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Entry tags:
[FIC]: made to measure: 1 (a normal day).
made to measure: 1 (a normal day), pg, woohyun/dongwoo.
i'm so happy in this moment.
i've been with stranded without you
now i gradually feel peaceful and suddenly smile
bind up the dark curtain
hold up the feeling
facing me, you shade away my sadness
i still can't saying that
i'm falling head over, tingling to say that word
love you more than anyone else
only you and me and me, and me, and me
super junior, "진심"
MADE TO MEASURE: 1 (A NORMAL DAY)
woohyun/dongwoo
Woohyun hits the snooze button on his alarm for the fourth time in a row, and Dongwoo kicks him out of bed. Literally, in fact—plants his hands in the small of Woohyun’s back and shoves, so Woohyun goes tumbling off the mattress, his legs tangled in the sheets.
“Jang Dongwoo,” he manages from the floor, looking up at Dongwoo with a disbelieving expression. “Did you just push me out of bed?”
Dongwoo, from where he’s shifted to sprawl across the mattress, smiles seraphically at Woohyun and props his chin in his hand. “You’re gonna be late if you hit snooze one more time,” he says, then leans forward off the edge of the bed to kiss the line of Woohyun’s cheekbone. “Go take a shower and be mad at me after.”
“You’ll learn to fear my wrath one day,” Woohyun says, but it’s all hot air. Dongwoo can tell because Woohyun cuts his own words off by turning to kiss Dongwoo on the mouth (morning breath be damned). Also, he’s smiling when he finally disentangles himself from the sheets.
Woohyun trudges off to the shower, and Dongwoo fixes the sheets and then makes the bed and wonders if maybe he should go home for a night. He hasn’t been back to his own apartment in days—he has enough clothes in Woohyun’s closet that he doesn’t have to, has his own toothbrush in Woohyun’s bathroom, has his shoes in Woohyun’s shoerack. They didn’t really mean for it to end up like this, at least Dongwoo doesn’t think they did, but somehow the idea of going back to his own apartment just doesn’t appeal.
“Here,” Dongwoo says, handing Woohyun a mug of coffee when he emerges from the bathroom, his hair still damp. Woohyun cooks well and bakes better, but he hasn’t managed to tame the wild beast that is the coffee machine, so Dongwoo considers it his job.
Woohyun sips. “What’s in it?” he asks, glancing down into his cup.
“Cinnamon.” Dongwoo avoids Woohyun’s eyes, suddenly shy. “It’s cold outside, it’ll help keep you warm. And I heard it boosts metabolism, too—”
He shuts up when Woohyun kisses him, just a soft, proprietary touch of lips. “Have I told you today that you’re amazing?” Woohyun asks, one arm circling Dongwoo’s waist even as his other hand holds tight to the coffee.
“Not today,” Dongwoo says, laughing. Woohyun says it a lot, but Dongwoo’s only just now beginning to believe it. “You were too busy promising wrath.”
“Then I forgive you,” Woohyun says, rather magnanimously, “because you’re amazing, and this coffee is amazing. Is Sungyeol in today? You should come to my office, we can go out and get lunch at the deli that just opened.”
Dongwoo thinks about it. “I have a fitting scheduled at 1:30,” he says. “But all right. As long as you don’t make passes at me and force me to do something inappropriate.”
Woohyun coughs and flushes. “That was once,” he says, and pinches Dongwoo’s side when Dongwoo can’t stop laughing. “I take it back, I’ll never forgive you. Let’s meet at noon, okay? Call me when you get there and I’ll come right down.”
“All right,” Dongwoo says, straightening the front of Woohyun’s jacket. “Go to work, delinquent.”
Sungyeol pretends for all of ten seconds that Dongwoo’s lunch break is a burden, but the facade breaks quickly when his face relaxes into a smile. “Hyung, really,” he says, pointing his pencil in Dongwoo’s general direction, “I think your taste in men has improved a lot. Really a lot.”
“Think so?” Dongwoo can’t hold back a grin. “He never makes the bed.”
“Oh, terrible,” Sungyeol says. (Dongwoo knows that Sungyeol never makes the bed, either.) “Let me guess, he’s also bad at laundry? Washes his whites and brights together?”
“No, he separates the whites and brights, but I don’t think he’s ever hand-washed anything in his life.” With a sigh of mock-regret, Dongwoo shrugs into his suit jacket and shakes his head. “I must be cursed.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Sungyeol says. “He makes you happy. I bet you can deal with unmade beds and disorganized laundry.”
Which is why, when Dongwoo comes up out of the subway entrance in front of Woohyun’s company’s building, he’s having a hard time suppressing the smile on his face. He probably looks a little silly, but Sungyeol had had a point—Woohyun did make him happy. That was more than any relationship had done for Dongwoo in a long time.
“Are you downstairs?” is how Woohyun answers the phone when Dongwoo calls. “Thirty seconds, I’ll be right down.”
“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight,” Dongwoo says, teasing, and Woohyun laughs and hangs up.
Twenty-six seconds later, Woohyun emerges from the front doors of the building, accompanied by two coworkers. “Hey,” he says, coming to a halt in front of Dongwoo. “Am I late? I guess not, you didn’t leave without me.”
Dongwoo’s not sure what the protocol is for this situation. With Hoya, he had always just been the friend—casual as anything, and he hadn’t been allowed to touch Hoya in public. Woohyun isn’t like that, but still—well. Dongwoo smiles, just a little shaky. “You made it by four seconds,” he says, tapping his watch. “Lucky.”
“You’re a slave driver.” Woohyun turns back to his coworkers, and Dongwoo braces himself for the moment of truth. “Key, Chaerin—this is Dongwoo.”
He doesn’t offer anything more, and Dongwoo is prepared to be disappointed, but then Woohyun rests a possessive hand on the small of his back. Woohyun’s presence is warm against Dongwoo’s shoulder, and Dongwoo relaxes minutely. “Nice to meet you,” he tells them, and means it.
“Oh, the boyfriend,” the man—Key—says. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Probably more than you want strangers knowing, actually, but Woohyun has problems shutting up sometimes.”
Dongwoo laughs and turns so he can look at Woohyun. “Don’t I know it,” he says.
“Let’s go,” Chaerin suggests, taking hold of Key’s tie and pulling. “You’re interrupting couple bonding time.”
“I, but—” Dongwoo begins, but Chaerin is already dragging a protesting Key away, and Dongwoo gets the impression that’s just kind of how things work around here. He turns back to Woohyun, who’s still recovering from his blushing. “More than I want strangers knowing, huh?” he says, trying and failing to fight down a laugh. “I’m not sure I want to ask.”
“Look, it was noraebang,” Woohyun protests. “I was a little drunk, they kept asking—plus, nothing I said was a lie!”
“Sure,” Dongwoo says, and kisses him quiet.
i'm so happy in this moment.
i've been with stranded without you
now i gradually feel peaceful and suddenly smile
bind up the dark curtain
hold up the feeling
facing me, you shade away my sadness
i still can't saying that
i'm falling head over, tingling to say that word
love you more than anyone else
only you and me and me, and me, and me
super junior, "진심"
MADE TO MEASURE: 1 (A NORMAL DAY)
woohyun/dongwoo
Woohyun hits the snooze button on his alarm for the fourth time in a row, and Dongwoo kicks him out of bed. Literally, in fact—plants his hands in the small of Woohyun’s back and shoves, so Woohyun goes tumbling off the mattress, his legs tangled in the sheets.
“Jang Dongwoo,” he manages from the floor, looking up at Dongwoo with a disbelieving expression. “Did you just push me out of bed?”
Dongwoo, from where he’s shifted to sprawl across the mattress, smiles seraphically at Woohyun and props his chin in his hand. “You’re gonna be late if you hit snooze one more time,” he says, then leans forward off the edge of the bed to kiss the line of Woohyun’s cheekbone. “Go take a shower and be mad at me after.”
“You’ll learn to fear my wrath one day,” Woohyun says, but it’s all hot air. Dongwoo can tell because Woohyun cuts his own words off by turning to kiss Dongwoo on the mouth (morning breath be damned). Also, he’s smiling when he finally disentangles himself from the sheets.
Woohyun trudges off to the shower, and Dongwoo fixes the sheets and then makes the bed and wonders if maybe he should go home for a night. He hasn’t been back to his own apartment in days—he has enough clothes in Woohyun’s closet that he doesn’t have to, has his own toothbrush in Woohyun’s bathroom, has his shoes in Woohyun’s shoerack. They didn’t really mean for it to end up like this, at least Dongwoo doesn’t think they did, but somehow the idea of going back to his own apartment just doesn’t appeal.
“Here,” Dongwoo says, handing Woohyun a mug of coffee when he emerges from the bathroom, his hair still damp. Woohyun cooks well and bakes better, but he hasn’t managed to tame the wild beast that is the coffee machine, so Dongwoo considers it his job.
Woohyun sips. “What’s in it?” he asks, glancing down into his cup.
“Cinnamon.” Dongwoo avoids Woohyun’s eyes, suddenly shy. “It’s cold outside, it’ll help keep you warm. And I heard it boosts metabolism, too—”
He shuts up when Woohyun kisses him, just a soft, proprietary touch of lips. “Have I told you today that you’re amazing?” Woohyun asks, one arm circling Dongwoo’s waist even as his other hand holds tight to the coffee.
“Not today,” Dongwoo says, laughing. Woohyun says it a lot, but Dongwoo’s only just now beginning to believe it. “You were too busy promising wrath.”
“Then I forgive you,” Woohyun says, rather magnanimously, “because you’re amazing, and this coffee is amazing. Is Sungyeol in today? You should come to my office, we can go out and get lunch at the deli that just opened.”
Dongwoo thinks about it. “I have a fitting scheduled at 1:30,” he says. “But all right. As long as you don’t make passes at me and force me to do something inappropriate.”
Woohyun coughs and flushes. “That was once,” he says, and pinches Dongwoo’s side when Dongwoo can’t stop laughing. “I take it back, I’ll never forgive you. Let’s meet at noon, okay? Call me when you get there and I’ll come right down.”
“All right,” Dongwoo says, straightening the front of Woohyun’s jacket. “Go to work, delinquent.”
Sungyeol pretends for all of ten seconds that Dongwoo’s lunch break is a burden, but the facade breaks quickly when his face relaxes into a smile. “Hyung, really,” he says, pointing his pencil in Dongwoo’s general direction, “I think your taste in men has improved a lot. Really a lot.”
“Think so?” Dongwoo can’t hold back a grin. “He never makes the bed.”
“Oh, terrible,” Sungyeol says. (Dongwoo knows that Sungyeol never makes the bed, either.) “Let me guess, he’s also bad at laundry? Washes his whites and brights together?”
“No, he separates the whites and brights, but I don’t think he’s ever hand-washed anything in his life.” With a sigh of mock-regret, Dongwoo shrugs into his suit jacket and shakes his head. “I must be cursed.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” Sungyeol says. “He makes you happy. I bet you can deal with unmade beds and disorganized laundry.”
Which is why, when Dongwoo comes up out of the subway entrance in front of Woohyun’s company’s building, he’s having a hard time suppressing the smile on his face. He probably looks a little silly, but Sungyeol had had a point—Woohyun did make him happy. That was more than any relationship had done for Dongwoo in a long time.
“Are you downstairs?” is how Woohyun answers the phone when Dongwoo calls. “Thirty seconds, I’ll be right down.”
“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight,” Dongwoo says, teasing, and Woohyun laughs and hangs up.
Twenty-six seconds later, Woohyun emerges from the front doors of the building, accompanied by two coworkers. “Hey,” he says, coming to a halt in front of Dongwoo. “Am I late? I guess not, you didn’t leave without me.”
Dongwoo’s not sure what the protocol is for this situation. With Hoya, he had always just been the friend—casual as anything, and he hadn’t been allowed to touch Hoya in public. Woohyun isn’t like that, but still—well. Dongwoo smiles, just a little shaky. “You made it by four seconds,” he says, tapping his watch. “Lucky.”
“You’re a slave driver.” Woohyun turns back to his coworkers, and Dongwoo braces himself for the moment of truth. “Key, Chaerin—this is Dongwoo.”
He doesn’t offer anything more, and Dongwoo is prepared to be disappointed, but then Woohyun rests a possessive hand on the small of his back. Woohyun’s presence is warm against Dongwoo’s shoulder, and Dongwoo relaxes minutely. “Nice to meet you,” he tells them, and means it.
“Oh, the boyfriend,” the man—Key—says. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Probably more than you want strangers knowing, actually, but Woohyun has problems shutting up sometimes.”
Dongwoo laughs and turns so he can look at Woohyun. “Don’t I know it,” he says.
“Let’s go,” Chaerin suggests, taking hold of Key’s tie and pulling. “You’re interrupting couple bonding time.”
“I, but—” Dongwoo begins, but Chaerin is already dragging a protesting Key away, and Dongwoo gets the impression that’s just kind of how things work around here. He turns back to Woohyun, who’s still recovering from his blushing. “More than I want strangers knowing, huh?” he says, trying and failing to fight down a laugh. “I’m not sure I want to ask.”
“Look, it was noraebang,” Woohyun protests. “I was a little drunk, they kept asking—plus, nothing I said was a lie!”
“Sure,” Dongwoo says, and kisses him quiet.