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Rose Tinted | End OTW Racism

Summary:

“Well,” Tinn says, finally closing his biochemistry textbook shut, “do you remember tenth grade?”

“Yeah,” Gun smiles, “you used to wear those adorable round glasses,”

“I remember you calling them something else entirely,” Tinn mutters, “Nobita-glasses”

Or

You know what? Tinn in glasses supremacy. Gun agrees.
So will you once you read this fic.

Notes:

I wrote this 80% on call with hissoriki thank u bhaiyaa you’ve been indispensable!
All the medical school info is reliable and true.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Why don’t you wear your glasses more often?”

Gun’s voice is inquisitive, light and teasing. It makes Tinn frown regardless.

Exam season in medical school is not really a season; more of an ever-present climate situation. Only three months in and Tinn feels as though he’s drowning under the syllabi. Plural.

“You know why,” Tinn answers, poring over the HMP-shunt pathway one more time.

Glucose 6-phosphate becomes… 6-phosphoglucono-1,5-lactone which becomes…

“I don’t,” Gun says, dutifully handing Tinn a little blue highlighter when he asks for it, “you look so cute like this, would it be so bad if I want to see you in them?”

It’s nearing five am now, the room illuminated by the soft glow of Tinn’s desk lamp. He’s wearing an old, ratty t-shirt and shorts that may have a hole or two. 

He’s also wearing his glasses, having traded them for his contacts as the overnight cram session made his eyes dry.

They’re standard prescription, rectangular this time and Tinn feels the plastic dig into his nose bridge as he adjusts them under Gun’s watchful gaze.

Gun has taken to his boyfriend being constantly distracted with ease, letting dates become study sessions and hangouts become revisions. This also means that they find odd pockets of time to spend together.

Tinn had taken a small one bedroom flat opposite his faculty building for the first year, and Gun (who was in the dorms across the campus in the faculty of music) had taken it as a cue to practically move in.

Gun had an extra key to his apartment, which meant that Tinn would find evidence of Gun’s presence there even when he returned to an empty apartment.

It made Tinn smile, to walk in and see an extra plate in the sink, to find little sticky notes all over the room saying things like-


Don’t forget to eat!

Movie night tonite

Su su!

You can do this <3

There’s choco milk in the fridge 

I finished your shampoo sorry :(((

Do not finish Boys over Flowers without me!!!

 

“Well,” Tinn says, finally closing his biochemistry textbook shut, “do you remember tenth grade?”

“Yeah,” Gun smiles, “you used to wear those adorable round glasses,”

“I remember you calling them something else entirely,” Tinn mutters, “Nobita-glasses”

Nobi-Tinn, the voice of a past-Gun, echoes in his head. So embarrassing….

Hey! You remember that?” Gun grins, looking excited at the thought of Tinn remembering his teasing comments.

“Why do you think I switched to contacts?” Tinn retorts, moving to switch the desk light off and head to his bed and get a couple of hours of sleep.

He doesn’t see the grin on Gun’s face being replaced by a conflicted expression.

 

ᒡ◯ᵔ◯ᒢ

 

Tinn is mostly well liked in his year, known for being a part of the studious bunch yet popular for his good looks.

People close to him know that he’s seeing someone from highschool. People even closer to him know that he has a boyfriend.

“Tinn!” Prim waves, “we saved you a seat!” 

Tinn nods gratefully and weaves through the crowded canteen to sit with his batchmates. Prim and her girlfriend Apple were in his sub-group, and it had become common practice for them to save seats for each other.

“Hi Prim, Apple,” he greets, turning to glare at Time, “I thought you weren’t going to show up,”

Time was the first friend Tinn had made in college. They’d been seated next to each other in orientation week and hit it off. They now have a love-hate relationship born out of Time flaking on study sessions again and again. Time claims that Tinn needs to live a little, Tinn insists that he lives plenty.

“I decided to grace you all with my presence after all,” Time drawls, stretching his gangly limbs on the plastic chair.

“More like you want the notes from today’s haematology lecture,” Apple quips, laughing at Time’s betrayed look.

“I don’t feel appreciated enough,” Time complains, causing the other three to burst into laughter.

“That should be our line!” Prim insists, “besides, it’s not like you were sick, who’s house were you at last night?”

Tinn shakes his head and fishes his phone out. Spam messages, Instagram notifications, texts from his scrabble club group chat…

Oh? What’s that?

Live Band,” he reads out loud, “set up by freshmen from faculty of music,”

“Ooh,” Prim says, “you think your boyfriend will be performing?”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything yet,” Tinn wonders, “isn’t there an audition for this stuff?”

“He might’ve failed it,” Apple suggests, taking a bite of her roll.

“Besides,” Tinn continues, louder “he has regular gigs at the bars near the campus every weekend,”

“Whoa, your boyfriend is so cool!” Time exclaims, “how did he end up with a loser nerd like you?” He grins as he says it, clearly expecting everyone to join in on the bit.

The temperature around them feels like it has dropped by a good ten degrees. Tinn pretends to be more interested in his lunch even though his appetite has vanished. Prim and Apple hiss something to Time, mindful of Tinn being on the same table.

“He didn’t mean it, you know,” Prim turns to him as they reach the dissection hall.

“He did,” Tinn murmurs under his breath, “and he’s right,”

“Tinn, no,” Prim gasps.

Tinn tries for a smile, feeling as though he was made of plastic.

“Don’t worry about me,” 

 

ᒡ◯ᵔ◯ᒢ

 

Gun has been acting weird lately.

Well, not weird but definitely not normal either.

It all started when Tinn swapped his contacts for glasses one evening. It had been a long day, and the only person he expected was the delivery guy and his boyfriend.

Gun had frozen in the doorway to Tinn’s bedroom, eyes roaming over every inch of Tinn’s face. What had followed was probably the best make out session of Tinn’s life.

It didn’t stop there.

An extra long cuddling session, goodies from his Mae’s shop, extra kisses All.  The.  Time. Tinn also knew that all of these occurrences had something to do with him not wearing his contacts. 

Currently, Gun was peppering his face with kisses, tilting his glasses askew.

Gun!” Tinn said in between giggles, “it tickles!” 

“Is that so?” Gun cooed, hooking a finger under his chin, “then maybe, you need to stop being so handsome all the time,”

“You’ve been extra affectionate these days,” Tinn leans in for a peck, “any special occasion?”

Gun is quiet for a bit, smiling at Tinn like he needs nothing else in the world. Content.

“Ah,” he says finally, “I just realised that I don’t appreciate you enough,”

“You do,” Tinn replies, watching the way Gun’s expression turns sheepish.

“Yeah, I do now, but I didn’t in the past, right?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Your glasses!” Gun blurts out.

“My… glasses?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,”

“For what?” Tinn laughs, bewildered.

“I’m sorry I called you Nobi-Tinn,” Gun explains, “I don’t think you’re any bit like Nobita,” 

Oh. Oh.

“I am a loser nerd, though,” Tinn jokes, feeling horrified a second later as Gun’s eyes fill up with tears.

“Don’t say that!”

“Gun-“

“You’re not a loser nerd!” Gun yells, “You’re kind, smart and funny and I don’t like it when you say stuff like that!”

“I was just kidding-“ Tinn tries to say, only to be cut off.

“It’s not funny! You saying stuff like that- it’s not- I don’t-“

Gun inhales sharply, a stray tear sliding down his cheek. 

“I just wish you could see yourself the way everyone else does,”

They don’t talk a lot after that. Tinn wipes Gun’s face with a hand towel and holds him close as they fall asleep. Well, Gun sleeps but Tinn stays wide awake, staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

 

ᒡ◯ᵔ◯ᒢ

 

The next morning, they don’t talk about it.

The silence feels fragile as Tinn puts butter on his toast, the knife scraping over the bread. He makes an extra one for Gun by default, setting it in front of his boyfriend as he grumbles sleepily.

“There’s that live band thing from your faculty, did you audition for it?”

Gun shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. He looks like a disgruntled hedgehog, nibbling on his toast.

“It’s like an hour before my set at the Mirage bar, I’ll lose my voice if I do both at the same time,”

Ah,” Tinn nods, remembering that he needs to stock up on some throat lozenges and ginger-honey tea.

“Remember when, I sang at my senior’s bar and lost my voice?” 

“You sang for four hours straight without a break, all so that the music club could have instruments to play,”

Tinn remembers it in the hazy way one remembers all of high school. Following Gun to the bar, watching him perform for far longer than anyone should and then when he couldn’t sing anymore-

“You got up on stage for me,” Gun recollected, beaming, “when you sang for me, I felt like a gourami fish that had found water,”

“Yeah?” Tinn snorts, clearing the small coffee table up.

“You were like this prince, saving the music club from sinking,” Gun says, joining him at the sink, “I think that’s when I started liking you for real?”

Tinn looks at Gun, aware of how close they are, their hands almost brushing under the soapy water. He scooped up some of the foam and daubed it on his boyfriend’s nose. Gun yelped and Tinn took it as his cue to run.

Hey! Come here!

After a minute of chasing each other around the small kitchen, they sit down on the couch, stomachs aching from laughing so hard. 

“I love you,” Tinn says, looking into Gun’s eyes.

“I love you too, you menace,” Gun grumbles, eyes twinkling.

“I thought I was a prince?”

“Princes can be a menace too,”

 

ᒡ◯ᵔ◯ᒢ

 

Tinn wears his glasses to college on a Friday.

“You look nice!” Apple offers blandly as he walks in for the first lecture.

“I do?” Tinn points at himself.

“Who else would I be talking to, Ai’Tinn!” Apple huffs, offended.

“I think it makes you look… studious,” Prim decides, pointing a pen in his direction.

Tinn laughs, paying it no mind. He had tried to step out of his comfort zone for once, and he knew that what mattered most was how he felt about it.

The day went on slowly, dragging through the second half and almost torture by the last hour. Tinn received a few looks and compliments throughout the day, as well as a jibe from Time that he tried his best to ignore. He only cared for the opinion of one person (save for himself).

He walked back to his flat alone, dragging his feet in the vague direction of his building. Left foot forward, then right foot, then left….

Tinn!” A voice called out from a distance.

Tinn turned, a smile threatening to break across his face. He raised his hand in a wave. 

Gun ran towards him and into his arms with a gleeful cackle.

“You look so good!” He exclaims, hugging Tinn tighter.

Tinn feels his cheeks glow red. Gun’s chin hooks over his shoulder now, he observes, only a few months ago he would have to bend a little to have that happen. Tinn hums, settling into the hug as the summer sun sets in the background. His glasses dig a little on the side of his face but it’s alright.

When they finally part, Tinn reaches for Gun’s hand, lacing his fingers in with his own.

“Since my boyfriend looks so cute today, “I think dinner’s on me,” Gun announces, raising their hands together as though they’re the champions of the universe.

Tinn kisses him, slowly, patiently, eyes fluttering closed. Gun smiles into the kiss, parting when he can’t hold his grin back any longer.

Tinn swings their joined hands together.

“Lead the way, boyfriend.”



ᒡ◯ᵔ◯ᒢ




Notes:

I hope everyone liked this! I should also tell ppl who didn’t grow up watching Doraemon- being called Nobita was basically an implication that you’re a loser nerd. Lemme know what you think!