(no) Strings Attached

Soft Crash

"You've been killing yourself to be what they want, and I've watched it. Watched you disappear piece by piece like it's normal. And the worst part?"

His voice broke, eyes glossed with fury and something so much deeper.

"You think you're doing me a favor by cutting me off."

Silence. Breathe heavy between them.

Seonghwa's voice, when it finally came, was faint. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't. Not really." Hongjoong's tone dropped, raw. "But you did convince yourself you're some burden to me. That being near me is a stain on your perfection."

He took a slow, deliberate step forward.

"I'm not your mistake, Seonghwa."

The older's lips parted—but no words came out.

Hongjoong's voice, low now, bit hard. "What did they say to make you look at yourself like this again?"

Nothing. Another step. Closer.

"What did they say about me?" Still nothing.

So Hongjoong bent down slightly, locking eyes with him in full. "Tell me."

Seonghwa's lips trembled, and for the first time, the crack in him wasn't quiet.

"They... they said you were poison," he whispered. "That I was ruining the only future I had by staying close to you."

Silence.

"And maybe they're right," Seonghwa added, voice crumbling. "Because the more I try to be someone they want, the more I lose everyone else."

And there it was.

Hongjoong's face shattered—expression twisted with something between grief and rage. His hand moved—slow, careful—to Seonghwa's jaw, tilting it just enough to see the bruises clearer. The lip still split.

He ran his thumb carefully across the edge of the wound. "They don't deserve to love you. Not like this."

Seonghwa shook his head weakly. "It's not love. It's survival."

"And you think I'm what?" Hongjoong whispered. "A distraction?"

"I think..." Seonghwa paused. Breathed. "You're everything I was never supposed to want."

The silence that followed felt like a void. Hongjoong blinked. "What?"

Seonghwa still wasn't looking at him. He was staring past him—at the wall, the floor, something far away. Like he could disappear into it if he stayed still enough.

"You," Seonghwa finally said. "You're... not someone I'm supposed to like."

There was no drama in the way he said it. No confession. Just something broken. Detached. Like it was a fact he'd memorized so many times it no longer belonged to him.

Hongjoong stepped back. His stomach churned.

"I'm not—?"

"They noticed." Seonghwa's lips twitched into something bitter, almost a smile. "Back in high school. I thought I was being subtle. I never said anything. Never even admitted it to myself. But they noticed. And they made sure I stopped."

Hongjoong didn't move. He couldn't. The breath caught somewhere deep in his chest.

"Stopped?" he echoed.

"Cut ties. San too." His voice was flat. "They said I wasn't capable of keeping friendships if I let myself get distracted. That people like you weren't 'good' for me. That I should be grateful someone told me before I embarrassed myself."

His knuckles whitened where they gripped the edge of the desk.

"And when I hesitated, they threatened to withdraw me from school. Strip my funding. Said if I really wanted to waste my future for someone like you, then I didn't deserve the name I was born with."

"You didn't even do anything wrong," Seonghwa added, and his voice broke there—so small, it could've been missed.

But Hongjoong heard it. Felt it.

And he stumbled back a step. Nausea crawling up his spine. The months of coldness from Seonghwa. The fake smiles. The polite nods. The distance. Hongjoong had hated him for it. Called him pretentious. Fake. Plastic.
He thought Seonghwa had looked down on him.

But Seonghwa had been surviving.

All this time.

"God, I used to fucking hate you! How- how was I so blind?" Hongjoong's brows met in agony.

Seonghwa chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It's okay. I deserved it." He shrugged.

"Shut up!" Hongjoong shouted in his face. "You did everything but that!" He almost choked on thick emotions.

They stayed silent for a moment before Hongjoong leaned in. Didn't kiss him. Just pressed his forehead against Seonghwa's, exhaling like the fury might kill him if he didn't.

"You want out?" he whispered. "Fucking tell me. Right now. And I'll drag you out of this hell myself."

Seonghwa said nothing.

But he didn't move away either.

"I had no idea you were being broken behind every curtain."

Still, Seonghwa didn't meet his eyes. Not until Hongjoong lifted his chin slightly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he whispered.

Seonghwa looked at him then. And for a split second, something cracked.

"Because I'm not supposed to want anything for myself."

The words hung in the air. Exposed. Bare.
Hongjoong's breath stilled.

He wanted to scream. To punch walls. To burn down the house Seonghwa grew up in.

Instead, his hand lifted—tentative—and brushed against the bruised side of Seonghwa's face. Gentle. Reverent. Careful.

And this time, Seonghwa didn't flinch.

He just closed his eyes.

Hongjoong didn't say anything. Not right away.
His thumb hovered just shy of Seonghwa's jaw, eyes locked on the swollen cut marring the softness of his lower lip.

He hated it. Hated how wrong it looked on him. Hated that someone who claimed to love Seonghwa had put it there.

His chest ached.

Then, with a quiet inhale, Hongjoong leaned in.
Slow. Careful. Like the air between them was glass.

And when his lips brushed—just barely—against the wound, it wasn't a kiss of desire.

It was reverence.

It was apology.

It was everything he couldn't say and everything Seonghwa couldn't hear.

The world—chaotic, cruel, so damn loud—faded. Just for that moment.

Even Seonghwa's breath caught.

It was like his whole body forgot how to move, how to react. Like someone had pressed pause on everything painful and frozen it in place.

Hongjoong lingered just a second longer, pulling back only enough to look at him—truly look.

And when he spoke, it came out in a whisper, raw and certain.

"You deserve better than all of this."

And maybe Seonghwa didn't believe it yet.

But something about the way his fingers curled into the fabric of Hongjoong's sleeve said he wanted to. For once.

Even if it was just tonight.

A/N
I hate his parents so much. But yay, mask pushed aside for a second too long. 😭🩷