#not sure how much weight the second question in the quiz carries.. I honestly wish they had an option “neither or something” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungnoir · 7 years ago

Text

three’s company;

⇢ summary: the basketball team captain and the bookish loner both have crushes on you. this sounds an awful lot like a movie you’ve seen before. a birthday present for this beautiful woman aging like fine wine, @yongceo.

⇢ relationship: choi seungcheol/reader/jeon wonwoo.

⇢ genre: high school!au, romance, humor.

⇢ words: 9.1k

⇢ warnings: reads like a cliche romantic comedy and that’s exactly what I was going for.

a/n: this wound up as the theme song for this heh

In your defense, there was virtually no way you could have avoided this fate of yours, and just as equally no way you could have known that you’d be caught in a terrifyingly familiar love triangle between your best friend, Jeon Wonwoo, and his best friend and captain of the basketball team, Choi Seungcheol. But I mean, when had life ever given you a head’s up about anything? Let alone what could potentially be a disaster of rom-com proportions?

“I’m in pain for you, I really am,” the sound of Wonwoo’s deep but nevertheless mocking voice catches your dazed attention the minute he makes himself known behind your open locker door, cat like eyes turned up into small smiles of their own as he watched your face fall into a pout, “I’ve known the dude almost as long as I’ve known you, and he’s absolutely terrible at history. You’re basically going to be doing like 90% of the project.”

“What about the other 10%?” You ask, picking out your books for the next period with quiet mourning. Really, anyone would kill to be Choi Seungcheol’s partner in anything, for anything, and it wasn’t like you wouldn’t either. Despite the boy being close childhood friends with your own, your paths had never really crossed enough for you to avoid getting a little starry-eyed at the mention of his name. In fact, had you both had such a relationship, you probably would have fallen much harder.

Your sullen attitude was more so directed at the fact that 1). you had the envious attention of every other admirer of his in school and 2). there was no way in hell you were ever going to focus with him in the midst. You might as well have marched up to your teacher and demanded he stamp a bright red “F” on your forehead to get it over with.

“He’ll present it all and look really handsome and intelligent while doing so.” Wonwoo explains, shaking his head as if he’d suffered a similar situation. He had, in all actuality, and it was still a soft spot for the boy.

You don’t mean to but your mind instantly wanders to a visual of Seungcheol doing just as Wonwoo had said, and you can’t help but melt a little, “Is that so bad?” You dreamily sigh.

Seconds later, you’re met with a sharp pinch to the side that has you cowering into the metal lockers for safety from your offending best friend, his eyes narrowed into stern slits that make you sober up quick, “Seriously, (Y/N)? You remember how heartbroken I was about the chem project from-” “-ninth grade, you never let me forget. But I really don’t think it’s Seungcheol’s fault that you chickened out so bad before your presentation.”

His eyes narrow more, if it was even possible, and then he lets out a heavy sigh that tells you something else is on its way, and if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it was probably going to be a- “Just... don’t get too lovestruck, okay? I know you like Cheol and all, but don’t be afraid to force him to work. He needs a little prodding every now and then.”

Wonwoo was never void of concern for you, and while at times you honestly wished the boy would lighten up, it made you oddly grateful for his caring nature. He had always been the one to check your bruises when you got pushed around on the playground, always the one who would take the blame for you in a heartbeat if it meant you got out of trouble unscathed. He was a little uptight and a little hesitant, but he always meant well, and you knew you could trust him. After all, he was the closest person to you in life.

For a while, where you stood with Wonwoo was certain in your eyes. You two were best friends, inseparable. Even after nearly ten years of friendship, the two of you had always been funnily close. Both of your parents had found it endearing how close you were, how easy it was for you two to melt into each other; words, actions, mannerisms and all. You had always seen him as the one that would be your maid of honor (because god damn it, dudes could be maids of honor too in your book), the one who would send his kids to playdates with your kids, the one that your husband would be terrified of getting on the wrong side of if he wanted your approval. Wonwoo was attached to your hip, and for a while, that was all well and good and platonic.

But with the start of high school came many changes. You were growing, as was he, and your bodies were telling you new, exciting things about everyone around you. But more in particular, they were telling you that Wonwoo was actually a pretty great guy, and despite his squeaky voice at the beginning of high school, he’d matured into a pretty attractive contender in the sea of boys at your school. You hated to admit it, but you had slowly and surely began to see him in a much, much different light.

But along with your feelings toward Wonwoo came your inevitable attraction toward Seungcheol, his best friend and Mr. Popular from preschool well into senior year. You had seen him in a pretty apathetic light up until he’d sprouted in height and packed on a few muscles from his endless basketball games with his friends, one of which happened to include Wonwoo. On the days Wonwoo could get you to come cheer him on, you’d often find yourself enthralled with the specimen that was Seungcheol. You blamed it on science; you could do that, right? It was just... hormones.

But it continued on for several years until you were pretty damn sure this was an irreversible love.

If Wonwoo could hear your thoughts now, he might’ve choked. “You listening?” He asks, looking a little annoyed at your vacant expression.

You’re about to reply, mouth already forming some excuse as to why you were so spaced out (”It’s just the upcoming algebra quiz”) when something about the atmosphere changes. Had you been new to the school or maybe not as fine-tuned to your surroundings you’d have missed it, but there was no mistaking why heads were turning all around you.

Speaking of the devil, there he was.

Seungcheol strutted down the hallway, high-fiving his many, many entourages of friends as he made his way through the school. It almost looked cliche how well liked and popular he was, but you didn’t exactly blame him for having the favor of everyone in school. He had the personality worth the love.

Seungcheol was never stuck up or cocky, never the beefy jock with no brain cells or a lack of kindness for those unlike himself. He knew that he could be loud and a little too friendly for the quieter majority, but he was kind and his intentions were always pure. If you had to ever fall for someone the complete opposite of you, Seungcheol was your best decision.

“Good morning to my two favorite nerds.” he jokes as he rounds up to you and Woo, slinging an arm around either of your shoulders and pulling you both in to his blue letterman jacket.

While Wonwoo fights the affection and pushes Seungcheol away chagrined, you found yourself leaning into the warmth of Seungcheol a little more the more you were allowed, and it seemed he didn’t mind. In fact, he pulled you infinitesimally closer when he realized only one of you was keen on accepting his attention, “Very well,” he turns to look down at you with a pleased smirk, “good morning, (Y/N).”

You try not to lose your breath even as he steals it with no remorse, round brown eyes looking so painfully doe-eyed that his rougher edges almost melt away out of your peripheral view. “...morning, Seungcheol.”

His smirk softens into a smile when you answer back with a much quieter voice, and you feel his arm loosen a bit around your shoulders. It annoys you how a big part of you wishes to pull him back once again. But then again, it also doesn’t.

Wonwoo watches with a small sneer, eyes flicking between the two of you with barely masked distaste, “Cheol, let her go. You’re going to squeeze the living daylights out of her with those arms.”

Seungcheol just raises an eyebrow in question, “You checking me out, Jeon?” You can’t help but laugh when Wonwoo is forced into an embarrassed splutter of words he can barely get out.

It turns out that he has to release you anyway, the bell ringing as if to tease you for thinking the moment with Seungcheol could last, and the bigger boy sighs before pulling away, though his hand lingers on your shoulder when he remembers something, “When are we meeting up for the project? I’ve already got a few articles I’d like you to look at. I’m not totally good with this academic stuff, but I think it’d come in handy?”

Both you and Wonwoo are surprised at the mention of Seungcheol looking up his own material for the project, though Wonwoo more so. The once worrying weight of having to carry the entire project on your shoulders fell flat off your back in seconds. You knew you could trust Seungcheol to treat you right, “Yes! Absolutely, Cheol. I don’t know when I’m free, but I can text you later?” All Wonwoo can think is when did you start calling him Cheol?

Seungcheol nods, and Wonwoo is almost about to make a joke about how you don’t even have Seungcheol’s number, when the first boy pulls out his phone and asks for your number instead. You rattle off the ten digits like a practiced prayer, and he diligently keeps up with you, tapping speedily away at his phone before pocketing it and waving the two of you a goodbye. You feel your back pocket vibrate and you pull out your phone in a hurry, a flurry of butterflies tickling your stomach when you see what he had sent.

(1) Unread Message(s)

received: 8:32 a.m., october 16th, 2017

+82-1-452-5336: text me soon, my lady :)

“My lady?” Wonwoo reads over your shoulder in disbelief, but even his negative attitude can’t dampen your mood now. You were positively untouchable. “How are you not cringing, right now?”

“Imagine it in his voice, Woo.”

“I am. It’s making me sick.”

“You’re probably just jealous. I’ll see you in class, okay?” You tell the peeved boy, his eyes saying he had more to argue about but his mouth remaining stubbornly shut. You wait a second longer just in case, but know you can’t hold up for much longer before your teacher would mark you absent.

And he has to watch you go, practically floating down the hallway just from a simple text from a guy he’d seen pick out his boogers and eat them way back in middle school on a dare. He has to think it was funny how things had played out, where he had ended up, the best friend in love with the best friend in love with the most popular guy in school (who just so happened to be his other best friend). He had to laugh when you said he was “probably just jealous” because, really, you might’ve meant it in regards to you snatching the attention of Seungcheol, but that really wasn’t the case at all.

Not by a long shot.

It’s two days later that you’re sitting across a table from Seungcheol in you and Wonwoo’s favorite diner with textbooks open between the both of you, one opened to the right page (yours) and the other not (his).

“What is it about history you don’t understand?” You ask, hands folded under your chin as you survey his expression. While the boy was trying his damnedest to look understanding with what you were saying the minute you started talking to him about the articles he’d found, you quickly noticed the deterioration of his grasp on the subject. He was trying his best, really, but you could see right through him, unfortunately for him.

“Well, it’s... there’s lots of things that need to be remembered. Important things, sure, but they just... kinda don’t make sense to me. I think it’s better to focus on the future in lieu of the past sometimes, you know? Remembering all these dates and rotting old dudes who “discovered” these different countries and continents gets tiring for me. Is that bad?” He asks, in no way attempting to sound condescending. Even if you severely don’t agree, you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed.

“No,” you say softly, and you can’t help your smile when his expression melts into one of relief, “that’s just how you feel, Seungcheol. But have you ever thought about how differently the world would work if we ignored the past? I mean, even in our own lives, we don’t make better decisions at random. It comes from experiencing the bad things and learning from them. Sure, the surface of learning history seems like studying old dudes and remembering big wars, but there’s more to it. Imagine all the things we could accomplish if we studied how we came to be, and learned how we should continue on.”

Seungcheol stares you in the eye, thoroughly stumped by you. “Wow,” he says after a moment, “you... you kinda got me there... but I still don’t like it.”

You burst into a fit of giggles that Seungcheol finds so incredibly endearing and shrug, “I’ll make it fun for you then.”

Just as you say so, the waitress who had come to take your orders earlier saunters over with a metallic tray, your sweet treats atop it and looking rather tempting. While Seungcheol had ordered a classic chocolate milkshake, you’d gone for a strawberry with whipped cream and a cherry on top. The diner was pretty lovely with aesthetics too because inside each milkshake was a white and red striped straw, bringing you back to the time period the diner tried to emulate.

Seungcheol’s eyes light up and he thanks the waitress with a giddy smile, hands reaching for his glass and immediately drinking his shake so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t get a brain freeze. You, slower, take your time to drink your milkshake and even you can’t help but want to inhale it like your table mate was.

“This is the best thing, Woo’s been holding out on me,” Seungcheol says with a childishly annoyed expression on his face, “Wanna try mine?”

You pull away from your straw to look at the chocolate milkshake and shrug, dragging his glass to the middle of the table and cleaning your straw off the side of your own before inserting it into his milkshake. You look at Seungcheol who looks weirdly excited for some reason, his hands clasped in front of him and settled in his lap. You reach forward toward your straw and start sipping.

A gust of air brushes against your face, and one minute your eyes are closed and you’re focused solely on the milkshake, and then the next... Seungcheol is inches away from your face, doing the same thing.

You practically choke on what ice cream is already in your mouth, the sight of Seungcheol so close driving you to inhale a breath way too fast. His eyelids are shut, enviably long eyelashes resting at the rise of his cheekbones and equally as desired red lips wrapped around his straw. His mouth is settled into a faint smile, as if threatening to widen and break into one of his enchanting grins the longer you’d stare. Yet, all you can do is stare. You can’t pull away from your drink against your better judgment.

After an agonizing few seconds, Seungcheol opens his eyes and pulls away, locking eyes with you and having the audacity to lick his lips while your cheeks warm. “Pretty good, right?”

You blank for a few moments, heart hammering uncomfortably behind your rib cage. You swear you can hear him chuckle when you turn to your history textbook and flip it to the right page, slamming the thing open almost, “Let’s start at section forty-two... p-please.”

You really shouldn’t be that surprised when you find yourself that same night, unable to concentrate on your Chem homework no matter how hard you tried. Every time you’d focus on a formula, your mind would inevitably drift to Seungcheol and that vision of him, seconds away from brushing noses with you, seconds from brushing lips with you...

And neither happened.

You let out a groan that sounds ugly when muffled by your pillow, your hands tossing your homework to the floor to the side of your bed in defeat. It was clear you’d never get a chance to think if you kept this up, but it wasn’t like your mind was exactly letting anything else happen otherwise.

You stare longingly at the wall across from you and wonder quietly to yourself if maybe listening to music would help get your mind off things when you hear something strange from the other side of the room. You stay still, eyes darting everywhere they could reach as your mind tries to process where the sound could possibly be coming from. When you hear it again however, you realize it’s the sound of something hitting glass. The glass of your bedroom window.

You roll over so fast you almost get whiplash, and your heart hammers when you see a dark head of hair peaking through the window of your room until you realize who it is. A quick glance at the time on your phone gives you your answer: you were so lost on Seungcheol you’d forgotten Wonwoo would be stopping by.

You walk over and raise the window with a mock-irritated expression on your face, “I’m starting to wonder why I’m getting used to you showing up at my window every other night.”

Wonwoo grins, pushing himself up off the rope ladder you’d left for him in the midst of your routine to prepare for his nightly visits into your home. He lands on the carpet of your floor with a toothy grin, “You leave the ladder out religiously. Even if I don’t plan to visit you make me want to.”

You had been asked a few times in your life why you hadn’t grown sick of your best friend, someone you saw for the majority of your day everyday. The only times you weren’t hanging out with him was when you were sleeping or in different classes, and even then he found some way to cross your path. Weekends were even worse. You guessed for people whose friends easily grew tiring to be around, it was easy to find hanging out with someone so often as you did Wonwoo exhausting. But you and Wonwoo had never shared the sentiment; in fact, you vehemently denied it.

Wonwoo complemented you well, from every bit of his personality to every bit of his life. He fit you in all the places you didn’t fit him and vice versa, like souls in the shapes of puzzle pieces. Usually, there was never one concrete thing you could say he didn’t complement for you.

Seungcheol had expressed his jealousy at how easily the two of you got along. You had always wondered what Seungcheol and Wonwoo had in common, because at first glance (and even at slightly closer inspection), they were polar opposites. Wasn’t it easier to be friends with someone you were a lot like rather than the other way around?

But Seungcheol fit Wonwoo in a different way. Where Wonwoo was too quiet to stand up for himself in elementary school, Seungcheol would command respect for his friend while you’d rather lead Wonwoo away to avoid conflict. Where Wonwoo would sulk around alone, you’d join him in his solitude yet Seungcheol would bring Wonwoo into his boisterous friend circles. Even if Wonwoo would complain, he appreciated Seungcheol would do such a thing for him. You guessed it was the matter of opposites attracting or the like.

Whatever it was, Wonwoo felt equally linked to both of you.

Said boy stands up and walks toward your bed but stops when he sees your things thrown haphazardly to the ground, “What’s this all about?”

You frown and flop on the bed, ��I can’t focus for the life of me.”

“Do you want help? This stuff...” he leans down to look over what you have, “you know I’m good at science! I can help.” “No, no. I can do it, I swear... I just... my mind is everywhere, Woo.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow in worry, trading his hold on your homework for a hold of the sheets on your bed as he pulls himself up to sit facing you, “Something the matter? You can tell me.”

You could, theoretically, but you also knew he wouldn’t want to hear any more about it once you did.

But Wonwoo was your best friend, shouldn’t he be understanding despite the subject matter?

“It’s... Seungcheol.” You answer finally, mouth turned down into a pout. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s expression doesn’t change, so you continue, “Today, I was tutoring him in history. Well... we kind of had a moment. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s bad, Woo. This crush is ridiculous.”

You expect Wonwoo to laugh, maybe ask you to define “moment” only to classify yours as not so, and you’re already building up possible defenses that he’d take seriously for all of two seconds. You expect him to be like the doubtful voices in your head. But instead, “Then tell him you like him.”

“Wha.... what? Tell him... I’m sorry, have we met? I can’t just tell him I like him! That’s- that’s completely out of the question-” “Why? Imagine if Seungcheol liked you back, but he never told you. Wouldn’t you want him to? But because he doesn’t, you never find out, and because you never find out, he loses his chance,” Wonwoo’s voice stays serious and his expression just as such, a side of Wonwoo you’d never seen when on the topic of his other best friend, “and you go on in life wondering what might have happened if you had just said something. Don’t do that to yourself, (Y/N). Tell him.”

You stare, wide-eyed, “But... how? Do you know if he likes me back?”

At this his face twitches, if only slightly, “I can’t tell you that.”

A good part of you feels like you’re sitting on the edge of a diving board on a hot summer day, seconds from slipping into the cool water below and finding relief. Then that good part of you is suddenly being yanked off said diving board and being told the pool was closed for the day.

Wonwoo could possibly hold the key to the question you’d been wondering since freshman year, but you’d known Wonwoo long enough to know he respected his friends. He would never spill their secrets, even for the benefit of the other. He just wasn’t that kind of person, and you both admired it because he kept your crush on Seungcheol a secret, and secretly loathed it because he kept Seungcheol’s feelings for you locked up just as tight.

Still, you would hate for your secret to be spilled, probably just as much as Seungcheol would. It was only fair, after all.

Wonwoo watches you go through the varying stages of disappointment, frustration, and acceptance in what he hopes appears vague and detached. Internally however, his insides feel like they’re a mess. Here he was, giving the girl he loved advice on how to tell the boy she loved that she loved him. He was helping his best friend fall in love with his best friend, and he was the only one privy to the fact that he had feelings too, that he applied to the situation in his own way.

He couldn’t hate Seungcheol for coming to him five months ago, cheeks warm and dusted a soft pink after he’d finished a basketball game and all he could talk about was how he’d seen you in the crowd at the game next to Wonwoo, cheering the loudest in comparison the quieter boy. He couldn’t hate Seungcheol for being human and liking someone, even if that someone was you, and even if he liked you first.

“That makes sense,” it really does, but you hate that it does even as you say it, “I won’t ask you about it again.”

Wonwoo nods, the mood having effectively dropped. He almost wishes he never came over, and had he not taken the time to sneak up into your second story window, he just might have. When he had landed in your room, he had multiple things he wanted to say to you, and now all of them sounded stupid and little in comparison to your inner turbulence.

“But I will ask this. You would have never told me to confess any other day. What made today any different?” You question.

Wonwoo bites his lip hard, threatening to draw a flow of blood to the surface if his canines were just a little sharper. Logically, it’s very simple why he told you this. You yourself had said that you and Seungcheol had had a moment, and said moment did not at all seem one sided. If there was a chance there was something more there... then what was holding you back from embracing that full force?

Or maybe, what he told you was what he had been trying to tell himself. “Felt a little philosophical today,” he smiles painfully, “and I want you to be happy.”

You can’t help the small grateful smile on your face that blooms at the sight of his, even if it doesn’t look anywhere near his usual, authentic one. “I love you, Woo. Thank you for being such a good friend to me.”

Friend. Why, oh why does that word make the two of you feel so off all of a sudden?

The following Friday is a big day for you and Seungcheol. First, you two give an exceptional presentation on your project with you smiling proudly beside Seungcheol as he explains your subject to the class with a charm you doubted could be recreated by anyone else. Your teacher even applauds the two of you when you’re done, and though Seungcheol is insistent to blame it on the fact that that particular teacher just really likes him, you assure him he’d done an excellent job regardless.

That had only spurred the grinning boy to drag you into his arms and give you a bear hug that you were sure you’d never forget; his arms felt secure, leaving you with a flustered confession choking you and leaving you unable to even say goodbye when Seungcheol informed you he had practice for the big game that night. He had left the invitation open, leaving it up to you whether you’d decide to make it or not. You had promptly texted Wonwoo to meet you in the courtyard, hoping he’d give you a little more encouragement when the time came for you to tell Seungcheol how you felt. Tonight felt like a particularly good night, and you were still buzzing from the way Seungcheol has hugged you goodbye earlier that day.

Only, Wonwoo didn’t show.

He hadn’t even opened your text, the grey font under your message still reading “Delivered”. You knew that Wonwoo didn’t have class to get to at that time, which only made it weirder to you when you didn’t run into him at any other point in the day. Even the class you shared was void of your best friend, and it wasn’t like he was texting you back to let you know what was up.

By the end of the day, you had enough worries to force you into finding Seungcheol, the only other person you could guess knew where Wonwoo might be. If he was avoiding you, that didn’t necessarily mean he was avoiding Seungcheol.

You find the latter in the gym unsurprisingly, somewhere he’d often disappear to when his classes were over for the day and the team had to get ready for a game. There’s only a few of them there however, and Seungcheol is the only one really playing. “Seungcheol?” You call, your voice a little too small to reach him as he continues to play.

Pushing yourself toward the court, you call his name, but yet again he doesn’t hear. You’re seriously considering putting yourself between him and the basket to get his attention when one of his resting teammates, Soonyoung, speaks up from behind the spout of his water bottle, “Cheol! Your girlfriend is calling you.”

Your cheeks instantly redden when that gets Seungcheol’s attention, the boy turning at lightning speed with his ball bouncing away from him, a forgotten dribble as it then begins to roll into stillness. You expect Seungcheol’s next move to be correcting his presumptuous teammate, but instead, Seungcheol just whispers your name and starts making his way over.

You can hear a terribly disguised whisper by another teammate, Mingyu, tone reprimanding toward Soonyoung, “Dude, they’re not dating. She’s practically dating Wonwoo.”

Now you’re ready to correct them both, but Seungcheol has reached you by then, already covered in a light sheen of sweat, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

You feel kind of bad that Seungcheol looks so happy you’ve come to his practice where the only person you knew personally was him, only to ask him about someone else, but you remember how worried you are and that bad feeling lessens some, “I-It’s about Woo. I haven’t seen him all day and he won’t answer my calls or texts. I don’t know if I made him mad or something, but everything was fine up until yesterday.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow some, “Up until yesterday, huh? He hasn’t texted me back since Wednesday. I assumed he was just in one of his moods and didn’t feel like talking... but if he’s not talking to you, I’m a little worried.”

So he wasn’t talking to either of you?

You can’t imagine what either you or Seungcheol could have done to Wonwoo that would make him do such a thing, and you can’t lie: it hurts that you can’t talk to your best friend.

“Gyu, has Wonwoo talked to you lately?” Seungcheol calls to Mingyu, the boy’s eyes widening a bit at the sudden attention.

You’d known Mingyu because of Wonwoo. Mingyu was just as lively and friendly as Seungcheol, which baffled you when comparing him to Wonwoo, but the two of them had been friends since freshman year when they’d both ended up as reluctant friends (on Wonwoo’s part, anyway) at the same summer camp only to find each other two weeks later on the first day of high school. You remembered how shocked Wonwoo had been to find Mingyu there when he’d “just gotten rid of him”, but you knew Wonwoo cared a lot for Mingyu in a way he never quite vocalized. If Seungcheol and Wonwoo weren’t together, he was with Mingyu.

“Uh... yeah, actually. I think he’s just in a mood. Needs some time to himself.” Mingyu explains, though his answer feels extremely lackluster to you and Seungcheol.

Seungcheol frowns, “Is that it?”

The younger visibly stiffens and the action only raises suspicions, his lip caught between his teeth as if he was fabricating a lie on his tongue while the silence dragged on. You were about to reprimand him in case he was doing so, until he spit out, “Positive.”

It still felt entirely too short of an answer for the look on Mingyu’s face, and if you could, you’d hold Mingyu hostage until he gave up the real answer, but you knew Mingyu was about as loyal to Wonwoo as he was to his word. And that was very loyal.

Seungcheol sees your dejected expression and as if a switch flips on in his head, he knows what you need. He reaches out a large hand and pulls you in by the shoulder until you’re hitting his chest in a sideways hug, the sudden affection making you blush, “I’m sure he just wants to be alone, (Y/N). This isn’t the first time he’s ignored me for a few days with no reason.” “But it’s the first time for me.” You pout in response.

Seungcheol, apparently not liking the sad look on your face, gently raises his thumb to the side of your mouth and pushes upward, unconsciously making you laugh and swat his hand away. In turn, he smiles and removes his fingers, teasingly hovering over your hair, “It’s hormones! I’m sure he’ll come to his senses by tonight and realize he’s being a butt to his best friends, specifically you. And then I’ll guard the locker room when you inevitably kick his ass for making you worried.”

You scrunch up your nose in reply, to which he can’t help but melt a little at seeing. He’d like to kiss that cute nose of yours... if he could.

Instead, he peels away from you and rubs your shoulder comfortingly, “Tell him he’ll have the wrath of Choi Seungcheol upon his head if he continues to make you sad. I’m sure he’ll be here tonight, he never misses a game.”

This shifts your focus altogether, and you quickly perk up as he begins to back toward the court again, “Oh! Speaking of, I’ll be here tonight.”

Seungcheol’s smile only widens, “Good. Make sure you stay after. I have something to tell you when I win.”

And then he turns around and jumps back into playing as if he had never left, smile falling and revealing his well known poker face. You had always admired Seungcheol’s spirit and will to turn on and off his focus when he needed to; he was truly amazing in every way. As if it couldn’t get any worse, your crush grew impossibly deeper for the last few seconds you spent watching him run around the court.

Finally forcing yourself to walk away, your mind is steadily battling on what to think about: what Seungcheol possibly had to say to you tonight, and just where Wonwoo had run off to.

Unsurprisingly, the next stream of messages directed at Wonwoo go unread and unanswered, and by the time you need to leave for the game, you’ve shut off your phone and turned off your ringer. If Wonwoo was going to avoid you and Seungcheol for no good reason, then he could do so unbothered. As far as you were concerned, friends didn’t do that to each other.

Yet, despite how upset you were at the cold shoulder he was giving you, a more prevalent part of you just wanted to know he was alright. Even if you did want to punch him in the shoulder, you couldn’t ignore your instinctual worry for your best friend.

Seungcheol’s words rung in your head even as you arrived at the gym, despite the sound of students roaring from inside making it hard to focus on them. You hoped Seungcheol was right and that Wonwoo just needed time to himself. Sometimes people needed breaks; it was normal. It hurt you, but it was normal.

It seems your time at the game won’t be as cool and collected as you had hoped it would be, because once you’ve settled into the stands, your attention is caught by none other than Kim Mingyu not in his uniform. The boy limps toward the stands with a sullen look on his face, one jean-clad leg’s bottom half encased in hard plastic while Mingyu uses the help of crutches to get into a seat a few spots away from you.

“Gyu?” You call, making him swivel around in surprise at the sound of your voice. When he sees you, his eyes immediately dart to all sides around you, seemingly searching for something or... someone.

When he looks back at you, his smile is awfully strained, “Ah, hey! You came!”

“What happened to you?” You ignore his statement and focus your gaze on his wounded leg, “You were perfectly fine four hours ago.”

Mingyu blushes, “Just a minor injury I got during practice. No biggie. A few broken toes is all.”

“Broken?” The boy winces a little at your shocked voice, “how did you... Mingyu?” “I dropped... a weight on my foot... I wanted to get a little exercising in before the game and... anyway, the boys will be great without me!”

You’re not really concerned about how well the team would play without Mingyu, seeing as Seungcheol usually was the reason they managed to win so many games in the first place, but you still feel bad for the injured, clumsy boy. He really would give his future partner the most grief.

Recalling his odd search of your surrounding area earlier, you lean in around the students between you two who couldn’t care less, “Were you expecting Woo to be here with me?”

Mingyu’s eyes bug a bit, “No!” A terrible actor he was, really.

You sigh, the exhaustion of worrying over Woo starting to take its toll on you. You couldn’t even properly enjoy the game with Woo on your mind, no matter how badly Seungcheol kept stealing glances and shooting smiles at you every now and then. “I know you know what’s wrong with him, Mingyu. Can’t you just tell me where he is at least? Or if it’s something serious?”

Poor Mingyu looks absolutely torn, a firm bite into his bottom lip giving away that whatever truth he was aware of was aching to be shared. But his hesitation tells you this much: Wonwoo had asked a lot out of him to not tell, whatever it was that he wasn’t supposed to tell.

“I... I think he’s better suited to tell you that himself.” He confesses, and turns away from you to avoid having to say more. It’s just your luck that the crowd gets rowdy then, another point to the home team thanks to the rookie Lee Chan as you hear his name being cheered amongst the chaos.

You sigh and look down at your lap, even more unsettled than you had been when you had arrived here. No longer were Seungcheol’s assuring words loud and clear in your head. All you could think and feel was Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo...

You turn your head to the side, and your lungs stutter on air; he stands out like a sore thumb, dressed in all black from head to toe and off to the side near the exit. Wonwoo is looking dead at you too, those familiar eyes downturned in a quiet apology. He doesn’t even have to beckon you forward before you’re slipping past others to get down and off the bleachers. Your determined walk toward Wonwoo becomes an irritated strut by the time he’s within arm’s length, and it takes all you’ve got in you not to grab him by the collar and shake some sense into him.

Before you can even think to, he’s grabbing you by the arms and pulling you further away from the madness until you’re nearing the doors to leave. Before he can pull you out of the gym though, you force him to stop with a stern glare, “No, whatever you have to say, say it here. I promised to be here for Seungcheol.” You wouldn’t tell him that while yes, that was true, he also hadn’t left your mind once the whole day.

Wonwoo frowns, “I’m... look, you have every right to be upset-” you nod to confirm and he bites his lip, “-but I had to... it was for a reason.”

“Apparently one only Mingyu was privy to?” You huff, folding your arms across your chest. At the mention of Mingyu, Wonwoo winces a bit.

You can hear the game still going in the background, and while Wonwoo tries to find his words, you turn around to catch sight of Seungcheol in the middle of the heat of the game. He’s drenched in sweat and focused on the task at hand, completely oblivious to the situation happening only fifty feet away from where he was currently standing. You hoped to god he wouldn’t notice, that he’d stay focused on the game and not get distracted.

“(Y/N),” Wonwoo calls your name and you turn back to him reluctantly, his eyes pleading for your attention, “I’m... I’m so sorry for disappearing the way I did. It came out of the blue but I have good reason... at least I believe it was a good enough reason.”

You scoff, “You couldn’t shoot me or Seungcheol a quick text to explain? But you had time to talk to Mingyu about whatever was going on? You do know what that makes your ‘good reason’ sound like, right? Clearly, you have something to say to me and Seungcheol.” “I do.” “Well, spit it out. What could we have possibly done to have warranted getting ignored like this, Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo looks exasperated with himself and you can’t help but feel the same, your patience wearing thin the longer he said nothing to you. Again, your attention was drawn back to the game, the update being that Seungcheol had stolen the ball, and the game was very close to being won soon. If all the times you’d seen these games was enough to go off on, Seungcheol would be making the winning basket with that shot he was readying across the court.

And, yet again, Wonwoo calls your attention back to him, “It’s not easy to say, can we go outside where it’s quieter?”

You glance from him back to the court, the ball getting passed around between the home team. The time on the clock seems to be running out, and Seungcheol is more engrossed than ever. “Wonwoo, whatever you have to say, just get it out now.” You find it increasingly harder to stay focused when you know the game is coming to an end soon, only a little while until Seungcheol would inevitably meet you after the game to tell you what he had been fixing to say since earlier. Your mind was being pulled in all different directions to say the least.

Wonwoo, though having the gall to look agitated with your easily swayed thought, begins to speak at the speed of light while you desperately try to keep up, “Okay, look, this isn’t easy for me to say and is even harder to say when you don’t seem to be fully present in this conversation, but believe me as your best friend when I say that me avoiding you and Seungcheol was a much better choice than what I was originally gonna shoot for,” you turn to stare at him in confusion, “and I could only tell Mingyu because he was there and he was listening. I would never pick him over you or Cheol unless I had to.”

The crowd is growing exponentially louder, and a quick look at the court tells you that Seungcheol is making his way to the hoop with his ball in hand; he’s going to win. “Wonwoo, speak up, it’s hard to hear...”

You move closer the louder the gym gets, and in turn he leans his head down to your ear, lips brushing the shell and making you shiver in spite of yourself, “This really isn’t how I pictured telling you this, but I couldn’t wait any longer. The reason why I avoided you and Seungcheol is because I-”

The crowd grows so loud all at once, near deafening in fact and you miss what Wonwoo says as Seungcheol scores the winning shot, taking the gold for your school once again. He flies around the court with excitement, team members giving him big, joyous hugs and throwing him this way and that in pride. Seungcheol is on top of the world, as he usually is when the team wins a game, only this time he’s looking for something in the crowd. He keeps searching and searching, eyes raking the bleachers even as people come up to congratulate him. You’re completely lost on who he could possibly be looking for... until his eyes land on you.

With a voice loud and strong for everyone in the gym to hear, Seungcheol throws his arms wide about himself with a grin that could tear his face in two and yells, “(Y/N)! I like you!”

“-like you a lot.” Wonwoo’s words are suddenly not lost to you, rushing to the forefront of your mind the minute you hear Seungcheol’s identical expression. If the crowd wasn’t loud enough before, they are now, and all eyes are on you.

Your heart jumps into your mouth just as you turn tail and throw yourself through the exit, sprinting down the hallway in a desperate need to breathe.

“Why the hesitation?”

You look away from the locker room doors, the place completely void of players from earlier save for one. The man of the night stands behind those very doors with Wonwoo, and you’d think that that was obvious enough to the gently smiling boy who had led you here in the first place.

Jeonghan, much like you and Wonwoo, only came to the basketball games because he was friends with the rest of the team. While you knew him much less than you knew Mingyu, he had always been kind to you when you spoke to each other on those rare occasions. He had also been the first one to find you when you had run out. After calming you down and having a small heart-to-heart, he had convinced you to face the music. In your case, the music was two clashing songs vying for your appreciation, and you could not find it in you to choose.

Instead of answering, you give Jeonghan a knowing look that has him smiling wryly, “Don’t glare at me, it’s not my fault you’re the most popular girl here tonight.”

You groan, having been inclined to try and forget that Seungcheol’s confession (and your assumed rejection of it) was seen by a good majority of the school that night. Monday would be hell, let alone tonight.

Jeonghan rests a comforting hand on your upper back and rubs the juncture between your shoulder blades to calm you, “Hey, take a breath. Remember, you know these two. They care about you. This is nothing a little talking can’t fix.”

You desperately want to protest, but Jeonghan’s voice is oddly calming you despite it. He’s making you feel a little less anxious, a little less like you’re about to run out of air.

He waits until you’ve given him the okay, and then he pushes one door open, popping his head inside and muttering something you don’t catch. Then, he pulls back and motions for you to enter. You do so, slowly.

When you enter, most of the lights are off in the locker room save for a select few, just enough to illuminate the bench where Seungcheol and Wonwoo sit next to each other. Seungcheol is still in his jersey and shorts with a towel thrown around his neck, hiding his face as his head hangs. In contrast, Wonwoo is sitting upright, looking you head on the minute you enter the locker room. The two of them look pretty worse for wear all the same.

“I asked the janitor to give you twenty more minutes in here. After that, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to talk this out, so make it count, okay?” Jeonghan says, and you and Wonwoo are the only two who nod. With a quick reassuring look thrown your way, Jeonghan nods at you and disappears from the room altogether, leaving you alone in peace.

To your surprise, Seungcheol is the first to speak, “I’m so sorry.”

You look to him with furrowed brows, but Wonwoo looks like he’s already heard it all before you even got here, “What?”

He raises his head some, his sweat drenched hair hanging in his face and making him look like a wet puppy... as if your heartstrings needed to be tugged any more tonight. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you... I should have listened when Jeonghan told me you wouldn’t like such a grand gesture. I should have... I should have taken your feelings into consideration instead of putting you on the spot like that. I’m sorry.”

“Cheol...” you whisper, and he hangs his head once more when he sees your sad look and mistakes it for pity.

Wonwoo stays completely silent, pretending that Seungcheol wasn’t even there to begin with. You turn your attention on him instead, frowning when he looks you in the eyes with something akin to annoyance, “What about you?” You say, voice a lot less soft. He winces slightly.

“What about me?” He actually sounds upset himself, and under any other circumstances, you might have understood, but if anyone deserved to feel the worst out of the three of you, it was you.

“You think telling me you like me is enough to make up for disappearing like you did?” If he had the guts to get snippy with you, by all means, you’d give him something to be snippy about. “At least Seungcheol sounds remorseful, and he didn’t even do anything wrong.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to protest, “I told you that I ignored the both of you because I couldn’t-” “Because what? I could understand ignoring me, but Cheol? What, did you know he was planning to confess tonight and decided you’d try to beat him to it? Seriously Wonwoo, this is messed up.”

When he says nothing, your temper flares tenfold, “You did know.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t... I never planned to tell you. Tonight or ever. At best, I was hoping my feelings would just disappear with time and you and Seungcheol could be happy with each other, just like that. But after thinking about it, and yes this was during the time I wasn’t talking to either of you... I realized the advice I gave you was pretty good advice.” You’re reminded of the night after you and Cheol’s first study date, the night he’d told you to tell Seungcheol how you felt because otherwise you’d go on in life wondering what might have happened if you had just said something.

He’d liked you even that night, and he had still tried to convince you to pursue who you wanted: someone else.

“So... so you deciding to tell me tonight was completely impulsive? You hadn’t planned this at all?” You ask, and Wonwoo nods his head in shame.

Seungcheol raises his head for the first time since you’d started talking to Wonwoo, his expression utterly defeated despite the major victory he’d brought the school that night. You felt terrible watching him have to feel that way, having to watch both of them feel so down on what was supposed to be a happy night two days ago... at least for you. “I’m sorry to you too, Wonwoo. I should have known you had feelings for (Y/N) too... what kind of best friend am I to not notice?”

“If it makes you feel better,” you start with a cautious smile, “I’m his best friend too and even I didn’t notice.”

Just like that, the three of you burst into laughter as if moments before the air wasn’t thick with tension. Suddenly, it’s just you and Seungcheol and Wonwoo and nothing more. It felt strange without that, and you’d trade anything to always feel this.

To think it ended up like this. You would have never thought something like this could happen even in your wildest dreams yet here you were, torn between your best friend and your longtime crush. This felt an awful lot like a movie you’d seen before.

“Well, you know how we feel... what about you? Do you like me?” Seungcheol’s eyes are bigger than usual, shining with that sweet comfort you’d always found so fond about the boy.

You take a deep breath, recalling Jeonghan’s comforting words from earlier, “Yes... I do like you, Seungcheol.” You watch as his face lights up and it only hurts you more when you look to Wonwoo who was already avoiding looking your way, twiddling nervous thumbs in his lap in lieu of being occupied with something else, “But I think I also like Wonwoo.”

Now both sets of eyes are on you, curious and unsure but beaming with hope that maybe you could choose one of them. Only, this was as far as you’d gotten, and you really didn’t know if you could choose.

“So, what does this mean? Do you pick me or Seungcheol?” Wonwoo asks in a tentative tone, no longer able to hide the shake in his hands.

“I... I don’t know. I like both of you, and I wouldn’t mind being with either of you, but I can’t choose. I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

The room falls back into silence, the only sounds to fill the void being the incessant buzz of the fluorescent lights above you and the sound of sneakers skidding in the hallway, no doubt belonging to that of a pacing Jeonghan. His steps are suddenly so loud, even a little louder than the running water in the back of the locker room... wait.

“Is someone else in here?” You whisper to Seungcheol, who shakes his head almost immediately.

“Jeonghan said everyone left already.”

Like he’d always been standing mere feet away, you see the silhouette of none other than Chan coming around the wall of lockers, hair damp from the supposed shower he’d just finished. There’s an earphone hanging out of one ear and a bottle of water raised to his lips as he enters your area, the younger boy looking far too nonchalant for your liking.

He looks between you, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo, eyebrow raised, “I know you guys didn’t ask, but why don’t you all just date each other and get it over with? Then you wouldn’t have to choose. It’s a win-win-win.”

The three of you are so stunned into silence that Chan decides it’s time for him to head out, and in the awkwardly loud silence, he gathers his things from his locker and into his duffle bag, shooting you all one last look before making his way into the hallway, much to Jeonghan’s muffled surprise.

You all stare disbelievingly in Chan’s wake, the door to the locker room swinging shut with a resounding click as the room resumes quietude.

And, yet again to your surprise, Seungcheol is the first to speak once more, “Well, I mean... I’m cool with it if you guys are.”

#majwrites #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol one shot #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #s.coups #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo one shot #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen

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fanta-ceo · 7 years ago

Text

Simple Touches (and Cruel Embraces)

pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

genre: angst, unrequited love, highschool!AU, Cruel!Baekhyun

word count: 5,250

description: Baekhyun laughs weakly, raking his fingers through his hair and bracing himself against the hallway wall. “You look so flustered,” he comments and bites his lip worriedly, scanning his eyes over your tense figure. “I wish you would just...move on.”

~*~

Baekhyun groans. “[y/n],” he whines, draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning against you shamelessly.

You slump forward under his weight, glancing sideways at his twitching lips and sweaty skin, and you recoil, trying to get out from under him. “Get off,” you shriek.

Baekhyun laughs, giving up his efforts to remain whiny, and he hugs his arms around you tighter, his face pressed up against yours. “But [y/n],” he whines, high-pitched and breathy with laughter. “You keep walking away from me.”

You freeze, your face heating traitorously. “Because I have classes,” you explain, voice strained. You can feel his cheek pull into a grin against your face, and you know you’ve been caught. Curse him.

“Aw,” Baekhyun coos, pulling away ever so slightly in preparation for going too far. “Am I making you feel awkward? So cute.” He pokes your cheek and unwraps himself from around you completely.

You takes your chance, stumbling a step away from him and clinging onto your purse strap like it’s a lifeline. His smile is just as pleasant as always, joyful and light, but it's a cruel thing nonetheless.

Baekhyun laughs weakly, raking his fingers through his hair and bracing himself against the hallway wall. “You look so flustered,” he comments and bites his lip worriedly, scanning his eyes over your tense figure. “I wish you would just...move on.”

That hurts.

Your stomach drops, your heart spasming, and you feel irrational tears prickling your eyes. It's not like this is the first time Baekhyun has expressed his desire for you to fall out of love with him. “You’re not making that very easy,” you say honestly, noting somewhere in the back of your mind that the hallway is nearly empty, the bell having run ages ago (sometime during Baekhyun’s laughter-- You’d been too drawn in by his bell-like voice to even care), and their voices echo loudly.

Baekhyun’s lips twist bitterly. “We’re just friends,” he complains cruelly. “I don't treat you any differently now than I did before all...this.”

Except that's not true. Baekhyun has always been a flirt, but things had gotten so much worse after you’d discovered your feelings for him together. You had wondered, at the time, if this meant he returned your affections. But this- this cruelty has gone on far too long.

“I’m going to class,” you lie. In reality, you can't imagine heading into chemistry after this. You need to go to your car. You needs to drive to Lotte World and get a slice of pizza, and you need to go home so that you can fall into your bed, and you need to cry. You definitely need to cry.

Baekhyun knows you too well to fall for this, but for once he seems to have mercy as he nods. His eyebrows are pinched, his expression withdrawn and miserable. Your heart aches, your arms hanging heavily at her sides, like lead, despite the urge to hug him. You wonder how someone so hurtful can be so pitiable, and you wonder why you ever fell for him in the first place.

(You pretend to forget his smile, his laughter, his goodness.)

Turning away, you makes your escape with an urgency to your step. You hear a teacher behind you (“Where are you going?”), but you ignore him. You ignores Baekhyun’s sheepish laughter as he makes himself known to the teacher and draws attention away from you. You ignore the teacher’s angry voice as Baekhyun takes the fall, carrying out through the hallway and piercing your ears and heart until you finally makes it through the glass double doors leading outside.

You don’t cry, but you don’t return to school either, and you explain it all away with a lie about a chemistry test that doesn't exist, studying that never had to happen, and a promise to make up the quiz in a free period you will most likely spend by Baekhyun’s side instead.

Baekhyun has never looked more beautiful. The reality hits you like a brick crashing into your stomach and twisting your insides. It’s painful and sharp, and you aren’t even sure you’re breathing-- Is that air, or is it nothingness filling your lungs? Why does it feel like you’re dying when you should be discovering life? It’s not a feeling you recognizes, and you know what that means, but it doesn’t make sense. Love is supposed to make you feel like you’re on top of the world, so why do you feel like you’re sinking?

He’s a shining star. He’s bright, and he’s gorgeous, and he knows it. He’s a performer at his peak. Everyone’s attention and adoration is on him, and he reflects their love in the most perfect way, returning emotion for emotion for emotion—until his eyes fall on you, and all you want to do is run. Or scream.

He meets you after the show, grabbing at your arms and forcing you to look at him. He doesn’t seem to get it, that you doesn’t want to be touched, even when you flinch away and fold in on yourself. You don’t want to be comforted, you don’t want to be hugged, you don’t want to talk. You want to be alone, away from him so that you can think about this on your own time and scream when you’re ready, and cry when you want to.

But he forces you to be there, with him. He forces you to be honest, and proactive. He forces the air out of your lungs, though it isn’t through the screaming you want to be doing right now. It’s through gasping breaths as he forces you to tell him why you’re crying, why you’re in pain, why everything feels both right and wrong at the same time, and how what you can’t wrap your head around most is why none of this makes sense. He forces the confession out of you. He breaks you into a million pieces, and when you’ve finally figured out how to form the words ‘I love you’…

He leaves.

The next time you see him is after having music class for a week straight. No texts, no calls. He’s sitting behind the piano, chatting loudly with Chanyeol and running his fingers subconsciously along the dark wood of his piano stool. He’s just as beautiful as before, and you nearly turn around and walks out.

But then your teacher’s eyes are on you, and he’s calling you out, asking where you’d been and telling you how happy he is that you’re finally joining them again, and all eyes are on you. You doesn’t look at Baekhyun. Instead you keep your eyes trained on your teacher, laughing uncomfortably and evading all questions so that you can escape to the storage room and unpack your instrument.

When you feel a presence behind you, you knows it’s him—ready to comfort, and force you and break you all over again in the name of ‘good friendship.’ You knows it’s coming, and you puts off turning around for as long as physically possible. But once your bow and violin are out, there isn’t really an excuse anymore.

Turning around, you brace yourself for the worst, and you gasp audibly when it isn’t Baekhyun standing in front of you. Instead it’s Chanyeol, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he faces a girl he doesn’t know how to comfort but wants to help. “I…we missed you here,” he comments lightly. “But I saw you in Math, so I know that you were at school…”

You wonder why Chanyeol thought that calling you out on her failed attempts to escape would fix anything. You wonder if you had been delusional thinking he cared about your emotional well-being, like you had been delusional about Baekhyun.

You smile weakly at him, tucking your instrument under your arm and shaking your head. “I don’t really like orchestra,” you admits honestly, but you know from Chanyeol’s inquisitive stare that he doesn’t buy your excuse. Of course not. “We should probably get back in there before we’re yelled at,” you say, smiling again, though it feels fake and uncomfortable on your face.

Chanyeol doesn’t reply, and you takes that as your excuse to flee, returning to the orchestra room and drowning yourself in a musical score you haven’t touched in over a week.

Later, you will wonder why it was Chanyeol and not Baekhyun. Why he had been the one to step up, as if he and you had ever shared any semblance of a close relationship. You’ll wonder whether or not Baekhyun smiled during class that day, whether he glanced in your direction while you steadfastly refused to look his way. You’ll wonder whether or not Baekhyun cared, and you’ll wonder how he could pretend so easily that he held no responsibility for your brokenness.

You’ll wonder whether any blame rested on his shoulders at all, or if perhaps it had been your fault from the beginning for not seeing this before it came, not preventing this disaster before the words ‘I love you’ ever even found their way into your heart.

“I’m going to the library for our free period,” you announce, pushing up out of your seat. Baekhyun is lounging in the desk in front of you, playing some kind of dumb game on his phone, but his attention is on you the second you speak.

“I’ll come with you,” he decides, letting his chair fall back onto all fours and tucking his phone into his pocket. Your heart picks up pace, and you stare at him long and hard, because the whole point of you leaving was to escape his presence.

Baekhyun never offers to come to the library with you. The library is stiff, and smells weird, and it’s pretentious. The worker ladies don’t like him, and they don’t like his friends (“precious” [y/n] excluded, of course), and Baekhyun can’t imagine, for the life of him, why anyone would ever want to spend their time in such a dusty old place.

But apparently he wants to come with you this time. That should be a good thing…right?

“Um.” You flush. “Okay, I guess…yeah. Let’s go together, then.” You let your mind wander to what you’ll actually do together, and whether it will be worth it, and why, perhaps, he’s deciding to go with you for the first time ever.

But then Baekhyun is tugging you by the arm outside, his hand curling warmth around yours as he pulls you against his side and automatically wraps his arm around your waist. You lean into him instinctually, and Baekhyun laughs. “We look like we’re dating,” he remarks.

You stiffen immediately, and Baekhyun rubs his hand against your side in an attempt to be soothing, but all it does is send shivers down your spine and make you feel even less safe than you ever did before.

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun consoles. “I know that this thing is one-sided.”

For the first time since the incident between yourself and Baekhyun, you decides to eat lunch with your friends that day. You aren’t sure what makes you decide it, why you decided to be brave instead of your usual cowardly self. You almost regrets it when you approaches the table, unsure of whether to fill your usual seat beside Baekhyun or to find somewhere else. But then he’s looking at you. You stops dead in your tracks, gripping the bags of chips tightly in you hand.

You watches in horror and dread as Baekhyun’s lips curl into his usual sunny smile, and he gestures for you to join them at the table. Your heart thuds heavily against your ribcage, but you nod and reluctantly makes your way to his side anyways.

He smells amazing. You’re unable to focus as Baekhyun wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. His cologne is a musky spice scent– You’d laughed at him when he first started wearing it, and he had pouted at you and complained until you finally admitted that it made him smell like an old man.

He should have been offended, but of course, Baekhyun had only been encouraged by your insult. Because old men are respected, after all, and Baekhyun has always been weirdly obsessed with respect, honor, and manliness.

Such a guy, you think, rolling your eyes.

A second later, you hear your name, followed by laughter as Jongdae’s hand waves in front of your face.

You blink, confused, and you glance at Baekhyun, unconsciously relying on him to be the same rock he was before any of this happened. Baekhyun doesn’t disappoint. He leans forward, resting his head on his arms and smiling brightly at you. “Distracted?” he teases. “Your sister was talking to you.”

“Oh.” You fold your arms over your chest, your fingers gripping your shoulders as you hug yourself in a poor attempt to ground yourself. “Yeah, I was just thinking about…” You don’t know what to say. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

A bright smile flashes across his face, though it’s quickly replaced with a disapproving frown. “Me, right?”

He shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Not now. It doesn’t make sense for him to look at you like that now. You’re hurting, and he’s calling you on it, and Baekhyun isn’t supposed to cross those lines. “No,” you lies, smiling. “Just thinking about the test in pre-cal next hour.”

He knows you’re lying—You can see it, the disbelief in his eyes as he once again reads you perfectly, like so many times before. But for once, Baekhyun seems to have mercy. He pouts sympathetically and rubs your arm. “You shouldn’t take such hard classes,” he chides, his thumb leaving goosebumps underneath your shirt.

Maybe he wasn’t so merciful after all.

When Baekhyun and Chanyeol first join their music class, you aren’t particularly interested in him. He’s shorter than the other guy, and while Chanyeol instantly charms the pants off of everyone in their class, it takes Baekhyun a little bit longer to worm his way into their hearts.

The first real impression you have of Baekhyun is actually annoyance. He’s loud, and he draws attention to himself in all the wrong ways. He speaks when the teacher is speaking, he spends the first several minutes of class time goofing off and putting their teacher into an increasingly awful mood, and he calls you out, of all people, for not being “outgoing enough.”

Baekhyun laughs, fist-bumping Chanyeol and Minseok at the same time, though his eyes are on you. “[y/n],” he hoots, and you slowly turns to face them, your stomach twisting with dread. “You are [y/n], right? Not your sister…what’s her name. Yeji. Yeji?”

You nod and paint a fake smile onto your face, though really what you want to be doing is packing your instrument up and finding your friends. “Yep. That’s me.”

Baekhyun smiles winningly at you, stepping away from the other two so that he’s the only one talking to you. He rocks on his feet, keeping his arms crossed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was nervous- socially awkward or something similar. But no way. This is Baekhyun they’re talking about. He knows how to perform. “[y/n],” he repeats. “You’re too quiet. You should talk more.”

You aren’t entirely sure where that conversation went, or how it ended. All you knows is that phrase, ‘you should talk more’ had been repeated many a time after your relationship really kicked off and Baekhyun turned into one of your closest friends.

‘You’re so smart,’ he had muttered, staring at you with a mouth agape and eyes wide in awe. ‘You should talk more in class.’

Or the time you had finally told him the truth about your relationship with your sister, rocky and unbalanced as it was, and he had hugged you, shaken his head, and offered you the support that only someone loyal to only you could offer, and he’d said, ‘Hey, your opinion matters. You should talk more to her about your relationship.’

You had wanted to laugh, because if anything, all you’d ever been advised in the past had been to talk less. To shut your mouth and hold your tongue, because how dare you ever hurt Yeji’s feelings. Because they’re both at fault but somehow you are always the guilty one, and Baekhyun had been your rock when it seemed like every one of your friends and your family had turned against your.

“[y/n]~” Baekhyun sings, bumping his shoulder against yours lightly, as if he doesn’t know the way your skin prickles underneath his touch, the way your heart quickens at even the slightest of brushes, the way your breath catches whenever he says your name like that, like it’s weightless on his tongue.

“Yes?” You glance at him, folding your arms across your chest as your last line of defense. The night is starry, and it’s chilly, and Baekhyun’s offer to walk you home, despite the close proximity of your houses, had been met with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. It’s a combination you don’t know how to be comfortable with yet, though for the first time, it’s a combination you actually understand.

You love him.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, and at first you wonder if perhaps he’d just said your name for the sake of saying it. It wouldn’t be the first time your name had fallen from his lips so effortlessly like it hadn’t even occurred to him he was saying it. But then he sighs, a heavy-sounding sigh, and you realize that he’d just been thinking. “I know…this probably hasn’t been the easiest last couple of weeks for you.”

You wonder if he realizes how painful that understatement is, chalking up the end of your entire world to a not so easy week. You shrug, staring forward. “It’s alright,” you lie. As if he doesn’t already know.

Suddenly, coincidentally, the distance between them as they walk increases by about a foot. You pretend you don’t notice, but you want to cry.

He doesn’t reply and for once, Baekhyun doesn’t seem particularly chatty on their walk home. You wonder if that’s because he’s uncomfortable, or if he’s acting out of mercy. You wonder if Baekhyun actually has any mercy in him at all.

You also wonder if maybe he’s hurting too, but you’re too scared to actually glance his way or ask.

It isn’t until you’re struggling to unlock your front door, too wrapped up in the thoughts spinning around in your head to actually get the key in right, and too desperate to just get it right so that you can escape from his gaze behind the solid wooden door and finally breathe properly (was it this hard to inhale the entire walk, or is that just now?) that Baekhyun finally opens his mouth again.

“[y/n]…” he begins, and his voice is soft, almost too soft to hear above your own heartbeat pounding in your ears and the jiggling key in your doorknob. But it pierces through the noise anyways, and your heart thuds against your chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore the burning hand on your shoulder. “[y/n], why are you crying?”

You don’t know. You actually don’t even know. Eyes wide, you stare forward, unmoving and frozen as his hand leaves a trail of burns and goosebumps and shivers across your back. It’s a painful sensation, and you can hardly concentrate on your face, the warm tears you can feel running down your cheeks. “I don’t- I can’t.” It’s too much. Bending sideways away from him, you stumble backwards in an attempt to get away from him and his touch before he finally manages to completely destroy you. Your foot lands at an awkward angle though, only halfway supported by the step beneath you.

You collapse to the ground, emitting a low, pained groan as you clutch your ankle and rock forward to hide your face from Baekhyun. It’s a fruitless effort though, of course, because soon enough his face is in your face, his heat crowding your heat, and his hands- his hands are running along your back and shoulders in a poor attempt at comfort that is far to physical to be even remotely soothing.

Baekhyun leans in front of your, his eyebrows pinched with worry, and his face unbearably close as he tries to read your expression. You don’t look at him, focusing instead on the pain in your ankle and taking slow, deep breaths.

He sits back, exhaling sharply and returning his hands to his own sides. You close your eyes and breathe out slowly in relief now that his hands are off of you. "We need to get you inside," he mumbles.

Before you can protest, his arm is around you again and he's lifting you up so that you can lean against his side. You grit your teeth and don’t look his way as you slowly make your way into your house. The living room is empty besides you and the dog, who after sniffing Baekhyun's leg, abandons you both to finish eating it’s food.

Baekhyun takes you to your couch, leaning forward to let you down. You drop down onto the cushions, shifting so that you can lay your leg out on the pillow beside you. "It's fine," you say, gesturing to you ankle. "It's okay. So don't worry about it. You can go home."

You’re not looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"You're hurting so much."

There's something in his voice that sounds distinctly broken, and your head whips around to face him. His expression is twisted, painful, and his body is rigid. It hurts to admit, since it's nothing more than proof at your uneven relationship, but all you want in the world is for him to smile again.

"It's not broken," you argue, unhappy in your resolve to make him smile. "Or sprained even. It doesn't hurt that much anymore."

But Baekhyun doesn't seem to relax, for some reason not reassured by your wellbeing. His fists are still clenched, and his eyes still look heartbreakingly sad. "I'm not talking about that."

Oh.

You feel a coldness wash over you and settle down into the pit of your stomach as realization dawns. Of course. He’s talking about the tears, the distance, the fake smiles. He’s talking about the pain you’ve been in for the past few weeks, not the past few minutes. That’s not something you can lie about or dismiss. You blink away a new round of tears threatening to spring up, staring up at the ceiling instead. “Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I am.”

Baekhyun sinks down onto the floor next to you, his hands reaching for you as if by instinct. For once, you actually allow yourself to shy away, flinching when he gets too close, and he immediately falls back, clenching his fists as though not touching you is somehow as painful to him as touching is to you. He buries his face into the couch cushion beneath you. “I am so sorry.”

You flinch, but before you can protest his apology, tell him not to blame himself for your emotions running wild, Baekhyun is continuing on, and the tenacity in his voice cuts you silent. “[y/n,” he begins again, hands gripping the edge of the couch cushion. “I am so sorry. For everything. I just stood by, and I just watched.”

You stare down at him, stunned, and you reaches a tentative hand out to rake through his hair. He’s hurting, and you can’t bear it, but there’s nothing you can say to fix it. He’s justified in his apology. He should be apologizing. He’s a jerk, and just because you wants him to smile doesn’t mean that you’re delusional, or that you thinks him stupid enough to fall for simple protests of ‘It’s not your fault’ and ‘Don’t worry.’

So you stay silent, waiting for Baekhyun to either continue on, or for silence to fall between you.

“I’ve been so selfish,” he confesses. “Not just that, I am selfish. I hurt you, over and over and over again, and I could— I could punch myself. If anyone else I even dared to treat you like I do, I can’t imagine…” He takes a deep, labored breath and finally looks up at you. His eyes are wet, his face red, and his smile is weak. “You don’t know what I’m talking about right now, do you?”

Actually, you’re relatively certain you knows exactly what he’s talking about. “The flirting,” you offers in explanation, and Baekhyun heaves a small, nonetheless heavy, laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head. “No, not…Agh.” Baekhyun rakes both of his hands through his hair, displacing your own hand. You know that logically, it’s not a real rejection. But it definitely feels like one, and you return your own hand to your side quickly, clenching your fists.

Baekhyun doesn’t notice, too focused on his own thoughts as he groans again. “I’ve thought about telling you this a million times,” he admits, closing his eyes, his hair raked back with his hands. “But I couldn’t…And I shouldn’t, because it’s going to hurt you, but—“

“Tell me.” Because as much as you don’t want to be hurt again, as much as you hate being hurt by him…You’re honestly used to it by now. You can take it, Baekhyun stabbing you in the heart again. You’ll survive. What you won’t survive is watching him tear himself apart like this.

Your permission seems to be all the encouragement Baekhyun needs. He bites his lip, looks down, and gives in. “I…love you too.”

Your entire world seems to come to a crashing halt at that. You freeze staring at Baekhyun, willing him to look at you, because what?

“Baekhyun,” you snap, and you don’t mean for it to sound angry, because you’re not angry, but his shoulders tense up anyways, and he’s not looking at her. And that doesn’t make sense, because how can you make a confession like that and not look?

You briefly wonder if he’s even being honest. But then he’s looking at you, and he looks like he wants to cry, and you’re stuck speechless by the sincerity in his eyes. “[y/n],” he says, and apparently he’s going to go all out because suddenly he’s grabbing your hand tightly in his own. “You are everything to me. Your smile and your happiness… [y/n], they make the world go round for me. They really do.”

His grip is too tight. It hurts, and you almost can’t hear him over the rushing in your ears, so you lean in closer, straining to catch every word.

“I used to joke around for myself, but- But now I joke around for you, and that’s actually better because it means I get to see you laugh more often, and my jokes are less rude now than they used to be, because you’re a better person than me, and this isn’t even coming out how I want it to, but it’s true. All of it.” He exhales shakily, and you take your chance to talk.

“Wait, but…Baekhyun, if all that’s true,” (and you want desperately for it to be) “then why didn’t you say something?”

“You’re better than me,” he says, like it should be obvious, and you could slap him if you weren’t still processing. “You’re so much better than me. You don’t deserve to be in love with me. You deserve… Well he doesn’t exist yet.”

You note, with a hint of a smile, that Baekhyun looks a bit like a child, pouting at you apparent belonging with someone else. “Baekhyun,” you begin, and it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Your heart feels light and not burdensome for the first time in what seems like forever. You can’t even remember the last time you felt this weightless, but your brain cautions you to tread carefully. And so you do. “If all of this is true…” He looks stricken by your doubt, and his jaw tightens, but he keeps his mouth shut anyways to let you continue. “Then why…why were you torturing me?”

His eyes flash with realization, and almost immediately, Baekhyun is up on his knees, his fingers moving softly in your hair, and your heart thuds painfully in your chest. Your cheeks warm, and Baekhyun smiles gently, rubbing his thumb against your jaw carefully. “I’m weak,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop myself sometimes. I…I wanted you to move on, but I loved the way you reacted to me.”

You realize you’re staring at Baekhyun’s lips a second too late, your eyes flashing back up to his almost a second later. He smirks, and your insides feel like they’re melting. “I still don’t understand,” he admits. “Why, exactly, I have this effect on you.” He brings up his other hand to cup the other side of your face, and he hums, his thumb pressing against your pulse. “But…I do. I make your heart race.” He leans in, his smile widening as your face warms. “I make you blush.” Suddenly, Baekhyun’s face is barely an inch away from yours. “I make you feel awkward.” He tilts his head to the side. “Which is really cute, by the—“

And then, he catches you off guard, crashing his lips against yours. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond, because since when has Baekhyun wanted to kiss you, and why hadn’t you seen it coming, and before you even know it, you’re drowning in his touch. Hands curling around his shoulders, your fingers grip onto his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, as if that’s even possible to do.

The kiss is messy with uncertainty and desperation, Baekhyun leading but hesitating each step along the way. You forget to breathe, and your lungs are burning, but Baekhyun is moving upwards, bracing his knee against the couch cushion and using his new position for technical advantage. You can’t bear to break the kiss, finally wrapped up in his warmth as you are. He caresses you arms as you cling to his shirt, and finally he’s the one to break the kiss.

His breathing is heavy ragged, and he looks disheveled. You laugh, though you don’t have the air for it, and you tease him for his breathing, because isn’t he a singer, and shouldn’t he be able to hold his breath longer?

And he teases you back, because you were gasping harder than him, and obviously Baekhyun’s kissing must be really amazing for you to suffocate for him.

Later, you would lie together on the couch, squeezed uncomfortably close together, in a tight, unbreakable embrace. Later, you would laugh and joke together, while Baekhyun runs goosebumps along your arms and you return the favor with your fingers in his hair.

Later, you would explain to him, through simple touches and big promises, all the reasons you’d fallen in love with him in the first place.

Written by: Jongecca

#baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #kpop fanfiction #exo #chanyeol

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