Now even in the days of long past, Hoya had been brought up on the notion that ‘just because you may not find something exciting, it does not mean it is reflected in others’, mostly coming into play and subsequently to the forefront of his mind, when the loud mouthed and objective Captain would find himself wanting to demean others hobbies and actions.
Not one to disobey his mothers words entirely, Hoya often pushed his rash thoughts to linger elsewhere, however—that were unless the “other” in question, just happened to be the yin to his yang, the butter to his bread, the ice to his tea—fifth seat of the Ninth Division, Sejoon. Best friend was the exact term, but it wasn’t exactly an elegant enough term for the fifth seat, or so Hoya liked to gloat loudly; something to the effect of “Sejoon man, would you prefer it if we referred to one another as Shakespearean brethren in arms?”.
/or something as odd and scattered as that;
Sejoon and Hoya were about as far removed from one another, ranging in just about every aspect from personality to interests, quirks to mannerisms, as any pair of ‘chums’ could be. The fifth seat had a particularly keen activity which tested Hoya’s limitations on drawing the line—meditation…
Hoya found it absolutely ridiculous to meditate to such an extent that Sejoon did,
"You know… if the wind changes direction, your face will stay like that forever." Nudging the other male’s back, whilst an entertained and smug smirk crept onto his own lips, Hoya brought himself to crouch beside Sejoon, noting his closed and calm features. the Captain nudged him with a childish grunt of some kind (mostly sounding like a "nyeh nyeh, god).
"Come drinking with me, it’s an order… we can hit the streets in twenty three seconds and I’ll have a cold soju in front of you within another forty three seconds… come on! Don’t be an old man, I’m older than you are." Hooking his arms around Sejoon’s shoulders, Hoya burst into fits of laughter as he attempted to use his own weight to bring his friend down to the floor.
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