Archive of Our Own

Wooyoung is sinking.

It is currently 01:34am. At least he thinks that's what his alarm clock reads, it’s hard to make out with part of his face smashed into the pillow. He just finished writing his paper a few hours ago- just barely making the 11:59pm deadline, yet now he lies awake unable to rest.

It’s become a common occurrence for him these past few years in university, though never this bad. His anxiety has been through the roof these past few months, the disgusting internal feeling of dread filling him so completely even his moments of calm are no longer as relaxing as they should be.

Second semester was supposed to be lighter- he had less courses, the winter season was nearing its end, and he was finally feeling like he had a rhythm to his days. He wasn’t supposed to feel like…this. He had no real reason to feel like this. He had his friends who loved him endlessly, he had parents who supported him financially so he never had to worry about money, and he had San who, simply, loved him.

He paused. When was the last time he even saw his boyfriend…or anyone for that matter. He isn’t in classes with any of them, nor did his schedule line up with them this semester. His mind and memory were so foggy these past few weeks. Hell- he didn’t even know where his phone was, the last time he had it was when he was paying for his coffee… two days ago..? No- because he paid with cash… What day even was it?

He sighed as he willed his heavy limbs to sit himself back up, wincing as he accidentally hit his elbow on his laptop he left on his bed from earlier. Wooyoung felt his head grow light from his quick attempt to get up. He hated this. Feeling so bleak, so drained of life. He doesn’t even remember when he fell back into an episode. Normally, he can feel them coming, or at least that’s what he tells himself. After so many years of dealing with this, you’d think it would get easier.

A weak huff of amusement exhaled from him as thoughts continued to pile on each other. The constant swarm of negativity and self-hatred was clogging his mind. He was suffocating himself with no way to stop. He clawed at his neck, nails digging into the skin as his arm moved unconsciously, matching the pace of his racing mind. His mind wandered to his friends.. to San.. It had been a few days of radio silence on his end. He can only imagine what his inbox looks like. Speaking of which, Wooyoung needed to find his phone. He sighed, not wanting to have to move. Everything was too heavy.

Thinking about his phone and all the missed calls and messages he probably received made his heart squeeze slightly. On one hand, he felt awful for not contacting anyone. On the other hand, he hoped they were worried about him.

God was he pathetic.

These episodes are nothing new for him. Ever since he was a child they came and went, taking parts of him with it every time. As well as building his walls up higher and higher. He knew he had people who loved him, who cherished him, who would do anything to be there with him and support him, but he could never bring himself to be vulnerable with them. He could never admit he needed help, that he was weak.

It’s not like his friends didn’t know that he had…issues. It’s just that they never brought it up because he went through great lengths to paint everything as fine. That it was all something they could joke about.

“Wooyoung just gets like that sometimes.”

“He’s such a cat, runs away and comes crawling back when he’s ready to bless us with his presence once more.”

“He gets fed up with us sometimes and likes to go reset on his own”

It’s not that any of these comments are wrong, they just aren’t… accurate? He knows they all mean it in good fun, and he encourages these comments. It’s easier to play everything off as comedy rather than actually explain to people that there’s something wrong with you. For that he is grateful- that his friends notice but never push him to come forward with an explanation.

Except there’s a small part of him that wishes they would…that selfish voice in his head begging to be coddled, taken care of, and told that it will be okay.

Eurgh.

Just thinking about how pathetic he could be made him shutter. He yawned, stretching his arms before deciding to get up and start to search for his most likely dead phone. His room was dark, only illuminated by the streetlight seeping in through his partially closed curtains. He stumbled as he lazily glazed around, looking for his phone. Unable to find it in his room, he made his way out to the washroom, hoping he left it on the counter. Wooyoung flicked on the light, wincing at how bright the small bathroom suddenly became. He noted his phone on the side of the bathtub, grabbing it before trying to turn it on. Dead. Just like he thought. He sighed to himself before dragging his feet back to his room when he paused. He glanced down at the sink at the bottom drawer. He felt a wave of urges wash over him all at once.

Slowly, Wooyoung placed his phone down on the floor. Moving himself down to sit beside the sink, his back resting on the now closed door. He stared at the drawer, knowing what it contained. Wooyoung was no stranger to unhealthy coping mechanisms. He could feel his shorts resting against the old scars on his upper thighs and hips. His skin itched as he sat in silence, as if tempting him. His eyes, despite their heaviness, never left the drawer. His breathing was steady, his mind an eerie quiet. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there before he reached forward, pulling it open.

~

6 months. It had been 6 months since he last gave into these urges. All down the drain. No tears fell, they never did. He sat there in silence. The blade on the floor, discarded in one of the many pools of blood. His legs twitched in pain as blood continued to flow from the deeper wounds. He missed this. This relief, this comfort. He felt his eyes finally growing heavy, sleep was finally coming. He knew he shouldn’t, not before cleaning himself up, but he was just so tired.

Wooyoung gently laid himself on his side, the cold tile a stark contrast to his warm skin. He could feel the wetness of the blood seeping into the fabric of his clothes, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. His eyes grew heavy as he felt sleep take over him.

~

When he finally awoke again, a sharp throbbing pain was felt over the entirety of his side. He weakly pushed himself up, feeling the crusted blood crack itself from his skin. He felt infinitely worse than before. The satisfaction has worn off, leaving him with nothing but the consuming feeling of regret. The light of the bathroom was still on from when he fell asleep, adding to the rapidly developing headache. He winced, pain radiating from his legs. He didn’t bother to look at what he had done. The mess he left on the floor said enough.

Sighing, he slowly willing his body up. His eyes gazed over the scene around him, dried blood pools scattered the floor, the discarded blade and bloodied towel to the side, the drawer still open. God it was a mess. As he started to remove his shirt, trying to ignore the crusted blood peeling along with it, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror.

He looked awful.

His hair oily and all shifted to his right side, dried blood cracking off his skin due to him lying in some of the blood from the night prior, his eyebags were deep and purple. He looked like death.

Wooyoung moved himself to the shower, turning it on as he removed the rest of his clothes. He paused before removing his shorts, finally looking at what he had done. Aside from the large amount of blood caked onto his skin and some of the more shallow wounds, there were a few still open. He cursed under his breath, knowing that showering was going to be a thousand times more painful. Wooyoung knew he didn’t need stitches, even if he did he wouldn’t get them anyways. He stared down at his legs, the silence in the apartment was deafening. 6 months. Those numbers replay in his mind over and over as he moves his skin, watching as his open wounds move around. He sighed, finally moving himself into the shower to clean.

~

Freshly washed, feeling a bit less gross, Wooyoung sluggishly moved back to his bedroom with his phone in hand. He’s left it dead long enough. After plugging it in, he returned to the washroom to finish drying his hair. The numbness lingered from his shower, allowing for his mind to give him a break from the constant train of thoughts. As he went through the motions of drying the rest of his hair, a set of knocks filled his apartment. He paused before continuing to dry his hair- dismissing it as probably just a sales person. It wasn’t until the second set of knocks filled his home that he stopped with what he was doing.

“Someone's insistent…” He grumbled to himself before starting to walk back into his bedroom. He didn’t have the energy to deal with whoever was out there. As he was grabbing a new sweatshirt to put on another set of knocks filled his apartment and a familiar voice followed.

“Wooyoung, open the door, I can hear you moving inside.” San’s voice came from outside, muffled by the door. Wooyoung’s chest immediately filled with anxiety. What was he doing here? Why now? Panicked, he moved quickly to the main room, his eyes catching the bathroom with the light still on- showcasing the bloody mess left on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck-

“I’m serious Woo, please just open the door. You haven’t answered anyone for days.” San’s voice filled his empty apartment as he rushed to turn off the light and close the door to try and hide the evidence. While rushing he bumped his hip against the kitchen counter. Cursing under his breath, he made it to the door, taking a breath before preparing himself to open the door.

“How’d you even hear that, do you have some sort of super hearing ability you didn’t tell me about.” He tried to joke, his voice coming out rougher than intended as he opened the door. He looked up, his eyes meeting with San’s. God he looked so beautiful. San was always put together, no matter the occasion and even when he wasn’t- he still managed to take Wooyoung’s breath away.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” San said bluntly, the worry in his eyes seeping into his voice. “Or my calls.” He glanced over Wooyoung- taking in the man’s disheveled state.

“My phone's been dead- sorry about that…” He said, his hand coming to his neck, scratching anxiously. San’s eyes never left him, waiting for Wooyoung to speak. A silence fell between them, San’s stare unmoving as Wooyoung shifted uncomfortably. San then moved his gaze just past him, taking in the darkness of Wooyoung’s apartment. The tense air was making Wooyoung’s heart race, but he felt as if he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t bring himself to excuse himself, to apologize to his boyfriend. As his mind started to run its course once more, he suddenly felt a gentle touch on his hand- stopping it from scratching at his neck anymore.

He let San guide his hand down and into his own, his eyes not daring to meet his boyfriends. They stood in silence before San spoke again.

“Can we talk?” Wooyoung’s heart sunk further into his chest. This was it. He’d officially done it this time- San was sick of him and his issues. He was fed up with Wooyoung and had come to break it off. Then he would go to all their friends, and they would all comfort San, tell him it would be okay, that Wooyoung was weighing him down. They would all be happy, all happy now that Wooyoung would be out of their lives, no longer able to bother them with his-

“Stop.” San’s voice echoed through his mind, causing Wooyoung to look back up at San. His San- whose eyes were filled with worry and love.

“I can see your mind running on overtime, I want to make sure you’re doing alright,” he explained gently. “I just don’t want to push you if you aren’t ready to talk.”

Wooyoung felt his shoulders relax, though the anxiety in him did not fade. He silently moved aside, letting San follow him into the apartment. He walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass before opening the fridge to get some water. San locked the door behind them, moving into the kitchen with Wooyoung. San’s eyes watched carefully, briefly leaving Wooyoung to take in the darkness of the apartment. Noting the mess of dishes, clothes and things scattered around but not commenting on it.

He moved over to the living room, turning on one of Wooyoung’s lamps to give the place some light. Wooyoung took his glass with him, following in San’s place to the living room. They both sat on Wooyoung’s couch, though Wooyoung made sure he sat on the other side, his back resting against the arm rest and the back. San sat on the other end, making sure not to sit too close in case his presence would overwhelm Wooyoung.

The silence between them felt heavy, unspoken words and worries floating between them. Wooyoung took a sip of his water, not daring to speak first. He knew how this would go. San would ask what's wrong, he wouldn't have an answer. He’d then ask what he can do to help, to which Wooyoung wouldn’t have an answer once more. Then San would stay the night, and Wooyoung would have to muster up a fake smile the next day and make sure they brushed everything off as nothing. He’d apologize for everything with a smile, making jokes and light hearted comments to soothe their worries and no one would bring it up again. It was routine at this point. He had done this for so long that it was expected.

“Do you know what day it is?” San’s voice broke the silence, his eyes never leaving Wooyoung.

He swallowed, he knew he couldn’t lie. There was no point in it either.

“No.”

Silence followed. His eyes never leaving the glass in his hands. He heard San sigh, he tensed in response.

“It’s game night. Mingi and Yunho are hosting this time,” San said softly, as if trying to make casual conversation to ease the tension. Wooyoung didn’t reply. It had been almost two weeks. He had spent two weeks ignoring everyone and wasting away in his apartment. Guilt sunk into his bones as San continued.

“When I got there and noticed you didn’t show I asked everyone if they had heard from you,” A sad laugh left his lips. “I thought you were just ignoring me, you were off the last few times I saw you and thought you just needed space- that you were mad at me or something..”

“But then the others said no one could get a hold of you, that you hadn’t been answering anyone. I knew something was wrong I just thought it was like how it normally was y’know? That you would disappear for a bit and then come back? But Woo, it’s been weeks. Weeks, love. I just-” San stopped talking. Wooyoung’s grip on his glass got tighter the more he spoke. He felt sick. It was one thing for him to think about how much he was hurting the people he loved, but to hear it hurt even worse than he could ever imagine.

“Woo, I'm worried. We are all worried about you. You’ve never disappeared for this long. I mean, I know you always say that we don’t need to worry and that you need these… times alone but I just…” San’s voice cracked lightly as he spoke, Wooyoung knew there were tears in his boyfriends eyes, he knew that sound, he’d heard it so many times before. But this time it was because of him.

“You can’t just do this to us. We aren’t-” He paused. Wooyoung held his breath. He was ready. He knew what was going to follow.

‘You’re too much.’

‘You’re such a burden to us- to me.’

‘I can’t do this anymore.’

‘We’re over.’

His mind continued to race, he didn’t even notice that San was just staring at him. When he eventually moved his eyes up to meet San’s, he felt his heart break more. San, his beautiful, loving, San. Sat on his couch, the warm light from the lamp displaying the tears gently falling down his lover's face. Staring at him with a look of pain, worry and despair.

“We can’t help you if you don’t let us. I- can’t help you,” San’s voice broke with each word. He shifted, wiping his tears before taking a deep breath and looking back at Wooyoung.

“Do you know how much you mean to me? To the others? When you leave like this and come back acting- acting like nothing happened, it… it’s so hard to bring these things up with you because you make everything a joke,” Wooyoung couldn’t stop staring at his boyfriend, his eyes not leaving his lover's tear streaked face.

“And I know you don’t want us to not care. I know that something is stopping you but I just don’t know what it is and I- Wooyoung I want to be there for you. What can I do to make you feel comfortable letting me in. Letting at least one of us in.”

Silence filled the room. Neither of them spoke. San’s eyes moved away from Wooyoung, his arm moving to his face to wipe away his tears. Wooyoung couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, he could barely breathe. Finally, after what felt like forever, a shaky exhale left his mouth. His eyes refused to move from his hands that were fidgeting with his glass.

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice quiet and tired.

He felt movement from San’s side of the couch, but he couldn’t be bothered to look at what was happening. His mind was blank yet so full all at once. All the emotions that he’d been keeping within were bubbling and threatening to spill. His voice cracked as he opened his mouth again.

“I’m- really sorry.”

“I- I’m so sorry-” As his voice cracked, he felt hands take his and gently move the glass from his hands. He didn’t bother looking up as San sat right in front of him, holding his hands in his and gently rubbing his knuckles.

“Just tell me, tell me what’s wrong Woo…” San’s voice was laced with comfort and concern. Wooyoung refused to meet his eyes, knowing if he did he would most definitely burst into tears.

The words were stuck in his throat. Nausea filled him at the thought of telling San what was going on, of telling anyone. He felt like he was going to be sick. His heart raced and his breath hitched. As if sensing his panic, San moved Wooyoung from his position to be able to lean him against his side. Wooyoung settled into San’s side, letting his head fall into the crook of his neck and curling himself against his boyfriend.

“I love you so much,” San whispered into his hair, his hand rubbing Wooyoung’s shoulder gently as he held him close. Wooyoung shook his head, tears silently falling as he willed himself to keep his sobs inside. How could he explain this, how could he word this? San deserved an explanation. A reason as to why he was like this. But he didn’t have one. Not a valid one.

“Yeah so I get really REALLY depressed every so after and sometimes it’s worse than others and I feel like such a useless pile of nothingness! And instead of letting someone know that I’m struggling and need help- I push everyone away because despite my want for love and attention I, for some reason, can’t let myself have it!”

Yeah. Saying something like that is not ideal.

Unfortunately, Wooyoung knows he’s let himself get to a point where he can’t stay silent. He doesn’t have the liberty of staying quiet anymore because he used it all up. He slowly moved his face off of San’s shoulder. His teary eyes lifted to meet San’s, whose eyes were equally as teary and sad. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came. His hands clenched on the fabric of his pants, his arms starting to tremble as he fought with himself to just, speak.
As if San could see the inner turmoil plaguing his lover, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind Wooyoung’s ear. Moving his face towards Wooyoung, San stared into his boyfriends hollowed and teary eyes.

“Whatever it is, whatever's going on- I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you, and so will everyone else,” San whispered gently, as if scared to startle Wooyoung. “But please, you have to let us in, Woo.”

Tears continued to fester in his eyes as he stared back at San. His hands trembled as he took in a deep breath- holding it before letting out a shaky exhale.

“I-,” his breath hitched. “I’m scared.” Wooyoung admitted, his voice weak and small. His gaze moving down to his hands in shame. He could feel San’s silent stare, waiting for him to explain, to add some sort of reason so that he could try and help. Wooyoung remained silent- his words caught in his throat once more, his mind not wanting him to expose his fragile heart, whose wounds were deep and spilling.

The silence between them stretched for what seemed like an eternity, Wooyoung’s quiet hiccups and sniffles filled the apartment. San didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply sat there, waiting. He knew that he couldn’t force Wooyoung to speak, to be open with him and share his pains. However, he couldn’t just sit here and let his lover suffer alone. Not anymore.

Eventually, San got up off the couch. Wooyoung’s heart tensed more. This was it. He was being left alone again, San was leaving. He had enough of his childishness. As Wooyoung’s mind kept him busy, he failed to register that San was crouched in front of him, his hands now gently holding his own as he stared lovingly into his eyes.

“I think we both… I think everything is a bit too much right now for you right..? So let’s just take this slow. You don’t have to talk, or explain, or anything right now. Just…let me take care of you okay?” The sincerity and love dripping from his voice flooded Wooyoung's mind, slightly calming his raging thoughts as he gave a weak nod, his nose sniffling once again.

San nodded back in acknowledgement, giving his hands a gentle squeeze before standing up. “Have you eaten anything yet?” San asked, moving towards the kitchen and checking Wooyoung’s fridge. Shaking his head once more, Wooyoung silently moved from the couch and sat down at one of the barstools.

Humming, San started to grab two eggs from the fridge as well as a red pepper that was nearing the end of its days, but still edible. Wooyoung sat silently as he watched San make him his food, not thinking of much aside from observing the motions. Neither of them spoke as San cooked the food, the comforting sizzle from the stove filled the apartment. When San was finished, he dished up a plate for Wooyoung, placing a piece of toast on the side.

“Sorry it’s not the most fun meal but you need some food in you.” San said softly, starting on the dishes he dirtied while Wooyoung slowly picked up his utensils.

A soft thanks left his mouth as he stared at the warm food in front of him. Truthfully, he had no desire to eat, but San had made the effort to make this for him so the least he could do was try. He picked around his plate for a while before finally having a few bites, as he expected the food did not sit right with him, though he didn’t feel sick. Eventually he stomached all he could and as if on que, San took the plate from him and started cleaning it up.

Wooyoung felt a pang of guilt run through him, feeling useless as his boyfriend cared for him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, he wasn’t a child that needed babysitting. San eventually finished with the dishes and disappeared into Wooyoung’s bedroom for a brief moment before coming out carrying a mound in his arms. Blankets, pillows, and Wooyoung's favourite stuffed animal that San had won him last summer when their group had all gone to an arcade. Wooyoung gave a small smile at the sight, watching San’s large body get shrunk down due to the mountain of things he was carrying. He watched as his boyfriend played everything down on the couch, arranging everything in a way for maximum comfort.

Wooyoung got up from where he was, moving over silently to help spread out one of the blankets over the other half of the couch. Once they finished arranging everything San flopped himself down first, his arms outstretched and welcoming. Wooyoung stared at him for a moment before curling himself on his boyfriend's chest. San immediately wrapped him up within his arms, his arms engulfing Wooyoung’s smaller frame.

They stayed like that, cuddled together on the couch for what felt like hours. As San’s fingers brushed through Wooyoung’s hair, lulling him into a calm space just between consciousness and sleep. The quiet tension has long since drained from the air, a silent understanding between the two of them deposit the earlier surplus of emotion.

“I need you here, but I need time.”

“I can wait as long as you need, as long as I can be with you.”

It wasn’t until San’s phone rang that the lull of the room vanished. Wooyoung pressed himself further into San’s chest while the other wiggled his phone from his pocket. Taking a glance at the phone, the contact flashed on the screen. It was Seonghwa- a feeling of guilt sunk back into Wooyoung. The elder was always so caring towards all their friends, he can only imagine the amount of worry he probably caused his hyung.

San answered the call, his hand continuing to gently run through Wooyoung’s hair as he spoke. “Hey…yeah I’m with him…”

Wooyoung stopped paying attention to the conversation, his eyelids growing heavy the more he listened to his boyfriend's calming voice. He didn’t even care that they were probably talking about him, for the first time in weeks his mind was quieter, he was warm, and most importantly- he wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t sure when he drifted off, but when he opened his eyes he was met with the overwhelming warmth of being wrapped up in his lover's arms. He sighed with content, not wanting to startle San as he slipped back into sleep.

When he awoke for real this time, the extra warmth of San’s body was no longer with him. A bit disappointed, he moved himself upright, the blankets that once wrapped him gently falling down. The comforting smell of pancakes filled his nose- glancing over to the kitchen as he wiped sleep away from his eyes, he saw San in the kitchen humming to himself. Wooyoung’s heart swelled, there was a level of domesticity that filled him as he watched San go about what he was doing.

As much as that warm feeling remained, memories from the past day flooded his mind once more. He paused on the couch, that same feeling of regret and shame filling his body once more. He felt sick.

Seemingly having noticed that Wooyoung had awoken, San smiled towards him as he flipped a pancake on the stove.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” He said lovingly while finishing up what he was doing. “I didn’t want to disturb you, sorry if the noise woke you up.”

Wooyoung shook his head as he grabbed one of the blankets, wrapping it around himself as he waddled over to the kitchen.

“Not too noisy… just cold.” He mumbled softly. San’s smile widened as he watched Wooyoung sleepily shuffle into the kitchen, his boyfriend's small frame completely engulfed by the blanket he had wrapped over his head and body. As Wooyoung moved closer to San, his boyfriend got the hint and wrapped an arm around him while using the other to monitor the stove. San placed a gentle, loving kiss on his head causing Wooyoung to settle closer into his side.

“There are some that are done being cooked on the side if you’re hungry right now, or I can plate it for you once this last one finishes.” Wooyoung simply nuzzled into him more, he’d rather wait and have them eat together.

~

When all was finished, plates cleaned off and dishes all done, the two of them moved back to the couch. Wooyoung could still feel a small sense of dread in his stomach. He knew they had to continue the conversation from yesterday eventually. Despite San’s words of reassurance that he could take his time, he felt bad not being able to speak.

As Wooyoung was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice San heading towards the washroom. That’s when his heart sank. The washroom. The blood. He didn’t clean it up when he woke up- too focused on showering and his phone before he got interrupted by San knocking. In a panic he shed the blanket around him before rushing over to stop him.

Sadly for him, it was too late. As Wooyoung made it to the door of the washroom, San was already inside, staring at the dried blood on the floor and the bloodied blade and towel pushed to the side. The silence was deafening. Wooyoung could feel his heart thumping in his throat. He was going to be sick. Before he could get any excuse out, San spoke.

“What did you do?” The question held no threat or accusatory tone, San’s voice was filled with nothing but sorrow as he stared somberly at him.

Wooyoung felt like the world was spinning, like his feet were about to give out from under him. His eyes remained wide as he stared at San, his mouth open but unable to speak. He could feel San’s worried eyes scanning over Wooyoung to try and see where he could be hurt.

“Pull up your sleeve.” San’s shaking demand snapped Wooyoung back to reality, causing him to step back instinctively.

“San it’s- it’s not what you think okay…” His voice wavered as his panic increased, his breathing irregular as his mind raced.
“No it’s-” San’s voice raised before he paused, taking in Wooyoung's scared form. “Please Woo, please if you hurt yourself I-” His voice broke, Wooyoung felt tears welling up in his eyes and he knew San’s were doing the same.

“Please just show me, or if you don’t want to just- did you clean them? Are they bandaged?” San’s voice came out small and careful, as if worried he would scare Wooyoung away.

Wooyoung covered his mouth as he shook his head, crumpling down to the floor as he choked back sobs. He didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want San to find out like this- he didn’t want him to find out at all. His sobs escaped his mouth, heartbreaking sobs that tore at San’s heart strings.

Cursing under his breath, San moved down to the floor with Wooyoung, wrapping him up in his arms and cradling his head in his hands as he gently rocked them back and forth. Soothing not only Wooyoung, but himself.

“It’s okay… shh… you’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.” San’s quiet reassurances filled the room alongside Wooyoung’s slowly subsiding sobs.

They stayed like that on the floor, Wooyoung settled in San’s arms as he placed gentle kisses in his hair while continuing to whisper soft reassurances. It wasn’t until Wooyoung’s tears slowed down did San speak again. “Woo, please show me.” His voice was soft and gentle, causing Wooyoung's heart to hurt more. He sniffled before shifting in San’s lap. He paused before speaking, his voice hoarse and quiet from crying.

“...it’s just my legs, it’s not that bad I- I showered earlier..”

San’s eyes shifted down to Wooyoung’s legs, his hands subconsciously moving towards the hems on his pants, resting on the elastic.

“Please, I just want to make sure they aren’t going to get infected.” San’s voice came out as something close to a plea. He felt his heart sink further into his body, if that was even possible. Wooyoung shifted in San’s lap, standing up from where they were sitting before pausing. Tears started to flow silently again and he watched San stand up too.

Slowly, Wooyoung let his sweatpants drop down, being careful to not rub against his wounds. The sharp inhale San made when he saw the state of his legs made Wooyoung feel sick all over again. A cold touch brushed past some of the deeper wounds, who despite no longer bleeding, were clearly inflamed.
“Oh my love…” San’s voice opened the water works again. Wooyoung started sobbing into his hands as San moved back up to hold him.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry you have to deal with this-” San shushed him as he stroked Wooyoung’s hair, the two didn’t speak as Wooyoung finished crying once more. His face flushed and tear stained. San guided him to the edge of the bathtub, making him sit as he looked through the cabinet for the medical kit.

San silently cleaned up Wooyoung’s legs, despite them being cleaned in the shower Wooyoung let him. Realising as much as this was for him, San needed this too. Once he was done, San placed some bandages and wrapped the wounds that remained open before gently patting Wooyoung’s knee to let him know he was done.

Standing up, Wooyoung pulled his sweats carefully back up, following San back out to the livingroom. Before moving to the couch, Wooyoung picked back up the blanket he had discarded earlier, wrapping himself back up as he prepared himself for the conversation that was most definitely needing to happen.

As the two settled back into the couch, San opened his arms to welcome Wooyoung back into his embrace. Though he didn’t move, his eyes staring at the floor, hands gripping the blanket surrounding him. His boyfriend noticed the distant look, putting his arms down and sitting up a bit more as well.

But he didn’t push. He just sat there, waiting. After a few moments of silence, Wooyoung finally got the courage to speak.

“I don’t remember when this all started,” He admitted softly, his voice quiet and low. “It’s… it’s not new or anything and I don’t know why it was so bad this time but I just-” He stopped, taking a breath. God he was terrible at this. His fingers found their way to one another, slowly beginning to pick at his cuticles.

“It happens every so often… when- when my mind gets louder than normal I guess. I mean- it’s always there, like, these thoughts but sometimes it just… it takes over. And when it does I just- I need to be alone.” He said, his voice fragile as he stared down. Before San could speak again, he interrupted.

“And I know it’s not fair to you all, especially not to you but I just…I don’t know why but- I just-” The words stuck in throat, unable to get out what he wanted to say. This was humiliating. That feeling of nausea creeped back up when he felt San’s warm hands gently hold his own, causing him to stop fidgeting. He looked up, his eyes met with San’s, who had at some point moved closer to him.

“You’re scared to let us in because we’ll think differently of you.” San said, finishing his thought for him. Wooyoung shook his head slightly.

“I don’t- that’s the issue, I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m like this and I just-”

“But you do.”

Wooyoung paused. San’s voice was steady and firm as he stared at Wooyoung.

“You do know why and I know you do. Deep down you do, and that is another thing you are scared of. You’re scared because you think that because you know you need to have it figured out on your own. That you shouldn’t still be struggling if you’re aware of these things but that's not true,” San continued, his eyes never leaving him as he spoke with certainty.

“Wooyoung, if you’re dealing with what I, and everyone else, assumed you are dealing with, then the last thing you should think is that you can do this on your own. Let alone for you to be isolating yourself for such long periods of time when you are clearly going through an episode. And for that I’m sorry.”

Confusion covered Wooyoung’s face, why was San apologizing? He had done nothing wrong- it was him who was in the wrong, not San. Before he could speak, to refute the apology, San continued.

“I’m sorry that we let this carry on for so long, that I let this go on for so long. As your boyfriend and your friend. I saw the signs and I just- I didn’t want it to be real. Nor did I ever think that your dismissal of it wasn’t the biggest sign that it was something real. And for that I’m so sorry.”

Wooyoung sat there silently, staring into San’s eyes as he processed everything that was just said to him. His mind was filled with a mix of emotions- but most of all he felt…calm. His secret he was trying so hard to shield from everyone was no longer hidden nor did it need to be hidden. As Wooyoung continued to think, San didn’t move. He simply stayed sat with him, gently rubbing over his knuckles every so often.

“You don’t need to be sorry…” Wooyoung broke the silence, his voice quiet and soft. He paused before looking back up at San. “If anything I should be the one apologizing… for being a coward and hiding away.” Before he could say anymore, San wrapped his arms around him, pulling Wooyoung close.

“Don’t you ever apologize for being scared” He said, squeezing him slightly. Tears started to form as the understanding set it. San was here, he understood, and he still loved him. The two stayed like that on the couch, holding each other as Wooyoung quietly cried into San’s chest.

After Wooyoung settled down slightly, the two kept talking. Wooyoung explained his depression, how he’s been diagnosed for years. He explained that he’s tried medications, it didn’t help, how therapy did nothing but aggravate him. He mentioned the self-harm, how it was the only way he found comfort when his mind got like this. How he was clean for so long, and relapsed. As he explained everything, San just listened. He nodded and gave encouragement when Wooyoung stumbled or got choked up. He was patient and never pushed for more details than what Wooyoung was ready to share.

By the end of it, Wooyoung felt like all a chunk of the burdens he was shouldering was off his back. As San continued to hold him, he finally spoke up. “What can I do to help?” The question itself was simple but truly, Wooyoung didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know what would help him, but after the events that had unfolded he knew one thing was for certain.

“Please just hold me, be there for me. Don’t… don’t let me shut everyone out, even if I try to.”

San smiled softly down at his lover before closing the distance between themselves, planting a kiss on Wooyoung’s face before caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“I wasn’t planning on ever letting you do this alone again.”

~

The two of them spent the next few days in a similar sequence. Lots of tears and hugs, as well as very long-overdue conversations were had. Things weren’t fixed, nor were they perfect, but they were better and they would continue to get better. Because Wooyoung wasn’t on his own anymore, and he wasn't ever truly. Especially not with San by his side.

Of course, when he was up for it, he replied to his friends. He called them all individually, going through the same sort of conversations. Though it wasn’t repetitive, it was just as comforting and necessary every time. He made sure to meet with them all in person, ensuring to attend their next group hangout. He didn’t go into details like he did with San, but he explained enough to fill in some of the gaps the others had. Though they all had their suspicions prior, it was nice to have confirmation so they could be as supportive as they could.

Wooyoung wasn’t healed, these feelings would come back. But when they did, he knew he didn’t have to be alone.