“Would one of you like to explain why, exactly, a producer called and yelled at me for the attitude of my staff and one of my idols?” When neither Hongki nor Jonghun responded, both of them seated directly in front of the CEO's inside his office, the older man raised his brow and crossed his arms atop his desk. “No? Neither of you have anything to say? Jonghun, did I not specifically tell you to control yourself?”

 

Jonghun's eyes widened incredulously. “Why do you automatically blame me?!”

 

“Because I know your personality. You get your kicks out of making people's lives difficult,” the man shot back, shaking his head before turning his attention to Hongki. “And you. Do you have any idea how many people advised me against hiring you? One look at your employment history and anyone would realize there's a problem. You've had how many jobs in the past five years? The only one to last more than six months was your position at the academy.”

 

Jonghun made a face at Hongki. “You worked at an academy?”

 

“It was a performing arts school, an independent organization for kids who couldn't afford to—wait a minute, why am I explaining this to you?” Hongki quickly brushed off, waving his arms around dramatically. “Why are we even talking about this?”

 

“You're right, it's completely irrelevant. You know why?” Hongki stared at him blankly, and the CEO sighed. “Because I'm a forgiving man, Hongki. I believe in clean slates, and forming my own judgments. What I will not tolerate, however, are my employees going at each other's throats like a couple of petty school children.”

 

“Why am I getting scolded here?” demanded Hongki, as he pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Jonghun in accusation. “Jonghun's the one causing problems. I'm completely innocent!”

 

Jonghun scoffed. “The words Hongki and innocent do not belong in the same sentence together.”

 

“You left a box of live cockroaches in the dressing room!” Hongki cried out, his voice rising a good octave or two with the words. “They scattered everywhere!”

 

“You let cockroaches loose in the building?!” roared the CEO, making a strangled noise of disbelief. “Choi Jonghun, what is wrong with you?!”

 

“It was for science!” hissed Jonghun, perhaps a little too defensively. He crossed his arms over his chest and slunk back in his seat, hating the sharp pluck of embarrassment that tugged at his chest. No. He didn't regret it. Choi Jonghun didn't feel guilt, especially when it involved Hongki.

 

The CEO stared at him. “What kind of a science project involves setting an army of roaches loose inside our building? We'll have to call an exterminator!”

 

“I know one pest they can exterminate,” Jonghun grumbled.

 

Hongki smiled wryly. “Yeah, go look in the mirror and you'll find him.”

 

“Stop it, both of you!” hissed the CEO, this time as he slapped his hand against his desk a few times. “Jonghun, I am sick and tired of seeing you in my office. You need to learn to get over whatever disease that makes you think you have the right to treat people the way you do. You're not a prince.”

 

Jonghun laughed humorlessly. “My fans would disagree with you.”

 

“Your fans don't know how much of an entitled jerk you are,” the CEO snapped. “Do you think they would still fawn over you if they knew what you were really like?”

 

“They'd probably just pull the oppa didn't mean it card and insist he must be having a bad day,” Hongki cracked, before he raised his voice a few octaves, imitating a girl. “Because oppa is a perfect human being who can never, ever do anything wrong.”

 

Jonghun scowled at him. “Who asked you, smart mouth?!”

 

“Both of you, shush!” The CEO hissed once more, before he looked at Jonghun and sighed. “Jonghun, we're issuing a formal apology to both the station and the staff. We'll tell them you are very regretful, and that you will spend the next few weeks reflecting. As of today, you are hereby pulled from all your activities until your tour in Japan.”

 

Jonghun scoffed and smiled sarcastically. “You're going to punish me by giving me time off for over a month? Fine by me.”

 

“It's not time off,” the man said, his next words wiping the smile right off Jonghun's face. “You're going to be here every day, at 5:30AM. You are going to be practicing, both on your own and with the trainees, and you will not be going home until 10:00 at night. Perhaps a reminder of your trainee days will serve to humble you a bit. You should be well aware by now that your actions don't just affect you. They affect your group, this company, our staff, and of course, me.”

 

“That's completely unfair!” Jonghun sputtered.

 

“Unfair? You want to say that to all the trainees who spend every day working their butts off, while you're here living their dream? You want to talk about unfair, why don't you talk to all the kids here who'd kill to be you.”

 

Jonghun merely stared at him for a moment, gritting his teeth, before his dark gaze flicked over to Hongki. “And what about him, huh?”

 

“That doesn't concern you,” the CEO brushed off, before his made a shooing motion with his hands, gesturing for Jonghun to leave. “Scram, now.”

 

Jonghun merely sat there for a moment, staring at Hongki wordlessly, before he grit his teeth and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. The CEO sighed at this, and Hongki could only stare in the direction Jonghun had left, feeling a hint of guilt at letting Jonghun take all the blame. Hongki was partially at fault too, him and his damned temper, but here Jonghun took the entire brunt of the blame.

 

“Sixteen and a half hours?” Hongki said incredulously, hoping for a bit of mercy at Jonghun's expense. “Isn't that a bit much?”

 

“Most trainees are up at 4, and don't return to their dorms until after midnight. We give them a 10:30 curfew, but most of them end up breaking it anyway just to practice. Jonghun used to be like that too, you know.”

 

Hongki hummed in response. “I find that really hard to believe.”

 

“I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it myself. He used to carry his guitar around everywhere, always practicing, always jotting down chords.” The man sighed, shaking his head a little before he continued. “I haven't seen that side of him in years. He used to have such a passion for music, but now it's as if he doesn't even care anymore. He does everything so halfheartedly, I'm convinced he does it on purpose just to spite me.”

 

The words struck an odd chord with Hongki.

 

Choi Jonghun, that spoiled, demanding diva, actually had a love for something other than himself? He'd have to see that to believe it. He was so vain, it was hard to believe he worked for anything other than himself. What exactly were his dreams, anyway? Why had he pursued music? Why did he have such a horrid attitude about the whole thing?

 

Hongki suddenly felt bothered by it all. Jonghun couldn't be all bad, could he?

 

“Anyway, enough about that,” the CEO said, speaking much calmer than he had been a few moments ago. “I have something to run by you. A proposition, of sorts.”

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

 

Jonghun glared and paced back and forth in front the CEO's door, thumbnail caught between his teeth.

 

How long were they going to sit in there talking? What could the CEO possibly have to say to Hongki that was taking so long? Was he being praised? Scolded? Were they laughing about Jonghun behind his back? The thought alone made him scowl. There was something weird about Lee Hongki, something that made Jonghun reel with suspicion.

 

The circumstances surrounding his employment were fishy at best. Jonghun already knew he got the job through connections, which wasn't unusual in itself, at least in this industry. What didn't make sense, however, was the fact that the CEO had implied that Hongki couldn't keep a job longer than six months.

 

How many times had he gotten fired? And if that were indeed the case, why had he gotten fired so many times? Hongki had mentioned working in an academy somewhere. Had he been a teacher of some sort? Jonghun could only scoff at the thought.

 

Lee Hongki, a teacher.

 

What a ridiculous idea.

 

Still, as Jonghun continued staring at the CEO's closed office door, he couldn't keep his thoughts from roaming in every different direction. The man knew about Hongki's sketchy employment history, yet he hired him anyway. Hongki was rowdy, crabby and completely disrespectful, and yet the CEO still allowed him to keep his job.

 

What gives? Why would he hire somebody like Hongki? Why would the CEO keep him employed, especially after this latest incident? More importantly, why did Jonghun get in trouble, but Hongki got to weasel out of scoldings time and time again? What made him so special? What had he done to rally the unbridled support of the company's head honcho?

 

Unless...

 

Unless Hongki was that sort of person.

 

The idea made Jonghun stop dead in his tracks.

 

Surely that wasn't the case. Hongki was a stubborn brat with a serious attitude problem, but surely he wasn't so low as to trade ual favors in exchange for money and employment. Surely it was just his imagination. Surely the suspicion was just that—a suspicion. There was no way such a cheeky person would allow himself to be used like that. No. It was a dumb idea. Absolutely ridiculous.

 

The CEO... and Hongki?

 

Jonghun suddenly felt nauseous.

 

That sick old bastard! How dare he use such a scatterbrained simpleton!

 

Jonghun suddenly had his ear pressed to the door, listening for even the slightest hint of immoral actions. He'd break this door down if he had to. Jonghun narrowed his eyes, listening, but heard only muffled conversation. He pressed himself closer. He couldn't make out a single damn word. What the hell were they talking about? Hadn't they been in there long enough?

 

Jonghun scowled.

 

He had more than half a mind to bust the door down right then and there, but as soon as the thought appeared, the door swung open—

 

—and promptly whacked Jonghun right in the face.

 

“Ow, dammit!” Jonghun hissed, both hands flying up to cradle his—now throbbing—nose.

 

Hongki made a face, glancing back and forth between Jonghun and the door as though he couldn't figure out how Jonghun managed to get hit by it. “What are you doing?”

 

“I'm holding my face together, what does it look like I'm doing?!” Jonghun snapped, wincing a little as he pulled his hands back. The sight of red caused his eyes to widen, a strangled noise of surprise sounding in the back of his throat. “Ack! I'm bleeding!”

 

“What were you doing behind the door like that?” Hongki hissed, his hands instinctively coming to rest on either side of Jonghun's face as he inspected the damage.

 

Jonghun's gaze flared. “What were you doing, barreling through it like a behemoth?!”

 

“I didn't barrel through it!” Hongki huffed. “I just opened it and—don't tilt your head back, stupid!”

 

“It'll come out my nose if I don't!”

 

“Would you rather puke up blood? Stop it!” snapped Hongki, this time as he brought one hand to the back of Jonghun's head, forcing him still. His fingers grasped tightly at the dark locks of hair at the nape of his neck, and suddenly Jonghun was all too aware of their close proximity.

 

There was hardly a height difference between them, perhaps just a couple centimeters apart. This left Jonghun eye to eye with him, their chests nearly pressed against each other, their noses nearly touching. Hongki's lashes, so long and strangely feminine, lightly brushed against fair skinned cheekbones with every flutter of a blink. His gaze flicked up to meet Jonghun's, and suddenly he found himself losing all semblance of reason.

 

Hongki was so close, and yet all Jonghun could think about was how much closer he could be.

 

Until Hongki violently shoved a tissue up his bleeding nostril.

 

Jonghun hissed and shoved Hongki back. “That hurts, dammit! Can't you be more gentle?”

 

“Can you not be such a whiny prince?” Hongki shot back. “Do you want the bleeding to stop or not? Come with me.” Without even waiting for a response, Hongki grabbed Jonghun's arm and turned around, all but dragging him down the hall with him.

 

“What do you know about treating a nosebleed, huh?!” huffed Jonghun, though he followed after Hongki anyway.

 

Hongki sighed. “I've had my fair share of getting hit in the face, Jonghun.”

 

Jonghun's brow knit together at the words. “What do you mean?”

 

“Believe it or not, kids aren't too kind to weirdos like me. I like makeup, and fashion, and all this other pansy that somehow makes me less of a man for enjoying,” Hongki made a face and pulled Jonghun into the bathroom. “I walked around with a permanent target painted on my back.”

 

“Were you bullied?”

 

“What do you care?” Hongki grimaced as he gingerly removed the tissue, only to replace it was a clean one and pinch Jonghun's nostrils shut. “God, how can one little nudge make somebody bleed so much? Are you made of glass? Why are you so fragile?”

 

“I'm not fragile!”

 

“What the hell were you doing back there anyway?” Hongki demanded. “Eavesdropping? Trying to scare me again?”

 

“No! I was just making sure that—” Jonghun immediately snapped his mouth shut the moment he realized what was about to slip through. How was he supposed to explain himself anyway? Oh, no, he wasn't eavesdropping, he was just verifying there wasn't any shady business going on behind closed doors. Hongki wouldn't believe him, Jonghun was certain of it.

 

He'd smack him for it, Jonghun knew he would.

 

Hongki cocked his head to the side. “Making sure that... what?” When Jonghun said nothing, opting only to respond with a purse of his lips, Hongki raised his brow. “Oh, you've got nothing to say all of a sudden? What is it? What idiotic idea got into your head this time?”

 

Jonghun grit his teeth, suddenly wishing to slink away into the shadows.

 

Wait a minute, why should Jonghun feel embarrassed? He was the one being a good person by making sure Hongki was being treated with standard human decency. He wasn't pulling anything weird. How dare Hongki suggest he was creeping around like some kook?

 

No, Jonghun refused to let Hongki embarrass him.

 

He wouldn't let himself feel as though he'd done something wrong.

 

“Are you a morally loose person, Hongki?”

 

Jonghun hadn't meant the words to come out quite like that, but once they had been said, there was no way to reel them back in. Hongki merely stared at him for a moment, the look in his eyes flickering with the spark of a fire, and suddenly Jonghun regretted saying anything at all.

 

Damn it.

 

How could Hongki just look at him and make him feel like an idiot?

 

“Am I what?” Hongki sputtered, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

 

“Are you, know... free with yourself?” Jonghun stubbornly persisted, the words coming out a little more accusatory than he intended. “Do you flaunt yourself to get what you want?”

 

Hongki stared at him incredulously. “Please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting.”

 

“Do you use your body to take advantage of people?”

 

“Just when I think you can't get any stupider...” Hongki grumbled under his breath, before reached up and smacked Jonghun upside the head. “What in god's name is the matter with you?! You're asking if I whored myself out for a job? What kind of person do you think I am, you stupid, spoiled prince?!”

 

Jonghun cringed and swatted his hand away. “Stop yelling at me! That's not what I meant!”

 

“Oh, really?” Hongki sneered, before he waved his arms around in an angry huff. “Then enlighten me, oh wise one. Since you seem to know everything, what are you asking?”

 

“I was just... you know... You, the CEO...” Jonghun fumbled, before he scowled and hissed, this time far too defensively, “You were in there a long time, okay?!”

 

“So you thought we were—Choi Jonghun, I ought to kill you just for saying that!” Hongki shouted, before he grabbed Jonghun by his shirt collar and violently shook him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you really that stupid? Do you really think that I—”

 

Hongki released his hold on him all of a sudden, stepping back and allowing a loud, sarcastic, disbelieving laugh to escape his lips. “You think I'm a .” Hongki shook his head, running a hand over his face. “You know what, I don't even care. Think whatever you want. Stupid me, I actually thought you had a shred of human decency.”

 

The words were harsh, and they stung more than Jonghun wanted to admit.

 

“Wait, Hongki that's not,” Jonghun grumbled as Hongki barged out the door in an angry huff. Running a hand through his hair, Jonghun turned to the door and snapped, “Oppa didn't mean it, okay?!”

 

It wasn't like he expected Hongki to turn around and come back at the words. He knew Hongki was stubborn, as stubborn as he was, but Jonghun couldn't deny the sharp jab at being met with nothing but silence. Grimacing, Jonghun turned to the mirror and winced a little, gingerly touching his nose.

 

“Aish, why does it hurt so much?”

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

 

By the time Hongki made it home that night, he was all but frothing at the mouth.

 

Of all the stupid, despicable garbage that had come from Jonghun's mouth, this one had to take the cake. He couldn't believe that obnoxious prince thought he slept his way to a job. What the hell was the matter with him? He believed Hongki was too dumb to keep a job through normal means, so he had to resort to using his body instead? Did he really think Hongki was that easy?

 

“God, I can't stand him!” Hongki hissed at no one in particular, angrily running a hand through his hair and fishing his keys out of his pocket. He walked up the stairwell to his apartment, but immediately froze in his tracks once he caught sight of the costumed creep standing outside his door.

 

Hongki groaned, turned to the wall and then whacked his head against it a few times.

 

For crying out loud, not another one.

 

How many more of these weirdos did Hongki have to run off? Ever since Jonghun created that idiotic dating profile for him, Hongki had had to deal with inordinate amounts of fruitcakes showing up on his doorstep. Previously, there had been a guy in a panda suit on one day, a trio of mimes the next, who, surprise surprise, communicated only through pantomime, and then a girl who painted herself blue and spoke only through interpretive dance.

 

And of course, how could Hongki forget the guy who showed up in only a pizza box.

 

Really. He wore a pizza box over his unmentionables, and nothing else. Hongki had never seen anything so vomit inducing in his life. He just knew he'd never be able to order pizza again. The thought alone nearly made him hurl.

 

Looking down the hall, Hongki could only sigh wearily.

 

This one seemed to believe he was Dracula.

 

“Choi Jonghun, I am going to kill you,” Hongki muttered to himself, grimacing when the costumed weirdo caught sight of him.

 

“I want to your blood!” The crackpot called out, his cape billowing behind him with the theatrical flail of his arms. Wide, dark rimmed eyes stared at him, the bug-eyed stare nearly crazed, causing Hongki to sigh and wonder if this weirdo had taken his makeup advice from Death Note's L.

 

“I'm sure you do,” he remarked dryly. “Now get lost.”

 

The guy stood straightened himself and stared at him confusedly. “Eh? Are you not Lee Hongki?”

 

“Lee Hongki doesn't live here anymore,” Hongki cracked. “He died years ago in a tragic kitchen accident. His ghost now haunts this place, and he really doesn't like intruders.”

 

“Then who are you?”

 

“I'm a priest. I'm here to get rid of all the evil spirits. See this?” Hongki held up his water bottle. “It's my holy water. Begone, foul demon.” He flicked water at him, and Discount Dracula made a face at him.

 

“Freak,” he muttered, and then disappeared down the hall.

 

Hongki made a noise of disbelief. “Who's calling who a freak?”

 

Sighing, Hongki shook his head and ran a hand through his hair once more. He trudged into his apartment and kicked off his shoes, wanting nothing more than to climb underneath a bundle of blankets and not reemerge for several years or so. Jonghun was truly exhausting, exasperating, and Hongki couldn't believe he'd actually felt bad for him when the CEO slapped him with a sixteen hour day at the company.

 

No, Hongki silently scolded himself. Jonghun deserved it. He was a brat. A diva. An ill tempered punk. And besides that, he'd all but accused Hongki of sleeping with his boss. God, Jonghun really knew how to get Hongki's blood boiling. Just thinking about him sent his head reeling and his stomach burning with rage.

 

With a noise of frustration, Hongki flopped onto the living room floor, right in front of the couch. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed and looked at his mess of an apartment. Clothing lay scattered everywhere, over the couch, on the coffee table, even over the television. Papers containing clothing sketches, ideas, concepts, they too were scattered all over the place, along with a vast array of nail polish.

 

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Hongki rested his chin atop his knees. He found his gaze drawn to the pair of guitars in the corner, one electric and one acoustic, both equally old and equally beat up. Once again, the nostalgia of his adolescence filled the darkest corners of his heart, bringing to light all the memories that made him long to have his best friend at his side once more.

 

“You know, if I didn't know you so well, I'd swear you were a girl,” Wonbin grimaced in the midst of his parents' living room, watching as Hongki didn't even spare a glance at him, and merely continued painting his nails. “Why do you have such weird hobbies?”

 

“It's not weird,” Hongki huffed, though he still didn't cease his actions. “It's art.”

 

Wonbin stared at him, a frown at his lips. “People make fun of you for it.”

 

Hongki rolled his eyes. “So what?”

 

“They're hitting you, Hongki,” Wonbin said, as if Hongki didn't already know. He didn't respond, and Wonbin pursed his lips, grabbing Hongki's arm and forcing his hand away from his nails. Hongki's gaze blazed with wildfire.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Look at this,” Wonbin demanded, flipping Hongki's arm over to reveal the underside of it—a grim collection of purple, green and blue blemishes amidst a fair mass of skin. The result of his classmates' harassment, of fighting back, of reaching up to protect his face when he'd been thrown to the ground, outnumbered and overpowered.

 

It happened so often, Hongki returning home with new bruises and bloodied lips, hair mussed and skin scraped. His mother insisted he must be at fault, his dad wasn't in the picture, and his younger brother, the boy who had always followed him around with startling admiration in his eyes, he suddenly withdrew himself from Hongki. He really had no one to turn to.

 

No one except Wonbin.

 

“How long are you going to insist it's nothing?” Wonbin pressed, gaze hard and unwavering.

 

Hongki yanked his arm out of his friend's grip. “I'm not defenseless, Wonbin. And I don't need you to protect me either. You think I don't know about you going around picking fights with everyone who looks at me funny?”

 

“But they have no right to—”

 

“No, they don't. And neither do you. It's insulting, having you fight my battles for me behind my back. I'm not your girlfriend, Wonbin. I don't need you defending my honor.”

 

Wonbin stared at him. “If I don't, then who will?”

 

“I can take care of myself!” Hongki snapped.

 

“Don't spew that bull! Damn it, Hongki, why don't you ever let anyone help you? It's okay to rely on people. You don't have to fight everything alone.”

 

“You don't get it,” Hongki ran a hand through his hair, grimacing before shook his head and sighed. “I need you, Wonbin. Not fighting my battles, or taking care of me like you always do. I need you to just be here, with me. That's it.”

 

Wonbin stared at him for a moment, before the expression on his face softened.

 

“Idiot,” he murmured, this time as he ruffled Hongki's hair. “I'll always be here. You and me against the world, right?”

 

Hongki's eyes burned at the memory, and he felt inexplicably angry at the sudden onset of unshed tears. Hongki leant his head back against the couch cushions and squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the lump that formed in the back of his throat. He wouldn't cry anymore. He'd vowed to himself that he wouldn't shed anymore tears, that he wouldn't break down and let himself feel broken.

 

“You bastard,” Hongki whispered, even though he knew he couldn't hear him. “How many times have I told you I can't do this without you?”

 

Hongki wasn't sure how long he fought off the tears, alone and withdrawn within the darkness of his own heartache. He fell asleep on the floor again, both wishing for and dreading the next sunrise. It'd been so long since he craved for the arms of another, to hold him close and let him know he wasn't alone.

 

For the first time, Jonghun appeared in his dreams.

 

And for the first time since Wonbin's death, Hongki felt an old longing in his heart, one that had been lying dormant in the darkness for years.

 

 

 

><><><><

 

 

A/N
I have a confession.
This update is only half of chapter 4, but it was getting far too long for one single update.
As a result, it's been broken into two updates, and part 2 should be uploaded soonish. :)


The second part isn't quite finished yet, but I wanted this first part up ASAP. 
I'm striving to have part 2 up sometime this weekend. If that doesn't end up working out, then definitely within the next week or two. 


Thank you for your continued support! 
You guys are the best, and I love you.
*showers everyone with love and kisses*

See you again soon :)