#enhypen jungwon x reader

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→ the second waltz — yang jungwon

synopsis: you reward him with a dance of waltz after he saves your plant.

genre: fluff, established relationship.

length: 1.002k words.

requested by:anon.

warnings: none.

Late into the night, you’re reading by your bedside lamp, the room lit by the cozy light. Rain is pouring onto the roof, the sound of the droplets hitting your window fading into white noise as you flip to the next page of your favourite book. It seems that you can never get enough of the words the author had spilled on the pages, having already read it more than a couple times.

Sitting by your desk, back to you as he replants your plant into another vessel, is Yang Jungwon. There’s a comfortable silence that hangs in the air, the two presences in the room preoccupied with something on their own— it’s been like that for a while now, far before it had even started raining. Neither he, nor you seem to mind the quietness.

It’s not long however, before he turns to you with a boyish smile on his face. He’s expecting you to finish reading the line you’re at, pausing to pay attention to him and so that is exactly what you do. Setting the book back on your nightstand with the bookmark peeking out of the page you leave it at, you pull the simple cover away from your lap, hopping out of your mattress to stalk towards him.

“Are you done?” You lay your hand on his shoulder, leaning against the sturdy material of your desk to inspect the brand new condition of your previously suffering aloe plant, having outgrown its little pot you’d bought it in. It had been months since you’d welcomed it in your home and a change in… outfit was long overdue.

“Yup,” Jungwon nods, slipping out of his rubber gloves, “she’ll be thriving again now.”

Pushing the chair back, he stretches his legs. “Now, how am I going to be repaid?” The all-too eager expression spreads on his face— the same kind of grin he always wore whenever he knows that he will be getting something from you, whether it’s a hug, a kiss or in this case, a dance.

Reaching for your phone to open the proper piece of music for the occasion, you chuckle, “Fine, I’ll teach you how to waltz.”

From the corner of your eyes, you see him jump from his seat and start cleaning up the mess he’d accidentally created on your desk in the process of saving your aloe. Brushing the bits of soil into your trash bin, he asks you, “Is there even enough space to dance here?”

“If you help me move the bed a little to the side, then there will be.”

The rain had dwindled down by the time you’d quietly moved your bed, now falling in gentle pitter-patters. Jungwon is standing in the middle of the emptied space, ready to learn anything you teach him. Waltz No. 2 by Shostakovich is playing from your phone’s speakers, just loud enough to be heard and not too much to disturb the remaining population of the house.

“I’ll lead you, so follow my steps, okay?” You begin by placing your right hand over his shoulder when his left hand finds your waist. It’s intimate in a sense, being just you and him in your room only a foot apart, The Second Waltz in the background sounding as gentle as the hold you have on each other.

There’s an ever-constant flutter in his stomach, one that never seemed to go away in your presence. He should be used to it by now, though he is not. How could he? Even after you being his and him being yours for a year by now, he is just as smitten with you as he was before. The few words that leave your lips only barely registers in his mind before you take a step to the left.

“Now back to my right, step your right foot back next to your left and then take a step forward with your left foot.” You instruct him with an encouraging tone, not paying any heed when he steps on your toes by accident.

You step back, followed by another step to your left. Signalling him to move his foot back, you end up back where you’d started, creating a box shape. A step backwards, then to the left, forward and again, to the right— the sequence is repeated all over again.

It’s by the end of the second circle you’ve done around the room when his body fully adjusts to the rhythm, now entirely at ease with the steps and movement. “How very romantic.” He chimes, running the pad of his thumb over your intertwined hands.

The comment pulls a shy smile out of you, “I look like a rat in my old pajamas, Won. It can’t be that romantic.”

“Quite on the contrary,” he whispers, pulling you closer by the waist, taking you by surprise, “I’ve never seen anyone prettier.”

“Oh yeah,” you entertain him with a sly glint in your eyes, “how about Jang Wonyoung?”

It doesn’t bother you how he’s worked closely with idols— female ones, those who are objectively beautiful. You know the amount of love he carries in his heart only for you. Through his words and affectionate advances, even the way he simply looks at you is enough to make you feel secure in yourself.

That doesn’t mean that you didn’t like teasing him every once in a while with questions like this one. You find great pleasure in the way he panics and sputters, horrified that you might think less of his love for you.

“You know you’re way more beautiful than anyone else on this planet in my eyes.” He grumbles, noticing your mirthful stare, though he instantly lights up when you place a peck on the tip of his scrunched up nose. Another above his brow, then another on his cheek, and another on his jaw.

Jungwon melts inside, feeling his knees weaken when you smile at him again, brushing away the strands of hair falling over his eyes, “I know.”