It is. Not Christmas anymore. I do it for the passion of the yaoi not for what's seasonally appropriate. Because I'm based or something. Or I'm just cringe but I'll let the jury decide on that one
Merry SevZen Christmas \o/ Here’s a CG edit based on fanart (link) made by @spec-tralarts I always wanted to see what it’d look like as a CG, and since Cheritz doesn’t take requests, guess I had to make it myself.
Go visit her blog for more SevZen content, her back hurts from carrying this ship. For us. 🙏
♡ characters: 707, zen
♡ word count: ~2900
♡ ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670588
♡ description: noticing saeyoung's sour mood as of late, zen invites him over for an impromptu beauty treatment to help brighten his mood.
♡ note: this was originally going to be part of a “fives time, one time” series, but i fell out of mysme before i could finish so idk if it’ll ever be done. but for saeyoung’s bday, here’s my fave chapter of it!
[ZEN] hey,
[ZEN] is everything okay?
[ZEN] you seemed kinda snippy in the messenger.
saeyoung frowns at his phone. he doesn’t particularly want to think about the way he’d snapped at yoosung and jaehee barely an hour ago. they’d only been joking around with him, after all. normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he’s 707! he loves to joke!
...except for the fact that for last few days, he hasn’t exactly been in the best of moods.
his sourness is to be expected, given the circumstances. saeran left on his travel therapy trip three days ago, and saeyoung’s only gotten more and more tense as the days passed without being able to reach his brother. yoosung and jaehee likely were being a bit more playful than normal in an attempt to cheer him up. which, upon realization, only made him feel worse for being sharp with them and then abruptly leaving the messenger.
another text pings its arrival. saeyoung waits a full minute before reluctantly checking it.
[ZEN] if you want to talk about it, give me a call.
he doesn’t want to talk about it, is the thing. he wants to push the fact that it ever happened as far back in his mind as possible so that he can maybe, with any luck, forget about it entirely. he doesn’t like being mean, especially not to the only friends he’s got, but he also doesn’t know how to resolve the lonely bitterness twisting his guts into knots.
“wow. i didn’t really expect you to call.”
zen’s voice shocks saeyoung out of his thoughts. when had he dialed zen’s number? had he really zoned out that hard? he doesn’t respond, trying to decide if just hanging up is the best route for him to take.
noting the silence, zen keeps talking. he’s good at that. “if you don’t want to talk, want me to talk instead? i can tell you about the audition i went to today.”
wanting anything to keep him out of his own head, saeyoung agrees.
that’s all zen needs to launch into a detailed play-by-play of his latest audition for a musical called illegally brunette. he even goes so far as to reenact some of his lines, incredibly overly dramatical just to (successfully) pull a laugh out of saeyoung, who knows enough of the musical to attempt an enthusiastic response in kind.
by the end of it, when their laughter has died down, saeyoung sighs. the weight from earlier settles back onto his lungs. “i feel bad.”
“about jaehee and yoosung? you shouldn’t,” zen says simply. “they know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
saeyoung hums noncommittally. “still, i was so mean… i should apologize again.”
“it wouldn’t hurt.” zen pauses. “hey, you know what else you should do?”
confused, he says, “what?”
“come over tonight. i’ve got a new box of face masks i’ve been waiting to use, and i think you could use some good old fashioned self-care.”
the offer leaves saeyoung momentarily speechless again. “i’m not- i don’t know, zen, i’m not really the face mask type. i’m more the ‘forget to wash your face for four days and then wonder why it’s so greasy’ type.” it’s meant to be a lighthearted joke, but it falls flat even to his own ears.
“even more of a reason for you to come!” zen insists. “that sounds incredibly unhealthy, for one thing. and you might find that you like having a nightly routine.”
“hmm. will there be cute headbands?”
zen laughs. “yeah, i’ve got plenty to choose from. any other requests?”
“not really,” saeyoung says sheepishly. “i don’t know much else about stuff like that.”
“well, lucky for you,” zen says, excitement in his voice, “i’m the king of self-care.”
---
when the door opens to zen’s semi-underground apartment, saeyoung is met with a wide grin and a plush robe being thrust at him. it’s black and covered in yellow stars and there’s no way zen just happened to have it on hand. he takes the robe, rubbing the fabric with his thumbs, and ignores the way his heart swells as zen ushers him inside.
the apartment is nice; it’s small, but not uncomfortably so, and zen keeps everything tidy. the lights are dimmed, replaced by a series of candles that smell like rosewater. instrumental music plays quietly from the tiny cassette player set up by the television. there’s a plethora of items situated on the coffee table; several types of face masks and headbands, a collection of skin-care products, a fruit tray, a machine he can’t identify that looks a bit like a vase, and a pitcher of water.
it’s… a lot. very much unexpected, especially since he knows zen doesn’t eat any better than he does most days. to mask his surprise, saeyoung jokes, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you tricked me into a date.”
zen shoots him a glare, which makes him snicker. the silver-haired man isn’t exactly the most threatening thing saeyoung’s ever seen, especially not when he’s wearing a fluffy gold-monogrammed house robe. “you just got here. don’t ruin it.” he plops down onto the couch. “put your robe on, kick your shoes off. get comfortable! you don’t have to be so stiff, you’re starting to look like jumin han.”
somehow, that does help saeyoung relax a little. zen’s not making this into a big deal (even if he has made it into a big production), so he doesn't need to be so stressed out either. he leaves his shoes by the door and pulls the robe on, shutting out the chill of zen’s apartment. “ignoring your horrible insinuation that i am anything like our dear ceo-in-training,” he says, taking a seat on the side of the couch opposite zen, “what’s the plan here?”
“our dear ceo-in-training,” zen repeats with a shudder. “ugh. there’s nothing “dear” about him. anyway, my normal routine is pretty involved, so we’re going to take it down a little.” listing out the steps on his fingers, he says, “we’ve got the steaming, the initial cleaner, then the exfoliation, the face mask, and the moisturizer last.”
“that sounds... good, i think.”
“great! let’s get started.”
saeyoung plucks a pale yellow headband with a small bow on it from the pile and uses it to hold his bangs away from his face, mimicking the way zen positions his own red headband. the first few steps of the process are easy: sit in front of the vase-shaped machine for ten minutes and let it “open his pores,” wash his face with a transparent blue liquid, then scrub with something that feels like sand (“how does this help your skin?” “it gets rid of dead skin cells.” “gross.”).
the face mask is where the real fun begins. zen spreads out a selection of packets before him, each a different color and each with a different descriptor. saeyoung doesn’t know what any of them really mean (nor is he confident enough to ask) so he picks the first his eyes land on, labeled “sweet tea and lemon: for all skin types.” whatever that means.
“so, what you want to do,” zen explains as he scoots a bit closer to saeyoung to flip the packet over, “is spread this orange paste all over your face. it’ll feel like wet clay because that’s basically what it is. avoid your eyebrows and hair line at all costs.”
saeyoung looks up from the instructions. “why?”
“because this type of mask peels off and it will take hair with it.” zen winces at a memory. “trust me, i’ve done it.”
“huh. noted.”
---
when he’s finished applying his mask, saeyoung squints in zen’s direction. “is this good?”
zen leans forward to examine saeyoung’s face, wiping some excess exfoliating cream on his towel. saeyoung’s done fairly well for a beginner, zen notes, though it’s layered a bit too thick in some places. “you have some spots that need fixing. otherwise they won’t dry with the rest of the mask.” without thinking, zen reaches up to gently cup the right side of saeyoung’s face and drag a thumb across his cheek, just under his eye, to smooth out a patch of goop.
the second zen’s fingers touch his face, saeyoung’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest. he’s incredibly grateful for the honey-colored face mask he’d chosen - without it, his furious blushing would be impossible to explain. his eyes widen as zen’s ruby gaze locks with his, and zen is so close that saeyoung can make out his features crystal clear even without glasses. neither of them move for what feels like several minutes (but in reality is only twelve seconds).
and then there’s a loud clunk from the cassette player followed by an awful buzzing sound. zen snatches his hand away like he’s been electrocuted while saeyoung straightens his posture with an awkward clearing of his throat, staring at the radio with a look that could kill.
zen jumps up to go fiddle with the radio like he’s done a thousand times before - saeyoung sits with his hands in his lap, praying for his heart to stop hammering so loudly. after a beat, zen says, “there’s a spot on your nose that you missed,” without even a glance back at the couch. the player has stopped buzzing as loudly, but a low hum persists.
contemplatively, saeyoung gingerly pats at his nose to adjust the spot zen mentioned. he doesn’t want to speak, still trying to wrangle the butterflies in his stomach, but his instinct to fix things wins out. “can i see it? the radio?”
there’s a pause before zen hands the radio off to saeyoung and sits back down, pretending to check something on his phone - saeyoung knows he’s pretending because he recognizes the motions of opening an app, scrolling for a moment, and then swiping up to close it. but saeyoung quickly becomes too absorbed in tinkering with the tape deck to pay attention to the way zen keeps stealing glances at him, then eventually shifting to watch with curious eyes.
several minutes later, saeyoung finally makes a satisfied sound, looking up from the radio with a victorious smile. “there we go. you shouldn’t have to smack it around anymore.” he offers it out to zen.
“what was wrong with it?” zen asks (taking great care to not accidentally brush saeyoung’s hand with his own) as he takes back the object. “how’d you know how to fix it without any tools or anything?”
saeyoung shrugs. “some parts were just loose and banging against each other. nothing serious, which is surprising for something so old.” he laughs. “have you considered upgrading to something from this decade?”
defensive, zen hugs the cassette player to his chest. “not everyone is a genius like you, seven choi. some of us like our simple machinery.” the tension is ebbing, finally. thank god. he stands to return his treasured radio to its spot on the shelf. “you should be okay to start peeling off your mask, just make sure it’s all dry first.”
saeyoung obediently pats his face and, when no goo sticks to his fingers, he gently starts to remove it. the sensation is… unnerving, somehow. “this makes me feel like a serial killer.”
“i- that’s where your mind goes?”
“yeah! i’m peeling off a mold of my own face! i think i saw something like this in a horror movie a month ago except it was, like, a real face.”
“okay, gross. no horror movie talk in the self-care zone.”
“look, it’s even dried to almost match my skin tone.” saeyoung holds up a particularly large strip of faux-skin. “this is a weird hobby you’ve got, zen.”
zen wrinkles his nose and reaches out to swat at saeyoung’s hand, except saeyoung’s faster than him and easily pulls back before the hit can connect. “there’s nothing weird about taking care of your skin. as usual, you’re the only weird one here.”
tossing the gunk into the small trash can by the table, saeyoung says, “if you want weird, i can flip my eyelids inside out. that always freaks yoosung out.”
“everything freaks yoosung out,” zen points out with a laugh, beginning to peel away at his own mask. “if you specifically look at him a little too long, he acts like he’s going to pass out.”
“it’s a superpower,” he replies proudly. he sheds the final remnants of his mask and blessedly puts his glasses back on, blinking a few times as the world comes back into focus.
zen watches him as closely as possible without potentially getting caught for also doing something weird. “what do you think? does your skin feel softer?”
running his fingertips in circles on his cheek, saeyoung answers, “i think so. is that the end?”
“you didn’t moisturize, but it’s fine if you want to skip it.”
saeyoung decides he will skip it because he’s already feeling a headache blooming from not wearing his glasses for the last forty-five minutes. “do you really do this every night?”
“every other night,” zen nods. “my good looks are all natural, obviously, but a little maintenance goes a long way. it’s why i sparkle ten times brighter than anyone else.” he’s preening, clearly looking for saeyoung to reinforce his claims.
and, well, he’s not wrong to brag. zen is gorgeous. everyone knows it, whether they admit it or not. his eyes glitter like refined gemstones, his hair is silky-smooth, he’s built like michelangelo’s david, for christ’s sake.
“and the prettiest boy in all the land is giving me free skin care tips.” saeyoung can’t help the dumb grin plastered on his face. he places his clasped hands over his heart, batting his eyes at zen for added effect. “i’m so honored. perhaps one day i can be as beautiful as you, lovely zen?”
“oh, shut up,” zen scoffs in response - but there’s an edge to his voice and a twitch of his lips that suggests he’s pleased with the response. “you’ll never match my gorgeousness, let’s get that straight.”
and saeyoung laughs so abruptly at that that he actually snorts, hands clamping over his mouth immediately as zen’s surprised gaze snaps to his. not that it matters; the giggling won’t be stopped now, no matter how embarrassed he is.
“what,” zen begins, trying to stifle his own building laughter, “was that?”
all saeyoung can do is shake his head helplessly as he sinks lower against the arm of the couch. he inhales sharply, trying to catch his breath, but his giggle fit doesn’t let up.
“saeyoung, you can’t die in my apartment. think of my image!” it’s a joke, of course, because now zen is just having fun watching saeyoung unravel at the seams like he hasn’t laughed this hard in years. hell, there are even tears in his eyes.
“you can’t,” saeyoung manages after another minute of uninterrupted wheezing, “that never happened, you can’t tell anyone i snorted.” he takes his glasses off to wipe away his tears.
“are you kidding?” zen’s smile is radiant. “imagine what the rfa will say when i tell them i brought saeyoung choi to tears for literally just breathing.”
saeyoung swings his hand towel at zen without any real force. “don’t give yourself so much credit, i was definitely laughing at myself.”
zen catches the other end of the towel. “yeah, because i made you laugh hard enough to snort.”
“but only because half of your face is still green from your mask! you look like if double-face and hulky had a baby.”
he drops the towel to touch his cheek, dry and wrinkly. “okay, fair point. stop distracting me and let me peel it all off then.”
“ooh, i’m distracting you~?” saeyoung sticks his tongue out at the frown he receives.
“i go out of my way to do something so nice for you and this is the thanks i get?” zen sighs dramatically.
he knows zen isn’t serious, but it does motivate him to sit up straight and be genuine for a minute. “i do appreciate you inviting me tonight. it’s boring,” read: lonely, “staying at my place by myself, so it was good to get out. i needed it.”
“yeah, of course.” zen shrugs, attempting at nonchalance. “i don’t have much, but you’re always welcome here. you can stay tonight too if you want. we can order real food and watch movies.”
a fuzzy feeling settles in saeyoung’s chest. “really? but i didn’t bring any extra clothes or anything, so-”
“you can wear something of mine,” zen interrupts. saeyoung doesn’t have the safety of a mask to hide behind this time, so he fights against the blush threatening to color his cheeks. luckily zen is too busy removing his new layer of “skin” to notice. “it’s no big deal. you said you don’t like staying alone, right? and i don’t have practice until late tomorrow afternoon.” he glances at saeyoung, warm smile on his face. “you should stay.”
when was the last time he had a sleepover with someone that wasn’t yoosung? saeyoung has no idea, but the thought of lounging around in zen’s pajamas and a very soft robe while watching movies with a friend is incredibly enticing.
at length, he says, “...yeah. okay, sure. that sounds fun.” he prays his smile doesn’t come off as shy. “thanks, zen.”
finally clean-faced, zen stands and motions for saeyoung to follow. “c’mon, let’s find you something comfy to wear.”
