#THE HUZZ??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enlogs · 25 days ago

Text

are we still friends? ⊹ ࣪ ˖ stairmaster irl + 2.1k

part one | part two | part three

If there was one thing Sunghoon was the best at, it would be running late.

Every day it was a different reason; whether it be him forgetting to put his glasses on (in fact, it had happened the other day. He ran down the stairwell of his apartment and into the parking garage without questioning why his vision was so bad. That is, until he began to put his car into reverse and heard a very long, very angry honk coming from behind him. Never trust Park Sunghoon to adequately check his blind spots.), standing in a particularly long line to pick up Y/N’s favorite drink, or even losing time to traffic.

In true Sunghoon nature, he was late.

Well, there were a variety of factors in play. Last night, he had pulled an all-nighter with Jake—his ever-faithful best friend, who just so happened to be one of Y/N’s close friends as well—to debrief the details of his confession. (Although Jake would argue that “attempt at a confession” would be a more befitting label.)

“Let me get this straight,” Jake says, punctuating his sentence by sitting up. His eyebrows furrow as if he is in deep thought. After a pregnant moment of silence, he continues, “Y/N invited you over, potentially under the assumption that you were going to confess, but nothing happened?”

“Yes, Jake, that’s exactly what happened. Nothing! I don’t even know how I could have fumbled that badly,” Sunghoon groans. “I just—”

“...fuck with her heavy?” Jake interjects with a teasing grin. In a drunken stupor many months prior, Sunghoon had admitted to him long-time crushing on Y/N by describing his affections as, candidly put, “fuckin’ with her heavy.” Jake cheekily reaches over and ruffles Sunghoon’s hair, much to the younger man’s chagrin. “Or, in your words, ‘just left but kept thinking about her’ even though you were barely one foot deep in your car?”

Leave it to Jake Sim to crush your dreams without trying.

Maybe trusting Jake to hold onto a secret was a bad mistake. What if he was a sleeper agent enlisted by Y/N to feed him propaganda? What if he was just putting thoughts into Sunghoon’s mind to deter him from chasing the girl of his dreams? Or, worse of all, what if Jake had a spycam installed in his glasses?

Maybe that was precisely it: his glasses—now glaringly obvious to Sunghoon that obviously they were Meta smart glasses all along—must have been streaming the conversation directly to Y/N so that it could expose each of his deepest thoughts. Maybe Jake Sim was a phoney best friend after all.

“—ello? Earth to Sunghoon? Dude, you gotta stop tuning me out. l abandoned my Valo match for this,” Jake whines. Laying back down, Jake tilts his once abandoned phone towards his face to check the time. “Don' even want to know how much RR I lost for leaving midway.”

This conversation was pointless. The word nothing kept playing in Sunghoon’s mind: nothing had happened, nothing had changed regarding his relationship with Y/N, and nothing was making it directly to Sunghoon’s anxiety riddled mind to assuage his stress. Maybe Jake’s glasses really weren’t recording their conversation. “Hey, come on man. Seriously, how’d it go?”

Apologizing, Sunghoon massages the crease on his forehead that had somehow grown between his eyebrows. He clears his throat a few times before dropping his voice to a near-whisper, still mildly paranoid the room was wiretapped: “The confession had gone like this…”

—

“Welcome back - I hope the traffic wasn't too bad,” Y/N teased, holding the door open. Sunghoon had made a mad dash up the stairwell—the elevator would have been far too slow for his impatient heart, which was beating ten times faster than ever before—as soon as he received the text. Knowing that the “door was always open for him” made him giddier than a soldier (he was too young for mandatory service) reuniting with his wife (neither person had made it out of the friendzone yet) after five years of active duty (more like five minutes).

In between breaths, he responded with “Calm five story—” a wheeze, “sprint, nothing a five minute—” gasp “session on the pseudo-StairMaster couldn’t beat, baby. Did you know your rent actually accounts for two gyms instead of one? Haha.” Doubling over as a few more coughs bubbled in his throat, Sunghoon awkwardly waddled out of the doorway and toward the kitchen to fix himself a mug of water.

("I'm staking a claim on this mug," Sunghoon declared, holding a hand-painted ceramic mug. Littered with doodles and plenty of stars, the mug was YN's magnum opus—in Sunghoon's eyes—and was created during a spontaneous afternoon trip out.

"It's all yours, dude, no one's gonna take that."

"Good, it's mine.")

Y/N, having witnessed Sunghoon’s anguish, rubbed soothing circles onto his back. “Thought I made you nervous, Hoon. You’re still using that nickname?”

Sunghoon gulped, shooting up. All of the energy and vigor suddenly rushed into his body. Maybe it was also fear—so much for trying to show off his insane athleticism. Was it bad that he hadn’t visited the rink in a while? Maybe he could use some more training. Would Y/N like someone that could do pirouettes on the ice and on concrete? Is it too late to start his training arc? “Why, why? Can I not call you that?” Simultaneously setting the mug in his hand down, he slightly tilted his head as genuine concern and confusion laced his voice.

Was he being too overbearing by flirting? He was toeing the line between affectionate and platonic with that name—sometimes he’d similarly call Jay “babe” or “baby,” but that was never in a romantic light. Not like how he meant it now.

“No, I like it when you call me that,” Y/N responded absolutely. Her smugness mirrored Sunghoon’s energy over text; nothing beats the confidence that iMessage Sunghoon magically had. Ironically, the strong persona he put on through text was far from reality. “Oh, but that reminds me. What did you want to tell me?” The dreaded question had finally come out. Thank you, autocorrect and predictive speech, for carrying Park Sunghoon so far through life until now.

Sunghoon began to walk towards the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room, staring at the view ahead of him. A perfectly lit view of the Han River and Nam Mountain Village: a stunning view courtesy of Y/N’s constant hard work and effort, which Sunghoon had always admired for all the years he had known her.

What a good life she had made for herself. How could Sunghoon ever fit into the perfect, idyllic life Y/N forged by hand? There was no way she could reciprocate his affections when her entire life was ahead of her, not when he was too worried to let the realities of his feelings leave his mind.

“Come here,” he beckoned.

The slight smile that remained Y/N’s face as she walked toward him left him dazed; this noncommittal facial expression, endearing despite its lack of real emotion, left little to assuage Sunghoon’s beating heart. “This is a nice view,” she acknowledged, eyes swimming through the ocean of lights and windows ahead of her. Turning to face Sunghoon, Y/N’s smile widened: “but it would be much nicer if you could tell me what's on your mind.”

If only it was that easy. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue: “I’m in love with you. Can I be your boyfriend?” Even simpler, he could’ve just asked “Will you be mine?”

Instead, fear got to the best of him. Sure, they had adopted a child together—a stuffed animal he had picked up in Japan, yes, but it was a child nonetheless. Y/N’s infectious grins and the kiss on the cheek he received that day begged to differ—but did that necessarily mean they had to be together?

Mentally calculating the cost of rabbit child support, Sunghoon decided that it was best to keep this confession conversation for another day. Is being an absentee plushie-dad really that horrible? Perhaps the safety net of being on iMessage really emboldened him too much (Heeseung would probably argue that this was one of the consequences of the industrial revolution).

“I just,” he frowns. “I’m um. Just thinking about how cheesy that drama you made me watch was. Seriously, baby, I don’t know how you sit through all of that fluff.”

“That’s what you ran up the stairwell for?” Y/N laughs. Sunghoon swears the lights in the apartment twinkled. Were the lights capable of syncing to music? “Well, I think you could’ve texted me this. Or we could’ve called. But I’m glad that you shared this information with me.” Is it possible to record someone’s voice and store it on Apple's podcast app forever?

If Jake was around, he definitely would be calling Sunghoon a coward: a traitorous coward who didn’t deserve to be part of his Fortnite Squad nor his Overwatch 5 stack. Maybe Sunghoon had hyped up his confession too much.

It would probably be a good idea to invite Jake over later tonight to rant.

“I guess so,” Sunghoon sighs—why was he so scared? It’s not like it was difficult to talk to his best friend. “I was just thinking about you so much that it transcended the bounds of iMessage. Can you blame me?” Where did this sudden courage come from? Feeling bold, he takes a few small steps and wraps his arms around the waist of the woman in front of him. Fuck being an absentee father; this was where he belonged. Still swimming off of the high of Jake-may-kick-me-off-his-roster-if-I-totally-fumble, Sunghoon leans over and mumbles “For you I’ll sprint up and down your real life StairMaster thirty times if I have to” directly into Y/N’s ear.

“I know you would—but only if I prepare water in your favorite mug ahead of time, though, right?”

Okay, maybe Jake Sim will beat his ass after this rollercoaster of emotions dies down, but at least he’s winning now. It’s all about tenses: Future Housewife Sunghoon - 0, Current Breadwinner Sunghoon - 1.

“You know me so well.”

—

“Bruh.”

“You really had to code-switch to your Australian accent for that?” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, uncharacteristically whining at his friend. “‘Bruh’ to you too, man. The confession wasn’t that bad, I promise!”

Laughter bubbles in Jake’s chest, breaking free between each syllable: “What confession? Buddy, you didn’t even tell her how you felt! You just told her her C-Dramas are cringe and that you’re a wannabe gym bro!” And fuck StairMaster.

“Well, I was getting there!” Nevermind the fact that Sunghoon’s “been getting there” for the last decade; progress is still progress. “And, for the record, I thought Hidden Love was good! I swear! I’m literally team Jia Xu!”

Jake continues to giggle, flipping over his phone to read the time again, “whatever, man. I believe you. Regardless, I’m gonna go to bed now—holy shit, how is it already 5 in the morning?”

Plush rabbits, Chinese romance shows, and Sim Jaeyun’s unadulterated hatred could wait. Sunghoon’s urge to kick his feet and scream into a pillow could not.

—

And maybe the fact that he was due to meet up with Y/N couldn't wait either.

do answer (future park yn) now

hii where are you :3

dont tell me there's traffic wherever u are bro its 11am

You

Mahbe there's a bit of congestion n

Naybe*

MAYBE* Congestiin* IM OMW

STAY PUT IMSORRY

do answer (future park yn)

Park Sunghoon I Will Have Your Head Roasted On A Spit

oki ^.^ (with malice)

You

I’m driving with Do Not Disturb While Driving turned on. I’ll see your message when I get where I’m going. (I’m not receiving notifications. If this is urgent, reply “urgent” to send a notification through with your original message.)

do answer (future park yn)

URGENT

fuck you

Jk drive safe :P

To be fair, in all of his years of living, Sunghoon never once claimed that the P in Park Sunghoon stood for Punctual. (But, as drunken Sunghoon once argued: the A in Sunghoon does stand for Always on time!).

Sure, maybe he should've taken the Metro; maybe he should’ve walked; maybe he should’ve done anything but trust himself to freeball a schedule without having a means of accountability, but he was still just Sunghoon doing as Sunghoon does.

Despite the idea of always being late to functions most likely accumulating into karmic retribution or another ramification in some form, Sunghoon was able to instantly find parking. It only took a few overly wide right turns and a couple illegal merges—the G in Sunghoon stood for “good-ish” driver—for him to make it to the parking lot of the Starfield Coex.

Chronic lateness may be a trend for me, the voice in Sunghoon’s head reasoned, but at least I’m not absent. This is for you, D.Va. (Yes, he named his rabbit daughter D.Va after the greatest Overwatch tank character of all time. D.Va’s mother did not agree with this decision.)

—