comments are really appreciated
* * *
« it's your eyes
can't seem to breathe
when they're staring right at me »
"You still don't believe me," is what Kim Hongjoong states, alerting Wooyoung's attention. Their gazes meet.
"No," Wooyoung pauses, swallows. "I'm just a little bit...overwhelmed?"
He's sure he doesn't make much sense because his words are just mumbles, no match for Hongjoong's which are clear and straight-to-the-point. Wooyoung wants to blame the alcohol he's consumed, but he can't blame something he willingly decided to partake in. He can't blame something he'll most likely use again.
Hongjoong's eyes crinkle as a result of his smile. They remind Wooyoung of dark lakes reflecting off the moon at midnight. "It's fine. I can kind of understand why."
In the next second, he's opening his side of the car and stepping out, a cool gush of air seeping in as soon as he does. Goosebumps form on Wooyoung's skin, and it's then he remembers he doesn't like the cold all that much.
"What're you still doing inside there?" Hongjoong asks, but it's not in a patronising way. "Come on out. Leave your bag in the car; it's safe."
Wooyoung obeys, fumbling with the door handle before exiting with far less poise and grace than Hongjoong. But the man doesn't mind, nor has he noticed, apparently, because he's already strolling towards those skyscrapers, car keys twirling about in his small, lean fingers.
Hongjoong turns to watch him, hair as blue as the night sky. Wooyoung jogs up to him, unable to meet his eyes.
It's a thing he's never been able to do; maintain eye contact, that is. Just looking into someone's eyes felt like an invasion of privacy, as if forcefully trying to unravel their deepest secrets. It fills Wooyoung with so much unease whenever he catches himself holding prolonged gazes with someone else.
"Tired already?" Kim Hongjoong questions. A man steps out of the sliding doors of Choi's Highlight and casts him a friendly greeting, which Hongjoong cheerfully returns. A part of Wooyoung wonders how greeting people can come so naturally for everyone but himself.
"No," Wooyoung says once the other man disappears. "No. Let's...go in, I guess."
Hongjoong chuckles a bit at his word choice, and then their stepping into the ground floor of the company.
Wooyoung doesn't have any expectations, yet he's still blown away by the sight that greets him. The area they're in is massive, stretching far and wide with people -- customers, workers alike -- walking, talking, shopping. Everywhere glows, shiny and spotless like gemstones, corners filled to the brim with designer clothes, shoes, accessories that all seem to dazzle as well.
Wooyoung remembers stepping into a mall for the first time as a kid, and how awestruck he felt back then. He feels like that again, only now he's older and knows he can't afford any of this.
He watches his surroundings all detached like he's an outsider -- which he is. Suddenly he feels out of place.
Hongjoong's feet are quick, brisk, passing by the exquisite displays with not so much of a glance as Wooyoung struggles to pick up behind him. Wooyoung sees the large fir trees entwined by beaming fairy lights and ornaments in a few places, and wonders why they're already there when it's only the middle of November.
He shakes the thought off. It doesn't matter.
Men and women Wooyoung's never seen before greet Hongjoong every once in a while, most of them virtually ignoring Wooyoung's presence, which he convinces himself he doesn't mind much anyway.
"Where are we going?" Wooyoung asks when they arrive on the second floor, hating how insecure his tone sounds.
"To my office," Hongjoong answers. Before he can add anything else though, a new person shows up, a bundle of fabric in his arms. He's tall, with neatly combed chestnut brown hair and round, thin-framed glasses perched on his lifted cheeks.
"Hongjooong," the guy hollers the blue haired man's name, bouncing up to them like an overexcited puppy. "You're still here? I thought you'd already left."
He tries to hug Hongjoong but fails due to the fabric he's holding, which Wooyoung would've found some humour in if he wasn't so uncomfortable right now.
"The flight's tomorrow night, Yunho. I'm sure I still have a bit of time left before then," Hongjoong replies, his laugh heartfelt.
'Yunho' then looks at Wooyoung, eyes large and sparkling. They remind Wooyoung of Yeosang, but he erases the thought almost instantly.
"Who is this?" Yunho whispers, but it's so loud Wooyoung can hear it.
"This is Wooyoung," Hongjoong introduces.
"Wooyoung..." Yunho looks expectant as if he's expecting something else, something else that justifies why he's here with someone like Hongjoong. And to be honest, Wooyoung doesn't know why he is either.
"I have something to discuss with him here," Hongjoong continues, pointedly meeting Yunho's gaze. It takes a second for realization to flicker in his brown eyes.
"Ah," Yunho nods. Then, as if a switch's been flipped, he juts his free palm out at Wooyoung, smiling broadly. "I'm Jeong Yunho. Sourcing Manager."
Wooyoung feels self-conscious in his basic red hoodie and jeans under Yunho's welcoming gaze, but shakes his hand nonetheless. He's sure his confusion is apparent even with this, because he soon hears Hongjoong's laughter.
"He's Fabric Guy," Hongjoong teases, while Yunho pouts at the overly simplistic name. Wooyoung nods, finally understanding.
"Fabric Guy," Wooyoung repeats. "Got it."
Yunho isn't pouting anymore. He looks amused now. He exchanges stares with Hongjoong and chuckles. "I think I know what you mean now."
Wooyoung blinks. "What?"
"Nothing," both men exclaim, at the exact same time. Nothing suspicious about that.
"I gotta go now," Yunho says, tone faintly apologetic. "You know they just delivered new samples and I am stocked for tonight."
"Remember to take a break!" Hongjoong yells when Yunho runs off, the taller giving him a hurried thumbs up in response. "Now, where we we? Oh yes! My office."
Hongjoong crosses over to the first elevator he sees, and Wooyoung dutifully follows. He presses ten, then shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers and waits.
Wooyoung keeps silent, that is until a thought enters his head. "Hey, uh -- "
Hongjoong looks his way, but he averts his eyes before they can meet.
Wooyoung internally curses. The man isn't mean, and he's not harmful either, so he should just suck it up and stop being a wuss. "What's your job? I mean -- what do you do here?"
"I'm the Creative Director, but I'm sorta...running this company right now, for lack of a better word."
"Oh. What about the CEO?" Wooyoung isn't too well versed in business, and especially not in the fashion industry, but isn't the CEO supposed to be running the company?
"He's kind of MIA right now," Hongjoong mutters a bit distractedly. The elevator opens and the topic is dropped, and then they enter another elevator.
"So, you know how I want you to babysit, right?" Hongjoong starts after a few minutes.
"Do you have a child?" Wooyoung asks. Hongjoong doesn't look that old, maybe only a couple years older than him, but he won't be surprised if the man did.
"Oh my god, no," Hongjoong laughs, eyes a tad bit offended. "Kids aren't on my to-do list, and probably never will be. I just need your help, because like you've heard earlier, I'll be catching a flight to Amsterdam tomorrow night, so I'm really glad I met you today."
"Wow," Wooyoung mumbles under his breath, because not only is this on short notice, but Kim Hongjoong had been planning to leave the country and only met him tonight.
"I know right?" Hongjoong chuckles, stepping out of the elevator once its doors slide open. "But I'm kinda desperate. I'm meeting old guys for a bunch of business deals and I don't know how long that's gonna take me, so," he clasps his hands, a big smile on his face. "Are you in? Yes, or no?"
Wooyoung surveys the hall they're now on. It's considerably darker than the ground floor, that's for sure, with a few people bustling here and there, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Seoul's superb skyline. He feels like an intruder.
"I mean...do I have a choice?"
"...Not really?" Hongjoong cackles, and then he's taking out a card to press against a closed door. It blinks green, unlocking instantly. The man opens it, letting them in.
The room they step into gleams a warm amber, complete with elegant, earth-toned furniture and iridescent city lights swimming outside the expansive windows.
Hongjoong runs across the polished marble floors like an eager kid and stops next to a large desk, before staring right at Wooyoung. "What? I'm only twenty seven. I'm not that old."
"I wasn't -- " Wooyoung rushes to apologize, but Hongjoong's already in his chair, swivelling around.
He ushers the younger man over with a pen. "Take a seat, and look through the papers in front of you."
"Papers?" Wooyoung shifts past the first page, TERMS AND CONDITIONS glaring at him in bold font. "What..."
"No need to look so intimidated. I just like to keep things classy," Hongjoong twirls the pen around. "And, you followed me all the way here, didn't you? I'm pretty sure you want this."
Wooyoung does. Not to babysit to be exact, but he wants another job that doesn't involve his lousy manager and customers who treat him like shit. He wants something different, something new. "I... Yes. Yes I do."
"How old are you?"
"I'm turning twenty two."
"You're kind of young." The skin between Hongjoong's plucked brows knead, but it quickly loosens. "But that doesn't matter, now does it? I'm guessing you're in university?"
"Yeah," Wooyoung clears his throat. Here is Kim Hongjoong, 27 years old with a commendable career while Wooyoung is barely scraping by to make ends meet. He feels like an amateur.
"Well, it won't clash too much with what you're gonna be doing," Hongjoong states. "You're going to have to switch houses while you're on the job, and keep things in order. The details are in the agreement."
Wooyoung freezes just as he reads over what Hongjoong's talking about. "Switch houses?"
"Yeah. You're gonna babysit, remember?" Hongjoong smirks. "Might as well live with him. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen."
"I know. But..."
"But what?"
Truth is, Wooyoung has nothing to say. He reads nothing he specifically finds a problem with, and with the amount of wealth Hongjoong undoubtedly possesses, he figures he won't have to worry about money any time soon. It's relieving.
So, he just shrugs, which the older man smiles at.
"I'm guessing you're okay with it?"
Wooyoung takes the pen Hongjoong hands him. "...Yes."
* * *
The whole transaction takes place more smoothly than Wooyoung expects. That night is spent with both males knowing more about each other, exchanging tidbits that aren't too personal but serve their purpose. Even with this, though, Wooyoung has no idea who he's babysitting.
But it doesn't matter when he arrives at his battered one-bedroom apartment and knocks out on his bed just as he takes off his contact and yanks off his socks.
Wooyoung wakes up the next morning with a killer headache, bad breath and something heavy weighing on his chest. He ignores how cold and empty his room is and sits up, hating how gross he feels.
His stomach twists and turns and then he's rushing to the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. Fuck, he feels really gross.
He flushes it away, but the angonizingly heavy feeling lingers, caging him and squeezing his heart with its iron fist. He made a bad choice, but he doesn't care. Not when he'll probably do it again.
He washes his mouth and brushes his teeth at the bathroom sink, ignoring his different coloured eyes as much as he can.
When Wooyoung returns to his room, lightheaded and mind blank, his phone buzzes with a phone call where it'd been discarded on his pillow. He picks it up without looking at the caller ID, wondering who in the world would call him so early. It's not like he has anyone who misses him.
"Good morning Wooyoung-ssi." Shit. "You've already packed your things up, right?" Oh shit. "I'm already on my way." Shit, shit, shit.
Fuck. Wooyoung stands, legs all wobbly. He wants to bang his head against a wall, because how could he have forgotten?
"Wooyoung?"
"Yes! Yeah -- I have," Wooyoung scratches his head. "Uh, how far are off you?"
"Not too far. I'll arrive in about...forty minutes?"
I have forty minutes to get ready and get my shit together. Wooyoung tugs harshly at his dark hair, about to go crazy. "Oh, okay. And, good morning to you too."
He can hear Hongjoong's smile in his voice. "Thank you."
Wooyoung's hands clumsily pull off his clothes and then he grabs a spare towel, on the way to take the most anxious shower he's ever taken.
He refrains from overthinking as he snatches the small amount of clothes he has off the hangers, and everything else he can, because he knows thinking too much will prevent him from leaving this dump behind, as he's been so used to it for so long.
After all his things have been packed into two small luggages (because his belongings are that few), he stops in front of the bathroom mirror and finds himself observing the outfit he chose.
A lilac turtleneck hangs a little loosely on his frame, tucked into ripped, acid-washed skinny jeans. Wooyoung can't help but think back to his and Hongjoong's meeting last night, wondering what the man must've thought about his drab clothes. Probably nothing nice.
Wooyoung doesn't want to care what others think, but he's been conditioned into doing so since the beginning, and it's frustrating. He stares at himself again, a little braver as his left eye is brown now.
He thinks he looks okay.
His phone vibrates and a message bubble enters.
- kim hongjoong
i'm here 😊😊
He texts like a dad, but Wooyoung won't ever tell him that.
- wooyoung
okay!
Wooyoung drags the suitcases outside, immediately hit with the crisp winter wind and... cookies?
He looks ahead and there Hongjoong is by a navy blue BMW, donned in a snug long coat and a multicoloured turtleneck, munching on a cookie. He's smiling, conversing with...Yeosang.
"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong exclaims when he spots the younger. He flashes him an award-winning smile. "There you are. I was just talking to Yeosang over here. He makes really great cookies by the way. Have you tried them? I bet you have."
Wooyoung slightly bows his head, not really in the mood to talk anymore. "Morning, Yeosang."
"Good morning, Wooyoung." Yeosang's smile is soft, but his eyes are alert, intuitive as always. They take in his luggages. "Moving out?"
"Yeah."
Hongjoong helps Wooyoung put them in the vehicle, and then he's waving Yeosang goodbye, entering the BMW. Wooyoung follows quickly before his neighbour can say anything else to him.
Hongjoong doesn't say much at all for the entire ride, only mentions he's already paid off the landlady, which Wooyoung appreciates. The sky's a musky, dull peach, the houses on his lane looking something out of an apocalypse.
Hongjoong keeps driving, even as he passes the richer suburbs only the well-off citizens have. Wooyoung admires their size, fancy decors and trimmed lawns, before realizing he sees less and less houses.
"Don't worry," Hongjoong assures, seeing the baffled look on Wooyoung's face. "We're almost there."
'There' is a house that doesn't even look like an house, considering how enormous it is. A mansion greets them as the car rolls past an open gate manned by two guys, slipping into a clean driveway paralleled by bonsai trees and a mesh of vibrant, healthy flowers.
Hongjoong parks, and heads out of the BMW which Wooyoung doesn't notice until the older man chides him out.
"This is where you'll be staying from today," Hongjoong announces, gesturing at the mansion. "It's nice, isn't it?"
Nice is an understatement. Wooyoung isn't one to fawn over housing architecture, but his eyes never leave the building. It's a modern stylish mansion with over four storeys, its wide fiberglass doors decorated with beautifully carved designs that give it a homely feel.
Warm white light filters out the windows of the first floor, and Wooyoung gulps at the realization that the person in there's probably awake.
"I know you've already sighed the NDA, but you seriously can't say anything," Hongjoong gently commands, and it makes Wooyoung even more nervous.
Hongjoong doesn't hesitate to press the doorbell, and before Wooyoung can blink, the doors are pulled open, a pair of arms flinging around Hongjoong's body and dragging him in.
"Hongjoongie!"
Hongjoong laughs, the sound more tender than anything Wooyoung's ever heard from him. He strokes the person's hair, embracing him more tightly than Wooyoung is used to. "Hi, lovely. How was your night?"
"Uh...same as always. Minnie had to leave a little earlier last night."
"I'm sorry. You must've felt lonely, right?"
"Mhm!"
Hongjoong glances at Wooyoung, mouthing at him to enter. Once he does, he adds, "Hey, Sannie. I brought someone over. He's gonna keep you company while I'm gone."
That's when the person hugging Hongjoong finally looks up, allowing Wooyoung to see his face.
He doesn't look like a kid, but he's beautiful, with flawless bone structure, and shoulder-length black hair that has a silver stripe down in the middle.
He's also very, very familiar.
Wooyoung's breath hitches when it dawns on him. He's seen that face on countless billboards, seen it grace the covers of those fashion magazines he actively avoided.
The man in front of him dressed head to toe in fuzzy pjs is no child, but instead none other than Choi San, CEO of Choi's Highlight.
Wooyoung's sure his shock is evident guessing by the way Hongjoong grins and how Choi San's eyes darken.
"Why is he here?" Choi San asks, voice unexpectedly cold. "I don't like him, get him out of here."
Wooyoung averts his eyes, a lump stuck in his throat as a flurry of emotions swell up in his chest.
But Hongjoong hardly looks deterred. "I brought Wooyoung here because he's okay, Sannie. You'll like him."
"I don't."
A part of Wooyoung wants to turn around and leave, forget about this whole thing altogether, even when he knows it's stupid and he doesn't have a choice in it anymore. But that doesn't mean Choi San's behaviour towards him doesn't fuck with his feelings.
"He's gonna be living with you now, so don't be rude," Hongjoong continues, and then they're exchanging words Wooyoung can't hear and doesn't care to.
He wishes he'd just stayed home, even if disappearing off from the face of the Earth sounds like the better choice.
Choi San looks at him again, so Wooyoung does the respectful thing and dips his head slightly, loathing how the older's gaze alone affects him this much.
"He's nice and he's going to steer you off trouble, alright? Treat him well, and I'm sure you both are gonna get along just fine," Hongjoong tells San.
San huffs loudly and runs off in his pjs, something Wooyoung never imagined he'd see until today. In fact, witnessing a freaking CEO acting like a kid is something Wooyoung had never, ever anticipated.
Hongjoong reads the questions in his eyes, because he pats his back. "Don't mind him. He's just in a mood. He's usually such a nice Little."
Wooyoung's nose scrunches in confusion. "Little?"
"San acts younger whenever he's stressed out. It usually lasts a few hours, but he's been in that state of mind repeatedly for a month now." Hongjoong smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Only a few people know about this, and you're part of that few now. Your job is just to make sure he's okay, to take care of him. Nothing gets out, and you'll continue to get paid."
There's something else in Hongjoong's eyes, something else he's choosing to withhold from Wooyoung.
Wooyoung nods, busying himself with looking over the vast size of the sitting room alone, at its pleasing furniture and indoor plants. "Okay."
Hongjoong's smile widens, a lot more relaxed now. "Thank you."
* * *
a/n: thoughts?