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tonicandjins · 2 years

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owtft: just me, just you

characters: wonwoo/reader

chapter summary: The only people you ever dated was Kim Mingyu from high school (and it was only because he was a rising actor and you thought celebrities were cool. Kim Mingyu was the exact opposite of cool.) and Lee Donghyuck for literally two days because you learned that he lied about being the same age. You never mentioned a Josh. And now that he thinks about it, you never mentioned ever dating in New York for six damn years.

words: 3600+

disclaimer: names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. i do not claim to own or to have invented any copyrighted characters or concepts that i write about.

taglist: @svtreverie @just-here-to-read-01

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

There are certain guidelines, rules if Wonwoo could describe it, when it comes to his friendship with you. Stupid made-up rules, Jeonghan would say, but rules nonetheless.

The first rule is to always keep your hands warm, even though Wonwoo, himself, is always quivering as soon as the temperature hits 21 degrees.

You take the hot pack happily from Wonwoo’s hands as soon as he takes them out the pocket of his coat, your hands pressing the pack in between and Wonwoo could only watch in awe at how your nose is now covered with blush. He makes a quick note of making sure to send a quick text to your helper to ensure that the floor from your home is all warmed up. When you’re ready and have hugged Jeonghan long enough, Wonwoo offers to push your luggage cart towards the exit. You happily agree, and Wonwoo is taken aback when you walk with him, your arm finds its way looped into his, pulling him closer and essentially warming up his chest.

“I should be used to this,” you say when the three of you walk, Jeonghan taking the lead. “I mean, New York is stupidly cold, too. But Korea’s is honestly worse. It’s not even officially winter yet.”

“The papers say the first snow is expected to fall in a couple of weeks,” Wonwoo comments randomly, remembering what he read from the newspaper earlier today.

“As expected,” you hum, tone teasing. “Only Jeon Wonwoo reads the paper for news these days.”

Wonwoo smiles. “If you read more, you would have more knowledge in that empty brain of yours. What a waste of skull.”

Laughing, you smack his forearm, to which Wonwoo feigns his pain. “Excuse me, Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, but I just finished my MBA with flying colors.”

“MBA is only supposed to last for two years. You took yours for four,” Wonwoo retorts.

“It’s because I was going back and forth with my art gallery!” you reply, defensive. Jeonghan laughs, and Wonwoo kisses the top of your head, reminding you that he’s only joking.

“Speaking of,” Jeonghan butts in, pausing his tracks so he could walk the same pace as you and Wonwoo. “Do you plan on taking the gallery to Seoul?”

“Hell no,” you reply all too quickly, eyebrows furrowed, as though it’s the most ridiculous idea ever.

“Let me take that,” Jeonghan interjects, taking the cart from Wonwoo’s palms, pushing it. Wonwoo takes the opportunity to hold hands with you, smiling before kissing the back of your hand. The three of your make your way out of the airport, with you and Wonwoo leading the way to his car.

“It’s not the best idea,” you continue, Wonwoo letting go of your hand so he can help Jeonghan put your luggage in the trunk. “In the US, mom and dad sponsored the whole thing. Luckily, everyone in New York City is a junkie for art no matter who the artist is, so it worked and I gained a little profit out of it. Here in Seoul, I’m not so sure.”

“You were in the papers last year,” Wonwoo points out, placing the last bag in the trunk before closing it shut. “You wouldn’t know, because you don’t read.”

“That doesn’t guarantee that enough people would know my name or if anyone would be interested enough to buy tickets,” you mumble.

Jeonghan immediately opens the door to the backseat, knowing full well that the passenger’s seat in Wonwoo’s car (whichever car he decides to use, at least) has always had your name in it. The older one watches as Wonwoo gently places his palm on top of your head when he helps you enter the car and sit on the passenger’s seat. He gives him a funny look from the backseat, and Wonwoo pretends as if he doesn’t see him.

“Besides,” you continue. “I don’t really want mom or dad to spend any more money on me. This is exactly why I’m back home.”

Jeonghan hums in response as Wonwoo closes the door and jogs around to settle himself on the driver’s seat. Wonwoo starts the ignition, and his heart somersaults when you lean over to kiss him on the cheek, mumbling a thank you for keeping you warm. He nervously watches Jeonghan smirking from the rearview mirror.

“So, what are your plans?” Jeonghan asks as Wonwoo starts to drive.

You hum, breathing out. Ah, that sigh, Wonwoo thinks. The infamous sigh of uncertainty.

“Well,” you start, looking over. Wonwoo reminds himself not to look at you and focus on the road. “I plan to work for Jeon Co and Ltd until I save up enough money to build my own gallery.”

“You say it like you cannot afford it,” Jeonghan laughs.

“My parents can,” you correct. “Not me.”

“When are you starting?” Jeonghan asks.

Jeonghan also works for Jeon Co and Ltd. Wonwoo’s and Jeonghan’s parents are cousins, and you could say that all three of you alongside many of Wonwoo’s cousins already grew up together. Jeonghan works as the director of Operations, while Wonwoo works as the Chief Operating Officer, directly working for his father.

Another sigh leaves your lips. Wonwoo recognizes it as the sigh of silliness.

“Oh, I don’t know, Hannie,” you say, pouting, head turned towards Wonwoo. “I’m not sure if the COO would hire me.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “It’s the Human Resources people that you should be worried about.”

“Hey, I have an MBA,” you reply, a proud smile adorning your beautiful face.

“You failed Algebra,” Wonwoo reminds you. “Twice.”

“Wonwoo!” you gasp. “Jeonghan doesn’t know that!”

Jeonghan only laughs from the backseat.

Wonwoo and Jeonghan take you to your parents’ house, the former promising to come sleepover tonight as soon as he’s done with work, and they leave as soon as you’re settled and all warmed up. The two return to work and finishes up the day, but all Wonwoo could really think about it coming home to you after all the meetings he had to postpone so he could come pick you up at the airport.

You send him a text message in the middle of a meeting with a partner company, telling him that he owes you tteokbokki and fishcake for leaving you all alone at home. He reminds you to catch up with your helpers because everyone in Seoul had missed you immensely. His chest warms up when you send him a selfie with your long-time helper, Auntie Junghwa, your cheeks pressed against Auntie Junghwa’s cheek, your eyes squinting, and Wonwoo wonders if your cheeks ever hurt from smiling so beautifully all the damn time. But then again, he thinks, smiling warmly has always been so natural for you, and Wonwoo would spend the rest of his life making sure you’re always smiling happily.

When the meetings are done, Wonwoo’s secretary reminds him that it’s twenty minutes past seven, telling him he hasn’t touched the dinner she had prepared for him an hour ago and it has gone cold. Wonwoo apologizes like the polite man he is, and thanks her, assuring her that he will have dinner as soon as he gets home. The woman looks distressed, probably from all the hours of working today, and Wonwoo makes a mental reminder to buy her flowers the next day and purchase a gift card from Louis Vuitton for her.

His secretary has been working for the company for a long time. Mrs. Lee previously worked as his father’s secretary for over 15 years, hence it’s also safe to say that she watched him grow up. Wonwoo vividly remembers middle-school you and him waiting outside his father’s office while your parents were in a meeting; Mrs. Lee would always make sure that you and him were entertained until your parents were done. When Wonwoo got the position of COO as soon as he finished his MBA, his only request was to have Mrs. Lee as his secretary. His father gladly granted that, knowing full well that anyone would work more effectively with Mrs. Lee on their side.

When all is settled and done, Wonwoo leads the way to the elevator with Mrs. Lee trailing behind her. The two make their way to the parking floor.

“How’s Y/N?” Mrs. Lee asks. “I have not seen that lady in two years. The last time was when she visited you on your first day as COO.”

Wonwoo smiles at the memory.

(Wonwoo remembers that he had been ecstatic, all too delighted to have his own office, after two years of sharing an office with another manager like him.

The day had been so exhausting, knowing how easily Wonwoo’s social battery runs and drains, but he couldn’t be more grateful. There were so many people at Jeon and Co. Ltd’s annual party, which is also the day his father decided to announce Wonwoo’s promotion. The previous COO had retired, and everyone knew there was no better person to replace him than the heir of the company himself. Wonwoo was, of course, well aware of the privilege of being the son of the CEO himself, but that never meant that he did not work hard to earn this opportunity to be appointed as the COO. In most fairytales, positions like this are handed in a silver platter, but Wonwoo’s father, growing up from the slums and making his way through the success that started with a dream, with no inheritance or privilege, had always been so transparent about making Wonwoo earn the position. Hence, Wonwoo, who had always looked up to his father and had always told everyone that his father was his hero, worked hard to earn it. Unlike most heirs, as early as his education in high school, Wonwoo studied hard. His grades were beyond what was expected of him, and he even got included to the list of the famous top 1% in the entirety of South Korea. As soon as he got his degree, he decided he wanted to be involved with the business as early as then, which is why he worked as a manager for a couple of years while taking his MBA.

Wonwoo would say the day could be the happiest day of his life, but you hadn’t been there.

While he sat on his own executive ergonomic office chair that he chose himself, he thought about you on the other side of the world. It was around 8 in the evening, and the noise had died down an hour ago when everyone left as the conclusion of the entire afternoon of celebrating. Wonwoo had known it was maybe 6 in the morning where you are and he had reminded himself to call you as soon as it was safe to say you’ve woken up. But of course, as someone who gives Wonwoo a heart attack anytime he doesn’t expect it, you had entered his nearly empty office. Wonwoo had almost fallen out of his seat.

There you were, just as he was thinking about you, wrapped in a dark coat, hair a little messy, looking like you’re out of breath. Your hands carried a present, a canvas wrapped in black and white paper.

“I’m sorry,” you had said, catching your breath; Wonwoo was already walking towards you, knees shaking. “My flight had been delayed for a few of hours. I swear, I wanted to be here before lunch but—”

But Wonwoo had already taken the gift from your hands, carefully placing it on the coffee table nearby, engulfing your frame in a tight, warm hug, closing his eyes, praying that it wasn’t a dream.

“Congratulations,” you had mumbled against his chest. Wonwoo had to remind himself to keep breathing, because he was losing it at that point. None of his senses were working well. All he knew was that you were there, with him, on the supposed happiest day of his life thus far, making it the happiest day of his life thus far.

“You’re here,” were the only words that Wonwoo could say. On a normal day, he would have been anxious about you possibly hearing how loud his heart beats, thumps, when you’re around, but in that moment—in the middle of his new office, Seoul’s busy streets having no idea that Jeon Wonwoo, the newly appointed COO of Jeon and Co. Ltd is at his happiest state—he couldn’t care less. You were welcome to listen to the beat of his heart, his arms around you, yours around his.

“Of course, you dummy,” you laughed, pulling away a little so you could look up at him, eyes glistening. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It's just, the timing of everything was just awful, I’m sorry I was late.”

“No, sweetheart,” Wonwoo had replied, shutting off the thoughts in your head because he knew well how much you hated disappointing anyone. “You’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

You had buried your face back to his chest, Wonwoo kissing the top of your head, and mumbled how much you’re proud of him.

“I love you,” you had mumbled.

Wonwoo didn’t need another second to say it back.

And now that he thinks about it, would it have been a bad idea to have kissed you that night?)

“She’s well, gained a little weight but don’t tell her I told you,” Wonwoo replies, chuckling. Mrs. Lee laughs.

Wonwoo smiles even wider, remembering that you told him earlier that you plan to eat your weight for the next month so you could hibernate the entire winter.

“She’ll visit on Monday,” he confirms. “She’ll find you when she comes.”

“I hope so,” Mrs. says. “How old are the two of you now?”

“Twenty-six,” Wonwoo answers.

“And when do you two plan to get married?” she asks, and Wonwoo’s taken aback. Mrs. Lee finds his reaction funny, his eyes wide, as if a secret has just been unveiled. “Oh, Wonwoo, honey, you cannot hide anything from me.”

“We’re, we’re not together like that,” he defends.

“At least not yet,” she adds. “Wonwoo, honey, you’re both twenty-six. Don’t you think it’s about time you tell our oblivious Y/N what you feel towards her?”

Wonwoo sighs. The elevator dings, telling them they have arrived at the basement, where the parking area is located.

“Mrs. Lee, it’s not that easy,” he answers as they step out. “If it were that easy, I would’ve confessed in second grade.”

The two walk together to find their own car, and of course, Wonwoo waits for Mrs. Lee to say something before they part ways. She always liked saying the last words in a conversation.

“You have shown it for many years now, Wonwoo,” she says. “The only thing you need to do now is to say it.”

“I’m sure she knows, Mrs. Lee,” Wonwoo replies.

“But has she ever heard it come out of your mouth, dear?” she asks. Wonwoo is silent. “Goodnight, dear. Go home safely.”

Then she drives away.

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

As promised, Wonwoo returns to your parents’ home with a bag of overnight essentials and tteokbokki and fishcake.

“You didn’t have to go out of your way for tteokbokki,” you pout when you take the plastic bag from his hands and settle them on your kitchen counter. “We could have gone tomorrow. And Jeon Wonwoo, why do you come home only at nine in the evening?”

Wonwoo’s nose scrunches, laughing at your nagging. “Meetings,” he answers and helps you take out the food from the plastic bags, settling himself on the stool from the island counter.

“Things has to change now that I’m home,” you announce, hopping so you could sit beside Wonwoo. “Less meetings. More me time.”

“The untouchable chaebol in you is oozing,” Wonwoo teases, breaking a pair of chopsticks for you. “How’s Seoul so far?”

“Cold.” As expected. “But I missed you.” Wonwoo ruffles your hair. “For a minute, I kind of forgot that you’re big time now, with your COO title and cool ass office and your unavailability because you’re literally the most in-demand person in Jeon and Co. Ltd. these days.”

Wonwoo watches you take the first bite from the famous rose tteokbokki, moaning in delight as soon as its taste hit your tongue. “Gosh, nothing in New York could top the tteokbokki down the street.”

“Right?” Wonwoo asks, smelling the food first before nibbling the simmered soft rice cake. You hum in agreement. “There’s a new restaurant nearby the office. Mrs. Lee bought lunch from that place a week ago and it was scrumptious, like literally no words at all.”

“Does the place look nice? Something I can post on my Instagram?” you ask, mouth full.

“I haven’t been there,” Wonwoo answers. “Let’s go there tomorrow. And all the other places I’ve discovered while you were gone.”

“You act as if I was gone for ten years,” you joke.

“You were gone for a long time,” he rebuts. “Long enough to miss new places to try. Did you know how hard it was to take Jeonghan? He makes me pay for everything. Am I even his dongsaeng?”

You laugh, taking a stick of skewered fish cake from the box.

It’s true, Wonwoo thinks. He loves Jeonghan and would die for him, but all he ever does is make Wonwoo pay, saying that the one who invites should be the one to pay. Wonwoo could say that your love language is most likely food, even though it’s not officially one of the five from the list he found on the internet when he was trying to learn more about love. (Of course, Wonwoo is the only one who would read to learn about love.) Your eyes have always sparkled differently when Wonwoo brings food for you, even when you two were little. You had always liked sharing food, even though Wonwoo is so annoyed by it if it were other people. Anyone could cut themselves in half, begging for him to share his food, and Wonwoo wouldn’t bat an eyelash, but with you, it had always been different. You were the exception to many things in his life.

During your absence, Wonwoo didn’t really have anyone to eat with. Everyone at work knows he likes his food delivered directly to his office, so nobody ever bothers to ask him to join for lunch. And Wonwoo would rather die first than ask anyone but you to eat with him. This, Jeonghan had always known, so the devil himself made sure that he’s available (around, lingering annoyingly and on purpose in Wonwoo’s office) when the clock hits 11:50am. It took weeks for this tactic to work, but eventually, Wonwoo gave in and started inviting Jeonghan out for lunch (dinner, too, sometimes) and the one older always makes him pay. And imagine almost four years of that. Wonwoo reckons he could build a house with the amount of money he has spent on Jeonghan’s food alone.

You were away (away, never gone) for more than six years, having only to visit on some holidays, but not every year, not even on Chuseok, yours and his favorite holiday. When you moved to the States, your parents had also followed after you. It was a great opportunity for the company to expand the business in the mainland, anyway, and nobody wanted to pass up on that. Sometimes, Wonwoo would visit you, but with how hectic his own schedule was, he had only done that twice. (You took him to Central Park, and Wonwoo remembers taking so many pictures of you while thinking about every rom-com film set in New York and hoping you and him could have a cheesy, happy ending in the city, too.)

Absence make the heart grow fond, people would say, but Wonwoo had always known that he didn’t need you to be away to realize his own feelings.

Wonwoo wonders how was it for you, being away from him and all.

“Oh, Jeonghan is so going to like Josh.”

That’s not an answer Wonwoo expected.

“Josh?” he asks.

Have you ever mentioned a Josh?

Wonwoo’s mind traces the conversations you had with him over the phone. He might have missed it; you might haven mentioned it at three in the morning in Seoul, when Wonwoo’s mind is all groggy and cloudy from slumbler. But Wonwoo swears he would have remembered it the next day regardless. Josh? Doesn’t ring a fucking bell. Wonwoo’s going to get a heart attack.

“Yeah, I haven’t told you, have I?” Obviously. And you’re way to chirpy to talk about a Josh that Wonwoo has never heard of. “He was my senior in college. We took our MBA together. Tried to date for like two weeks. Broke it off because I realized—”

“Dated?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrows. The only people you ever dated was Kim Mingyu from high school (and it was only because he was a rising actor and you thought celebrities were cool. Kim Mingyu was the exact opposite of cool.) and Lee Donghyuck for literally two days because you learned that he lied about being the same age. You never mentioned a Josh. And now that he thinks about it, you never mentioned ever dating in New York for six damn years. The thought makes the screws in his brain spin faster, overthinking, perhaps you had dated the whole fucking time without telling him. Oh God, Wonwoo’s is going to pass out.

Wonwoo loses his speeding, fucking dashing train of thoughts when you lightly hit his chest.

“Stop overthinking, dummy,” you say before he goes overboard. “I never told you because it was never official and I was never sure if I liked him enough.”

“Why are we talking about a Josh, then?” he asks. “If it was never official.”

“Because he’s moving to Seoul, too!” you exclaim. Excitedly.

You and Wonwoo’s dynamics have always been constant, despite the years, despite the distance. Two peas in a pod. Always on the same page.

Wonwoo has a terrible feeling that things will change soon.

#one way ticket for two #wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen au #seventeen fic #wonwoo au

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