at hiding ourselves all the time,” You counter.
His lips hover just above yours, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. Your body is screaming for Seonghwa, your brain buzzing with need, lips parted in anticipation.
There is no witty retort from him. Instead, Seonghwa kisses you. Softly at first, enough to shake the centre of you. His lips against yours makes you feel slightly delirious as if not realizing you were dying of thirst. The camera’s gaze remains steady on both of you while the kiss continues. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth so tenderly that your hands hold onto the band of his jeans to steady yourself.
Your whimper is muffled against the kiss, face warm, body responsive to this man you’ve only known for a week – and only truly known for a few days. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as yours circle around his small waist, pressing him against your body. He is stiff in his jeans but still his hands travel downward until they rest on your ass, squeezing it. The kiss continues, growing deeper, hungrier, breaking briefly so you can pull off his tank top.
You are pressing your hands against his hard stomach, running up along his chest until curling them around his shoulders, breathless at the sight of him. His skin is warm, inviting, and the sight of him in just his jeans is incredibly sexy.
Seonghwa brings his face to your neck, kissing along there while his grip on your ass tightens. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. The barriers of your clothing are becoming an annoyance now. You want more of him, you want all of him.
When you open your eyes, they land on the camera. A silent observer, missing nothing, no judgement to be found.
“Seonghwa,” You whisper and he stops, pulling away just enough to look at you. His eyes are hazy with lust, lips parted prettily. “Come with me to my room,” You pause for a second before adding, “And bring the camera.”
*
In your room, the camera is once again propped onto the top of the TV which gives it the perfect angle of the bed. When originally purchasing the second TV at a yard sale, a friend had questioned needing another one. Now, you’re grateful for it – where else would the camera filming the two of you go?
You are still fully dressed, something Seonghwa looks to rectify from the way he gently nudges you into view of the camera while he stands behind you.
His hands are on your waist, skittering upwards until your shirt is pulled off, tossed onto the nearby dresser. In just your bra and sweatpants now, acutely aware of the camera, your breathing grows uneven. Seonghwa’s hands continue to travel, now onto your bra, squeezing your breasts together. He is kissing along your neck once again, his lips a soft whisper along your skin.
He tugs down on the bra, exposing your tits not only to his hands but to the camera as well. The entire thing feels more intimate than any other sexual encounter you’ve had before; the camera adds to the feeling as strange as it sounds in your head.
Seonghwa’s hands are warm. He cups your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples. You’re soaking wet, overwhelmed by the desire you’re experiencing for him. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching them a little, allowing the camera to take in the sight of him groping you like this.
You tilt your face in his direction and his lips find yours once again. You like how Seonghwa tastes in your mouth – it is familiar, almost as if you’ve kissed him before, kissed him a thousand times. When he pulls away, the look in his eyes is heavy, laced with lust and stripped away from any pretenses he usually carried so close to him.
You brush his hands away from your body, instead grabbing him by the waist band of his jeans, moving him closer to the camera on the top of the TV. Unbuttoning his jeans, you rub him through the denim, taking note of the way his breathing catches.
You lean towards the camera, moving it to the shelf underneath the TV, giving the lens a perfect view of you on your knees in front of Seonghwa. You look up at him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down until his boxers are exposed.
The camera can’t catch his facial expression but you can see it – the way he looks at you with his plump lips slightly parted, his eyes dancing across your hands down to your breasts. It isn’t just giving yourself over to him, it’s giving yourself over to the camera too.
Your hands rub against the bulge in his boxers, feeling the warmth through the fabric. Your hands dip into the band of his boxers, pulling it down until his cock springs free. Gently wrapping your hand around him, you bring your tongue across the head, sweeping across it once, twice, three times. Seonghwa exhales slowly while you begin to pump his cock, looking up at him. The camera’s gaze is steady on the two of you, the moment you take his length into your mouth captured on film.
Your tongue presses against the tip of his cock for a few seconds before taking more of him, filling your mouth with his length. Your other hand goes to his balls, fondling them while your tongue presses along the underside of his shaft.
Spurned on by the soft noises of pleasure that escape Seonghwa, you begin to bob on his cock. Sometimes, he pops out of your mouth, the tip of him a sticky sweet mess of your salvia and his precum. It glistens in the low lights before you take him once again, as much as you can. You enjoy the way he fills your mouth, stretches out your lips with his thickness.
Seonghwa’s eyes close, his head rolling back as a guttural groan topples from in between his pink lips before he curses sharply and pulls away. His cock slides out, precum smearing against your cheek.
With a small shake of his head, he goes, “I don’t wanna finish. I want to feel you wrapped around me.”
Seonghwa helps you up, scooping the camera off the shelf and back onto the top of the TV. This time he puts more care into the angle, asking you to sit on the bed while he looks through the viewfinder until he looks pleased with it.
“Look at you, big shot director,” You tease at one point.
He raises his eye from the viewfinder. “Hey, it’s your debut,” Seonghwa says gravely but the twinkle in his eyes makes it evident he’s joking. “Lay sideways on the bed for me, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You are still poking at him.
When he seems satisfied, Seonghwa circles back to the bed. He crawls up along your body, stopping to remove your sweatpants and underwear. You’re completely naked with him on camera now while his lips travel across your stomach, stopping at your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipples and he gently bites down on one, tugging on it with his teeth just to hear you gasp.
Seonghwa is skin to skin with you, not an inch in between your bodies as he finally kisses your lips. Your legs curl around his waist urgently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth until he groans in response.
It is simple to enter your pussy, having been wet for Seonghwa since he stepped foot inside your apartment. His length fills you swiftly until his hips touches yours. The next kiss is messy, a mixture of muffled moans and whimpers as Seonghwa goes still, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being filled with his cock.
His hands snake up along your arms, gently pinning your hands above your head, just at the edge of the mattress. Almost lazily, Seonghwa rocks his hips. The motion is small, just enough to send shocks of warmth and pleasure through your body. You groan out his name in a plea for him to move faster but he doesn’t obey.
“Sorry, my boo, but I’ve been thinking about this all week and I want to take my time,” Seonghwa declares, your hands entwined together, “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met, saw the disinterest flicker across your face when I drove you home the first time.” He moves his hips, pulling almost completely out of your hole. “And I went home that night and thought about inviting you over, teasing your body until you crumbled and begged for me.” He thrusts now, all the way back inside, until your hips meet once more and you gasp, your fingers curling around his for something to hold onto.
You can recall the memory, the way you mused that Seonghwa was too pleasant, too kind in that sort of neutral, placid way that meant even though he was beautiful, he faded to the background of your memory. But there is your side of things too…
“Your veneer isn’t perfect,” You counter with a small gasp when he rocks his hips again, “Maybe to others but not to me.”
“Is that right?” He growls.
Breathlessly, you explain, “I got the feeling multiple times you were holding back, hiding parts of yourself. You were so restrained all the time.” You remember the moment in the breakroom where he flattened his hand against his knee, wrangling himself under control. “But sometimes, I would see pieces. It made me want to crack those parts open, see you.”
Seonghwa is moving your legs now, sliding his arms under them so that they fold closer to your chest. He is still as near to you as he can get physically. But the angle change is intense and you grab the edge of the bed, gasping as he begins to pump his cock deeper into your cunt.
“And now?” He prompts but you can’t focus on the conversation anymore, not when his cock feels this good and he’s finally fucking you at a pace that only heightens the desire and pleasure. After your garbled moan, Seonghwa goes, “I’ll take that as your answer.”
Your eyes flutter open, the red light from the camera like a spotlight. This moment - captured either forever or until Seonghwa and you were to break apart. Tiny parts of yourself, combined with Seonghwa, in this intimate moment for the camera lens.
Your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around Seonghwa’s cock as your orgasm approaches. He keeps up the steady pace, the bed shaking with every thrust, your legs bouncing with each jerk of his hips. Your knuckles are white from clutching the edge of the bed, your bedsheets tangled around your fingers as Seonghwa pistons his cock into your wet cunt.
And then your orgasm begins, Seonghwa’s name a shattered piece of glass on the tip of your tongue as your hips meet his. The pleasure blots out everything; it is so exquisite that you lose yourself entirely to him.
Seonghwa pulls out, allowing you to stretch out your legs. “I want to fuck you from behind,” He says, his hands on your thighs, “Will you let me?”
You know that means facing the camera, allowing it to capture every expression on your face. You nod and Seonghwa helps you get into position on all fours, your ass in the air and hands pressed against the bed. He runs his hands over your ass before tugging you down a little, towards his cock.
“Seonghwa,” You say, looking over your shoulder at him. His hair is messy, his breathing rough, but all his protections over his personality are gone. He looks sexy, inviting, warm, all yours. “I want you to finish in me.”
He stops for a moment, glancing up at you before nodding. You turn back to the camera while he enters you once again. You gasp loudly – he feels much different from this angle and your eyes almost roll back into your head from how amazing it is. Seonghwa doesn’t stop this time. He immediately begins to pump and you curse roughly as his hips smack against yours.
One hand reaches for your hair, pulling it on it in a sharp tug, keeping your head up so that the camera captures your ever changing facial expressions. You like that it’s being filmed, both you and Seonghwa’s faces being recorded as you chase the pleasure your bodies can give.
He grunts out your name as he fucks you, releasing his hold on your hair so that he can grip your waist. Your hands shake and you finally relent, lowering your front half onto the bed. This allows him to fuck your cunt even deeper. You’re cursing loudly, begging him to keep going because you’re going to cum again. He doesn’t stop and you’re sure that the camera is going to show a thin layer of sweat across his forehead from how quickly Seonghwa’s hips snap into yours, his balls smacking against your ass, your wet pussy taking him easily.
Your hands grip the bed sheets, face down in the bed now, trying to muffle how much noise you’re making because of the neighbors. Seonghwa is grunting, panting, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as his cock pounds into your sopping wet hole.
Your orgasm starts suddenly, without any warning, and your back arches. You bring your ass backwards, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. At the same time, Seonghwa groans out your name and it sounds like gravel against the bottom of a shoe. He begins to spill inside of your cunt. Together, you both cum, in full view of the camera. His warmth overflows and when he pulls out, you can feel him dripping out of your cunt.
Legs like jelly, you fall against the bed, completely exhausted. But Seonghwa slides off, reaching for the camera and bringing it onto the bed. He plops it briefly onto the sheets while his hands go to your hips, rolling you onto your back.
“What?” You mumble, slightly dazed.
“I want to see your cunt filled with my load,” He explains, bringing the camera close, peering through the viewfinder.
His other hand gently spreads your lips apart, showing his cum leaking out from in between your folds. It’s lurid, completely pornographic, and you find it thrilling.
“You’re a perv,” You tease him.
His finger dips into your cunt, scooping up some of his cum. His hand trails up along your body, along with the camera lens, and when his finger is against your lips, you open, sucking his cum clean off.
“And what are you then?” He says.
“Your new girlfriend,” You reply boldly.
Seonghwa pulls away from the viewfinder, his eyes meeting yours. In the now quiet room, the only noise is of his soft breathing mingling with yours. The past is wiped clean, replaced with the new tape, the collision of two people caught on camera, entwining together both physically and mentally.
“That sounds perfect to me,” is what he finally says and you can read in between the lines – you aren’t just privy to Seonghwa’s true self through a camera lens anymore. You get access to him all the time.
You smile up at him, fucked out completely and never been more content.
Seonghwa returns the look, his finger hovering over the button to stop recording.
“What do you want to do now?” He asks.
You think for a moment before going, “We should –”
And his finger presses the button, ending the tape.
the end.
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blacklist }} p.sh (m)
>>summary: you're usually a good girl. you stay out of trouble, do your own shit, and mind your own goddamn business. but when you're suddenly blacklisted by Park Seonghwa, all of that is quickly forgotten
>>pairing: park seonghwa x reader
>>genre: enemies2lovers hints idek. fluff kind of, badboy seonghwa, use of social media, etc
>>word count: 5.3k
>>warning: oc's potty mouth, lots of cursing, half of ateez are assholes, invasion of privacy, blackmailing but not really blackmailing, suggestive remarks, let me know if there's more. also not really smutty. just some mature topics. Y'all, I'm sorry for the scrolling!! accidentally removed the "keep reading" shit and didn't even realize it--whoops.
Park Seonghwa; he's nothing but some guy who happens to be blessed in the looks department, with an access to daddy's credit cards. Boooring. But everyone around here seems to listen to his words--his opinions, like it's the gospel.
For fucking why? You don't know, you're still trying to figure it out yourself, but believe it when you say it's ridiculous.
You've been staring at the computer screen for legit 20 minutes now, still unable to process everything--just as baffled as you were when you first opened up the page: Park Seonghwa's Blacklist. And there you are, your name sitting at the top in a fat, bold, and thick font as his most recent post. You can't believe it... you're officially blacklisted.
You'd be lying if you were to say you weren't warned. No, you just didn't think it'd actually happen--that he'd actually do it. Over something so petty, too!
It was maybe a little over a week ago, when you and your friend were lining up for the annual career fair. You know, an opportunity--a chance, to talk one-on-one with an actual representative from a company or any sort of working field so you can get somewhat of a jumpstart, just so you didn't feel like you're wasting your college experience away. Anyways! Everything was going good, until Seonghwa and his group of dipshits, you mean his friends, showed up and literally sucked the life out of everything and everyone there.
The line was so fucking long, you would've thought people were getting paid to be there, but no. Apparently, many other students felt the same exact way you did, and so the event ended up being a clusterfuck. You and Sumi stood in line for almost two hours already, so close to finally securing a booth, until Seonghwa and the shitheads suddenly cut in front of you guys.
Of course, had it been any other times, you would had let it slide. You're usually not one to pick a fight, and the last thing you want to do, is mess with Park Seonghwa: the campus's heartthrob and apparently everyone's favorite--a mystery that will go unsolved. But you had a long day. You just managed to cram two exams in one night, you were walking on an hour of sleep, and you just waited in line for what felt like years, and now daddy's boy over here thinks he could just waddle his way into the front of the line and you'd say nothing? No, fuck that.
You lightly tapped on his shoulder--he also happened to be the closest one to you. But he barely even swiped you a look. No... like literally. He checked behind for like a second and continued on the chatter with his boys like you're a fly; an inconvenience. You cleared your throat as he obviously did not get the message, but second time's a charm, right?
You repeated your previous action, but this time your tap holding more power, yet it didn't even faze him. Even worse, he didn't even deliver at least a glance. And just as you were about to lose your patience--as if you had any left, Sumi tugged at your arm and gave you that look. That look as in, "I know you're about to pop off, but please reconsider".
Like you said, you think you're a pretty good student and daughter overall. You try to stay out of trouble, you do shit as they're supposed to be done, and mind your own business for the most part. And frankly, you were not even looking for a fight. They cut in front of you and your friend disrespectfully, and you just wanted to tell them it's not okay. Sumi understood this, but she also knew that you can be overly self-righteous, morally determined, and always feeling like you have to do the right thing; save the day. And especially when someone pushes your buttons, all these sides of you starts coming out from hiding.
"Excuse me, but me and my friend were here first. We've been waiting for quite a while, so we'd appreciate it if you guys didn't--" You liked to act tough, but now that all four of the boys have officially turned their attention to you, it felt like you have been backed into a corner. Their stares lingering and piercing with animosity.
"Aww, Hwa... what should we do?" Wooyoung playfully nudged the older boy, delivering his remark with a tone that made you want to lounge forward and slap the smirk off his annoying face. Jung Wooyoung. The name anyone with a vagina on campus would probably know, because he is a walking red flag in itself. His dick has a need of its own that has to be fulfilled every couple hours. You're not sure how it hasn't fallen off by now, but you have better things to worry about than his limp sausage.
Wooyoung's comment caused an even bigger, punch-inducing grin plastered so clearly on Seonghwa's face. Like he's thinking: finally, some good shit.
"We got a tough one, ay?" He raised an eyebrow at you, quite literally trying to work up your nerves, and it's working. Better yet, it's multiplied when you see the same stupid grin on all the boys like it's contagious.
"I don't want to argue, I just don't think it's nice, cutting in front of all these people who have been here before you guys." The accent in your voice is genuine and innocent enough, yet the audacity you had to even cause such a scene in the first place, sparked a little interest in Park Seonghwa; the fascination to see how far he can really push your buttons.
Wooyoung was about to say something again like he always does, but is stopped in place when the older boy placed a hand in front of him, signaling him not to. "It's fine, Woo. We can go to the back of the line. Kitty and her friend here probably needs the experience more than we do."
His snide remark caused slight chuckles to erupt from the group of friends; two in the back: San and Jongho, high-fiving each other. These bitches have the mental capacities of a ten year old, TOPS!
You knew you should be offended at Seonghwa's allusion to you and Sumi being some kind of charity case, and you are! But the nickname in reference to you, is just as insulting. Kitty? That's jail! No, actually, you think it'd sound cute, if it was coming from anybody else but Seonghwa and his friends. Like if it came from Hongjoong, the really cute and nice guy who's in the same major as you. You guys would occasionally share greetings, and bid goodbyes like you won't see each other ever again, only to run into him in your 8 a.m. class the next day. But you and your crush on Kim Hongjoong, is another topic for another day.
Sumi was just cowering behind you the whole time, watching the shitshow unfold in front of her, yet too terrified to say anything to back her own best friend up. Not that you'd ever fault her, or be upset, because you understood your own friend's timid-ness. You found it endearing, and that's what you're here for; to coddle and protect her when she's too afraid to do it herself.
"Excuse me?" Was all you could get out. Because how in the fuck do you even reply to that.
Seonghwa scoffed, and his friends followed with more giggles. What is this? Middle school?
"Let me guess..." He suddenly took a step forward, trying to close the space between the both of you. Retreat, retreat! "Broke college student surviving on ramen each day with no luck in landing a job yet? That's why you're here? Hoping you'll catch the eye of some internships, or perhaps higher-ups who'll want to offer you a position? Hate to break it to you, Kitty, but life doesn't work like that."
As if he knows how life works! Because that's exactly how things usually play out at events like this. But then again, it's Park Seonghwa. He's probably never even been to a career fair before, let alone even heard of the word. Well... this is your first time too, but you sure as hell knew what the fuck it means at least. You're willing to bet he barely grasped the definition of the word as soon as he stepped foot into the area.
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. He's dumber than you thought, and your expectations were very low to begin with. "And why are you here?" You taunted, closing up whatever amount of space was still left. You saw the way Seonghwa cocked his head, gaze biting deep into your own, and anticipating whatever you were going to say next.
"Let me guess..." Your wordplay and delivery mirroring exactly the way his did before. "Daddy cancelled your credit cards and told you to get a real job? That's why you're here? Hoping you'll catch the eye of some internships, or perhaps higher-ups who'll want to offer you a position? Because your parents pulled the plug, and now poor little Seonghwa have to look after himself?"
An inaudible gasp escaped one of the boys' mouth. You didn't know who it belonged to, but you knew for sure it happened. Seonghwa's brows pinched in, his expression unreadable and you hated how it made you felt uneasy--even though you still said what you said. But the several increments of silence after your response is broken by the devil himself.
"Uhhh... interesting." That was the only thing he said, but you could've swore you saw a more menacing reaction like a smirk, maybe even a smile. The feeling in your stomach turning inside out, hard to not feel intimidated or regretful of your decisions--fearful of the consequences, as unapologetic as you were.
Seonghwa had never thought you'd have as much bites as you do. He's ran into you on campus a couple times--even shared some classes with you in the past, but you were always so quiet, always so reserved, always so boring. Didn't think you'd have a mouth like that. Could've fooled him. But now, he wants to know more about what other things your mouth could do. And he makes it his mission to find out.
He saw the potential in your eyes, the way you didn't even spare it a second thought getting all up in his face just to prove a point. It activated something in him, and his body acknowledged the attraction, the core of his manhood throbbing a little. There's many things--a lot actually, that gets Park Seonghwa harder than a piece of steel, but he never thought a girl with some edge spewing insults in his face, would give him the same amount of gratification. And he thought he just might have to dig a little deeper into this newfound interest.
"I smell?!" You yell out, talking to the thin air in your room that's starting to become heated, probably from how much red you're seeing right now as you're scrolling through Seonghwa's post.
He's so full of shit, you think to yourself.
All of these things he's outed about you are borderline ridiculous. Not to mention, very untrue! Like he pulled all these facts out his ass and ran with it. No, actually, you're pretty sure he sat there and made all these crap up in a span of a few minutes from how low effort everything is. From his attempts to slander you, to even the extra explanations at the bottom that just quotes in a tiny font: "She just looks like she smells."
If he's going to drag you, you at least want to see him try. Not blacklist you for reasons like how you look like you smell, or how you're probably the type to put the milk in before the cereal. What in the fuck? And even if it's true, whatever you do with your food is your own goddamn choice.
But in all seriousness, you know Seonghwa can say some heavy shit if he wants to. You've seen it first-hand, and you've seen it with others who ended up exactly where you are now. You can't even really be angry, you're more just... amazed at how dumb it is. How petty, actually.
Park Seonghwa's Blacklist. The name and title is ominous, because well, to be blacklisted is to be ostracized. But really, it's just a list of a bunch of people on campus he's had a less than pleasant experience with. The whole concept is just an excuse for him to talk mad shit about anyone who poses as a threat to his already bruised ego.
Sounds harmless enough, except, you know some people who listens and clutch onto this man's words like he's the head of a cult. You knew one girl from your Information Systems class last semester; Jin Jooyeon who accidentally spilled water on one of Seonghwa's minion, Jongho, and got blacklisted just for that. Gossips and news spread like wildfire and the girl left the classroom the next day in tears. You felt so bad, you almost went to the head of the University and filed a freaking complaint. But that was until Sumi enlightened you that it wasn't going to do shit.
Seonghwa's dad is the chief executive and would probably do anything to cover his ass, so your letter in caps and a big red font will just end up being another email directed to the spam folder.
You're not much of an expert about what even goes around campus. You'd much rather spare your energy for what happens outside school hours. Like what game should you play this weekend, what TV show is on your next to-binge list after you're finished with assignments, or what should your latest blog post be about. So your knowledge of such thing is very much only a couple months old. But ever since, it's like you've stepped into a pattern of bad omens. It's absolutely unreal just how much you know about Seonghwa and his side characters now.
The next few minutes is spent browsing the remaining of his post, rolling your eyes every couple words here and there because you can't believe some people really eat this shit up. Nothing even remotely worthy of your time; most of it sounding like some middle schooler in their rebellious phase could've wrote this. Until you get to the last bullet point that really takes everything in your body and will to not get up from your chair and march all the way to your University's office just to ask for Seonghwa's address so you can go find him and shove a ten foot pole down his throat.
It's a bunch of pictures of you completely off guard and completely unsuspecting, just going on about your day. You know Seonghwa plays dirty, but you didn't think he'd play this low. He never took shots of any other students before. Did he fucking sent people to follow you around? Shit, someone could probably even be lurking inside your room right now. It makes you feel uneasy, your head twitching and turning, scanning the room as if somebody in disguise would finally magically reveal itself after you catching sight of nothing or no one--in your one room open space dorm; bed, kitchen and everything in the same area.
Okay, he's fucking with you at this point. But you're pretty sure taking pictures of somebody unauthorized is invasion of privacy. Is it illegal? That's debatable. But it definitely should be, as evidenced by how the patience you've been trying to hold in, is starting to break down and you're about to go into batshit mode. So you scroll back to the top of the post, not even bothering to read the comments (you don't need any further reasons to justify homicide) and hovering over the menus displayed; Home, Photos, About Me--ahhhh, there it is: Contact Me.
You've never clicked on anything so fast, nor have you ever read over a paragraph at the speed that you did, but the next thing you know, you're clicking on the "Chat with Me" button like you're going to win a prize for it. Something about a text along the line of "Chances are, I'm probably not going to reply but you can still try your luck ;)" flashed before your eyes, but not like you give a fuck. He's going to reply whether he wants to, or not.
y/n0898: hey daddy's boy, you there?
You wait in silence for about 20 seconds before a notification on the bottom of the screen pops up.
park_seonghwa: you called? y/n0898: that's an awfully fast response park_seonghwa: I was expecting a certain visitor y/n0898: don't flatter yourself park_seonghwa: I'm not. I just knew a certain kitty around here has claws y/n0898: don't call me that >.< park_seonghwa: you don't like it? I think it's cute y/n0898: it is. just not when you say it park_seonghwa: ouch... okay
He's throwing you off. You came here for one thing, not to have a conversation with Park Seonghwa.
y/n0898: why'd you made that post about me? And why would you send someone to stalk me and take those pictures? I demand it to be taken down park_seonghwa: you reap what you sow y/n0898: ??? okay?? that doesn't mean you go take pictures of someone unaware and post it on the internet, tf??! park_seonghwa: tell you what. I'll take the pictures down y/n0898: fucking please park_seonghwa: if y/n0898: if? park_seonghwa: you meet me tomorrow, inside the business building 7:30am y/n0898: that's it? park_seonghwa: that's it
That wasn't it, and you hate how you would even let yourself believe his words in the first place. Because before you could even process anything, he's already hauling you all the way to some dark janitor closet. His movements so smooth; like he knows exactly where to go and all the right things to do, almost like it's second nature to him--leading you to believe you're probably not the first girl he's dragged up in here, and probably won't be the last.
Taking the situation into account, as well as Seonghwa's reputation, you blurt out the first thing to pop in your head as soon as he's finished locking the door.
"I'm not going to suck your dick, Park."
Your comment catches him off guard, and he couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle. "That wasn't my intention, but you know unless you--"
"--my god, shut up. Shut up. Just tell me what you want and let's get it over with," You state, not wanting anything more but to get the fuck out of this small, dusty closet that's caving in on you, and sending all sorts of uneasy signals throughout your whole body. Probably because you think Seonghwa railed someone right in this very spot you're standing on, but you don't allow yourself to think about it.
It makes you feel dirty that you're even in here right now, alone with him. What would your best friend think when you were just talking mad shit about the man who's now only a few inches away from you, not too long ago.
Seonghwa begins making steps toward you, not that he has to make much efforts, considering how tiny the room already is. If he takes any more, your face would fall right onto his chest. You don't say anything, but he can sense how nervous you are; you swallowing down the pit in your stomach every now and then.
"Geez, Kitty. I haven't even done anything yet and you already look like you're going to cry." He smirks, just seeing how vulnerable your state is right now. Nothing alike to the smart-mouthed and spiky persona he encountered a week ago.
You don't know what provoked you; that stupid nickname that you wish came out of anyone but him, or the even stupider comment.
"Probably because some fucked out daddy's boy dragged me into a janitor's closet against my will after blackmailing me," You retort, your tone and language now much more closer to the girl that got herself into this mess in the first place.
And Seonghwa doesn't know either. If it's the way that even when it looks and feels as if he's finally gotten you under his hold, you never seem to crack. Or if it's that triggering nickname that has escaped your mouth one too many time past appropriate to not get his blood boiling.
You see the shift in his demeanor, a look in his eyes similar to the tales those close to you would always warn you about; menacing, cold, and serious--a lump in your throat comes into manifestation upon the realization that you should probably tone down the snarky remarks, knowing he has the advantage as of right now.
"And what's wrong with being a daddy's boy?" One of his eyebrows arches to tease, and you can sense the lump growing more aggressive.
"I-It's--" You're trying not to break in front of him, but your performance goes disrupted when there's a sudden buzz in the back of your pocket; your phone.
Seonghwa notices it too, and the tension lingering grows thick. He watches as you try to straighten yourself, detaching from his gaze and attention onto the source of the noise. But not before he beats you to it, reaching his arm around your figure and snatching your device in an animalistic way.
"Hey!" All potential anxiety that was once present within you, now all gone due to another invasion of privacy from the boy standing before you.
You lift your feet off the ground for a few seconds, even jumping slightly in an attempt to retrieve back what's rightfully yours, but the efforts goes unrewarded because Seonghwa is much, both stronger and taller than you.
You can only watch in defeat as he squints his eyes, trying to decipher whatever prompted that buzzing sound of notification.
"Your boyfriend?" He says casually, holding the screen up in front of you as you try to make out the message displayed on the lock screen.
It was a text, from Hongjoong. The name itself already sets off an awful shade of pink that manages to sneak upon the softness of your cheeks, and Seonghwa too, notices the chain reaction. He doesn't know whoever the hell this person is, but judging by how tomato red you are right now, this person must mean something at least.
Kim Hongjoong: Hey Y/n, you okay?
"None of your business." You take the opportunity to overpower him, hand quicker than you can even remember controlling, before your phone's already back in the palm of your hold.
Ignoring the fact that Seonghwa's still ogling with a watchful gaze, you go on to reply as if a certain evil and wicked presence isn't here right in the very same room. He can't really see what you're typing from where he's standing, but he sure can spot the little curve that seems to tug at the corner of your lips while you're talking to this Hongjoong guy. He doesn't even know why it's pissing him off. He barely even knows you, and you're both merely acquaintances--strangers even. But just seeing how you've been nothing but resentful to him, like as if you've written down every possible comebacks to counter anything he will say, but now so soft and merry for someone else, it kicks something in that male-driven ego of his. His words eventually slipping before he can really assess it. But then, when has he ever really cared about what leaves his mouth.
"Does your boyfriend know you're alone with someone else in the confinement of a janitor's closet? Doesn't sound like the best thing to fess up to at the moment," He throws, stuffing his hands into the warmth of his pockets. Something about the way he conveyed it, tells you he gets off of it. His tone is suggestive, as well as the annoying smirk that you hate to say, you're becoming more familiar with because he does it ever so often.
It causes you roll your eyes, sighing and shoving your phone back to the comfort of your back pockets. "He doesn't need to know. Not like we're doing anything wrong. Besides, you asked for me to come, and I did. Not sure for what fucking reasons, but can we get this over with? I have class soon, and better shit to do." You're not denying nor confirming what Hongjoong is to you, but also because Seonghwa doesn't deserve to know the current status of your guys pending relationship.
"What kind of shit?" He asks, and a scoff of disbelief departs from your mouth. You really said all of that, but it's like Seonghwa only chooses to listen to what he wants, blocking everything else out that isn't worth an acknowledgement.
"Shit's that better than being in a foul smelling closet with a boy that's even worse than the stench."
Seonghwa laughs, embracing the fact that although you do something that grates his nerves, he's more amused at the sheer audacity you have, to have said some of the most absurd shit he's ever heard come out from a goody-two-shoes. He still can't help but to wonder if that something has to do with this guy, Kim Hongjoong.
"Fine, you can go." He takes a step back, creating a large empty space between the both of you.
You raise an eyebrow at the sudden yielding. "I can?" Not going to lie, you were expecting for him to put up a much stronger fight.
He nods. "Or, unless you want to do something else--"
"--no please, god no. I'm getting the fuck out. But wait... you really asked to meet, for this...?" You call it "this" because you're not even sure what the correct matching term is.
"Just wanted to get to know you more, Kitty. That's it." He smiles, but you don't let it get to you, because for all you know, there's probably a sinister intention behind that stupid handsome smile.
"Okay, well... bye." You try to head out, only to be pulled into Seonghwa's embrace as you're faced against his chest.
"Wait." He signs, his index finger up in front of his mouth, telling you to hush, before peaking his head out the small crack of the door to check if you guys are in the clear.
"Go first, I'll come out after." And before you can even agree, Seonghwa had already pushed you out into the empty and echoing hallway. You look back at the door just one more time out of curiosity, before shaking your head and trailing to the first class of the day.
Maybe it's because you're still thinking about what the hell just happened back there; how you were alone with Park Seonghwa in some tight space for a humble few minutes, or because you're also theorizing whether or not he'll actually take down the post and pictures, but either way, you're very much consumed by the stream of thoughts.
You haven't even fully taken in the surroundings, until you bump face first into another body; that sweet, but manly scent of vanilla traveling up the brink of your nose, your heart reacting to the familiar aroma by doing a flip. And when you look up, of course it's no other than--
"Hey Y/n!" The boy in his bright red hair and black glasses--that's more for cosmetic purpose than for the enhancement of his eyesight, greets.
"Hey Hongjoong!" You welcome back the excitement of his with your own, maybe even more.
"I was looking for you," He blurts out a little too loosely, not sure how it came out, or if it gave away too much.
"I-I mean, because you know, we share the same morning class, of course." He tries to salvage whatever he still can, but unsure if it made any difference.
"Yeah." You laugh because you think he's adorable. Your mind going back to the conversation with Sumi and how she thinks, knows, that Hongjoong totally has a crush on you as well.
"Sorry, I had to sort some things out this morning," You speak, not lying, but also not wanting to disclose to him about what exactly happened. He doesn't need to know that the campus fuckboy dragged you into a dirty janitor closet to have a conversation about fucking nothing. You remember his text and you did replied, but with only a short "I'm okay" because just being near Seonghwa drained all the flirtatious energy in you.
"No problem. I was just... kind of worried, because I saw the post. Did he... do anything to you?" His word choices are careful and so is his tone. You can tell he definitely is worried, but still trying to come off not too prying. That's what you've always liked about Hongjoong. So sweet, so kind, and so respectful. God definitely took his time with him.
You shake your head. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Someone like him, he's all talk and no bites." You giggle, and Hongjoong follows shortly after.
"If you say so. But you know, if you ever need help, or anyone by your side, I'm always here for you. I can always call up Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang for extra hands as well. I know assholes like him doesn't play clean," Hongjoong states. And you admit, you were taken aback a little. Not by the offer, but because you've never even heard Hongjoong talk ill of anyone before, and it's also the first you've seen him so serious.
You nod. "Thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it. But no more talk of him. I can feel the kimbap from earlier coming back up. We should head to class before we're late, again."
Hongjoong chuckles from the small snark you just threw, before agreeing.
But both of you unaware and unsuspecting the whole time, to a dark figure looming in the corner just behind the wall, who overheard everything just now.
On a peaceful studious night, after having finished all assignments due for the next two weeks, you find yourself creeping to Seonghwa's blog out of sheer concern just to see if he really followed through with what he said. Although to be honest, you weren't expecting much.
When you hover over to his Blacklist, only to find no more trace of you or any gut-wrenching accusations that's probably false, your chest drops in relief. Park Seonghwa actually doing what he promised he would? Well shit, guess even pigs can fly at this point.
You're just glad. Glad you'll be receiving no more death stares as you walk past the canteen just trying to feed your system like any normal person. Glad there won't be anymore whispers that aren't really whispers in the first place, because you can clearly hear them talking shit about if you really smell, or how you probably planned everything from the beginning just to catch Seonghwa's attention. Like, gross? You'll rather step on legos.
But more than anything; glad you won't have to deal with the stupid, tall, black hair, with a punch-inducing smirk, daddy's boy.
Just as you're about to exit out the tab, to do anything else but linger on Seonghwa's territory, you hear that awful, stomach churning sound go off.
Not the kind that comes from Hongjoong's texts where it brings butterflies and makes you want to jump up and down in all sorts of girlish ways. But one where you know you'll come to hate and loathe within the next couple of weeks, or even months.
Whenever Park Seonghwa says "That's it." you need to take that as a major warning to run and never look back, because that's never it.
At the bottom of your screen with a notification visible, is a message from Satan himself.
park_seonghwa: hey kitty, wyd ;)