Work Text:
Maybe Gunwook is being dramatic.
He’s more than used to not being the center of attention. In fact, there are times where he prefers it. Not often, but he doesn’t take the quiet moments for granted—like those rare lapses of silence in an otherwise round-the-clock rowdy dorm. They’re periods to read, to think, to breathe, and with his usual hectic daily schedule, Gunwook welcomes those moments with open arms.
But Gunwook is nothing if he isn’t greedy.
Call it a character flaw, he sees it more as a reminder—a reminder that he isn’t perfect. Not that he needs one, but when neck deep in a world that molds him to be someone he’s not, he appreciates the anchored traits that make him Park Gunwook the person above Park Gunwook the idol.
Perhaps greedy is a harsh word to use. Gunwook is kind where it matters; he can even accept the “self-sacrificing” verbiage when described by his peers without gagging at the praise. Putting others before himself is a common theme in his life, though not with complaints. He was raised with a strong heart, courtesy of his mother.
But my God, does greed strike him cold and unsuspecting.
“One of these days, you need to grow up.” Gyuvin tsks over the phone, and Gunwook can unfortunately envision his disappointed dad look. Gunwook can truthfully say he does not possess any more wisdom than he does to be disappointed in the first place, but bites his tongue.
Instead, he rolls his eyes, busying himself with drying his hair off from any leftover hotel pool chlorine. “I didn’t call you for a lecture. I called you to rant.”
Quite frankly, he didn’t have to call him at all considering Gyuvin’s room is only some doors down the hall from his. But Gunwook wasn’t exactly keen on letting anyone watch him stew in his own pestering thoughts. A phone call is his next best option away from judging eyes. And it seems like he made the right choice.
“And your rant was hard to listen to.” Gyuvin says, almost sighing. He has no right to when both he and Gunwook know the troubling lore behind his getting-together with Ricky. Gunwook sat through it all, because he’s a good friend. Where’s that same grace extended unto him? “You sound like a crazy possessive boyfriend. Except you guys aren’t even dating.”
Ouch, he wants to say, but Gunwook can acknowledge the truth even when it’s hard. Matthew owes him nothing, especially not the attention he oh so craves from him and him alone. So, really, Matthew can sit in the pool with whomever he likes for however long he pleases. It’s not like Gunwook expected him to leave when he did, nor did he assume he could read his mind and body when he was clearly brooding before he took his leave. No, of course not.
“Whatever, I don’t even care anymore anyway. He can do whatever he wants.” Gunwook plays pretend, because he sure as fuck does care a whole lot. But he’s dramatic and will get over it as per usual. This feeling isn’t new.
“Right, I’ll believe that. For your sake and mine.” Gyuvin scoffs, but thankfully changes the topic. Gunwook could feel himself beginning to suffocate in jealousy, and Gyuvin wasn’t exactly helping. “Are you gonna join us downstairs?”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay in tonight. I’m not that hungry.”
There’s a pause. Gunwook can tell where this is going. “Gunwook…”
“I’m fine. I’ll eat a big breakfast tomorrow.” Gunwook cuts him off with a shameless lie, dragging his feet towards his lonely bed for a night of wallowing. “I’ll talk later.”
Gunwook knows he’s spouting bullshit and Gyuvin can smell it through the screen. But anyhow, Gyuvin doesn’t bother pushing it. Gunwook can be as stubborn as a mule on his worst days. He simply bids him goodbye and reminds him to sleep on time ahead of their long day tomorrow—which is ironic, since Gyuvin’s sleep schedule is leagues worse than his.
Gunwook flops face first on his bed, starfishing with his limbs spanning out at each corner. It’s soft enough to hug him back pretty decently, but not enough to drown out all the noise. Matthew’s birthday present to him sits heavy on his bodice, but he wears it for the overwhelming blanket of comfort that he especially needs now. Like a pacifier to the gluttony he tries so hard to ignore. But a tank top gifted to him months ago can only do so much for his tortured mind.
Gunwook is aware of what this looks like: jealousy over someone he has no romantic ties with, offering attention to people who aren’t him. It’s greed at the highest level, and Gunwook can’t refute it. More specifically speaking, he’d been acquainted with Nicholas before today. He seems like a decent guy, but Matthew is so smiley and so touchy that he can’t overlook the one thing Nicholas has above him: history. Gunwook isn’t privy to all the details, but he knows enough to understand that Matthew and Nicholas go way back, while he and Matthew only share a full calendar year between each other.
Maki, bless his heart, had taken notice of Gunwook's sour mood pretty quickly and forced him into a conversation he wasn’t feeling up to. But Gunwook engaged anyway, as it was a welcome distraction from eyeing Matthew across the pool getting cozy with the enemy. Okay, he’s being dramatic still. But he can’t be blamed—Matthew has yet to text or call him since Gunwook abruptly announced his leave so he may as well be too engrossed with sweet, sweet Nicholas to care whether he lives or dies.
Gunwook groans and flips over to his side, facing the floor to ceiling curtained window that overlooks the entire pool area and then some. He isn’t curious enough to check if Matthew is still there, because the answer is most likely yes and Gunwook knows he won’t like what he’d see, even from the tenth floor.
So he lets himself doze off instead, eyelids laden with post-shower drowsiness and a fatigue that can only be explained by a yearning heart.
ꕤ
Gunwook can neither confirm nor deny being a heavy sleeper, but he’d been told he can sleep through an earthquake if it tore apart the very building he’s sleeping in. Survival show trauma hadn’t hit him too hard in that regard.
And yet, a few knocks at his door wake him up out of his sleep. And his heart lurches against his ribcage because the visitor makes himself known soon after. It’s a muffled voice, but Gunwook hears him clear as day.
“Gunwook? It’s Matthew. Can I come in?”
Gunwook panics. He feels silly for doing so—it’s just Matthew, the same Matthew he’s shared a bed with and he regularly clings to for his daily dose in teddy bear hugs. But they’d been fighting in Gunwook’s head all afternoon, so he supposes he should be mad at him, right? As crazy as it sounds, it makes sense to Gunwook. Matthew knows Gunwook needs his attention like a plant needs water, and he hadn’t indulged him. It’s borderline cruelty.
Regardless, he’d told Gyuvin he was over it, so he’ll act as such. Fake it ‘til you make it.
“Um,” Gunwook’s eyes dart around the room for the nearest mirror. Even if he doesn’t particularly wish to see Matthew right now, he still needs to look his best. No dried drool or sleep lines in sight. “Just a second!”
He looks a bit crazed, wide eyed and all, but he’s lenient on himself. He’d just rolled out of bed anyway. And realistically, Matthew won’t care either. He never has. He’s seen Gunwook at some of his lowest, after all.
Gunwook, in all honesty, would much rather stall and pick the lint out of his tank top, but he knows he can’t keep Matthew waiting for too long. He sighs, crossing the threshold before opening the door. Reluctantly, may he add.
“Hi,” Matthew lights up upon seeing him, and Gunwook almost wishes he didn’t melt from the inside as a result. He could never be immune to Matthew’s unintentional charm.
But Gunwook stands his ground, his face not faltering (he hopes). “What’re you doing here?”
He pretends he doesn’t notice Matthew’s smile falling ever so slightly. Gunwook is so obviously tense, and it’s throwing Matthew off balance. Rightfully so. He can only imagine what he’s thinking.
Still, Matthew regains his footing and answers anyway, slipping past Gunwook further into his room. “I was gonna join the others for dinner but I noticed you weren’t there and I got worried. Gyuvin said you weren’t feeling too good so I wanted to check on you.”
Matthew is well aware that if given the chance, Gunwook would choose having a roommate over rooming alone. So hearing the news that he decided that holing up in his very much empty room was a better option than being in the presence of the members must have been mildly concerning, at the very least.
“Oh,” Gunwook frowns. He feels a little better knowing Matthew was worried, but it’s not enough for his greed. “Well, Gyuvin lies a lot. I’m fine, see?”
He gestures to himself, despite knowing he probably looks the opposite with definite sleep still in his eyes and a firm lipped frown. Matthew stares anyway, his gaze heavy and unnerving. More so than usual. A quick once-over that could very much have lasted either five seconds or five minutes. Gunwook tries not to squirm.
But Matthew says nothing when his eyes reach Gunwook’s—just a noncommittal hum, maybe even a little incredulous. Tongue in cheek, Gunwook doesn’t react to his silence.
Matthew presses on after a couple awkward moments, but his eyes are still on him. “Why’d you leave earlier?”
“I was feeling tired.”
“That’s not what Maki said.”
That annoys Gunwook for some reason. Maybe because he’s already pretty irritated, or because of his understanding that Maki, who doesn’t know him from a can of paint, is making inferences about his life as if they’re best friends. It doesn’t help that, although he doesn’t pose as any sort of threat, Maki shares history with Matthew as well. History that Gunwook can’t compete with. It’s all just stupid. Stupid and annoying.
Gunwook lets his feelings show. Bitter above all else. “Maki doesn’t know shit about me.”
This, surprisingly, doesn’t deter Matthew. Perhaps he came more prepared than Gunwook had expected.
“But I do. I know you.”
Gunwook scowls. Yeah right, he so desperately wants to say. Not enough to tell when I’m pissed off, I guess.
But Matthew is his hyung, and Gunwook doesn’t let himself get emotional enough to circumvent age hierarchies. He settles for a “So what?”
Matthew stares again, wordlessly. But there’s a silent, burning fire this time that Gunwook can feel licking up and charring his insides. It’s hot in here, suddenly, and he knows Matthew can feel it too.
“Gunwook-ah,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. No; his eyes still burn an unimaginable heat. “Let’s stop pretending.”
It catches Gunwook insanely off guard. Especially so with Matthew closing in on him, inches and inches away with the same heat scorching him. It’s a miracle he doesn’t stutter when he asks, “What do you mean?”
“I said,” he stands far enough for Gunwook to breathe easy, but his low tone still lays a weight on his chest. He can asphyxiate like this, maybe. “Let’s stop pretending I don’t know how you feel about me.”
Yeah, Gunwook may as well choke and die. He wants to pretend that string of words didn’t actually leave Matthew’s mouth, but Gunwook is as smart as he can be sensitive, so he knows he can’t possibly dig himself out of this one. Denying is off the table, for sure. Not when Matthew’s looking at him like he solved the world’s easiest mystery.
“I—” He’s frozen, short-circuiting, even under Matthew’s sweltering gaze. “I don’t understand.”
Matthew laughs then. He laughs. Like, a hard, full belly laugh, one of those laughs he just can’t help himself from. Gunwook is, for a lack of better words, horrified.
“Oh, so you thought I was that stupid.”
His response would be an immediate no, obviously. After his own brother, Matthew is the smartest person Gunwook knows. But after today, a lot of thoughts came to mind, and they all fell back on him and what he lacks for Matthew to sideline him the way he did.
Now, in hindsight, he feels embarrassed, and Matthew’s disbelief isn’t softening the blow. He supposes it’s his fault for jumping to conclusions. But still.
“You really believed I couldn’t tell you were seething at Nicholas and I?”
Matthew’s holding him now—hands on either side of his blushing face. Gunwook, amidst everything, can’t rid the thought that this is just as he’d been waiting all afternoon for. But ten times better. One hundred times, even.
The shock settles a bit, at least enough for Gunwook to process. He scoffs, in disbelief himself. Matthew’s known this entire time. His heart can burst any moment.
It’s subconscious when his trembling hand lies flat on Matthew’s own, while leaning in close to his palm. Judging from the stars in Matthew’s eyes, Gunwook can tell he resembles a big ol’ dog right now. Scritches on the chin are in his future, maybe.
“Was I that obvious?” He has to ask, because sure, Gyuvin was able to tell from a mile away before Gunwook was even aware of his own feelings, and when he told Ricky, he wasn’t shocked either. Hao found out, naturally as his roommate, but it was more of a confirmation than a confession. Gunwook hadn’t told anyone else outright, but he’d be silly to assume some of the others don’t know. Hell, even Junhyeon knows, but Gyuvin is a blabbermouth, so it’s to be expected.
But he thought that, just maybe, if nothing in particular changed between them, Gunwook could keep Matthew in the dark as long as he needed to. Which probably would have been forever, knowing him.
“Painfully so, baby.” Matthew smiles, and that same fire is bright in its wake. He thumbs a shape right below Gunwook’s cheek mole. “Nicholas said he could feel you burning holes in the back of his head. But I can’t lie and say I wasn’t playing it up for your eyes. You made it too easy.”
Gunwook pouts. So he’s easy to rile up, noted. He takes that as a challenge, but he’ll let himself feel some shame first and foremost. He really almost jumped off the deep end because Matthew was giving attention to someone else. It’s kind of pathetic, but it seems like Matthew’s into pathetic if he’s clinging to him like this.
“So…” Gunwook cracks a smile, too, his other hand sitting pretty on Matthew’s waist. “The point was to piss me off?”
“The point was,” one of Matthew’s hands float downstream towards Gunwook’s chest, and he sweats through the one layer that separates Matthew from his bare skin. He feels like the room is spinning. “To see how much it’ll take for you to crack and confess like I’ve been waiting for you to.”
Somewhere else, Gunwook briefly wonders how long Matthew’s known, and how long he’s liked him back. Which one came first? Gunwook’s almost positive he has him beat in the waiting game, but something tells him not to underestimate Matthew, if his half lidded eyes and intoxicating heat are anything to go by.
Those questions will have to be left unanswered for now—Matthew leans close, impossibly closer than before, and Gunwook has to stop himself from drooling all over his hand.
He breathes, light across his parted mouth. “But I’m tired of waiting.”
ꕤ
“Gunwook isn’t answering his phone,” Hanbin says to no one in particular, but the others can hear his unease. They’d been spamming the groupchat to entice Gunwook into joining them, but their messages were left unread, which wasn’t an initial concern until Hanbin texted and called him separately, both to no avail.
“He’s probably asleep, I wouldn’t worry too much. Matthew would’ve told us if something happened.” Hao comforts Hanbin as he usually does. Sometimes he lets his leadership role weigh like concrete on his shoulders, more than he should. Hao is always there to ground him as needed.
Hanbin nods, though his frown hasn’t let up. “I know, but… maybe someone should go check on him? Just to be sure. This isn’t like him.”
Gyuvin side eyes Ricky, who’s already looking at him with the expectation that he’ll jump at the opportunity. The rest of the members have since retired back to their rooms, with Yujin nodding off in his seat and Ricky still eating his dinner. He wasn’t too hungry in the first place, but he couldn’t possibly pass up a night of indulging in Taiwanese food.
“Ugh, fine, I’ll go.” Gyuvin groans, relenting easily. He’s not exactly in the mood to go back and forth with Ricky, and he won’t admit it himself, but he too is a tad bit worried about Gunwook. He knows more than the others do—he hopes he isn’t spiraling too much in that hotel room, brooding alone. Knowing him, he probably spoke to Matthew through the door when he came to see him.
Hanbin’s entire mood shifts, eyes wide and grateful. “Thank you, Gyuvin. Let us know how he’s doing.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Gyuvin waves him off, already leaving his seat. The hotel is only a couple blocks away from the restaurant, so it’s not a long walk, thankfully. Not to mention the April weather is gorgeous tonight. Gyuvin wouldn’t mind if ten extra minutes were added to his journey.
He arrives at the hotel and makes it to the floor he shares with Gunwook. The corridor stretches in a wide span, and his eyes kind of burn at the sight of the repetitive carpet design. He reaches Gunwook’s room anyhow, not bothering to knock since he has his spare room keycard. They always have each other’s in case of anything, and Gyuvin knows he’d be waiting a long while at the door otherwise.
But maybe he should have knocked this time.
Gyuvin shuts the door almost immediately, cheeks flushed and burning. He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut. Yeah, that’s definitely permanently seared in his brain now. Great.
At least Gunwook figured his shit out. Whilst underneath Matthew, it seems. Hopefully they talked about it before jumping straight to fucking. He has some faith in Gunwook. He’s not the type to think with his dick, but Matthew really had him pinned down hard—
No. He didn’t see that. He didn’t see anything at all, actually. Gyuvin makes some distance between himself and that cursed room, wherever his feet will take him so he can have enough of a peace of mind to relay his message to Hanbin.
gyuvin
he’s fine.
but no one should bother him for the rest of the night
hanbin
thank you gyuvin :D you’re a good friend
“So if I was a bad friend I wouldn’t have been scarred just now.” Gyuvin grumbled, trudging to his room in hopes to find some bleach. Maybe room service has some.