Archive of Our Own ^beta

i. Thursday 

Chan scrolled through the comments in his latest article, which was an interview with the owner of the hottest dermatology clinic at the moment. 

As always, our Lee-nim has the best questions. 

Of course, I never skip any article written by Lee-nim.

I would only go to a clinic that has Lee-nim’s approval! 

Chan smiled to himself, satisfied. He exited the tab and opened his notes, skimming through them trying to decide which one would be his next article for the magazine. 

At least, until two people approached his desk. Seungkwan had an iced americano already halfway down and Jisoo had a coffee in one hand and a tea in the other. 

Chan sighed and made grabby hands at him, to which Jisoo laughed and handed him the tea. 

“You're welcome,” he said as Chan sipped from the takeaway cup. 

“Thanks, hyung,” he said around the straw. “Seungkwan-ah, how was your date?” 

Seungkwan made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes dramatically. “Awful. The guy was awful, full of himself, didn't even let me talk, he didn't even offer to pay the bill, he tried to take me to his house, mind you it was a first date.”

“That's because you have terrible taste in men,” Jisoo said. 

“What about that Hansol guy, from tech support?” Chan asked, typing on his computer. “He seems nice.” 

“Seungkwan doesn't do nice, that's his whole problem.” 

Seungkwan rolled his eyes before sipping on his coffee. “I don't date in the office. Not everyone wants messy breakups in their place of work.” 

He sent a pointed look at Chan, who only adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

“And yet I still have the love advice column.”

“Which sucks,” Seungkwan whined. “I followed all your advice and it was disastrous anyway. I want a refund.” 

“You don't even pay for the magazine,” Jisoo laughed. 

“For emotional damage, then.” 

Chan pondered while his friends bickered in the background. He snapped his fingers as the idea struck. 

“Maybe because I've been writing the wrong advice,” he said, opening a blank document on his computer. 

“Well, yes,” Seungkwan said, peeking over his shoulder. “That's what I'm saying.” 

“No, no,” he swatted a hand at Seungkwan, who scowled. “I mean, let's give it a new spin.”

Jisoo leaned in too as he wrote a new headline on the top of the page. How to lose a guy in ten days or less, guaranteed!  

Both Jisoo and Seungkwan sent him similar skeptical looks. 

Chan sighed. “The main problem with a lot of men is that they don't know how to take a hint. They never back up, even when you say no. So,” he mimicked a billboard with his fingers, practicing his pitching-for-the-boss voice, “here's the perfect way to make him back off and have fun in the meantime.” 

“You talk as if you weren't a man.” 

“Well, my audience is mostly straight women,” he shrugged. “Also, sadly, I date men.” 

“That won't work,” Seungkwan shook his head. “You don't know how to suck on first dates. That's why everybody hates you.” 

“Wrong, I'm super lovable,” he quipped good-naturedly. “But you're right. I should do some field work.” 

Jisoo snapped his fingers. “We got that brand event, tonight,” he said. “Want to make it fun?” 

“I'm listening.” 

“Seungkwan and I get to pick your test subject tonight, you don't get any veto,” before Chan could protest, he raised a finger. “If you manage to pull this off, Seungkwan will go on a date with that Hansol guy.” 

“Huh?” Seungkwan said, his eyes opening wide. 

Chan clicked his tongue. “I don't see what I win in that scenario.” 

“Don't you want your best friend to be happy?” 

“Emotional manipulation, I see,” Chan replied after a sigh. “Fine.” 

Jisoo and Chan shook hands as Seungkwan frowned at them. 

That's how that same night he found himself in his fanciest suit, the one he knew made him look good, smelling like cologne and his hair carefully styled in a way that seemed effortless. 

It didn't take Chan long to find Jisoo and Seungkwan in the crowd, both with a drink in their hands and scanning the room. 

“Took you long enough,” Jisoo said as a waiter served him a glass of champagne.

“I like to make an entrance,” Chan replied, looking around for any familiar faces. 

“Are you ready for our little bet?” 

“First, let's set some ground rules,” Chan said before sipping from his glass. 

“You are no fun,” Seungkwan booed. 

Chan ignored him. “First, it has to be a complete stranger,” he said, one finger up. “Second, you are not allowed to intervene.” 

“Fine,” Jisoo replied, a glint in his eyes that only meant problems. “But you are not allowed to dump him, he has to dump you.” 

“Fair enough,” Chan shrugged, the first lines of his article already in his mind. “Okay, let's see what we got.” 

They faced the crowd again, leaning against the bar as they sipped from their drinks. 

“What about that one?” Seungkwan pointed at a guy in an animal print tie who was enthusiastically talking with their editor chief Jeonghan. 

Chan shook his head. “That's Kwon Soonyoung, from the Horang blog. I once helped him research dance studios around the city for an article.” 

“And that one?” 

“I drink tea with Xu Minghao once a month since he was featured in an article about his art gallery last year.” 

“Fine. Is there someone here you don't know?” 

“Hum,” Chan scanned the room, but as every other event he attended on behalf of the magazine was filled with people he knew. The industry was small and to thrive contacts were needed. He had a hefty list of contacts on his phone, sue him.

“Aha,” Jisoo said finally, his eyes narrowing when he smiled. “That one, with the glasses.” 

He was pointing at a guy not very far from them, his gray suit clinging to his shoulders perfectly and his hair styled back, leaving his forehead in the open. He had long legs and graceful fingers and was wearing thin metal-rimmed glasses. 

He was hanging out with two other guys that were vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place them, especially now that the lights were dim and people were approaching the dance floor. 

One of the guys had his arm hanging from his shoulder and was saying something to him, clearly trying to make himself heard over the music. Glasses looked around the venue until his eyes found Chan's. He smirked and glasses raised an eyebrow. 

“He's cute,” Chan said, suspiciously.

“He is. Sad that you don't get to keep him for more than ten days.” 

Ah, of course. That was Jisoo’s diabolical plan all along.

“Alright,” he said, pushing himself off the bar and adjusting his suit jacket. “Game on.” 

It was a long week for Wonwoo. 

He had to deal with one of the most annoying models ever known to mankind, and he had to be nice to them lest his job was on the line. 

So, he might as well kick Wen Junhui in the mouth if he kept annoying him. 

He usually didn't drink but he considered it as he tried to tune off Junhui's constant rambling. This time, not even Jihoon was on his side as he smirked at Wonwoo's annoyed expression. 

“Stop being such a party pooper,” he said.

“I had to listen to a model bitch all day long,” he complained. “I don't want to listen to you now.” 

“Right,” Jihoon said. “You've been assigned the worst models recently.” 

“Yes, because Wen Junhui won't ask for me to photograph his articles.” 

“You always say no!” 

“Because you say I'll owe you a favor, and you always ask for the craziest ones!” Wonwoo defended himself. “I don't want to drive you to the next town over on a work night just so you can try a new hot pot restaurant.” 

“Ah,” Junhui sighed dreamily. “It was worth it.”

“Because you slept the whole time while I drove,” Wonwoo pointed. Junhui's smile only grew bigger. 

“Fine! I'll ask for you in my next article but you have to do something, for the laughs.” 

“How is this different from owing you a crazy favor?” Wonwoo asked, incredulous. 

“C’mon,” Jihoon quipped. “For the laughs.” 

“You need to stop encouraging this behavior,” Wonwoo said as the familiar weight of Junhui's arm fell on his shoulders. 

“Over there,” Junhui pointed vaguely towards the bar with his glass, “is infamous bachelor Lee Chan, from Carat Magazine.” 

“Alright,” Wonwoo said, feeling lost. Junhui rolled his eyes and raised his voice to match the music playing loudly. 

“He never dates for the long haul,” Junhui explained. “He has only one-night stands and they never hear from him again. So I have a proposal.” 

Wonwoo located said infamous Lee Chan in the crowd. He was leaning against the bar while sipping on his drink and talking to two other men. He was wearing a perfectly fitted suit and he was dangerous in the sense that he knew how attractive he was. Wonwoo's mouth went dry. 

“So what?” he asked, his eyes still on the other man. 

“If you manage to date him for a whole week- no, let's say, ten days, I'll ask the boss to assign me with you for a year, no favors owed.” 

Lee Chan saw him in the crowd and locked eyes with him for a second. Then he smiled, an edge of danger on the curl of his lips. Wonwoo felt his own ears heating up. The other man pushed himself from the bar and started making his way to them. He felt the panic bubbling in his stomach. 

“Deal,” Wonwoo said, completely taken over by the mysterious charm Lee Chan exuded as he navigated the crowd. 

Both Junhui and Jihoon raised their eyebrows in shock, but Wonwoo was too enthralled to notice. He pushed Junhui lightly and tried to push past people, certainly not as successfully or gracefully as one Lee Chan, whose mere presence seemed to be enough to have people part to make space for him. 

“Alright,” Soonyoung materialized beside Junhui and Jihoon, glass in hand and a toothy smile. “What did I miss?” 

“It's either,” Jihoon replied, his eyes still glued to Wonwoo's back, “Jun's best idea to date, or his worst one.” 

Junhui shrugged. “Yeah, at this point is anybody's guess.” 

Wonwoo had to bury his elbows in some guests' ribs as he tried to reach his destination, people were too stubborn and drunk to make way for him, no matter how polite he was in his haste. 

The party was getting to its high, which not so coincidentally was the usual time Wonwoo would leave the place altogether. He didn't care about that at the moment, though, as he finally stood in front of Lee Chan. 

The other man was shorter than him but he had a broad back. He could appreciate a trim waist even under the suit jacket. The colorful party lights bounced on his perfectly styled hair and the loud music made him dizzy. 

His lips curled in a smirk that made Wonwoo's legs weak in the knees. Like he knew the effect he had on him, he raised a perfect eyebrow and placed a perfect hand on his arm. 

It looked like everything about Lee Chan was perfect. He promptly forgot about Junhui's challenge. Something in his core was telling him that it was meant to be, that they had to meet each other that night. 

Or maybe he was just horny. The possibility was split 50/50. 

“Hey,” he said, his canines looking dangerous from up close. “My name's Lee Chan.” 

“I know,” Wonwoo replied. Chan's eyebrows furrowed but his smile didn't falter.

“Oh,” he said, amused. “Do you?” 

Wonwoo felt like kicking himself. He needed to regain control of his basic neurological functions quickly. 

“Yeah, you write for Carat Magazine,” his brain supplied, and he silently thanked Junhui for feeding him that piece of information. If he didn't die from sheer embarrassment after this interaction, he'd start paying more attention to his fellows in the industry. 

“You're playing with an advantage here, I feel,” he said, his hand finally letting go as he pocketed it. Wonwoo felt suddenly cold from the loss. 

“Jeon Wonwoo, I'm a photographer for Bittersweet Magazine,” he replied and Chan's smile got more playful.

“Oh, a rival,” Chan's eyes flickered to where his friends were and recognition flashed in them. “Do you know Kwon Soonyoung-ssi?” 

“Yeah, we went to school together.”

His eyes came back to Wonwoo and he ached in a strange way. He wanted to be the sole focus of those sharp, intelligent eyes. 

“Do you want to ditch your friends?” he asked, offering a hand, palm up, inviting. Ready for Wonwoo to take. 

He felt his lips curving up and Chan's smile faltered for a second but it immediately went back to normal. Wonwoo would have missed it if not for the fact that he was paying the utmost attention to him. 

He took his hand, it was warm against his skin. It felt tiny between his fingers so he held it tight. 

Chan guided him across the crowd and through the entrance gates. 

Wonwoo's grip was firm and Chan almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He guided him outside and the chill night breeze messed up his hair. 

Under the street lamps, he examined Wonwoo better. He was cute, cuter than he originally thought, in a nerdy and awkward way. 

He pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and Chan smiled, adjusting his grip on his hand. 

Wonwoo was looking at him with the stars reflecting on his glasses and like Chan was something otherworldly. It made something in his belly burn. 

“What do you want to do now?” he asked, feeling suddenly dumb. He was usually an expert on making people swoon but he was now in complete uncharted territory. 

Thankfully, Wonwoo didn't seem to think anything of it. He seemed to consider his options before turning again and looking at Chan.

“Are you hungry?” 

That's how they ended up sitting in a 24-hour diner, a five-minute walk from the event venue, tucked in a corner like it was forgotten from the world. 

The waitress greeted Wonwoo with familiarity and even cracked a joke about the suit he was wearing. She also eyed Chan with undisguised curiosity before pointing to a table in a far corner. 

As they sat, Chan peeked at the menu, noticing how Wonwoo didn't even spare it a second glance. He left it on the table as soon as the waitress asked them their orders. 

“Your usual, Jeon-ssi?” she asked.

“Yes,” Wonwoo replied, and they both turned around to look at Chan expectantly.

“Make it two,” he replied. 

The waitress disappeared through a door that Chan assumed was the kitchen. Wonwoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a barely-there smile.

“What?” Chan asked, hearing his smile in his own voice. “It seems you are familiar with the menu, I will trust your judgment.”

“I stand by my food choices,” Wonwoo said. 

In the short time the waitress came back with two bowls full to the brim with kimchi jjigae, Chan was able to obtain and catalog a few facts about Jeon Wonwoo.

He was three years older than Chan, already in his thirties. He was a fairly new photographer for Bittersweet Magazine, previously having worked as a freelancer for years. He learned that he had dark eyes that sparkled under the harsh white lights of the diner and that he had the ability of, whenever their legs brushed under the table, sending a shiver down Chan's spine. 

Chan was almost sad that Jisoo had picked him. Their chemistry was undeniable as they ate their food. Wonwoo was, for lack of a better word, perfect. He was a gentleman and he balanced the conversation perfectly, talking about himself but also paying close attention to whatever Chan had to say. He had big hands that didn't shy from reaching for Chan's over the table when they finished their meals, playing with his fingers absently as they spoke. 

If it had been any other night, any other person, Chan would be already calling a Kakao Taxi to bring them both to his place. But, alas, he had other pressing matters at hand. 

So he had to make peace with the fact that he was about to ruin whatever could have happened between them as they exchanged numbers on the sidewalk while Chan waited for a car to arrive to take him alone to his apartment. 

Chan indulged anyway, sue him. In the end, he figured he deserved something real out of the whole exchange, a sweet memory for when it was over. So, as his car rounded the corner, he threw his arms on Wonwoo's shoulders and stood on his tiptoes. Wonwoo was surprised but he recovered quickly, placing his hands on Chan's waist. His grip was firm. He noticed when his eyes drifted to his lips and that was the only push he needed to close the distance between them and kiss him. 

Wonwoo's mouth was warm, just like the rest of him, and Chan had to pitch in with every ounce of his will to stop himself from dragging him to the backseat of his car. Instead, he had to be satisfied with a call me mumbled against his lips and watching him through the car's window as the driver pulled out. 

When Chan stared absently at his computer's starting screen the next morning at the office, he was still thinking about the kiss and the way Wonwoo waved him goodbye from the sidewalk, still handsome even under the unforgiving street lamp. 

His phone was burning a metaphorical hole in the pocket of his slacks, but he refused to take it out. He didn't need to, anyway. He had already memorized the text Wonwoo sent as soon as the taxi was out of his view. 

I had a really good time tonight. Are you free tomorrow after work? 

He pushed away every feeling of excitement as Jisoo and Seungkwan approached his desk. It was infuriating how well put together they both looked, even when he knew how late they had stayed at the event drinking.

“So, how was it?” Jisoo asked, forgoing all niceties. “Did he already leave screaming for the hills?” 

Chan rolled his eyes. “It was nice, I'll have you know.” 

“Nice?” Seungkwan asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Aren't you trying to make him leave you?” 

Yeah, Lee Chan, he said to himself. Aren't you?  

“I need to charm him first,” he said. “You know, to honor the fairness of the challenge.” 

Both his friends sent him unimpressed looks before his phone chimed in his pocket. He fished it out to find Wonwoo's name on the screen along with an address to a restaurant. 

“See?” he said, showing the screen. They both leaned in to look. “For me to scare him off, he has to want to see me first.”

“Sure,” Jisoo said. “The fact that he was hot doesn't have anything to do with it.” 

“Couldn't care less,” he smiled. “Seungkwan, do you want me to give your number to Hansol already? So we can save some time.” 

Seungkwan stuck out his tongue before placing his bag on the cubicle next to Chan's. It made him laugh out loud. 

ii. Friday 

Chan made sure he arrived at the restaurant first. He gave himself a once over on the glass window, undoing a few buttons of his shirt and arranging his hair to look effortlessly in place. 

In his scale of restaurants, this one had a perfect score for a first-maybe-second date. It wasn’t incredibly fancy but it didn’t look too shabby. 

“Excuse me,” he said, stopping a waitress in her tracks. 

“What can I do for you?” she asked in her customer-friendly voice, looking tired. 

“I’m so sorry to inconvenience you,” Chan felt the tips of his ears burning in anticipation of what he was about to say. “I have a date here tonight.”

“Okay,” the girl said, confused as Chan didn’t continue his sentence. 

“I’m trying to scare the guy off because-” He checked his watch. “It’s a whole thing. Would you be our waitress and let me be really rude to you?”

She blinked at him owlishly. Chan reached for his wallet and pulled a few bills. The girl finally reacted as she snatched the bills from him and pocketed them. Chan noticed the glint of mischief in her eyes. 

“Sir,” she said with a smile, “I’ll give you the performance of a lifetime.” 

And with that promise, Chan ran off to hide in a department store nearby, constantly checking his watch until he deemed it was well past fashionably late and just plain rude late. 

Wonwoo was already sitting by a window when he strolled to the restaurant like his hands weren't sweaty in his slack's pockets.

He stood up when he saw Chan. He was clearly nervous, it made Chan feel absolutely miserable. Like the worst human being that had ever walked the earth. 

As he sat down in front of him, he toyed with the idea of spilling everything to Wonwoo. He seemed eager to get to know Chan and he was about to feed him a bunch of lies. He seemed decent enough, he probably didn't deserve to be his target. 

“I was worried you weren't gonna make it,” Wonwoo said with a chuckle that tried to mask something else. “Got caught up with work?” 

“Just… stuff,” Chan shrugged, making a point not to apologize for his tardiness. 

The waitress he had talked to before located him from a distance and winked at him before approaching their table.

Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, confused. He opened his mouth to say something else but the waitress interrupted him. She fished a small notebook from the pocket of her uniform. 

“Hello, my name is Hana and I'll be your waitress tonight,” she said with a dazzling smile. “I can take your drink orders if you haven't decided on the menu yet.” 

Chan scanned the menu nervously while Wonwoo ordered some fancy red wine that he knew already he wouldn't be able to stomach. 

“I'm ready to order,” he said from behind the menu. 

“Oh,” Wonwoo said, politely. “Okay.” 

“I'll have the steak. Rare, please.” 

The waitress, Hana, noted it down before looking at Wonwoo expectantly. 

“I'll have the ravioli,” Wonwoo replied, handing her the menu. 

She smiled and excused herself before making her way to the kitchen. 

The small talk was dreadful. Chan tried his best to seem uninterested in Wonwoo's stories from work, even if on the inside he was so curious and wanted to ask so many questions. And whenever Wonwoo tried to get something out of him, he tried to be vague, like he didn't care to have a conversation at all.

It was painful, and he could tell it was for both of them.

Thankfully, Hana came around with their food and placed it in front of them.

Wonwoo dug in, probably to have an excuse to seem occupied with something else. Chan followed suit as he cut into his steak.

He scanned the room until he made eye contact with Hana. She came like she was strolling through a field of flowers. 

“What is this?” he asked, pointing at the plate in front of him. 

She looked confused. “That's your order, sir.” 

“I didn't order this, it's disgusting,” he blurted. He could feel Wonwoo's eyes on him and his stillness. “I don't want raw meat.” 

“But, sir, you asked-”

“Is this even edible?” He poked at it exaggeratedly with his knife. “Are you trying to give me botulism? I asked for a well-done steak.” 

“Chan,” Wonwoo said from across the table.

Chan looked at him and he felt awful. Despicable, even, with the way Wonwoo was looking back at him. 

“I'm so sorry,” Hana said, making him tear his gaze from Wonwoo to look at her. “I'll take it back to the kitchen.” 

To his absolute dismay, and Wonwoo's if his face was proof enough, her eyes welled up with tears as she scrambled to pick up his plate. 

Chan almost broke character, the apologies already piling up in his throat when she left with the steak he had, indeed, ordered. His eyes followed her all the way to the kitchen to avoid Wonwoo. 

“You should apologize to her,” he said. His eyes weren't sparkly and his smile wasn't there anymore. 

Chan took a deep breath. “She got my order wrong.” 

He could see Wonwoo was debating with himself whether it was worth it to get into an argument with him. Maybe he was searching for an excuse to cut short their date. 

Chan took a swing from his glass and he almost gagged when the alcohol hit the back of his throat. He would kill Jisoo for putting him through it. 

Luckily for him, Hana came back with a new steak, placed it in front of him, and apologized profusely again. Chan noticed her nose was red and her eyeliner smudged. He'd had to come back later to give her another hefty tip because she wasn't lying about giving the performance of a lifetime. 

The dinner was ruined anyway. The food tasted like ash in his mouth and the conversation was barely there. They mostly ate in silence. He felt like his skin was trying to crawl out of his body. 

By the time they were done, Wonwoo paid for their meals and apologized to Hana for any inconvenience. Chan noticed the tip he gave her and at least that did something to ease up the weight on his shoulders. At least she got a good deal out of it, he thought. 

They walked out together and when Chan gave her a last look, she smiled another big smile and gave him a thumbs-up. That at least made Chan smile a little. 

Wonwoo, ever the gentleman he seemed to be, waited with him on the sidewalk for his taxi to arrive. He had his hands buried in his pockets and didn't make any move to get close to him. It wasn't like Chan could blame him.

“When are you free again?” Chan asked, smiling like they just had been on the best date of their lives. He was waiting for a lame excuse from Wonwoo and then expected a well-mannered but final text saying it had been nice but it was over. 

“I have a shoot tomorrow,” Wonwoo replied. “And Sundays are game night with my friends,” Chan tried not to make his smile too evident. “We can do something on Tuesday night.”

“Oh,” Chan said, feeling like there were two people inside him, one disappointed and one elated. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great, I’ll call you then,” Wonwoo said, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips before he closed his door like the perfect gentleman he was. 

Chan couldn't wipe the confusion out of his face. It got even more pronounced when Wonwoo sent him a goodnight text when he was counting on being on his blocked list at this point. 

iii. Saturday 

Seungkwan looked at him incredulously.

“You made a girl cry and he still wants to see you again?” 

“That was my exact reaction,” Chan said as they strolled through the mall. It was a perfect sunny day and he had tea in his hand from his favorite boba shop but it didn't work in washing over the weird feeling. 

“Maybe it wasn't a red flag for him because he's like that too,” Seungkwan tried, biting on his straw. 

“He was really nice to her. Apologized profusely on my behalf and everything,” Chan sighed, defeated.

“Maybe he's into that kind of stuff?” 

Chan scrunched up his nose. “He seemed really uncomfortable.” 

“It doesn't make sense,” Seungkwan said, crossing his arms before his chest. 

“That's what I'm saying! He should be completely done with me, I mean blocked and praying we don't ever come across from each other done.” 

“How will you look at him again?” 

“Hopefully, I won't for long,” Chan said, checking his phone. He had a few texts from Wonwoo already. He sighed before pocketing it again.

Seungkwan pursed his lips and Chan knew he was doomed. There wasn't much he could keep from his all-knowing eyes. Especially when he was on a caffeine kick. 

“Are you sure it's worth it?” He asked. “You seemed to like him that night.” 

“Nah, it's ruined, anyways,” Chan avoided the question as he kept his eyes trained anywhere as long as it wasn't Seungkwan.

Then he saw him. Not very far, with a pair of huge headphones over a hoodie pulled over his hair, eyeing a computer supplies store, here he was. Hansol, from tech support. 

Chan latched onto the opportunity as one does with a lifeline after falling off board. He gasped exaggeratedly, and Seungkwan looked around in panic. 

“Isn't that your boyfriend?” he asked, pointing at Hansol like he wasn't a hundred percent sure it was him. 

Seungkwan's eyes got even rounder as Hansol turned around and saw them there, standing like two idiots in the middle of a mall. 

“Oh, God,” he said, gripping at Chan's arm. “Hide me, quickly.” 

He welcomed the conversation switching gears dramatically, away from all the embarrassing facts that he wasn't trying to admit, not even to himself. That he was sad because he liked Wonwoo and, that first night, Wonwoo seemed to like him back. And, as Jisoo playfully pointed out already, he would never be allowed to have him. 

“You don't even know him, why would I-” 

“Turns out I spoke to him yesterday when my computer decided to crash down on me and he fixed it, he was very nice- Oh, no, Chan-ah, he's coming over here, do something.” 

Hansol was, indeed, waving at them. Chan returned the wave with a strained smile even though Seungkwan was clawing at his arm. 

“Try acting like a normal human being, holy shit, are you okay?” he whisper-shouted, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy in his demeanor. 

Hansol finally made it, greeting them with a small smile. It did not fly over Chan's head how he looked at Seungkwan. And maybe his own love life was in shambles but he would not condemn his favorite person to eternal doom alongside him. 

“Oh, look at the time,” Chan said, feigning looking at the time on his phone while deliberately ignoring Wonwoo's texts. “I gotta run, I have this thing. Remember, Seungkwan, that thing?” 

Seungkwan sighed in relief. “Yes, of course, we should run.” 

Chan put a hand on his chest as he tried to follow him. “But you haven't found what you came searching for.” 

He made a show of checking his phone, trying to make it seem he had very important business, and to avoid the daggers Seungkwan was sending him. 

“No worries,” Hansol shrugged, hands in his pockets and calm demeanor. “I can help you find it.” 

He really was a nice guy. 

Chan clapped his hands together like he was relieved. 

“Would you? You are such a lifesaver, really!” 

He didn't give enough time for anyone to reply, already walking backward to the exit and almost running away as soon as he could. When he was at a safe enough distance, he made sure Hansol wasn't looking his way and blew a few kisses at Seungkwan. His friend flipped him off before focusing again on Hansol. 

Chan patted his own back mentally as he exited the mall, headed for the nearest subway station to come back home. He was already writing his article in his mind with the newest developments from their botched date. 

iv. Sunday 

Jihoon furrowed his eyebrows as Wonwoo recounted the events of his last date with Chan. 

“He doesn't seem like a great guy,” he said. 

“It's weird,” Wonwoo replied, plugging the extra joysticks into his console. “He didn't seem like that at all when we first met.” 

“Maybe it is some sort of personality disorder,” Junhui said, a finger tapping the side of his face like he was thinking hard. 

Both Jihoon and Wonwoo decided to ignore him. 

“I know the guy,” Soonyoung said, a hand buried deep inside a bag of chips. Sour cream flavored. “He certainly was normal around me.” 

“Dump him,” Jihoon said, leaning back into the couch like he had just solved humanity's biggest problems. “Pass me the Coke.” 

Wonwoo retrieved a six-pack from his fridge and placed it in front of Jihoon, who immediately opened a can with a satisfying noise. 

“You guys are so boring,” Junhui counterattacked. “Guess you'll have to endure working with awful people for the rest of your life.” 

Wonwoo bit the inside of his cheek, playing with the buttons of his joystick as everyone picked a character for a Mario Kart game. 

“Stop bullying him into dating a douche,” Jihoon kicked Junhui's shin without taking his eyes from the screen. 

“Don't say my junior is a douche,” Soonyoung protested, selecting Princess Peach as usual. “I don't know what his deal is, but he isn't a douche.” 

“He made a girl cry.” 

“I'm telling you, there's something fishy…” 

“Yeah, his manners!” 

Wonwoo wasn't about to intervene and Junhui thrived in chaos so the only thing that stopped Jihoon and Soonyoung was the doorbell. 

“That must be the chicken,” he said, standing up with a groan and padding to the door. He grabbed his wallet from the tiny table in the entrance hall and opened the door without even checking the doorbell camera. 

He almost dropped the wallet when he saw that standing in front of him, like an apparition, was Lee Chan. 

“Hi,” he greeted, a bright smile hanging from his lips. He had what seemed like ten grocery bags balanced in his hands. 

“Chan-ah?” Wonwoo asked, as it wasn't obvious that yeah, Chan was indeed at his doorstep. His voice came out high-pitched and slightly strangled. Chan's smile got bigger. Wonwoo cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I'd drop by,” his eyes wandered behind Wonwoo, where he knew he could see the back of his couch, “bring you something for you and your friends,” his eyes came back to Wonwoo and he pouted. Wonwoo felt his cheeks heating up. “And I missed you.” 

Finally, he regained his motor functions and opened the door wider, gesturing for Chan to come in. He looked at him like in a trance as he gracefully kicked off his shoes and walked in as if it wasn't his first time at Wonwoo's place. 

“Chan?” Soonyoung asked as soon as he saw him, looking immediately at Wonwoo who could only shrug, as confused as him. 

“Ah, hyung,” Chan said, and something close to a grimace flashed for a second in the downturn of his lips. But it was gone so fast that Wonwoo thought he might have made it up. “Pretend I'm not even here, I'll be in the kitchen.” 

Jihoon, his lips slightly parted in confusion, pointed in the direction of the kitchen and Chan disappeared behind the door with another smile. 

Every head in the room turned around at light speed and his friends started whispering furiously. Wonwoo raised his hands trying to prove his innocence. 

“I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” he promised. He was feeling suddenly inadequate in his sweatpants and comfy but stretched t-shirt. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Chan came out of the kitchen. Everyone shut their mouths, the Mario Kart music disruptively loud. He was carrying what looked like fifty-five plates in his hands, almost like an octopus. Wonwoo identified carrots and something green that dangerously resembled some sort of vegetable. 

“I bought some healthy snacks,” Chan said, acting like he was in his natural habitat even under the scrutiny of four very confused men. 

He clicked his tongue and snatched the chips from Soonyoung and the can from Jihoon. 

Soonyoung looked at Wonwoo with the biggest pleading eyes that ever existed. Jihoon followed the trajectory of his can in Chan's hand as he materialized a water bottle and placed it in his open hand. 

And just like that, in a whirlwind, he disappeared behind the kitchen door. Junhui snickered behind his hand. 

Before anyone could strangle him, Wonwoo followed Chan's steps into the kitchen.

“Hey, Chan?” he asked wearily as Chan kept taking out healthy food from his grocery bags on the counter. 

“Hm?” Chan hummed, without taking his attention from his task at hand. 

Wonwoo lost his train of thought, looking at him in some sort of fake domestic light. He looked so different from the other times he saw him, in baggy light blue jeans and a plain t-shirt under a white shirt that hung open from his shoulders. 

He was so, so beautiful. Wonwoo couldn't resist himself after examining his profile so he sneaked his hands on Chan's waist. He leaned his weight on his chest, his head perfectly fitting in the space between his chest and his shoulder. 

In some place in his mind, Wonwoo could see himself and Chan in that same kitchen, unloading groceries and cooking together, dancing to a tune only they could hear, and kissing with only the countertop to support their weights. 

Only if he wasn't, well, you know. Kind of insane. 

Chan turned around between his hands and wrapped his arms around Wonwoo's shoulders. Unable to resist it anymore, and seeing the way Chan was eying his lips, he leaned in for a kiss. Chan's mouth was warm and he was plyiant under his touch, opening his lips for Wonwoo to take. 

It was a short kiss, all things considered, and it left Wonwoo wanting for more. 

“What were you about to say?” Chan asked, licking his lips. Wonwoo's eyes trailed the movement of his tongue. 

And, yeah, right, he was about to say something. That's why he followed Chan to the kitchen in the first place. 

“Right,” he said, trying to gather the words less likely to hurt him. “Don't you think that maybe this is a little too much?” 

“What do you mean?” Chan asked with a confused smile. He cocked his head to the side, making it even harder for Wonwoo to focus on his words. 

“It's not that we don't appreciate the thought,” he said, “but you could've asked before coming?”

Chan dropped his arms from his shoulders. His eyes got immediately glossy. Wonwoo panicked. 

“I mean,” he tried to say, saying what he didn't know. Anything. But Chan cut him off. 

“No, don't worry, I get it,” he said, in a tone that didn't match his words at all. 

He stomped out of the kitchen, leaving the door open. The voices of his friends cutting off abruptly snapped Wonwoo out of his stupor, so he marched outside only to find Chan picking up all his carefully picked snacks from the table while talking to himself. 

“All I wanted is to help you have a healthier lifestyle,” he was saying in between sniffles. 

All his friends were looking at Wonwoo like he had personally kicked their pets. 

“Chan, you don't have to-” 

“No, really, it's fine,” Chan replied, dumping a plate of unsalted crackers onto a plastic bag, dish and all. “I just wanted you to live a long life but I guess I overstepped worrying about you.” 

Wonwoo gaped. 

“That's very considerate of you,” Soonyoung said, shrugging when everyone looked at him. He looked as confused as the rest of them. 

Chan turned around to look at Soonyoung, who tried to make himself smaller under his gaze. “Thank you,” he said, tone firm. “It is considerate of me.” 

“Let me explain,” Wonwoo tried, even though he wasn't sure he had anything to explain. 

Chan sent him the dirtiest look someone could muster, he was sure. Wonwoo clasped his mouth shut. He recollected as much as he could with only the Mario Kart music as background noise. No one dared to breathe too loud. Finally, he deemed his work enough and marched to the front door without another word.

Wonwoo followed him to the door. Chan put on his shoes before adjusting his grip on his plastic bag and opening the door. 

He turned around and faced Wonwoo again. There was something strangely odd in his eyes, a glint of some sort that Wonwoo couldn't quite place. 

“I understand if you don't want to see me again,” Chan said solemnly. 

Wonwoo was about to open his mouth to wish Chan a good life and thank him for whatever he could think of in a pinch, but he closed it when Junhui's annoying smirk materialized in his mind. 

He took Chan's free hand in his. It was warm and it fit perfectly inside his. Chan looked at their linked hands between them and blinked a few times. 

“I want to keep seeing you,” he said. Somehow Chan's face fell even more. 

“You do?” 

“Yes,” Wonwoo replied. “I'm sorry I wasn't considerate of your feelings. I promise I'll be better.” 

Chan looked at him like he had grown a second head. 

“Hum,” he said. “Okay. Yes, let's keep seeing each other. I'll call you later?” 

Wonwoo leaned into Chan's space to place a barely there kiss on the corner of his mouth. Chan turned a cute shade of pink before saying goodbye and dashing his way to the elevator. 

When he was back in his apartment, he found Soonyoung and the chips, Jihoon and the Coke, and Junhui munching on a baby carrot that had been forgotten on the coffee table. 

“He is kinda weird, you should leave him,” Junhui said, biting the carrot like he was a bunny. 

“And letting you win? Never,” Wonwoo replied before sitting again on the couch and grabbing his joystick. 

The doorbell rang, making everyone jump on their seats. Wonwoo approached the door like one does a caged feral animal before checking who it was. 

“It's just the chicken delivery,” he called, grabbing his wallet. He could almost hear a collective sigh of relief coming from the living room before he opened the door. 

v. Monday 

Chan poured soju on his beer glass, well aware of his sour expression.

Jisoo and Seungkwan eyed him concerned as they munched on the snacks the waitress had put on their table a few minutes before. 

“I just don't get it, why wouldn't he leave me yet?” he complained. 

“It's the first time I've ever seen Chan having this problem,” Seungkwan said, mockingly. 

“Yeah, such a grievous conundrum,” Jisoo added. “A cute, although maybe a little deranged guy won't leave you alone even when you are a red flag in human form.” 

Chan gave them the stinky eye. 

“We wouldn't be in such a conundrum if you weren't both asses.” 

“We?” Jisoo pointed out with a devilish smile. “Sounds like it's you.”

“I didn't do anything,” Seungkwan counterattacked dignifiedly. 

“You had those puppy dog eyes and were complaining about a bad date. What was I supposed to do?” Chan felt his ears and cheeks heating up due to the alcohol. “Offer some friendship pact of marrying each other if we're both still single by the time we turn thirty?” 

Seungkwan snorted. “Could you picture that?” 

“No,” Chan whined, downing his drink in one big gulp. “Can we go back to the matter at hand?” 

“Like how Seungkwan scored that Hansol guy with barely any help?” Jisoo patted his back and Seungkwan had the gall to look bashful. 

Chan felt like banging his head against the table. He needed new friends. 

“Noooo,” he said, higher pitch and stretching the vowels, trying to play the maknae card that usually granted him what he wanted. 

Jisoo at least looked apologetic. 

“You could just drop the article.” 

Chan sighed. “I already pitched it to Jeonghan,” both his friends winced in sympathy. “He loved it.” 

“Yeah, then, you're fucked,” Seungkwan patted his hand over the table in consolation. 

Jisoo poured everyone a drink. Chan actually dropped his head on the table, still holding his glass tight in his hand. 

He had to come up with a plan to annoy Wonwoo badly enough that he finally finally would dump him. And he had to come up with it fast.

“It's just weird to me,” Soonyoung said, playing with a little decorative ball in the break room. 

“You aren't even that close,” Jihoon said, his eyebrows raised. “How could you know he isn't clinically insane?” 

“I'm just saying that there's gotta be something else, he isn't like that,” he insisted, making Jihoon sigh. 

“What are you even doing here?” Wonwoo asked. “You don't work here.” 

“He's my consultant for an article I'm working on,” Junhui replied, half his face buried in a cup of ramen. 

“I'm defending my dongsaeng,” Soonyoung said, indignantly. 

“It isn't like Wonwoo is about to dump him,” Jihoon rolled his eyes. 

“Dump him,” Junhui said, or at least tried, around a mouthful of noodles.

“You wish.” 

“Competitive asshole.” 

“Yah,” Soonyoung intervened, pointing a finger alternately between Jun and Wonwoo. “You better not mess it up too badly or else I'm coming for you both while you sleep,” he clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes. “I don't want to stop talking to him because you two are messy when you get into arguments.” 

Jihoon whistled, impressed. “Can't believe I'm saying this, but he's right. I feel sorry for the guy. What if he develops feelings for you, Wonwoo?” 

He batted a hand like it wasn't a big deal, like something in his chest wasn't constricting under that thought. “He won't. It's fine.”

Everyone looked at him skeptically. Wonwoo thought that it would certainly be ironic that the one time he wasn't trying to keep someone around, it would end up being the one person who actually wanted to be around. 

He wasn't so sure if he could keep his promise to Soonyoung and not make it easy, at the end of it. 

vi. Tuesday

Chan bounced on his heels, trying to keep the chill from the night breeze at bay as he waited for Wonwoo to make it. 

He checked his watch once again and sighed. He wasn't even late, Chan was just anxious. From the entrance, he could hear the noise from the bats hitting baseballs at full speed. It was strangely relaxing, in a way, the rhythmic thud whenever the wood connected with the balls.

Chan adjusted his cap over his head, trying to keep his fringe out of his eyes. 

Finally, a hand found his waist and when he turned around he had Wonwoo standing next to him. 

He, as unfair as always, looked amazing. Chan would have to find the worst possible birthday present for Jisoo after being personally victimized by him and his choosing the perfect man for the worst occasion. 

Wonwoo leaned over and something fluttered inside Chan's chest, thinking he was about to get kissed, but instead, Wonwoo flickered his cap with an amused smile. 

And sue him, Chan couldn't help but be endeared about the way he pursed his lips when he smiled like he was telling a joke only they knew. 

“Aren't caps to protect your eyes from the sun?” 

“Shut up, hyung,” Chan said, like a petulant child, adjusting it again. He only realized the nickname slipping from his lips when Wonwoo's smile got wider, this time showing his teeth. 

He didn't say anything, though. He just offered his hand and a raised eyebrow. Chan accepted the hand and Wonwoo intertwined their fingers as he guided him inside the batting field.

As Wonwoo signed them up for a cage, Chan looked around and took it all in. The cages lined up, the machines throwing balls at full speed. The few people still hanging around. 

Wonwoo pointed out their cage and handed him a helmet and a bat. He soon had to face a feeling he didn't encounter often: he sucked. And, to add insult to injury, Wonwoo was good. Very good. He didn't miss a single ball.

He soon forgot he was supposed to be playing a part, too focused on trying not only to hit the ball but also not letting the ball hit him, but at the same time doing his best not to instinctively dodge every time a ball was shot his way. 

It was all a very delicate matter and he didn't have the mental bandwidth to act like he should be behind bars, on top of it. So maybe the mask he had carefully crafted fell and he allowed himself to be there, in the moment. 

“Hyung,” Chan whined, his hands trying to grab the baseball bat as he was supposed, “this can't be your first time.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “My friend Jihoon likes to come by from time to time. He says it's good for stress.” 

“I think I'm more stressed now,” Chan mumbled to himself. 

Wonwoo chuckled before standing behind him. He felt his ears getting warmer. 

“Can I?” he asked softly, even when he was so close Chan could already feel his body heat. Because of course, Wonwoo was a gentleman and he always asked, he was annoyingly perfect like that. 

Not trusting his voice, Chan only nodded. Wonwoo's hands found his and guided him to the correct way to hold a bat. Chan could feel all the points of contact as his skin was on fire. 

Then he flushed his chest against Chan's back and he tried to coach him into the correct stance to hit a ball with his gravely voice in Chan's ear. It was like someone turned off the switch as he didn't catch a single word of whatever Wonwoo was saying, he could have been reciting the Communist Manifesto and Chan would have been none the wiser. He was only aware of the way he felt like he was about to throw up his own heart on the dirt floor of the batting cage. 

“Now you try,” Wonwoo said, letting go and taking his body heat with him. Chan shivered unintentionally. 

Thankfully, some part of his brain had tuned in to whatever Wonwoo was saying, so when the ball came full speed for him, he was able to hit it. It wasn't great, but at least he wasn't trying to dodge it instead. It was progress. 

Chan punched the air and Wonwoo cheered behind him. When he turned around, feeling like his smile may split his face open, he saw Wonwoo with his cheeks rosy, his glasses catching the field lights like they were stars, his eyes crinkling with a smile and he couldn't think of one single valid reason not to kiss him. 

So he dropped the bat which fell to the floor with a soft noise that got drowned by all the other noises from the field, immediately pushed to the corner of Chan's brain labeled as unimportant. He threw his arms around Wonwoo's neck and yanked him forward, crushing his mouth against his. 

It wasn't a cute kiss, it was more of the ravenous kind. Totally not appropriate for being in public, but Chan couldn't care less as Wonwoo's hands found his waist and his fingers dug into his muscle. 

He felt in his chest like Wonwoo's hands had been created for exactly that, to dig into him with that exact level of reverence. 

When he was able to convince himself that he had to let the poor guy go if he wasn't trying to kill him by asphyxiation, his brain regained some of its cognitive functions and he felt incredibly lucky that it was late enough on a weekday that there weren't many other patrons in the facilities. At least they weren't about to get kicked out. 

By the time they were both satisfied with their amount of physical exertion, they were sweaty. Chan kept trying not to look at the way Wonwoo's shirt clung to his chest and how the strands of hair on the back of his neck curled. 

Wonwoo towered over Chan. He carefully touched his cheek with the back of his fingers, and he felt himself smiling. Genuinely.

“I don't get you,” Wonwoo said, more to himself than for Chan, like he wasn't intending to say it out loud. 

Chan acted like he didn't hear him, so soon enough they were saying their goodbyes and promising each other another date. 

It was getting more and more difficult to keep pretending around Wonwoo. 

vii. Wednesday

Hyung, you like e-sports, right? 

Sorry, hi

Hey, Chan, how's your day been?

Yeah, I'm actually a fan, why? 

You know T1? 

Yes, of course I know T1 

They have a match tomorrow, wanna go? 

[... typing.] 

[... typing.] 

[... typing.] 

Sorry what 

How??? Tickets have been sold out for weeks???? 

Wow hyung multiple question marks? You must be excited

I have this hyung… Well, Seungcheol is actually friends with Jisoo hyung and he's been dating my boss probably since the beginning of time. I pulled some strings and he got me the tickets. 

I know he does something sports related for a living but please don't ask me for more details because I don't know them and didn't ask! 

[... typing.] 

Hyung, please say something 

I wish you were in front of me so I could kiss you stupid 

lol wow straight forward. i like that, hope you keep with your promise tomorrow then

Sorry I got excited about the surprise, my day was long and exhausting, yours? hope it was good 

It is now, thanks to you

Ah, hyung, you are making me blush.

Wonwoo left his phone on top of his desk, face down. It gave him whiplash, he really couldn't decipher Lee Chan. One day he was absolutely unhinged and the next he was amazing. It made him curious to understand what he was about, he sensed there was something running deeper than what met the eye. 

Challenge be damned, he just wanted to understand him at this point. Once he got a clear idea of the mystery that Chan was, he'd decide what he'd do about it.

viii. Thursday

The venue was big, bigger than he expected if he was honest. 

Chan curled his hands into fists, already dreading his plan for the night. 

When Wonwoo placed his hand on the small of his back to guide him inside, he felt like clawing his own skin off. 

He tried to motivate himself, counting in his head the days left for the challenge to be over. Ten days. Just tonight and two days more. 

And he was positive Wonwoo was about to kick him to the metaphorical curb. The man was a gentleman but he wasn't a saint, Chan was sure, and he was about to push his limits. So maybe not even two days. 

He inhaled deeply before unclenching his hands to interlock his fingers with Wonwoo's. The other man turned to look at him with a soft smile before presenting their tickets to the clerk at the entrance. 

The tickets were good, to make it even worse for Chan's conscience. His stomach started to feel funny, and he almost laughed. Maybe he wouldn't even have to pretend anything. 

Wonwoo was visibly excited, buzzing with anticipation as he checked the huge screens peppered everywhere. He tried to explain the basics to him, so Chan wouldn't be as lost as he was (he was so considerate, it was sick), but it went above his head. 

All he could think of was Wonwoo's smile and the way the colorful lights reflected on his glasses. 

Chan thought that, of course, he had to come across the shiniest person he ever met when he couldn't have him. But at least he could bask in his light for a few moments, maybe that would be enough. 

Scratch that, it had to be enough. 

Wonwoo's skin against his hand was cold and it relieved Chan with how hot he felt. He had no idea what was happening on the stage and even less on the screens, the bright and colorful graphics meshing all together. 

“Hyung,” he called, as people around him clapped and cheered. Wonwoo leaned forward, completely absorbed in the match. He insisted: “Hyung.”

“Yes?” Wonwoo tore his gaze from the screens to turn around and look at Chan. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in his expression. He didn't have to act the dread up, at least. 

“I'm not feeling so good,” he said, leaning in to speak against Wonwoo's ear because of the loud crowd. “I'll go to the bathroom really quick and come back.” 

Wonwoo looked torn as he stole another glance at the match in front of them. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

Chan's chest ached.

He smiled nonetheless as he shook his head and squeezed Wonwoo's hand before letting it go. At least that he could call his. 

He made his way to the bathroom and checked the stalls to find they were empty. He locked himself in the furthest one, dried his sweaty hands on his jeans, and fished his phone from his pocket before scrolling through his recent calls and pressing the dial button. 

Seungkwan picked up almost immediately. Chan could hear the background noise of his TV, tuned in on the match he was at, and the crinkling of a potato chips bag. 

“Why are you watching the match if you have no idea what League of Legends is?” He asked, forgoing any greetings. 

“Moral support,” Seungkwan replied. “And Hansol mentioned he likes gaming too.” 

Chan rested his head against the wall. “We're both into nerds. Sucks to be us.” 

“I was about to ask,” Seungkwan said with a careful tone, “how's it going, but judging by your voice, not great.” 

“No, the plan is good so far,” he hesitated, his grip on his phone tightening. “The problem is I don't know if I want the plan to work anymore.” 

There was a silence on the other line. 

“Oh, Chan-ah,” his friend said. He could picture in his head the sympathetic pout on his face. 

“Oh, well,” Chan said, feigning a cheery tone. “No point in dwelling on things we can't change.”

“Are you sure you can't?” Seungkwan asked. “You are an adult after all. You don't need to abide by some stupid challenge.” 

“I know,” he replied. 

By the way his friend hummed on the speaker he could tell he didn't buy any of his shit. 

“Fine. I hope it all turns out fine,” Seungkwan said before the line disconnected. 

Chan unlocked himself from the stall and placed his hands on the sink. The overhead lights were harsh on his complexion, giving a sickly hint to his skin. 

He dragged his feet again to his seat to find Wonwoo checking his watch. 

“You're back,” he said, smiling when he slid on the seat next to him. “I was getting worried.”

He batted a hand and tried to sound nonchalant. “It's just something I ate,” he said. 

Wonwoo winced with sympathy. “I'm sorry,” he said, finding his hand and trapping it between both of his. “Do you need anything?” 

Chan felt like banging his head against the seat in front of him. 

“It's fine,” he smiled. “Watch the game, I think they are about to score a goal or something.” 

Wonwoo snorted a breathy laugh before turning his attention back to the screens but his hands didn't leave his. 

It made it harder for Chan to leave for the bathroom again in the next fifteen minutes. When he came back the conversation was almost a copy of the one before. And when he repeated the whole charade two more times. 

He was about to come out to splash water on his face when the bathroom door opened. 

“Chan?” Wonwoo asked, his voice loud against the silence of the room. 

He felt both mortified and relieved because of the fact that he counted on Wonwoo's kindness and he delivered. He knew he wouldn't leave him alone to enjoy the match without him.

“Yeah?” he said from the stall, his voice coming out broken.

Wonwoo's steps stopped before his door. “Are you okay?” 

“Not really,” Chan called out.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, concern painting his voice. 

Chan racked his brain trying to think of something to reply. 

“No,” he ended up saying. “As I said, it's just something I ate.” 

Wonwoo hummed. The silence stretched between them.

“Okay,” he said. “Would you rather want me to stay here or outside the door?” 

“What?” Chan croaked. 

“I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable I can wait for you by the door. So you'll know where to find me if you need anything.” 

Chan shook his head like he was trying to regain his own consciousness.

“You don't have to,” he said. “You'll miss the match.” 

Chan almost wanted Wonwoo to agree with him and leave him to fend for himself there. It would serve two purposes, for one it would ease the guilt of ruining his night. And, most importantly, would prove that Wonwoo wasn't as perfect as he seemed, that he was capable of being selfish. That would make it easier for Chan to move on, maybe pretending he never wanted to see Wonwoo again would be closer to being a reality.

“I won't leave you here alone,” Wonwoos said, because of course. Of course. “Besides, I wouldn't be able to enjoy it anymore.” 

Chan felt like pulling all his hair out. He couldn't for the life of him understand why Wonwoo would rather stay there with him as he, allegedly, threw up all the contents of his stomach. At that point, he might as well dunk his head under the faucet and hope for the best, which would be to drown. 

“Why?” Chan asked, his voice came out tiny. He cleared his throat. “I mean, why are you doing this?” 

Wonwoo didn't answer right away, probably thinking his answer thoroughly. 

“Because I care about you,” he ended up saying. 

Chan wondered what were the odds of simply dropping dead spontaneously. 

And yet, in an awful twist of fate, he was endeared, to put it in a way. He knew Wonwoo for the entirety of one single week, and he was still willing to chill in a bathroom because he cared about Chan. It was incredibly thoughtful. Something inside Chan's stomach actually fluttered, and it wasn't something he ate. But he would rather get eaten by Seungkwan's tiny menace of a dog than admit to that. 

“Right,” he said, feeling like someone was strangling him. “You can stay. Maybe just… talk.” 

“Talk? About what?” 

“I don't know, anything,” Chan let himself be honest for once. “I just want to hear your voice.” 

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound of it rumbling over Chan, setting his nerves on fire. As Wonwoo talked, he got lost in his voice. Wonwoo talked about everything and anything, about work and his friends, about his family and their dog, about the games he liked to play when he had free time. 

Chan wanted to simultaneously come out of the stall to look at his face and never come out at all, until everyone on the face of the Earth had forgotten about his existence.

When he finally deemed it had been enough humiliation for one night, he came out with his eyes settled on the floor and made it directly to the sink. He splashed his face and revisited the idea of drowning, but by pretending to clean his mouth with as much water as he could fit. 

He looked up and thanked the heavens that Wonwoo averted his eyes, giving him some privacy. But when he turned around, he had to face the concern in his eyes and the downturn of his mouth and it felt awful. Without a word, they walked away from the bathroom. Chan started making his way to their seats, but, with a swift motion, Wonwoo grabbed him by the hand and softly touched his fingers, guiding him to the exit. 

“I'd rather get you home safely,” he said when Chan asked. 

They were halfway through the parking lot, their hands linked together as if it were natural for them. Chan vaguely thought that people would see them and assume they were a couple. Again, that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“This is so embarrassing,” he said, because he felt it and to fill in the silence. You missed the whole thing because of me.” 

Wonwoo shrugged. “It happens. Besides, I spent my time with a cute guy, that's enough for me.”

“I was in the bathroom the whole time.” 

“Yeah, but you were willing to come with me. You got the tickets, you got out of your comfort zone for me.” 

Chan was truly despicable. He didn't deserve to bask in Wonwoo's light, not even for a fleeting second. 

“Let me give you a ride,” Wonwoo said.

Already feeling full of shame, Chan insisted that he was perfectly fine calling a cab to take him home. Wonwoo only let him go under the promise of texting him as soon as he got into his apartment. It was endearing in a twisted way, how Wonwoo worried about him and how a tiny part of him still managed to thrive under his attention. 

It had gotten all too far, he thought as he sat in the backseat of a taxi on his way home. It was supposed to be a silly game between him and his friends, but it had gotten too deep. It was all too seared under Chan's skin.

He didn't care about any challenge or any article anymore. He had to call off the whole thing, as soon as possible. Immediately. 

He texted Wonwoo letting him know he had arrived safely from the entrance hallway while toeing off his shoes and letting them fall however. He didn't even feel like putting them away. 

Instead of replying, Wonwoo's name flashed on his screen with an incoming call. A few beats passed before he pressed the green button. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo's voice said on the other line, and even if Chan had just been with him, it stirred something inside him. “Just checking if you're feeling better.” 

“I am,” he replied, padding his way to his couch. He threw himself on it, letting his body relax, imagining the cushions ate him whole so he wouldn't have to deal with any of the consequences his own actions had. “Thanks for asking, and for everything today.” 

“Don't even mention it,” he replied and for a few seconds he could only hear his faint breathing on the other line. “Actually, there's something I wanted to ask.” 

Chan closed his eyes. “Ask away.” 

“Are you free tomorrow?” 

He opened his eyes, surprised. “Huh?” 

“I have this family thing tomorrow night, and it's a long drive without anyone to talk to… I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is, would you like to go?” 

Chan couldn't think of anything to say. Wonwoo grew restless. 

“I wanted to ask you today but didn't have the chance. If you still don't feel great you can say so.” 

“I'll go,” Chan said and immediately felt like kicking himself. 

“Oh! Great,” he could almost see the big smile on Wonwoo's face just judging by his voice. “I'll pick you up from work.” 

“Can't wait,” Chan's mouth said without his authorization. “See you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow,” Wonwoo said before hanging up, his voice dripping with something close to affection. 

Chan sat there staring at his ceiling for what felt like ages before getting in the shower with the pretense of tripping and plummeting to his death. 

ix. Friday

Chan gripped his bag tighter, his knuckles white. 

“You drive a bike,” he said, his voice strangled. 

Wonwoo would have laughed if it wasn't rude, so he settled for a smile that he hoped would ease Chan into trusting his vehicle. 

He handed him his extra helmet which Chan accepted reluctantly. He had a crease between his eyebrows that made him look like a confused puppy. Wonwoo wanted to reach out and soften it with his fingers. 

Visibly disgruntled, Chan put on the helmet and struggled with the clasp. 

“Let me,” Wonwoo said, gently pushing his hands off and closing the strap around his chin. His fingers lingered against his skin for a few more seconds than necessary. “All done. Ready?”

Chan stole another look at his bike, apparently hyping himself up before nodding. Wonwoo found his hand and squeezed it for a second to reassure him. Chan hopped on the bike and the heat coming from his body almost immediately sipped through his leather jacket. 

“Okay,” he said. “Ready.” 

Wonwoo turned on the engine and the bike rumbled under them. Chan’s hands were on his waist at once, as he grabbed a fistful of his jacket. 

“It’ll be safer if you just hug me,” he said, biting his bottom lip so his smile wouldn't be so obvious. In the rearview mirror, he could see Chan hesitating for a second before his hands surrounded completely his waist, joining above his stomach. His chest was flushed against his back and he could tell how strong his thighs were just by how they were pressing against his legs. It would be a long drive but not because of the distance between them and his parents’ house. 

And Wonwoo was endeared with the other man, sue him. He was a mystery, it was obvious there was something he wasn’t saying, and even when he seemed batshit crazy, he couldn’t help himself but feel curious. Here and there, he caught glimpses of a Chan he wanted to be around, maybe for a long time. 

He didn’t even care about Junhui and his ideas anymore. 

The drive was uneventful, or as uneventful as having Lee Chan draped around him and occasionally speaking against his ear could be. 

Finally, the city gave way to houses being further away from each other and eventually to a suburb that seemed taken from a movie, white picket fences and well-kept front laws. 

Wonwoo pulled over in front of a two-story house, complete with bushes full of colorful flowers. The sun was about to set and it gave an orange hue to the afternoon air. 

Chan hopped off the bike and Wonwoo missed his body heat pressed against him immediately. He took off his helmet before killing the engine and following Chan, who was inspecting the front of the house. His lips were on a thin line and by the way he was gripping the strap of his bag, he was nervous. 

Wonwoo gently unclasped the strap around his chin to take off his helmet, and Chan looked at him openly, like he had forgotten he was actually there. Wonwoo leaned over to give him a quick kiss before carding a hand through his hair to comb the strands back to their places. 

There was only one way to describe his family's home. Chaos. As soon as they stepped inside the threshold, they were bombarded with voices and faces. It would be too much for Wonwoo if he didn't miss his family. 

They were all there, not only his parents and his brother with his girlfriend, but his cousins and their partners. A small army of children between the ages of four and seven swarmed as they tried to safely store their helmets on the entrance hallway. 

“Uncle Wonwoo!” The tiny voices said at once as two small hands grabbed his shirt, demandingly. 

Wonwoo immediately picked up the youngest of the bunch, a little girl with her black hair braided and star pins keeping her fringe out of her eyes. She hid her face in his neck and Wonwoo hugged her tighter. 

The rest of his nieces and nephews were surrounding Chan like a hungry pack of wolves.

“Are you Uncle's boyfriend?” 

“Are you getting married?”

“You should have chocolate cake for your wedding. That's my favorite.” 

Chan's ears turned red as he tried to placate the children to no avail. He looked at Wonwoo like pleading for help and the only thing he was able to do was laugh. 

“Children, let them breathe,” his mom said, emerging from the kitchen while cleaning her hands in her apron. “Go help set the table.” 

The kids scrambled while laughing, running away from the adults. Even the one in Wonwoo's arms squirmed until he put her back on the floor and ran following the rest of the children. 

“Hi, mom,” he said, opening his arms to hug her. “How are you?” 

She patted his cheek softly before turning to look at Chan. 

“I'm fine. But most importantly, who is this handsome gentleman?” 

Chan bowed politely. “I'm Lee Chan, I- hum…”

His ears were still red. 

“He's a friend,” Wonwoo said, amused at how embarrassed Chan looked. 

His mom grabbed his hands between hers. She had a knowing glint in her eyes. “Welcome, Chan. You arrive just in time, dinner is about to be done.” 

Without letting go of Chan's hand, she guided them to the dining room. Chan looked at him over his shoulder, a slight panic in his eyes. Wonwoo smiled wider. 

As they sat with his family and enjoyed a chaotic dinner, he vaguely thought of how well Chan fitted there, in his parents’ house. He wondered what it would take to make it a regular event. He soon shook the initial panic and charmed everyone at the table with his smile and jokes. 

It was like he was always meant to be there, beside Wonwoo. 

Dinner passed in a whirlwind and his mom dragged him to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Chan followed them until a bunch of tiny hands grabbed him by the shirt and forced him to play with him in the backyard. He was able to pick up a c’mon, Uncle Chan, you have to see the water guns my dad got me for my birthday. It made Wonwoo smile. 

“I wash, you dry,” he said to his mom, handing her a towel. 

They worked in silence for a few minutes, only the water hitting the dishes filling the air. The backyard was in direct view of the window above the sink, so he got lost watching Chan with the kids, completely absorbed in a water gun fight. The delighted screams from the children came muffled as they surrounded him and emptied their tanks on him. 

He kept trying to counter attack but the kids were too fast. He could hear his laugh all the way to the kitchen. 

“You're smiling,” his mom said. Wonwoo immediately looked at the dishes in his hands. 

“I am not,” he replied stubbornly. His mom laughed. 

“He seems like a nice boy,” she said. 

Wonwoo knew his mother, so he knew exactly what she wasn't saying. She was an expert on all things Wonwoo, so she knew how to make him know something without words. She had that glint in her eyes again, like she knew something Wonwoo didn't. He didn't even bother to ask what it was because he knew she would only smile and say something vague along the lines of you have to discover that by yourself, it's no fun if I spell it out for you. 

She would be right, anyway. 

“He is,” he said, looking again through the window as Chan picked up a kid and spun under the merciless water attack as everyone laughed. 

And oh, Wonwoo realized. Oh. He was a goner.

His mom took the sponge from his hands. “Go play,” she said. “I'll finish here.” 

He kissed her cheek as she laughed, trying to shoo him away with a kitchen towel. 

The night air was warm when he stepped into the backyard. Chan was the first one to see him, his smile growing wider and matching Wonwoo's. 

“Look, it's Uncle Wonwoo!” he said, pointing at him. 

All heads turned around to look at him, water guns ready for the attack. Chan mouthed a sorry without looking apologetic at all as they all charged against him in a very unfair fight. 

Luckily, the battle didn't last long as bedtime for the kids approached. The water guns were abandoned on the grass not long after Wonwoo joined them. 

Chan squeezed the hem of his shirt, trying to drain some of the water. The smile still hung from his lips, even while he was shivering with the night breeze. Wonwoo wasn’t much better, his white shirt clinging to his body like a second skin. But he had seen Chan stealing looks at his chest a few times, so he wasn't about to start complaining. 

“Alright,” Wonwoo’s mom came to the backyard with a pile of towels in her hand and one of his cousins in tow. “Time for a bath before anyone catches a cold,” she said, draping a towel around the closest shivering tiny body. Then she turned to Wonwoo: “You can use the upstairs bathroom to take a shower.” 

Wonwoo grabbed Chan by the hand and guided him upstairs, avoiding the crowded living room. He felt a pang of something weird, having Chan walking the spaces where he had grown up. But nonetheless, his figure didn’t seem out of place in the cream-colored bathroom. 

“Let me find you some towels,” Wonwoo said, rummaging through the cabinet. “Shampoo and conditioner are inside the shower. Hot water can be a little tricky, you need to-”

He turned around to look at Chan, and he was already looking at him. He had that crooked smile, but there was no mischief this time. It was soft and genuine. His eyes sparkled with the bathroom's warm light. His hair was dripping and clinging to his forehead.

Wonwoo lost his words somewhere along his throat. He closed his mouth and Chan’s smile got even wider. 

“I like your family, they’re fun,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands made their way to sneak around Wonwoo’s neck and he dragged him closer to him. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

He touched his nose lightly with his own before kissing him. It was a different kind of kiss compared to the previous ones. Wonwoo felt like the air had been punched mercilessly from his lungs as he tried to keep up with Chan. His tongue was warm against his own and when his hands traveled from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, goosebumps broke on his skin. 

Chan was impatient, his movements rushed as he tried to yank his shirt off his body without breaking the kiss. Wonwoo pushed him softly, enough to reach for the still-open door without letting go of Chan’s waist. 

The muffled voices that came from downstairs were snuffed as he closed and locked the door. Chan didn’t lose any more time as he pulled his shirt off, this time with Wonwoo’s help. The discarded piece of cloth fell to the floor and was promptly joined by all the pieces of fabric that previously separated their bodies. 

Wonwoo blindly reached for the shower, expertly maneuvering without leaving Chan’s mouth until the water ran hot. Chan’s hands, buried in his hair, traveled down to cup his face. His touch was feather-like, as if he was afraid he would disappear into thin air. He broke the kiss just to gently remove Wonwoo’s glasses, carefully folding them and leaving them on the counter by the sink. 

That small gesture ignited something in Wonwoo that he didn’t care to unpack, so instead he kissed Chan again and guided his body under the warm water.  

x. Saturday 

For a second after he woke up, Chan felt panic finding himself in an unfamiliar room. 

Then, it all came back to him. It helped to piece the memories back together that Wonwoo was lying beside him, in a bed too small for two people, with an arm draped over his stomach. His skin was warm.

He was in Wonwoo’s childhood room after having spent time with his family. 

Chan took the opportunity and closely examined Wonwoo's face. His face was smushed against the pillow. Chan tried to commit to memory all the details. He counted his eyelashes and the way the light bounced on his skin. He memorized the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips.

Wonwoo scrunched his face under his scrutiny, maybe sensing he was being observed. He stretched like an oversized cat before finding Chan's waist again and pulling him even closer. 

Chan chuckled and retrieved his glasses from the bedside table, carefully putting them on Wonwoo's nose. He blinked, now fully awake, and looked at Chan straight on. He fought against the need to squirm. 

“Good morning,” Wonwoo's voice was rough with sleep, and it sent shivers down Chan's spine. “Did you sleep well?” 

Chan decided to comply with his deep desires so he placed a kiss on Wonwoo's cheek. The other man looked surprised for a second before smiling. 

“I did. You?” 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, his voice soft, and it didn't take a genius to understand what he was implying, with the way his eyes didn't leave his face. 

Then someone knocked on the door and they both jumped like two teenagers caught doing something they weren't supposed to. 

“Breakfast's ready!” Wonwoo's dad said from the other side of the door. “Come if you don't want to face your mother's wrath.” 

“C’mon,” Wonwoo said, already trying to disentangle himself from the blankets. “Let's get breakfast and then I'll drive you home. You'll go to that event tonight, right?” 

Right, Chan had forgotten about it already. Seungkwan would nag him so much if he found out he did. In his defense, too many similar events by luxury brands that invited them or they had to cover for the magazine were bound to get mixed together. 

He nodded. That night also marked ten days since he had met Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo finally made it out of bed, but Chan was faster and grabbed him by the wrist. 

“You forgot something,” he said, touching his own lips. Wonwoo laughed and Chan felt like life had been infused in him. 

Wonwoo leaned over to kiss him. It was hot and deep, and it had an edge of desperation that Chan added and it made it feel so monumental. 

Shortly after, he followed Wonwoo downstairs, where everyone greeted him affectionately. The room looked even fuller than the night before and the living room was messier, littered with mattresses that the kids had used for a night of movies and sleepovers. 

That night, he thought as he climbed in the back of Wonwoo's bike and enveloped his waist with his arms, relishing in the physical contact. He would tell Wonwoo the truth that night and gracefully accept the consequences. He'd give him time but make it clear that he wanted to start fresh, with him.

It was worth it, he thought.

Chan did his best to lose Seungkwan in the crowd. He was jittery, probably one iced americano away from challenging God to a duel. That, mixed with some alcohol, wasn't bound to end well. 

He felt strange in his own skin, like it was about to crawl out of his body and leave him altogether. His suit was uncomfortable, it was too tight, and his shirt was interrupting the airflow to his lungs. Wonwoo had texted he was running late.

It wasn't going great, overall. 

“Ah, isn't that my favorite dongsaeng?” someone said behind his back. 

He turned around to find the last people he wanted to see in his lifetime, also known as Wonwoo's friends. They were looking at him with varying degrees of wariness, except Soonyoung who had his arms opened. 

“Oh, hyung, hi,” he said, feeling like the humiliation would never end, but at the same time like he had it coming. 

“How are things going with Wonwoo?” Junhui asked, with a smile that could only be described as trouble. 

“Things are going… great, actually,” he found himself saying. “He is great. I like him.” 

Everyone raised their eyebrows at him. 

“You'll keep seeing him after tonight?” 

“Yes?” he said, confused. Everyone exchanged looks and collectively sighed with relief. “I mean, if he wants to, after-” 

“That must mean he told you already,” Junhui said, more to his friends than to Chan, cutting him off. 

“Finally,” Jihoon said. “I hope you didn't take it too badly, Chan.”

“Yeah, it was all in good fun,” Junhui added, nodding. “As they say, all's well that ends well.” 

“I think the only reason he kept going with it was because he likes you,” Jihoon added. 

“That was my plan all along,” Junhui batted a hand like Chan wasn't trying desperately to decipher what was happening. “I knew from the beginning they would be good together.” 

“You were drunk, stop trying to take credit,” Soonyoung nagged just as Chan felt two familiar presences at his side. 

“Hey,” Jisoo said, offering his hand to be shaken by the rest of the group. “I'm Jisoo, this is Seungkwan, we work with Chan here. May I ask what credit is being taken?” 

“Junhui had a bet going with Wonwoo that he wouldn't manage to date Chan for ten days without getting dumped.” 

“Really?” Jisoo's eyes sparkled at the possibility of mischief. “That's so funny because Chan's been trying so hard to make Wonwoo leave him, for an article he's writing.” 

“Wait, hyung,” Chan grabbed Jisoo's sleeve to make him shut up. 

“Was he?” Soonyoung asked, his loud voice drowning Chan's. “That's why he was acting like that?” 

Jisoo laughed. Chan knew no one was trying to expose or humiliate him further, but the sound of his laugh felt like nails dragging across a chalkboard. 

“I thought he would break when Chan threw away all his snacks and replaced them with carrots,” Soonyoung laughed.

“I know,” Seungkwan said, his cheeks flush from the alcohol. “We came up with these deranged plans to scare the poor guy away but he wouldn't budge!” 

Chan felt like trapped inside a fishbowl, experiencing the conversation from afar instead of being part of it. 

“Oh, Wonwoo!” Junhui said. “I didn't see you there!” 

Chan turned around in his heels so fast it made him dizzy. Wonwoo was there, standing right behind them. He was already looking at Chan and he didn't like what he found in his eyes. It was a mirror of what he felt. 

Heartbreak. 

It was like his body moved on its own accord. He navigated the crowd on autopilot, without saying sorry or even sparing a look at the people he shoved out of his way. 

Finally outside, Chan inhaled the crisp fresh air and let it invade his lungs. He felt the anxiety crawling under his skin. 

He found the nearest valet outside the event venue to ask him for a taxi. Then he stood there, like the absolute idiot that he felt like, waiting for a car to take him home away from everyone inside.

“Chan! Chan, wait!”

He didn't turn around. He kept looking at the street, searching almost maniacally for a taxi. 

Then a familiar hand found his and made him turn around. He faced Wonwoo, even when he didn't want to. The shame and the anger were too entangled inside him, he couldn't pick them apart from each other. 

“What?” He barked when Wonwoo didn't say anything. That seemed to snap him back to reality. 

“Is it true?” He asked, his grip tight on his hand like he knew Chan would escape as soon as he could. “Is it true that it was all for a fucking article of yours?” 

His accusatory tone tipped the balance towards anger and further away from ache. Chan bit into the bait. 

“I could ask you the same thing. A fucking bet, hyung, really?” He spat. “Are you teenagers?”

“And I'm just a guinea pig for your experiments?” Wonwoo counterattacked. “That's all it ever was? Did it mean anything at all to you?”

“Did it mean anything to you when you fucked me or you just were thinking about bragging to your friends?” He raised his voice, shaking his hand from Wonwoo's grip. The valet looked at them with concern but none of them cared. “Fucking asshole.” 

Wonwoo let out an ugly, humorless laugh. 

“From the beginning, it was meaningless then,” he said. 

“Sure,” Chan vomited the words, feeling cold in his bones. Emotionless. “If it was meaningless we don't need to keep pretending. Let's stop now.”

Wonwoo spent the next few beats looking at him before nodding. The valet cleared his throat. 

“Sir, your car.” 

Wonwoo's eyes didn't leave Chan's face.

“I hope you at least get a good punchline out of it,” he said, an emotion too complex to untangle in his voice, before turning around and walking back inside the venue. 

Chan looked at his back for a few more seconds before turning around as well and climbing into the back of the taxi.

xi. After

Junhui walked to Wonwoo with a cup of coffee in each hand, offering him one. Wonwoo accepted it with relief before checking his watch. 

“You should go home,” he said. “Rest for a bit.”

“I need to finish this up,” Wonwoo replied, clicking aimlessly on the toolbar of his editing program. He didn't, actually, he was all caught up with work. He still had developed the habit of staying way after everyone in the office left for the day. All because he didn’t want to go back to his empty apartment until it was absolutely necessary and he was tired enough that he fell asleep as soon as his body hit the mattress.

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” Junhui insisted. 

Wonwoo didn’t reply, and he didn’t look at his friend either, afraid he would say too much if he did. 

Without an answer, Junhui sighed. “You should read it, at least,” he said. “I sent you the link.”

Without another word, he left, leaving Wonwoo alone. He took off his glasses to rub at his tired eyes. 

It had been a few weeks since the last time he saw Lee Chan. It would probably be longer before he saw him again. Hopefully. He wasn’t ready to face him, asking around if he was invited to any brand event, and then skipping them altogether just in case. 

He put on his glasses again and color-corrected a few more pictures before stopping again. He couldn’t help but feel curiosity at how Chan had portrayed their short relationship to the world in a magazine. Like his body wasn’t his own, he opened his email and found the link kindly provided by Junhui. Maybe he was a masochist, maybe he enjoyed rubbing salt in an open wound. Maybe having irrefutable proof that Lee Chan was an awful human being was exactly what he needed to finally move on, because under the disappointment and humiliation, he still dreamt of his eyes and the way he looked at him when they were alone. 

The link took him directly to the article. How to lose a guy in ten days, it read, and it had a tiny author’s picture of Chan on a corner that he did his best not to look at. He scrolled, not really sure if he wanted to actually read it, but a line caught his attention. 

At first, I thought it would be a fun article, trying all the chick flick cliches that men so ardently hate in order to make a point. I only proved that I was the fool. 

Wonwoo’s grip on the mouse got tight as he kept scrolling, not really stopping but like a madman, trying to read every word at once.

I did lose a guy in ten days, probably the only guy I met that I wanted to keep seeing, that I didn’t dread every time his name popped on my phone. I was selfish and immature, constantly trying to push him away when all I wanted to do was to keep him close. 

He scrolled all the way to the bottom, stopping only at the last paragraph.

The worst thing is that I wouldn’t change a thing. I got to know him, I got to spend ten days in his vicinity and even if it’s not enough, it will have to do. As the old saying goes, I rather loved and lost than never to have loved at all. 

Wonwoo inhaled, but it was like something was choking him. He scrambled to grab his phone on his desk, dialing Chan’s number but it sent him straight to voicemail. He cursed under his breath before checking his watch again. 

If he was lucky there was still a chance to catch Chan at his office. He didn’t even bother to turn off his computer before taking his jacket and running to the door. He climbed onto his bike and was barely able to put on his helmet, trying to will his hands to stop shaking. 

He cruised across the city, violating a few laws that he didn’t care about at the moment. The sun had gone down by the time he made it to his office. Taking off his helmet, he searched for him in the sea of people coming and going out of the building. Instead, he saw one of his friends. 

When he saw him, he opened his eyes wide. 

“Sorry,” Wonwoo said, well aware that he probably looked insane. “I’m looking for Chan.”

“He went out a few minutes ahead of me,” he replied, pointing, “that way.” 

“Thank you,” Wonwoo barely said before he ran in that direction. 

It didn’t take him long to find Chan. It was like he was a magnet, like he didn’t have any other option but to orbit around him. Like there was something in the other man that was always calling him. 

“Chan, wait!” He said, reaching to grab him by the arm. It dangerously felt like the last night they spoke to each other. 

Chan turned around, his face scrunching up with pain when he saw Wonwoo. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. There wasn’t any anger in his voice, not anymore. 

“I read the article,” Wonwoo just said instead of replying. “Is it true?”

Chan looked away. “Hyung, let’s not-” 

“Please,” Wonwoo pleaded, his grip on his wrist tight, even if he wanted to believe that Chan wasn’t about to run away from him. “Just tell me, is it true or it was just clickbait?” 

Chan didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Instead, he kept averting his gaze. Desperate for any sort of confirmation, Wonwoo cupped his face in his hands. Chan visibly shivered under his touch. 

“You can say you didn’t mean anything that you wrote,” he said, looking directly at his eyes. It seemed like they held the universe, “and you’ll never see me again. But if it was true…” 

Chan’s hands came up to cover Wonwoo’s.  

“I meant every single word, hyung,” he whispered. 

Wonwoo didn’t need any further explanations, not that urgently at least, as he leaned over and closed the distance between their lips. 

Chan gave him, at last, his honesty, and Wonwoo was willing to do the same. He wanted to learn more about him, every bit and piece, and this time do it properly, without any sort of hidden intentions from any of them. 

The kiss broke but neither of them stranded far from the other. Wonwoo gently caressed Chan’s cheek with his thumb, his forehead against Chan. He didn’t open his eyes, enjoying the warmth settling in him. 

“Let me take you on an actual date,” he said into Chan’s lips, making him laugh an airy laugh that was probably the best sound he ever heard before he nodded.