Ship/Member: junhui/wonwoo Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: idolverse, i will never stop thinking abt 8jun’s homecoming to korea, honestly more of a character study than shipping but it’s Still There, established relationship, i’m really not used to writing smut so please don’t come for me Permission to remix: Yes
he stumbles back into his apartment and the air is quiet and still. it’s not that the others didn’t care that he flew in to seoul today. it’s two in the morning and junhui cannot bring himself to blame them for not staying up. it’s not the first time he’s left and returned, and surely it will not be the last, with his life always caught between these two points. two push pins stuck into the corkboard map on his wall. the handwritten welcome home, junnie! banner taped up against the wall of their living room and a standing arrangement for breakfast in the morning together is all he needs to know that he is home.
he rolls his luggage into his room as quietly as he can, cringing at the light squeak of rubber wheels against the tiled floor. it’s too late to unpack, really. that task alone would almost guarantee a sleepless night, the time instead filled with rounds of laundry and the neat allocation of new homes to the souvenirs he’d acquired on his trip to china. instead, he opts to take a hot shower. he cranks the steel handle as far to the left as he can, one last cold breath sucked in before the water scalds his skin into a rosy pink. travel is a dirty endeavour, and the first shower to scrub off all the grime of sitting in cars and waiting rooms and planes is always the most satisfying. he takes his time with it, luxuriates in the way the heat from the water wakes up every single nerve ending on his skin. there’s no one else he has to save the hot water for, anyway, and that alone is a rare and precious occurrence now that he’s back in the shared dorm apartment.
junhui dresses simply, after. just a pair of worn grey sweats and a loose-fitting white tee, comfort clothes thrown on with the intention of going to sleep, except he can’t. he stares at the ceiling. stares out of the window. stares at the covers that should be familiar, considering they are his own, but these are all sights and tactile sensations that feel too raw. too different. too unlike the surroundings he’d forced himself to get used to, all those nights spent alone in his temporary apartment. the sheets are all wrong, and somehow the pillow no longer feels like the right density even though he’d literally just bought it a month before leaving for his overseas schedules.
—
he finds himself standing in front of another apartment door with a key tucked into his palm, its serrated edges pinching at his skin. it’s like sleepwalking, he tries to convince himself. it’s not like he consciously did this, it was just what his body did on autopilot. sought something familiar to ground himself when he felt so incredibly displaced. he turns the key, huffs a victorious laugh when it slides smoothly in the lock, and lets himself in, padding a path he needs no map for.
junhui knocks gently at the door, once and then twice. wonwoo could still be awake, he reasons, still stuck in the pixels and colours of his video games. the light spilling under his door seems to suggest that, anyway. he sighs at the lack of response, but it’s too late to turn back now. he turns the doorknob gently and pushes it open just a crack at first, then all the way. there he was. the smile that lifts junhui’s face is immediate. wonwoo had fallen asleep with the lights still on, fingers still clamped vise-like around his phone rotated in landscape position. obviously he’d still been gaming, junhui thinks with a fond smile, even though i’ve told him a million times to get proper rest.
it is routine, this: taking wonwoo’s metal-rimmed glasses gingerly off his face and setting them on his nightstand. plugging his phone in for him. turning out the lights so he can actually get a good night’s sleep. routine enough that junhui begins to feel a little more settled in his skin, a little less like he’d lost something of himself in the air between korea and china. he decides against waking wonwoo then, choosing instead to slip under the covers beside him. he falls asleep like this, nose buried in the scent of wonwoo’s fresh shampoo and the musky smell of his skin.
—
he wakes to a round of kisses being pressed to his face: forehead, eyelids, cheeks, the tip of his nose. when junhui squints his eyes open against the sunlight filtering through the room in a golden column, all he sees is wonwoo with a triumphant grin spread across his face. this is his most cat-like feature, junhui thinks. the way he’ll wake up whenever he wants and make it your problem immediately, but you’d have to risk your life to wake him up anytime else.
“hi,” he mumbles, his throat still dry from sleeping.
“welcome home,” wonwoo murmurs, his hand roving across the plane of junhui’s chest under the covers. as if he’s trying to memorise the shape of him once more. as if he’s trying to convince himself junhui’s actually here. “i didn’t think i’d see you till this evening.”
“i came in last night,” junhui replies sleepily, the fact that it’s entirely obvious eluding his mind. “thought you’d still be awake.”
“you missed me that much?” the smile on his lips is gloating and satisfied, even without junhui’s acknowledgment of the truth. “what did you miss, hm?”
“this.” it’s too early for words, so he decides to just show him. junhui bridges the space between them, bringing his mouth to wonwoo’s in a sloppy kiss and swallowing the soft moan he gets in return. “and this.” he traces his fingers across wonwoo’s jaw, his throat, feeling his pulse jump staccato against his skin. “and this.” he slides his palm around the growing length in wonwoo’s shorts, grinning smugly at the hoarse whine that escapes the other’s mouth.
it’s meant to be a tease, really. just a way to get back at the cocky smile on wonwoo’s face, his question implying that coming to his room deep in the night was a surrender. but every further step they take in the early morning haze only reminds junhui and wonwoo how much they actually have missed being this close. skin to skin, the friction and heat only pulling them closer together.
they shed their layers quickly, instinctively, junhui kicking off his sweatpants while helping to tug off wonwoo’s shirt. there is nothing elegant or beautiful about the way they make love. it is a tangle of limbs and mouths, and neither of them are awake enough to be careful with the slick wetness of lube and spit. when wonwoo first presses himself into junhui he almost cries.
[FILL] if my heart was a house / you'd be home
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, i will never stop thinking abt 8jun’s homecoming to korea, honestly more of a character study than shipping but it’s Still There, established relationship, i’m really not used to writing smut so please don’t come for me
Permission to remix: Yes
edited: crossposted to ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36290578)
***
he stumbles back into his apartment and the air is quiet and still. it’s not that the others didn’t care that he flew in to seoul today. it’s two in the morning and junhui cannot bring himself to blame them for not staying up. it’s not the first time he’s left and returned, and surely it will not be the last, with his life always caught between these two points. two push pins stuck into the corkboard map on his wall. the handwritten welcome home, junnie! banner taped up against the wall of their living room and a standing arrangement for breakfast in the morning together is all he needs to know that he is home.
he rolls his luggage into his room as quietly as he can, cringing at the light squeak of rubber wheels against the tiled floor. it’s too late to unpack, really. that task alone would almost guarantee a sleepless night, the time instead filled with rounds of laundry and the neat allocation of new homes to the souvenirs he’d acquired on his trip to china. instead, he opts to take a hot shower. he cranks the steel handle as far to the left as he can, one last cold breath sucked in before the water scalds his skin into a rosy pink. travel is a dirty endeavour, and the first shower to scrub off all the grime of sitting in cars and waiting rooms and planes is always the most satisfying. he takes his time with it, luxuriates in the way the heat from the water wakes up every single nerve ending on his skin. there’s no one else he has to save the hot water for, anyway, and that alone is a rare and precious occurrence now that he’s back in the shared dorm apartment.
junhui dresses simply, after. just a pair of worn grey sweats and a loose-fitting white tee, comfort clothes thrown on with the intention of going to sleep, except he can’t. he stares at the ceiling. stares out of the window. stares at the covers that should be familiar, considering they are his own, but these are all sights and tactile sensations that feel too raw. too different. too unlike the surroundings he’d forced himself to get used to, all those nights spent alone in his temporary apartment. the sheets are all wrong, and somehow the pillow no longer feels like the right density even though he’d literally just bought it a month before leaving for his overseas schedules.
—
he finds himself standing in front of another apartment door with a key tucked into his palm, its serrated edges pinching at his skin. it’s like sleepwalking, he tries to convince himself. it’s not like he consciously did this, it was just what his body did on autopilot. sought something familiar to ground himself when he felt so incredibly displaced. he turns the key, huffs a victorious laugh when it slides smoothly in the lock, and lets himself in, padding a path he needs no map for.
junhui knocks gently at the door, once and then twice. wonwoo could still be awake, he reasons, still stuck in the pixels and colours of his video games. the light spilling under his door seems to suggest that, anyway. he sighs at the lack of response, but it’s too late to turn back now. he turns the doorknob gently and pushes it open just a crack at first, then all the way. there he was. the smile that lifts junhui’s face is immediate. wonwoo had fallen asleep with the lights still on, fingers still clamped vise-like around his phone rotated in landscape position. obviously he’d still been gaming, junhui thinks with a fond smile, even though i’ve told him a million times to get proper rest.
it is routine, this: taking wonwoo’s metal-rimmed glasses gingerly off his face and setting them on his nightstand. plugging his phone in for him. turning out the lights so he can actually get a good night’s sleep. routine enough that junhui begins to feel a little more settled in his skin, a little less like he’d lost something of himself in the air between korea and china. he decides against waking wonwoo then, choosing instead to slip under the covers beside him. he falls asleep like this, nose buried in the scent of wonwoo’s fresh shampoo and the musky smell of his skin.
—
he wakes to a round of kisses being pressed to his face: forehead, eyelids, cheeks, the tip of his nose. when junhui squints his eyes open against the sunlight filtering through the room in a golden column, all he sees is wonwoo with a triumphant grin spread across his face. this is his most cat-like feature, junhui thinks. the way he’ll wake up whenever he wants and make it your problem immediately, but you’d have to risk your life to wake him up anytime else.
“hi,” he mumbles, his throat still dry from sleeping.
“welcome home,” wonwoo murmurs, his hand roving across the plane of junhui’s chest under the covers. as if he’s trying to memorise the shape of him once more. as if he’s trying to convince himself junhui’s actually here. “i didn’t think i’d see you till this evening.”
“i came in last night,” junhui replies sleepily, the fact that it’s entirely obvious eluding his mind. “thought you’d still be awake.”
“you missed me that much?” the smile on his lips is gloating and satisfied, even without junhui’s acknowledgment of the truth. “what did you miss, hm?”
“this.” it’s too early for words, so he decides to just show him. junhui bridges the space between them, bringing his mouth to wonwoo’s in a sloppy kiss and swallowing the soft moan he gets in return.
“and this.” he traces his fingers across wonwoo’s jaw, his throat, feeling his pulse jump staccato against his skin.
“and this.” he slides his palm around the growing length in wonwoo’s shorts, grinning smugly at the hoarse whine that escapes the other’s mouth.
it’s meant to be a tease, really. just a way to get back at the cocky smile on wonwoo’s face, his question implying that coming to his room deep in the night was a surrender. but every further step they take in the early morning haze only reminds junhui and wonwoo how much they actually have missed being this close. skin to skin, the friction and heat only pulling them closer together.
they shed their layers quickly, instinctively, junhui kicking off his sweatpants while helping to tug off wonwoo’s shirt. there is nothing elegant or beautiful about the way they make love. it is a tangle of limbs and mouths, and neither of them are awake enough to be careful with the slick wetness of lube and spit. when wonwoo first presses himself into junhui he almost cries.