In His Arms - Wonheon ( Wonho x Jooheon )

Chapter 4 : New Hobby

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Click .

Wonho pulls the Nikon camera away from his face and looks across the park. It’s a sunny day with the tell-tale signs of a warm summer on the brink. There’s a handful of people walking around; a boy and his dog playing frisbee not to far to Wonho’s right, and an elder couple feeding the pigeons to his left. But he isn’t paying attention to any of them. Instead, his gaze is sharp on the figure that is sitting on a bench beneath a large oak tree a few dozen yards away. He stares, and absorbs as much as his unaided eyesight can see.

Jooheon is alone today, sipping delicately from a coffee cup that Wonho had watched him get almost an hour ago. Since then, Jooheon has had his headphones in and absentmindedly switches his gaze from his phone to the scenery surrounding them, smiling gently as the individuals that pass him nod their heads in greetings. Wonho has been carefully concealing himself behind a tree that is a fair distance away and brings his camera up every time he sees a new angle that shows him something new-- a sharper feature of Jooheon’s jawline, or a glimpse of how Jooheon’s eyes soften as he glances at his phone and a smile curves at his sinful lips.

Wonho zooms in the lens. Let’s it focus on Jooheon’s face. Click.  He zooms the lens even further as Jooheon puts his coffee to his lips. Click. Click. Wonho stares, breathlessly, when Jooheon swallows-- Click -- and watches through the glass lens as the muscles in Jooheon’s throat clench softly as the liquid flows into him. Click. Click. Click.

Wonho exhales soundlessly and he darts out his tongue to lip his licks. Every movement that Jooheon makes, Wonho is quick to take advantage and his fingers automatically press down onto the silver button on the top of the camera to capture that moment in time forever.

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Click.

Wonho only moves once Jooheon does. He keeps his distance but he’s always close. So very close.  

                              x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Later that night, Wonho examines each picture as it slides from the printing tray. He lets his fingers brush against the smooth waxy surface of each print, his pale digits more gentler than he’s ever been before. The pad of his thumb traces over Jooheon’s face and figure, touching the unsuspecting brunet through the photo with the softness only of a lover’s touch.

When the last photo is done, Wonho gathers all the new prints in his hands and shuffles through them as he turns away from his computer and printer. He steps into the middle of his office room and stares in fascination at one picture in particular; of Jooheon staring at something in the distance, his piercing brown gaze trained softly on something out of the frame and the slightest curl of a smile on his pink lips. It’s one of the best headshots that Wonho has taken of the brunet and he has to admit that he’s starting to get the hang of his newfound picture-taking hobby. It’d taken him a couple of weeks but the pictures are starting to come out more crisp, more defined and real enough that Wonho can fool himself into thinking the real Jooheon is standing right in front of him.

That Jooheon is standing in this very room, with Wonho. Because the room is filled with Jooheon.

Literally.

Wonho pulls his attention from the print held delicately in his hands and he looks up, letting his gaze skim the once pale blue walls that are now covered in pictures, not a slither of the paint visible any longer. He moves in a slow circle, letting his gaze dart back and forth, up and down, to see every shot that he’s taken in one short month’s period. There’s multiple days worth of Jooheon walking down the sidewalks, some of him talking with the redheaded woman, some taken of Jooheon, Rosé, and a blonde man as they joined together at various restaurants, and even a few trips to the movie theater as a three-person party. Most of the shots are of Jooheon by himself; entering and exiting his apartment, strolling down to the park, walking to coffee shops and to take-out restaurants, and the million-dollar shots also Wonho's absolute favorites of Jooheon standing in the window of his apartment, shirtless, hair tousled, and a steaming cup of something hot in his hands as he gazes out onto the busy morning streets. Wonho hardly ever captures Rosé or the blonde man in his pictures but if and when he does, then he eagerly cuts them out of the pictures before taping the prints up onto the wall, joining the countless others.

Wonho grabs the tape from his desk and starts assembling the newest collection of photographs onto his wall. He’s already covered one full wall, which is almost mind blowing to him. When he had started… all of this , he had been sure that one or two pictures would have sated his need, but once he had those few, he needed more . And more and more and more until-- until he had moved onto the next wall and now that he has over half of the room done, it just feels empty to see the rest of the walls shine with that blue paint. He doesn’t care that he had to remove two award plaques he’s received from the hospital or even that he had to take down his painting of the Brooklyn Bridge that he had done his freshman year in college. He doesn’t care about that stuff because it’s all so pointless when there’s a photograph of Jooheon resting beside it. It all becomes meaningless in comparison to the young man.

So it doesn’t bother him when he tapes up the new stack. It’s almost muscle memory now when his fingers pluck the tape away from the roll, letting his skin dig into the small metal spikes as he pulls the clear adhesive away. Wonho blinks as he puts each picture up, watching as the blue paint fades away piece by piece and Jooheon comes to life just a bit more.  

Wonho pauses, however, when he gets to the last picture in his hands. It’s the headshot of Jooheon. His fingers hover over the picture and instead of letting it join the others on the wall, Wonho pulls it to his chest and turns, taking it away with him to his bedroom across the hall.

He places the photograph on top of the covers as he gets dressed for bed and tilts his head in consideration at the image of Jooheon’s picture in his bed. It does strange things to his insides that he can’t begin to understand.

When he goes to lay down, it’s silent but he doesn’t mind as much as he used to because he doesn’t feel as alone as he used to. With his lamp turned on, Wonho stares at the picture for so long that even when he closes his eyes all he can see is Jooheon.