Work Text:
Lost
“Tsk, where is it?”
Wonwoo stretched his arm further over his head, reaching under the pillow to feel for the familiar fluffy thing he always hid there. He sighed and finally gave up, twisting around awkwardly like he was doing acrobatics while still half-asleep (and fully miserable), on the bed.
“Ugh… I’m so sleepy—and it’s freezing. Please, I need it.”
With a groan, he sat up and lifted the pillow, searching properly this time.
Nothing.
Wonwoo felt like crying. He was exhausted, the heater in his room had been dead since morning, and now his favorite thick, fluffy purple socks were gone—the ones with the animated purple fox wearing glasses.
He’d gotten them from his brother as a teasing gift last Christmas. Joke’s on his brother, though, because Wonwoo loved those socks. Warm. Fluffy. Cute. Pastel purple.
Perfect.
Then it clicked.
Right.
Wonwoo winced as he realized where those socks had probably ended up by now.
He hoped—really hoped—his soulmate would be kind enough to keep them safe until they met.
They were very warm socks, after all.
Found
His mother used to say that nothing was ever truly lost if it was meant for you.
When Wonwoo was little, he cried for hours after losing his favorite cat plushie. His mom had simply said, “Maybe Noodles went for a walk, found a sad little kid, and decided to keep them company instead.”
It wasn’t until junior high that Wonwoo finally understood what she meant.
Noodles hadn’t disappeared. He’d gone to his soulmate.
Wonwoo hoped they took good care of Noodles.
His mother also told him that one day, he would find things too—things that didn’t belong to him at first. They would appear out of nowhere, and it would be his job to keep them safe for his soulmate. It could be something important, showing up on his desk, in his bag, or anywhere in his room.
And it was true.
Since childhood, things had appeared now and then, and since his mother told him to keep those things safe, Wonwoo always did.
It had been months since the last one.
This time, it showed up on his desk, beside his anatomy books.
Wonwoo reached for a book—and stopped when something brown and dirty rolled slightly. He picked it up instead, staring at it with a frown.
“What the heck is this?”
A peanut? A rock? Something knitted—with a face?
No. No way.
A knitted doll of… poo?
Who would make something like this and give it eyes?
Whatever.
This one was definitely going into the Lost and Found bin.
He brought the bin with him to college, just in case his soulmate lost even more things while he was there.
Lost
There was an online campus bulletin board where students could post what they’d lost or what they’d found. Some hoped to get their belongings back. Others secretly hoped to find their soulmate along the way.
Parents always said soulmates were drawn to each other like magnets, so the chance of attending the same campus was supposedly pretty high.
Wonwoo had lost a pair of socks and found a knitted… something. Neither felt worthy of a bulletin post. Most people posted about sensible things—Bluetooth earphones, shiny USB drives, NFC music keychains from popular idol groups. Sometimes jackets. Sometimes hats.
Normal things.
Both of Wonwoo’s closest friends had met their soulmates through the bulletin.
Soonyoung met Jihoon after Jihoon posted that he’d found a tiger-printed baseball jacket. Junhui met Minghao—who was a year younger—when he posted about losing a T-shirt signed by Jackie Chan. Minghao replied, and just like that, they found their soulmates.
“You could just post about your Foxdungee socks, you know,” Soonyoung said while munching on his ramyeon. The three of them were having lunch together in the cafeteria. “No one would judge.”
“Stop,” Wonwoo muttered as he rummaged through his bag. “Calling him—” he pulled out books, earphones, and what felt like a million pens, “—Foxdungee. I’m not naming my socks.” He then flipped the bag upside down.
“I mean the fox on it,” Soonyoung said. “The one that looks like you. Blurry sharp eyes, glasses. That’s why your brother bought them. It’s called Foxdungee, right?” He looked at Junhui, who only shrugged while slurping his ramyeon.
“And what are you doing anyway? Why are you dumping your stuff like that?” Soonyoung added.
“Did you lose something, Wonu-yah?” Jun finally asked, glancing around the table even though he clearly had no idea what Wonwoo was looking for.
“I lost my glasses.”
That was when both Soonyoung and Jun finally noticed.
Wonwoo without his glasses was alarming. His eyesight was terrible, those frames were practically part of his face.
“Which pair? Soonyoung asked. “No offense, but you’ve got, like, a gazillion pairs.”
“The golden circle-frame ones,” Wonwoo sighed. “They’re light. I like them.”
Soonyoung’s face lit up. “This is your moment. Post it!”
“I don't have a photo.”
“It’s your lucky day, because I do!” Junhui said, already scrolling through his phone at lightning speed. “Here!”
Wonwoo leaned in and instantly deflated when he saw it. “No. I’m not posting my face.”
“Why? You look good,” Junhui complained, showing the photo to Soonyoung, who nodded enthusiastically while trying to swallow a mouthful of ramyeon.
“No. Unless you can Photoshop it to show only the glasses, forget it.”
Found
“Knock, knock! Wonwoo, can I borrow your chemistry notes? I was late and missed the first lecture.”
Jeonghan stepped into the room casually. They were both freshmen in dentistry and lived in the same dorm. Soonyoung and Jun, who went to the same high school as Wonwoo, were in different faculties now—dance and acting under the arts department. But they still got together for lunch whenever their schedules didn’t collide.
“Sure,” Wonwoo said, eyes glued to his laptop and fingers flying over the keyboard “They’re in my bag. I’m in the middle of a stage—if I lose, I have to restart from the beginning.”
“Okay.” Jeonghan shrugged and searched for the bag, eventually finding the black backpack on the floor near the bed. He dug inside and grabbed the first binder he saw.
It was black, with a big green M sticker on it.
“Bad news,” Jeonghan said lightly as he went through the pages. “I think your soulmate is going to get a bad grade on his next exam.”
“Huh?” Wonwoo paused the game after finally clearing the stage and turned to him.
“Good news is,” Jeonghan added, “Pretty sure he’s from architecture.”
Lost
“I want the ground to swallow me whole.”
Junhui and Soonyoung, who had just joined them with their lunch trays, both raised an eyebrow, while Jeonghan simply rolled his eyes and shrugged. It was the trio’s weekly lunch date, and since they were eating at the dentistry cafeteria, Jeonghan joined them as well.
“I’m socially deceased,” Wonwoo added as he deflated onto the cafeteria table, probably trying to merge with it.
“He lost his porn stash. Now his soulmate will know how filthy our little Wonwoo’s mind is,” Jeonghan supplied unhelpfully—perhaps a little too eager to broadcast Wonwoo’s misery.
“Hey, it’s imported and very expensive literature,” Wonwoo frowned. “Don’t reduce it to some random erotic novels.”
“It’s porn,” Jeonghan repeated, stuffing his mouth with tuna kimbap.
Wonwoo huffed. “It has a very good plot. Worth every dime and penny I spent, mind you.”
“Still porn.”
“Told you, just try Wattpad or AO3.” Junhui said, his chopsticks already moving through his bento. “Online. Free. Excellent filth.”
“It’s not filth,” Wonwoo argued, biting into a dumpling in annoyance. “It’s a good story with a little spice and steam. Like this dumpling—steamy and spicy. No one likes plain dumplings, right? I like my stories hot, just like my food. Sue me.”
“Your soulmate will,” Jeonghan said lightly. “If he fails his exam.”
“Wait—what?” Soonyoung finally spoke up. “What did he do this time?”
“He found his soulmate’s binder with important stuff,” Jeonghan said. “I told him to post it, but he didn’t want to listen.”
“I swear I was about to,” Wonwoo frowned. “But then my novel disappeared. I can’t face him now. He’ll know I read Exciting Paradise, and he’ll judge me—hard. This was supposed to be a secret I took to the grave.”
Soonyoung laughed so hard he nearly choked.
“Hey,” Junhui said suddenly, ignoring Wonwoo’s groans, “Do you at least know who he is? The binder must have a name on it, right?”
“All we know is he’s from architecture and probably has an M initial,” Jeonghan replied as Wonwoo finished his dumpling.
“I think he likes green,” Wonwoo added between bites. “The sticker’s green, and I once found a green marker. Might be a reach.”
The three of them nodded while Wonwoo shrugged.
“So,” Junhui summarized, “architecture, initial M, and probably likes green.”
Jeonghan looked thoughtful. Soonyoung’s eyes wandered around the cafeteria.
“Speaking of green,” Junhui said casually, “that huge good-looking guy over there in the green shirt—isn’t he from architecture?”
The entire table snapped their heads toward where Junhui was pointing.
“He is! One year under,” Jeonghan said excitedly. “I know because he’s my soulmate’s junior. His name is… uh—what is his name?”
“He's hot.”
“His smile is blinding. Wonwoo, you hit the jackpot!” Soonyoung exclaimed, slapping Wonwoo’s shoulder.
Wonwoo barely heard them. Because while everyone else admired the nameless guy, Wonwoo focused on something else entirely. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the keyring hanging from the stranger’s backpack.
A limited-edition mini buldak ramyeon.
The same one Wonwoo had gotten after eating twenty-five packs in a week.
Did the guy like spicy noodles too?
Or… was that his keyring?
Wonwoo finally looked at him properly.
Short, masculine hair framed a face kissed warmly by the sun. His features were sharp, his jaw beautifully chiseled, as if carved by God himself. A tall nose, eyes bright, pink lips curved into a smile that made the room brighter. He looked so kind that everyone in the cafeteria couldn’t help but feel a little smitten at the sight of him. He was tall—taller than Wonwoo, who was already “lamp-post tall,” according to Jeonghan. Broad, strong, but not intimidating.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
Impossible.
There was no way someone like that was his soulmate.
It couldn’t be him.
Found
A soft tinkling sound caught Wonwoo’s attention as he rummaged through his backpack. His fingers brushed against something cold, and he pulled it out.
…Spoons?
A set of measuring spoons—large, medium, small.
Wonwoo couldn’t cook to save his life. He’d nearly been kicked out of the dorm during his first week because he almost burned down the dorm boiling water for buldak ramyeon. Still, after years of watching baking competitions on TLC, he knew what these were.
So… was his soulmate also a baker?
A chef?
“Knock, knock!” Jeonghan knocked and entered without waiting. “We’re ordering Thai for dinner. You want in?” He paused. “What’s that?”
Wonwoo showed him the spoons.
“Isn't that…” Jeonghan trailed off.
“Measuring spoons. Not mine, I just found it in my bag,” Wonwoo shrugged and then walked away to put it inside the Lost and Found bin inside his closet.
“Oh.” Jeonghan nodded. His expression twisted briefly into something unreadable—then he smiled. “So, Pad Thai?”
Lost
By the time Wonwoo looked up from his papers, it was already seven in the evening. He’d spent the entire afternoon buried in the library, only realizing how late it was when his stomach protested loudly enough to be embarrassing—even alone. Maybe he’d finish the rest in his dorm, where it was warm.
He considered grabbing a frozen bento from the convenience store. Maybe a beef burger too. With that in mind, he shoved his books and laptop into his backpack and headed out, weaving through the shelves. Then he saw it—a familiar back, a green baseball cap worn backward.
Probably someone from his batch, he thought. But he wasn’t in the mood for greetings or half-hearted conversations, so he passed by without slowing down, without looking back.
It might’ve been a random thought brought on by hunger, but the green cap reminded him of his soulmate. Things would be so much easier if his soulmate lost something obvious—clothes he could post online, or better yet, a student card he could simply return.
But then again… where was the fun in that?
What fascinated Wonwoo about having a soulmate was the process itself. The slow discovery. The chase. And he liked the chase more than he cared to admit.
The moment he stepped into the library foyer, the wind hit him hard, cold enough that he could feel his lips cracking and sting. He dug through his hoodie pocket for his strawberry lip balm, but it was gone.
Wonwoo sighed, then shrugged. Somewhere out there, his soulmate would be enjoying nicely moisturized lips.
“Yeah,” he muttered, amused. “You’re welcome.”
Found
After dinner, Wonwoo decided to take a warm bath before returning to his papers. He walked to his closet and picked the fluffiest hoodie and pajama pants he owned to survive the cold. When he opened the drawer to grab his underwear, he froze.
A black boxer that definitely didn’t belong to him sat neatly on top of his clothes.
Calvin Klein.
He never owned that brand.
Heat rushed to his face immediately. He told himself it was just the buldak sauce from earlier.
Definitely the buldak sauce.
God. When I said piece of clothing, I meant hats. Hoodies. Normal things. Not… this.
A familiar face suddenly surfaced in his mind. The architecture guy in the green shirt. And suddenly, he realized how similar his build was to the guy in the green cap he’d seen in the library.
Wonwoo shut the drawer a little too fast. He decided to blame his Oral and Maxillofacial Pathology papers for making him tired and delusional. Because really—someone that effortlessly handsome and him?
Awkward, shy Wonwoo?
It’s a total mismatch.
Lost and Found
“There’s this party this weekend,” Jeonghan said, almost too casually, as they ate lunch together. This time, it was Soonyoung and Junhui’s turn to host, which meant Wonwoo—and Jeonghan, who had invited himself without shame—were now seated in the art faculty cafeteria.
“I’m listening,” Soonyoung replied, already halfway through his sandwich.
Wonwoo, already sensing disaster, raised a hand. “Can I say no?”
“No,” Jeonghan said, smiling.
It was the kind of smile that promised chaos.
“Figures,” Wonwoo muttered, surrendering as he stabbed his sausage and ate it in small, defeated bites.
Junhui leaned closer. “What’s your reason for bailing this time?”
“It’s game night,” Wonwoo tried weakly. “I just want to play.”
“Not good enough,” Jeonghan replied, voice final. “You’re coming.”
“I’m in,” Junhui announced, stealing Soonyoung’s fries despite the offended noise that followed. “Can I bring Minghao?”
“Of course. It’s a surprise birthday party for one of my soulmate’s friends. I told my soulmate I was coming with you guys, and he said, the more the merrier.”
A party was the last thing Wonwoo wanted after such a long, exhausting week. Still, maybe—maybe—once everyone got drunk or distracted by their soulmates, he could quietly disappear.
…………
Here’s the thing about the party.
Good point: the party turned out to feel more like a cozy small gathering of thirteen people. They held it in Jeonghan's soulmate’s—Seungcheol—dorm afterall. To be honest, thirteen people is already a push; more than that, security would definitely kick all of them out.
Bad point: since it's only thirteen people, Wonwoo couldn't execute his plan to flee early unnoticed.
Good point: the food was amazing, and there was more than enough soda for Wonwoo, who firmly refused alcohol.
Bad point: no seafood. No fake allergy. No dramatic excuse.
Good point: he was there.
Mingyu.
The guy who had been living rent-free in Wonwoo’s head for days now.
Apparently, Mingyu, Seungcheol, and the birthday boy, Joshua, were all architecture majors from the same friend circle. Wonwoo hated how small the world suddenly felt.
Bad point: Mingyu looked unfairly good that night. A fitted black shirt, dark jeans, hair styled just enough to look effortless. When Jeonghan introduced them, Mingyu’s hand lingered in Wonwoo’s for a second longer than necessary. He smelled heavenly.
Wonwoo was fairly sure those dark brown eyes followed him the entire night.
Either that, or someone had spiked his soda.
Good point: his friends were drunk enough to lose their minds—maybe this was his chance to escape.
Bad point: his friends were drunk enough to suggest drinking games.
Good point: all of Wonwoo’s close friends were there.
Bad point: all of Wonwoo’s close friends were there.
Which was why they were now dragging him into the game, with Jeonghan far too enthusiastic about it.
It's the classic—truth or dare.
The spun bottle would decide who was chosen, but no one got to pick between truth or dare. It had to be truth followed by dare. Depending on luck, each person would end up with one or the other.
Wonwoo ended up sitting across from Mingyu. He was supposed to sit across from Jeonghan, but Jeonghan had switched seats with Mingyu so he could sit next to “the love of his life”—which Wonwoo knew was just an excuse to shove him straight into the hot seat across from his secret crush.
Karma worked fast.
Jeonghan was picked first.
And he got truth.
“So,” Joshua started, “tell me about the bracelet you both own. Heard it was supposed to be Cheol’s, but you didn’t answer his post so he had to buy another one?”
Jeonghan shrugged, shameless. “What belongs to my soulmate belongs to me.”
Seungcheol just laughed, shaking his head. “We almost didn’t meet because he kept hoarding my stuff.”
“Not my fault your clothes are cozy,” Jeonghan replied, eyes soft with affection.
The game continued.
Joshua’s dare involved a trot song and an enthusiastic lap dance for his soulmate. Wonwoo had always thought he was the chill one—but apparently, he was just as unhinged as Jeonghan.
Wonwoo suffered intense secondhand embarrassment and stared firmly at the floor.
When he dared to glance up—
Mingyu was already looking at him.
Wonwoo looked away first.
He was successfully dodging the tip of the green bottle for these couple of rounds. But then his luck ran out soon after.
Wonwoo got truth.
Jeonghan’s smile sharpened. “Tell us the last thing you found.”
Wonwoo froze.
“Uh,” he said, heat rushing to his face. The last thing he found was that abominable Calvin Klein boxer—but there was no way he was announcing that to twelve other people.
“I, uh—found spoons?”
“Really?” Jeonghan’s smirk widened. He looked like he could smell Wonwoo’s fear.
Wonwoo couldn’t face him anymore. He turned his gaze forward—and that was his mistake.
Mingyu was smiling at him.
Not teasing. Not smug. Just… gentle. Encouraging. Like he was telling Wonwoo it was okay, whatever he was about to say.
Damn it.
Mingyu wasn’t even doing anything. Just sitting there, smiling softly—and Wonwoo was already falling head over heels. What chance did he have if Mingyu looked at him like that?
Wonwoo completely lost his mind.
“Fine,” he blurted out, words spilling before he could stop them, eyes darting everywhere but at Jeonghan—and definitely not at the guy he secretly, desperately wanted to be his soulmate. “I found a box—”
He cleared his throat, suddenly itchy.
“A boxer.”
“What kind of boxer?” Jeonghan asked, voice far too kind for Wonwoo’s liking. He didn’t need to look to know the smile was pure evil.
Wonwoo turned to his friends for help—only to find Soonyoung completely passed out on Jihoon’s shoulder, Junhui watching with unsettling interest, and the rest of them clearly invested in his downfall.
He sighed, defeated. Too late now.
“You know,” he muttered. “Black. Calvin Klein.”
Someone gasped.
When Wonwoo finally looked up, Jeonghan was smirking in pure satisfaction—and Mingyu, seated beside him, looked genuinely stunned.
“Thank you,” Junhui finally broke the silence. “Now spin the bottle, Wonu-yah.”
Maybe fate decided to join the game too, because the tip of the bottle pointed directly at Mingyu.
“I dare you,” Seungcheol said brightly, far too excited for Wonwoo’s liking, “to kiss someone without a soulmate.”
Soonyoung—who had finally woken up after God knows how long—suddenly butted in. “What are you, a fifth grader? I proposed seven minutes in heaven.”
“Nah,” Seungcheol smirked. “Let them do it here. I wanna see.”
Wonwoo thought Jeonghan and Seungcheol really were a match made in heaven. Both of them were on the same level of unhinged.
He felt bad for Mingyu.
But at the same time… he couldn’t help secretly hoping Mingyu would choose him.
Out of the thirteen people there, only five of them hadn’t met their soulmate yet. Besides him and Mingyu, there was a very good-looking half-Korean guy named Vernon, a feisty but cute Seungkwan, and the sweet youngest, Lee Chan.
From what Wonwoo had seen all night, Mingyu seemed closest to Seungkwan.
So he’d probably choose him.
God, if he chooses me, I will—
Wonwoo hadn’t even finished praying when Mingyu said his name.
“Wonwoo.”
Yes, God. I’m Wonwoo. If Mingyu chooses me, I’ll—
“What are you doing, idiot?” Soonyoung shoved him forward. “He’s calling you.”
Wonwoo stumbled his way to the middle of the circle, blinking as Mingyu smiled at him again—that same soft, angelic smile that had already ruined him once tonight.
They sat across from each other, surrounded by the others.
“Hi,” Mingyu said. “We meet again.”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied timidly. “I—”
“Can I kiss you?”
Mingyu didn’t even let him finish.
Wonwoo froze. “Uh—”
But then he saw it. The hopeful look in Mingyu’s eyes. Careful. Asking.
Who was he to refuse someone like that?
So he nodded, silently—and Mingyu didn’t wait another second before leaning in, lips brushing against Wonwoo’s.
He tasted warm. Sweet. Familiar.
Like his favorite strawberry lip balm.
Wonwoo didn’t know what to do at first. Panic hit him late, and awkwardness followed immediately—but then, like his lips had a mind of their own, they started moving hesitantly against Mingyu’s fuller ones. He thought it must be awkward for Mingyu. Kissing someone who clearly didn’t know what he was doing.
Embarrassed, Wonwoo tried to pull back—but instead, a pair of large hands caught him, pulling him closer, lifting him onto Mingyu’s lap. Mingyu followed, not letting the kiss break for long before pressing another one—still gentle, still slow.
It wasn’t a full make-out. Mingyu was careful, keeping it sweet, unhurried—enough to send butterflies exploding in Wonwoo’s stomach, but decent enough for the very much present audience.
Wonwoo had never dared to wish for something like this.
And honestly, he didn’t want it to end.
But after a while, his brain started screaming for oxygen, and he realized—vaguely—that they’d probably been kissing for longer than appropriate.
Cheers erupted when they finally pulled apart.
Or maybe they’d been cheering the whole time. Wonwoo’s ears had refused to register anyone who wasn’t Mingyu.
“Thought you wouldn’t stop if not for preserving your life,” Jeonghan teased.
As the world slowly snapped back into place, Wonwoo realized something important.
He was still sitting on Mingyu’s lap.
Flustered, he tried to move—when something fell between them with a soft clink.
It was a limited-edition buldak keyring.
Something Wonwoo used to have.
Something he was sure he had once seen hanging from Mingyu’s backpack.
He picked it up carefully, fingers trembling as he turned it over.
There it was—his initial, written in purple marker.
J.W.
Wonwoo slowly looked up.
Mingyu was already watching him, smiling like he’d been waiting all along.
“Hey,” Mingyu said softly.
“Soulmate.”
…………….
Epilogue
“It’s a potato,” Mingyu said seriously as they sorted through the things they’d accidentally exchanged a week after the party.
Wonwoo blinked.
Apparently, Jeonghan had already suspected that Mingyu and Wonwoo were soulmates. He’d convinced Seungcheol and Joshua to host the party—supposedly for Joshua’s birthday, but really as a soulmate reveal.
Wonwoo honestly didn’t know how to thank him. If it weren’t for Jeonghan, he and Mingyu might still be orbiting each other through lost socks and lip balm.
“I named it Kimja,” Mingyu continued, holding up the knitted doll. “My grandmother made it for me when I was a kid. I really liked potatoes.”
“That’s… adorable,” Wonwoo said, smiling—absolutely never admitting that he’d once thought it was a poop doll.
“And this?” Wonwoo’s eyes widened when he spotted Exciting Paradise in Mingyu’s hands.
“Jeonghan said you cried over it for hours.”
Never mind.
Wonwoo officially revoked all gratitude.
“Was it harder,” Mingyu asked gently, amused, “losing your dignity—or your expensive novel?”
“Oh, shut up,” Wonwoo groaned, leaning into Mingyu’s side anyway.
Yeah. Turns out lost things didn’t really disappear.
They just ended up exactly where they were meant to be.