tags: alternate universe - non-famous, accidental dating, kakao messaging mishaps in the face of true love, love confessions, first dates, friends to lovers, barely there non-explicit sex scene, wonwoo: adult drama queen
synopsis:
A message pops up before Wonwoo can throw himself off the bed in agony. A simple one word reply.
🩷이지훈 12:02 a.m.
그래
That’s it? He had expected more in the two minutes it took Chan to type. It doesn’t seem like Chan at all. Chan at the very least would add emoticons or be more enthusiastic or he would find a way to carefully word his rejection but he would never—
Oh. Wonwoo blinks at the contact name again. It is not, in fact, Lee Chan he had texted at all. Oh shit—
Wonwoo accidentally asks the wrong Lee out on a date. Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind at all.
published 2024, archive of our own | 16,780 words | 2 chapters
my notes: this is the funniest fic in existence, i think. it is Genuinely Hilarious but also genuinely so sweet and so well written. i guess it could be considered at least slightly ooc with wonwoo, but personally, i think the loserisms are right on the money. that's him!! he IS a pathetic wet cat!!!! thank you ao3 user chocolatemilk139 for blessing me with yet another wonhoon masterpiece (they are the god of wonhoon ficdom).
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
pairing: wonhoon (wonwoo/woozi)
rating: E
tags: idolverse, unrequited love
summary:
Wonwoo hasn’t gotten angry in a long time, but it’s been bubbling right under the surface all day, all week, maybe the past few months since Soonyoung started spending all his free time with his brand new hyung. “Are you looking for a fight?”
Jihoon swallows, his eyes flicking down and back up again. “Maybe.”
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really want to see your interpretation in words on wonhoon love language for eachother so maybe a Drabble on that? lol p.s: happy ww day! ww cares us sm.
have a research fellow wonwoo/cool and hip composition lecturer jihoon on me!
woonhon, 529w, gen.
Wonwoo lost his boyfriend in the crowd of their friends thirty minutes into Seungkwan’s karaoke session, but he’s not surprised to find Jihoon lying on his bed and scrolling away on his phone when Wonwoo retreats into the comfort of his own room.
Jihoon puts his phone away mid-text. “What did Minghao get you?”
“A luxury tea set. I think it’s more expensive than my entire wardrobe.”
Judging by the tone of Jihoon’s hum, he agrees. Wonwoo can tell apart his hums now. The mattress dips beneath them as Jihoon moves closer to him.
“Did Jeonghan hyung give out underwear again?”
“Yes,” Wonwoo snickers. “Is that his present to everyone this year?”
He suspects Jeonghan had made the mistake of allowing Junhui to talk him into online shopping again and ordered a dozen boxes instead of a single one. The last time, he bought masks. This time, underwear. The song is as old as time, really.
Jihoon shrugs. “My turn isn’t for another four months, but I suppose we’ll find out then. What about Seungcheol-hyung?”
“Cash,” answers Wonwoo. “Told me to spend it wisely.”
Of course, Wonwoo appreciates the gesture. He loves his job to death, but who knew being a research fellow in one of Seoul’s top research universities doesn’t pay as much as the prestige alludes? The cash is going to his emergency fund, and maybe he can set some aside for his holiday fund. It’d be nice to take Jihoon someplace quiet in December.
“Well.” Jihoon’s voice breaks his reverie. “Better that than secondhand shoes.”
“I’ve only worn them once,” they both mimic Seungcheol simultaneously.
They burst into synchronised laughter; the same song, one pitch apart. Wonwoo leans into him, an unconscious habit developed through muscle memory. Jihoon smells like his fabric softener and the strawberry shortcake he had for dessert.
“Here’s mine,” Jihoon says when he quiets down, pressing a small rectangular object to Wonwoo’s palm.
He looks down, then up again. “I hope this is at least 32GB.”
“Don’t be an ass. There’s a song in there, just listen to it.” Wonwoo straightens up only for Jihoon to tug him back down by the collar of his shirt. “Later, Jesus. When I’m not around.”
Typical. Wonwoo laughs and kisses him, taking his time as Jihoon incrementally relaxes underneath him. His hand goes from a fist to an open palm, sliding across Wonwoo’s nape. The touch is far from possessive, but Wonwoo knows he’s owned.
They part with a quiet sound. Jihoon’s lips are shiny and kissed-red. Wonwoo wants to study him from head to toe. “You can just say these things to my face, you know.”
“Not without stroking out, I can’t.”
“Thank you,” he rests their foreheads together. “I love it.”
“You haven’t even listened to the song.”
“I love it,” Wonwoo repeats, doubling the amount of conviction he lets drip into his tone. “I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He gasps, feigning offence. “How dare you yeah, yeah me on my birthday!”
Jihoon rolls his eyes but drums his fingers on Wonwoo’s neck. He draws Wonwoo close again. “Me too,” he confesses. “Me too, Jeon-san.”
