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He’s running late.
Wonwoo checks his watch and curses a little before quickly glancing at himself in the mirror for the nth time.
Reflected back at him is a face with dark circles under the eyes and unkempt hair at the top. He had spent a good 20 minutes trying to make himself look more presentable with no concealer or hairbrush in hand but to no avail. He looks as tired as before.
Fuck it, he thinks and rushes out of the bathroom.
“Hyung—, “Seungkwan starts as soon as Wonwoo arrives at their table in the library, but before he can continue, Wonwoo’s already taking his satchel from him and thrusting his unfinished Americano in his hands before bursting out through the nearest exit.
He has no time.
It had all started before his classes for the day even began. Immensely stressed by an essay due later at night and his obnoxiously loud flatmates, Wonwoo had decided to come to the library early in the morning before his class at one. Two hours into his furious typing and flipping through flowcharts and notes, his phone had buzzed three times. Still unprepared to take a break and check his phone, he ignored it. An hour before his class, Wonwoo had picked up the phone only to almost drop it.
There, staring at him, were three messages from Chan.
Hi hyung!
When are you free today?
I wanted to meet.
See now, the thing is—Chan and Wonwoo are friends. Wonwoo would call them good friends even. They joke around, sit next to each other at group gatherings sometimes, and attend each other’s birthdays and the like. But, they’ve never entirely hung out alone—just the two of them. It has always been either their whole friend group together or them and at least one other person. Never alone. So Chan wanting to meet Wonwoo, just Wonwoo, independently had made him want to throw up and his heart race simultaneously.
Seungkwan, who had joined him later in the library, had asked if he was okay, but the only noise that came out of him was a sudden hiccup, making him aware of his own situation. He was dehydrated (not having touched his Americano), looking absolutely crazy as if he hadn’t slept properly in years, his stuff was all over the place, and he was yet to reply to Chan (a trembling of the hands prevented that).
Hi!
I’m done with classes, so whenever!
Surely, he can skip classes today because, well, he thought, nothing more important than a beautiful, beautiful boy wanting to hang out with you (you aren’t sure if he’s calling you to hang out)
The response was immediate. Too immediate.
Okay!
Should we meet in the park behind
the engineering building at two, if you’re
okay?
Wonwoo checked the time. Forty minutes until that. Ten-minute walk to the building.
Sure!!
Sweet! See you there :)
Now, as he runs to the park, his glasses askew, his body sweating under the layers of his turtleneck and long coat, he thinks about the messages and is suddenly nervous.
They’ve never done this. What if he screws up and says something egregious, and Chan thinks he’s weird, and they lose all contact and—
Before he knows it, he's standing in front of the park, huffing and puffing. He scans around nervously before he hears a familiar ‘hyung!’ from his left, and oh.
There he is, the most beautiful and charming boy he knows, standing in all his glory, waving his hands and smiling his sweet smile. Wonwoo is no poet, but he can write pages now.
Chan wears a leather jacket with denim jeans and black boots. His hair, longer than before and straightened, framed his face perfectly. Wonwoo takes his time walking towards him.
“Hi, hyung”, Chan says.
“H-hi”
Wonwoo mentally beats himself for fumbling over a hi! Stupid.
But before he can say anything else, Chan is holding a bouquet of flowers in front of him, which he hadn’t noticed. “Here”, he smiles, “for you.”
“I asked Seungkwan, and he said you liked Sunflowers..so”, he adds shyly.
Months later, at parties and gatherings, their friends would ask Wonwoo how he felt. He’d simply reply with an ‘I was taken back and flattered’ because no amount of words will ever describe how it felt to have someone you’ve so hopelessly pined over for months give you your favorite kind of flowers, to have them smile at you with their rosy cheeks. It was everything for him and more.
For some time, he stands there dumbfounded with his mouth slightly opened, unable to respond.
That worries Chan. “Hyung, are you okay?” And then, “Wonwoo?”
His name said like that is all it takes for Wonwoo to come back to his senses, and when he does, he’s sure he looks like a fully ripened tomato.
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you so much. These are just so—“
Chan shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything, hyung. I-I want to ask you something.” Chan’s own face turns pink, and it’s an adorable sight.
“I wanted to ask if you want to go on a date with me someday? O-or today? Or if you don’t want to, that’s all good too! No pressure! I just want to ask….” Chan says, fumbling with the pockets of his jeans.
Wonwoo’s tummy feels fluttery. Are these those goddamn butterflies they always talk about? His heart beats rapidly as if he had just run a marathon, and he’s hot all over once again as if he wasn’t, to begin with. Then he smiles. Why not? Because it’s such a wonderful feeling to be liked back. Because affection is so lovely.
Chan smiles back at him, and soon they’re both laughing, some part shy, some part happy. “Should we get a cup of coffee and pastry? I know a place nearby”, Wonwoo says after a moment. Chan holds out his hand and says, “Lead the way.”
Chan’s hand is warm in his, and his smile is gorgeous. Ah, Lee Chan. Forever the charmer, Wonwoo thinks all the way.