Work Text:
“Remember the pickleball club I told you about last week?” Hanbin asks as Matthew enters their shared apartment. The latter furrows his brows and places his sneakers on the shoe rack.
“The one Hao-hyung recently joined?” Matthew asks.
“Yep!” Hanbin replies, emphasizing the p sound with a pop.
Matthew hangs his keys on one of their wall hooks, then he faces Hanbin, who is casually manspreading on a loveseat. “What about it?”
“Well, Haohao asked me to pick him up earlier, and he introduced me to his friends!” Hanbin narrows the gap between his legs and scoots a bit before patting the space beside him. Matthew waves him off, so he shrugs and reverts to manspreading.
“Please tell me you acted normal around them,” Matthew quipped, rolling his eyes. He can imagine Hanbin fussing over Hao in an embarrassing manner, or worse, Hanbin setting him up with someone without asking him first (again).
“Excuse me?!” Hanbin scoffs, fishing out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. “I was perfectly normal around my boyfriend and his friends, thank you very much!”
“Sure.”
“No, I was really—”
“If you say so.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, shutting up.” Matthew grins and zips his mouth when Hanbin playfully glares at him. He chuckles to himself and evades his friend’s temper by finding himself a drink. He grabs a can of beer from their fridge and spots Hanbin busily typing something on his phone when he looks back.
“Too bad one of Haohao’s friends walked straight out of your high school diary,” Hanbin says, sighing as he focuses on his device.
“My w-what?” Matthew sputters, leaving his newly opened can of beer on their breakfast counter as he walks back to Hanbin.
Hanbin wordlessly shows Matthew his phone screen, where a picture of a shirtless man wearing sunglasses is on display. The man is half-submerged in a pool, his wet hair strewn as the sunlight illuminates the rest of his body.
Matthew gapes. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, and he lowkey wishes he could turn into a scientifically modified fish that is immune to chlorine so he can jump into that swimming pool and see the rest of the man’s assets.
“He’s tall, has wide shoulders, great muscles, and is objectively handsome,” says Hanbin with a grin. “He can sing, dance, play sports, and he used to excel in school too. He’s beauty, brains, and brawn in one. Hence—”
“He’s straight out of my high school boyfriend wishlist,” Matthew concludes, his eyes still glued to the screen.
“Yep! He checks all your superficial boxes, and since he’s friends with Haohao, I’m sure that he—”
“Is a decent human being without questionable morals and political beliefs.”
“Uh-huh! And he’s not a complete stranger to you, either!”
“What do you mean?” Matthew asks, meeting his friend’s eyes after a while.
Hanbin levels him with a flat look. “Don’t you recognize him?” When Matthew shakes his head, he adds, “What the hell, Matthew-ya. That’s Park Gunwook! Remember?”
Matthew gapes once more. He looks back and forth between Hanbin and the picture. “What did you say his name was again?” he asks, eyes wide open in disbelief as he finally plops down next to his childhood friend on the couch.
“Park Gunwook,” Hanbin replies with a smirk—the kind he usually reserves for when he wants to piss off his friends. He’s never failed. Until now.
Matthew is so shocked that he ignores the teasing glint in his friend’s eyes. “You mean the same Park Gunwook from our high school dance club?”
“The one and only.”
“Like,” Matthew pauses, narrowing his eyes at Hanbin’s phone as if it personally offended him before saying, “the one who used to have a crush on me? The mantou-cheeked boy who kept following me around?”
“Yes! The first-year you friend-zoned because he was, in your own words, ‘a baby,’ and you did not want to entertain someone ‘babier’ than you.” Hanbin says, making air-quotes with his fingers for emphasis. He slowly swipes on his screen to show Matthew the rest of the pictures, which are a blend of post-gym selcas, Strava running stats, and screenshots of workout playlists. “Not so baby now!”
“Huh.”
“I agree.”
“Damn.”
“That word is an understatement.”
“Holy shit, hyung,” Matthew gasps, then he snatches his friend’s phone to scroll through Gunwook’s other posts by himself. They’re mostly weekly dumps of his activities, both solo and with his friends, and they always include a scenic view, a cat cafe, and at least one clear picture of his abs or thighs.
Hanbin chuckles. “I know right?”
“Do you think he’ll reply if I send him a DM?” Matthew asks as he takes out his phone and pulls up Gunwook’s Instagram. He sends a follow request, locks his screen, then resumes scrolling through the posts on Hanbin’s phone.
“What will you even tell him after all these years?” Hanbin asks, looking at his friend intently. He’s ready to snatch his phone back if Matthew ever double-taps on anything.
“I don’t know,” Matthew groans, squirming when he sees another mirror selca of Gunwook in a compression shirt, the outline of his 6-pack clear as day. “Maybe I’ll ask him out to catch up or something? I mean, when the fuck did he even get this hot?”
“Hm, I don't know… he’s still cute to me,” Hanbin says, suppressing a smile as Matthew fights for his life. He feigns disinterest while side-eyeing his friend. “I actually pinched his cheeks earlier. It made Haohao laugh.”
Matthew curses under his breath. “Of course he’s still cute! Look at that smile! He’s so adorable!” He locks Hanbin’s screen and throws the phone onto its owner’s lap. “I’m so doomed!”
Hanbin breaks into a laugh. “You’ll live. It’s not as if you were mean to him before.”
“Hyung, I ignored him back then,” Matthew whines, making Hanbin wince. His phone pings, and the notifications he sees make him spring up to his feet.
