Work Text:
Wonwoo really should’ve heeded his mother’s advice and learned to cook something.
His room is dark, illuminated only by the glow of multi-colored lights from his CPU and the bluish tint of his monitor screen. After a long and arduous round of gaming, Wonwoo collapses on the bed and stares at the ceiling.
Then comes the unmistakable sensation of his stomach growling.
Now, Wonwoo could do the smart thing and walk to the nearby CU for some instant ramyeon and triangle gimbap. It would give him that small boost of confidence that he at least learned something about smart financial decision-making, plus the extra health care benefit of taking a walk in the cool Seoul air.
Instead, Wonwoo pulls out his phone and orders some fried chicken.
Because at the end of the day, Wonwoo is really just a tired college kid who allows himself to fuck up once in a while.
When the food arrives, Wonwoo stops mid-game and pads to the door at the end of the hall. He muffles a curse under his breath when he trips over his shoes, opening the door while hopping on his good foot.
“Delivery for Jeon Wonwoo-ssi?”
Wonwoo nods and looks up, and he blinks in surprise.
His delivery driver looks young. A bit taller than him, with a mess of curls on his head, and a toothy grin that matches the mild lisp he heard earlier.
“Thank you,” he says with a bow, taking the fried chicken from the delivery driver’s outstretched hand.
“Have a good night,” the delivery driver responds with a cheery wave. He saunters down the hall, a faint whistle in the air.
For some reason, Wonwoo closes the door with a small smile on his face, the smell of fresh fried chicken filling the apartment.
-
In a span of a week, Wonwoo orders fried chicken again.
He wasn’t gaming this time – midterms have fallen upon the university, and Wonwoo is up late attempting to finish part of a program for his project. As much as he enjoys coding programs, he has come to the point in the night where the lines are swimming in his brain – and there’s really only so much his glasses can do to compensate for the exhaustion blurring his vision.
Fried chicken felt like a reward.
He hears a tap on the door, and he pushes himself away from his desk. He stumbles through the hallway and rubs his eyes, opening the door with a yawn on his face.
“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi?”
Wonwoo pauses, the way his name was spoken giving him a sense of déjà vu. He stares sleepily at the delivery driver in front of him.
Ah, the same delivery driver as last time. Still with the same toothy grin, the mess of curls, but this time looking similarly exhausted as Wonwoo. The driver hands him the bag with a small bow.
“Midterms?” the driver asks with a knowing smile.
“Unfortunately.” Wonwoo sighs and bows back. “Thank you.”
“Have a good night,” the driver responds. He turns to walk away, but at the last second, he turns to look at Wonwoo who was just closing the door. “Get some rest.”
Wonwoo blinks again, surprised to find himself nodding. “You, too.”
The faint whistle echoes in Wonwoo’s mind as he takes the bite of fried chicken and groans in satisfaction.
That night, he dreams of cheshire cats with toothy smiles, appearing and disappearing between boxes of fried chicken and pages of codes.
-
The third time he orders fried chicken a few days later, Wonwoo is quite drunk.
Soonyoung is curled up on Wonwoo’s bed, successfully squeezing Jihoon against him despite the latter’s disgruntled expression. At this point, Wonwoo couldn’t tell if Jihoon’s face is flushed because of the alcohol or the nearness of Soonyoung – he’ll remind himself to ask later.
If he remembers.
And for all the craziness that Junhui displays when he’s sober, he is quite still when he is inebriated – staring out the window with a thoughtful gaze. It reminds Wonwoo of when they first met and Wonwoo had the hugest crush on him, but it mostly dissipated after the four of them continued to hang out after their shared English and Literature classes.
This moment is the perfect picture of their four-year friendship. The only thing that would make it better is –
“Fried chicken,” Wonwoo says excitedly when he hears the knocks on the door. He giddily jumps up from his computer chair, amidst Jihoon’s protests and Soonyoung’s giggles, Junhui’s poetic commentary about the Seoul skyline and the faint music playing from Wonwoo’s speakers.
When Wonwoo opens the door, he can’t help the big smile on his face when he realizes who it is.
“Sounds lively in there, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.” The delivery driver is wearing a cap this time, holding two packages of fried chicken. “I assume midterms went well?”
“My friends are here. We always celebrate after midterms,” he explains, taking the packages gratefully and taking a whiff of the freshly cooked goods in front of him. He cocks his head slightly when he looks at the driver. “How’d your midterms go? And, do you ever have a night off?”
“I have to pay for food somehow.” The driver grins roguishly, and Wonwoo feels the tips of his ears heat up.
He can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, but he must’ve forgotten how cute the delivery driver was until now.
“What’s taking so long?” Soonyoung whines, jumping on Wonwoo’s back with a huff. Wonwoo yelps in surprise and lunges forward.
A warm hand grabs onto Wonwoo’s shoulder, the other catching the packages in Wonwoo’s hands.
The delivery driver straightens Wonwoo and Soonyoung up, a bark of a laugh escaping his lips when Soonyoung lights up and introduces himself drunkenly to him. “Come join us, driver-ssi,” Soonyoung exclaims. “What’s your name?”
“Ah, I wish I could,” the driver says smoothly, just as Wonwoo shoots him an apologetic look, “but I have to get back to work. Maybe next time though.”
“You better!” Soonyoung threatens as he grabs the packages from Wonwoo’s hands. “I’ll hold you to it, driver-ssi!”
As Soonyoung prances away, Wonwoo lets out an embarrassed exhale. “You don’t have to,” Wonwoo waves his hands, “he’s not going to remember that tomorrow.”
“You don’t want me to join you, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi?” the driver asks innocently, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Aren’t we friends by now?”
Wonwoo’s cheeks flush pink, causing the driver to laugh and shake his head as he turns to walk away.
“Wait!” Wonwoo yells. The driver turns his head, his eyes slightly wide in amused surprise. “What – what is your name?”
The driver’s eyes sparkle underneath the bill of his cap. “Kim Mingyu. It’s nice to meet you, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.”
“I’ll remember.” Wonwoo beams in all his intoxicated glory. “Join us next time, Kim Mingyu-ssi.”
-
Wonwoo doesn’t remember what happened last night, but fuck, his head hurts.
-
When Wonwoo opens the door to go to the CU, a neat plastic bag sits in front of his doorway. The familiar aroma of hangover stew fills the air.
Wonwoo picks it up, glancing around the empty hallway.
Inside the bag, he sees a note: Special delivery, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi – in neat, tiny handwriting.
And a phone number he doesn’t recognize.
-
When the memories come back to him, stomach full of hangover stew, Wonwoo smiles to himself.
-
wonwoo: Thank you for the stew, Kim Mingyu-ssi. Where’d you order it?
kmg: It’s good to hear from you, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi. I made it myself.
wonwoo: Ah, it was delicious. Thank you. But I’m afraid you’ve ruined me. How am I supposed to order it next time?
kmg: I guess I can just make it for you. Since we’re friends and all. 🙂
-
Wonwoo supposes he doesn’t need to order fried chicken right now, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about it all day.
He practically slides down the empty hallway in his socks. Skidding into a halt in front of his doorway, Wonwoo pulls the door open.
He doesn’t realize he’s beaming until Kim Mingyu cocks his head at him, a matching grin on his face. “Are you celebrating something?” he asks, handing Wonwoo the chicken.
“I don’t think so,” Wonwoo’s brows furrow in confusion, “why?”
“Ah, you were smiling so big,” Mingyu explains. He rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly at Wonwoo. “Thought it was a special occasion.”
“I did finish my project,” Wonwoo hums thoughtfully. “And I got fried chicken. I have a couple of reasons to celebrate.”
“What was your project about?”
Wonwoo usually isn’t a talker, but he doesn’t realize that ten minutes have gone by explaining the project until Mingyu hastily apologizes, phone in his hand with the restaurant’s number blaring on the screen.
“Text me the rest!” Mingyu calls over his shoulder, jogging down the hallway.
Wonwoo waits until Mingyu waves and disappears from sight before shutting the door.
-
kmg: Do I have to wait until you order chicken to know the rest of your project?
wonwoo: Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you really wanted to know.
kmg: Of course I do. I wouldn’t have asked 😁
wonwoo: The rest is actually pretty hard to explain.
kmg: Guess you’re just going to have to show me. Order fried chicken right at the end of my shift.
[a few minutes later]
kmg: Nvm, I’ll just bring the chicken myself. Are you free tomorrow?
wonwoo: 👍🏻
-
Wonwoo examines his room, blinking thoughtfully.
He wasn’t sure why he suddenly had the urge to clean up, but he did. He picked up all his dirty clothes and shoved them into a hamper that he hid in his closet. He threw away all the empty cans of energy drinks and soiled packages of instant ramyeon that littered his desk, and he even wiped it down with a clean cloth for good measure. He even had a burst of energy to clean the bathroom, and luckily, the barely used kitchen only had a few dishes in the sink.
Now, the room feels strangely presentable. Like a decent, regularly functioning college student lives here.
Wonwoo assumes the flutter in his stomach is pride; he doesn’t remember the last time his apartment was this clean.
Kim Mingyu barely gets a chance to knock on the door when Wonwoo opens it. The smell of fried chicken makes his mouth water, but then there’s also a distinct smell of something else that —
“Is that tteokkbokki?” Wonwoo blurts out, looking up at Mingyu. Mingyu shrugs and grins helplessly, holding up both bags of food.
“I figured I’d introduce another food to your diet,” he answers as Wonwoo opens the door wider for him to come in. “I’m beginning to think you live off of fried chicken.”
The tips of Wonwoo’s ears turn red. “I mean,” he says, gesturing vaguely at nothing, “I also eat ramyeon.”
Mingyu laughs, a bright, lively sound that makes Wonwoo’s ears ring pleasantly. “Jeon Wonwoo-ssi, that’s not much better.”
Wonwoo chews on his lower lip, smiling despite Mingyu’s teasing jabs. “I think you’ve delivered enough chicken to just call me Wonwoo.”
“Wonwoo it is, then.” Mingyu smiles back widely. “Shall we eat?”
Because Wonwoo is indeed still a struggling college student, Wonwoo ends up bringing a plate over to his desk and offers Mingyu the more comfortable seat in the room, which is his bed. Mingyu props himself up against the wall, his long legs stretching out with a plate of fried chicken and tteokkbokki on his lap. His seat also provides a perfect view of Wonwoo’s computer screen, and in between bites, Wonwoo shows him how far he’s come along with his project. Mingyu, the perfect audience, hums thoughtfully between bites, asks questions when he’s confused, and even claps at the end when Wonwoo lamely says, “And, uh, that’s it.”
“You’re really smart, hyung,” Mingyu says, adopting the term when Wonwoo mentions in passing that he’s in his senior year. Wonwoo learns that Mingyu is a junior at the same university, but in another department, which is why they’ve never really crossed paths before. “You could definitely win an award for your project.”
Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck, already hot for some reason. “There are still some bugs I have to work through,” he mumbles. “And I definitely would not have made it through without your fried chicken.”
Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, hyung, you need more than fried chicken to win the best thesis.”
“I’m just not the best cook, that’s all.”
“I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
Mingyu’s laughter echoes through the apartment when Wonwoo tells him the story of how he hurt himself cutting an apple.
-
When Soonyoung visits the apartment, he looks at Wonwoo like he grew another head.
Wonwoo frowns. “What?”
“You,” Soonyoung blinks, “you have banchan in your fridge.”
Wonwoo blinks back. “Yeah. Mingyu brought them over yesterday.”
Ever since Wonwoo and Mingyu hung out outside Mingyu delivering him chicken, Mingyu seems to have taken it upon himself to feed Wonwoo. The day before, Mingyu had come over with the side dishes and a container of galbi-jjim, which they shared while doing homework. Mingyu needed a study buddy to hold him accountable, and Wonwoo needed something other than fried chicken. It just made sense.
It was the best galbi-jjim Wonwoo had ever eaten. It shocked him even more when he found out Mingyu made it himself.
“Who’s Mingyu?”
“You know,” Wonwoo waves his hands dismissively, “the fried chicken delivery guy.”
Soonyoung’s eyes widen, glinting mischievously in the dim lights of Wonwoo’s apartment. “You mean the hot one from midterms?”
Wonwoo isn’t sure if he’d describe Mingyu as hot. While he is definitely way too handsome to be delivering fried chicken, ‘hot’ doesn’t seem like the word that would fully encompass Mingyu as a person. He’s also thoughtful. Curious. Somewhat endearing, like a puppy. A big, adorable, pretty hot puppy.
Soonyoung gasps theatrically, snapping Wonwoo out of his musing. “Wonu-yah,” Soonyoung exclaims, grinning devilishly in a way that makes Wonwoo’s stomach churn, “do you have a crush on driver-ssi?”
“We’re friends!” Wonwoo says defensively, although he’s not sure why he’s being defensive about it.
“I’m your friend, and I don’t make you banchan.”
Wonwoo snorts. “That says more about you than it does about Mingyu. Why don’t you make me banchan, Soon?”
Soonyoung pauses. “I’ll bring some of eomma’s kimchi next time.”
-
That night, Wonwoo dreams of a golden retriever eating kimchi. The golden retriever licks Wonwoo’s palm, but when he moves to pet it again, it disappears into thin air.
-
“My friends want to meet you,” Mingyu says conversationally, handing over a bag of food while he removes his shoes. He clumsily trips over his last shoe — he has big shoes, Wonwoo thinks — and Wonwoo has to grab onto his elbow so he doesn’t crash against Wonwoo’s coat rack in the hallway.
Mingyu laughs and apologizes, releasing the quick grip he has on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo doesn’t notice Mingyu’s ears turning red; he’s too busy blinking at what Mingyu had said.
“Why?” Wonwoo asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Mingyu hangs his head. He does look like a puppy sometimes, and Wonwoo smothers the grin curling at his lips. “Well,” Mingyu says, his voice unnaturally high-pitched, “ they’rekindofworriedyou’reaserialkillerorsomethingsotheywanttomeetyoubeforeyoukillme – ”
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo cuts in, and Mingyu’s eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. Wonwoo bites back a laugh. “Why do they think I’m a serial killer?”
Mingyu shrugs. “They say I’m a little too friendly for my own good.”
Wonwoo hums. They’re not wrong. After all, Mingyu and Wonwoo became fast friends after delivering Wonwoo fried chicken a few times. Who’s to say that Mingyu doesn’t have friends all over the city who he delivers fried chicken to and makes banchan for?
For some reason, that thought makes Wonwoo feel queasy.
“I’ll meet them,” Wonwoo agrees, shrugging his own shoulders in response. “Why not?”
Mingyu’s face brightens. “Really?” He bounces on the heels of his feet as he moves toward the kitchen, unpacking the food he brought. Considering how much Wonwoo doesn’t cook, he somehow manages to recognize the familiar scent of seollongtang. “You’ll love them, hyung, they’re great –”
Wonwoo laughs, shaking his head fondly while he watches Mingyu talk excitedly about his friends while scooping them heaping bowls of seollongtang and rice.
“Hey, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, before his thoughts stop him. Mingyu hums in response, tilting his head to look at Wonwoo. Wonwoo takes in his bright eyes and big smile, and he couldn’t help but grin in response. “How many serial killers have met your friends?”
“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, and it makes Wonwoo laugh even more. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”
“No.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, nudging Mingyu. “I would’ve killed you by now if I was.”
When they’re settled into their usual spots and Wonwoo picks out a movie for them to watch, Mingyu says, “And hyung, for the record, you’re the first friend I’ve made from making deliveries. Don’t be jealous, okay?”
Wonwoo snorts. “Not jealous, Mingyu.”
Heart thumping in his chest, he starts the movie.
-
eyes of tiger: wait wdym youre meeting his friends?!?!
eyes of tiger: I WANT TO MEET HIM
wonwoo: I mean, you technically did already.
uji: wait, who are we talking about
eyes of tiger: the chicken delivery guy wonu has a crush on
wonwoo: I don’t have a crush on him.
uji: oh the mingoo guy
meow: It sounds like you like him if you’re meeting his friends
wonwoo: They’re just worried that I’m a serial killer
eyes of tiger: WHAT IF THEYRE A GROUP OF SERIAL KILLERS
eyes of tiger: AND THEYRE TRYING TO KILL YOU
uji: for once, i agree with young-ah
uji: we should meet him too
meow: I want to meet him too, he sounds cute
eyes of tiger: BACK OFF HES WONUS
meow: Not fair, you’re just saying that cause you already have Jihoonie
uji left the chat.
eyes of tiger: NOW LOOK WHAT U DID
wonwoo: This would be so much easier if you told him how you felt, Soon.
eyes of tiger left the chat.
meow: Wanna grab boba? My treat
wonwoo: 👍🏻
-
Wonwoo realizes that this is the first time he’s actually been to Mingyu’s apartment. That this is the first time they’ve hung out anywhere outside the four walls of Wonwoo’s apartment, outside the comfort of Wonwoo’s desk chair and Mingyu’s spot on Wonwoo’s bed. Wonwoo fidgets with the ring on his index finger, wondering if he’s overdressed, wondering if this was a bad idea to meet Mingyu’s friends, wondering why he’s so damn nervous –
Mingyu opens the door, and when he sees Wonwoo, his eyes brighten the way they always do. And for some reason, that puts Wonwoo at ease.
Mingyu’s mess of curls actually look a bit more styled, and he’s dressed in a black shirt that accentuates lean, muscled arms and the trimness of his waist. Wonwoo thinks of Soonyoung’s words, describing Mingyu as the hot delivery driver.
He should say something completely unrelated to that thought.
“I didn’t know what to bring, so,” Wonwoo blushes as he holds up a bag of fried chicken.
Mingyu’s nose scrunches in delight. “Don’t worry, I don’t think I brought enough anyway. Come on in.”
Wonwoo shrugs off his leather jacket as he enters, slipping off his shoes and putting them next to the neat row of sneakers at the entryway. Even from here, Wonwoo notices how clean and organized it is, and how effortless Mingyu makes it seem as he takes Wonwoo’s jacket and seamlessly hangs it in the coat closet. The faint sounds of laughter and teasing echo down the hallway from the living room.
“Thanks again for coming,” Mingyu murmurs, grinning sheepishly at Wonwoo.
“Thanks for having me.” As polite as it sounds, Wonwoo means it.
Mingyu giggles and slings an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, and they pad down the hallway towards the living room.
“By the way,” Wonwoo mumbles, “my friends want to meet you, too.”
Mingyu blinks rapidly in surprise, turning to look down at Wonwoo. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I think they got jealous when they found out I was meeting your friends, but you don’t have to –”
“Just tell me when, hyung.” Mingyu winks at him. “Don’t even worry about it.”
Something bubbles in Wonwoo’s chest, and he’s not sure what it is. The apartment suddenly feels warmer, and Wonwoo is suddenly very aware of Mingyu’s arm around his shoulder. Mingyu’s hand moves to squeeze the back of Wonwoo’s neck, before letting go and grinning at his friends.
“Ah, so this is the infamous serial killer,” a boisterous voice says, and for a second, Wonwoo thinks that Soonyoung pranked him and was secretly friends with Mingyu all along.
Turns out, Mingyu just has his own version of Soonyoung – a junior named Seokmin from the Social Sciences department, a guy with a big smile and a flair for the dramatic like Soonyoung. Mingyu also apparently has friends who are even older than Wonwoo, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo – Joshua, he prefers to be called – who just graduated. Rounding out their group is a sophomore, Seungkwan, who is in the Communications department with Mingyu.
Wonwoo finds himself in between Jeonghan and Joshua, curled up on Mingyu’s tiny couch. Seokmin and Seungkwan are duetting an old Korean song from the 90’s (and absolutely demolishing it, Wonwoo thinks with mild jealousy), and Seungcheol is draped on the armchair next to the couch laughing at Seokmin’s and Seungkwan’s improvised interpretative dance. Mingyu comes out with bottles of beer and soju, although it doesn’t escape Wonwoo that there were already a few stray bottles empty littering the coffee table.
“So, Wonwoo-yah,” Jeonghan says, leaning closer to Wonwoo so Wonwoo could hear him, “Mingurie says you buy a lot of fried chicken.”
Wonwoo turns to look at Mingyu, whose cheeks are bright red. “Hyung,” Mingyu whines, moving to slap Jeonghan’s arm. “Wonwoo-hyung, they asked me how we met, so –”
“I do buy a lot of fried chicken,” Wonwoo interrupts, grinning sheepishly. “I don’t know how to cook.”
“Neither does Seungkwan,” Joshua adds, and he and Jeonghan share a cackle when Seungkwan protests over the microphone.
“I’m so jealous though, where does the chicken go?” Seungkwan muses aloud. “I get bloated so quickly after one box of chicken.”
“We can’t all be as handsome as Wonwoo, right, Mingyu-yah?” Jeonghan purrs, patting Mingyu’s leg as he perches on the couch next to him. Mingyu blinks rapidly, before letting out a laugh when Seungkwan shoots them a glare.
“Whatever, it’s annoying that you all are so good-looking anyway,” Seungkwan grumbles, turning back to sing a new song Seokmin picked. When Jeonghan gets up to smother Seungkwan with affection, Mingyu flops next to Wonwoo and hands him a beer. Wonwoo can feel the warmth of Mingyu’s thigh pressed against his, his arm hanging over the couch behind them, and the rumble of Mingyu’s torso as he laughs at his friends.
Wonwoo takes a gulp of beer.
Throughout the night, Mingyu rarely leaves his side. Joshua engages Wonwoo in a conversation about their majors, and Wonwoo learns that Mingyu is double-majoring in business, where he met Joshua and Seungcheol, and communications, where he met Jeonghan and Seungkwan. He learns that Seokmin and Mingyu have been friends for much longer, and that they all came together last year when Mingyu started working at the fried chicken place. Joshua is careful to mention that they’re all quite protective of Mingyu as the glue of their friend group, finessing the line between pleasantries and underlying threats with ease.
Wonwoo isn’t so sure why they’re so worried. After all, he and Mingyu are just friends.
But as he watches Mingyu get up and do a silly dance while singing along with a slightly more intoxicated Seungcheol, he understands why they’d go through great lengths to protect a guy like Mingyu.
-
kmg: Hey, thanks for coming tonight. Did you make it home okay?
wonwoo: Yeah, Joshua just dropped me off. Thanks again for inviting me.
kmg: Anytime, hyung 🙂
wonwoo: You have great friends, Mingyu-yah. They’re really just looking out for you.
wonwoo: It’s too bad I have to kill you the next time you come over.
kmg: 😣 Hyungggggg
wonwoo: 😹
-
“Wonwoo-hyung!”
Wonwoo groans from the bed, his face smushed against the pillow miserably. He can barely breathe from his nose, raw and painful from blowing snot into the mountain of tissues on his desk, and his head is pounding worse than any hangover he’s ever had in his college years. He doesn’t remember how long he’s been sick — all he knows is that death is creeping around him, and Wonwoo wants it to either take him or leave him alone so he feels better.
He doesn’t recall telling Mingyu that he’s been sick, and that makes him feel a bit guilty. They usually text every day, but for the past forty-eight hours, Wonwoo has been radio silent from exhaustion and fatigue. He barely remembers texting his friend group chat that he’s under the weather, so it’s an understatement to say that Wonwoo isn’t sure why Mingyu’s even at his front door at all.
Wonwoo forces himself to get up, wrapping himself in his duvet. He opens the door, covering his mouth and nose with his blanket.
Mingyu looks at him blankly, before shaking his head and grumbling under his breath. “Go back to bed,” he orders.
“But what are you doing here?” Wonwoo asks weakly.
“One of your friends called the restaurant and ordered fried chicken for you. I thought it was weird, so I called him back. He said you were sick, so I’m here delivering fried chicken and other stuff.” Mingyu frowns and places his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders. “Now go back to bed.”
“Min—” Wonwoo barely finishes Mingyu’s name, sneezing into his duvet. Mingyu’s face softens.
“Aigoo,” he murmurs gently. “Come on. I brought porridge.”
Wonwoo is too tired to fight him, so he lets Mingyu usher him back to the apartment. Wonwoo flops on his bed haphazardly, letting out a grunt when his body responds with aches that make him shiver involuntarily. Mingyu almost immediately rolls Wonwoo over so he’s laying on his back, tucking his duvet neatly underneath him and wrapping him up like an egg roll.
Wonwoo hears Mingyu rustle around in the kitchen. Wonwoo tells him where things like cutlery and dinnerware are, but apparently he is so sick that he’s only talking to Mingyu in his head. Luckily, Mingyu’s been around enough times to know his way around Wonwoo’s tiny kitchen, and he returns to Wonwoo’s side with a steaming bowl of porridge.
Wonwoo attempts to sit up, and Mingyu props the pillow up so Wonwoo can sit comfortably. The steam from the porridge soothes Wonwoo’s sinuses, enough for him to croak, “Where’s the fried chicken?”
It startles a laugh out of Mingyu, and the sound alone makes Wonwoo feel a bit better than he did minutes ago.
“Glad to know you’re not too sick to crack a joke.”
“Oh no, I’m very sick.” Wonwoo solemnly shakes his head. “I genuinely want fried chicken.”
“Well, too bad you’re not having any.” Mingyu hands Wonwoo the bowl of porridge.
Wonwoo takes small bites, half-listening to Mingyu chat idly about how his week has gone. Mingyu giggles when he shares a story about Seungkwan completely falling silent when he ran into his crush at the music production studio — “I think his name is Vernon?” — and Wonwoo reminds himself to ask Jihoon next time if he knows anyone by that name. Mingyu also tells Wonwoo that Joshua and Jeonghan are fighting over who gets to be his friend first, and Wonwoo even cracks a smile when Mingyu puffs up his chest to proudly say that it doesn’t matter cause he’s first.
By the time Wonwoo is done, he’s already sleepy. His eyes are dropping shut against his will, but Mingyu laughs and helps him readjust to lay back down.
Wonwoo looks up at Mingyu, stray curls falling over his forehead, his tongue slightly sticking out as he fixes Wonwoo’s pillow and blankets. There’s a small crease on his forehead as he works, and Wonwoo’s eyes trail down to Mingyu’s eyelashes, smooth skin and pinkish cheeks.
“Pretty,” he mumbles.
“Hmm?”
Wonwoo, half-asleep, continues. “Soonyoung described you as hot. But I don’t think it’s the right word. It’s cause you’re pretty, Min…”
Wonwoo doesn’t finish his sentence, soft snores echoing throughout the apartment.
-
kmg: Hope you feel better soon, hyung. There’s more porridge in the fridge.
kmg: Also, last night you kept calling me Min. I think I like it. ☺️
-
wonwoo: So it wasn’t a dream that you came. Thanks for the porridge, Min.
-
“He brought you porridge? ” Junhui asks, mouth agape.
Wonwoo nods his head, tapping his fingers repeatedly on his desk chair. Today, it’s Mingyu’s turn to meet Wonwoo’s friends, and Soonyoung hasn’t stopped vibrating from excitement. And while this would disgruntle Jihoon normally, he looks mildly amused at all the new developments.
“Have we entertained the thought that driver-ssi is madly in love with you?” Junhui muses.
“Obviously,” Jihoon snorts. “They’re already meeting the family.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “We’re just friends. Soonyoung ordered fried chicken for me, and you all aren’t saying he’s in love with me.”
“Well, we know who he’s in love with,” Junhui snickers. Soonyoung rolls over Jihoon to elbow Junhui, who cackles and moves away with ease. Jihoon, cheeks pink, shoves Soonyoung off him, and Wonwoo watches them make a mess of his bed.
A part of him wants to say, That’s Mingyu’s spot, too.
“Getting back to the point,” Soonyoung pants, letting out a breath, “how do you feel about driver-ssi?”
“His name is Mingyu,” Wonwoo says with a huff.
And he doesn’t know what else to say after that.
Wonwoo’s had a handful of crushes in his life. A classmate in sixth grade, a brief one on the girl he asked to prom, and the very attractive male junior who gave his freshman orientation. Oh, and Junhui. They were all quick and easy to get over, small infatuations that didn’t really amount to anything except for a long-lasting friendship with Junhui that Wonwoo is eternally grateful for. Even then, Wonwoo doesn’t even remember really liking anyone. Not like that, anyway. Not the way Soonyoung likes Jihoon. Not the way Jihoon likes Soonyoung.
He just — he enjoys Mingyu’s company. He likes the way they watch movies on his computer. He likes the random pictures Mingyu sends him throughout the day. He likes Mingyu’s friends, and how protective they are of him. He likes Mingyu enough to introduce him to his friends.
That’s all.
Wonwoo shrugs. “He’s a good friend. I think you’ll like him.”
-
Later, when Mingyu arrives with fried chicken, bowls of microwave rice, and homemade pajeon, he and Junhui spend twenty whole minutes talking about authentic Chinese food from Junhui’s hometown. Wonwoo watches the way Mingyu’s eyes brighten at Junhui’s animated words, and the way Mingyu hangs onto every one of them.
Mingyu, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is the only one who laughs at a joke Soonyoung made when he thinks no one else heard him.
Mingyu hands Jihoon an extra bowl of rice when he realizes Jihoon is staring at Wonwoo’s half-full one.
And when everyone leaves, when Soonyoung hugs Wonwoo tightly and whispers that he better be the best man at Wonwoo’s and Mingyu’s wedding, when Junhui and Mingyu exchange numbers to check out the new Chinese restaurant in Gangnam with Mingyu’s friend Myungho, when Jihoon nods his head to acknowledge Mingyu when they part ways —
Wonwoo opens the fridge and sees two containers of banchan, with a note from Mingyu that says: These ones are just for you.
-
So maybe Wonwoo has a crush on Mingyu. A small one. He’ll probably get over it in a week or two.
-
As it turns out, Soonyoung and Seokmin are in the same extra-curricular dance troupe. One minute, he, Junhui and Jihoon have their tickets stamped at the booth, and the next minute, Junhui yells, “ Mingyu!” from across the lobby and drags Wonwoo, who promptly grabs Jihoon, through the crowd.
Even without Junhui’s help, Wonwoo could spot Mingyu from across the room. It’s strange to see Mingyu outside their apartments, and it also doesn’t surprise Wonwoo that Mingyu naturally stands out in a crowd. Wonwoo watches Mingyu laugh at something Seungkwan says, his hand reaching out to grab onto Seungkwan’s shoulder for support, and his lips naturally twitch into a smile before he even realizes what’s happening.
“Jun-hyung!” Mingyu greets with a smile, before his eyes land on Wonwoo and Jihoon trailing behind Junhui. Mingyu’s smile broadens.
Mingyu takes the time to introduce Jihoon and Junhui to the rest of his friend group. Junhui’s eyes light up when he spots one of Mingyu’s friends, who Wonwoo guesses is Myungho, and they immediately launch into a conversation in Chinese. Wonwoo’s heart stammers when Mingyu tells Seungcheol that Jihoon has a stellar exercise routine, a fact Jihoon had shared in passing when they met, and Seungcheol immediately pulls Jihoon into a conversation with him and Joshua to compare.
Mingyu moves to stand next to Wonwoo, his eyes almost as bright as his smile. “What are you guys doing here?” he asks excitedly.
“This is Soonyoung’s dance troupe,” Wonwoo explains. He’s fighting the urge to blush despite having spoken to Mingyu several times before.
“What a small world,” Mingyu chortles, “I should’ve known that Seokmin and Soonyoung run in the same circles.”
“Funny enough, I remember thinking that Seokmin was your version of Soonyoung when I met him.”
The conversation remains easy and hushed, Mingyu leaning over to talk closer to Wonwoo’s ear from all the noise in the lobby. Wonwoo is able to focus for the most part, but ever since he realized he had a small crush on Mingyu, there’s a slight buzz in his brain whenever Mingyu is near – a buzz that remembers things like the scent of Mingyu’s body wash, or the mole on his cheek and on his nose, or the slight lisp when he starts getting excited by what they’re talking about. And that buzz travels throughout Wonwoo’s body like electricity, not enough to feel electrocuted, but enough to feel more awake than he has in a long time.
And to be honest, Wonwoo hasn’t felt that way for anyone before.
When the doors to the auditorium open, Jeonghan suggests they all sit together. Without waiting for a response, Wonwoo watches Junhui loop his arm through Myungho’s, chatting animatedly while Myungho listens with a tiny, attentive smile on his face. Jihoon falls into stride with Seungcheol and Joshua, following them into the auditorium while Jeonghan and Seungkwan trail behind them.
Wonwoo thinks it’s nice – watching his friends fit in seamlessly with Mingyu’s, like they all have been friends for a long time.
When he and Mingyu bring up the rear, Wonwoo is very aware of how Mingyu’s hand gently presses against the small of Wonwoo’s back as he ushers them in.
-
Wonwoo beams when he watches Soonyoung and Seokmin perform onstage. He knows that in another life, they probably would’ve been famous for it.
Somewhere in between clapping loudly, letting out a small whoop while the rest of their friends cheer loudly and obnoxiously for the two onstage, and the lights dimming, Wonwoo lets his hand brush against Mingyu’s fingers on the armrest.
He feels Mingyu’s arm pressed against his for the rest of the performance.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
-
Mingyu disappears somewhere when they leave the auditorium and wait for Seokmin and Soonyoung in the lobby.
“Wonungie,” Jeonghan says, wrapping an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, “what did you think of the show?”
“It was amazing,” Wonwoo replies honestly, his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much. Soonyoung and Seokmin had other performances separately, and then another one together at the end, and for a second, Wonwoo forgets that they’re all tired college students just trying to get through the day. Wonwoo is so immensely proud of his best friend. He would never get tired of watching him dance, ever.
Jeonghan’s smile in response is gentle. “It really was, wasn’t it? Which one was your friend?”
Just as Wonwoo opens the program to point Soonyoung out, a loud screech comes from behind him. Soonyoung clobbers Wonwoo, gangly arms tightening around him and hugging him tightly from behind. “Wonu-yah, you came!” he giggles.
Wonwoo chuckles, patting Soonyoung’s arms wrapped around his waist. “I did, now put me down .”
“Jeonghannie-hyung!” Seokmin squeals, appearing from right behind Soonyoung.
Seokmin and Soonyoung receive congratulations from their friends, exchanging hugs, gushing compliments, and teasing. “Wait,” Soonyoung blinks, noticing how Jihoon is standing between Seungcheol and Joshua, “how do you all know each other?”
“Well, we just met Jihoon today,” Joshua explains with an easy smile, “but we’ve met Wonwoo before.”
“So you’re Mingyu’s friends,” Soonyoung realizes slowly, looking between the two groups with a grin creeping on his face.
“And you’re Wonwoo’s,” Seokmin adds with a matching expression on his face.
Wonwoo visibly reddens. “I don’t know why you all are making this sound so ominous —”
“Dokyeom-ah, Soonyoung-hyung!”
The crowd parts slowly, like those weird montages in a movie, and Mingyu steps through the crowd with two bouquets of flowers. Wonwoo blinks, certain that he didn’t have those before or during the show.
Mingyu hands Seokmin one bouquet and shyly hands Soonyoung the other, a much smaller-looking one that looks a bit wilted. “I’m sorry, hyung, if I had known you were in the show too, I would’ve bought you some when I bought Seokmin’s —”
“Ah, Mingyu, you didn’t have to.” But based on the shine in Soonyoung’s eyes and the tight hug he gives Mingyu, Wonwoo is pretty sure Soonyoung liked it anyway.
Mingyu catches Wonwoo staring, mouth hanging slightly open with an emotion he couldn’t name, and he winks. Like Wonwoo is in on a secret that only they share.
Oh.
Oh, Wonwoo is in trouble, isn’t he?
-
The group cram into a tiny restaurant in Hongdae, with two additional tag-alongs. On the way out, Jihoon runs into Hansol, also known as Vernon, who produced some of the music for the dance troupe. (Mingyu gently elbows Wonwoo and uses his lips to point at Seungkwan, who is bright red and holding onto Joshua very tightly.) Then, they run into another member of the dance troupe, Chan, who was walking alone to his car, and Soonyoung immediately invites him along too.
So, here they are – 13 college students, crammed between three tables, at an unassuming barbecue spot. It’s a bit overwhelming for Wonwoo, with the vast amount of people, smoke clouding his eyes and nose, and pop music in the background. But somehow, he finds himself sitting across Mingyu at the table, and that takes the edge off.
“Gunbae!”
Clinks of beer bottles and glasses of soju fill the air, and Wonwoo feels the cold liquid spill down his throat followed by the warmth of alcohol. He plans on not drinking much tonight, knowing Soonyoung will probably need some help getting home, but the nearness of Mingyu and the growing realization that Wonwoo — well, it at least guarantees another shot later in the evening.
It’s ridiculous, Wonwoo thinks as he quietly observes Mingyu. He orders their food with quick finesse, and he and Jeonghan man the grills effortlessly. Wonwoo’s heart even has the audacity to skip a little when Mingyu puts meat on his plate. And would it be wrong to notice that somehow, his plate is never empty, even when Seungkwan whines for more?
It’s even more ridiculous that Mingyu looks the way he does. Cheeks flushed pink from the heat, his curls falling across his forehead, Mingyu catches Wonwoo’s eye as he stares. His smile widens, flashing his canines at Wonwoo from across the table. Wonwoo can’t help but smile back.
Wonwoo isn’t normally a sentimental person. But seeing his friends interspersed with Mingyu’s, with he and Mingyu in the middle of it all, laughing and enjoying a night out amidst the looming finals, work, and continuous struggle of living life day by day — it’s enough for Wonwoo to wish that the moment would never end.
After too many bottles of alcohol, piles of meat and banchan, the group stands outside the restaurant while Hongdae bustles around them. Soonyoung leans on Wonwoo, warm from drinking and laughing too hard at everything. “Saranghae, Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung slurs with a cheesy grin, tilting his head to look at Wonwoo.
Wonwoo laughs, squeezing Soonyoung. “Aish, you drank too much.”
Soonyoung examines Wonwoo for a moment. “You know,” he says softly, leaning closer to Wonwoo, “it’s okay.”
“What do you mean?”
“To like him. To be liked by him.” Soonyoung’s gaze turns wistful, like he’s looking past Wonwoo. “What a lucky coincidence when those two things are true at the same time.”
Somehow, the last statement doesn’t feel like it’s for Wonwoo. But for now, he holds his best friend close under the blinking lights of the city.
-
kmg: Did you make it home okay? Soonyoung-hyung looked pretty drunk.
wonwoo: Yeah, made it home. Jihoon ended up taking him home.
wonwoo: You?
kmg: I did. Thanks for asking. 😊
kmg: It was cool, seeing all our friends together.
wonwoo: Yeah. Thanks for getting Soonyoung flowers. He really appreciated it.
kmg: Ah, Seokmin trained me well. He gets all pouty if none of us bring him any after a performance.
wonwoo: I didn’t know that was what you’re supposed to do. Soonyoung never said anything.
kmg: It’s always nice to receive flowers. Even when there’s no occasion. I’m glad Soonyoung-hyung liked his. 😀
kmg: Rest well, hyung.
wonwoo: Hypothetically [deletes message]
wonwoo: What kind of flowers do you [deletes message]
wonwoo: Goodnight, Mingyu.
-
As finals approach, the days get busier. Wonwoo gets lost in pages of code, cans of Monster, and other requirements that feel like mountains instead of molehills.
Yet, he finds himself going back to Mingyu.
Mingyu, despite his own busy schedule, drops off banchan at Wonwoo’s on Sunday nights. It’s become a routine; Mingyu fills Wonwoo’s fridge with some things to eat for the week (“You really need your vegetables, hyung!”) and they watch a movie on their growing list. It’s the one reprieve they both get in the midst of their hectic schedules, and Wonwoo carves the time out like it’s sacred.
Soonyoung’s words echo in his mind when it’s inconvenient. It’s okay, you know. To like him. And be liked by him.
It’s been almost a month since his discovery of his feelings for Mingyu, and they haven’t dissipated. If anything, they’ve bloomed into something that burrows itself deeply in Wonwoo’s chest, bursting into warmth whenever he sees Mingyu on a Sunday night or when Mingyu randomly texts him throughout the week, albeit a bit less due to the coming end of the semester.
And really, what a weird time to start understanding Soonyoung’s plight. Because how is he supposed to tell Mingyu how he feels? How is he supposed to know if Mingyu reciprocates his feelings? Even if Soonyoung said so, he never brought it up again – and how would Soonyoung know anyway, if he doesn’t even see what’s right in front of him?
Surprisingly, the answer comes in the form of Seungcheol.
As Wonwoo exits the GS25 near his apartment, he spots Seungcheol walking down the road towards the same convenience store. Wonwoo blinks, squinting his eyes to recognize the familiar flop of Seungcheol’s hair and the gummy smile Seungcheol gives him when he realizes who Wonwoo is. “Wonwoo!” Seungcheol greets, pulling out his hand from his pocket to wave at Wonwoo.
“Hey, Seungcheol-ssi,” Wonwoo responds with a short bow. Seungcheol rolls his eyes and pulls Wonwoo into a side hug.
“Please. Hyung is fine.” Seungcheol eyes the bag in Wonwoo’s hand. “Buldak and Monster?”
Wonwoo grins sheepishly. “A staple for finals. I don’t think I have the brains for much else.”
Seungcheol chuckles. “Well, sounds like you need a break. Come eat with me.”
They end up walking past the convenience store towards a nearby hole-in-the-wall restaurant selling mandu and kalguksu. Seungcheol tells him that when his internet was out for some time, he found the restaurant on the way home from a gaming café. Wonwoo discovers that Seungcheol likes League of Legends just as much as he does, and they sit in front of steaming bowls of kalguksu talking about their favorite games.
“None of them ever want to play with me,” Seungcheol complains after a slurp of noodles.
“Maybe we could play sometime,” Wonwoo offers, grinning when Seungcheol’s gummy smile emerges. “Jihoon isn’t too bad at it, but don’t ever play with Soonyoung. It won’t end well.”
“Maybe we should put Jeonghan and Soonyoung on the same team.”
“I’m not sure the server could handle it,” Wonwoo muses bluntly, and Seungcheol nearly snorts into his noodles.
“Mingyu was right about you,” Seungcheol says with a laugh and a shake of his head.
The familiar heat spreads through his cheeks at the mention of Mingyu. Wonwoo clears his throat. “What do you mean?”
Seungcheol eyes him with a knowing glint, and somehow Wonwoo feels very exposed. “He says you’re funny. And that it makes you charming.”
Wonwoo shrugs, although he’s sure it comes out looking jerky instead of nonchalant. “I’m sure he has something nice to say about everybody.”
The truth hits deeper than he expects, and voicing it sends a wave of relief and anxiety through him. It’s a little unexpected that it’s Seungcheol he opens up to, but there’s something about him that makes it easy. Kind of like Mingyu. It makes sense why they’re friends.
“He does,” Seungcheol nods, and they’re silent for a moment, “but I have to say, Wonwoo, he has a lot of nice things to say about you.”
Wonwoo looks up at him, and his smile this time is gentler. Wonwoo exhales, a small smile on his face. “Isn’t he just too good sometimes?” he blurts out, and every part of him warms up like he’s said too much.
Seungcheol doesn’t laugh. Instead, he leans forward like he’s telling Wonwoo a secret. And in some ways, it feels like the secret to the universe. “Sometimes, we deserve good things,” he says, “and how we deserve it is based on how we plan on keeping the good thing when we have it.”
For some reason, that makes a lump form in Wonwoo’s throat. His chest feels like it’s about to burst. “Like getting flowers, even when there’s no occasion.”
Seungcheol winks. “Exactly. I wonder where you learned that from.”
-
wonwoo: I need your help.
wonwoo: Specifically, I need Seokmin’s help.
eyes of tiger: ASKSKDLDKJAJAJAKAK
eyes of tiger: SAY LESS
-
eyes of tiger: OPERATION MINWON IS A GO!!!!!!!
wonwoo: Why are you like this, Soonyoung?
eyes of tiger: bc u love me, unconditionally
seok✌🏽: YAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!
[han was added to the chat]
[joshuji was added to the chat]
[uji was added to the chat]
[cheollie was added to the chat]
[meow was added to the chat]
[kwan loves volleyball was added to the chat]
wonwoo: Soonyoung, ISTG
eyes of tiger: OPERATION MINWON IS A GO!!!!!!
cheollie: why didn’t you just add wonwoo to the operation minwon group chat?
wonwoo: THERE’S A GROUP CHAT?
kwan loves volleyball: Nonie is going to feel very left out by this
kwan loves volleyball: He’s v invested
wonwoo left the chat.
-
wonwoo was added to OPERATION MINWON 🐶🐱
members:
eyes of tiger (admin)
seok✌🏽 (admin)
uji
meow
hannie
joshuji
hao ♾️
cheollie
kwan loves volleyball
Vernon
Lee Chan
wonwoo
-
joshuji: our baby is finally growing up!
han: go get him, tiger
eyes of tiger: jeonghan-hyung, ik ur new here but im kaljfkjkaldfklsaf
meow: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
meow: jihoonie smothered him
-
On particularly long days, Mingyu feels the exhaustion deep in his bones. Between the requirements for both majors, his job, and maintaining a semblance of a social life with his friends, Mingyu wants nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep until morning.
Lately though, he wants nothing more than to head to Wonwoo’s and watch a movie. To have Wonwoo sit next to him on the bed, tuck their fingers together, and lean his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder while Wonwoo unintentionally spoils the movie from talking too much when he’s excited.
It’s hard for Mingyu to tell where they stand, to tell if Wonwoo feels the same way. To navigate the difference between Mingyu’s delusions and Wonwoo’s actual feelings. Despite whatever his friends say, Mingyu won’t believe it until he hears it from Wonwoo himself. (As much as he wants to believe it – and he very, very much wants to believe it.)
Yah, Mingyu really likes him. It was one thing that he was one of the most handsome people he’s ever seen; Mingyu will never forget the first time he saw Wonwoo open the door to his apartment with his fox-like stare, hair drooping across his eyes, with sweater paws grabbing the kitchen from Mingyu’s hands. But the more he got to know Wonwoo, the more he was able to bring a smile or even a deep belly laugh that made Wonwoo clap his hands together, Mingyu was a goner. He wants nothing more than to be the person that makes Jeon Wonwoo smile like that, all the time.
He would be fine being just friends with him. He’d much rather be in his life than out of it. He doesn’t even know if Wonwoo likes men that way, despite Seungkwan’s insistence that his gaydar is never wrong (and that he didn’t even need it, based on the way Wonwoo looks at him). Either way, Mingyu is happy with where he stands with Wonwoo, even if he likes him more and more every day.
Wonwoo hasn’t ordered chicken in a while, Mingyu muses as he slowly climbs the stairs to his apartment. Maybe Mingyu should make him a delivery soon.
Mingyu whistles to himself as he walks into his apartment, removing his shoes neatly by the door and hanging his backpack and keys on their respective hooks by the entryway. He seamlessly adjusts the picture frame that often gets crooked from the door opening and slamming shut, making his way toward the fridge to heat up some leftover galbi-jjim.
When he opens the fridge, he pulls out the container on the left. Another container filled with galbi-jjim, on the right, is reserved for movie night with Wonwoo tomorrow – two days later, when the flavors settle deeper into the meat. Wonwoo probably wouldn’t even save enough for the next day.
Pleased, Mingyu shuts the fridge.
Just as he’s finished setting the table for his dinner, Mingyu hears a knock on the door. He groans; if Seokmin ambushes him one more time –
“Delivery for Kim Mingyu-ssi?”
Mingyu blinks when he opens the door. He must be very tired.
Wonwoo stands in front of him, dressed similarly to what he was wearing during the concert (that Mingyu had to forcibly stop himself from swooning over). A loose cardigan drapes over Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, dropping naturally down to his tiny waist (Mingyu’s eyes nearly bulge when he sees how far the belt is looped around it).
But most importantly, in his hand, is a bouquet of white roses.
His eomma’s favorite. His favorite.
He inhales sharply. “Hyung,” he says slowly.
Wonwoo’s eyes widen underneath his glasses. “Listen,” he waves his free hand, “if I got this all wrong, we can pretend like it never happened, and we can just be friends. I’m okay with that. But I need to tell you something, and if I don’t say it, I think I’m going to explode.”
Mingyu blinks rapidly. Is this – is this happening?
“I don’t know how it happened, but I – you’ve been the best part of this semester. At first, I thought it was the chicken. You guys make really good fried chicken. But then you started coming over, and it felt like we’ve been friends forever, as long as I’ve been friends with Soonyoung – don’t tell him that, he won’t let me hear the end of it.”
Mingyu chuckles breathlessly. How is Wonwoo so cute when he rambles?
“I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “Mingyu, I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t know if it matters. A wise person told me that we deserve good things, too. And I think if I allow myself this, I truly think we could be a good thing.”
Mingyu’s heart slams against his ribcage. Wonwoo looks at him so earnestly, everything else in the world seems to stop. His words echo in Mingyu’s ears, in that deep, rumbling baritone, and everything in him is hanging onto every word.
“I like you, Kim Mingyu. You are – endless sunshine.” Wonwoo’s cheeks turn pink. “And you make everything in me bloom.”
He stretches out his hand, and the roses seem even brighter in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Mingyu clutches it tightly with one hand, reaching for the world with the other.
-
kmg was added to OPERATION MINWON 🐶🐱
eyes of tiger: SEOKMIN DID U DO THIS
eyes of tiger: HELLO?????
eyes of tiger: ABORT EVERYONE ABORT
eyes of tiger left the chat.
wonwoo: [attached file]
[Photo: Wonwoo and Mingyu, with flowers between them. Wonwoo is holding a thumbs up. Mingyu’s eyes are shiny, looking at Wonwoo.]
seok✌🏽: AHHHHHHHH
cheollie: 😊
kwan loves volleyball: 🤢
kwan loves volleyball: JK AHHHHHHHH
uji: i’m not adding soonyoung back to the group chat
Lee Chan: CONGRATULATIONS, HYUNGS!
Lee Chan: honestly I don’t know why I was added to this gc but CONGRATULATIONS
Vernon: 🫶
han: joshuji u owe me 50k won
joshuji: nope, still think you cheated
joshuji: hi mingyuuuuu 😊
hao ♾️: Gyu, are you crying in the pic?
kmg: This is the best day of my life 😭😭😭
-
“Hyung!”
Mingyu bursts through the door of Wonwoo’s apartment, his arms flailing in the air. Wonwoo looks up from the computer, raising an amused eyebrow.
“Hyung,” Mingyu repeats breathlessly, gesturing for Wonwoo to come to the door after he drops the fried chicken by the doorway, “come onnnnn!”
Wonwoo chuckles, but he types a quick ‘brb’ to the chat and stands up. “Did you take the stairs or something?”
“Maybe,” Mingyu shrugs hurriedly, “that’s not the point. Hurry!”
Wonwoo pads down the hallway, shaking his head. “Seungcheol-hyung is waiting; what’s going on?”
“Is Cheol-hyung more important than the person you like?” Mingyu asks with a huff, outstretching his hand to grab Wonwoo. “Just because he plays LoL with you doesn’t mean he likes you as much as I do!”
Wonwoo laughs as Mingyu instructs him to put on his shoes, lacing their fingers together as he drags Wonwoo down the hallway. Mingyu trots down the stairs, skipping a few as he jumps over them, and Wonwoo tries his best to follow suit. “Nobody’s in danger, right?”
“No, everyone is fine,” Mingyu says over his shoulder. “Just – come see!”
Light spills out onto the pavement when they exit the building. Mingyu turns to Wonwoo with a bright smile, squeezing his hand tightly.
Wonwoo watches the first snow of the season fall into Mingyu’s curls, his own lips curving into a soft smile. Somehow, even in the dusk, Mingyu still looks beautiful – cheeks pink from running up and down the stairs, and now the cold, eyes shimmering, and hands warm against Wonwoo’s.
“Did you really make me leave my game for the first snow?” Wonwoo teases, moving closer to Mingyu. “I already confessed my feelings for you, Min.”
“Yeah, but this still means that because we watched it together, we’ll have a long-lasting relationship.” Mingyu nudges Wonwoo with his shoulder. “This is important, you know.”
“I was planning on having a long-lasting relationship with you, anyway.” Wonwoo grins as he watches Mingyu’s eyes blink rapidly back at him. It’s one of his favorite things to do, stunning Mingyu into silence until Mingyu lets out a small whine and buries his face into Wonwoo’s hair, just like he does now.
“I didn’t think you’d be such a romantic, hyung,” Mingyu mumbles against Wonwoo’s ear. His arms move to wrap around Wonwoo’s waist, pulling him closer. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
Wonwoo chuckles, his own arms wrapping around Mingyu’s frame. “Good. I’ll keep surprising you, then.”
Wonwoo doesn’t think he could ever get used to kissing Kim Mingyu. Mingyu’s hand immediately reaches up to cup Wonwoo’s cheek, his lips brushing against Wonwoo’s for permission. Wonwoo deepens the kiss with a gentle tug on Mingyu’s waist. Mingyu’s lips are warm and pliant, radiating affection that moves all the way to Wonwoo’s chest, and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to keep kissing Mingyu for as long as he’ll have him.
Mingyu pulls back and smiles, resting his forehead against Wonwoo’s. “What are your plans for winter break?”
Wonwoo shrugs, closing his eyes as he relishes the warmth of Mingyu flush against him. “I don’t know. Maybe go back to Changwon to visit my parents. Will probably drag Soon, Jihoon, and Junhui to come with me. Why?”
“That’s what Soonyoung-hyung thought.” Wonwoo feels Mingyu chuckle, his chest rumbling against Wonwoo’s. “So the hyungs decided to pool some money together to rent a house there for a week, so the rest of us can come see you. Like a retreat of sorts. And I wanted to see if that was okay with you; I know we just started dating –”
Wonwoo interrupts Mingyu with a quick peck on the lips. “I’d like that.” He smiles broadly. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
Mingyu brushes Wonwoo’s hair away from his eyes. “I like you a lot.”
-
That night, with Mingyu curled up next to him, Wonwoo dreams of their group of friends, surrounded by a campfire, their laughs turning into glowing fireflies that float into the sky.