Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“Baby, I can't help myself.
I'm seein' you everywhere I go.
I don't dream of anyone else.”

The wooden bed frame creaked, joining the symphony of moans and slapping sounds that already filled the room.

His cheek was smashed against the pillow, his back arched and his legs bent and spread so San could keep snapping his hips with that abandon that characterised him lately. Wooyoung guessed it was the stress of the exams and the important matches coming up, but the contrast between their recent hook-ups and the ones they had a couple of months ago was huge .

It was as if San was desperate to tear him apart, piece by piece, until Wooyoung couldn’t even utter the captain’s name because he was so ruined that even talking was out of his reach.

One of San’s hands gripped Wooyoung’s thigh harder while the other landed right over Wooyoung’s, next to his head. Their fingers didn’t intertwine but neither of them seemed to care. 

San mouthed at Wooyoung’s shoulder and the latter writhed, completely lost in the mix of pleasure of San thrusting inside him and his cock, that was trapped between his body and the bed, rubbing against the surface every time San rolled his hips again. 

Lately, having sex with San was so intense that Wooyoung couldn't last as long as he usually did, always surprising himself when the orgasm ripped through him and left him boneless and caged between San’s arms. 

“Fuck, San,” Wooyoung whimpered.

San’s tongue ran up his neck —his famous sensitive spot— and Wooyoung’s legs buckled. 

If it wasn’t for San still grabbing onto his thigh, his whole body would have fallen onto the mattress after the bite the captain left right below his ear, accompanying it with a low:

“Love when you say my name like that.”

Wooyoung’s fingers moved ever so slightly over the mattress until San’s were perfectly slotted between them and he grinned with eyes closed.

At the beginning, he preferred to have sex like this because it felt less… intimate . More like something with an expiry date or even like a silly mistake that he wouldn’t mind making again. San could barely kiss his lips and Wooyoung could focus on how good it felt without thinking about anything else.

Because it was supposed to end.

It shouldn’t keep happening ten months later.

“‘M close,” Wooyoung mumbled when San dared to repeat the torture. 

First with his tongue. Then with his teeth.

Unconsciously, he held San’s hand tighter. 

“Yeah?” 

Wooyoung didn’t need to see him to know that San was smirking. The dimples popping out and making something inside him flutter.

He hated those stupid dimples so much.

No dimples deserved to look so good on anyone’s face.

San sucked on his shoulder, the smirk still plastered on his lips. 

“ San ,” was his only warning. A whiny one.

“No marks, I know.” His movements grew shallow and his voice strained as he whispered against Wooyoung’s ear, “You haven’t cummed because I haven’t called you ‘princess’, yet?”

A broken moan parted Wooyoung’s lips and San’s arm circled completely around his waist, manhandling him like a ragdoll whilst he sped up one last time. His nose hit Wooyoung’s temple and Wooyoung shuddered at the sound of his ragged breathing and his moans.

“I can’t… sta-.” San’s short nails sank into the skin of Wooyoung’s hips, making his body rub against the mattress exactly how he needed it. “Shit.”

A last whimper escaped his mouth and his body fell into the hurricane whilst San crashed completely on top of him, almost burying him into the mattress.

“God, Woo,” he said. Their fingers still half laced beside their heads.

So… well.

At the beginning, Wooyoung liked to have sex like this because it kept him grounded. It reminded him of what they had. But secretly, he had started to like even more the way San nuzzled against his neck and kissed his nape whilst his body was still on top of him right after coming down from their orgasms.

And when his mind tried to dig too much into that buzzing feeling, he just turned around underneath San and shut down his own thoughts with a long kiss that, eventually, only backfired because why on Earth did San  reciprocate the fucking kiss so sweetly after fucking him six ways to Sunday.

“Shower and dinner,” he reminded Wooyoung in the middle of their kiss, sliding their lips together again before the latter could say a thing. “You said I convinced you earlier.”

“That was before you decided to tease me for like…” Wooyoung glanced at the clock San had on his nightstand. “Fifty minutes.”

San shrugged, his red hair pointing in all directions from all the pulling and his lips bitten and swollen yet curled into a winning grin. Like a living sin; or just like the reason why Wooyoung would forget for one more day that they should just fuck and say goodbye.

When was the last time they simply fucked and said goodbye anyway?

“Come on, princess. You said you could rest tonight and I haven’t cooked you my famous bibimbap yet.”

Princess .

He should have also stopped the petnames but after asking San not to call him ‘baby’ and getting asked if the problem was that specific term or the petnames, Wooyoung found himself at a loss for words.

In fact, it didn’t even happen like that.

What San said was along the lines of, “What if I call you ‘princess’ instead, hm?”

And Wooyoung had blushed so madly that he never asked him to take it back.

“Shower, quick dinner and I’m leaving,” Wooyoung conceded. “And no more funny games.”

“Are kisses considered ‘funny games’ too?” San wondered while their lips brushed with each word. 

Wooyoung pressed his index finger against San’s puckered lips, looking way more annoyed than he actually felt.

“Stop,” he said, completely unserious, with a smile that had betrayed him even before he could even speak. “And let me clean up so I can enjoy that famous bibimbap.”

San rolled off of him and Wooyoung playfully slapped his hip before getting off the bed, taking one of San’s towels from his drawer and locking himself in the bathroom.

*

Wooyoung took the first bite with the same confidence he took his exams. San had cooked for him in the past and he had always been far from disappointing. He explained to Wooyoung one of those days that they were too lazy to leave the couch to clean up properly that his grandparents used to own a restaurant and that they taught him everything he knew. 

He emitted a happy sound, his eyebrows knitted and his lips pulled in a frown as he munched on the bibimbap. It tasted so good . Every ingredient perfectly cooked and mixed together on his tongue. 

“If you ever ended up opening a restaurant, I would be your first customer,” Wooyoung mumbled around his chopsticks after taking another mouthful of food.

San's eyes didn’t meet his own but they turned into crescents anyway as a smile bloomed on his lips.

“Glad you liked it.” The temporary shyness faded away when the captain cleared his throat with a sip of water. “I told you it was famous.”

Playfully, Wooyoung kicked him under the table and San giggled before pointing at him with his chopsticks. 

“Eh, I’m only stating facts. Do you want me to message my mother? Or Jongho? Or Seonghwa?”

Wooyoung shook his head, taking some rice and smiling to himself at the thought of San sharing homemade food with him. It shouldn’t feel special, and he shouldn’t feel so giddy inside, but he couldn’t help it.

The more he peeked through the layers that covered the captain, the more Wooyoung wondered why some people from his class hated him so much.

Or why even he judged him so quickly at the beginning just because he played football, was the captain of the team, wasn’t part of the top students of his class and went out more than the average.

Ten months later, Wooyoung had learnt that when San went out, he usually wasn’t as drunk as some of his friends. He didn’t smoke either. And the mere mention of any drug made him gag.

He took his health and his team so seriously.

And he worked his ass off for his grades, even if they never showed how much San had sweated for them.

“I could even text Yeosang,” San added, tapping his chin with his fingers. “Jongho brought a huge food container to your place last month.”

“Did he?”

San nodded. “And Yeosang sent me a voice note to praise me so…”

“Why are you even justifying your fame when I told you it tasted good?” Wooyoung teased. 

San halted, the chopstick sinking into his plate, his eyes widening for a split second and his lips forming a pout. Wooyoung shrieked.

“You were so ready to explain to me why your bibimbap was good that you didn’t actually listen to me when I said it was good?”

San tilted his head down to fill his mouth with more food, murmuring in a quiet voice, “Maybe?”

Wooyoung nudged him and craned his head in his direction, almost leaning it against his shoulder to lock eyes with him.

“Is this how you show your teammates how to listen to the rest?” 

San groaned. “Not funny.”

“I’m going to tell Jongho that I think they should get a new captain for the next season because the one they have now has his head too far up his own ass that he can’t even pay attention during a simple conversation.”

San pouted again. “You don’t deserve my food.”

Wooyoung’s lips curled and, somehow, he could feel how his smile cracked at the corners. Because even if San’s intention wasn’t that at all , it didn’t mean he wasn’t right. After all, San was giving him a meal he cooked with his own hands and Wooyoung couldn’t even stay with him for more than five hours without feeling the need to go back to his flat. 

Why was he even thinking about that?

They were joking.

He wasn’t serious.

“It’s too late for that. I’ve inhaled almost the entire plate.”

San sighed dramatically. “Damn it.”

“Thank you, though,” Wooyoung suddenly blurted out, the funny atmosphere breaking into pieces whilst he turned his head towards his plate to eat what was left before it got cold. 

At first, San used to get completely lost with Wooyoung's outbursts but after almost a year, he seemed to have mastered the art. Wooyoung could hear the engines in San’s brain working to translate the real message behind his words. 

A soft chuckle.

San’s fingers squeezing Wooyoung’s thigh.

“It’s nothing. I really wanted you to try it.” 

He could feel the dimples staring at him.

And it wasn’t the moment to fantasise about looking at San again to kiss those dimples. 

Why would he, anyway. They weren’t going to have sex again that night. 

Wooyoung swallowed. Lately they had kissed for absolutely no reason too many times for his own good. Not only on the lips. Sometimes it was a light caress against the cheek, other times a joke that ended with mouths pressed against shoulders or against the back of the hand. 

“Y’know, as a thank you for bearing with my silly ass all these months.”

“Is the silly ass in the room with us?” Wooyoung retorted, committing the crime of taking a quick glance to see the exact moment in which the dimples deepened because San’s smile widened. “Hm, Captain Choi? First you don’t listen to me and now this? I should text Jongho right now…”

“You gotta admit I would fit the stereotype. Haven’t you heard what people say about football captains?”

Of course he had.

“You decided to not fit the stereotype the moment you came out. You ruined the opportunity the day you did that.”

“I guess.”

San refilled his glass of water and Wooyoung rubbed the spot San squeezed earlier. 

When did the air around them get so heavy?

Why wasn’t he at home? Why was he still here, taking up all his time with a dinner that was supposed to be quick?

“You’ll have to find another campus if you want to start over. I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung knew a lot about that.

“You are willing to get rid of me.”

Wooyoung pushed his empty plate with his fingers and let out a quiet giggle at the irony of San's comment. Because he wouldn’t be there, having dinner with him, almost a year later, if that was the case.

So, just to make sure San didn’t forget that, he poured himself more water and whispered with his lips against the rim of his glass.

“Not at all.” 

***

“I want you ready tomorrow at six o’clock.”

Wooyoung lifted his gaze from the TV series he was watching —Grey’s Anatomy, sue him, the medical student inside him thought that was an event he couldn’t skip in his life— and found his flatmate, and best friend, Yeosang leaning against the doorframe, his green and black hair looking extremely soft after his shower and his cheeks still flushed because of the warm water. 

He was wearing a sweater that looked easily two sizes too big on him but Wooyoung didn’t need him to turn around to know that on the back he would find Jongho’s surname and his player number.

At first, he only frowned.

“Am I missing something…?”

Yeosang scoffed, folding his arms against his chest.

“I’m going to give you another chance to think about it.”

Wooyoung sat properly on his bed as he opened the calendar on his phone to see if that gave him some kind of clue. His eyes zeroed in on the screen and the mere sight of the full date was like a double-slap. 

No.

Like a double-slap, a kick and a punch.

“Ah, fuck.” Wooyoung let out a long sigh, his gaze returning to his best friend. “I never said I was going with you, Sangie.”

“No, but I’m telling you. We are going tomorrow. I’m sure the captain will be happy to see you there.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I’m not going. He has many fans who will be cheering for him.”

It wasn’t even a bitter remark, Wooyoung adored seeing people praising San. He was an exceptional football player and he poured all his being into the task of being the best captain that their university had ever had. 

It was delightful to see so many people with banners with San’s name.

It didn’t matter if Wooyoung was there or not.

Yeosang pointed a finger in his direction. “Wooyoung. This match and the one they have in two weeks will decide if they enter the championship. At least do it for Jongho? He will be happy to see you too.”

Wooyoung’s stomach twisted.

“I…”

Yeosang took a seat next to him, his hand finding a home on Wooyoung’s knee.

“Listen, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But it’s been… what? Three and a half years since we started uni? You used to love going to the matches with me and it’s going to be so different this time.”

Wooyoung avoided Yeosang’s face, his body tensing under the gentleness that his best friend exuded. It was surreal to think that Yeosang was there when everything happened, that he supported Wooyoung through his downfall and that he had smiled proudly each time Wooyoung took an unsure step in what he thought was the right direction.

A snort parted his lips.

“This time I’ve actually been hooking up with the captain for months and he wasn’t a one-night thing.”

The hand that was on his knee smacked the same spot and Yeosang huffed.

“You know that’s not the same either.” Yeosang inched closer. “San is so damn nice that he has never asked you to leave your comfort zone for him, even if that meant hiding him like a mistake without even explaining why. He hasn’t even asked you directly to go to his matches and he has memorised your crazy-ass schedule to know when you two can hang out. So don’t call him a hook-up.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

He was being an asshole about this whole thing. He knew it, but he got so defensive when it came to this. 

“Your boyfriend sure did a good job turning you into another San protector.”

Yeosang didn’t even retort, more than used to dealing with the sharp tongue that Wooyoung hid for the moments where he felt attacked and his first response was striking back before he was the one bleeding on the floor. 

“It’s a single match. Nobody will find it weird. I’m dating one of the players and you, as the marvellous best friend that you are, are going with me so I’m not by myself.”

“What about Yeonjun? I thought you said he always went with you to see Soobin play.”

“Oh. I told him you were coming with us and he already bought three tickets.”

Wooyoung tensed further, feeling cornered and with no power to share his opinion.

Yeosang invaded his personal space even more, his face craned until they could meet eyes again.

“Woo, you’ve spent the last few months watching the live stream of all the matches and pretending you didn’t when Jongho and San talked about them because you didn’t want to explain why you stayed home.”

Yeosang’s eyes were all patience and softness when he drew a tiny smile.

“Don’t you want to be able to talk about them for once? Or to be there with Yeonjun and me and celebrate with us when they win instead of spamming my conversation with emojis?” His hand caught Wooyoung’s. “I swear I’ll go home with you if it triggers you but I really don't think it will.”

Wooyoung didn’t know what to say, his fingers rigid in Yeosang’s and his stomach swirling with a familiar anxiety. 

“But I can’t talk to him afterwards,” was the first thing that came to his mind. “I really… If I go…”

He was so selfish. Again.

Most nights, Wooyoung wondered when San would get fed up and move on from his bullshit. He always insisted on how excited he was to see him when Wooyoung was the one to suggest meeting or when he joined San and his friends’ at their pre-game party, but the ugly reality was still there —Wooyoung refused to be seen in public with him. 

He had repeated several times that they were only acquaintances for the public eye. San was Jongho’s best friend, who happened to be the boyfriend of Wooyoung’s best friend. That was all. 

No unnecessary comments.

No unnecessary stares.

The further he could stay from him when they were outside, the easier it would be to keep the peaceful life he had been building since he started his degree.

And yet, the more time passed by, the harder it was to not approach him when they crossed paths on campus or to not ask him to go somewhere together, outside of their flats.

“Look me in the eye, do you think San would break your trust like that? Even if he’s dying to hug you after the match, he won’t.”

Wooyoung tilted his head down. 

He would also be dying to hug San after the match, to celebrate that it’s the first time that he was really there. 

“I know. Sorry. I just got all weird and I…” Wooyoung finally gripped Yeosang’s fingers back. “I’ve wanted to explain it to him so many times but it’s so hard. All of this… I hate talking about it. I feel like no one would understand it.”

“For the record, I do believe that San would wait years for you to find the words. And anyway, you’ve managed to open up with Hongjoong, so don’t underestimate yourself. Take all the time you need.”

Hongjoong. The only friend he had made by himself since he started his degree. Another crazy workaholic like him who was an expert in biology but a total mess when it came to what was inside the heart.

He also had Yeonjun, sure, but they met through Yeosang. It wasn’t the same. And they mostly hung out to do fun stuff, not to sweat and cry till four in the morning because they had to submit an assignment before seven and they had run out of coffee.

“How long have you been planning this?” Wooyoung asked.

Yeosang shrugged. “Since the second time you decided to watch a livestream instead of coming with me. I knew that the only way to convince you was doing… this, even if you might get defensive. If I had told you about this a few days ago, you would have come up with an excuse, and if I had told you tomorrow, your anxiety would have eaten you up. Sorry if I was too harsh.”

Wooyoung smiled. 

Yeosang wasn’t too harsh, he did what he had to do to pull Wooyoung out of his slightly toxic comfort zone. Wooyoung himself knew that this was the only way to keep maturing and growing and leaving everything behind. 

“Jongho gave me his team sweater so you can wear it tomorrow.”

Wooyoung chuckled. Although Jongho was San’s best friend and he could hate Wooyoung’s guts for the way he treated the captain —just like San’s other best friend, Seonghwa, did— the football player had always been so kind to him.

He wondered if Yeosang had told him part of their past; part of his past.

Or maybe he had seen how Wooyoung was with Yeosang and had been able to tell that something clearly happened before university, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what .

“What would I do without you?” Wooyoung joked, though it didn’t taste like a reason to laugh.

“Probably wear one of your boring sweaters instead of cheering the team properly.”

*

Messages:

j. woo [20:09]: 

hey

good luck tomorrow

captain sannie [20:11]: 

r u busy tmrw?

j. woo [20:12]: 

?

captain sannie [20:11]: 

u usually wish me luck right before the match

thank u youngie

***

Wooyoung fidgeted with the hem of Jongho’s sweater while Yeosang showed their tickets. Yeonjun had messaged them that morning to tell them that he had woken up with a high fever, so it was only the two of them in the end. This was, in some way, better, because even though Yeonjun had a brief idea of what happened, he wasn’t Yeosang.

“Feeling good?” Yeosang checked in on him, guiding him through the small but decent venue where their university held the different competitions. 

Wooyoung nodded, his legs heavier than usual and his lungs filled with half the air he could usually inhale. So far, nobody had looked at them or approached them or anything of the sort. It had been… loud, because it was a venue, but quiet at the same time.

“Water?” Yeosang asked, queueing to order some drinks and snacks before going to their seats. “Also, Jongho said you looked cute in his sweater and that he hopes to see you in more matches.”

Wooyoung rubbed his cheek with his knuckles. “You sent him the pic?”

“You looked so adorable, of course I did.” Yeosang licked his lips, murmuring only for Wooyoung to hear. “Did you send it to him …?”

“No.” Wooyoung bit the inner side of his cheek. “I didn’t tell him I’m here either.”

Yeosang slapped his arm and Wooyoung pulled at his bucket hat, trying to hide himself from the accusatory glare his best friend was shooting in his direction.

“You could at least send him a picture of the field when we go to our seats. Something . I swear to god, Wooyoung.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow, stepping forward and not asking Wooyoung again before ordering a Coke for himself, a bottle of water for Wooyoung and some chips. He gathered everything in his arms and once they were far from the queue, he muttered:

“I care because you have a tendency to ruin every good thing that happens to you unless it’s related to your grades.”

He walked up the stairs and didn’t look at Wooyoung again, leaving him behind to digest not only his own thoughts on the matter but also Yeosang’s words. Was he sabotaging his relationship with San? 

If he was, he wouldn’t still be in contact with him after ten months.

Wooyoung considered him a friend .

A very particular one, for sure, because they never went outside and they slept together quite a lot , but a friend regardless. He hoped San didn’t doubt that, despite how strange Wooyoung’s behaviour was at times.

*

“Still okay?” Yeosang asked him five minutes before the match started.

Wooyoung didn’t tear his gaze away from the cheerleaders, nodding ever so slightly just in case saying it out loud could jinx his luck. 

In his distorted memories, he would be getting nasty looks from some of the cheerleaders and people around him would be gossiping about the last fight he had with one of them as if Wooyoung couldn’t hear them. 

This time, only a young girl had approached them and it had been to ask Yeosang where he bought his Jongho signed sweater. Her face had been priceless when Yeosang turned around and she connected the dots, recognising Yeosang’s face from all the stories Jongho posted of them together.

It had been sweet. It hadn’t felt invasive at all.

“I’m excited,” Wooyoung admitted, his eyes landing on his best friend’s face whilst a smile conquered his lips. “You were right. It’s different.” The smile widened. “Better.”

Yeosang grinned. “Did you finally tell him?”

“I think Jongho did.” 

He showed the conversation to Yeosang and the latter shook his head while his characteristic chuckle escaped his mouth. 

Messages:

captain sannie [18:40]: 

wooyoung

send me a selfie

right now

j. woo [18:41]: 

why

captain sannie [18:42]: 

???????

WHY???

do it

j. woo [18:42]:

j. woo sent a picture

captain sannie [18:43]: 

ok

im dead

ttyl imma give the talk to the team

j. woo [18:43]: 

hahaah

i’ll leave to keep you alive

captain sannie [18:43]: 

they will be for u btw

j. woo [18:44]:

for me?

captain sannie [18:44]: 

my goals

Yeosang raised his eyebrows and Wooyoung shrugged, not wanting to comment on the last message or on how it had made his stomach flutter. He only hoped his presence didn’t bring any kind of bad luck to the team, they deserved to enter the championship.

“Wooyoung?” 

Wooyoung’s eyes widened as he pocketed his phone and turned his head, finding one of his classmates on the row behind but some seats away from them. Miyeon. She was with some of her friends, Miyeon introduced them to Wooyoung when they were in their first year, though Wooyoung had only had real conversations with the one named Minnie.

Casually one of the friends who wasn’t there.

“Hi,” he said. “Didn’t know you liked football.”

Miyeon pointed at the cheerleaders. “We always come to support Mimi and Shu.”

“Oh, I didn’t know they were part of the team.”

Miyeon giggled. “Don’t tell that to them! Shuhua is the leader!” She gestured towards Yeosang. “Did you come because of Jongho?”

A sharp pang dug into his chest.

Nobody knows you are friends.

Because of you.

He forced a smile. “Yeah. Sangie never misses any of his matches and it was about time that I came with him.”

“Cute. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Have fun and see you tomorrow!”

Wooyoung gripped his phone and his fingers unblocked his chat with San. He hadn’t even noticed that Yeosang was staring blankly at him, his expression a mix of sadness and the particular comfort that only Yeosang could cast.

Messages:

j. woo [18:57]: 

i hope to be your lucky charm

When he left his flat, he was expecting to deal with a wave of anxiety, to have to regulate his emotions over and over throughout the match to not end up having a meltdown before San could score a goal. 

However, the moment he arrived at the venue, Wooyoung realised that his past wasn’t going to be a problem.

The problem was the way his past had influenced his present. 

“Woo?”

Yeosang caressed his back, shifting slightly closer. 

Wooyoung looked at his best friend and pocketed his phone. 

“I’m fine. Really.”

At least, his main concern wasn’t poking his brain from the inside anymore. It had been replaced by a new worry that, if he was honest, had been growing at an alarming speed since the first time San stopped him from leaving right after sex. 

It grew when San kissed him while they watched a movie.

It grew when San let him borrow a hoodie so he didn’t freeze while they waited for their dinner to arrive.

It grew when San invited him to take a shower at his flat and use all his bathroom products, including his towels. 

Wooyoung swallowed.

His gallery had countless pictures of the football captain, who had told him that he was going to dedicate his goals to him and yet, a scared and paranoid side of him only wished nothing changed. 

Hopefully, with time, the more he attended these events, the less it would sting. 

He could get used to it. 

Right?

“Why the fuck does it seem like my boyfriend is wearing a t-shirt that’s too small for him? I can see his fucking tits from here.”

Wooyoung picked up his bottle of water and took a long sip after a chuckle left his mouth.

“He’s getting bulky as fuck.”

“Shit, I know. You should see his thighs…”

Wooyoung giggled now. Even on his worst days, hearing Yeosang spitting the nastiest thoughts about his boyfriend could steal a smile from him. Or two.

Sadly, his gaze wasn’t fixated on Jongho, he was too occupied devouring San’s figure, that was perfectly hugged in all the right places by a uniform that shouldn’t look so sinful. Fuck. He had held onto those shoulders several times, but Wooyoung had never processed how damn broad he was. 

Thinking about the narrow waist that was hidden under the fabric didn’t help at all. 

And when he turned around and his eyes landed on his ass, Wooyoung was close to getting up and running home because he preferred to deal with past demons —a sport he was mastering, nothing new— rather than handle the visceral effect that Choi San had on him. 

Wooyoung bit back a smile when the teams got announced and he heard some people around him screaming San’s name. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the players getting ready on the field.

“I can’t believe you,” Yeosang giggled right when the match began.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m relieved to see you having fun .” He elegantly wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke and Wooyoung pushed him. “What? Better you taking pics of the players ,” he purposely remarked the plural, “than having to leave ten minutes into the match because you are feeling triggered.”

Wooyoung pursed his lips and turned his head towards the field again, deciding on taking close ups of the players randomly so he could also have some decent pictures of San. He didn’t want anyone around him seeing him snapping pictures solely of the captain but after watching a few livestreams, Wooyoung was surprisingly giddy in his seat.

Long forgotten was his original fear. 

Nobody was looking at them. Everybody was too caught up in the match to care about Wooyoung’s presence amidst the crowd. 

No.

Scratch that.

Not everybody.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Yeosang chanted beside him as Jongho passed two players that threatened to steal the ball. He kicked it in Yunho’s direction and Wooyoung held his breath. 

This was one of the most famous signature moves of their team —distracting the other team until the real shooter got into his position. In this case, San. Wooyoung hadn’t taken his eyes off him since he saw Jongho passing the ball to Yunho because he knew what was coming. 

The other team seemed to know it too because two players ran towards San but the ball was already flying in his direction. And in the blink of an eye, they scored their first goal. 

San ran across the field to hug Jongho and Yunho and when Jongho turned to the part of the venue where Yeosang and him were seated to look for his boyfriend, San and Wooyoung locked eyes and the ghost of a smirk bloomed on San’s lips.

It was brief. Unnoticeable for anyone that didn’t know the truth. 

But it made his heart jolt.

After that, the rest of the match was like a peaceful walk along the river. Their team defended their position and the others fought fiercely to try to score at least one goal, but towards the end of the second half, Yunho scored another in their favour and Wooyoung knew that it was over. 

He jumped up from his seat when it was official that they won and found himself wrapped in Yeosang’s arms, who was hugging him while jumping with him because if they won one more match, they would be in the university championship. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave? I can wait for Jongho here and we’ll see you at home,” Yeosang assured once they were outside. “I don’t want to push you too much with all of this.”

Too excited to comprehend the complexity of the situation that Yeosang was trying to save him from, Wooyoung promised his best friend that he didn’t mind waiting some more minutes until Jongho finally showed up so they all could walk back to their flat and decide what to order for dinner.

Wooyoung regretted not having left sooner when he spotted not one but two people walking in their direction. One was obviously Jongho and the other was someone Wooyoung had learnt how to recognise with lights off.

Shit.

Yeosang threw his arms around Jongho’s shoulders and the player blushed as if they hadn’t been dating for almost a year and a half when Yeosang gave him a peck.

“You smashed it!” 

San chuckled and opened his arms to receive Yeosang’s hug too. 

“Thank you, Yeosangie.”

Jongho leaned towards Wooyoung and pinched the fabric of the sweater he was wearing with two fingers. 

“You look awesome in our colours, Wooyo. Hope to see you in them more often.”

Only then, Wooyoung felt his body relaxing. Was he tense before? 

“I guess I’ll have to keep coming, to see if you keep winning every time I'm here.”

San adjusted his cap on top of his head and Wooyoung finally, finally , tilted his head and stared at him. All words abandoned him within the seconds that it took him to drown more than he should in San’s dark eyes. He felt the urge to step closer and hug him. To congratulate him like he usually did via message. 

But his whole body was paralysed as he looked at him.

“Hey, Wooyoung,” San murmured. “Can’t believe you survived Sangie’s yells. We could hear them from the field.”

Wooyoung barely reacted, a robotic nod the only movement his body seemed to know.

“I had fun anyway.”

What the hell, Wooyoung.

He took a loud deep breath and Yeosang linked his arm with his own with a smile that seemed to be genuine, although he was just trying to cut the awkward conversation and drag him home before he behaved even more like an idiot.

San must think he was stupid.

He couldn’t even hold a cordial conversation. 

Nothing.

Top student. Questionable human.

“Enough slander. I’m hungry. Sorry for kidnapping your flatmate, Sannie,” Yeosang said, referring to Jongho, before smiling wider and turning around to walk away from the venue.

“Bye,” San mumbled and Wooyoung wondered if his heart was meant to crack like that at the sound of San’s defeated voice.

He turned his head one last time, his lips parted, their gazes meeting again.

“N-nice goal,” Wooyoung stuttered and pulled at Yeosang’s arm to walk faster, hoping Jongho would follow them in silence and ask no questions about any of this. 

If this was exactly what he had been asking San to do if they saw each other in public, why did it feel so wrong to leave without holding him first or without dragging him with them? Wooyoung hated how much it felt like a part of his silly heart was left in that venue with him. 

He felt like shit.

Nice goal .

Not even a simple thank you.

Yeosang didn’t lie when he said that San was too good. He had more patience with Wooyoung than Wooyoung had with himself. 

Nice.

Goal.

He clenched his jaw as they walked in silence. 

“You okay?” Yeosang murmured when they were waiting for their lift. 

Wooyoung shrugged and avoided looking at either of them whilst they entered the lift, reached their floor and opened the door. 

“Order whatever you want. I’ll be taking a shower,” was the only thing he said, swiftly and through his teeth, before disappearing inside his bedroom.

*

Messages:

j. woo [23:11]: 

i used the wrong words earlier

i feel honoured knowing your goal was for me

you cherish me so much

and i never understand why

captain sannie [23:12]: 

all of them will be for u if u keep coming

Wooyoung waited to see if San added something else but the dots that indicated that he was writing kept appearing and disappearing until the captain sent a single white heart. Nothing else.

What if he was upset because of him?

Messages:

j. woo [23:14]: 

maybe i could wear your team sweater next time

instead of jongho’s

It didn’t have any name on it and both Jongho and San were bigger than him so nobody would be able to tell if Wooyoung bought a huge size or if he borrowed it from someone else. It was… safe. It didn’t make him feel uneasy. 

Messages:

captain sannie [23:16]: 

would u do that

j. woo [23:16]: 

yeah?

is it bad or

i take it back if you want

captain sannie [23:17]: 

afehfddh no

!!

haha

its just

nothing

you can wear it :)

Wooyoung stared at San’s last message. It had to be one of the first times that he used such a creepy emoji and actually wrote “you” instead of the short version. 

He smiled. San didn’t sound upset.

Messages:

j. woo [23:19]: 

i’m taking your word captain choi

captain sannie [23:23]: 

dw ill give you the sweater next time we meet

thank u for coming to the match woo

fr

He didn’t sound upset at all. 

And Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile at his screen and keep messaging San until he fell asleep.

***

Wooyoung was waiting for Hongjoong, sitting in their regular seats. His friend messaged him fifteen minutes ago to tell him he was running late because his cat knocked over a glass of water and he had to pick up the broken pieces and clean the floor before leaving. Nothing new under the sun considering Hongjoong’s cat was the devil, but a pocketsize version. 

On his way to their class, he grabbed two chai lattes for them. They had promised each other a couple of months ago that they would reduce their consumption of caffeine and so far they had already stopped drinking their regular cup first thing in the morning.

Although when his classmates started gossiping right behind him, Wooyoung wished he was drinking straight up vodka to be able to digest the amount of nonsense he was hearing.

“He’s so extra, please,” one of them said, turning her phone so her group of friends could see the TikTok video too. 

Wooyoung hadn’t seen it but the moment the melody played out loud, he instantly recognised the song — Smoke . San had been obsessed with it lately and he told Wooyoung not too long ago that it kept him motivated when he was doing his workouts.

Which might mean…

“He tries so hard to be The Nice Guy,” another one said.

They giggled. “It’s not like he can try to be the smart guy. Remember when Hana told us that he still had one course from their first year and a few from the second so he wasn’t actually cursing his entire third year?” 

“He’s only good at kicking balls and he’s not even that good at that.”

Wooyoung’s blood ran cold when the first one who showed the video, Dahye, commented between high-pitched and annoying giggles that she bet he wasn’t even good in bed, considering people talked about many football players but never about him.

“Such a shame, though. He’s an idiot but look at that body,” she kept saying.

The worst part of it all was that their entire conversation wasn’t foreign to him; he used to be like that after all —a bitch , cruel, cold-hearted, too arrogant to look at his own flaws. Selfish. Rude. And terribly toxic. 

If he hadn’t grown past all of that, Wooyoung would have likely been sitting with them, instead of sharing the table with Hongjoong. He would be fooling around with San just to get a good fuck and then he would still badmouth him with them. 

He sipped his drink. 

“I just wish someone told him to stop embarrassing himself with all these ‘Go to the gym with me’ videos he’s posting lately. Enough of the Nice Guy energy. Bring back the thirst traps, sir. That’s what you are good at,” Dallia, Dahye’s best friend, commented as she rolled her eyes. 

“I hate to remember he’s gay. Do you think I could try to make him change his mind?” Dahye joked.

Enough.

“Do you always need to be such a pain in the ass?” Wooyoung asked, loud and clear, before he could think twice on what he wanted to say.

The whole group turned to look at him and Wooyoung gripped his plastic cup harder to not spiral and recall all the times he had ended up caught in arguments like this one.

This time it was different, though.

He had snapped because of San, not to make a scene.

“Excuse me?” Dallia raised her eyebrow. “Are we talking to you?”

Wooyoung licked his lips. All his classmates were used to his new self —well-mannered, quiet, focused and perfect student Wooyoung. The only times he got slightly heated was when they were debating interesting topics in class, but it was never serious.

“I bet the whole classroom can hear you so that automatically makes me part of the conversation. And honestly? I didn’t wake up this morning feeling in the mood to talk shit about someone who’s not even here to defend himself.”

What his classmates didn’t know was that underneath all this newborn sweetness aura, there was still a sharp tongue that could slice necks without needing to raise his voice. 

The group gasped and one of the guys, Haru, stepped closer to Wooyoung. 

“Am I smelling a lil’ crush on the football captain, Wooyoungie?”

It was like a switch. One second he was still the new Wooyoung, and the next he was letting the inner demon out to protect the person that had brought so much joy to his life in the past ten months.

A grin curled his lips. “Nah. Just me being bored of all your little chats where all of us have to listen to you tearing apart random people.” He tapped his chin, as if thinking about something. “Guess I’m not handling drinking less caffeine very well. My patience for bullshit is non-existent.”

Dahye stood next to Haru, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You sure you are not doing all of this to see if the football captain pays attention to you?” She cooed with a dramatic pout adorning her mouth. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to tell you that you are probably just the nerd that lives with the boyfriend of his best friend.”

Wooyoung wheezed. It sucked to still feel thrilled, adrenaline rushing through his body because he had the upper hand even if the rest thought he didn’t. He was never scared of these confrontations, they always were little games to play for him.

Who would have thought he was still unbeatable?

Sipping his drink again, Wooyoung leaned in until he could whisper, “Dahye, you are gonna need to step up the game if you think that’s going to hurt me.”

Especially when I’m spending the evening with San.

“Hope you don’t kill yourself by accidentally biting your poisoned tongue one day.”

He turned around after taking another sip and graciously plopped down next to an equally confused and amused Hongjoong who was already drinking his own chai latte as he shamelessly eavesdropped on the entire conversation. 

The group hadn’t shut up but Wooyoung could tell that they were now too occupied talking about him to remember anything else.

It was a win. 

“You okay?” Hongjoong murmured, apparently nonchalant, but with his eyes fixated on Wooyoung’s trembling hands.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, pressing his hands against his thighs to hide the tremor. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “It’s been… very long since the last time… I’ll feel better soon. Don’t worry.”

Hongjoong drew a tiny smile, knowing when it was time to drop the topic before Wooyoung huffed and his mood got sour. 

“Wanna see pics of the crime scene?”

“Of course. Let me see Mars causing chaos.”

***

“Don’t you have exams to prepare for or something?” San asked out of the blue after spending thirty minutes listening to Wooyoung explaining to him the content of the exam he’s retaking.

Wooyoung, who had been carefully checking in on San and was used to the other man getting easily restless and losing his focus the moment he stopped understanding something, blinked as he tilted his head in San’s direction.

“What do you mean?”

San groaned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in that exasperated way that Wooyoung found so endearing.

“You’ve been helping me with this course since before the semester began and the exams are approaching and you are still wasting so much time with this.”

Wooyoung frowned, shifting closer to San and stretching his arm out until his fingers were gently holding San’s chin to make sure that he was looking at him when he spoke.

“Listen, I never waste my time when I’m with you. You’ve been struggling with this course since your first year because the professor is a piece of shit and I happened to have a similar one with that same professor, so I know what type of exams he does and what he values the most. I offered to help you because I wanted to.”

There was some kind of silent agreement between Wooyoung and San —they were all raw honesty when one of them expressed their feelings on any matter. There wasn’t any space for jokes when that happened. In fact, they were very straight-forward most of the time after Wooyoung learnt that San wasn’t keen on the type of sarcasm that only worked as some kind of mechanism to protect hearts and hide real feelings and thoughts. 

Everything got even more serious if it was one of their biggest insecurities they were discussing, like it happened to be with San and his lack of capacity to study anything remotely theoric and dense.

“I feel like I take so much of your time with this and I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to pass the exam.”

Not only was the professor so useless that he hadn’t replied to any of San’s emails requesting to meet to solve some doubts, but he also forced all the students that were retaking his course to risk it all on one single exam divided in two parts.

An exam that wasn’t even at the end of the semester but in the middle of it.

Wooyoung despised him with all his being.

“You take the time I give you. And I also study when I’m with you. There are many other courses that you study by yourself.”

San shrugged. “It’s the second time I’m retaking this one and that’s without counting the others I’m retaking for the first time because I’m so stupid I can’t finish a single year without failing something.”

“San,” Wooyoung murmured, his fingers brushing his cheek. 

“Wooyoung.”

“Don’t you ever say you are stupid again. At least, not in front of me.”

The captain scoffed. “You know it’s not a lie. I’m slow . I get overwhelmed when I study and I can’t stay focused for long. I’m a dumb jock. And it’s not even a secret, everybody knows it.”

The grip on San’s face tightened and Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned even closer, practically making their noses bump. He couldn’t stop the memories of the argument he had that same morning with his classmates from filling his mind as he stared right into San’s dark eyes.

“People will always talk and they will never be happy with whatever you do, especially when you are popular. But that doesn’t mean everything they say is true,” Wooyoung stated, wondering in which moment in the middle of the conversation he had pushed his laptop aside to get on San’s lap and cradle his face properly. “You are not a dumb jock, though you are insane at any sport.”

San sighed, his palms pressed against Wooyoung’s hands, that were still framing his own face.

“How can you be so wise with all of this?” 

Wooyoung let out a sad chuckle. “Because of all the wrong reasons, but I hate to talk about it.”

San turned his head to kiss Wooyoung’s wrist and the latter reduced the already invisible space between their bodies to slide their lips together in a soft peck. 

“You are amazing, San.”

Wooyoung couldn’t tell what possessed him when his thumbs traced circles across San’s cheek and he beamed, as though their dynamic consisted of sweet kisses and tender caresses. It wasn’t their first time but it wasn’t their norm either, yet it felt so natural regardless.

Since the argument with his classmates, he had been craving this closeness with San, wanting nothing more than bathe him in all the praises those people weren’t saying but San deserved either way.

“Who cares if you take a little bit more time to pass your exams, there are so many other… wonderful things about you.”

So many .

Wooyoung could write a long list of them by heart.

“What if you are just biased?”

Their lips met again. “I am, but I’m still right.”

San beamed against his mouth, his hands trailing up Wooyoung’s arms and falling down his back until they found its place around Wooyoung’s waist. 

Usually, when they got to this point, they either kept talking and pretended the tender moment never happened or they succumbed to their usual heated lust. Nevertheless, that evening was different. 

The line that they carefully traced months ago had been getting blurry lately and Wooyoung suspected that they had erased it completely after those short pecks. The famous wall that was impossible to climb and kept Wooyoung safe had… disappeared.

Or maybe it wasn’t that high anymore.

Or maybe Wooyoung gave San the key between sweet words and subtle caresses and he wasn’t planning on taking it back.

So, instead of pulling back or devouring each other, Wooyoung let their lips dance together again at the same slow pace; having a private waltz of those deep kisses that made the bones tingle and an unknown sensation soar beneath the skin.

“Thank you,” San whispered, their eyes locked after they withdrew to catch their breath. “For helping me and for listening to me and for…”

Wooyoung wasn’t purposely oblivious, he was aware that his feelings for San had been growing incessantly since the first day the captain wished him a good night via message for absolutely no reason, a good amount of months ago. 

He used to have it under control but between their long dinners, their deep conversations and the not-so-subtle way in which they cuddled every damn time they watched a movie together, Wooyoung had forgotten what being careful meant.

And he had needed to attend a match and hear some classmates talking behind San’s back to get the whole freaking picture. 

Although he wasn’t brave enough to put a label on it. To call things by their name.

Not when it was easier to repeat inside his head that San was special.

And because of that, he had to make the effort of going out with him or, at least, start by opening up about his high school years and all the scars they left behind.

“And for…?” Wooyoung repeated, his voice like porcelain.

“Forget it.” San silenced him with another kiss. 

Wooyoung mouthed along San’s jawline, relishing in the warm touch of San’s hands under his hoodie, touching his vertebrae as if they were an instrument he played by muscle memory, pressing all the keys that made the most beautiful melody resonate around the living room.

Even if the only melody filling the room was Wooyoung’s quiet whine when San kissed the base of his neck. 

“You should be studying,” Wooyoung mumbled, offering no resistance when San’s hands pulled at his sweater to peel it off his body along with the t-shirt he was wearing underneath. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

Wooyoung took San’s glasses off whilst a guilty smile hung from his lips.

“I want to feel you.”

The intimate atmosphere became suffocating after San removed his hoodie and Wooyoung took his hand to lead him to his bedroom, kicking the door closed and crawling on top of him, his legs on both sides of San’s body and his hands on San’s chest.

“I could spend the rest of the day just kissing you,” Wooyoung confessed as he bent down to brush San’s collarbones with his lips. 

He was kissing down San’s chest when he realised that this all consuming craving didn’t come from the same place that their undeniable attraction did. His eyes widened for a split second, his mouth sucking on one of San’s nipples and his body shuddering at the sound of San’s rigged breathing.

Tonight it wasn’t about making San scream his name. He needed the captain drenched in praises dressed as kisses; gasping for air in the deep pool of all the words that never did him justice but that came close to it; drunk on the electricity that Wooyoung felt under his fingertips when he traced his figure and San squirmed under the touch.

He was so stunning like that —devoid of restraints; flushed and vulnerable. 

Pleased to give Wooyoung the world if Wooyoung asked for it.

When stupid, silly Wooyoung felt like his world could currently fit inside his tiny room.

The remaining pieces of clothes were tossed aside after countless kisses and whispers. Wooyoung got lost between San’s legs, his lips stretched around his shaft and his head bobbed as though following the same song that San played on his back earlier, even if the singer now was San, with his low moans. 

Fingers tangled in his long, dark strands and Wooyoung hummed around the length resting on his tongue before kissing the tip and going up again, not interested in teasing him like that. It wasn’t the time.

San’s arm wrapped around his waist and Wooyoung let out a soft giggle when he switched their positions to hover above him. His thumb traced Wooyoung’s parted lips, his jaw and the beginning of his neck under the long stare of Wooyoung himself. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

It was addictive to feel someone like that, Wooyoung learnt whilst San was loosening him up, his eyes never leaving the captain’s face, engraving in a very particular corner of his brain how San pursed his lips and seemed to stare at him through his eyelashes when he was focused on making him drown too.

Because that was what San was doing.

He built another damn pool, likely filled to the brim with more words. With more sweet fucking nothings and whatnot. And was dragging Wooyoung to the bottom of it.

Even if he had never breathed so freely before.

“Princess,” San murmured after Wooyoung sank down, sitting on his pelvis and letting their chests meet again.

“Yeah?” 

Neither of them had moved yet.

“I don’t think I’ll last.”

Wooyoung rolled his hips, a weak whimper escaping his mouth at the sensation of San sliding even deeper inside him.

“Me neither.”

Having San roughly pulling his hair and snapping his hips was exhilarating and Wooyoung would always love how out of control the captain looked when they were like that, but the moment their gazes locked as he kept rocking his hips, Wooyoung understood that having sex like this left an imprint that the eye couldn’t see. 

Time slowed down whilst their mouths slotted together.

San pronounced his name softly, barely keeping himself together as he began following Wooyoung’s rhythm, his feet planted on the mattress and his hips thrusting up. His voice was so delicate that Wooyoung almost broke down, the emotions overflowing his entire being and stealing his capacity to voice any of them.

Everything crumbled down the day Wooyoung went to the match and came back home with a hollow ribcage. And his body, unable to handle the new emptiness, had poured all the feelings that Wooyoung had been harbouring all over the place. 

Like an exhibition. 

There were feelings around his bones, inside his veins, digging holes in his skull, causing his skin to break into goosebumps. 

He wasn’t a liar, he only carried too many secrets. And likely, too preoccupied with their relationship and obsessed with keeping it to themselves, away from the public eye, he missed all the alarms that warned him about this.

Everything would be so much easier if his past disappeared.

Wooyoung bet he would have realised all of this was happening way sooner if his memories weren’t holding him back.

“Sannie,” Wooyoung moaned, his voice cracking. “I c-can’t.”

He was so overwhelmed that his legs weren’t even responding anymore, his body like a ragdoll on top of San’s, letting the other man manhandle him until he fell onto the mattress and San thrust back in.

“Better?”

Wooyoung’s arms flew around San’s neck whilst the latter picked up the same pace, their figures tangled in all the ways possible and Wooyoung’s chest heaving in a futile attempt at surviving the tornado of reality that had just ran through him.

When did San become someone so important to him?

“Yeah. God. ‘M close.”

San grinned and one of his arms trailed down Wooyoung’s chest out of habit, because normally when Wooyoung said that, he was subtly inviting San to touch him. Wooyoung’s fingers closed around San’s wrist as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t wanna come yet. Keep going.”

He was scared of the freefall. 

What would happen when he came down from this high? 

What if everything around him had changed forever?

Wooyoung didn’t want to know yet. 

San stared at him and preventing any possible retort, Wooyoung smashed their mouths together again, with abandon, biting lips and finding his tongue. They moaned in the middle of the kiss and breathed from each other’s mouth before surging forwards again.

The sensations overpowered his perception of the world around him so badly that Wooyoung gasped, surprised, the moment his climax ripped through him. His body shuddered and he hugged San even tighter, not wanting him to stop until he finished too but also not wanting him to go away once he did.

His eyes stayed closed, the fear eating him up whilst he calmed down. 

San’s lips kissed his eyelid and Wooyoung trembled again.

What was he doing? Why was he making it harder?

Lips against the mole under his eye. Lips pressed over the corner of his mouth. 

“You are amazing too, Wooyoung.”

Shit .

It wasn’t supposed to feel so… warm. He was supposed to crash, not to land safely in San’s arms.

His eyes opened and Wooyoung beamed at the sight of the starry night inside San’s.

How was he going to reconcile the part of him that couldn’t handle the idea of destroying his peaceful life and the one that was tired of hiding his relationship with San from everyone else?

Chapter Text

moodboard by dee

“I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be.
And satisfaction feels like a distant memory.
And I can't help myself.
All I wanna ever say is, ‘Are you mine?’”

Wooyoung stared at his reflection. The sweater he was wearing looked huge on him but, fortunately, nobody could tell that it was San’s. Only Yeosang knew his little secret and that had cost him endless jokes every time they brought up the next match. 

“Why couldn’t he be a regular student?” Wooyoung whispered after his eyes found Yeosang’s through the mirror. “This would be so much easier.”

Yeosang leaned against the wall of the bathroom.

“Maybe it’s a sign to finally face all of this.”

“I’d prefer to deal with my shit without involving anyone else.”

“You’d have had to tell him anyway, Woo.”

Wooyoung tilted his head to apply some concealer and a subtle eyeshadow to enhance the shape of his eyes. He scanned the palette he had in his hand and let out a loud sigh. His relationship with make-up had also evolved so much since he started college, yet the old tricks had never abandoned him.

“But I don’t get to decide the timing like this. I feel like I’m living in a countdown. It’s been almost a year and I…” 

It had been ten days since that evening where he and San had undressed themselves in his bedroom and Wooyoung thought he would get buried under his own feelings, and even though he still behaved with San like he had always done, something had shifted between them. 

“San could have pressured you a long time ago. And the timing is never perfect for shit like this.”

“Yeah but how am I supposed to explain to him that me being a mean bitch and making a bunch of mistakes in the past is the reason why I’m having such a hard time interacting with him in public now?” Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose. “He is so important to me and I know he should be above all of this but it’s like I freeze when I think about taking another step and I’m so scared of him losing all his patience or finally asking me about this or I don’t know.”

If Yeosang was surprised by the sudden outburst, he hid it under his mask of calmness, his half-smile perfectly plastered on his lips and his eyes following Wooyoung’s every move.

“Take tiny steps, maybe? See how you feel. Show him that you trust him with this,” Yeosang suggested. “San is not stupid. He must know that there’s a reason for you to not go out with him after ten months.” He pointed at him. “Gotta say, that’s a very shitty summary of what actually happened.”

Wooyoung went back to his make-up, ignoring the last part of what Yeosang said.

“What if he thinks I also think he’s dumb, like other people do?”

His stomach twisted just contemplating the possibility.

“Well. You know him better than I do but to be fair, after such a long time, I would also start wondering if the problem is me.” Yeosang took a deep breath. “I would wonder why you can’t trust me and if I did something wrong but didn’t notice it.”

Silence embraced them and Wooyoung placed the palette on the ceramic of the sink before turning around to look at Yeosang. The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away until he said it out loud at least once. 

And he surely wasn’t going to say it to San until he had cleared up all this mess.

His tongue traced his lips and he swallowed the last bit of nerves that had pushed the confession to the back of his head.

“I think I love him and that’s making all of this so much harder.”

One of Yeosang’s eyebrows lifted up, smug. 

“You think?”

Wooyoung smiled. Surprisingly, coming to terms with his feelings had been way easier than finding the words to open up about his teenage years. 

“I’m eighty-three percent sure about it.”

“What about the seventeen percent that’s left?”

The smile lit up his face like make-up could never do as he replied, “That’s the part of me that’s still in panic about all of this.”

***

Messages:

j. woo [10:15]: 

i look small in your sweater

j. woo sent a picture

captain sannie [10:18]: 

dmfnb

j. woo [10:19]: 

?

captain sannie [10:19]: 

sorry

i dropped the phone

u look so good in it

The dots didn’t disappear for a while yet San didn’t send any more messages. 

Wooyoung pouted.

Messages:

j. woo [10:20]: 

what if i never give it back to you

captain sannie [10:21]: 

what if next time u steal the one w my name on the back

Silence.

Wooyoung bit back a silly smile but Yeosang saw it anyway and peeked over his shoulder to read the conversation without asking for permission. He chuckled and went back to his own phone. They were on the bus, close to their destination, but Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he would get to the venue in one piece considering the way his heart was beating.

Messages:

captain sannie [10:22]: 

huh

i mean

take ti

iot

IT 

the team one

forget what i said

j. woo [10:23]: 

but i wanna try the other one now ):

That counted as a small step, right? 

It had to. 

Messages:

captain sannie [10:23]: 

oh

hhhh aha

ok

j. woo [10:24]: 

ok?

Why the fuck was he so cute even through text?

Messages:

captain sannie [10:24]: 

im trying not to say smth

very VEYR

innapropiate

j. woo [10:24]: 

say it

captain sannie [10:25]: 

mmmmmmmmm fine

cant promise i wont try to fuck u sensless

in that sweater

j. woo [10:25]: 

isn’t it too early for those big promises, captain choi?

i’ll keep it in mind though

good luck w the match ♡

hope all the goals are for me again

captain sannie [10:26]: 

shutuppp

ofc they are princess

“Your smile is disgusting,” Yeosang pointed out. “Nobody believes that seventeen percent actually exists.”

***

Before the first match, Wooyoung was already starting to feel uneasy about the whole situation with San. He had been considering options and different ways to approach the topic without having to open up entirely all at once. 

However, back then he didn’t feel the same sense of urgency he felt now.

In the past months, the only real chances they'd had to meet in public had been during parties, and usually there were so many people around that it was never noticeable that their relationship was very different in public. Or, at least, Wooyoung was too drunk to lie to himself about it.

“You look more relaxed today,” Yeosang commented when they found their seats. “Feeling better?”

This time, Yeonjun wasn’t joining them because some classmates had done him dirty with a group project, so he would be working with them while listening to the live stream. Wooyoung was as pissed as he was when he read all the messages he had left in their group chat about it.

Wooyoung nodded. “Yeah. I guess you were right and I needed to start doing these things again to see that I was safe.”

In fact, the only thing that scared him was thinking about meeting San after the match ended. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that the whole day, wondering what he could do to make the situation less awkward without stepping too much further from his comfort zone. 

Wooyoung tried to not overthink it and enjoy the match but after half-time his stomach couldn’t stop twirling while his mind reminded him how badly he had felt the night of the previous match after treating San like he would treat a classmate.

He gulped down the rest of his Coke and gestured towards the bar to indicate to Yeosang that he was going to get another. He needed to keep his mind busy and his body moving to stop all these thoughts. 

On autopilot mode, his lips murmured his order while his eyes followed the match. He was completely detached from his body as he took his plastic cup and paid for his drink, his attention focused on San’s team fighting to reach the other side of the pitch. 

He didn’t move from the bar when he saw Yunho and San managing to survive the wave of players trying to steal the ball.

The move was so quick that, for a second, Wooyoung resisted the urge to blink. 

0-1.

He ran to an upper position, incapable of getting to his seat in time to celebrate with Yeosang, but getting the perfect view of San running to the side of the field to hug some of his teammates. Wooyoung smiled and his heart jolted for the second time that day when San pulled back and kissed the fingers of his right hand.

It was subtle and if he hadn’t been staring at him, he would have missed it. 

But it couldn’t be…, right?

San hadn’t just kissed the hand where he usually wore the gold ring with the amethyst that he had bought online with Wooyoung during one of their long nights together, drinking too much wine and not feeling in the mood to watch another silly movie.

Of course they are, princess.

The message resonated inside his head.

San didn’t know where he was seated this time, so he couldn’t make quick eye contact like last time. 

Did he really…?

“You scared me,” Yeosang suddenly said, showing up next to him. “I thought you would run to your seat with the goal. You okay?”

“Did you see what San did with his hand?”

“When? You know I have tunnel vision and tend to look at Jongho’s thighs too much.”

Wooyoung shook his head. 

“Maybe it was my imagination.” He dragged Yeosang to their seat before his friend could ask him anything about it, his fingers running over the silver necklace he had bought with San that same night. 

It couldn’t be .

But it couldn’t be a damn coincidence when some minutes later he scored another goal and did the same gesture before running back onto the pitch. 

“That’s the thing you asked me about?” Yeosang commented as he leaned towards him. 

“Did you see it?” His fingers touched his necklace again. 

“Yeah. He kissed them I think.” Yeosang’s gaze dropped to Wooyoung’s fingers and came back to Wooyoung’s face. “Wait a second.”

“Forget it. I’m sure I’m just making it up.”

“Wooyoung.”

He turned his head in Yeosang’s direction. “I know, it can’t be because of the ring. I don’t know why…”

“I don’t think you are making it up.”

His stomach twirled again. 

More than ever, he couldn’t face San after the match, because no matter how badly he wanted to do things right and stop hiding their relationship, he couldn’t jump a thousand steps all at once. 

God.

Wooyoung swallowed.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

He nodded, taking a long sip of his Coke. “I said I’m leaving.”

“The match hasn’t ended…? Is it because of…?”

“I can’t meet him and pretend… I can’t. I’ll want to hug him and kiss him and I can’t . I was anxious about it before the match started and after this I’m feeling worse.”

“Do you want me to leave with you?”

Wooyoung kissed Yeosang’s cheek, chuckling when his friend made a disgusted noise but didn’t pull back. 

“Stay and scream for me. I know you wanted to have lunch somewhere nearby with Jongho. I’m fine, a little anxious but fine.”

“Text me when you get home.”

Another kiss. Yeosang smiled this time. 

“I will.”

***

Wooyoung connected his headphones to his phone and clicked on the live stream as he waited for the bus. They were still winning and hopefully that wouldn’t change but if Wooyoung had learnt something about sports in the last few years of his life, it was that you couldn’t relax or take things for granted until the game was over.

His finger hovered above San’s chat and Wooyoung opened it before he could regret it. He had the live stream tab on one corner of his screen so he could still squint at what was happening while also commenting to San.

It was the least he could do after running away like a coward.

Messages:

j. woo [12:28]: 

that asshole trying to tackle mingi wtf

OMG

taehyun best goalkeeper

i thought that ball was in

wow

WHAT

GOAL?

Usually, when he was watching their football live streams, he did exactly the same thing with Yeosang and he had always stopped himself from messaging San about it because he didn’t want to address the reason why he preferred to stay at home if he was going to watch the match anyway.

It felt relieving to be able to text San instead.

Messages:

j. woo [12:40]: 

YOU SCARED ME

fuck

they zoomed in on your face after you tripped

did you need to be so hot even when you are sweaty

in every damn match they always end up giving me a heart attack with your face

what do you mean 5 more minutes

i’m going to commit arson

Wooyoung held his breath the couple of times that the other team threatened to score another goal. San’s team was still winning and they would automatically enter the championship if nothing changed. Wooyoung would scream inside the bus if they had to go into extra time. 

The score was perfect like it was now.

1-2.

The match came to an end a few minutes before his stop and Wooyoung filled San’s chat with keysmashes as he jumped off the bus to walk to his flat. He added some hearts and some celebration emojis. 

They entered the championship.

Officially.

His mood soured. 

They entered the championship and he wouldn’t be there to congratulate them when they left their locker rooms. Wooyoung would get it if San got upset because of that. But the idea of staying there was making him so uneasy. 

Especially after the ring gesture.

Why did his anxiety have to paralyse him so much with all of this?

Now that he was almost at home and his mind could see everything more clearly, Wooyoung felt like a fool because they could have gone to a restaurant with Jongho, Yeosang and the rest of their friends and nobody would have batted an eye. 

They wouldn’t have been able to kiss, but it wasn’t as if San and him were particularly affectionate. That wouldn’t even be weird between them.

Wooyoung failed in his attempt at not feeling guilty and not overthinking his decision, his thoughts turning into a mess whilst he changed clothes, heated some water to make tea and texted Yeosang to tell him that he had arrived safely. 

Maybe he had pissed San off with all his messages earlier.

His heart pounded in the middle of his throat, making him feel slightly dizzy as he waited for the water to boil. 

He took his phone to send another message to San. 

But what was he supposed to say?

God. Everything had fallen like a house of cards and the real question was how Wooyoung could keep it together for so long when the guilt, the need to open up and blurt the truth out, and his feelings for San had been simmering inside him for months .

His phone buzzed in his hand and Wooyoung shrieked when he read San’s contact name on the screen.

He was fucked.

“H-hello?” He stuttered, like an idiot. 

“Why did you leave by yourself?”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“If you weren’t feeling well, why did you leave by yourself? I…” San sighed. “Are you feeling better?”

Wooyoung stayed silent, his eyes looking at the kettle that indicated that his water was ready to be poured into a mug. 

He and San had started growing closer a few months after they started fooling around so Wooyoung guessed they actually started spending real time together almost seven months ago. Enough time to know quite a lot about a person and yet, there were so many sides of himself that he had hidden from the football captain. 

This sheer vulnerability that consumed it all was new for them both. Though San might have experienced something pretty similar the day he had asked Wooyoung if he didn’t have anything else to do while they were studying together. 

“Wooyoung? You are worrying me.”

“You aren’t mad?” Wooyoung whispered, finally moving to grab his tea bag, drop it in the mug and pour the boiling water in it. 

“What? No. I’m worried. Yeosang told me you had to leave earlier because you were getting anxious.”

“I’m feeling better now. You didn’t have to call, you should be celebrating that you entered the championship.”

Wooyoung could hear San smiling. “I wanted to call to check on you. My teammates are still deciding on where to go and I told them I had to make a call so I would join them later.”

“Thank you,” Wooyoung added in a very quiet voice, feeling warm all over his body.

San truly deserved his honesty and someone that didn’t go through a whole crisis just thinking about talking to him freely in public. When did he allow his past to cloud his mind like this? 

Hiding in a bubble away from the real world had been so easy until he met San.

“I wish I could be there with you,” San confessed.

“I’m fine. Really. I made some tea and I’m going to spend the rest of the day on the couch.”

Wooyoung couldn’t even tell if San’s presence would make everything better or worse.

San chuckled. “So stubborn.”

“Have fun and celebrate the win, captain.”

“I will.”

“Thank you for calling.”

San chuckled again and added, softly. “It’s nothing.”

Wooyoung was about to make a joke before hanging up when San spoke up again. This time in a teasing tone, likely sporting that grin that marked his dimples and made him look so attractive.

“I read all your messages commenting on the match.”

“I didn’t want to miss the rest even if I was going home.”

San hummed. “You said that in every match they always zoom in my face.”

Did he say that?

Wooyoung groaned. “I… Huh…”

“It wasn’t the first time you watched the live stream?”

Wooyoung made an embarrassing sound. “Maybe. Did you kiss the hand where you wear the ring we bought together because… of me?”

“You saw it? I didn’t know if you would catch that.” San was so open all the time. So adorably and unapologetically himself. “Yeah. It was for you. But don’t use your tricks on me. Since when have you been watching them?”

Wooyoung faked a dramatic sob. “Since the season began.”

“That was a few months ago.”

“I know.”

“But you never told me.”

Wooyoung bit his lip. He would have told him eventually. Right?

“Because you would have thought I was stupid for watching the live stream instead of going to the match.”

It was embarrassing to talk about his struggles out loud because without the context, it seemed like he was constantly overreacting and finding issues where there weren’t any. 

San sighed and Wooyoung stared at his mug of tea. 

What if San was currently thinking that he was an idiot but he was too good to say it out loud?

“You’ve been watching my matches in secret for a few months,” he ended mumbling.

Wooyoung hummed. There was no need to repeat it.

“You are so…” San sighed. 

“Silly? You can say it. I won’t be mad.”

“You make things so hard for me, Wooyoung.”

With knitted eyebrows, Wooyoung took a short sip. 

“Hard? Look, I was going to tell you eventually. I’m sorry I never said a thing, it’s just…”

“You don’t get it, do you? That’s not what I meant, but it doesn’t matter.”

“What do I have to get? I’m… You sure you don’t mind that I never told you before?”

“Very sure. I can see Taehyun and Soobin looking for me to drag me to the restaurant. Talk to you later, yeah? Rest and enjoy your tea, princess.”

And he hung up before Wooyoung could say a thing, leaving the medical student with a heavy heart, a bunch of unanswered questions and the sensation that whatever San was saying was more important than he let on.

***

Messages:

captain sannie [16:33]: 

captain sannie sent a picture

j. woo [16:34]: 

I TOLD YOU

I KNEW YOU WOULD PASS

CONGRATULATIONS SANNIE

💘💘💘

captain sannie [16:34]: 

can you believe i started crying lmao

jongho thought i hurt myself training or smth

j. woo [16:35]: 

you big baby

i’m so happy

the nightmare is over

captain sannie [16:35]: 

thank u for helping me

this is all thanks to u

j. woo [16:36]: 

that’s not true

you worked so hard for this

captain sannie [16:37]: 

i’m throwing a little celebration party

on sat

it’ll be just my close friends

wanna come?

j. woo [16:38]: 

i’ll be there

Obviously, Wooyoung wasn’t that much of an asshole —he had joined San’s private parties in the past. San promised him, a long time ago, that their secret was safe with his friends and, surprisingly, Wooyoung always trusted him whole-heartedly, because San could be many things but never a liar. And because, for some reason, Yeosang promising him that San was a good guy and San proving it multiple times, actually kept his trust issues under control.

Who would have thought.

However, although San’s friends knew what was going on between them, usually he and Wooyoung behaved like they hadn’t even kissed before. To be fair, they behaved like they used to do in the past when they were alone. 

If they weren’t going to have sex, they left any possible kiss or touch aside. 

It wasn’t even a decision Wooyoung made but some kind of agreement they used to have until it… disappeared, leaving them with the blurry boundaries they had been navigating for the past few weeks. 

“You look hot,” Yeosang praised when Wooyoung knocked on his door to ask him for his opinion. “San is going to kick us all out of his flat so he can fuck you against any available surface.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “We don’t fuck as much as you think.”

Most of the time, they were talking ; enjoying each other's company, whether that meant watching a movie together, having dinner, studying or scrolling through TikTok to show funny videos to each other.

“And that has never rung a bell for you?” 

“I thought we already established that I have feelings for him,” Wooyoung commented, more and more comfortable with this fact. 

Love wasn’t scary to him anyway.

Love had never been the real problem to him.

Yeosang walked towards Wooyoung to undo the first buttons of his blouse, winking at him when Wooyoung stared at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What I’m saying is that San is not a good actor and he’s head over heels for you. I bet he’s especially excited to see you tonight.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

Yeosang sighed. “Because I really want you to be happy, Youngie. And I can see you spiral from here when things are not really that complicated.”

Wooyoung squinted his eyes. “What do you know?”

Yeosang pretended to zip his mouth. “That’s my secret to keep. But let’s say Jongho and I just want all of this to unfold in the best way possible for you both.”

Wooyoung didn’t insist. Yeosang never gave in. 

“Can we go back to my outfit? Do you think it’s okay?”

He was wearing an oversized denim blouse, his favourite ripped, tight, black trousers and the chunky creepers that Hongjoong gifted him for his birthday a year ago. He had also applied some light make-up and picked his jewellery carefully.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“I have a plan,” Wooyoung murmured.

“Taking another step in the right direction tonight?”

Wooyoung smiled. “That’s the idea.”

*

“Hey, Wooyo,” Jongho greeted him when he got to the flat he shared with San. “San is out buying more beers with Seonghwa. Where did you leave my boyfriend?”

“Having a major crisis over his hair. He asked me to leave him alone so he could deal with it. Guess he’ll show up in twenty minutes or so.”

Jongho beamed and Wooyoung shook his head. It was adorable to see both Jongho and Yeosang smiling so softly and tenderly when someone mentioned the other. In all his years of friendship with Yeosang, he had never liked any of his partners as much as he liked Jongho, and Yeosang had never glowed so much either.

“Who’s coming?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen with Jongho to stock the wine and soju he had brought. 

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows but Wooyoung did his best to give him his back and fight with the fridge. He trusted San more than enough to not ask that question anymore when he invited him to these parties. Jongho should know it. 

“Y’know, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, Yeosang and you. Nothing new.”

“Can’t wait to see Seonghwa throwing daggers at me with his eyes.”

Seonghwa and San had met in high school, almost like Yeosang and him, and Seonghwa treated him like a little brother. He was very protective, so Wooyoung couldn’t judge him for hating him. 

If Jongho had asked Yeosang to be a secret and then had pulled all the bullshit Wooyoung had, Wooyoung would likely hate Jongho too.

But it hurt all the same. 

“He has many reasons to be worried,” Jongho commented, offering a beer to Wooyoung and turning on the oven to cook the pizzas. “Hwa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“I know.”

“And you don't know all his reasons either,” Jongho added.

“We are back!” San’s cheerful voice said as he opened the door, laughing at something Seonghwa was saying. “I’m telling you that the cheese pizza is better. Stop trying to brainwash me into liking the chicken one more.”

“It’s not brainwashing if I’m offering a good amount of reasons to like the chicken pizza more, you punk.”

Wooyoung was taking the pizzas out of the fridge with Jongho when the duo walked into the kitchen. He didn’t miss the way Seonghwa’s bright smile dropped. 

Nice.

“Didn’t know you were already here. You didn’t text me,” San said as he approached the fridge to put some beers inside. 

Seonghwa only made a gesture with his head and stood next to San, handing him beer after beer. 

“Yeah. I was trying to calm Yeosang down about his hair crisis and I forgot. Sorry. I brought wine and soju, like you asked me.”

“Thank you.”

Wooyoung looked at the oven again after waving at Seonghwa, feeling too awkward to even have a normal conversation with San, especially with Seonghwa right beside him giving him the cold shoulder. Normally, the rest were here too and it was easier to ignore the way one of San’s best friends would happily poke his eyes out.

He hadn’t even congratulated him in person for the exam yet.

When the oven light turned off, indicating that it had reached the perfect temperature, Wooyoung opened it and put the first pizza inside. He could hear Seonghwa and San bickering while they tried to organise the fridge properly but he stayed in front of the oven, in silence, taking short sips of his beer and sending crying emojis to Yeosang.

He even replied to Hongjoong’s messages to not look like a loser.

Unconsciously, he even blocked out the sound around him, concentrating only on his phone, his beer and the oven. So he didn’t hear Seonghwa leaving the kitchen nor San calling his name.

But he did feel his warm arm sliding around his waist and his lips pressing against his cheek.

“Are you okay?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened and the phone almost slipped out of his grip, his heart jumped inside his chest and his body automatically turned around in San’s embrace.

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just…” Everything . 

It was Wooyoung fighting his demons left and right to find a way to give San what he truly deserved and not all the crumbs he had been throwing in his direction since their relationship had started blooming. 

His mind was a constant mess. All the paranoid thoughts queueing inside his head to punch his guts one by one whilst a tiny voice begged him to risk it all. To try .

His arms circled around San’s shoulders and Wooyoung pulled him in until he could hug him like he should have done at the last match but also like he had been wanting to do since San told him he passed the exam.

Words got stuck in his throat, though. So he nuzzled against San’s jaw instead, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Someone is clingy tonight,” San murmured, his arms firmly wrapped around Wooyoung’s figure. As if he had been craving the hug just as much as Wooyoung. 

Maybe he had.

Wooyoung hoped so.

“I knew you would nail it,” Wooyoung replied as he pulled back enough to look at San. “Congrats on the championship too, captain,” he added, his voice so low that the only reason why San could hear him was how close they were. 

“Thank you for helping me with the exam and for coming to the match.” Wooyoung could feel his breathing over his lips. “And for coming tonight, and for watching the live streams, and…”

Wooyoung covered San’s mouth with his palm.

“Someone is making me very soft tonight.”

San smiled and Wooyoung moved his hand to caress the captain’s cheek. 

“You look gorgeous,” San kept saying, nonchalantly. Because his native language was feelings and honesty and he spoke it so fluently that Wooyoung was left speechless every damn time. His hand framed Wooyoung’s face, his smile impossibly sweet. “Can I kiss you?” 

Wooyoung exhaled, “Yeah.” 

But his lips were already pressed against San’s whilst his heart kept beating louder and louder each passing second. San gently pushed him against the kitchen counter before deepening the kiss, stealing a gasp from Wooyoung’s mouth, and when they both were parting their lips, Wooyoung’s alarm went off to remind him to check the pizza and take it out if necessary.

“Shit,” Wooyoung grunted as he took a step back to open the oven, confirming that the pizza was ready. 

San stayed draped around him, lazily kissing Wooyoung’s nape whilst the latter left the pizza on a plate and put another into the oven, kicking it closed with his foot before setting another alarm and turning around in San’s arms again.

“What’s got into you today?” Wooyoung asked when he noticed how tightly San was holding onto him and the little space between them since they had been left alone in the kitchen. 

“I’m happy.”

Wooyoung carded his fingers through San’s red strands as a wide smile curled his lips. 

“Yeah? That’s why you can’t let me go?”

San hummed, his nose trailing Wooyoung’s jawline. 

“Been wanting to hug you since the match.”

“Me too. When I saw that you won I really wanted to go back to the venue to hug you and celebrate with you but…”

San tensed, his gaze searching for Wooyoung’s face.

“Did you?”

Wooyoung’s fingers trembled over San’s cheeks.

This wasn’t what he had planned for that night but Wooyoung had noticed that once he had made the decision to start opening up and had attended the first match, it was getting slightly easier to let himself be without overthinking everything so much.

It took him a couple of seconds to speak again.

“I want to… touch you and… kiss you and hug you and… all those things way more times than I let out.” San’s fingers twitched over his waist but Wooyoung pushed himself to keep talking a little more. If he let San speak, he wouldn’t be able to say anything else. “I wish I wasn’t making all of this harder all the time.”

Opening up to San was so terrifying because Wooyoung would never forgive himself if San saw him differently afterwards. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. And he would never go back to that time.

He made too many mistakes and, in some way, Wooyoung had the theory that he ended up getting what he deserved. It had been low-key his fault. He should have been wiser.

San took one of Wooyoung’s hands between his fingers, as though fighting the light tremble or perhaps telling Wooyoung without words that he was fighting all those demons with him. 

“I wish I could do… something to help you feel… safe to do all those things whenever you want. But I’ll always choose your comfort above anything else. You know that.”

The tears pooled in his eyes and Wooyoung held onto San’s face even harder, taking a deep breath to not break down completely when San’s friends were in the living room. He could hear Mingi and Yunho’s voices too.

“What if my comfort is just me being a coward? It’s…” Wooyoung wondered how glassy his eyes looked. 

San kissed his cheek, almost wiping a tear that hadn’t broken free yet. 

“A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have been like this with me while my friends are here too. I… don’t know what happened or what’s happening but I know you are letting me in at your own pace. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.” Their lips brushed. “You hear me?”

Wooyoung’s eyes closed as their lips met again, softer than ever.

It felt like the moment could shatter in their hands if they weren’t careful enough.

I love you, Choi San.

“You are so important to me, San.”

San’s breath hitched as he slotted their lips together again, taking all his time savouring Wooyoung and making his legs buckle. Wooyoung poured everything into the touch. He leaned onto the tip of his creepers and held San properly, only remembering where they actually were when a hand tapped San’s back and they broke away.

Yeosang chuckled. “Congrats on the exam.” He opened his beer can and pointed at his hair, his eyes landing on Wooyoung’s face. “I fixed it. Cheers!” He raised the beer and took a long sip as he exited the kitchen again.

Wooyoung blushed and San pressed his lips against his forehead. 

And then, Wooyoung realised that it had been too long since they put the pizza into the oven and his phone hadn’t rang yet. 

“I think I actually forgot to set the alarm for the pizza,” he admitted as he tilted his head towards the oven. 

“Fuck.”

*

Surprisingly, Wooyoung avoided any possible comment coming from Seonghwa. He also stayed far away from San, sitting next to Yeosang and Jongho, but from time to time their gazes locked and Wooyoung winked at him or just smiled.

And that felt so good.

By the time they had emptied all the alcohol in the fridge, the people gathered in the living room had two opposing moods —time to go to a club or time to drink a whole bottle of water and pray to not have a hangover. 

Yeosang, Jongho, Mingi and Yunho picked a place to keep going with the party and Seonghwa declined the offer, sighing dramatically before explaining that he had an evening shift the next day and he would like to not go to work feeling nauseous. 

San and Wooyoung were in the kitchen filling the dishwasher while the exchange happened in the living room. 

As expected, San was slightly tipsy and Wooyoung only felt a pleasant buzz at the back of his head since neither of them had tried to keep up with their friends.

“Are you going home?” San asked in a whisper. 

Wooyoung licked his lips. 

His original plan was suggesting doing this another night but he guessed that it didn’t matter if…

“I think I need to take a long walk to clear my head a bit before going to bed.” Wooyoung put another glass in the dishwasher. He didn’t want to see San’s face. “Are you sleepy?”

San shook his head. “Guess I’ll watch a video or something to see if I fall asleep.”

“Wanna come with me?”

“O-outside?”

The light stutter was like a pang through Wooyoung’s chest.

“If you want. You said you are not sleepy so I thought…”

Please, say yes. Say yes, say yes, say yes.

“I want to. I was just…”

Wooyoung bit his lip. “Was it too sudden? Sorry.”

He was shaking .

“It caught me off guard but if you give me a few minutes I’ll collect myself and we can pretend I’m totally fine.”

Wooyoung took San’s hand. “I’m anxious as fuck,” he confessed, “so you don’t need to pretend you are fine.”

They closed the dishwasher and joined the rest while all of them were grabbing their jackets. 

“We are going to Blue Moon,” Yeosang informed, as though they hadn’t been having the discussion some minutes prior so loudly that probably even the neighbours had got the memo of the club they were going to. “Are you coming, Youngie?”

Wooyoung took his jacket and wrapped himself in it.

“I’m going to get some air. Take a walk, enjoy the night. You know.”

Yeosang scrunched up his nose when he saw San emerging from his bedroom wearing his long coat.

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get lost on his way home,” he informed, his voice so casual that it seemed like it was a regular thing to do. 

Seonghwa snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to keep my comments to myself.” 

Jongho slapped his arm and Seonghwa shook his head. “Have fun I guess. My taxi must be here already.”

Wooyoung stared at his shoes while Seonghwa said his farewell, only raising his head to wave at him before Seonghwa closed the door behind him.

At least, Mingi and Yunho were too smashed to have noticed the tense atmosphere. 

Yeosang approached him and Wooyoung shrugged while his best friend helped him to adjust the hood over his head. The nights were starting to get cold and Wooyoung didn’t want to catch a cold just because his anxiety didn’t act up so much if they were outside while the moon was in the sky and nobody could recognise them.

“Was this your plan?” Yeosang asked, too loud for Wooyoung’s liking even if he behaved as if he was just whispering. 

Wooyoung nodded. “Do you think it’s silly?”

“Silly? ‘M proud.”

A tiny smile bloomed on Wooyoung’s lips.

“Maybe I won’t be able to do anything else because Seonghwa kills me in my sleep.”

“Don’t think about him,” Yeosang slurred cutely. 

“Have fun at the club.”

Yeosang gestured towards the door, where Mingi, Yunho and Jongho were waiting for him while laughing at some joke Yunho had just told. 

“Are you seeing that? I will.” 

They took their party elsewhere less than five minutes later, leaving San and him alone in the living room. Wooyoung drew a shy smile and walked towards the door after drinking half of a bottle of water in one go, waiting for San to drink the rest. 

He made sure that he had pocketed his phone and took a deep breath.

It was insane how nerve-wrecking the situation was considering how mundane it actually was.

Neither San nor him said a single word as they walked out of the building. Their steps guided them in the direction of the river and Wooyoung realised that they had been quiet for more than ten minutes when their hands brushed as they walked side by side and San chuckled.

Wooyoung tilted his head in San’s direction to find the captain sporting a half-smile, his hair tucked under one of his black caps and his body looking too good in that long coat that he picked. 

He smiled too.

“We are stupid, aren’t we?” Wooyoung wondered out loud.

“Maybe?” 

Their hands brushed again and Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat. 

“I love to take walks late at night,” he confessed.

It was a habit he picked up during his last year of high school, when life got so suffocating that only the quietness of the night and the cool breeze helped him to fill his lungs. He didn’t even need to sneak out, his parents were usually asleep by the time Wooyoung changed clothes and ran outside.

And even if they weren't, they never said a thing.

“That’s why you reply to some of my messages so late?” 

Wooyoung giggled. “Yeah. Yeosang used to get so worried.”

“Because it’s late?”

“No. Because I would forget to check my phone while I was outside and sometimes I would leave at eleven and come home two hours later.” Wooyoung sighed. “I know it’s… weird , but it’s… it used to be the time where nobody bothered me.”

Now that he thought about it, this was one of the few things that he usually refused to share with anyone else but when he considered different steps to take, his mind automatically picked this one. Wooyoung didn’t even realise the deeper meaning behind it, too preoccupied by his own reaction and by what San might think. 

But he did invite San to take a late walk with him.

Because even if he couldn’t do that during the day yet, he at least wanted to share something that was important to him.

“Bothered you?” 

Wooyoung darted his gaze away. 

“Yeah. The world was so loud to me. I just wanted to escape all of that and simply exist.” 

San and Wooyoung stared at the river and the latter linked their pinky fingers together for a split second.

“Do you still want to escape?”

“No.”

Wooyoung didn’t have to think twice about the question. The answer materialised on his lips in less than a second.

San caught his pinky again and released it.

“Life is good now.” He craned his head towards the captain. “I’m doing better now.”

It was truly fascinating how his heart raced, threatening to escape his chest, just because San was playing with his hand. They had certainly got way more physical —they had seen each other naked countless times—, but Wooyoung would say that this was one of the most intimate gestures they had ever shared.

There was something fragile blooming between them as their pinky fingers intertwined. 

Wooyoung needed San to love him back so badly.

Better said, Wooyoung needed nothing to change after he confessed.

“That’s…” San exhaled. “Good.” His free hand scratched his nape, as if he was struggling to voice his thoughts. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Wooyoung’s short nails caressed the back of San’s hand while he wondered if one day he would stop getting lost inside San’s eyes. 

“You’ve never needed to escape?”

San wrapped his fingers completely around Wooyoung’s wrist and guided him along the river, his thumb casually drawing circles over the cold skin of the medical student. 

“A bunch of times.” San’s tone seemed to be mocking himself. “I think I’ve told you a bit about high school.”

Wooyoung swallowed. The few times San brought that topic up, Wooyoung had been so tense, hoping that the captain never asked him about how he was back then and instead let Wooyoung decide when to talk about it. 

“You told me that it sucked to come out but…” 

Just like Wooyoung expected San to be patient with him, Wooyoung had never asked about San’s past. Especially when he confessed that certain parts of it were tough and had left a scar.

#

“I confided in the wrong person that I thought I was gay.”

Wooyoung intertwined their fingers properly, in a silent way to show San that he was listening. That he was there with him. That whatever story he was going to share was part of a past that wasn’t there anymore.

His lips stayed pressed in a thin line.

“He was another football player and one day we stayed till late training together and…” San shrugged. “I don’t even remember what happened properly. We were showering and all of a sudden we were… touching each other and we ended up jerking off next to each other.” 

Wooyoung wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the rest of the story. 

“I was almost sixteen and every time Seonghwa told me about the guy he was talking to back then I always thought that I wanted something like that. That I didn’t want to find the ‘cheerleader’ that everyone said I should have as a girlfriend.”

San plopped down on a bench and Wooyoung kept their laced hands on his lap.

“So… yeah. After that, I kind of blurted it out and he was…” San cackled, as if it was remotely funny. “He said that he wasn’t like that . That he didn’t like dicks. Whatever. The next week some teammates tried to pull some shit because of it. You can imagine the rest.”

Wooyoung was staring at San, although the latter was looking at the river. 

“You never stopped playing after that.”

You never gave up.

San smiled, the ghost of his memories casting shadows around them.

“After many months, I kind of promised myself that I would never let any asshole make anyone feel unsafe in a team. But it sucked to get there and I wished, for so many nights, to just… escape.”

Finally, finally , he tilted his head in Wooyoung’s direction, embarrassment painted all over his face.

“I got too deep there, huh? Guess midnight makes me overshare.”

#

“It’s not oversharing if I asked first,” Wooyoung spat through clenched teeth, the need to protect younger San boiling in his guts. “That was fucked up. It’s hard enough to come to terms with the fact that we are not straight. You didn’t need that on top of everything.”

San clutched his hand like a child scared of being left alone in the dark.

“I wish it wasn’t necessary.”

“Suffering?”

“That, too. But I meant coming out.” San looked at the river again. “I don’t mind that many people know me as the gay football captain. I made it very public on purpose. But I wish it wasn’t like this.”

“People suck,” Wooyoung mumbled. “But Jongho told me that thanks to that the atmosphere in the team is unmatched.”

The pride finally pushed the sadness away and Wooyoung smiled as San’s chest inflated and his dimples deepened. 

“Yeah. Nobody cares there. The only thing that matters is that we all do our best on the field.”

Wooyoung caressed San’s knuckles. “That’s so nice.”

“Did you play sports in high school?” San asked, likely wanting to get another little piece of information to know Wooyoung a bit better.

“Not really. But I always had a thing for football players,” he joked, dryly. His gaze couldn’t even stay focused on San. “Neither of them treated me like you, though.”

Considering he had sex for the first time with one that was five years older than him and only liked how inexperienced and naive he was, Wooyoung guessed the bar was extremely low. Then, he got his awful lower back tattoo and dyed his hair blonde to impress the second one. 

Popularity kicked off between all the chaos.

“You have a type.”

Wooyoung snorted and kept to himself the part where he promised himself he wouldn’t get involved with another football player. He didn’t regret breaking his promise if that meant meeting San.

“I should have tried to be a cheerleader to have the full experience,” he joked again, because he was unable to talk seriously about anything related to those times. It was a sucky coping mechanism, Yeosang hated it whole-heartedly, but the other option was getting defensive. 

“I wouldn’t score a single goal if you were there shaking your ass.”

A giggle echoed in the quietness of the night. 

“Revenge. You look so hot in your uniform.” Wooyoung licked his lips and lowered his voice, leaning closer to San to add in a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind getting fucked while you are wearing it.”

San let go of his hand to cover part of his face whilst he coughed, which only made Wooyoung laugh again.

“Sorry. The moment was so cute and I had to ruin it with a horny comment. I have been wanting to tell you since you sent me your first mirror selfie after a match.”

“You look hot as fuck in my team sweater too.”

“Shush.”

The conversation drifted to other places afterwards. 

They talked about how nervous San had been the first time he actually sent him a mirror selfie, because he wasn’t trying to look like the Typical Dude that sends thirst traps in his locker room, but at the same time he really wanted Wooyoung to think he was a catch.

And they also talked about how long it took Wooyoung to send San the first message after the first night they fooled around. 

“I can’t recall why Jongho and Yeosang were so drunk. I only remember them ditching us in the middle of a conversation because they were horny and Yeosang wanted to blow Jongho,” Wooyoung commented through a smile whilst they walked to his flat. 

“I was going to get my jacket to head home when you asked me if I wanted to finish the other bottles of soju together.”

“You were making me laugh so much. I really didn’t want you to leave.”

They were still playing with their fingers, taking each other’s hands, releasing them; not putting any interest in hiding their smiles nor how much they craved to just hold and never let go.

“I realised that although one of my best friends and your best friend were dating and we had been at the same place before, we hadn’t talked before and you were so…” San made a vague gesture. “I wasn’t thinking about making out with you when you asked me to stay.”

They were walking down Wooyoung’s street. 

Only the night witnessed how Wooyoung laced their fingers together again and walked the remaining steps holding onto him.

“Me neither. Although several hours and too many shots later, I could only think about kissing you.”

The feeling hadn’t abandoned Wooyoung since that first night. 

In fact, ten months later, the desire to kiss him had possessed him. He missed San’s mouth setting a fire all over his body and also the sweet kisses that turned everything to ashes way faster than the flames.

“I bet I would have gone home thinking about you if you hadn’t asked me if you could kiss me.”

They stopped before the door of Wooyoung’s building. 

His eyes checked one last time that nobody could see them.

Only the moon and the stars. 

Wooyoung pulled at San’s hand, inviting him to step forward. The palm of his other hand pressed flat against San’s chest.

“Will you go home thinking about me if you don’t kiss me tonight too?” Wooyoung murmured. “Because I can ask again.”

San stared at him.

And Wooyoung grinned the moment the implications sank in and San’s eyes widened ever so slightly. 

“Can I?” San asked, his fingers inches away from framing Wooyoung’s cheek.

It was the second time he had asked for permission that day and if only San knew how safe he made Wooyoung feel every time he made sure they both were on the same page. 

“Please.”

Or I’ll be the one that will go to bed thinking about kissing you .

And they kissed, away from curious eyes and, somewhat, trapped in their regular safe world. 

When they pulled back, San’s eyes gleamed like another star and Wooyoung realised that he would want to kiss him outside more often if San was going to look at him like that again.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby.
Nothing's gonna take you from my side.”

After the late night walk with San, Wooyoung fooled himself enough to think he had made huge progress. He rambled about it to Yeosang, firmly believing that, perhaps, he could take more steps sooner than expected. 

Their relationship hadn’t changed much, though —they still met mostly at their flats and texted more than anyone should do while they were in class.

Wooyoung re-read Yeosang’s message, rolling his eyes as he picked up his backpack and walked towards the gym they had close to their campus. They were supposed to meet directly at the mall but apparently the prospect of seeing Jongho all sweaty and lifting weights had made Yeosang decide to work-out on a different day than usual.

No judgement from his part. Yeosang and Jongho’s schedules never aligned and considering how important going to the gym was for them, he kind of guessed that it was more special than horny to go together. 

The problem with the sudden change of plans was that Wooyoung didn’t put two and two together as he approached the building where the gym was. For him, Yeosang was alone with Jongho. His previous knowledge about San always working out with the other football player had evaporated from his mind. 

So the surprise froze him in place when he saw the captain outside, freshly showered, tying his shoelaces. His vision zeroed in on him and Wooyoung ignored how obvious it was that some of the gym classes were either starting, ending or both; the amount of people entering and leaving the building keeping Wooyoung painfully aware of the fact that this wasn’t a late night walk.

And that his progress wasn’t as big as he thought, because he stayed still like a statue while San straightened up and met his eyes. 

He looked as lost as Wooyoung felt but thankfully he didn’t join Wooyoung in the amazing activity of making a fool of himself.

“Looking for Yeosang?”

Contrary to Wooyoung, who seemed to forget how good he secretly was at talking to anyone and playing his cards in his favour when he saw San in public, San proved why he had been a team captain since his second year of college.

He was so good at making conversation, bringing a sense of comfort no matter what he said. 

“Yeah. He told me twenty minutes ago that he was finishing his sets.”

San ran his hand through his damp, red hair after snorting. 

“That must have been before Jongho asked him to spot him. I got fed up when they started flirting right in front of me so…” He rubbed his nape. “Guess they should be showering by now?”

Wooyoung nodded, too awkward to behave like a decent human being.

“Okay. I’ll wait then. H-hm.” He nodded again, in case San had any doubts on how stupid Wooyoung could be. “You are waiting too?”

San leaned against the building, a fond smile adorning his lips.

What was so funny about his question? He was trying to have a conversation, even though a very persuasive part of him was begging him to run. Hide. Get away. Make sure nobody was looking at them too much.

“I live with Jongho, Wooyoung.”

Even the distance between them felt wrong —San was too far. And they hadn’t even hugged, when lately it was their norm to greet each other like that.

God. Until the day of the first match, Wooyoung had never had the chance to test how he would manage San’s presence while surrounded by people. Sure, they had crossed paths in the past and also gone to the same club, but it wasn’t like this .

It was so damn hard to act naturally when his head was replaying at high speed how badly he spiralled years ago the moment people paid attention to him. 

His eyes pretended to look at San but he was actually seeing the back-handed compliments, the jealousy in everyone’s eyes because he was nearly fifteen when the football players from the university close to his high school asked for his Instagram, and also the fake smiles of every person who acted like his friend because they craved his popularity.

When that fucking popularity was rotten. 

It consumed every good intention inside of him, buried his innocence after tearing it apart and promised him a happiness that was just an illusion. He was never happy while everyone gossiped about his life; he was just addicted to all of it.

Wooyoung blinked.

He was with San now.

That happened years ago.

“True. True.” 

Wooyoung nodded again, his gaze going from San’s face to the gym door. 

He felt so uneasy, and it wasn’t San’s fault.

“Guess we are…” His voice trailed off when he recognised the same classmates he got into an argument with because of San a few weeks ago walking towards the building. Dahye, Dallia and Haru, without the rest of their little sheep. 

His lungs constricted and San took a hesitant step in his direction.

Wooyoung raised his hand to indicate that he was fine, even if he wasn’t. Shit. He fucking wasn’t. Where was Yeosang? There were so many things happening at once and Wooyoung hadn’t even prepared himself to see San today.

It was unfair to throw him into a situation like this when he had been taking controlled steps. 

This really triggered everything, starting from the memories and continuing with all the fears that said memories fed. 

“Hi, Sannie,” Dahye said with a cocky grin.

Sannie .

That bitch. As if she wasn’t talking shit about him for the whole classroom to listen, likely because it pissed her off that San would never like her. Such a miserable human. No wonder the day she introduced herself to Wooyoung, something inside of him told him to stay the hell away from her and her friends.

“Hey,” San made a gesture with his head. 

Haru chuckled, his eyes going back and forth between Wooyoung and San.

Wooyoung remembered him asking if he had a crush on San. This didn’t help the case. 

He took a deep breath. San was Jongho’s flatmate and best friend, and Jongho was dating Yeosang. This meant nothing. This wasn’t going to blow up. It wasn’t weird to find them clearly waiting for someone outside of a gym. 

It was nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

“Hi, Wooyi,” Dallia purred, dragging all the letters purposely in a mocking tone that seemed to call him a liar. Maybe it was all in Wooyoung’s mind.

Wooyoung drew a tense smile. 

“Are you excited for the championship?” She automatically asked, ignoring Wooyoung again and looking at San.

See? Popularity was the devil because he knew damn well how badly they had talked about San and yet, that didn’t take away how much they needed San to talk to them, to be friendly, to show interest. 

“Huh…” San took a quick glance at Wooyoung. Could he tell that Wooyoung was a second away from having a meltdown? “Yeah. We are. We’ve worked so hard for it.” San checked the time on his phone and looked at him again. “Wooyoung, could you go inside and find Yeosang and Jongho? I’m going to kill him if we end up being late to the cinema.”

An angel on Earth.

That was what San was.

“Sure.” He didn’t even say goodbye as he ran into the building, leaving San with the snakes but knowing that he was capable enough to deal with them easily.

Wooyoung stormed through the gym on autopilot and if it wasn’t for Jongho having fast reflexes, he would have collided with him on his way to the lockers. 

“Woo?” Yeosang called, standing beside Jongho whilst the football player held Wooyoung by the arms. 

“You okay, Wooyo?” Jongho added. 

“No.”

Yeosang offered him his refilled bottle of water and Wooyoung muttered a quick apology before taking a long sip. This wasn’t unusual for him but lately he used to have the demons under control. Getting overwhelmed and anxious because of the world around him was his daily life during his last year of high school and his first year in medicine school. 

“Would you prefer to stay inside or should we go outside?” Yeosang murmured after Jongho guided Wooyoung back to the lockers and they both sat on a bench. 

Wooyoung sighed, his fingers gripping the bottle as though he could shatter the metallic material. 

“I just want this to end.” At this point, Wooyoung didn’t try to hide his feelings from Jongho. He started not-so-secretly considering him as a friend a long time ago. “We were talking and then someone came to talk to him and they are my classmates and…” 

Wooyoung shrugged. 

“He must have noticed how anxious I was because he asked me to come here to find you both with the excuse that he’s going to the cinema with you,” he said as he looked at Jongho and raised his arm to take another sip. “Sorry. It was too much at once and my classmates are so…”

Yeosang rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, the queen bee and her group?”

“H-hm. They think…” Wooyoung groaned and rubbed his face with his palm. “We had some kind of argument a few weeks ago because of him and now they are convinced that I…”

Instead of Yeosang, the one who crouched down and caressed Wooyoung’s knees was Jongho, his jaw tense as he asked, “Are they bothering you?”

It was that comment that made him cackle. 

Because in his twisted head it was low-key funny.

“They wish. It takes more than a few comments to bother me.” He drank again. “They said I had a crush on San because I defended him when they were talking about him before our class started.”

“You didn’t tell me you did that,” Yeosang commented, his voice softer than before. 

“Because it was nothing.” It wasn’t. “They were being so fucking nasty and they were talking so loud. I was so annoyed.”

“Does San know this?” Jongho asked.

Wooyoung shook his head. “Don’t tell him. It’s not worth it.”

He stood up and drew a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“For real. It’s nothing.” Wooyoung stepped towards the door. “Let’s go. I feel bad leaving him with them.”

*

Messages:

captain sannie [19:03]: 

idk if i made a mistake

j. woo [19:04]: 

what happened?

captain sannie [19:05]: 

earlier at the gym

when u went inside

i said a thing

ithink i shouldnt have

j. woo [19:05]: 

you are scaring me

captain sannie [19:06]: 

dahye insinuated that i was talking to u bc im super nice

like

yk

as if i was making an effort or smht

when shes the one whos a fckn pain in the ass

so

basically

i snapped? lwkey?

i told her i was talking to u bc u are nice too and idk they said smth else

i was so pissed wooyoung

msorry

After the anxiety had worn off, leaving him boneless on his bed, Wooyoung had no energy to overthink. Would that make his classmates think that something was going on between them? Would they treat Wooyoung poorly because San had stated that he liked talking to him?

Who knew.

Messages:

j. woo [19:07]: 

it’s okay san

we don’t have the best relationship

i’m not surprised they said that

thank you for standing up for me

captain sannie [19:07]: 

ur not mad?

j. woo [19:08]: 

no

thankyu

you*

captain sannie [19:08]: 

u okay?

j. woo [19:09]: 

not really

but i’m not mad i promise

captain sannie [19:10]: 

want me to send you pics of my family cat?

my mum sent me more

j. woo [19:11]: 

pleeeeeeease

***

“I think I’m going to ask him to take another walk,” Wooyoung commented to Hongjoong in a quiet tone. 

They were on a long break between classes and after grabbing some snacks and their regular evening decaffeinated coffee, they had gone back to their classroom, where they could happily talk and relax until their professor and the rest of their classmates arrived. 

“That’s cute,” Hongjoong mumbled, his lips on the rim of his disposable cup. “Do you think you will be able to tell him about what happened soon or is that a far future step to take?”

Wooyoung sighed. 

That was a good question.

“I’m not sure. It’s so nerve-wracking to picture myself opening up about that to him, but at the same time I really need to let this go. It’s so confusing.”

Hongjoong pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, drawing his characteristic soft smile. Wooyoung loved knowing that he was one of the few selected people that got to be at the receiving-end of that gesture. 

“Not to be that person and stress you out even more, but have you considered… perhaps… dropping a hint and seeing how it goes?”

Wooyoung took a sip of his coffee, avoiding looking at his friend. 

Hongjoong confessed one night, after they both had drunk too much wine for their own good, that he still regretted how his fears and his lack of communication ended up causing his break-up with his boyfriend while he was completing his first year at medicine school.

He barely mentioned his former partner —he didn’t even use his real name when he talked about him, only his nickname— and, after that night, Wooyoung guessed that the reason was that it still hurt to think about him and about the things he could have done differently. 

“I can’t promise I’ll do that soon.”

Hongjoong bit into his sandwich and Wooyoung appreciated the silence, because he was sure that his friend would love to insist, trying desperately to save Wooyoung from the pain he went through. 

“Sorry for always pressuring you,” Hongjoong murmured, splitting the rest of his sandwich into two pieces and taking another bite. “I’m so sensitive this week.”

Wooyoung poked the back of his friend’s hand as if inviting him to elaborate on that if he was up to it. Like Wooyoung, Hongjoong felt easily cornered and ran out of reach before anyone could stop him, so he preferred to inform him in a gentle way that they could switch topics or talk about what’s on his mind.

Hongjoong shrugged.

“It’s been three years since I got Mars and that always reminds me of my ex. Y’know, same old story: me missing him at random times.”

Wooyoung frowned. 

Random times .

His ex-partner literally gifted him that cat, as far as Wooyoung knew. It was practically impossible not to remember him. And the cat’s name, apparently, was related to his ex’s real name, to make everything even worse. 

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung said in a whisper as he squeezed Hongjoong’s hand once. “Want to go out later so you can distract yourself a bit? We can go to that new restaurant we saw the other day.”

Hongjoong adjusted his glasses again, even if they were perfectly placed already. 

“There’s no need, Woo. You told me you had plans already.”

“Yeah, ordering pizza and binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. That can wait.” 

Wooyoung leaned in and met Hongjoong’s eyes before drawing a smile. 

“Or we can go to your place, order the pizzas anyway and watch a silly movie. I miss lil’ Satan.”

“I wasn’t trying to make the conversation about me,” Hongjoong sighed. Wooyoung was so fond of the way Hongjoong panicked when someone explicitly tried to take care of him. “I’m fine, really.”

“Those are not valid answers to what I said.”

If Hongjoong thought he was stubborn, Wooyoung was worse. Especially in moments like this one. They could talk about San again later. After all, Wooyoung was just sharing his ideas with Hongjoong, nothing else.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Would you respect my answer if I turned you down?”

“Considering how much you try to stop me from getting worried every time you are having some bad days?” Wooyoung pretended to think about it, tapping his chin with his fingers. “No. I don’t think so. So, you tell me, restaurant or pizzas and silly movie?”

Hongjoong took his time drinking from his coffee.

And, thankfully, he gave in. “Mars will be happy to see you.”

“I knew that demon loved me.”

“You earned his love the day you came to my flat with a bag full of wet food.”

Wooyoung laughed and as he was grabbing his cup to take another sip, he recognised the voices approaching their tables. 

Not them again.

“Hi, guys,” Dahye said in a singsong tone as her long blonde hair twirled around her fingers. 

Hongjoong bit into his sandwich, making only a gesture with his head to acknowledge the presence of Dahye and Dallia. Since their first year, it had been pretty obvious that neither Wooyoung nor Hongjoong liked them or their mean group. They’d had some tense discussions on different topics but since Wooyoung had confronted them, they were obsessed . 

Some people were absolutely exhausting; also pathetic. 

Because even if Wooyoung was overwhelmed the other day at the gym, the truth was that it didn’t matter what they said, they couldn’t hurt him. He was above all their comments. His skin grew thicker during his last year of high school and nothing a stranger said had affected him the same ever since. 

It did make him anxious to be part of any gossip but poisoned comments were harmless to him.

“Do you need help finding your table?” Hongjoong teased, his eyes fixated on the screen of his laptop whilst he took another sip. Unbothered.

Wooyoung had to bite his lip to not snort.

“Oh, no,” Dahye made a gesture with her hand. “We came to ask Wooyoung if he already has his San shirt ready for the next match. We would have asked you the other day at the gym but you ran off so fast.”

Wooyoung gulped down the rest of his coffee. “Could you, please, cry somewhere else if it pissed you off so much to find me talking to him while we waited for our friends?”

“That doesn’t piss us off,” Dallia soon explained. “San is too friendly for his own good.”

“See? We can agree sometimes. I’m sure that if he wasn’t so nice, he would have told you already that he can’t stand either of you, nor the way you suck up to him to see if you can become as popular as him.”

Dahye crossed her arms against her chest. “Excuse me. We don’t need anyone to be popular. Maybe you are the one who’s using him for that.”

Hongjoong shrieked. Loudly. 

Wooyoung could only chuckle at his reaction because it was, indeed, funny to see someone thinking that Wooyoung wanted to be the most popular student again . 

He had been there. He didn’t want to go back to that place.

“If you only knew how ridiculous that comment is,” the other medical student said as he finally raised his head up to look at the two girls. “You won’t believe it, but some of us actually have other priorities that don’t involve popularity.”

“Everyone loves a little bit of attention,” Dallia commented, rolling her eyes, as though accusing Hongjoong of lying, before walking with Dahye to their seats when they saw that Hongjoong and Wooyoung were too occupied looking at something on Hongjoong’s laptop to actually talk to them.

“They want to be his friends so badly ,” Hongjoong snickered, opening The Sims 4 to keep playing while they waited for the course to start. 

“And something else,” Wooyoung grunted. “When San would never get close to them, not even if he liked women.”

Hongjoong lowered his voice. “Of course not. He has already found his future doctor. He doesn’t need any more.”

Wooyoung smacked his friend after pointing at the new family Hongjoong had created some days ago to remind him that he hadn’t seen it yet. 

“That was not what I meant.”

“No, but I didn’t lie anyway.”

***

Wooyoung frowned as he highlighted another part of the document he was reading. He had been preparing for this exam for ten days and he couldn’t say the topic was getting any more interesting. Quite the opposite. 

His posture wasn’t the most comfortable to study in; his neck was getting stiff and he was pretty sure that parts of his limbs were getting numb but when San accidentally fell asleep on top of him half an hour ago after training for too long, Wooyoung decided that he preferred to endure the future ache and enjoy how warm San felt against him rather than waking him up.

His leg was between Wooyoung’s, his arm was loosely wrapped around Wooyoung’s waist and his nose was brushing Wooyoung’s neck. His low breathing was like a relaxing pill, the peaceful sound drawing a never-ending smile on Wooyoung’s face. 

Their original plan was to prepare for their future exams together but San had arrived at his flat completely wrecked and had promptly asked Wooyoung if he minded if they moved to bed so he could drown in all his cushions.

At first, he had really fought against his exhaustion —even though Wooyoung saw his eyes struggling to remain open— but he had eventually switched to a position that was a clear sign of defeat. 

Wooyoung let him snuggle up against him as he slid down the headboard of his bed and by the time San had confessed that he was getting sleepy, he could only invite him to take a quick nap. It wasn’t too late for one and he could always wake him up for dinner.

San stirred whilst Wooyoung re-read the page he had just highlighted and Wooyoung’s fingers travelled to his red hair, caressing it in silence. 

A soft hum escaped San’s lips. 

“H-hm, sorry,” he babbled, sounding drowsy and too adorable to resist. 

“What for?” 

San nuzzled against Wooyoung’s neck, the arm around his waist tightening before the captain pressed his lips against the skin. 

“Falling asleep on you when you were trying to study.”

Wooyoung melted . How could he be so sweet right after waking up?

“I’m still studying. I liked being your personal pillow, even if I can’t feel my left leg.”

San laughed, softly, leaving another kiss on the base of Wooyoung’s neck before changing his posture so his weight wasn’t on Wooyoung’s body as much, but still staying very much pressed against him.

“Can I stay like this for another ten minutes?”

Wooyoung’s fingers fell down his neck, tracing circles over the skin, and he nodded.

“Are you still exhausted?”

“Yeah. It’s like I was hit by a truck or something. I pushed myself too much trying to motivate the rest of the team.”

Wooyoung moved his hand down San’s back until it could slip under his t-shirt, tracing the same circles over the expanse of his broad back; taking his time with the movements, relishing in the soft sighs that San let out. 

“Can you rest tomorrow? Your next match is in a week and I already know how much you usually train prior to an important match.”

San’s breath hitched when Wooyoung found a knot in one of his scapulae. 

“I thought I was the one studying physical therapy,” San murmured against Wooyoung’s neck. 

Wooyoung giggled. “I’m stealing your job. Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.” He craned his head and kissed the top of San’s head. “Your silence means no resting tomorrow?”

“My silence means I forgot to answer the question,” he chuckled. “I should go to the gym. I could go easy and catch up on uni stuff in the afternoon.” 

San squirmed when Wooyoung dragged his knuckles down his spine and the latter chuckled.

“Good?”

“You are gonna make me fall asleep again and I need to study, Woo,” San complained as he rubbed his nose against the medical student. “It feels so good.”

If San had lost his battle against his exhaustion earlier, then Wooyoung was losing the war against his feelings when he put his notes aside and dragged San fully on top of him again. His body could whine about how crushed he felt like this any other day. He wasn’t interested. 

“We can stay like this a little while longer.” 

Wooyoung’s fingers started massaging San’s scalp and his tense nape. He might not have the knowledge San had but he could happily deliver a relaxing massage that didn’t fix the knots but helped San feel slightly better. 

“But…” San let out a muffled sound. “I’m retaking another exam next week and I feel that I can nail it this time. I just need to follow the schedule we made together.”

“Is it helping?”

After San realised that making schedules ahead of time actually helped him to not get overwhelmed with all his tasks throughout the day, they both spent days trying to make a very simple one that covered all the important tasks of the day. 

San already had a decent routine, especially thanks to his training sessions and his work-out routines, so they simply added a few more activities to the list. 

“I think so?” 

San raised his head to look at Wooyoung and the medical student smiled, fondly, as he stared back at him —his dishevelled hair on one side of his head, his lidded eyes still heavy with sleep, his sweet pout adorning his lips. 

“I still struggle to do everything but I’m doing more than before so that’s good, I think.” He drew his classic shy smile. The small one that usually hid too many insecurities. “I still can’t believe you did my whole schedule in a few days as if it was nothing. I owe you so much.”

“I’m glad you find my anxious brain useful. It drives me crazy, not gonna lie.”

“It’s a very smart brain, though,” San commented. “Even if sometimes I can’t grasp what’s inside it.”

Wooyoung frowned. “You really don’t want to see what’s inside it, San. It’s awful.”

San licked his lips, likely searching for the right words to say; likely scared of saying the wrong thing and ruining the moment, now that Wooyoung had said something related to all his secrets.

“That’s why you don’t talk about it? Because you think I’ll find you awful afterwards?”

His bluntness caught Wooyoung off guard. His head turned to the side and his teeth sank into his inner cheek.

“It’s not what I think , I know that’s what’s going to happen” He couldn’t help but murmur, wondering when San got so good at reading him when, not so long ago, only Yeosang had mastered the art. 

Gently, instead of turning Wooyoung’s head to force him to look at him, San leaned closer and kissed Wooyoung’s jaw. 

“Nothing you tell me can change how I see you.”

Underneath him, Wooyoung trembled, feeling air getting caught in his throat and fear clawing at him from the inside. He could just blurt it out and prove that it would be impossible for San to look at him with the same eyes. 

Yeosang only did so because he was the human version of his guardian angel.

And Hongjoong and Yeonjun had never got a detailed explanation, just the general idea of everything that happened, even if Hongjoong knew way more things. It wasn’t the same.

“You don’t know that.”

Lips kissing his cheek.

Wooyoung faced San, his voice cracking and his lips threatening to quiver at any given moment. 

“It scares me. And I wish… I’ve tried…” Wooyoung cupped San’s cheeks. “It’s not you. You are just… so good to me. All the time. And I’m… me.”

Slowly, San rolled onto his side and pulled Wooyoung with him so they could stare at each other without leaning all his weight on the medical student. His arm settled around Wooyoung’s waist, keeping him painfully close, and Wooyoung wondered how long it would take him to break down fully.

To let all his horrible secrets out. 

How long until that beautiful melody that only they both could sing turned into hideous noise, because the spell was broken. 

“Some days I’m so sure that Yeosang will open his eyes and realise he’s better off without me.”

What could he offer now anyway? Desperate to be better after everything that happened, Wooyoung had started focusing even more on his grades, practically obsessing over them until they were perfect. Yeosang had to insist on getting him to open up, and many times, he would have to deal with Wooyoung’s sharp comments first. 

“I’m sure Yeosang is wise enough to know what’s best for himself and if he’s keeping you by his side, it must be because you are not so bad after all.”

“Or that we’ve been together f-for too long,” Wooyoung whispered, raising an arm to press his eye and prevent the tears from spilling. “S-sorry. I’m so d-dramatic.”

It would likely destroy him to lose Yeosang, even if Wooyoung thought he deserved it.

San took his wrist and pulled his arm away.

“Has nobody ever told you that you are allowed to cry?” To make things worse, he kissed Wooyoung’s hand. “Come here, angel.”

The new petname was the cocoon Wooyoung didn’t know he needed to open up in a different way; not with words. Not with his past but with the silent tears that still filled his body every time he got close to his wounds.

I love you.

It would have been so selfish to say it in a moment like that.

He removed the little space between them and buried his face in San’s chest, breathing in his warmth and perfume, feeling temporarily safe to show part of his cracks. 

Wooyoung dreamt so many nights about a different life. 

No.

About having a different past.

He dreamt that it didn’t exist and that he didn’t have nightmares anymore. He dreamt that he didn’t feel awful inside his skin and that he could actually trust people without feeling that they would eventually see him with different eyes or that they would confess he was just some funny entertainment.

A freaking game.

A bet.

Wooyoung didn’t sob loudly, he had learnt how to do it in the darkness of his room when nobody could listen. Though his body shuddered regardless whilst San caressed his back and held him as if there wasn’t a single universe where he would let him go. 

He pulled back after several minutes, a tiny smile curling his lips when San’s first reaction was wiping off his tears with his thumb. 

Vulnerability was so dangerous because if you hadn’t secured a certain thought inside of your brain, it happily kicked said thought out of it and threw it into the world, not caring about the consequences. 

Wooyoung was afraid of it, yet San made vulnerability look so safe. 

“Thank you.”

The problem came when the demons joined the mix too and along with the vulnerability materialised the familiar certainty that, eventually, sooner than later, San would notice that beneath all his layers, Wooyoung was far from worth it.

So instead of wasting any more seconds crying, he leaned in until he could slot their lips together in a long kiss that shushed all the clatter in his head. He parted his lips and their tongues met while San pulled him on top of him so he could hold him properly. 

They kissed over and over, only pulling back for a split second to breathe before their lips touched again. They cherished every inch of skin they could reach without removing a single piece of clothing. Their mouths found each other’s cheekbones, jaws and collarbones.

He couldn’t bear any more tears or confessions. He couldn’t stick his hand even deeper into his chest that day. It had been enough. 

But, god, how much he wished he would have been shameless and selfish enough to confess that the only reason why he was so scared was because he was in love with him. 

***

“Fuck!” Yeonjun screamed when, unexpectedly, Yunho scored a goal a few minutes before the additional time. “Fuck, fuck.” He gripped Wooyoung’s arm. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung were so tense that they only cheered and clapped, their eyes following the figures of the different players across the pitch. This match had been so gut-wrenching to watch, considering Mingi got injured in the first half and the other team had been playing in a very aggressive way. 

Wooyoung felt his blood run cold when one of them pushed Jongho to steal the ball and Jongho turned in the player’s direction with eyes that promised a life of misery. He’d had to hold Yeosang back so he didn’t start cursing the entire family of the other player.

He played with his necklace as he waited for the match to end, his Coke completely forgotten next to him and his lips tired of suffering the attack of his teeth. Sadly, he wasn’t wearing the shirt with San’s name on the back —even though San gave it to him and then proceeded to fuck him bent over his desk while Wooyoung was still wearing it—, it had been too much. But he was wearing the team sweater and also the cap. 

San told him he looked like a dream.

Wooyoung hoped he had stopped blushing.

“Don’t grab my boyfriend, you piece of shit!” Yeosang yelled. 

“Eh, eh!” Yeonjun joined him.

Apparently, the goal had only encouraged them to be even more aggressive. 

Could the match end already? Hopefully the referee would agree with them on ending the match as soon as possible to avoid any kind of altercation. It wasn’t remotely normal how it seemed like some players of the other team had no respect for theirs.

“Eight minutes? Are you insane?” Yeonjun hadn’t stopped yelling since he had risen to his feet and Wooyoung’s grip had done nothing to stop Yeosang, who was also reciting a million insults towards the referee. “Go, go, go!”

Wooyoung took his Coke and caught the straw between his teeth, taking long sips whilst time decided to pass excruciatingly slowly. Was the other team playing some kind of twisted game to see who could be more rude? 

A player tackled Soobin and Yeonjun growled like a beast. God. 

“He’s okay,” Wooyoung murmured, even if his voice sounded strained and he was on the verge of a meltdown.

It had to be the first time he had seen Soobin looking furious , to the point that their coach, Jeon Jungkook, asked for a few minutes to calm the team down.

“I swear it’s like they don’t even want to win, they just want to mess with our team.” Wooyoung pulled his cap down. “San told me that they don’t have a good relationship with them after something that happened last year but I wasn’t expecting this.”

Yeonjun slumped onto the chair, rubbing his face with his hands. 

#

“It’s because of Taehyun.”

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows, completely unaware of the issue that had brought them to that dangerous rivalry. 

“He used to be friends with some of the players from DMD. They played football together and blahblah ,” Yeonjun said as he looked at the players, who were still talking to Jungkook. “Then Taehyun joined DJV’s team and the jokes began.”

Yeosang huffed. “Jongho told me once that they had warned Taehyun and told him to not get in the showers with some of the players. Just in case .”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw. He still remembered San confessing to him during their late night walk that he had promised himself that no one would ever feel unsafe in a team —meaning, particularly, queer guys.

It was sad to realise that not all teams had that mentality.

“And, y’know, Taehyun felt very lonely until he joined the team and they are like his family. Soobin is his best friend and he met Gyu thanks to it.”

Wooyoung smiled at the mention of the cheerleader, and also Taehyun’s partner. 

The match resumed. Three minutes.

#

“Taehyun snapped one day and punched one of them,” Yeonjun finished explaining. “It was messy because rules are very strict with players but after a four-week suspension and San and the coach going through a bunch of conversations with the committee, they allowed Taehyun to come back if he behaved.”

“So some of them are now trying to cause a fight on purpose?” Wooyoung hissed.

“Yeah,” Yeosang shook his head. “It fucking sucks.”

“I guess they want to get someone expelled. Taehyun, probably,” Yeonjun said before winking at Soobin when the latter looked at them from his position. “But it’s harder to provoke him because he’s the goalkeeper, he’s not running from one side to the other, so…”

“They are the ones who should get banned from the competition,” Wooyoung stated. “All of this because their ex-teammate joined a team that’s openly queer-friendly? Fuck them.”

“Explain that to the committee,” Yeonjun snorted. 

“It’s over!” Yeosang cheered, jumping on his seat. 

Wooyoung and Yeonjun followed, hugging each other and finally taking a deep breath. Although Wooyoung wouldn’t feel completely relaxed until the whole team was far from the venue, where the other players couldn’t annoy them.

They started walking towards the exit but Wooyoung couldn’t help but look at San, who was still on the field agitatedly talking to the coach. He bet he was discussing with Jungkook everything that had happened during the match, or even something that happened before it.

Jungkook threw his arm over San’s shoulders to give him a hug as they started moving in the direction of the stairs that led to the locker rooms, Wooyoung’s eyes still fixated on them.

“San!” A couple of girls yelled from a few rows above theirs. 

They seemed to be younger than Wooyoung and judging by the way they squealed when San waved at them, he guessed that it had to be one of the best days of their year. Yeosang chuckled as he pushed Wooyoung gently and the latter almost tripped when San took the opportunity to quickly glance at him, the smirk obviously curling his lips —probably because he had caught Wooyoung already looking at him.

***

“Are you coming with us later, Youngie?” Yeosang asked whilst they waited for their team to leave the venue. “Yeonjun and I will go to the bar we went to the other day and a few cheerleaders will join us later. You know, Beomgyu, Felix, Changbin… Nothing new.”

Part of Wooyoung’s journey of leaving his demons behind consisted of accepting that everything that happened during his high school years had made him so reluctant to meet new people and make new friends that, in three years, although he had been hanging out with several people, either from his class or because Yeosang and Yeonjun knew them, he never crossed a certain line.

He never stayed for too long; he barely shared anything about his private life; and more times than he was prepared to talk about, Wooyoung feared that someone would bring up what happened, because, sadly, his story seemed to be everywhere during his last year of high school. 

Or that was how it felt. 

Wooyoung rubbed the back of his head.

“I need to study. If I don’t finish my draft today, I’m going to lose my mind.” Wooyoung drew an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Yeonjun tapped his back. “We’ll drag you next time. It’s been months since the last time you hung out with all of us.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t think they mind.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. They always ask if you are coming and Felix and Changbin keep saying that, maybe, you would feel more comfortable going out with them if we added you to our group chat.”

The unpleasant chills made Wooyoung move his arms. 

That also brought old memories back into his head —screenshots of the secret group chat his new friends had without him so they could talk behind his back. 

He had hated group chats that had more than three people ever since.

But Yeosang and Yeonjun had promised him so many times that he would have fun; that it cost him nothing to give it a chance and leave the chat if he didn’t feel comfortable enough.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you add me,” Wooyoung mumbled.

“I’m keeping your word,” Yeonjun pointed at him before sprinting towards Soobin’s figure, who was walking in their direction with Jongho, Mingi, Yunho and Seonghwa.

Wooyoung would love to be buried alive.

Yeosang stepped closer and squeezed his hand. 

“It’s okay.”

Wooyoung nodded, taking a deep breath. 

It was all in his head. He could talk normally with all of them and nobody would say a thing. People weren’t even paying attention to them, unless it was to congratulate the players. They weren’t even at the venue of their university. 

“Congrats!” Yeosang said after the others reached their position, his head gesturing towards Mingi’s knee. “How are you feeling, Mingles? It looked awful from our seats.”

“It’s nothing. I have an old injury and it always acts up in matches like this.”

“It wouldn’t act up if the other players weren’t pieces of shit,” Seonghwa grunted with his arms folded across his chest. “It could have been something serious again.”

Mingi palmed Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Yeah, but it wasn’t. I need to rest for a few days and I’ll be back on the pitch in a week.”

Nobody had said a thing about San so Wooyoung guessed he must be still talking to Jungkook about the match and about what the other team did.

“Congrats,” Wooyoung murmured. “It was a tough one but you did it.”

“It’s okay. We knew it wouldn’t be easy,” Yunho quickly explained. 

Wooyoung took a step closer to Jongho and the latter raised an eyebrow, as though challenging him to keep going. Shyly, Wooyoung’s arms circled Jongho’s waist and he leaned his head against his shoulder. 

“I had to hold your boyfriend back because he almost went down there to torture the player that pushed you,” he confessed in a whisper whilst Jongho wrapped his arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, welcoming the hug. “You would have loved to see him.”

Jongho drew his adorable gummy smile.

“My hero.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten his face,” Yeosang chimed in. “If I ever see him at a club, I’m going to spill my drink all over him or pretend I’m drunk and step on him or push him or something.”

Wooyoung didn’t need to crane his head to picture the smirk Yeosang was probably sporting while he threatened the other player. 

“Hey, Yeo,” Mingi called whilst Seonghwa gripped his arm as if his life depended on it. 

“Hm?”

“Jongho told us you were going out with some friends. Do you think there’s space for Hwa and his best friend?”

“ Mingi ,” Seonghwa groaned. 

Yeosang looked at Yeonjun. 

“With Minho? Sure. I bet Changbin will be happy to see him,” Yeosang replied. 

“See? Fixed. Now you don’t need to be moping around at home.”

“Mingi, I’m going to disown you.”

“You are welcome.”

Yeosang smiled, softly. “Bad day?”

A sigh.

“More like a bad week,” Seonghwa muttered, tucking some dark strands behind his ear.

Selfishly, although Wooyoung felt bad for Seonghwa, he appreciated the bad week because it had saved him from any of the latter’s glares or comments. Even if Seonghwa was talking as if nothing happened, Wooyoung had met him enough times to notice that his energy was particularly low that day.

He hoped it wasn’t anything serious, though.

“We are going to The Lilac Lab,” Yeosang informed. “I guess we’ll go home, change clothes and meet there. I can text you later.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

Yeonjun threw his arm around Yeosang’s shoulders. 

“Of course not. I bet we can make your bad week a bit better. And, anyway, we don’t need more deserters in our team,” Yeonjun joked, sticking out his tongue and looking at Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung, who was still next to Jongho, rolled his eyes.

“I hope neither of you call me in the future when you need a doctor.”

“Boo!”

“Hey,” a voice said right before San’s hand ruffled Mingi’s hair. “I want you sitting on a chair today. And I’ll be counting your drinks.”

“Yes, captain,” Mingi replied dramatically with a hand against his chest.

San pulled at his cap, his body exuding tension and exhaustion. He didn’t seem excited about their win, quite the opposite. Wooyoung hoped he hadn’t had any more problems with the other team. San always got too involved in anything regarding his DJV teammates.

“Congrats, Sannie.” Seonghwa smiled, stepping closer to give him a quick hug. 

“Yeah, buddy. Congratulations,” Yeonjun repeated. 

“Did you see Beomgyu and Taehyun at the lockers?” Soobin asked, frowning at his phone. 

San nodded. “They told me they would meet us at the bus stop.”

“Let’s go, then?” That was Yunho, who was already circling Mingi’s waist with his arm so he didn’t lean all his weight onto his injured knee. 

The group paced in the direction of the bus stop while they kept talking about their plans for the evening. Wooyoung smiled when he heard Yunho wheezing at a comment Yeonjun made and before he realised it, he was walking side by side with a San, who had been silent since he replied to Soobin’s question. 

Wooyoung tilted his head towards him, his eyebrows knitted at the sight of San’s tense posture.

What the hell had happened outside of the match?

Purposely, Wooyoung let their fingers brush. 

Jongho and Yeosang were walking right behind them so it wasn’t as if anyone could see them and yet, for a few seconds, Wooyoung almost forgot his own fears whilst he tried to make the captain smile.

His pinky caught San’s and the latter looked back at Wooyoung. 

“Hi,” Wooyoung mouthed. 

San’s grin only curled part of his lips. “Hi.”

Their fingers stayed laced until they were almost at the bus stop, even if they kept walking next to each other as if they weren’t acknowledging each other’s presence. Wooyoung didn’t need it, anyway. 

They were having dinner together at his flat so he would have time to talk to San after celebrating the victory with his team. It wasn’t the time to ask him if he was okay or if something else had happened while they were waiting for the bus.

***

Although Yeonjun and Yeosang insisted during the whole bus ride, Wooyoung stayed home after the match to keep preparing for his upcoming exams. It wasn’t final term season yet but he had some assignments to submit and a few tests to take anyway. 

Also, since San was having dinner with him, if he didn’t focus throughout the evening, then he wouldn’t have time.

He would have time to hang out with the whole group another time.

That night he had other plans.

Another step was awaiting him.

After Wooyoung started to reflect on everything they had done in the past, he had realised that in his obsession to control his relationship with San, he had been neglecting himself so much. 

In almost a year, they had only spent the night together a few times, and only if they weren’t sober. They had never showered together, even though they had both been in the same bathroom while one of them was in the bathtub. And there was also the long list of outdoor activities that Wooyoung liked to ignore because thinking about it made him feel even more unworthy than usual. 

Wooyoung had also avoided telling San whenever he was sick because the captain would have tried to camp in his living room until he felt better. And when he pushed himself too much because he had an important assignment to submit, he tried to not worry him, because, again, San would knock on his door in no time to make sure that Wooyoung was, at least, having all his meals.

Why was San putting up with all his bullshit?

He almost regretted taking off the blindfold; now he couldn’t stop seeing things he needed to change and feeling guilty for all the times he had turned San down. 

And the worst of it all was that Wooyoung couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t turn him down again in the future. It was so hard to be completely honest and let himself be free. 

Wooyoung turned off his laptop after revising the draft of his next assignment and opened his wardrobe to grab a clean towel and a change of clothes. San was supposed to message him when he was coming so he still had time for a quick shower to relax after studying non-stop for the past three and a half hours.

The sound of the door startled him while he was undressing himself and San found him in the bathroom with a messy ponytail, wearing only a loose t-shirt and his underwear, with his towel resting on top of the toilet.

“Woo, I’m here!” The bathroom door was still open so San didn’t need to knock, his steps following the sound of the water running. 

Wooyoung crossed his arms against his chest after turning off the faucet.

Had San text him and he had missed the messages?

“Sorry I didn’t text you. Yunho had the amazing idea of drinking too much on an almost empty stomach and I had to take him home first.”

Their eyes met and Wooyoung raised his eyebrows at the sight of San’s clothes —he was wet , and not because it was raining. It was as if someone had decided to throw a bucket of water over his t-shirt and jeans. 

“Don’t ask questions. When I tried to help Yunho take a shower, he had the second amazing idea of the day and pointed the shower head at me while I was waiting for it to get warm,” San sighed. “And before that, at the bar, Mingyu accidentally spilled some of his beer all over me.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened and he walked towards him, pulling at San’s t-shirt.

It was also incredibly easy to not think when it was just them and he wasn’t talking about high school. How long had he been dreaming about this without noticing it?

“You arrived just on time for the shower,” Wooyoung muttered, biting his lip. 

San caressed Wooyoung’s wrist, managing to, somehow, not look surprised. 

“Let me…” He swallowed. “Let me grab my clean clothes from my football bag.”

“Can you hug me first? You deserve a big one after today’s match.”

“I’m gross, Wooyoung,” San groaned, yet he didn’t offer any kind of resistance when Wooyoung leaned onto the tip of his bare toes to circle his shoulders and pull him in until he could hold him against his chest. 

San laughed and promptly wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s body. 

#

“I had to stop a fight after the match,” he confessed against Wooyoung’s hair. 

“That’s why you joined us so late?”

How could some people be so obsessed, to the point of causing fights on purpose? 

He was still horrified.

San nodded, a loud sigh escaping his lips. 

“Their captain is a prick but also the coach’s nephew so… They have had problems with other teams too, for other reasons, but they have gone so far with all of this.”

Wooyoung caressed San’s nape. “What happened? Yeonjun told me a little bit about last year, with Taehyun and all of that.”

San leaned his forehead on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

He had to be so drained after such an intense day.

“Well. Instead of learning something from that time when Taehyun hit one of them, Tae’s ex-friends decided to get some shitty revenge or whatever game they were playing.” San’s body began tensing again and Wooyoung emitted a soft sound whilst he kept going with the caresses. “One of them came before the match to talk to him and said something about Beomgyu. He…” 

“You don’t have to tell me, San.”

“I think I’ll feel better if I say it because when I heard him I had to be a good captain but I swear I would have loved to make him a new face with my fists.”

Wooyoung chuckled. “Always ready to fight for your guys.”

“I just want them to be safe,” San mumbled before resuming the explanation, this time slightly more relaxed. “Anyway. This dude basically… God, it was so fucking awful. But he said that it must be easy to pretend that Beomgyu is a girl with his tight shorts and his long hair. That he lowkey got it now.”

“What.”

San shrugged. “Jongho and I invited him to leave our locker room but we knew that the match wasn’t going to be easy.” 

Slowly, he pulled back to stare at Wooyoung and Wooyoung frowned at San’s hurt expression. At how tired and angry he looked. 

“Apparently, Beomgyu noticed that something was going on and talked to Taehyun during half time.”

“Yeonjun has told me how scary he is when he’s really pissed.”

“You can’t imagine.” San laughed. “I was talking to the coach, you saw me, so when I got to the locker room I found… a mess. Beomgyu was cursing the shit out of that guy while the captain teased Taehyun to see if he snapped again.”

His heart sank. He needed to send Yeonjun a message to ask him how his friends were doing. 

Or he could even message Beomgyu. They had exchanged phone numbers some months ago.

“Luckily, Chan and Jeongin were there too and once I arrived it wasn’t that hard to separate them but they still had the guts to ask me if I was proud of the team of…”

San clenched his jaw and poked his cheek with his tongue.

“They asked me if I was proud of the team of fags I had.”

An ironic cackle left his mouth afterwards and Wooyoung stayed silent whilst his hands framed San’s face, trying desperately to stop him from clenching his jaw so harshly.

“It’s like the price to make the team so safe was becoming the target of all these pieces of shit and I hate it. Other teams have been so supportive and we barely have any problems but…”

“But it sucks when something happens because you remember that not everyone is that nice.”

San nodded, absently. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to cheer everyone up during the celebration and ignore what happened but it was eating me up. Taehyun feels like all of this is his fault and Mingi got injured because of them and the coach doesn’t even think we can do shit about it.”

#

“We are taking a bath.”

San scrunched up his nose and Wooyoung grinned. 

“I said that we are taking a bath. And I’m going to cook whatever you want and I’m also going to cuddle the fuck out of you while we watch TikToks.”

A very small, sweet and shy smile conquered San’s lips. 

“That’s so… That’s…” San stuttered for a second.

Romantic , Wooyoung’s brain supplied. 

“What you deserve,” he replied, giving San a peck and pretending like they both weren’t thinking about the same freaking word. 

Because that was exactly how it sounded.

*

“You really are trying to steal my job,” San joked, slotted between Wooyoung’s legs and visibly losing all the layers of stress and tension that had been choking him the more Wooyoung caressed his sore muscles. “Have you ever considered switching degrees?”

They were talking in whispers, the bathroom filled only with the soft sound of their voices, the water and the silence. Wooyoung was addicted to showering while listening to music but after San asked him to skip his playlist for once, he was slowly realising that taking a long bath in San’s company with no background sounds felt too familiar to be something they had never done before.

It felt as intimate as the night they had held hands while walking back to his building.

It made him face the depth of his feelings. 

Wooyoung giggled, his fingers tracing lines over San’s abdomen; his lips pressed on his shoulder.

“Are you feeling better?”

Loving San was like slipping under a thick duvet in the middle of winter —comforting. Warm. Certainly not necessary to survive, but nothing could compete with it. 

Loving San was a trap, too, because when Wooyoung thought that he couldn’t sink deeper, his feet buried a little bit further, until the pool was covering his chest and Wooyoung only wished to drown in it. 

Just like he had drowned the day he opened his eyes and found the huge elephant in the room waiting to be addressed. 

“Yeah,” San murmured while Wooyoung brushed the ring adorning his index finger. “I was feeling like shit when I got here.”

Wooyoung left a trail of kisses up his shoulder, San shuddering within his arms. 

“You are always taking care of the others and who’s gonna take care of you, hm?” 

San rested the side of his head against the wall so he could expose his shoulder and neck properly. 

“I’m their captain. I don’t want them to see me angry or sad. Not like this.”

Wooyoung’s hand slid down his abdomen, moving past his crotch and finding one of San’s thighs. He continued with his caresses and smirked against San’s jaw when the captain whimpered after he pressed a certain spot on his leg. 

“But not you.”

Wooyoung hummed, his lips still against San’s damp skin. 

“I don’t need to hide anything from you,” San explained. 

Wooyoung couldn’t say the same, even though he had never hidden how he felt. It didn’t matter if San didn’t know the reasons, Wooyoung was transparent. If he was anxious, he said it. If he was mad, he said it. If he had no energy to leave the couch, he said it too. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” he ended up replying. 

To be honest.

To have someone they could rely on like this .

To let the walls down because they wouldn’t hurt each other.

“I like it.” 

Wooyoung nuzzled against San’s neck. “What part?”

“All of this.”

San tilted his head in his direction, his body also turning ever so slightly so he could look at him without straining his neck. 

“Y’know, you offering to take a long bath with me, cook dinner for me and cuddle me because I wasn’t feeling good. I like that.”

Wooyoung was going to be so heartbroken if San never looked at him with starry eyes again after he told him the truth. His throat closed for a moment, his hand climbed up his leg and pressed flat against San’s stomach to remind himself that it hadn’t happened yet. 

He could stretch this newfound paradise a little more. 

Just in case San couldn’t bear with him anymore.

“I’ll have to do it more, then.” 

His gaze dropped to San’s lips. 

“Do you also think that it’s been too long since I last kissed you?” Wooyoung blurted out.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered closed was San’s smile inching closer until their mouths collided and they forgot not only the world but also the reason why their bath was taking so long that the water wasn’t warm anymore. 

*

“They have grown so much,” Wooyoung commented, snuggled up against San while they both watched a TikTok of a cat litter. 

The family that was fostering them posted daily videos of the litter and even did photoshoots of all the cats from time to time but, contrary to San, Wooyoung hadn’t followed the account yet. Though San sent him so many of their videos that it was as if he was a follower too. 

When Yeosang had begged him to get TikTok, promising him that it wasn’t the same as Instagram or Twitter, and that it would be easy to just consume videos and not get involved and obsessed again, Wooyoung hadn’t been very convinced. 

However, half a year later, he had to admit that he had fun with it and that the effect it had on him was nothing like the effect that Instagram and Twitter used to have.

“You should follow the account,” San said for the nth time in two months. “You are missing out on the daily vids’. And they are so cute .”

“You send me the best ones.” Wooyoung paused the video when the biggest cat of the litter showed up. He looked huge to be only seven weeks old and was also the one who resembled their father, a siamese cat, the most. “This one is you.”

“Are you calling me chonky ?”

“Look at it!” Wooyoung pointed at the screen. “In all the videos you’ve sent me, he’s super active, trying to play with his siblings, he loves to be petted and always falls asleep on anyone’s laps. It’s you!”

San pouted as he tilted his head in Wooyoung’s direction. 

“I don’t fall asleep that easily.”

“No, but you sure passed out pretty fast cuddling me the other day while I was studying. Also, look at his sharp eyes. It’s so you. Really.”

“I was exhausted that day. It doesn’t count.”

“That’s your excuse today too?” Wooyoung teased, because one of San’s arms was perfectly wrapped around his body, as if making sure that there was no space between them. 

San was still pouting. “Not funny. You promised you were going to cuddle me.”

Wooyoung stretched his neck and kissed the adorable pout before letting out one of his characteristic shrieks. 

“Why are you getting so moody over a cat? It’s cute.”

San sighed and only then did Wooyoung realise that he wasn’t completely relaxed. It was as if the tension refused to fully abandon his body that night. 

“Sorry. I feel like today has beaten my ass and I can’t seem to unwind.”

“I need to improve my massages,” Wooyoung mumbled.

San laughed, his phone dropping to his chest. 

The room was illuminated by the fairy lights that covered the entire ceiling. Wooyoung bought them a long time ago because they helped with his anxiety and, apparently, they also calmed San down when he was feeling too overwhelmed, so it was like a double win to lay down in his bed and turn them on. 

In fact, the captain liked them so much that he had bought his own fairy lights for his bedroom, though he set them up on the wall closest to his bed and he had picked ones whose colour could change, whereas Wooyoung’s had the typical warm white light. 

They set the mood perfectly before going to sleep. 

“Wooyoung,” San whispered after a couple of minutes in silence.

He tilted his head up again, his eyes searching San’s. 

“Can I… stay?”

Wooyoung blinked. His heart did a somersault. His fingers unconsciously gripped San’s t-shirt. 

It was silly to feel so surprised considering he was going to invite him to spend the night with him anyway, but neither of them had ever asked the question seriously in almost a year. Perhaps, San had joked about it more than Wooyoung, but it was the first time that, sober, one of them had really suggested it.

Wooyoung was drowning in his famous pool again tonight.

And San was already waiting for him at the bottom of it. 

He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t like Wooyoung as much as Wooyoung liked him, right?

Yeosang and Hongjoong weren’t lying when they said that San was head over heels and his immense patience was only one little proof of it…, right?

“Y-yes.” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Yes. Stay.”

I don’t want you sleeping by yourself tonight.

I’ve been wanting to ask you for weeks.

Wooyoung was aware of the way San usually held himself back for him so, hopefully, this meant that his own bravery and his little steps were encouraging San to be more vocal about what he wanted too. 

It would make him happy to know that San didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells around him anymore. 

“Are you going to…” San trailed off and Wooyoung moved even closer.

“Snore?” 

Giggles. 

“I was going to say ‘hold me’ but it sounded cheesy.”

“You want to be the little spoon?” Wooyoung raised his eyebrows, delighted with the information and also relieved because he did want to hold him against his chest after everything that had happened with the other team and the effort he had put into cheering the rest of his teammates up. 

San hummed as his hand slid up Wooyoung’s figure until it reached his nape, bringing Wooyoung closer until he could kiss his jaw.

Since when were the sweet kisses their new normal? 

“I’ll try to deliver a perfect performance of such an important task,” Wooyoung deadpanned. 

San snorted, kissing Wooyoung’s neck. 

“We could also…” It was hard to focus with San’s lips pressing incessantly against his throat. “Study together in the morning?”

His eyelashes trembled when San found his collarbones.

“I would appreciate it if you could help me eat all my leftovers for lunch…”

San manhandled Wooyoung’s body until he was completely on top of him and kissed the other side of his neck.

“Sure,” he mumbled, though Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he was still paying attention.

“Is this how you usually kiss goodnight?” Wooyoung wondered, melted in San’s embrace, feeling the goosebumps travelling down his spine and making his soul tingle. 

He squirmed, giggling, whilst San brushed his skin with his nose.

“Sleep at my place next time and find it out.”

Wooyoung withdrew, one of his eyebrows perfectly arched over his eye and a smirk hanging from his lips. 

“That was smooth.”

San switched their positions and hovered above him. His tongue ran over his own lips and Wooyoung saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. San’s eyes wandered his face, as though Wooyoung was a painting he had just encountered in the middle of nowhere; or as though he was making sure that he hadn’t forgotten any detail.

Wooyoung smiled. 

He could get used to this type of attention.

“What’s up?”

“I really want you to sleep at my place soon.”

It was impossible to guess at which moment the conversation had gone from light-hearted to serious but Wooyoung could tell that there was something else that San was trying to convey. He could see it in the lines that crossed his forehead and he could also hear it in the comfortable silence that surrounded them.

“When?”

San tilted his head to the side and Wooyoung poked his cheek to invite him to look at him again but the captain avoided his gaze for too many seconds to be just a mere conversation about spending the night together again.

“Big boy gets shy setting a date because the princess is staying the night?”

The question flowed out of his mouth so naturally that Wooyoung had no time to process what he was saying before the words were out in the world, making not only himself but also San widen their eyes. 

“It’s not that,” said almost through his teeth. “It’s silly .”

“You are making me curious!”

“Wooyoung, it’s silly . Can’t you just forget it?”

His palms framed San’s face, his voice sweetening when he said:

“But I want to know.”

In all fairness, he should have seen it coming —it was the beginning of November and what used to only be the month of his birthday, now was something else. Wooyoung pretended he didn’t remember it but he could even describe the clothes he was wearing that first night. 

“It’s going to be a year since Jongho and Yeosang ditched us while we were in your living room.”

He really should have seen it coming. 

San was a man of little details, of course he would remember the date they first kissed. And of course he would bring it up as if people like them, who had never labelled their relationship, celebrated their first night together. 

He fell into the trap of San’s eyes yet another time whilst he suddenly processed that if they were dating, that date would be their anniversary. 

Was that why San wanted to talk about it, because he thought so too?

Did he dream about Wooyoung loving him back too?

“You didn’t remember it,” San murmured, his lips curling downward lightly. 

Wooyoung shook his head. 

“I was thinking that I don’t want to wait thirteen days to sleep with you again,” he lied, or he didn’t. Because after sleeping with San tonight, he was positive that he wouldn’t want to wait for so long to do it again. 

“ Oh .” San laughed. No. He cackled. He bent down and leaned his forehead against Wooyoung whilst he laughed some more. 

As if it was funny. 

As if it was remotely okay to spend a whole year like they had. 

Wooyoung could taste the guilt crawling up his throat again. The sensation was getting more and more familiar every day. 

“Good.” San nodded, or he tried because his forehead was still pressed against Wooyoung’s. “You remembered. That’s… Huh. Nice.”

Wooyoung beamed. 

Despite how much he already loved San, Wooyoung kept finding reasons to make room for more. What would he do when his body became too small to store it all? 

“My birthday is coming up too.”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me anything again.”

Wooyoung snorted and his hands flew to his own face, hiding behind his palms.

“I already apologised for that. We had only been talking for a few days and I didn’t think it was important.”

A year prior, Yeosang had organised a small dinner to celebrate Wooyoung’s birthday since Wooyoung had been so stressed with some assignments that he had forgotten about it completely until it was the morning of his birthday. 

It was them two, Yeonjun and Hongjoong. Though Jongho had joined them after dinner to give him a present.

And that was how San had got the news —because of Jongho. 

Wooyoung still smiled remembering the bunch of  messages from San he had found right before going to bed. He had been so embarrassed because he had been sending him texts here and there that day but hadn’t said a thing about his birthday. 

That was probably the first time Wooyoung had thought that Choi San was too soft underneath his toned body. 

Wooyoung slid their lips together.

“Don’t pout.”

San kissed him back.

“I’ll be the first one to wish you a happy birthday this year to make up for the last.”

Lips touching again.

“Do you think you can beat Yeosang?”

San smiled against his mouth. “You’ll see.”

Instead of teasing him, Wooyoung tilted his head to deepen the kiss and promised himself that he would find a way to talk everything out the night of their theoretical anniversary. And hopefully, by the time his birthday showed up, San really would be the first one to message him because the only thing that would have changed between them would be that his feelings and secrets wouldn’t be locked away anymore.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“I want to reconcile the violence in your heart.
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask.
I want to exorcise the demons from your past.
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.”

Wooyoung was a light sleeper —waking up a few times throughout the night was his norm.

That didn’t change just because he was sharing the bed with San but every time he had opened his eyes in the middle of the night and had found the captain peacefully sleeping next to him, Wooyoung had jumped back into dreamland with a faint smile on his lips. 

The sun filtered through his orange curtains the third time he woke up, the beautiful light of dawn made his room look way more cosy than it actually was and when he delicately raised his head to look at San, he cursed himself internally for missing this view, purposely, for such a long time.

“Whatcha’ looking at?” San mumbled, not moving an inch and keeping his eyes closed.

Wooyoung plopped down again, snuggling up against San’s back and securing his arm around his slim waist. His nose brushed San’s nape and Wooyoung didn’t let himself think too much when he pressed a sweet kiss on San’s shoulder.

“Morning, captain.”

San sighed at the touch of Wooyoung’s warm lips against his neck.

“G’morning, princess.”

Wooyoung’s duvet was so thick that before going to sleep, he had got rid of his sweatpants and San had only kept his underwear on, but for once, Wooyoung wished he had removed his own t-shirt too because there wasn’t anything he craved more than feeling San’s bare skin against his own.

It felt heavenly to hold him like this.

“Did you sleep well?” Wooyoung asked, softly, whilst his fingers trailed San’s figure, falling down his firm chest, tracing his abdomen and following the waistband of his boxers. 

“Hh-hm. I literally just woke up.” San laced their fingers together against his lower stomach. “You are so warm.”

Wooyoung kissed San’s shoulder again. 

“You are so warm too and you barely move.” He couldn’t stop kissing his pretty skin. “I was scared of waking you up in the middle of the night.”

“You didn’t.”

San pulled at Wooyoung’s arm to bring him even closer and the movement made Wooyoung’s lower body merge against San’s back, his morning half-hard cock rubbing against the captain’s ass and making Wooyoung let out a hoarse moan into San’s ear. 

Silence.

Wooyoung wasn’t going to address the state in which he had woken up and was hoping that since he wasn’t fully hard, his body would relax in a few minutes, but when San threw his ass back and ground his hips against his length, Wooyoung forgot about his previous intention. 

Almost a year later, it still surprised him how easily San could get him all riled up.

“Sannie,” Wooyoung warned in a strained voice.

San guided their intertwined hands between his legs and Wooyoung’s breath hitched when his palm cupped San’s throbbing cock. 

God.

“I’m so sensitive in the morning and you didn’t stop touching me,” San murmured as he let go of Wooyoung’s hand to reach back and grip Wooyoung’s thigh, keeping him right where he was as he rolled his hips again. 

Wooyoung dragged his hand along San’s shaft and grabbed the base through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a choked-up whimper that went straight to Wooyoung’s guts. 

His forehead found San’s shoulder.

“You are so hot when you are needy,” Wooyoung confessed, meeting San’s movements and rutting against him like an animal.

At the beginning of their relationship, Wooyoung had wanted San in a raw, carnal way. He had been obsessed with San’s small hands pinning him against the wall whilst he snapped his hips against him; he had dreamt about his husky voice saying his name while Wooyoung had his lips wrapped around him; and he had touched himself alone in his bedroom while his mind replayed the sensation of San mouthing down his throat. 

It had been so intense that, at times, it felt like he was sick.

Now, what Wooyoung felt went beyond that —his visceral attraction wasn’t about how attractive San was nor about how insane their chemistry was, it was about the shared moment; it was the intimacy of waking up with dishevelled hair and puffy eyes and thinking that the Goddess of Beauty should feel ashamed of herself for not being able to compete with San’s sleepy face.

It was also the knowledge they had acquired after undressing each other time after time about which keys to press to make the other arch his back.

And most importantly, it was Wooyoung burying confessions under San’s skin with every kiss, with every caress, with every glance. 

He needed to love him in unspoken ways.

He needed him to know .

And to never forget it.

San lolled his head back, whining whilst Wooyoung kept stroking his clothed length, and the latter chuckled against his neck.

“I want to ruin you.”

It was a promise and just in case San thought he wasn’t serious, Wooyoung’s teeth sank into his shoulder deeper than usual, still leaving no mark but harsh enough to make the captain squirm and moan in his hold. 

San had never minded if Wooyoung left hickeys behind but since Wooyoung himself always asked San to not leave a single trace of his kisses and love bites, he thought it was only fair that he did the same.

Nevertheless, that morning, with all his feelings rattling inside their cage to break free and desperate to prove to him that all of this was real, Wooyoung wondered…

If San left his signature where nobody could see it…

“Can I…?” Wooyoung licked his lips as his hand slipped under the fabric of San’s boxers. “Can I mark you up?” 

San’s nails sank into the flesh of Wooyoung’s thigh.

“Fuck, I didn’t know…” San mumbled. “I thought you would never…” 

“I’ll suck on your shoulder, your chest and your waist if you let me,” Wooyoung added. His voice was laced with a strange sense of possessiveness, though not in the usual toxic way that was portrayed in the media and that he had seen around. He really needed San to remember that morning. “I want you to forget about them until you take your clothes off.”

San chuckled, almost in disbelief, as if waiting for Wooyoung to say that it was a joke. 

Wooyoung swayed his hips just right against San, his inhibitions nowhere to be found as he dragged his tongue up the captain’s neck.

“And if your teammates see them, they will get why you left so early yesterday.”

“Your fucking mouth,” San cursed in a moan when Wooyoung slid his cock against his ass. 

“I’m just getting started.” Wooyoung took the fabric of San’s underwear between his fingers and pulled at it to drag it down San’s legs. “I’m so obsessed with you, San.”

Being vocal in bed with San wasn’t new, but putting part of his feelings into words while he was rutting against him definitely was something that he should have done sooner, especially if San was going to be so receptive. 

So lost and, at the same time, so willing to follow Wooyoung down this rabbit hole.

If they were meant to drown together, shouldn’t they enjoy the journey together, breathing from each other’s mouths until their lungs were filled with praises and promises instead of air? 

“You drive me crazy,” San confessed. “You can do whatever you want to me, I don’t care. I know you’ll make it so good.”

Instead of feeling delirious, or even drunk in the power San had put in his hands, Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat and he manhandled San until he was on his back, naked and so damn gorgeous that it would have been a crime not to kiss his rosy lips.

“What if I want you to mark me back?” Wooyoung said against San’s mouth. “What if I want you to kiss me until you can’t even say my name?”

San grabbed Wooyoung’s t-shirt and tossed it aside carelessly, his palms falling down Wooyoung’s vertebrae to pull his underwear away too. 

“What if…” Wooyoung sighed when his bare length dragged along San’s thigh. “What if I want you to lie on your stomach and let me make you feel good?”

San’s chest heaved as their lips danced together again. 

“Would you let me fuck you, too?” Wooyoung wondered out loud in the spur of the moment, his brain-to-mouth filter nowhere to be found as he sought some relief by rolling his hips against San’s leg. 

How could it be possible to feel so present and yet so out of control?

San’s hand framed Wooyoung’s cheek, his thumb tracing his lips.

“Do you want to?”

San had sat on his cock a few times in the past, showing off his inhuman stamina whilst he rode Wooyoung as if he hadn’t had any other purpose in his life, though they both knew that Wooyoung wasn’t a fan of it.

Or better said, his freaking anxiety never let him savour the moment — you aren’t made for this , you are not good at fucking anyone , you are embarrassing yourself —. His painful obsession with making everything perfect had held him back so many times, despite all the times San had promised him that they could try, that he would love it, that he just needed to have him inside.

Was he losing his mind for wanting everything all at once that morning?

Was he too greedy for asking and asking and asking without any ounce of shame?

“You were the one rubbing your ass against my dick,” Wooyoung replied, because that answer was easier than explaining his complex train of thought. 

San licked Wooyoung’s collarbones, alternating kisses with the touch of his tongue. 

“I love when you tell me what you want,” San admitted. “I had to ask you all the time at the beginning and now…” San rolled his eyes when Wooyoung pressed his knee against his cock. “ Ah, fuck . Now you can’t seem to stop. So fucking hot.”

Wooyoung smiled, kissing down San’s throat. 

“It’s your fault, captain.” Kisses along San’s collarbones. “You made me feel safe enough to speak my mind.” Tongue swirling around San’s nipple. “Though you are wrong,” he commented after sucking on the bud. “It’s not that I can’t stop; it’s just that I can’t get enough of you.”

“I’m gonna cum so fast if you keep talking like that.”

“That won’t stop me,” Wooyoung warned, devilish, kissing down his navel. 

He crawled towards his nightstand and threw a condom and the lube onto the mattress, going back to San’s body in no time. He made room for himself between San’s legs and kneaded one of his thighs whilst he left a path of wet kisses along its expanse. 

He sucked on the tan skin and smirked when he saw the purple flower blooming after his kiss. He moved to San’s other thigh and repeated the action, soothing the area with his tongue after sucking on it. 

His thumb caressed the mark and San whimpered.

“Roll onto your stomach before I have your thighs for breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Wooyoung nosed up his leg, his lips ignoring San’s shaft and leaving another mark right on his hip bone before licking his stomach whilst he uncapped the bottle of lube and poured some on his hand. 

“Please?” Wooyoung warmed it up between his fingers. “Wanna taste you.”

“Didn’t know you were such a demon in the morning.”

San rolled onto his stomach and Wooyoung dived into his body again.

“I didn’t know it either.”

One of his hands spread San’s cheeks and the other circled his rim while his lips kissed the small of his back. He bit into the tender flesh and sucked San’s rim into his mouth before lapping at it with his tongue. 

San squirmed and Wooyoung raised his head for a second, grinning to himself when he saw the captain gripping the pillow with eyes closed and parted lips. 

After making a mess of lube and spit, Wooyoung finally thrust inside with his tongue, teasing the fluttering skin with his finger and slowly pushing it inside.

“So fucking good,” San writhed, spreading his legs even further.

Wooyoung grabbed his buttock harsher, relishing in San’s responsive body and how loud he was when Wooyoung’s mouth was on him. He could spend the rest of the morning tearing San apart with his tongue, even if that meant not feeling his own mouth for hours. 

It was delirious to have all of San to take.

It was like Wooyoung couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next.

Eventually, he added another finger alongside the previous one while his tongue kept thrusting inside and his lips sucked around him. San’s moans echoed against the walls and Wooyoung licked his own lips before changing the direction of his kisses. 

His fingers didn’t stop, though, sinking into San’s heat while his mouth climbed up his back until it found his shoulder. The same shoulder he promised himself he would bite and mark. 

And so he did.

“Lemme kiss you, princess,” San pleaded. 

The position wasn’t the most comfortable as San leaned onto his arm and turned his body enough to reach Wooyoung’s lips, but neither of them seemed to care, too caught in the moment and the completely different atmosphere that surrounded them this time.

Between kisses and bites, San turned around again and before Wooyoung could stop him, he coated his fingers with lube and wrapped them around Wooyoung’s length. 

“Can’t wait to have you inside. You feel so good already.” 

San sounded so keen; so devastatingly gone.  

Three fingers in, Wooyoung fucked into San’s fist almost involuntarily, swallowing up his moans just to be able to kiss him again, their lips spit-coated and swollen after who knew how long. 

“Can we do it laying on our sides?” Wooyoung asked in a thin voice as his fears showed up to join the game too. 

The last time San had ridden him, a couple of months ago, Wooyoung had finally gathered up the courage to confess that he was hesitant about topping because he didn’t want to do it wrong , that he was scared of messing up, and San had replied that he couldn’t do anything wrong as long as they were both honest with each other.

That they would have fun anyway.

Wooyoung blushed remembering the amount of filthy promises San had made afterwards. 

Not so many weeks later, Wooyoung bumped into the depth of his feelings for San and forgot about the entire conversation.

Until that damn morning.

“I want to hold you,” he explained, shyly. 

Judging by his voice, nobody would guess that he was fingering San or that San had him in his hand, but Wooyoung wasn’t sure he could talk any louder. It was a miracle he had even found his voice.

San’s free hand caressed Wooyoung’s cheek before they kissed again. 

“I can top if you want. Or we can keep touching each other and that’s it.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I want to do it. But I really want to hold you against me too.”

San nodded before giving him what tasted like a sealing kiss.

And when Wooyoung thought San was removing his fingers to ask him to finally grind against him, the captain decided to surprise him by grabbing his body to throw him onto the mattress. 

Gasping was his first reaction and Wooyoung couldn’t help but whimper right after when he saw San’s blown-out pupils staring back at him. 

“I thought you asked me to mark you back.”

Wooyoung shivered .

“Who’s the demon now?”

San bit his lip, not containing his mischievous grin. 

“Where can I…?”

“Where do you want to?”

San didn’t hesitate before brushing Wooyoung’s nipple with his fingertips, then his navel and also his hip. “Where only you can see it.”

Wooyoung’s fingers buried themselves in San’s red strands. 

“What are you waiting for, then? I’m all yours.”

San stared at him in silence after the words escaped his mouth so effortlessly, as though they had been waiting to be out in the world for decades. Wooyoung couldn't even feel guilty. The confessions were getting harder to keep inside.

“You shouldn’t have said that.”

And he painted a whole freaking map of constellations all over him. 

There weren’t even that many hickeys, but San covered his skin with kisses so reverently that it was as if he was dressing him instead of leaving a garden behind him. There were petals beside his left nipple, below his right one, near his navel and dangerously close to his cock. 

“Gorgeous,” San praised as he pulled back to stare at his masterpiece, Wooyoung flushed against the mattress, staring at him with lidded eyes and feeling feverish.

If San didn’t come closer again, Wooyoung felt like he would scream .

He sat up, with San still between his legs, and threw his arms around the captain’s shoulders to devour his mouth one more time.

“I’m going to dream about you covered in hickeys even when I’m awake,” San muttered whilst Wooyoung reached behind him to run his finger over his rim again.

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do with those dreams ?” 

His other hand took the lube and poured more along his crack. 

He didn’t want to imagine the state of his bedsheets. 

San shifted closer and rode Wooyoung’s fingers as he held onto his shoulders. 

“I should send you a voice note next time.”

Wooyoung bit San’s lip. “While you jerk off thinking about me?”

San’s eyes fluttered closed when Wooyoung added a third finger.

“H-hm. So you can see… what you do to me.”

Fuck .

Wooyoung’s guts twisted and his cock throbbed. 

“Lie down.”

San resisted for a few seconds, kissing him again while his arm palmed the bed to find the condom. He rolled it down Wooyoung’s shaft and didn’t ask for permission before coating him with even more lube.

They both moved onto the position they had woken up in and Wooyoung teased San with the tip, not pushing inside yet. His lips left a kiss over the hickey he’d left on San’s shoulder.

“What if I don’t last?” Wooyoung whispered.

What if after all the foreplay, I disappoint you?

“You have hands and a pretty mouth.”

San spread his cheeks with one of his hands. 

“Don’t think and fuck me, princess.”

So Wooyoung obeyed and rolled his hips forward.

A low grunt hit San’s nape when their pelvises met and his hand snaked around San’s figure until his palm was pressed over his stomach.

San cursed.

“Good?” Wooyoung whispered.

“So good,” San said, surprisingly soft. “You can move.”

And their secret melody began, their voices mixing whilst Wooyoung pistoned his hips. His feelings so loud inside his room that Wooyoung hoped San could hear them too. The incessant reminder that sex wasn’t about the climax anymore resonating inside his chest as he moaned San’s name. 

San intertwined their fingers above his abdomen and Wooyoung had to bite his tongue to not murmur sweet nothings into his ear. 

Their laced hands closed around San’s shaft and Wooyoung thought he was going to come when the captain let out a high-pitched moan after thrusting into their fist. His movements got sloppier and his teeth added another hickey to the collection as they found San’s shoulder again.

Wooyoung barely heard San warning him before he was spilling over his fingers, the bed and his stomach. He stopped and San whined, clumsily grinding against him.

“Cum inside. Please.”

He said it in a way that made Wooyoung forget he was wearing a condom. 

And he did come after a few more thrusts, his voice breaking whilst his lips were pressed against San’s nape. 

Their heavy breathing replaced their moans and what seconds ago were desperate kisses soon turned into sweet pecks all over San’s shoulder. 

San caressed his knuckles. “You okay?” 

“More than okay.”

***

“Do you want scrambled eggs with kimchi and rice?” Wooyoung asked when San left the bathroom after taking a quick shower.

Too comfortable to question his decisions, he had picked San’s player shirt from his wardrobe and some loose sweatpants, so San’s first answer was pinning him against the kitchen counter and kissing his neck. 

“Warn a man,” he murmured, staring over Wooyoung’s shoulder at the huge kimchi container that Wooyoung had set on the counter. “Want me to cook the rice?”

“You monsters ,” Yeosang groaned, dramatically, as the door of his bedroom was kicked open. “You’ve traumatised my boyfriend.”

“I said surprised ,” Jongho’s calm voice said from the bedroom before his head peeked around the door. “I didn’t know San was sleeping here.”

Although Jongho and Yeosang were the ones who had seen them together more than anyone else, it was still quite new to see them so openly affectionate at freaking eleven in the morning while cooking their breakfast.

Usually, it was some cuddles, some shy pecks and perhaps a few longer kisses, not the full domestic pack.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Wooyoung replied with raised eyebrows.

“Believe me, I wish I wasn’t,” Yeosang kept dramatising, leaning against Jongho’s chest as he shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to forget the rollercoaster you’ve put me through.”

Jongho chuckled. “We left to grab breakfast and came back while you were in the bathroom.”

“Babe, you are not helping.”

San opened the cabinet where they stored the rice and drew a small smile.

“Sorry?” He looked at Wooyoung and gestured towards the shelf. “The rice wasn’t supposed to be here?”

Wooyoung scrunched up his nose and took a look, just in case it was hidden behind the pasta or any other box, but apparently they really had run out of rice and had forgotten to add it to the shopping list they kept on their fridge. 

“I can go grab it real quick while you prepare the rest,” San automatically suggested whilst Wooyoung checked other shelves, even though he knew that neither Yeosang nor him would store the rice somewhere else.

“No, it’s fine. I can go. You don’t need to buy my rice.”

Wooyoung had completely forgotten that Yeosang and Jongho were in the room too. 

“If I can eat your food, I can buy your rice too.” 

So when San leaned in to shush him with a peck, Wooyoung didn’t bolt but smiled against his mouth. He had felt so giddy since the night before, especially since he had made the decision to talk everything out for their “anniversary”.

Somehow, having an official date set helped him to prepare himself mentally and decide how he wanted to approach everything.

He would hold on tightly to the promise San had made —that nothing he said could change how San saw him— and hope for the best.

“Fine,” Wooyoung conceded. “Do you want me to boil some water to make tea?”

They were still so close that Wooyoung could count San’s eyelashes.

“No more coffees in the morning?” 

“Only sometimes. I can survive with a black tea on a Sunday.”

“Then make it two.” Another peck before reaching out to take his phone from the kitchen counter. “Be right back.”

At least, Wooyoung wasn’t the only one who forgot that Yeosang and Jongho were there because San didn’t spare them a glance before walking out of the flat. 

Wooyoung was tying his hair up when Yeosang coughed. 

“Did you make it official last night or what the hell just happened?”

Startled, Wooyoung turned in their direction with the kimchi container in his hands.

“God, fuck you. I forgot you were there.”

“I low-key guessed that when you got all lovey-dovey over the rice.”

“We didn’t-.”

Jongho chuckled. “It was cute.”

It was embarrassing to hear his friends commenting on something that had felt so natural to him. Wooyoung had felt like he was in a bubble since San had come to his flat the night before and a little part of him wished the moment could last forever because it was so easy to be like this.

It was as if this had always been their dynamic. 

As if they took baths together and slept together every day. 

“Still thinking about you not having enough last night and keeping up with the celebration party this morning, though,” Yeosang brought the topic up again, teasingly.

Wooyoung opened the fridge to grab the eggs, a giggle leaving his lips.

“If by ‘celebration party’ you mean sex, I’m sorry to inform you that we didn’t do anything last night. We just watched some TikToks until we got sleepy.”

Jongho raised his eyebrows. “Were you drunk?”

“Huh? No? San was feeling a bit down so I tried to cheer him up and we fell asleep around midnight.” He tilted his head to look at Jongho. “You know how involved he always gets with anything that happens to the team. He was sober when he came here last night.”

“So, let’s recap,” Yeosang said. “You spent the night cheering San up with no sex involved, then you slept in your bed together and now you are also cooking breakfast together while you are wearing his player tee?”

Wooyoung rubbed his nape. “You are making me wonder what’s so wrong about all of that.”

“Oh.” Yeosang approached him to fill the kettle. “Nothing. It’s just that I think that your famous seventeen percent has disappeared.”

Jongho got closer to them too, leaning against the fridge. 

“Did he tell you about that?” Wooyoung asked him. His face had to be glowing considering how much it was burning, the blush was probably past his neck, brushing his collarbones. 

“In his defence, I also tell him many things San tells me.”

“I shouldn’t have asked when I already knew the answer,” Wooyoung groaned. 

Although Jongho was one of San’s closest friends, Wooyoung was sure that his secrets, confessions and feelings were safe with him so he had no reason to get offended. After all, he had spilled his guts a few times with Jongho around. 

And, most importantly, Yeosang wouldn’t have said anything to him if he thought that Jongho was incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

Wooyoung pulled out the mugs and left them beside the kettle. 

“It’s just…” He smiled. “It’s getting easier to do so many things that were scary before. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long.”

Without making any noise, Jongho poured himself a glass of water and walked into the bedroom, likely thinking that this was a conversation that it was better to have without him.

Wooyoung’s smile grew wider. He was always so considerate, giving Wooyoung space to freely talk about San when he could have stayed in the kitchen and listened to their exchange. 

“You always talk as if it wasn’t huge for you to start considering him your friend and not just someone you occasionally had sex with.”

“You helped with that,” Wooyoung murmured, rummaging through one of the cabinets until he found the teapot he was looking for. “You talked wonders about him so I didn’t have to think too much before giving him a chance.”

His fingers brushed the crimson material of the teapot.

“San also helped, even if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

He opened the lid and filled the filter with the black tea he had been obsessed with lately —Irish Cream; it wasn’t as strong as the coffee he used to have but it surely had the perfect amount of caffeine to not miss the coffee too much, and it also tasted heavenly. 

“I’m… going to tell him soon. For real this time.”

“That you are stupidly in love with him?

Wooyoung snorted as he smacked Yeosang’s arm. “That, too, but I was talking about… high school and Junseo and…” His throat got dry before he could say his name. “And Hyeon.”

Yeosang’s hand casually landed on top of Wooyoung’s.

“Finally putting on the big boy pants?” Yeosang joked, because, sometimes, Wooyoung preferred the lighter tone rather than really facing how nerve-wracking all of this was.

“Do you really think he won’t…?”

Yeosang squeezed his hand. “San will be furious, but not because of you. Just like I am every time I think about it.”

The water boiled while Wooyoung sighed, defeated like every time he brought the topic up with Yeosang because their views were so different. 

“It was my fault,” Wooyoung murmured. “They were assholes but I should have learnt something after Junseo.”

Yeosang grabbed a mug for himself while he rolled his eyes, taking the metallic box where he kept his favourite rooibos. Wooyoung was still impressed by the subtle campaign Yeosang had been running since they had moved in together, until he turned Wooyoung into another tea addict.

“First of all, it wasn’t the same, or do I need to remind you of all the times Hyeon told you he was falling for you and that he couldn’t stop thinking about you? Because I haven’t forgotten any of the empty promises he made.”

Wooyoung had to admit that Hyeon had really worked for it and hadn’t stopped until Wooyoung believed every single word that left his mouth, even though all of them were a lie. 

“Oh, Woo, baby, you  didn’t really think that I would like someone that’s still in high school and only thinks about his next Instagram post, right?”

His hands trembled as he closed his fingers around the pan to cook the kimchi and the eggs. Where was San? He should be back already. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted him. I should have listened to you or to… the others, but I didn’t.”

“You were sixteen, Wooyoung.”

“I was so fucking stupid.”

Stupid enough to fool around with a university football player when he hadn’t even turned fifteen yet, learn nothing about it and fall in the trap of another one not even a year later. Stupid enough to believe in fairytales and think that Hyeon might date him someday. Stupid enough not to notice that the top player of the team had a queue of people after him long enough that he would never choose the young, silly, loud high school boy —no matter how many things said boy had already done for him.

Yeosang pressed his finger against Wooyoung’s chest as he squinted his eyes, clearly hurt by Wooyoung’s comments even if they weren’t directed at him .

“He was so miserable that he shared with his friends every conversation and picture that y-...” His voice trailed off at the sound of the main door opening. “Did you go to Busan to get the rice?”

Wooyoung turned around to add honey to their mugs.

The kimchi and the eggs took so little time to cook that he didn’t want to add them to the pan until the rice was half-done. 

“I bumped into Shuhua and I was updating her on everything that happened yesterday. She was in a hurry yesterday and couldn’t join us at the bar.” 

San removed his shoes and jacket and proceeded to wash the rice as if he hadn’t noticed the tension floating in the air. Maybe he was just ignoring it.

“Apparently she woke up this morning to a bunch of messages on the cheerleader group making jokes about Beomgyu terrorising football players.” San chuckled. “Is this enough rice?”

Wooyoung pressed his still trembling hands against his legs. 

“Yeah, perfect.”

“I’m sure I sent some of those messages from Felix’s phone,” Yeosang said, squeezing Wooyoung’s arm one more time. “I’m going to check if my boyfriend is still alive.”

He walked towards the bedroom and all of a sudden turned his head again.

“By the way, we are ordering some pizzas later and watching a movie, you in?”

Wooyoung had joined their movie days countless times, used to being the platonic third member of their relationship. San had also joined them too in the past, but he usually came on purpose for that. He had never been there already to decide if he wanted to leave or stay.

“I’m skipping the pizzas, my leftovers won’t eat themselves, but count me in for the movie,” Wooyoung said. He could study after breakfast and rest for the rest of the day. 

“I…” San pursed his lips and Wooyoung craned his head to look at him. 

“Do you need to go to the gym later?”

San bit the inner part of his cheek. “Not really? I wanted to take the day off.”

“You can leave after lunch if you want to be at home,” Wooyoung assured. Nobody understood better than him the need to sometimes have no company, just silence and peace.

“Oh, no. I mean… I… want to. It’s just…” His gaze flew to Yeosang and they both realised at that very moment that Yeosang wasn’t even there anymore, copying Jongho’s art of disappearing without making a noise. 

“Something happened?”

Did Shuhua tell him something else about the other team?

San groaned. “No, no.” He sighed. “Do you want me to stay?”

“What?”

“Last night you asked me to stay until lunch so I’m not sure if… y’know…”

Wooyoung’s heart dropped when he finally understood why San was hesitating.

“Of course I want you to stay all day if you want, San. I love spending time with you.” He sighed. “I just thought you might have things to do and that’s why I only asked you to have lunch with me but… yeah.”

He glanced at the rice cooker. They still had to wait eight more minutes for their rice. 

“I guess I was just used to…” San leaned against the kitchen counter. “Everything we are doing lately is so new.”

“Is that bad?”

San shook his head. “It’s too good.”

Wooyoung gently pushed San’s mug in his direction after removing the filter from the teapot and pouring the tea.

“I’m scared to get too excited and overstep a boundary because I’m so lost now. Last night I wasn’t sure if you would even let me stay and all of a sudden…”

Despising himself was a sport Wooyoung had been practising since his last year of high school, but if there was something he despised more, that certainly was the manifestation of all the insecurities he had accidentally put in San’s head.

He laced their fingers together.

“You won’t overstep. Ask me, like you’ve been doing all this time. I’ll ask you too,” Wooyoung promised. “All of this is new to me too, but I like it.”

Their lips met after Wooyoung tilted his head up.

“I like this .”

“I like this too.”

“Do you think Yeosang will interrupt us again if we kiss until the rice is done?”

San grinned, his palm cupping Wooyoung’s cheek as he surged forward again. 

“I won’t stop kissing you even if he comes in here again…” 

***

When Wooyoung had left his flat after lunch, the original idea was to go to the mall to get Hongjoong some cancelling-noise headphones for his birthday. He had been debating between that option and the new Sims 4 expansion but considering that their finals were approaching and that Hongjoong’s headphones needed an upgrade, Wooyoung had left the Sims 4 expansion on the list of future-present-ideas . 

So, as planned, he had taken the bus to the mall and walked towards the specific store where he knew the headphones he was looking for were. 

Nevertheless, on his way to the shop, his attention had drifted to another place, leading him to another store first. 

It was a small brand that sold hoodies, sweaters and t-shirts with cute embroidery designs. He and Yeosang loved to visit it because the designs changed every few weeks, and this particular week there was one with a black cat reading a book named “How To Rule The World With Purrs”. 

It was a very simple design, considering others Wooyoung had seen before, but it felt wrong to keep walking when that hoodie was begging him to end up in his basket.

He had been thinking about getting San a little gift to celebrate not only his matches but also how he had been smashing his exams lately, and this seemed like a pretty cute and comfortable option.

Also, Wooyoung was sure that DJV was going to win the next match and get into the semi-finals so he could keep the gift in his wardrobe until their anniversary arrived, which was a few days after that match, and give it to him then. 

Right?

It could also be… in some way, a present to celebrate that it had been a year.

Although, perhaps, Wooyoung should buy something else for that. 

Were two gifts too much ?

Could someone buy too many presents if they were buying them with genuine intentions?

Was he an idiot for thinking about getting someone who wasn’t his boyfriend a present to celebrate their first official encounter? 

Before he could regret it, he bought the hoodie and went straight to one of his favourite shops in the mall —a handmade candle shop.

San had told him countless times that he adored the smell of one that was sold in that store. He even said that he associated that scent with Wooyoung so, in his head, it was sweet to get one for San.

God.

Yeosang was going to laugh so much when Wooyoung confessed the whole meltdown he’d had at the mall when he was supposed to only be buying Hongjoong’s birthday present.

Sighing, he finally bought the damn headphones and took a seat in a coffee shop, opting to make the confession via text instead of having to deal with Yeosang’s expressions as he told him what he had done within the last twenty minutes; because it hadn’t taken him any longer than that to make the decision that San deserved not one but two presents.

He was absolutely out of his mind.

But it made him smile to picture San wearing that hoodie.

Messages:

j. woo [17:02]: 

is it too boyfriend to buy san some gifts and give them
to him for our mmm yk

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [17:04]: 

For your what? 👀

j. woo [17:04]: 

it’s gonna be a year since we /truly/ met

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [17:05]: 

You mean anniversary? 👀

j. woo [17:06]: 

san invited me to spend the night w him 
on that date and i might have bought him 
a hoodie and a candle

i mean

at first it wasn’t because of the anniversary

it was because i think he deserves them

but then…

put me out of my misery please

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [17:08]: 

Put yourself out of your misery by asking San 
to be your boyfriend istg

j. woo [17:09]: 

best friend card: revoked <3

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [17:10]: 

😒 

You can’t live without me, Wooyoung

***

“Miyeon is spamming my phone and asking us to go to Blue Moon,” Hongjoong informed him after they had both inhaled too much soju in less than two hours. “She said that her friend Yuqi is the DJ tonight and we can’t miss her.”

Hongjoong was going to his hometown during the weekend to celebrate his birthday with his childhood friends and his family but Wooyoung couldn’t ignore the real date anyway. He was the closest friend Hongjoong had there and Wooyoung loved to dote on his friends, particularly on special occasions like this one.

“Whatever you want. Yeosang and the rest were going too. I think he told me there was also a drink discount if you were wearing purple clothes or something like that.”

“That’s what Miyeon was telling me. She said that she saw your friends and also sent me a picture of Felix dancing with Shuhua.”

“Cheerleaders…”

Hongjoong snorted, pouring the last two shots of their current bottle.

“I don’t mind going. Maybe I get an extra discount because it’s my birthday.”

“Really? You are not usually a fan of clubs. We can keep drinking and do karaoke like we said.”

They both looked at Mars, who was staring at them from the couch, all sprawled out, as if the entire living room belonged to him —Wooyoung suspected that was actually true.

“I think I need it. I’ve been overthinking too much these past couple of weeks.”

“We can do whatever you want, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong played with his tiny glass, his freshly dyed blueberry hair looking too bright under the lights when he shook his head.

“I have the perfect purple stuff we can wear.”

Wooyoung smiled. “Why do I always forget you are a fashionista?”

*

Messages:

j. woo [23:01]:

j. woo sent a picture

so

no karaoke

yes soju

yes club

yes dancing

captain sannie [23:02]: 

spiritually going to blue moon just to see u

u look soooo good w that makeup

dont kiss strangers while im not there

Wooyoung didn’t try to hide the silly smile while Hongjoong was busy trying to decipher Miyeon’s messages, where apparently she was explaining to him how to skip the queue and get inside in less than ten minutes just because they were Yuqi’s friends.

Even though they actually weren’t Yuqi’s friends .

Messages:

j. woo [23:03]: 

as if i haven’t been only kissing you for almost a year

“Minnie and Miyeon are coming for us,” Hongjoong informed him as he adjusted the purple choker around his neck.

After deciding that they were going to the club, Hongjoong focused on their outfits and Wooyoung on their make-up. Usually, he used everything he learnt in high school to do pretty eyeshadow looks on Yeosang. 

At first, it was because it healed him and helped him change the relationship he had with make-up. Now it was a tradition —if Wooyoung had time and was inspired, Yeosang didn’t touch a single brush. 

Wooyoung checked the loose, silky, purple blouse Hongjoong gave him one more time while they waited. It was short-sleeved so everyone could see the slim turtleneck he was wearing underneath, his necklace resting atop his collarbones. 

He had tied up the upper part of his hair in a casual ponytail and done a quick smudged eyeshadow, nothing too fancy.

Hongjoong, on the other side, was rocking a black, long-sleeved jumpsuit paired with a lilac choker and a corset. And Wooyoung had given him a heavy eye make-up look, making his gaze look sharper and more captivating.

“Guys!” Miyeon waved her hand from the entrance. 

Since the match where they had bumped into each other, Wooyoung had been talking more to her and had even hung out with Hongjoong, Miyeon and her friends a few times. Not many times, but enough to have Miyeon as excited to see him as she seemed to be to see Hongjoong, even though her relationship with his friend was way closer.

“Happy birthday!” She yelled, throwing herself into Hongjoong’s arms whilst Minnie smiled at them. It was, honestly, impressive how much Hongjoong was allowing any type of skinship just because it was his birthday.

Wooyoung had taken notes for future celebrations. He hadn’t hugged him enough when he had got to his flat earlier.

“She drank way too much vodka before coming here,” Minnie explained.

Miyeon stretched her arm to shush her friend. “Don’t expose me.”

Hongjoong cleared his throat. 

“Can you explain to us again how we are supposed to get inside and skip…” He gestured towards the queue. “This?”

Miyeon pulled back, a devilish grin hanging from her pretty, red lips. 

“Because Miyeon from the past knew I would be able to convince you so I added you to Yuqi’s guestlist.” She let out an even more devilish snicker. “I gotta confess, I thought I would need to beg, but you can’t miss Yuqi! Especially when she’s the DJ on your birthday!”

“She must be about to start, by the way,” Minnie said, turning around to go back inside. “Let’s go before Soyeon kicks our asses.”

*

“Hello, my angels from Blue Moon, are you having fun?” Yuqi said with a wide smile after taking a long sip from her bottle of water, her wavy, orange hair contrasting with the neon purple top and baggy trousers she was wearing. 

Yeosang hugged Wooyoung from behind, cheering. 

It had been, what, forty minutes since they arrived? And in that time Yeosang and Yeonjun had found time to invite Wooyoung to drink a few more shots and they had been dancing with him while Miyeon and her friends talked to Hongjoong.

All the groups had merged so Wooyoung was lost in an ocean of familiar faces.

Except one.

Messages:

j. woo [00:10]: 

miss youuu

captain sannie [00:12]: 

ru having fun?

j. woo [00:12]: 

yes but):

captain sannie [00:12]: 

u drunk?

j. woo [00:13]: 

a little bit

captain sannie [00:13]: 

why ru texting me then

have fun 

im putting on my best angry face

j. woo [00:14]: 

because!

i miss you!

noo not the angry face 😭

It felt like going out for the first time since everything happened, though. Wooyoung still couldn’t pinpoint if the switch inside his head happened the day he saw San after his match for the first time or if it had been slowly happening for months and that was the day he noticed it but, ever since, he had been adding little changes to his life and they had made him so much happier.

It wasn’t much, but to him it was a lot.

The changes were hidden in details like the messages he sent to Beomgyu after the last match or the enthusiasm he put into actively participating in the conversation when Miyeon and her friends sat with Hongjoong and him. 

Perhaps, he had needed to face one of the biggest consequences of listening to his fears —not being able to have a regular relationship with San in public — to fully wake up and listen to what Yeosang had been telling him for the past few years.

“This next song is very special to me because my girlfriend wrote it for me a few months ago,” Yuqi announced. “So I worked on a remix just for her.” Her eyes searched through the crowd until she spotted Soyeon, who was next to Minnie. Yuqi winked. “I wanna see you kissing the fuck out of your partners with this one since I can’t kiss my queen right now.”

Wooyoung didn’t need to hear the first note to know it was Eyes Roll .

Yeosang had been obsessed with Soyeon’s new song since Miyeon had sent him the link to it. 

As expected, soon Wooyoung found himself surrounded by different couples so his fingers closed around Hongjoong’s arm to bribe him into dancing to another song with him. Hongjoong forced a smile and Wooyoung frowned. 

He had looked so hyped some minutes ago, singing every song Yuqi had been playing with Miyeon. 

“What’s up?” Wooyoung spoke loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “I just saw my ex.”

“You what?” Wooyoung looked around but he only saw the same people that had been with them since they arrived, and also Mingi, Minho and Seonghwa, who had joined them a few songs prior. “Do you want to leave?”

Hongjoong switched their positions, shrugging. “It’s okay. I can’t see him like this.”

“Okay.”

The only reason why Wooyoung didn’t ask directly who his ex-boyfriend was so he could, finally, picture a face when they talked about him, was the look of distress crossing his friend’s features. 

“I should have supposed he would be here,” Hongjoong said. 

Wooyoung gave Hongjoong’s arm a caress. “We can move closer to the stage if you want.”

“Let me go to the toilet first.”

Hongjoong drew a tense smile and pushed himself through the people dancing around them. Wooyoung would have offered to go with him if it wasn’t because he knew Hongjoong well enough to get the cue that he needed some time alone, likely to collect himself before going on with the night.

Wooyoung scanned the club again, wondering who could be the mysterious ex-boyfriend that still had Hongjoong so hooked even though it had been around two years since their break-up.

Yeonjun suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him into their group again.

“And she gon’ make your eyes roll,” he sang, twirling sensually and then comically twerking to the chorus just to make Wooyoung laugh. “Why were you by yourself when the sapphic anthem was playing?”

Wooyoung pointed at their friends. “It’s not like I have a lover I can kiss right now.”

In all honesty, not all of them were shamelessly making out in the middle of the club, that was something for the brave ones like Beomgyu and Taehyun, but they were still dancing with their partners. 

“Where’s Soobin?”

Yeonjun gestured towards the other corner of the club. “Dancing with some classmates.”

He pulled Wooyoung against his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and swayed at the rhythm of the song completely unfazed. 

“Where’s your captain?”

Wooyoung chuckled, Yeonjun was such a smart rascal. He had never talked explicitly about his relationship with San with him but he had never hidden it either. If Yeonjun texted him and he had plans with San, he told him; and if Yeonjun made a teasing comment about them, Wooyoung barely defended himself. 

“Last time I checked, he was asking me to not kiss any strangers since he isn’t here,” he confessed, because it was pointless to keep giving Yeonjun vague answers when it was clear that his friend had connected the dots a long time ago.

“Damn, Choi San. I saw you talking a little bit after the match the other day.”

“I saw you kissing Soobin after the match,” Wooyoung whispered, mischievously, tilting his head to look at Yeonjun. 

Contrary to Hongjoong, Jongho and Yeosang, who weren’t fans of intense physical contact, Yeonjun and Wooyoung always ended up all tangled around each other the moment they’d had a couple of shots. It was kind of comforting to have someone, apart from San, who sought that warmth as much as he did. 

“We might have made it official official.”

“For real this time?”

Yeonjun and Soobin had one of the messiest get-together stories Wooyoung’d had the pleasure to hear, starting from them painfully pining for a year because they didn’t want to ruin their friendship, then them panicking after fooling around a few times and confessing because of the very same reason, afterwards their famous ‘we can keep this strictly platonic again’ while kissing every damn week and now… boyfriends?

“For real this time.” 

Yeonjun’s arms slid down Wooyoung’s figure when the bridge started playing and Wooyoung turned around to sing the lyrics to him and jump at the same time when the beat broke off. The remix had made the song so much longer. It was almost as addictive as the original version. 

He took his phone and filmed a video of him dancing with Yeonjun to send it to San.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“When are you making it official?”

Wooyoung smacked Yeonjun’s arm. 

The song smoothly merged into the beginning of the next one and Wooyoung turned his head, wondering if he should go to the toilets to talk to Hongjoong or keep respecting his decision. 

Messages:

j. woo [00:40]: 

j. woo sent a video

captain sannie [00:45]: 

goodnight to u too?

lol

captain sannie sent a picture

i was trying to sleep

Yeosang jumped towards them whilst Wooyoung quickly replied to San’s messages. 

“Woo, last drink?” 

Yeonjun had already stopped for the night.

Messages:

j. woo [00:46]: 

bed selfie?

that’s illegal

wanna kiss you

captain sannie [00:47]: 

ur video was illegal

wish i was there to really kiss u

Wooyoung walked in the direction of the bar and let Yeosang order his drink whilst he opened Hongjoong’s chat.

Messages:

j. woo [00:49]: 

are you alive?

i’m worried

He turned around to look for Hongjoong again and his eyes widened when he spotted his characteristic blue hair not so far from their position. His phone dropped into his pocket again when he also recognised Seonghwa talking to him whilst Hongjoong touched his cheek .

The answer had really been in front of his eyes for such a long time.

That was why Mars was related to his ex-boyfriend’s name, because if you freaking switched Seonghwa’s name around, that was what it meant.

Shit .

“What’s up?” Yeosang wondered as he handed him his glass. 

“Remember that I told you that Hongjoong had a sad story with his ex and that he was very cryptic about him?” 

Yeosang nodded. 

“It’s Seonghwa.”

“What.”

Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang’s shoulders to position him exactly where he could see them, low-key hidden behind Yunho and Mingi’s tall and broad figures. 

“Do you see them?”

“I think they are kissing.”

“What the fuck.”

In less than three seconds, his mind replayed all the times Jongho had insisted that Seonghwa had his reasons to be wary. He remembered San the other day clearly recalling when Hongjoong’s birthday was, as if Wooyoung had repeated the date enough for him to not forget it.

Mingi got in the middle of their view as Wooyoung leaned against the counter.

Did Seonghwa think that Wooyoung would break up with San like Hongjoong had done to him? 

His vision blurred as he tried to recall the details of their break-up but Hongjoong only told him that during his first year of university he felt like he was holding his boyfriend back and, eventually, the situation grew unbearable to him and unfair to his partner, so he decided to break up. 

Wooyoung took a long sip, as though that could clear his mind.

“Seonghwa, wait!” That was Jongho’s voice. 

Wooyoung drank again. 

He wasn’t holding San back, he was doing his best. He wasn’t giving him any type of false hope and had always been honest with him.

Did Seonghwa really think he would dump him one day just because his story with Hongjoong didn’t turn out well?

Alcohol clouded his head whilst the information that used to be a secret swiftly unveiled itself in front of him and, at the same time, fueled not only his fears but also the need to talk everything out with San during their anniversary.

They couldn’t end up like this.

He didn’t want to feel like crying every time he watched cat videos.

“Woo,” Yeosang called close to his ear, his hand taking Wooyoung’s glass before he could gulp down the rest of the drink.

“I’m going to talk to Hongjoong,” he said, frantic with the entire situation as he tried to find his friend while Jongho pushed people to reach the door and grab Seonghwa, who had stormed out in a blink. 

He wasn’t sober enough for any of this.

He felt like he wouldn’t have been able to handle any of this sober anyway. 

His legs had a mind of their own as Wooyoung strode across the club, following the mop of blue hair that seemed to be rushing in the direction of the toilets again, instead of searching for any of his friends.

“Hey,” he said as he stood in front of him, his hands closing around Hongjoong’s shoulders to stop him. 

Hongjoong’s eyes were glassy when he stared back at him.

“He came to wish me a happy birthday,” he mumbled, slow enough for Wooyoung to half-hear him, half-read his lips. “It has been a year… And now…”

A year since what?

Wooyoung pulled Hongjoong against his chest.

“Do you want to go home? You promised me a sleepover with Mars.”

Hongjoong nodded against his chest.

“Wait for me here while I say goodbye to the rest.”

Perhaps, it wasn’t the best combination ever to deal with his foggy head, his anxiety and his concern while he explained to his friends that he was taking Hongjoong’s home. It brought back memories of him pushing through people in the middle of a party when he was in high school, though that time it was to find the exit, since the night that everything blew up there wasn’t anyone that made him feel truly safe to protect him.

He had felt so ashamed for sneaking into a fraternity party while still underage just to get his heart broken and turn into the joke of a bunch of college students that he had jumped into a taxi all by himself, after freaking tripping in his high creepers because he was crying and falling to the floor to make everything even worse, and had called Yeosang a few hours after the panic attack had worn off. 

His parents, thankfully, weren’t at home that night.

But he wasn’t going to leave Hongjoong alone with his thoughts. Wooyoung wasn’t going to let his friend isolate himself when he could rely on him, even if that meant spending the rest of the night curled up under the blankets listening to some ASMR videos.

“Hey, I didn’t actually think you would fall so hard. I thought you were some kind of cold-hearted bitch and that I would have to work a bit harder, but you really just wanted a little bit of attention.”

His heart was stammering inside his chest, Hyeon’s terrible speech resonating inside his head above the loud music Yuqi was playing. 

“I’m sorry, okay? It was going to be a funny bet because nobody thought you could be so… easy.”

Deep down, he regretted having left his drink on the counter with Yeosang. A part of his head deserved to be knocked out so he could focus on Hongjoong and forget about his own past for a day.

It wasn’t the time to think about it.

His arm circled Hongjoong’s shoulders when he reached his position again.

“Do you want to get some water before we leave?”

***

Sadly, even though Wooyoung did his best to focus on Hongjoong, his mind kept wandering every time his friend left his side to pour himself more water, take a shower or just remove his make-up. 

Hongjoong had told him while they were in the taxi that he didn’t feel like talking that night but that he appreciated Wooyoung’s company, so they had been mostly in silence during the entire ride to Hongjoong’s place and also while they both got ready for bed. 

The problem? That it was so easy to listen to his brain when nobody else was talking and his anxiety and his paranoia were so convincing after midnight, especially when he wasn’t sober. 

Messages:

j. woo [1:55]: 

hey. i guess you are sleeping already.
i was just thinking.
thinking too much probably. but.
is that why seonghwa hates me? because

well

god i shouldn’t be texting this

j. woo [1:59]:

it’s just that i don’t know exactly what happened
between hongjoong and him but i promise

j. woo [2:10]: 

i love you san

To be overthinking so much, he couldn’t put two ideas together to convey everything he had been keeping inside, from the feelings he had been harbouring to the certainty that, unless San asked him to leave his life, Wooyoung would perish there. 

By his side. 

San made him too happy to push him away, despite how undeserving Wooyoung felt. 

“Thank you for coming home with me,” Hongjoong murmured with swollen eyes and his blanket covering his chin. “Sorry I ruined your night.”

“It’s nothing. And you didn’t ruin it, I wanted to be with you.” Wooyoung patted Hongjoong’s leg. “Try to rest and we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Hongjoong sighed. “Yeah, I know. Sorry I also hid that from you. It was… I…”

“Forget about it for now. We’ll have time for that in the morning.”

“Thank you, Woo.”

“Happy birthday, Joongie.”

Messages:

j. woo [1:55]: 

deleted message

deleted message

deleted message

j. woo [1:59]:

deleted message

j. woo [2:10]: 

deleted message

j. woo [2:34]:

sorry

i was just in shock about seonghwa and hoongjoong

ignore me

good night sannie

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“Telling you my feelings.
Or to die without revealing.
That you got inside my head.
And set a fire there instead?”

The next morning, Wooyoung avoided his phone like the plague from the moment he fully woke up. He had barely been able to sleep for a couple of hours, his anxiety doing somersaults in his stomach and making him refill his glass of water countless times throughout the night. 

At some point between four and five in the morning, Mars had joined him in bed. Wooyoung thought he was looking for blood since that cat was always ready to start a fight but, surprisingly, he must have sensed that Wooyoung wasn’t feeling well because instead of jumping onto him to bite his arm, he had started kneading his stomach while purring. 

It had been the strangely comforting presence of the feline that had lulled Wooyoung into an agitated journey of ambiguous dreams. 

When he next opened his eyes, Mars was still with him, curled up in the space beside him. 

“Hey, Satan,” Wooyoung murmured, his voice hoarse and his eyes half-closed. His fingers scratched between the cat’s ears. “Thank you for the company. I didn’t know you could be such a good cuddle buddy.”

He didn’t test his luck by snuggling closer to Mars but he pulled at the blanket and hid underneath it for a little longer. He didn’t have any energy to face whatever message San might have sent him. 

What if he was awake when Wooyoung confessed and saw him deleting the messages?

Why did he even send the messages in the first place?

Someone should take his phone away from him when he was anxious and tipsy, because it was very clear that he was unable to make good decisions.

Sadly, a hesitant knock forced him to face the real world.

“Wooyoung?” Hongjoong asked from the other side. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, I’m here with the little demon.”

The door started opening while Hongjoong giggled. “I know, I heard you talking to him.”

Wooyoung smiled when he saw that Hongjoong was carrying a tray with some breakfast and two mugs of what seemed to be chai latte.

“You must be a ninja ‘cause I didn’t hear you preparing all of this.”

Hongjoong carefully set the tray on the mattress. 

“My mum is a light sleeper so I got used to not making any noise in the morning.”

A couple of years ago, when they had first met, Hongjoong was temporarily living with his mother because she was working in the area. The flat where they were belonged to Hongjoong’s family so he didn’t even need to pay rent, which was the reason why he only lived with Mars now.

Wooyoung had always wondered if it didn’t feel lonely to live in a two-bedroom flat with only his cat, but he had never dared to ask Hongjoong that question. 

“How are you feeling?” Wooyoung asked after grabbing his mug and taking a small sip to test the temperature. 

Hongjoong sighed. “Like shit.”

His hand rubbed Mars under his chin.

“I’m so sorry you had to find everything out like this. At first I didn’t tell you who he was because you didn’t know him and then when you met San, I kept chickening out over and over.”

“But why?” 

It wasn’t an accusatory question, Wooyoung just wanted to understand him.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want to make it real. Or I’m simply stupid.” He took a bite of his sandwich. He loved to have those sandwiches for breakfast. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m not going to get mad at you for having some secrets.” He chuckled. “It would be high-key hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“It’s not the same.” Hongjoong was still looking at Mars. “I’ve done so many things wrong with Seonghwa and every time I think I’m finally moving on a little bit, I see him again and remember everything we went through and I feel so… bad. So guilty and shitty and…”

Wooyoung inspected the sandwich, realising that it was clearly homemade. It was really impressive to think that he hadn’t heard a single thing considering how easily he woke up and how poorly he had slept the night before.

“Last night you told me a couple of times that it had been a year. Were you referring to the last time you met up?”

Hongjoong snorted, startling Mars. “Sorry, sorry,” he tapped his cat’s head. 

Then, he shook his head. 

“I was talking about the last time we made out.”

“Come again?” 

There were so many pieces missing that Wooyoung hoped this was the day where Hongjoong felt safe enough to share the whole story with him, because although Wooyoung was supposed to get more and more information every day, the truth was that the more he knew, the less he understood what had happened.

“Since we broke up, every time we've bumped into each other, we've ended up fooling around. Sometimes it was just… a few kisses, other times it was something more… until we decided to stop doing that, because it wasn’t good for either of us.”

“But last night…”

Hongjoong frowned as he turned his head to look at Wooyoung.

“He tried to kiss me and I turned him down.”

God, that was why Seonghwa stormed out of the club. 

This was so sad.

“I regretted it the moment I saw how hurt he was but he ran away and I…” Hongjoong took a little piece of his sandwich and put it into his mouth, likely giving himself some time to sort through his thoughts. “I don’t know why he did that. I don’t know what we are even doing. I broke up with him so he could keep going with his amazing life without worrying so much about how to ease his introverted boyfriend into his glamorous world.”

“But it wasn’t you who should have made that decision, Hongjoong. What if he can’t move on either and misses you as much as you miss him?”

Hongjoong cackled, avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes again.

“Have you seen him? It’s only a matter of time until he finds someone on his level.”

As if it was second nature, Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong’s arm. 

“Have you seen yourself ?”

“I do, every day,” Hongjoong whispered. “Seonghwa is just as popular as San, but since he’s not a football player, it’s harder to notice it. Especially if you don't have Instagram and don’t follow him on TikTok.”

“He’s a designer, right?”

Hongjoong nodded. “When I met him, he had already created some of his own clothes and decided that he wanted to study Fashion Design in college. He even started working to be able to afford all the expensive fabrics he uses in his designs.”

There was a brief silence while Wooyoung sipped more tea.

“Was that why you bonded? Because of fashion?”

Hongjoong nodded again. “We had one of those crazy stories that only happen in movies.” He finished the first half of his sandwich and looked at Mars again. “Instagram had been recommending his posts to me for a few weeks before I decided to follow him. I liked his style and all the stories he posted reworking old clothes that his parents didn’t wear anymore. He followed me back some days later and we started liking and commenting on each other’s posts.”

“That’s cute.”

“Well. The thing was that, one day, while I was on my stan account on Twitter, some moots started posting pictures of themselves because of a trend and…”

Wooyoung gasped. “No way.”

Another nod. “We had been following each other on Twitter too, yeah. And we used to interact quite a lot too.”

“How old were you?”

“Almost sixteen. I remember I slid into his DMs so fast when I saw his picture, and we clicked. We shared so many experiences and hobbies and… everything. We both had even skipped a year and had spent most of our lives being the oldest in our classes because of it.”

Was this the consequence of paying attention to the demons inside your head? Because just by hearing the beginning of their story, Wooyoung, as the hopeless romantic he actually was, could already tell that they were meant to be. 

And that, probably, they both knew that too, and that was why they couldn’t let each other go.

His lips curled in a sad smile. 

Life was hard enough, why did love need to be difficult too? 

Why did they both make it even more difficult?

He doubted he could forgive himself if he purposely pushed San away. 

“But we met in real life after we both turned sixteen, after having many video calls and convincing some friends to come with us just in case.”

Hongjoong raised his gaze to look at Wooyoung. “You can guess who Seonghwa brought.”

“San?” Wooyoung asked in a murmur.

“Yeah. I took my cousin, Jihyo, with me.”

“I swear I’m not mad because you kept all of this a secret but I hate you for not telling me all of this sooner. I thought you were just moots on Twitter who bonded and that was it, nothing special.”

“Sorry.”

Wooyoung bit another piece of his sandwich. 

“Continue, continue.”

Would Hongjoong reveal when he had decided that the best decision he could make was leaving Seonghwa’s life? Because although Wooyoung could tell that his friend was as incompetent as him when it came to seeing his own worth, he guessed it must have been something else too. 

Something that Hongjoong hadn’t told him yet.

“I don’t know what else to tell you about the beginning. I fell in love with him really fast, even though he always liked to say that he fell faster than me. And… we started dating even though we lived in different cities.”

“What about your parents?”

“We were lucky. Seonghwa’s parents already knew he was gay and my mum and sister didn’t bat an eye when I told them I was bi, so eventually we could spend some weekends at each other’s houses and all of that.”

“So it was really serious.”

“Yeah.” Hongjoong devoured the rest of his sandwich. “Everything worked so well until we both started college.”

He sighed and lay on his side, grabbing the pillow and putting it under his head. 

“But.. what happened?”

Hongjoong parted his lips and closed them again, probably at a loss for words.

Wooyoung wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him because… why . 

Why would you try so hard to sabotage a relationship that had only brought you happiness? Why would you run away from a possible future together all of a sudden? 

Unless Hongjoong was skipping many chapters again, it didn’t even sound like he was going to start explaining the thousands of arguments they had while they were in their first year of college. 

His heart shattered. 

What if in his case it happened the opposite way? What if it was San  who couldn’t stand Wooyoung’s boundaries anymore? Because, despite Wooyoung’s intention to talk everything out for their anniversary, that didn’t mean that he was ready to have a fully public relationship with him.

He would need time, patience and reassurance. 

Opening up to San wasn’t the last step, just another one in the middle of his never-ending stairs. 

“The contrast between us was too much for me,” Hongjoong confessed. “In just a couple of weeks, Seonghwa was the president of his class, was in different group chats, had a group of friends and loads of plans whereas I was still shyly talking to only Miyeon and you.”

Mars stretched beside Hongjoong as the latter rolled onto his back and gracefully climbed on top of him to rest on his chest.

Hongjoong caressed the cat’s back.

Maybe, and just maybe, Mars could be a little angel sometimes too and Wooyoung had only seen the devilish side of him. 

“It took me a whole month to stop getting anxious every time I came to class. I was used to my high school group and to knowing most of the faces I saw because all of us grew up together. Leaving all of that behind, including my friends who preferred to go to the university closer to our school, was tough.”

Before Wooyoung could ask, Hongjoong clarified, “I didn’t do it for Seonghwa or anything like that. The DJV medicine school is way better than the one we had there. It was just another crazy sign that he got admitted to his degree here too.”

San told Wooyoung less than a week ago that he liked all the little changes they had been adding to their relationship —the kisses, the domesticity, the nights together…— but what if that wasn’t enough? 

What if Wooyoung told him what had happened in high school and he still couldn’t understand why Wooyoung had been behaving like that?

“Seonghwa was always very supportive and assured me that I would find new friends at my  own pace.” Hongjoong glared at him, a soft smile on his lips. “He was, obviously, right, but I hated how me being so fucking socially awkward made him feel like he had to spend more time with me when he could have been having fun with his friends.”

Mars purred as Hongjoong scratched behind his ears.

“I don’t know. We started having problems because of that. I got very insecure and I felt like I was low-key forcing him to stay home with me because I wasn’t ever in the mood to go out with his friends.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I started turning down all our plans and giving him excuses to not meet up.”

“You never considered that he did all of that because he loved you? That’s… And then you just broke up one day?”

“One night he confessed to me that he had bailed on a photoshoot to be with me. It was for a project and after doing his part, he excused himself and left because he had noticed that I had been down lately and we hadn’t spent much time together.”

Wooyoung couldn’t even finish his sandwich, instead taking his mug and drinking again to see if the lump in his throat vanished. 

“That stressed you out.”

“ Yup . It made me feel so bad. Worst boyfriend of the year. So I… broke up with him less than two weeks later.”

“But did you explain to him…? What did you tell him?”

“Not much. My anxiety was a bitch and although I know that’s not an excuse, I let it get the best of me, I guess. I gave him a shitty explanation and wished that was enough for him to forget me.”

No wonder Seonghwa couldn’t even look at Wooyoung, considering Hongjoong barely shared his worries with him before running away, as if they hadn’t meant everything to each other for a long time. 

Wooyoung and San weren’t even together in public to begin with, and he had also spent an insane amount of time evading anything that came remotely close to his high school experience. 

He bet his cryptic answers gave Seonghwa flashbacks of what Hongjoong did to him at the end of their relationship.

That was so fucked. 

“But you haven’t forgotten him.”

“I haven’t even tried to forget him,” Hongjoong admitted. “I still check his Instagram and TikTok because I love to see his designs and…”

That was even more fucked.

“That’s why you never told me? Because you knew I would want to punch you hard enough to make your head spin?”

“I didn’t tell you because I’m ashamed, and because I don’t know what to do.”

Just when Wooyoung thought he was dense, Hongjoong came to steal the trophy. 

“You’ve never texted each other after fooling around or…?”

“We both know I’m the one who should message him but every time I think about it, I panic. But I miss him so much, Woo. I really wanted to kiss him back.”

“Yeosang should give you one of the speeches he gives me every time I self-sabotage.”

“What do you think I should do?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Talk? Tell him exactly what you’ve told me? I doubt Seonghwa doesn’t miss you just as much. From what I’ve seen, he’s very upfront, so if he tried to kiss you, that means something .”

Mars bit Hongjoong’s fingers, eliciting a gasp, and jumped to the floor to disappear in the direction of the living room. Wooyoung guessed he was hungry. 

“Joong, do you want him back?”

Hongjoong darted his gaze one more time, the silence giving Wooyoung the answer Hongjoong didn’t have the guts to say out loud. 

Wooyoung sighed and put the tray on the nightstand to lie down next to his friend. 

“I can’t offer anything different, just better management of my anxiety.”

“You could offer him some honesty. Tell him the truth. Tell him how you really felt back then and that you still love him. See how it goes.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “I didn’t know you were so good at giving romantic advice.”

“I haven’t told you to do anything I don’t already do with San,” Wooyoung commented. “Even if I haven’t told him everything yet, I try to be as honest as possible all the time.”

“How’s everything going with him?”

Wooyoung noticed the silly smile conquering his lips as he remembered the last weekend —the long bath, the night together, the morning sex holding onto each other, the domestic Sunday studying in his bedroom, eating leftovers and watching a movie with Yeosang and Jongho…

He couldn’t lose all of that. 

He needed to do things right and explain everything to San, promising him that eventually they would be able to do everything they wanted and more in public, but that he needed to keep taking little steps to not get paralysed again.

“Better. I’m going to talk to him next week.”

Hongjoong drew a proud smile. “That’s so good, Woo.”

*

Messages:

captain sannie [7:22]: 

u okay?

hwa messaged me last night too and told me what happened

sorry i never told u

i didn’t think it was my place

ru still w hj?

j. woo [10:41]: 

yeah sorry

last night i was so out of it

sorry for all the messages

i would have done the same if i was you

and yeah i’m still here with him

we had a long talk

how’s seonghwa?

captain sannie [11:10]: 

sad hurt mad

i dunno a mix

hes kinda hermetic when it comes to hongjoong

j. woo [11:15]: 

🙄

i told joong to talk to him

clear things up

fix the mess

captain sannie [11:17]: 

do u think he listened

j. woo [11:17]: 

i hope so

see you tomorrow for dinner like we said?

captain sannie [11:19]: 

yes 🤍 

***

“What is this shitty weather?” Yeonjun groaned as he zipped up his jacket. “They are going to get sick.”

“We saw them play under heavy rain last year and the next morning the only one that was sick was me,” Yeosang reminded him after letting out a cackle. “Jongho felt so bad he spent all his time at my flat taking care of me.”

“Until he got sick too,” Wooyoung added. 

Yeosang laughed again. “I still wonder how neither San nor you ever caught it.”

Wooyoung tilted his chin up, teasingly. “It’s not my fault if your immune system sucks.”

San and Wooyoung hadn’t officially met when that happened so once Jongho got sick too and locked himself in his own flat, it was relatively easy to keep the virus in their respective bedrooms. Wooyoung bet that if that happened today, they all would end up feverish in bed in less than two days, considering all the time he and San spent together.

“Coffee?” Wooyoung asked when they finally reached the bar. 

“And some chips!” 

Wooyoung scrunched up his nose, not wanting to judge the combination of flavours. He ordered two normal coffees, a decaffeinated one, the chips and some sweets, knowing damn well that he was going to end the match with cavities, because he would be anxious-eating from the first second to the last.

MST was such a tough opponent. They ended up in sixth place last year but Jongho had told them that with their new coach, their strategies had changed and they were much better than they were last season.

Yeosang walked towards their seats as he stuffed his mouth with chips. This time they actually bought tickets with Miyeon and her friends, so by the time they found where they were seated the girls were already occupying the row below. 

“You arrived early,” Wooyoung said as he gave Miyeon a back hug and smiled at Yuqi and Soyeon. 

“Shuhua told us that they had a new pre-show performance because it’s the quarterfinals match and we didn’t want to miss it,” she explained before gesturing towards the hoodies Yeosang and Wooyoung were wearing. “Jongho will run out of team clothes with you,” she joked. “Or did you cave in and finally buy some merch?”

Neither Yeosang nor Yeonjun were paying attention, they were already placing their regular bets in that app they both used where multiple people bet on the result of the match and depending on the amount of details you guessed right, you got different prices —free drinks for the next match, merchandising of your favourite team, a signed shirt…

Wooyoung burrowed inside the huge hoodie, getting smaller for a split second, vulnerable even. Yuqi and Soyeon weren’t listening either; it was just Miyeon and him. 

And it didn’t mean anything . Friends existed. If he didn’t clarify it, Miyeon was free to interpret it however she wanted. 

He needed to see how the words tasted on his tongue.

“I really should buy some merch one day. This is San’s, actually.”

Wooyoung swallowed, wishing for nothing more than to dig a hole in the ground and jump inside but instead he stood there, still and barely breathing, staring right into Miyeon’s eyes. 

Please, don’t ask any questions. Please, don’t ask any questions.

Miyeon smiled. “I also want to be friends with the football team so I can wear their clothes.”

Wooyoung took the fabric of Miyeon’s jacket between her fingers as air finally entered his lungs again.

“I could say the same thing about your cheerleaders team merch, though.”

“Eh, but this is mine. I bought Minnie’s hoodie and Shuhua’s jacket.”

“We both know I’ll end up buying football merch too.”

Miyeon shrugged, letting out a giggle, and turned around when Yuqi called her to ask if she wanted something warm to drink since there wasn’t anyone at the bar and Soyeon and her were going to grab something really quick. 

“I’ll go with you so I can check what food they have.” She looked at Wooyoung. “See you later, yeah? Please, call me if the pre-show starts.”

“I will.”

Wooyoung plopped down next to Yeosang, resting his chin on his best friend’s shoulder and glancing at the screen of Yeonjun’s phone while they both kept bickering about the bets they were placing that day.

They always bet on two different things so there were more chances to win.

“Yunho or San, Youngie?” Yeosang asked after they had decided on the amount of goals.

“Yunho.”

Yeonjun faked a gasp. “Betrayal. I’ll tell the captain.”

Wooyoung smacked Yeonjun’s shoulder and eventually, after weeks refusing to listen to their reasons to download the app, Wooyoung found himself placing his own bet.

DJV 1 - MST 0 

111’.

Choi San.

“Whipped,” Yeosang muttered. 

Wooyoung smacked Yeosang's shoulder too.

*

The pre-show performance was mesmerising . 

Both cheerleader teams did their routines impeccably, although Wooyoung’s attention wasn’t entirely focused on MST while they were performing, since he was also texting San to wish him luck and sending him his usual pre-match selfie.

He also took some pictures with Yeosang and Yeonjun, and replied to Hongjoong’s messages while they waited for the football teams to show up.

The music gradually changed and the commentator started talking again to finally announce them. 

It was the same introduction as every other match but the closer they were to the finals, the more excited Wooyoung was.

All of them cheered as the DJV team  positioned themselves on the pitch and Wooyoung smiled when he noticed how nervous San was. His posture was rigid and his lips were pressed into a thin line, hiding the silly dimples that Wooyoung loved so much.

Wooyoung glanced at the other team and the surprise rammed through him like a hurricane and left him in shambles. 

His nails dug into the material of the bag of sweets he was holding and his chest burnt , but not like earlier with Miyeon, where he could still sense the world around him and his lungs filling and emptying themselves; this time it hurt as if someone had sunk a knife above his sternum.

He would have recognised that side-smile even in his worst nightmares.

And the tattoo sleeve on the left arm, and the pointy nose, and the thick brows, and the mannerisms, and the way he moved as if he was the king of the entire place.

“Y-yeo,” he whispered. “Yeosang.”

Robotically, Wooyoung craned his head in his friend’s direction, putting more effort than it seemed into taking long, deep breaths as he left the sweet bag on Yeosang’s lap. 

“What’s the name of MST’s new coach?”

“Huh. Lee something. Jongho never told me his name.”

His hand trembled over Yeosang’s thigh. 

“Could you check it?”

Yeonjun also stared at him when he heard Wooyoung’s shaky voice.

“Is everything okay, Woo?” 

Wooyoung shook his head, opening and closing his fingers around Yeosang’s leg to stay present and not hide in a corner of his head like he used to do some time ago. It had taken him so much effort to stop shutting down his mind with all of this.

He didn’t want to disconnect.

But it would be so easy to just let go of that feeling that was constricting his guts and filling his eyes with tears. It would be so fucking lovely to feel nothing instead of that raw disgust that had plagued his entire self.

“It’s him.”

Yeosang grabbed his hand. 

“What.”

“The coach. It’s him. Hyeon.”

As they were talking, Yeonjun was opening Instagram and searching the official account of the MST team to find the name of the coach, but Wooyoung didn’t actually need it. He hadn’t forgotten that fucking face.

He didn’t even need to close his eyes to hear his mocking laugh in his head.

“Shit,” Yeonjun cursed. “Lee Hyeon. I’m… shit.”

“Do you want to leave?” Yeosang asked.

“I think… I think I can do it.”

The last thing Wooyoung wanted was to give Hyeon the same power he used to have in the past. It had been a few years since they crossed paths for the last time at that frat party, it was unfair that he still had any type of effect on Wooyoung.

For how long was he going to be paying for the mistakes he made?

Would it end someday?

Because the nightmares kept coming back from time to time and talking about everything that happened was something that still choked him up and made him feel cold and dead inside, as if all life was sucked out of his body and he was just an empty shell with nothing to offer. 

A toy, even.

An old, boring, replaceable, broken toy that was only fun until the spoilt child that was playing with him found something better.

Soon, he would be the age Hyeon was when they had met for the first time and, just like it had happened when he was Junseo’s age and he couldn’t understand why a college student would go after someone who was fourteen years old, Wooyoung could already predict that he wouldn’t understand Hyeon’s actions either.

How could someone think that it was funny to bet on the feelings of someone else?

Why would someone wake up one day and decide with his friends that he was going to conquer the heart of the popular boy of the nearby high school that always attended all the football matches, just to prove that he could pull whoever he wanted and to brag about being the first love of said boy?

Now that he could actually compare, Wooyoung would love to talk to his younger self to tell him that Hyeon wasn’t showing genuine interest. He always switched topics when Wooyoung tried to share something private or shushed him with kisses and compliments.

Hyeon never made him feel safe enough to just be .

Whereas San opened his arms, called him “angel” and protected him from the entire world without waiting for Wooyoung to ask for it.

He had been so damn blind. So needy of a little sparkle of affection and attention. He thrived hearing the comments, the whispers, the jealousy and the arguments because it filled a void that he could only pinpoint after the fame had ravaged him. 

Hyeon made everything too public for his own entertainment —they posted Instagram Stories, pictures, videos, went out every week and kissed in front of everyone, held fucking hands for months. 

And yet, he never wanted to stay too long when they were in private. 

He didn’t seek intimacy, just fed the popularity that was consuming them both.

His friends played the game too, though —they commented on their posts, reacted to their Instagram Stories, pretended to like Wooyoung, invited him to their hang-outs…

Distantly, like a memory that wasn’t even his own, Wooyoung remembered how Hyeon had tricked him into getting a lower back tattoo. Or how he had confessed during that fateful night that his friends had read most of their conversations, even the ones where they were sexting.

“But I kept the pictures just between you and me, baby. I thought that would have been too much.”

As if he had expected Wooyoung to thank him for having a little, minuscule, almost non-existent amount of decency. 

“Wooyoung.”

He blinked, slowly.

“Hm?”

“Let’s go get you some water. Move a little bit.”

Wooyoung could hear the match in the background but it was already tough enough to nod at Yeosang and stand up to follow him to the bar. Yeosang was holding his hand, his thumb caressing the back of Wooyoung’s hand whilst he walked at a steady pace.

It was so maddening. 

I hate him.

Hyeon was coaching the other team, ignoring the fact that, because of him, someone felt close to relapsing, even if Wooyoung knew that this wasn’t the same as before; it wasn’t like the other times he had dived too deep into his head and had struggled to find his way back to the surface.

This time, he remembered the different tricks he had found online that had worked in the past. So he held onto Yeosang tightly and kept walking. 

“What are you doing after the match?” He whispered after Yeosang ordered the water.

Distractions worked, too. Forcing himself to talk about something else kept the other thoughts at bay. 

“Since today’s match is so early, I’ll have lunch with Jongho and then finish the assignment I told you about the other day.”

Yeosang opened the bottle of water and handed it to Wooyoung.

They both were aware of the non-existent healing properties of water during an episode like this one but Wooyoung appreciated it regardless. It cleared his throat enough to not feel like there was something obstructing it.

“And then later I’ll go to the club where they are celebrating today’s results. You know, the private party at Jeonghan’s uncle’s club.”

Wooyoung nodded. “Miyeon told me that Mingi and Yunho approached Yuqi a few days ago to convince her to be their DJ too in exchange for free drinks and free tickets for the next couple of matches.”

“Yeah. I think Seungkwan convinced his parents to pay her.” Yeosang guided Wooyoung to the corner of the bar where they could still see the television with the live stream of the match, although Wooyoung wasn’t looking at it. “It seems like his family is pretty wealthy so I don’t think they suffered paying Yuqi.”

What Wooyoung probably hated the most was the sensation that he never recovered enough. The guilt had got better but it was still there . The memories didn’t sting as much as before but they still felt like a punch. And the idea of being open about everything that happened hadn’t stopped being terrifying. 

From time to time, Yeosang brought up going to therapy and although Wooyoung was painfully convinced that talking to a therapist would be the only way of navigating all of this, he had always been so scared.

This had to be the first time that the thought popped up in his head and Wooyoung didn’t feel like screaming inside.

“I’m not sure I can go back to our seats,” Wooyoung confessed, quietly and ashamed after a few minutes. “Sorry.”

Yeosang smiled and took his phone. “It’s okay. Do you want to go home?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Can we go to the bar around the corner and watch the live stream on my phone? I don’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”

“Me neither,” Yeonjun said, showing up from behind Yeosang’s figure. 

Wooyoung blinked, feeling too slow for a world that seemed to be running at light speed. 

“When did you…?”

Yeonjun pointed at the door after giving Yeosang his coffee. “I was at the entrance waiting for Yeosang to say something.” He offered Wooyoung his disposable cup. “I told Miyeon that something came up and that we would see her tonight at the private party.”

His head timidly accommodated against Yeonjun’s shoulder as he hummed.

“Thank you.”

In the past, Yeosang had told him that he had been too stuck in his head to realise how many people actually cared for him and would drop everything just to sit next to him and keep him company while the storm went away.

When Yeonjun wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss on the top of his head, Wooyoung smiled to himself and wondered how the hell Yeosang could always be right.

It had to be a supernatural power of guardian angels, even when they were in human form.

“So, where are we going?” Yeonjun asked.

***

Watching the match through the live stream was definitely safer than staying on their seats. However, every time Hyeon’s face filled the screen, Wooyoung wished he could punch someone through his phone. 

To make things worse, the result of the match ended up in the teams going to extra time, so he had to endure the possibility of seeing Hyeon again for another half an hour. 

At first, Yeonjun and Yeosang made no comments about him but during the break between the regular time and the extra one, when the camera suddenly zoomed in on San lacing his boots and drinking some water, Yeonjun commented as he munched on his chips:

“You gotta admit you stepped up your game when you met San.”

Yeosang choked on his drink and it took Wooyoung way too long to get the real meaning of what Yeonjun was saying. 

But when he got it, his first reaction was letting out a soft giggle.

“I really did. San is playing his own game in his own league.”

Yeosang cooed. “Every day I wonder how it could take you so long to realise you were in love with him.”

Wooyoung took a sip of water and didn’t even stop the smile from blooming on his lips. 

“I know why and yet I still wonder the same thing.”

Yeonjun pointed at him. “Eh, since when are we dropping the L word like that?”

*

Wooyoung switched his weight from one foot to the other as they waited for their group. For once, they weren’t right at the entrance to avoid the possibility of seeing Hyeon from up close though that didn’t mean it was completely impossible to see him from where they were.

Hopefully, with the amount of people leaving the venue, if they kept talking to each other, even if Hyeon walked near them they would miss it. 

It had been enough to deal with his sudden presence. Wooyoung wasn’t mentally prepared to see him . 

His mind was craving the same safety he had felt in previous matches, the need to kick the unsettling feelings as far as possible growing by the second, until Wooyoung started considering scratching at his skin until the sensation that covered his entire body was gone.

As if that was actually possible.

As if his anxiety hadn’t made him scratch his skin before until he had bruises on it.

“Hey,” San said whilst Jongho gave Yeosang a back hug. “We misunderstood your message and ended up at the other bar,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let me text the rest just in case.”

“I sent Soobin a picture,” Yeonjun commented. “Congrats on the win,” he said as he friendly punched Jongho and San’s arms. 

“Yeah, why aren’t you screaming and jumping?” Yeosang said as he wrapped his arms around Jongho’s waist. “I would be annoying the entire neighbourhood.”

“We were talking in the locker room and many of us were so convinced that we wouldn’t win that we are not really… y’know,” San shrugged. “I really thought they were going to score a goal during the extra time, like they have done in the past two matches.”

“Woo bet you were going to score your goal during the extra time,” Yeonjun pointed out, gesturing towards him. “So blame him for the long torture. He cursed you.”

Wooyoung smiled. “I got a feeling.”

“Did you win the bet, Wooyo?” If Jongho had noticed that he sounded slightly distressed, he didn’t address it. “It’s the least you can do after putting that fate upon us.”

Now that he was surrounded by his friends, Wooyoung could fully confirm that he had calmed down almost entirely, but, sadly, calming down didn’t go hand in hand with gaining all his energy back, quite the contrary —he felt drained and was dreaming about curling up in his bed, away from that place.

“Almost. I thought you would score your goal later than you did.”

“It’s the rookie luck,” Yeonjun muttered, dramatically. 

San casually moved until he was next to Wooyoung whilst the rest talked about the party they were having that night. Wooyoung was nodding here and there, mostly to indicate to Yeosang that he was still listening and not lost in his thoughts. 

He just didn’t have any energy to actively engage in the conversation. 

Standing there was already challenging enough. 

He tilted his head up when he noticed that San wasn’t saying anything either and found the captain glancing at him, the questions he hadn’t asked out loud shining inside his dark eyes. Wooyoung smiled at him and San replied with a twin smile with dimples included. 

His fingers twitched inside the pockets of his jacket, the impulsive thought filling his head until not even his fears were visible anymore. 

His safe space wasn’t only his flat.

And he needed it so badly .

The consequences could come later. He would deal with them in the future.

It wasn’t the moment to consider how stupid his idea was, but to be selfish enough to take what he wanted, even if that was something as simple as San’s closeness.

Quietly, his arms curled around San’s body and his head rested against San’s chest. No words left his mouth in the process, he just moved and smiled wider once San overcame his own shock to shyly circle Wooyoung’s shoulders with his arm, his thumb automatically drawing circles over Wooyoung’s skin. 

There weren't any kisses either, Wooyoung wasn’t looking for any of that.

His eyes fluttered closed and a relieved sigh escaped his mouth. 

Safety was also an undefined place situated between San’s arms.

So, for once, if people wanted to talk, so be it. He deserved this warmth. 

“Better?” San asked several minutes later, after the rest of their group had joined them and while all of them were engrossed in different conversations, walking to the bus stop. 

It was so comforting that San never tried to pry; his priority was Wooyoung’s wellbeing and it was Wooyoung’s choice to decide how much he was willing to share.

Wooyoung nodded. “Thank you.”

Sorry for not telling you.

“And congrats on the victory, captain,” he added in a whisper, still wrapped around him. He had no will to put space between them considering how good it felt to have San’s arm around his shoulders. 

San hugged him closer and Wooyoung cursed himself because it would be so stupidly easy to tilt his head and slide their lips together, but this was his limit. Even in his most vulnerable state, he still remembered that there were things he wasn’t prepared to do yet.

“Are you…” San cleared his throat. “Are you coming tonight?”

A few days ago, San had casually invited him to their private party. He had explained to him in detail that Jeonghan’s uncle was the owner of a club but that, since they were renovating the second floor, it would be closed to the public for a whole month, starting from that week. 

Apparently, for Jeonghan, that had been a clear invitation to celebrate their upcoming victories or defeats there, so he met his uncle and gave him such a convincing speech that in less than an hour he had accepted. The only condition was that the team had to clean the entire place the day after the party and that they had to take their own drinks. 

Wooyoung had replied that he would think about it, not wanting to give San any kind of false hope, though his heart had been beating as if he had promised the captain a whole life together instead.

“I want to,” Wooyoung admitted. “I’ll text you.”

He pulled back ever so slightly, his arms loosening but his body staying close to San’s while he searched for his eyes.

“Will you dress up?” 

Wooyoung had been fantasising about that party since San had invited him. He had pictured the captain wearing those tight clothes he usually wore at parties. He had imagined himself eating him up with his eyes and devouring him with his mouth in a dark corner, where they had no witnesses of all the things Wooyoung wanted to do to him.

Letting the opportunity go because of Hyeon would be infuriating.

“Maybe,” San murmured as they stopped by the bus stop, the queue before them immense and loud, even though Wooyoung could only hear San’s voice. 

Did it seem like they were flirting?

Did it seem like something was going on between them?

Were people staring at them?

Wooyoung didn’t spare a glance to check. Instead, his gaze dropped to San’s lips for a split second as San drew a smug grin. 

“Do you want me to send you pics?”

His tone was nonchalant, friendly. 

His real intentions, however? Deadly.

San had sent him outfit check pictures before and in the past few months they had been far from innocent. The angles were always so sinful that Wooyoung tended to forget too easily that he was supposed to give him some decent feedback. 

“Do you still need to ask me that question?”

His chest felt so much lighter since the match had ended, their friends had gathered and San had hugged him. And it was just lunch time. 

Wooyoung believed in himself to be able to keep his mind under control until the party. 

San lowered his voice, the sound around them muffling their conversation.

“I love the look on your face every time I ask you.”

Wooyoung turned his head, the shivers falling down his spine and the blush creeping up his face at embarrassing speed. His eyes found Yeosang’s, who was already looking at them with raised eyebrows, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes in response.

He realised then that, apart from his best friend, nobody was actually paying attention to them.

So Wooyoung snuggled up into San’s warmth a bit more.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard?
You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart.”

Crystal Coven was one of Wooyoung’s favourite clubs in town. He was used to going there because Yeonjun was obsessed with it. The decoration was inspired by an antique magic potions shop and their cocktails were served in very particular ways and had names that were also inspired by witches, tarot and spells. 

Wooyoung felt like entering another dimension every time he came. It was so aesthetic . So beautiful. And the toilets were completely out of this world with their red walls, the huge mirrors and the peculiarly shaped stalls. 

“San told me that they would arrive late,” Wooyoung said as he walked towards the back door with Yeosang. Yeonjun and Soobin were already inside, and the rest of their friends were on their way. 

It was a party for cheerleaders, football players and their close friends or partners, and since Miyeon and her group would be there too because Yuqi was the DJ, the only person Wooyoung would miss was Hongjoong. 

But his friend’d had enough partying after the fiasco of the last time.

He had also promised Yeosang that he would let him know if he started getting anxious again and needed to leave, so Wooyoung almost felt as if that morning had never happened. 

Almost.

His energy wasn’t the best and he knew that his mood was extremely volatile but he believed he would be able to enjoy the night regardless.

“Yeah, Jongho told me that it took them a thousand years to cook dinner and get ready because they were being lazy.”

Wooyoung nodded, raising his arm to wave at Mingi and Yunho, who were at the door, checking everyone that tried to come inside. The back door had a code but Wooyoung guessed they were making sure nobody had forgotten it or, better said, that nobody that shouldn’t be here was trying to sneak in. 

“Lookin’ hot tonight, huh?” Mingi praised after whistling at them. 

Yeosang was wearing ripped black jeans with a black top that had strings ruching it from the collarbones to the hem, exposing the bare skin hidden underneath and letting his tempting sternum tattoo peek through. His green and black hair was wavy and it matched with his make-up, which was also green and black around his eyes.

Wooyoung was mentally preparing Jongho’s funeral. 

Wooyoung was wearing a black and blue crop top with long sleeves tightly wrapped around his arms, the fabric barely covering his chest and leaving no space for imagination. But the worst part was how his leather pants hugged his ass and his thighs. Wooyoung had picked the outfit a few days prior and he refused to change it, despite how disgusted and anxious he had felt since they came home after the match.

He wanted to feel pretty. 

He wanted San looking only at him.

“A celebration deserves a good outfit,” Yeosang replied with a wink.

“See you inside?” That was Wooyoung.

“Yeah. It’ll be Hyunjin and Seungmin’s turn soon.”

They both nodded and stepped into the mystical atmosphere of Crystal Coven. It didn’t matter if the club wasn’t officially open, Jeonghan had set the lights up just like they used to be each night, so the vibe hadn’t changed one bit.

A remix of Barbie Girl was playing while Yeosang and Wooyoung moved through the club to get to the bar, where Yeonjun had told them that the booze and the rest of the drinks were. All of them had to put in a certain amount of money so Changbin, Felix, Mingyu and Taehyun could buy the beverages for all of them. 

Yuqi and Soyeon were at the DJ table, testing Yuqi’s equipment before she started her session for the night. They waved at them when their eyes met and Wooyoung chuckled the moment his eyes landed on Miyeon, Minnie and Shuhua, who were dancing in front of the table exaggeratedly to make the couple laugh.

“What do you want, Woo?” Yeosang said as he walked around the bar to take two plastic cups and drop some ice cubes into them. 

“Lemonade with a little bit of vodka, not much. I don’t have the head for it tonight.”

Yeosang prepared their drinks whilst Wooyoung’s gaze wandered the club to find Soobin’s blonde hair. After a long minute, he finally spotted him with Yeonjun and a few cheerleaders whose name Wooyoung didn’t know.

Yuqi introduced herself when Wooyoung was almost done with his first cup, his body swaying to the rhythm of the music while he listened to a very excited Felix, who was updating Wooyoung and Yeosang on his latest date with his not-boyfriend-but-boyfriend Hyunjin. 

Almost everyone seemed to have arrived but Jongho and San were still nowhere to be found. Wooyoung wasn’t concerned, it was also rewarding to be with his friend group . The very same friend group that had been patient with him since his first year of college. 

Wooyoung regretted not having given them a real chance sooner, always keeping a clear emotional distance between him and them.

“Did he finally kiss you or did he chicken out again?” Yeosang asked with a mischievous grin. 

“I kissed him ,” Felix confessed in a giggle. “And he short-circuited.”

“Are you telling them about Hyunjin?” Beomgyu interrupted as he held Felix’s shoulders from behind and guided his smaller body to follow the music with his own. “Tae told me that he was a fucking mess yesterday telling him about the date.”

Felix craned his head to look at the other cheerleader. 

“Was he?”

“Can confirm,” Taehyun said, taking Beomgyu’s cup to drink from it. “He described your outfit like… I dunno. Too many times. You broke him.”

“We will always remember him,” Beomgyu faked a sob. 

“Another man that falls victim to Lee Felix’s charm,” Yeosang dramatised, too. 

Felix moved his head adorably, still dancing with Beomgyu.

“He thought he could resist me.”

They all laughed and Wooyoung made a mental note to ask Yeosang tomorrow morning about the beginning of the story between Felix and the football player, because, apparently, his useless brain had deleted all information related to it and the only thing he could recall was that they had been going on cute dates for three weeks.

He gulped down the rest of his drink and motioned to the bar to indicate to Yeosang that he was going to refill it. Since the place wasn’t crowded, he could go by himself and find his friends easily afterwards. 

Wooyoung kneeled behind the bar and added a few ice cubes to his cup.

Someone cleared his throat from the other side and Wooyoung made the mistake of not tilting up his head to check who was trying to get his attention.

“Do you want some ice cubes too, Yeo?” Wooyoung asked loudly, convinced that his best friend was the one leaning against the bar.

“I’d prefer a beer,” a voice that was certainly not Yeosang’s replied.

Wooyoung raised to his feet in a second when he recognised San.

And it was a miracle that he didn’t fall back to the floor once he could check his outfit properly, because even though Wooyoung had already seen the winning outfit in previous pictures, San didn’t send him a single picture of the whole thing before leaving his flat.

Fuck.

His fingers clumsily set a beer on the wooden counter.

Part of San’s red hair was slicked back, only a few strands falling over his face. His feline eyes looked hypnotising, framed by smokey-eye make-up that had his knees buckling. He was, indeed, wearing the long denim jumpsuit he had shown him in the pictures but the long zip that ran from the neck to the hips was only half done, revealing a freaking harness crossing his chest.

“Huh,” Wooyoung let out, struggling to look back at San’s face. “Hi?”

His gaze flitted to the ring on San's finger and he unconsciously brushed his own necklace. 

“Hi, princess.”

A side effect of not going out with San was that dolled up San always caught him off guard. He was already one of the most breath-taking men Wooyoung’d had the pleasure to lay eyes on, but he would be lying if he said that San didn’t look even more attractive like this.

If they were alone at the club, he would grab his harness and pull him in until they could kiss against the counter.

“Hi,” he repeated, like an idiot.

Wooyoung poured some vodka into his own cup and filled the rest of it with lemonade, considering for a moment levelling up his alcohol dose to be able to handle the surreal sight that San was. 

How could he be so obsessed with him?

So damn whipped.

He walked around the counter to meet San on the other side and his breath hitched when he could admire the whole outfit properly. His impressive body proportions stood out as much as his sharp facial features. 

Wooyoung drank. 

Nobody was near them so, in some way, they could play the game of being friends. The game of having a regular conversation like the one he was having with Felix, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Yeosang before coming over to the bar.

“You look so hot,” Wooyoung uttered, running out of breath, seriously debating how wrong it would be to drag San out of that place to kiss him. “You didn’t show me that harness.”

“Little surprise.” San smirked and the tip of his fingers casually touched Wooyoung’s bare abdomen. “I’m not going to tell you how you look in those pants.”

Wooyoung’s stomach clenched, his teeth torturing his lower lip as he stepped closer. 

“Hope you tell me later, when I have you all to myself.”

“Are you coming home with me tonight?” San asked, his voice too sultry to be in a place where Wooyoung couldn’t do any of the things that were flooding his mind. 

“I was hoping so.” Wooyoung held his cup with both his hands to keep himself from playing with the zipper of San’s jumpsuit. “I want to wake up next to you again.”

San’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes slightly lidded as he stared at Wooyoung’s mouth while he spoke. Wooyoung recognised in his gaze the same restraint that was poorly keeping him under control.

“You look better now.” Lips curled over the beer can. “I know you said you’d come but I wasn’t sure after seeing you this morning.”

Wooyoung smiled without showing his teeth, his nails softly scratching his cheek.

San was always so thoughtful. It didn’t matter if they both were doing their best not to kiss against the bar counter or if he had just won a match, if he thought Wooyoung wasn’t doing well, that was his new priority.

“I couldn’t miss this. Getting into the semifinals is a lot.”

San instinctively raised his arm when a dark strand fell over Wooyoung’s nose after he moved his head to the side, still smiling. His hand froze between them as Wooyoung raised his own hand to push the strand back, their fingers brushing before San’s went back to his can.

Where did he want the new boundary to be? 

Because under the neon lights, his heart talked louder than his brain and it was so tough to define a line that they had both blurred day after day. 

Wooyoung wasn’t prepared to deal with rumours or with people knowing his name because he was caught kissing the captain of the football team at a party… but he was so tired of pretending San wasn’t plaguing his mind all the damn time.

Seeing Hyeon today had been a nightmare because it had been unexpected; Wooyoung would sell his soul to never see the other man again. But it had thrown so much light over his fears, making them look smaller and less scary.

It had made Wooyoung seriously wonder if such a douchebag deserved to have any kind of effect on his current relationship with San. 

If he had never gone through those experiences, perhaps, now he would still have an Instagram account and it would be filled with San’s pictures. Perhaps, they would already hold hands and peck each other’s lips every time Wooyoung waited for San to finish his training to go back to either of their flats together.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

“Sorry for hugging you all of a sudden in public,” Wooyoung muttered. 

The strand fell over Wooyoung’s face again and San’s hand was faster this time, softly tucking it behind Wooyoung’s ear and making Wooyoung’s skin break into goosebumps.

“Y’know you can do whatever you want. I’m not kissing you right now because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wooyoung groaned.

“I don’t want to mess with my anxiety even more today but…” He finally caved in and played with the zipper, pulling it down to reveal the harness even more. “I wish you could read my mind so you could know all the things I want to do to you.”

San laughed before drinking again.

“You demon, I’m going to greet the rest of my teammates before I drag you to a toilet stall.”

Wooyoung pulled the zipper up again. “I wouldn’t mind.”

*

Sadly, like the popular captain that he was, Wooyoung didn’t have the pleasure to have San near again until much later, and he regretted having even missed him whilst he greeted the other players and the cheerleaders, because now he was grinding against Mingi’s body with a shit-eating grin hanging from his mouth.

Attractive people shouldn’t be aware of the power they held.

San had his fingers hooked around the straps of his harness with his legs bent, his hips still swaying even when he was crouching down in front of his friend. 

Wooyoung vaguely recognised the song that Yuqi was playing, he could only tell that it was in Spanish and that it was one of those songs that Felix and Yeonjun played at his flat when they all were getting ready to go out. 

San’s hands gripped Mingi’s knees, trailing his legs up as he stood up again, and Wooyoung felt his throat getting dry when the freaking denim hugged San’s figure, from his narrow waist to that ass that he would like to knead while San did all those sickening moves with him.

Yeosang chuckled beside him. 

“You are not subtle, you know?”

Wooyoung took a sip. “I’m just looking.”

“You are fucking him with your eyes, Wooyoung.”

Mingi made San twirl and wrapped his arms around him as his chest met San’s back, both of them laughing at the whole show they were putting on all of a sudden. San’s fingers pulled the zipper down and he lolled his head back to rest it against Mingi’s shoulder, shooting a glance in Wooyoung’s direction as he smirked again.

God .

“Is it bad if I don’t care too much ?” Wooyoung murmured, checking San out shamelessly while the captain was still looking at him. 

If San was trying to catch his attention, Wooyoung would give it to him. 

After such a bad morning, he needed a good night.

And even if he hadn’t had a bad morning, San hadn’t dressed up for nothing. He deserved to be praised, kissed and cherished. Wooyoung was happy to oblige.

“It’s good. Changbin and I saw you earlier at the bar hitting on him.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow when San pushed his ass back to grind again against Mingi.

“Does he know?”

“Binnie? He knows that you hang out and that you are closer than it seems, but it’s not…” Yeosang leaned in so he could whisper against Wooyoung’s ear. “It’s hard to miss how you gravitate towards each other when you are not stopping yourself.”

San turned around again and threw an arm over Mingi’s shoulder while the latter moved closer to cage one of San’s legs between his own, his whole body moving in a sinful way that would have made Wooyoung wonder if Mingi liked San if it wasn’t because he knew better.

“I don’t want to keep lying to them either. I’m so… tired.”

Yeosang left a quick kiss on Wooyoung’s cheek. 

“You’ve never lied. You’ve just been really private,” he reminded him. 

The song came to an end and San glanced at him one last time before disappearing in the direction of the toilets. He didn’t explicitly invite Wooyoung to follow him yet Wooyoung decided to take the initiative. 

Wooyoung kissed Yeosang back and handed him his empty cup. “And you’ve always been too patient and understanding with me. I’m going to make sure San doesn’t get lost going to the toilets.”

“Have fun.”

The club had two different toilets, ones on the current floor and others downstairs. Jeonghan’s uncle told them that since the part that was getting renovated was the second floor and not the part downstairs, that they could use both toilets, though, from what Wooyoung had seen, it didn’t seem like most people at that party were aware of the existence of them.

San practically flew between the people and moved towards the stairs, not looking behind him but likely imagining that Wooyoung was following him. 

Wooyoung saw him push the toilet door open and sneaked in behind him without letting it close. His back leaned against the wooden surface for a second, checking that, luckily for them, nobody was in there.

With dark eyes and a grin on his lips, he stood behind San, their eyes locking through the mirror as Wooyoung pressed his half-hard cock against the captain’s body. The latter parted his lips to take a deep breath and Wooyoung’s hand quietly snaked around his figure to take the zipper and pull it down completely.

“You don’t know what you are doing to me,” Wooyoung confessed, mentally thanking the owners of the club because the music wasn’t as loud inside the toilets so they didn’t have to yell or to talk into each other’s ears to hear each other. 

It was exhilarating to tell him all of this in that toilet. Not because Wooyoung liked the idea of anyone walking in on them, but because it was so new that it was as if he had never longed for San as much as that night.

He was starving .

“Looking like this,” he mewled, still playing with the zip. “Dancing like that.”

Although they weren’t shy to admit to the other how unavoidable their attraction had always been, this territory was completely unexplored. Dressing up was something that barely happened between them. Wooyoung was accustomed to every hoodie of San’s, to the shape of his glasses and to how much the captain liked when his sweatpants hung low on his hips. 

But this outfit? This was like a dream.

Wooyoung pressed his palm against San’s bare abdomen, his fingers trailing up until they found the straps of the harness. 

“I wanted you to look at me,” San murmured, still, with half-closed eyes and his fingers gripping the ceramic sink. 

“Been doing that since you arrived.”

San licked his lips when Wooyoung’s free hand pulled at the fabric covering one of his shoulders, the couple of fading hickeys not only covering the area but also spreading burning heat all over Wooyoung's body.

He mouthed the marks as he walked back, guiding San.

“Everyday it gets harder to pretend I’m not thinking about you all the time,” Wooyoung whispered over the skin before pinning San to the wall of the stall and closing it behind them. 

He grabbed the harness again and pulled San closer until their lips brushed.

San shouldn’t be so pliant, it was starting to get into Wooyoung’s head.

“What would you do?” San asked, his tongue tracing the seam of Wooyoung’s mouth. “If you could stop pretending.”

Tell everyone that I love you .

Their lips touched with each word when Wooyoung replied.

“I’d jump into your arms after your matches. And I’d kiss you while you carry me,” he started whilst his hand cupped the tent between San’s legs through the fabric. “I’d take you to my favourite restaurant and I wouldn’t let you pay.”

Wooyoung whimpered when San gripped his hips and pulled him forward so he could grind against San’s thigh. 

“And I’d dance with you at parties, even if everyone could see how you make me lose my mind with every one of your moves.”

San unbuttoned Wooyoung’s leather trousers as he gave him a peck. 

“We wouldn’t finish a single song because I would be kissing you,” San pointed out, his head turning to the side when Wooyoung scattered kisses down his neck. 

“I want to,” Wooyoung said in a strained voice as he came back to San’s mouth to kiss him.

“Hm?” 

Wooyoung pulled at the fabric covering his other shoulder and slid the upper part of the jumpsuit down San’s body without breaking the kiss. 

“I want to do all those things.”

If it was only a little bit easier. 

Just a little bit.

San bit his jaw. 

“I don’t want you to think…” His voice trailed off, a moan escaping his mouth when San tortured the beginning of his throat. “If you only give me some more time, I promise …”

If it depended on Wooyoung, he would have taken the step many weeks ago. He wouldn’t have San locked in a stall, where people could guess what was happening but nobody could see.

San wasn’t his dirty little secret nor something Wooyoung wanted to hide under a rug. 

After that morning, Wooyoung felt even more pissed than usual about it. Maybe, that was why he had followed him like this and was now devouring him without paying attention to the possible noises in the toilets.

He had been able to be so open and public with someone that didn’t deserve anything. He wanted to offer San the same, if not more.  

San’s hands framed his face to stop him for a second.

Their eyes locked. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” San promised. “I won’t lie to you and tell you that it’s easy to not know what’s happening or that it’s easy to not touch you and kiss you like I’m doing now, but I’m here. And I’ll still be here tomorrow, and next week, and next month because I…”

Wooyoung waited, but San never finished his sentence, his thumbs caressing his cheeks whilst his dimples popped up.

“What did I do to deserve you, San?”

“Don’t say that.”

Kiss. 

“But…”

Kiss.

“ Don’t. ”

Wooyoung tied his insecurities around his bones and opted to walk away from the dangerous conversation they were having before he blurted out how in love with him he was whilst they were locked in the stall. 

He had deleted the messages the night of Hongjoong’s birthday precisely because San deserved a good confession. With a homemade dinner and some aromatic candles. With Wooyoung taking his hand between his fingers to place his heart in his palm. 

He deserved more than a message and more than a questionably clean stall. 

So Wooyoung descended down San’s body with his mouth whilst his hands pulled San’s shaft out of his underwear. He sucked on his nipple after taking him in his palm and smiled against his stomach when San squirmed against the wall.

“W-what are you…?” San heaved, shuddering when Wooyoung’s tongue flickered over his navel. “Wooyoung, we are in a… We don’t…”

As if he hadn’t unzipped Wooyoung’s trousers earlier.

Wooyoung was so fucking smitten.

“I want you in my mouth.” The medical student raised his gaze. “Unless you don’t want to…?”

San had been so eager earlier that Wooyoung had assumed, perhaps wrongly, that he was as into making out in the stall as Wooyoung was. 

“Should I stop?” He asked, already on his knees, with his mouth close to San’s crotch.

San carded his fingers through Wooyoung’s long strands, shaking his head.

“I’m so close just seeing you like this,” was San’s answer.

Wooyoung lapped at the head, collecting the precum on his tongue.

“Don’t warn me before you cum.”

His lips kissed from the tip to the base before he dragged his tongue up again, his head hovering above it as he opened his mouth to spit on it. His hand smeared the saliva along the shaft and Wooyoung smirked when he heard San saying his name as if it was a curse.

He looked up again, his hand stroking him in slow motions.

“Do you remember that night after summer break…” Wooyoung murmured. “When we went partying but we weren’t together so we met later at my flat and you looked so good that I asked you to…”

“Shit.” San traced Wooyoung’s lips with his thumb. “Do I look that good tonight?”

Wooyoung caught San's thumb between his lips.

He was so desperate . And it wasn’t because of the sex. Again, it was about the closeness. It was about taking another step, about loving him as publicly as he could. It was just him succumbing to San one more time, willingly; happily, even.

They hadn’t even finished in the toilets and Wooyoung could already tell that it wouldn’t be enough and that he would kiss him breathless again the moment they were alone in San’s place. 

“I feel like the combination of the jumpsuit, the make-up and the harness made me stupid.”

“Have you been thinking about me fucking your mouth since you saw me?”

“Among other things.”

San chuckled as he tilted his head back for a second.

“You are going to be the end of me someday, princess.”

His hand closed around the base of his cock and he guided it towards Wooyoung’s mouth after a few seconds. Wooyoung braced himself, grabbing San’s thighs, and kept looking at San while he opened his mouth for him. 

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” San muttered. “Tap my legs if you want me to pull out.”

The fingers of his other hand coaxed Wooyoung’s jaw to open even further as he slowly thrust inside. Wooyoung felt in a trance, staring at him and letting the captain set the pace. San knew his limits and how deep he could take him, so Wooyoung wasn’t concerned about him taking it too far.

Wooyoung hummed around the length when San fisted his hair to keep him in place, his hips rolling over and over, his cock stretching his mouth and almost hitting the back of his throat. His eyes lost focus after San tightened the grip, his moan muffled and his hand unconsciously trailing down his body until his fingers were wrapped around his own throbbing cock.

His eyes watered as San sped up, grunting and moaning above him, San’s muscles clenched, his hand almost hurting Wooyoung's scalp.

“Fuck,” San growled. “Are you touching yourself? Fuck, Woo. ”

It was ironic how, even though San was using his mouth as if he was a toy, Wooyoung couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved him; about the huge trust he put in him every day, to the point of asking him to fuck his mouth in a freaking toilet stall in the middle of a party because he couldn’t wait until they got to San’s flat. 

Wooyoung loved knowing that once they both reached their climax, San would pepper kisses along his jaw and fix his most likely ruined make-up whilst Wooyoung kept his mouth shut to not blurt out something he didn’t want to say yet.

If it wasn’t because his lips were around San’s shaft, he would laugh. 

Feeling like a toy wasn’t that bad when it was like this.

San’s moves grew sloppy, the captain chasing his orgasm while Wooyoung tried to catch up to him so they could enjoy the freefall together. 

“You feel so good,” San babbled in a low voice. “Shit. You close?”

Wooyoung focused his gaze to stare at San, nodding ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” San breathed, looking like a god among humans with his jumpsuit around his hips and his upper body completely bare except for the harness, as he flexed his muscles with every thrust. “Then cum with me, angel.”

There it was —the new nickname he had used just a couple of times since that evening where Wooyoung had ended up sobbing against San’s chest.

Wooyoung let out a broken moan and the tears fell down his cheeks when San accidentally hit the back of his throat. He was even struggling to keep his eyes open, the situation overwhelming him to the point where it almost felt like he could pass out after his orgasm ripped through him.

His nails dug into San’s leg. He didn’t even want to imagine how he might look, considering the spit that was covering his chin and the tears that had reached his jaw. 

Fucked out, perhaps?

He babbled San’s name and his body shuddered violently as he spilled all over his hand. 

San cursed and he orgasmed right after. 

The captain carefully pulled out and helped Wooyoung get onto his feet, which made Wooyoung realise that his legs were numb and that his knees hurt a little, but it wasn’t the moment to care about it.

His back moulded against the wall and his lips moulded against San’s after swallowing. 

“W-was it…” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Was it good?”

San smiled against his mouth. “You were perfect.”

And he took Wooyoung’s hand, bringing it close to his mouth to dart his tongue out and lick part of the cum covering it.

“You are perfect.”

*

Messages:

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [00:23]: 

Horny bitch

Jongho started feeling nauseous so I called a taxi and we are on our way home

I know you said you were feeling better and that you are leaving with San but call me or text me if you need me

j. woo [00:42]: 

don’t worry ♥

take care of jongho and see you tomorrow

yeonjun & co are still here

and miyeon and her friends too

so i’m fine!

and sannie is obviously here too

ilyyyy

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [00:45]: 

Jongho literally took off his clothes, got into bed and passed out

Ok dude not even a kiss goodnight

Divorce

Talk to you tomorrow

Love you too <3

“Isn’t that the hot MST player we were talking about earlier?” Miyeon asked, her voice surprisingly clear to have drunk so much. 

Wooyoung turned around to see who she was talking about.

“Oh, yeah. Someone asked in our group chat if a few friends from the other team could come and San and I said that we didn’t mind as long as they were friendly and all of that,” Shuhua explained as she tied her long, brunette hair up. “I didn’t know it would be the new love of your life.”

San had temporarily left to convince a teammate who was half asleep in the toilets that it was time to grab his jacket and get into a taxi. He told Wooyoung that once he made sure that the rest of the team was doing fine, they could leave, so, since San’s phone was out of battery, Wooyoung promised him that he would be either with Miyeon or with Yeonjun and the rest. 

That way, it would be easier to find each other later.

“I need to stop finding new potential lovers in every team,” Miyeon groaned, resting her head on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “But look at him, he’s so handsome.”

“I can’t see him,” Wooyoung commented with squinted eyes and pursed lips. 

He had barely paid attention to the MST players so he didn’t even know what face he was looking for. 

“Oh my god, they came with their coach,” Minnie chimed in after taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t take him seriously after Shuhua said he looks like the typical ex-fuckboy who still thinks it’s super cool to brag about his body count.”

Wooyoung’s blood ran cold .

It froze inside his veins.

Miyeon made a gesture in the direction of the players and the coach, and Wooyoung discovered, horrified, that Hyeon was already looking at him, his eyes boring holes into his skull. 

“Oh no, he’s looking,” Minnie giggled. 

A buzz installed inside his ears, lowering the sound of the music even though Yuqi hadn’t touched the volume of the song she was playing. 

Why was he in Crystal Coven?

Jungkook didn’t go to the parties. He usually joined the team when they had dinner or went to a bar to have a few beers, and even then, San said that he always left pretty soon. Likely because he didn’t want to make the players uncomfortable.

The MST coach drew a grin and tilted his head, clearly acknowledging Wooyoung’s presence in the distance. Wooyoung forgot how to move nor how to even stretch his lips in a disgusted smile.

Nothing. 

“Do you know him?” Miyeon said while Wooyoung tried to focus on her voice.

Did he come here on purpose, to haunt him even more ?

Because Wooyoung’d had enough for the rest of his life. 

“You could say so,” Wooyoung mumbled, finally turning around to try to ignore Hyeon until San came back. 

Hyeon couldn’t ruin his night. Everything was going so well —he had been happily talking to many people without needing Yeosang next to him. He had publicly talked to San and even checked him out while he was dancing with Mingi. He had blown San in the toilets and kissed him until his lips were swollen. And they both were going to leave together .

Hyeon shouldn’t be here. 

This wasn’t his place.

“Do you want to go talk to him? We can go with you,” Miyeon offered, completely missing Wooyoung’s tone. 

“No, no. It’s fine. Thank you.”

It couldn’t be that difficult to wait for San. 

And if it ended up becoming too much, he could try to find him or even wait for him outside. 

He could do it. 

While Hyeon stayed away from him, he could survive for a few more minutes. 

However, just in case the situation got out of hand, Wooyoung excused himself to refill his cup of lemonade, the vodka long forgotten since he came back to the party after being with San in the toilets, and took his phone out of his pocket. 

Messages:

j. woo [1:12]: 

ik it’s super late

but you are a night owl

u there?

Wooyoung walked around the bar and ended up grabbing a small bottle of water. It was still, somewhat, cold. Not much, but enough to make the drink bearable. He took a long sip and let out an even longer sigh when his phone screen lit up to indicate he had a new notification.

Messages:

hongjoong 🤠 [1:15]: 

I’m here

100% awake

U ok?

j. woo [1:17]: 

hmm remember what i told you this morning?

hongjoong 🤠 [1:18]: 

Are we talking about The Piece Of Shit?

j. woo [1:19]: 

yeah

he’s here

It would have been way easier to search for Yeonjun to tell him about Hyeon suddenly coming to the party. However, the last time Wooyoung saw his friend, he was not only visibly drunk but also clinging onto Soobin as if he was about to jump him in the middle of the dance floor.

Wooyoung wasn’t keen on the idea of interrupting him to give him this bittersweet surprise. Going over to them to make jokes or inform them about him leaving once San came back was one thing, but going there with the face of someone who had just seen a ghost to ruin the mood was another thing entirely.

He didn’t want to have to explain himself to the others, either.

What if he started crying or had a panic attack just by talking about it?

It was safer to message Hongjoong.

Selfish, that too, but Yeosang had enough on his plate with taking care of Jongho and making sure he didn’t suddenly wake up to throw up. 

He stood up after taking another sip and his eyes widened when he spotted Hyeon walking in his direction. He needed to hide . And most importantly, he needed to find San. 

Messages:

hongjoong 🤠 [1:20]: 

wtf

Are you with Yeosang or San or…?

j. woo [1:21]: 

yeo left

yeonjun is somewhere w soobin

san is with his taemmates and he’s supposed
to come soon but hyeon is like idk trying
to talk to me??he’s looking at me and
trying to approach me hahaahhhhhhh

imam see if i can find san so we can leave

sorry

Wooyoung’s eyes glanced in all directions as he walked towards the toilets. There wasn’t a single person with red hair in sight. He recognised Mingi and Yunho, also Changbin, Felix and Hyunjin, Yeonjun surprisingly twerking with Beomgyu and not with Soobin…

God. Going over to them would mean risking Hyeon finally talking to him and that couldn’t fucking happen. He didn’t want that to happen. 

His fingers trembled as he twisted the doorknob to get into the toilets.

“Hey,” Taehyun said, brushing his hair back with his damp fingers. “Don’t use the last one, Chan made a mess.”

Wooyoung turned on the tap and pressed his fresh palms against his neck. 

“Have you seen San?”

All the stalls were clearly empty so unless San was in the other toilets, Wooyoung had no way to find him. Why did everything go wrong at the same time? Normally, San’s phone always had enough battery. 

Why tonight?

“Yeah. I helped him with Chan and he told me he would help Jeongin take him to the taxi station.”

Shit .

The taxi station was ten minutes away by foot from the club, and that was without carrying the limp body of a guy like Chan. Wooyoung could go there but what if when he and San crossed paths he was too nervous to see him.

“Oh. Okay.” Wooyoung nodded. “Thank you.”

At this point, he had lost any grasp of time. He couldn’t tell if it had been ten or twenty minutes since he left Miyeon and her friends to go to the bar but, in his bones, it felt like an eternity.

Time sucked when he wasn’t feeling good. 

It almost felt like a snake twirling around all his limbs, cutting the air that got to his lungs, tightening the grip around his throat until he could only choke. 

Thinking was an impossible task, too. His thoughts were like birds that escaped his hands. The fear slowly paralysed him, triggering a side of himself that moved on autopilot and every rational, logical possibility turned into… nothing .

The only thing that repeated inside his head was.

I need to leave.

I need to leave.

I need to leave.

Waiting outside couldn’t be that bad, right?

He could text Miyeon and Yeonjun when he got to San’s place. He could apologise later. Now he was literally fighting against his own head to be able to function and get to the door of the club. 

Wooyoung didn’t even try to find his jacket in the pile of clothes they had at the entrance. 

Hopefully, he could ask San to look for it the next day when they came to help clean the club.

Messages:

hongjoong 🤠 [1:23]: 

Let me know when you find him

I’m here

No sorry’s

j. woo [1:31]: 

apprently he’s going to the taxi station

but he has no battery so i cant call him

im outside

waitng

hongjoong 🤠 [1:33]: 

Woo I’m less than 10 minutes away by car

And I haven’t even changed clothes yet

I can pick you up and you can tell one of
San’s friends that you are here and that 
he can come later

I don’t want you waiting outside by yourself

“I’m starting to think you are avoiding me,” a familiar voice said after a couple of minutes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Wooyoung typed without even looking at the screen.

Messages:

j. woo [1:36]: 

heshere

heEre

fuck

hongjoong 🤠 [1:37]: 

I’m running to my car

Can you go inside or something?

Woo

Wooyoung didn’t even blink, internally hoping that Hyeon only talked to him for a couple of minutes and left. He was already regretting not telling Yeonjun about this, though he despised the idea of being a burden. And that was what he would be.

In fact, that was what he already was because Hongjoong was driving to the club for no reason. If Wooyoung had managed to assure him that everything was under control, his friend wouldn’t be leaving his house so late. 

He could have done better.

He could have hidden in the toilets and pretended he was feeling dizzy, even if he was sober.

Anything . 

But no. There he was —alone with Hyeon. Outside, where no one could see them.

Some of his nightmares were less terrifying than this.

Hyeon stood in front of him.

“Hey.”

Wooyoung pocketed his phone and sank his nails into the palms of his hands whilst he raised his head to face Hyeon, pressing his back against the wall as if that could actually put more space between their bodies.

Hyeon brought a cigarette to his lips and offered one to Wooyoung.

“I quit smoking,” Wooyoung mumbled.

What the hell, Wooyoung.

The coach looked different. In a weird way. It was hard to decipher if the difference was that he was older or if it was that Wooyoung was so repulsed that he saw him uglier than he was. Because, despite how much he hated to admit it, Hyeon was still very attractive. 

Wooyoung guessed he could still take whoever he wanted to bed with that face.

But the only impulse he felt when he saw him was to punch the grin hanging from his lips as he inhaled. 

“Good for you,” Hyeon said. “Y’know, I was hoping we would meet.”

“What,” Wooyoung said through gritted teeth. 

All the fucking smart answers he could say were gone . 

A fish out of the water looked less pathetic than him.

“I’ve been coming to other matches and I saw you a few weeks ago with some DJV players,” he confessed. “At first, I wasn’t sure if it was actually you but…” Hyeon craned his head to exhale the smoke to the side. 

Wooyoung’s palms hurt from how hard he was pressing his nails into the skin.

“I mean… I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always a sucker for football players.”

Where was his voice? Did it leave with all his courage and all the progress he had made in the last few years?

He felt small and insignificant when he looked at Hyeon. 

It became stupidly obvious that, for the coach, what happened between them hadn’t been life-changing, just another experience; a funny one, maybe. Nothing important. 

“I bet you’ve fucked half of the team.”

“Shut up,” Wooyoung grunted, low, with a thin voice. 

“Eh, chill, baby,” Hyeon chuckled. “That was what you used to do when we met and you know what everyone says: once a slut, always a slut. It’s not a bad thing.”

Why hadn’t anybody appeared to save him? Nobody needed to smoke too? Where was San and why hadn’t he come back from the taxi station?

Wooyoung shook his head.

He had changed so much . Flirting with everyone wasn’t his favourite hobby anymore nor was posting his entire life on social media. The only person he had genuinely liked since Hyeon was San and Wooyoung had been so lucky with him that, for once, he even wanted to pursue something else.

A relationship. A future.

Those things that never, ever, crossed his mind when he was a teenager.

“I’m not your baby, Hyeon.”

“Fine, sorry,” Hyeon said, rolling his eyes. “ Jeez , I only wanted to talk to you.”

Why?

After the fateful party where Hyeon had confessed that he had been playing with him, Wooyoung tried to message him a couple of times. He typed furious messages and ended up feeling so stupid that he curled up and cried his heart out until his eyes were dry.

Hyeon had deleted all their pictures together by the time the next weekend rolled up. 

That was when Wooyoung had sent him a simple question.

Why?

Obviously, the answer never came.

And a couple of weeks later, Yeosang convinced him to block him on all his accounts.

“I’ve missed you,” Hyeon whispered before taking a new drag. “I should have texted you back instead of ignoring you like that.”

Was that another one of his jokes?

“I dunno, I guess I was really falling for you? You made me feel special.”

Wooyoung snorted.

Considering how much Wooyoung used to kiss the ground Hyeon walked on, he bet that what he missed was having someone that thought he was perfect by his side. He hadn’t even apologised for all the months he lied to him.

He was doing… his thing —talking about himself.

The rage awoke inside him, his fingers flying to Hyeon’s black t-shirt to pull him closer.

“You made a bet,” he spat, gritting his teeth.

“I did,” Hyeon murmured, the smoke now hitting Wooyoung’s face. “And I know it was wrong but I met you thanks to it and I…”

Wooyoung’s eyes stung and the floor under his feet grew less and less stable by the minute.

“Don’t you think we were perfect?”

Was he for real? 

“W-we weren’t,” Wooyoung argued, gripping Hyeon’s clothes even harder. He couldn’t let him do whatever he wanted with him. He couldn’t leave thinking that what he did was just a silly joke. “You lied for months, t-took me out on dates and said… You s-said…”

He gasped when Hyeon’s index finger brushed his lips.

“I’m sorry. I thought it would be funny, okay? I didn’t think you would like me that much. But we are older now and…”

Wooyoung tried to pull back when their noses bumped but his back found the wall again, and his fingers stayed closed around Hyeon’s t-shirt, because even if he was the cause of his anxiety, he was also the only real thing that was within his reach.

At least, that’s what his foggy brain thought as Wooyoung considered pushing him away and running inside again.

He could do that. 

He just needed to find the force to move his legs, that were petrified. 

Don’t get closer.

Let me breathe.

His eyes widened when Hyeon withdrew but his hand caressed his cheek. 

“W-what do you want?”

Wooyoung wished he could crawl out of his own body. Hyeon’s palm didn’t curl around his cheek like San’s small hand did. His voice didn’t settle his stomach but made it twist. And although his eyes were dark like the night too, Wooyoung wasn’t willing to get lost inside them.

The only person that could hold him like that wasn’t Hyeon.

He lost Wooyoung’s permission a long time ago.

“Do you want me to accept your apology?”

Because I can’t.

You fucked me up.

I have nightmares about you.

It feels shitty to talk about you.

I still think it’s my fault, even though I know you are an asshole.

“I want you to let go a little bit. For old time's sake…”

His thumb brushed Wooyoung’s jaw and Wooyoung realised, in horror, that he had nowhere to go when Hyeon caged him against the wall. His fingers tried to keep him away but he was completely still.

He was living one of his most recent nightmares when he should be going to San’s flat.

With San.

He should be with San.

God, it was always his fault. If he stopped making mistakes, perhaps these things would stop happening to him. Why did he think it was a good idea to wait for San outside? Why didn’t he go back inside the moment Hyeon came over?

“Hye-...”

It was late to do anything. 

Hyeon found Wooyoung’s parted lips, pinning him even more against the wall whilst Wooyoung felt, again, like a toy, but this time it wasn’t safe nor fun. This time he wasn’t thinking about how in love he was.

It felt disgusting.

His eyes fluttered closed when he noticed the tears gathering in them.

Was he so easy ?

He really thought he was doing better; he thought he was better .

At least, good enough to respect San. To not let someone else kiss him, hiding in the shadows. 

“I knew you were just playing hard to get, baby,” Hyeon whispered against his jaw, after kissing him for who knew how many seconds while Wooyoung did nothing but waited for the torture to end. 

Baby .

Wooyoung couldn’t help but remember how quickly San had stopped using the petname when Wooyoung told him he didn’t like it.

He remembered telling Hyeon he wasn’t his baby not even five minutes ago.

Apparently, Hyeon was still the same Hyeon who only listened to what he wanted to hear. Nothing else.

“Told you, once a slut, always a slut.” Another kiss against his skin. “You’ve got even hotter.”

Wooyoung snapped then.

The rage possessed him again as he pushed the coach and opened his eyes, the silent tears breaking free whilst his lips quivered.

“G-get away from me.”

He was, finally , starting to move to the door of the club when two things happened at the same time —the first one was Hyeon reaching out to grab his hand; the second one was Hongjoong getting between them.

Wooyoung would like to say that his presence made him feel stronger but the sight of his friend only made him sob .

“Shh, it’s okay, Woo. I’m here. It’s okay.”

Wooyoung saw the tears falling to his feet, the conversation between Hongjoong and Hyeon like a blur he couldn’t understand. He blinked and looked at the mark of his nails on his palms, four crescents on his skin to remind him he didn’t want to be here .

His back hit the wall again, this time because his legs were giving out.

His gaze followed Hongjoong’s voice to find him right in front of Hyeon, the same fierce expression he had seen him put on in some class discussions painting his face.

“Stay the fuck away from him, you hear me?” Hongjoong was saying, the tone firm and threatening. 

Wooyoung caught Hyeon cackling. 

“Yeah? Or what? Are you his father?” 

The nausea swirled in his stomach when the pad of his fingers touched his own lips. Why hadn't he reacted? Why had he let him do that? 

Wooyoung bit his inner cheek, guilt and disgust falling all over those flowers he had been watering since he started growing a new garden inside him. 

The petals withered under all the accusations that were echoing inside his head. 

“Wooyoung is way too good to give you a taste of your own medicine,” Hongjoong hissed, his words laced with poison, just like Wooyoungʼs tears. “But trust me, I am not. So get the fuck out of here before I accidentally call my mother and ask her to dig into your life for me. I’m sure a sick bet it’s not…”

Wooyoung gasped for air, missing the last part of Hongjoongʼs threat. He pressed his palms flat against the cold wall behind him, although that reminded him again of Hyeonʼs lips on him. 

Hyeon calling him baby. 

Hyeon saying he was still a slut. 

Hyeon pretending to feel regretful so Wooyoung bloomed in his arms like he used to do. 

He used to call him baby in such a petulant way, especially when he thought Wooyoung had done something wrong. 

And he used to call him names in bed too, without asking him if he liked it. To be fair, he had barely asked Wooyoung if he even enjoyed all the things they did when they had sex. 

Hyeon had assumed he did, and Wooyoung had assumed it, too. 

By the time they had met, his previous experiences hadnʼt been crazily good either so Wooyoung thought that Hyeonʼs obsession with his naked body and his few kisses post-sex were an indication that he was good; better than the others.

Not only did Hyeon never love him, he also fucked him up so badly. 

And he didnʼt even imagine it. 

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and Wooyoung flinched. 

“Hey, itʼs me,” Hongjoong whispered, bending down ever so slightly to meet Wooyoungʼs eyes. “Letʼs go to my car, yeah? He left.”

Wooyoung nodded, absentmindedly, still feeling Hyeonʼs body pressed against himself. 

Hongjoong carefully guided him to his vehicle and only then Wooyoung realised that they were really by themselves. Alone. Without Hyeon. 

The hiccups got louder while Hongjoong caressed his leg before gripping the wheel. 

And Wooyoung confessed, “He kissed me.”

The confession sank in. 

“He… kissed me.”

He opened the door and threw up on the pavement.

He kissed me and I let him do it.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“Master manipulator.
God, you're so good at what you do.
Come for me like a saviour.
And I'd put myself through hell for you.”

Wooyoung was vaguely present as Hongjoong drove through the roads, the only sound filling the car was his ragged breathing and his wet hiccups. Hongjoong caressed his leg every time he stopped at a red light but Wooyoung barely reacted.

It was like going back to the start but in such a different way.

Because now Wooyoung was aware of all the tricks that Hyeon had pulled on him and he also had a way bigger support system than he used to.

In his last year of high school, it was just Yeosang and him against the world.

“We’re here,” Hongjoong announced, exiting the car to open Wooyoung’s door and help him get out.

They walked into the lift in silence and Wooyoung stared at Hongjoong’s fingers as he introduced the code to open the door to his flat. He mechanically removed his shoes and as he was going to take off his coat, he remembered that he had left it at the club with the idea of asking San to pick it up tomorrow.

Another sob echoed against the walls.

He was supposed to leave with San and spend the night with him and there he was instead —bawling his eyes out, feeling grossed out, with the nausea crawling up his throat again.

How was he going to talk to San?

What was he going to tell him?

He couldn’t think right now, his mind wasn’t clear enough to confess to San that he didn’t push Hyeon right away after he kissed him. He couldn’t tell him that although he wasn’t comfortable, something inside him kept him in his place, frozen. 

It sounded like a poor excuse, even if it was the truth. 

“Do you want some water?”

Wooyoung shook his head. 

“Can I…?” Wooyoung trailed off, pulling at the fabric of his crop top. “I need to change clothes.”

What would have happened if Hongjoong hadn’t showed up? 

Wooyoung didn’t want to think about the different possibilities, none of them looked good for him. Hyeon was reaching out to grab his arm, even though Wooyoung had just pushed him , when Hongjoong intervened. 

How could Hyeon come back just to add more painful memories to his life? 

Hadn’t Wooyoung suffered enough?

“Sure, Woo.”

Mars walked into the hall, his eyes squinting as he stared alternately from Hongjoong to Wooyoung. Hongjoong picked him up and scratched under his chin. 

“Do you feel like making some biscuits tonight, buddy? Wooyoung is in need of a professional support cat,” Hongjoong whispered, matter-of-factly, trying to make Wooyoung smile. 

Wooyoung rubbed his fingers against Mars’ head and followed Hongjoong to his bedroom. 

He was close to losing the minuscule grasp of control he still had. His fingers were trembling and he was starting to struggle to keep his breath steady. 

It would be more convenient not to repeat in his head what Hyeon had done but it was as if his brain had a mind of its own and Wooyoung couldn’t actually stop it. It was so scarily similar to the last year of high school, although back then Wooyoung was sure that he was going crazy; that feeling so much would end up killing him.

Until one day, he had begun feeling nothing at all.

It was some time after that when he realised that he had also forgotten too many things about the past couple of years.

Wooyoung hadn’t been able to remember it all. He doubted he ever would.

His phone dropped to the bed and Wooyoung remembered San again.

San promising to find him after making sure that all his teammates were okay. San whispering that he was perfect. San smiling against his mouth and saying that he would treat him to breakfast before he had to go to the club tomorrow.

San, San, San.

He also thought about Yeosang.

Yeosang, who had wrongly assumed that Wooyoung would be able to take care of himself. Yeosang, who gave Wooyoung more credit than he had ever earned. Yeosang, who would probably yell at him tomorrow because Wooyoung should be texting San tonight, instead of waiting until tomorrow morning.

“I’m so sorry,” Wooyoung babbled, the tears falling down his cheeks again.

He tried to curl up in bed, away from Hongjoong’s eyes, but the latter grabbed his shoulder with one hand and placed a pyjama t-shirt on his lap.

“Let’s take those clothes off and get you comfortable. We can talk about feeling sorry later.”

Wooyoung nodded, though it was Hongjoong who had to do all the work, helping him to raise his arms to peel his tight crop top off his skin. The cotton pyjama t-shirt slid over his body like a hug that smelled like Hongjoong and that brought another sob to Wooyoung’s mouth.

“Y-you shouldn’t be t-taking care of me,” he murmured while Hongjoong kept diligently pulling at Wooyoung’s trousers to wrap him in some wide pyjama pants. “Y-you are mad, aren’t y-you? I’d be mad.”

Wooyoung pulled his legs against his chest, looking at Hongjoong with puffy eyes whilst his breathing grew more and more agitated. 

“Aren’t you… tired? You c-could be in bed but I’m h-here. Crying in your bed.”

His forehead knocked on his knees as he tried to take deep breaths. 

“I w-wanted to be better. I’ve c-changed b-but it’s never enough. I’m…” Wooyoung sank his nails into his skin again, this time torturing his legs. “I’m f-fucked up and I’m always… always bothering you all. T-that’s why… I…”

During his high school years, Wooyoung thought he was learning quite a lot about life. He thought that he was gaining a lot of experience when he started hanging out with older people and when he lost his virginity and kept fooling around with different people, but the real experience he took home was that nobody would ever despise him as much as he despised himself.

He lost his childhood friendship group. He lost his position as president of his class. He lost all of his popularity, falling off the throne and trying pathetically to, at least, get his crown back.

Ironically, to have forgotten so many things, he hadn’t forgotten how people from high school went from admiring and praising him every damn day to leaving mocking comments under his posts.

“hahaha how’s the broken heart going?”

“have you found a new college victim?”

“my cousin is a basketball player want me to give u his number??”

It was strange because, in comparison, San was way more popular than he was back in high school. After all, his popularity hadn’t reached other cities, unlike San’s, but for such a young person it was quite a lot to be known both in high school and also in the college nearby. 

Every person who liked football could easily recognise Wooyoung.

And every person who attended his high school knew his name.

In all honesty, finding out in which moment it all got to his head was… pointless. He was a monster by the time he turned sixteen. 

A popular, gorgeous, arrogant monster.

Perhaps, he had only morphed into another type of monster; one that wasn’t intimidating but simply ridiculous. A monster that only sucked the joy out of everyone around him.

Yeah, that was probably the case.

A monster that didn’t fool people anymore, but a monster regardless.

Wooyoung hadn’t noticed that he was murmuring nonsense until he felt Hongjoong’s cold palms holding his face. 

“Shh, shhhh,” Hongjoong was murmuring, softly. “That’s not true.”

What wasn’t true?

“Look at me.”

Wooyoung’s gaze locked on Hongjoong’s face, realising that his friend had moved him so he was sitting against the headboard, with Mars lying by their feet and Hongjoong sitting beside him.

“I’m not mad at you. You did the right thing texting me when you saw Hyeon at the party.”

“But Y-yeonjun and the rest… I could h-have… I b-bothered…”

“I was awake and I was the one who offered to come and pick you up. You didn’t bother me. You reaching out means more to me than anything else,” Hongjoong explained, slowly, as though he feared that Wooyoung would stop paying attention. 

Wooyoung shrugged. “I ruined everything anyway,” he whispered. “He kissed me and I did… n-nothing.”

Before the nausea ate him up again, Wooyoung tilted his head back to rest it against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed and his hand grabbing one of Hongjoong’s.

“He did things without your consent, Wooyoung. What he did was so messed up. You looked terrified when I arrived, not like someone who was doing nothing.”

“I should have stopped him s-sooner. S-said something,” Wooyoung lamented. “He did that and I just… stayed there. I d-don’t know how long he s-spent kissing me before I pushed him away.”

Wooyoung swallowed.

“It’s like I… wasn’t there for a second. He kissed me and I felt… t-trapped,” he snorted. “It s-sounds like a fucking excuse, d-doesn’t it? If I had been so disgusted, I’d have done something .”

Mars climbed onto his lap and Wooyoung closed his mouth at the sudden movement. Only to sob again when the cat kneaded his stomach as he purred. His hand landed on Mars’ body, caressing his back while the cat kept gently pressing his paws against Wooyoung’s abdomen.

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Hongjoong murmured. “I think that it was already a lot that you managed to push him away, even if it was after he kissed you.” His thumb slid over the back of Wooyoung’s hand. “I’m… proud of you for that. I suck at this but I swear I am, Woo.”

A faint smile curled Wooyoung’s lips.

“You sound like Yeosang. Although he’s b-better at words than you.”

Hongjoong snorted.  

“Have you told him you are here?”

Wooyoung shook his head.

“Do you want me to tell him?”

Wooyoung nodded.

“But don’t… just tell him that something happened and you picked me up.”

There would be time to explain everything to Yeosang in the morning. 

Hongjoong grabbed his own phone and typed a quick message as Wooyoung realised that the sound of Mars’ purrs was actually helping to calm him down. He was still shaken up and he wouldn’t risk drinking a single drop of water just in case it bothered his stomach, but breathing was getting slightly easier. 

The caresses on the back of his hand helped too.

However, the false calm barely lasted because the moment Hongjoong put his phone down, Wooyoung tilted his head in his direction and asked:

“What am I going to tell San?”

“What do you mean?”

Wooyoung licked his lips. 

“I was going to talk to him about everything next week but it’s like… I can’t pretend …” Wooyoung focused on caressing Mars’ head. “I should have messaged one of his friends so he knows where I am but I… can’t. I can’t see him tonight. I d-don’t want him to see me like this.”

Hongjoong sighed.

“Do you want me to type the message and you just send it to one of his friends?”

“W-What are you going to tell him?”

“Give me your phone.”

Wooyoung unlocked it and handed it to Hongjoong. 

To be fair, he had no brain to argue or to think. Whatever Hongjoong came up with would be better than his silence. 

“What friend?”

“Mingi.”

Hongjoong nodded and after a few seconds, he typed a short message and showed it to Wooyoung, who read through it and felt his stomach twist one more time. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to survive the night without throwing up again.

“Do you think that’s enough?” 

Hongjoong bit his lip and shrugged. “I think it’s something . At least he knows why you weren’t waiting for him.”

Wooyoung frowned. “I guess.”

Messages:

j. woo [2:40]: 

hey mingi

could you tell san that something happened and i had to leave?

ill text him tomorrow

sorry

Hongjoong put Wooyoung’s phone aside and pulled at Wooyoung until his head was resting on his shoulder. Now that he had texted Yeosang and Mingi, it was as if his brain was shutting down. 

He felt drained, as though he had done too much in too little time; or as if he had pushed himself past his limit, which was somewhat true. 

The tears were starting to dry on his cheeks and his emotions seemed to have turned off for the night. 

“Can I stay here with you? I don’t w-want to be alone.”

His eyes were closed when he talked again.

“We don’t need to cu-cuddle or anything. It’s enough to know you are t-there.”

“Yeah, I feel like Mars will join us too,” Hongjoong said, stretching out to scratch the cat’s head. “Are you sleepy?”

“‘M tired but I don’t think I can sleep.”

“Do you want to watch me play Sims 4?”

Wooyoung hummed. 

It was such a distressing feeling —he was so exhausted that he felt like sleeping for a week straight but he was still so grossed out and anxious that, at the same time, he felt like he could stay awake for days without needing a single cup of coffee.

The pressure in his chest wasn’t suffocating, though.

And this time he wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t make it to the next morning.

Even though the idea of the upcoming morning wasn’t precisely warm and friendly. 

Hongjoong got up to take his laptop from his desk and placed it on the bed. 

“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, turn the laptop on and get the game ready if you feel like it. Be right back.”

Surprisingly, after turning on the nightstand lamps and playing for almost two hours, Wooyoung found the courage to get out of bed to make tea for himself, too. His body settled completely after taking a few sips and his eyes began closing before he finished his drink. 

The last image he saw after sinking into the mattress was Mars snuggling up against his chest whilst Hongjoong chuckled at his Sim flirting with her crush and panicking when said crush flirted back.

***

“The fucking bastard didn’t back off after he pushed him?” 

Yeosang’s low, intimidating voice startled Wooyoung, who was still curled up in bed, avoiding the real world. He didn’t feel rested, quite the opposite, and his head throbbed as though someone had punched him in his sleep.

Like a coward, he avoided his phone, exactly like he did the previous time he spent the night at Hongjoong’s, though this time it was for a different reason.

The sun wasn’t fully up in the sky so he guessed that it had to be really early.

At what time did he fall asleep?

Wooyoung cracked the door open and walked to the kitchen, peeking around the doorframe to find his best friend with his arms crossed against his chest and his lips pursed while Hongjoong murmured something that didn’t catch his ear.

“He’s lucky I wasn’t there when he got to the club,” Yeosang grunted. “I’ve been wanting to beat the fuck out of him since high school.”

Wooyoung cleared his throat, not moving an inch from the door.

Hongjoong and Yeosang turned around and Yeosang flew in his direction, wrapping Wooyoung in that specific type of hug that only Yeosang could deliver, filled with warmth, familiarity and that constant reminder that they could overcome anything while they remained together.

“When I read Hongjoong’s message after I woke up, I couldn’t believe…” Yeosang didn’t finish his sentence, his fingers carding through Wooyoung’s hair. “He’s a fucking manipulator. A narcissist, predatory, piece of shit.”

“He said he saw me a few weeks ago,” Wooyoung remembered as he let Yeosang guide him to the chairs that were around the small breakfast table. He sat down and fidgeted with the hem of the pyjama t-shirt. “I didn’t get if he came to the party expecting to see me or…”

“I bet he knew you were there,” Hongjoong murmured. “It’s disgusting.”

“Can’t believe I could actually hate him more ,” Yeosang snickered, rolling his eyes and giving Wooyoung’s knee a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

Wooyoung drew a smile when Hongjoong gave him a glass of water.

Was he feeling anything at all?

Because Wooyoung could swear that his brain was already protecting him from the pain he should be feeling at this point. He felt… devoid of any emotion. Not really moving like a zombie but dangerously close to it. 

The events of the previous night were still being processed.

Though Wooyoung would love to pretend that his night ended after he and San left the stall.

“Weird,” Wooyoung murmured after drinking half of his water. “It’s like last night was a nightmare. I remember what he said and did but at the same time…” Wooyoung shook his head. “My night wasn’t supposed to end like that.”

Yeosang looked at Hongjoong and the latter took a seat too. 

“What?” Wooyoung asked.

Yeosang swallowed, the knot forming again in Wooyoung’s throat.

“When we woke up this morning, Jongho’s notifications had blown up. He had a bunch of messages from Mingi and Yunho.”

Wooyoung pressed his lips into a thin line.

He could imagine where this conversation was going. 

“At first, we thought that it was just them wasted. Nothing important. Until we started listening to the voice notes.” Yeosang paused, as though giving himself the strength he needed to tell the rest of the story.

“The voice notes weren’t from Yunho or Mingi,” Wooyoung interjected. 

Yeosang shook his head. “I mean, yeah, they were there too but it was… San. He saw you with Hyeon.”

Throughout his life, Wooyoung had felt like his heart was breaking a good number of times, but none of those occasions could compare to the pang that stabbed him right between the ribs when he imagined what San had said in those voice notes.

Wooyoung didn’t need to be completely lucid to connect the dots —San not only saw Hyeon kissing him, San also thought that he was enjoying the kiss. 

A kiss. With a coach. In public.

A kiss where everyone could see them and interpret whatever they wanted.

San thought he was having fun with Hyeon when the truth was that Wooyoung was crying, paralysed and thinking about him.

Did it look like he was enjoying it?

Wooyoung jolted, getting up from the chair violently and accidentally knocking it to the floor on his way to the bathroom. He reached for the toilet and gagged at the reminder of Hyeon’s lips pressed against his own.

No.

He gagged, picturing San there , doing nothing about it because he genuinely believed that Wooyoung would pull such a dirty move after he had promised him to wait for him so they could leave together.

He let out a sigh when he realised that he wasn’t going to throw up, that he was just grossed out again , but stayed on the floor whilst the snow covered all his flowers, killing the few that survived the night. 

The cold filled bones, cracks and roots. 

See? It was the same story, over and over again —Wooyoung paying the price for all his mistakes. Because if San had known about Hyeon, he wouldn’t have doubted Wooyoung’s intentions.

But he was a fucking idiot. 

Hongjoong crouched down next to him and offered him his refilled glass of water. Yeosang was right behind him. 

“I should have punched him,” Wooyoung commented with a sad smile. “And the only thing I did was stay still while he kissed me and called me a slut.” 

Wooyoung stared at his socked feet. When did he put them on?

“He said that he was sorry, that he should have talked to me instead of ignoring me. He also asked me if I didn’t think that we were perfect together.” Wooyoung snorted. “He didn’t even ask me if I was single before he kissed me, but I was only thinking about San.”

He shrugged.

“I know we are not…” The pressure in his chest turned into claws tearing his heart apart. “I know he’s not my boyfriend but at the same time… To me… I love him. I would never do that to him. There’s nobody else for me.”

Finally, he grabbed the glass of water and took a small sip.

“It’s my fault.”

Wooyoung couldn’t even bear to imagine how betrayed and hurt San must have felt.

“It’s not your fault,” Hongjoong assured.

“It’s a huge misunderstanding,” Yeosang corrected.

Wooyoung tilted his head to look at his best friend.

“What did he say in the voice notes?”

Yeosang tucked a green strand behind his ear, likely considering the best way of conveying San’s messages without revealing too much either. 

“He was so drunk,” he started in a quiet tone, sounding almost sad. “Like… I’ve never heard him like that and judging by Jongho’s face, I don’t think he’s used to seeing San like that either.”

Wooyoung took another sip.

“He said that he asked inside and Miyeon and Minnie told him that you said you knew Hyeon. Apparently, the excuse Hyeon used to tag along with the other players was that he wanted to see someone too. So… yeah, I guess he somehow knew you would be there. Or so he hoped.” 

Yeosang clenched his jaw while talking about it.

“Why can’t he leave me alone?” Wooyoung wondered, sighing into his palm. “It’s been years .”

“Honestly? I bet he thought you would fall into his arms again,” Yeosang said, repulsed. “But I don’t give a shit about him now. You need to talk to San, Woo.”

“I don’t think he wants to hear from me,” Wooyoung mumbled. “He probably thought I was playing with him when Hongjoong texted Mingi from my phone last night.”

Yeosang’s lips curled in an apologetic smile.

“He saw you with him and the next thing he knew was that neither of you came back to the party. I kind of… get him,” Yeosang admitted. “But I would have interrupted you instead of jumping to conclusions by myself.”

Wooyoung rested his temple against the cold porcelain of the toilet.

“But you don’t see yourself as a dumb jock who can’t put two and two together,” he whispered. “And Hyeon is older and also a coach. This is just…”

“Unfair,” Hongjoong supplied. “But it doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.”

“What if it’s too late? He has been so patient all this time. Maybe this was his last straw and he really doesn’t want to hear any more of my excuses.”

Yeosang raised a finger. “What have we said about calling it ‘excuses’? Because I’m going to track that piece of shit down and burn his house down if what he did last night has ruined all the progress you’ve made lately.”

Hongjoong laughed and offered Wooyoung a hand to help him to stand up.

Having Yeosang and Hongjoong side by side made their differences stand out even more. Despite not feeling any better, the mere presence of his two closest friends in the bathroom with him, ready to fight all his demons, drew a smile on his lips.

“I’m not saying you need to fix it today,” Hongjoong pointed out after Wooyoung was back on his feet. “Give yourself and San some time to process and calm down.”

Wooyoung smiled wider, thinking about how ironic but endearing it was to have Hongjoong asking him to figure everything out. Had he even talked to Seonghwa yet? 

“Don’t start making out with him without fixing anything and then cut all ties for a whole year, okay?” Hongjoong joked, and Wooyoung’s smile turned into a soft laugh. “Just message him in the next few days, when you feel ready.”

Wooyoung bit his lip and looked at Yeosang.

“Is Jongho mad at me?”

One day, he would stop believing that everyone would get mad at him at any given chance. His personal progress on the matter was that lately he had the guts to ask out loud if someone was upset with him, instead of just assuming it.

One of the corners of Yeosang’s lips lifted up in a side smile. 

“No. In fact, now that you mention him…”

He stepped forward, circled Wooyoung’s shoulders with one arm and pulled him into a half-hug. Wooyoung instinctively hugged Yeosang’s waist. 

“He told me to hug you for him.”

This had to be the first time in the past twenty-four hours that tears of joy filled his eyes.

“Promise me you will never let him go, Sangie.”

They moved in the direction of the living room while Yeosang giggled.

“That bitch, his gummy smile and his thick thighs are with me for life.”

***

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Yeosang repeated as they hopped out of the bus. 

It had been a few days since the celebration party and Wooyoung still hadn’t found the courage to send a decent message to San. He wasn’t proud of himself for avoiding that conversation but it hadn’t helped to get no answer from Mingi after the messages he sent that night and to know that San had seen him with Hyeon and had automatically assumed that Wooyoung would betray him like this.

The atmosphere seemed so hostile that Wooyoung only felt like hiding.

However, instead of locking himself in his bedroom and ignoring the entire world around him, he had only skipped one day of lectures and afterwards proceeded to be honest, firstly, with Miyeon.

“He seemed… distressed,” Miyeon commented after taking a bite of her donut. “He asked us if we knew the coach or if you knew him or something. I don’t remember his exact words because I was drunk, but Minnie told him that you said you knew him and I added that you didn’t seem happy to see him.”

They were having a quick snack at a coffee shop near college before they had to return for their afternoon lectures. 

“He laughed and told us that he had just seen you kissing him so…”

Miyeon sighed.

“What?” 

The more information he got about that night, the colder he felt inside.

“It’s just that… he sounded so hurt I… He said something that I didn’t get but seeing you now like this… I kind of…”

Did Wooyoung need every single detail? Hell no, but considering the huge misunderstanding, it seemed to be of help to have all the versions possible. Especially considering Jongho had explicitly told him that he wasn’t going to share with him anything he had talked about with San.

For sure, the quickest way of getting all his answers would be to text San but Wooyoung wasn’t prepared for that yet. 

“He said something like… ‘Well, maybe he was happy and you didn’t notice it. He’s good at keeping secrets’.” Miyeon frowned, her eyes scanning Wooyoung’s face while her hand moved across the table to squeeze Wooyoung’s. 

There was a brief pause and Wooyoung braced himself for the upcoming question.

“San is not just your friend, is he?” 

Another pause.

There wasn’t anything more to lose at this point and if Wooyoung had understood something these past few days, it was that if he had told the truth sooner, he could have avoided all of this mess.

He could have avoided hurting San.

Finally, Wooyoung shook his head.

“We’ve been…” Wooyoung licked his lips, exhaling. “We started whatever we have going on a year ago and I was planning on confessing literally this weekend. Now I’m not sure if he even wants to talk to me.”

He laughed, because he was tired of crying over all of this.

“We were going to spend the night of the party together and I was outside because I was waiting for him. But it wasn’t San who found me.”

Miyeon’s features twisted, concern covering her face.

“What… What happened exactly, Woo?”

Wooyoung shrugged, but before he chickened out he bared himself a bit further and confessed to Miyeon that San didn’t lie, that there was a kiss; a non-consensual kiss. That he had been scared. And that he didn’t want to talk in much detail about it but that he had been really lucky to have Hongjoong there.

Miyeon didn’t ask about Hyeon and his real relationship with Wooyoung, instead focusing on San and encouraging Wooyoung to talk to him as soon as possible. 

And surprisingly, even though it was implied that he didn’t want everyone to know about any of this, Wooyoung never told Miyeon to keep his relationship with San a secret.

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang stopped him when they reached the MST campus. “Are you sure about this? What if you have a panic attack or you freeze again?”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his coat and looked at Yeosang. His chest had been tightening and constricting his lungs since they had got on the bus, but he deserved this peace of mind.

The price to pay was high and the chances of not getting humiliated were low, but Wooyoung couldn’t keep going on with his life and forget about the past weekend until he made sure that Hyeon would never talk to him again.

Wooyoung considered messaging the coach, since he still had his phone number, though it was happily blocked. He had actually opened the chat a couple of days prior, but he knew Hyeon well enough to be sure that it would be pointless contacting him like that.

“I need to try. He can’t keep haunting me. Not after all this time.”

“I’ll intervene if I see you are not doing well.”

Wooyoung smiled at his best friend.

“I know. That’s why you are here.”

It was now or never. That chapter was supposed to be closed , Hyeon couldn’t come crashing into his life like this and turn into a real threat. Not when Wooyoung was finally taking real steps in the right direction, to the point that he had started going to football matches again after years . And he was freely opening his heart to someone new, completely sure that, this time, nobody was going to shatter it.

It was a gut-wrenching moment because Wooyoung knew he would feel beyond uncomfortable in the coach’s presence, especially after the past weekend, but his priority was getting over this so he could focus entirely on fixing his relationship with San.

Yeosang was still hopeful, so Wooyoung liked to believe that it wasn’t too late.

He just needed to overcome his fears and anxiety, and pray for San to give him a chance to explain himself properly.

They asked at the entrance how to get to the football field and followed the directions, Wooyoung’s body getting more and more tense by the second. What if Hyeon laughed in his face? What if he tried to gaslight him and blamed him for the kiss?

Wooyoung was scared of what the coach could come up with this time.

But, for once, he couldn’t catch him off guard because it was Wooyoung who was showing up unannounced. That gave him a false sense of having the upper hand that actually worked to keep his anxiety under control.

Wooyoung and Yeosang found the venue right as some football players from the MST team were leaving the building. He recognised the face of one of them because it was one of the players that had come to the party that night. Apparently, they were Seungmin’s friends, or that was what Yeosang and Jongho told him.

And those friends apologised to Seungmin during the party and the next day because the coach wasn’t supposed to tag along, but, in their own words, he was so insistent that they just wanted him to shut up and leave them alone.

They looked for the coach in the locker room and when they were about to leave, they bumped into a couple of cheerleaders that were rushing down the hallway. 

“May I help you?” One of them asked, gently but also clearly confused by their presence in the male locker room when they weren’t part of the football team.

Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Yeah, we were looking for the coach. Do you know where we can find him?”

It was a ginger cheerleader that had first talked to them, but it was her brunette friend who snorted after their question, looking them over from head to toe.

“He’s in his office but he’s busy,” she said, gesturing towards the end of the hall. “Last door on the right.”

Busy?

The ginger cheerleader looked at the brunette and then at Yeosang and Wooyoung.

“Are you… new?”

The way they asked the question made Wooyoung wonder what the real meaning was behind their not-so-subtle looks and the snorts. Did they also think that Hyeon was a walking piece of shit? Because that would be relieving.

“Oh, no,” Yeosang promptly replied with a smile. “We just came to talk to him.”

The cheerleaders looked at each other again. 

“What do you mean by busy?” Wooyoung prompted, because if it meant that Hyeon was in an online meeting or working on the strategy of their next match, he was going to knock on that door anyway.

He couldn’t physically wait in that hallway until Hyeon had a free second to listen to him. He didn’t deserve any type of courtesy.

The cheerleaders shared another knowing look and the brunette shrugged before turning to them again. 

“One of the cheerleaders always stays after we finish practice. She told us that it was to practise by herself but three weeks ago we saw her sneaking into his office so…” The brunette cheerleader explained, not caring at all about sharing this type of information with them.

Wooyoung wondered how fed up they had to be to talk about it with two complete strangers.

The ginger cheerleader sighed.

“Are you his friends or something?”

It was their turn to laugh. 

His friends.

What a joke. 

Wooyoung’s lips stretched in a disgusted expression while Yeosang composed himself to speak again, “Not at all.”

The cheerleaders stared at them in silence, as though trying to decipher why they would want to talk to Hyeon if they weren’t players and they weren’t his friends either. 

“Thank god.” The ginger cheerleader rubbed her cheek with her polished nails. “This girl is our friend and we are worried because she’s keeping all of this a secret when she’s not usually like that.” 

Wooyoung realised then that Hyeon, as expected, lied to him during the weekend; he kissed him when in theory he was already seeing someone; he was blatantly flirting with Wooyoung and doing everything in his power to get in his pants, even using their past and his false regret, and not even a week later he was locked in his office with someone else.

How could someone lie so much and get away with it?

How could he keep pulling the same moves, over and over?

It was disgusting. Not disappointing or anything of the sort, just predictable and disgusting. 

“He’s my ex,” Wooyoung whispered, although he shouldn’t consider him that. They never made it official and Hyeon was playing a game the whole time, but it was the shortest explanation. 

“Ah, shit,” The brunette cheerleader cursed under her breath. 

“So… Is it true?” The other one asked, as shameless as her friend was. 

Wooyoung’s heart swelled seeing the cheerleaders trying desperately to find answers and ways to help their friend. And that was when his second revelation of the day crashed through him while he wondered what the cheerleaders were even referring to —sharing his experience could help someone else. A faceless cheerleader, in this case.

One of the worst moments of his life could help someone to not go through anything like that too.

“Is what true?” Wooyoung asked.

The ginger one bit her lip and the other one wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

“There are some nasty rumours about him. Like, people say he’s a player and that he always does whatever he wants with all his partners and… I dunno. She’s a student and he’s the fucking coach. I don’t care if he’s in his mid-twenties.”

“Breathe, Ryu,” The ginger cheerleader murmured, caressing Ryu ’s arm. 

“Don’t tell me to breathe, Yeji. Yuna is with a man that…”

Wooyoung tilted his head ever so slightly in Yeosang’s direction while the cheerleaders talked between themselves and his best friend silently reached out and laced his fingers with Wooyoung’s in a silent way of telling Wooyoung that it was his decision to make. He was the one who had to decide whether to speak up or to just give the cheerleaders a vague answer.

“He hit on me this past weekend,” Wooyoung confessed. “And he even kissed me, although I didn’t want to, so you can tell your friend that she’s better off without a dick like him. He didn’t mention her at all when he was talking to me.”

“He what?” Yeji asked, horrified.

“He didn’t ask me if I was taken either,” Wooyoung added, letting out a cackle. He hated him so much . “When I am not only taken but also willing to have him out of my life forever.”

It was silly how something inside him felt warmer after saying out loud, to someone that wasn’t Yeosang or Hongjoong, that he was taken . Little did Wooyoung know that thinking about dating someone seriously would make him feel so giddy. 

It had to be the San effect.

Ryu looked at Yeosang.

“Are you two…?”

Yeosang giggled while Wooyoung coughed, the blush creeping down his neck.

“I’m his best friend. The moral support.”

The girls giggled too. 

“Sorry, you held hands and I just assumed,” Ryu apologised.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung assured with a smile. “My… Huh…” Something? Boyfriend-But-Also-Not? “He doesn’t even know I’m here.” He shook his head, trying not to think too much about San. It wasn’t the time for it. “Anyway, tell your friend that Hyeon has always been like this.”

It was both relieving and scary to open up about it in a situation like this. 

It was like his own past wasn’t a weapon against himself anymore but one he could use against Hyeon. He wanted to help that cheerleader before she got too involved, like he had been.

It wasn’t worth it.

“I met Hyeon four years ago and he was already a piece of shit. He played with me and I know he doesn’t regret it. He loves to have everyone wrapped around his little finger and he doesn’t respect anyone but himself. It surprises me he can actually lead a team and think about something that’s not his dick. I guess football must be his only exception.”

The last epiphany hit him as he processed the entire conversation —Hyeon wasn’t going to change. Never. Talking to him would be as useless as talking to a wall and would only cause him discomfort. 

Hyeon couldn’t give him his peace back. 

And sadly, Wooyoung couldn’t make him disappear from the football scene.

So what he actually needed were tools to handle Hyeon if they saw each other again at a match, and courage to be honest with his friends about it. They didn’t have to know the whole story, the important part was that Hyeon was his ex —his very terrible ex— and that Wooyoung preferred to stay away from him.

San was the only one who would, eventually and only if he was up to it, hear his full story.

So, yeah, they had come to MST just to make Wooyoung realise that what he actually needed to be able to handle all of this was… real help, not a tense conversation with Lee Hyeon. 

Perhaps, seeing the coach again after all this time had actually brought him one good thing. Even if it meant accepting that he couldn’t keep fighting the mountain on his own; someone had to teach him how to climb it. 

Someone had to show him how to let go of all the weight he was carrying inside, so he didn’t suffocate just trying to recall his teen years.

Wooyoung didn’t want to see Hyeon nor to talk to him again, but he needed to take care of his scars and build a shield that could resist Hyeon’s presence if they crossed paths again in the future.

He couldn’t keep bearing all this guilt. 

“You know what? I don’t even want to talk to him anymore,” Wooyoung suddenly confessed, surprising the cheerleaders and also Yeosang. 

In order to take care of his internal chaos, the last thing Wooyoung needed was to sit in a room with Hyeon while he remembered that he had not only disrespected him when he had kissed him without consent, but also the girl that he was apparently fooling around with.

Wooyoung learnt enough about him in high school to know that he was making her so many promises. Likely, he made their secret relationship sound idyllic, when in reality he was just isolating her from her friends. 

He had also used that tactic with him. And Wooyoung had eaten it up. 

“I’ve had enough and he’s still a waste of my time.”

Wooyoung laughed, wide-eyed. It had been one thing to hear Yeosang repeating all of that and another to actually process it. 

It was as if something had been covering his eyes for so long that now he had to get used to natural light.

“I hope your friend realises that there are so many people way better than him. People who really listen to you when you speak, who coo at your antics, who don’t let you hide when you cry and who make you feel at home.”

God, he missed San so much. 

“I’m Wooyoung, by the way,” he added with a smile.

The ginger cheerleader stretched her arm to cutely shake Wooyoung’s hand.

“Yeji.”

The other one placed her hand over theirs. “Ryujin.” 

“Sorry for intercepting you like that,” Yeji murmured with an apologetic smile. “But I’m glad we did.”

“I really hope your friend dumps his ass,” Yeosang chimed in, without letting Wooyoung’s hand go. “I’m Yeosang. Your routine was insane last week.”

Yeji laughed behind her hand and Ryujin chuckled.

“The one we’ve prepared for the cheerleaders show is even better. Come say hi if you go.”

The crack of a door cut their conversation and all of them instinctively hid inside the locker room, watching in silence as a cheerleader left Hyeon’s office to disappear down the hall. Wooyoung supposed that was their friend, judging by Ryujin and Yeji’s faces.

“Time to leave,” Ryujin announced. 

“Come say hi for real if you go to the show,” Yeji said with a wink, taking Ryujin’s hand and following their friend’s path. 

Wooyoung let out a long sigh, slumping onto one of the wooden benches and finally untangling their hands. Their eyes locked and Wooyoung shrieked, for absolutely no reason, or maybe because, for once, he really did have a reason.

A good one.

He leaned his forehead against Yeosang’s stomach and his best friend wrapped his arms around him. 

“Was I hallucinating or have those cheerleaders finally given you the last push you needed?”

Wooyoung laughed again. “I think I needed to hear that he was still doing the same bullshit with other people. I don’t know what happened. Something clicked.”

He tilted his head up, the real question getting the attention it needed.

“Do you think San will believe me?”

“I do.” Yeosang ran his fingers through Wooyoung’s long locks. “He’s so in love with you, Woo. I doubt he wants to lose you over a misunderstanding.”

He’s so in love with you.

Wooyoung could feel the flowers that had withered throughout the weekend timidly blooming again. It was time to trust San one more time and jump into that pool they built together. The pool that was made of all their whispers, praises and promises.

He would sink into the water with eyes closed, wishing only for San to not leave him alone in that pool that was made for two.

“Can you help me send him a message?”

“Sure.”

*

Messages:

j. woo [9:47]: 

hi

i’m sorry for not texting you sooner

i owe you an explanation

can we talk?

***

It was Friday, two days since he had gone to MST and one day since he had messaged San. 

The captain had been radio silent and Wooyoung had been convincing himself that the absence of news didn’t mean bad news. He had needed some time to text San so the least Wooyoung could do was wait patiently for him.

However, it wasn’t easy.

How could it be when it was their anniversary and they had spent hours talking about what they would do that night?

Wooyoung shouldn’t be going to a bar with Hongjoong to distract himself, he should be in San’s flat, watching a marathon of rom-com movies before dinner. And tonight, instead of sleeping in his bed, he should be in San’s arms.

In the midst of everything, Wooyoung was supposed to share with San what had happened in high school; the reasons why he was so private and why it was so hard for him to make their relationship public. 

He was also supposed to confess that he was in love with him and also that he wasn’t actually kissing Hyeon but wanting to run away from him.

Yet none of that would happen. 

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to text him,” Wooyoung sighed as they took a seat next to the window. 

It was their first time visiting this bar but they had heard that the music was incredible and that the prices were really affordable. 

“It sucks to be like this with him on our ‘anniversary’.” 

Wooyoung raised his hands to make quotation marks with his fingers and Hongjoong shook his head.

“It is your anniversary. You planned a date night for it,” Hongjoong reminded him. “It was important.”

“Hi,” the waiter suddenly said, a smile curling his lips. “Do you know what you would like to have to drink?”

“Two beers,” Wooyoung replied, indicating to the waiter that they would let him surprise them with the brand. “Thank you,” he murmured after the man took note of their order. 

He looked at Hongjoong and drew a bittersweet smile.

“I don’t want to pressure him but I don’t know how many days I should wait for his response before going to his place,” Wooyoung admitted, torturing his lower lip with his teeth. “I don’t want him to think that I’m not respecting his space but I don’t want him to think that I don’t care either.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, tapping his chin with his fingers to try to come up with a solution, even though Wooyoung was well aware that the first step was being patient and he was hysterical . 

“I would wait until the end of the weekend and if by Sunday night he hasn’t said anything, I would go there on Monday and tell him what you just said. San can always ask you to leave, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung nodded. “Don’t you think I might come across as annoying or something?”

“No. I’d probably appreciate something like that.”

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows once, not wanting to let the opportunity go. 

“What about you, though?”

Part of the reason why Wooyoung wanted to meet up with Hongjoong was to talk about him and Seonghwa, too. Wooyoung had talked enough about San since the celebration party. 

Hongjoong blushed madly , his whole face sparkling a deep red shade as he ran his fingers through his blueberry hair, as though Wooyoung had asked the most difficult question that had ever existed and he truly needed some time to find an answer.

“Actually…” The older medical student darted his gaze away, his lips curled in a smile that told Wooyoung that something had already happened.

Wooyoung hit Hongjoong’s hand, that was on the table.

“Did you talk?”

Hongjoong’s features squinted funnily, his eyes half-closed, his nose scrunched up and his lips pressed in an uneven line. 

“We met last weekend,” he ended up answering, moving his head as if he wasn’t entirely satisfied with his own words. “That’s why I hadn’t put my pyjamas on yet last Saturday when you texted me, because I had just got home after being with him.”

“You didn’t waste a day before texting him then,” Wooyoung teased.

“After I had to postpone my birthday weekend at home, I was like… what if this is a sign? And I thought about what you had told me and before I could overthink it, I sent him a message on Instagram.”

“On Instagram,” Wooyoung repeated.

“Don’t perceive me. I didn’t have enough balls to open our old texts.”

A different waiter set the bottles of beer in front of them and then the empty glasses, going to another table without making any noise, clearly trying not to interrupt their conversation. 

“You panic so much around him,” Wooyoung noted, softly, pouring the beer into the glass. Considering the years Hongjoong and Seonghwa had known each other and all the time they had spent dating, it was adorable to see Hongjoong like this. 

It contrasted with the calm and confident person he had met in his degree. 

Hongjoong laughed. “I know. Thankfully, if he panics, he hides it better than me and the next day I woke up to a message from him.”

God, it was truly endearing to see how someone lit up when they were talking about a person that made them happy. Especially in a good context like this. Wooyoung hadn’t realised how sweet Hongjoong’s tone could get when he talked about Seonghwa because usually every time he mentioned his ex, he did it to sulk or to admit that he missed him. 

That night Hongjoong was radiant. 

Wooyoung drank, his smile pressed against the glass. 

“Why didn't you tell me? Because of San?”

“Not really.” Hongjoong brushed his hair back. “It’s because… we didn’t really talk properly .”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he choked on his beer. He coughed as if he was suffocating, his fist hitting his own chest for a couple of seconds while a snort tried to reach his mouth. 

He was convinced that Hongjoong hadn’t brought Seonghwa up because Wooyoung’s head had been somewhere else because of San. But far from the truth —Hongjoong was trying to get away with his lack of communication, avoiding at all cost having Wooyoung scold him again.

It had to be a joke.

“Don’t tell me you met up just to fuck.”

“ Technically , we met up to have some drinks and catch up,” Hongjoong commented, sounding slightly ashamed. “And I told him that I’ve missed having him in my life, so I haven’t been that dense.”

Wooyoung kept drinking, his eyebrow raised and judging Hongjoong. 

“Were you trying to remember the taste of his mouth when you kissed or what?”

Hongjoong groaned.

“It’s not -.”

Another waiter cleared his throat next to them and Wooyoung wondered if his eyes could pop out of his head from surprise, because in his list of unusual experiences, he never imagined he would have to add that they had not only chosen the bar where Seonghwa worked but they had also managed to go while Seonghwa was on his shift. 

“You can’t reply to my messages but you can come to the bar where I work?” Seonghwa asked, his hands on his hips and his lips pursed in a way that resembled a pout. His eyes landed on Wooyoung then. “Hi, Wooyoung.”

“It was an accident,” Hongjoong mumbled, almost stuttering. 

“Hi, Seonghwa.”

“Which part, not replying to me or coming here?” Now he was fully pouting, as radiant as Hongjoong had been earlier. 

On a regular day, Wooyoung would be messaging San to tell him about this. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sighed when he saw that he had some messages from Yeonjun, some more from Yeosang and a mysterious link from Felix. No San in sight. 

“You texted me this morning,” Hongjoong was talking as if he was scared of saying something wrong. “I was going to reply later.”

Selfishly, Wooyoung appreciated that his friend was here because Seonghwa’s attention was completely on Hongjoong. The hate Seonghwa felt towards Wooyoung must have grown exponentially after the past weekend. 

At times, Wooyoung wondered if he had ever told San that the best thing he could do was to cut Wooyoung out of his life.

“I’m not ignoring you again, I just have an assignment kicking my ass and this is the first moment I’ve had to do something else.”

Wooyoung didn’t miss the way Seonghwa was fighting against his own smile.

God .

Neither of them had remotely tried to move on, he could already tell just by looking at how Seonghwa behaved around Hongjoong. He was doing everything in his power to make sure that Hongjoong was going to reply to him. 

In fact, it was as if Seonghwa had come over just to fluster Hongjoong.

His mind wandered to San, again; to Yeosang repeating that the captain was head over heels, that it was obvious. 

Was it as obvious as it was to him that Seonghwa and Hongjoong needed to have a serious conversation about their relationship so they could be together again?

“You better say yes for making me wait,” Seonghwa said, the grin finally taking over his lips. “Another round?”

They both nodded and Seonghwa took their empty glasses.

Wooyoung snorted once the fashion design student was far enough. 

“Say yes to what, going straight to the kisses next time?” Wooyoung teased just to see Hongjoong groaning and hiding his face in his palms.

“He asked me if I wanted to come over to his flat to see his latest designs this weekend.”

“What I said.”

“Is it really that bad if we sort all of this out while we are fooling around?” Hongjoong asked. “I promise I’ll tell him everything. You were right and I really want him back.”

Wooyoung stared at his phone again. 

Nothing.

“You are so whipped,” Wooyoung murmured. “Can’t believe you spent a whole year not talking to each other.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat again and Wooyoung flinched. It was the freaking second time that he suddenly appeared next to their table without making a single noise. 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa whispered, setting their new beers on the table and going back to the counter, the sweet smile plastered on his lips.

Wooyoung followed the waiter with his eyes. 

“Do me a favour and fix it, please,” Wooyoung begged, still looking at Seonghwa’s back while the latter chatted animatedly with a co-worker. “I’m not one to tell you how to do it but you’ve given Seonghwa the chance to meet again and look at him. He could have been reducing me to dust and instead was flirting with you. It’s cute.”

Hongjoong was flushed as he sipped again.

“I’m sorry about that, though,” his friend said between sips. “I feel like it’s low-key my fault that he has always treated you like that.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “He wouldn’t have a reason to do it if I hadn’t been hiding San for a year. And, to be honest, despite the random comments, he has always been polite. Cold, sharp, y’know, but polite.”

He drew a mischievous grin then. 

“But let’s go back to the funny part again. So you met up to have some drinks and what happened?”

Hongjoong buried his face in his hands again, emitting a dramatic sound. 

“Do you really want me to tell you when we stopped talking and started kissing?”

Still smiling, Wooyoung nodded.

“I need all the details to make fun of you later when you start dating again.”

With his face still hidden behind his palms, Hongjoong spread his fingers to look at Wooyoung through them, a small pout pulling his lips.

“I don’t think we will date again.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Sure. Now tell me what happened.”

Even when he was sad and stressed, there was nothing that made Wooyoung happier than seeing his friends glow. Especially when said friend was Hongjoong finally making a move with his ex, after a long time suffering.

At first, Wooyoung had thought that he didn’t want that for San and him, but he was starting to think that going through rough patches together and finding their way to each other afterwards was, perhaps, exactly the future that awaited them both.

One thing was for sure —Wooyoung wouldn’t waste his time for so many months like Hongjoong did. He would fight for San until the captain understood that he was the one for him.

That he hadn’t wanted anyone else in a really long time.

That he, actually, had never loved anyone like this before.

***

On the verge of a whole mental breakdown, Wooyoung spent the weekend of their anniversary either with Hongjoong or at home with Yeosang. He moped around, especially on Saturday, when he woke up and the captain wasn’t next to him to give him a kiss first thing in the morning, but followed Hongjoong’s advice and gave San some space.

It was tough, the nights getting so long that on both Saturday and Sunday Wooyoung went out to take a long walk so as to not spend so many hours tossing around in bed. 

Yeosang had assured him that everything was going to go well, even if it took some time, but once the moon was up in the sky and he was left alone with his thoughts, Wooyoung was attacked by a thousand voices that swore that San had realised that he wasn’t worth it but just hadn’t found a way to break the news to him.

It wasn’t a new fear, Wooyoung had always been waiting for San to dump him, but San had proved month after month that his golden heart was too good for this world. 

Nevertheless, that didn’t mean that San couldn’t reach his own limit too. 

Maybe, he had realised that Wooyoung didn’t help with his insecurities. It was pointless to reassure him that he was smart and amazing and that everyone that had him in their life was extremely lucky if Wooyoung then kept continuously pushing San under the rug. 

Anything he said flew away with the wind the moment he had spent a whole year behaving as if San was not important to him. It didn’t matter that he had progressed so much in the last couple of months, it still wasn’t enough.

It made him sick to his stomach to consider the possibility that some people at that party were likely convinced that Wooyoung fooled around with the MST coach because barely anyone knew about San and him.

Aside from some of their friends, if the rest of the people at that party had walked in on Hyeon pressing Wooyoung against the wall to kiss him, they wouldn’t have found it out of place. A pair of people making out at a party.

So fucking disgusting. And it was his fault, for not being open about him. 

About them .

Wooyoung walked into the lift of San’s building. 

It was Monday evening, which meant that the captain should have got back from training an hour ago. Yeosang told him that he had discreetly convinced Jongho to have a random date so, unless San had invited some friends over, he should be alone.

Wooyoung’s backpack was hanging from one of his shoulders since he had taken the bus directly to San’s place after his lectures. 

He wasn’t wearing his best clothes, something that shouldn’t bother him so much because, precisely, one of the best parts of his relationship with San was how natural they were around each other; they could list each other’s pyjamas and favourite sweatpants for a reason.

Wooyoung pulled at his leather jacket, staring at his old shoes.

He was overthinking everything .

After taking a deep breath once he reached the main door of San’s place, he knocked on it like he hadn’t done in a really long time. He looked at the doormat under his feet, a gift he had bought with Yeosang a few months ago because neither Jongho nor San liked their previous one but they had been too lazy to get a new one.

A few seconds later, the door swung open and Wooyoung felt like all air got knocked out of him when he finally met San’s eyes after more than a week. 

It hurt to remember that the last time he stared into those eyes they were giggling as they left the toilets of the club, their hands clumsily fixing their clothes and their lips meeting in a few silly pecks before they parted ways.

Wooyoung remembered Hyeon following him outside and cornering him against the wall and how he had been only thinking about the same man that was now looking at him as if he was the last person he had expected to find there.

“S-sorry for showing up like this. I wasn’t sure if you hadn’t replied because you needed some time or because you just didn’t want to talk to me ever again or I don’t know.”

San pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I haven’t replied to your messages.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “It took me days to text you, I get it. I came because I didn’t want you to think that I was ignoring all of this.” 

On his way to San’s flat and during the weekend, Wooyoung had imagined this conversation multiple times. He had pictured all the possible scenarios, the good ones and also the heart-breaking ones. In all those cases, Wooyoung couldn’t guess how his first reaction upon seeing San would be.

He found out at that moment that his first reaction was drawing a side smile and murmuring, “I’ve missed you.”

For a really long time, there used to be a high wall separating them because of Wooyoung. That evening, the wall was back. It was rusty and strange, as if it shouldn’t be there, though the worst part was that San was the one who put it there.

His privileges were revoked —he couldn’t come in as though this was his second home. He couldn’t hug San for no reason. He couldn’t tell him, completely unprompted, that he looked adorable but also fucking hot with his glasses and his dishevelled hair. 

Even confessing that he had missed him felt wrong. 

“Wooyoung…” San sighed, rubbing his nape with his fingers. “I’ve missed you too.”

But .

Wooyoung could hear it hanging in the air between them.

It wasn’t enough to miss each other. San hadn’t even invited him to come inside.

“But I hurt you,” Wooyoung supplied, bitter. 

“I think that what hurt me the most was only hearing about you through other people. And I know that’s my fault because I could have reached out too but I was feeling so shitty.”

San chuckled and Wooyoung wished he could do the same, but apparently that day he had no laughs or tears left. 

Just emptiness.

A void in the middle of his chest.

“A part of me has always been waiting for you to find someone better than me or someone that could help you feel comfortable faster than me, so that night when I saw you with that coach it was as if my fear was finally real.”

A cold, unpleasant shiver licked down Wooyoung’s back.

“Then Miyeon and Minnie told me that you knew him and after that you never came back to the party and yet I’m so fucking stupid that I still took your coat home because I didn’t want you to lose it.”

“You really thought I would do that to you?” Wooyoung whispered. “Y-you thought I would kiss someone else out in the open when I had been with you not even two hours before that?”

San tilted his head down.

“I didn’t want to believe it but at the same time… you only started being seen in public with me after we entered the championship and we kept winning matches,” San mumbled. “The Wooyoung I think I know wouldn’t do that but there’s always the Wooyoung that I know nothing about and that you say is so awful fucking haunting me.”

Everything was so wrong .

Even though Wooyoung understood where San was coming from, considering San’s own perception of himself and the number of months Wooyoung had been especially cryptic about his past, that didn’t stop San’s words from feeling like daggers sinking into his heart.

Wooyoung didn’t even speak to defend and explain himself.

Had he really been feeding San’s insecurities all along like he had feared?

“And I know you owe me nothing and that you decide your own timing but it really stung to hear my teammates saying that Seungmin’s friends had seen you at MST,” San confessed, his voice low and laboured. “I hadn’t heard from you since the party and I had to do it through my teammates. A couple of them even made jokes about you being so smart you caught a coach. I know they didn’t say it in a bad way but I couldn’t even tell them that in theory you were with me.”

San let out another laugh.

“Well. ‘With me’,” San sighed. “We weren’t even together, were we? We never talked about it, just kept doing all those things without setting any boundary.”

Wooyoung felt like he was bleeding inside. The flowers that were starting to bloom again trembled under the thunderstorm and Wooyoung had to blink to prevent the tears from breaking free. 

He had cried so fucking much in the last week.

“You aren’t going to say anything?” San murmured after a silence that wasn’t as long as it felt.

“I’m sorry, San,” Wooyoung mumbled in a thin voice. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you were replaceable or like I was waiting for someone better . I never lied when I told you that you aren't stupid or that you are incredible. If anything, I was the one who never understood why you were so patient with me.”

“Do you really not know why after all this time?”

Wooyoung’s throat got dry.

“I asked you to stay over at mine to celebrate that it had been a year since we started… this ,” San reminded him. Even though Wooyoung hadn’t forgotten it. “Do you really think…?” 

San sniffed and Wooyoung’s heart broke further when he saw the captain holding back a sob. 

“I didn’t call it our ‘anniversary’ because I didn’t know if that would be too much.”

“I called it our anniversary with everyone except you.”

San’s lips stretched, but he didn’t draw a smile.

“That has been our thing for a long time, hm? Both of us keeping things to ourselves just in case, doing things that friends don’t do but never putting a name on anything,” San whispered, sounding defeated; sadness lacing each one of his words.

The captain shook his head, slowly.

“I didn’t know I was so tired.”

Wooyoung’s lips quivered while the first tear kissed his cheek like San hadn’t done.

“Are you not going to let me explain myself? Is it so hard t-to forgive me for…?” For what? For hiding him for so long? For not being honest sooner? For the mess he had caused?

Is this a goodbye?

He hadn’t been able to share his side of the story but San wasn’t giving him the chance to do it. He was talking and talking, somehow sharing with Wooyoung secrets he hadn’t shared before but not showing any interest in what Wooyoung had to say.

San’s eyes locked with Wooyoung’s and Wooyoung let all the nerves and the tension from the previous days tear him to pieces the moment San’s palm cupped his cheek to wipe his tears away.

“I need… some time,” San explained. “Not to forgive you , because it’s not that. I’m not… mad. I’m just sad and hurt, and on top of that I’m anxious because of the upcoming match and the sudden exam I have on Friday, I’m stressed as fuck because it seems like Mingi’s injury is back and I feel so much pressure I’m barely sleeping so I’m…” 

San shook his head, stepping forward.

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and for never being as transparent as I should have been. I was so obsessed with your comfort that, at times, I kind of neglected mine but that’s… really not your fault.” San’s expression would never leave Wooyoung’s mind. “I want to be able to listen to you like you deserve and I want to fix it, but I don’t trust myself with any of that today.”

Wooyoung placed his hand over the one San held on his cheek, caressing his wrist.

“You were never the problem,” Wooyoung murmured. “I should have been clearer with our relationship, at least. But I always left you in the shadows because I was so scared of losing you. I’m so sorry for that.”

San removed his glasses and Wooyoung hiccuped when he saw the tears glistening on San’s cheeks too.

“Don’t cry, Sannie,” Wooyoung pleaded, his hands framing the captain’s face. 

San’s lips curled into a full smile and if Wooyoung thought his heart was already broken, the mere gesture proved that it still had room for another crack when the captain murmured:

“I’m so silly I can’t stop thinking about hugging you because I’ve missed you so much, but I know it’s selfish to ask you for-.”

San gasped when Wooyoung automatically wrapped his arms around him to pull him against his chest, his backpack forgotten on the floor. His left arm tightened around San's shoulders while the fingers of his right hand buried itself in his red strands.

Wooyoung held him tighter than ever, even though he knew that this time he would have to let him go, even if it was temporarily.

“I’ll wait for as long as you need,” Wooyoung promised. “I swear I won’t leave you unless you ask me to. I want to fix it too.”

Wasn’t it ironic how, for once, it was Wooyoung who promised San that he would be there and he wouldn’t leave?

San pulled back and their foreheads met. Wooyoung moved his fingers until he could press them against San’s mouth, asking him to stay quiet.

“But before I go home, I want you to know that you are the only one for me.” Wooyoung put some more distance between them to look at him properly. “It has only been you since we met. I’m not interested in anyone else.”

Why did all of this have to happen to them?

If Hyeon had showed up later instead of that weekend, Wooyoung would have already told San everything. And hopefully, San would have confided his own fears and Wooyoung would have promised him that he would prove that he wasn’t ashamed of him or trying to replace him. 

San’s shoulders trembled as the captain cried. 

“I’m sorry I’m all over t-the place today,” San stuttered after Wooyoung moved his hand to caress his cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you and I have so many things in my head and it’s just… I know we have so many things to talk a-about, not only about w-what happened at the party. I don’t w-want you to leave thinking I d-don’t care.”

“I know you care.” 

If San didn’t care, he wouldn’t be crying nor holding onto him as if he was genuinely afraid of not having another chance to hug Wooyoung again.

“Can I wish you good luck before the exam and before the match?” Wooyoung murmured, their lips a breath away from brushing and his heart skipping so many beats that he wondered how he was still so stoic. 

The tables really had turned and San was the one setting the pace now. Wooyoung would respect his space and wait until San’s life had slowed down enough for the captain to not feel like everything around him was too much . Because even if San hadn’t stated it clearly, Wooyoung had read between the lines. 

He knew how useless San felt when he was overwhelmed. How he felt like he couldn’t handle anything when he was like this.

“Please,” San nodded. 

“Okay.” Wooyoung beamed. 

“Will you really wait for me?”

“You are not getting rid of me that easily, Choi San.”

San blushed and god , how Wooyoung wished he could nuzzle against his cheek and kiss him stupid. Even in the middle of their peculiar argument, San didn’t stop disarming him with his simple presence. 

Wooyoung leaned onto the tip of his toes and left a lingering kiss on San’s jaw.

“Take care, captain. See you at the match.”

San’s dimple popped up after the kiss and Wooyoung learnt, then, that some flowers were resilient enough to survive a thousand thunderstorms if, eventually, the sun danced along the sky again.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“All this love, I'm so choked up.
I can feel you in my blood.
All this lust, just one touch.
I'm so scared to give you up.”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung had decided to have faith ; to believe that San would come back and they would find their way to each other. He refused to think that those tears meant nothing. He hadn’t forgotten San asking him if he really didn’t know why he had been so patient with him after all this time nor him saying that he wanted to fix everything.

In some way, the only thing he regretted about that conversation was not hugging him one last time before going into the lift but San’s tone in their texts reassured him that more hugs would come soon. 

Messages:

j. woo [18:30]: 

how’s the studying going?

captain sannie [19:10]: 

tiring

the training doesn’t help

j. woo [19:15]: 

are you resting?

captain sannie [19:20]: 

i try

j. woo [19:21]: 

):

hope you get some good sleep tonight

you promised me you’d take care

captain sannie [19:25]: 

i promise i’m trying

hope you are resting too

***

“I thought that the scariest part was accepting you needed help,” Wooyoung commented, cross-legged on the floor of his living room while he scrolled through the spreadsheet he had made with Yeosang, comprising different therapists, their phone numbers, their addresses, the price, the therapy method they used…

It’s not like they were experts in the field but Yeonjun had a friend studying Psychology and they had asked him for advice to see if he could help them, even if it was just to automatically rule out certain therapy methods. 

“I’ve always felt like the entire journey must be scary as a whole,” Yeosang confessed as he set two tea cups on their coffee table and sat on the couch behind Wooyoung. “Are you going to call your parents to ask them to send you more money? Or what are you going to do?”

Wooyoung bit the inside of his cheek, not turning around when he replied to Yeosang.

“I will tell them some excuse to send me more money and I will join this programme we have at med school, where we get paid to help younger students. It’s not much but it’ll be enough.”

Wooyoung didn’t need any professional help to know that when he was a teenager his obsession with being adored and being the centre of attention came from the lack of time his parents always had to listen to him. 

Now that he was a young adult, he had stopped trying. He didn’t have a bad relationship with either of them and they weren’t the worst parents that had ever existed, but Wooyoung couldn’t confide in them about anything that happened to him. They hadn’t earned that trust.

And it was kind of too late for it, anyway.

Everything changed between them during Wooyoung’s last year of high school, when his parents barely asked him if he was feeling better, even though Wooyoung moved as if he wasn’t alive and had lost a concerning amount of weight. 

Since then, he only talked to Yeosang. And it still took him a long time to open up fully to him.

Yeosang closed his fingers around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“You know they would give you all the money you need, even if it’s a lot and they don’t know why you are asking for it,” Yeosang reminded him. 

“Yeah, but they are already doing a lot by paying for my rent, my food, my degree…” Wooyoung listed. “It feels weird. And this programme might be good for me. I liked to talk to people when I was the president of my class. I like to help and all of that.”

“Do you miss it?” Yeosang asked, taking his cup.

Wooyoung left the iPad on the table, took a sip and turned around ever so slightly to look at his best friend. Gathering his thoughts about this topic used to be so tough. His identity had been completely destroyed by the time Hyeon broke up with him. He had to unlearn everything to grow again and, in the process, Wooyoung found out that some of his old habits weren’t actually that fun anymore.

However, there were others that still begged for some love. For a second chance.

“Talking to more people and being the class president? Yeah. The more I move on from all of that, the more I miss it. I really liked not feeling scared of talking to anyone and feeling capable of fixing anything within my reach.”

Yeosang smiled, staying silent for a few seconds, as though he was seeing the younger Wooyoung right there in his living room.

“I’ve always hated how the football players and your followers made you think that you got popular because of them, when so many people already adored you just for you .” Yeosang’s gaze landed on his cup. “I don’t even think that has changed. So many people adore you now, too. I think it’s hard not to once we get to know you.”

Wooyoung rested his head on Yeosang’s knee, his eyes half-closing when Yeosang caressed his hair. It always felt so special when Yeosang initiated any physical gesture for absolutely no reason; not because he was happy or because they were sad or anything. Just because he felt like it and because, deep down, he had always been too soft for Wooyoung.

“Did you really never consider giving up on me?” Wooyoung whispered.

Yeosang let out a quiet laugh, as though it was a joke or remotely funny.

It was the first time that Wooyoung was brave enough to ask about it directly.

“How much do you remember about our friendship during those years?”

“What do you mean? I remember you there. All the time.”

Yeosang’s fingertips found Wooyoung’s forehead, tracing the side of his face as he sipped again. Somehow, this conversation and this moment felt like healing, too. Like going on with his life after making sure that some old wounds would never reopen again.

Perhaps, because Wooyoung had spent a really long time wondering why Yeosang never left. 

Wondering if he had ever been close to doing it.

“When we met, in elementary school, I had just moved to your area and I was too shy to talk to anyone. I had spent two days sitting by myself in the playground when you came to tell me that you-.”

“That I liked your purple sweater,” Wooyoung finished, clearly recalling that moment in his mind. “It was so cool.”

It had been more than a decade since that moment. 

And despite all the memories that Wooyoung hadn’t been able to hold close to his heart, his first conversation with Yeosang had remained intact, as one of the favourite moments of his life.

“I feel like we’ve been talking non-stop ever since,” Yeosang commented, his voice sweetening, like every time he was smiling. “You introduced me to your friends and made sure that I had all the books I needed. You invited me to your house several times because you didn’t want me to feel lonely.”

Yeosang trailed the slope of Wooyoung’s nose, making the latter beam.

“And you never asked me why I was living with my grandparents or why my parents kept coming and going all the time.”

“You never asked about mine either.”

Yeosang’s fingers were warm against his skin. They felt like family and inherently like Yeosang . Like a fragment of his soul that had taken the form of an angel-looking man with a toned body and a low voice.

Wooyoung hadn’t forgotten the smaller version of his best friend. Not the shyness that embraced him when he showed him his collection of pastel hairpins nor the thin voice he used when he confided in him that he thought he was gay. 

“By the time you met Junseo we were inseparable and everyone also knew me because of you.”

“You had many followers on Instagram without my help,” Wooyoung reminded him.

Yeosang’s caresses came back to Wooyoung’s head and the delicate gesture made the medical student consider the possibility that his own company soothed Yeosang as much as Yeosang’s soothed him.

For many years, Wooyoung had unconsciously skipped through the beginning of their friendship to focus only on the last year of high school and now college. But they had gone through so much more.

“Yeah. People liked my hairstyles and my aesthetic, but that’s not what I was trying to say.” His nails softly scratched Wooyoung’s scalp as he took a longer sip. “Every time you talk about what happened after Junseo, you talk about yourself as if you changed so much afterwards that it was impossible to recognise you, but that was… never true. I tried to make you see that you were wrong for months, until I stopped trying.”

Wooyoung left the cup on the table after gulping down his tea and accommodated his head better on Yeosang’s knee, circling his arm around the lower part of his best friend’s leg in some kind of strange hug.

“I did change, though. I wouldn’t have lost so much if I had stayed the same.”

“Are you talking about our former friend group again? Because they kicked us both out and they don’t even get along anymore. They did us a favour. And I was the one who convinced you not to be the president during your last year because you couldn’t even handle yourself and I was worried sick about you.”

Wooyoung tilted his head to look at Yeosang and they both drew twin smiles.

“Still…”

“What? We simply liked football, we still do . We used to go to matches with my grandfather, remember? And our so-called friends were jealous because thanks to those matches we started meeting so many people. In fact, I don’t know if you remember what they told me after my first boyfriend broke up with me. They said that it was my problem for dating a football player.”

Wooyoung grimaced. “I’d forgotten that.” 

Their former group accused them of so many things that Wooyoung had forgotten more than half of them.

“I remember them saying that I had turned into an entitled bitch and that they didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“You were so entitled that when my grandpa passed away, you invited me to spend a whole week with you and made sure that I felt, somewhat, whole. And you were already seeing Hyeon then. And you spent hours at high school tutoring those students that couldn’t follow the pace of the class.” Yeosang rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Were you selective? Sure. Were you mean with people that gave you the same energy? Yeah. Did you bully people or anything of the sort? Never. Were you a bit arrogant and the popularity got to your head? Fifty fifty.”

Yeosang sighed.

“You really can’t imagine how much I hate every single person that has made you believe that everything that happened was your fault or that you deserved it because you were some kind of monster.”

Wooyoung’s hand found its way to Yeosang’s, placing it on top of his.

“You protected me and took care of me for so fucking long that I know I wouldn’t be this confident and happy if it wasn’t for you, Wooyoung.”

He shrugged, as though he had said nothing.

As though he hadn’t just turned his words into a blanket and then wrapped said blanket around Wooyoung’s shoulders, offering him shelter from the world that had stolen so much from him.

“So, no. I’ve never considered giving up on you. It’s us against the world until the end and that will never change.”

“I hate when you get sappy,” Wooyoung mumbled, fanning his face to not end up tearing up. 

God, he was so damn sensitive lately.

Yeosang grinned. “I love you to pieces. I know I don’t say it enough.”

“You’ve been saving my ass for years. I don’t need you to say it.”

Wooyoung inhaled, his hand still covering Yeosang’s.

“I love you more, though.”

Yeosang slid his hand from underneath Wooyoung’s and pointed at him with his finger as he rolled his eyes.

“Who’s the sappy one now, huh?”

Wooyoung snorted.

“You’ve kept me sane,” he whispered. “And thankfully, I doubt my silly brain will ever forget that.”

“Why did you even have to ask that question? We were happily trying to pick a therapist and now I’m soft ,” Yeosang groaned, his hand falling over Wooyoung’s. 

“Do you gag when Jongho tells you that he loves you or what?” Wooyoung asked, jokingly.

Yeosang pursed his lips.

“ Obviously . Give me the iPad.”

Wooyoung leaned his head on Yeosang’s thighs. “No. Touch my hair again. Let me feel special.”

Yeosang emitted a dramatic sound, yet his fingers came back to Wooyoung’s head.

“Fine. But it’s because I’m soft. This is an exception.”

Wooyoung hummed, his eyes closed again. 

Yeah, maybe the real reason why Yeosang had never considered pushing him away was as simple as that —nobody felt like family like the other did.

***

Messages:

j. woo [17:12]: 

good luck on your exam tomorrow

you will nail it

captain sannie [19:57]: 

thank u 

i hope ur right

j. woo [20:42]:

j. woo sent a picture

mars wishes you good luck too

captain sannie [20:44]: 

🤍🤍🤍

ru studying too?

j. woo [20:46]: 

yeah

we have this exam in two weeks but it’s
kinda crazy

we’ll stop at 9:30pm

captain sannie [20:48]: 

rest lots later yeah?

eat something yummy for dinner

j. woo [21:35]: 

how did you know i haven’t had dinner
yet

captain sannie [22:11]: 

i got a feeling

gnight woo

***

After spending most of the evening with Miyeon and Hongjoong preparing for an exam that was going to steal the last bits of his sanity, Wooyoung had come back to his flat with part of the conversation he’d had with his friends looping inside his head.

It all had started because Wooyoung was telling them about his short conversation with San a couple of days prior and he had wished the captain good luck on his exam while he was with them. The conversation had casually drifted to Hyeon and although Wooyoung didn’t share much about him, a few parts of the conversation had stuck with him.

So, wrapped in his pyjamas, he knocked on Yeosang’s door even though it was past midnight. 

“Yeah?” Yeosang replied.

“Can I come in?”

“H-hm.”

Wooyoung twisted the doorknob and walked into Yeosang’s room, finding his best friend with a lit candle, a metallic water bottle next to him and his iPad on his lap. He was likely watching a movie or the new videos from his favourite groups, like he did almost every night when he wasn’t reading fanfics.

He grabbed a cushion and curled in bed next to Yeosang, who pressed play after a few seconds in silence. 

Wooyoung stared at the screen but didn’t pay attention to the idols that were reading comments to each other whilst poorly holding in their laughs. Yeosang giggled here and there, bringing a smile to Wooyoung’s lips even if he didn’t know what they had said.

Eventually, the video ended and Yeosang set the iPad aside to take a sip of water before lying down next to Wooyoung. 

They had spent an incredible amount of nights like this —Wooyoung and Yeosang keeping each other company in complete silence, waiting until the one that had something to say found the courage to speak.

Yeosang’s candle smelled like honey and pumpkin. Spooky , somehow. Like what autumn would smell like if it was turned into a candle.

“I asked Hyeon not to call me ‘baby’ and he did it anyway,” Wooyoung whispered. “I’ve hated petnames for so long because of him and I’ve realised that it’s because he never asked me if I liked them. He never listened when I said things he didn’t want to hear.”

Yeosang rolled onto his side to look at Wooyoung, although the latter kept staring at the ceiling. 

“He called me ‘slut’, too. It made me feel so… gross.”

Wooyoung had distanced himself from his own memory to not get hurt, yet in Yeosang’s company and after the conversation with Miyeon and Hongjoong, it was as if he could feel those same emotions again. 

It was like getting closer to his memory but carefully.

“I thought I was stronger but I crumbled when I saw him.”

“Wooyoung,” Yeosang murmured, hesitantly. “I know we’ve never talked in detail about it because you hate it but… have you ever considered how fucked up everything was?”

Contrary to the memories of the night of the party that still felt, in some degree, his own, Wooyoung had run so far from his teen memories that he looked back at his past with the eyes of someone who had seen the very same movie before and already knew that they would hate every part of it.

He felt pity for his younger self, but thankfully he didn’t blame himself as much anymore.

“It’s like I know but I don’t know at the same time,” Wooyoung admitted. “I’ve googled things before and it feels wrong to see myself in some definitions.”

“Wrong?”

Wooyoung looked at his best friend.

“Yeah. Wrong as in what if I’m making all of this up. What if I’m exaggerating and I just made everything worse in my head.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “But if I was, I would feel better now, right? I wouldn’t need help and I wouldn’t have reacted like this when I saw him.”

It had been a little over three years since Hyeon had dumped him and Wooyoung felt like he had spent the first two avoiding a truth that had turned suffocating. Meeting San and developing feelings for him made the truth grow and when the comparisons had been unavoidable and Wooyoung had learnt what a real partner should be like, avoiding all those descriptions that talked about his experience had been his new defence mechanism. 

Because if he didn’t put a name to it, it didn’t sound so bad . Even if it was.

“It’s scary to think that I might have been a victim when I wasn’t even seventeen yet.”

Yeosang shifted closer without fully invading Wooyoung’s personal space.

“It’s not an insult, Wooyoung. Hyeon is a predator who picks people he can influence and manipulate. He was doing that with that poor cheerleader too. It wasn’t a coincidence. I’m sure that if you search the word ‘groomer’ on the internet, the result will be a picture of his fucking face.” 

Yeosang talked slower than usual, though Wooyoung couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want to scare him or because he wanted to make sure Wooyoung was understanding. 

“I thought that it was so cool that college guys hit on me but now I wanna throw up thinking about hitting on people that are still in high school.” A sad smile adorned his lips. “I want to protect the teen version of me so he doesn’t have to listen to Hyeon telling him that everything was just a bet while people were filming as if he didn’t deserve any privacy.”

“He made it sound cool,” Yeosang corrected. “He drove you around, bought you gifts and had you all over his feed. He lied and gave you everything you wanted and more so only he had the power to decide when to leave.”

Wooyoung copied Yeosang’s position and tucked his hand under the pillow.

“He left me because he got bored of me. He used me for almost a year and then laughed in my face because I was starting to catch feelings.”

Wooyoung chuckled.

“ Feelings ,” he repeated in a mocking tone. “I was obsessed with him. In the worst way possible. I wanted him to like everything I did. I was always trying to get his attention and to do whatever made him happy. But he never made me feel safe or heard, just like I wasn’t enough or like I needed to keep him happy or he would leave.”

At times, a good comparison could be so revealing.

“When I met San, the reason why it took me so long to accept my feelings wasn’t only that I was scared,” Wooyoung confessed, quieter. He had suspected for weeks that this was another reason but the encounter with Hyeon had confirmed it. “I thought love had to be a rollercoaster and feeling on edge and ready to jump off a cliff at any given moment. I used to be so… frenetic . I was terrified of picturing my life without Hyeon, even though I wasn’t the happiest with him.”

His smile softened when he thought about the captain.

“San is peace.”

Yeosang smiled at him.

“He has never made me feel like I needed to jump off a cliff to prove anything to him. And he never takes more than what I’m ready to give him.” The emptiness in his chest filled with warmth. “San listens to me even when I’m ranting about something he doesn’t understand and when I’m sulking over stupid things like a classmate who didn’t do their part like I wanted for our group project, he comforts me and cracks his cute jokes until I’m laughing.”

Wooyoung traced his necklace with his fingers. He hadn’t stopped wearing it, not even when he wasn’t sure if San still wanted him around.

 “I’ve always been scared of San getting tired of me but San has never stopped reassuring me that it would never happen.”

“He’s such a good guy, Woo. The first few months I wasn’t sure if you would panic and run away, but San?” Yeosang shook his head. “I already adored him because of Jongho but when I saw him with you I got why he’s so important to Jongho. I knew he would stick around, even if it was as a friend.”

“We never were only friends,” Wooyoung pointed out.

“No, but that’s what you said to me every time we talked about him. Even if I hadn’t asked, you always needed to remind me that you were just friends.”

“I want to date him so bad.”

“I hadn’t noticed it.”

Wooyoung smacked Yeosang’s arm and the latter cackled.

“But for real, Hyeon is a piece of shit. And all those definitions you’ve read fit because it was real. I saw you before the relationship, during it and after. I heard what you told me about it and I saw the effects he had on you. It was real and it still is.”

Wooyoung’s heart sank again, though it felt rewarding to talk about it with Yeosang and not overthink by himself. There wasn’t space for his brain to play its little tricks.

“And you are strong. Don’t believe what your head says and listen to me: you’ve been trying to get better for years. You did what you thought was best for you and you have been working on yourself for a really long time.”

Yeosang didn’t lie to him, that had been one of the roots of their relationship for as long as Wooyoung could remember. He might have wanted to believe that his best friend was lying a fair amount of times, but the only truth was that Yeosang never lied to him.

So Wooyoung took a deep breath and navigated through all the whispers in his head that told him that he could have done more, that he hadn’t tried enough, that he had been pathetic.

“Therapy is going to hurt,” Wooyoung mumbled.

Yeosang nodded. “But it’ll be worth it. We will be here to comfort you after each session.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Yeosang tapped his bed. “Are you sleeping here with me?”

Wooyoung hummed. “Tell Jongho I’m taking my spot back.”

Yeosang giggled as he reached out to take his phone from the nightstand. 

“I’m going to send him a picture and wait for his revenge.”

“I’ll sleep with one eye open just in case.”

“You should.”

***

Messages:

j. woo [14:16]: 

no luck today because i know you will
win the semifinals

captain sannie [14:25]: 

how can u be so calm

j. woo [14:28]: 

because i’m not playing?

captain sannie [14:29]: 

true

see you later?

j. woo [14:30]: 

if you want ♥

captain sannie [14:31]: 

i miss you

j. woo [14:31]: 

miss you too

***

Wooyoung knocked on Yeosang’s door and went inside after his best friend made a non-committal sound. 

“I was already considering wearing it before the mess happened but now I can’t tell if it’s going to be too much,” Wooyoung said as he stood at the entrance of Yeosang’s room.

He stretched his arms and twirled to show Yeosang his outfit, that consisted of his baggy zebra-print trousers and the black crewneck sweatshirt that had the DJV logo on the front and San’s name and football player number on the back. 

“He gave it to me a few weeks ago but I hadn’t felt brave enough to wear it yet.”

Yeosang was sitting on his bed with a hand mirror between the fingers of his left hand and a brush between the fingers of the other. He gave Wooyoung a quick look, as though he had seen enough, and continued with his make-up, smiling.

“Wear it.”

“I’m being serious, Yeosang.”

“Me too. I think you should wear it.” He changed the brush to a shorter one to be able to trace his brown wing. “Didn’t you tell me that San asked you if you really would wait for him? That’s one way to show that you are still waiting.”

For once, Wooyoung wasn’t worried about other people’s reaction nor about what they could say. His only priority was what San might think when he saw Wooyoung wrapped in his clothes when they hadn’t even talked things out yet. 

But he had said he missed him and that he wanted to see him after the match.

“Also, you told me you’ve texted a little bit these last few days,” Yeosang reminded him, tilting his head to admire the final result of his wing. “San is not mad, Woo.”

“Yeah but…” Wooyoung caught his lower lip between his teeth. “I don’t want to pressure him or anything. I just feel like wearing his sweatshirt.”

Yeosang tilted his head again to do the wing on his other side.

“I think it’s cute. And it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are together . You’ve seen Yeonjun wearing Taehyun’s sweatshirt too. Even Beomgyu’s and Binnie’s.” 

He pointed at Wooyoung with his brush.

“No more overthinking. Do it.” Yeosang proceeded to point at his hair afterwards. “Can you help me braid part of it?”

*

The TMH team was one of the most respectful and professional teams in the entire championship. If Wooyoung’s mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, he recalled that they had ended up in third place last season. Jongho and San had told them that they hoped they had the chance to go against them because they thought it would be a really interesting match. 

Difficult, but very interesting.

Mingi was, sadly, sitting on the sidelines, or better said, he wasn’t playing the full 90 minutes like he used to. Wooyoung hadn’t had the chance to ask San about the severity of Mingi’s injury. Maybe they would ask him to play for a short period and that was it.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure about the strategy they would follow.

But he was damn sure that something was wrong , and not precisely because of Mingi, the moment the DJV players had walked onto the pitch and he had caught a glimpse of San’s face.

All of them, including Miyeon and her friends, had got close seats, which meant that they could clearly see the player’s faces without having to squint, and San didn’t look well enough to play the fucking semifinals match.

There were concerning dark circles under his eyes, his usually healthy skin looked pale and by the way he was moving, Wooyoung had guessed that he wasn’t even fully focused on the match. It was as if his physical condition had worsened alarmingly since the last time they had seen each other, a few days prior. 

“He looks sick,” Wooyoung had murmured as the players got to their positions.

“Jongho said this week has been draining,” Yeosang had replied.

“Maybe he is getting sick because of all the nerves and anxiety and he will sleep twelve hours straight tonight,” Yeonjun had added, patting Wooyoung’s thigh with his hand. “Don’t worry, Youngie.” 

“I hope so.”

Sadly, none of that had been true and towards the end of the first half, Jungkook had already made San go back to the sidelines to regain his energy for the second half. He looked even worse than before after playing for almost forty-five minutes and Wooyoung’s heart was about to escape his chest by thinking about the captain having to go through the second half. 

When the break rolled up, the scoreboard marked an anxiety-inducing tie.

1-1.

Wooyoung went to the bar to get more drinks for Yeosang and Yeonjun, and he was surprised by Seonghwa’s presence in the queue. He was aware that Seonghwa never missed a match but it had to be the first time that they saw each other before the match ended. 

“Hi,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stood behind him.

The last time they met, Wooyoung had been convinced that Seonghwa must hate him even more than before. After his last conversation with San, Wooyoung couldn’t tell if that hate might have decreased or quite the opposite. 

If it wasn’t because Jongho was clearly hoping that everything worked out, Wooyoung wouldn’t even sleep at night, convinced that San’s closest friends didn’t support their relationship. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa said, pocketing his phone and drawing a quick smile. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.” 

It was tense as they both approached the counter. Wooyoung, both intimidated and in need to have a regular conversation with Seonghwa for once, blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

Thankfully, it wasn’t Hongjoong related.

“Did you come by yourself?” 

“Oh, no. I came with Minho but he was too busy texting his boyfriend to come to the bar with me.”

Wooyoung nodded, looking at the DJV cap that the other man was wearing. 

Had he ever tried to actually talk to Seonghwa?

Seonghwa had always been so clear about how little he liked his company that after the first hang-out at San’s flat, Wooyoung had avoided the fashion student at any given chance.

Which was funny, in some way, because Wooyoung could recite many things that Seonghwa liked and many of his traits too, not only because of San but also because of Jongho and Hongjoong.

It was like knowing someone you didn’t actually know.

“What do you want?” Seonghwa asked when they were finally in front of the bartender.

“A bottle of water, one decaf latte and a beer, please,” he said, almost choking on his own spit when he saw Seonghwa automatically paying for all of the drinks, even though he had only ordered a beer and a small snack. 

Wooyoung stared at Seonghwa, his arms leaning against the counter and his mouth closing and opening for a couple of times.

“T-thank you.” He nodded. 

“Don’t worry.”

Wooyoung dropped the bottle of water into his tote bag and took the other two drinks, nodding again. 

“See you later.”

Seonghwa’s gaze took a good amount of seconds to go from the sweatshirt Wooyoung was wearing to his face, another tiny smile adorning his lips and a particular sparkle behind his dark eyes.

Wooyoung blushed.

The design of the generic team sweatshirt was slightly different to the players’ version, so it wasn’t hard to tell that Wooyoung was wearing the latter and therefore must have a player’s name printed on his back.

“Enjoy the rest of the match,” Seonghwa murmured, turning around to go back to his seat after adjusting the sweatshirt over Wooyoung’s shoulder, as if he was saying without words that he saw that it was San’s.

Wooyoung arrived back at his seat right on time for the beginning of the second half, his heart getting stuck in his throat when he saw that San was on the pitch again , despite how freaking sick he looked.

“Why is he playing again?” He muttered, mostly to himself, groaning into his hands. 

Yeonjun caressed his thigh. 

“Maybe he thinks he can do it,” Yeosang murmured.

“He pushes himself every time he plays,” Wooyoung explained, taking a long sip of water. “I know it’s the semifinals but I swear .”

San looked so off.

Sure, Wooyoung could spot that something was wrong from afar because he could notice any little difference in the captain, but he bet that anyone that had seen San play before could see that something was different .

He was slow. Disoriented. And yet, surprisingly resolutive when the other team tried to steal the ball. 

At least, the other team was not as physically aggressive as some that they had played against in the past. Their strategy was calculated, aggressive in the movements but not in the way they treated their adversaries. 

All in all, Wooyoung could see why Jongho and San wanted to play against them. If it wasn’t because he was so worried, he would have been hooked from the very first second, soaking in the way both teams perfectly executed their skill to try to enter the finals. 

Towards the middle of the second half, every time San halted for a couple of seconds or didn’t need to be running at full speed, he massaged his neck and took deep breaths before going back to the game.

Wooyoung saw Jungkook gesturing towards the sidelines and San shaking his head.

“I hope there’s no extra time because I think I’m going to go crazy if San doesn’t stop playing.”

Yeosang chuckled.

“I said that Yunho was going to score two goals without needing any extra time,” he reminded all of them, clearly not wanting to make Wooyoung even more nervous by insisting on how bad San looked.

Wooyoung was anxiously playing with the hem of his sweatshirt to calm his nerves when San tripped but promptly composed himself and kept running. He cursed under his breath and held Yeonjun’s hand, which was still over his leg. 

“Why is he so fucking stubborn?” Wooyoung murmured, drinking more water.

Not even ten minutes later, he lost balance again when a rival player tried to steal the ball from him. Though that time, San fell to his knees, panting. The other player offered him a hand to come back to his feet and when San tried to stand up again, his body lost balance again and slumped onto the field.

The match paused and in a blink, Jongho was crouching down next to San while other players and the paramedic ran towards them. 

Wooyoung looked between Yeonjun and Yeosang, his heart almost breaking his ribs and his hand crushing the plastic bottle of water. He looked at the field again, his eyes filling with tears at the sight of the captain, who seemed to have passed out and hadn’t come back to his senses yet.

“Fuck it,” Wooyoung exhaled, standing up to move towards the stairs.

It was impossible to patiently wait in his seat until someone updated them on San’s state. The rational side of his head was telling Wooyoung that San’s body was likely in urgent need of a break after so many weeks of studying and training, plus everything that happened between them, plus the pressure of being such a dedicated captain, plus the lack of sleep.

A person couldn’t take so much without a major disaster.

Perhaps, he had even fallen sick because of the exhaustion and underneath all the adrenaline, there was a rampant fever that San hadn’t noticed. Or his blood pressure had dropped due to a lack of hydration and proper sleep.

However, repeating to himself that all of this had probably just been a little scary moment and San would be in perfect condition after a few days of real resting didn’t prevent Wooyoung from breaking the rules and running down the stairs.

If the security guards felt like kicking him out of the venue, first they had to catch him. He took advantage of the commotion to sneak onto the pitch and ran in the direction of the paramedics, who were checking San’s vital signs. 

He heard people talking to him but the only voice that managed to bring him back to his senses was Jongho’s, whose arms circled Wooyoung’s shoulders once the latter joined the small crowd. 

“It’s okay. He’s okay,” that was what Jongho was saying.

Wooyoung’s vision focused on San’s figure and his hand unconsciously wiped a tear when he saw that the captain was finally sitting and awake again while the paramedics kept doing different checks. 

Any other day, he would actually recognise what they were doing, but at that moment Wooyoung didn’t even hear Mingi and Yunho telling the security guards that it wasn’t necessary to escort Wooyoung out of the venue. 

The paramedics asked San how he was feeling and informed both him and the coach that he had low blood pressure, which had caused the dizziness and fainting. San said something else to them that Wooyoung couldn’t catch and one of the paramedics nodded while they handed San a bottle of water. 

Wooyoung and Jongho walked closer when they saw that San, albeit exhausted and still slightly dizzy, was fine. Or, at least, not dealing with any major illness. 

The rest of the players, except for Mingi and Yunho, went back to their positions and the paramedics indicated to Jungkook that San needed to hydrate himself, rest and not go back to the game. They also told San that if in a couple of hours he didn’t feel better, then he needed to visit a doctor, but that considering what he had told them, they guessed that San would feel better soon. 

Their eyes met as the paramedics left the pitch, after telling San that they would come back with some food for him and that his teammates could help him over to the sidelines, and Wooyoung, who had already forgotten that they were in the middle of a game, also forgot that they were supposed to have a talk . 

“C-can I help?” 

“Sure,” Yunho replied with a reassuring smile. “We’ll take him there, coach.”

Jungkook nodded and ran back to the sidelines to call another player to take San’s position. 

Jongho helped San back to his feet and Wooyoung slid under one of the captain’s arms, throwing it over his own shoulders whilst he wrapped his own arm around San’s waist. 

“Hi, princess,” San whispered.

Wooyoung tilted his head in his direction, the fresh tears still on his cheeks, his heart still racing in his chest and his mind still blocking the fact that everyone could see them.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Wooyoung pouted. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.”

Slowly, they began walking to the sidelines, Wooyoung supporting San and Jongho walking next to them just in case San got dizzy again and Wooyoung couldn’t carry him by himself. 

“I’ll cook you something tasty later and I’ll go get you a Coke if the paramedics only bring you water,” Wooyoung started rambling, softly, his eyes fixed on San’s face. “I knew you weren’t feeling well the moment you got on the pitch.” He felt out of breath. “Shit. I feel like I’m going to vomit if my heart keeps beating like this.”

San beamed.

“Don’t smile like that. I’ve been so anxious. I almost yelled at your coach when you told him that you weren’t going to take a break and he didn’t insist.”

San’s smile grew wider, Wooyoung’s favourite dimples popping out and making Wooyoung smile too.

“What?” Wooyoung asked.

“You are wearing my name on your back.”

Wooyoung groaned, the blush painting his cheeks and falling down his neck.

“And you ran down here because of me,” San kept going in whispers, as if he was talking out loud to see if the situation sank in.

“I told you, you scared me,” Wooyoung murmured, shyly. “I just… I couldn’t stay there after you fainted. It looked bad from my seat, y’know? The security guards almost took me out, I think they ran after me but Jongho grabbed me and… yeah. I had to come and check on you myself.”

He was still rambling, the anxiety wearing off second by second but not fast enough to keep him quiet.

“Don’t faint again and I won’t have to-.”

“I love you.”

San said it simply, the smile so bright that it was hard to tell that he had fainted not even fifteen minutes ago, although Wooyoung was carrying a big part of his weight. 

It sounded like a truth that he had been keeping inside for so long that there weren’t any nerves left, just relief. 

Soft, sweet relief.

They were already out of the area where the match took place so Wooyoung stopped walking for a split second, as though he hadn’t heard him properly, when the words were actually replaying in his head. 

It was then that the sound of a whistle reminded him where they were, though it was too late to make Wooyoung change his mind. Fuck his fears and what other people said. His demons could eat him up for dinner if they felt like it.

He was too in love to care.

Wooyoung surged forwards, tilting his head up whilst his free hand cupped San’s face, and let their lips slide in a kiss. His body tingled when their lips met and Wooyoung smiled in the midst of the kiss, murmuring against the captain’s mouth:

“I love you too, my captain.”

Wooyoung kissed him again.

“But take a seat before you get dizzy again. You’ve just fainted and need to hydrate yourself and not make any efforts,” Wooyoung added after pulling back, doing his best to sound serious when the truth was that he wanted to kiss him again.

“I love having a personal doctor.”

Wooyoung laughed, guiding San to an empty seat and waving at the players that he had met before, at parties or other matches. He sat next to the captain and took the bag with different drinks and snacks that Jeonghan had probably got from the paramedics.

He grabbed the Coke and offered it to San, smiling when San grabbed the can with one hand and took Wooyoung’s hand with the other. 

“I feel like I’m floating,” San confessed after taking a few sips.

Wooyoung frowned. “Yeah? Are you feeling dizzy again?”

San snorted, shaking his head. 

“Because you are here with me, and you said you love me, and you kissed me in public and…”

It was then that, for a moment, Wooyoung was super aware of his surroundings —the other players on the sidelines, those that were playing not so far from them, the people that were watching the match…

His eyes widened and San caressed the back of his hand.

“Woo?”

“I… kind of… forgot that so many people could see us? And it’s not like I care but, maybe, my anxiety does so, huh…” 

San’s shoulders dropped and Wooyoung saw the captain’s smile faltering. 

“Hey. What I meant was that it would be better if we don’t talk about where we are right now. I still love you, and I still want to kiss you again, and again, and-.”

San shushed him with a longer kiss.

And despite the anxiety bubbling inside his stomach, Wooyoung thought that risking it all had been worth it, because he had longed for those kisses and for those dimples for two really long weeks.

“I’m sorry for not doing it sooner.”

“Shhh. Not now,” San said in a low voice. “We can talk later. Or tomorrow.” 

San emitted a surprised sound after pulling back and burrowed his eyebrows. 

“Fucking low blood pressure,” San muttered, drinking from his Coke again. “I wanted to kiss you more, not to have more dizzy spells.”

Wooyoung caressed San’s knuckles.

“Wanna rest your head on my shoulder?”

San nodded, snuggling closer to him and accommodating his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder, Wooyoung’s free hand soon brushed San’s cheeks and neck absent-mindedly. 

Deep down, Wooyoung only hoped he didn’t end up fainting too when he got home and recalled the entire match and how he had happily ignored all the reasons that had been restraining him for months just because he was so worried that nothing else mattered to him.

Especially because it felt damn good to finally be able to treat San in public like he had always done when no one could see.

*** 

Messages:

♡ kang yeosang ♡ [17:40]: 

♡ kang yeosang ♡ sent a picture

I caught you in HD

Thank you Samsung S23 Ultra

Yeonjun squealed when you kissed San

I shed a tear

Messages:

hongjoong 🤠 [17:50]: 

Tell me Seonghwa is not pranking me

He said that you ran onto the pitch because
San fainted, carried him to the sidelines and…

Let me check my notes

KISSED HIM?

omg

***

“What do you mean by ‘I could barely eat before the match because I was feeling nauseous and I’ve barely slept since last week’?” Wooyoung asked when the lift doors closed behind them. “No wonder you fainted. I told you to take care of yourself.”

Wooyoung hadn’t forgotten that it was partially his fault but his worry was talking through him.

San shrugged, leaning against the mirror of the lift. 

“It’s been a really tough week, okay? I swear I’ve tried.”

Wooyoung pursed his lips as he looked at San.

“You could have hurt yourself fainting like that.”

“I know,” San sighed. “I didn’t want to worry my teammates so when Jungkook asked me if I was feeling okay to play, I told him I was just exhausted after binge studying for the exam and training for so many hours, although I knew that wasn’t true.”

Wooyoung crossed his arms against his chest. 

“Promise me you will never do that again. What are you teaching your teammates with that, hm, captain? You could have kept Mingi company and played just for part of the game.”

San bit his smile and Wooyoung raised one eyebrow.

“Is it funny for you to almost give me a heart-attack, captain Choi?”

When the match had ended, San had gone to the locker room with the rest of his teammates, who were as euphoric as him because they had managed to enter the finals after Jongho —Yeosang failed in his bet— had unexpectedly scored a goal. 

Wooyoung had joined his friends outside and in the time that it had taken the football players and the cheerleaders to join them, he’d had to listen to Yeonjun and Yeosang teasing him for jumping onto the field like that and spending the whole time being lovey dovey with San.

After too many jokes, their friends had emerged from the locker room and, in all those minutes of waiting, Wooyoung had realised that not as many people as he had imagined were looking at him. 

There had been some indiscrete glances and, perhaps, some whispering, but it was something easily avoidable. Something he didn’t even notice if he was talking to his friends and ignoring everyone else.

So, when San had shyly taken the space beside him, Wooyoung had laced their fingers together and kissed the back of his hand before asking in a whisper if he was feeling better.

It hadn’t been easy . But it had certainly been way simpler than he had ever pictured it.

“I’m sorry,” San mumbled.

The lift doors opened and Wooyoung stayed with his arms crossed as they walked to his flat.

“I didn’t think it would get that bad. I thought I would feel shitty and a bit dizzy but that was it.”

“I bet you hadn’t even drunk enough water.”

San pouted and Wooyoung shot him a judgy glance, with squinted eyes and scrunched up nose included. 

“How can you be so cute when you are scolding me?”

Wooyoung practically punched the code into the keypad, clenching his jaw to not break into a fit of giggles. He had missed being like this with San like he would miss the sun if he spent too many days inside. 

The emotions of the past couple of hours had been so intense that there wasn’t any space left for his usual negativity. Wooyoung wanted his relationship with San to work and he was going to explain himself properly so they could move on and also set real boundaries and labels on what they had.

They walked inside and although San still moved slow enough to not catch him off guard, Wooyoung gasped regardless once his back met the closed door and the captain’s hand trailed his cheek with his fingers.

Caving in, Wooyoung grinned.

“How are you feeling?”

“Weak. A bit weird. But better.”

San tucked a strand behind his ear like he always did and Wooyoung contained himself enough not to close his eyes at such a simple gesture. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” San said, his fingertips setting a fire down Wooyoung’s nape with their soft caresses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk things out on Monday. I still think it was the right thing to do but this week sucked even more than the last one.”

Wooyoung took San’s wrist and kissed his palm.

“I’ve made you wait for me for months. I couldn’t get mad at you for asking me to wait a few days.”

And this week Wooyoung’d had some life-changing conversations with Yeosang that had cleared his mind and helped him pick better words to explain himself. Therefore, waiting hadn’t been easy but not everything had been entirely bad.

“I was a bit scared I was too harsh or rude to you,” San admitted. “But you texted me like you promised so I guessed maybe I wasn’t and it was all in my head.”

Wooyoung smiled, their fingers intertwined like they had been back at the game. 

“I thought you were going to dump me, so… Asking me to wait was like music to my ears.”

San shook his head as he caressed the back of Wooyoung’s hand.

“Dumping you was never an option to me. Even when I thought you had found someone better than me.”

Wooyoung chuckled, because it was ridiculous to hear San repeat that, in his head, it would make sense that Wooyoung would leave him for someone else; for someone, in theory, better .

As if it was remotely possible to find someone better. Or as if Wooyoung had any interest in finding someone new. 

“Hyeon wished he could actually compete with you,” Wooyoung murmured. 

San’s chest grew as he took a deep breath. Somehow, it seemed like the question terrified him, and Wooyoung could imagine why. After all, it would open a door to actually talking about all those topics that they had been putting aside for so long.

However, he caressed Wooyoung’s hand again and asked, “What happened, Woo?”

As every damn time, his blood ran cold and his lungs forgot what breathing meant, but instead of giving a vague answer, Wooyoung motioned towards the living room so they both could take a seat to talk about everything.

It was going to be long.

He filled a jug with water and sat next to San after setting the jug and two glasses on the coffee table. 

“I have only one condition before saying anything,” Wooyoung said as he poured water into their glasses. “No handmade food but we order dinner before I start talking. You said you’ve barely eaten and I have many things to tell you.”

San brushed his thigh with his fingers.

“Okay.”

Used to ordering food together, in less than ten minutes they picked a pizza place they liked and ordered their two favourite pizzas and a box of chicken wings. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else while we wait?” 

San’s fingers moved up and down Wooyoung’s legs, his smile slowly turning into a permanent element on his face. 

“I’m fine. I believe I won’t faint again while we wait for dinner.”

Wooyoung pouted and San chuckled.

“I promise. I just feel a little bit like jelly. I guess because I’m not used to all this low blood pressure thing and also because I’ve had some shitty days.” He squeezed Wooyoung’s thigh. “Don’t worry, angel.”

Wasn’t it out of the norm to act like this even though they had so many things to talk about? Wooyoung thought that the day San gave him the chance to explain himself, he would be shaking inside while trying to keep his composure in front of San. 

It had been so far from the truth —he was… almost calm. The amount of nerves gnawing his bones weren’t unbearable and they hadn’t triggered his anxiety, which was still under control despite how scary it still was to open up like this to San.

Likely, the previous love confession during the match had been like a confidence shot, Wooyoung repeating to himself that if San loved him, he would stay. That he would understand like Yeosang and Hongjoong did. 

Wooyoung let out a long sigh after nodding.

“Okay, so…” 

Unable to stop touching the captain, Wooyoung laced their fingers again over his thigh and he kept his eyes fixed on their hands because he wasn’t sure he could handle looking San in the eye right now.

“The night of the party, when you left to go check on your classmates, I was waiting for you with Miyeon and her friends. I was dancing and laughing with them when I saw Hyeon and some other MST players.”

Wooyoung cleared his throat.

“He’s my ex. I… forgot to say it. He…” 

Wooyoung cleared his throat again , and raised his gaze to look at San.

“Sorry.” 

San began caressing his hand again.  

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“He played with me for almost a year and made me believe that he was interested in me. I was still in high school when I met him and I felt special having the top college football player interested in me.”

San’s eyes darkened in almost a threatening way when Wooyoung’s story started sinking in, yet he didn’t interrupt him, letting Wooyoung spill his guts at his own pace without making it harder for him with his various comments.

Wooyoung silently appreciated it.

He doubted he would be able to share the whole story that day but he would be content if he managed to tell San a decent summary. 

“Back then, I was really popular too. I was the president of my class, I was always posting stuff on Instagram… I dunno. I started fooling around with guys when I was very young and I was never interested in pursuing anything more, so I guess he saw a challenge?”

Or he adored the idea of having someone younger wrapped around his little finger, like Yeosang had pointed out. Someone easy to manipulate; someone who idolised him and ate up every one of his lies.

Toxic dynamics and all those things that Wooyoung had avoided talking about in depth until a few days prior.

“Anyway, he basically made a joke of me for months then one day decided that I wasn’t funny anymore.” Wooyoung took a sip of water and grasped the skin of his neck with his nails. The memories of that fraternity party vivid in his head as he tried to tell San about it. “He… ‘broke up’ with me in front of everyone. At a party.” Wooyoung cackled. “All his friends knew what he was doing and they didn’t stop him, y’know?”

“Pieces of shit.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “Many people found it so… funny. Especially in my high school. But that’s not… What I was trying to say is that I hadn’t heard from Hyeon until the day of the match. I didn’t want to hear from him. That’s why we were waiting for you far from the entrance after that match, because when I saw that he was the MST coach I…”

He closed his free hand around his leg to remind himself where he was. 

He stared at San, even though his mind was threatening to wander and get lost in thoughts.

“I couldn’t . So we went to a bar to watch the livestream.”

“I didn’t know that,” San mumbled. “That’s why you were so down after the match…”

A tiny smile curled his lips.

“I was a bit shaken up when you came and hugging you made me feel better.”

San moved closer to him and stopped holding his hand to wrap him in another warm, comforting hug, his lips pressed atop Wooyoung’s head.

“I’m glad I could help even if I didn’t know.”

Wooyoung found his favourite spot in the curve that connected San’s shoulder with his neck and he climbed onto the captain’s lap to avoid staring at him while also keeping himself protected from all the bloody memories. 

How could San’s arms feel so safe?

“The night of the party he started following me and I went outside because I just thought that it would be easier to find you. Taehyun told me that you were walking a teammate to a taxi so… I don’t know. It made sense in my head. I didn’t actually think that he would also follow me outside.”

He heard the sharp intake of air above him.

“Hyeon started talking bullshit, pretending to feel sorry, asking me if I didn’t think we were… perfect together… He called me a s-slut and cornered me against the wall, even though I was uncomfortable and I just wanted to run away from him.”

Wooyoung fought against himself when his tongue began tasting like guilt .

Like shame.

And he pulled back to look at San, his palms firm against the captain’s cheeks and his lips quivering but not faltering when he parted them to timidly whisper:

“I didn’t want him to kiss me. I swear I wanted to push him away but when I felt his lips I was… I couldn’t move and it was as if I couldn’t control my own body and he… He didn’t care.” 

Wooyoung swallowed tears. He swallowed until he found the strength to speak again.

“I’m so sorry. Yeosang and Hongjoong said that I don’t need to apologise but I feel so bad . I was only thinking about you when I was with him but I didn’t do anything.”

San clenched his jaw and took Wooyoung’s hands, his head tilting down for a second and coming back up to look at Wooyoung.

“I’m fucking stupid.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “N-no.”

“Fuck. I’m…” 

San chuckled, bitterly.

“That bastard. He’s the one who should be apologising and feeling bad for doing that. Shit. I thought…” San chuckled again and Wooyoung realised, then, that his eyes were glassy, as if he had been holding back his tears. “I would have called you the next morning if I had known. I wouldn’t have made you wait this past Monday. I feel… I’m so sorry, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung smiled. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not .”

“San, you had no idea.”

“He fucking assaulted you and I came into the club thinking you were just making out with someone better than me,” San raised his voice ever so slightly and promptly apologised, though Wooyoung didn’t say anything.

His friends had been careful when using that word.

It slapped when it was spat like that, even though Wooyoung suspected that it was time to call things by its name. His future therapist would probably do it too. 

Incapable of forming a decent reply, Wooyoung blinked.

“B-but you shouldn’t apologise. You’ve always treated me well.”

One of the tears that had been pooling in San’s eyes finally streamed down his cheek.

“I’ve respected you and treated you like another human. That’s all I’ve done. Doing the bare minimum shouldn’t be that special.”

Wooyoung leaned closer and slid their lips together in a sweet kiss.

“You’ve always done more than that.”

“Woo.” San sounded serious as he caressed Wooyoung’s knuckles. “Have you talked about this with Yeosang or Hongjoong? Or, maybe, with Miyeon?”

“More or less. Hongjoong picked me up that night. He scared Hyeon off. I don’t really remember much after that. And I talked more in detail about it with Yeosang a few days ago. Miyeon knows… things . I know she has put two and two together.”

“It must have been so scary. God.”

His arms circled Wooyoung’s shoulders again and Wooyoung succumbed to San’s safety within seconds, inhaling the mix of the soap he used to clean his clothes and his perfume. He gripped San’s hoodie and closed his eyes.

“It was like a nightmare. Especially when I couldn’t move and he didn’t stop… kissing me. I don’t even know how I was able to finally push him and ask him to get away from me because I felt so out of it.”

San’s hand fell down Wooyoung’s spine, climbing up all his vertebrae afterwards.

“I wish I could tell you something to comfort you but I’m so stunned. So mad thinking that someone did that to you. And god, of course you froze. What the fuck. Nobody should deal with something like that.”

“I was too ashamed to talk to you. I wasn’t trying to avoid you on purpose but I felt so awful because I didn’t react.”

San rested his cheek on Wooyoung’s head.

“I meant what I told you: I wasn’t looking for someone better . You have been the only one for me for a year and I’m not planning on changing it. I was looking forward to our anniversary and I had planned to tell you everything that night but everything got ruined and I felt like it was my fault.”

“I could have reached out, but I was so deep in my own bullshit.” San’s voice was low and soft. “After I calmed down and realised it had to be a misunderstanding, I thought that he was an ex or something like that and that things got out of hand but eventually you pulled back and didn’t know how to explain it to me.”

San’s fingers got lost between dark strands. 

“And then, I kind of realised that I knew nothing about past boyfriends or anything and that although I didn’t want to push you to open up, it felt so sucky to be left out when it seemed like even Jongho knew more than me. And I spiralled and felt more and more hurt and then Mingi’s injury got bad again and my exam showed up and sudden insomnia and the nerves because of the match and… all of that.”

“No more past boyfriends. The other football player that was more than a hook-up was named  Junseo and although he was disgusting going after someone who was in high school when he was in college, at least he had the decency of not lying to me. He hit on me but never made me feel like we would have something serious.”

Wooyoung nuzzled against San’s neck, grinning when San shivered.

It certainly was way better talking about something this upsetting while hugging San. Way, way better than sitting on the couch, rigid, staring at each other and not even holding hands, which was what Wooyoung thought would happen.

“I was fourteen and he was nineteen. And he made me believe that it was normal to be a teen hooking up with people that were already in college. But, yeah, it’s just them. And technically, neither of them were my boyfriends so…”

San withdrew to stare at him, eyes still glistering. 

“You’ve been that for me for months,” San confessed. “I know I’ve been in love with you since you offered to help me with that exam, even though I didn’t tell you I needed help. Or even before that. I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been down bad since the very first night.”

“Did you like my kisses that much?” Wooyoung joked.

“I might like them even more now that I know you feel the same.”

Their noses brushed, Wooyoung’s smile couldn’t get wider. 

“Always so sappy.”

San’s breath hitting Wooyoung’s mouth.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamt about taking you out on dates that we actually call dates? Or how many times I’ve bitten my tongue to not tell you that every time I’ve pictured my future lately, I’m next to you? Or how much I’ve just daydreamed about asking you to be my boyfriend, even if only our friends knew?”

Wooyoung had to take a long second to put himself together. 

He had avoided confessing to San so much because he didn’t want to date him until he was ready to stop keeping him a secret, whereas the captain had been willing to keep their love a secret while they both knew what they felt.

“You really wouldn’t mind that nobody else knew?”

“I wouldn’t date you to tell people. Although I would be the happiest human alive dating you and I would love to tell everyone that asked me about you. I don’t know how to explain it.”

They kissed. Short. Soft.

“I would hate it,” Wooyoung murmured against San’s mouth. “It terrifies me to be the name on everyone’s lips again and I know some days I won’t be able to be super touchy with you all the time if we are outside, but I didn’t want to confess to you until I was ready to take a step to make it a bit public.”

They kissed again. Longer, but just as soft.

“You are not a dirty little secret nor someone I’m ashamed of. Quite the opposite.” 

San pulled him even closer until Wooyoung’s legs were wrapped around his body and they turned into tangled limbs and attached lips. 

“I’m so in love with you I’m pissed at myself for not being able to scream it everywhere yet,” Wooyoung murmured, still mouth-to-mouth.

“Can I remind you of what you did today or it might still spike your anxiety?”

Wooyoung groaned, leaning his forehead against San’s.

“I was so worried I literally forgot we were surrounded by so many people. You make me act dumb like that.” The smile came back to his lips. “So dumb, so dumb, that I might ask you to seriously date me so I can change your contact name on my phone and put ‘boyfriend’ with a cringe emoji next to it.”

“Yeah?” San was smiling too.

Sweet smiles kissing.

“I know I still have a long way to go and that my anxiety is a bitch but I will do my best to make you happy.”

“Ask me the question,” San whispered.

Wooyoung felt his heart do a somersault. 

This conversation had kept him, literally, awake at night so many times and it had turned out to be so relieving and reassuring. Better than any of his hypothetical scenarios. 

“Will you be my boyfriend, captain Choi?”

San let out a soft laugh. “I’ll have to think about it.”

And he laughed again, slid their lips together and wrapped his arms around Wooyoung as though making sure that Wooyoung didn’t separate from him. Wooyoung, to no one’s surprise, did exactly the same with him.

They tilted their heads to deepen the contact, their tongues invading each other’s mouths with familiarity and a sweetness that made Wooyoung giggle. He had thought countless times that he could spend a whole day kissing San, but that night Wooyoung was completely sure that it was true. 

A knock on the door made them break away. Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows and suddenly remembered.

“Fuck, the dinner.”

“Let me set the table,” San said as he stood up to go to the kitchen.

They came back to their previous spot on the couch after leaving the pizza boxes, the chicken wings, the plates and a few napkins on the coffee table. That restaurant usually cut the pizzas so there wasn’t any need to use scissors or a knife but, just in case, Wooyoung sprinted to the kitchen to take two beers and a knife.

In silence, they opened their cans. 

Even after asking that question there were so many things to talk about. 

“Was that why you were so scared of being in public with me, because you don’t want people to talk about you again?” San asked, his mouth full with pizza but his voice soft and careful regardless.

Wooyoung nodded, drinking from his beer.

“I used to be so obsessed with what people said about me that I shared so many things about my private life. And Hyeon loved it, because he did the same. Our relationship was so public that everyone thought they had the right to comment on the break up too.”

“Woo, when you said he played with you…”

Wooyoung smiled around his can. “He made a bet with his friends. Because, apparently, I was the cold bitch of my high school who never dated anyone and he thought it could be funny to prove I could fall for someone too.”

“So fucking miserable.”

Wooyoung tilted his head in San’s direction. “I was supposed to never get close to another football player, I’d had enough, but…”

“Now you are dating one,” San smirked, too full of himself to be in the midst of a serious conversation. 

“Love you,” Wooyoung repeated, feeling like he would need to say it a crazy amount of times if he wanted to make up for all the months he bit the confession so it didn’t escape his mouth.

San squirmed on the couch and Wooyoung giggled.

“I think I’m going to panic every time you say it during the next three weeks.”

“I love you, San,” Wooyoung said again.

San playfully pushed his shoulder. “Stop that.”

Wooyoung couldn’t take the smile off his face as he took a bite. 

“Do you really not mind that I need time ? Even if I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret anymore, I know I can’t be like Yeosang is with Jongho. Maybe after many months and after taking many steps, I will, but not now. And I know it’s already been a year so…”

Wooyoung bit into his pizza.

“I don’t want you to put your own feelings aside again. I want us to do this right,” he explained. “I’m starting therapy soon.”

“It’s different now. You’ve told me what happened so I can’t make up a movie in my head,” San assured between sips. “I’m proud of you, though. You deserve to bury those ghosts forever.”

“Will you tell me if you ever feel like that again?”

“I promise. I don’t want another misunderstanding to have us like this.”

Wooyoung snuggled up against him and pressed his lips against San’s jaw, rubbing his nose against the skin afterwards and relishing in the peace that had filled him since he let go of part of the weight that was on his shoulders.

“I still have more things to tell you about high school, but I think I’ve reached the limit today. I’ve told you the most important part.”

San kissed the top of Wooyoung’s head. “I’ll be waiting for the next chapter. I’ve barely told you about high school either, besides me joining the team, me getting outed and all of that.”

Wooyoung hummed, stretching out to grab a chicken wing before curling back against San’s figure.

“Hongjoong told me you were adorable in high school. He showed me some pics.”

San whined. “What a traitor. I kept his secret and he’s exposing me like that.”

“Have you never seen pictures of Yeosang and me in high school? I bet he has sent some to Jongho.” Wooyoung pulled back to find San pouting after shoving the last bite of pizza into his mouth.

“I suspect Yeosang threatened Jongho a long time ago because all the pictures I’ve seen have been of Yeosang or Yeosang with other people. It was never you.”

Wooyoung beamed at the not-so-surprising confession that Yeosang had always done his best to keep Wooyoung’s past locked away until Wooyoung was ready to disclose it. It was impressive, particularly on this matter, because Wooyoung and Yeosang had a million pictures together from their high school years.

And Wooyoung didn’t actually mind if San had seen some pictures.

“I was blonde for a couple of years and I didn’t like baggy clothes as much as I do now. I wore lots of make-up and thought I was cool for smoking.”

“I want to see blonde Wooyoung.”

“I’ll show you pics next week,” Wooyoung promised after another kiss.

“Deal.”

*

“He never told me he thought I was better off without you,” San confessed. 

After finishing the pizza and the chicken wings, opening another pair of beers and cleaning up the living room, they both had moved to Wooyoung’s room. They had changed clothes but Wooyoung had kept the sweatshirt. 

The fairy lights casted mesmerising shadows over San’s face every time he raised his arms to gesticulate while he talked and Wooyoung wondered if San had accidentally casted a spell on him. 

“Never?”

“No. Seonghwa asked me to be careful and he was pissed because we had been fooling around for many months without having any kind of talk about it, but although you weren’t his favourite person, he always said that it was obvious that you made me happy.”

Wooyoung pouted. “Do you think he will like me more from now on?”

“He already likes you more than he did a few months ago. Plus, he’s hanging out with Hongjoong again and he adores you so…”

They were lying on their sides, facing each other. 

Everything looked so normal that it was almost ridiculous to think that they had just fixed an issue that could have turned into a major crisis. In fact, it was funny to remember all the time Wooyoung spent overthinking his conversation with San when the captain had simply listened to him and treated him like he always did.

As if nothing had changed.

Because, to be honest, nothing had changed after the conversation.

Except for the fact that they had put a label on their relationship.

“Why were we listening to their advice when they are such a mess?” Wooyoung wondered as he laughed, remembering the night he found out that the famous ex-boyfriend Hongjoong always talked about was Seonghwa.

“That’s what Jongho said.”

“Yeosang’s side-eye was so funny when I told him. Jongho and him must be so fed up.”

San snorted. “We weren’t that messy.”

“We just messed up a little bit these past couple of weeks,” Wooyoung admitted as he inched closer to the captain. “During the worst timing ever, because I actually got you some presents for our anniversary and I was looking forward to it so much.”

At that, San almost choked on his own laugh, and Wooyoung frowned, confused.

What did he say?

He still hated himself for not reaching out sooner so they could have celebrated their anniversary.

“I got you presents too and Jongho had been laughing at me since I got them.”

“I don’t know how I could have doubts for such a long time. I was so oblivious,” Wooyoung commented, close to getting lost in their kisses again.

“You asked me for the sweatshirt you are wearing and a part of me still wondered what we were so I wasn’t any better.”

Wooyoung’s hand framed San’s cheek as he brought their lips together.

“At first I was so self-conscious with it but I might wear it all the time now.”

“Then I’ll have to kiss you all the time because I love to see you wrapped in it.”

“I haven’t forgotten how you fucked me the first time I wore it at your flat,” Wooyoung recalled, glued to San’s body again.

It didn’t seem like he was able to stay away from the captain. Not after talking things out and confirming that San wouldn’t stop looking at him with galaxies in his eyes. 

It wasn’t the time to pretend he could resist San after missing him so much and actually thinking he might have lost him.

San’s hands trailed down Wooyoung’s figure and pulled him on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his palms settling right below Wooyoung’s butt, at the top of his thighs. 

“Are you getting worked up thinking about it?” Wooyoung mewled with his lips against San’s cheek.

San chuckled, mischievously. 

“I’m getting worked up thinking about fucking you now that we’ve cleared everything up. But thinking about that time doesn’t help.”

“I want to ride you.” Kisses against San’s jaw. “I’ve missed being like this with you.”

“Horny?”

Wooyoung shrieked. “That, too. But I meant…”

How could he put it into words?

There wasn’t a way to do justice to all the feelings that mixed inside him when he was alone with San and they undressed each other as if they were craving something that only the other could give them. 

“I’ve never felt like I feel with you when we are like this.”

Wooyoung nipped San’s jaw.

“And you make me feel so loved and beautiful.” 

His hands slid down San’s chest until they were grabbing the hem of San’s t-shirt and hoodie, pulling at them until he could throw them to the other side of the bed. 

“I feel like I’m high when I have you all to myself and you can only moan my name.”

San tilted his head until he could mouth at Wooyoung’s neck, switching their positions and hovering above the medical student. 

“Y’know, the first time we had sex I came back to my flat wondering if I was so smashed that I thought it had been better than it was,” San confessed as he leaned onto his heels to remove Wooyoung’s sweatpants. “I wondered how it was possible that our best friends were dating but we had never spoken more than a couple of words to each other before.”

“That night you touched me as if you had been doing it for all your life. Fuck, Sannie.” Wooyoung squirmed when San sucked his throat into his mouth. “It was as if you knew every one of my weak spots and what to say to have me begging for more.”

San pulled at the neck of the t-shirt Wooyoung was wearing under the sweatshirt to lick Wooyoung’s collarbones.

“And I’m not only talking about the sex,” Wooyoung whispered, his head craned to the side, giving San permission to ravish his whole being if he pleased. “When we were talking, I also felt so in sync. Like it was so easy.”

“It was easy,” San mumbled, kissing Wooyoung’s neck again. “Falling for you was so easy.”

Desperate hands made quick work of the rest of their clothes while they kept kissing each other; cherishing each other.

The contrast between their ravenous lips and their sweet words reminded Wooyoung of that long evening where he found himself bare in front of San, just like he was now, but with all his feelings staring back at him. So brilliant and loud that Wooyoung couldn’t escape them anymore.

In some way, they were living a parallel situation, but this time their feelings weren’t a surprise, only an expected guest. They jumped from syllable to syllable, got tangled around their limbs and danced in their rib cage. 

They were more visible than any other day, shimmering like the fairy lights couldn’t do. 

Wooyoung could even taste them at the tip of his tongue after kissing San and he could feel them beating under his fingertips when he trailed San’s spine with ease, playing songs with his body as if there wasn’t an instrument that could compete with his bones.

For once, not needing to hide confessions under their skin because all of them had proudly turned into the verses of all those songs that were made only for them to hear. 

Melodies that Wooyoung thought would turn into distorted noise, not into a full symphony that carried their names. 

“Add another,” Wooyoung writhed, twisting the bedsheets whilst San thrust inside him with two fingers, purposely missing his sweet spot. “God, baby . Stop teasing me.”

The petname lingered in the air between them and Wooyoung’s eyes widened as he realised that he hated when someone used it to refer to him but that he could quickly get used to saying it if San liked it.

San grinned, his lips stretched, his dimples on full display, his hair as dishevelled as it always was after Wooyoung ran his hands through it. 

“Not yet, princess,” he whispered in a husky voice right into Wooyoung’s ear. 

To be fair, falling for San had been so easy too. 

Wooyoung couldn’t lie to himself and say that it was solely sex at the beginning, because after a few weeks, they texted each other for many other things. It didn’t matter if they only met up to undress each other, at the end of the day their chat said otherwise.

He could have left San’s flat a hundred times with shaky legs and out of breath, but by the time he got home, he was already texting him again. 

Caving in and hanging out to just be together was a matter of time. Just like their tender kisses, their meals together, the showers at each other’s flat and the cuddles while watching a movie.

A drawn-out moan parted Wooyoung’s lips when he sank down, his head lolled back and his body shivering under the touch of San’s fingers on his thighs. 

“You feel so good,” San heaved after Wooyoung started moving, keeping the pace deep and steady, making them both completely crazy with the drag of San’s length. “And you sound and look even better.”

“You too,” Wooyoung murmured as he took San’s hands and pinned them above his head, kissing him in the process; the moans falling down their throats.

Their teeth grazed the skin and Wooyoung didn’t even consider stopping San when his lips closed around the base of his throat, leaving a mark behind. 

The pace quickened yet the tenderness didn’t disappear as Wooyoung bounced on top of San nor when San threw him onto the bed, Wooyoung’s cheek buried in his pillow and his chest melting into the mattress as the captain crawled on top of him.

San pistoned his hips as if he wasn’t reciting praises in Wooyoung’s ear.

“D-don’t stop,” Wooyoung babbled.

San’s voice cracked in the middle of a moan. 

“Imma cum,” he warned. 

Wooyoung took his own cock in his palm and let that friction do the rest, the movement of their bodies making his hips thrust into his own fist just like he needed. 

Again, the drowning sensation filled the room and Wooyoung’s lips parted in a silent moan as he reached his climax while San kept rutting against him, sloppy and so fucking hot, his voice gone as he moaned on top of him.

He pressed himself against Wooyoung and the latter whimpered one last time, although he couldn’t physically feel the captain filling him up like he actually wanted because in one long year neither of them had brought up not using protection anymore.

Perhaps, he should.

When he rolled onto his back and traced San’s cheeks with his fingers, he couldn’t help but think about that time where he thought having sex like that could help him avoid catching any feelings. He remembered when he realised that he was wrong and that that position was just as intense, especially when they orgasmed and kissed softly right after.

What a damn fool.

“I don’t know how to explain that I’m scared of people talking about us but I wish I could make everyone know you are mine,” Wooyoung uttered, panting while he happily dived into San’s eyes. 

“If my account was private and only people we trust could see my pictures, I would post a few pics I’ve taken in the past year to confirm that it’s been a year and still counting.”

“I’ll let you one day. When I learn how to control my anxiety.” 

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he giggled as if he wasn’t butt-naked in his bed with San pressed against him.

“The bitches from my class must be freaking out.”

“Dahye, Dallia and Haru?”

Wooyoung nodded. “They think I have a crush on you.”

San raised an eyebrow and Wooyoung tapped San’s lips with his index finger.

“A few weeks ago I snapped because they were talking shit about you with the rest of their fans and since then they have been obsessed. I hope they enjoyed our kisses during the match.”

San kissed him. “You defended me and never told me?”

“I didn’t want to tell you what they said.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” San replied, nonchalantly, kissing Wooyoung again. “Dahye likes to pretend I didn’t turn her down at the beginning of the year. She’s always so friendly and nice, but I can’t forget her whining and pouting because I told her that I wouldn’t look at her twice even if she was a guy.”

Wooyoung mouthed San’s neck, chuckling against the bruised skin.

“Is that why she’s constantly repeating that she guesses you suck in bed, considering no one talks about it?”

San gasped when Wooyoung bit into a fresh hickey.

“I was already head over heels with you when she shot her shot. Feel free to tell her I suck so much that you’ve been having sex with me for a year.”

Wooyoung pulled back, biting his lip and feeling himself flush.

“ That shouldn’t have sounded so hot. But I’m not sure she will want to listen to me, she has hated me since first year because her and all her group are stupid and Hongjoong and I always eat them up in all our class discussions.”

“That’s my smart boy.”

“I wasn’t the popular bitch in high school for nothing.”

San’s phone began buzzing whilst they kissed and Wooyoung tilted his head towards his nightstand, not getting what kind of notification was that. A call? An alarm? 

“What happened?”

San left his phone on the nightstand again and drew a suspicious smile as he kissed Wooyoung again.

“San?”

“Happy birthday, Wooyoung.”

“ Oh .” Wooyoung blushed even more. “I forgot… Did you set an alarm for that?”

“You said I had to beat Yeosang and I took it seriously.”

“What if we hadn’t talked things out tonight?”

San made their noses touch. “We missed our anniversary, I wasn’t going to miss your birthday too.”

Likely, the perfect definition wasn’t that it was easy falling for San but that it was inevitable. He wasn’t a mistake Wooyoung would make again but a beautiful surprise Wooyoung wished he had encountered sooner.

As a master in the language of raw honesty and pure love, he had taught Wooyoung that it wasn’t worth it to neglect a part of his life just because his past was a ghost that didn’t leave him alone. And he had also taught him the delicate art of sewing a future together, until he had forgotten which colours he had brought into the mix and which ones had been picked by San, because the aurora painting their sky was too breath-taking to actually care.

He had made him drown and sing without making a single sound. 

And most importantly, he had not only taken care of the garden Wooyoung had built around his heart but also helped him love all the crooked stems that would always be a reminder that better times had already come and that, despite all the storms, the sun wouldn’t disappear for long again. Because if Wooyoung forgot to water the flowers, the people who loved him would do it for him.

Chapter Text

moodboard by encie

“I'm a natural disaster.
But even after, all that I do
It's you who's gonna be the death of me.”

One year later…

Wooyoung checked all of his bags one last time before leaving his flat and running into the lift. He had dyed the bottom layer of his hair blonde just over a month ago and some days he still looked at his reflection as if he didn’t recognise himself.

Yeonjun said that it was because getting healthier had also made him hotter, that it wasn’t his hair. Maybe he was right.

He looked for Hongjoong’s black car and took quick steps in its direction, dropping his bags carefully into the trunk and sliding into the passenger seat.

The person behind the wheel had his entire hair as blonde as Wooyoung’s underlayer, even though the medical student would never try to compete with his friend’s siren aura. 

“You are late,” Seonghwa murmured, pretending to be annoyed, his chin tilted up and his lips pursed to contain a smile.

“You are early ,” Wooyoung retorted. “It’s not six yet.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and Wooyoung motioned towards the long-sleeved dress Seonghwa was wearing. It had a turtleneck and the sleeves were finished with  some kind of gloves that made Seonghwa’s fingers look even longer than usual.

“You finished it.”

The annoyed pout morphed into a radiant grin as Seonghwa started the car to drive to Hongjoong’s place.

“I did. I’m still unsure about the turtleneck but I think I did a good job. Plus, it’s softer than I thought. Did you remember to grab the balloons?”

“Oh, shit.”

Seonghwa shot him a deadly glare before focusing on the road again and Wooyoung bit a smile.

“You are fucking with me, aren’t you? Tell me you are, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung giggled when he saw how Seonghwa was gripping the wheel. 

“San has them and is taking them there after his lecture.”

“Next time, I’m kicking you out of the car and you are taking the bus.”

A year ago, Wooyoung would have never pictured himself bantering with Park Seonghwa while the latter drove them to Hongjoong’s flat, or better said, to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s place, considering Seonghwa had moved in with him a couple of months prior.

Surprisingly, what had started bringing them together was the bittersweet party the DJV football team and cheerleaders had thrown after they finished the championship in second place. 

They had been at Crystal Coven and Wooyoung had gone to the toilets downstairs. At first, everything had been normal, until he heard someone sniffling in the stall next to his own. Not wanting to disturb, he had almost sneaked out of the toilets without making another noise, but then he had recognised Seonghwa’s handbag next to the sink.

An hour later, San had found them locked in the stall, sitting on the floor with Seonghwa still hiccuping against Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Funnily enough, the drama had been that the fashion designer, too tipsy to control his tongue, had sent a voice note to Hongjoong basically telling him that he still loved him. And Hongjoong hadn’t replied yet.

So Seonghwa had been convinced that he had ruined their second chance. 

Hongjoong, who hadn’t been replying because he had passed out really early for once, had panicked first thing in the morning when he had found countless messages from Seonghwa apologising, asking him if he was mad and begging him to forget what he had said. 

He could have just deleted the voice note but tipsy Seonghwa hadn’t thought that was a good idea.

“Miyeon told me she will keep Joong busy until nine so we have around two and a half hours to decorate the living room and get everything ready,” Seonghwa repeated one more time, even though Wooyoung already knew it. 

It was cute to see him so stressed over Hongjoong’s birthday party.

It didn’t matter how many times Hongjoong had talked to him about his insecurities, Wooyoung still couldn’t believe that he’d spent such a long time without Seonghwa when it was mind-blowing how perfectly they fit each other.

Seonghwa’s phone rang.

“It’s him. Fuck.” He picked up as he paced the living room. “Hi, birthday boy.”

***

“You look illegal,” San blurted out when Wooyoung cracked the door open. 

Wooyoung tilted his head to the side, his lips unconsciously forming a silly smile as he looked at San through his eyelashes. He had put on heavy make-up that night, the eyeliner sharpening his eyes and the contouring enhancing his natural features. His bicolour hair had braids on either side, showing off the hoops that were hanging from Wooyoung’s ears. 

His yellow denim shirt was unbuttoned past his collarbones, making Wooyoung’s neckline look neverending, and his tight black trousers, albeit simple, always caught his boyfriend’s attention.

“Do I?” Wooyoung whispered, coyly. 

San stepped closer and his fingers twirled around a wavy strand that fell over Wooyoung’s cheek. 

“I kind of want to get lost in your chest but I promised I would take you to a restaurant.”

Wooyoung leaned onto the tip of his black creepers and wrapped his arms around San’s neck, their lips brushing in some sort of peck whilst his fingers buried in the captain’s black hair. 

He still missed his red hair at times, but he looked so good with this hairstyle.

Especially that night, with his red and black shirt, the tiny corset that hugged his dangerous waist and the black slacks that had Wooyoung’s hands constantly glued to his butt. 

If Wooyoung hadn’t played fairly with his outfit, San had been playing exactly the same game, because even though his make-up was more subtle, Wooyoung could spot the brown tones around his eyes.

“You look so hot.” Finally, a kiss. “It’s almost as if you were celebrating something.”

San grinned against Wooyoung’s mouth.

“Actually…”

San’s nose trailed Wooyoung’s cheek until his teeth could torture his earlobe.

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

Wooyoung craned his head until he could face San again, the silly smile growing wider; brighter. He hadn’t forgotten that they couldn’t celebrate their first anniversary properly, so this year it felt extra special.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

*

“Are you nervous?” Wooyoung asked as he soaked his maki in soy sauce. 

The restaurant was inspired by Alice In Wonderland so the colours of the walls were saturated and hypnotic, the mirrors giving a distorted reflection of the entire place, the plates just as eccentric as the rest. 

They’d found it by accident one night while scrolling through San’s “For You” page on TikTok. The restaurant was about to open for the first time back then and the video they watched was some kind of introduction to it.

Needless to say, the moment they saw the decor of the Japanese restaurant, they had been sold.

“Not really,” San confessed. “I’ll be pissing my pants the morning of the match but I’m chilling so far. I think that unless we get to the finals again, I used all my nerves the day we played against MST.”

Wooyoung smiled.

That day had certainly been quite a lot .

Soon, it would be a year since he started therapy and became friends with the cheerleaders that had intercepted both Yeosang and him at MST campus. When Wooyoung looked back in time, he was left speechless by the year he’d had.

It had all started with talking to Yuna, who now was not only far away from Hyeon but also dating a DJV player. At first, she had been reluctant, not wanting to believe what she was hearing, but eventually she warmed up to Wooyoung, and at the beginning of this year she had tried to cut ties with Hyeon. 

And that was when the nightmare repeated itself with one difference —Yuna had been prepared for it. 

It had been tough and Hyeon had proved to be a walking piece of shit yet again. He had confirmed that he had been “cheating” on Yuna for a few weeks. He even had the audacity of blaming the cheerleader for it, arguing that Yuna hadn’t been spending as much time with him as she used to, so he had been forced to find entertainment elsewhere.

Yeji, Ryujin and Yeosang got to work after that confession, finding not only the Instagram of his new victim but also the name of a few other students who’d had the misfortune of becoming Hyeon’s toy in the last couple of years —Chanhee, Yunjin and Sana.

Somehow, even though it had sucked to find other people dealing with the same wounds, feeling understood in that way had helped Wooyoung to see things from a different perspective, because the moment he had discovered that he couldn’t blame any of those people for what Hyeon did, he truly started feeling less and less guilty. 

Obviously, his therapy sessions helped. Wooyoung had never felt as stable as he did nowadays. However, that small group was like the cherry on top. 

Wooyoung was certain that he wouldn’t have made the decision to speak up about his relationship with Hyeon if it hadn’t been for that group. In fact, it had been a collective decision. 

And it had been deadly.

Jung Wheein, his therapist, had talked in detail about it with him. And San, Yeosang and Hongjoong had spent long nights with Wooyoung, encouraging him and promising that they would still be there with him, no matter how scary and horrible everything might get. 

Wooyoung had made his TikTok account public just for that and he had even made a new Instagram account, even though the one who actually posted his videos was Yeosang because Wooyoung’s hands hadn’t stopped trembling that week.

So, yeah, they had filmed individual videos talking about their experience and exposing what Hyeon had done. They had posted them at different times and in just a few days, they had thousands of views on all of them. 

It had been, probably, one of the roughest months of his life, filled with messages from strangers accusing him of being just a bitter ex-boyfriend or saying that he was ruining the career of a brilliant young man. 

He had also got messages from people he hadn’t seen since high school and others from San’s teammates and other DJV students.

Nevertheless, the heart-stopping messages had arrived when the college sports committee had contacted all of them to discuss the situation. 

There had been too many conversations. Too many questions. Too many cold stares. Too many long nights. Too many days wondering if Hyeon would come to DJV to try to talk to him. 

Funnily enough, it had been the two youngest members of said committee who had believed all of them right away and convinced the rest of their colleagues to make the right decision. Wooyoung and San had found out, then, that the famous best friend with whom Jungkook had been living since college was a reputable contemporary dancer and teacher who still had time to be part of the committee —Park Jimin; and that one of the most popular cheerleader captains that their generation’d had lately, Ahn Hyejin, hadn’t disappeared from Earth, just used her voice to protect younger people.

Lee Hyeon was expelled from MST during summer break and the committee banned him from joining any college team, regardless of the sport or the position he held. 

At first, Wooyoung had been afraid of Hyeon pulling some kind of revenge on any of them but after making a fuss on social media and looking like a pathetic loser —Jongho’s words—, he had left the city and moved to the south. 

The match DJV had against MST before summer break had been one of the last matches where Hyeon was still a coach. Wooyoung had decided to stay home and watch the livestream, and San had to restrain himself to not snap Hyeon’s neck every time the former coach was near him.

“We were so drunk that night,” Wooyoung giggled.

DJV had won with three goals. Two of them scored by a furious San who had kissed his knuckles even more intensely than usual, knowing that Wooyoung hadn’t been able to be there.

“Worst hangover of my life,” San whined, making Wooyoung giggle louder. 

“You took a painkiller and went to the gym that evening.”

“And I almost cried trying to finish my sets.”

Wooyoung’s laugh turned into a full shriek that had a couple of people around them looking in their direction and Wooyoung kept laughing, quieter this time, when the stares made San blush and gulped down the rest of his glass of water.

“They are going to kick us out of the restaurant if you keep making me laugh like this,” Wooyoung commented, filling San’s glass and taking another maki. 

San shrugged, his cheeks still covered in a soft reddish tone. 

“Do you think that will stop me from making you laugh?” 

Wooyoung stretched his arm until he could take San’s hand over the table, his fingertip brushing the new ring that adorned the captain’s index finger.

“Am I sensing a case of ‘too whipped to care’?” Wooyoung joked.

“Will I ever recover, doctor?”

Wooyoung pretended to consider it, tapping his chin with his other hand and letting out a drawn-out sigh. 

His voice was solemn when he whispered, “I’m afraid this might be chronic, Choi San.”

***

SAN’S POV

Seeing Wooyoung bloom had been beyond mesmerising. 

If San had been smitten by the time his boyfriend had started therapy and consecutively begun working on himself, now he was a lost cause whose heart fluttered every time Wooyoung showed another sign of how far he had come. 

The loud shrieks he let out in public without holding himself back were one of San’s personal favourites. He would never get tired of that sound.

“Stop with the suspicious look,” San muttered as they entered his flat.

Wooyoung kept staring at him with narrowed eyes, his gaze inspecting every corner of the living room after they had left their jackets and shoes at the entrance. 

“You’ve been asking suspicious questions, too,” Wooyoung argued.

“That’s not true.”

It was true.

“You are pouting like you do whenever I catch on to your intentions.”

San ignored the accusation, mostly because there wasn’t a way to defend himself, and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of white wine and two glasses. 

During that last year together, Wooyoung hadn’t been the only one who had changed notoriously. His journey hadn’t been as successful as his boyfriend’s but now San didn’t wake up every morning feeling like he wasn’t enough and, thankfully, he didn’t have weekly meltdowns over his own studies. 

He couldn’t say he was his best supporter or his biggest fan, but he was learning how to be slightly gentler with himself. 

“I’ll go first,” San said after they had both brought their anniversary gifts to the living room —Wooyoung had been hiding his own in Jongho’s room for a few days so he didn’t have to carry them to the restaurant. 

Wooyoung took the wrapped box, exuding excitement in the most adorable way San had ever seen, with wide, bright eyes and a smile that hadn’t left his mouth since they were at the restaurant.

How could he get prettier every time they meet?

“Oh my god,” Wooyoung hugged the box against his chest when he saw what was inside. “When…?”

“You said the battery of your headphones barely lasted an hour and I know how much you love those noise cancelling ones.”

Wooyoung hugged the box tighter. “But they are expensive.”

San made a dismissive gesture with his hand. They weren’t going to discuss how much money they had both spent. Wooyoung focused better with noise cancelling headphones, so San hadn’t hesitated before getting him some new ones.

“This one is a bit silly but…” San warned as he handed Wooyoung the second and last gift.

It wasn’t rigid like the first one, revealing that it had to be a piece of clothing or, perhaps, a blanket. San contained his smile whilst Wooyoung palmed the present to try to guess what was hidden underneath the wrapping paper. 

His fingers tore the paper and Wooyoung gasped.

“For me?”

“For you.”

“But what about the sentimental value?”

Wooyoung pulled the team hoodie out of the wrapping paper and removed his own sweater to put it on, his palms smothering the material while his lips curled into a sweet pout. 

“For real, for real?”

It was the first team hoodie San got after he joined DJV. It was almost worn-out but after Wooyoung had found it in San’s wardrobe some months prior, it had become one of his favourite clothing items to wear when he was either at San’s place or his own.

San secretly wondered if his boyfriend put it on just to rail him, but he would be the only one to blame from now on since he had just gifted it to him.

“I don’t use it anymore and it won’t go away.” San grabbed Wooyoung’s legs and pulled him in. “I love to see you in it.”

He barely got the last words out because Wooyoung’s lips were on his before he could say the last syllables. He tasted sweet like the dessert they had shared earlier and San had to remind himself that they were still exchanging gifts so as to not get carried away.

Though that didn’t stop him from kissing Wooyoung’s exposed shoulder once before pulling back.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this since you picked me up,” Wooyoung said in a sultry voice, not letting San get too far so he could nip at his jaw. “I hope you post a thousand pics with this outfit so everyone can see how hot you were to celebrate our anniversary.”

That was another sign of Wooyoung’s recovery —his nonchalant comments about San posting anything related to their relationship. 

Perhaps, this had been one of the hardest parts of their journey to make their relationship public. Wooyoung had perfectly handled hanging out together in public spaces, although he had needed several months to be completely fine with it. He had grown confident enough in the last few months to even be more affectionate when they weren’t at their flats and he had never minded that San talked about them at any given opportunity.

However, social media was another whole story.

After a few months getting used to their public relationship, Wooyoung had given San permission to post Instagram Stories here and there; something temporary, he had said. Then, in mid-spring, when Wooyoung had decided to speak up about Hyeon, the medical student had ended up making a secret private Instagram account to be able to interact with his friends. 

And like a scared animal, he had allowed San to post about him. But not much. 

Now, almost half a year later, Wooyoung still wasn’t a fan of seeing his face too much on San’s feed, and he avoided appearing on San’s TikTok like the plague, but he didn’t get anxious if suddenly the football captain posted a picture of them together for no reason at all; simply because he liked how they looked. 

Although what made San beam was how much Wooyoung encouraged him to brag about how happy they were without showing him on social media —San posting pictures of the flowers he had got Wooyoung for passing his exams? Wooyoung loved it; San posting about the homemade dinner Wooyoung prepared for him because he was exhausted? Wooyoung loved it even more. 

Thankfully, most of San’s followers had respected his privacy and supported his relationship with Wooyoung, which had helped the latter to feel more relaxed about it.

“I want to post one of the pictures we took in the toilets of the restaurant,” San confessed, not resisting the impulse of slipping his hands under Wooyoung’s denim shirt to touch his warm back. “The decor was so pretty.”

Wooyoung dropped his legs on San’s lap so he could get closer to him, linking his arms again around San’s shoulders.

“I wrote a cute post but didn’t want you to read it before our date so I’ll post it tomorrow after I leave,” Wooyoung admitted. 

San scrunched up his nose.

“You said you weren’t going to make me cry.”

Wooyoung raised one finger, pressing it against the spot where San’s dimple was.

“I said I wasn’t going to make you cry on our anniversary. Technically, tomorrow is no longer our day.”

“Don’t whine if I reply with a long, embarrassing message where I tell you again how happy I am to have you.”

Their lips touched and Wooyoung smiled, softly.

“I’ve never whined.” Kiss. “I save all your cute messages and read them when my anxiety decides to be a bitch.” Another kiss. “But we can talk about it later. Less feeling me up and more opening my presents.”

San groaned, his palms flat against Wooyoung’s back, not moving one inch.

“Big baby,” Wooyoung chuckled, kissing him again before leaving an envelope on his own legs, that were still over San’s lap. 

With a sigh, San removed his hands from under Wooyoung’s clothes and grabbed the envelope.

In some way, this second year by Wooyoung’s side had not only shown him that he had spent most of their first year putting some of his feelings aside but also that the lack of knowledge had had him constantly worried about what might have been in Wooyoung’s mind. 

The result had been a version of himself that was so focused on building a safe space for Wooyoung that he had forgotten how goofy, whiny and needy he could be at times. Even if he had been mostly transparent to his boyfriend during all that time.

San opened the envelope and knitted his eyebrows as he tried to focus on the lines written on the card that was inside. It was a night for two people at a hotel in the mountains, booked in January, when their exams would be over so neither of them would need to worry about them.

A shy smile bloomed on his lips whilst his eyes flew to Wooyoung’s face, who was staring at him in silence, almost holding his breath.

“Is this the hotel Felix told you about?”

Wooyoung nodded. “I’ve wanted to take you somewhere for a weekend for so long, but between the championship, my crazy courses this year, all your assignments and the anxiety I’ve had with Hyeon and the committee, it was as if I could never find the perfect moment.”

“This weekend looks pretty perfect to me,” San noted, pointing at the card, where Wooyoung had written all the information. “Right before starting the new year.”

San remembered something, then.

“You were whining about the headphones when this was one of your presents?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “Not the same. My mum sent me too much money when I told her we were going to celebrate our anniversary.”

Not wanting to start any push and pull neither of them were going to win, San decided to smile and leave the envelope on the coffee table in front of the couch. Wooyoung’s parents and the relationship Wooyoung had with them was another topic he had discussed in therapy to the point of exhaustion. 

Luckily, both his parents had been enthusiastic about Wooyoung dating him. They had asked to meet San during summer break and San had been pleased to confirm that Yeosang’s description of them couldn’t have been more accurate —they tried , but they were far from behaving like parents should. They doted on Wooyoung so much that was almost illogical, considering how little they actually knew him, and they seemed to genuinely wish that their son was happy , even though they had never actively done anything to make Wooyoung feel like that. 

In comparison to his own family, full of loud people that loved just as loudly, San had felt that Wooyoung’s parents were artificial; detached from their own feelings and only in touch with what they thought they should feel.

However, he didn’t hate them. They just existed.

“Speaking of, my parents asked if you were visiting during winter break,” San said, not sharing with Wooyoung that his parents had almost threatened him because they hadn’t seen Wooyoung since July, when he went there for San’s birthday.

Wooyoung tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, like every time he didn’t want to let San see how much a simple comment had affected him. As if San couldn’t see right through his little tricks after such a long time.

San never stopped him, though.

“Am I?”

He laced their hands together, kissing Wooyoung’s fingers.

“I don’t know, angel. Do you want to? I can always tell them you already have plans.”

“No. No, no,” Wooyoung shook his head, their eyes locking whilst the medical student caressed San’s hand. “It’s… What do you want?”

“Whatever you decide will be good to me,” San assured. “I love having you around, you know it.”

Wooyoung tortured his lower lip with his teeth for a second and San waited patiently until he gathered his thoughts. He could already tell that Wooyoung was willing to accept but, as always, firstly he had to ignore all those tiny voices that told him that he wasn’t welcome; or that San didn’t want him around that much; or that it was mere courtesy.

“I’m supposed to spend some days with Yeo’s family and my parents apparently took some days off so we can all be together but…” Wooyoung bit his lip again. “You sure I won’t be a bother?”

There it was .

“You’ve met my mum, she can’t lie to save her life. If she didn’t want you at home, neither my dad nor her would have said anything.”

With a thin voice, Wooyoung murmured, “I know, but they are always so kind to me that I don’t know. I wanted to make sure. Just because I’m your boyfriend it doesn’t mean I gotta be invited to everything. Like… I would get it if they only want to be with family.”

San’s eyebrow arched over his eye, not believing what Wooyoung had just said.

At times, San wasn’t sappy on purpose. Life forced him.

“You are part of the family, Wooyoung.”

A nervous giggle resonated in the living room whilst Wooyoung’s cheeks covered in a soft, red tone, making San want nothing more than to lean in and kiss his pretty face until he was blushing all over.

“You can’t just say that,” Wooyoung mumbled. 

“I can repeat it. It won’t make it a lie.”

Wooyoung inhaled any distance between them to slide their lips in a sweet kiss.

“You’ll never get tired of leaving me speechless by accident, will you?”

Their lips were still brushing when San’s hands pulled Wooyoung onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around his waist. They had always understood each other better when they were so close it seemed like they were part of the same body. 

It was almost embarrassing how much San could miss having Wooyoung near when they spent a few days apart, no matter the amount of messages they sent each other.

“Maybe it’s time to get used to it.”

Wooyoung’s fingers trailed San’s features before framing his face to kiss him again, longer this time, pouring confessions Wooyoung wasn’t prepared to voice out loud into the contact. 

San could still be an insecure mess and, sadly, he still went to bed some nights wondering if Wooyoung would be ashamed of him one day but he could see all the effort Wooyoung was putting into their relationship.

He had heard Wooyoung every time he had confessed in a shy voice that he wanted to be with San until he couldn’t remember a time where San wasn’t in his life.

It wasn’t necessary for Wooyoung to say that San was like family to him too for the captain to guess it.

“I love you,” Wooyoung whispered against his mouth, in the same voice someone would use to confide a secret. “I wish I had a better thing to say.”

“What do you mean?”

Wooyoung drew away enough for their eyes to meet without needing to squint, his thumbs drawing circles over San’s cheeks. 

“Y’know, it’s like… more than that. It’s like ‘I love you’ is so layered to me,” Wooyoung explained, his gaze getting lost somewhere inside San’s eyes while San felt himself beam because he felt privileged every time Wooyoung shared his complex reasoning with him.

Wooyoung’s index finger traced San’s bottom lip.

“It’s like it’s not enough because you are so many things to me. I love you like a devoted poet who can’t find more words to describe their muse. I see you in songs and when my eyes are closed. I think…”

San playfully bit the finger over his lip in his own particular way of indicating that he was still listening.

“I love how I can still breathe when you are not with me and how easy it gets when we are like this.”

The sparkle in Wooyoung’s eyes made San’s heart flutter.

“I’ve always told Yeosang that you are like peace to me and maybe that’s the best definition,” Wooyoung murmured, trapped in his own speech, admiring San’s face as if it was the first time he could see it from up close. 

He looked so beautiful; baring his heart for him.

Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s hard to explain how in love I am and how lucky I feel.”

“I’d say you’ve done a good job at explaining it but knowing how perfectionist you are, I’ll just say that you have many years ahead to tell me.”

His boyfriend giggled, nuzzling against his cheek.

San could still feel Wooyoung’s smile against his skin when the latter whispered, “I do.”

*

“A cat?” San repeated, his eyes glued to the album he had in his hands. 

Wooyoung had taken the time to dig into their gallery of pictures to craft an album for him with some memorable moments. He had added pictures of the first time he went to his flat while San’s friends were there, the first time they took a walk together, the first time they took a real picture together outside and also the first time they took one at one of their places, the first time Wooyoung had visited San’s family…

There were also blank pages. Wooyoung had explained that they were waiting for their time. That he had already thought about them but he wasn’t going to share any details with him.

Then, towards the end, there were a few pictures of a small, calico cat. 

At first, San had thought that it was a reference to the cat videos they watched on TikTok but the caption under all those pictures erased any doubt. 

Future queen of the house.

“Yeosang’s grandmother found a litter of kittens a few weeks ago. Four siblings and their mum,” Wooyoung explained. “His parents and grandma had been taking care of them until they were ready to go to their forever homes.”

San looked at the pictures again, feeling an unknown emotion tugging at his heart.

“Jongho told me that your landlord has no problems with pets and we’ve talked so many times about having a cat that when Yeo’s grandma asked me if I wanted one, I couldn’t say no.”

“That’s why you and Yeosang have been going to your hometown so much lately?”

“Yeah,” he said, also looking at the kitten’s pictures. “We wanted to help with the kittens and I also wanted to see them by myself before picking one for you. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are considering getting one too so Mars is not alone.”

San’s fingers traced the pictures. He had missed having a cat around since he left his hometown to go to college and although he would have loved to adopt one a long time ago, he hadn’t found the perfect moment for it. 

There was always an excuse not to take the step.

That was, partly, the reason why he loved to see cat content on TikTok so much.

He hadn’t realised he was dead silent until Wooyoung’s hand found his own.

“If you’d prefer to see the cat first, we can go to my hometown after finals. I promised I would go for my birthday so you can tag along if you want? I don’t want it to look like I’m forcing you to…”

“Wooyoung,” San cut him off.

“For real. I’m sorry if…”

“Angel, look at me.”

Wooyoung might have changed a lot since they had met but a part of his brain would always be a professional in overthinking the simplest things. San wished he could do more to help but, at least, Wooyoung believed him right away every time San reassured him.

Their eyes met, San intertwined their fingers.

“You are not forcing me. If anything, you have made one of my dreams come true.” San’s thumb slid across the back of Wooyoung’s hand. “I hadn’t said anything because I’m… y’know.”

“Don’t say slow.”

“Not even if I’m not meaning it in a negative way?”

Wooyoung seemed to consider it.

“Was it really in a positive way?” 

The medical student brought their laced hands to his chest. He had got off San’s lap to give San space to appreciate the album properly but judging by the way they were getting closer again, San bet it would take Wooyoung less than five minutes to climb his thighs again.

“Thank you,” San ended up saying, pressing their lips together. “I wanna meet her.”

“I have videos.”

San’s eyebrows shot up. “Show me!”

And as expected, Wooyoung took his phone from the coffee table, straddled San’s lap and opened a folder he had in his gallery that was solely for the kittens. He clicked on a video and San cooed when the high-pitched sounds filled the living room.

“Is that her?”

“Yeah. She loves to be carried around and to be petted. And she’s so small in comparison to her siblings.”

“I didn’t deserve a chunky cat?”

Wooyoung graciously shook his head. “It’s cuter to picture you, with your broad shoulders and your big body, holding a tiny cat.” He paused for a brief second. “Well. She would fit in your small hands.”

San groaned, resting his head against Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“They are not that small.”

“They match your waist,” Wooyoung pointed out.

He groaned again. “Can we watch more videos?”

San adored living with Jongho, but he couldn’t wait for the day where Wooyoung was the one living with him and his new cat.

Their cat.

***

His ears rang, the screams around him like some kind of echo that San couldn’t understand, even though they came from his teammates, who were running towards him to celebrate that they had won the finals thanks to the goal he had scored throughout the second half.

The euphoria was blinding, filling his veins like a drug.

San found himself shouting, hugging every person he could reach, smiling, and also crying once he was faced with the trophy for winning the championship. It wasn’t big , but it was theirs.

They earned it with hours and hours of hard training. After tough days and even tougher matches.

While his fingers were closed around the trophy, he couldn’t help but remember his past self; the younger San who had promised himself that his new goal would be making his team a safe place for everyone, especially queer men.

His rigid stance on it had made his college team one of the safest teams to be in and, in comparison to other teams, the amount of players who were open about their sexual and romantic orientation was astonishing. They didn’t necessarily talk about it loudly on a daily basis but if they felt comfortable to open up about it, they had told the rest of the team.

Because they knew the rest would always have their back.

“San,” Jungkook called him after he had taken a shower, his body wrapped in a towel while he searched for his fresh clothes. “Do you mind replying to a few more questions? I already did but they, obviously, want to talk to the captain too.”

“Sure, give me five minutes.”

They had won .

His mind was still spinning, not believing that the trophy was theirs or that all those journalists wanted to talk to them because of that. He had given a few interviews in the past but it was as if that day was the first one.

San was so caught in the whole rush of emotions that he talked faster than usual as he replied to the same few questions he had already replied to for other interviews. Jungkook was smiling at him as he did so, so San supposed it had to mean that his answers sounded normal. 

There wasn’t much room to say anything new with those basic questions, after all.

Until…

“Would you like to say a few words for younger players?”

San cracked a smile.

That was new.

He licked his lips, knowing that he hadn’t had much time to gather his thoughts and that he had to deliver a short speech that was, somewhat, decent in less than three seconds.

“I would like to tell them that it’s gonna suck a lot sometimes, so the best advice I can give is to make your team your home. Protect your teammates like you would protect your family. Take care of them. Look after them. And most importantly, respect them like you would want to be respected too.”

“Thank you for such meaningful words, San. We hope you and your team can keep inspiring younger generations.”

San wasn’t sure if he was supposed to read too much into it, but it certainly looked as if the journalist was truly talking about the hardships that his own team had gone through to become such a safe space.

“Congrats again,” Jungkook said once the woman had walked away from them, his arm wrapping around San’s shoulders to give him a hug. “The guys told me you are going to have dinner all together.”

“Yeah. We hoped you would come.”

To be in his late twenties, Jungkook had always behaved as if he was much older. He kept a professional distance between him and the players, even though he treated them all as if they were his children. 

San would say that he was a strange fraternal figure to him, a mix between an older, wise brother and a father.

Jungkook seemed to consider it for a second, murmuring only for San to hear.

“I gotta ask Jimin.”

San looked up at Jungkook in silence. During all those frenetic weeks where Wooyoungʼd had multiple conversations with the committee, including Jimin, Jungkook had found him one day completely overwhelmed in the locker room. He had been by himself because it was really early for practice.

Jungkook had taken a seat next to him and San had broken down the moment the coach had apologised for everything that had happened with Wooyoung and Hyeon. San had confessed to Jungkook, then, that he had been scared for Wooyoung and the rest of the people who had called Hyeon out; that he hadn’t been as positive as he had pretended to be and that he was so relieved now that Hyeon was away that he was unable to contain himself every time he was alone, because all the emotions he had been repressing tended to overflow.

It was then that Jungkook had told him about Jimin; he hadn’t explicitly said that they were dating, San had learnt that Jungkook preferred not to address it out loud, but he had shared with him a difficult patch they both had to go through when Jimin had joined the committee. 

“I don’t think the rest will mind if he joins us,” San assured.

Jungkook smiled. “I know. But apparently he had prepared a special dinner because he knew we were going to win, so I’ll see what we do.” 

The coach tied his long, black hair, sending a glance in the direction of the locker room before looking at San again.

“Will you do something special with Wooyoung?”

“Maybe? We haven’t talked about it yet.”

Jungkook grinned, muttering something about young love that made San cackle before he reminded the couch that he was only twenty-nine.

*

WOOYOUNG’S POV

Wooyoung was vibrating inside. 

He had woken up with the certainty that DJV was going to win the championship and he had spent the entire match so calm that Yeosang hadn’t stopped asking him if he could suddenly see the future and that was why he was so sure that things would turn out in their favour.

He and San had smiled at each other right before the captain had taken the trophy with his team, but it hadn’t been enough. Wooyoung needed San there , close enough so he could touch him, kiss him and congratulate him for the hard work.

“I can hear your excitement,” Hongjoong, who had for once gone to the match too, murmured.

“Shut up,” he muttered, slapping his friend’s arm. 

His comment, however, didn’t go any further because his gaze finally found the person he was looking for —San had just left the venue and was walking in their direction with other teammates, laughing between them and likely still going through the last events.

Wooyoung had started running in his direction in a similar way to how he’d run towards him a year ago before he could even think about it, though the reason this time was radically different. 

And now they weren’t any kind of secret.

San’s lips curled into that beam that was only aimed at him and Wooyoung jumped into his arms whilst he laughed, his legs circling the captain’s waist and his arms flying around his neck.

Wooyoung’s hands framed San’s face and he smashed their lips together.

He still wasn’t a fan of being the centre of attention but it wasn’t as if Wooyoung was actively thinking of anything else besides San. Everybody knew they were dating and sometimes he just needed to love San loudly, for the world to hear. 

It felt right to love him like this.

Less scary than it used to. 

“You made it.” 

His rampant happiness made his voice sound sweeter. 

San’s eyes turned into crescents when his smile stretched out of the limits of his face.

“We did.”

San leaned in and their lips met again in a longer kiss, one of his hands firmly grabbing Wooyoung’s thigh while the other curled around Wooyoung’s nape.

“Congratulations, captain,” Wooyoung whispered between kisses.

“You knew it,” San noted, kissing him again. 

Wooyoung giggled, pulling back to look at San, so he saw how serious he was. 

“I’m so proud of you. ” His thumbs traced circles across San’s cheeks. “You and your team have trained so much to get here. And you have also passed all the exams you’ve taken so far, even though you’ve barely had time for anything lately.”

San’s face flushed under his praises and Wooyoung cooed.

God. Wooyoung was so in love with him.

“Don’t tell anyone but today I’m especially enjoying the fact that I can call you mine.”

San pouted and Wooyoung pressed a kiss over his soon-to-be-swollen lips.

“I never know what to reply when you say those things.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’ll keep loving you exactly the same. And I’ll feel just as proud.”

As always, San tucked a blonde strand behind Wooyoung’s ear. 

Secretly, Wooyoung hoped he would never stop doing it.

“I love you, princess,” San whispered over Wooyoung’s mouth.

“Could you please stop with the public sex tape and help us pick a bar to celebrate at until dinner?” A voice called. Yeosang’s voice.

Wooyoung turned his head to find their friend group slightly closer to them but still keeping some distance, as if that could give them any privacy considering the amount of people that were around the venue after the match.

“Did you have to interrupt us?” Wooyoung groaned.

“Always.” Yeosang smirked. “But for real, Beomgyu and Yeonjun will end up throwing hands at each other if we don’t make a decision soon,” he dramatised, motioning towards their friends, who were playfully bickering while trying to decide on a place.

“I go with whatever you’ve voted for,” Wooyoung said. 

“Me too,” San added.

Yeosang’s grin turned devilish as he tilted his head in the direction of Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

“Did you hear that? My option won. Sorry, Yeonjunie.”

“Bitch!”

San and Wooyoung laughed and looked at each other again, ignoring the way Yeonjun was now yelling at Yeosang, arguing that neither Wooyoung and San had voted properly because they just wanted to keep making out.

“I’m enjoying having my arms full with a pretty man more than I should,” San confessed in a low voice.

“Yeah?” 

“I would have bailed on all the interviews if I had known the surprise that was waiting for me outside.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. Skipping interviews is unforgivable,” Wooyoung deadpanned. 

San chuckled. “Idiot.”

Their lips were almost touching again when another voice yelled at them, making Wooyoung drop out of San’s arms but stay pressed against him regardless.

“Stop with the sex tape, we want to drink some beers!” It was Jongho.

“Ah, let them be,” Seonghwa chimed in. “I’ve seen you and Yeosang doing worse things.”

“I hate the day you and Wooyoung became friends,” Jongho whined, his tone dangerously similar to the one Yeosang used when he was being dramatic.

“Me too,” Hongjoong sighed, as dramatically as Jongho and Yeosang had been.

“Can I go back to kissing my boyfriend in peace?” San asked.

It was embarrassing how Wooyoung had to hold back to not squirm against San.

“Gross,” Yeosang replied.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and San looked back at him.

“Where were we?”

When their lips finally clashed again, Wooyoung realised that it had been a few months since the last time he had to block the world around him to not feel anxious about any kind of public display of affection.

He could still hear his friends in the background while he got even closer to San to keep kissing him. And what was even more important, he could also see how little everyone cared about what they did.

“I have another surprise for you,” Wooyoung whispered after they pulled back. “You’ll see it later.”

*

SAN’S POV

San had just hung up after calling his sister when he saw the Instagram notification.

Wooyoung had tagged him in a post.

Wooyoung. From his public account.

A carousel of different pictures related to his matches was what caught his attention first —a picture of him playing taken from Wooyoung’s seat, a picture of the new hoodie he had got that season, a picture of San asleep on Wooyoung’s bed while still wearing his uniform, a video of San with Mingi and Yunho at one of their after-match celebrations and a mirror picture of Wooyoung wearing San’s old hoodie while San was hugging him from behind.

His heart jolted when he saw the long caption below.

At least, he was outside by himself so nobody could see the look in his eyes as he read what Wooyoung had written.

“isn’t it silly to think about all the weeks i’ve spent pep-talking myself to post this? it doesn’t feel as scary with yeosang not-so-subtly looking over my shoulder to read what i’m typing. 

anyway. this isn’t about my nosey best friend.

this is about you and about how fucking amazing you are.

i feel like you would lose your mind if you could see yourself with my eyes, you know? i wish i was better with words so i could really describe what i see every time i look at you. but shit, i can tell you that it makes me feel so damn lucky to be dating you.

lucky to know we have each other. 

my new joke is that the reason you finally won this year and not the last one is because this time i can publicly tell everyone that the hottie captain of the djv team is my boyfriend. and i can also talk about all the hours you’ve put into your team or about how much you care about your teammates, always getting too involved even when you shouldn’t.

do you know how beautiful the world would be if everyone was a little bit more like you?

congratulations on your first (but not last) championship, love.

i’ll be here for all the next ones to make other sappy posts. it’s a promise.

i love you.”

He sniffed, realising quite late that the tears had pooled in his eyes, because he never imagined Wooyoung taking such a big step so soon. In fact, the few times San had thought about Wooyoung posting something on his public account it hadn’t been because it affected their relationship in any way, but because it affected Wooyoung to not be able to act completely freely yet.

San wasn’t expecting to find himself on that account.

The post didn’t allow any comments so San opened Wooyoung’s chat.

Messages:

san(shine) [19:03]: 

ugh

on ur public account?

princess [19:03]: 

i think i’ve caught the “too whipped to care” disease too

san(shine) [19:04]: 

sounds awful

“It’s not like I’m planning on trying to recover anyway,” Wooyoung said right into his ear, startling him and not leaving him any time to hide the tears.

Wooyoung cooed at the sight and San wrapped him in his arms, wondering if one day Wooyoung would grasp the fact that if San was like the sun, he had been the moon that had made his lonely nights brighter.

And that although he loved to see Wooyoung being able to be so loud about them, his favourite part of all those melodies they had always played on each other’s bodies was that those melodies were only for them.