* * *

San doesn't end up having dinner with Wooyoung and his mom, because before he can even start his bike, his phone rings in his pocket.

San slips it out, and all of a sudden his easygoing demeanor changes at something he sees on the screen. He doesn't say what it is though, only jumps off the motorcycle and walks up somewhere, hand gripping the phone like a vice. And so Wooyoung waits by himself, hoping it wasn't bad news, or something about San's mother.

And San doesn't spend long on the call either, returning with rough features and a hardened exterior.

He doesn't say anything, really, as he takes Wooyoung back home, and before Wooyoung can ask what's wrong, San bids him a good night and drives off.

* * *

- wooyoung
*poke*
its 12 am now sann
*poke*

- wooyoung
u havent texted back yet but just know mom and i had 🍕 and if u tell me what happened i'll get u one tmrw
i swear

- wooyoung
that is, if u come to school tmrw
but if you don't thats fine

- wooyoung
hope ur resting well wherever u are rn
night night

Of course, as Wooyoung sends these messages a part of him wishes San would finally reply, even when he knows it's mostly selfish to expect San to always answer him on time. Especially when he's fully aware San's going through a lot. But he can't help his desire, and he can't help wanting to truly know if San is okay.

San doesn't read the messages, nor answer, and although Wooyoung expects it, he can't lift the worry pressing down on his mind.

Unable to fall asleep, he looks through his fewish contacts for someone else, hugging his pillow as he types a new message.

- wooyoung
um goodnight
or good morning if youre awake right now

- wooyoung
there's this person that im seeing
or maybe not seeing 'cause we arent like, dating or anything

- wooyoung
but we've kissed and stuff and i know i like them
but i don't know a lot about their life if that makes sense

- wooyoung
but i do wanna know about their life, but i'm afraid they'd hate me or think of me as annoying if i pry

- wooyoung
but i want them to be alright :((

- mr jeong
Wooyoung I am your teacher.

- wooyoung
yeah but youre also yunho's dad
and youre an adult who has 'adult' knowledge and experience

- mr jeong
Wooyoung, you're really something else

- mr jeong
Luckily I'm awake correcting papers at this moment. Your marks are always alright, except when it comes to labeling the organs

- wooyoung
i'm sorry sir
but im asking for some "adult wisdom" right now

- mr jeong
Alright.
Who is this person?

- wooyoung
can't really reveal that mr jeong
but i just want them to be more open with me

- mr jeong
Forgive me if this might sound crude, Wooyoung, but I hope you both are using protection. STIs are no joke and it's better to be safe than sorry. Not only from STIs, but from accidental pregnancies. From 2015 to 2019 alone, there were 121 million unplanned pregnancies.

Wooyoung sort of regrets chatting up with Yunho's dad now. Okay -- he really regrets chatting him up now.

- wooyoung
but im not getting anyone pregnant!!

- mr jeong
Good choice.

- mr jeong
And anyway, though I'm an adult, there really isn't any so called 'Adult Wisdom'. You just learn to wade through and hope you're making the right choice.

- mr jeong
And there is nothing wrong with asking what's wrong. It only shows that you care, and I'm positive this mysterious person will appreciate your concern

- mr jeong
But if they don't, then I don't think they're the person you should be spending your time with

Wooyoung bites his lip as he types in a 'that makes sense', because it does. He doesn't feel as anxious anymore, because something about talking with a trusted adult who just so happens to be his friend's dad is surprisingly comforting. More comforting than he'd expected, that's for sure.

- mr jeong
But really
Condoms are your best friend, and for the ones that are sexually active, tests are very important. ☺

- mr jeong
Also remember to pee after sex. ☺

- wooyoung
goodnight sir

Wayyy too embarrassed from this whole conversation, Wooyoung hopes Yunho never hears of it. Ever. He switches off his phone and sighs, arms folded behind his head as he loses himself in his thoughts.

And said thoughts are very... well.

It's majorly Mr Jeong's fault though, as the man can't go a day without going on about 'safe sex!', and 'contraceptives!!!'. But Wooyoung also should've known better than to go to him for advice.

And, with the way their chats went, it was like Yunho's dad already assumed he was sleeping with someone the moment he mentioned San. But then again, teenagers are known all over as being practically infested with raging hormones.

Wooyoung sighs -- quite audibly, might he add, turning on his side. He tries to visualize San lying next to him, tries to imagine the taller hugging him close as they giggle and talk about whatever. He almost feels San's warm mouth on his chest, kisses trailing down his stomach and eventually... even lower. But before he can let his mind get consumed by his fantasy, his eyes fall on his crotch and immediately, the image disintegrates. Humiliation is now all he can feel.

His left fist aches on cue, but before Wooyoung can do something about it, San holding said hand fills his vision. And he doesn't give in.

* * *

Wooyoung goes for a green and black themed outfit early that Saturday morning, eager to please after an entire Friday of missing San in school. He just hopes it isn't overkill as he steps out of his bedroom, several minutes spent smoothing down the wild curls of his hair.

Only for Mingi to show up, ruffle it and rush for a plump pancake on the dining table, Yunho snapping a photo of his face right then. They're both wearing white shirts and jeans. It's a common occurrence though, so it isn't weird.

"Mom!" Wooyoung groans, looking for the woman so he can complain to her. He finds her in the kitchen, flipping over another set of steaming pancakes.

"Yes, dear?" She says, turning to look at him. "Oh, you look like an adorable vegetable."

"I was about to say good morning, but never mind," Wooyoung grumbles, snarling at his friends who are busy laughing with themselves. "Why are you two even here anyway?"

"We wanted to keep the vegetable company before he goes to detention," Yunho says, cutting himself a slice of pancake and dipping it in syrup.

"But don't worry," Mingi adds with a wink, "you're definitely one of the cuter veggies."

"Boys, enough with the teasing." Ms Jung sets a plate of food on the table.

"Thank you," Wooyoung exhales.

"There's nothing wrong with looking environmentally friendly."

Wooyoung gasps in mock-betrayal, falling into a chair as angrily as he can manage. "Wasn't aware this was Diss Wooyoung Day."

"I was just joking, Wooyoung," his mother says, bending to kiss his cheek. "I hope detention goes well for you, but I won't let it slide if you get yourself in trouble with the school again, young man."

"Luckily, Wooyoung has us to guide him on the right path," Mingi tells the woman, sickly sweet as he always is when he comes over. It's clear he's more comfortable with Wooyoung's mom than his own mother, and he beams when Ms Jung pats his hair.

Wooyoung thanks his mom for the food then grabs a fork, about to dig in.

"When will he be coming over again? San, I mean."

Wooyoung coughs, eyes wide open as the chatter surrounding the table fades. Mingi's eyes are full of immense curiosity as to how he'll respond, whilst Yunho looks away, gaze lowered.

"Um," Wooyoung clears his throat, taking a sip of water. "I'm...actually not sure, mom. But I'll ask him when I see him today."

"Alright. He said he had a recipe he wanted to tell me about," Ms Jung explains, the matter done and dealt with for her. But the previously lighthearted atmosphere has grown a little stifled.

When his mother leaves, Wooyoung takes his first bite of his pancake. "...Do you guys still not want me hanging out with San?"

It's Mingi that reacts first. "No, not at all. It's fine that you guys are getting along. Just don't spend too much time with him and forget about us, is all."

"How could I?" Wooyoung questions, though the taller's words have him nervous. "I've known you two longer than him."

"He has that effect on people," Yunho mumbles. "Getting them obsessed with him, I mean."

Mingi frowns at his statement, and slight irritation simmers in Wooyoung's gut, as he doesn't get it.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Listen," Yunho leans in, folding his arms on the table. "I used to know a guy a while ago. He said he'd been seeing San. At least, he thought he had, since they'd had dates and even slept together a few times. Only for San to tell him their relationship meant nothing a few months in, and he was just using him for a quick fuck."

Wooyoung stills, the pancake he'd swallowed down feeling like rocks. "I... The guy could be lying."

"Trust me. He's not," Yunho snaps, his tone stunning Wooyoung to silence.

"Let's not talk about this right now," Mingi begins, but no one's listening.

"San wouldn't do that -- "

"You don't know him," Yunho presses. "Stop defending him when you know nothing about him."

"That isn't true," Wooyoung answers. His food is all but forgotten now, his emotions on overdrive at seeing San getting shat on, once again. "I know a lot of things about him."

"Like what? Have you ever been to his house? Know his parents? Why he's always missing school and fucking someone new every night?"

"Yunho, that's enough," Mingi commands, but it does nothing to settle how enraged Wooyoung feels.

"If you don't believe me, ask him about it," Yunho adds, losing most of his bitterness. "See if I'm lying."

"Yunho," Mingi warns, but there's nothing that can be done now. The mood's considerably soured, and Wooyoung picks at his pancakes, frustration scorching his insides. "Fuck."

"I just want you to be careful," Yunho says, but that is enough to tip Wooyoung over the edge.

"And I am! I fucking am, Yunho. Stop acting as if I'm a child. San and I are friends, and I know he won't hurt me. Not like you've been consistently doing."

His voice draws his mother's attention, the woman entering the living room at that moment. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Wooyoung pushes out his seat and stands up. "Thanks for the food, mom. I have to get going now."

"Isn't Yunho dropping you off?"

"I am," Yunho replies before Wooyoung can protest, eyes apologetic when Ms Jung isn't looking.

Wooyoung wishes he had the power to turn back time so this entire conversation never would've happened.

* * *

You don't know him. Wooyoung's grip on the bag he brought along tightens, sneakers scuffing roughly across the gravelly grounds of his high school. Stop defending him when you know nothing about him.

'Rising Eagle High', the building's chipping sign board always reads, 'where students soar'.

But Wooyoung doesn't feel like he's soaring, however. He feels like he's crashing through the ground, down and down until he can't see the light of day again.

He stiffens when he spots Kim Jaehyuk's recognizable bad haircut by the stairs, the other male noticing him right then.

Instantly, he smirks, wide and sinister. Wooyoung wants to punch that shit-eating grin off his face.

Jaehyuk's about to say something, about to move, even someone steps next to Wooyoung, his shadow meshing with his.

Wooyoung turns, and San is there, his purely black outfit a stark difference to his. His multiple piercings glint in the light, the clear atmosphere bringing life to his features. It's unfair how great he looks, and Wooyoung thinks back to what Yunho said about him.

"Hey," San says, glaring Jaehyuk's way as if daring him to take a step forward.

"Hi." Wooyoung's throat is dry. He coughs to dispel the awkwardness, but it proves futile.

San, however, thinks he's nervous because of Jaehyuk. "Don't look his way. Fingers crossed we'll get to work together."

"Um, okay," Wooyoung answers, going after the other until they enter the halls, meeting the teacher supervising them for today.

Fortunately, San and him get assigned to clean out the art rooms, far away from wherever Jaehyuk's assigned. Unfortunately, he and San are now alone in here, forcing him to confront the thoughts swirling in his head once more.

San pushes his sleeves above his forearms, giving him a once-over. "You okay?"

Wooyoung stretches his gloves over his fingers, grabbing some disinfectant with more force than necessary. "I'm fine."

San just stares at him like he knows he's not telling the whole truth, but ultimately never pushes him. Instead, he grabs cleaning supplies too, working on emptying the shelves first.

Wooyoung's jaw clenches as he wipes down the few tables present, over and over again to get his frustrations out. He feels San's eyes following after his movement, but doesn't halt, even as he feels his glasses slip down his nose.

Then San's in front of him, hands pushing the glasses up his face. Wooyoung gulps, noting the minimal distance between them.

"Thanks."

"No problem." San smiles, nudging him a little. "I saw your texts this morning as I barely had my phone with me the other day. Thanks for caring."

Wooyoung sprays the table to the right of them, jumping when the drops splash on San. "Oh my god -- I'm so sorry."

San shakes his head, but takes a step back. "S'alright."

The liquid's soaked a bit through his already snug black sweater and Wooyoung notes the faint outline of his abs.

"You sure you're okay?"

Wooyoung absentmindedly plays with his cleaning gloves, San's presence overwhelming. "Mhm."

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Um, well," Wooyoung heads for the peach walls, "how's your mom?"

San hesitates before answering. "She's...she's well. She responded to me this morning."

"This morning?" Wooyoung can't help but voice out, head facing San's direction. The taller carries a box of paint tubes across the room, biceps bulging as he does. Wooyoung averts his stare. "It's just some minutes after eight. Did you get enough sleep?"

"I'm used to running on little sleep," San chuckles, grunting as he arranges another box. "Don't worry."

Again, Yunho's words echo in Wooyoung's mind, and he just wants it to stop.

He yanks aside the chair by the wall, only to see something scribbled in dark ink at the corner.

cocksucker choi

Wooyoung's breathing hollows out, back to the times he'd helped ridding San's locker of obscenities. Of course, lockers were an easy target because they were in a public space, but this? What the hell?

Wooyoung rushes to remove it before San sees a thing, scrubbing as hard as he can for San. For him, because seeing these words just buries in the fact that what Yunho said might have been true.

"...Wooyoung." He doesn't stop scrubbing. "Hey, Wooyoung, take it easy there. You wouldn't want the paint falling off."

In a second San's beside him, grip gentle as he takes the sponge from Wooyoung. The inked words have mostly been scraped off, but San's family name is as clear as day.

"I didn't want you seeing it," Wooyoung says, lungs finally free from the pressure he'd had them under.

"Don't worry about it." San's no longer smiling, though.

"I can't."

"No, you can," San refutes, huffing as he begins shoving the tables into a corner. "You can fucking ignore it, Wooyoung. You did before we became friends."

Wooyoung's throat constricts, guilt searing his skin like a branding iron. He feels ashamed. "I -- I'm sorry."

San starts to sweep, not answering.

Wooyoung walks over, preventing San from continuing. "I'm so sorry, I really am. I can't deny once thinking I was better off ignoring what you were going through, but I'm not gonna do that anymore. I promise."

San looks at him, really looks, face excruciatingly hard to read. Then, he sighs, shoulders loosening. "You...asked about what happened on Thursday in your texts. It was a call -- from my sperm donor."

Wooyoung doesn't fully know why he'd never expected that. "Oh?"

"Guess you can say we're not on good terms," San murmurs, teeth gritted as he swerves the broom about. "Calling him a piece of shit is just me being nice."

Wooyoung chuckles in disbelief; he can't help it.

San stops. "What?"

"Can't really get into it," Wooyoung starts, wriggling his fingers, "but my dad's pretty shitty too."

At this, San cracks a tiny smile. "God, this is so fucked up."

"Very." Wooyoung feels a little lighter now, considering how seamlessly San talked about the man called his father. He's revealing more about himself. "Hey, San?"

"Hm?"

He wants to ask about what Yunho said, but he knows this isn't the best time to mention it. So he locks it in the furthest crevice of his mind, steps in, and hugs San from the back.

San pauses, head tilted to face him. "Uh, why are you hugging me?"

"You made me more open to physical affection, so accept my frickin' snuggles, Choi."

San laughs. "Okay. But your gloves are wet."

Wooyoung just squeezes him tighter, to San's bemusement. "I know. It's just soap, so."

"Just soap?" San balks, breaking away only to smear Wooyoung's chest with bubbles in the next second. "Let's see if it's 'just soap' now."

Wooyoung takes a step back, nearly stumbling over a chair. He raises both his hands in defense. "Hey, let's not cause a scene here."

San plays with the sponge in his hands, his actions like a threat. "Nah. I don't think I agree with you on that."

Wooyoung dashes off, but his success doesn't last long as San yanks him into the nearest wall, arms tight around him to block him from escaping.

He squeals when San tickles his sides with his wet-ass hands, unable to put a stop to his laughter. "San! S-San, stop. Stop it."

"How does that feel, huh?" San says, still not letting go. "You naughty, naughty boy."

"I'm not naughty," Wooyoung exclaims, wrenching San's hands off his waist to run off --

Only to trip over nothing and land his ass on the floor.

He's never seen San laugh so hard before, the taller doubled over in stitches. Annoyed yet enamoured by how pretty San is when he's laughing, he grabs and tugs him in, their chests colliding.

San's still amused, eyes crinkled in delight at Wooyoung making a fool of himself, but the shorter isn't upset. San's arms cage them both, fingers threading through a lock of Wooyoung's hair to see him better.

"We made an even bigger mess." San grins, curling said lock.

Wooyoung can't hold it in anymore. He kisses San's cheek, his heart skipping a beat. "...Yeah."

Something falters in San's stare, but he continues to smile.

* * *

a/n: thoughts?