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starsstuddedsky · 2 years

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Shall We?

gn reader x chan

summary: having a crush on your best friend made everything more complicated. would you be able to tell him how you felt, or will you be stuck in this limbo forever?

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, university au, sports au, non idol au

warnings: none, inaccurate soccer, both main characters are dumb?

wc: 6.3k

a/n: this is the first story I’m posting!!! it was really a gift for a friend but I enjoyed it a lot so hopefully y’all do too! thank you for reading :) i wrote it in first person bc second is kinda awk for me

title: Shall We? - CHEN

masterlist

I wasn’t the type to have crushes. I could count on one hand the number of people I’d ever admitted to having a crush on, and three of them were fictional characters. It wasn’t that I didn’t find people attractive - there were plenty of people in that category. Crushes just didn’t come easily.

That was why I couldn’t decide how to deal with the big fat crush I had on our school’s star forward, Lee Chan. I wasn’t used to having butterflies when I talked to him, losing focus in class, wondering what he was doing, dropping my phone when he posted (his second ever picture on Instagram) what could only be labeled as a thirst trap.

The worst part was that he was my best friend. I’d known him since kindergarten where I ironically swore to hate him for ruining my art project. I couldn’t escape these feelings, no matter how recently they’d come upon me. I glared at Seungkwan, who sat next to me on the sofa. It wasn’t fair that the athletes got better dorms when all they did was kick some balls around, but I stopped complaining out loud when I realized I had enough friends that lived in the athlete dorms that I could stay in their rooms (with actual bathrooms!) as much as I wanted.

“First of all, you’ve been in love with him at least since freshman year,” Seungkwan said. “That’s being generous, actually, it was probably middle school. I can’t be sure it wasn’t elementary school. Maybe it was love at first sight, actually, no, I take it back, you guys are probably soulmates.”

“Are you finished yet?”

Seungkwan laughed. “All I’m saying is that I have been saying that you have been in love with him for years.”

“But I haven’t!” I punched his arm when he scoffed. “I’m serious! These feelings are new and weird and I don’t like them, and Chan is one of my best friends- actually, he is my best friend because you’re being annoying.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Good, you were meant to,” I said. “Now shut up and let me rant. I really like him, Seungkwan, I can’t even think about him without my stomach getting butterflies. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed how weird I am around him, and just can’t imagine my life without him in it.” I buried my face into a pillow. “Why does my stupid heart ruin everything?”

Seungkwan patted me on the back. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

“I have been friends with Chan my entire life,” I said, raising myself from the cushion. “I think it’s worth being dramatic over.”

“What if it were me? And we were fighting and you were worried we would never be friends again?”

“Ew, gross,” I said automatically. “No offense, but I’d be glad to be rid of you.”

“First of all, you can’t say no offense and expect it to cancel out the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me. Also, I don’t believe you at all; who else have you told about your little crush?”

“No one,” I mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.” Seungkwan sounded smug. “Now, I’m going to assume confessing is out of the question?”

“Don’t even joke about it,” I hugged the pillow against my chest.

Seungkwan whipped his phone out, snapping a picture. “Sorry, I’ve literally never seen you this vulnerable, and I’m going to need blackmail at some point.”

“You are the worst, I gave you the best blackmail in the world, do you really need a picture, too?”

“Oh, yn, I can never have enough blackmail.” Not for the first time, I was scared of Seungkwan.

“Can’t you just give me advice?” I asked. “Weren’t you known for being the love doctor or whatever in high school?”

“First of all, I was not called the love doctor, that sounds weird, please never call me that again,” Seungkwan said. “And it was a lot easier to give advice to people that weren’t both my friends. I think I have to be Switzerland on this one.”

“You’re worthless,” I said, sliding onto the floor.

“Wow, I was just about to offer you food as compensation,” Seungkwan sighed.

“Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend in the entire world?”

Having a newly realized crush on your best friend apparently doesn’t excuse you from going to all of his games, no matter how strangely nervous it made you. Normally I came early to say hi during warmups (a tradition that began during the preseason because Chan forgot something every other day, but spending so much time with two teammates meant that I got to know pretty much the entire team). The thought of trying to act like everything was fine in front of the entire team, including Seungkwan, who would undoubtedly tease me, made me sick, so I texted Chan, telling him I needed to do homework but would be there in time for the game.

It technically wasn’t a lie, but all I did was I sit in my dorm, staring at the door, watching the seconds pass by one at a time. I wondered if he would even notice if I wasn’t there.

“Don’t you have to go?” My roommate asked. “The game starts in like five minutes.”

When I didn’t answer, she said, “You’re usually at every game like half an hour early. Is everything okay?”

I shrugged. “I’m that predictable?”

She smiled. “Did you and Chan fight?”

“No, nothing like that!” I paused. “Wait, why did you ask about Chan?”

“You’re going to be late,” she said, turning back to her desk.

I was torn between questioning exactly why she thought something happened between me and Chan or going to the game. I decided going to the game would at least involve less conflict.

I had to sprint to the stadium so that I wasn’t late, for once grateful Chan made me train with him every once in a while. Luckily it was one of the regulars checking tickets, and they waved me in as soon as they saw me sprinting.

I made it to the fence line just as they finished announcing the lineup for the opposing team. I didn’t need his number to pick him out, at the far end of the field, swaying back and forth a little, tapping the toe of his left cleat to the ground and sliding his foot forward until it was flat on the turf, then doing the same with his right. I couldn’t see him clearly from this far away, but I still knew his eyes were closed, and he was taking a slow deep breath, the same routine he’d performed since he first started playing soccer.

I’d seen him in his uniform since the beginning, but in the last few days, something had changed about the way he looks, as if I was only just now noticing the toned muscles in his arms, the way the uniform was loose yet still showed off shoulders that I knew from experience were firm and perfectly fit for my head. How many times had I rested my head on those shoulders without feeling a thing? Why was everything different now?

They were halfway down the lineup when he turned to the crowd. I watched him as his head turned slightly, scanning the stands, then lowering his chin and looking along the fence line. I could see the moment his eyes passed over me, fully expecting him to continue looking at the crowd. Instead, he stopped, holding my gaze despite the fact that I could barely see him. I froze when he smiled and lifted his hand in a tiny wave, forcing myself to wave back.

I was a grinning idiot, even when he forgot to pay attention to his own name and Vernon had to push him forward when his name was announced. He hastily waved towards the crowd, though I could have sworn his eyes were still on me.

The team went into a quick huddle, whispering among each other for a few seconds, then chanting the school mascot until the entire crowd took it up and the noise was deafening. I had always been curious about what they said in those huddles and finally remembered to ask a few weeks ago.

“Usually it’s just, like, ‘let’s get this done,’ or repeating something coach said about the other team,” he said. “But every once in a while it’s something dumb.”

“Like what?”

“Like jokes and bets between us,” he said, taking a sudden interest in the forks at the restaurant. We had gone out to eat after they lost their first game of the season.

“What was it today?”

He shrugged, shoving the food on his plate around. “Nothing interesting.”

As soon as the referee blew the whistle everyone was moving. It might look like chaos, but I’d seen enough soccer to know that it was an organized dance, how, much like all sports, there were patterns that were followed. My eyes followed Chan as he jogged ahead, waiting for someone to pass him the ball. Our team had taken control of the ball first, one of the seniors, Joshua, dodging around their defense before passing the ball across the field to Jun, the left forward.

Chan was in a good spot to score, the defense mostly focused on Jun, all he had to do was get the ball to him. I could feel the tension building, not just on the field, but in the crowd, as Jun dodged them again and again, then suddenly kicked the ball straight across the field. It looked like the ball wasn’t going anywhere, sliding across the fake grass without anyone from either team to stop it. And then Chan was there. Even I had lost him while watching Jun and the ball. He seemed to have come out of nowhere, kicking the ball as hard as he could before any of the defenders could react, sending it soaring up, the goalie reaching in vain, the ball soaring just over his hands and into the top corner of the goal.

The crowd erupted into cheers, myself the loudest of them all. Chan sprinted back to the home side of the field, grinning like an idiot. He ran past where I stood on the fence line and I could have sworn he winked at me. The rest of the team half tackled him as if he’d scored the game winning goal, chanting, “Dino! Dino! Dino!”

I frowned. Where had they learned that? As far as I knew, I was the only one to ever call him that. I supposed it wasn’t a big deal that other people called him by that name, but it still felt strange. I didn’t like that something that was ours was suddenly shared.

The referee blew his whistle and they finally reorganized themselves. Scoring a goal so early on could be dangerous, encouraging them to relax and let their defenses down. As they spread out on the field, I didn’t notice any of that. Chan was focused from the second the referee blew his whistle and the game play started again. I glanced at the team, and they all seemed equally intense.

I tried to think of why they were so focused. Were they playing a rival? The other team was good and a win would count toward their conference ranking, but it wasn’t anyone I thought warranted this level of focus. Maybe they were still upset that they lost the game last week, though they’d swept the tournament they played this past weekend.

The rest of the first half was uneventful, neither team able to score. Chan and Minghao, another forward, both came close but the balls were stopped by the other team’s goalie. Jihoon, our own goalie, only had to stop one ball. Everything else was stopped by what we affectionately called the Great Wall. Mingyu and Seungcheol were the main defenders, and were famous in our region for rarely letting a ball through our defense.

After the quick break, the teams returned to the field, switching sides. Now Chan would be closer to my side, running most of the offense almost in front of me. As soon as the whistle was blown he was moving, running right past me. I was probably imagining the smell of his detergent as he passed me by.

About half an hour in, I thought they might be able to score, but Chan lost the ball to one of their defenders and it was sent halfway across the field to their midfielders. Seungcheol and Mingyu did a good job, but even they weren’t quite able to stop the other team from pushing them down the field, closer to our goal. I held my breath as their forward got a good kick on the ball.

People tended to underestimate our goalie because he was pretty short. They didn’t know how quickly Jihoon could move, how good he was at anticipating where the ball would be kicked. I wondered if he was consciously aware of what he was seeing or if it was all instinct now. He made snagging the ball out of the air look easy, hanging on to it until the outfielders were back on the other side of the field.

Chan passed by me again as Jihoon threw the ball across the field, staying just in front of the defenders. They passed the ball around, not able to get past the defense, but also not giving up possession. Five minutes passed, then ten, and still neither team scored. We were still up by one, but as the time ticked down, the other team grew more desperate.

At 4 minutes and 47 seconds, they pushed through the defense. One of their forwards swung his foot back to kick the ball but turned slightly at the last second, slamming his foot into Mingyu’s shin. The taller boy dropped to the ground, but no whistle was blown, and the forward got a shot off. Jihoon couldn’t quite get to the ball and it just barely made it in.

1-1

While Seungcheol, the captain, and the coach shouted at the referee at the blatant foul that wasn’t called, the rest of the team regrouped. Mingyu had gotten up after a couple seconds, and from where I was looking he looked fine, though clearly mad. The referee gave Seungcheol a yellow card and he finally backed down, and our coach called a time out.

The crowd began the usual chants, though there was more passion after the horrible calls. When I was in the stands, I was normally screaming along with them, sometimes even leading them. I didn’t have any energy tonight to join in.

The time out wasn’t nearly long enough to cool them down. I could tell by the way they stalked back out onto the field that most of them were still mad, and I couldn’t blame them. The second the referee blew the whistle they were on the attack, sending the ball down the field recklessly fast. Chan was moving better than I’d ever seen before, anticipating where the defense would be and dodging before they even moved into position. The ball was passed to him quickly, though he immediately shot it off to one of the midfielders.

The lower the time got, the more desperate each team was. We somehow still held control of the ball for two full minutes, still unable to get a shot off.

At 2 minutes and 13 seconds, Chan had the ball again. He was moving like everyone else was stuck in quicksand, dodging the defenders and driving a path towards the goal. I could feel that he was going to get past them, going to score, and then he found and opening, swinging his foot back and-

And he got slammed to the ground by one of their defenders. This time the referee couldn’t ignore it, blowing his whistle. I was pretty sure there was about to be a fight, but I couldn’t look away from Chan, who was still on the ground. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I waited for him to get up, for him to move. He was only a few feet away from me. The idiotic part of me wanted to hop the fence and jump onto the field but what would I do? Yell at him until he woke up?

His back was to me and the longer he went without moving the more scared I got. Had he hit his head? Was something broken? I desperately wanted him to do something to at least show he was still alive.

Jun and Minghao, the other forwards, got to him first, kneeling next to him until the trainer finally reached him. I was vaguely aware of Mingyu and Seungkwan holding Seungcheol back as he yelled at the other team, but I couldn’t look away from Chan. From my angle, I could only see him reach his arm out, but I felt like I could finally breathe again. He was alive, at least.

The trainer spoke to him for a minute or two, then apparently decided he could be moved. Jun and Minghao helped him up and half carried him off the field, setting him on the table the trainer had set up to treat the athletes. It was foolish, but all I wanted to do was run over there, to see with my own eyes that he was okay.

After another time out, this time by the other team, the game started again. I couldn’t pay attention to anything, only watching Chan from across the field as the trainer made him go through yet more exercises, finally gesturing for him to follow her to the athletics building. I tried to decide if that was a good thing or not. It meant that he was well enough to walk on his own, but what did she need in the building? Did he need specialized treatment?

I had given up on paying attention to the match. The second half ended with the score still tied but all I could think of was Chan, suffering alone.

“Screw it,” I muttered. I pushed off the fence, walking towards the building with long strides. I’d been there more than a few times with Chan while we were hanging out before practice, sometimes wandering the building but often while he got treatment in the trainer’s office. Sometimes it felt like I was around Chan so much that I might as well be a part of the team.

I knew exactly where the office was. A week ago I wouldn’t have been nervous making this trip. I probably wouldn’t have left the stands at such an intense match, though I might have been a little worried. Everything had changed so quickly. I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins as if I had been the one on the field playing.

I got to the trainer’s office and froze. Normally I would walk in without a thought to it, but I was suddenly not sure of anything. What if he just wanted to be alone? Or what if he didn’t want me there?

I decided I would at least rather see that he was alive. I knocked once then opened the door.

“Yn,” the trainer said with a warm smile. She’d been so happy when I told her I was interested in athletic medicine, inviting me to come with Chan whenever I wanted. The whole summer she’d been hinting at a relationship between me and Chan, despite both of our protests.

I waved, looking for Chan. He was laying on one of the tables on his stomach shirtless, wires hooked up to something on his back covered by ice packs, his eyes closed, looking like he was asleep.

“Is he okay?” I asked softly.

“Oh he’s fine,” she answered. “And he’s not sleeping, I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.” His eyes flicked open and he glared at her.

“Well, I need to see if anyone else decided to get hurt while you get pampered,” she said. “I’ll be back in like five minutes, so just don’t die.” Chan gave her a thumbs up and she was gone.

I pulled a chair next to his table, leaning against the side. Chan’s arm only a few inches away from mine.

“Did we win?” He asked before I had a chance to say anything.

“That’s seriously all you want to know? You’re not even going to tell me if you’re okay?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” I said, “I have no idea, it went into overtime so I came here.” He was silent. “Are you okay?“ I asked again.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I got the wind knocked the fuck out of me. Seriously, I’ve been hit before but that hurt. You need to check my chest for shoulder marks later.”

My cheeks flushed at the thought of being in front of him while he was shirtless, and I was happy his face was pressed into the leather cushion. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but thinking about it now…

“What’s this?” I asked, brushing my fingers lightly on the wires, trying not to think about brushing them against the bare skin of his back.

“Stim,” he said. “My back was sore from getting knocked into the ground by that asshole and I just thought it would feel nice.” He turned his head at an awkward angle so that he could look at me. I could only meet his gaze for a few seconds before I looked away.

“Do you think it’s over yet?” He asked, breaking the silence that lasted for nearly a minute.

“You could have gotten seriously hurt and you’re still more worried about the game? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Hey I am concussion free!” Chan said. “She did the test and everything. I just- I want to know if we won or not! It’s important that we don’t lose to assholes that body slam people!”

He was right, but I had known Chan for too long. He was lying.

“Besides, since when have you been worried about me?” He turned so that he could see me. “When I almost broke my wrist two years ago you said you would rather die than miss the end of the game.”

“That was playoffs!”

“We were up by four goals!”

I opened my mouth to argue back, but he was right. I was different now. I just didn’t have the guts to tell him why.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m not always the best friend to you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Chan said immediately, brushing his hand against mine. He looked so uncomfortable trying to face me while laying flat on his stomach. I slipped out of the chair, sitting on the floor in front of the table so that he could look straight at me, trying not to think about how he almost held on to my hand.

We stayed like that for a moment, Chan staring into my eyes and me staring right back. In the end I couldn’t take his gaze, looking down at the tile floor and realizing the pattern was really fascinating, even if it was clearly from 1990.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said. “I’m not upset about something from two years ago. I just… I want to tell you something but I don’t know if it’s right and they said I should do it when it’s right but I have no idea what that means, and then they said that maybe it wouldn’t ever be right, so I just… I don’t know.”

I could feel all of my courage crumbling as I looked back at him, dark eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. I felt like he could see right through me.

“Chan…” I said. “You’re my best friend. I’ve known you for so long I don’t think I know who I am without you, and I think that’s what really scares me. You’re like this weird carrot that’s grown next to my carrot and we’ve coiled around each other and they exist on their own as separate carrots, but if they aren’t together, it just looks lonely.”

I peeked at Chan and he was frowning. Not my best metaphor. “I’m trying to say that I don’t like who I am without you. You mean everything to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” he said slowly.

I groaned. “You’re not getting it! I’m trying to tell you that I like you, Chan!”

He quiet for a moment. “Yn, did you just confess to me while I’m laying on a table after being knocked out?”

“When you put it like that…” I stared at my hands. So that’s what I felt like to ruin everything.

“Yn.”

I wondered if I could successfully vanish, maybe start a new life raising sheep in Mongolia.

“Hey,” Chan said, reaching his hand out to brush against my cheek. “You’re an idiot.”

“I feel so much better,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “Thank you for that.”

“Please look me in the eyes for this,” Chan said. As much as I wanted to dig a hole and rot away in it, I couldn’t deny him this, especially not when he was using such a gentle yet firm tone. I forced myself to meet his eyes, finding comfort in the familiarity, even if I knew everything had changed and it was my fault.

“I have been trying to tell you I like you for months and you do it in pretty much the least romantic way possible,” he said. “Seriously, there are electrical impulses being shot down my back.”

“I take it back, I feel nothing,” I said, standing up.

He laughed, that stupid, infectious laugh that never failed to make me smile, reaching out and catching my hand. “Can you give me like five seconds to at least be sitting upright?”

I nodded, still facing the door so that he couldn’t see my smile.

“I might need some help, actually,” Chan said after a moment. “This stuff is kinda stuck to my back.”

I turned to him, taking in the situation. He’d gotten the ice packs off but the pads for stim were stuck to his back. This wasn’t the first time I’d helped him with stim, in fact I’d done it for half the team (albeit usually on their knees or shoulders). Helping Chan now, my cheeks were probably bright red, fingers tingling every time they brushed against his skin. The four pads came off easily and I stuck them back onto the plastic they normally were stuck to, turning off the machine and putting everything back where it should be. When I turned around, Chan was sitting up rolling his shoulders back. If my face wasn’t already a tomato it was now. Chan laughed as I looked anywhere but at him.

“You’re not going to check for shoulder marks?” He asked. He was probably batting his eyes and pretending to be innocent.

I glanced him over, trying hard to force my eyes past his bare chest, then tossed his shirt at him. “Shoulder mark free.”

“Are you sure, because you didn’t look very hard and-”

“Oh my god, Chan, just put on the shirt!”

He laughed, pulling it over his head. “You’re so easy to tease.” He caught my hands when I tried to step away again, gently tugging on them so that I was facing him while he still sat on the table.

“Yn,” he said softly, running his thumbs over my knuckles. “I had a whole plan of how I was going to tell you how I felt. We’d go to that cafe, or sometimes I planned it for the library, and once I even planned to try to tell you on the field. None of them worked because every time I saw you I couldn’t figure out a way to get the words in my heart out so that you could hear them.” He held my gaze and I knew he wasn’t lying. I hadn’t lasted a week with these feelings. How had Chan been able to stand it?

“I really, really like you,” Chan said. “And I-”

The door was slammed open and all of a sudden the room was filled with noise. I let go of one of his hands as half the team came streaming in. With the hand he still held, Chan pulled me closer to him until I was shoulder to shoulder with him, lacing his fingers with mine.

“Chan you’re alive!” Seokmin shouted.

“Yeah I was going to go to the light but I remembered you guys are hopeless without me.”

“Hopeless?” Soonyoung laughed. “Just for that I’m not telling you who won.”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to me and Chan.

“Hey!” Seokmin shouted. “That’s cheating!”

“What’s going on?” I whispered in Chan’s ear.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered back, then said to everyone, “I appreciate your concern for my love life, but seriously, did we win or not?”

Seungcheol leaned against the counter with a smug smile. “You think we’d let a team like that win?”

Chan grinned, turning to me. I hoped he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was beating when he turned his gaze on me like that. “Yn, will you go on a date with me?”

I forgot about the team who were hollering around us, forgot about the game, forgot about everything except me and Chan. “Of course.”

Chan only let go of my hand once as we walked back to the apartment, and it was only to let me put on his sweatshirt. As soon as I pulled my arms through the sleeves, his hand was back in mine. It should have felt weird to be this intimate after a lifetime of friendship. It felt like we should have been like this from the beginning.

“You’re sure you feel the same way?“ Chan asked.

“If you ask me one more time I’m going to change my mind,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I had resigned myself to being your b-f ‘best friend,’ not b-f ‘boyfriend.’”

“First of all, Seungkwan is my best friend,” I said.

“Um, wrong, I’ve known you for longer.”

“That’s not the point but I have a feeling you’re going to win this one so I’m just going to give up now.” I turned to look him in the eyes. “But seriously, how long have you liked me? And don’t you dare say from the moment I met you or some bullshit because I know that’s not true.”

“No, I’m not that dramatic. I think the moment I realized it was at graduation.” He smiled at the memory, pausing on the sidewalk.

“Do you remember how we went straight from the ceremony to the beach and that first night we stayed up all night talking about the future and we watched the sunrise over the water?” He waited for my nod. “I remember listening to you talk about your life plans and realizing how lucky I am to know you, and then realizing that I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.

“Do you know how magical you looked watching the sunrise? I know it’s the cheesiest line ever, but you really were prettier than the sunrise and ever since then I haven’t been able to think of anyone but you.” Chan smiled and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then suddenly felt shy, turning and continuing to walk. Chan didn’t move until I was tugging on his hand.

“Your turn,” he said after a few moments passed and the heat in my cheeks had finally died down. “When did you realize?”

“Last week,” I said. “Right before you left for the tournament you asked for a kiss goodbye, and I thought it was just a joke but then I spent all weekend thinking about your lips and about how that’s definitely not best friend thoughts, and then I started thinking about you and then I realized that for everything in my life I go to you, and you are the only person in the world who knows how to make me smile when I am having a horrible day, and you don’t complain when I’m being mean or grumpy, and you are the only person I could ever see myself spending the rest of my life with.

“I know it’s not as romantic as watching the sunrise with you and maybe you think these five days aren’t long enough to feel anything as strong as you, but, Chan, I swear I know my heart and you are the only one in it, and the only one that will ever be in it.” It was terrifying to say these things out loud, but I turned to Chan and he had the biggest smile on his face.

He stepped closer to me until there were only a few inches between us, bringing one hand to my cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He asked so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he leaned closer, nose brushing against mine, and it was not a gentle kiss like mine had been. His hand slid to the back of my head, the other one finally letting go and slipping to hold my waist. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, pulling him as close as I could.

Chan pulled away first, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. “Feedback?”

I laughed, burying my head in his chest. ‘Feedback’ was always for class presentations, or how I thought he did in his last game. “Only if you tell me why your team calls you Dino.”

I disentangled myself from his arms, lacing our fingers back together and beginning to walk again.

“You better not be mad about that because it’s your fault,” he said, catching up to me easily. “Seokmin and Soonyoung saw you spamming me with those dinosaur stickers while we were at an away game and I had to explain to them that you made the nickname when we were six and already a cruel monster.”

“It’s not my fault you cried unless you brought your stuffie to school with you.”

“Don’t you dare tell them that part!” He said. “They’ll never let it go, it’s bad enough I have Seungkwan holding it over me.”

I laughed. “You haven’t explained what was going on in the training room either, by the way.”

“Right.” I glanced at him and he avoided my eyes.

“What is it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” he whined.

“More embarrassing than getting dumped fifteen minutes after the relationship started?”

“You wouldn’t,” Chan said and he was right, but it still worked because he let out a dramatic sigh and kept walking. “Do you remember last week after we lost and we went out to eat and you asked me about what we say in the pregame huddles?” He waited until I nodded to continue. “Well, apparently my crush was obvious to everyone other than you and Seokmin and Soonyoung specifically were determined to ‘help’ me confess so they thought it would be funny to say ‘when we win Chan has to tell yn how he feels,’ but then we lost and someone said that maybe we just weren’t meant to be and it was a joke, but I’ve been overthinking it since then.

“Then today, Seungcheol said it, and I think it was supposed to be a joke but everyone took it really seriously and I don’t know, I really felt like if we didn’t win today then maybe we really wouldn’t ever work out.

“But then you showed up and confessed to me in the least romantic way possible and I realized how dumb I was,” Chan said, grinning.

“You’re kind of an idiot,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning into me.

“You’re ridiculous.” I tried unsuccessfully to hide my smile.

He snuck closer, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him. I couldn’t think of any more insults to throw at him, so I leaned into him.

“So, are you going to give me feedback on my kissing or not?”

“I’m not sure, I think I need to try again before forming an opinion.”

Chan laughed, turning to face me with a smile that could break hearts. “You better pay attention this time.” He kissed me and I was floating.

When I finally pushed back, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Two out of ten, honestly, I’m disappointed, I thought you could do better than this,” I said, pushing his arms off of me before I could react and sprinting away.

“Hey!” He shouted. “I’m still handicapped! I got knocked out today!” Despite his protests, he caught up to me easily, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Want to try again?”

“Hm, nope,” I said, giggling when he wrapped his arms even tighter.

“You are so lucky I love you,” he said, pressing another kiss on my cheek. I wondered if he noticed that he let the word slip. I settled my hands on his arms, holding him to me just as tightly as he was. There was a gentle breeze in the air, the streetlights warm and cozy, and I decided I would spend the rest of my life like this, me and Chan, together.

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #dino #lee chan #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt reader #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #soccer boys!#chan x reader #dino fluff #chan fluff

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starstuddeddsky · 2 years

Text

Shall We?

gn reader x chan

summary: having a crush on your best friend made everything more complicated. would you be able to tell him how you felt, or will you be stuck in this limbo forever?

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, university au, sports au, non idol au

warnings: none, inaccurate soccer, both main characters are dumb?

wc: 6.3k

title: Shall We? - CHEN

“Are you finished yet?”

Seungkwan laughed. “All I’m saying is that I have been saying that you have been in love with him for years.”

“I take offense to that.”

Seungkwan patted me on the back. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

“I have been friends with Chan my entire life,” I said, raising myself from the cushion. “I think it’s worth being dramatic over.”

“What if it were me? And we were fighting and you were worried we would never be friends again?”

“Ew, gross,” I said automatically. “No offense, but I’d be glad to be rid of you.”

“No one,” I mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.” Seungkwan sounded smug. “Now, I’m going to assume confessing is out of the question?”

“Don’t even joke about it,” I hugged the pillow against my chest.

Seungkwan whipped his phone out, snapping a picture. “Sorry, I’ve literally never seen you this vulnerable, and I’m going to need blackmail at some point.”

“You are the worst, I gave you the best blackmail in the world, do you really need a picture, too?”

“Oh, yn, I can never have enough blackmail.” Not for the first time, I was scared of Seungkwan.

“Can’t you just give me advice?” I asked. “Weren’t you known for being the love doctor or whatever in high school?”

“You’re worthless,” I said, sliding onto the floor.

“Wow, I was just about to offer you food as compensation,” Seungkwan sighed.

“Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend in the entire world?”

It technically wasn’t a lie, but all I did was I sit in my dorm, staring at the door, watching the seconds pass by one at a time. I wondered if he would even notice if I wasn’t there.

“Don’t you have to go?” My roommate asked. “The game starts in like five minutes.”

When I didn’t answer, she said, “You’re usually at every game like half an hour early. Is everything okay?”

I shrugged. “I’m that predictable?”

She smiled. “Did you and Chan fight?”

“No, nothing like that!” I paused. “Wait, why did you ask about Chan?”

“You’re going to be late,” she said, turning back to her desk.

I was torn between questioning exactly why she thought something happened between me and Chan or going to the game. I decided going to the game would at least involve less conflict.

“Usually it’s just, like, ‘let’s get this done,’ or repeating something coach said about the other team,” he said. “But every once in a while it’s something dumb.”

“Like what?”

“Like jokes and bets between us,” he said, taking a sudden interest in the forks at the restaurant. We had gone out to eat after they lost their first game of the season.

“What was it today?”

He shrugged, shoving the food on his plate around. “Nothing interesting.”

1-1

The lower the time got, the more desperate each team was. We somehow still held control of the ball for two full minutes, still unable to get a shot off.

I had given up on paying attention to the match. The second half ended with the score still tied but all I could think of was Chan, suffering alone.

I decided I would at least rather see that he was alive. I knocked once then opened the door.

I waved, looking for Chan. He was laying on one of the tables on his stomach shirtless, wires hooked up to something on his back covered by ice packs, his eyes closed, looking like he was asleep.

“Is he okay?” I asked softly.

“Oh he’s fine,” she answered. “And he’s not sleeping, I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.” His eyes flicked open and he glared at her.

I pulled a chair next to his table, leaning against the side. Chan’s arm only a few inches away from mine.

“Did we win?” He asked before I had a chance to say anything.

“That’s seriously all you want to know? You’re not even going to tell me if you’re okay?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” I said, “I have no idea, it went into overtime so I came here.” He was silent. “Are you okay?“ I asked again.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I got the wind knocked the fuck out of me. Seriously, I’ve been hit before but that hurt. You need to check my chest for shoulder marks later.”

“What’s this?” I asked, brushing my fingers lightly on the wires, trying not to think about brushing them against the bare skin of his back.

“Do you think it’s over yet?” He asked, breaking the silence that lasted for nearly a minute.

“You could have gotten seriously hurt and you’re still more worried about the game? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Hey I am concussion free!” Chan said. “She did the test and everything. I just- I want to know if we won or not! It’s important that we don’t lose to assholes that body slam people!”

He was right, but I had known Chan for too long. He was lying.

“That was playoffs!”

“We were up by four goals!”

I opened my mouth to argue back, but he was right. I was different now. I just didn’t have the guts to tell him why.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m not always the best friend to you.”

I could feel all of my courage crumbling as I looked back at him, dark eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. I felt like he could see right through me.

I peeked at Chan and he was frowning. Not my best metaphor. “I’m trying to say that I don’t like who I am without you. You mean everything to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” he said slowly.

I groaned. “You’re not getting it! I’m trying to tell you that I like you, Chan!”

He quiet for a moment. “Yn, did you just confess to me while I’m laying on a table after being knocked out?”

“When you put it like that…” I stared at my hands. So that’s what I felt like to ruin everything.

“Yn.”

I wondered if I could successfully vanish, maybe start a new life raising sheep in Mongolia.

“Hey,” Chan said, reaching his hand out to brush against my cheek. “You’re an idiot.”

“I feel so much better,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “Thank you for that.”

“I take it back, I feel nothing,” I said, standing up.

He laughed, that stupid, infectious laugh that never failed to make me smile, reaching out and catching my hand. “Can you give me like five seconds to at least be sitting upright?”

I nodded, still facing the door so that he couldn’t see my smile.

“I might need some help, actually,” Chan said after a moment. “This stuff is kinda stuck to my back.”

“You’re not going to check for shoulder marks?” He asked. He was probably batting his eyes and pretending to be innocent.

I glanced him over, trying hard to force my eyes past his bare chest, then tossed his shirt at him. “Shoulder mark free.”

“Are you sure, because you didn’t look very hard and-”

“Oh my god, Chan, just put on the shirt!”

“Yn,” he said softly, running his thumbs over my knuckles. “I had a whole plan of how I was going to tell you how I felt. We’d go to that cafe, or sometimes I planned it for the library, and once I even planned to try to tell you on the field. None of them worked because every time I saw you I couldn't figure out a way to get the words in my heart out so that you could hear them.” He held my gaze and I knew he wasn’t lying. I hadn’t lasted a week with these feelings. How had Chan been able to stand it?