Chapter Text
There’s about two weeks worth of empty Microsoft word documents lining Mingyu’s laptop screen, all with different titles, none with any actual substance.
He’d wrung himself out researching and now had little to show for it; the first draft of his final dissertation has nothing to it but a vague outline scribbled on the back of a sudoku puzzle he stole from the school library.
He might be barking up the wrong tree with his focus, but it’s far too late into his educational career to change it now.
He closes the laptop regardless, and prepares to leave the dingy floor of his apartment— it’s a problem for tomorrow Mingyu.
Or maybe next week Mingyu.
He’s not just a college undergraduate student anymore (those days had been messy and unforgiving), but a doctoral candidate . He’s trying to get a PhD here. Quite literally everything is riding on this research. He spent all four years as a literature major in undergrad, and then two more in grad school getting his master’s, and now he’s here: 27 years old, with stacks on stacks of research, and a blank screen that laughs at him and his eye bags.
After his laptop is safely shoved away, followed by spare dollar store pens and his binder of research notes, he shrugs on a hoodie and moves to toe his shoes on.
From the table his phone pings.
He sighs and picks it up, reading the text.
Wonwoo
I’m here. Do you want me to get you something
Me
Dw ill grab it when im there. Omw btw
He shoves his phone in his pocket, slides a beanie on, and steps outside.
It’s fall in New York, and definitely not the coldest it could possibly get yet, but he still keeps his hands in his pockets while he walks. The pale breeze whips his cheeks and he walks quicker across the street, trying not to bump into weary tourists. Though he usually doesn't— he finds most will simply move out of the way of a 6’2 man speed walking toward them.
It’s a very important day— he’s got major recon to do at the cafe down the street. They’re just meeting as peers, because that’s what students at this level of education do.
When it gets to the point that only seven people are in his class, the same seven that have been there for the last three or so years, he has to get to know them.
Which is why Jeon Wonwoo is currently sitting quietly at a corner table in the cafe Mingyu used to work at when he was 22, his glasses perched high on his pointed nose and fingers clicking away at his laptop keyboard.
They’d made plans only last night to meet up and discuss research points for their respective projects. Granted, Junhis was also supposed to show up to work with them, and it would have helped curb the extreme awkwardness Wonwoo carries around on his back.
But then Junhei cancelled this morning, and Mingyu simply didn’t have the heart to tell Wonwoo that he was cancelling too.
Not that he particularly knows the guy, anyways. As far as peers go, Wonwoo has said all of seven sentences to him in the last few months. He’s more of an acquaintance than anything, who Mingyu only knows because of mutual studies.
A coffee study session is going to be painfully awkward, he knows it, but he has to go. Mingyu has digging to do.
Last month the rough outline for their research had been due for review, and Mingyu had scrapped together some half-assed notes and submitted them to their professor. It hasn’t gone over well, and he’d been thoroughly dragged through the mud about his research and work ethic by their professor.
But Wonwoo— Wonwoo walked out of that review with flying colors.
And so he devised a plan to figure out how Wonwoo manages to have all his shit together, and maybe finally dethrone their class’ top student if he’s lucky in the process. Mingyu can’t help his competitive streak. He’s an Aries, what else is he supposed to do?
And so that brings him here. At this cafe at 11 AM, walking toward Jeon Wonwoo, who he knows literally nothing about except for the fact that he has to be good at writing based on his academic history.
“Hey,” he says, pulling the chair from the table. “You order already?”
Wonwoo looks up at him from under his glasses, which are actually kind of dense now that he gets a good look at them.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, voice way deeper than Minyu was expecting, “You said it was okay.”
“Yeah! Of course, I’m just gonna—“ he puts his bag down, “I’ll leave my stuff here, I’m gonna grab a drink. And a muffin, or something,” Mingyu rambles.
He walks away toward the counter to order, cringing. Wonwoo seems to pay no mind, and keeps typing away. He’s bundled up like he’s just left the Arctic, with a beige heavy long coat and pair of black boots, and a dark red beanie, and even still, his cheeks are flushed like he’d just left the biting wind of September.
He orders a simple caramel latte and a blueberry muffin, and waits for it by the second counter.
When he sits back down, Wonwoo has abandoned his laptop in favor of his notebook. His writing is actually a messy scrawl, as opposed to the neat lines that Mingyu would’ve expected. It’s kind of cramped, squished on the page of scribbles.
“So,” Mingyu starts, eyeing Wonwoo’s cup of coffee, “What did you get to drink?”
The single most important question of the day. One can tell a lot about a person’s coffee order. The coffee is iced and also black, so he's off to a bad start.
“Oh, it’s half cold brew and half quad shot espresso,” he says.
Absolute horror crosses Mingyu’s face. “Are you okay ?”
Wonwoo finally turns his full attention to Mingyu, putting his pen down gently. “Uh, yeah?” He questions.
Mingyu blanches. “Um. I didn’t mean to insult your coffee order. But like— that’s enough caffeine to take down a small horse.”
Wonwoo smiles then, and he does this thing where it curls around his bowed top lip. “Gotta get through writing somehow.”
Mingyu huffs a laugh, and opens his bag. “You’re insane, Wonwoo.”
The other just keeps his small smile and looks back under his glasses. Mingyu could probably leave it at that, because he doesn’t want to distract the guy, but he can’t help but keep talking. He kind of likes the timbre of Wonwoo’s voice.
“So, you’re working on your next draft?” Mingyu asks while he pulls his laptop and binder out.
Wonwoo nods. “I’ve got a couple of chapters mostly written, but still outlining the rest.”
It’s far more than Mingyu has even attempted.
“I’d imagine it’s going well. Professor Lee definitely enjoyed it, based on the last review.”
He notices that Wonwoo is terrible at making conversation and maintaining eye contact, because he’s still looking down at his papers.
“Yeah. He said it was good progress, but I ended up rewriting a bit of that segment so I’m slipping behind now.”
Mingyu smiles, “Well, can’t be that far behind. My entire paper exists only in my head for now.”
Wonwoo starts writing again, in the margins of his already existing notes. “I guess that’s why we’re here.”
Mingyu sighs and types his name on the document for the ten hundredth time. “Yeah, I guess.”
The study session doesn’t go all that crazy. Mingyu asks a few questions about Wonwoo’s research, and receives what he assumes were Wonwoo’s best attempts at answering; he still kills every attempt at conversation and Mingyu is pretty sure that he genuinely doesn’t mean to.
They spent most of the time in silence, actually working on their respective projects. Well, Wonwoo did— Mingyu ended playing games on coolmathgames when he decided that he couldn’t make heads or tails of his introduction.
He did valiantly try flipping through the research binder, reading the interview sheets from his subjects.
He remembers asking Wonwoo, “How do you stay so dedicated to it? Like, not procrastinating at all.”
And Wonwoo had looked up thoughtfully, simply replying, “I’m interested in what I’m writing about.”
And Mingyu hadn’t asked again.
—
Jeon Wonwoo was a bit of a mystery to Mingyu. He’s known the guy since his final year of his undergraduate career, when they were both 22. They’d met in one of their higher level English courses, in which Mingyu had been forced to write poetry. It was terrible. But still, he could count on one finger that number of times they’d spoken.
In fact, their impromptu study meeting was probably the most they’d ever spoken. Even so, he didn’t really know much about him.
He was the top of their class when they graduated undergrad, and he’s a shoe-in to be the top of this program too.
His best friend is Wen Junhei, and it might be the most serious case of opposites attract that Mingyu’s ever seen— Junhei talks enough for the both of them, and then some.
But Wonwoo has always carried the air of someone who doesn’t really want to make friends anyway. He sits in the back of classrooms, and he doesn’t really raise his hand, and he wears these long coats and round glasses and looks every bit like he just walked out of a law lecture. He’s always put-together, and always just out of Mingyu’s reach in terms of grades.
Now Mingyu’s never been a top of the class type of guy, always content with sitting at the middle of the pack.
But he’s come to realize that when they’re at this level of specialized study— when there’s only seven people sharing the same coursework and all trying to create original research and writing what is basically a book out of it— that sitting in the middle of the pack is closer to sitting last.
And when the last nine years of his life studies all culminate to this final year, he’s got a problem with sitting last.
It might be low of him to try and make friends with Wonwoo purely because he wants to do better in his studies, but Mingyu’s never really cared much for high points. His entire time in undergraduate had been a low point, so it can’t be much worse than that.
But he doesn’t actually know Wonwoo. So really— it’s not all that low anyways.
—
He’s alone in his apartment for the next two days, hacking away at an introduction page. And it’s not going terribly. He’s got a lot of bullet points and about four paragraphs.
The worst part of it all is that the research is done. He has several files of interviews and audio recordings, and rough idea sketches.
I’m interested in what I’m writing.
Mingyu is interested in his writing too. In fact, his interest in his topic has done nothing but grow over the course of his research.
But he’d seemed to hit a wall when it came to applying it.
That was the downfall of it: there was research and ideas, and there was a point, a thesis, to prove, and it was easy to connect the two in a simple matter of if then statements .
But to get all of that and attach meaning? It was a bit more difficult. Because sure, he can write about cause and effect all day long, but to create his own ideas about how it connects to the world around him was a bit of a challenge.
Which is why he spends two hours just listening to the audio recording of interviews like they’re an audiobook, without really absorbing most of the meaning. Because what does he have to say about them?
Not much.
—
He figures he’s got to find a way to get over the block he’s facing.
It brings him to his best friend’s apartment at three in the morning.
Seungkwan is always an early sleeper, but Mingyu holds the spare key to his apartment and so he shows up uninvited as he so pleases.
He’s pleasantly surprised, though, when he opens the door and the place smells of freshly brewed coffee.
“Kwanie? You up?” He calls, locking the door behind him.
A bang sounds in the distance somewhere, then a rustle, then the pat pat pat of Seungkwan’s bare feet on the hardwood floor, and then Seungkwan’s head pops out from the hallway. His hair is fluffed up and he looks frazzled.
“Oh! Gyu! Oh perfect, you’re incredible! Come here,” he yells, disappearing back into the hall.
Mingyu takes a moment to mentally prepare himself for whatever situation he’s about to walk into, and then follows Seungkwan. He ends up led into the bathroom, where Seungkwan is trying valiantly to unhinge his entire shelf.
Confused, Mingyu asks, “What….are you trying to do here?”
Seungkwan huffs. “Obviously I’m moving my shelf to the other wall, but it’s a bit heavier than I thought it would be.”
He puts a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Okay. Wrong question. Why are you trying to do this?”
The other sighs. “I have two labs due next week.”
Mingyu looks at him. Seungkwan is brilliant, if not a bit unhinged. It truly shows now, with his wide eyes and his half empty cup of coffee, more cream than coffee now, sitting on the bathroom counter, and the chips of paint stuck to his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajama pants.
He’s procrastinating. Mingyu knows the feeling.
“Alright. What do you need me to lift?”
Seungkwan’s eyes brighten. Mingyu ends up lifting three different shelves to four different places, all while Seungkwan sits on the counter and points to the next object he wants relocated.
When the clock hits 5 AM, they finally call it quits, settling into Seungkwan’s unnecessarily large king bed to sleep. At least it gets Mingyu’s mind off of his work.
—
The next day they go out for breakfast (more like a brunch, because it’s 1 in the afternoon).
Mingyu doesn’t expect much out of the cafe, but he certainly doesn’t expect to run into Wonwoo.
Wonwoo, who’s sitting in the same corner table tucked away in the back of the cafe as he was when he’d met with Mingyu.
“You know him?” Seungkwan says from his side, chewing on a fruit tart. Looking away, Mingyu shrugs.
“He’s a classmate. He’s studying character development.”
“Oh, fun. People who don’t exist, and how they continue to not exist in a different way.”
Mingyu shoves him.
“We get it, you gremlin. You study science. You can do math. Don’t rub it in my face. Fictional people are important too.”
The man laughs, taking another bite. “Whas’is name?” He asks, muffled through a layer of blueberry.
“Oh, uh, Wonwoo. Why?”
“Fantastic,” Seungkwan says, swallowing his bite. And then louder, “Wonwoo! Hey!”
Immediately planning his escape, Mingyu heaves and tries to find the nearest door— but it’s too late, Wonwoo is already startled out of his focus, and Seungkwan is already walking over to him.
The universe is not on his side today.
“Oh my god, Seungkwan, come back— Hey, Wonwoo, what’s up?” He interrupts himself, now that he’s standing like an idiot next to Wonwoo’s table.
Said Wonwoo looks mildly confused. “Hi?”
Seungkwan speaks up first. “Hey! Mingyu and I were just stopping by and he saw you so I figured I say hello, you know, like any good friend of a friend.”
Wonwoo looks away. “Oh. Hello. I’m Wonwoo.”
“Yes, I’m aware! You’re studying nonexistent people, right?”
Wonwoo furrows his brows. “I’m— what?”
Mingyu decides it's time to step in. “What he means is that you’re interested in character development.”
“Oh, right. Um. Yes.”
The silence is so thick that Mingyu swears he could reach out and touch it.
“Mingyu here is studying the same thing, right?” Seungkwan bugs.
“No? No, I'm literally studying nothing close to character development,” Mingyu strikes.
Wonwoo hums, “Isn’t he studying characterization? Or well, mis characterization?”
Mingyu smiles. “Yeah actually. I’m surprised you remember.”
Wonwoo readjusts his glasses and fidgets with his sleeve. “Well, I mean yeah— it’s a fascinating topic.”
Mingyu’s phone rings suddenly, blaring what he knows to be Seokmin’s ringtone. He remembers that they’re supposed to meet him at the university library, ten minutes ago— and stops Seungkwan from saying whatever embarrassing comment he’d had ready.
“Dude, we were supposed to be at the library a while ago! Seokmin’s gonna destroy your damn lab, idiot, we have to go,” Mingu rushes.
Rolling his eyes, Seungkwan replies, “He’d spill acid all over himself trying, please. But yeah, we should go.”
Mingyu turns toward Wonwoo, who’s now cradling his cup of black coffee in his fingers.
“Sorry for interrupting you. We've gotta head out, sorry again!”
Wonwoo smiles. “It’s fine. Good meeting you, Seungkwan right?”
Seungkwan smiles and nods.
“I’ll see you,” Wonwoo says.
Mingyu nods and somewhat violently drags Seungkwan away, and then bickers with him for the entire walk to the library. He’s too busy smacking Seungkwan to notice how Wonwoo watches with a fond smile, but it’s probably more of a pity smile anyway.
—
Later that night, he’s in bed, freshly showered.
His phone pings again as he’s drifting off. The notification tells him it’s from none other than Wonwoo.
Wonwoo
Hey, about the cafe today
Mingyu settles himself in to be told he’s a weirdo and his friend is a weirdo.
Wonwoo
I’ve been going to past few days after we met there because I liked the space
So if you ever want to study, I’m usually there around noon.
Just if. You know
Yeah
Oh god sorry I’m gonna sleep now
Mingyu laughs out loud, because he hears it in his voice, and the mental image of Wonwoo flustering himself is hilarious.
The invitation to regularly study is actually one he’s going to consider. If anything is going to motivate him to actually write, it’s the reminder that Wonwoo is three chapters ahead of him.
Me
Sure, maybe I’ll drop by
Wonwoo reads it and doesn’t respond, but Mingyu doesn’t mind. The guy isn’t much of a talker, anyways.
He locks his phone and tosses it to the other side of his bed, closing his eyes, and tries desperately to fall asleep.
He doesn’t.