Work Text:
Wonwoo knew the back of Jihoon's head better than anyone.
It wasn't unusual to find him standing behind him, in part because that was usually their lineup whenever Seventeen would greet someone officially, but also because it was easy to see past him given his slightly smaller stature. That wasn't why Wonwoo kept standing next to him or behind him, however, whether they were barbequeing, just talking or messing around, no.
Something about him was magnetic, and Wonwoo only felt it grow stronger over the course of their friendship. There was something comfortable and safe about being around him.
He had that effect on everybody, it seemed. Everyone Jihoon met with that wide, dimpled smile on his face and eyes curved upward seemed to fall for him, in one way or another. He was serious, yes, hard working, dedicated, passionate about music nearly to a fault and people around him respected it. Wonwoo did too, of course.
But he'd spent what felt like hours just studying the soft hairs at the back of his neck between each color on top--black, brown, blonde, pink, orange, purple, now blonde yet again. He'd let his eyes wander down the length of his neck, the skin there smooth and pale. He noticed the little way Jihoon would hunch his shoulders forward when he was tired, long fingers rubbing over the back of his neck to give it a massage and he was strangely entranced by the motion.
It made concentrating on his book very hard when Jihoon finally turned to him.
"Wonwooyah-- yah, idiot," Jihoon speaks up louder because Wonwoo was staring and he earned a dubious look from the young producer. "What the hell are you doing? What are you looking at?"
Shaken out of his reverie, Wonwoo blinked a few times, gaining eye contact with his friend and he exhaled a soft breath. "Oh, uh," he tried to form sentences that wouldn't sound completely like a lie. "Just spacing out." The rapper decided on quietly and Jihoon quirked a brow, though he seemed to accept it.
"Is that book good?" The singer asked softer this time, turning his chair around some more. They had been in the recording studio for hours now. Wonwoo had just been listening to Jihoon work on the concert mixes as he liked to do, and Jihoon never seemed to mind having him there for the company. Wonwoo felt slight embarrassment creep onto his cheeks, because truthfully, he hadn't even read a word of the page yet and the rest of the story escaped him.
"Pretty good, I'll tell you about it when I'm done," the rapper offered. At least that'd get him off the hook for now. His eyes wandered over his friend's relaxed position: he was reclining, wearing all black-- a simple oversize t-shirt and some black basketball shorts, blonde hair mussed up from the way he'd pushed his headphones off his head this time.
It made Wonwoo grin and he got up, setting the book down for a moment. His fingers reached out to gently brush some of those blonde strands of hair back into place, Jihoon's curious eyes following his movement, just shy of leaning back and away from the touch, but he didn't. "You're a mess," Wonwoo said with a quiet tease on his tongue, looking down and this time it was into Jihoon's eyes instead.
His eyes were deep, warm and dark-- piercing, if he was mad, focused, or annoyed, a soft, pleasant, happy warmth in them if he was excited or amused. Wonwoo reasoned that this was one of the things that made people feel so attracted to him.
"Shut up," Jihoon sneered and lifted his hand to give Wonwoo's gut a gentle punch. He kept it light, however, considering his state. Although he was technically healed, Jihoon figured a punch wasn't exactly going to help anything and Wonwoo appreciated the quiet concern. Jihoon had been one of the people who had really looked after him a lot this past month, who had made sure he'd taken his medicine, eaten his meals and Wonwoo couldn't thank him enough.
The producer's fingers lingered and gently grabbed onto the bottom of Wonwoo's shirt as if he wanted his attention.
That little touch made the rapper's heart suddenly pound in his chest with anticipation. He couldn't explain why and if he tried it was probably one of those things that took several volumes of books to explain.
"What is it?" he asked softly then, shifting to squat down next to his chair, his hands gripping onto the arm rest of the chair instead.
Jihoon's hand lifted and suddenly there were fingers in Wonwoo's dark hair, an involuntary chill running down his spine, goosebumps rising along his arms. The touch made his breath catch and his fingers twitch against the chair and part of him thought this wasn't fair, but part of him just wanted more-- a part that was growing steadily with each passing second.
The silence in the room was heavy, but not uncomfortable while Jihoon's fingers slowly brushed Wonwoo's own hair back from his forehead slightly. It was always hard to tell what exactly Jihoon was thinking, especially this close where the rapper could do nothing but focus on how pink and inviting his lips were and how the corners of his mouth were curving upward.
He didn't know why, but when Jihoon leaned in to brush their lips together, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel like everything he'd ever been curious about, every feeling in his body he'd never understood suddenly washed away, leaving room for the purest form of adoration. Finally, he understood each time they'd looked at each other a little too long, stayed close together, the shiver in his body whenever Jihoon would throw his arm around him. It all seemed to make sense while their mouths kneaded together, slow and exploring and god, his mouth was so warm and the rush that came with that single touch had Wonwoo surrendering into the kiss with ease.
Wonwoo knew he should've realized it sooner, but somehow he's glad he didn't.
Ah...
So this is what love feels like.