Chapter Text
“Isn’t that Choi San?”
“Wait? Who?”
“Choi San! The Olympic snowboard medallist duh.”
“The one that won silver a couple of months back? That Choi San?!”
“Yeah, the dude with the red highlights! Looks like him right!!”
Sowon whispers to her best friend Jessica. The two girls standing in their local supermarket buying ingredients for the party at Jessica’s tomorrow night. They watch as Choi San contemplates between two different brands of marinara sauce, carefully reading the label of each one.
“Sis, he HAWT.” Jessica whispers to Sowon, who nods her head in reply, giving her best friend the I know right look.
Snowboarding gear did no justice to Choi San’s body. Instead of the usual thick warm layers of clothing San usually sported on televised competitions and snowboarding photos on Instagram, San had dressed down. In a plain black muscle tee tucked into a pair of black distressed denim and high cut black boots, the outfit showed off the man’s incredibly toned arms. He was not particularly buff given his leaner frame but those arms were certainly nice to look at. San even had some makeup on, nothing particularly strange for the modern young Korean man, probably some concealer, brows and just a little bit of brown eyeshadow to give his eyes a bit more depth. His red highlights really complimented his features, making them sharper, giving the man an overall chic, almost intimidating look. As if standing too close to perfection would cause one to get cut by his jawline or something.
Just at that moment, another young man walks up to Choi San. His arms cradling quite a few vegetables which he sets down in the shopping cart San was pushing. The man’s silver hair made him stick out like a sore thumb, dressed in an oversized dark grey sweater tucked into light acid wash jeans and black converse high tops. He goes up to Choi San and envelops the Olympian in a back hug.
Jessica hears Sowon gasp audibly beside her.
“Jung Wooyoung.” Her best friend says in a revered whisper.
Startled, Jessica takes another look at that man. The silver-haired man wore not a drop of makeup but even without it, his skin was like porcelain. Clear, white and smooth. Not a blemish insight, which makes all Korean girls cry a little on the inside. His features were distinctively softer, especially obvious next to Choi San, but nothing short of beautiful.
How could one man look so effortlessly handsome? That truly was Jung Wooyoung. The model whose face has graced countless of magazines.
To make it worse, the oversized sweater that he donned swallowed Wooyoung’s frame making him look even smaller and his messy unstyled hair made him look adorably soft.
Jessica could feel the pang in Sowon’s heart as her best friend stared at the male model’s cuteness. Completely different from the sexy sultry looks Jung Wooyoung served on Vogue Korea or the model’s Instagram page. If a picture of Wooyoung in this state was to be captured, all of Korea’s young women would be weeping. For god did not make all men equal, he loved Wooyoung way too much at conception and puberty.
Jessica and Sowon continued to watch Jung Wooyoung and Choi San interact. Which was a strange sight to say the least.
Who’d imagine a winter Olympian and a model would be acquainted with each other, much less be close friends.
Very close friends so it seems.
Jung Wooyoung rests his chin on Choi San’s shoulder, rocking the taller’s body from right to left as his arms gripped San’s waist. San seems to ignore Wooyoung’s display of affection for the most part, finally deciding on the tomato sauce in his left hand and gingerly setting it down in the trolley. San leaves the trolley be and walks (more like waddles with Wooyoung clinging onto him) slightly over to the pasta section. The man now deciding on what pasta he should purchase given the ridiculous array of noodle types. Wooyoung seems to speak to San, which the olympian ignores.
This exchange goes on for about 4-5 minutes. It’s seriously mindblowing to see two famous people from drastically different fields be such close friends.
Then Sowon almost breaks down next to Jessica.
Choi San seemed to give out a loud sigh and look over to Wooyoung, speaking to the model. The model had been wearing a pout which quickly vanished at San’s words.
Wooyoung then kissed San’s cheek and sprinted off to god knows where.
Jessica needed to double-check her perfect eyesight.
Jung Wooyoung just kissed Choi San on the cheek.
Jessica’s jaw dropped.
Choi San then wore a disgustingly love-struck, almost teary-eyed look when Jung Wooyoung returned with the largest tub of vanilla ice cream and an even larger smile on his lips.
That smile was blinding.
Sowon was pretty much sobbing right next to Jessica at this point, the two having witnessed the most wholesome adorable public display of affection physically possible to man. Jessica swears felt a tear rolled down her cheek.
This world does not deserve WooSan.
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“Sannieeeee.”
San ignores the voice calling out to him cutely.
“Sannnieeeeeeeeeeee.”
The voice from behind now much closer, dripping with aegyo. San felt said person rest their chin on his shoulder, arms clinging onto his waist. San ignores the other, looking at the variety of pasta that sat on the supermarket shelves.
San was a strong man. It was always something he prided himself with. He never once cried, even when he had broken his leg and could not compete in the nationals four years ago. Instead he picked himself up and pushed himself harder once he was all healed. He trained even harder when he made the Olympics qualifiers and finally clinched onto the silver medal for his country. San was cool, chic, at times even intimidatingly cold. San even knew he was good looking especially when he sees the girls swoon as he looks in their direction. He was not at all weak.
His resolve shall not crumble. He was an unmovable rock. A mountain just like his name. A strong man. A strong man indeed.
“Sannnnnnniiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
San made a mistake.
He carelessly turns and looks to the boy next to him. Wide puppy eyes and pouty lips. The boy had his cheeks squished against San’s shoulder, silver hair looking extra fluffy and tousled today without any styling. The fact that he was barefaced, drowning in San’s dark grey v neck sweater that threatened to fall off the boy’s left shoulder, exposing too much milky skin and the smooth collarbone for it to be legal. The boy even has the nerve to intensify his pout.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckerty Fuck.
Fuck.
Who was he kidding, San was weak. A weak man. Only and especially in the face of Jung Wooyoung. He might as well launch himself off the mountain he so very loved to snowboard on for his foe was much too powerful.
Dammit, Jung Wooyoung.
Wooyoung saw San’s resolve crumbling and resisted the smile creeping onto his features.
“Fine,” San sighed. “Only one tub.”
Wooyoung cheers loudly, pecking San on the cheek before bounding towards the ice cream aisle.
San watches his best friend and the love of his life run back with a tub of ice cream in his palms, smiling so widely it literally wrenches his heart.
San cries internally, for the god has truly blessed him to die as a happy man.