Archive of Our Own

“I’ll let you kiss me.”

San, who’s been scowling at Wooyoung’s chicken scratch handwriting for almost thirty minutes but can’t complain because he needs these damn notes, looks up from the notebooks sprawled in front of him and goes, “Come again?”

“I said,” answers Wooyoung while scooting closer to his friend on the bed, “I’m giving you permission to kiss me.”

It’s close to sundown, and they’d had a snack of tteokbokki and odeng around two hours ago, so San’s first assumption is that the other’s insatiable hunger has triggered the nonsensical talk. But his theory goes down the drain when Wooyoung slides his hand from San’s shoulder to his neck and parks it in the crook there.

“You told me you have a crush on me, right?”

San feels his entire face burn like a crispy leaf under a magnifying glass and swats Wooyoung’s hand away in embarrassment. “Shut up. That’s now officially the biggest regret of my life.”

The smirk on Wooyoung’s face is every shade of smugness and confidence. “You’re the worst liar I know. C’mon, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance I’m generously offering. And it’s not some virginal peck on the cheek that’s up for grabs here—I’m letting you kiss me proper on the mouth.”

On instinct, San’s eyes flicker down to Wooyoung’s lips, particularly the lower one with the tiniest chocolate chip on it that’s been begging to be bitten since they met in high school. He has to put in a tremendous amount of effort to look away as quickly as he can because this is Wooyoung, a joker, a prankster, a seasoned con artist whose favorite target is his own best friend, and yes, San has irrevocably fallen for him like the five-foot-nine fool he is and had fessed up only several weeks prior.

“San-ah,” Wooyoung says afterward in the gentlest tone San has ever gotten from him, “I love every part of you. You’re beautiful inside and out, and I cherish you like you wouldn’t believe. But friendship’s all I can give you right now.”

The lack of a more detailed explanation is devastating, but Wooyoung rarely justifies his actions. He hates what he hates and loves what he loves just because. And he never says ‘sorry’ directly—although apologies from him can come in the form of everything from a cautious tug on the sleeve to a carton of chocolate milk secretly placed on a desk, he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting or even acknowledging that he’d done something wrong or upsetting.

San is unable to accept the rejection straight away. He’d turned down a number of people thinking he’d stood a chance with Wooyoung. Apparently, even if someone spends nearly every waking hour with you, uses endearments like ‘darling’ and ‘baby’ and ‘sugar plum’ (sugar plum!) for you and no one else, and is so close to every member of your family that they’re often a part of conversations at home—“Is Wooyoungie coming here on the weekend?” “Tell Wooyoung-ah I know where he can get that book he’s been looking for.” “Sannie, don’t forget to invite Wooyoungie for my birthday dinner, alright?”—none of those things automatically secure your place in that person’s heart.

Two days of silent agony later, San decides to try staying away from Wooyoung; he surmises that his feelings would fade the less he sees of his best friend. And it works for a time: five hours and nineteen minutes, to be exact. In the afternoon, Wooyoung lets himself into San’s shared dorm room using his spare key, a contagious grin on his face and a small tub of mint chocolate ice cream plus two metal spoons in his hands.

“Mom had this and like a week’s worth of snacks sent to me,” Wooyoung explains, plopping down on the floor. “C’mon, we can’t let this melt.”

At that moment, San wants to tell Wooyoung to leave and remind him of the pain his dismissal of San’s feelings has caused. But Wooyoung keeps talking and chuckling and repeatedly yet unsuccessfully stabbing the extra-frozen ice cream like the least effective murderer on earth, and the whole scene sets off a realization in San’s mind.

His love for Wooyoung isn’t tied to reciprocation. Even if the other doesn’t harbor the same desire, it’s not the kind of hurricane that could devastate their friendship. It would take so much more to ruin what they have, although San had allowed his sadness and frustration to get the best of him.

Aware of his mistake, San sits cross-legged next to Wooyoung, their knees touching, and takes the plastic container to contribute to the dessert mining endeavor. As he manages to scoop out enough ice cream to fill the spoon, he feels his friend’s lips land firmly on the apple of his right cheek. When he looks up, Wooyoung is smiling at him with more warmth than a cloudless sunny day.

“It’s funny,” he says, “For some reason, I sensed you didn’t want me here. Was my assumption wrong or...?”

Successfully containing his panic, San thinks of his answer in the span of two blinks. “You’re being an idiot. As usual.”

Wooyoung’s smile widens, and relief washes over his pretty face. “I’ll take stupidity any day over not being with you, San-ah.”

The thought of being turned down still triggers a sharp pinch right in the middle of his chest, but San is on his way to getting past it. Or at least learning to ignore it. He knows it won’t be easy to move on from someone like Jung Wooyoung.

“You’re no fun,” says the subject of his musings. “I’m being the best friend and the best crush of the century, yet here you are refusing to take advantage of this golden opportunity.”

“I know you’re on to something,” says San with a pointed glare. “You wouldn’t let me or anyone else do that sort of thing without a catch.”

“The only catch here is me,” remarks Wooyoung, making San roll his eyes. “It can be as quick or as long as you want, and I’m not going to push you away until you’re 100% finished and satisfied. I swear.” He hooks their pinkies together, seemingly wanting to prove his sincerity. “When have I ever broken a pinky promise?”

San takes a moment to think. “Never, but I still don’t trust you.”

“That’s alright, but it’s not really a good reason to put off kissing me.” Wooyoung starts tugging at San’s short sleeve. “I’m not gonna stop unless you’re willing to pucker up.”

Although a few seconds of the repetitive jerking motion is bearable, San remembers that Wooyoung has the persistence of waves crashing against a wall of rock with the end goal of tearing it down even if it takes centuries. Even San’s inhuman level of patience is no match for it, and he crumbles more quickly than usual.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he says, practically spitting out the words. Wooyoung takes his hand back immediately. “Sit in front of me so we can get this over with.”

“Nuh-uh, you come here.” Wooyoung moves backward on the bed until his back hits the wall. “I’m not that easy―you have to work for the kiss a little bit.”

“Fucking catch,” mumbles San as he questions all of his life choices so far and crawls to where his friend is. “Is it too late to exchange the kiss for a chokehold or a punch on the solar plexus?”

“We don’t promote violence in this household, San-ah.”

“Let’s go to my dorm room, then.”

“Shush. Don’t ruin this special moment, peach cake.”

“...No cringey pet names in your cutesy voice or this friendship’s over.”

Wooyoung nods and does the close-and-lock-the-zipper-before-throwing-away-the-key-forever gesture over his mouth.

Since Wooyoung’s legs are straightened out, San keeps his hands and knees on either side of them and stops once his face is only about a foot away from the other’s. This isn’t the closest they’ve been given their propensity for hugs and touches in general, but the purpose of the proximity makes San’s head spin. And maybe the clean scent of his friend’s shampoo is doing things to him as well.

“Are you gonna kiss the air or me?” asks Wooyoung, neutral in facial expression yet with eyes staring back in a calculating way. “I don’t have all day.”

San blocks the retort his brain produces because he’s certain that the longer he delays this, the bigger and deeper the hole forming in his gut will be. Putting more weight on his palms, he slowly leans forward, unsure whether he should close his eyes now or not. He takes notice of how relaxed Wooyoung is even as the space between them dwindles. Has he been planning this for a while? If so, why? What’s the point of it all?

San doesn’t have time to ponder on those things, though, because the pair of lips he’s dreamed and daydreamed of countless times is but several inches away. Although this isn’t how he’d imagined their first kiss to be, he’d be crazy not to go for it, what with the other’s negative response to his admission. The chance would never manifest again.

He gets nearer, nearer. When the well-defined lines of Wooyoung’s eyes start to get hazy, San takes that as his cue to let his own fall close. His friend has kissed parts of his face (and body) before, so his mouth anticipates the warm softness he’s familiar with.

It doesn’t come. In place of it is warmth, yes, but also firmness and...flatness?

San opens his eyes to find himself kissing not Wooyoung’s mouth but his open palm.

The sly fox has created a wall between their faces with his hand, and although only his brows, eyes, and the bridge of his nose are visible, it’s obvious that he’s grinning like the sadist he is. “What?” he then goes, his voice muffled. “Technically, my hand is still me, isn’t it?”

Despite his shock, San doesn’t have it in him to get angry. After all, this kind of behavior is Wooyoung through and through, so it’s inherently not hurtful or offensive.

But San has had enough of being on the losing end.

It’s about time for him to have the last laugh.

Instead of pulling away, he presses his mouth harder against Wooyoung’s palm, causing a chain reaction that extracts a squeak of protest from the other’s throat. San also places his left hand on his friend’s lower back to pull him closer and prevent him from getting away.

With only one free arm, Wooyoung can’t do much of anything apart from shutting his eyes and accepting the unforeseen consequence of his actions. He lets out a whimper when San, without letting up on the pressure he’s exerting, starts moving his lips against the concave middle of Wooyoung’s palm—a legitimate kiss. The sensation is odd and a touch moist, prompting more noises from the mastermind-turned-victim.

Even though San can be mischievous, he recognizes and respects other people’s limits, unlike his best friend. So when he senses that Wooyoung’s irritation is about to reach the level that’d be especially difficult to appease, he pulls away and lets go of the other. He’s thinking of scrambling to the other side of the room for good measure, but Wooyoung does that himself, getting up from the bed to go to his desk and coughing in drama queen fashion.

“You...are... despicable,” exhales Wooyoung while slowly turning his head to scowl at San.

“Like you’re not,” returns San smugly. Revenge truly is sweet. “You swore to give me a kiss, so I took it in the only way I could.”

“You nearly suffocated me, you jerk!” argues Wooyoung. “What excuse would you have given my mom if I’d died?!”

“I’d have told her you’d forgotten to breathe. I’m sure she would’ve believed me.” San’s joke is met with disapproval from the only audience member in the room. “Okay fine, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have been so aggressive. But you’re still to blame for all this, and I know you’re aware of that.”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue. “At least I was nowhere close to committing homicide.”

San is about to respond when he notices the time on the wall clock. “Shoot, I have to go. I have a group meeting for a Nutrition report. I’ll need your notes again tomorrow.” He places his pens and highlighters inside his yellow pencil case, which he slips into his backpack along with a couple of notebooks and books. As he quickly double-checks the room for any more of his belongings, he sees Wooyoung’s sulky face directed at him and tries not to melt into a puddle of whipped-ass goo right then and there.

Knowing that words are useless at this point, San wears his backpack before approaching his friend and gently pulling him into an embrace. Wooyoung doesn’t hug him back just as he’d expected, and oddly enough, he finds that terribly endearing.

A stranger or a lesser friend would start groveling upon Wooyoung’s lack of response, thinking that it indicates unexpressed anger and requires placation. But San is neither of those types of people, so he takes a different route: he attempts to kiss him again.

“No!” As though on instinct, Wooyoung covers his mouth with his hand in the same manner as before, and San’s lips land on almost the exact spot he’d kissed.

But unlike the first time, San limits the contact to only three seconds, and he knows his tactic has worked because Wooyoung’s lethal glower has diluted down to a fed-up stare.

“Your day of reckoning will come soon, Choi San,” threatens Wooyoung weakly.

“I’ll keep an eye out for it. See ya tomorrow.” San lets go of his friend, walks out of the room, and climbs down the stairs from the third floor to the first to exit the dormitory. There’s a spring in his step, and the idiotic grin on his face refuses to go away.

In the history of their friendship, eight times out of ten it’s Wooyoung who has messed with San. He’s practically a machine gun of jests and mockery, firing round after round of remarks and actions meant to provoke. But now, San has the chance to get back at him for all the times he’s tested San’s patience.

Let Operation: Give Wooyoung A Taste Of His Own Medicine commence.

~

“Shit, shit, shit!” San isn’t one to mutter curses on a daily basis, but he was supposed to be out of the dorm ten minutes ago, yet at this moment he’s only in the process of pulling his black socks on. Due to the lack of time, he lets go of the fact that he’s wearing a mismatched pair and reaches for his phone on the bed prior to shuffling to the front door to put his shoes on, careful not to wake up his roommate and everyone in the two other bedrooms within the unit. For what could be the hundredth time, he wishes he had his own room big enough to be considered a tiny apartment like Wooyoung does, but his parents aren’t as loaded as his best friend’s.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me, San had thought at some point. He prefers someone who’s rich enough to spontaneously fly him to another country for dinner.

Still, he knows that’s nothing but an idea coming from the demon lounging on his shoulder. Wooyoung has never cared about how much money someone has, which is great because it hasn’t gotten in the way of their friendship, though it’s terrible in equal measure because it means Wooyoung’s reason remains a mystery.

San spends the walk to the College of Arts and Humanities building neutralizing his mood. He perks up when he spots three familiar figures sitting on the concrete steps leading to the entrance. Once he’s only a few paces away, Hongjoong grins at him in greeting, and Yeosang raises a hand to give him a small wave.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is busy with his phone, the sounds coming from it indicating that he’s playing the mowing game he’s recently gotten addicted to. San wastes no time in walking up to his best friend, standing a step lower than him, and squatting down so their faces are aligned.

“Goddammit, San!” is the only thing Wooyoung gets to say before his hand flies to his mouth to protect it from San’s own.

When the pseudo-kiss ends, Yeosang’s eyes have turned into saucers, and Hongjoong is downright aghast.

“Do I even want to know what’s up?” asks the latter warily, perhaps afraid that he’s the next target just because he’s sitting beside Wooyoung.

“Ask him,” answers San, squeezing himself between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, who has recovered more quickly this time (despite the pinkish bloom on his cheeks) and is back to manicuring virtual lawns. “Do I look like someone who’ll think of something this stupid?”

“Yes,” replies Yeosang, deadpan. Wooyoung snickers without taking his eyes off the screen.

“You know what, never mind,” says Hongjoong. “I’ve never been able to keep up with all the weird things you two have going on anyway.”

“Weird things—more like mating rituals,” remarks Yunho upon arriving with Jongho, and the two of them don’t bother sitting down. “Mingi called to tell me he and Seonghwa-hyung will just meet us at the restaurant. Their Running class ended a bit late.”

“I still can’t believe they voluntarily chose that 7 AM schedule,” says Wooyoung as he puts his phone away. “I’d only do that at gunpoint.”

“You’re not a morning person like they both are, hyung,” remarks Jongho. “Then again, you’re not a night owl, either.”

“You’re an afternoon cow,” says San, receiving an automatic slap on the arm. “Hey, cows are cute!”

Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him. “You’re a cow.”

“Oh? So you think I’m cute?”

“Alright, that’s enough. I don’t want to lose my appetite,” says Hongjoong before standing up and leading the way to their usual breakfast place every Monday. It’s the only time all of them can have a meal together on weekdays, so they’ve made attendance a must.

Seonghwa and Mingi join them around fifteen minutes later, both freshly showered. The next hour is spent talking about everything from never-ending homework to an upcoming superhero movie they should all see over the weekend to a pretty girl who’s allegedly taken an interest in Jongho.

“Are those wedding bells I hear?” goes Wooyoung.

“That’s probably tinnitus, hyung, so I suggest you have your ears checked,” says Jongho, triggering an explosion of laughter at their table.

Wooyoung naturally leans sideways and giggles with his cheek pressing against the curve of San’s shaking shoulder. He also places his hand on San’s clothed thigh, on the area just above the knee.

San tries his best not to fixate on the soft weight nor the slight fever it comes with, which becomes a grueling task when Wooyoung absentmindedly starts scratching the leg with his fingertips. To distract himself, San takes a long sip of his iced tea in hopes of turning his skull into a refrigerator. The method proves to be effective―until Wooyoung’s hand starts squeezing.

“San-ah, are you sick?” asks Seonghwa from across the table, noticing his younger friend’s grimace. That gives everyone else in the group a reason to look at San.

“No, I’m good,” says San. Thankfully, the hand innocently assaulting him has returned to a relaxed state. “Brain freeze.”

“I think you’re the only twenty-year-old I know who still gets brain freezes,” teases Wooyoung as he grabs San’s paper cup and helps himself to the cold beverage. A couple of seconds later, he winces upon the manifestation of a headache.

“Now you know two.”

“I feel like you’re both morphing into the same person as the days go by,” remarks Mingi. “There’s hardly any difference between your personalities these days.”

“Wooyoung’s always been like this,” comments Yeosang, “but San-ah, you’ve changed a lot since you first moved here from Namhae.”

“I miss tiny, shy, respectful San,” says Hongjoong with an exaggerated sigh. “He was so wholesome, a literal angel on earth clothed in glitter and innocence—but of course he ended up latching onto the only emissary of discord in our group.” He gives said diplomat the stink eye to further emphasize his feelings toward the matter.

Wooyoung smirks. “That label’s an upgrade from the ‘turbulent banana’ one you gave me last week, which, by the way, still doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It may not make sense, but it’s accurate,” says Yunho, clearly amused.

“I hate to break up this profound discussion,” goes Seonghwa, “but those with 9:30 classes have to leave right now.”

“I wish you weren’t such a timekeeper,” complains Wooyoung, one of the five affected by the statement. “Because of you, I’m never late for Anthropology every Monday.”

“Are you sarcastically thanking me for your punctuality?”

“I’m sincerely hating you for making me seem eager for the most boring class in my entire schedule this semester.”

“Here’s something to cheer you up.” San pulls Wooyoung by the waist to give him a goodbye kiss. Thanks to Wooyoung’s reflexes, it’s yet another lips-to-palm encounter, and as expected, it draws equal amounts of horror and fascination from their crew and several other people nearby.

“Someone please give me a time machine so I can stop San from ever bumping into Wooyoung!” wails Hongjoong.

~

By the third week of the almost daily ‘handsy kisses,’ as Yunho the pun lover prefers to call them, the gang has acclimated to the duo’s behavior. Even when things get a bit feisty every time Wooyoung decides to resist, the others don’t bat an eyelash. In some situations, people’s natural ability to become numb to even the most unpleasant circumstances is a gift that keeps on giving.

A month in, it’s Wooyoung’s turn to accept his fate. San is made aware of this as he and his best friend, along with Jongho and Mingi, are at the Main Library, each studying for a different exam.

“I think my head’s about to explode with all these terms I have to memorize,” remarks Mingi upon removing his reading glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “Tests should have a physical counterpart for those who are better at dealing with sports and stuff.”

“You mean instead of completing a written test, you’d rather run on an obstacle course?” asks San.

“Hell yeah. Intelligence is multifaceted, so it’s unfair to subject all students to an exam that measures only linguistic or logical-mathematical intelligence when a lot of them are smart in other ways.”

Wooyoung lifts his eyes from the open book in front of him to say, “Mingi-ya, I so love it when your passion for something makes you more articulate. You know that, right?”

“That has some validity to it,” says Jongho while nodding. “It essentially puts everyone on the same playing field. But still, isn’t that why there are different subjects in the first place, even now that we’re in college? For instance, I’ve aced all my Physical Education units so far, and Hongjoong-hyung got out of the Duckpin Bowling class we had together with a close-to-failing grade. But when we both took Creative Writing, he was at the top of his game.”

“Well yeah, but the ratio of subjects meant for textbook intellectuals and those for non-textbook intellectuals is way off balanced,” asserts Mingi. “No matter how you look at it, the current education system favors individuals who can cram information into their brains and comprehend intangible concepts like numbers.”

“I can feel a nosebleed coming on, but I’m learning so much more from this debate than my readings,” comments San.

With a thoughtful expression, Jongho makes eye contact with Mingi and smiles at him. “You’re right, hyung—it’s terribly unkind to a lot of students. And that’s what friends are for: to help you get through life, whether you’re dealing with a trivial matter or an institutional anomaly.”

“The vocabulary game at this table right now is too strong for me to handle,” remarks Wooyoung. “I appreciate the brotherly drama, though. Five stars, a tour de force, likely to become a classic.”

“Let me know how the season finale goes,” says San, at the same time gathering his coil-bound books.

Mingi raises both eyebrows in curiosity. “How come your class is earlier today?”

“In place of a lecture, the professor’s making us watch a play, and then we have to write a paper on it,” explains San, slowly pushing his wooden chair back to free himself. “Theater’s not my cup of tea, so I need to get a seat near the stage if I want to stay awake for the entire thing.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you dissing theater,” says Jongho.

“Oops, sorry. I forgot you’re into that now.” San picks up his black cap from the table and is ready to put it on when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wooyoung still reading but with his hand raised to his mouth. It’s his first time to prepare for the kiss in advance and be extremely calm about it, too. San has to admit that the most enjoyable part of the whole thing is Wooyoung’s consistent defiance, but his submission is just as, if not more, pleasing and satisfying to watch.

San walks past Jongho and goes to the other side of the desk. Bending down slightly, he uses the side of his index finger to gently lift Wooyoung’s face by the chin prior to executing the handsy kiss. But out of interest, San keeps his eyes open just enough for him to check on something, and he takes delight in the discovery that his best friend’s eyes are no longer squeezed shut but closed in a relaxed manner.

Like he would if this were a real kiss, thinks San. He puts slightly more pressure on Wooyoung’s palm for a fraction of a second and draws himself away.

“Have fun,” says Wooyoung in a whisper.

“That’s impossible without you, Young-ah.” His cap in place, San strolls out of the building and smiles at the cool gust of wind that welcomes him outdoors. Out of all the possible outcomes of his scheme, subservience from Wooyoung is the last thing he’d expected, or at least he hadn’t thought it would come so fast. To get the other to yield to anything, you’d have to either catch him in an extra-upbeat mood or cater to his whims first, and San doesn’t remember meeting either requirement.

Something’s up with Wooyoung, though for the life of him, San can’t put his finger—or his mouth—on it.

~

“Have you told Wooyoungie about this?” is the first thing Yunho says after three seconds of silence.

San shakes his head. “It happened only a couple of hours ago, so...”

“None of the other guys know about it?”

Another shake. “It’s not like it’s worth announcing on the group chat.”

“San-ah, you leave multiple incoherent messages and badly taken photos and videos on the group chat every time you spot a random fat cat or a shaggy dog.”

“Those are newsworthy!” asserts San.

“...Touché.” Yunho leans back on the bench and crosses his arms before asking, “Aren’t you smitten with Wooyoung?”

San feels his cheeks and neck heating up. “W-what’s that got to do with this?”

“Does this mean you’ll stop pursuing him?”

Despite passing all his pre-calculus tests in high school, San has a hard time figuring out the answer to Yunho’s question. The thought of giving up completely has yet to cross his mind, what with the unwavering strength of his attraction to his closest friend. But given the confession he’s received, perhaps he should consider it, even if the mere idea is tying seemingly endless knots in his chest.

“I dunno,” says San, choosing to look at the pavement rather than his companion. “I no longer remember the feeling of not wanting him.”

One of the best things about talking to Yunho about personal concerns is that he isn’t prone to pity or judgment, which is why it brings San plenty of comfort to just hear him say, “Whatever you decide to do, make sure to prioritize your happiness, no one else’s. And you may be as loyal as they come, but sometimes change is the better option if you welcome it.”

San purses his lips and nods in acknowledgement. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Yunyun.”

After a few minutes, Yunho leaves to have dinner with his family at a restaurant, and San stays put instead of going back inside his dorm. Upon taking out his phone, he opens Kakaotalk to start a chat with the newest contact on his list. But he doesn’t type or send anything. He only focuses on the profile photo of the girl who’d approached him earlier. There’s nothing wrong with her looks; she has gentle eyes, a petite nose, straight teeth, shoulder-length hair, and a small oval face. Basically, she’s attractive in every sense of the word.

Yet for all her comeliness, San is incapable of associating the word ‘beautiful’ and all of its synonyms with anyone but Wooyoung. Sure, he knows when a person is physically appealing, but only Wooyoung has the power to draw him in akin to a moth to a flame, a bee to a blossom. And it’s not because of the other’s appearance alone. His unpredictability, intensity, and the sheer unbridled force of his existence form the remaining three walls of the enclosure preventing San from appreciating another with equal vehemence.

“Is it alright if I...think about it first?”

That’s what he’d told the girl, and she’d been quick to accept it, her smile conveying hope.

It’s a mirror image of his own yearning.

~

Among everyone in their group, Wooyoung is part of the most number of school organizations: one for dance, a second for football, and another for cooking. Every now and then, all three groups would hold events in the same week, so San doesn’t get to see his best friend for a while. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d seek companionship from any of their six other friends or a handful of his classmates. But to hit two birds—fight off loneliness and become more acquainted with his admirer—with one stone, he decides to spend his free time with Lee Suyeon.

“It’s not a date,” counters San when Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi tease him after he reveals what he’s up to over the weekend. It’s been days since the confession, and nearly the entire gang has found out about it. Wooyoung is still missing in action, and he hasn’t been reading online messages, either. “I just want to see if we’ll get along.”

“That’s what you do on a first date,” says Mingi, his gummy grin bigger than ever. “Are you taking her to a movie?”

“No, I said we could have lunch and then coffee, perhaps go to Gallery Koo. I chose places where we could talk.”

“Talk now, get busy later,” comments Yeosang, the neutrality of his tone adding more suggestiveness that makes Seonghwa and Mingi laugh and causes San to cringe.

“We. Are. Not. Dating,” insists San with his teeth clenched.

But when Saturday afternoon comes and Suyeon arrives at their meeting spot wearing a short, off-white chiffon dress, a denim jacket, and a pair of beige ankle boots, San in his very plain and very black hoodie-jeans-sneakers ensemble starts thinking that perhaps his concept of dating is a bit off.

“You look great,” he says, more out of politeness than anything.

“You, too,” returns Suyeon with a sweet smile, “as always.”

“...Thanks.” So he doesn’t have to offer another insincere compliment, San goes to the half glass door of the bistro and pushes it open. Upon entering the establishment, Suyeon marvels at the dark industrial ceiling, hanging pendant lights, beech wood tables, black metal chairs, and potted parlor palms towering over everything. “I’m guessing you haven’t been here?” asks San with a mild snicker.

“I never even knew there was a place like this,” answers Suyeon, still checking out the details of the interior design. “It’s really nice. And chic!”

“It is,” agrees San. He then chooses a two-seater table beside one of the floor-to-ceiling French windows and pulls a chair for his companion. Once he’s also seated, the two of them browse the menu, which amazes Suyeon yet again because of the prices. “That’s one of the best things about this place: they serve fancy yet affordable food, which is the reason I come here at least twice a month.”

“With your friends?”

“Yeah. Well, one of them. My best friend. He was the one who first brought me here.”

“You’re talking about Wooyoung-ssi, right?”

San slightly raises his eyebrows. “You’ve met him?”

“No, but he’s very popular among the other History majors I know. They say he’s charismatic and funny and, I quote, ‘so handsome he’s blinding.’”

Calm down, San has to tell himself. Don’t rant about his gorgeous face or his tantalizing aura or his bright personality or the fact that you’re over the moon for him and your world stops when— “He’s definitely all that, but I can summarize him in four words: an annoying red raccoon,” he says without a hint of panic or infatuation.

Suyeon giggles. “You seem very fond of him.”

“‘Fond’ doesn’t quite cut it,” remarks San, not bothering to elaborate lest he reveals something he’d rather keep private. “But enough about him. Tell me more about yourself, Suyeon-ssi.”

“I’ll gladly do that after we order. I skipped breakfast ‘coz I thought I wouldn’t fit in this dress.”

San beams in amusement and raises a hand to get the waiter’s attention. “You’ll need that extra room for all the good food they serve.”

“You might have to roll me out of here later, then.”

The ridiculous image has San laughing in an instant.

~

“There’s our Korean Romeo,” declares Hongjoong when the following evening San meets up with him, Yunho, Jongho, and Seonghwa at a samgyeopsal restaurant near the university. “Two dates in a row—is that a new record for you?”

“It wasn’t a date,” states San as he sits down at the circular table between Seonghwa and Yunho. “She’s a lot of fun, though.”

Yunho whistles. “That has to be the highest praise you’ve given to someone who isn’t Wooyoung.”

“She’s a friend. No more, no less.”

“Does she know that?” asks Seonghwa before taking a sip of his beer. Jongho coughs at the question.

“You have to make your intentions clear, San-ah,” remarks Hongjoong, “unless of course you yourself have no idea what they are.”

Rather than providing an explanation or insight, San hastily fills a lettuce leaf with small pieces of grilled pork and kimchi prior to stuffing it in his mouth. He figures that doing so would give him a bit of time to think, but that plan somersaults out the window when Wooyoung suddenly appears at the entrance, sees the group, and starts walking toward the table.

“I may have told him where we are,” says Seonghwa under his breath. “I wasn’t aware he was coming.”

“Ya, where’s our giant princess and middle-class prince?” asks Wooyoung the second he reaches them.

“Paper due at midnight and planned bonding time with his sister, respectively,” answers Hongjoong. “Why’re you here? We thought you had practice for the dance showcase.”

“It ended early, unfortunately for you,” teases Wooyoung, who grabs a chair from the vacant table next to theirs and orders everyone to adjust so he can sit to San’s right. “Are you paying for this, hyung?”

“Since you asked, I’ll pay for everyone’s share except yours.”

“Damn, that’s frigid. I can tell you’ve missed me with all your heart.” Wooyoung ignores Hongjoong’s exaggerated gagging noises to look at his best friend. “Hey, boo. Why’re you giving me the silent treatment?” San points at his own bulging cheek. “I don’t accept that as a valid excuse.” Although he’s already taken San’s chopsticks to prepare a wrap, he puts them back down and says, “Oh, I nearly forgot.”

Before San can figure out what’s going on, Wooyoung initiates the mouth-hand kiss.

The sensation is the same, and so are the two people involved. But it catches San off-guard nonetheless. He hadn’t intended for the joke slash revenge to turn into a habit of sorts or become their version of a fist bump. He’d been thinking of stopping it for the sake of preserving their friendship in case Wooyoung has been secretly holding a grudge against him. Now, though, he has no idea what to make of this scenario, especially since the rest of the group is equally stunned by the turn of events.

“What’s up with the staring?” asks Wooyoung when he and San separate. Their tablemates resume eating instead of answering. “Weirdos.”

As usual, the meal is a boisterous affair, with everyone loosening up because of the alcohol they’re consuming. Only Jongho and Yunho have the tolerance to drink soju and function properly in class the next day. While Seonghwa and Hongjoong have two bottles of beer each, San shares a can with Wooyoung, something they’ve done since San’s first and last hangover that had been triggered by 355 mL of 4.5% alcohol.

San doesn’t bring up Suyeon, so neither does anybody else. He eventually forgets about the matter as most of his senses are occupied by his best friend. Perhaps Wooyoung’s absence is a significant factor, but San is more captivated by him than ever, the need to touch and compliment him overflowing. And when the mini get-together concludes, it’s as if someone has scooped out the contents of his rib cage as the reality that Wooyoung will be out of his reach again hits.

“After this week, I’ll experience emancipation,” says Wooyoung to San. They’d volunteered to collect money from the others and stay behind to pay at the counter. “Being this busy was a lot easier when we were freshmen.”

“You can always drop one of them,” advises San after handing the cash to the staff, “but that’d be a bit unusual for you.”

“Giving up isn’t part of my vocabulary.”

“Competitiveness is the only entry in the Jung Wooyoung Dictionary. You enjoy one-upping the sunbaes in your orgs way too much.”

“What can I say, I’m addicted to serotonin.”

San thanks the cashier once he gives him the change. “You should find other sources.” He nudges Wooyoung’s shoulder with his own to prompt him to start heading for the exit.

“Why do you think I’m here talking to you?” asks Wooyoung with a straight face.

Not being exposed to his best friend’s flirtations for several days has weakened San’s immunity to them to some degree. Still, he’s able to maintain his composure due to years of practice. “I’m not buying you ice cream with the money in my hand.”

“Dang it, you know me too well, San-ah.” Wooyoung pulls one of the glass doors and holds it open for San. “Maybe we should take a break from this friendship for half a decade so my methods of persuasion will work on you again.”

A week is torture enough. “Sometimes I wonder if your ideas come from your brain or your appendix.”

“Neither. They come from my juicy, plump ass,” answers Wooyoung just as they’re earshot of the group.

“I worry about all the private conversations you two have,” remarks Jongho, his facial features devoid of emotion.

“It’s best to tune them out,” says Yunho. “I’ve heard them talk about everything from alien probing to the anatomy of cat penises.”

“They’re barbed!” San and Wooyoung say at the same time in the same defensive tone.

“That’s not the best explanation for why you had to discuss and look at pictures of them for fifteen minutes straight while we were supposed to be doing homework.”

“Excuse me, but that was not fifteen minutes,” argues Wooyoung. “It was closer to twelve.”

“We should all call it a night,” interrupts Seonghwa. “San-ah, kiss Wooyoungie goodbye.”

“Which of my bills are you paying that gives you the right to tell me what to do?” demands San, causing Wooyoung to let out his tickled fox laugh and hit his best friend’s shoulder in pure enjoyment. Seonghwa can do nothing but give San a weak glare, likely knowing that saying anything else would only land him in deeper bullying territory.

“Kiss me, my beloved heart,” says Wooyoung in what seems to be his bedroom voice.

San blinks. “You need not ask, my love.”

The cheesiness of it all, not the kiss that takes place, sets off various noises of disgust among the other four men.

But before Wooyoung joins Seonghwa and Hongjoong to return to their dorm, he takes San by the wrist and pulls him to the side. San is, for the third time that day, caught off guard by his best friend.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” whispers Wooyoung.

At first, San’s mind comes up blank, but it’s suddenly bombarded with Suyeon’s name, followed by a tidal wave of guilt. He could’ve casually mentioned her while the two of them were at the cashier; after all, Wooyoung’s the only person left in the group who isn’t updated on the whole thing. Though San’s forgetfulness can be to blame, he knows that a large part of him isn’t ready to divulge the situation to his best friend. But that presents a bigger problem: how would he explain his hesitation to inform Wooyoung about Suyeon? They’ve exchanged secrets for years, so what makes this one any different? And it’s not like he’s dating Suyeon, though even if he were, he shouldn’t keep the truth from the person he’s closest to in the world.

When San prepares to say something along the lines of bullshit, Wooyoung beats him to the punch.

“Is it really that hard for you to admit you’ve missed ogling my handsome face?”

The nervous chill in San’s body immediately dissipates, allowing him to answer with, “What I haven’t missed is your overinflated ego that can carry the house in Up.”

“The insult isn’t appreciated, but the excellent movie reference is,” remarks Wooyoung before taking backward steps to where his dormmates are. “I’ll see you again soon, alright?”

San responds with a nod and watches on as Wooyoung walks away flanked by their older friends. It’s only then that he becomes honest enough to acknowledge how much he’s missed the other and to recognize the dread of having to go through the next five days without him.

In contrast, his desire to let Wooyoung know about Suyeon is nonexistent.

~

Since his Mondays are often jam-packed with classes, San passes up on Suyeon’s invitation to eat lunch together, but they meet up the next day to talk over snacks at the convenience store.

Though they’ve only known each other for a short time, San finds it comfortable to converse with Suyeon, and their personalities seem to match well given that she can easily go along with his offbeat remarks and jokes. She’d be as compatible with San as Wooyoung is if not for the fact that she has—at least in San’s point of view—unpalatable characteristics, which range from disliking mint chocolate to sleeping with one pillow and zero plushies. Still, they’re trivial enough for him to ignore, and what matters anyway is that he enjoys her company.

“You’re a hard man to reach these days, San-ah,” remarks Mingi when he and Yunho arrive at the main gate of the university. “There’s a line in Brokeback Mountain that’s appropriate for this situation… Give me a sec to recall it...”

“‘You used to come away easy; now it's like seeing the Pope,’” supplies Yunho with a matching pained expression. Mingi instantly gives him a high five. “Great movie.”

“Neither of you were free to hang out yesterday!” protests San.

“That’s beside the point,” says Mingi, slight irritation in his voice. “If you really wanted to spend time with us, you would’ve insisted on it without contacting Suyeon.”

“...You know you’re a lot worse at lying than me, right?”

Mingi shrugs at Yunho. “I told you you’d be more convincing than me.”

Yunho, whose smile couldn’t be wider, responds with, “I’ll do all the lying from now on. But anyway, we’ve missed you, San-ah. It was too quiet last Monday during breakfast without you and Wooyoungie. Your combined unruliness makes a huge difference in conversations.”

“I’ll plan for us to cause a pandemonium next week, just you wait,” says San, grinning. “We’ll try not to disappoint.”

When the three of them start walking to the coffee shop that’s only five minutes away from the campus, San thinks about how Wooyoung’s schedule would be normalizing soon, which would mean that they’re bound to spend a lot of time together again. He has no idea what would happen to him and Suyeon then, and if he were to find a way for her to meet Wooyoung, the latter might find it suspicious that San hasn’t talked about her at all. Explaining his side when even he doesn’t understand himself isn’t something that San wants to do, more so if his audience is his newest friend and his most enduring companion.

That’s another thing: while he’s aware that Suyeon is after a lot more than friendship with him, San can’t bring himself to tell her that he doesn’t see her as a potential romantic partner. What’s worse is he doesn’t have an explanation for that, either. The heart knows what it wants and doesn’t want is cliche and cringey, and the classic it’s not you—it’s me would still warrant elaboration. The best course of action, therefore, is to steer clear of the topic. For now. Until the end of time. Crap.

The coffee date with the giants takes San’s mind off of the dilemma he’s facing, and he doesn’t have time to get back to it because of homework and exhaustion. He passes out on his bed just minutes after taking a warm shower, but before that happens, he hears the Kakaotalk notification sound on his phone. 

More asleep than awake, he fumbles with his phone in the dark until the app fills the screen. He fully recognizes the name and photo. But even if the message is short, it registers in his mind only for the briefest of moments and fades into nothing along with his consciousness.

I wish

~

“How do you even find time to exercise?” asks Hongjoong with his mouth half full of yogurt. “The only workout I can do these days is walking to get to my classes.”

Jongho shrugs. “I go to the gym at the same hour every day no matter what. It’s become a habit.”

“I set multiple alarms,” answers Yeosang, “and I call Jongho whenever I skip a workout so he’ll know to drag me to the gym the following day.”

“I usually give him a piggyback ride so I can warm up on the way. I carried him bridal style once. Never again.”

“He may have suffered, but I felt like a queen for ten minutes with so many strangers looking at us.”

“That was way more information than I asked for,” remarks Hongjoong, who looks at San. “You work out, too, don’t you?”

“Not for the past two weeks,” admits San.

“Is it Wooyoung?”

As much as he wants the reason to be something else entirely, he opts for honesty and goes, “Yeah, but only because he forces me to accompany him so he can stay in shape for soccer. I never go on my own.”

“He shouldn’t be drinking too much if he wants to keep the weight off,” comments Yeosang.

“On a school night, too,” says Hongjoong in agreement.

San is confusion personified. “He went drinking? When? With whom?”

“Last night with his soccer buddies. Lucky for you he didn’t call you—he ranted about how ‘mysteriously fascinating’ it is that French fries with mayo are disgusting but when you add ketchup to the mix the dish is ‘a culinary miracle.’”

“He butt-dialed me at the karaoke bar,” says Jongho. “He sounded like a dying whale with diarrhea. I regret not recording it for all of us to enjoy.”

“He beatboxed and rapped about being the best chef since time immemorial,” adds Yeosang. “It deserved a Grammy, in my opinion.”

Something dawns on San. “Wait, I think he contacted me, too.” Upon checking his phone, he sees that Wooyoung had indeed sent him a message around the hour he’d slept, but it’s been deleted. “Okay, this could be a drunk text, except he was sober enough to take it back.”

I wish

San isn’t sure if his mind’s playing with him, so he ignores the image it’s showing him.

“The best-friend-and-aspiring-boyfriend privilege is real,” remarks Hongjoong.

“He’s never done this before, though, especially not when he’s drunk. He’s sent me the most blackmail-worthy photos in history, and not once did he unsend any of them.”

“You should ask him about it, hyung,” suggests Jongho. “I mean one of his hobbies on any given day is terrorizing you, so it’s unlike him to leave you in peace and bother everyone else.”

“I’ll do that,” says San, his friend’s observation causing him to wonder about Wooyoung’s behavior. Of course there are days when Wooyoung is calm and quiet, when he’s the eye of the storm instead of the eyewall. But if there’s one person he can never seem to leave alone, it’s San. By default, San receives the most attention from his best friend, be it the good kind or the irritating kind, so he should figure out what triggered the sudden glitch in Wooyoung’s matrix.

The opportunity to investigate comes when San wakes up to a message from Wooyoung on Saturday morning.

Dinner at 6 at my place, bub? Everyone’s coming

San sits up in case his understanding of the situation is wrong due to sleepiness. Unfortunately, he’s right: Wooyoung has invited him last, which isn’t a normal occurrence. But even if this alarms him further, he can’t do much else except reply to the invitation.

You already know my answer :3

With hours to spare, San does his chores—laundry, grocery run, and room cleaning—after breakfast and his homework after lunch. The closer evening gets, the more distracted and restless he becomes. He can’t even decide on what to wear, so he grabs the first shirt (white with short sleeves), jacket (black leather), and pants (black, slim cargo) he spots in his closet and leaves thirty minutes earlier than he has to so he can have a bit of time to talk to his best friend privately.

He almost forgets his agenda when Wooyoung answers the door looking squish-worthy in an oversized orange sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black shorts.

“I’ve missed your perfume,” says Wooyoung upon embracing San, who’s in the middle of removing his shoes. “I give you permission to roll around on my bed so it’ll smell like you.”

“It’s gonna smell like dirt if you don’t let me take off my sneakers first.”

Wooyoung laughs, releases him, and walks away. “I ordered pizzas, and Yeosangie volunteered to get chicken. The oldies are in charge of the dessert and drinks, nothing alcoholic.”

Bingo. “Are they prohibiting you from drinking ‘coz of what happened last Thursday?” asks San as he goes further inside the room and sits on the two-seater sofa opposite the bed. There’s a stack of four pizza boxes right beside him.

“We should get new non-party pooper friends as soon as possible,” says Wooyoung, seated at his desk while facing San, “but I think you haven’t had a problem doing that without me.”

San feels his heart skip. He refuses to budge, however, hoping that the other isn’t talking about what San assumes he is. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Wooyoung stares at him like a judge before a guilty defendant. “I didn’t find out from the group chat. Several days after you revealed it online, Hongjoongie-hyung went to the College of Home Economics building to meet up with a friend, and it so happened I was there for my org meeting. We were just talking, and then he asked me what I thought of a person named Suyeon confessing to you, thinking that I’d already seen your messages.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I know you’re aware that I don’t check social media when I’m busy, and I’ve told you not to go looking for me, so I didn’t mind it. I then went out of my way to see you to give you a chance to let me in on the secret yourself. But you didn’t.”

“Don’t you have something to tell me?”

San swallows air as the aura in the room shifts. “Young-ah—”

“Why have you been hiding this from me?”

It’s the same question that’s been plaguing San, and until now he can’t justify it. The hurt pronounced on his friend’s face prevents him from saying anything other than, “I don’t know.”

Seemingly deeming San’s response to be truthful, Wooyoung asks, “Is she your girlfriend now?”

“No,” answers San quickly, almost in panic. “We’re just friends.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. “Well that makes it worse, doesn’t it? Because why would you not inform me about something so simple?” When San doesn’t say anything, Wooyoung’s vexation rises and seeps into his voice. “What kind of person keeps things from their best friend?”

I wish I

“I’m not the only one with secrets,” returns San in a tone challenging Wooyoung’s. “What was the message you sent me the night you got drunk?”

Though it happens subtly, Wooyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, and San catches the movement.

“Cat got your tongue, Young-ah?”

“You’re not exactly a master of answering questions, either, San-ah,” says Wooyoung in between gritted teeth. Frustrated, he gets up from the chair and takes a few steps to put more distance between the two of them. He doesn’t turn to face San. “God you piss me off.”

“You piss me off!” snaps San, also standing up. “I don’t have to tell you everything that’s going on in my life. You have a lot of friends I’ve never met before, and you haven’t seen me fussing about it.”

Wooyoung whips around and argues, “That’s different! I don’t introduce those people to you and our common friends because you guys don’t have to know who they are. And I don’t deliberately single you out like what you’re doing to me right now.”

“Well maybe I decided that you in particular don’t have to know about Suyeon, so you should respect that.”

“Why should I when it doesn’t make sense for you to leave me out of it?”

San smirks. “What about the way you get jealous when I frequently hang out with someone?”

Disbelief washes over Wooyoung’s features. “Oh, so now you’ll start unearthing stupid things I did years ago. That’s rich. I was a kid, I was hormonal, and you kept going to Yunho’s house without inviting me.”

“You could’ve tagged along on your own accord—we met him at the same time!”

“Yeah, I could’ve,” agrees Wooyooung in a softer tone, “but I didn’t know if you even wanted me there because you were having so much fun with him.”

San takes a second to absorb the other’s words before saying, “My happiness with another person doesn’t invalidate my happiness with you.”

“Then stop making me feel out of place!” yells Wooyoung, flustered with anger. “You shouldn’t have secrets that only I don’t know about!”

“Why do you care so much anyway? Whom I spend my time with is none of your business, even if you’re my best friend!”

“It’s entirely my business! I can’t stand not knowing something as important as people who’ve confessed to you!”

“It’s not that important!”

“It is!” insists Wooyoung.

“Why would it matter to you if you rejected me?!”

“It matters because I like you!”

San freezes. Every negative feeling is vacuumed out of his body by some unknown force, and all that’s left is an amalgam of shock and bewilderment. He thinks that perhaps he’d unknowingly fallen asleep on the couch and all this is happening in his head, just another one of his lovesick fantasies that have no place in reality. Everything about the situation is so impossible that he’s already on the verge of jumping out the window to be able to wake up. Wooyoung’s next words, however, tether him to the ground.

“Believe it or not, I turned you down because…I didn’t want to lose you.”

I love every part of you.

“I’ve seen too many couples who started out as close friends, even closer than we are, and they ended up being bitter exes despite everything they’d built between them.”

You’re beautiful inside and out, and I cherish you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you that way, San-ah. I can’t lose you in any way, so I chose the safer path.”

But friendship’s all I can give you right now.

For San, the pain of rejection had been his heart, a supernova once ablaze with blind hope, suddenly collapsing in on itself and leaving a void meant to destroy the rest of him. Although the anguish has diminished, he remembers it clearly, a wound reopened. “You hurt me,” he says. “A lot.” While he wants to convey exactly what he’d been through in order to make Wooyoung feel guilty, he doesn’t have the strength for it, and doing so would be pointless at best.

“I know,” admits Wooyoung, “but I only thought of myself at that time. How it’d affect you just crossed my mind afterward, and you seemed fine when I went to see you next, so I figured I could get away with not making amends.” He looks down at the ground, his posture heavy with regret. “I didn’t want to lose you then, but I’m losing you now. I’m really stupid. And selfish.”

Even without hearing the words ‘I’m sorry,’ San recognizes the apology. He observes the other in silence, taking in his genuinely contrite expression. Even in that state, Wooyoung’s radiance remains—he’s still the sun lighting up the sky of San’s life.

And then it hits him. The true reason he’d been secretive toward no one but Wooyoung.

He deems it so foolish that he starts laughing quietly into his hand, which Wooyoung finds absurd considering the situation.

“Are…are you okay, San-ah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” answers San in between giggles. “It’s just… Oh god, Mingi was totally right about us being the same.”

A small frown of perplexity appears on Wooyoung’s face. “What do you mean?”

San takes a deep breath to compose himself and says, “I didn’t tell you about Suyeon because I couldn’t bring myself to accept that you didn’t like me back. I was still hoping that you’d change your mind, so I didn’t want you to think that I was going after someone else. And when you didn’t, the attention I got from Suyeon made me feel better. I didn’t turn her down because I wanted to retain the possibility of being with her in case I give up on you for good. Basically, I’m as selfish as you are, Young-ah.”

After a long pause, Wooyoung sighs. “We’re horrible people.”

“I think we’re just idiots,” remarks San. “Dumb and Dumber, as Hongjoongie-hyung puts it.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands between his fingers. A nervous habit. “What do we do now?” he asks.

“Well, I’ll talk to Suyeon tomorrow and tell her the truth. She’s an amazing person, so she deserves to be with someone whose mind isn’t always…preoccupied.” San takes one step forward.

Picking up on the other’s cues, Wooyoung goes, “Then what?”

A second step. “Since we’re in the present, we should focus on that, don’t you think?” Wooyoung nods. “Perhaps you can start things off by confessing to me properly.” And another.

“I already did, and it’s all you’re getting from me,” says Wooyoung with a teasing smile.

Mischief has never looked more mesmerizing.

“In that case,” purrs San as he takes a couple more steps to reduce the space between them to a handbreadth, “we can move on to the interesting part.” Though he appears poised on the outside, his inner workings are going haywire. Years of pining have come down to this moment.

“As I’ve told you before, I’m not easy.”

“I’ve known that since day one, and it hasn’t deterred me. You gotta do better than that.”

Wooyoung holds San’s gaze as though he’s formulating a scheme. It wouldn’t be strange for him to take everything back and say it’s all one big gag, which is why San steels himself for the possible blow.

But it could be that the universe has decided to be a bit kind for once because Wooyoung says, “I’ll let you do the one thing that’s slipped your mind today.”

“Which is…?”

Slowly, Wooyoung lifts his right hand until it’s covering the lower half of his face. “Baby steps, San-ah.”

The grin that shows up on San’s face is one of amusement and affection. “Jung Wooyoung, you truly are my favorite nuisance.” With that, San proceeds with the handsy kiss, doing it gently this time and lingering for some seconds. But when he pulls back, he makes it so that there are mere inches separating them and stays that way even as the other drops his hand.

“You’re delusional if you think I’m gonna kiss you,” whispers Wooyoung without breaking eye contact.

“What if I say that all I’m here for is the chance to bask in your loveliness up close?”

The remark causes Wooyoung to let out a wide smile. “Still the worst. Liar. Ever.” Without another word, he eliminates the gap between them, catching San’s lips with his own and holding on to San’s strong shoulders.

San returns the kiss with the same eagerness, sliding the tip of his tongue along Wooyoung’s bottom lip before slipping it inside the warm mouth that’s now producing the subtlest moans. At first he holds Wooyoung steady by the hips, but as things get more heated, San becomes bold enough to move his hands underneath the sweatshirt to stroke the smooth skin of Wooyoung’s lower back.

“Bed. Now,” orders Wooyoung without breaking the kiss.

Since every piece of furniture is right against the walls, blindly navigating themselves to the bed shouldn’t be a problem. However, the combination of their innate clumsiness and sexual enthusiasm gets in the way, causing San to trip against Wooyoung’s feet and land on his behind. 

“This works, too,” chuckles Wooyoung, who by some miracle has ended up straddling San during their tumble. He wastes no time in continuing the kiss, his hands on either side of San’s neck. The position they’re in makes it easy for San to cup Wooyoung’s ass and give it a slight squeeze.

Thump, thump, thump.

San and Wooyoung instantly turn their heads toward the locked door.

“Wooyoung-ah, we’re here,” announces Seonghwa from the other side, his voice muffled by the thick barrier. “I forgot your passcode.”

“Hurry up ‘coz I can’t stand holding these repulsive mint chocolate cookies you asked for,” whines Hongjoong.

“We really should let them in,” remarks San halfheartedly. “Your neighbors might complain.”

“‘I wish I’d made you mine sooner,’” says Wooyoung out of nowhere.

San blushes, caught unawares. “W-wha…?”

“That was the message I deleted. I typed it, and I wasn’t going to send it, but drunk me had other plans. I’ll try to be more in control next time.”

“Oh. Don’t worry,” says San with a reassuring smile. “I like drunk you, sober you, every you.”

“...You are not to leave this room tonight until we’re both no longer virgins,” says Wooyoung, further rattling his best friend.

Thump, thump!

“Hyung, pick up your phone if you’re still alive in there,” goes Jongho.

“Alright, geez!” calls out Wooyoung before getting up from the floor. He then holds out his hand to San. “Shall we annoy our dearest friends by being the sappiest couple in recorded history?”

Beaming and elated, San takes Wooyoung’s hand and says, “I’m in!”