Chapter Text
this wasn't going to work.
wonho comes back to the entire bedroom wall painted in the darkest black to ever exist, a stark contrast to the pristine white he remembered leaving it with. mouth agape, he stares at the desecrated surface with quivering pupils, the browns of his eyes looking as if they were about to pop out from their sockets. in his shock, he barely notices the tiny post-it note stuck on one corner, and he peels it off to read the scrawl with a passion that demands nothing but answers,
you're welcome. it reads.
-hyungwon ♡. it screams (in wonho's head, at least.)
"CHAE! HYUNG! WON!" the elder screams in divided syllables, hoping that the division makes his anger wholly known. the small note is crushed in a heap between his fist, and his knuckles grow whiter and whiter with each passing second of silence.
"you're noisy." hyungwon deadpans, his blonde head trumpeting his entrance as he yawned into a delicate palm. "i was having a wonderful dream, too. do you know how hard it is to nap in a room that smells of paint?"
wonho tries his best to keep himself from strangling his husband.
"what is this?" he motions to the wall, one eye twitching when he sees no change in the younger's perfect visage. "this was white--pristine, immaculate white--when i left this morning."
"it was disgusting." the blonde doesn't even bother to sugarcoat his syllables. "i made it better. you're welcome. goodbye."
"better? it's so dark! it's like the room of a se--" wonho stops in his litany as he notices the blonde's absence from the room. damn that infuriating lawyer. if he just knew that this was what he was going to get into upon marrying the douche, he would've thought twice about--
probably not. he knows he has it bad.
sighing, the dejected ravenette pushes his sleeves up upon his arms, keen on repainting the entire wall white before he goes back to the hotel room they rented until the house renovations were over and done.
except, it seems like hyungwon wanted to stay in the hotel room a bit longer.
wonho, again, comes back to his masterpiece painted over in pitch black, with yet another post-it stuck onto the slightly wet surface. he keeps his hand from stabbing himself in the neck with the paint knife, crushing the note in a shaking fist the millisecond after he reads its contents.
seriously. stop. - hyungwon ♡
he feels his ears twitch in anger at the irony.
"seriously. stop." the elder does his best imitation of the blonde's prissy baritone, before reopening the paint cans and begrudgingly repainting the dark walls with his favorite shade of the brightest white. "persistent asshole."
the day after that was the worst. it seems as if hyungwon didn't even wait for the paint to dry before remodeling the room into some sort of vampire's lair, as there were patches of fading gray in some areas of the wall. wonho spots another post-it note on the corner of the room, and he stops himself from breaking one of the floor-to-ceiling windows upon reading the writing.
you're never going to win against me, jagi. - hyungwon ♡
he curses under his breath at the truth of the statements, angrily painting over the blotches of gray and black while muttering a litany of curses. "not this time, yeobo," he taunts at the blonde that isn't present in the room, but the fumes of the paint seems to have left him a bit delusional. "i can fucking win against you too."
to protect his precious work from being repainted again, wonho decides to camp in the empty penthouse for the night. once his stubborn husband comes in to transform their bedroom to a satanist's paradise yet again, he'd be awake and alert and ready to stop him. the room was going to be white, clean and pristine and immaculate, and hyungwon would just have to compromise.
his dreams are awash with duct tape and rope and industrial strength glue before he is woken up by the pungent smell of paint and fumes.
"seriously?!" wonho half-screams, still a bit groggy from being awake at such an ungodly hour. his body clock tells him that it isn't a little bit after three in the morning. "what the hell do you think you're doing, hyungwon?"
"i'm making our room much better." the blonde replies, not even sparing his husband a tiny glance as he continues on with his work. "i already agreed to having floor-to-ceiling windows. you can't make the room white too."
wonho groans, both from the illogical reasoning (seriously, how is this guy a world-renowned attorney?) and the pain that is shooting from the base of his spine as he stands to his full height. "but black? you know i don't like the dark!"
"you married me, though." hyungwon points out, pausing as he turns to look at his elder. black paint drips from the head of the roller unto the newspapers scattered on the floor. "anyway, i'll get you a nightlight. i can't take too much brightness, okay?"
"you married me, though." wonho parrots, unamused. he snatches the roller out of the younger's hands, the force of his act making splatters of black land upon the white wall. "still. one of us is going to have to compromise, though."
hyungwon is silent, his eyes fixated on something behind wonho's shoulder.
"what? what are you looking at?" wonho turns, his own peepers searching the area for what caught his husband's attention. "oh."
"oh," hyungwon echoes, and the looks they exchange tells them that they might make something work.
"it doesn't look so bad," wonho says, admiring this morning's work from where he was seated on the newspapered floor. in fact, i must say it looks quite...good."
unable to choose between black or white, the couple decided to divide the room to their preferences. hyungwon's space was a clear, pitch black, his side of the bed pictured to face away from the windows. wonho's side was painted in an immaculate white, and he will wake up to the rays of the sun hitting his lovely face. (worst way to wake up in my opinion, hyungwon mocks) the space in which two of the sides meet were sponged to a delicate ombre, its middle subtly forming the shape of a heart.
"meh." hyungwon shrugs, resting his head upon the elder's shoulder. wonho relaxes with a whiff of the strawberry shampoo he still wears. "i think the heart is a bit too much though. can we remove that?"
"i'm not getting you blackout curtains if you do."
the younger groans. "i hate you, yeobo."
wonho chuckles, mussing up the blonde's locks with his clean hand. "love you too, jagi."