the reply came faster than hongjoong expected.

seonghwa
i'd really like that. dinner tonight?

he stared at the message for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he even realized it was there. he typed back a quick message in response.

hongjoong
yeah, dinner sounds perfect

he stood in front of his closet for way too long, second-guessing every shirt he pulled out.

it was not a date. more like a rekindling of friendship. he did not want to overdo it, but he did not want to look like he had just rolled out of bed either.

after cycling through four shirts and two different jackets, he finally settled on something soft and simple, something that felt like him.

"you can do this," he said to himself.

——

his hands were shaking by the time he locked the door behind him.

they met at a small restaurant tucked away on a quiet side street in the upper west side, the kind of place that smelled like roasted garlic and freshly baked bread, the lights dim and golden, the tables spaced just enough to make the world feel a little smaller, a little softer.

seonghwa was already waiting when hongjoong arrived, sitting at a table by the window, fingers wrapped around a glass of wine. he looked up the moment hongjoong walked in, and that same smile bloomed across his face, familiar and warm with just a hint of shy.

"hi," hongjoong said, slipping into the seat across from him.

"hi," seonghwa echoed, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

they ordered food and wine, something easy, something they could pick at while they talked, and settled into the quiet hum of being near each other again. the awkwardness faded quickly, like dust shaken from an old sweater. they talked about work, about the books they had been reading, about the strange new york weather. nothing too heavy. nothing too sharp.

but underneath it all, hongjoong could feel it. the weight of what was not being said. the pause between breaths. the ache that had not gone away.

after their food arrived, and seonghwa was halfway through a bite of pasta, hongjoong blurted it out.

"i got accepted."

seonghwa looked up, chewing slowly. "to what?"

"the pastry program. the one we applied to together," hongjoong replied as he stared into his plate of food.

seonghwa's eyes widened just a little, the corners of his lips pulling upward. "you did? that's amazing, joong!"

hongjoong shrugged as he continued staring down at his plate. "i haven't accepted it yet."

"why not?"seonghwa asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowed.

"i don't know." he pushed his food around with his fork, restless. "i guess... i'm scared."

"of what?" seonghwa asked.

hongjoong let out a breath, long and shaky. "you know, of everything. of change. of failing. of leaving what's comfortable. of finally doing something that actually means something to me."

seonghwa was quiet for a moment, then he set his fork down and leaned forward a little, voice soft but steady. "you've wanted this for so long."

"i know. and i got a scholarship."

"and you're good! it's not just something you do, it's... it's part of who you are. it's part of your mother," seonghwa smiled lightly, reaching his hand across the table for hongjoong to hold onto.

hongjoong felt his throat tighten as seonghwa's hand reached across, but against his better judgement, he held on.

"it's okay to be scared," seonghwa continued. "but don't let that stop you from choosing something that makes you feel alive. you deserve that. you always have."

hongjoong blinked quickly, trying not to get teary in the middle of a restaurant. he had not realized how much he needed to hear that, how deeply he had buried that dream under layers of fear and doubt. but hearing it from seonghwa cracked something open inside him.

"okay," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

seonghwa tilted his head. "okay?"

hongjoong looked up and met his gaze, something solid and warm settling in his chest. "i'll do it. i'll accept."

a slow smile spread across seonghwa's face, and for a second, it felt like the past few months had never happened. he felt like they were the same two people in the living room, sitting cross legged as hongjoong pressed 'submit' on his application.

the two sat in silence for a few moments, eating their dinner and taking sips of their wine. they were both enjoying their dinner, enjoying each other's company for the first time in months.

suddenly hongjoong hesitated as he began to think of the evening, words caught somewhere between his chest and throat like they had formed halfway but were too afraid to make it all the way out. the silence between them was not uncomfortable, but it stretched long enough that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, could feel the quiet war happening beneath his skin.

his fingers twitched at his sides. he could feel it, the old instinct, the one that told him to keep a distance. to pull back before he could reach for something soft, something good. he did not know how to invite someone into his space without also bracing for the moment they would leave.

but seonghwa was standing there, still, patient. and that look in his eyes, steady, kind, open, it was undoing him slowly.

just ask, he told himself. just say it.

but what if it's too much?
what if it ruins the calm they had just managed to rebuild?
what if seonghwa says no?
what if he says yes?

hongjoong exhaled, shaky, and then looked up from his plate quickly.

"do you want to..." he started, then faltered, voice barely above a whisper. his heart beat harder, stubborn and scared.

he looked away for a second, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before forcing himself to meet seonghwa's eyes again.

"do you want to... come back to my place?" he asked, a little breathless. "so i can accept the offer before i chicken out?"

seonghwa blinked at him, not in surprise, but in something softer. something that made hongjoong's throat tighten.

"yeah," seonghwa said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "i'd like that."

hongjoong nodded once, quick, before returning to his plate of food.

hongjoong let the silence fall again. this time, it was more certain, more grounded. in that space, something unspoken settled: not a fix, not forgiveness, but hopefully a new beginning.

hongjoong when will you learn...

-vic