Work Text:
He still doesn’t know as to whether or not looking like the moon is a good thing. Deep down he supposes that it is, the moon is very pretty after all and it’s often the main source of most peoples night time comfort. Seonghwa is very good at comforting people, he always has been and he hopes that he always will be.
It’s been bothering him a lot, the comment Hongjoong had made towards him around six hours ago now. It probably shouldn’t be clouding his mind in the way that it is, but he cannot help but lose sleep over it. He thinks a lot, Seonghwa does, and for better or for worse, he’s always been rather good at doing that too.
A small sigh escapes the back of his throat, and he’s been staring at the ceiling of his bedroom for so long now that his eyes have well adjusted to the darkness. He can see the patterns on the ceiling, the white lines weaving in and out of each other in a way that’s almost hypnotising.
Seonghwa wonders what Hongjoong is doing now, and very quickly he settles upon the idea that he’s probably fast asleep by this point. He turns to lay on his left, and he reaches somewhat blindly for the phone on the nightstand.
He retrieves it, and is momentarily blinded by the bright light when he turns it on. Immediately, he heads into the device’s settings to turn the screen brightness down. Once it’s at a comfortable setting, and his eyes do not feel as if they are burning, he clicks onto the app that’ll allow him to search the web.
Against his better judgement, he searches for the general meaning of the compliment he had received earlier. ’You look like the moon meaning.’ He scrolls, and silently reads the information being given to him.
Google tells him that, "you look like the moon" can mean that someone thinks you are beautiful. A fairly harmless compliment, but a compliment that causes a faint line of blush to spread across the centre of his face all the same. It makes his heart do this odd sort of clench, and his stomach knots a little but not in a way that’s uncomfortable.
Seonghwa continues scrolling, and he clicks onto a dropdown box that gives him a more in depth idea of what the compliment could suggest. This box tells him rather nonchalantly that: if someone calls me or someone else their moon, it means that the person is much loved by someone who admires them too much as if they are yearning to go out on a date with them.
He blinks, and his breathing stutters a small bit. Well that’s certainly something. The smile that had been slowly appearing on his face disappears, and instead a light frown appears on his face. It feels like the Internet is playing a rather cruel joke on him, daring to suggest that Hongjoong could return his romantic feelings.
Seonghwa should probably turn his phone off, and he should probably close his eyes and go to bed. He doesn’t, though, he continues scrolling. He clicks onto another dropdown box, and regrets doing so almost immediately. Calling someone your ‘moon’ is a poetic expression of deep affection, often symbolising them as a source of light, guidance, and comfort in seemingly eternal darkness.
A wave of nausea washes over him. There’s one main problem here, and that problem is that technically Hongjoong hadn’t referred to him as his moon like these articles are suggesting, but rather simply as looking like the moon. Seonghwa turns his phone off, but his brain does not shut off at the same time like he’d silently hoped it would.
Instead the thoughts only seem to grow louder, and now there’s an unsettling weight sitting on his shoulders. Hongjoong doesn’t love him, if he loves him in any way it’s merely as a close friend and that’s it. There’s no possible way that he could feel the same romantic fondness as Seonghwa himself does… right?
Hongjoong has called him beautiful before, sure, but that was during a session of quiet comfort some time ago when Seonghwa truly believed he was anything but that.
In this case, he might not have even meant it in the ‘I think you’re beautiful’ way either. Maybe he just wanted to say something to add to the video and that’s the first thing that came to mind?
You look a bit like the moon.
You look beautiful.
He sits up, and grabs his phone once more, knocking the charger out of the device in the process. He flicks through more articles, and every single one hints at the idea of a secret romantic love, a light confession or a deep respect. He’s being mean to himself, doing this, but for some reason he cannot stop.
He cannot stop searching until a notification causes his phone to buzz, and a familiar name appears at the top of his screen. It’s there for seemingly years, but really it’s only seconds. Hongjoong is awake, Seonghwa knows that now.
Seonghwa exits Google and clicks onto the ‘messages’ app. He opens his previous chats with Hongjoong, and sees that the younger man has sent him a link to some sort of video. He clicks on it, taken immediately to his secret TikTok account, and he watches.
It’s a video about Lego, which ones are the best to buy from certain video games and movies. ‘Animal Crossing’ appears a few times. Hongjoong knows how much he loves that game. His heart swells, and for a moment he allows himself to consider that maybe, just maybe— no, no that could never happen. Hongjoong is his friend, his close friend and unfortunately that’s the way it has to remain.
Another text: i saw this whilst scrolling and thought of you :)
Seonghwa smiles softly, and clicks onto the notification to reply with a meaningful: thank you :)
Hongjoong starts typing almost immediately, the three dots trapped in a light grey bubble in the bottom left of the older’s phone telling him that. The younger man’s reply reads: you’re welcome
Seonghwa doesn’t know what to type back. This is seemingly the end of the conversation, right? There’s not much else more left to say. Hongjoong disagrees, it seems.
why are you still awake?
can’t sleep.
how come?
thinking too much. It’s not exactly the truth, but it’s also not technically a lie either.
ah, that sucks. do you want to talk about it?
not really, sorry. He most definitely does not want to talk about what he’s just spend the better half of the last twenty minutes frantically googling.
no worries. did you want to come over maybe? i was gonna watch a movie.
it’s like nearly one in the morning?
a short movie :)
Seonghwa chuckles softly, and he has no idea of just how nervous Hongjoong is behind the screen of his own phone in the house next door. Hongjoong cannot quite believe he’s doing this right now. Part of him wants to delete the messages and pretend it never happened. He doesn’t, though, because he finally feels as if he’s getting somewhere.
give me ten minutes?
will do! fancy a tea?
that would be great, thanks :)
perfect! see you soon!
see you soon x
The kiss he puts at the end of the message without even realising he’s done so before he hits ‘send’. He regrets it immediately, panic rising within his body and eyes growing slightly wide with it. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to question it, though. Instead he simply ‘loves’ the message and a series of grey hearts spread across the screen of Seonghwa’s phone.
Hongjoong is a blushing mess next door, getting up from his bed to start on the teas. He’s already got the movie loaded up. Seonghwa removes himself from his own bed, and he puts a hoodie on over his silky button-up pyjama top.
He slips on some socks, not bothering about shoes because he’s only going next door and there’s no chance of rainfall until later tomorrow, or technically today since it’s after midnight, until the later part of the afternoon. He leaves his bedroom behind, slipping his phone into the front pocket of his hoodie.
Seonghwa makes two pitstops on his way downstairs. He peeks into San’s room, and is happy to see that the younger man is fast asleep with Shiber in his arms. When he checks on Mingi, he actually goes into the room. The rapper is shivering in his sleep, a light frown on his face, and the duvet of the bed is nowhere to be seen.
The dim light from the hallway seeping into the room through the open door assists Seonghwa in retrieving the thick blanket. He brings it over Mingi’s body, tucking it tightly around him. Within seconds, Mingi’s face relaxes and his shivering stops. Mingi buries his face into his pillow, humming softly, and Seonghwa leaves him to it.
He goes downstairs and leaves through the front door, pulling it closed behind him with a soft ‘click’. He locks the door, and tucks the keys away protectively into his left hand.
His phone buzzes, and so he pulls it out. Hongjoong has messaged to say that the door is unlocked so he can just let himself in. It’s not the safest thing to do, but Seonghwa likes the message and then returns the device to his pocket anyway.
The door is in fact unlocked when he attempts to push it open. He lets himself into the house, and locks the door behind him. His own house keys he hangs up on the hooks in the entryway beside the keys he’s just locked this door with. He can hear shuffling coming from the kitchen, and so that’s where he goes immediately.
Hongjoong is facing away from him, stirring the tea’s in their cups. The steam leaves the liquid and disappears into the air. Seonghwa doesn’t know how to get his friend’s attention without accidentally startling him. Should he speak? Should he wait to be spotted? Should he just go back home and claim a sudden sickness?
He can’t do any of those, because Hongjoong begins speaking. “Hello.”
The older blinks, momentarily stunned. “Hi,” he then quickly asks, “how did you know I was—”
”You said to give you ten minutes,” Hongjoong states, smiling gently, gaze not leaving the teas, “you’re always on time for everything. It’s been ten minutes. Jongho and Wooyoung are still asleep. I figured it couldn’t be anyone else other than you.”
”What if it was someone else?”
”Then it would’ve been an intruder,” the tea bags go into the bin, “and I would’ve screamed and cried.”
The taller nods small, and Hongjoong disposes of the spoon into the sink before turning around with a cup in his hands. This cup has cartoon baby squirrels all over it, and it’s really very cute.
He holds it out to his friend, “for you.”
Seonghwa takes it, “thank you.”
Hongjoong smiles at him, and Seonghwa isn’t sure what to say so he just stays quiet. The tea cup is helping to warm both of his hands. Hongjoong fetches his own cup, turns the rooms light off, and then the two of them head upstairs. The movie night is in Hongjoong’s bedroom, apparently.
Seonghwa is okay with that. He thinks.
Hongjoong’s bedroom is decorated simply, and in the corner of it is a whole recording set up. It impresses Seonghwa every time he sees it, just how professional and busy it looks. There’s an open notebook on it, and a pencil that almost has no lead left in it. He isn’t sure if Hongjoong actually owns a pencil sharpener. Maybe he’ll get him one?
Seonghwa settles his tea cup onto the left nightstand, and Hongjoong does the same but on the right side. For some reason there’s an odd sort of energy over them. Seonghwa puts his phone beside the tea cup. Hongjoong sits down on his bed, and grabs the television controller.
”What do you want to watch?”
”There’s a film on there already,” Seonghwa gestures to the television, “I thought we were watching that one?”
”Well I thought so but,” Hongjoong begins, “you know, I want to make sure that the film is one we both like.”
”I don’t know if we have many films in common.”
”I think you’ll find that we do.”
”Do you like the LEGO movie?”
Hongjoong considers, and then shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever watched that one.”
”You haven’t?”
”It’s a kids film, is it not?”
”Well technically,” Seonghwa nods, “but I think that it can be for all ages. It’s good. The characters are cool. I think you’ll like it.”
”Seonghwa,” Hongjoong smiles fondly at him, a light amusement within his words, and Seonghwa refuses to acknowledge the fact that his neck is steadily heating up with blush, “do you want to watch the LEGO movie?”
He feels a little mortified for being so obvious, but he nods small. ”I think you already know the answer to that one.”
Hongjoong turns away from him and finds the LEGO movie on a random streaming service. Seonghwa sits down beside him, and it’s at this point they’d usually lie down and relax— but neither of them can really bring themselves to do so tonight.
Hongjoong plays the film, abandoning the controller to the bottom of the bed, and then he looks over at Seonghwa. “You can lay down, you know?”
”I know,” Seonghwa nods, and every part of his body feels as if it’s on fire, “I don’t want to, though, not yet.”
”Okay,” Hongjoong nods.
”You can lay down if you’d like?”
”I don’t want to either.”
Seonghwa hums, nodding, and he keeps his gaze painfully focused on the television screen. It’s a good job he’s seen this film so many times before, absolutely nothing that is happening is actually registering within his mind. He can feel Hongjoong’s gaze lingering on him, and it’s suffocating.
Oddly, he does miss it when Hongjoong finally does turn away from him to begin watching the movie. Hongjoong grabs his tea, takes a few sips, and then abandons it back down to the nightstand. This nightstand is the home of a lamp that is currently the rooms only source of light.
It takes Seonghwa around ten minutes to finally allow his body to relax, but he’s still not watching the film, not really. He’s staring at the characters, listening to the words being spoken, but still nothing is sticking in his mind. He stares blankly at the colours, and he doesn’t sing along to the songs in the quiet, slightly bashful, way he normally would.
Hongjoong is also only somewhat watching the film. He’s taking in the general plot, but the specifics he’s not bothered about in the slightest. All he’s thinking about is Seonghwa, and how close he is, and how beautiful he looks, and how much he just wants to hold him. He wants Seonghwa to lay down so that he can lay down beside him. But what if Seonghwa is waiting for him to do the same thing?
The shorter of the two bites the bullet and finally lays down after a few additional minutes of quiet consideration, resting on his right side and tilting his head downward so that he can still watch the film but face Seonghwa at the same time. Seonghwa watches him do so out of the corner of his eye.
It’s ironic, really, how the moon is sat so high in the sky at this very moment. If the curtains were open, the moon would be illuminating their very bodies. Seonghwa lays down, and he rests on his left side. He keeps his gaze on Hongjoong for a moment, before tilting his own head downward too. Their foreheads are almost touching at this point.
They watch the movie together, and another twenty minutes go by before an image of a pixilated moon greets them. Suddenly, the same thing is repeating over and over within Seonghwa’s mind.
You look a bit like the moon.
You look a bit like the moon.
You look a bit like the moon.
And his question is still unanswered, is that a good thing? He supposed, if he wants an answer from someone who is unlikely to tell him that it’s a subtle way of confessing a romantic love, he should ask the person who told him this in the first place. There’s no way Hongjoong could return his romantic feelings… right?
”Hongjoong,” he begins slowly before this sudden bout of confidence can float away from him, “what, um, what did you mean earlier when you said that I look like the moon?”
The younger visibly tenses, and Seonghwa can practically feel the tension radiating off the other’s body. Hongjoong has a long internal battle as to whether or not he should just tell him the truth. If he doesn’t do it now, he may never do it.
Surely it’s better to know whether Seonghwa feels the same way or not? Hongjoong would never forgive himself if he went his entire life not confessing to his feelings only to find out too late that Seonghwa did in fact feel the same way this entire time. His Mother always used to say that you never know unless you try. Maybe he should apply that to this moment too?
”The moon is pretty, isn’t it?”
Seonghwa blinks, and his stomach does his odd sort of backflip. He says before he can get his hopes up, “it is. But how does that—”
Hongjoong’s head moves upward, and Seonghwa finds his own one doing the exact same thing. They’re looking at each other now, movie completely forgotten about and shoved so far into the background that it might as well not even be playing at all.
”I think that you’re beautiful,” Hongjoong tells him, “just like the moon.”
Seonghwa blinks, breath momentarily stolen from him. “Oh.”
Hongjoong feels as if he’s been stabbed, his face falling slightly despite his best attempt to not let it do so. “Oh?”
”You think that I’m beautiful?”
”I do,” Hongjoong nods, “is that— does that make you uncomfortable?”
”No,” the reply is swift, “it’s, um, nice of you to think that way.”
Hongjoong has no idea what he’s doing, and neither does Seonghwa. He’s waited seven years to admit that he thinks Seonghwa is beautiful, he really should’ve perfected a love confession speech by this point.
Seonghwa adds after a moment of quiet, “I think you’re beautiful too.”
”You do?”
”Yes,” the taller smiles small, and Hongjoong finds himself easily returning the expression. Seonghwa goes to add, “I—”
But Hongjoong gets there first, “I’ve thought you were beautiful from the moment I first saw you.”
Another tight clench of his heart. The organ feels as if it’s about to burst out of his chest. A small, “Hongjoong—”
”It used to upset me, and it still does, when you’d say that you weren’t attractive. I’ve always thought you to be beautiful, both inside and out. I never once lied to you when comforting you. I did truly mean it. You’re perfect, Seonghwa, you’re beautiful, and I love y—”
He stops speaking, realising what he was about to say. Seonghwa’s eyes are widening, the realisation of the paused confession settling within his mind too. He thinks back to those articles, and back to one particular one that he had read during those silent minutes.
Google had told him that: the phrase "you look like the moon" is a poetic way of saying "I love you," originating from the Japanese expression "月が綺麗ですね" ("the moon is beautiful, isn't it?").
He finds himself wondering aloud, “you love me?”
Hongjoong seems to shrink in on himself, his head pulling back ever so slightly. He would have run out of here by now if this wasn’t his bedroom.
”In what way?”
”Seongh—”
”In what way do you love me?”
Hongjoong is quiet, and then he says, “I think you already know the answer to that question.”
”Maybe,” the taller agrees, “but I would like for you to tell me yourself. Just in case.”
A brief pause.
”I love you,” the younger confesses slowly, heart hammering inside of his chest and he cannot quite believe that he’s finally going to say this after so long of secretly wanting to, “in the same way that my Father loves my Mother. I’m in— I’m in love with you, Park Seonghwa, and I’m so sorry if this makes things weird between us but I— I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you.”
Seonghwa cannot believe this moment is real, and part of him wants to pinch himself so that he can ensure he isn’t dreaming right now. He’s hoped for this moment for so long, for the same amount of time Hongjoong has.
”You’re not lying to me?”
”No,” Hongjoong shakes his head, a little shocked at the assumption, “I would never lie to you, especially not about something like this.”
The older goes to speak, but no words come out and so he closes his mouth again.
”Please say something,” Hongjoong requests, growing more and more nervous as the seconds tick by like hours, “just— something, please.”
There’s only one thing he can think to say, one thing he can think to confess, “I love you too.”
A small gasp of relief, and maybe slight disbelief, the tension in his body disappearing at an instant. “Y-you do?”
”I do,” Seonghwa nods and Hongjoong could sob with happiness, “I love you the same way my— Hongjoong, I’m in love with you too, and I’ve loved you for the same amount of time you have loved me.”
”You have?”
”I have,” another nod, “I just didn’t think that you could ever feel the same w—”
Seonghwa stops, feeling a hand settle against the right side of his face. The action is tender, and careful, and the older relaxes immediately into it. Hongjoong is smiling at him, his eyes shining slightly and Seonghwa smiles back, falling in love all over again.
”Seonghwa,” Hongjoong begins, and the older hums to show that he’s listening, “can I kiss you now please?”
Despite all that they’ve just said to each other, the question still catches him off guard for a mere moment. Once he’s recovered, “yes.”
”Yeah?”
”Please,” Seonghwa nods, “I would like very much for you to kiss me. I’ve been waiting a very long time for this, you kn—”
A comment he’s not able to finish because Hongjoong has leant over and closed the gap between them. It’s a little odd, just how well and how easily their mouths slot together after their respective eyes have fallen closed. They’re like two connecting pieces of the same puzzle, or two sides of the same coin.
Seonghwa exhales contently into the kiss, the kiss that’s slow and a little hesitant. It’s a careful exchange, an intimate moment they’ve both been waiting so long for and they both still cannot quite believe that it’s finally happening. They have loved each other for long, and now they can finally tell each other that as many times a day as they wish to.
Hongjoong props himself up onto his right elbow, subtly encouraging Seonghwa backward in the process and the older moves until his back is against the mattress and his head is resting upon the pillows. Their kiss continues, and Seonghwa practically melts when Hongjoong uses the thumb of his left hand to gently caress up and down against his cheekbone. Hongjoong carefully guides Seonghwa’s head back a little further towards the older man’s left for easier access to his lips.
Their lips part, but Hongjoong doesn’t pull back very far. He looks down at Seonghwa, and Seonghwa looks up at him through half-lidded eyes. Hongjoong smiles gently, and he places their foreheads together. Seonghwa takes the opportunity to place another careful kiss to the slightly younger man’s lips.
There’s a conversation that needs to be had between them, but Seonghwa is too frightened to break this content moment, this moment so tender that he forgets about every single problem he has ever had. Under Hongjoong’s gaze, he really does feel incredibly beautiful.
”We can talk in the morning,” the older says as if having read his mind, “I’ve waited seven years, I can wait a few hours more. That’s if— that’s if you can too?”
”I can,” Seonghwa tells him, “but no later than one in the afternoon or I might go insane.”
Hongjoong chuckles softly, and the sound is like music to Seonghwa’s ears. “No later than one in the afternoon it is.”
”Good,” Seonghwa smiles, and Hongjoong knows without a doubt that Seonghwa’s smile is one of his most favourite sights in the world.
Hongjoong lightly bumps the tips of their noses together, and Seonghwa blushes. “I love you,” he tells him through an honest whisper, and he cannot wait to keep telling Seonghwa this whenever the opportunity arises for him to do so.
He hopes that he can tell him this for the rest of their lives, however long it is that they’ve both got left.
”I love you too,” Seonghwa tells him, and he hopes for the same exact thing. Having Hongjoong by his side forever would be simply, simply lovely.
Hongjoong hums quietly, happy, and then leans down to connect their lips once more. Seonghwa melts into the exchange quickly, returning it instantly, and the LEGO movie plays on in the background, completely and truly forgotten about.