Work Text:
It starts with Wonwoo’s glasses.
They’re sitting on Chan’s desk, nice and folded neat like Wonwoo always leaves them.
Chan’s getting dressed for work, tossing his white button-up over his shoulders. He starts from the bottom up, annoyed that he’s running late and this shirt takes forever to button.
“Channie, you should really wear an undershirt. It’s a white button up, you can see straight through it.”
Chan sighs, looking up from his buttons, now half-done. Wonwoo is laying on his bed, half asleep, eyes poking from under the blanket and blinking slowly.
“Can you hand me my glasses, by the way?” He asks. “I dunno why I left them all the way over there.”
For some reason the sight of them sitting there makes Chan pause. The way they’re folded neatly and placed carefully away from any other objects so as to not be touched, even if they were only supposed to be on the desk for a moment.
Some weird part of the back of his brain tells him to take out his phone. He opens the camera, and takes a picture of the image in front of him: the bottom half of his desk, strewn with pens and sheets of organic chemistry homework, the lone t-shirt crumpled on the floor in the background, the corner of his gray carpet peeking underneath, and the round glasses placed oh-so carefully on the space right between them.
He pockets his phone after, and brings the glasses to wonwoo, dropping a kiss on his cheek before flying out of the room to get to work.
—
About two months ago, Chan had been mourning his biology grade in the university library, when he first saw The Man He Would Become Obsessed With. At the time he hadn’t even noticed him, his head on the table and eyes closed as he listened to his friend talk his ear off.
“Chan,” Seungkwan says, poking him again. “Chan.”
“What?”
“It’s really not that bad. So you failed one test. It’s gonna be okay after you do the extra credit essay.”
Chan groans, and covers his face with his hands. “Just leave me alone to suffer.”
“What, so Mr. Handsome over there can put his textbook down and sweep you off your feet?”
“Who?” Chan murmurs, looking up finally.
Seungkwan giggles as quietly as he can in a library.
“Mr. Handsome a couple tables to your left. He’s so your type. Maybe you just need inspiration to come study— there it is.”
Chan won’t lie, it is rather inspiring. The guy has one of those brooding, sculpted faces with glasses that suit him well, and Chan can tell he’s tall. He’s even got a pair of gray headphones pulled over his ears as he scans his book. He’s— yeah, he’s Chan's type.
Seungkwan smiles at him in victory.
And so began Chan’s plight of studying at the library with seungkwan every other day, purely to see Mr. Handsome.
(“Oh, he’s wearing a cute coat today,” Seungkwan says as they sit down. Mr. Handsome doesn’t notice under his headphones.
And then there was the time Chan accidentally zoned out on the guy, only to be slapped to reality by Seungkwan.
Or the time Chan tried reading some classic literature book instead— which he’d noticed Mr. Handsome was usually reading. Not that the guy had noticed.
Or even when Seungkwan mercilessly teases him for half an hour about his crush on this random guy, even through it was his fault in the first place.)
Some four weeks in, Chan has to go to the library without Seungkwan. He spends the whole time flipping through chemistry textbooks, not really beginning his exercises like he should’ve. He only looks at Mr. Handsome once or twice, when he gets truly bored enough.
An hour later, Chan is half asleep on his notebook when he registers someone standing next to him.
It’s Mr. Handsome.
“O—oh,” Chan says. “Hello.”
“Hi,” the man says quietly. “I— noticed you came without your friend. Not that I’m trying to be weird. Just noticed.”
“Yeah he’s taking a practical exam right now,” Chan responds, baffled that the other had noticed them at all.
“Yeah. I honestly just wanted to take the chance to talk to you. I, um, am really nervous right now, but would you want to maybe get lunch? Or.. something?”
Chan openly gawks, brain grinding to a halt. “How— I didn’t even realize you ever saw me?”
“I, um, heard pretty much everything you guys were saying,” he murmurs. Chan wants to explode on the spot.
Mr. Handsome laughs lightly, posture relaxing a bit. “It’s a library. I think everyone here heard you guys, actually.”
Chan feels himself redden, and sputters, “God, I’m so sorry, um, my friend is so stupid, I’m just trying to do homework and he— oh my god—”
“It’s okay. Like, seriously,” the other interrupts. “I thought it was endearing.”
Chan’s voice fizzles out. “Oh.”
“Oh! And my name is Wonwoo,” he continues. “As much as I appreciate Mr. Handsome.”
This might be the most mortifying day of Chan’s life. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to find it as awful as he does— he even pulls out his phone to get Chan’s number.
Chan stops coming to the library after that. Not because he doesn’t want to see wonwoo— but because he doesn’t want to explain to Seungkwan that he embarrassed himself so hard he’d earned himself a date. Two dates. Three. A boyfriend, even.
He forgets to bring it up to Seungkwan, but everything becomes Wonwoo, after that.
—
On his walk home that evening, Chan munches on half of a chicken club sandwich he’d stolen from Mingyu at work. He scrolls idly through his phone, excited to go home and watch a new series he’d just started. He phone chimes with a message.
Seungkwan
Library today?
Mr Handsome is probably there
Chan laughs to himself. Wonwoo was nothing if not studious, but he really only goes to the library because it’s the only peace and quiet he could find to read on campus. It makes sense, he supposes, that he’d never actually seen Wonwoo do homework while he was there.
Me
Nah, catching up
on TV
But he knows that Wonwoo isn’t at the library right now. He’s at work, has been for the last few hours.
Seungkwan
Booo
Hes gonna forget about us </3
Me
That’s rough
Chan closes the app, opening Instagram and scrolling again.
It’s not that he means to hide it from Seungkwan. He really doesn’t. But now he’d have to explain that he not only knows Wonwoo, but had been happily dating him for a month already.
But maybe, he thinks as he watches Instagram stories, he doesn’t have to tell Seungkwan. Maybe if he just, you know, soft launches it on his Instagram, Seungkwan will come to him.
So he goes to make a story post, contemplating. He has a lot of pictures of wonwoo, laughing; eating, reading, sleeping. Nothing subtle enough, though.
He remembers that picture of the glasses from the morning. That’s perfect, he thinks, and taps on the picture. He adds a cute little tuesday sticker on the corner of the picture, and posts it. Satisfied with his extremely subtle post, he pockets his phone, and changes the direction of his walk to the cafe Wonwoo works at.
He walks in and it isn’t very busy, as is typical in the mid afternoon. Wonwoo greets him with a soft smile, and starts making Chan a coffee.
“I’ll take my break now since you’re here,” Wonwoo calls, and walks over to sit across from Chan, passing the iced drink to him.
Wonwoo goes about eating his avocado toast as they talk, idly scrolling through his phone messages to respond to them.
“Why’d you post the picture from this morning?” Wonwoo hums absently after a moment. “The one on your story.”
“Oh,” Chan says, remembering it now. “I'm soft launching you. I don’t feel like answering Seungkwan’s billion questions.”
“Soft… launching?” Wonwoo says, unsure.
“Yeah. Like, making subtle posts with the person you’re dating, to say hey there’s someone here without straight up saying it.”
Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows. “How does your post do that?”
“Cause it’s so subtle that it’s perfect. Like yeah, I wear glasses, but I don’t wear round glasses. I only have my clear rectangle ones. So if someone saw that and thought, like, ‘hm, whose could those be in Chan’s room if they aren’t Chan’s?’ You know?” Chan says thoughtfully.
Wonwoo doesn’t looks convinced. “Who is gonna notice that?”
“Seungkwan and my other friends. My angel baby darling, you don’t do the social media thing. It’s the subtlety. It’s the storyline.”
“Do you think people actually, like, pay attention to this? Like keep track of it?”
Chan giggles. “Anyone who’s bored enough to, maybe. I do sometimes. It’s like, lore.”
“ Lore ? Like what, like Evangelion lore?”
“Nerd— Exactly like that,” Chan sighs happily, and watches Wonwoo scarf down his toast become sulking back to work.
—
Mingyu likes his story. So does Junhui. The little notifications pop up on Chan’s screen as he glances down at the time. Seungkwan doesn't, though. He’ll have to try again.
They’re on a walk together, just after sunset. Chan swings their linked hands back and forth, chattering about work and school and television and whatever pops into his head. Wonwoo listens, of course, and chimes in when he feels like it. Wonwoo’s a listener, he’s learned.
Their stroll that night took place of a regular date, since both had late work days, and wouldn’t be free for a regular dinner. Now they wander the surrounding neighborhood, Chan playing music softly from his phone. It’s a playlist Wonwoo made for him.
They stop at a park, decorated with a slide and swing set. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating them, their shadows casted long and dark against the orange lights.
“Wanna rest here?” Wonwoo hums, nodding to the swings.
Chan smiles and perches on one, pushing himself off of the floor and swinging. Wonwoo sits on one too, but opts instead to just watch him.
When Chan gets his fill of the wind and feels maybe a bit dizzy from it, he slows to a stop. Wonwoo is sitting there next to him with a dim smile, watching him have his fun. God, Chan really likes him. It’s ridiculous, actually.
Chan stands from the set, wanders over to Wonwoo’s. He stands there neatly between Wonwoo’s spread knees, tipping his head up with his fingers.
“Thanks for this. Even if we didn’t go out out,” he says, a bit disoriented, still.
Wonwoo laughs with a huff. “Don’t have to go out out to spend time with you.”
Chan smiles, and leans down to kiss him. Oh, he really likes him.
Sometime later when they’re ready to leave, Chan takes his phone out again. He sees their shadows just across the floor, and thinks.
Then he’s opening Instagram, and taking a picture of the scene: the dark night, and the shape of two shadows on the floor, just barely, standing so close together they blend into one spot on the rubber playground floor. One might not even be able to tell what the shadow is.
He adds a sticker of 8:41 PM , and presses post.
—
Mingyu likes it again. Seungkwan doesn’t.
So Chan makes another plan, on the spot. It’s really a bit of quick thinking. Subtlety.
“Why are you thinking so hard?” Wonwoo asks. Chan clears his face, turning to look at the older boy. He’s just wandering over to where Chan is sitting, having gotten up from his gaming session on his fancy little dual monitor.
Chan waves his hand. “Turn back around. Play your little game.”
“I’m in between matches, that’s why I came over here—”
“No, like go sit down. I need a picture.”
“Of my back?”
“Yes.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow in suspicion, but listens anyway. He sits down at his screen again, hood pulled up over his head, slightly slouchy. Chan smiles at it, and takes a quick picture.
“Okay,” he chimes, “You can come back here and kiss me now.”
Wonwoo laughs, but again, listens.
Sometime later, he asks, “What was that for?”
Chan laughs into his chest, and says, “My soft launch, of course.”
—
He doesn’t post the picture. It’s a bit too head on.
The next morning, after Wonwoo has left to go use the restroom, he takes a selfie and posts that instead. The background, though, is the clean white walls of Wonwoo’s room, save for the few small posters and family pictures he has on the wall. He puts a good morning world tag on it, and when wonwoo walks back in, clicks his phone off and forgets about it.
Later on he’s in class, bored off his ass, when the text chimes.
Mingyu
Whose room is that u wild little kid
Me
Wdym I can’t have friends
Mingyu
No
You can’t
Me
:)
—
Seungkwan likes the post. He has to have noticed by now. He doesn’t bring it up, though, when they go to hang out that day. If anything, he just says cutie Chan as always about it, and goes about his conversation on molecular biology exams as they walk.
Chan supposes he just has to try again.
At dinner with Wonwoo that night, they get burgers from the fast food joint on Wonwoo’s street. Chan takes a picture of his food, and at the top of the image, just cut off, is Wonwoo’s hands picking up a stray fry. As if to say, hey! Someone is sitting across from me!
He posts it on his story, and gets a reply from Mingyu of just ‘um hellooo?’, but doesn’t even respond.
—
For someone who had initially aimed for subtlety, Chan is getting impatient. That one last night was super obvious— Wonwoo’s hands don’t look like any of their other friends’. For the sake of his own impatience, he’d even put the picture of Wonwoo gaming from a few days ago with a simple Saturday sticker.
Even Jihoon had liked it. Jihoon!
While he waits for his professor to stop droning on about due dates, he makes another post. This is the most active he’s been on Instagram in months, easily.
The post is three pictures: the first, a plain field of white daisies and tall grass he’d taken on a hiking date last week; the second, a picture of himself, laying in the field, taken from above and clearly by someone else; and the third, his scuffed black converse walking on a sidewalk alongside a pair of equally scuffed white vans.
He captions it, ah! love, and hits post.
—
“This is dumb,” Chan murmurs. Seungkwan had liked the post, commented pretty, and that was all. “I’m not even being subtle any more!”
Wonwoo laughs from beside him, sitting on the couch as a movie plays in the background.
“Why do you have to get him to go to you? Just tell him first,” Wonwoo says nonchalantly, eyes flicking back to the screen.
Chan frowns, looking down at his lap.
“I dunno. I just feel guilty, a bit, maybe. He’s my best friend, I feel like I should’ve just told him already,” he says, worrying his lip. Wonwoo stops him with a soft touch, attention back on Chan.
“You said it yourself, he’s your best friend. He might harass you about it for a bit, but he’s just gonna be happy for you,” Wonwoo replies easily. “The guy is a softie.”
“Yeah— yeah. I’ll suck it up and tell him tomorrow at lunch,” Chan sighs. “I guess you’re right. You know. Does this stupid post even matter?”
Wonwoo rubs a thumb across the other boy’s cheek, and says softly, “It makes you laugh. It makes you talk. It makes you smile. Why wouldn’t it be worth it?”
Chan raises an eyebrow, unsure. Wonwoo rolls over, and looks at him fondly.
“If it makes you feel better, I really like them. To be honest—,” Wonwoo pauses. “I save all of them when you post. And keep them in a folder on my phone. So I can scroll through them when I miss you— I like to imagine how you’d explain each one.”
He’s going to marry this man, one day. Chan’s brain fizzles out, and he pushes Wonwoo back onto the couch, and kisses him breathless.
His phone, untouched, dies somewhere in between them.