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magicshopaholic · 8 months ago

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Caterpillar (Hoseok x OC)

Summary: Hoseok starts coming to terms with his feelings.

Pairing: Hoseok x OC

Genre: Some angst, some humour, some fluff

Word count: 5.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of parental death, mentions of unhealthy eating habits

A/N: Highly recommended to read Double Take for context, but can be read without as well. Begins about a month after Helping Hands.

Also - I've taken a leap of faith and started the 👾 Discord channel 👾 Here's to a social experiment that can turn out any way you want 🍻

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld @xjoonchildx @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids

Listen to: "100 words" by prateek kuhad

hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Hoseok taps his foot and checks his watch. It’s almost five past seven, meaning it’s almost five minutes late. Turning slightly, he peers into the small doorway of the building, trying to see anything that would indicate how much longer this would take. Then, mercifully, the stained glass door is pushed open and people start filing out one by one.

Sighing in relief, he waits to spot Chaeyoung but as more and more people leave, some walking down the street and some getting into parked cars, his frown deepens when she isn’t one of them. He checks his messages, wondering if his information is incorrect, for nearly the entire yoga class has exited now. He contemplates calling her again but before he can decide, he finally sees her step out, a tote bag hitched on one shoulder and her long hair in a ponytail.

“Chae!” He calls, cringing when a couple of people turn to look. Ducking his head and pulling his cap lower down, he jogs over to where she’s continuing down the pavement, apparently not having heard him. “Chaeyoung,” he repeats at a normal volume, frowning when she still doesn’t turn. “Hey, I’m calling your name,” he tries to say, reaching out and grabbing her arm, when a blinding pain shoots up his face.

“Oh, my God!”

“Oh, my God!” he cries, holding his hands up to his face where his nose feels like it’s been crushed.

“Hoseok?”

He nods and doubles over, his eyes watering slightly, when he feels a pair of small hands steering him by the shoulders and back onto what feels like a bench.

“Oh, God, what are you -” She sounds winded - and terribly confused. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Oh, my God,” he mutters, his voice muffled. He drops his hands to his sides, his eyes squeezed shut. “What did you do? I can’t - I can’t feel -” He groans dramatically. “Is my face broken? Is it my nose? Is there blood?”

“Your face…” Soft fingers gingerly touch the bridge of his nose and Hoseok flinches. “It seems okay.”

“Really? There’s no blood?”

“There’s no blood,” she confirms. “I think you’re okay. Jesus… oppa, what are you doing here? And why would you grab me like that?”

Hoseok opens his eyes tentatively, the initial pain and shock already subsiding, to see Chaeyoung take a seat beside him. “I didn’t grab you. I was just trying to get your attention without being seen,” he explains, lightly touching his nose. “Why did you punch me?”

“Because I thought you were trying to grab me!” she exclaims. “Besides, we just learned it in class so I was already kind of in the zone.”

“You -” He frowns incredulously. “What the hell kind of yoga class was this?”

“I didn’t do yoga. I took a self-defense class,” she explains. “Yoga… wasn’t what I needed today.” She bites her lip apologetically. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he sighs, sitting up straighter and trying to move his face, relieved when it doesn’t hurt too much. “I’m glad you know what to do when someone grabs you, I guess.”

Chaeyoung gives him a small smile before frowning. “Um… so, what are you… I mean…” She shakes her head. “Why didn’t you call?”

Hoseok glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She looks flushed, although whether it’s from her class or accidentally having punched him, he can’t tell. “I did, about two hours ago. You didn’t answer.”

She nods slowly. “Right. My phone’s been on silent for most of the day.” When he doesn’t respond, she continues. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Jimin.”

“So, Sooah.”

“They’re kind of a package deal now.”

“Right.” She gives him the same small smile, almost amused, before it fades. “So… what’s going on?”

“Well…” Hoseok takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. “I was in the neighbourhood and I wanted to see if… you maybe wanted to get a coffee… or a frozen yoghurt or… something. It’s pretty warm out.”

She looks at him a little skeptically and Hoseok wonders if she’s mentally calculating how far both his house and the Big Hit building are from here. For a moment, he’s afraid she’s going to decline but then she nods slowly. “Sure. I could get some frozen yoghurt. In fact, I think I owe you one now,” she adds, and they both chuckle.

Hoseok hesitates, hoping he hasn’t pressured her into this, but when she stands up and holds out a hand for him to take, he sighs inwardly in relief. He takes her hand and stands up as well, feeling his nose throb dully again.

“Oppa,” she says as they begin walking and their hands separate, “why are you limping?”

“Limping?” He straightens up self-consciously. “I’m not limping…”

“Yeah, you were, just now…”

“No, I wasn’t…”

“You know, the nerves in your face don’t affect your ability to walk…”

“Oh, I must have missed the email where you became a doctor…”

—

An hour later, they walk down the street leading up to Chaeyoung’s apartment building, a small tub of frozen yoghurt in each of their hands.

“You know,” says Hoseok, taking a spoonful of his banana yoghurt, “I owe you a bit of an apology.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Growing up, I didn’t take you very seriously,” he begins, rolling his eyes when she nods in agreement. “I don’t know what it was but I just didn’t… I don’t know, I always thought you were just a kid. Like, what did you know? You know?”

“Sure.”

“But,” he continues, “I feel like I misjudged you. Because you told me, back when we all went to Jeju for my parents’ anniversary weekend, that apricots were a good topping on a dessert and I didn’t believe you, but now…” He simply sighs and spoons out a shredded apricot from his yoghurt. “I can’t believe how well these flavours go. I mean, you were really onto something.”

Chaeyoung suppresses a smile and nods. “I really was. You should’ve listened to me.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I can’t believe I wasted fourteen years not knowing how good of a topping apricots are.”

“You know what’s ironic?” she asks, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “After that day, I stopped eating apricots. It was like they sucked all of a sudden. And then when I was, like… seventeen or something, I made this dessert that we used to eat when we were kids that had apricots in it, and I realised what an idiot I’d been.”

“If you listened to thirteen-year-old me’s advice, then, yeah, you were.” He finishes the last of his yoghurt and holds his hand out for her empty cup as well, depositing them both in a passing garbage bin. “But tell me more about this dessert with apricots in it.”

But she shrugs and waves a hand dismissively. “My dad lost the recipe years ago. It was kind of like a mix of a pie and a pudding… the only thing I got right in it were the apricots.” She falls silent.

Hoseok nods but doesn’t prod. He glances at her furtively again, letting her walk a couple of steps ahead of him, observing her general demeanour. Neither Sooah nor Jimin had mentioned anything about a self-defense class; in fact, to Hoseok’s knowledge, she had left behind all high intensity sports and workouts in middle school, joining the dance club in college and taking up yoga after that. He thinks of her flushed cheeks and heavy breathing when she’d exited the class, along with her phone being on silent all day.

It’s always a hard day for her.

“By the way,” says Chaeyoung, turning around and waiting for Hoseok to catch up. “Thanks for this.”

“For what?”

“This. The yoghurt, the walk.” She pauses. “The company.”

Hoseok nods nonchalantly. “Of course. No need to thank me. I had fun. And made a life-changing discovery about apricots,” he adds.

She cracks half a smile before giving him a look. “Hoseok.”

“What?”

“I know you know.”

“Know what?”

She sighs hugely, but doesn’t sound annoyed. “You showed up out of nowhere. Took me out for fro-yo, even after I sort of avoided you all day. So, I know you know. I’m guessing my brother told you?” she asks, looking up at him.

“Told me what?” he asks weakly, but he can tell the game is up. “Alright, fine. Yeah, he - he may have mentioned something,” he admits, looking at his shoes.

“And?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “What did he say?”

Hoseok bites his lip uneasily; her expression is too neutral for him to predict what her reaction will be to his conversation with Chanyeol this morning.

Are you talking to my sister these days?

What? I mean - yeah, I guess. Like, a normal amount? Why - why would you ask if -

Have you talked to her today?

Uh, no. Actually, I texted her this morning but I never heard back.

Yeah, I thought so. She kind of keeps to herself every year around my mom’s birthday. It’s always a hard day for her.

Oh. I’m sorry, man. Are you okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. And so is she, most likely. But if you do happen to talk to her or run into her… I don’t know, just check in on her. If you can.

“He, uh…” He sighs softly. “He said it’s your mom’s birthday. And that I should check in, if I could.”

Chaeyoung nods. “Well, you didn’t need to do that. But, thank you, anyway.”

There’s something odd about the way she says it, and it takes a moment for Hoseok’s wording to click in his mind. “Wait, that’s not why I’m here.”

She raises her eyebrows. “It’s not? You just… wanted to hang out with me?”

He pauses for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, I did,” he answers honestly. “I’ve been away for almost a month. I was hoping we could hang out in person instead of just on text, like we’ve been doing.”

Chaeyoung stops near her building. The corner of her mouth looks like she’s suppressing a smile, but the moment passes and Hoseok isn’t sure if he imagined it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about it.”

She nods slowly and taps the toe of her shoe into the road, her fingers wrapped around the strap of her gym bag. “I don’t really talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” he says. “You don’t have to. But you can… if you want. Whenever you want,” he adds.

“I don’t talk about it… because I don’t have anything to talk about. I don’t remember her at all,” she says after a moment, and her voice wobbles ever so slightly. “Not even her face. Not her voice. Just a stupid dessert with apricots,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “But I still miss her,” she admits, sniffling.

A pang goes through Hoseok’s heart all the way down to his stomach and he presses his toes into the ground to keep from stepping towards her. “You can talk to Chan,” he suggests gently. “He actually does remember her. I know he wouldn’t mind talking to you about her.”

Chaeyoung bites her lip and sniffs, her face contorting. “My dad doesn’t even remember,” she whispers before her voice breaks, and Hoseok wraps his arms around her in a hug.

Hoseok is a crier; it’s no surprise to anyone who knows him well enough, his tendency to cry at anything remotely emotional. This is different, though, he feels, as he tries to silently blink away his tears at the sound of Chaeyoung’s soft, muffled cries against his shoulder. She isn’t sobbing; in fact, he can barely hear her. But he can feel it, her shoulders shaking, her hair brushing against his collarbone, and her arms coming around his waist.

He wishes he could fix it for her, knowing at the same time that he can’t. It’s beyond him, predates him, and the only thing he feels he has any control over right now is rubbing holding Chaeyoung, rubbing her shoulders and letting her cry for as long as she needs.

As it turns out, it doesn’t last much longer. Chaeyoung sniffles one last time and drops her arms from around his waist, gently pulling away.

“M’kay,” she mumbles, wiping her face on her sleeve and stepping back. “I think I ruined your hoodie, though,” she adds, giving him a watery smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” He brushes his thumb across her cheek, feeling wetness on it, no longer nervous about touching her. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. I look really pretty when I cry. Especially right after.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nods seriously. “My face gets all flushed and red. Sometimes when I cry and catch my reflection in the mirror, I really think I could be in a music video or something. After whatever crisis I’m going through ends, of course.”

“In a music video? Just crying really prettily?”

“Yeah. So, you know, if you ever need anyone…” She shrugs exaggeratedly.

Hoseok chuckles, his heart feeling so big and so warm. “I’ll keep that in mind. And you’re pretty even when you don’t cry,” he adds, touching her chin.

She sniffs but smiles, a little knowingly, her eyes still a little red. “Thanks, oppa.” She nudges his hand away in mock-annoyance and their hands fall to their sides, fingers loosely interlinked. In the dark street with only street lamps lighting it, her cheeks darken slightly.

“I should go,” he says.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

He nods. “Say hi to Chan for me.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, looking a little sheepish. “Will do.” After a moment, she licks her lips and Hoseok decides she’s right: she looks radiant. “You can let go of my hand now, oppa,” she adds softly.

Despite the heat that creeps up his neck, he doesn’t feel embarrassed. Slowly dropping her fingers, he nods and steps back. “Goodnight, Chae.”

“Night. Thanks, again.”

“You got it.” He reaches forward and kisses her on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything,” he says, smiling and placing his hands into his pockets.

Chaeyoung nods. “Bye.” She hesitates for a moment but then turns to leave, turning her head every now and then on the way into her apartment building. Hoseok waits until she’s inside, waving at her just as she disappears for the night.

—

Hoseok [12:59] It was Godzilla. I just remembered.

Chaeyoung [13:01] What was Godzilla? Oh wait, yes! How did you remember?

Hoseok [13:03] My first sleepover at your house. I went through my Facebook. Actually, Chan’s Facebook.

Chaeyoung [13:04] You must have gone REALLY far back for that.

Hoseok [13:05] I did. You don’t want to know the horrors I’ve seen. I don’t know why your brother hasn’t deleted any of these old pictures like a normal person.

Chaeyoung [13:06] He’s kind of sentimental that way. Find anything interesting?

Hoseok [13:06] Nothing I’m showing YOU.

Chaeyoung [13:06] Aww, come on!

Hoseok [13:07] There are enough incriminating pictures of me mid-puberty on the internet.

Chaeyoung [13:07] But those are public! This one will be our little secret, I promise. I’ll only tease you about it privately.

Hoseok [13:08] That doesn’t give me a lot of comfort. And besides, who said this picture is of me?

Chaeyoung [13:09] You did?

Hoseok [13:09] Ha. You can’t even begin to imagine what this picture is of.

Chaeyoung [13:10] … I’m wearing braces in it, aren’t I?

Hoseok [13:10] Actually, yeah. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

Chaeyoung [13:11] Ugh. At least tell me, even if you aren;t going to show it to me.

Hoseok [13:12] I should sleep actually. It’s after 3 in the morning.

Chaeyoung [13:12] Don’t you dare. Oppa!

Hoseok [13:13] Goodnight, kiddo.

Chaeyoung [13:13] I hate youuuu.

Hoseok [13:14] Lies. Talk to you tomorrow.

Chaeyoung [13:14] You wish.

Chaeyoung [13:17] Goodnight, Hobi.

—

Something changes after their night of impromptu fro-yo. Talking becomes more frequent, texting becomes like breathing, and goodnights become fonder and more meaningful every day. Chaeyoung finds herself expecting a message from him every time she picks up her phone; when he’s asleep or working or flying, she ends up scrolling through their conversations, feeling involuntary smiles creep onto her face.

She misses Hoseok, she realises eventually, her stomach often churning with the uncertainty and borderline exasperation at herself for feeling ancient, repressed emotions that she thought she’d done away with years ago. Unlike the last time, however, the acts of missing him and thinking about him are coupled with flutters in her stomach, her heart skipping beats and small smiles in the dark - all cemented with the knowledge that this time, he’s missing her, too.

But it won’t do well to be delusional. She’s been down that path before and despite Hoseok’s clearly reciprocated signals, she attempts to keep her speculations at bay. He’s on tour; there’s no telling what it will be like once it’s over and he’s back home.

Except, she can tell, somewhat. Four hours of a Harry Potter marathon where they laughed at the most unfunny jokes, walking around Seoul on a day they both knew was difficult for her, the endless threads of conversation that filled the void when they were apart - these things mattered. They had to.

Chaeyoung lightly bites the edge of her S-pen as her tablet screen goes dark, a new gift from her father and stepmother. She needs to clean her room soon, she notes, when her eyes fall on the plant sitting at the top of her desk. Hoseok had brought it to her almost hesitantly - after walking in on her half-naked, of course. The memory makes her cheeks go hot and she taps her phone to see the last message he’d sent her, about half an hour ago.

Are you home?

A blasé yes was all she’d sent, but the wait was starting to render her incapable of concentrating on anything else. He hasn’t responded to her message but it’s no matter; chances are he’s on his way over.

Hardly a minute later, the doorbell rings. Chaeyoung’s heart leaps as she scrambles off the bed, grabbing a pair of track pants from the edge of her bed before pausing. Turning to the full length mirror, she zeroes in on the barely visible strip of shorts visible from under her oversized T-shirt, followed by bare thighs and legs from there on.

A moment later, she chucks the track pants back onto the bed and skips out of her room, opening the front door.

“Hey,” she says, sounding nonchalant as ever. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok frowns. “What do you mean? I texted you.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.”

He narrows his eyes at her, clearly not buying her reaction. Chaeyoung purses her lips together to hide her growing smile when he shakes his head and produces a shopping bag from behind his back about the size of a small laptop.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says, tilting his head and giving her the bag.

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “Wow. Thanks,” she says, frowning, “but is this really why you’re here?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because my birthday was three days ago.”

Hoseok exhales. “Well, three days ago I was in Australia,” he reminds her, “and coming here is the first - no, second thing I’ve done since I landed in Seoul.”

“What was the first?”

“Getting your gift.”

Chaeyoung struggles to suppress her smile and eventually gives up. “Alright, you may enter,” she allows, stepping aside and grinning when he gently flicks her forehead. “What did you get me?”

“I mean, you can open it. But after I leave,” he adds quickly, grabbing her hand as she starts opening the bag.

“What? Why?”

“Just. If you don’t like it, I prefer to not be here when you find out.”

She scoffs as they go into her room. “Shut up, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Okay, but only the first box.”

“There’s a first box?” Chaeyoung places the bag on her bed and retrieves the item on top, a red box with a lot of fancy design. “Ooh, cupcakes!”

“And not a single one is chocolate,” he says proudly as she opens the box to see three large cupcakes with animated animals painted on them. “This place is great, by the way. Less than twenty-four hours notice but they custom-made it all in time.”

“For J-Hope, I’m sure they did,” she teases, checking a little pink paper inside listing all the ingredients in a loopy font. “Wow, low sugar, gluten-free -“

“And the frosting is yoghurt, not buttercream.”

“… and they all have apricots,” she finishes, biting her lip.

“That’s a coincidence.” But he gives her a bashful smile anyway, which widens when she reaches up and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Do you want to share?” she asks, taking out the first one with the Kung Fu Panda on it in icing.

“Share? No, they’re for you,” he argues, sitting at the small bay window and waving his hand encouragingly. “Go on.”

“I -“ She hesitates, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I’ll end up exceeding my calories for the day.”

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “You’re counting calories? You?” he prods, poking her side playfully. But there’s a note of sternness in his voice.

“Not strictly,” she amends quickly. “Just… they like a certain… aesthetic, at Conde Nast.”

“Aesthetic?”

“Yeah. And they remind you of it if they so much as spot you eating a sandwich at lunch,” she informs him. “Apparently the carbs are not on brand.”

“Who said that to you?” he asks sharply.

“Not to me, to my desk mate. But, come on, you know how it is,” she argues, feeling a little defensive. “You work in entertainment and they don’t let you eat either.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

Chaeyoung sighs at the impasse and falls silent, staring at the cupcakes. They really do look cute; without warning, her stomach rumbles.

“Hey.” He nudges her leg with his foot. “Come on. I’ll share.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re on tour,” she reminds him. “Aren’t you on a fifty calorie a day kind of diet?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. It’s your birthday. Kind of.” He gives her a small smile and a wink. “I can indulge. If you will.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“I’m making you a deal. Plus, I really can’t resist apricots now,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. “Come on, caterpillar, it’s melting.”

She grins and nods. “Alright, fine,” she agrees, secretly thrilled, sitting at the other end of the bay window. It’s a small space, just short of being cramped; in the quiet of the night, it’s almost cosy.

They share the cupcake as they talk about nothing and everything in particular. Hoseok’s tiredness and jet lag is apparent; his eyelids look heavy and there are hints of bags under his eyes. Despite that, he’s as chirpy as ever, telling her all about his tour and asking her about everything she’s done during the last month.

“By the way,” she says after a while, once the cupcake is demolished in a surprisingly short amount of time, “did you just call me caterpillar?”

“Did I?” He frowns for a moment before his forehead clears. “Huh. I guess I did.”

“Yeah. You called me that the other night, too, when you were wasted.”

“Wow, really?” He looks deep in thought. “Why? I don’t remember ever calling you that before.”

“Really?” Chaeyoung asks skeptically. “You don’t remember calling me that every single time you ever saw me for all of third grade? You don’t remember,” she continues as he gasps, evidently just recalling, “saying that I reminded you of a caterpillar appearing out of nowhere?”

“Holy shit,” he chuckles. “I actually did forget that. It kind of did feel like that, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s just great,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and turning away, even when he squeezes her knee. “So glad I brought it up.”

“Hey, no. Come on. I swear I wasn’t thinking about that when I called you caterpillar just now,” he promises. “It just felt like a habit. Honest.”

“Mhm,” she hums, saying no more but turning back to face him. Truth be told, she doesn’t need him to defend himself. He may not remember, but she does. Mostly, she remembers his tone when he used to say it, with derision and irritation at once. It was nothing like it is now, full of affection and humour and fondness.

“I was a jerk. Back then.”

“Yeah, but you’re not anymore,” she admits, resting her head on the window by her side. He smiles in relief and something else, and Chaeyoung’s heart skips a beat. “But to make things even, I’m opening your gift.”

“Ooh, you got me,” he says sarcastically as she climbs off and reaches for the bag on her bed. “Just remember, most places were closing down by the time I went out,” he adds, a hint of nervousness in his voice anyway.

“No way, my standards are going to be super high for this gift now.” She reaches in and pulls out an envelope made of card stock, in a very familiar rose gold colour. “What is… oh, my God!”

“What? Ow!” he exclaims unnecessarily when she slaps his shoulder with the envelope.

“You got me a Sephora gift card?”

“Well, yeah… I didn’t want to buy you something and have you whine over it not being the exact variation you wanted,” he explains feebly, hugging her back when she bends and throws her arms around his neck. “You’re pretty fussy about your skincare and make-up.”

“I am,” she agrees happily, sitting back down in her previous spot and gazing at the gift card. “Wow. This is perfect. Really.”

“I’m glad,” he replies, the relief and amusement apparent on his face. “It’s valid for six months so you and Sooah can make a whole day of it, shopping and stuff.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that will happen,” she says, shaking her head. “Shopping isn’t really Sooah’s thing and ever since she and Jimin got back together, I’ve barely seen her.”

“Yeah, well, they’re making up for about five years of being apart,” he reasons. “It’s going to be a couple months of honeymooning before the drama starts again.”

“Looking forward to that. But I’m not waiting until then,” she says, holding up the gift card. “Even if it means I go solo.”

Hoseok is quiet for a moment. “I can go with you.”

She snorts. “To buy make-up and skincare?”

“Yes. I take very good care of my skin - I could be of some help.”

Something warm and fuzzy spreads through Chaeyoung’s chest. “I’m a very slow shopper.”

“Lucky for you, I have four days before I need to travel again. Including a weekend.”

She bites her lip, wishing her heart would calm down. “Alright. It’s your funeral.”

“I have a lot of opinions when it comes to shopping. It’s your funeral.”

Chaeyoung laughs. “I’ll take that risk,” she says, standing up and walking towards her desk. “Someday you’re going to make some girl super lucky, oppa,” she adds, placing the gift card to stand carefully on top of a neat stack of books, in the position of honour. She nods in satisfaction and turns around to see his smile slightly fading. “What?” she asks, watching him carefully for his reaction.

He takes a deep breath as though about to say something, but at the last second shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m glad you like the gift.”

“I love it,” she says honestly, sitting back down. “In fact, I love it so much that I don’t think I can ask you for the other thing I wanted.”

“Which is?”

She grins. “The super incriminating picture you found on Chanyeol’s Facebook? The one we were talking about last week.”

Hoseok laughs and groans. “That is never seeing the light of day.”

“That’s preteen Hoseok talking,” she insists. “Preteen Hoseok would hate it.”

“Oh, he would.”

She smiles and shrugs. “I was going to use my birthday to see it. But you played it really well.”

“Thank God.” He stifles a yawn and rubs his eyes.

“You look exhausted,” she murmurs. “Do you want to sleep here?”

“I… shouldn’t.” He gives her an apologetic sort of smile. “I need to unpack, and everything. You should get to bed, too,” he adds, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

“Okay.” Chaeyoung stands up as well and follows him out of her room, not really expecting him to take her up on her offer. “Thanks for coming, oppa. And for… everything,” she says, once he’s slipped on his shoes and is about to leave.

“You’re welcome.” He turns around and leans against the doorway, giving her a wide smile. “Did you have fun at your birthday dinner, though?”

She shrugs. “Could’ve been more fun. Promise me you’ll make it next time.”

“Uh-huh, absolutely,” he promises, nodding seriously. “Even if I have to take a private jet just for that.”

“Good.” She reaches up the same time that he steps forward and they hug, more comfortably than she once could’ve ever imagined. “Thank you. Really,” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“Of course, caterpillar,” he answers as they pull away, but stay in the same spot.

Chaeyoung feels the same slight skip in her chest at the new-old nickname. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining it, Hoseok’s hesitation in taking a step back, or his eyes flickering towards her mouth.

You’re Chan’s sister. You’re the one girl on earth I can’t mess with.

He’d said that months ago, also during a visit to her room. But she can’t imagine his feelings are the same as they were then.

His cologne is faint, as though he’d last worn it a while ago, probably before flying out of Australia. The flight from another timezone, mid-tour, after which he’d come home, gone straight to the mall and come over to her place.

His face is definitely closer now, the slight frown on his forehead surely indicating that there’s something he’s wrestling with. Chaeyoung’s toes curl on the bare floor; deciding to help him out, she tilts her head up and kisses her big brother’s best friend.

Challenge accepted.

It’s only for a moment; Chaeyoung pulls away immediately but before she can move more than an inch away, Hoseok steps forward and kisses her again, his lips firmly on hers this time.

Chaeyoung’s eyes flutter shut as everything else disappears. It’s just Hoseok, soft lips, gentle movements, his hand in her hair and his lean, slender frame under her palms. He opens his mouth slowly against hers, as though he has all the time in the world, and she sighs silently.

Super lucky.

They break apart after what feels like minutes, or hours or several days. Hoseok doesn’t move his hand or step back, and Chaeyoung looks up uncertainly to see his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Chaeyoung tries for a moment, again, to suppress her smile but then gives up. It widens when Hoseok slowly meets her eyes, several emotions on his face that she knows they’ll have to deal with later, but regret nowhere visible.

“Goodnight, Hobi,” she murmurs.

He sighs. “Happy birthday, caterpillar,” he replies softly, tilting his head and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

It takes him a moment to step away but he does, his face mildly flushed and his cheeks lifted, despite him not exactly smiling. He gives her a small, meaningful wave before turning around and leaving.

Chaeyoung watches him until he leaves her floor before letting herself smile as wide as her heart wants, exhaling hugely and stepping back into her house. Her phone pings as soon as she enters a room, and the screen glows with a notification from Hoseok.

Heart fluttering embarrassingly fast, she clicks on it.

Hoseok [00:24] [photo] Preteen Hoseok was an idiot. Twenty-six year old Hoseok actually kind of likes it.

The picture loads and Chaeyoung tries to swallow the lump in her throat. A screenshot of a Facebook post, old and grainy, like something taken on a digital camera, three kids sat on a sofa in her parents’ house. Chanyeol was on one side and Chaeyoung on the other, and in between them sat Hoseok, scrawny and skinny with a smile like the sun, one arm around each of the siblings.

She was smiling, too, in the picture, extremely widely despite the braces she always hated. There’s surprise and delight and a myriad of other feelings but the one that stands out to her is the one on Hoseok’s face, for once devoid of annoyance around her.

He didn’t hate her. Not always. Not as much as she thought. Lost in a sea of heartfelt nostalgia, her gaze drops to the caption.

Kang Chanyeol: My two favourite idiots in the world!

A seed of doubt settles into her heart. But a moment later she shakes her head, cropping out the caption and saving the picture to her phone. She crawls into bed and shafts Chanyeol to the recesses of her mind, choosing to keep one night to herself where she thinks about nothing but her first real kiss with Jung Hoseok.

—

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