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In the late and quiet night of Seoul, two hearts beat together as one.
Under the stars, beneath a solid roof, and tucked under the covers, Matthew arose to the chime of an alarm. The soft, Pokémon themed melody drifted from his bedside table to his auricle, travelling along toward the eardrum where it vibrated, the information quickly interpreted as a sign to awaken to the darkness of his room.
With a groan and a stretch, a move most definitely taught by his mischievous cat, Matthew rose from the softness of his bed.
His feet padded along the wooden floorboards, the cold sensation further arousing his consciousness.
The routine was simple, easily done on autopilot. A quick trip to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee, and while the water warmed, he would do his business in the bathroom. It consisted of washing his face, brushing his teeth, and possibly having a sudden meeting with the royal throne people preferred to call the toilet. Call Mathew weird, but if he was going to spend a good chunk of the hour sitting on a porcelain stool, he might as well feel entitled to it.
A sweet potato paired well with the slight bitterness of his coffee. He didn’t have much time to make pancakes, nor did Matthew believe Taerae would be the biggest fan of waking up to the smell of burnt batter. He learned early on that Taerae loved his sleep just as much as he loved his cars and gaming set up. May whoever crosses him in the near future prepare their final goodbyes.
Tip toeing back to his room, he entered the spacious sanctuary to grab his bag and clothes. He already planned to go full Ash Ketchum, what’s an adventure without any fun?
If Matthew wasted yet another ten minutes chuckling at the small pack of face paint he shoved in his bag, then sue him. He knew his manager would rock Snorlax, it was just too bad he couldn’t order that jumpsuit in time.
Maybe it was a good thing, he already had someone else in mind that would look much cuter as Snorlax than his hyung.
…
A soft snore emitted from Taerae’s bed, causing Matthew to break into a smile. He closed the door gently before walking down the hallway towards Gunwook’s room.
As Matthew opened the door, he was greeted to the sight of a large mass hidden beneath a black duvet.
His socks dragged along the floor until they reached the edge of the bed. His weight caused a small dip in the mattress as he sat next to the warm body. Matthew lifted his hand before it finally found purchase on Gunwook’s silky locks, combing his hand through the strands, trying not to disturb the giant baby.
Unfortunately, he was too absorbed in the moment to notice a large arm snaking its way around his waist until he was dragged under the covers.
A yelp, shuffle, and yawn happened all at once as Gunwook held Matthew in his embrace. He was still half asleep, just aware enough to know that the small human in his arms was something too precious to let go.
“Gunwook… I have to go now....”
“Just five more minutes…” Gunwook said, snuggling deeper into the fabric nest, dragging Matthew along.
“I’ll be late, I need to drive,” Matthew whined, although he knew he had time. He would make time if it meant he could stay just a little longer with his baby.
Gunwook didn’t respond with words, instead he responded by simply rolling on top of Matthew, completely trapping the smaller male. No matter how much he struggled, pushed or tugged, the foreigner was powerless against the younger. If it was the unfair genetic advantage or the smell of musk and cinnamon that rendered Matthew weak, possibly both, he wasn’t about to complain.
It might have been minutes, or maybe an hour, the blackout curtains they installed really did a number on their circadian cycles. Yet despite the faint voice in his brain yelling at him to get up, Matthew couldn’t have been bothered when he was so comfortable.
It was just something about Gunwook that made the Canadian feel at home.
The way his arms tucked Matthew in warmth, not to make him feel small or weak, but in a way that shielded him from the stress of the day. His natural scent of cinnamon that made Matthew crave his presence the way Matthew craved his favourite cinnamon buns. The nonsensical chatter, teasing remarks, and late night talks.
It was incredible how Gunwook made Matthew feel like Matthew, as if existing alone wasn’t an option in the first place.
“Do you have to go, hyung?”
Matthew hesitated to answer.
As a matter of fact, he really did. He had a crew that expected him at a time he chose, a plan to set out for a channel that was finally green-lit. He couldn’t afford to waste anyone’s time, but he didn’t want to waste his either.
If time could stop for just a moment, he probably wouldn’t have picked this moment, but it would’ve been up there. It would’ve been slotted just behind the many more moments the older man has shared with the younger.
The silent stares in the Boys Planet dorm hall, the synced breathing after an intense practice, the first touch of their hands, the first hug, the first kiss. Maybe it would have been that actually, the one where a small argument turned into an impromptu confession on both ends.
Even now, Matthew remembered that faithful day.
…
“Do you always have to be so stubborn? God, I can’t stand your attitude sometimes!”
“How is it my fault that you can’t get the lines right? Aren’t you Korean enough to understand that?”
“I’m trying! Maybe if you didn’t pressure me every second, I would have gotten it by now.”
They were exhausted, frustrated, and tired. The holy trinity of pent up negative emotion just waiting to explode on the closest breathing entity. That happened to be Gunwook, although Matthew still believes he deserved it.
Gunwook was just… too perfect at some points. His gifted physique, his intelligence, his talents, not to mention pairing it with his proud mentality. Gunwook may not be the most humble, but he at least had the decency to see the potential in everyone, and yet Matthew couldn’t handle the pressure.
He couldn’t handle the way Gunwook felt like an unmovable force, like a wall with all of Matthew’s insecurities written on it, a constant reminder that Matthew would never be good enough. Never good enough to get the girl, never good enough to persevere through university, never good enough to be picked first in a sea of aspiring idols. Even then, after debut, Matthew still felt like he wasn’t enough for the expectations the world had placed upon him.
“I… I didn’t mean to pressure you, hyung. I was only trying-“
“Fuck! Can’t you just stop expecting me to be like you?”
Silence enveloped the empty corridor of the WakeOne building, save for the faint buzz of the air-conditioning working in the background.
Gunwook sucked in a sharp breath, his dark brown eyes searching Matthew’s own as if trying to find the meaning behind those words.
Matthew swore he could hear Gunwook’s thoughts in that exact moment. They weren't hurt, or despair, instead they were full of why? Why did Matthew compare himself to the younger one so much?
For every obvious reason, they were already disproven by Matthew himself.
Gunwook made Matthew want to better himself. Matthew worked out and maintained a healthy diet. He continued to study in his free time, wanting to learn new things along the way. He wrote his own lyrics, pouring his ideas one by one into lines of poetry and yearning. Although Matthew wasn’t a proud person, constantly humbled his whole life, he learned to love the person he had become through his own hard work.
It wasn’t the obvious, it was the hidden.
It was the knowledge that Matthew wanted more than a simple hug, or a good luck wish. It was the knowledge that Matthew liked it when Gunwook acted jealous, when others pointed it out. It was the knowledge that Matthew couldn’t help but want to be better, not just for himself anymore, but for Gunwook.
It was the knowledge that no matter what, Gunwook deserved better than what Matthew could provide for him.
“…I’m sorry, you’re not to blame. I’m just- I just need some time.”
Matthew was about to walk away before a hand found his.
Hand found hand, chest found chest, and eyes locked onto another.
“I don’t expect you to be like me. I’d die if you were to change. You’re perfect, just the way you are.”
This time, Matthew looked into Gunwook’s to find the meaning behind those words. The true meaning.
But Gunwook was as open as a book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve. At that moment, Matthew realized that he forgot one of the most important things about Gunwook, that he was emotional.
Gunwook wasn’t as strong as he appeared to be when it came to feelings, nor did he fare well with disappointment. He was a crybaby that hated seeing his friends go, hated feeling like he wasn’t enough, and hated feeling too big to fit into the hearts of others.
Gunwook would sacrifice parts of himself just to appease someone he barely knew, just to see them smile, just to remind them that they were worth it.
Gunwook wanted to remind Matthew to never settle for less because he saw Matthew as more than a coworker or friend, but someone who had something to prove to the world. That Matthew did, in fact, have what it took to be an idol.
“Tell me you want this,
want me,
the way I want you.
Matthew, please…”
Even now, Gunwook gave Matthew every opportunity to push him away, to hate him, to never want to see him again.
Instead, soft lips met even softer lips.
The taste of cherry, reminding Matthew of the cherry blossoms that adorned the side of his ribcage, the closest tattoo to his heart where he accepted Gunwook whole. Hands met his waist, pulling him closer still into Gunwook’s warm body.
The background faded away, wooden floors stripped bare, grey walls broken down, the quiet buzzing finally silenced. In the space they found themselves in, floating among a void created by two, they meddled into one complete being.
As they separated, the hands didn’t magically disappear, neither did the warmth or the intense gaze. Gunwook didn’t disappear. He didn’t disappear.
…
“I’m not going to disappear, Wookie. I’ll be back to you later this evening.”
“That’s too long…”
“You’re such a baby.”
“But I’m yours, aren’t I?”
That earned Gunwook a soft snort into his neck. Matthew vibrated with silent laughter, shaking slightly in Gunwook’s embrace.
“You- You’re so-“ snort “cheesy!”
“But I am yours, hyung,” Gunwook whined, pulling the smaller man away just enough so that he could look into his crescent shaped eyes.
“Hyung, I’m like a slave under your love. I belong to you completely, undoubtedly.”
Matthew calmed down just enough to properly look at Gunwook, smiling at him with such happiness, it could have been used as a power source. He leaned in to kiss Gunwook, savouring the moment.
Although it didn’t taste like cherries, it was Gunwook, and that would always be enough for Matthew.
….
After many pleads and kisses later, Gunwook finally released Matthew from his hold, allowing the other to get up from the soft haven.
Matthew stayed just a little while longer to brush his hand into Gunwook’s hair, coaxing him to the land of dreams once more. And as Gunwook’s breathing slowed, his body stilling ever so slightly, Matthew reluctantly let go. Rising from the bed and towards the door, he looked back one more time to see Gunwook’s sleeping form.
Face pink and slightly bloated, Gunwook slept soundly with Matthew as the last thing he saw before sleep took over again.
Matthew made his way to the front door, collecting his keys and bag, shutting off the lights and double checking all his belongings.
Finally, he exited the apartment with the thought of Gunwook in his head at four in the morning.