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Wooyoung didn’t understand the appeal behind rebounds and friends with benefits before San. He thought it was a stupid, shallow way to ignore the leftover love and hurt after a break up and avoid actually processing that grief, covering it up with lust instead. He’s never been that kind of a person either– Wooyoung has always been the person encouraging everyone around him including himself to feel their feelings, to let the hurting happen for a while.
Of course, Wooyoung, like most people, is a massive hypocrite. Here he is, barely feeling the feelings he still has for his last lover, Yeonjun, by day and falling into San’s bed almost every night. Even as the anger and the grief cling to him, tears welling up in his eyes every time he thinks about what he and Yeonjun could have been, Wooyoung shoves it down under his lust for San.
Is this what he really wants? Of course it’s not. What Wooyoung really wants right now is support, and love, and affection, and someone to show him everything he hasn’t been shown for months . He loves himself, obviously, but he also wants to be loved by someone else, and he wants to feel that love too. But for now, a rebound will have to do. Some sex is doing him good; physical intimacy, lust, distractions, distractions, distractions. It’s not a coping mechanism– or at least not a healthy one– but it’s something , and it’s better than the shitty leftover strings of love and grief still attached to his heart that he can’t seem to shake.
Even though his romantic feelings for Yeonjun seem to have faded fast enough, Wooyoung still feels empty . There wasn’t a lot of love in their relationship when it ended– both of them were too overwhelmed with their own lives and problems to truly be able to love each other. Now Wooyoung just feels cold, and he hates it. He hates feeling like he wants to lean on someone else again, to open his heart up and let someone else take it gently into their hands. He doesn’t want that, but at the same time that is all he wants. Maybe it’s just because he wants someone to prove him wrong, to prove that he is loveable, and worthy of effort and affection. Wooyoung wants to be asked on dates, and cared for, and pampered in all the ways he has never been.
He can’t really expect to be loved right away though, after all there are other scars his ex has left behind. There’s trust issues that weren’t exactly there before Yeonjun, and old trust issues that are now amplified. Despite how much it hurt in the first few days, Wooyoung knows now that breaking up with Yeonjun was definitely the best for both of them, and there’s no hard feelings between them, just a few dark bruises that haven’t quite healed yet.
Wooyoung just wants better, but he no longer believes that someone could want him . Not in that way, at least. At times, Yeonjun made him feel invisible, and not worth the effort. He had to bend over backwards just to be told he was pretty, had to break his back for Yeonjun to call him any term of endearment or give him any affection. And part of that was just Yeonjun’s style– he wasn’t very affectionate, Wooyoung always had a hard time figuring out how exactly Yeonjun showed him love– but another part of that was the fact that Yeonjun couldn’t love Wooyoung. Not like he said he would.
San definitely wants Wooyoung though, or his ass rather. He’s not shy about it, making sure Wooyoung knows that San is lusting for him once again. When they’re together, at least a part of Wooyoung feels alive again, warmth spreading through him physically and emotionally even if it’s all just sex. The release of hormones and happy chemicals in his brain is enough to keep him going, and the gentle attention that San gives him after they fuck is enough for Wooyoung to feel at least a little bit cared for.
He is all too aware that eventually he’ll have to stop things with San and actually heal, but for now Wooyoung is content to distract himself and let San indulge the lust that’s always hungry for more. The lust that is never satisfied.
– + –
“So, you and San, huh?”
“Oh, shut up, Sangie. It’s just sex, that’s all. You know I’m in no position to date right now.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes at his own lie, a little voice in his head screaming that yes, yes he is. He has his shit, but he also has his therapist, and he could definitely-probably date if he wanted to. Yeosang seems to know that already though, scoffing as he takes another sip of his coffee.
“I think we both know that if you weren’t so emotionally closed off right now, you would’ve had San wrapped around your little finger before this even started.” Leave it to Yeosang to call Wooyoung out with absolutely no warning. He is right though– if Wooyoung were open to the idea of dating someone for real right now, San would probably be his first choice. It’s not like San is asking him out on dates or kissing him just to kiss him, but he cleans Wooyoung up and watches his favorite movies with him and makes sure he gets home alright after they’re done for the night. Oh, the bar is just so low these days.
Last time Wooyoung got broken up with, he made a list of his new and improved standards for any romantic relationship. His standards were already high, but being in a relationship like that truly opened Wooyoung’s eyes to the things that he cannot and will not sacrifice for any man.
Ask me out on dates, ask to spend time with me.
Don’t hide your affection or attraction for me, actually show me that you want me.
Comfort me both physically and mentally when I’m upset, show me that you care.
Initiate things too; kisses, affection, making out, sex, whatever.
Compliment me, acknowledge when I try to impress you or look good for you.
He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t settle for less, and if someone couldn’t do those things for him, he wouldn’t even bother. None of those standards even feel particularly unreasonable– the only thing that’s making them standards in the first place is in every relationship Wooyoung has been in, after the two month mark those things slowly started fading away. At first, Wooyoung just blamed it on the honeymoon phase coming to a close, but very quickly he realized that the honeymoon phase fading away shouldn’t mean he doesn’t even get the bare minimum.
He still deserves affection after the honeymoon phase, he still deserves to feel wanted and loved even as things start to fall into a more even rhythm. The goal of his new and improved list is to hold himself accountable, and either communicate his needs or leave if he knows those needs won’t be met.
“It doesn’t matter what I want anyways. We just fuck, we’re just friends who hold each other’s dicks. I’m just trying to fill the gaps, he knows it too.” Yeosang squints, disapproval flickering on his face for just a second before he slips back into his usual, relaxed expression. Wooyoung knows Yeosang is worried about him– he doesn’t really blame him either– this isn’t letting himself feel that hurt, this isn’t sitting with his pain. This is shoving all of that down, covering it with something tangible, something real even if it’s fake.
“You have a lot of healing you have to do on your own, but part of healing is also opening yourself up again, eventually. Letting yourself love and letting yourself trust, despite the hurt from the past.”
“I know that, Sangie,” Wooyoung sighs, breaking off a piece of his cookie and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate melts on his tongue and Wooyoung melts a bit, too. This happiness, this serenity, you should feel like this. “But I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“You will though, in a different form maybe, but you will get hurt again. Like I said, that’s just part of it all.” Yeosang shrugs as if the knowledge is easy for him to stomach– which for him, it probably is. Wooyoung is envious of that acceptance that he hasn’t figured out yet. His defenses are always up, a finger already on the switch, ready to go if something goes wrong. It feels like this impossible thing, to be able to not give a shit, to be able to let someone in and accept that someday they might leave a flaming trail in their wake. Even when he feels like he’s opening up, something will trigger him and then he’ll realize that oh , maybe he hadn’t come that far after all.
– + –
Sannie: you coming over tonight, love?
Wooyo: yeah, i’m coming over after i shower and finish this essay :]
Sannie: okay, see you when you get here, and drive safe.
Wooyoung smiles at his phone before shutting it off and setting it aside, focusing on the words on his laptop screen in front of him. He is literally just twenty words away from hitting the required word count, but it’s like suddenly his brain has stopped focusing on it. It makes sense actually, considering most of his brain is now figuring out what he should wear– or rather what he has in his closet that will make San crumble. The gray crop top maybe? Or maybe this time he should go a bit more casual– just a loose, flowy black button up and some black graphic sweatpants. Shivers shoot up Wooyoung’s spine at the image of San kissing him as he unbuttons the shirt, one button at a time, his fingers gently brushing against Wooyoung’s bare skin.
Deciding the essay is simply not worth delaying his other plans for, especially now that he’s excited to try on his outfit, Wooyoung shuts his laptop and slides off of his bed. He pads across the hardwood floor to his closet, only digging around a little bit before he finds the right shirt and pants. Wooyoung eagerly puts on the outfit, straightening any wrinkles in the fabric as he looks himself over in the mirror. With his hair kind of messy and his glasses framing his dark brown eyes, Wooyoung feels absolutely perfect. The shirt doesn’t hug his figure too much, but the sweatpants make the outline of his waist obvious when he moves, all of it coming together to make him feel like the prettiest boy in the world.
He hopes San will agree, hell, Wooyoung hopes San will notice . Wooyoung’s last boyfriend never did– not even when Wooyoung wore his ex’s favorite crop top and put glitter on his collarbones. He felt pretty, and he was always confident enough in himself that it didn’t really matter that his ex didn’t notice, it just stung a little bit. Not that San is his boyfriend, though, it’s nothing like that. Wooyoung just wants to impress him a little bit– wants to look good for San and more than anything, Wooyoung wants to feel desired.
He wants to feel it in someone’s touches, wants them to not be able to let him go. Or their kisses– desperate and passionate, hands on Wooyoung’s waist pulling him impossibly closer. Whispered words of affection and praise and desire in his ear, soft kisses over his jawline, down his neck, lower even. Every time Wooyoung imagines what it is to be desired so deeply in his head, San is the person he pictures. San’s hands, San’s lips, San’s voice. It’s why he’ll have to stop soon; Wooyoung knows he’s falling in too deep. It’s just sex .
Usually, Wooyoung takes an uber to San’s apartment, trying to get there as quickly as he can. Tonight, despite how hopeful he is about San’s reaction to his outfit, Wooyoung wants to take his time– partially so the tension can keep building– but mostly so he can calm down. He can’t tell if it’s the thought of being craved or if it’s the thought of San craving him that suddenly has him all wound up, but his skin is warm and turning a pretty shade of pink, his body trembling. It’s like he doesn’t want San to know he’s capable of feelings beyond lust. A defensive coping mechanism, perhaps, but Wooyoung can’t help it, he has to protect himself first.
– + –
By the time the uber picks Wooyoung up and drops him off at San’s apartment building, he’s calmed down, his cheeks no longer flaming and his heartbeat at a calmer, more normal pace. He hopes he seems collected, like he tried but not really , like he wants but doesn’t need .
Wooyoung sends another text off to San as he gets on the elevator, waiting for San’s answering okay before he presses the button and the elevator lifts up towards the fifth floor. There’s an itch in the back of his mind, a comparison that happens every time that Wooyoung always hates. At least when San says okay he makes you feel wanted , it says, at least he actually tries to spend time with you .
But we’re not even dating. That’s not how this works.
It’s terribly confusing, tortuously so, even. Between trying to figure out what the hell Yeonjun wants with him, what the hell he wants with Yeonjun, and his possibly-maybe budding feelings for San, Wooyoung is dizzy with the constant emotional feedback. The only thing that makes him feel better– at least for a little while– is letting San take him apart piece by piece and gently pull him back together.
It’s a short walk from the elevator to San’s apartment, one Wooyoung could probably do with his eyes closed now. He knocks on San’s door, anticipation trickling in his veins already despite how hard he’s trying to will it away. They like to sit together for a while first, catch up, discuss boundaries, and relax into each other’s presences a bit before they touch each other. Wooyoung likes the moment of quiet before they’re practically tearing each other’s clothes off, tension coming to a peak when they can actually touch each other.
“Hey,” San smiles as he pulls the door open, stepping out of the way so Wooyoung can come in and put his stuff down next to the pile of San’s shoes and the one pair of slippers Wooyoung left behind a month ago. San opens his arms, welcoming Wooyoung into his warm embrace. “I ordered food for later, but I have snacks if you want to eat anything right now.”
“Thank you, Sannie.” Wooyoung’s words are muffled, spoken into the crook of San’s neck as he holds San tighter and lets himself relax into the familiarity of San’s touch. They stay like that for a moment, Wooyoung hopes it’s not a moment too long, one that will raise red flags in San’s mind. No feelings– that’s what they had said– Wooyoung doesn’t have feelings for San, it doesn’t work that way.
The arms around Wooyoung shift, pushing him away enough that San can dip down to steal another kiss from Wooyoung’s lips. He kisses Wooyoung like a starving man, desperation and desire pouring from his body into Wooyoung’s until they’re both clawing at each other’s clothes, the air hot around them. San pulls back completely for a minute, brushing his fingers lightly over Wooyoung’s cheek before kissing him again and guiding him towards the bedroom. It’s messy and a bit clumsy as they fumble through the apartment, but neither of them want to break contact with each other for even a second.
San bumps into the bed first, his knees buckling as the back of his legs hit the edge of the mattress. He pulls Wooyoung with him and on top of him as he falls, a sharp gasp escaping Wooyoung’s lips at the position. For a moment, things slow down, heavy breathing and the ambient noise of the city are the only things Wooyoung can hear over the sound of his pounding heart. He can feel the tension between them clearly now, he feels it in every place where their bodies are pressed together, a familiar ache forming there.
San’s palm splays out over the side of Wooyoung’s neck, his other hand slowly moving up Wooyoung’s thigh to settle against his hip with a gentle squeeze. The light pressure alone is enough to make Wooyoung dizzy, heat flooding his body before heading straight to his dick.
“You look so pretty tonight, angel,” San moves the hand on Wooyoung’s cheek, rubbing Wooyoung’s bottom lip with his thumb. Wooyoung holds back a whimper, his body trembling involuntarily as shivers shoot down his spine. San is holding him so gently, but at the same time it’s so very clear who is in charge, his mind going a little fuzzy at the thought.. “Did you get all dressed up for me?”
“It was for me too, but yeah, I wanted to look pretty for you.” San hums in approval, gently brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of Wooyoung’s eyes before leaning in. Wooyoung shifts forwards, settling his weight more heavily onto San’s body and letting San readjust so both of his hands are squeezing Wooyoung’s waist. The pressure on his dick makes him whimper, and Wooyoung bites his lip to hold back more noises as San experimentally thrusts up, their bodies rubbing together.
“You are angel, so pretty like this.” San finally closes the gap between them, their lips connecting in what Wooyoung can only describe as the filthiest kiss he’s ever had. They’re both exploring each other’s bodies with their hands, bare skin rubbing against soft fabric. Wooyoung feels San thrust up again, then the hands on his waist are pressing him down onto San even more as he whines into the kiss. San doesn’t let up though, stealing the whimpers and the air directly from Wooyoung’s lips until he’s breathless and panting against San’s chest.
“You can touch me, Sannie, please touch me.” Wooyoung grips San’s shirt, tugging the loose fabric up until San gets the hint and lets Wooyoung pull it off of him, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. San follows Wooyoung’s lead, his fingers finding the first button on Wooyoung’s shirt and carefully undoing it, never breaking the kiss. Those fingers slowly undo every button on the shirt before coming back up to touch the heated skin being exposed as the shirt slides off of Wooyoung’s body.
Their pants are next, wandering hands and lips touching and kissing everywhere. San is gentle with Wooyoung at first, the way he always is, but by the time Wooyoung is prepped and ready for him, San is done waiting. He consumes Wooyoung, pressing their bodies impossibly closer as he slides into Wooyoung, shuddering at Wooyoung’s breathy moans.
“You always sound so pretty for me, angel.” Wooyoung moans louder, his hands coming up to grip San’s shoulders. It’s so much sensation, so many feelings in Wooyoung’s heart, his mind, his body, mostly his dick. San thrusts deep into him, grinding against him while he dips down to meet Wooyoung’s lips in another kiss and it’s that moment when Wooyoung realizes that it is not just sex.
San pulls back, fucking into Wooyoung harder and with intention , the tension between them like a balloon just waiting to pop. They’ve both gone silent, the usual flirty banter suddenly gone from both of their minds as they fall over the edge together. Wooyoung watches San’s face crumble, his muscles straining as he thrusts into Wooyoung one last time before stilling and letting them both ride out their highs. Mine , Wooyoung thinks, flinching as the word starts echoing in his head. San isn’t his, and he isn’t San’s. They’re not together beyond this, beyond the lust that connects them. It’s just sex , they’re just friends .
Desire climbs back up Wooyoung’s throat, and before he can even stop himself, he’s pulling San down for a filthy kiss, both of them still buzzing from their orgasms. He wonders if San can feel it in his lips, in his body, all of that wanting starting to crash over the edges of his heart. His whole mind is San , San’s arms, San’s lips, San’s voice.
“Mine,” Wooyoung whispers, the word coming off his tongue all too easily. He feels San tense over him, and then he’s pulling away from Wooyoung and reaching off the bed to grab a towel. San scoots closer to Wooyoung again, not looking up to meet Wooyoung’s eyes as he carefully starts to clean him off. Wooyoung wants to run away, the feeling of the towel too much against his sensitive skin, the thought of San not reciprocating his- his feelings too much for his sensitive brain.
“I could be,” San says quietly, his voice so soft that Wooyoung wonders if he’s even hearing him right. “If you wanted me to be, I could be yours.”
Oh .
Too much happens in Wooyoung’s mind at once– too much doubt, too many emotions. He wants San, he’s so thrilled that San wants him, but after last time– Wooyoung can’t hurt like that again. He never wants to feel that way again.
He pushes San off of him, biting back a whine when the air is suddenly cold against his skin. Wooyoung can feel everything , but somehow everything feels like nothing and it’s so confusing and– oh he might throw up. His eyes are watering, his body shaking as he forces his legs to move towards the bathroom connected to San’s bedroom. There’s a thump behind him as San tries to catch him before he can shut the door, but Wooyoung is working off of pure adrenaline and emotional trauma at this point. He locks the door with unsteady hands, taking a few steps back before the sink counter hits his waist.
Wooyoung barely recognizes the man looking back at him in the mirror. His hair is a mess, the post-orgasm glow replaced by fear and tears streaming down his cheeks. Choking back a sob, Wooyoung opens the drawer under the sink where he knows San keeps his spare towels, grabbing one to wrap around his waist. There’s pretty bruises covering his torso; Wooyoung can practically see where San had whispered his name into his skin.
Please, please, please, please . Wooyoung is begging in his mind, screaming and crying and hurting. It hurts, everything hurts, he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to trust San so badly, but the thought of the pain he would have to endure again, the idea that San could also hurt him so much is terrifying, Wooyoung doesn’t want it.
But San is always so good to him, always respectful of his body and his feelings and his boundaries. He is everything that Wooyoung wants, everything . That’s what Wooyoung thought last time though, and then that was a lie. That person that Wooyoung fell in love with left him, but Wooyoung didn’t leave him , trying to hold onto something that was already gone. He doesn’t want San to be another life lesson, he wants San to be safe for him, a place for him to learn what love should feel like.
“Wooyoung? Can I come in for a second?” San knocks on the door, but he doesn’t even try to open it, waiting for Wooyoung to make that decision himself. If he lets San in, San can reassure him and take care of him gently the way he always does. He will help Wooyoung feel better, and then they can talk and Wooyoung can explain what a mess he is while San tries to decide if he still wants Wooyoung or not when everything has been said. Wooyoung hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob. It’s just San, it’s just sex, we’re just friends, except now maybe we’re not? And there’s only one way Wooyoung can figure that out.
“Hi.” Wooyoung opens the door, his free hand coming up to make sure the towel is still secure around his waist. San is dressed now, light gray sweatpants hanging off of his waist and exposing the waistband of his boxers, Wooyoung’s favorite baby-blue sweatshirt making San look relaxed and comfortable, despite the worried expression on his face.
“I brought you clothes. They’re mine, but I can find some of the ones you’ve left here, if that would be better.” San holds out a small pile of soft, loose-fitting clothes to Wooyoung. Honestly, Wooyoung almost wants to ask for his own clothes and just go home where he can hide, but he thinks if San leaves his line of vision he might start crying again.
“Thank you.” Wooyoung takes the clothes, the fabric against his fingers so wonderfully smooth. San nods, smiling just a little bit and turning to walk away before Wooyoung is grabbing his wrist without even thinking about it. “It’s- it’s okay. Don’t go anywhere, I just want to get dressed but then we can talk?”
“Of course Wooyoungie,” San smiles, some of the color returning to his face as he adjusts the grip Wooyoung has on his wrist so he can gently squeeze Wooyoung’s hand. “Take your time, I’ll stay right out here.”
Wooyoung gets dressed, pulling the soft clothes over his still sensitive skin with unsteady hands. He feels a little bit more intact now, the piece of him coming back together to form a slightly damaged whole.
This is not how he wanted to start this conversation– it’s not even how he wanted to confess – but maybe this is for the best because Wooyoung doesn’t think he ever would’ve confessed. The fear of rejection always would have won over everything else, and Wooyoung would have kept waiting and waiting for some sense of surety to tell him what to do. Or he would have asked Yeosang to very subtly ask San if he had any feelings for Wooyoung, but that type of thing always backfires and then it actually would probably have ended up messier than this.
He wants to do this, for himself if not for San, for the possibilities between them.
San is right there when Wooyoung opens the door, his face calm but Wooyoung can see how tense he is. Softness starts to come back into his features when he sees that Wooyoung is okay though, his hands twitching where they rest at his sides.
“Did you mean it?” Wooyoung blurts, the words escaping before he can filter them. San, thankfully, only looks a little surprised at the question, a small smile forming on his lips as he speaks.
“I did, I do. I can be yours, if you want me to be.”
“And- and you meant it romantically right? Like, not just some sort of sexual exclusivity but- like boyfriends?” Wooyoung steps closer to San, his heartbeat pounding in his chest once again, butterflies swarming in his stomach.
“Yes, Wooyoungie. I want you romantically, sexually, every way possible I want you.” And Wooyoung wants San all those ways too, so much.
“You know that I’m still getting my shit together right? Closure and healing and all of that. But I want you like that too, I’m just-”
“Scared, which is understandable. We can wait, if you want, or if you feel like you’re ready to date again that’s good too. It’s whatever pace you want, Youngie.” San tentatively reaches out to take Wooyoung’s hand, the pad of his thumb ghosting over Wooyoung’s knuckles. Something stirs in Wooyoung at how easily San was able to read him– the urge to hide maybe, or the urge to see what else San knows about him. He’s always been someone who’s valued that connection, the wordless communication that some people are able to develop with each other.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” San asks, laughing at the furrow in Wooyoung’s eyebrows as he squints even harder. After a few more seconds, Wooyoung huffs in defeat, walking over to the bed and flopping down on his back with a sigh.
“I was trying to get you to cuddle me for a while.” Wooyoung knows that San can tell he’s trying to shift the mood to something lighter, but San just goes along with it, coming over to lie on the bed next to him.
“Baby, you could’ve just asked.” San scoots closer, throwing an arm over Wooyoung’s stomach so he can pull him closer to his chest.
“I was!”
“First, we should probably get this off of you,” San picks at a corner of Wooyoung’s athletic tape where it’s peeling, pulling off a strand of the thread that’s coming apart. Wooyoung winces at the slight twinge of the tape being pulled on dry, forcing himself to ignore the itch that immediately follows. “I’ll go start the bath, you find your removal oil, okay? Then we can cuddle after.”
Wooyoung doesn’t have to say anything before San is getting out of bed, leaving him alone to lounge on the soft blanket they always put down before they have sex a little while longer. His tape is going to hurt like hell when he takes it off; he already knows the skin under it is irritated and sore. He probably should’ve taken off his tape as soon as it started peeling instead of waiting another three days, even as his skin was gradually getting more and more irritated under the layer of adhesive. Despite the fact that the longer he wears it, the less effective it is, it is still helping to some extent, and honestly he just likes the way it looks.
He does have to take it off now though, the thin material fraying around the edges and leaving sticky black adhesive where it’s peeled away from his skin. He winces at the growing itch under the tape, fighting the urge to start scratching at it because he knows that will only make it more uncomfortable to take off, and it already hurts his skin enough as it is. Wooyoung tenses and relaxes his lower back repeatedly as he waits for San to tell him the bath is ready. If he’s lucky, maybe he won’t even need the removal oil at all and the tape will just peel away from his skin completely and relatively painlessly too.
Or, worst case scenario, there will be blisters and blood and places where the first layer of skin is completely scratched off, and then San will go to wash his skin gently and Wooyoung will flinch away because it stings and it will become this whole big thing.
Wooyoung sighs, rolling out of the bed to join San in the bathroom. He knows that a few weeks ago San had bought him a bottle of baby oil to remove the tape after Wooyoung had mentioned that sometimes sweating makes it uncomfortable– now it’s just a matter of finding where San put said baby oil.
He manages to locate it surprisingly quickly, underestimating how organized San keeps his bedroom. Wooyoung tugs his- well, San’s shirt off, tossing it vaguely in the direction of San’s hamper, taking off and tossing San’s sweatpants too, only leaving his boxers on but pulling the waistband down so it’s not touching the athletic tape anymore. Popping the cap on the bottle of baby oil, Wooyoung pours a little bit into his cupped palm before letting it slowly drip onto the tape. After he’s pretty sure all of it has soaked into the tape, he pours more into his palm, repeating the process over and over again until his skin is slick with oil and the tape is fully saturated.
The instructions on the package say that Wooyoung is supposed to wait three to five minutes after putting the oil on so it can really break down the adhesive, but Wooyoung can hear the bath running in the bathroom and he doesn’t really want to wait another three to five minutes for the warm water to caress his skin. He starts on the right edge of the tape, where the peeling was the worst and where it’s usually easiest anyways. It comes off slowly, but it doesn’t hurt like he’d expected it to, just a light tug on his skin before the adhesive disconnects and air rushes to soothe the area.
Still, body tape is stupid, and Wooyoung knows that after a certain point it won’t be so easy anymore. The resistance gradually grows until Wooyoung’s tugs on the tape become a little sharper and the pull of the adhesive on his skin starts to hurt more. He gets three more sharp tugs in, each one pulling off a little section of the tape and leaving the skin to burn, but then it starts to sting. Wooyoung runs his fingers over the sticky parts where the oil hadn’t had enough time to fully soak in, adhesive still left in little balls on his skin. Welts are already forming, the burn when Wooyoung’s fingers lightly drift over them telling him that there might even be blood. Great .
“Can I help with that?” San peeks his head out from the bathroom, noticing the distress on Wooyoung’s features and not hesitating a moment longer before walking over to Wooyoung.
“I’m okay, it’s just this one spot that’s really- ow - stuck.” Wooyoung sucks in air sharply through his teeth as he tries to tug off the last piece of tape, his whole lower back rebelling at the movement.
San pours some of the baby oil into his palm, turning to face Wooyoung’s back and gently tapping Wooyoung’s hand to tell him to move it away. He carefully sets his palm on the part of the tape that’s stuck, letting the oil drip and spread before he gently starts to rub it in until the tape is truly soaked with it.
“We have to let it soak for a few minutes, right?” San asks, wiping the excess oil off on a towel he snags off the rack. Wooyoung nods and the corner of San’s lips curve up in a small smile as he leans over to press a soft kiss on Wooyoung’s forehead. He guides Wooyoung into the bathroom, taking a bath bomb off the small shelf next to the bathtub, pulling the plastic wrapping off it and tossing it into the trash bin. Warm cypress hits Wooyoung’s nose almost immediately, the bath bomb fragrant enough that it already smells before San even leans over to drop it in the tub, pale green bubbles rising to the surface of the water.
He lets Wooyoung get into the bath first, waiting until he’s comfortable before turning off the water and sliding in behind him.
“Lean forward a bit,” San gently pushes Wooyoung’s shoulders away so he’s leaning toward the faucet, his hands sliding down Wooyoung’s back to tug at the tape again. This time, it comes off with little resistance, San’s fingers rubbing at the adhesive left on his skin until it’s all gone. Then, he pulls Wooyoung back to his chest, taking a soft sponge and running it all over Wooyoung’s body to clean him carefully, avoiding the areas where the tape caused irritation to spread onto his sides.
Wooyoung is lulled into a daze, letting San maneuver him in the tub to wash his hair, his hands, his arms, then to stand them both off so they can rinse off in the shower. They’re both silent, bodies warm and soft. Wooyoung lets San take care of him, slipping a fresh one of San’s shirts over his head along with clean boxers and an oversized pair of sweatpants.
They fall back into San’s bed, arms wrapped around each other, Wooyoung’s head pressed against San’s chest so he can hear the beat of his heart.
“I love you, Sannie.” Wooyoung murmurs through a yawn, tensing and relaxing his arms around San as he drops off into sleep.
“I love you too, my angel.”
– + –
San is already awake when Wooyoung wakes up, a smile lingering on his lips as Wooyoung blinks to clear his blurry vision. The events of the night before trickle back to his mind, a bolt of fear striking through him. He needs to be alone, he needs to analyze it all and think about everything before he gets caught in the honeymoon phase again. He has to be careful this time.
Wooyoung gets out of the bed, stretching his arms up over his head, his body coming to full awareness with the rest of him. San just watches him, clearly more reluctant to move from the comfort of his sheets until he sees Wooyoung starting to gather his things. He doesn’t say anything though, or try to convince Wooyoung to stay, but he does leave the room then. Wooyoung hears the fridge opening and a glass being placed on the counter, another surge of nerves hitting him. Did he offend San? Does San regret what happened? Was it just the heat of the moment?
Cautiously, Wooyoung shuffles down the hallway and into the kitchen, slipping into his shoes so he can be ready to make his escape when– if San is no longer happy with him.
“Do you want breakfast?” San offers, leaning back against the counter, a beam of sunlight cutting over his body in a way that makes him look angelic. He sips the glass of water in his hand before setting it down on the counter behind him, covering his mouth as he yawns.
“I think I’ll just go home, decompress for a few hours. But I’d like it if you came over later?” Wooyoung asks, nervous that San will say no or think he’s already being too clingy. Later, he’ll think about how lovely San was last night, how much he must care, but now all Wooyoung can think about is what if .
“Of course.” San smiles, walking Wooyoung over to the door and pulling it open for him. “Go rest, and I’ll see you later tonight, love.”
San kisses Wooyoung on the cheek before stepping back into his apartment and waiting for Wooyoung to turn away before he shuts the door. Wooyoung touches the tips of his fingers to where San kissed him as he walks down the hallway, his touch slowly moving over to trace his lips, then down his neck. His skin tingles with memories, good ones of San making him feel desired and loved and wanted . For now, even though the fear is still there, the hope is refusing to let it overtake him, instead slowly mixing with the fear to form an emotional cocktail that Wooyoung is sure will hit him later.
– + –
Later ends up being the twenty minute ride to Wooyoung’s apartment. Between the rush of conflicting emotions wrapping around his body to the constant too-loud hum of the car’s engine, he feels like he’s almost ready to explode. He refreshes the map on his phone every ten seconds, watching the estimated time to destination number go from ten to nine to eleven, then all the way down to six. He just wants to be home for a while, give himself and his emotions a minute to process everything that has happened in the past twelve hours. Giving up on the map, Wooyoung opens his texts instead, sending a quick one to Yeosang that says nothing more than ‘I did it.’ before shutting his phone off.
He watches the world go by in silence until the car finally pulls up to his building, thanking the driver before quickly getting out of the car and rushing inside. The elevator doesn’t move fast enough, his apartment feels too far down the hallway, and every second he’s not curled up in his bed feels like another second of his emotions building. Wooyoung doesn’t even bother to put his things away properly when he walks through the door to his apartment, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket over the back of the couch.
Heading straight to the bedroom, Wooyoung tugs his- San’s shirt over his head and throws it on the floor somewhere, practically throwing himself onto his bed as well. He falls asleep fast, the smell of San’s and his own colgonge mixing to create a warm, familiar scent that soothes him into a dreamless sleep.
– + –
Wooyoung wakes up a few hours later, multiple things already annoying him the moment he opens his eyes. He’s too hot under his covers, the sheets sticking to the thin layer of sweat on his skin, but the air is too cold and it chills him too quickly. He’s not comfortable, his muscles sore and his body still weak as sleep tries to hold on for a bit longer. The red numbers on his clock only piss him off more, not to mention the bolt of anxiety that shoots through him. It’s literally almost noon and he’s just now waking up. That alone is enough to put him in a bad mood.
It takes too long for him to get out of bed, his pants folded up his calves and his shirt twisted across his chest. He shuffles over to his bathroom, turning on the dim set of lights while his eyes finish adjusting to being open again. Washing his face doesn’t help, brushing his teeth doesn’t help either, in fact none of his morning routine is helping to ground him at all. Wooyoung had thought that today was going to be a good, productive day and he was going to wake up, do his routine, and eat a good breakfast. Now all he wants to do is crawl back into bed, open his window, and sweat under the covers until San or Yeosang come to rescue him.
His bed welcomes him back into it, the blankets still warm where he had been lying down before. For a while, Wooyoung tries to sit up, hoping that he’ll feel better when he wakes up a little bit more and then maybe he’ll actually be able to get something done today. The longer he sits up though, the more a headache starts throbbing through his head. So Wooyoung lies down, and then it just gets worse. He doesn’t want to sleep it off though, knowing that if it hurts now, it’s only going to hurt more when he wakes up, but he just feels like shit .
Wooyoung tries to keep his frustration down as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of Advil and leaving it on the counter while he pours himself a glass of water. It’s probably not going to help given that he hasn’t eaten anything at all today and it’s already after noon, but even just swallowing the pills will give him at least some sense that he’s doing something for himself. There’s a sense of relief the minute both pills slide down his throat, some of the tension in his shoulders relaxing even though the little voice in the back of his mind is reminding him that this is not a permanent fix.
Part of Wooyoung is tugging him back to bed, telling him that he has done enough for today, he can rest now. The rest of him– the side of him he can’t say no to without having to force himself past the feeling of impending doom– disagrees harshly. One can never care for themself too much, besides San is still meant to be coming over later. He will wait for the medicine to kick in, and then he’ll go get coffee that will most likely kickstart yet another headache, along with something for San to have when he comes over. That counts as self care too, that will also make him feel better, even though sleeping it off does have the potential to make him feel better too.
Wooyoung grabs his jacket off of the couch, checking to make sure his wallet is still in the pocket before sending a text to San asking if he wants anything and leaving his apartment. The change of scenery lightens his mood just a bit as he heads down to the lobby, the spring air settling some of his nerves when he steps outside. It’s a quick walk over to the coffee shop, but it gets Wooyoung’s endorphins moving through his bloodstream and by the time he’s met with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, he’s already feeling more like himself. An americano won’t do any harm though– perhaps this day will not be so difficult after all.
Wooyoung orders his coffee and a few pastries for him and San to share later, waiting in front of the pick-up counter for his order to be pushed towards him. Surveying the room around him, Wooyoung notices how busy the shop is today, students and families and couples filling up almost every table. He relaxes into the atmosphere, quietly watching the people around him move until he spots someone who looks a little too familiar. Quickly averting his gaze back to the counter and the menus on the wall behind it, Wooyung silently prays that he didn’t see him, and his order will be out any second now. Just as his order is pushed across the counter to him with a polite smile from the barista, Wooyoung becomes all too aware of a presence behind him.
“Hi Wooyoung.” Tensing, Wooyoung looks over his shoulder, Yeonjun’s eyes meeting his own.
“Yeonjun.” Wooyoung bows politely, turning back to the counter to take his coffee and the pastries he bought for San so he can go home and avoid-
“Come sit, let’s catch up for a while.” Yeonjun gestures to an open table next to the window, pulling the seat out for Wooyoung to take. Wooyoung sits, setting his purchases down on the glossy wood table. “Americano?”
“Yeah. Latte?”
“Mhm. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?” Since we were together in person, or since we actually went out and got coffee together? Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee, letting the bitter taste wash down the bitter words on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t want to fight, and he’s pretty sure Yeonjun doesn’t want to talk about it either.
“How’s Soobin and everyone?”
“They’re all good, Beomgyu and Taehyun started recording a new song with Huening Kai, Soobin is working on some choreography with me after practice these days. How’s Yeosangie?”
“He’s good,” Wooyoung pauses, wondering if it’s too soon but ultimately deciding that perhaps he should test the waters a little bit. “Still a little mad at you, watch out.”
Yeonjun laughs for a minute, but once his laughter stops Wooyoung can already sense the words that are about to be said. So much for a nice, easy catch-up.
“I really did love you, Wooyoung. Even in the end, I loved you.”
“I can’t believe that. I think you know that I can’t believe that anymore.” Wooyoung pushes his nails into his palm, forcing the tears back where they came from. He will not cry in front of Yeonjun. Yeonjun does not get to see him cry anymore.
“Well you should.” Yeonjun says, but Wooyoung knows that look, he knows that tone of voice. It’s so clear to him that Yeonjun is lying, and he hates that he knows Yeonjun well enough to detect that. He wishes he could forget everything he knows about Yeonjun, every secret, every truth, every bit of body language Wooyoung learned to memorize. He doesn’t want it anymore.
“I was literally a rebound for you, Yeonjun.”
“But I did love you, for a while.” Wooyoung thinks he might cry, then smack Yeonjun in the face. In that order. “I just wasn’t ready like I thought I was.”
“Yeah, well guess who had to suffer for that?” Wooyoung could say more; he could tell Yeonjun about all of the times he shoved his own needs down in order to cater to Yeonjun, only for Yeonjun to step on him anyways. He could tell Yeonjun that he knows– he knew every time Yeonjun blew him off, that he was never so easily fooled. Wooyoung knew all along, but he stayed anyway because maybe just maybe the person he fell in love with would come back when Yeonjun started feeling better. But that person was long gone, and Wooyoung knew it the whole time.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“You did everything I told you not to do, Yeonjun. I told you not to ghost me and you did. I told you to be consistent and you weren’t. I told you to communicate with me if something was wrong and you almost never did. I thought I was asking too much, but the whole time it was just you.”
And then you just confused me more. You treated me better after we broke up than you ever did while we were together. You tried to spend time with me, you actually held a conversation with me, you made it clear that you wanted to include me in your life all while telling me you were over me. What the fuck was I supposed to think, Yeonjun? What was I supposed to say?
Wooyoung swallows down the emotions threatening to spill over, forcing them back down his throat. All of the pain he felt, and all of the pain he refused to feel is suddenly overwhelming him. It feels like thorns snaking up his arms and wrapping around them, holding Wooyoung to the chair he’s sitting in so he has no choice but to wait for Yeonjun to speak again while images of what they used to be flash through his mind. In all honesty, the thought of Yeonjun ever touching him again makes Wooyoung sick .
He deserves so much better than what Yeonjun was to him. He deserves to feel wanted, and desired, and loved, and worthy of every good thing. A relationship shouldn’t mean he has to sacrifice his happiness, a relationship shouldn’t feel like a competition. He shouldn’t be watching other couples and wondering “why doesn’t my boyfriend love me like that?” because he deserves to be loved in a way that feels good for him, too. Wooyoung knows it now, he knows all of it.
“I’m going home. I’ll see you when I see you.” Wooyoung says darkly, then he forces the thorns to release him and he walks out of the cafe without even trying to watch the reaction on Yeonjun’s face.
– + –
It’s gross. It’s disgusting, the way Wooyoung feels as he unlocks the door to his apartment. The space feels cold and unwelcoming, despite the pleasant smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air. His skin doesn’t feel like his own either, his body unfamiliar and foreign to his senses. Wooyoung hates it, he hates all of it.
Rushing to his room, Wooyoung ignores the confused noise San makes when they nearly collide in the hallway. San doesn’t need to know he still feels like this, that Yeonjun still makes him feel like this. He shuts the door behind him, trying to keep himself calm enough to shakily unpack his bag and change back into his pajamas from earlier before crawling into bed. The sheets are slightly warm, and the smell of his and San’s cologne floods his senses. It’s almost too much but Wooyoung lets it take over anyways, hoping that maybe this kind of too much will override the other one.
And it does, but the tears still come anyway, and then Wooyoung can’t breathe. He’s used to it now; forcing his panic attacks to be quiet and mostly internal is an art he has mastered. One can only take being told they’re faking it or just seeking attention so many times before it starts to affect them, before they can’t feel things fully anymore. Wooyoung knows it was hard for Yeonjun to deal with his anxiety– he doesn’t want to be difficult for San too.
So he sits in it for a while, letting the overthinking happen while trying to keep himself from totally spiraling. He doesn’t even know what triggered him really, beyond existing in the same space with Yeonjun for longer than five minutes. Maybe it was the flood of memories that came back to him while they talked– the good ones where Wooyoung wanted nothing more than to sink into Yeonjun’s embrace, and the bad ones where he never wanted Yeonjun to touch him again. Or it’s the shame, because Wooyoung should have known better from the start, and because he did, but he loved Yeonjun enough to try to ignore it in hopes of something better.
Wooyoung curls up in his blanket, wrapping it around himself and letting the warm weight of it help him relax into the bed. His face feels damp and sticky with tears, sweat clinging to every inch of his body. He’s coming out of the panic attack now, but the uncomfortable cocktail of emotions is still sitting in him, drenching him in disgust. Although he’s not sobbing anymore, his heartbeat back down to a normal rate and his breathing even, his body still doesn’t feel like his. His skin feels wrong and he knows the heat of the room isn’t helping, but now he can’t move, the buildup becoming too overwhelming all over again.
“Angel?” San knocks quietly on the door before he opens in, Wooyoung pulling the blanket up to cover his face. “Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired, that's all.” Wooyoung tries to keep his voice as stable as possible, wincing when it cracks mid-sentence. He hears the door shut, his heart sinking because even though he was expecting it, part of him really wanted San to stay. The tears start pooling in his eyes again, his breath catching in his throat and Wooyoung braces himself for a second panic attack before the bed sinks behind him.
“Can I touch you?” San is quiet, concern evident in his voice. Wooyoung nods weakly, allowing San to carefully wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer, the weighted blanket now spread over both of them. He traces lines and shapes on Wooyoung’s stomach where his shirt has moved to expose his skin, pressing gentle kisses to Wooyoung’s shoulder. San doesn’t press Wooyoung to say what’s on his mind, but he doesn’t go anywhere either, his presence steady and grounding as Wooyoung comes back to himself again, as his body slowly begins to feel like it’s his.
“You’re never alone, angel. I’m here to support you, okay? Don’t ever think you have to suffer silently.”
“Don’t want to be difficult for you,” Wooyoung sniffles, letting San hold him a little closer.
“No, no Wooyoung, you're not difficult. You can lean on me, okay? I’ll take care of you, I’m here.” Just those two words, that simple statement of ‘I’m here’ brings a flood of emotions through Wooyoung. San is here with him, for him, and he’s not leaving, he’s not making Wooyoung fight it on his own, he’s guiding Wooyoung through it.
“I saw Yeonjun today,” Wooyoung says a while later, after his breathing has returned to normal and he feels like he can actually talk without his brain picking through every word he’s going to say. “At the coffee shop down the street. We… talked for a while.”
“Talked?” San lifts himself up so he can look down at Wooyoung’s face, one of his hands still resting on Wooyoung’s stomach.
“Yeah. About the breakup, you know, all of that fun shit.” Wooyoung bites out the last few words, traces of lingering anger starting to burn again. He doesn’t want to be angry anymore, he just wants things with him and Yeonjun to go back to normal, back to just friends. “I just wish that it were easier. Like, things are fine I guess and we’ll be fine, but I wish the anxiety would stop and I wish I could stop wanting to seek comfort in him. I love him, but I wish things were different. I trust him with my life, but I guess I wish I didn’t.”
“You know, I’d be surprised if you didn’t feel that way about him.” San starts, Wooyoung’s face shifting into an expression of complete confusion. “You guys were friends for a long time before you were romantically involved. As much as romantic feelings don’t go away overnight, that bond you have doesn’t either. But at the same time, space is probably good for both of you right now. Some breathing room, that way you can process it without the influence of each other.”
“We’ve had space, I miss my best friend.” Wooyoung doesn’t like the taste of the words on his tongue, misses how easy they used to be but now the history and the context behind them is almost too much for him to think about.
“Then try again, talk it out now that things have settled a bit more.” San reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing Wooyoung’s phone before leaning over and handing it to him.
Wooyoung takes his phone from San, letting the sense of finality wash over him. He knows technically he doesn’t have to do this, he could just leave it at that and never think about Yeonjun again, but that’s not what he wants. He wants to keep their bond, he wants Yeonjun in his life, he wants closure . Back before they were together romantically, they would talk about everything and Wooyoung wants this to be something they can talk about. He wants to hear Yeonjun’s perspective on how things happened, on how they’re existing together now just out of curiosity. Just because he values Yeonjun, and he likes hearing his thoughts. Besides, they have too much history for either of them to really just let it all go. They love each other too much for that, in whatever form love exists between them.
Wooyoung: I’m ready to talk now, if you are.
Yeonjun: Friday then? After dance?
Wooyoung: Yeah. I’ll see you then, Yeonjun.
– + –
Wooyoung only dreads the end of his dance class a little bit, the rest of him just excessively curious as to how he’ll react to being close to Yeonjun again after last time. He tries to keep his focus on the fact that they do not hate each other, and that this is just part of coming back into a healthy friendship and healing and all of that fun stuff. So, as much as he hates it and feels just a bit nauseous already at the thought of Yeonjun looking at him, about acknowledging the love between them now and in the past, he still wants to do this.
“Hey.” Yeonjun comes over to him first, a dark towel thrown over his shoulder. “Coffee?”
Wooyoung nods, not trusting himself to keep his words down quite yet. A rush of memories hits him all at once, ones not unlike this where it was just the two of them talking together, talking about each other, about how they fit in each other’s lives. Even before they were together, the way they talked then; and when they were together, what they thought about their futures. It fills Wooyoung with hope, but also a faint sense of loss, disappointment. He has hope that they will stay like this, their lives still intertwined as they always have been, their bond still strong and getting stronger. None of that hope can completely replace the sadness and the grief though. It can’t make him forget the things they had planned, the way he hoped it would be for them.
They’re still silent as they walk out of the studio together, but not in an awkward way. There’s unsaid words, apologies maybe, but the feeling is not wrong , it’s just different. Wooyoung swallows down the memories, stopping the spiral before it can start.
“I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I was an ass, I know that.” Yeonjun speaks first, sincerity clear in his tone.
“I know that too. And I’ve thought about it– I don’t blame you, Yeonjun. You had your own shit going on and so did I, and we just couldn’t support each other. But yes, you were an asshole for a while there.” Yeonjun scoffs at Wooyoung’s agreement, pushing the lobby doors open so the warm spring air can dance over their still hot skin as they step outside. The sun is just beginning to set, street lights flickering on all around them.
“At least we can talk about it now.”
“I’ve wanted to talk about it since it happened – you know how I work through things. I think if we had tried to talk about it then, or before we fought at least, it wouldn’t have ended well. There was too much tension because we were both just… pretending nothing happened.” Wooyoung didn’t like how that felt at all. Sure, five months wasn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was serious for those five months and a lot had happened. “I didn’t want to erase what we had.”
“Well yeah, I didn’t want to erase it either. I think it was selfish on both of our parts for us to assume we could be friends right away without ever talking about the breakup or some of the tension after. And then obviously it just exploded in our faces a little bit, but we figured it out right?” Wooyoung nods, feeling the last little crumbs of anger fall away. It was inevitable really, and he’s glad they’re both on the same page about that. And he’s glad that Yeonjun doesn’t want to erase it, that they can both agree on that too. It was a part of their story, their history, and even though it’s over now they can still remember it and appreciate the memories.
Wooyoung is just surprised that seeing Yeonjun in person again now that he doesn’t dislike him so much isn’t bringing back all of those romantic feelings as well. He’s relieved, and he’s glad they’re okay, but he definitely doesn’t want to get back together.
“It’s funny, all of this is just solidifying for me that I don’t have any romantic feelings for you anymore. It’s a good thing.” Wooyoung smirks, relieved that the energy between them is still comfortable and easy even if it’s a little bit heavier than it was before.
“Same here,” Well, maybe not entirely peaceful, because Wooyoung knows he started it but he kind of wants to smack Yeonjun in the face for that. “I’m glad we’re still friends, Wooyoung.”
“Me too.” He does value Yeonjun, truly. They’ve known each other for years, gone from hating each other to being each other’s closest friends. They came out to each other, went through their sexuality crises together, developed their own personal styles together. They became who they are today together , and supported each other through it all. That’s what Wooyoung values, that bond between them that clearly is not so easily broken. “We must be soulmates. I think that’s a fair conclusion to come to at this point.”
“I think so too. We’re soulmates. I’ll be the protective ex-boyfriend too, I hope you know that.” Wooyoung laughs, surprised at Yeonjun’s words.
“It’s really funny, because when we broke up I thought and kind of hoped that someday we would be there for each other like that.” Wooyoung huffs another laugh at the slightly shocked expression on Yeonjun’s face. “That we’d both be protective over each other– not in a possessive jealous way, but more like we know how we need to be loved, you know? Like– I hoped that if I ended up with some shitty guy, you’d call me out and make sure I got out of it, and you’d let me do the same for you.”
“Oh absolutely. You’re the first person I’d come to for something like that.” Oh- oh that’s more trust than Wooyoung thought Yeonjun still had for him. They really are soulmates, they really do love each other.
Of course, it’s still a lot for Wooyoung to feel. Maybe because it’s Yeonjun, maybe because it’s him and Yeonjun together still, but it’s a bit overwhelming. He’s still hurt, angry, sad, mourning, disappointed. The deepest wound though, the one that hurts the most, is that he never stopped loving Yeonjun, not for a second. Not when they fought, not when they broke up, never. Wooyoung has always, and probably will always love Yeonjun, it’s just in a different form now. From platonic to romantic to platonic again, his love for Yeonjun has always been that of the love a soulmate has for a soulmate. Yeonjun will still be a source of comfort for him, he will still seek out Yeonjun’s thoughts and worry and be protective over him, and he will still love him.
For a while after they broke up, Wooyoung thought that being close to Yeonjun wouldn’t be so scary anymore. He thought that maybe he wouldn’t feel like he was always hanging off of a ledge, waiting to be dropped, but he’s just as scared now, just as nervous that something bad will happen again. Wooyoung can’t imagine his life without Yeonjun, now more than ever.
But, now more than ever, Wooyoung thinks he can put his trust in Yeonjun. They’re soulmates after all, they’re closer than they’ve ever been, and they value what they have– all of it.
“You don’t think San and Yeosang want to destroy me, right?” Yeonjun jokes– or rather, half-jokes.
“No, no, don’t worry. Seonghwa on the other hand… he might smack you next time he sees you.” Yeonjun throws his head back as he laughs, their conversation slipping back into something lighter and less daunting. Perhaps Yeonjun will never know just how deep Wooyoung’s love for him goes, but maybe he doesn’t need to know all of that either. They can be close just like this, and Wooyoung truly thinks he’ll be satisfied with that.
– + –
“I’m home,” Wooyoung slips off his shoes, dropping his bag and his jacket onto the floor behind him before he rushes to the bedroom. He barely gives San a chance to ask how it went, instead collapsing right on top of San on the bed. San’s arms immediately wrap around him, one hand gently stroking his spine in an offer of wordless comfort. Wooyoung is glad San isn’t saying anything or asking any questions– he doesn’t really want to talk about it yet.
The truth is, just because he’s over Yeonjun and their conversation confirmed those feelings– or rather the lack of feelings Wooyoung has for Yeonjun, it’s not like Wooyoung is done grieving now. He’s over Yeonjun, but he’s not over what they had , what they could have had if only things had turned out differently. Part of him thinks he should have been more firm with his needs, he should have communicated his own desires more clearly because Yeonjun didn’t pick up on them. Perhaps they would’ve recognized sooner that they didn’t slot together the way they had in the beginning. Perhaps it would have saved him from a little bit of heartbreak.
Or, maybe Wooyoung should’ve just stayed silent. He should have started keeping his emotions to himself, forcing them down so that he could be exactly what Yeonjun needed and nothing more than that. If he had given himself up, if he had stopped trying to hold his own and just accepted what he got and not fought for what was harder to find.
But that’s the thing about San– Wooyoung doesn’t feel like he has to give himself up completely for San to love him. The way they are, the way their two souls fit together leaves space for Wooyoung to actually exist as a person beyond San, to hold on to his individuality. He can still do things for himself too, he can still ask for his needs to be met too, and he knows that San will respect him through it all. There’s no settling for ‘good enough’ comfort or making excuses for why it’s ‘understandable’ that he has to bend over backwards for love because he doesn’t . Because San wants to love Wooyoung, and he wants Wooyoung to feel that love.
“I love you.” Wooyoung says quietly into the fabric of San’s shirt. It’s an offer and a request– a question and an answer all in one. Here is my heart, this piece I’m holding out to you. Be gentle with it, it’s healing still. Will you accept it? I love you.
“I love you too, my Wooyoungie.” San’s words fill Wooyoung with warmth, a swell of emotions building in his chest. Just as they start to overwhelm him, San presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, shifting their position on the bed so he can protectively wrap himself around Wooyoung, their chests pressed together.
Wooyoung squeezes San’s hand, curling further into his chest as a few stray tears slide down his cheeks. San’s arms tighten around him at the first signs of his breath getting unsteady, the reassuring pressure only pushing Wooyoung to the conclusion he was already starting to come to.
He’s going to be okay, he is strong, and he is going to be okay.