Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Make it quick."

San squeezes his eyes shut, determined to block out the sight of the needle. Unfortunately, his earlier glance burned the image into his brain, and now he’s fighting the overwhelming urge to bolt out of the apartment.

Across the room, Wooyoung leans casually against the table, arms crossed, an unmistakable smirk spreading across his lips. The amusement in his expression is impossible to miss— he’s clearly having the time of his life.

"Don't pass out on me."

"You be quick, and I won't pass out."

San’s voice wavers as he presses his eyes shut even tighter, like the extra effort might save him from the impending doom. Wooyoung has to admit: it’s an endearing sight. San looks like a cartoon character bracing for impact, all scrunched-up face and balled-up fists.

"You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow? I’ve got the anesthetic at the shop. You can swing by when you’re feeling braver."

Wooyoung offers, taking a step closer. For a second, he debates patting San on the shoulder, maybe giving him a playful nudge to lighten the mood. But something about San’s tense posture tells him not to push too far.

"No way. If I wait, I’ll chicken out. Just do it. Stab me."

San’s dramatics make him cringe internally, though he’s sure it’s the combination of residual alcohol in his system and needle-induced terror talking. Truth be told, he's kind of glad his brain is focusing on panicking instead of how cute, yet handsome, Wooyoung looks in his black pajamas. Wooyoung was clearly getting ready for bed when Hongjoong rang his doorbell. San apologized, but not too wholeheartedly, as it's only because of Hongjoong that he’s able to enjoy this sight— when he's not squeezing his eyes shut, which is what he's doing at the moment.

"So dramatic."

Wooyoung chuckles, turning to his makeshift workstation. He fiddles with the equipment, the clinks and rustles making San even more on edge.

"Were you forced into this or something? I'm not comfortable piercing you if you were."

San swallows hard as Hongjoong's words replay in his head. Scared, aren't we?  He is, and he's never going to deny it, but he's also never going to admit it out loud for the time being— he has his pride to keep intact, he's already looking enough like a scaredy cat when he really is not. He's just nervous. He always wanted the stupid piercing and he's getting it now. He trusts Wooyoung is going to do a good job, he has created small pieces of art on both his friends' ears and bodies. 

"Was Hongjoong shoving me in here not obvious enough?"

San snorts, opening one eye to see what Wooyoung is doing. He can’t see much, as Wooyoung is covering the table with his body, but he likes looking at his back more than he would ever like looking at the needles.

"Lost a bet. But I want to do it. I just need a little push."

"Ah, a bet with Joong. Let me guess, something humiliating?"

Wooyoung chooses a couple of earrings of different diameters and sets them on the table. Hongjoong has already shouted what he would like San to get, but Wooyoung isn’t sure the scaredy cat would actually be okay with what his best friend suggested— even if it would suit him well.

"Nothing worth mentioning. Just go ahead already."

San whines, squeezing his thighs together as his eyes are too sore to keep shut.

"C’mon, spill. It’s the price for a free piercing."

Wooyoung knows whatever San's hiding is about him. He couldn’t hear much back at Hongjoong’s apartment, but they dropped his name more than once— and that's enough to spike his curiosity.

"Piercing first, explanation later?"

San tries, hoping to pass out so he won’t be physically able to explain the stupidest bet of his life. In his defense, he truly believes Hongjoong was playing with him.

*

"Are you attending the meeting tomorrow?"

Hongjoong asks as he helps Seonghwa set the table for dinner while San's busy at his colleague and friend's desk.

"Gonna show up just to hear you piss off the higher-ups,"

San snorts, fingers moving swiftly on the keyboard to fix whatever Hongjoong has done to stop the software from working out of the blue.

"Sounds like you trust me. You earned free dinner."

Hongjoong states before asking Seonghwa for another plate.

"It's four now. San's staying too."

"Four? Who's coming?"

San asks mindlessly, just to be polite.

"Our tattoo artist. He lives on the third floor in this building."

Hongjoong's voice suddenly closer to San than before.

"You're going to like him. A lot."

"I'm out of the dating pool. Not interested."

San shakes his head, eyes on the screen to avoid losing focus after that comment.

"You'll change your mind when you see him."

Seonghwa chimes in, humming as he checks the food in the oven— it smells good, better than anything Hongjoong has ever cooked.

"Not gonna happen. I'm a monk."

San shakes his head again, clicking his tongue.

"That's why you're starved."

Hongjoong states, taking a seat on the desk right next to San's hand— which is gripping the wireless mouse like his life depends on it.

"I'm sorry, what—"

"Sex starved. Touch starved. Love starved. Everything starved."

Hongjoong snickers, pointing a finger at San's shoulder.

"He's gonna change your mind. He's so your type."

"And you're so wrong. I don't have a type. I'm done with types."

"He's different from your last type. This is the right type. Trust me, you're gonna go insane for him."

Hongjoong snickers again, unable to control his laughter.

"I've been waiting for this moment since forever—"

"Since Woo moved into the building, so what? Two months?"

Seonghwa laughs as well.

"I don't even like tattoos. I'm scared of needles!"

San tries to move Hongjoong away from him, but with little success as the other has put himself between San and the monitor.

"He's gonna change your mind. With one stupid smile."

Hongjoong winks at him, making San roll his eyes dramatically. He turns towards Seonghwa, only to find him smiling as well, annoyingly entertained just like his boyfriend.

"This is planned, isn't it? Nothing's wrong with the software."

"I actually can't get the software to work, but I could have waited until tomorrow morning to call a technician, honestly speaking. Just trust me for once!"

"Well, I won't."

San gets up from the chair, but Hongjoong pushes him back down. He's shocked for a moment; he never imagined his friend to be this strong— they're very different physically, with San being very muscular and Hongjoong being pocket-sized.

"Let's make a bet."

The shorter one states, hand still on San's shoulder— he doesn't seem to have any intention of letting go.

"Great. If I win, you're out of my love business. Forever."

San accepts immediately, mostly because there's no way he's refusing a bet he knows he can win against Hongjoong, who wins every single time. 

Betting is a usual game of theirs. At work, at the club, at office dinners— they bet on anything and everything just not to get bored. Hongjoong wins most of the times, San doesn't stand it but he can't blame himself if the other is incredibly good at reading both people and situations— he understands the society, yet he repulses the idea of being part of it. San doesn't understand society nor people, and he doesn't wish to be part of it either. It's a double win for him, except in bet territory. So when San finds himself in front of a bet he knows for a fact he's going to win, he can't take a step back. 

The prize he would win is exceptional too. Hongjoong is a great friend, but he doesn't understand where to stop when meddling in San's personal life. San doesn't mind enough to scold him, but he would like not to have his best friend secretly follow him at first dates to check the man he's meeting is not a serial killer. 

"If I win, you get an ear piercing."

Hongjoong is quick, it's pretty obvious he had it prepared.

"He's the one piercing you, of course."

If Hongjoong wins, San is only going to finally accomplish a wish of his. He has always wanted to get a piercing, somewhere in his ears, but he's scared of both the needle and the pain and the consequences and his image— he has always had an excuse not to follow Hongjoong or his boyfriend at the piercing studio down the road. This time, if he loses, no excuses accepted. It's the best punishment he could ever face. 

"Not happening."

San shakes his head, confident. He has to maintain his pride, even though a part of him just wishes to lose the bet and get that stupid hole in his ear. 

"Where's the line?"

"If you get a boner before he leaves, I win."

Hongjoong showcases his creepiest smile ever.

San smirks, even more confident, if possible. It takes quite a lot to get him horny— a smile is not enough, not even a hand on his pants is enough. Plus, San has very specific likings in men; not just anyone catches his attention, and even among those who do, he rarely ends up with a painful symptom of physical attraction to take care of. 

*

Except, the moment his eyes land on Wooyoung for the first time, he knows he's in serious trouble.

"Half now, half later."

Wooyoung bargains, and he wins because San gives up miserably. He believes he can come up with something believable— after all, there's a lot he and Hongjoong could be talking about. He can just come up with something when the earring is in his ear.

But Wooyoung takes him by surprise.

"Am I part of the bet?"

Wooyoung asks, making San blush— basically answering the question without uttering a single word. Wooyoung giggles.

"I knew it. Good, now let’s move on with the piercing."

"Yeah."

San stutters, looking away again because he cannot bear the eye contact. He's not even that against the idea of a piercing, considering where else their conversation could go. Wooyoung doesn't push any further on that topic, pretty sure there's no way to get anything out of San.

"Can I abuse my power a little?"

Wooyoung asks instead.

"Do you want to suffocate me so I shut the hell up? I’ve been talking a lot. Too much."

San raises a brow, for a moment actually scared for his life.

"I'm pretty sure there's another way to go about that."

Wooyoung laughs, sterilizing the needle.

"Do you mind blood? Like, do you pass out if you see any?"

"Am I gonna bleed? Oh my God. Hongjoong, you fucking bastard—I don't pass out but I certainly don't like—"

"I definitely need to distract you."

Wooyoung keeps chuckling as he reaches for his marker on the table.

"Okay, so, where do you want it?"

"Hongjoong told you already."

San scoffs, touching his ears with a pout on his lips; Wooyoung finds him very cute.

"Can't remember the name."

"Hongjoong told me a helix, but I'm making a hole in your ear, not his. So you get to decide."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any space left on his ears anyway."

San sighs heavily.

"A helix. Where's that?"

"Upper cartilage."

Wooyoung moves his hair out of the way to show San the exact placing of what Hongjoong wants him to get.

"Not three like me, just one—why are you so pale? Oh God."

Wooyoung tries to keep the laughs in as he runs to get him a glass of water.

"Don't faint!"

He shouts from the kitchen, also grabbing San cookies in case he actually needs sugar to feel better. When he's back in the living room, San looks just as pale as he did when he left for the kitchen, which is good news because he's not closer to fainting on his carpet.

"Sorry, just thought of the hole— but it looks good on you."

San stutters, moving his eyes away from Wooyoung and focusing on the water only. He's incredibly thirsty.

"Not so sure about me though. What do you recommend?"

"I think it would look good on you as well. It's going to be this metal bar for a few months, then you can switch it to whatever you like— even a small and chic hoop like Seonghwa."

Wooyoung goes on to show all the jewelry he's wearing, but San barely looks at him— he goes from pale to red.

"Okay, do it."

San exhales, licking his lower lip while looking away.

"Don't pass out on me."

Wooyoung repeats again, scared by how pale San keeps looking every time he glances at the table. 

"I'm... fine."

San replies, even though he clearly is not. It's not only because of needles, there are actually a variety of reasons why he's not fine— including Wooyoung’s incredible looks. He looks straight out of a manga, especially with that black shirt two sizes bigger than his.

"Doesn't sound true. Are you completely sure I can go ahead? I mean, you can back out anytime but you'll feel the pain after—"

"Just be gentle? I'm sure you have ways to make your customers feel comfortable."

San tries, scratching the back of his head. He's still looking away from Wooyoung, trying to give his brain only one reason to panic, not two.

Wooyoung chuckles, nodding, looking fondly at San staring at his couch just to avoid looking at him.

"It depends on the person, but usually distracting the client helps. How though, it's different for each client— I think you'll like how nice I can be, San."

Wooyoung uncaps the marker.

"Now sit straight."

"Yes, sir."

San replies before two of his brain cells can connect to formulate something that doesn't sound like he's used to being dominated— because he's not.

"Aren't we an obedient kid?"

Wooyoung chuckles, a finger very softly touching San's face right under his chin. He straightens his head, theoretically it helps with locating where to mark, but since the piercing is not on San's face, the only purpose is to see how much Wooyoung can push before San breaks.

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"More than a little, yes."

San barely nods, not wanting to lose the position Wooyoung has given him with his finger slightly pushing under his chin. The touch burns his skin, and he can barely ignore the feeling, but he does in hopes of not getting caught blushing hard. He believes focusing on his fear will stray the conversation away from topics that would make him crumble worse than a needle close to his skin.

"It's not that I don't trust you, and it's not that I don't want to do it, but the needle, the pain, and the needle— I hate the process but I want the end result. Does it make sense?"

"A lot of people are like you, San. It's nothing I've never heard before. Left or right?"

Wooyoung moves the San’s head left and right, only holding loosely onto his chin with two fingers.

"Left."

San replies at once. He has observed his friends and knows his face well— he has thoroughly thought about it when he couldn't sleep.

"I'm not gonna lie,"

Wooyoung sighs, turning San's head to show his left side— he has to keep his cool not to compliment how close to perfection San's side profile looks.

"it's gonna hurt now and for a couple of days. You're gonna need to take care of it like a pet, if not better. I'll leave you a card with every single care measure before you go."

Wooyoung speaks softly as he pins away San's hair from his ear. He doesn't have exceptionally long hair, but it does fall on his ears the tiniest bit.

"But you have a privilege many don't have."

"Do I?"

San manages to say before gasping when Wooyoung sits on his thighs. His eyes widen comically, and he tries to turn his head to check whether or not his body is betraying him with hallucinations, but Wooyoung gently pushes his face back into place with a finger pointed on his jaw.

"Is—is this how you're going to abuse your power?"

He tries not to stutter, but it's difficult when one of the hottest men you've ever seen is sitting on you.

"Exactly. I know you probably don't realize it, but you're shaking an awful. Do you mind my ways?"

Wooyoung tries to sound nonchalant. What he's doing takes a lot of courage, considering how he could be pushed away in a swift move— he's crossing boundaries he shouldn't cross with anyone without checking if that's okay first, let alone someone he's piercing. He can't take San's eyes on him; he needs to feel strong and confident not to crumble under his own decisions. Good thing San can barely look at him anyway. 

To sit on San's lap was not an easy decision to make, but Wooyoung's glad he has come to that conclusion while observing his client's shaking legs. He should have probably asked first, he should have also avoided doing it at all because it's very unprofessional, but San has stopped shaking— probably too distracted by a man straddling his thighs to care about the pain he could feel with the piercing. 

San shakes his head quickly.

"It's okay— I mean, I don't mind."

He curses himself for his shaky breathing, but he really can't do much more to control his lungs— he likes the feeling of Wooyoung sitting on him a little too much. The storm of emotions in him is too strong to think about anything else. It's just Wooyoung in every big screen of his brain. 

"Great. As I was saying, you have a privilege, San-ie."

Wooyoung carefully marks the piercing spot on San's ear.

"Your piercer lives one floor below you, and his workshop is just down the road."

Wooyoung reaches out for a hand mirror on the table and hands it to San.

"Check if you like it."

"Does it mean I can come bother you?"

San asks, looking at himself through the mirror. He likes the spot, not that he understands much about placing earrings, but it looks like it would look pretty in the upper cartilage. As he looks at himself, he gains a little bit of confidence to flirt back— he is good-looking, he can confide in that much even though he's making a fool out of himself because of a single stupid needle.

"You can go a step further."

Wooyoung mumbles, sounding focused. Judging by the sound of plastic, San understands he must have picked up the needle. He lowers the mirror to sit still and not hit Wooyoung's body by mistake— since they're so close, it's very difficult not to touch him. He has to stay more still than a statue.

Wooyoung indeed has the needle in his hands, looking at San's side profile to wait for the right moment to pierce him— when he's distracted enough, he doesn't want him to stop breathing and actually pass out. Wooyoung has seen it happen; it's happened more often than not.

"What do you mean?"

San tries to stay focused on their conversation as he doesn't want to think about what might be happening away from his eyes. The idea of Wooyoung being interested in him makes him feel much better than the needle going through his skin.

"You could text me updates about your piercing."

Wooyoung hopes for a gasp, a moment of utter tension he can break by piercing the ear. But it doesn't happen; San only smiles and agrees with him.

"I'd love to. I'm not good at taking care of things, in general."

San lies; he's great at taking care of everything— he has a cat that lives its best life in his apartment, he has plants greener than the ones in a greenhouse, and he takes great care of his body. The proposal actually knocks the air out of his lungs, but he pretends he doesn't have the urge to gasp, stutter, and beg for the phone number.

Wooyoung is stunned. Considering the way their conversation was going, considering how easily San blushed back at the dinner table and how he stuttered at each and every one of his flirting attempts— Wooyoung thought that would have been it. He's usually great at reading people, but it only makes San more intriguing to him since he has messed up understanding him.

Regardless, the tattoo artist has to change strategy. There's only one other he can take, hoping San doesn't actually lose consciousness— not that he wouldn't take care of him, but it's never a great thing to pass out.

"I'll give you my number once we're done. Now breathe in deeply."

Wooyoung instructs him as he sterilizes the needle and the earring.

"I'm going to be so quick you won't notice it until I'm done. But it's going to sting, and I want you to tell me the moment you feel it."

San does as he's told. When Wooyoung instructs him to release his breath, he does so without thinking about what it could mean— he hasn't had many occasions to work through pain management. As he goes through reasons why Wooyoung might want him to control his breathing, he feels something like a pinch from hell in his ear— it barely lasts a second, he doesn't even have time to voice it before Wooyoung taps his shoulder gently.

"I'm done. How are you doing?"

"That was it?"

San blinks quickly, trying to get rid of the tears that have come out because of the pain— against his wishes, of course. It was quick, but quite painful; he just didn't have time to voice it.

Wooyoung chuckles, nodding.

"Take a look, it's in. Did it hurt a lot?"

Wooyoung keeps patting San's shoulder as the taller takes a look at his first earring. It looks cooler than he thought it would— the area around it is quite red, and there's a bit of blood dripping down his ear.

"Like a painful pinch. Now it's burning, but it's not that painful."

San shakes his head slowly.

"Is that normal?"

"Very."

Wooyoung nods.

"Let me clean you up a second, and then I'll give you some ice to put on it."

He reaches out for gauze this time; it's a bit farther than the mirror was, so he has to adjust himself on San's legs to grab it— it's not an impressive move, but San rolls his eyes and looks away. Suddenly, his ear is not the part of his body throbbing with blood that worries him.

Wooyoung notices the other's lips tighten in a straight line. He has an idea why the guy's having a hard time, and it makes him smirk. He doesn't want to make it any worse, so he stops moving and starts cleaning around the metal bar. San's grateful he can focus back on the burning in his ear and not the one in his lower abdomen.

"Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."

Wooyoung coaches him, stopping for a moment to monitor his reaction after a few strokes with the gauze. He keeps going only when San has stopped squeezing his eyes shut like a toddler.

"You're good."

San mumbles.

"At what? I'm multitasking at the moment."

Wooyoung laughs, checking on San again before applying some alcohol-free sanitizer on the piercing. He moves slowly, gently, carefully— San can't even lash out at him for the pain because he's trying to minimize it.

"Everything."

He says, after contemplating what exactly he wants the other to know— which is everything and nothing at the same time.

"I hope flirting is included in everything. I'm being very unprofessional at the moment, and I really hope you notice."

Wooyoung smiles, almost shyly— even though he's being incredibly upfront, he's forcing himself to look this confident because he's actually not. This is not his usual self; it's just what he believes San needs to take a step towards him.

Wooyoung has studied San the tiniest bit while they had dinner at Hongjoong and Seonghwa's place, and he has come to the conclusion the guy has a crush on him— which is great because Wooyoung finds him incredibly hot and adorable at the same time. In Wooyoung's opinion, San's like sweet bread right out of the oven: dangerously hot, incredibly soft, and, more than anything, addicting.

*

Wooyoung steps into the apartment as soon as Seonghwa opens the door, an excited grin tugging at his lips. He’s been meaning to visit Seonghwa’s new place for weeks now, ever since his best friend moved in with Hongjoong, but work and life kept getting in the way. Tonight, he’s finally made time, and he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not prioritizing Seonghwa sooner. The final boxes were moved today, but, by the looks of it, the transition had happened long before this dinner invitation. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have been sharing a bed for a month now— this gathering seems more like a celebratory finishing touch than anything else.

As Wooyoung removes his shoes, Seonghwa stops him before he can head into the living room. There’s a glint in his eye, one that Wooyoung recognizes all too well.

"You should keep an eye on him."

Seonghwa whispers conspiratorially, nodding toward the other guest inside.

"He’s nice."

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow but nods slowly, unsure of how to take that advice. He’s not in the market for any kind of relationship right now— between managing his shop and looking after himself, his plate is full. But when Wooyoung steps into the living room and his gaze lands on the man in question, the air shifts. Nice doesn’t begin to cover it. The man is stunning. His sharp, strong features contrast with the softness in his eyes, giving him an approachable yet enigmatic aura.

Wooyoung’s usual cocky demeanor falters, but he recovers quickly, stepping forward with a small smirk. "

Jung Wooyoung. I’m the one responsible for permanently marking Hongjoong and Seonghwa."

San’s smile is hesitant but welcoming nevertheless, his movements slightly awkward as he reaches out to shake Wooyoung’s hand.

"Good job. I’m Choi San, Hongjoong’s colleague."

The moment their hands touch, a spark ignites. It’s fleeting but undeniable, a heat that travels up Wooyoung’s arm and settles somewhere uncomfortably deep in his chest. San’s gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, and Wooyoung swears his heart skips a beat. Weird, these things don't happen to him usually. 

Wooyoung is drawn to San. There’s something about the way he fidgets under Wooyoung’s gaze, the way his eyes keep drifting toward the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. The tension between them is palpable, electrifying. Wooyoung isn’t sure what it means, but he knows he doesn’t want to ignore it. He only pretends to be annoyed by the way the couple pushes them together at every given opportunity— when Hongjoong jokingly remarks about the two of them being both single and gay, he shoots his friend a pointed glare, almost like he's resisting the urge to kill his steady source of income.

The more the evening unfolds, the clearer it becomes that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are in fact up to something. Hongjoong’s effusive praises of Wooyoung’s artistic talent feels more like bait than a genuine compliment. Seonghwa’s smirks and subtle nudges only add to Wooyoung’s suspicions, he's usually a witness of his boyfriend's antics, never a fueler.

San, for his part, isn’t subtle either. He struggles to maintain eye contact with Wooyoung, shifting uncomfortably every time their gazes meet. When Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in silent questioning, San quickly looks away, his face becoming redder by the second. Hongjoong, the instigator, pours him another glass of water with a knowing chuckle.

Wooyoung notices everything. The way San’s eyes trace the tattoos on his arms, lingering on the designs sneaking out from under his rolled-up sleeves. The way his gaze flickers to Wooyoung’s lip ring. It's just incredibly obvious there's something boiling up under the surface.

Deciding to test the waters, Wooyoung leans into the attention. He adjusts his lip ring with his thumb, pushes his hair back to expose his ear piercings, and folds his sleeves higher, revealing more inked skin.

Seonghwa snorts at his antics, but Wooyoung doesn’t care. He’s already committed to this game of silent flirtation, and judging by San’s reactions— by his flushed cheeks, his widened eyes, the way he gulps nervously, it’s working.

Things come to a head when Wooyoung, absentmindedly scratching at a fresh tattoo on his ribs, asks Seonghwa for moisturizing cream. He doesn’t think twice about unbuttoning one side of his shirt to show the irritated skin, completely forgetting San’s presence in the apartment— he has been in the bathroom for the longest time, Wooyoung forgot the possibility of him coming out of it right when half of his torso is exposed to the air. 

The moment Wooyoung exposes the tattoo, San’s eyes snap to the inked design, traveling down Wooyoung’s torso with an intensity that sends heat rushing to Wooyoung’s cheeks. He's used to be the object of stares, but San's feels different on him. Seonghwa, ever the helpful friend, applies the cream right when San's staring at them, Wooyoung of course flinches at the contact, wincing at the pain. Then Wooyoung notices San’s sharp intake of breath, he doesn't pay too much mind to it as the pain is numbing him from every other source of thoughts in the room, until he catches on the growing tension in San’s pants as he lowers his gaze to the floor. Except, his eyes never end up staring at the floor, they go back up on San's face in an instant. 

The realization strikes them both at the same time. San’s face goes beet red, and before Wooyoung can say a word, San bolts back towards in the bathroom, muttering something incomprehensible.

Wooyoung stares at the void left by him, stunned. He bites back a grin, the corners of his mouth twitching as he buttons his shirt back up— he even forgets about his skin burning on his side. Seonghwa snickers, clearly enjoying the show, while Hongjoong shakes his head with an exasperated laugh.

*

San doesn't reply, he nods ever so slightly not to bother Wooyoung's moves as he finishes cleaning the wound. Wooyoung watches San carefully, he seems to be holding his breath, his body is tense in every point Wooyoung's eyes can reach. Wooyoung can tell he’s fighting an internal battle— he's clearly trying to ignore whatever uncomfortable feelings are bubbling up, who wouldn't with the amount of tension in the air. 

"All done."

Wooyoung finally says, gently placing the gauze down and moving to stand up from San's lap. He still straddles his tights as he packs the used gauze in a small plastic bag.

"But I think you might need a little more than just some ice for that blush."

San chuckles weakly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Fuck off"

He mumbles, looking between their bodies before raising his eyes to Wooyoung's face, his hand travels towards the ear to feel the piercing but Wooyoung slaps it away.

"Don't touch it unless you sanitize your hands first. It's still an open wound, San."

"How can you touch it then?"

San winces when Wooyoung slowly rotates the piercing in his ear. 

"I'm wearing a glove, you idiot."

Wooyoung chuckles showing him the hand with the black glove right after. 

"The piercing rotates just fine, I think I did a pretty good job."

"You did."

San says, without even faking to be looking at the pocket mirror in front of him. He has this feeling at the bottom of his abdomen that tells him there's no need to hide what's going on in his head any longer. He's still a bit flustered though, he can't let himself go at a hundred percent because of how ethereal Wooyoung looks— almost unreachable.

"You’re cute when you’re embarrassed."

Wooyoung says out of nowhere, making San's face become ever redder.

The taller tries to look away but there's something about Wooyoung’s presence that pulls him back in. He doesn't know if it’s the flirtation or just Wooyoung’s casual confidence that makes him feel like he's on the edge of something far more dangerous than he’s ready for. But he likes it too much to back off, to push him away from him and leave the house with a thanks.

"I didn’t sign up for all this… energy."

San lets out in a sigh, confused about what's happening in there. He can understand the flirting, he appreciates the compliments, he loves the attention but for the life of him he can't foresee what's going to happen next. 

"You're right."

Wooyoung nods, he slowly goes back to sit in San's lap once again. He should walk to his studio, grab an after care card, add his number and let San go— but he doesn't have any intention to. 

"Hongjoong signed you up for that with this stupid bed. Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

San leans on the backrest of the chair, he doesn't necessarily look for more distance between the two of them, he just wants a better look on that pretty face in front of his.

"You know already, don't you?"

"I know what you told me."

Wooyoung chuckles, placing his hands on his own thighs; they're itching to grab onto San's shoulders but he's aware he just can't break ever barrier between them in a single move out of the blue. 

"It's about me."

"Isn't that enough? Do you have to embarrass me even further?"

San whines, rolling his eyes dramatically. Wooyoung laughs at him, grabbing gently his chin to bring his face right in front of him again— he doesn't want San to escape the eye contact they established just yet. 

"You're cute when you're embarrassed."

Wooyoung repeats.

"I like the blush on your cheeks."

He dares to move his hand to slightly touch his pink right cheek before letting it fall back on his own leg. 

"You're demolishing my pride."

San snorts, his hands almost tingling in need to reach the other's body. It feels like the right move, even though all he knows about the guy is his name, his job, the amount of piercings he has and how good tattoos look on his body. Which is a lot, but definitely not enough to build up the confidence to make that kind of move. He has lost confidence in his flirting abilities over the years, he's not sure he wouldn't just look like a creep if he reached for Wooyoung's waist and held it.

Wooyoung looks for San's eyes again when they stray away from him only to focus on the couch in the background. He gets the message, he gets up from San's lap in a swift move and proceeds to get rid of everything left on the table. 

San suddenly stands up as well, hands in his pockets, causing Wooyoung to look over with an eyebrow raised. He honestly thought the man was frozen in place or something.

"Where are you going?"

He asks, as if the question is simple, but it feels heavier in the moment. Wooyoung is not going to admit it anytime soon, but he doesn't want San to leave yet, he's not completely sure he's going to come back even if the piercing gets infected— at the end of the day his friend has many of the same earrings. 

"I just.."

San’s voice trails off. He's not one to admit things either, not immediately at the very least, but he feels like he might explode if he stays in the same room as Wooyoung for a bit longer.

"I think I need some air, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung chuckles softly, trying to sound carefree and not hurt.

"Are you really that scared of me? I’m not going to bite you San, unless you want me to."

He teases him, trying to lighten the mood. 

San turns to face him, his eyes wide and unsure of how to respond.

"No, it’s just…"

He pauses, feeling more vulnerable than he has in a while.

"I think I need a minute to process the pain— you know, my ear is throbbing."

He adds a slight chuckle, he points at the window right behind where he was sitting just moments prior. 

Wooyoung follows his finger towards the window, glad he's not pointing to the door instead.

"Take all the time you need, it's unlocked."

Wooyoung says, his tone softening.

"Pretty sure I have cigarettes around if you want to smoke— I don't, but my best friend leaves them behind all the time."

San shakes his head, walking backwards towards the window door. 

"I don't smoke."

Wooyoung nods slowly, hinting to the window with his head.

"Then go ahead, I'll be right here when you come back."

San's chest tightens with emotions he can’t quite place but that he knows are much different than mere physical attraction. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Wooyoung's so sweet that he was left speechless, unable to come up with words right for the situation between the two of them. What's worse, when Wooyoung smiles at him he feels his insides melt into putty. Wooyoung is objectively hot, no one can deny that, but he's also the most adorable human being San's ever come across.

With that, San nods slowly and heads toward the window door. As he opens it, he feels Wooyoung’s eyes on him, and the weight of them makes him hesitate to actually step outside. But he pushes through, he really need the cool air hitting his face, it's refreshing just like a splash of cold water.

He leans against the wall, almost hiding, as he tries to collect his thoughts. His ear throbs, but it's nothing compared to the way his heart is beating out of his chest. He’s not sure what just happened, but it feels like something shifted. Something he can't undo now— everything started shifting the moment Wooyoung entered Hongjoong's apartment, but he wonders if things would have gone differently if his friend hadn't left a flea in his ear about the tattoo artist about to joining them. 

San wonders what is he exactly so afraid of. The physical attraction is undeniable, and just moments ago, the opportunity to act on it was practically handed to him on a silver platter. Yet, he couldn’t take it. He knows the way his heart stutters in an uneven rhythm whenever Wooyoung smiles at him isn’t just about physical attraction— it’s something deeper, something he’s reluctant to name. Hongjoong called him everything-starved, and maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe it's just that? Even if it doesn't make much sense, San has never been driven by starvation, he can handle it quite well. 

Leaning against the wall, the cold air biting at his skin, San exhales sharply, desperate to steady the chaos in his mind. The problem isn’t just Wooyoung’s maddening combination of sexy and adorable— it’s the way Wooyoung looks at him, as if he’s peeling back every layer of San’s carefully built defenses. It’s maddening, intoxicating, and completely terrifying. The intensity makes it hard to think straight. Not that there’s much straight about him when all he can think about is how it would feel to hold Wooyoung close, to never let go. San knows he’s too far gone for his own good.

He’s not some inexperienced teenager, clueless about his feelings. He knows exactly what these palpitations are, why his blood travels to the lower regions at the smallest smile or the lightest touch. He knows what it’s like to be drawn to someone so intensely that looking away feels impossible, even if it means being caught red-handed. The twisting in his stomach, the lump in his throat— he knows these signs all too well. This isn’t just physical attraction. It’s more. It’s deeper. And it's not need. 

San knows he has a massive crush on the man in that apartment. But he also knows he can’t afford another heartbreak. His last one felt like it nearly broke him, and he’s convinced another could be his last— maybe for good this time.

He’s had his fair share of relationships: boyfriends for the most part, and even a girlfriend at one point. But never, not once, has he fallen this hard, this fast, for someone he barely knows. It’s like the moment he met Wooyoung, something clicked. They connected instantly, almost like they recognized each other from a past life. It’s dizzying, this feeling. It’s the first time San has ever felt like kneeling for someone after just two minutes of them talking about something as mundane as what to cook for a friend’s birthday.

It’s sickening, the way every fiber of his being aches for Wooyoung. Any version of him would do— a friend, a companion, anything. And yet, every time San thinks of a way to stay connected past the night they're sharing, he shakes his head, dismissing it as foolish. He’s already folding for this man after only a few hours together. How could he possibly survive an entire night in his apartment? Or worse, a moment in his studio— professional Wooyoung, with his hair tied back in a low ponytail and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.. just crazy to even think about it. San imagines it and feels himself unraveling. He knows he wouldn’t stand a chance.

And then there’s Wooyoung’s sweetness. His effortless care for his clients. San knows the lap thing was probably an exception, but even so, he’s sure Wooyoung is the kindest, most patient tattoo artist alive. He’d have to be, he’s Seonghwa’s tattoo artist, after all, and there’s no way Seonghwa can sit still for more than ten minutes.

San sighs again, his frustration heavy and unrelenting. He sighs to himself, to the endless questions swirling in his head, and to the lack of solutions that could bring him any comfort.

Inside, Wooyoung watches San through the glass, head tilted slightly because the wall is doing an awfully incredibly job hiding him. His lips curl into a small smile when he catches the other staring at the nothingness of the night— it's way past midnight, there's absolutely nothing he could be staring at besides the darkness of the sky. There’s something almost endearing about the way San retreated, even though Wooyoung feels guilty about it. He doesn't know whether his moves are the cause of his need for fresh air, and he honestly can't wait days to find out.

Wooyoung isn’t one to push too far, but he’s also not one to leave unfinished business.

He grabs a bottle of water from the counter, cracks it open, and casually steps toward the window. He slides it open just enough to stick his head out, checking if the mood is the right one to invade his space after he said he would be waiting inside.

San's a bit startled, his hand frozen mid-movement as he was about to rub his temples. He looks at Wooyoung, who’s leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin— he's desperately trying not to feel the heaviness of their situation, trying to dismiss how Wooyoung's grin tugs at the strings of his heart so effortlessly. 

"You brought me water?"

San asks, his voice quiet as he looks down at the bottle in his hands.

Wooyoung nods, his movements quick but intentional as he hands it over.

"Here. You looked like you were about to overheat."

San hesitates for a second before taking it, his fingers brushing against Wooyoung’s. The contact is brief, but it sends a spark coursing through him that he tries desperately to ignore. He twists the cap off and takes a long sip, the cool liquid doing little to calm the fire simmering just beneath his skin.

"Thanks."

He murmurs, his eyes darting anywhere but at Wooyoung, as though meeting his gaze might undo him completely.

Wooyoung leans against the closed window beside him, close enough that his presence is impossible to ignore but not so close as to crowd him. He tilts his head, studying San with that same quiet intensity that always leaves him unnerved.

"So,"

Wooyoung begins lightly, his tone casual.

"what’s the real reason you ran out here? Don’t tell me it’s just the heat in your ear. I’m good at reading people, San, and you’re not exactly subtle."

San huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he sets the bottle down on the windowsill.

"You’re really relentless, aren’t you?"

"It’s one of my charms."

Wooyoung grins, wide and mischievous, but then his expression softens, his teasing tone giving way to genuine concern.

"Seriously though. You don’t have to tell me, but if it’s something I said or did—"

"It’s not,"

San interrupts, his voice firmer than he intended. He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair as he struggles to put his thoughts into words.

"I’m okay with everything you’ve done. It’s not you, it’s just..."

He trails off, his frustration evident as he presses his back against the wall, feeling the cool surface steady him. Words fail him, stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat.

Wooyoung doesn’t press. He waits, his gaze steady but not overbearing, giving San the space to gather himself.

"Take your time."

He says quietly, his voice laced with patience.

San finally lifts his eyes, really looking at Wooyoung for the first time since stepping outside. The dim light from inside the apartment casts soft shadows on his face, highlighting every delicate curve and edge. Wooyoung’s gaze is unwavering, and San feels that tightness in his chest again— the ache of wanting something he’s not sure he can have.

"You’re overwhelming."

He finally admits, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.

That’s it. That’s the word he’s been searching for.

Wooyoung blinks, momentarily taken aback, before letting out a soft chuckle.

"Overwhelming? That’s a new one. Usually, I get intimidating or charming as hell."

San groans, tilting his head back against the wall as a small, self-deprecating smile pulls at his lips.

"See? This is what I mean. You’re so confident. You walk into a room and own it, and I’m just... stuck overthinking everything— my moves, yours, all of it."

Wooyoung’s grin fades slightly, replaced by something more sincere. He leans in just a fraction, his voice dropping lower.

"You think I don’t overthink too?"

He asks, his tone softer, more intimate.

"I do. I just don’t let it stop me."

San turns his head toward him, his surprise evident.

"Really?"

"Really."

Wooyoung nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You’re not the only one who feels like they might mess everything up. The difference is, I take the risk anyway."

The honesty in Wooyoung’s words hits San like a wave, washing over the tension in his shoulders and leaving something warmer in its place. The silence between them shifts, no longer filled with pressure but with an unspoken understanding.

"Maybe I should try that."

San mutters, more to himself than to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s grin returns, softer this time, as he nudges San lightly with his shoulder.

"Maybe you should. Starting now."

San raises an eyebrow.

"Now?"

"Yeah."

Wooyoung’s gaze locks onto his, daring him.

"Take a chance. Do something you wouldn’t normally do. You’ve already made it this far— with the piercing and all. Why stop there?"

The weight of Wooyoung’s words hangs in the air, and San feels his chest tighten all over again. His heart pounds loudly, drowning out the world around him. He stares at Wooyoung, the challenge clear in his dark eyes, but he doesn’t move.

Wooyoung watches him closely for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before letting out a soft laugh.

"Alright,"

He says, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets again.

"I’ll let you off the hook for now. I’ll be inside."

San doesn’t stop him as he turns and walks back into the apartment, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The cold air nips at San’s skin, grounding him in the quiet, but it doesn’t ease the ache left by Wooyoung’s absence. He presses a hand to his face, muttering under his breath.

"What are you doing, idiot?"

Images of Wooyoung flash through his mind— his teasing smile, his gentle words, the way he somehow managed to disarm San with a single look. There’s something about him that pulls San in, leaving him restless and aching at the thought of letting this moment slip away.

San clenches his fists, his mind spinning. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or what’s right, but he knows one thing for certain: he doesn’t want to walk away.

With a deep breath, he pushes himself off the wall and heads back inside, his steps quick and purposeful. The living room is dimly lit, music playing softly in the background, and Wooyoung is sitting on the couch, one leg tucked beneath him, scrolling through his phone.

San hesitates for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. But then he crosses the room in a few strides, stopping directly in front of Wooyoung.

Wooyoung looks up, startled.

"Back already? Miss me alr—"

Before Wooyoung can finish his sentence, San leans down, his heart hammering in his chest, and presses his lips to Wooyoung’s in a swift yet tentative move. The kiss is soft, testing, like a question San isn’t sure how to ask aloud. It carries the weight of all the unspoken thoughts he’s buried deep, all the emotions he hasn’t dared to unravel.

For a moment, time slows to a halt. The world fades into the background, leaving only the warmth of Wooyoung’s lips against his own, grounding him in the moment.

Wooyoung freezes, his breath catching, but the surprise lasts only a heartbeat. Then, his phone slips from his hand, landing first on his lap and then sliding to the floor, forgotten. Without hesitation, Wooyoung reaches up, his fingers curling into the fabric of San’s shirt as he gently pulls him closer.

The kiss deepens, Wooyoung’s movements filled with a deliberate intensity that melts away San’s hesitation. San lets himself go too, finally relaxing into the touch and allowing himself to feel all of Wooyoung.

His thumbs brush softly over Wooyoung’s cheekbones, a small, reverent gesture as he leans further into the kiss. It feels natural, as though this moment was always meant to happen, as though the universe had been guiding them here all along. Also, almost like it's something they're used to, something they've done countless times. 

San loses himself in the softness, the warmth, the quiet fire that Wooyoung brings with him. Every touch, every second feels electrifying, and yet it’s comforting in a way that surprises him.

When they finally pull apart, San’s breath comes out uneven, and he opens his eyes slowly to find Wooyoung already looking at him. His gaze is intense, searching, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

San feels a flutter of nerves in his chest, but Wooyoung’s lips curve into a teasing smile, his voice slightly breathless as he speaks.

"Well, that’s one way to take a chance."

A shaky laugh escapes San, and he leans forward slightly, his forehead resting gently against Wooyoung’s. His hand grips the backrest of the couch for balance, not wanting to put too much weight on the man beneath him.

"I’ve wanted to do it for a while."

He admits, his voice barely above a whisper. It feels strange to say it aloud, but there’s no need to be louder— Wooyoung is right there, close enough to hear even the softest confession.

Wooyoung’s hands slide down from where they’d gripped San’s shirt, settling on his hips. The touch is grounding, steadying.

"You did now."

Wooyoung murmurs, his gaze flickering to San’s lips before meeting his eyes again. A small grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"And you were pretty damn good at it."

San smiles, heat creeping into his cheeks as a faint bashfulness softens his expression.

"I couldn’t walk away without—"

"I wouldn’t have let you."

Wooyoung interrupts, his voice quieter but laced with a certainty that makes San’s heart skip. His teasing demeanor fades for a moment, replaced by something softer, more sincere.

"You weren’t going to leave this apartment without clearing things up."

San chuckles softly, his breath brushing against Wooyoung’s lips.

"We haven’t exactly cleared anything yet."

Wooyoung hums in agreement, his smile returning as he closes the small distance between them.

"Then we should get started."

Before San can respond, Wooyoung leans in and kisses him again, the movement swift but deliberate. San doesn’t resist— he tilts his head slightly, meeting Wooyoung’s lips with a newfound confidence. This kiss is different. It’s deeper, more heated, and San can feel the way Wooyoung’s fingers curl against his hips, holding him firmly in place as though he might disappear.

"Wooyoung..."

San gasps when Wooyoung grabs his shirt and shifts them on the couch, moving effortlessly until he straddles San’s thighs.

"We should get to know each other."

San’s smile turns amused, entertained by how easily Wooyoung makes himself comfortable. It’s not the first time Wooyoung has sat on his lap, but it's the first time he probably plans on staying on it for quite some time.

Wooyoung leans close, his voice dropping into something softer, almost teasing.

"I can show you all of my tattoos. Would that be enough to know me better?"

San’s hands slide instinctively to Wooyoung’s sides, but when his fingers graze a sensitive spot near Wooyoung’s fresh tattoo, he lets out a quiet, pained whimper. The sound is brief, quickly masked by the smirk Wooyoung flashes before tucking his face into the crook of San’s neck.

San blinks, momentarily stunned by how startlingly attractive that smirk was before regaining his composure. He can’t help but laugh softly, his voice low and teasing as he replies

"We can start with that one, if you want. Then, one by one, I can show you all thirty of them."

Wooyoung’s smirk softens as he lifts his head from San’s neck, his hands still resting lightly on San’s hips. He tilts his head, his eyes searching San’s face, and for the first time since they started this dance, San sees something a little more vulnerable flicker in his gaze.

“Do you want to do this, San? Because I’m all in if you are.”

His voice still tinged with that teasing lilt but quieter now, almost testing the waters.

San blinks, startled by how straightforward Wooyoung can be. The words hang in the air, bold and unflinching, and for a moment, all San can do is stare at him. His heart feels like it’s working overtime, but at the same time, there’s a strange calm in hearing Wooyoung say what he’s been too afraid to put into words himself.

“I—”

San starts, then pauses, his hands fidgeting against Wooyoung’s sides. He knows what he wants, but the knot of nerves in his chest makes it hard to push the words out.

“I think we should talk. Like, really talk. This... whatever this is, I don’t want to mess it up by rushing into something we haven’t figured out yet.”

Wooyoung tilts his head, his lips curling into a soft smile that’s equal parts fondness and mischief.

“Talking’s overrated.”

“Wooyoung—”

“I’m serious.”

Wooyoung interrupts, his grin widening as he presses closer, their faces just inches apart. He leaves a soft peck on San's lips, one that has San's world turn upside down for a moment. He's truly intoxicating. 

“What’s there to figure out? I like you. You like me. We’ve already kissed. And we’re both adults, so...”

His hands slide a little lower, fingers toying with the hem of San’s shirt.

“Why waste time talking when we could be doing something a lot more fun?”

San groans, but there’s no real frustration in it. If anything, he feels like laughing.

“You’re impossible.”

“You like it.”

San lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“I do. Unfortunately.”

He admits before his brain can stop him from letting the truth out in one simple go. He feels lighter now, more at ease.

Wooyoung leans forward, brushing their noses together in a way that makes San’s breath hitch.

“So, let’s make this easy. You can talk all you want later— hell, you can give me a whole power point presentation about yourself if that’s what it takes to put your mind at ease. But right now...”

His voice drops, his tone playful yet serious.

“Let me prove to you how good we could be together.”

San feels his resolve waver, his body reacting instinctively to Wooyoung’s proximity. But then he shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he presses a hand lightly to Wooyoung’s chest to create a little space between them.

“I’m not saying no. I’m just saying let’s take a breath. I want to talk, then you can show me how good we can be together."

Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise slightly, his smirk faltering into something more genuine. “Talk first, then whatever comes after?”

“Exactly.”

Wooyoung sighs dramatically, leaning back just enough to make his point, though his hands stay firmly on San’s hips.

“Fine. You win. We’ll talk.”

San raises an eyebrow, sensing the but in Wooyoung’s tone. Indeed, it's just around the corner.

“But,”

Wooyoung continues, grinning.

“only if I get to keep you right here while we do it. Non-negotiable.”

San rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move to push Wooyoung off.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re still sitting here, so I must be doing something right.”

San bites back a laugh, his smile softening as he meets Wooyoung’s gaze.

“Alright, we’ll do it your way. But I’m serious— if we’re going to do this, I need to know we’re on the same page. No games. No mixed signals.”

Wooyoung’s expression shifts slightly, the teasing glint in his eyes giving way to something steadier, more serious.

“No games.”

He promises, his voice soft but resolute.

“I mean it, San. Whatever this is I’m all in.”

The sincerity in Wooyoung’s words makes San’s chest tighten in a way that feels almost overwhelming, but this time, he doesn’t try to push it away. Instead, he lets it settle, lets it warm him from the inside out.

"I'm not one who wants to settle down. I'm okay with being occasional and just purely physical. I usually am like that, but right now, because of your stupidly pretty face and incredibly kind and cute soul, I just want to say yes to the dress."

San bursts out in a loud laughter, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Wooyoung laughs with him, but softer— he sounds almost scared. San instinctively brings a hand down on Wooyoung's thigh and caresses it slowly. 

"I mean it when I say I like you. It's weird. It only took a moment and I fell head over heels and I never got up again. You're intoxicating— you're— you make me want to be good at communicating just so I don't risk to lose you. You get how weird that is?"

"I get it."

San nods slowly, still caressing Wooyoung's leg. 

"Thank you, for telling me. I'm in this shit as much as you are, just so you know."

"We're too far gone, aren't we?"

Wooyoung mumbles, scooting closer once again only to leave another peck on San's lips, one that lingers for seconds more than it should have. 

"We are."

San says, his voice barely above a whisper but steady. 

"I like you too."

Wooyoung puts some distance between their faces only to be able to look at San's eyes, his heart fills with warmth immediately. His lips open but nothing leaves his mouth, he has been left speechless for the first time in a long while— it has happened only a handful of times. Wooyoung knew already San had a thing for him, but to hear those words himself, that directly, it makes an impact for sure. He's not used to hear them.

"Can you keep kissing me?"

San asks politely when Wooyoung seems close to stop breathing. 

“Finally. Talking and kissing. Best of both worlds.”

Wooyoung mumbles, trying to look back to his normal self. San laughs, the sound soft and unguarded as he leans his head back against the couch.

“You’re not going to let me leave this apartment tonight, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Wooyoung’s lips brush against San’s neck, and San shivers, his grip tightening slightly on Wooyoung’s legs.

They both know the one coming isn't going to be a simple conversation. But somehow, in the push and pull of their dynamic, it feels right. 

San tilts his head, catching Wooyoung’s lips in another kiss. It’s slow, unhurried, but it carries the promise of what’s to come. Between the laughter, the teasing, and the quiet moments of honesty, San knows they’ll figure it out, and they'll do it together.