tw: mentions of domestic abuse

* * *

There once was a time Wooyoung hadn't been so put off by touch. When he was a kid he'd never seemed to be starved of cheek kisses from his mother when he was done dressing up for school. Those kisses are for good luck, she'd always tell him, and Wooyoung of course found them overbearing at times because all the other boys his age weren't receiving smooches from their moms daily.

But Wooyoung never complained, because he loved his mother -- still does, and her taking the time to hug and kiss him meant she felt the same way too.

He used to like his dad, too, once upon a time when the man would arrive home from work and playfully squeeze his shoulder and ask about his day at school. He'd sometimes even carry Wooyoung on his back, as Wooyoung back then liked to feel like he could fly. Like Superman.

And Wooyoung had been so used to it, so used to feeling happy and content with his life with both his parents, that he'd never known it wouldn't last forever till the moment it all came crashing down.

The day his dad lost his job was the day Wooyoung mourned the loss of his father, because the man that remained was nothing but a mere imposter who just so happened to bear the same face.

And then, gone were the shoulder pats, the hugs, the encouraging smiles. Gone were the gentle words and care, as they'd been replaced by heavy hands, shattered liquor bottles and heated, violent arguments.

Wooyoung can almost feel the man's fingers clamped around his neck when something pats his leg right then. It's Mingi, his touch brief as he knows Wooyoung doesn't like when they linger.

Gaining Wooyoung's attention, he juts his chin at the phone laid beside him, a message notification igniting the screen.

san from class.

Still a little shaken from the memory, Wooyoung's fingers shake as he opens the message, far too careless.

At Mingi's gasp, Wooyoung quickly jolts upright, before shoving himself to the corner of Yunho's bed with his phone in hand.

"Why is there a nude on your phone?" Mingi whispers, eyes wide as saucers.

"It's not a nude," Wooyoung hurries to defend himself, casting a quick glance at Yunho's work table. The guy's finishing up his sex-ed project with his partner, headphones intact fortunately. "It's a painting, from San."

Mingi's eyes grow even bigger, his physics workbook forgotten on his lap. "San? What -- why is he sending you nude paintings for Christ's sake?"

Wooyoung just despises the way he exposes too much at times. "Um, no reason."

"You can't expect me to believe San just sent you a painting with a guy's ass cheeks out for no reason," Mingi argues, and fuck, Wooyoung mentally berates himself for slipping up and being so damn careless.

"Woo," Mingi continues, his accusatory tone washed off, making way for something a lot like concern. "I...I know Yunho and I hadn't been the most supportive of your friendship with San, and I want to let you know how sorry I am for that. I just want you to be open with us again. With me."

He extends a pinky, something he used to do to show he was keen on keeping a matter private. "Promise I won't judge."

Wooyoung, after some contemplation, links their pinkies. He decides on omitting his and San's conversation on Monday, not sure San wants him talking about that.

"San knows about how I'm like, anxious about nudity, and he's trying to get me desensitized to it and stuff," he replies.

"Is it working?" Mingi questions, brows shooting up in brief surprise, but for once he looks like he's listening, not trying to find fault in San.

Wooyoung runs his fingers along the ridges of his phone, absent-minded. "Maybe. I think so."

"This is the weirdest form of flirting I've ever seen in a while," Mingi says, stroking his chin. "No offense."

Wooyoung hugs the spare pillow, hating how his heart-rate skyrockets. "He isn't flirting."

"He clearly likes you," Mingi tells him. "Why else would he go out of his way to do all this if he doesn't?"

Wooyoung picks at his bandaged left hand, the limb still a little sore to touch. Mingi has to move his fingers away to get him to stop. "He doesn't like me. He just thinks I'm nice and wants to help out."

"Uhh, pretty sure he likes you," Mingi presses.

"He told me to my face he isn't into me," Wooyoung responds. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to keep talking about it either. "We're just friends."

"Okay, okay, just friends. Got it." But Mingi's got this sympathetic look in his eyes that Wooyoung wants to erase. "So he hasn't done anything."

"...What do you mean?"

"Stuff like hand holding, kissing and the like," Mingi says, picking up a calculator. "Cause if he's doing all that while saying he isn't into you, then he most likely is just using you, Woo. You can't let that happen."

"He..." Wooyoung's throat is dry, "he hasn't -- "

His phone pings with a new text message, from San.

- san from class
you read my texts but havent responded

- san from class
are u ok?

Wooyoung feels Mingi staring holes in his face as he types a reply.

- wooyoung
im alright
but uhh, mingi saw the painting u sent

- wooyoung
i explained things so he isnt freaking out or anything

- san from class
oh

- wooyoung
oh??

- san from class
i was actually hoping u were alone

The tips of Wooyoung's ears redden.

- san from class
so i could come over in case i leave the hospital

- wooyoung
oh gosh
i'm sorry but i'm at yunho's place atm

- wooyoung
but if u want i can leave and wait for u

Wooyoung hopes that doesn't sound as desperate as it looks.

- san from class
no need, sunshine
i can handle myself

- wooyoung
stoopp reminding me of monday night

- san from class
but i liked it
i also like calling u sunshine too :p

"Why is Wooyoung smiling at his phone?" Yunho asks, still by his computer. Mingi just shushes him as Wooyoung dives further into the comfort of his friend's bed, a little too giddy at San's messages.

- wooyoung
shhh

- wooyoung
and um, are things with ur mom okay??
its thursday now, and u havent been in any classes

- san from class
there haven't been any improvements tbh

- wooyoung
i know ur tired of me saying that but im really really sorry san

- wooyoung
and though its easier said than done, pls take care of yourself.
remember to eat and drink enough water

- wooyoung
for me

- san from class
i'll try, but thanks

- wooyoung
will u be able to make it to school this week

- san from class
not sure, but i'll be there for detention lol

- wooyoung
i'll be there too
n we can be detention buddies
and i just realized smth

- san from class
what?

- wooyoung
the sex ed presentation's next week monday since halloween's coming up

- wooyoung
we'd have to talk about fuckin gonorrhea in front of the entire class

- san from class
dont worry
i'll be right there with u

Wooyoung remembers how San used to avoid Mr Jeong's class like the plague, mostly because of the negative connotations and what people said behind his back.

- san from class
and wooyoung?

- wooyoung
yeah?

- san from class
i know you've been cleaning my locker

- wooyoung
what??

- san from class
i came to school on tuesday but to meet the principal. heard some people talking about it

- san from class
i didnt mention it at first because i felt a little awkward
and as thankful as i am wooyoung, u shouldn't bother

- san from class
i can handle myself
been doing so all these years

Wooyoung chews his lip in thought. Before him, his friends are still looking his way every once in a while, but they don't disrupt him.

- wooyoung
it doesn't hurt to have someone to lean on, though

- wooyoung
we're friends, as you said

San takes a minute to reply, and Wooyoung spends it biting his thumbnail, emotions crashing over him like a tidal wave.

And finally, finally, San texts back.

- san from class
i know i said not to bother but

- san from class
fuck it
i want to see you

* * *

Wooyoung yelps for the second time in a row into San's leather-clad back, arms tightly wrung around his middle as the taller swerves into another roundabout, the motorbike's engine revving lowly down the asphalt road. Why did he agree to do this?

"Why did I agree to do this?" He repeats, the intense wind causing him to shout. "When you showed up and said you wanted something sweet, I thought we were gonna walk to go get it."

It's harder to hear over the bustling nightlife and honking vehicles, but Wooyoung's pretty sure he just heard San laugh.

He makes a move to pinch the guy, but squeals when San makes yet another turn. Even with a helmet on as well, Wooyoung fears for his life.

"Relax, sunshine." San reaches out for his hand, fingers folding into his. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe."

"I don't feel safe," Wooyoung comments, voice muffled on the taller's shoulder.

"Just close your eyes, and focus on the breeze. Focus on me."

Wooyoung obeys, and it certainly helps how warm and sturdy San feels in his arms. The taller smells so good too, his cologne comforting to his senses. He lets himself revel in San's presence, lets himself pretend the taller's thumping heartbeat isn't just because of the adrenaline.

The bike ride doesn't last long, but by the time they've stopped, Wooyoung's legs wobble on his seat. He won't be surprised if his hair's currently a bird's nest.

San removes his helmet for him, then helps him off the sleek bike, hand steady on the small of his back. "Easy there, sunshine."

Wooyoung frowns, smoothing down his wayward locks. "You won't let that go, will you?"

San grins, showcasing his splendid dimples. He pats the shorter's hair, making him feel very much like a kid. "Nope."

"Fuck you." There's no malice in Wooyoung's tone, however. He watches as San shoves his bike's keys into his pockets and remarks, "Where'd you get that motorcycle?"

For a moment, San's face grows guarded, but it's so fleeting Wooyoung worries he'd imagined it. "I...worked for it. It's like, the only thing I really own, apart from Byeol."

His reply makes Wooyoung all the more curious. Hands in his pockets, he takes in their mostly dark surroundings occasionally lit up by a blinking neon sign. "Where are we?"

"It's an alley," San explains, "but there's a small shop around here that sells really good donuts. Don't worry, I'll pay."

"A date, huh?" Wooyoung is joking (mostly). But, San takes it in stride, a beaming smile on his face.

"Sure, you can call it that." San flings an arm around his shoulder, and Wooyoung never wants it to drop. "After we get it we'll go to one of my favourite spots to eat."

"With your bike? Oh no," Wooyoung makes a show of gasping. San hits his butt as a warning, and he gasps again. "I think you're obsessed with my butt."

San chuckles into Wooyoung's hair, hand returning to his back again. "Maybe I am."

Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out. "Is that a confession?"

San opens the shop's door for him, shrugging. "You're an attractive human, Wooyoung."

His answer definitely takes Wooyoung aback, and he can't stop thinking about it even as San pays for the donuts and drinks too.

He never really says a thing until San drops them off near a bridge, the water's distant gushing like a serenade to his eardrums.

"This place is so high up," he breathes, "but it's nice."

San smiles at his approval, that look in his eyes again. It's the same look he gave when his mother made them dinner, the one basically radiating fondness. "It's why I like it. I can just come here and pretend I'm someplace else, someplace no one else can ever reach. The silence brings me peace."

Wooyoung mulls over San's words. "Then why'd you bring me here? I mean -- this sounds like a private space, somewhere for you to unwind and stuff."

San nibbles on his glazed donut, heading for the railing. "Cause I wanted to. I wanted to bring you here, to share this moment with you. You've been so supportive all this while, and...and this friendship I've grown with you means so much to me. I feel like I can tell you anything."

"Really?"

San watches from where he leans sideways on the railing. He's still smiling. "Yes."

"Yeah, well," Wooyoung stares at the stuff in his hands, the stuff San bought. The night air chills his lungs, goosebumps spreading across his arms, and with that comes the cruel realisation he's tried so hard to forget. "I feel like I hardly know you."

He can't see San's face, but he guesses the guy isn't so happy-go-lucky any longer. "...You can ask me anything, though."

Wooyoung inhales, willing himself to speak through the crushing weight on his chest. "How do you really feel about me? Like, you tell me we're just friends and you just wanna help me. And I...I get that, but then you look at me as if -- as if you're in love with me or something."

San's drawing nearer; Wooyoung can hear his footsteps. But he can't convince himself to look up.

"I don't look at you like that -- "

"Yes you do," Wooyoung answers, far too quickly for his liking. "You get this dreamy look on your face and start smiling and it's -- it's nauseating!"

He takes a step back and turns on his heels, speed-walking down the bridge so he could get out quicker. Maybe he'll be able to catch a bus home tonight, or maybe even call Yunho or Mingi to come help him. He didn't even tell his mother he'd be home later than usual.

"Wooyoung, wait." San rushes after him, but the aforementioned male just moves faster, about just run off when his wrist is grabbed, trapping him to one spot.

Wooyoung lets San spin him around, but keeps his gaze on their shoes, stubborn. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Please, Wooyoung. Let me explain," San pleads with him, and Wooyoung finally allows himself to look up, his heart stupidly racing at the sight of the taller's annoyingly handsome face.

"I'm not -- " San sighs, jaw clenched as if he's grappling with something inside. "I'm not in love with you. But I do like you."

Wooyoung squeezes his fists, his poor donut packaging getting the brunt of it. "You -- you're so fucking confusing."

"I'm so sorry." San's face is genuine, hand holding Wooyoung's cheek. "I...I can't even fully explain what this is myself, but I know I've never felt this emotionally attracted to anyone else. This captivated. You get me. You get me so much, Wooyoung, and it's something I don't ever want to lose." San pauses, stares into his eyes. "You're someone I don't ever want to lose."

Wooyoung's never heard San talk so much in one sitting before; never heard him sound so heartfelt. San's brown eyes never leave his, so beautiful and true. And, while Wooyoung hasn't really found the answer he's looking for yet, he's positive San thinks much more highly of him than he'd previously thought.

And right then, the horrendously insanely impulsive part of him pushes him on his tiptoes to kiss San on his lips, the action taking the taller by surprise.

San's eyes widen at first, but then he's pulling Wooyoung closer by his waist, his soft lips tasting of sweetness.

Wooyoung's heartrate hightens in San's secure hold, the taller's hands on his body electrifyingly awesome. His emotions soar as San's head tilts, deepening the kiss as if his life depends on it. His fingers lightly tremble on the taller's collared jacket, the sensation invigorating though he's never kissed anyone else before to compare. All he knows is that he never wants this moment to end.

Wooyoung's breath gets caught in his throat as San draws his hips in, friction sizzling between the two of them like fireworks. The air suddenly turns hot -- too hot -- Wooyoung's pants tighter and more constricting. It gets even worse when San grinds a bit on him, his free hand snug below the fabric of his sweater.

A gasp breaks through the heated atmosphere, and Wooyoung instantly pulls away, heartbeat roaring against his ears.

There, at the entrance of the bridge lies a woman with thinning silver hair, gripping a yapping pomeranian on a leash. She looks at them with large, mortified eyes, as if she can't believe what she's seeing.

Wooyoung panics, because he's just been caught by a stranger kissing another guy -- a way older person at that. But San just holds him and, casting a simple smile the baffled woman's way, races them out of the bridge and towards his motorcycle. Wooyoung still can't breathe however, especially with how the lady watched them.

As if they're disgusting. Scum.

"Don't let her stares get to you," he suddenly hears San say behind him. The taller rests him on the bike and meets his eyes. "People like her will always be stuck in their ways. But the way they think doesn't reflect on you as a person."

Wooyoung nods, but his hands are shaking as he pushes on his helmet. He sees San lowly swear, angry with himself, and feels it's now his responsibility to assure San things are a-okay. "It's not your fault. We can just chill somewhere else."

He pats San's neck, and chortles when the taller freaking kisses his nose. Not too long ago, he would've rioted if someone had even came too close to his face. But now's different.

"Are you going to the hospital after this?" Wooyoung questions just as San takes his place in front of him on the bike.

"No." San shrugs as if it's nothing to fret about, but it's clear he's closely listening in to what Wooyoung wants to say.

Wooyoung checks his wristwatch. 7:48 PM. Guessing by the lack of phone calls from his mother, she must be on her way home from work. "Would you like to have dinner with my mom and I?"

* * *

a/n: thoughts?