(Author's note: This ended nicely however I could be tempted to write additons to it. I initially wanted this to be a sweethearts-to-enemies story but I like how it feels at this point. Also, this is my debut project to get back into writing lol. Please, don't kill me for making a whole new one-shot, but I wanted to grease my wheels again.)
In this story, Hoseok and YN are minors so there's no sexual content at all(!!) but they do have a lil chaste kissy kiss. Maybe I could do a time-skip for when they're in college or whatever, but that's only if ya'll want it lol!
Summer, 2004
“Hey, you know you aren’t supposed to do it that way, right?”
Hoseok glances up, eyes naturally squinting as the sun shines in his eyes. He puts up his hands, sticky with ice-cream from his snack, to shield his eyes. In front of him stands an equally-sticky girl. Her cheeks are covered in green ice-cream and her t-shirt has some melted chocolate all over the front. She’s missing a front tooth, clear from where she’s smiling brightly at him, and she seems a little sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead in some places. Hoseok understands - it’s July, dead in the middle of summer time in Gwangju. It might as well be hell on Earth.
Hoseok tilts his head to the side and his expression must show confusion as the girl scoffs. “That!”
She gestures to the sandcastle he was making in the sandbox.
“It’s a castle.” He murmurs.
She nods. “I know, I’m not a dummy.”
“So, what?”
She sighs and crouches down. “The poles aren’t high enough and the moat shouldn’t be this way.”
“But it’s my castle,” he says, pouting. “I want it to look like this.”
He’s lying, of course. He isn’t good with his hands but the girl teasing about his castle is making his upset. Who does she think she is?
The girl takes a second to look at his expression before she smiles, and it doesn’t hold any malice in it - only amusement. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
His cheeks burn, and it has nothing to do with the sun this time.
“Whatever,” he grumbles, moving to stand. “Do what you want.”
He moves to leave, no longer wanting to be around this stranger. He scans the playground to look for his dad, but he can’t spot him. No matter, he thinks. I’ll just find my own way home, like usual.
A hand on his wrist stalls his movements. “Hey, don’t go.”
He looks back at the girl and she looks chastised. She continues, “Shall we do it together? Your style and my style mixed together?”
He thinks for a moment before he nods, tentatively. “Okay.”
And that was the beginning.
Sometimes Hoseok thinks back to that day, their first meeting, and wonders if it was serendipity or an omen. Either way, he wouldn’t have changed it for a thing.
—
8 years later
“YAH! Jung Hoseok!”
Hoseok jerks at the familiar shrill sound of his best friend’s voice. He glances to the left from where he’s laying on the roof, needing a brief moment of silence and peace before his Korean history class, to see you. In your left hand, an empty bread wrapper. In your right hand, his backpack.
Hoseok sits up. “Oh, you found it?”
You glower at him, darkly. “You mean the bread I had been saving since this morning to eat during my break time? Yes. I found it.”
He smiles, small but real, and moves to his feet, throwing his arm over your lithe shoulders. “It was delicious.”
You elbow him in his stomach, making him wince. “You owe me after school.”
He takes his backpack out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I mean it, Hobi,” you warn, trailing behind him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls you under his arm, leading you down the corridor to your shared class, listening to you scold him the entire time.
His heart clenches at the nickname. Only you call him that. And it makes him feel amazing every time. You made it in elementary school, randomly whispering it in his ear, and he’s still embarrassed to say he squealed in bed that night, thinking you had something special only for him.
Yes, yes. He has a crush on you. A huge one, actually. You are his first and only love. And, along with it, the literal bane of his existence. This is because you won’t leave him alone, no matter what he does.
He has always been an underachiever at school. You, on the other hand, are a shining star, academically. You always score first or second in your year group, you are the class president and you are a member of four different teams. That hadn’t always been true though.
In elementary school, you had gotten into your fair share of fights for him. Hoseok had been skinny and poor, and he looked pitiful most days. The other boys would exclude or tease him, for being so close to you - a girl. They would call him gay or say he had mental instability. Then, you would come out and curse and scold them until they cried. One time, you even kicked a boy so hard in his face, you had broken his front tooth. You both got into so much trouble that day, but it remains his favorite memory of his childhood. The two of you, sitting with your arms raised in the principal’s office, covered in cuts and bruises, messy hair and dirt rubbed all over your clothes from the ensuing fight. You had glanced over at him and given him a private smile that said ‘I don’t regret a thing’, and he returned it with his own. ‘I’d do anything for you.’ He hoped you understood it then, and remember it as fondly as he does now.
The only things Hoseok can do well are sports, and that’s because he has a hard-head. You come to all of his games, no matter where or when they are, even shirking your other responsibilities to support him. And, this just makes him love you that much more.
He feels like you value him. You support him. You show him so much love that it makes him squirm.
As someone who has been shown none of those things from his family, it was overwhelming at first. He tried to push his feelings away, smother them, kill them even, but it never worked. The feelings would build and build and build until he felt physically sick from the weight of them. At 13, he resigned himself to loving you for as long as he lived, but he knew nothing could come from it.
You were just too lovely for a loser like him.
So, he let himself be your best friend - the bestest best friend he could be. And, it has been a pleasant near-decade of friendship, for the most part.
Until now.
You seemed to have a crush yourself.
And, it was killing him inside.
He didn’t know who, but you had been acting weird these last few months. You did your makeup, changed your hair, stopped wearing glasses. All the cute things he thought were so perfect about you, you were steadily erasing and replacing with someone else. He still thought you were beautiful - actually, it’s been hard to even look you in your eyes - but knowing it was for some other idiot was driving him crazy.
He spends the class stealing glances at the side of your face, wondering how pretty you would be in a few years time. He wonders if he’ll be by your side to see what kind of butterfly you would turn into at that time, too. Or, maybe he will be replaced by someone else. Someone who could actually stand by your side with pride.
—
“Hobi,” you whisper into his ears. He woke up a while ago, but he keeps his eyes closed in order to feel you this close to him. His heart is racing in his chest and he feels queasy in the best way possible. “You shouldn’t sleep here.”
He grumbles a little and you move your hand to pat his chest comfortingly. “It’s cold, Hobi. Wake up and come inside.”
He had developed this habit of waiting outside of your apartment complex on one of the benches when he doesn’t want to go back home. Your parents are the kindest people on Earth, and they always let him in. They give him food, let his shower and even sleep on the couch a couple of times. He’s still a kid, so they probably think he’s pathetic but some days, he thinks he would do anything to stay out of his house.
It just so happens that he loves being at your house. It’s so warm - just like you.
He wishes he could stay in this bubble for longer, pretending to be asleep so you’ll touch him all tenderly as you are doing. But, it’s cold, and he doesn’t want you to get sick, so he holds all his yearning in his chest and blinks open an eye.
“There you are,” you croon, softly, and then there you go, moving your hand away. He can barely catch the disappointment from appearing on his face. “Let’s go inside, hm?”
And, he trails behind you, like he always does.
A happy, stupid fool.
—
The crush you had on whoever was getting worse, and it was getting harder for him to hold back his frustration each time you gazed longingly out of the window or twisted the necklace he gave you for your thirteenth birthday around your fingers, thinking so deeply that your forehead creased.
He pushes his fingers between your brows to smoothen out the wrinkles and you blink back into clarity.
“Sorry, I was just-”
“Distracted,” he grumbles, pushing his egg-fried rice around on his place. He has no appetite, thinking of all the different guys this fucker could be.
You give him a small smile and go back to your own meal.
God, you were so pretty. Your hair falls into your face a little, so he pushes it behind your ear easily. His fingers barely touch your cheek but he feels electricity zing through his body at the small contact. He wants to cup your soft cheek in his hand, feel how warm your skin is for real, but he settles on just… pushing your hair back and turning his eyes to his plate.
He doesn’t see how red your cheeks burn as he looks away.
—
“YN, you should just tell him,” your friend, Kyunghee… (Kyeonghae? Kyeongmi?) says, and her tone of voice makes Hoseok freeze in his tracks. The girls are in the corridor outside of the girls’ bathroom, and he is going to meet you to walk you to your shared fourth period class. But, something about what your friend is saying makes a pit of anxiety open up in his stomach.
He stands with his back to the wall, hidden from sight, but within hearing distance. He knows it’s wrong but Hoseok can’t help himself. It’s like he’s dying to know but can’t bear the truth either.
“I don’t know…”
You sound so unsure, so nervous, so different from what he knows you to be like, that it makes him sick.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
So, this is what you were talking about. Your crush. He bites his lip so hard that he can taste blood.
“I don’t know what I would do,” you continue on, and it sounds like you are seconds away from crying. Crying over some fucker who isn’t him. His fists clench by his side and he realized that his eyes, too, are stinging.
“Isn’t it better to tell him and get it off your chest?” Your other friend, Sana (Sara? Suha?) says, and he wants to put her head through the wall.
No. It wouldn’t be better. She shouldn’t say anything to anyone about any feelings she may or may not have!
“I think…” You pause, and he holds his breath. “I think I’m in love with him.”
And just like that, Hoseok feels part of himself die right then and there.
—
He doesn’t disappear like he wants to. He diligently walks you to your fourth period class, he sits beside you as he always does, he stares ahead with an intensity so strong that the teacher asks him if he’s alright three different times.
But, he doesn’t speak to you.
In fact, he doesn’t even look at you.
And, he can tell he’s hurting you. however, he can’t help it.
You hurt him first.
Yes, he knows you didn’t mean to. And he knows you probably can’t help how you feel either. But he’s hurting inside, so badly that he thinks he might suffocate. As soon as his last class lets out, he’s rushing out of his seat, out of the classroom and he’s walking back home at a pace so fast, he doesn’t realize his thighs are rubbed raw until he takes a shower later that night before bed.
It’s only when he knows he’s alone, when his dad is gone doing only God knows what, that he finally lets himself cry.
And he cries all night, even in his sleep, over you.
—
Your relationship becomes strained after that.
You notice it almost immediately. Hoseok stops waiting for you after class, he stops miraculously bumping into your in the corridors, he stops smiling at you through the windows of the class when he takes bathroom breaks.
Instead, there seems to be a wall of ice between the two of you, and you have no idea where it came from.
You try to corner him, to confront him about it, because you deserve an explanation, damn it, but he just weasels his way out of it by hooking onto someone else’s backpack and claiming to be meeting them for dinner or outpacing you with his stupidly long legs.
And, as much as it pains you to say it, you can’t just go to his apartment because you don’t know where he lives.
Over a decade of friendship and he has never invited you over to his place.
You aren’t even sure which area he lives in, even though you both had the bus together every afternoon after school since you were thirteen.
He has always been very private about his life, you wanted to respect his wishes, even if it felt like he didn’t trust you. You try not to personalize it - to not make it about you, but it had been hard, especially considering how open you are with him about everything.
Well, almost everything.
Still, this weirdness has to stop, and soon.
You watch Hobi walk out onto the baseball field in his team uniform. While you were inside studying, Hobi was outside being the shining star of your school’s sports’ team. He’s always been talented with his body and athletics, even if he constantly talked down on his skills. You knew he would be a great fit for the baseball and basketball team, so when you pushed him to go try-out, you knew he would shine. And you were right.
He doesn’t look back up to the window like he usually did to smile and wink at you, and it makes your lips draw down in a deep frown.
Did you do something to him? Did you upset him somehow?
Or… Did he find out?
You blanche at the thought.
But, you had been so careful. He couldn’t know.
Nervously, you gnaw at your thumb nail and feel your forehead furrow in a deep frown. You didn’t know how you could salvage this situation with your childhood best friend, but you know you couldn’t stand this uncomfortable stiffness between the two of you anymore.
Hours later, Hobi changes into his sneakers and tosses his school shoes into his locker. He closes the locker to see you standing directly to his right and it nearly scares the life out of him.
“Fuc- YN! Don’t do that,” he scolds, clutching his hand over his racing heart.
On the other hand, your heart is racing for a different reason. Seeing him look at you for the first time in weeks is making you incredibly nervous. So, you steel your expression and growl, “Follow me.”
“YN…”
You stall on your heel and glare over your shoulder. “Do not piss me off. Follow. Me. Hoseok.”
Fearfully, Hoseok clamps his mouth shut and faithfully trails behind you until you reach the park near your school. You walk far into the park, until you can just barely see the street, and turn to face him.
“Spill,” you command.
He avoids your eyes and shoves his hands in his pocket. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
“Do I look stupid to you?”
He gives you a brief look that reads, Yeah, kinda, dummy, before he returns his eyes to the space behind you.
You approach him but he takes one small step back, and that’s enough to stab at your heart.
“Hobi… Did I do something to you?”
He flinches and swallows, his expression growing pained for a moment before smoothing out into nothingness again.
“No,” he replies. “I just- This is a bit… I just want to make new friends.”
It all tumbles out at the end, like a flood of water that he can’t hold back, and if you felt hurt before, now it feels like he’s punched a hole in your chest.
“I never stopped you from making friends, Hobi,” you mutter, eyes stinging. “Did I?”
You really can’t be sure.
His lips pucker, strangely, like he’s sucking on something sour. Finally, he admits, “A little…”
“How?”
You gasp a little, your throat tight and thick, and your eyes are practically on fire.
“You… YN, you and I are always together,” he explains. He starts pacing then, as if he can’t keep himself still. “It’s me and it’s you, and it’s us. Nobody can come between that. So, of course I never made friends. Nobody wanted to talk to me or be around me, and I never needed anyone else. But now… I just feel like we don’t need to be… We should… I need… I need space, dummy.”
Biting down on what you wanted to say, you let out a shuddering breath and nod. “I understand.”
But the voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. It’s all garbled and wet and weird.
Hoseok seems to notice too because he stops pacing instantly.
“YN…?”
You glance up and he takes a shocked step back before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in close. You are pressed tightly against his chest and all you can see or smell is him.
“I didn’t mean it, don’t cry,” he whispers all at once. “I was being mean. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t cry.”
He’s whispering things over and over again, but you can’t really hear anything over the sound of his racing heartbeat. It’s so loud, it almost deafens you. Hoseok sits you both down on a bench and wraps you up nice and tight, swaying from side to side and patting your back until all the choked sobs have worked their way out.
He wipes your face with his sleeve, waving off your worries of mascara stains. “I’ve got a washing machine, dummy.”
You giggle, but it still sounds so wet and inhuman that it makes you both grimace.
“Can I tell you the truth, YN?
You peer up at him through wet lashes, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring ahead, and his side profile is so handsome, it takes your breath away. He’s always been so pretty to you.
“The reason I can’t be around you anymore is because I fucked up,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. It surprises you deeply as Hoseok rarely ever swears around you. He seems frustrated, nervous and scared. “I… I promised we would always be together, right?”
You nod.
“We both promised, right?”
You nod again.
He turns to look at you this time, and now he’s the one with watery eyes and flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
He takes in a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t for a long time, YN.”
“So…”
“I’m in love with you,” he says in a quiet whisper. The wind carries his words to your ears so delicately that it almost feels as if you imagined it. You stare, dumbly, at him while his ears pink under your gaze. He shrinks on himself and bites his bottom lip. “I told you I fucked up.”
“Then I think I fucked up too,” you admit after a long pause. You reach for his face, holding his cheeks between your shaky palms. “I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.”
His eyes widen until they are incredibly large, and then he’s kissing you. It isn’t hot and angry and wild like you had dreamed. It isn’t soft and chaste like you read about in books. It isn’t sloppy and wet like the girls told you it could be.
It’s warm and firm, like Hoseok always has been. He holds the back of your neck in his hand and moves his other hand to rest on your hip lightly. Hoseok pulls back to press his nose against yours and then pecks you twice on your lips, eyes fluttering closed. Then, he rests his forehead against your own and the two of you just… wait.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?”
You let out a giggle then, and shake your head, pulling back slightly. “Not at all, dummy.”
