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In which Jeon Wonwoo Experiences the Reality of Dates Being Interrupted
“Soonyoung-ah,” Wonwoo calls, absently twirling a pen in his fingers. “I think I need help.”
“With what, babe?” The chair beside him rattles as Soonyoung literally drops into it (he’d been hanging from the ceiling seconds ago). The soft orange sleeve of his hoodie brushes against Wonwoo’s arm as he leans into his space. “Saving you? Saving the world? Saving you and the world?”
“Try Statistics homework,” Wonwoo says. His pen slips out of his fingers. Before it hits the ground, a threadlike web snatches it from the air, and the pen slingshots into Soonyoung’s hand.
Wonwoo turns to look at him, amused. “Show-off.”
“No, no,” Soonyoung says, his eyes curving into dark sparkling slits. He replaces the pen in Wonwoo’s grip, their fingers folding over each other’s. “Just being helpful.”
“Help with this and you’ll have achieved maximum utility,” Wonwoo says, cocking his head at his laptop screen.
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” Soonyoung bats his eyes at Wonwoo, and their gazes lock as Soonyoung’s wide grin turns embarrassed and Wonwoo’s face remains impassive. “Aaaargh, fine. You know how I suck at math, but whatever! I’ll help best I can before I cave and call Jihoon instead!”
Wonwoo leans back in his chair and watches his idiotic, earnest, wonderful boyfriend attempt to explain Statistics with the wrong technique entirely.
Truthfully, Wonwoo already knows exactly how to solve this question. It’s not his fault Soonyoung makes maths infinitely more joyful.
“...And that’s the answer, I think,” Soonyoung finishes, marking his final line of working with a flourish. “Er, I hope so. Well? Was that helpful?”
“Yes,” Wonwoo says, pushing up his glasses. “Thank you, Soonyoungie.”
Soonyoung brightens visibly at that. But as he studies Wonwoo’s face, his eyes narrow. “You’re trying not to laugh! I can tell,” accuses Soonyoung, his lips folding into a pout. “What—”
He breaks off as Wonwoo cracks a grin. “I kinda knew how to solve this already,” he says. “And that’s not the right answer.”
Abruptly Soonyoung yanks Wonwoo’s rolly-chair over to him, practically vaulting a leg over Wonwoo’s hips in one smooth motion so Wonwoo has a lap full of Soonyoung. Wonwoo doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to Soonyoung’s explosive displays of affection, if his pulse won’t kick into high gear whenever it happens. Probably not.
“Don’t make fun of me,” Soonyoung whines, poking Wonwoo’s chest with his finger. Mischief glitters in his eyes, in the tilt of his still-pouting lips.
“I would never,” Wonwoo says. He folds his arms loosely around Soonyoung’s waist.
“Hmmm. You’re lucky you’re so cute,” Soonyoung says, tipping forward till Wonwoo’s eyes cross trying to meet his gaze and their foreheads bump. “This behaviour would never be tolerated otherwise.”
“Not even this?” Wonwoo asks, pulling Soonyoung closer to kiss the pout off his mouth.
Maybe it’s a strange thing to feel when you’re only seventeen. But when Soonyoung smiles against Wonwoo’s lips, Wonwoo feels a little like he’s made it in life.
But only just a little, because life sometimes has other plans.
Soonyoung’s phone rings. Breaking away from Wonwoo, Soonyoung shoots a web to bring it into his hand.
“Shit, it’s Jihoon,” Soonyoung groans, patting Wonwoo’s chest in apology as he answers the call. “Whassup?”
Wonwoo tries to collect his breathing as Soonyoung listens and his head shoots up. “Oh, shit,” Soonyoung gasps. “Okay, okay, I’ll be there. Bye.”
“Everything okay?” Wonwoo asks him.
“There was a really bad bus crash at Banji-ro,” Soonyoung says, eyebrows furrowing. “I’ve gotta go help out, Wonwoo, we’re closest and the police and stuff are in a jam. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” Wonwoo says, ignoring the disappointed little flutter in his chest because people are literally hurt and in danger. “See you later.”
Soonyoung jumps off Wonwoo, presses a kiss to his cheek — skewing Wonwoo’s glasses off his nose — and leaps out of Wonwoo's window in less than ten seconds flat. Soon enough Wonwoo hears the telltale sound of his webs shooting and tearing as he swings away to be a hero—
Although Soonyoung doesn’t need to be half-spider for Wonwoo to know he already is one.
Alone in his room, Wonwoo faces the unforgiving, number-filled screen of his laptop and releases a small sigh.
In which Jeon Wonwoo Solemnly Swears to be Lowkey
Dating Soonyoung is clearly anything but boring. And that’s not even counting the superpowers.
Soonyoung’s a normal kid — well, to the unsuspecting eye, at any rate. He falls asleep in Mr. Kim’s class in his seat behind Wonwoo, passes Wonwoo in the halls, giggles with a scrunched nose when Junhwi makes an extremely unfunny dad joke. The only thing is that he also happens to be able to climb walls.
Is this what it’s like to date a celebrity? Wonwoo wonders — but that’s not exactly right either, because no one other than himself, Jihoon and Junhwi know that Soonyoung is an actual superhero, the Spider-Man who isn’t really a functional adult like everyone thinks but Soonyoung.
“Swear you won’t say a word to anyone about this,” Jihoon had said, fixing Wonwoo with a dark, intense stare across the table.
“Okay,” Wonwoo had replied simply.
A pause as they appraised each other, Soonyoung looking back and forth between them. “You know what swearing silence means, don’t you?” Jihoon said eventually, his small face perturbed. “You can’t tell your parents, your friends, and don’t even think about posting it on any SNS—”
“Wonwoo wouldn’t,” Soonyoung interjected indignantly. “No way! Do you doubt my choices that much?”
“Yes,” Jihoon and Junhwi said in unison. “But, Jihoon, I think he gets it,” Junhwi said, patting his shoulder.
Jihoon relaxed though his eyes were still pinched at their corners. “Look, Soonyoung’s identity is at stake here. Hell, he’s doing everything in his own power to keep this shit secret (“It is killing me!” Soonyoung interjected in the background). So his head is kind of on us.”
“I understand completely. You guys can count on me,” Wonwoo said, nodding his head.
“Oh.” Jihoon’s eyebrows went up. The look in his eyes turned monumentally more trustful. “Alright, then.”
“You got approval from the parents. So you’re one of us now,” Soonyoung cheered, looping his arm round Wonwoo’s shoulders. “Welcome to the Spider Circle!”
“I am not your father, Soonyoung,” Jihoon said in the background. “And we are not a circle of spiders. The only fucking Animorph here is you.”
“All metaphorical,” Junhwi assured him.
“You never know with Kwon Soonyoung,” Jihoon said.
“Jihoonie, you wish I could actually turn into a spider.” Soonyoung stuck his tongue out at a stone-faced Jihoon.
Wonwoo observed all this and digested it in silence. He’d never really talked to Lee Jihoon or Moon Junhwi before — their social circles were normally divorced, what with Jun and Jihoon being in Science club and Wonwoo in American Football.
But he thought he could get used to this, to Soonyoung’s friends. Of course Soonyoung’s arm warm around his shoulders made it that much easier.
“I still can’t believe Soonyoung wasn’t lying about dating Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhwi said to Jihoon.
Jihoon shrugged, and Junhwi’s mouth curled in an unexpectedly feline, wicked grin. “Maybe you have a chance with Seokmin after all.”
“Jihoonie, you know you want to,” Soonyoung crooned.
“Shut up,” Jihoon said, his fair skin flushing.
“Oh, Lee Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked. Both of them turned to stare at him. “I could introduce you, if you like.”
Now Jihoon’s neck was red too. “I don’t like him,” he hissed. “He’s just.”
“He’s really nice,” Wonwoo offered, when Jihoon didn’t continue. “And he’s one of our best linebackers. You’d have good taste.”
Soonyoung wiggled his eyebrows at Jihoon. “I’d say I have good taste, too,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek.
“This is not about me,” Jihoon coughed, folding his arms. “But anyway. Thank you, Wonwoo, for… attending this. Meeting adjourned.”
“Let’s play Mario Kart now,” Junhwi suggested, and this was met with universal enthusiasm.
In which Jeon Wonwoo Tells People Anyway (But Not The Arachnid Part)
So no one knows that Wonwoo's dating Spider-Man. But he doesn’t keep it a secret from the rest of his team and friends that he’s dating Soonyoung.
“Who was that guy you were with earlier, Wonwoo-hyung?” Seokmin asks him during practice one day.
“Oh, that was my boyfriend,” Wonwoo says, wiping dirt from his brow.
“Eh?” Seokmin’s face contorts into a comically shocked expression. “Wonwoo-hyung! This is huge!”
“Him?” Mingyu, within earshot, asks, raising an eyebrow. “The senior from Science club? No offence, hyung, but I thought he wouldn’t be your type.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “I like him a lot.”
“Awww. I think it’s cute,” Seokmin says, grinning.
“Going off what? Seokmin, you don’t even know the Science club that well,” Mingyu says.
Seokmin raises his eyebrows, his gaze going shifty-eyed. “Maaaybe I do.”
A beat of silence as both of them look at him. “Anyway, no way you know Kwon Soonyoung well,” Mingyu says eventually.
“Introduce us, Wonwoo-hyung,” Seokmin implores.
“I’ll think about it,” Wonwoo says.
“Yah, brats,” Seungcheol calls to them. “Less talking, more drilling.”
Some people would call Wonwoo popular in school, he guesses. And maybe it is surprising that Wonwoo would date a less high-profile guy like Soonyoung. But those people can go suck it.
Wonwoo appreciates his friends’ lack of judgment, truly. Something tells him that if his excitable junior Seokmin and even more excitable boyfriend Soonyoung get within two metres of each other, a catastrophic event like an explosion might happen.
It could be fun.
In which Jeon Wonwoo Reaps the Benefits of a Superpowered Boyfriend
“Wonwoo!” Soonyoung appears in front of Wonwoo’s desk as soon as the period bell rings, bouncing up and down. “Let’s go for lunch. I have something to ask you about.”
They’ve built a routine of sorts. When Soonyoung says to go for lunch, Wonwoo follows him to the deserted school stairwell at the back of the building and wraps his arms tight around Soonyoung’s neck. Soonyoung checks that the coast is clear before jumping out the window, swinging them up to the normally inaccessible school rooftop in a (very) illegal, stomach-dropping move. The roof is as quiet and romantic a place as any in school.
“What do you wanna do after we graduate?” Soonyoung asks as they eat their boxed lunches side by side, sitting cross-legged on the ground, leaning against the wall. “Do you have a plan?”
Wonwoo chews on a mouthful of kimbap. “I don’t know about a plan,” he says slowly. “Honestly I haven’t really thought about it. I know I like math, and I like football… It’s not much to work on.”
“What d’you mean? That’s plenty to work on,” Soonyoung breezes. “And it’s totally fine — we still have a year!”
“Stop. You’re sounding like my mom now,” Wonwoo says, grinning. “What about you then? What brought this on?”
Soonyoung deflates a little, picking at his noodles. “Mr. Park brought career counselling up in homeroom today,” he says. “And that got me thinking: what do I wanna do with my life? Then he talked about how we should start enrolling in prep schools for next year, and I got all depressed thinking about it.” His shoulders droop. “How is Spider-Man gonna help people if he’s studying? Am I gonna be Spider-Man forever?”
Wonwoo curls his arm around Soonyoung’s waist quietly.
“I don’t like studying. I love being Spider-Man,” Soonyoung continues, picking at a seam on his uniform shirt. “Life is hard.”
“I know. But like you said, we still have a year to figure some things out — and after that, our lives. You might love other things later on, too,” Wonwoo says. “That’s what my dad always says, anyway.”
Soonyoung thinks about it, his forehead creasing with thought. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. Wonwoo watches the trademark Soonyoung sparkle dawn on his face again. “If or when that happens I guess I’ll roll with the punches.”
Wonwoo pats his thigh.
“And I know one thing I definitely love now, too,” Soonyoung says, grinning at Wonwoo with a flushed face as a breeze blows his fringe across his forehead. Wonwoo feels his cheeks warm too.
“Oh,” Wonwoo says, swallowing.
“In case you were wondering it’s you, obviously,” Soonyoung says, easy as anything.
Holy shit. Soonyoung says a lot of things but Wonwoo wasn’t prepared for that in the slightest.
“But you know what else? I thought about it,” Soonyoung continues, oblivious to Wonwoo’s internal crisis. “I’m a spider, right? Like, totally. But you know, they aren’t even the animals I love the most.”
Soonyoung pauses expectantly as Wonwoo tries to (mostly unsuccessfully) regroup his thoughts. “Um. What are they, then?” Wonwoo asks.
“Tigers,” Soonyoung says, a wistful look in his eyes. “They’re orange and furry and sharp. Like… dangerous mouldy oranges, with ears and tails. I love tigers. If only the government had experimented with tiger genes instead. Then I might be a Tiger-Man!”
Wonwoo’s heard the spiel of Soonyoung’s origin story, though he wasn’t there to witness it himself — long story short, it mostly entailed Soonyoung being a bit of an idiot in a government facility on a school trip, to no one’s surprise.
“Well, tiger spiders exist, you know,” Wonwoo says thoughtfully.
Soonyoung’s mouth drops open. “You’re kidding. No way.”
“Way,” Wonwoo says. “They’re orange and black stripey spiders. My kid brother had an insect phase.”
“You’re so smart,” Soonyoung breathes, and yeah, a bunch of people have told Wonwoo that before but it hits so different from Soonyoung. His eyes shine earnestly at Wonwoo in a way that makes him feel like the best person in the world. “I’m making my costume orange and black now.”
Wonwoo laughs. “I think most people would think of a butterfly instead of a tiger spider if they saw that.”
“It doesn’t matter because you know and I know, and that’s all I need,” Soonyoung says, smiling squinty-eyed and irresistible, and something like that feeling — the L- word — swells in Wonwoo again like it always seems to with Soonyoung.
“For the record,” Wonwoo says, “you’re a tiger to me.”
Soonyoung’s empty lunchbox clatters to the ground as he surges into Wonwoo’s personal space like a bolt of lightning, his hands suddenly hot on Wonwoo’s neck. His lips taste of jjajangmyeon and salt.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Soonyoung pants against Wonwoo’s mouth, and they laugh into each other.
Kissing Soonyoung is like running a sprint against an unstoppable force. Wonwoo never thought much of making out, but when Soonyoung dares to nip a little at his lips like that, he thinks he gets what all the fuss is about.
“Your fingers?” Wonwoo manages, as they break apart for air.
“My fingers,” Soonyoung agrees, his face still flushed a brilliant red, eyes wide and dazed and adorable. Wonwoo wants to kiss him again. “They are indeed attached to my hands. They are indeed… attached to you oh my God,” Soonyoung groans.
“They’re sticky?” Wonwoo says. It occurs to him that, oh yeah, his boyfriend has spider powers.
“The only way to know if you’re kissing Spider-Man,” Soonyoung says with a hapless grin, attempting to unstick his fingers from the nape of Wonwoo’s neck. “When I get too, er, excited, this is what happens? I guess?”
The fingers don’t budge. “Ow,” Wonwoo says placidly.
“Fuck, sorry,” Soonyoung says. “Why isn’t… why aren’t you coming off?” he asks his fingers through gritted teeth. He slumps his forehead against Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Oops.”
“I don’t mind being stuck like this for a while,” Wonwoo says, smoothing his hand along Soonyoung’s waist with the ease of practice but no less thrill. “We can just wait.”
Soonyoung raises his head, his lip curled in a mischievous grin. “Or we could do… other things.” Already he’s leaning closer to Wonwoo.
In which Jeon Wonwoo Gets Kidnapped, Almost Scores a Touchdown, and Saves the School (But Not Necessarily in That Order)
Sweat is running down Wonwoo’s cheek; it itches badly, but his helmet prevents him from doing anything about it. It doesn’t prevent him from hearing any of the screams from the crowd, though.
This is the biggest game he’s ever played — they’ve come all the way to Seoul to play nationals in the biggest freaking stadium Wonwoo’s ever stepped foot in, the Super Bowl of South Korean highschool. Best (or maybe worst) of all, his parents are spectating too. It only sucks that Soonyoung couldn’t come with their school delegation of supporters.
The other team is insanely good. But Wonwoo’s a mere 18 yards from the end zone of the field, 18 yards from scoring the 6 points they need. They’re so close to victory that he can taste it, more than half his highschool training culminating in these precious few minutes.
He rushes forward, his runningback legs flying across the turf, the football clutched tight in his arms as chaos whirls around him, bodies and dirt and outstretched arms everywhere he looks. Wonwoo slips between them like a dolphin diving through waves.
“Wonwoo-hyung!” he distinctly hears someone, probably Seokmin, scream. “Go!”
Wonwoo keeps running, but suddenly from the corner of his visor he sees a flash, and then sound splits the air like an axe cleaving through butter. Time stops.
Literally.
Wonwoo feels it like a rip down to his bones, and between one breath and the next he’s not on the field anymore but suspended twenty metres in the air.
Shock keeps Wonwoo mum, makes him freeze up as his heart goes into hyperdrive. Wind rushes past his ears. The field is a green carpet dotted with the dots of players and spectators scurrying about. His breath comes in fits and starts; distantly, he realises he’s beginning to hyperventilate. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut and curl in a ball but wait — a man is holding him by the back of his jersey. What the hell?
“Oh, I just ruined your moment, didn’t I, kid?” the man says kindly, and for a split second Wonwoo is confused — is he a superhero? — before he sees the symbol on his chest. It’s a symbol he’s seen on news articles, on screenshots Jihoon sends their chat. Imagine if Soonyoung had to fight this fucker.
Hell no, Wonwoo had replied.
Fuck, no.
“You’re Key,” Wonwoo gasps. The masked man’s smile turns wide and arrogant.
“Damn right,” Key, defected hero, now supervillain, says. His white hair is still cropped short like when he was put in jail. “It’s nothing personal, kid. We just need to make a statement. Because we’re back.” Wonwoo registers that down on the field, another tiny figure is throwing out flashes of blinding light at the spectators that explode like bombs.
Wonwoo’s head feels light. This cannot be happening. Maybe he’s blacked out in the middle of the game and this is all a stress-induced hallucination.
“Put him the fuck down!” a very familiar voice screams. Yeah, Wonwoo’s definitely hallucinating because there’s no way—
Wonwoo looks and a flash of red and blue is flying toward them.
“Soon—” Wonwoo says, before he feels the grip on his jersey loosen and let go and he begins to plummet, a scream ripping his words away.
He collides painfully with the solid warmth of spandex and lean muscle that Wonwoo knows like the back of his hand now.
“Wonwoo, babe, I got you,” Soonyoung says, his voice frantic, arms wrapping around Wonwoo’s body as they swing away from Key. “Are you okay?! You hurt? I swear, if he—”
“I’m fine,” Wonwoo gets out, curling his fingers into Soonyoung’s suit. “How are you here?”
“We’ll talk later!” Soonyoung says. “Right now I gotta get you down safely. Close your eyes—”
He’s cut off by Key appearing right in front of them, his hands curled in a gesture. Wonwoo again feels that unnatural pull in his stomach of space-time ripping. Key gives Soonyoung a punch to the face and rips his web-thread. Suddenly they’re free-falling through the air.
“Soonyoung!” Wonwoo yells, panic flaming through him. Soonyoung recovers, shooting a web to one of the stadium lights and catching Wonwoo.
“Ow! I hate this guy!” Soonyoung says, properly incensed.
“He needs to stop teleporting or stopping time or whatever,” Wonwoo calls. “His hands!”
“Yeah!” Soonyoung snaps his fingers. In a blink he shoots another web at Key, binding his hands together. “Now he can’t!”
Soonyoung’s webs, according to Jun, have a tensile strength stronger than titanium. Key roars at them, struggling in the air fruitlessly against the sticky threads.
“He can fly, and he can stop time, but he doesn’t have super strength,” Wonwoo mumbles to himself. “God is slightly fair.”
“I used to look up to you! To SHINee!” Soonyoung yells up at Key. “Why did you leave and go all evil?”
Key just laughs at him. “Minho, blast the brat away,” he calls, looking behind Soonyoung and Wonwoo. His grin abruptly turns to a snarl.
“Kim Kibum,” the wiry man in white who isn’t Minho says. “Your childish rampage has gone on enough.” A power warps the air around him in a tangible weight, shimmering like waves of heat. Key is dragged down to the ground on his knees, obviously against his will.
“Holy shit it’s fucking Taemin-ssi,” Soonyoung whispers reverently beside Wonwoo.
At that very moment Key’s hands break free of Soonyoung’s webs, the threads snapping. But quicker than thought, Taemin immobilises them with his telekinesis before he can form any shapes with his hands to stop time.
“Hey, kid,” Taemin calls Soonyoung. Soonyoung jumps. “Another of those webs would be real helpful now.”
“Okay!” Soonyoung says, binding Key’s hands with webs again.
“You’ll always be weaker, Taeminnie,” Key grits out, barely raising his head under the force of Taemin’s energy.
Taemin doesn’t look at him. “Thanks, kid,” he says instead to Soonyoung. “You’ve done a lot. Make sure the civilians are safe. Don’t worry about Minho — D.O. has subdued him.” On the now-empty football field looms a large cube of opaque earth, a young man in black and thick eyebrows sitting on top of it with his eyes closed in concentration. Wonwoo realises that Minho is inside the cube, without access to the sunlight he manipulates.
“Yes— yes, sir!” Soonyoung salutes.
“Bring your friend with you,” Taemin says, looking at Wonwoo.
“His name is Spider-Man,” Wonwoo replies. “Don’t forget it. He’s a really good hero.”
Taemin’s expression turns surprised, then amused as Soonyoung splutters and bows beside him. “Spider-Man. Thank you for your service. We’ll be in touch.” His mouth sets in a hard line. “After I return the criminals to be tried in court.”
“Let’s go,” Wonwoo says to Soonyoung, tugging on his latex sleeve. They’ve both seen enough metahumans for one day. Soonyoung shakes himself and swings them away.
Later, when the dust has settled and the few casualties have been attended to — most of the damage done had been to the stadium and field themselves, and their friends and Wonwoo’s parents are all okay, thank fuck — Wonwoo meets with Soonyoung, now out of costume as they ride the bus. “That was not how I imagined making my Seoul debut, but thank you thank you, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung exclaims. “Taemin-sunbae is so amazing — wait, oh, my God, are you really okay?”
The frenetic concern in Soonyoung’s eyes makes Wonwoo want to melt, so he does, leaning against Soonyoung’s shoulder, releasing tension in his body. “Did all of that actually just happen,” he states. “Doesn’t feel quite real yet.”
“When Key had you hanging in the air, I was so scared,” Soonyoung says, clenching his fist. “And so angry. I know you hate heights.”
Wonwoo covers Soonyoung’s fist with his own hand. “It was kind of awful. But you were so brave, too. And you saved me and everyone else.”
“I almost could’ve not been here,” Soonyoung says. His eyebrows furrow.
“Which reminds me. How are you here? You said your parents didn’t—”
“I — haha — kind of lied? Because I wanted to surprise you after the game,” Soonyoung says, smiling uncomfortably. He makes jazz hands. “Surprise?”
“You dumbass,” Wonwoo says, warmth spreading through him as he slips an arm around Soonyoung’s waist. “Thank you. I am a little sad that you didn’t get to see me score a touchdown.”
“Yeah!” Soonyoung exclaims. “You were so, so cool. I just know you would have won if not for Key, argh.”
“It’s alright. We both got to be cool today.” Wonwoo settles more comfortably against the sweat-sticky crook of Soonyoung’s neck, closing his eyes.
“No, you — my wonderful, sexy-brained, hot, charming jock boyfriend,” Soonyoung says playfully, but Wonwoo’s already asleep before he finishes the sentence, lulled by the movement of the bus and the vibration of Soonyoung’s voice.
In Which Jeon Wonwoo Is Content
Life is pretty normal after that one day of craziness. Back home he does get calls from big Seoul news outlets asking for interviews about his experience being in the thick of action, his relation to Spider-Man, but of course he turns all of those down.
For a week straight at school Wonwoo gets asked variants of the questions wasn’t Key so scary! and are you friends with Spider-Man now?
“Yes, and no,” Wonwoo always replies, walking away.
On the flipside, Jihoon tells him: “I want to gather data points from witnesses of Choi Minho’s ability from that day. So I need to interview some of your teammates.”
“I know just the people,” Wonwoo says.
That’s how Wonwoo ends up sitting with the three members of the Science club, Seokmin and Mingyu at lunch. People give their table weird stares as they walk by. Wonwoo couldn’t care less.
“The light was really bright,” Seokmin says, waving his hands. “Seriously. And it all came from his hands.”
“Then he started shooting them into the sky and the stands, and they, like, exploded,” Mingyu adds.
Jihoon nods seriously, typing notes furiously on his phone. “Can you describe the explosions?”
“Oh, here, I took a video,” Seokmin says, giving him his phone. “What?” he says when they look at him strangely.
“Shouldn’t you have been focused on, I don’t know, running away?” Mingyu says.
“I’m kind of a superhero nut, too.” Seokmin shrugs, giving Jihoon an embarrassed smile. Wonwoo rolls his eyes internally.
“Yeah,” Jihoon says, looking as un-peeved as Wonwoo has ever seen him.
“Oh my God, get a room,” Soonyoung and Mingyu intone at the same time, then burst into laughter.
As their table dissolves into chaos — Seokmin and Jihoon red and protesting, Mingyu and Soonyoung high-fiving — Jun meets Wonwoo’s eye and gives him a conspiratorial eyebrow raise and nod.
Wonwoo grins back, satisfaction nestling in his chest as Soonyoung casually loops an arm round his shoulders.
In this way their social circles start to overlap just a little more. As Wonwoo predicts, the combination of one Kwon Soonyoung and one Lee Seokmin is detrimental to his hearing but makes him happy.
Soonyoung does get a call from the Heroes Association in Seoul as Taemin promised. “They offered me a — a contract?” Soonyoung says, squinting his eyes. “So I can go to Seoul and train to be a real hero. Oh my God, it says here: Taemin-ssi saw great potential in you. Great potential! I might pass out.”
“Congrats!” Wonwoo says, because that’s really huge, but he’s unable to stop the pang of unhappiness that he feels.
“Thanks,” Soonyoung says, but the sparkle in his eyes fades a little. “But that means moving away from school, and my parents, and you.”
“I’ll — I’ll be happy no matter what you decide. Honest,” Wonwoo says, and it’s the truth. “You’ve gotta do what you think you really want. Because I lo— love you, Soonyoung. And you have to be happy.”
“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung whispers, quiet as Wonwoo’s ever heard him, but his eyes shine with emotion that wants to overflow. Wonwoo’s blush deepens on his cheeks. “I’m really glad I met you. And I want to keep meeting you. So I think I’ll accept the contract if I want in the future, maybe. But not now.”
“Don’t do it for me,” Wonwoo is about to say, but Soonyoung shakes his head. “I think I wanna be a kid for a while longer. With you. And of course so I have other options in the future like Mr Park always says—”
Wonwoo kisses him, this tiger of a boy who’s crawled his way into his heart, roaring and laughing the whole time, and spun a web that he’ll never let go of.
Fin.
Appendix I. In which Lee Seokmin is Too Pure For His Own Good
“Soonyoung-hyung is hilarious, I love him,” Seokmin says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
Wonwoo’s ears are still ringing from the past twenty minutes. “I thought you would.”
“But now I can say you guys are really cute,” Seokmin smiles. “And you look all soft when he’s beside you. Ah, Wonwoo-hyung, you’re seriously too adorable.”
“Thanks?” Wonwoo says. It would be cool to brush him off and roll his eyes like Jihoon, but he can’t stop the blush that rises to his cheeks.
“Okay, but—” Seokmin cocks his head, the picture of innocence. “Why does Soonyoung-hyung call you babygirl?”
Wonwoo closes his eyes expressively. “I’m revoking your Jihoon privileges.”