Chapter Text
According to Mark, singing group member and English-speaking best friend extraordinaire, the trendiest way to say excited nowadays is to employ the word psyched with an “emphasis on emphasizing it within the context of the sentence”. Whatever that meant.
Mark’s voice reverberates in Jungwoo’s head as Jungwoo desperately tries to hark back to how he got here, peering through his overgrown bangs at the serene slumbering face of a man he apparently took home last night.
Jungwoo’s memory of last night is quite foggy. He recalls that Mark had convinced him to stop by Johnny’s house party after they had finished volunteering at the nursing home. Having nothing else worthwhile to use as an excuse, Jungwoo relented, but, given a choice, Jungwoo would unsubscribe from both Mark’s animated English prattling cycling through his head and from any post-work schemes of his that don’t involve ordering in and watching some banal drama as they ate.
He flips to his back with a huff to keep himself from the inappropriate staring he’d been partaking in. Jaehyun , Jungwoo recalls the other man murmuring into his ear. Jaehyun Something , presumably. Obviously. Jungwoo’s position apparently hadn’t been deterrence enough, as his head still whirls to face the sleeping man when he delegated more effort into trying to remember what Jaehyun’s last name was than into keeping himself from gawking.
Fine. Maybe Jungwoo remembers more than he’d like to believe.
It was meant to be simple. Stop by Johnny’s, say hello, have one drink to endure a well-meaning gag about their side gig of singing for nursing home residents on a weekly basis, and then head home for some warranted sleep after a week’s worth of midterms. Sure, he remembers the profound delight blooming in his chest after his solo went well, but that wouldn’t usually equate to going along with Johnny’s suggestive proposition to have a shot in celebration. Honestly speaking, he doesn’t know how that had convinced him to have another drink (and then another), but, in his defense, even Yuta was flushed from the scotch he had imbibed despite typically sticking to smoking during Johnny’s functions.
And of course he remembers when he first laid eyes on Jaehyun.
Last name notwithstanding, Jaehyun’s appeal was evident in that he was far beyond easy on the eyes because of the specs that hung low on the bridge of his elegant nose and even with the fringed cheetah print button down slung over his broad shoulders.
(Briefly, Jungwoo recalls how he shivered from Jaehyun’s proximity as Jaehyun leaned over him to ask if he could refill Jungwoo’s cup that had only been rapidly downed because of the soft smiles, throaty chuckles, and dimples Jaehyun kept awarding Jungwoo’s silly little jokes. Jaehyun had taken the shiver as a sign that Jungwoo had grown cold and immediately set off to shrug off the cheetah print button down. Jungwoo was momentarily bereft of speech by the view of the hard planes of Jaehyun’s chest and shoulders before he dismissed Jaehyun’s offering his outerwear.)
Anyway, theirs is a typical meet-cute: a couple rounds of beer pong and table tennis with Jaehyun as his duo partner, a couple of celebratory drinks, a couple more to wash down the feeling of Jaehyun’s fleeting touches at his waist and lower back as they maneuvered around one another to win, etcetera. Also, can he really be blamed for getting carried away when Johnny had been the one who hadn’t put away the mistletoe that had made its home in the corner of the living room, where he and Jaehyun had somehow ended up under, despite Christmas being three months ago? Jungwoo’s an engineering major and unfortunately sees an equation in everything. Who was he to overlook the most perfect one?
Oh, god, Jungwoo bemoans in his head, realizing how weird he was being as he argued with himself, did his weird creep into bed last night? His brain unhelpfully recalls how he murmured (read: purred) into Jaehyun’s ear as he flipped their position to finally fulfill the dream he had unwillingly dreamt to see what Jaehyun looked like beneath him.
Of course the view was exquisite, Jaehyun’s dark hair splayed across Jungwoo’s pillow, a tender smile gracing his features. Worse, Jungwoo’s brain supplies him with the memory of Jungwoo pressing his index finger into the dimples that made a frequent appearance throughout the night.
Stop, Jungwoo pleads with his brain, and accidentally groans aloud much more heavily than he intended to.
Thus, Jaehyun, with half his face still pressed into the pillow, awakens.