Chapter Text
Hansol is sort of aware Chan isn't an option before he even raises his knuckles to wrap on his door, sheepish expression already etched onto his features. But he's walked through the cold to get here, so he still knocks, fidgeting with his coat sleeve as he waits for the door to open. When it does— eventually— Chan squints at him.
"Did we have plans?"
"Can I live here?" Hansol asks before Chan can even finish his question. He should have waited, he thinks. They could have this conversation inside rather than lingering in the doorway, Chan's neighbours slipping in and out of the dorm rooms down the hall. But Hansol's been trying to find a solution for the better half of his day, and he's at his wits end, his outburst feeling warranted.
Chan blinks before he opens the door further. "Do you want to come in?"
Hansol's coat drops onto the desk chair, his shoes landing next to Chan's bed as he throws himself onto the duvet. "I need you."
"You're not my type."
"I need you to be serious," Hansol groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. He can hear the shuffle of Chan sitting on his coat, the creak of his chair as he settles. There's familiarity in the space. Hansol often spends afternoons here, lounging on the end of Chan's bed after classes, muttering things about movies they should see together. It's small, he thinks. It feel a little suffocating at times. But Hansol is desperate. "I need to stay for a few weeks."
Chan's laugh bounces off the walls, a quiet gasp for air echoing as he sends himself into another fit. "Stay here? You want to stay here? In this room? With me? For a few weeks? Here?!"
It's not funny, Hansol thinks. This is his life. His fucked up life.
He pushes himself up, frowning at his amused friend. "The pipes in the apartment upstairs burst. And then our pipes burst. There's just water damage everywhere, and a huge hole in the ceiling, and—" He cuts himself off, a frustrated sigh forcing it's way out of him. Their flat is a mess, dust from the debris that fell in their living room, water damage in their kitchen. "We need to move out while they work on repairs, and I have nowhere to go."
Chan doesn't look as entertained anymore. In fact, he looks positively empathetic as he chews on his cheek. "I hate to say I told you so," he solemnly starts, "but I told you to get campus housing like me."
He had. He'd told Hansol how fun it would be to be neighbours, how nice it would be to avoid the subway in the mornings, how they could get dinner in their favourite burger spot more often. Hansol, however, opted not to. When his older brother offered his spare room for the taking, it had felt an obvious choice; it was bigger than the dorms, cheaper, and he'd have more privacy than on a floor filled with college students ready to party every night.
Besides, Hansol likes taking the subway every morning.
Still, now he regrets it. There's no hole in Chan's ceiling. There's not even a speck of dust on his desk, or a water stain by his door. "I don't even have room for a couch, and if you sleep in the armchair your back will get all sorts of fucked up."
Hansol knows he's right. He still sighs, the feeling of being let down somewhat expected. "I don't know what to do."
"Did you ask Seungkwan?"
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Seungkwan. He has a flat! The fold out sofa in his living room would do Hansol just fine. It would probably be more comfortable than his own bed— Seungkwan is the type to buy an expensive fold out mattress despite the fact it will only get three or four uses a year.
But Seungkwan also has Minghao.
"I can't stay there again."
"C'mon," Chan huffs, already beginning to laugh. "They can't be that loud!"
Hansol cringes as he remembers it. Minghao has been his friend for almost as long as Seungkwan, their relationship mainly consisting of sharing files to new music, and drinking overpriced coffee. He hadn't been able to look him in the eye after spending the night on Seungkwan's pull-out couch, however. The noises coming through the wall had been a little traumatising.
"I can't stay there."
"Well, it doesn't really sound like you have any other option." Hansol blanches, looking away. Chan doesn't take more than a second to notice, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "What's that face? What are you not saying?"
He cringes at himself. He wishes, in that moment, that he could lie better. But his best friend is hard to lie to. "Well, Wonwoo offered."
It's quiet again, Chan clearly processing the idea. Then he's laughing again, the noise louder than earlier, body shaking as he slaps the side of his desk. He's a dickhead, Hansol thinks. "Wonwoo offered? Wonwoo?"
Hansol groans, hands moving to cover his face. "Cheol was telling him about the leak, and about how he's going to Jeonghan's, and Wonwoo asked about me, I guess—"
"Awh, Wonwoo asked about you," Chan cuts in. "So cute."
"Shut up," he huffs. "Anyway, he said I could stay at his if I need. He's just being a friend. To Cheol, I mean. He's helping Cheol out, because I'm Cheol's responsibility, so it's—"
"You should stay with Wonwoo."
"No way!"
"Yes way!" Chan insists. "This is perfect!"
It's not perfect. Not to Hansol. It feels like a disaster waiting to happen, a car crash in slow motion.
But Chan is getting up, grabbing his hoodie. "I was going to get lunch. You wanna come, or are you too busy moping?"
He's not sure how he's meant to eat in a time of crisis like this, but Hansol reluctantly clambers to his feet, reaching for his coat.
"I really do think you should give it a chance," Chan says as Hansol fiddles with his zip. "I mean, apart from it being your only option, it could also be good for you. Maybe you'll get over your huge embarrassing crush if you have to share a space with him. Maybe he lets his dishes pile up, or his dirty socks out! You could get the ick, and break the cycle."
Hansol's lips smooth into a line as he shrugs. "I guess…"
Chan claps him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine."
🪣
Except, Hansol is sure he won't be fine.
Jeon Wonwoo is tall, broad shouldered, and quiet. He looks like he works out— not too much but enough. He also looks like he could be some sort of male model, his glasses slipping down his nose in a way that's practically artful, his boring hoodies always framing his figure in a way that looks purposeful rather than something he just threw on.
He's also Hansol's brother's best friend, however.
The pair met in school, video games becoming their favourite way to spend a weekend. Hansol would often shuffle downstairs on a Saturday morning to find Wonwoo clutching a controller, lounging on his couch next to his brother. Hansol was enamoured from about age twelve, staring at fourteen year old Wonwoo from across the dining room table on evenings when their mother insisted he stay for dinner. He's sure, looking back, that he wasn't very subtle. He'd openly gawk as Wonwoo picked at his food, eyes tracking the chopsticks careful movements.
They'd talk on occasion, just passing smalltalk that Wonwoo probably felt he had to make with Seungcheol's dorky kid brother. He'd ask Hansol what books he was reading, how his music hobbies were going, if he had any movie recommendations. He'd even tell Hansol when he watched them, asking how Hansol liked them.
Hansol would usually clam up during these conversations.
He did his best to ignore Wonwoo when they saw each other at school, ducking his head to avoid openly staring at him in the halls. But Wonwoo often stopped by his locker to say hi, sometimes offered Hansol lifts home on days he knew Seungcheol was busy. He was too nice, Hansol often thought.
And then they'd gotten into college.
It was something Hansol knew was coming, but still surprised him when he saw Wonwoo on his last day of high school. His uniform still looked pristine, his hair a little mussed from hugging his classmates goodbye. He'd stopped right in front of Hansol, beaming down at him, backpack still hanging off one shoulder. "Ah, Hansollie, speak up these last two years. They're the best,"
Then he'd tugged Hansol into a hug, making him promise to keep in touch.
It wasn't hard to keep in touch. Seungcheol and Wonwoo ended up at the same university. In their second year. they ended up renting a tiny flat together, Hansol often ending up on their couch when he went to concerts in the city.
"He likes it when you come around," Seungcheol assured him one morning, pushing a cup of coffee towards his younger brother. Wonwoo had just left, barely saying a word, accepting the slice of toast Seungcheol offered him on his way out the door. He'd also given Hansol a small smile, nodding once before the door closed behind him. "He always asks about you, y'know?"
Hansol had blinked. He was only in town for a a tour of their college, his admission papers due soon. "He does?"
Seungcheol had simply chuckled, pushing a plate of toast towards him. "We're going out soon. Eat up."
He didn't linger on it. Really, he barely thought about it. He had exams, and admissions, and graduation to focus on. He couldn't possibly pour his energy into examining what exactly 'always' could entail.
But occasionally he remembered it.
Like now, standing in Wonwoo's apartment, bags by his feet.
"Sorry the place is—" Wonwoo cuts himself off, sheepishly smiling. "Well, it's the tidiest it's been in a while, but still—"
"No, it's perfect," Hansol rushes to say. "Really."
Wonwoo smiles at him, head tilting. "Bedroom is that way, bathroom opposite it. The room at the end of the hall is just my office-game room."
"Oh, cool."
"You can use it, though. If you need."
Hansol offers him a small smile, hesitantly dragging his suitcase through the living room, down the hall. He's not sure what he expects, but one bedroom really isn't it.
"Hyung?"
Wonwoo materialises a moment later, one arm hanging out of the hoodie he's half pulled off. "What's wrong?"
"I can't take your bed."
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, and for a moment, Hansol worries he's been too presumptive. "But he seems to have guessed Wonwoo's intentions correctly as he shrugs. "I can take the couch."
"I thought you said you had a room."
"Yeah, this is the room."
"Hyung."
Wonwoo chuckles, shrugging again. "The couch is comfortable, stop worrying."
"I'll sleep there, then!" Hansol rushes to offer.
"No way! You have classes, and stuff. Trust me, I'm fine. I've fallen asleep on that thing more times than I can count after playing games all night. It really won't bean issue for me to spend a few nights there."
Hansol blinks. He's so selfless, his brain hopelessly supplies. It's terrible for him.
"Are you sure?"
"Stop worrying, Hansollie," Wonwoo warns in a warm voice. "Just make yourself at home."
🪣
Hansol taps the side of the table, the quiet thud offering great distraction from his film analysis essay that he's been staring at for the past three hours. Chan is actually working. He's making notes for his economic history class, pen sweeping across the page, head bowed.
"I'm sleeping in his bed," he finally says. He's been weighing the admission since he arrived, his past two nights at Wonwoo's flat eating him alive. He'd woken the first morning, trudging to the coffee for kitchen, only to stop in the living room when he saw Wonwoo.
It was pitiful really. He's a tall guy— taller than Hansol. Hansol mentally kicks himself for not considering that before. He considers it in that moment, however, eyes stuck on the way Wonwoo's ankles hang over the arm of the couch, his neck bent at an angle as he tries to keep his head on the small cushion.
This morning he'd stumbled across the same sight, Wonwoo's blanket half-fallen on the floor, too. He can't help the guilt that twists in his gut as he considers it.
"Sounds like a dream," Chan shrugs, popping a chocolate into his mouth. "You're in your crush's bed. What's not to like?"
"He's an adult," Hansol mutters. Two years doesn't really feel enough to justify calling him that when Wonwoo is already twenty-two, almost finished a degree of his own But he just means Wonwoo has a proper job. There are things in his life he has to prepare for everyday.
Unlike Hansol.
"Try not to sound turned on when you say that, please."
"I'm not!" Hansol snaps.
"Mmmh… He's so adult… He has a big important job… He wears a tie… Ugh…" Chan replies, voice breathy. He even bites his lip for good measure.
Hansol wishes he had something to whack him with, but the glare from the librarian makes Chan duck in shame in a much more satisfying way than Hansol could ever have managed himself.
They're silent for a few moments until she rounds a shelf, disappearing as Chan's blush begins to subside. "I just mean he has things he needs to be prepared for. He needs a full night of sleep."
"So, you take the couch."
Hansol groans, dropping his head onto the desk. "He won't let me."
Chan hums quietly. "Why don't you just sleep with him?"
Hansol raises his head, eyebrows drawn. "Excuse me?"
"It's a double bed, right? Just take one side, he can take the other, and you can get over this ridiculous guilt and stop moping."
It sounds like a simple solution, but Hansol's not sure he's ever heard something so complicated in his life. Just ask Wonwoo to sleep with him? What would he even say? What if Wonwoo thinks he's a freak? What if Wonwoo kicks him out, and he's forced to sleep on Seungkwan's couch hearing him moan through the walls again?
He's still weighing his options when he gets back to Wonwoo's flat, letting himself in with the spare key he gave him. There's no good way to approach it, he decides. He shouldn't even suggest it, really.
Yet somehow, "Do you think we should sleep together?" Stumbles out of his mouth when Wonwoo arrives home yawning, still fiddling with the knot of his tie.
He blinks, eyes wider when he opens them again. Hansol wants to crawl into a corner and die, a little bit. But he stands his ground, trying to filter through a million thoughts to explain his reasoning.
"I just— the bed is big enough for two of us, right? And, you're not comfortable on the couch, and you won't let me sleep there, so I just—" He flushes, the words tripping through his mind making him want to squirm. "Maybe we should share your bed. Together. Sleeping there."
Wonwoo's fingers go back to undoing his tie, his eyes meeting Hansol's with a small smile. "Really, Hansol, I'm fine on the couch."
"You're too tall for it."
"It's only a few days."
It's stupid, but a feeling of rejection churns in Hansol's stomach. He's sure he could have worded it better, of course. But would the answer have remained the same either way?
"Honestly, it's not that bad," Wonwoo continues, cutting through his spiral. "I don't want to take up your space, or make you—"
"You're not making me anything," he cuts in, although he's not even sure what Wonwoo was going to say. "I'm offering. It's your bed. We should both get a good night of sleep, and just share it."
He watches as Wonwoo thinks it over, lips pressed into a firm line before he finally sighs. "I'm just not sure it would be a good idea, Hansol."
A pit opens in Hansol's stomach. This is what he really feared. This is what the guilt nagging at him has finally led to. Wonwoo must know.
It's stupid. He's never been very subtle. He's certain he's stared too much over the years, asked too much, talked too much. There are probably a million little giveaway's to his crush that he never even considered could be showing Wonwoo just how far gone he's been all this time. But this… Basically forcing Wonwoo to jump into bed with him…. How could he be so stupid.
"I really don't want to make you uncomfortable."
Hansol pauses. Those words should have come out of his mouth, but instead Wonwoo is the one to say it, looking a little unsteady at the admission.
"I wouldn't be uncomfortable," he dumbly replies.
It feels as though they're in a stand-off for a moment or two. They stare at one another from across the room, both weighing up how far they'll go for their side of the argument to win.
Hansol comes out victorious, however.
"Fine, but if you change your mind just tell me. I really don't mind the couch."
"Fine," Hansol repeats, ignoring the nervous feeling that swarms his gut.
🪣
Wonwoo sleeps in sweatpants and a t-shirt that says 'Ah' in a periodic table box, 'the element of surprise' written beneath. It makes Hansol laugh when he sees it, his Star Wars t-shirt making him realise how stupid they both look.
"Do you not like it?" Wonwoo asks, glancing at his shirt.
Hansol is already in bed, duvet pulled up to his waist as he sits back to the headboard, watching the older neatly fold his glasses. "No, it's great. Very funny."
"Soonyoung got it for me for Christmas," he mutters.
Hansol has never met Soonyoung but the name churns up a shameful feeling inside of him. He'd spent a month thinking Wonwoo was dating him last year, trying not to be obvious in his moping when they were face to face for a friend of Seungcheol's birthday party.
He only felt better when Seungcheol talked about playing video games with Wonwoo, and Soonyoung's boyfriend Jihoon.
"Well, it's great," Hansol assures.
Wonwoo chuckles, pulling back his side of the duvet, climbing in.
Hansol slept with someone over the summer. They were sort of friends, sort of acquaintances. They'd had a few drinks together, went back to his place, and woken up next to each other the next morning. Hansol is pretty sure that's the last time he shared a bed with someone.
It feels odd that Wonwoo is beside him now, hitting his pillows to plump them up a bit, adjusting the duvet. He's not nervous, he tries to convince himself. It's just sleep. He does it everyday. It's just sleeping next to Wonwoo. He can manage, he reassures himself.
Wonwoo is the one to turn off the light, the noise of them shuffling to lie down filing the space between them in the dark. There's a gap between them, a respectable distance that Hansol can almost see in the pitch black surroundings.
He's not tired, he realises, body feeling a little restless as he lies on his back. He's sure it will take him forever to drift off, his mind filtering through every embarassing thing he could possibly do in his sleep to make Wonwoo hate him.
He's still considering it when Wonwoo rolls over, body facing him. The distance between them feels smaller, Hansol feeling hyper aware of every inch. He swallows.
He closes his eyes eventually, waits for his breathing to even out, waits for sleep to overcome him. It's slow, and he almost feels impatient. But eventually sleep takes over, Hansol's mind letting go of his overthinking to rest.
It's fine, is his final thought. Maybe this isn't that complicated. Maybe the whole sleeping with your brother's best friend can be handled fine.
🪣
When Hansol wakes up with Wonwoo's arms around him, and their bodies pressed together, he realises he might be wrong.