Chapter Text
“What do you even look for in a girl?” Seungkwan asks, nagging like the annoying little sister he never wanted.
If you're asking Wonwoo to be honest, he doesn't know what he looks for in a girlfriend. He's never really felt a need to date. It just seems overly complicated when all he wants to do is read books and watch TV in his free time, preferably without all that relationship drama.
Thursday movie nights have become a regular thing in their little group of friends. It's December now, so it means Wonwoo’s apartment smells like peppermint and hot chocolate. Tonight’s playlist is a selection of Christmas movies that they won't pay attention to. Not until next week, at least.
“Does it matter?” Wonwoo snorts, fending off Soonyoung when he tries to occupy space on Wonwoo’s favourite armchair. He narrows his eyes when Seungkwan shoots him an innocent look. “Don't try and set me up with someone.”
“Why not?” This time, it’s Hansol’s turn to be an annoying younger sibling Wonwoo doesn’t need nor want. “You look so lonely.”
“I’m not lonely,” he scoffs, adjusting his glasses. “I’m single, which isn’t the same thing.”
“Let him be,” Jihoon says drily, plopping a piping hot bowl of popcorn into Wonwoo’s lap. “If Wonwoo wants to die old and alone with his twenty cats, it’s his choice.”
Wonwoo scowls, shooting Jihoon a dirty look when she tries to shoot him an innocent smile. He knows they mean well, but Wonwoo's just not interested. It's not that he's not interested in girls, he's just not interested in the dating. He's got his hands full with school, his friend group and Mingyu’s monthly breakups.
Like he's been summoned from the mere thought of him, Mingyu bursts through the front door. His hair is a windswept mess, indicating he had torn through campus to make it to the apartment in time.
“Shit, sorry I'm late. I met up with Minkyung and she – she broke up with me,” Mingyu laments.
Once upon a time, the news of a break up would evoke sympathy from the others currently occupying Wonwoo’s living room. Instead, they all heave a sigh, folding themselves so Mingyu has a straight route towards Wonwoo. Minghao lets out a grunt as his fingers get stepped on, Junhui cooing at her younger boyfriend as she brings his fingers to her lips in a sweet kiss.
The architecture student sheds his coat and sweater, so he's clad in only a thin T-shirt and jeans when he finally decides to plop down by Wonwoo's feet. Mingyu whines wordlessly into Wonwoo's knee while the elder absently pets his mussed hair.
“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, voice muffled in Wonwoo's thigh. “What's wrong with me?”
Seungkwan snorts, but a shush from her boyfriend has her standing down. Wonwoo knows she means well, but the last thing Mingyu needs right now is a grocery list of everything wrong with him.
In lieu of an answer, Wonwoo starts the movie (they always start with Mingyu's favourite, just in case). He shuffles so Mingyu can settle against him more comfortably, the popcorn transferred onto the younger’s lap.
There's nothing wrong with you, Wonwoo tries to convey without saying the words. He runs his fingers through Mingyu’s hair fondly. Mingyu lets out a sigh as he relaxes against Wonwoo's calves. You're fine just the way you are.
The next morning, Wonwoo wakes up to find the living room in a state of mess. Everyone's still in the same seats, although their positions have changed.
Hansol and Seungkwan are bundled under one of Wonwoo's many quilts. The latter’s head is pillowed on Hansol's bicep, head tilted awkwardly.
Junhui’s still seated, arm slung over her eyes as she sleeps. Minghao’s head rests in her lap, his lanky figure sprawled across Wonwoo's floor and spilling into the hallway.
Soonyoung and Seokmin are sprawled in the middle of Wonwoo's living room, piled on top of each other like a puppy pile. Chan is resting against their stacked bodies, drool dripping from his half-open lips to wet Soonyoung’s shirt.
Jeonghan reigns solo on Wonwoo's only beanbag, phone threatening to slip from his fingertips. He was probably texting his elusive girlfriend, who he selfishly kept hidden from the rest of them, not that Wonwoo blames him.
Wonwoo shifts, back protesting yet another night in his armchair. He fumbles for the remote, shutting the TV off so it'll stop playing the movie they'd watched last (The Holiday, starring Cameron Diaz and… that other chick).
He tries to get up, but there’s a lump stuck to his legs, rendering him immobile. Wonwoo can recognise that unruly mop of hair anywhere; seems like Mingyu’s decided to use Wonwoo as his favourite cuddle buddy again. The younger has always been a very physical person, even if it Wonwoo wasn’t. It’s something he’s gotten used to – to the point where he might feel empty if he didn’t have his thigh touching Mingyu’s when they sat or Mingyu’s arm slung around his shoulders while they stood.
He carefully pries Mingyu’s fingers from his pants, gently laying the younger down so he can relieve the pressure in his bladder. Only when he comes out of the bathroom does he realise that Jihoon’s small frame is not nestled amongst Seungcheol’s. The aroma of coffee slowly filling the apartment gives Wonwoo his answer – Jihoon, by some early Christmas miracle, is already awake.
Half-awake, he corrects himself as he notices the lethargic way his classmate and friend manoeuvres his kitchen. He’s sure to make noise as he enters his own kitchen, if only so there is no repeat of The Frying Pan Incident of 2016.
“Coffee,” Jihoon rasps, eyes puffy and half-closed from sleep. “Sit.”
Wonwoo grunts in reply. Mornings aren’t his forte. He’s pretty sure the sun isn’t up yet, which makes Jihoon’s awakening all the more mystical.
“Your stupid couch is lumpy and Seungcheol was crushing me,” Jihoon grumbles, blowing a strand of lavender hair out of her face. “Get a futon or something.”
“Buy me one or fall asleep in the guest room next time,” Wonwoo answers unsympathetically. It’s always the same complaint, so he doesn’t take it to heart. If she really hated it, she’d just stop coming to movie nights. If there’s anything Jihoon is good at, it’s being straightforward and easy to read.
The gentle whirring comes to a stop as the coffee machine completes its job. Jihoon fills up two mugs, handing Wonwoo one while she sips from another. This early in the morning, they can't be bothered with frivolities like sugar or milk. They drink it black, the way they like their studios when they're two days from a submission.
Jihoon gazes at Wonwoo over the rim of her mug, eyes sharper than they were two minutes ago. When she puts the mug down, there's a question burning in her eyes.
“So,” she starts, then pauses, scrutinizing Wonwoo's expression. “What do you look for in a girlfriend?”
I know you didn't like the kids being nosy, the set of her mouth says. Other than Mingyu, Jihoon is the only person who understands just how private Wonwoo can be. It's not that he doesn't want to share things with the kids – the kind of girl Wonwoo prefers to date isn't exactly a national secret – but there are just some things he prefers to keep close to the vest, so to speak.
Wonwoo shrugs. He hasn't really thought about it, but words come spilling out of his mouth anyway.
“Someone tall, but not too tall,” he hears himself saying, as if he were in a dream. “Can make me laugh, I guess? I don’t know. Someone with a nice face. Smart, but not arrogant about it. Funny?”
“You said funny twice,” Jihoon snorts. She takes another long sip of her coffee. Wonwoo can practically see the gears turning in her head, slowly grinding to a halt as she comes to a conclusion. “Sounds like your ideal girl is Mingyu.”
Wonwoo attributes it to the early hour that has Jihoon saying such things. Mingyu is his best friend – and is also very much not a girl. It’s not that Wonwoo finds the Mingyu not being a girl problem; if anything, it’s more the Mingyu is his best friend that concerns him.
“Can’t be,” Wonwoo says, after a long pause that has Jihoon’s eyes widening with every moment that passes silently. “He’s not gay.”
Jihoon’s eyebrow attempts to escape into her hairline. “But you are?”
Good question. Wonwoo doesn’t like labels. He thinks things like sexuality and identity are too easily changed. “I don’t know. Maybe. But not for Mingyu.” He thinks.
“Ouch.” The words are sympathetic, but her tone isn’t. “Still… don’t write off Mingyu completely, I guess. He’s an idiot, but if he gets his head out of his ass, he might be good for you.”
Wonwoo shrugs noncommittally. It’s not like he’s going to lay awake at night, thinking of wanting to be Mingyu’s boyfriend.
Wow, Wonwoo suddenly hates himself.
It’s three fifty-seven a.m. on a Wednesday night. He has a class at eight in the morning and he hasn’t slept a wink. All because he can’t let go of the idea of being Mingyu’s boyfriend.
It’s not like Wonwoo ever feels alone. He’s constantly got his friends around him. If he’s not with Jihoon and Soonyoung in class, he’s with Mingyu and Minghao (and by default, Junhui). And if they’re not around, Seungkwan and Hansol are nearby. So he’s not lonely.
But even he has to admit it’d be nice to have a hand to hold, or a shoulder to lie on at the end of the day.
So why, in the middle of the godforsaken night, does Wonwoo find that the hand he wants to hold or the shoulder he wants to lean on has to be attached to a certain Kim Mingyu.
Mingyu has a lot of good traits. He’s a great listener, a funny guy and it’s always easy for Wonwoo to smile around him. Wonwoo’s not a touchy person, but he doesn’t find Mingyu’s proximity annoying or too much. He won’t say he craves the younger’s touch, but it gives him a sense of comfort that physical affection doesn’t usually give him.
Does it mean he likes Mingyu? No, of course not.
Oh my god, does he like Mingyu?
No, no way. Mingyu is his best friend. Mingyu is also straight. Not to mention he can’t retain a girlfriend for the life of him. Even if Wonwoo liked Mingyu and even if Mingyu liked him back and wanted to date him, it wouldn’t end well. There was no use agonising over non-existent feelings that’ll ruin the best friendship Wonwoo has ever had in this twenty years on this earth. Forget it.
And while we’re talking about things Wonwoo won’t do, he’s not going to pine over an idiot who couldn’t tell romantic feelings from platonic ones even if they smacked him in the face while breakdancing naked. So who cares?
Not Wonwoo, that’s who.
With that decisive thought, the music major squeezes his eyes shut. He forces himself to fall asleep, letting out a sigh as he feels his body sink into dreamland.
It’s all normal, until he realises he’s dreaming about calloused hands in his and a musky cologne – vaguely familiar – teasing his nose. He can hear an unintelligibly deep voice murmuring sweet nothings into his ear and slightly chapped lips pressed against his.
When he jerks awake, he realises he’s royally and truly fucked.
Wonwoo toys with the idea of avoiding Mingyu, but that plan fails within two minutes of walking out the door. Mingyu’s dorm is in the next building and they always walk to their Wednesday classes together. The younger greets him with a chirpy hey, hyung! and Wonwoo tries not to smile guiltily.
He grunts in reply, averting his gaze so Mingyu won’t read the awkwardness in his eyes. It’s irrational, but it feels like Mingyu might know Wonwoo dreamt about him if the latter looked at him long enough. Developing a crush on your best friend kind of really sucks. He might have to ask Hansol how he did it (for all of two years before he started dating said best friend – yeah, maybe he won’t ask Choi freaking I can date my best friend because my best friend is a female Hansol).
Wonwoo damn near jumps out of his skin when Mingyu wraps a hand around his wrist, peering down at him and looking so goddamned concerned.
“Hyung, are you okay?” Mingyu asks, lips pursed out of worry. “You look out of it. You didn’t stay up late watching porn again, did you?”
Wonwoo’s jaw drops, out of both embarrassment and indignation. “I – first of all, fuck you, I was watching anime,” he sputters. “And second of all, you’re the only person I know who’d stay up late watching porn, you insatiable pervert!”
Mingyu’s lips twitch. Then, he lets out a giggle that escalates into a chuckle and eventually turns into full-blown laughter. Wonwoo tries to stay mad, but Mingyu is doubled over and his laughter is just so contagious. He lets slip a chuckle even though he doesn’t want to.
The younger is wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling occasionally. Wonwoo doesn’t know when the snow started falling, but it sparkles as it melts in Mingyu’s blonde hair. He’s suddenly hit by a sudden feeling of fondness and spreads warmth from his chest all the way to his fingers and toes.
Mingyu blinks, reaching out for Wonwoo’s cheek and cupping it gently. “Are you… blushing?”
Fuck. The tell-tale heat in Wonwoo’s cheeks mean he is blushing and he’s appalled because all Mingyu did was smile at him with snow in his hair. Suddenly, death sounds very appealing.
“I’m cold,” Wonwoo says hastily, jerking away from Mingyu’s warm palm so he can wrap his scarf all the way up to his nose, effectively shielding his blush that won’t go away. “Let’s just go, or we’re going to be late for class.”
“This is all your fault,” Wonwoo hisses as he stands in the doorway of Jihoon’s and Junhui’s apartment. The former blinks up at Wonwoo in confusion, standing to the side so he can stomp his way in.
Soonyoung and Junhui are seated at the coffee table, discussing outfits for the next time Soonyoung feels more feminine. Today is a he day for Soonyoung, so he’s decked out in a pair of ripped jeans and a thick, pale yellow hoodie. In the background, the pause screen for three-way Halo 2 is playing on the screen.
“What’d we miss?” Soonyoung asks, seeing the tension in Wonwoo’s shoulders as he wrestles his way out of his wet clothes. “Did that jerk of a professor give Wonwoo a bad grade again?”
Wonwoo runs his hands through his hair in a show of frustration. “She made me have feelings,” he complains, pointing an accusatory finger at Jihoon. “Mingyu walked me to my class and I got a heart boner!”
“A heart… what?” Junhui demands, kohl-lined eyes flicking between her two friends. “Explanation, now.”
“Heart boner,” Soonyoung snickers to himself.
“Shut up,” Wonwoo snaps good-naturedly. “That’s what you said when you decided you wanted to date both Seokmin and the baby.”
A pillow goes flying at Wonwoo’s head, making contact. Wonwoo supposes he should be lucky it’s a cushion and not the Xbox controller.
“Chan’s not a baby, he’s a legal adult!”
“Ladies, please, save the claws for after the explanation,” Junhui says flatly, while Jihoon ambles out of the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate. The drink is pressed into Wonwoo’s freezing hands and the make is seated on the couch.
“So, Mingyu gave you a heart boner,” Jihoon snorts. “Big deal. We get heart boners all the time from our boyfriends.”
Soonyoung and Junhui nod. Obviously they’re not seeing the problem.
“Mingyu’s not gay,” Wonwoo protests.
Soonyoung wrinkles his nose. “Hey, my boyfriends aren’t gay either!”
Wonwoo rephrases. “Mingyu is straight. And he’s my best friend!” When Junhui opens her mouth, he continues, “If you try to bring Seungkwan into this, I’ll punch you.”
Junhui whistles. “Ooh, touchy.” She grins. “Come on, it’s not like Jihoonie knew you were gay.”
In response to this, the Busan native shrugs. “Eh,” she says.
“Eh?” the other three repeat. “What is eh supposed to mean?” Wonwoo demands.
Jihoon shrugs again. Wonwoo thinks he might be developing one of those throbbing veins in his forehead, much like the kind Seungcheol has when Jihoon is being particularly difficult.
“What’s the problem?” Soonyoung asks, genuinely baffled. “It’s not like Mingyu would mind if you were gay.”
Wonwoo groans into his hands. “He won’t mind if I’m gay, but he’ll mind if I’m gay for him.”
He can already picture the scene: Mingyu finding out he has feelings for him and deciding he wants nothing to do with the elder. It’s like everything he’s ever feared, paired with a broken heart and an emptiness in his life that he’ll never be able to fill. Wonwoo would prefer redoing his finals than go through that.
Soonyoung shuffles closer, placing a gentle hand onto Wonwoo’s knee.
“Look,” the dance major starts softly, “I know it’s scary. I felt the same way when I figured out I was genderfluid, when I first started like Seokminnie and Channie. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but nothing’s going to change if you don’t take a chance, you know?”
Maybe it’s the soothing note in Soonyoung’s voice, but he feels a little less alone. It feels like there’s someone who gets it.
“And hey, you might not be gay,” Junhui quips. Jihoon elbows the Chinese native, glaring at the taller female slightly, as if to say not helping. “Ow! I’m just saying that sexuality is fluid and Wonwoo could be bi!”
“Or pan,” Soonyoung adds helpfully. “Either way, there’s nothing wrong with liking Mingyu.”
“There’s something wrong with liking Mingyu,” Junhui grumbles, “but it’s more a question of his character rather than the fact that he has a dick.”
“Junhui!” Wonwoo exclaims, scandalised by her choice of words. Soonyoung nudges his controller into the taller male’s hands and Jihoon unpauses the game. The next couple hours is filled with death threats, yelling and a whole lot of friendly fire (both unintentional and intentional), but Wonwoo eventually leaves feeling a lot better than when he arrived.
When it comes down to it, he guesses, all you need sometimes is a couple friends to set you straight (theoretically speaking).