Work Text:
It’s well past midnight when Joochan sluggishly drags himself out of the studio and onto the last train of the night, collapsing onto the nearest seat. A steady stream of people trickles in as he gets himself comfortable as possible in the hard seat of the train, pulling out his earphones to push them into his ears, drowning out the hustle and bustle of tired people with a press of a button. The first few beats of “Fantasia,” the latest hit track by his favorite soloist, Y, plays and he slumps back, body relaxing to the familiar, comforting beat.
He is positively exhausted, and he can feel a sore throat incoming from all the singing he’s been doing the past few days, not to mention the straining and overuse. Even after hours and hours of belting out notes, his vocal coach still hadn’t been satisfied, finally sending Joochan back home with a disappointed look. Being reminded of the disheartened expression causes a lump to form in his throat. The blonde scrunches his eyelids shut and does his best to forget.
The cool automated female voice instructs passengers to hold on tight. The train comes to a stop, and more people filter in streams. Within moments, it’s packed full, and Joochan’s honestly surprised that the seat next to him is still empty. For a moment he wonders if he smells but a discreet sniff confirms that no, he still smells like the detergent he uses to wash his clothes. Maybe it was his eyes; he was often told that his sharp eyes made him intimidating to approach.
Whatever it is, God bless. He didn’t want to deal with pressing thighs with some nasty stranger. Pleased, he settles back into the uncomfortable seat, ready to sleep until his stop arrives.
Clearly, he’s spoken too soon, because right as the automated doors of the train begins to slide shut, someone from a distance shouts “hold the door please!” and there’s a flurry of movement as people hurry to move out of the way as a man, tall with jet-black hair, bursts through the door just as the doors click shut. There’s a series of annoyed murmurs that die down just as it starts as the train begins to move, and everyone forgets about the man.
Joochan, however, stares at the man who’s pulling himself together, patting down his jacket and pants, intrigued. There’s something… eye-catching about him, even with a face mask covering half of his face, and when the man pulls down his mask and taps at something on his phone, Joochan understands.
Staring is considered to be bad manners, but it’s hard not to when the man has a face that looks as if it’s been sculpted from marble. Shiny black hair, perfect skin, jaw sharp as a knife, pretty lips, beautifully shaped eyes, and a cute nose. A face like an idol’s, the blonde realizes. Entertainment companies must be all over this person, Joochan muses to himself, especially since he’s walking around with a face like that.
Caught up staring at the unknown idol-like male, it takes him a moment to realize that those beautiful eyes that had been staring at their phone have shifted to stare right into his own. Ever the subtle person, he whips his head around and nearly gets whiplash.
Oh, yeah, just make yourself more obvious, Joochan thinks scathingly, determinedly staring at the seat next to him. The seat next to him. Which is empty. Possibly the only empty seat in the train car. Oh, shit.
As if on cue, a pair of boots come to a stop in front of him, and then there’s a mellow voice asking him, “is this seat taken?” Joochan looks up and lo and behold, it’s Idol-ssi, as he had officially dubbed the striking boy in his head. Unfairly, up close, he’s even more handsome, if not clearly tired, by the telltale shadows under his eyes. He looks as if he may just fall asleep standing if he didn’t sit somewhere soon. Joochan may like his space, but he isn’t heartless.
And who is he kidding? He has no qualms about being squashed next to a man as handsome as this one. Nodding fervently, he scoots over as much as he can, but it doesn’t make much of a difference as Idol-ssi sits down. With the train packed as it Is, the sides of their bodies are pressed flush against each other and Joochan murmurs a quiet apology, which the other interrupts quickly.
“Not at all. Thank you,” he says, and too focused on not flushing from the close contact, the blonde nods jerkily. He busies himself with pulling out his phone and switching his music from “Our Heaven” once again back to “Fantasia.”
Almost instantly as the first notes of the song plays, Idol-ssi stiffens and moves as if he’s going to look back at Joochan, but then seems to think better of it and returns back to his original position. He’s still taut, like a stretched rubber band. How strange. Joochan glances at him and considers asking him if anything is wrong before he decides against it and shrugs it off, sinking back into the calm he had been before Idol-ssi had burst through the train doors.
His eyelids just barely begin to grow heavy and dip down when there’s a tap on his shoulder and Joochan nearly tosses his phone in frustration. Okay. He won’t be taking a quick rest today. That was fine. Inhaling in what would have been a frustrated sigh, he turns to face the owner of the hand that had tapped him.
And wow, the other is seriously too good-looking; Joochan’s two weaknesses are food and unfortunately, cute boys, so it’s no surprise when whatever annoyance he’d felt completely dissipates.
Idol-ssi says something that Joochan doesn’t catch over his music. He pulls out an earbud. “Could you repeat that?”
“Uh… Your music-”
Oh! Joochan blushes hotly. “I’m so sorry, I’ll put down the sound right away-” He starts, embarrassed.
“Oh, no, no, no-” The other is quick to wave him off. “The song you were listening to, is it-”
“‘Fantasia’,” Joochan finishes. “By Y. Are you… Are you familiar with it?”
“Just as I guessed,” Idol-ssi nods. “I... know of it, yes. Do you like the song?”
Joochan blinks at him. Is Idol-ssi trying to… make conversation with him? Whatever the other hopes to achieve, Joochan tackles the chance with both hands.
“Like the song? I love it! Y’s voice is just the right mixture of energetic and calming—‘Fantasia’ is definitely one of his biggest hits, he’ll have no problem sweeping daesangs with it. All of Y’s music is amazing—his discography is amazing, there is not a single skip. In fact, everything about Y is perfect—his voice is beautiful and his range is jaw-dropping, and even as primarily a singer his dancing is like those from idol groups, and he’s so handsome although I’ve only seen a few pictures of him and-” He pulls up short, realizing his voice has just been getting louder and louder, people eying him with distaste. Joochan has the decency to blush, lowering his voice. “Sorry,” he winces at Idol-ssi, who’s thankfully looking at him not with annoyance, but something akin to amusement. “I'm excited when it comes to music.”
“It’s quite alright,” Idol-ssi says, giving Joochan a brilliant smile that temporarily blinds him from the beauty of it. His smile is adorable, with his lips curving upwards and teeth peeking out; like a rabbit, Joochan realizes, before he stops himself. No falling in love with strangers you won’t ever see again on the train, he tells himself stubbornly. Even strangers as handsome as Idol-ssi. “I’m the same way.”
“I’ve never met someone who’s a fan of Y who isn’t a screaming teenage girl,” Joochan says, voice significantly lowered. “So this is a big surprise.”
“A fan of Y?” Idol-ssi’s pretty lips twitch before he clears his throat. “I guess you could say that.” He smiles that pretty bunny smile again, Joochan’s heart going badump against his will. “It’s nice to see that you enjoy his music so passionately. I believe I’ve pestered you enough, I’ll leave you to it,” Idol-ssi says before he’s pulling out his own pair of earphones, leaving Joochan to his thoughts.
After speaking to Idol-ssi, Joochan is sure of it—he’s heard his voice before. But the question is, where has he heard him? A past coworker? An old classmate from high school? Someone in his college class? He crosses those options off his list instantly; he would have surely remembered someone as good-looking as the other and shot his shot. Deep enough in his thoughts with no notice of his surroundings, he pays no attention to the other until there’s a gentle pressure on his shoulder, soft, feathery hair tickling against his neck.
Joochan nearly jumps from the touch, craning his neck to find that the owner of the hair is Idol-ssi, who has fallen asleep; somewhere along passing out, he’d been leaning to the side, until his head had rested on Joochan’s shoulder, lolling against his neck.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
What a surprise.
To his credit, Joochan doesn’t startle or instinctively throw the other off him like he would have had it been anyone else; instead, he freezes, body going tense and breaths slowing.
Warm breath fans across Joochan’s neck, puffing against the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder, and he does his best not to shiver from the sensation. He shifts, attempting to make more space between him and Idol-ssi, but it fails when all that happens is Idol-ssi burying his head deeper into Joochan’s shoulder, lips ghosting Joochan’s skin. He pushes aside all the thoughts his mind is screaming, accepting his fate to serve as the stranger’s pillow for the rest of the train ride.
This close and personal, his eyes dart over Idol-ssi’s face, taking in the features of the Sleeping Beauty. He knows he’s seen the man before, but he simply can’t put his finger on it, and it’s infuriating him to no end. Even as he racks his brain as hard as he can, thinking back to every staff member he's had, middle school, elementary school, nothing comes to mind.
The rest of the train trip passes with Idol-ssi sleeping quietly with his face nestled in the crook of Joochan’s neck, lips brushing skin with every breath. Joochan applauds himself for not shuddering at every breath that fans across his neck and sends goosebumps peppering across his skin, not so much at the fact that his face is hot and hands are sweaty throughout it all. Joochan isn’t normally a blusher, but he thinks this situation warrants the fact that he’s beet red.
Joochan’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when the train finally comes to the last stop of the day and he’s forced to gently shake the slumbering man on his shoulder. When all Idol-ssi does is stir and murmur cutely in his sleep and nestle even closer to Joochan (which brings forth another wave of heat to his face), he shakes the other more firmly. “Idol-ssi,” he whispers, except as a naturally loud person his whisper comes out louder than he had intended. “We’ve arrived at the last stop-”
He can feel the exact moment Idol-ssi wakes up because of the way he shifts and then stiffens for a few moments, most likely assessing the situation and realizing that yes, he has been using a random stranger on a train as his pillow. The other moves back so quickly that Joochan almost feels insulted. “Oh my god—I’m sorry.” He’s clearly mortified, a similar red to Joochan’s blush dusting his own face, and isn’t that sight. “Was I sleeping on you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—I can’t believe I-”
Admittingly, seeing Idol-ssi flustered and embarrassed is cute, but Joochan quickly takes pity on him and waves away his embarrassed apologies with a sheepish grin. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. If I had really minded that someone like you was sleeping on me, I would’ve pushed you off me a long time ago.”
He- he’s basically just admitted that he thinks the other is attractive, hasn’t me? Maybe he’s reading too much into it.
Even with Joochan’s assurances, Idol-ssi still looks like he wants to dig a hole to crawl into and die. “I’m so embarrassed,” he groans, dragging a hand up his face and through his hair, and damn why is that so sexy—if Idol-ssi doesn’t leave anytime soon Joochan might just grab him by his collar and kiss the breath out of him. “Let me make it up to you,” he says, and Joochan might have laughed it off except the other’s eyes are dead-serious. “I know… a couple cafés that are still open at this hour. Let me buy you a coffee or something. Please.”
The offer is surprising. The pleasant “no, thank you,” is at the tip of Joochan’s tongue, except—he’s a weak man. The only thing he can’t resist over handsome, tall men, is the promise of a meal. He may have been exhausted when he had first entered the train tonight, but now he’s wide awake, what with Idol-ssi invading his personal space for the last half-hour. And he deserves a little fun, Joochan thinks defensively. The last few days have been trying, and a warm drink would do wonders for his throat.
He shrugs nonchalantly, playing it off as if he’s not screaming in his head about having a date—ehm, sharing a drink, with a handsome stranger past midnight. “Why not? I could use a break.” Idol-ssi seems surprised by his quick acceptance but recovers quickly.
“Great!” His bunny smile is back on his face before it disappears under his mask as they exit the train. “I know a place that’s just a few blocks away. You don’t mind do you?” Joochan shakes his head, falling into step with the other as he takes the lead. “I didn’t expect for you to accept so quickly, Joochan-ssi. Most people wouldn’t be comfortable with letting a stranger lead them into an unknown place.”
“Never turn down an offer of food, whether it’s from a stranger or not. And I think I’m strong enough to fight someone off if needed,” he says dryly before his brain catches up with the rest of the taller’s sentence. He whips his head towards Idol-ssi, jaw agape. “You-! How do you-”
The other points at his chest and Joochan blinks down, at his nametag that’s still slung around his neck from when he left the studio. Oh lord, it’s the card with the ugly picture of him that he’d taken as a freshman in college. Cheeks burning, he glares at the other, hurriedly taking off the nametag and shoving it deep into this pocket. “You haven’t even told me your name yet,” he demands. “How am I supposed to know you aren’t taking me to a remote location to kidnap me? I mean, I’m certainly pretty enough to be kidnapped, so I don’t blame you, but that’s-” He stops mid-sentence to stare at Idol-ssi who bursts into laughter, and shit, he’s falling way too fast.
“I agree,” Idol-ssi chuckles, eyes sweeping Joochan’s face, and Joochan’s breath catches in his throat. “Excuse my manners, it seems I did forget to introduce myself.” He laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m Sungyoon, nice to meet you, Joochan-ssi… but I guess it’s a bit late to say that, huh?”
Joochan stops in his tracks even as Idol-ssi, no, Sungyoon, continues walking, prompting the other to pause and turn to him with a questioning look. Oh, hell no . This is not happening. Sungyoon resumes walking and Joochan forces his feet to keep up. With his heart feeling like it’s beating in his throat, he opens his mouth and hopes he doesn’t croak like a frog. “What’s- what’s your surname?”
There’s no way that what he's thinking is true… but everything is slowly fitting together like a puzzle piece.
Sungyoon’s voice, the familiar features of his face, the way he had stiffened when he’d heard Fantasia play through Joochan’s earphones, and then asked him about Y… It can’t be, but everything is fitting up too well to be a coincidence-
“Oh! Of course. Choi. I’m Choi Sungyoon. Oh, we’re here! I come by here often, they have the best drinks and pastries in the city.” Choi Sungyoon holds open the door, smiling as if he hasn’t just dropped the bomb of the century onto Joochan.
When the blonde doesn’t move from where he’s standing frozen, gaping down at the other, Sungyoon’s smile tugs down just the slightest. “Is anything… wrong?”
“You.” Joochan squeaks. “You. Choi Sungyoon. Y.” Saying it out loud sounds surreal—he expects for the other to frown and ask if he’s quite alright.
Except the other does the opposite, which is nodding as if it’s completely normal for the male idol who’s won artist of the year for three consecutive years to walk around in public like he’s an ordinary pedestrian. “You’re not the only one to recognize someone. Hong Joochan, right? From CH.JOOCHAN on Youtube?” Joochan’s jaw drops even more as Sungyoon continues to stun him with every word. “I really loved your cover of Fantasia —it was amazing, maybe even better than the original. Ah, it’s rude to just stand here, we should go in.”
Sungyoon enters and Joochan stumbles in after him, still shell-locked as he takes a seat in the well-lit cafés, too distracted to appreciate the honey-painted walls and pretty decorations. The sweets and drinks listed on the menu look delicious, but for once in his life, Joochan finds that he doesn’t have an appetite.
Sungyoon takes a seat across from him, pulling down his mask again and now Joochan can fully remember the face of Y. Oh God, he’s made such a big fool of himself in front of his idol, and now he’s the one who wants to dig a hole to crawl into and die. He opens his mouth to maybe apologize or wax poetry about his love for the other’s music or maybe even simply ask for Sungyoon to run him over with a truck, but all that comes out is a squeaked, “you’ve watched my videos?” Enough to recognize me and know my full name?
“Subscribed to,” Sungyoon says and this must be a fever dream. The older links his fingers, leaning his chin onto his hands. “It’s too bad you do mostly covers and only have one original song; I’m quite fond of 'A Song for Me.' With a voice as sweet as yours, I think you’d blow up in the music industry.”
“T-thank you,” Joochan stutters out, mind reeling at the fact that! His idol! Is! Praising! Him! “I—um, expect something soon, I’ve been working on a new song,” he blurts out without thinking it through, but the way Sungyoon’s face lights up is worth it.
Before the other can reply, a waitress approaches them, asking for their order. Joochan winces as Sungyoon orders and Americano—he’s never been fond of bitter flavors—and opts for a hot chocolate instead. She politely bows and leaves, and once again the two are left alone.
Joochan’s not a shy person—quite the contrary, actually—but the older’s presence is simply intimidating, whether it be because of the darkness of his eyes or the sharpness of his jaw, or simply the elegance he holds himself with. Must be an idol thing. “I’m really sorry again for sleeping on you on the train,” Sungyoon says, and once again Joochan is quick to flail his hands in retaliation.
“No, no it’s okay! Especially since-” Especially since you’re Choi Sungyoon! “I-I’m a big fan,” he switches quickly.
“I could tell, from how excited you were on the train. Not to mention, you…” A teasing smile curls Sungyoon’s lips as he gives Joochan a sidelong look. “...seem to talk about me quite a lot on your channel.” A hot flush of embarrassment rushes into Joochan’s cheeks. He’s made such, such a fool of himself. “I appreciate having such a devoted fan like you.” Another sly smile. “It’s nice to know you find me handsome.”
“T-that’s-” Of course, out of everything to focus on, he had to choose that bit. Joochan helplessly gestures at Sungyoon’s face. “I mean I was just stating an obvious fact. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re s-stunning.” He trails off at the end, voice getting smaller and smaller. Sungyoon is looking at him with warm eyes before he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “cute” under his breath.
“That’s quite a compliment, coming from someone as pretty as you.” Joochan thinks he may pass away.
Is Sungyoon—Choi Sungyoon, flirting with him? Joochan fumbles, trying to find the right words when a hand settles on top of his. “Hey.” His gaze snaps up to Sungyoon’s, the owner of the hand. Sungyoon gives him an encouraging smile. “Are you nervous?”
“No shit,” Joochan says before he can think, and Sungyoon laughs, his grip getting tighter.
“Don’t be,” he says, softly, Joochan breath stuttering when Sungyoon gently shifts his hand so that it slides under Joochan’s, gently curling around his fingers, thumb comfortingly running across his knuckles. What is this development? Joochan suddenly wonders if he’s in a K-drama and that if he looks around, he’ll find cameras surrounding them. “Just think about me as the dumb stranger who slobbered on you on the train, not as Y, or Choi Sungyoon. Just Sungyoon.”
And Joochan looks into his soft, soft eyes, feels the gentle squeeze of his hand, and he does.
The conversation is considerably less strained from then on, Joochan’s natural talking habits coming back with full force as they chat, from aimless topics such as their days to gushing over their dogs. Throughout it all, Sungyoon doesn’t let go of Joochan’s hand, thumb still massaging circles onto his hand.
It comes as a big surprise when the two find out that not only were the two similar in that they’d both pursued singing as their careers and passion, but that the two had the same blood type and the same family dynamics, with an older sister and a dog. The biggest surprise of all is when they figure out that they share the same birthday.
“Maybe we’re meant to be,” Sungyoon jokes, and Joochan pretends that doesn’t affect him nearly as much as it actually does.
Their drinks are served and Sungyoon hadn’t been lying when he’d said that the café had some of the best drinks because the hot chocolate is no joke, but that may as well have been the effect of Sungyoon, whose presence seems to somehow amplify all of Joochan’s emotions.
Sungyoon glances at the clock after what must be hours later and startles. “Closing time is in five minutes, we should probably go. I didn’t even realize we’d been talking for so long.”
For hours, but still, Joochan doesn’t feel satisfied.
A deep sadness settles in Joochan’s gut as Sungyoon pays for their drinks and the two hurry out minutes before closing time, realizing that he’d most likely never see the other again, let alone sit and chat in an empty café for hours. He tries his best to hide his disappointment, head down and hands buried deep into his pockets.
The two stand in silence, breathing in the chilly air. Joochan shuffles awkwardly, scuffing his booted foot against the street. “Well then,” he breaks the silence, Sungyoon turning to look at him. “I should be going now. Thank you for the drink.” The older stares at him for a few seconds too long, seemingly processing his words.
“Yeah, you’re right…”
They stand for a few seconds longer.
“...Goodbye then.” Joochan turns away, and ah, fuck, he can already feel tears pricking his eyes. Curse his emotional self. He should’ve never agreed to the drink, especially when he had realized it was Choi Sungyoon who’d smiled at him and had Joochan under his spell in an instant. It would have been much easier if they hadn’t talked for hours, and Joochan hadn’t seen past Y and seen the person who is simply Sungyoon , no idol filters masking who he is.
He’s barely taken a step forward to walk away when there’s a flurry of motion and Sungyoon’s grabbing at his hand, pulling him back. “-Wait!”
...What?
Joochan turns back in surprise, to the other who’s holding onto his hand, eyes glittering with determination. “I-I know that we just met, and this is incredibly bold and stupid of me.” Sungyoon’s stuttering, his gaze firmly fixed onto the ground, and there's pink blooming on his cheeks. It's a stark contrast from his smooth self from earlier. “B-but I really like you, and I-I know it’s too much to ask, but maybe…” His eyes turn pleading now. “Could we exchange numbers?”
The blonde gapes at him.
His mind is furiously working to register the other’s words; Sungyoon… wanted his number? He wanted… to keep in touch with Joochan? And… he thought that was too much to ask for?
Sungyoon drops his hand like he’s been burned when Joochan doesn’t answer and just continues gaping at him, backing away. “Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to, after all, you don’t owe me anything-”
“ Just my phone number?” Joochan says (once again) without thinking. Sungyoon pauses to blink at him. “I’d give you anything ; my address, my bank account, heck, my body, I’d gladly agree-” He stops as he realizes the words coming out of his mouth. “I-I mean-”
Sungyoon’s loud laughter cuts through the night, and it really is the most beautiful thing Joochan’s heard. He’s still chortling as he pulls his phone out. “You’re something else. I think I’ll be fine with just a number, but maybe we can discuss that third request sometime later. ” Joochan flushes, snatching Sungyoon’s phone out of his hand so he can add his number into the older’s contacts, masking his mortification by angrily stabbing at the numbers, saving the contact as Joochannie <3 . Sungyoon chuckles at his choice of name, pocketing his phone. “Well then, I think we can now have a proper goodbye, hm?”
Before Joochan can mull over what exactly he means, Sungyoon is leaning down, pressing the lightest of kisses onto Joochan’s lips, so gentle and soft that he might have not kissed him at all.
A warmth explodes inside Joochan, spreading to his cheeks, to his toes, his fingers, and he’s overcome by an urge to grab Sungyoon’s collar and yank him back down for another kiss. He barely holds himself back.
Moving back, Sungyoon smiles once more. “I’ll be sure to text you. Goodbye for now, Joochan-ssi.”
Joochan stands there for a long time, feet rooted to the ground as Sungyoon’s back retreats further and further, until he can’t see him anymore. There’s a cheery ding from his phone, and he hurries to dig it out of his pocket.
unknown number:
i said i’ll be sure to text, didn’t i? • (now)
Joochan walks back to his apartment with a skip to his step.