au: deaf!wook

Jongwoon hadn’t touched his guitar in years. He’d played a lot when he was younger and had started writing music when he was in high school, but, after he met Ryeowook, he gradually stopped writing and playing altogether. He didn’t see much point in it when the man he loved wasn’t able to hear the songs.

That’s why, when he walked into the kitchen that morning, he thought it was weird that an overwhelming desire to break out his old guitar washed over him. But the more he stared at Ryeowook, the more he found himself wanting to play. Maybe it was the way he was bending, just slightly, over the counter, his long, thin fingers carefully darting around as he made himself a sandwich to take for lunch. Maybe it was the way the sun streamed through the window, bathing the top of his head in golden light and making it look like he was almost glowing. Maybe it was just that, after five years, Jongwoon realized that he was fascinated by Ryeowook every bit as much now as he was the day they met.

When he left for work that morning, chords started running through his mind. As he sat as his desk, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as he ignored his work, he could have sworn he heard a soft melody playing over and over. When he got home that night, he slipped upstairs as Ryeowook cooked dinner, digging a thin notebook out of the back of his closet.

After dinner, he sat down on their shared bed as Ryeowook played with their kittens and he took a deep breath before hesitantly starting to write down notes on the blank paper before him.

---

Ryeowook gently scratched Sebastian behind the ears, smiling down at the kitten. This one, the shy gray one, was decidedly Jongwoon’s cat – it had latched onto him almost immediately – but Jongwoon was busy so he was perfectly content to let Ryeowook play with him instead. Ryeowook wasn’t sure what his boyfriend was up to, but he had taken his notebook out after dinner every night for the past two weeks and then gone off alone. He wanted to know what was going on, but knew better than to ask; Jongwoon would volunteer the information when he felt comfortable doing so and there was no use pushing him before then. He let out a slow breath, stretching out across the floor and letting Sebastian climb onto his chest. He just hoped he would find out what was going on soon. He missed spending time with his boyfriend.

---

Jongwoon wrote and practiced until he deemed his song presentable. He was a little out of practice from years of no playing, but it came to him fairly naturally. That evening, after a dinner filled with fluttering fingertips telling workplace stories, he grabbed Ryeowook’s arm gently, nodding toward the living room.

‘I…I wrote you a song,’ he signed quickly, looking away, almost embarrassed.

Curious, Ryeowook followed him, blinking in surprise when he saw the guitar propped up against the couch. He glanced at Jongwoon, raising an eyebrow.

Jongwoon gave him a nervous, shaky smile before plopping down on the couch, picking up the guitar and holding it tightly. Instead of sitting next to him, Ryeowook sat down on the floor in front of him so that he was eye-level with the instrument, then looked up expectantly. So this is what he had been busy with.

Jongwoon took a deep breath, then he began to play.

Ryeowook’s eyes flickered back to his fingers and he almost immediately felt his breath catch in his throat. The way Jongwoon’s fingers moved, plucking gently at strings and pressing lightly here and there, was more captivating than any audible sound could have possibly been. It was the gentle creases in his skin, the hesitations and quick jumps, the way Ryeowook could see the music pouring out of them. Hesitantly, he reached out, pressing the tips of his own fingers against the edge of the guitar, letting the slight vibrations slide up his arm and around his heart as his eyes never moved from Jongwoon’s hands.

His fingers slowed, then came to a stop altogether, hovering over the strings uncertainly. He didn’t meet Ryeowook’s gaze, scared that he hadn’t liked it, so he was surprised when a feather-light touch tilted his head upwards and warm lips pressed against his.

And then, he couldn’t help but smile.

He’d have to start playing the guitar more often.