Chapter Text
“Scarfs as gloves are quite a sight,” Soonyoung teases as he pushes the gate of their dormitory building open. “Are bold fashion statements a side-effect of your cold, Wonwoo-ssi?”
Wonwoo sniffs, pushing his friend away with his empty hand as he holds onto his scarf with the other. He shivers when he steps out, breathing out mist as he finally sees the first snow of the winter in all its glory.
“I don’t want to attend classes at all. I wish the break was longer or something,” he grumbles. His stomach grumbles, too, and he’s so hungry. Fuck him and his now-gone fever that made him sleep through three of his alarms.
“I told you to eat the sandwich— aye, careful, my guy!” Soonyoung pulls him up when he nearly slips on the wet, snow-covered steps leading down from the gate. “Breaking your bones is not a good enough way to skip classes!”
“Fuck off.” Wonwoo balances himself and takes a big step to the ground once and for all. He sighs tiredly, and the day hasn’t even started. “I’m going to grab breakfast,” he says, looking down at his watch that his jacket nearly covers. He still has a little time before classes start. “Meet you for lunch?”
“Sure!” Soonyoung says, reaching out to help him adjust the scarf around his neck when a breeze swifts past them. “Take care. Don’t get more sick, yeah?” He grins.
Wonwoo rolls his eyes but nods amusedly. Soonyoung sends a short salute in his direction, and Wonwoo waves back with a little smile before taking the other turn.
He shivers when another breeze rushes against him. It feels as though his insides are eating themselves up from how hungry he is, so he decidedly steps off-track and walks through the snow-covered ground instead. Which, he realises soon enough, is a huge mistake, and how does it snow so much within a night? But he finds no answer and instead begrudgingly stumbles through the thick snow that magically makes his black boots disappear into whiteness.
A few students are playing in the snow, while some are rushing through it to reach their classes quickly and avoid cranky professors. Wonwoo has almost crossed the park when his body seizes in a sneeze, and his shoulder hits something — a lamp post, he guesses — until that something moves.
And lamp posts don’t move.
His eyes shoot up, widening when he sees a guy. Maybe it’s the snow; maybe the guy is just taller, but Wonwoo has to tilt his head up to see the panic-stricken man. He is about to apologise when the man beats him to it.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you.” And then he’s fixing Wonwoo’s scarf that had somehow reached the snow and gotten wet. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t see where I was going,” he babbles and steps back, almost falling again.
Wonwoo smiles stupidly instead of responding, which would look mocking in a situation like his, but he’s just happy he’s not the only one struggling in the snow through which other students are walking with no issue. He sees the man’s eyes travelling to his mouth briefly, but he ignores it.
“It’s f—”
“You have a really pretty smile,” the man blurts.
“Oh,” Wonwoo breathes out, taken aback. He opens his mouth to just say something to make this less awkward but presses his lips promptly when no reply comes to his mind, blissfully blanking out at the sudden comment. He merely pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, blinking dumbly as his brain tries to conjure a coherent thought. The man looks equally taken aback as he slaps his hand onto his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I just— I’m sorry for colliding with you.”
Wonwoo blinks and straightens up, throwing the hanging end of his scarf past his shoulder again, half of his face drowning under the cloth. “It’s fine. I’m sorry, too… uh, for not seeing where I was going.”
He gives a tight-lipped smile — one that ends up hiding underneath his scarf — and bows his head politely, stepping onto the platform again, his go-to cafe already in sight. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t think about how weird the encounter was, and simply pushes it into the back of his brain, hoping he will forget it in a few hours.
Once the third class of Wonwoo’s day ends, he catches himself smiling at the mirror contemplatively.
Ugly, the voice in his head yells. His reflection blinks back at him, the smile faltering. Stupid stupid stupid. A man’s voice rings in his head, the same voice that used to make him smile, now a mere haunting memory. Undeserving, it says. You don’t even deserve it, you don’t deserve—
The bathroom’s heavy door opens, and his eyes move away from his reflection in the mirror to the door, widening in recognition when he sees the same man he had walked into in the morning, the same man who has him making faces in the mirror to see from what angle his smile ends up pretty.
The man has his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, holding his bag in one hand and opening the zipper with the other. His lips form a pout, and when he looks at Wonwoo, he mirrors the recognition with a part of his lips.
“Mingyu, you don’t get it! You can’t just lose it like that!” The voice yells from the phone, and the man’s focus returns to his bag as he shuffles through it.
“Mom,” he whines, “I’m sorry. I’ll find the ring, I promise. And you know I never break promises, don’t you? I swear I will return it to you when I’m back.”
Wonwoo tries to act like he’s not paying attention to the loud man’s voice bouncing off the stalls, quickly washes his hands— shoots a smile at him again, and promptly gets out of the bathroom without drying his hands.
Mingyu — whoever he is — might as well think Wonwoo is running away from him. So much to avoid the fresh embarrassment of the morning.
He shakes his head and flicks his wrists twice to get the drops off his hands. His fingers start to freeze, so he quickly unlocks his phone and puts one of his gloves on. Plugging his headphones, he plays a random playlist on shuffle, grimacing upon successfully getting his screen wet. He sniffles from the cold and puts his other glove on. This time, he takes the longer route, reaching the road leading to his dormitory within a few minutes.
Wonwoo sees Junhui and Jihoon on the other side of the road, walking in his direction, probably to eat lunch, too. He takes off his headphones, waiting for the two to catch up, motioning for them to hurry over when they finally catch sight of Wonwoo.
They’re talking about some random student pulling some weird stunt in their music theory class, and Wonwoo joins conversationally, slightly amused. Most of his classes are filled with tryhard nerds just like him, so it isn’t often when the professor actually gives a damn about what stupidity a student is pulling off, something which rarely happens anyway.
They walk up the stairs to their dorm in a row, and Wonwoo nearly misses his stepping as he thinks back to the guy again. Soonyoung, yet again, is the one catching him, looking at him with a scandalised look.
“Are you okay?”
“I— yeah.” Wonwoo nods, motioning for his friends to open the door to their dorm instead of looking at him with raised eyebrows.
He almost asks them if they know about some Mingyu, but he immediately shakes his head again, deciding against the thought. He really needs to get the stranger out of his head.
Wonwoo probably won’t even see him again.
Wonwoo realises soon enough that he is very wrong. When do things go the way he wants anyway?
He almost walks out the same door he entered when he spots Mingyu sitting in the far right corner of the lecture hall.
Once Wonwoo deems himself stupid enough to care about a stranger who probably doesn’t even remember him anymore, he walks to the nearest empty seat and plops down. How has he never seen Mingyu in the class before?
tgt 4ever 🍀
me
hi.
does any of you know who
mingyu is because why do i keep
seeing him everywhere i go?
jun 🌼
no clue
soonyoung 🙄
no but should we be concerned
wdym you’ve got a stalker again??????????
me
he doesn’t even know my name soonyoung.
soonyoung 🙄
are you sure that's enough criteria
me
i do think so.
our meetings have only been accidental thus far
but then he's suddenly in my cantonese class?
soonyoung 🙄
why are you so bothered abt him??
i dropped the smirk emojis at the last moment
btw. they almost made it in that sentence 😣
me
don’t u dare.
but i’m not bothered i just
haven’t seen his face ever before
and suddenly he’s EVERYWHERE
i have seen him more than i’ve seen you today.
soonyoung 🙄
ouch that hurts :(
well it’s not like you ever get your ass off your books
either so even if he had been wherever you are
all along you might’ve never noticed
do you even know a single student's name in your class rn?
me
I DO???
jihoon 🫡
why are you both texting in the middle of your lectures
soonyoung 🙄
🙄🙄
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, too, partially out of amusement. He puts his phone on the table.
Well, maybe Soonyoung is right. His eyes move around the room subtly, briefly scanning everyone in the Cantonese class he has been in since the start of his first semester. How many faces can he actually recognise? None. It’s like he has never seen a single one of them before, all of them foreign to his memory.
The professor comes as soon as Wonwoo switches his laptop on and opens his notebook. He somehow focuses on his lecture without letting his mind wander again, trying to busy himself by noting down whatever feels useful.
Once the lecture ends, he slips his laptop and notebooks into his bag and gets up, stretching his neck a few times to release the continuous onslaught of strain it bore for an hour.
The pen on the table decides to slide to the other side, and before he can catch it, it falls to the ground with a little clatter. He’s afraid somebody would walk on his favourite pen and break it, or worse, break their own bones by slipping on it, so he quickly moves to pick it up.
Before he can reach out, somebody already has it in their hands, and when Wonwoo looks up, he’s met with the same fucking face he’s been trying to get out of his mind. It takes a moment for him to take his pen back from him, and when he does, he takes a step back, the back of his thighs hitting the table painfully.
“Why are you everywhere?” Wonwoo asks, and he’s sure he sounds plain rude. It must be contrasting from what Mingyu must’ve witnessed in the morning.
You have a pretty smile.
Mingyu blinks a couple of times before his lips stretch into what — Wonwoo weakly manages to realise — is a way prettier smile than his. Perhaps it’s the prettiest smile he has ever seen.
Wonwoo feels like the situation from the morning is back to greet him, for Mingyu doesn’t reply either and merely smiles at him dumbly and a bit mockingly, too. He starts feeling flustered and a bit awkward, so he tilts his head in an attempt to get an answer to his stupid question.
“Why?” Mingyu finally responds, albeit with a question. “Is my gorgeous face that bothersome?”
Oh, Wonwoo hates Mingyu.
“Absolutely not,” he mutters, frowning.
“So you agree my face is gorgeous?” Mingyu asks.
"Condescending,” Wonwoo states simply, knowing Mingyu is joking, but he doesn’t have the heart to deny it either. He doesn’t think it’s possible to deny it, anyway. Mingyu laughs softly, and oh. Wonwoo suddenly doesn’t know what to do. The table is still digging into his thighs, and the two are the only people standing in the empty lecture hall.
There is something different about Mingyu, and maybe Soonyoung is right; Wonwoo really needs to interact more with people so he doesn’t end up horribly surprised every time someone makes him not feel like running away as soon as he meets eyes with them. But there must be something truly different about anybody to make him feel so comfortable immediately.
“Do you have classes?” Wonwoo questions, and he's slightly mortified by the stupid and random things he's been asking. He really needs to stop acting weird in front of horrifyingly gorgeous men.
Mingyu half gives a ‘What happened to “Hi, what's your name, my name is this and this, and it's nice to meet you”?’ look, and before Wonwoo can colour in embarrassment, Mingyu shakes his head. “What about you?” he asks, and Wonwoo briefly questions why Mingyu is still standing before him when he could simply run away like all the times Wonwoo has yet.
“I do, in fact,” Wonwoo replies. He almost mentions that it's in an hour. But he holds himself back, already feeling guilty for forcing Mingyu into such a painfully monotonous conversation. Maybe Mingyu already regrets picking up his pen.
“Oh,” Mingyu says.
Wonwoo puts his bag on his shoulder, tightening the scarf around his neck for the fifth time today. He's not ready to face the cold again.
They walk out the door, and it's not awkward like Wonwoo had feared. The walk extends out of the building, and then he realises they have to part ways as he steps out the gate right after Mingyu, seeing him turn in the opposite direction.
“See you again?” Mingyu says, and it sounds more like a question than a thing said out of formality, but before Wonwoo can reply with something stupid again, a harsh cold wind shakes his body, and he steps back and sneezes.
He grimaces, only to sneeze again.
And again.
And again. He finds himself on the snow-clad ground, his limbs trembling weakly. A part of him wishes the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Whatever hell awaits in the ground’s depths has to be better than whatever this is.
Wonwoo blearily feels his weight shifting to his feet again as a strong arm pulls him up gently.
“Your cold will worsen,” Mingyu scolds.
Wonwoo blinks up at him blankly. How pathetic does he have to be to get looked after by a stranger who isn't obliged to stay with him, who owes him absolutely nothing and doesn't even know his name?
Instead of fixing his scarf this time, Mingyu pushes a beanie onto Wonwoo’s head. He pulls back, zipping his backpack shut.
Wonwoo doesn't even realise what just happened.
“Don't worry; it's washed,” Mingyu informs, probably realising Wonwoo zoned out.
Before Wonwoo can open his mouth, Mingyu’s phone buzzes, and he looks pained as he stares at the caller ID.
“Take care, mhm? My friend is calling,” he says quickly.
Wonwoo weakly returns a “you, too” as he sees Mingyu shoot him one last smile before turning around and accepting the call.
“No, god. Take the cheaper ones. And tell Myungho to fuck off.”
Mingyu’s voice drowns into silence, and Wonwoo stands amid the blankets of snow until he sees the different shades of red of the sidewalk’s colour underneath blending into it. If he sees hard enough, he can see his heart under all the layers, wanting to be heard, too.
╰⊱❆⊱╮
Wonwoo doesn’t see Mingyu again.
And he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed. Relieved because he wouldn’t be reminded of his embarrassing little situations or disappointed because he genuinely wanted to… befriend the man or something like that. But he doesn’t think about it more than twice (he does) and gets on with his end-of-semester exams, constantly busy with not a moment to spare in his life.
He walks up the stairs of his dormitory after his last exam, half fried and dead with exhaustion. He can’t wait to curl up in his bed and sleep, even if he knows he will struggle to get his eyes to close without a million thoughts running behind them at record speed.
He pushes the door to his dorm open, Soonyoung following behind him as he tells more tales of his home and how excited he is for the winter break since he’s going on a vacation with his family.
Wonwoo could only wish for such things. In another life, he tells himself.
Unknown voices boom in the dorm, and he’s sure Junhui is not back from his second last exam just yet. And Jihoon— well, he never brings people home. He looks back at Soonyoung, but the other doesn’t return the clueless look and smiles cheekily instead.
“Is it—” an all too familiar voice starts. Wonwoo gasps, his eyes widening.
“Seulgi?”
“Well, hello!” The woman peeks from behind the entryway’s wall, smiling.
“You— why am I seeing you after two months?”
“I’m sorry,” Seulgi says with an apologetic jut of her lips, raising her hands in surrender. “Med school is keeping me on my toes. But— but, but.” She stops rather dramatically. “Why am I seeing you after two months?”
“Med school is keeping me on my toes—”
“You have no med school, dumbass!”
“But exam season, you know.” Wonwoo grins a pained grin. He realises the older is holding a whisk, and it is then he realises that she dons an apron on top of her hoodie.
“What are you doing in the kitchen?”
Seulgi motions for him to follow him back to the kitchen, grinning mischievously. Even though he’s seeing her for the first time in two months, it’s like they still meet every day, just like they did when they were children — until she moved to her hometown.
Even though she lives just a drive away now, they don’t meet up very often. Their schedules barely ever align. He couldn’t even help her move into her new flat this year; the universe loves to keep him away from the people he loves the most.
Anyway. He is glad she is here now, even if for a few hours.
“Jihoon and I are in the cake-baking class, and we partnered up for… you know, baking cakes because… Christmas!” Seulgi responds cheerfully, flailing her hands in the air.
“Uhm. Christmas is — a week away.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow.
“And?” Seulgi rolls her eyes, pulling him into the kitchen. Wonwoo hears a melodious laugh ring around the area, and it does not belong to Jihoon. “Do you remember the guy I told you about? Who cooked super well and helped me move in? This is—”
“Mingyu?” Wonwoo questions incredulously, and Mingyu stops laughing abruptly, turning around with eyes wide. His cheeks are flushed, probably from all the laughing, and he has fondant on his face.
“Oh— hi,” Mingyu greets.
Seulgi moves her gaze between them, baffled. “You know each other?” she asks, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“Uhm… not really,” Wonwoo answers awkwardly.
Seulgi’s eyebrows lift, looking more confused. Even Jihoon looks back, and oh, fuck. Wonwoo knows what follows, what disaster awaits—
“Wait, this is the Mingyu you were asking about?”
Wonwoo purses his lips, trying not to let the embarrassment show, biting down on his lip as the skin under his collar heats up.
“Wait, what? Wait, then, you’re— Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, looking at Seulgi, and then back at him.
“Yeah…?”
Mingyu opens his mouth, only to close it again. “Oh.”
Seulgi must’ve told him, the voice in his head supplies. He simply nods, fiddling with the band around his left wrist. Wonwoo says a small, “I’m going to freshen up,” and escapes the awkwardness in the kitchen.
He hears a brief ‘you better come here once you’re done!’ yelled by Seulgi, and he yells back an ‘okay!’ before he goes and changes his clothes. He drinks some water and lies on the bed. Barely two minutes pass before he’s skipping out of his room restlessly.
Thankfully, it’s only Seulgi outside, and he hears some loud sounds from Jihoon’s room which must mean the other two are probably playing games or something.
Seulgi puts her phone down on the counter, her legs swinging. The kitchen looks a little empty like that, a little empty without all the other… loud noises and laughter.
The moment doesn't last long as he ushers Seulgi into his room, busying her with questions about her life. The Legend of Korra plays on his laptop, but neither is focused on the screen. Wonwoo’s just glad the room doesn’t feel as empty as it usually does.
At some point, they shut up and focus on what's playing, but his mind sways with thoughts.
“Mom was admitted to the hospital, so I had to stay back for a while. Mingyu helped Myungho and Seokmin move in first — they’re the other guys I told you about — and then I moved in after two days.”
“Oh. What about the other girls?”
“Well, we all helped each other move in, obviously. None of us are in the same year, though. Like, one of them is in post-med, and the other, who’s the same age as me, is a senior. The other is as old as you, also a sophomore.”
“Ooh. And the guys?”
“All freshmen.”
Wonwoo remembers the conversation from when they met for the first time in years after Seulgi moved in. Myungho. How did he not realise when he overheard Mingyu's conversation on his phone the last time they saw each other?
“It’s just— I didn’t expect Mingyu to be one of the guys you talked about.”
“The world is small,” Seulgi says, earning a roll of Wonwoo’s eyes in response.
“No, I mean that he doesn’t suit the description you had given.”
“He would once you get to know him,” Seulgi counters.
Yeah… about that. Wonwoo’s not sure if that’s ever going to happen.
They focus back on his screen, seeing Asami pulling her goggles up. In his periphery, he sees Seulgi bite at her knuckles.
“I don’t care what anybody says about her, but she’s so hot. I remember when you had the biggest crush on her.”
“Shut up.” Wonwoo tries to push her away. “She was your literal gay awakening.”
Seulgi snickers. “As if Zuko wasn’t yours?”
“Whatever.”
And they focus back on the screen. A part of him wanted to watch Avatar the Last Airbender instead, but Seulgi complained about how they’ve rewatched it way too many times, even through video calls.
Halfway through the second episode, a loud knock on his door interrupts them. Wonwoo flinches in surprise.
“Noona! Your mom is calling!” Mingyu yells.
Seulgi looks at him, her eyes narrowing. Wonwoo huffs out and quickly pushes the blanket off, stumbles through the mess of clothes on his floor to open the door, and quickly takes Mingyu’s phone. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Mingyu once he realises it’s an invitation for a video call.
Seulgi whisper-yells, “Take the call!”
Wonwoo is stumbling back to bed when he accepts the call.
“Oh my god, my sweet Son!”
Wonwoo pushes through his exhaustion to smile as wide as possible. “Misses Kang! You look as beautiful as ever.”
Wonwoo can practically hear Seulgi roll her eyes. He flinches again when the door shuts. In the back of his mind, he hopes Mingyu didn’t see the messy state of his room; he can’t bear feeling more embarrassed.
“Oh, what a flatterer. I’m a withered flower, Wonwoo.”
“That’s not true at all,” Wonwoo says, a polite smile on his face.
“I miss you so much, my son. I miss your mother so much. How is she doing? I hope we can all meet soon.”
Wonwoo really can’t stop his smile from falling. The screen doesn’t catch it, though, as Seulgi takes the phone to hold it for him.
“She’s— she’s great. And I hope so, too. I miss you and uncle a lot,” Wonwoo says, forcing the stability back into his voice.
“How have you been doing, Mom?” Seulgi asks.
“Recovering, as I told you I would! What about you, my daughter?”
As she starts asking Seulgi about her well-being, Wonwoo’s brain drones the conversation out. His head conjures up images of all their parents meeting again, and he starts feeling a bit sick at the mere idea of it.
“I’m going to drink some water; just a minute,” he whispers to Seulgi before escaping his room. He shuts the door behind him and walks to the kitchen, not wanting to hear the conversation any further, pouring some water into the kettle to cut the sounds off even more. His fingers tremble, and he bites down on his bottom lip as he tries to control the shaking.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Wonwoo doesn’t realise he’s leaning on the slab in hopes of controlling his erratic breathing until somebody switches the already whistling kettle off.
“Are you alright?” the said somebody asks, and Wonwoo turns to see Mingyu right behind him. He jumps back, almost knocking the kettle off its plate.
“I— Water,” he croaks, turning around to pour the water from the kettle into a glass. When he hurriedly puts the glass against his lips and tips it up, he almost drops it. His tongue burns. “Fuck.”
Mingyu pulls the glass out of his hands, and Wonwoo’s sight is blurry from the lack of glasses — he doesn't even know when he took them off — but he sees Mingyu adding water from the jug. He pushes the glass into Wonwoo’s hands carefully, his eyes not moving away from his face.
Wonwoo can’t seem to care about the weight of his gaze, downing the comfortably warm water in one go.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks again. Wonwoo focuses on his breathing, trying to get his thoughts to shut down. He picks up his glasses from the counter and puts them on, fixing them when they end up sitting crookedly on his nose due to his trembling fingers. The exhaustion from days of endless exams mixes up with the fear the imagery of having to return to his house if his friends’ mothers make a plan and rope their children in brings because they are distant cousins after all—
“I’m— yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “It’s nothing.”
Mingyu doesn’t seem convinced at all but doesn't probe for more either.
“Do you want to play some games? Jihoon hyung kept losing, so he stopped playing.”
Wonwoo visibly perks up at that. Mingyu must catch onto it because he grins at him before his fingers wrap around his wrist to bring him to Jihoon’s room— as if Wonwoo doesn’t know which of the four rooms belonged to Jihoon. Wonwoo’s wrist tingles at the touch, but the feeling is not unwelcome. It’s nice. Grounding, even.
Wonwoo’s eyes widen in realisation. “Wait, Seulgi will kill me!”
Despite chattering with his friend and catching up with each other’s lives for the past hour, he thinks it’ll be rude for him to disappear midway. But he’s exhausted from the days of examinations back to back, and his brain is in dire need of a buffer.
Mingyu stops in front of Jihoon’s room, turning to look at Wonwoo. “Uhm… I won’t let her; don’t worry.”
With that, he’s gently pulled across the room to where Jihoon’s PC resides and makes Wonwoo sit on the extra chair. Jihoon is on the bed, his headphones blasting so loudly that even Wonwoo hears the songs.
“You need to beware, though. Nobody has ever won against me,” Wonwoo warns jokingly, forcing his mood to lighten.
Mingyu simply raises his eyebrows. “Well, let me change that.”
Mingyu sits beside Wonwoo, facing the opposite wall.
He’s sulking, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do.
“Do you want me to apologise for winning, Mingyu?” he asks a little helplessly, trying to move the guy’s shoulder to see his face. Mingyu doesn’t reply, and instead of finding it annoying like Wonwoo would if it was someone else, he finds it rather cute. “Okay, let’s play again. You can win this time.”
Mingyu finally looks back, upset. “That’s just you pitying me now.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” Wonwoo sits back again.
“I don’t know; lose your skills or something?”
Wonwoo laughs. Mingyu’s gaze moves to his lips again before returning to his eyes. It is quick and subtle, and Wonwoo almost doesn’t catch it. When Mingyu smiles in return — all wide and pearly — Wonwoo loses his thought process. Mingyu’s canines are so sharp, peeking out distinctively. They look pretty. Is it even possible for teeth to be pretty? But Wonwoo concludes that Mingyu’s teeth definitely are.
He pulls his gaze away, realising he has been staring like a fool.
“Um…” he trails off, looking back at Mingyu again when he realises the boy is still looking at him with a tilt of his head, as though he’s studying him. “Do you want to play more?”
“I need to get going,” Mingyu says remorsefully, turning around to see the clock. “I have to work out and prepare for dinner.”
“Oh,” Wonwoo replies dumbly. No wonder Mingyu has the build of a Greek god. Wonwoo, though, doesn't have an ounce of motivation to work out, especially after a tiring day of classes back to back.
“Are you going to the gym?” Jihoon asks. Wonwoo nearly jumps, realising that Jihoon is still in the room. Well, yeah, this is his room.
“Yep," Mingyu answers.
“I’ll come, too,” Jihoon says, and then he’s off to change his clothes.
“Will Seulgi go with you?” Wonwoo asks. Mingyu nods, and Wonwoo gets up begrudgingly. He doesn’t want to return to his lonely room.
The change is almost funny, he realises, because moments ago, he wanted nothing but to be out of Mingyu’s sight and hide in his room. Despite the urge to get away from the situation that would land him in the lonely walls all over again, he walks to his room and opens his door, seeing Seulgi passed out on his bed. It’s a little more than an hour since Wonwoo escaped his room, and he feels a little guilty for having left the girl. At least, she got the nap she deserved.
Oh, well.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he calls out as he pads to the bed. “Wake up.”
Seulgi stirs when Wonwoo shakes her shoulders. She has always been a heavy sleeper, but with the insomnia that comes along with selling your soul to science, she wakes up relatively quickly.
“Wait,” she whispers groggily. “I fell asleep?”
“Mhm. Mingyu is going now,” he answers. “I’m sorry for disappearing suddenly.”
“It’s fine, of course. Let’s meet soon, yeah?” Seulgi says.
Wownoo nods as they walk out of his room. “Just tell me whenever you’re free.”
“Of course.”
The other two are already waiting at the door, and he waits for the girl to step out of the dorm before waving goodbye.
“I’ll see you soon!” Seulgi says, still looking half-asleep.
Mingyu turns around one last time to flash a bright smile, and Wonwoo responds with one of his own, one that is brighter than his usual one.
And Jihoon— well, he merely zips his jacket all the way up, saying, “Wake Soonyoung up or else he’s gonna annoy me all night.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he replies.
He shuts the door and barges into Soonyoung’s room. He doesn’t have the energy to wake him up, so he lets himself fall onto the other’s body, Soonyoung groaning in response.
“Let me sleep, you insomniac demon.”
“No.”
“Fuck off, please,” Soonyoung whines.
Wonwoo rolls around the small bed, crushing Soonyoung’s body further. “I’ll tickle you,” Wonwoo warns.
Soonyoung lifts his head from under the covers, the biggest pout pulling his lips down.
“Jihoon’s orders. Don’t hate me,” Wonwoo says.
“Jihoon’s orders,” Soonyoung mocks.
“I don’t want him talking my ear off about your annoying ass, thank you very much.”
“I don’t care.” But Soonyoung pushes his blankets away anyway. “I hate the winters. Why does my bed have to be so cosy?”
Wonwoo can sympathise. He’s no better, either.
“We need to make—”
“Junnie said he’ll be bringing Chinese food. No cooking today.” Soonyoung stretches his arms above his head happily. Wonwoo yawns and leans back on the curtained window, feeling the cold glass through the thick fabric. He loves the winterfall but can’t bear how cold the world becomes.
“I’ll go finish my work, then. Don’t fall asleep again.”
╰⊱❆⊱╮
Somehow, Jihoon’s cake-baking class ends up with the intermingling of more than just two friend groups.
“A bit higher!” Seokmin yells, and Jisoo follows, holding the shiny decoration higher.
“Um,” Wonwoo hums stupidly, motioning for the tape in his hand. “Should I?”
“Your side is a bit too high, Seokmin,” Minghao comments from behind, and Wonwoo looks back at him helplessly. “You—” Minghao finally spares him a glance, “Yeah, paste it.”
Once the tape sticks properly on the wall, Wonwoo jumps off the table, ankles aching from the force. He sighs out and sits down, his head spinning from standing for so long. When his body doesn’t feel relaxed enough, he lies down on the cold carpeted ground, the corner of a lonesome Christmas tree decoration digging into his neck.
“Snacks for y’all!” Mingyu yells, the sound of plates being kept on a table clearly audible. Despite the loud grumbling of his stomach, Wonwoo makes no move to get to the table. Instead, he keeps lying on the ground with his eyes on the roof, his body exhausted and energyless.
“Hi,” comes a cute voice beside him, and his eyes move to the side, widening upon catching sight of Mingyu. He looks fluffy, a fuzzy baby blue sweater covering his large frame, brown trouser-clad legs folded on the carpet just beside where he lies.
“Here?” Mingyu asks with a tilt of his head, offering a small fried snack, holding it out above his mouth. Wonwoo parts his lips, and the snack drops into his mouth. He pushes himself up slightly, perching on his elbow as he chews, not wanting to choke. The taste of cheese fills his mouth, the crunch of the crust heavenly.
“God. Who made this?” Wonwoo asks with wide eyes as he sits up, letting Mingyu feed him another piece from his plate.
“Me,” Mingyu responds, his eyes twinkling sweetly as he eats a piece himself.
“It’s really good,” he says, munching on the snack.
“I’m glad,” Mingyu says, a light flush painting his cheeks. Wonwoo’s lips twitch up automatically, and he steals another one of the delicious snacks from Mingyu’s plate.
“Your roommates must be lucky,” he comments mindlessly, surprised at his body for accepting food so heartily. It isn’t often that he eats something without his throat closing up, a choked feeling rendering him hungerless. But none of it comes as Mingyu keeps offering him all the contents of his plate, smiling oh so gently, like a soft breeze on a sunny day.
“I guess.” Mingyu shrugs modestly.
Wonwoo sits dumbly as Mingyu brings them another plate when it gets emptied— and instead of getting separate plates, they share the one Mingyu holds, letting chaos unfold around them. Their friends dance and sing and fight and eat, preparing for tonight’s Christmas celebration. It’s already going on, one would argue, with happiness bouncing off the walls of Jisoo’s dorm. (But the cake is baking, so their celebrations are yet to officially start.)
There are only a few of them; Jisoo’s dormmates — Jeonghan and Seungcheol — are gone on vacation, Soonyoung is in Vietnam, and Junhui is with his parents in China. Seulgi, despite the original plan being to stay until Christmas and celebrate together, has already returned to Ansan.
The rest of them are staying for the next two months, and Wonwoo is quite excited to do nothing. Exams are always a torturous thing for him, perhaps more than the usual amount, and he genuinely needs to simply relax.
“What are you doing in the break?”
Wonwoo gets pulled out of his thoughts as Mingyu keeps their plate to the side, leaning behind to rest his back on the back of the couch. “Um. Nothing really. Probably just rest.”
“Ah. Same.” Mingyu chuckles.
“Anything specific you’re thinking of doing?” Someone like Mingyu doesn’t seem to be the type to spend two whole months doing absolutely nothing like him; he looks the sort that would go hike—
“I want to go hiking. Um, and I want to try out all the new restaurants nearby. I have a lot of hobbies, so… I’ll just let it all happen. I want to relax, though. Uni is no joke,” Mingyu says with a downward tilt of his lip, shoulders raising in a subtle shrug. “I was insanely excited for uni all my life. I mean, it is fun, but when it’s not, it’s really not.”
Wonwoo laughs lightly. “Yeah, I was the same. But it’s still better than high school, I’d say. I feel the same about living in the city.”
“Oh.” Mingyu looks up at him, eyebrows raised as he catches onto the implication. “Where are you from?”
“Changwon.”
“Changwon? That’s pretty far away,” Mingyu says, plump lips forming a cute little ‘o’.
“Mhm. I really wanted to come to the city all my life. I used to live in the countryside.”
“Do you like it here, then?”
Wonwoo nods, a smile flickering on his lips. “It’s really different from how it was there; nobody knows you, nobody cares, but I find it better this way. Nobody is nosy in the city. No curiosity to know unless they want to get into your pants, which is a pretty scary experience as well. Although, I felt pretty alienated when I first arrived here.”
“Ah, that’s understandable. And it is scary. I mean, I’m from Anyang, and I’ve lived in the city my whole life. I felt alienated all the time, so I can’t imagine the whiplash of coming from the countryside to the central city. But if you find the right people, it gets a better experience. ”
Wonwoo nods. “Yeah.”
Right people. He can count the right people in his life on one hand. It’s only been two years, and he’s had more horrible experiences than the good ones when it comes to people. But in the countryside, people whom he used to call family were no better, either. Maybe, there are no right people at all.
“Mingyu!” Jihoon’s voice comes from the kitchen, and Mingyu perks up at his name, something so obviously usual yet very awfully endearing that it leaves Wonwoo confused.
“The cake must be ready!” Mingyu exclaims cheerfully before getting up to his feet and rushing to the kitchen. Wonwoo gets up as well, sitting down on the sofa beside Jisoo and Seokmin as they scroll through movies on the TV.
“What are we watching?” he asks.
“We’re yet to decide,” Jisoo responds.
“Oh. Where’s Myungho?”
“He’s helping with dinner,” Seokmin says, looking back to the kitchen. Wonwoo thinks that perhaps he should help, but he knows he’s going to be useless when it comes to cooking and would end up just sitting on the counter for moral support that they probably do not need right now. The three of them end up focusing on the TV again, and in his periphery, he sees Seokmin leaning onto Jisoo’s shoulder, his eyes fixed on the screen.
They just met for the first time a few hours ago, rings in Wonwoo’s head like a surprised alarm, and he wishes he had half the balls to be like that with a friend.
Footsteps pad over to their couch, and he looks behind in alert, gasping when he sees what rests in Mingyu’s hand.
“Woah,” Seokmin whistles. “Your class totally paid off!”
Mingyu giggles, keeping the cake on the centre table in front of them. Wonwoo leans in, lips parting as he takes in all the little details of the fondant on the cake. He wants to compliment, too, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Hey,” Mingyu whispers. Wonwoo jumps in surprise when a warm touch envelopes his wrist. “Come with me.”
In his periphery, he sees Minghao pulling at Seokmin, too, and he realises that they probably need help carrying the dinner. There are hints of sweat at the sides of Mingyu’s face, little drops across the edge of tan skin disappearing into overgrown hair.
Jisoo follows, helping them take out cutlery. Wonwoo stacks the bowls, carrying them back to the table, nudging Jihoon to get his knee off the edge of the table. He returns to the kitchen, nearly colliding with Mingyu, who is carrying jeyuk in a large pot.
“Yo, careful!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo rushes. “More help needed?”
“Take this, actually,” Mingyu motions for the pot. “I’ll bring more!” A bright grin stretches across Mingyu’s face, and it shouldn't be so cute.
“Sure.” Wonwoo takes the pot, gripping the handles on either side. Mingyu’s fingers snake away, leaving a trail of warmth on his skin in their wake.
“Thank you! We’ll bring the stuff that’s left.” Mingyu smiles and turns on his heels, disappearing into the kitchen.
Wonwoo blinks, looking at the ground once, and walks to the table again, placing the pot down before sitting beside Minghao, who is already beside Jihoon.
Although Wonwoo instinctively moves to the side to make space for Mingyu when he returns, he finds him sitting on the carpet near his feet instead, and he moves his legs to the side to make space for him. Seokmin and Jisoo follow, sitting on the ground.
“Should we cut the cake first?” Mingyu asks.
Jihoon hums confusedly. “Let’s eat it after dinner. As dessert?”
“Sounds good,” Minghao comments, leaning back as he presses the play button of the remote.
Unable to catch the sight on the screen, he looks at Minghao helplessly. “What are we watching?”
“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
“Shouldn’t we watch it before Christmas, then—”
Mingyu’s chuckle cuts his joke, the younger angling his head up to see him. He passes a plate full of side dishes, stir-fried snacks and main dishes to him, and Wonwoo accepts it with a confused but grateful tilt of his head. He has been waiting for his turn to take his own serving, but it seems like he won’t need to do that now. “Take more when you want,” Mingyu says, shifting to the side as Minghao leans down to take his own food.
Wonwoo looks down at his plate, a bit taken aback by how prettily and perfectly the food is splayed on the plate. The snacks form a little smile at the side of his plate, and he forces his focus back onto the screen, unable to contain the small smile from pulling his lip up. He eats the food, which is a bit sad since he doesn’t want to ruin the artistic display of dishes on his plate.
Halfway through the movie, most of them are done with the dinner, the stack of plates getting bigger at the corner of the table. Wonwoo’s plate ends up at the top of it, and he leans back on the couch with the heaviest sigh, stomach full and happy.
“Good?” Mingyu whispers, now sitting beside him, having taken Minghao’s place. Minghao is on the ground, Seokmin’s head on his shoulder.
“Very,” Wonwoo says, his eyes moving away from the screen to the boy. “Really, really good.”
“I’m glad,” Mingyu smiles softly, double-lidded eyes crinkling pretilly.
A click catches his attention, and he looks away to see Jisoo snapping a photo of the cake. Wonwoo realises he hasn’t clicked pictures of the cake either, and the butter knife at the side of the cake means they’re probably going to cut it now.
He takes his phone out, leaning forward to click a few photos. Half of his focus is still on the movie, not wanting to miss out on what was happening. It’s funny, how he hasn’t been this hooked to a kid’s movie in ages, let alone watching one at all.
As Jihoon cuts the cake and Mingyu helps him put the nearly equal pieces on small plates, Wonwoo sits back beside Jisoo. “So, we can stay until your birthday, right?” he asks.
“Hey, what? Absolute not!” Jisoo shakes his head, scandalized.
Wonwoo grins evilly before looking at his only dormmate present in the room.
“We can sleep over here tonight, at least?” Jihoon asks jokingly, easily getting the hint.
“Yeah, that is acceptable.”
“Wait, really?” Jihoon asks again, his eyes wide.
“Sure. I mean, there are three rooms, so we can split into groups of two and have one room each?”
“Okay—”
“Oh, my god. Look at that,” Minghao’s voice cuts in, a grimace painting his features. Horrified screams come from the speakers, the animated kids on the screen yelling and crying.
“Well, shit,” Wonwoo says, and a few snorts and chuckles pass about the room. He brings the plate of cake to his lap, digging his spoon into the dessert before bringing it to his lips. A perfect blend of sweetness and softness blooms on his tongue, and he leans back onto the couch in genuine amazement.
“Woah. This is so, so good,” Seokmin says.
Wonwoo hums in agreement, nodding. “Y’all should open a bakery or something,” he says, pointing to Mingyu with his spoon before moving it to point to Jihoon.
“It was all Mingyu’s hard work.” Jihoon shrugs.
“Hey, that’s not true at all!” Mingyu cuts in, eyebrows furrowed as if someone had said something offensive about him. “You are the one who—”
“Guys, shut up and watch!” Seokmin interrupts them, playfully glaring at Mingyu. Mingyu curls into himself like a child who has been scolded, pouting petulantly. Before Wonwoo appears to be creepy, staring at Mingyu yet again, he moves his eyes away, focussing back on the screen while eating the cake.
At some point, he feels his dry eyes droop, and he doesn't realise when he keeps his plate to the side, letting his eyes shut as he leans to the side and falls asleep.
“Hey,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes. “What happened next? Did he deliver the right gifts?”
A sleepy rumble comes from Mingyu, and Wonwoo’s lips jut out. Why did he have to miss out on the ending this way? Stupid brain. He doesn’t even remember when he fell asleep.
“We can watch the ending together once the morning comes,” Mingyu rasps, and it’s only then that Wonwoo realises that Mingyu is on the floor.
“What the fuck, Mingyu, why are you on the floor in fucking December?”
He pushes away the blanket wrapped around his body, nearly tripping onto Mingyu’s large frame as he stumbles to the other side. His body trembles in a shiver despite the warmth in the room from the central heating, and he takes a breath before pulling the arm beneath Mingyu’s head, trying to get him up. He’s half-delirious with slumber, but all he can worry about is that Mingyu might catch a cold if he stays any longer. It’s only one in the morning, so it hasn’t been more than an hour since Mingyu decided to sleep on the fucking floor.
“You could have just roomed with someone else,” he says, voice taking a scolding lilt.
“Seokmin’s with Minghao. Jihoon hyung is with Jisoo hyung,” Mingyu grumbles, letting himself get pulled up slowly. That’s understandable; nobody would sleep beside someone they just met a few hours ago, so obviously Jisoo asked for Jihoon.
“You could’ve at least asked for a spare mattress,” he chides, hauling Mingyu to his feet before pushing him to sit on the bed. Mingyu wraps his arms around himself to preserve the warmth, and Wonwoo’s heart does a little flip at the endearing sight.
“Come on, sleep.”
The bed is queen-sized, so it won’t be a tight fit, either.
“I just wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable…” Mingyu trails off, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes.
“It’s no problem,” Wonwoo says. He doesn’t think about how he hasn’t slept beside another person… ever. Probably the last time he did, he must’ve been a stupid toddler with his mother beside him, fast asleep.
Mingyu looks at him, his eyes heavy with sleep and lips jutting out. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He nods, trying to push at Mingyu’s shoulder to force him to get to the other side.
“Okay, then.” With that, Mingyu rolls over to the other side, and Wonwoo gets into the bed, pulling at the blanket before pushing it towards Mingyu.
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
There’s enough distance between them, but Wonwoo’s heart rate picks up either way. It’s unbearably silent, but soft snores begin echoing in the warm comfort of Seungcheol’s room — the room he is most familiar with, having gamed with Seungcheol pretty often as a freshman — and he finds sleep coming to him easily yet again.
When Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed, he feels a pang of disappointment. The dorm feels even emptier, the padding of his footsteps lonely as he barges into Jisoo’s room.
“Morning,” Jihoon greets quietly, looking up from his phone. Jisoo is fast asleep beside him on the bed, and Wonwoo tilts his head.
“Good Morning.”
Jihoon’s gaze follows his, and he sighs out. “Get up, hyung.” He shakes Jisoo’s shoulder lightly, and the older rouses quietly. He looks around disorientedly, and Wonwoo’s lips twitch up in amusement.
“G'morning,” Jisoo says, accent foreign and sweet. He yawns, pushing himself up to sit. “They’re gone?”
“Good morning, and yeah,” Wonwoo responds. It feels too empty, and Wonwoo wonders how Jisoo is going to spend two whole months in such an empty dorm. Perhaps they should actually make some plan together and get out of the campus for a while, but he isn’t sure if it’s the right time to bring it up. Jisoo’s birthday is in just five days after all.
He follows Jihoon into his empty dorm, and they whip up some breakfast together — a failed case of sunny-side-ups on toasted bread — and sit down on their mini dining table for four as they munch on their food while scrolling through their phones and chattering about random things.
Empty house, empty schedule, lands him with a stupidly full head. A face forms in the depths of his brain when he ends up in Jihoon’s room in a pathetic attempt to fight off the loneliness, and he wishes he could reach out to the person his curious head wants to. But it’s unlike him, so he waits the next five days impatiently and acts like the thoughts in his head aren’t his at all.