#and they kissed mingyu in wonwoo's body ooOOOooo~~

[thepixelelf]

genres/tags: body swapping/your name au; mystery; angst; minwon are roommates; reader is a small town [gender neutral] living in a lonely world. warnings: coarse language; major character death (non graphic/not shown). wc: 1.8k

love triangle au requests

[where and, more importantly, when] In the past week and a half, Wonwoo has slept better than he's ever slept in his life.

Actually, maybe "better" isn't the best descriptor for his sleep. Longer, certainly. Dreamless.

When he closes his eyes, he no longer dreams through yours. He no longer finds himself trapped in your tiny town, in your lonesome loft, in your dead-end job...in your body.

Wonwoo keeps telling himself he should be happy; relieved. What he was calling a curse a few weeks ago is finally over. He isn't waking up in an unfamiliar body every other day anymore. You're not messing with his life anymore, intentionally or not. Yes, he should be thankful that all that body-swapping nonsense is over.

Groggy, eyes drooping, Wonwoo watches coffee drip from the Keurig into his whale shark-shaped mug. You'd bought that mug with his money, at the aquarium you went to in his body, since your small town doesn't have places like that. (And you've never left.)

((In your own body, anyway.))

The TV across the apartment plays the general news channel, but Wonwoo stopped paying attention at some point.

His phone lies face up on the counter in front of the coffeemaker, the daily journal app you used to keep him up to date on your shenanigans in his body open. If it weren't for your notes — and the kitschy mug in front of him — he'd almost believe that all the times he woke up and spent the day in your body were dreams.

Wednesday 10:38PM Obviously I didn't take your car to the aquarium. You city people drive like fucking animals. Makes me glad I've never left.

Thursday 3:45PM You don't act like it. -W

Friday 11:01PM It's not like I've never wanted to leave. I mean, you've spent enough time there to understand. Everyone wants to leave, but it's only the lucky ones who actually do. I know we've been complaining about this whole thing a lot. But... I don't know. It's been nice to not be me. For a little while. You probably understand by now why I can't leave. I know you've been receiving the calls. My mom's condition has been like that for years... I don't want to leave her alone.

Saturday 11:48PM I didn't mean to be nosy, but they called you/me yesterday. They said your mom was awake and asking for you... but she was unconscious again by the time I got to the home. I can take care of her too, when I'm you. If you're okay with it. If not, that's okay too.-W

Sunday 9:06PM She'd know you're not me. I don't want to scare her.

Monday 11:59PM I could still take care of her. From the sidelines. If you want. -W

Wonwoo stares at the last note he put in the log. He didn't swap with you that night, or any night since, so you haven't read it. Now he's finding it hard to accept that he'd settled for this mode of communication. You'd tried to trade phone numbers at one point, but his messages weren't sending. The ones that you'd sent as a test went through, but there were no notifications for them. By the time he'd thought to scroll through his old messages, it was like yours were always there. He knew it wasn't because you blocked him — he could check when he took over your body, after all — so it didn't really make sense.

Not that any of this made sense, but still.

Something must have happened for the swapping to suddenly stop with no warning, but then again, it's not like either of you got any warning when it started.

Sighing, Wonwoo pulls up your number and hovers his thumb over the call button. He's never spoken to you, really — only ever heard your voice when he was using it.

He taps his thumb and brings his phone up to his ear.

It rings until the automated voicemail message plays, and he hangs up.

Then tries again.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice answers.

Wonwoo blinks. He's never talked to you face to face, but he knows this voice is one he's never heard before. "Who is this?"

"Who is—" The voice chuckles. "You called me, buddy."

"I'm looking for..." Saying your name out loud feels strange. He's never told anyone about you.

"Sorry man, they must've given you a fake number."

Wonwoo frowns. "That's not possible." You sent those messages to him before with the exact number he's calling now. "Just a couple weeks ago we—"

"I've had this number for like two years, so I don't know what to tell you."

"Two years?" Carelessly, Wonwoo's hand shoots out to support himself on the counter, and he knocks over your whale shark mug. "Shit." Hot coffee spills all over fake marble, and the handle of the mug cracks completely off. "Fuck."

Wonwoo hangs up on the stranger even as they ask if he's okay, and he tosses his phone on a dry section of the counter so he can hold the broken handle of your mug in one hand and the rest in the other.

He doesn't get it. He really doesn't.

But he feels like crying.

Why did it stop?

Where did you go?

Why did he have to break the one thing he has here that's yours?

The front door of the apartment opens, and through it steps Mingyu in his work attire. He toes off his shoes, puts his wireless earbuds in their case, and when Wonwoo can't hold in a sniffle, Mingyu looks up at him.

He meets Wonwoo's teary eyes, glances at your broken mug, and, shocked— 

Whispers your name.

Wonwoo's mouth drops open. He can only stand frozen as Mingyu marches up to him and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Is that really you? It’s okay. It’s okay. We can go back and get you another one! Where were you? I’ve been— I thought—”

Careful not to touch him with the broken edges of your mug, Wonwoo pushes Mingyu off. “You knew?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, and he backs off with a faux casual cough. “Haha… Knew what…?” he drawls, avoiding Wonwoo’s hard gaze and scratching the back of his neck.

“Don’t play stupid. You said their name.” Wonwoo puts the pieces of your mug on the counter. “How long?”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Mingyu.”

“The whole time?” Mingyu flinches back, wincing with one eye peeked open to watch for Wonwoo’s reaction. “Um…”

Wonwoo feels dizzy. “The whole time?!” he echoes. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“They told me not to!” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. “They were embarrassed I caught them so quickly.”

“But… You… Wait, the aquarium… You went together…?”

Leaning into it now, Mingyu talks over Wonwoo’s confusion. “So where are they? Do you know what happened? Why did the swapping thing stop? Did you figure out how it works? Are they ever coming back?”

Wonwoo snaps back to into it at that last question. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Well do you know where they are?” Mingyu steps closer, his brows furrowed. “I tried calling them but some random guy answered. And I don’t know why — I swear they’ve told me a million times — but every time I try to remember the name of their town, I can’t. It’s like a blank spot in my brain.”

Wonwoo frowns. “It’s—”

Wait.

“It’s…”

The name is on the the tip of his tongue, but why should it be stuck there? He was living every other day in that damned town.

“Right?” Mingyu says. He snaps his fingers. “I know it sounds something like… cargo, or gunley, or scarsborough, or—”

“—reporting to you live from Garneau—”

Both of them whip their heads toward the TV, where a news reporter stands in front of a woodsy area. The sky behind them is gray, and the trees are lit by flashing blue and red lights

“It’s been just over two years since a missing persons report was filed after a barn party that was held on the outskirts of Garneau.”

“‘Barn party’?” Mingyu repeats. “Isn’t that—?”

You were the first person Wonwoo had ever heard use the term, since you were planning on going to one with your shitty coworkers. Wonwoo told you not to go — not just because of that one asshole who would always look at you in a way that made Wonwoo shiver, but because barn parties, whatever they were, couldn’t be fun. He had no thoughts on whether or not it would be dangerous.

“This morning, intense rainstorms in a marshy area not far from that party led to the discovery of a human body in the mud. Forensics are showing the person to have been in their mid-twenties, and that their body was submerged for at least one year.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenches.

“Other details are currently unknown, but speculation leads to a connection between the missing persons case from two years prior. We urge anyone with any information on—”

Mingyu gasps when the reporter says your name.

“—to come forward. Until more information is discovered, however, this has been—”

“What the fuck.” Mingyu looks over at Wonwoo, whose face is blank. “What the fuck. What the fuck!”

Wonwoo says nothing. He can’t.

A week and a half ago, he started looking up treatments for your mother’s condition and better homes for patients like her. He missed a deadline for one of his projects while searching for other places you could visit as him that you couldn’t go to in your town, like the giant indoor amusement park, or that cheesy rainforest-themed restaurant. The last time he was in your body, he left a bowl of sliced strawberries in your fridge after you lamented missing the day some client sent an edible arrangement to your work.

Was that two years ago for you? Did you ever even see them?

Wonwoo goes to the entrance of their apartment, grabs his jacket, shrugs it on while slipping into his shoes, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

Mingyu puts his hand over Wonwoo’s. “Where are you going?”

Jerking his wrist, Wonwoo yanks open the door. “To find them.”

Mingyu follows him into the hall. “Didn’t you see the news? They’re—” He stumbles, eyes wide and breath starting to grow uneven. Then he swallows that moment of realization down and meets Wonwoo’s eyes with an uncertain tilt to his mouth. “You really think you can find them?”

Wonwoo can't answer that. “But I'm going anyway.”

Running his hand through his hair, Mingyu turns around for a few seconds with the other hand on his hip. He sighs before dipping back into the apartment.

When he comes back out, his steps are heavy with determination.

“I'll drive.”