* * *

It's Friday now, and Wooyoung still hasn't been able to get through to San. The only positive thing's that school's out for the week-long Halloween break, but despite this Wooyoung can't dare let himself enjoy it when he knows San's about to lose his own mother.

Speaking of mothers, Wooyoung's mom had woken earlier today -- not for work but because she was going out with a few of her female colleagues. Which means she has ample time to stay in the house, and Wooyoung grabs the opportunity with both hands.

She's putting on a face mask inside her bedroom when Wooyoung pokes his head between the doorway, a big smile on his face. She jumps at seeing him. "Wooyoung? Why are you up so early?"

"Um," Wooyoung begins, a little guilty he's disrupting his mom's usual morning schedule. "There's something I need to tell you."

Ms Jung nods at him to go on, and though it's a bit unsettling to see her with that blue face mask on, Wooyoung allows himself to enter.

"It's about San."

"San?" San has really seemed to worm his way into her heart, because the woman's interest is piqued. "What happened to him?"

"Well -- school ended on Wednesday," Wooyoung begins, wringing his hands together. "But I haven't been able to reach him since Monday."

Their last conversation sears itself into his brain, and although it doesn't have him in shambles now as it had a few days ago, Wooyoung still winces at how roughly San had spoken to him. But he understood however, and still understands, and although San said he wanted to be alone, Wooyoung knows he'll need someone to lean on eventually.

"Yeah," Ms Jung starts, hand absent-mindedly tracing over her baby pink robe. "I'd noticed you hadn't talked about him all week, but I didn't want to pry. Hopefully all is well with your friendship?"

Friendship, Wooyoung thinks, at a loss for words. He doesn't think what him and San have is just friendship, but at the same time, they aren't dating either.

Before he worries his mother more by taking too long to reply, Wooyoung nods. "Yeah. At least, I think so. I just need your help with something."

"What?"

"Can you...make a few meals so I could take them to San?" Wooyoung asks, and he's nervous because he's never asked this of his mom before. And it's a bit hard to gauge how she's feeling with that scary looking mask on her face. "But don't worry, I'll help."

"You always help," Ms Jung reveals. She's in thought about something -- Or not in thought. The mask thing is driving Wooyoung insane. "...Okay, I'll make something. But you have to tell me why."

"I can't reveal everything 'cause it's not my place, but San's mother is...quite sick and he's not taking it well," Wooyoung replies, watching as his mother's eyes gloss over with sympathy. "And I know he's been hard to reach because of this very reason, but I know where he lives, and I don't want him to be alone, is all."

"Oh dear," Ms Jung says, her empathetic nature making her quite receptive to people's suffering. It's something Wooyoung got from her, and although it'd burdened him at first, he wouldn't have it any other way now. "I could tell something was amiss when you first introduced him to me. He didn't seem very happy."

Okay -- maybe Wooyoung had just been overestimating himself when he called himself empathetic. "Really?"

Ms Jung nods. "Yes. His eyes were not as... joyful as his smiles wanted us to believe. Anyway, we should get started soon if we want to be finished by the time I have to leave."

"Of course." Wooyoung quickly nods. "I'll set the kitchen up for you. Uh, could we also make that mac and cheese we ate last time? San seemed to really like it."

"Sure," his mom says, smiling at him. The mask makes it look a little ghastly, though. "You're a good friend, Wooyoung-ah."

Wooyoung pushes up his glasses, a habit he's developed when he's quite embarrassed or totally shy. "Um, thanks. I should go get the kitchen ready now."

Yes, Wooyoung is the one who said he wanted to make meals for San. Meals -- as in, more than one -- but never would he have thought cooking could be so overwhelmingly tasking.

Ms Jung has the precision of a professional chef as she dashes across every nook and cranny of the kitchen, chopping onions, garlic and several other seasonings with the ferocity of a dragon whilst adding cheese over the baking tray of the macaroni Wooyoung got ready. Then, she's moving on to the bibimbap, cracking the eggs while Wooyoung has the carrots, cucumbers, and bellpeppers to dice and arrange.

Wooyoung almost wants to faint so he can get out of doing this, because his arms hurt really bad and all the measurements and chopping and stirring and frying has his head dizzy with confusion and pain. After this he doesn't think he'll ever want to cook again, but he's doing this for San, not himself, and he knows how much San loves home-cooked meals. If he can get San to cheer up through this, then all the chaos of ingredients will be worth it in the end.

Wooyoung's glasses fog up as his mother works on the dish on the stove, sautéing the mixture. He lightly swears at how inconvenient they can be, but it's heard by his mother.

"Are those glasses bothering you? We can get a new one if you want, just like we did the last time," she says, dipping some chicken into oil. "Contacts are good, too."

Wooyoung doesn't expect that, and honestly he'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about switching out the glasses for something else. But then he remembers all the times San had fondly adjusted them for him -- or the times he's pushed them up just to be an annoying tease -- and it's dumb, but Wooyoung really, really likes it when San does that.

"My glasses are fine," Wooyoung eventually replies, marveling at how tasty the food looks. The smells are incredibly tempting too. "And um, I've had them for quite a while so they've become dear to me, so."

He hopes he sounds convincing enough, and when his mother laughs, it's clear she believes him.

"I raised a very steadfast son," she muses, patting his back. "Never change. Okay -- maybe I'd prefer it much more if you could cook as well as I do."

"I'm an excellent cook."

"There's flour on your pyjamas, and I'm the one who's dealing with it."

"I'm an alright cook," Wooyoung corrects. He sighs, picking at his nails.

"What is it?" Ms Jung questions, ever so aware whenever he's dealing with something. "Come on, you can tell your mom anything."

Wooyoung bites the inside of his cheek. "I just worry that well, San won't like what we made. And he keeps ignoring all my attempts at contacting him. What if he's not even home when I show up? What if...what if he hates me for showing up?"

"He won't," his mom replies, her reassurance easing Wooyoung's nerves a little. "He likes you a lot, I can tell."

"On Monday, we had a presentation we had to do together. You know, that biology one," Wooyoung explains, because talking about sex education with his conservative, religious mother is just weird. "We talked, stuff happened, and he got mad at me. Really mad. I'm scared he won't want to see me again after this."

He fears his mother thinking of him as dramatic or emotional, but she doesn't. Instead, she listens to every word (while frying the chicken, of course), her calm expression comforting, as always.

"You told me how his mother's sick," she begins after he's done. "That's why he lashed out. You could've done everything right and he still would've reacted the same way, because he's hurt. I see it in the patients I work with all the time. A lot of them are angry, sad or disappointed at what they're going through, and all you can really do is to help them in any way you can. Even if that means giving them some space."

Leave it to his mother to make sense out of everything.

"But it doesn't hurt to pay him a visit. He'll appreciate it, I bet," Ms Jung adds. "And if he isn't home, we'll just have to try again."

Wooyoung nods, and inhales a deep breath. "I hope he likes it."

"He will."

The oil suddenly sizzles, startling them both to bits. But then they're laughing at how ridiculous their reactions were to it.

And Wooyoung, reeling with nervousness on the inside, really hopes his mother will turn out to be right.

* * *

Since Yunho's somehow gotten sick again and Mingi can't drive (he's afraid of it even), Wooyoung has no choice but to ask his mom since she's leaving the house too anyway. And he isn't too enthusiastic about it.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy her company or feels like he's burdening her by relying on her a bit too much, but because her driving can be a bit... vicious.

Wooyoung's heart is in his throat as the woman speeds down the roads, making quick turns and bumpy exits that leave him trembling and wide-eyed in fright.

He grips the bag of food they made so tightly his knuckles turn white as she swerves into the highway, all the colour drained from his face. He believes he saw his life flashing before his eyes once, but he isn't too sure.

But even if his mother drives like a hooligan pumped up on drugs partaking in a street race, Wooyoung can't fully fault her for being so quick and intense on the road. There'd been a time, after all, where she'd had him the car with her to escape the man that used to be her husband.

Wooyoung realizes he's been holding his breath the entire time only when the car comes to a screeching halt in front of the apartment complex San resides in.

"Is that where he lives?" His mom asks, pushing her sunglasses over her head.

"Yep," Wooyoung tells her. "Third floor. I just don't know if he's there though."

The woman nods, casting him a smile that radiates encouragement. Looking at her is like looking at himself, Wooyoung realizes, only he doesn't have long hair or red lipstick on currently. And the fact that he's also a guy, of course. "Call me after you're done so I'll know how it went."

"I will." Wooyoung grabs all his things and slips out the car, the cool breeze teasing the strands of his hair. They've been getting to his eyes a lot more lately, but Wooyoung doesn't have the heart to get a haircut.

Ms Jung soon leaves, and Wooyoung uses his free hand to pat down his clothes, fix his hair and ready every part of himself to meet San.

He uses his previous visit as a guide for where to go and which stairs to ascend. Before long he's looking at that familiar teal door, his heart thrumming steadily in his chest.

Wooyoung reaches forward and knocks, trying to compose himself. Everything is fine, just relax.

There's silence at first so Wooyoung fears there's no one home, but then he hears a click and the door opens, revealing the face he can't ever stop thinking about.

He inhales deeply. "Hi, San."

It's hard to read how San feels, but his eyes are dark and fatigued, and he looks gaunt. He's wearing a plain white shirt and grey shorts, barefoot.

His lips part to say something, but then there's voices within the house, belonging to what appears to be a girl and another guy.

Wooyoung is able to clearly see them a second later, and he's speechless because how does San know so many beautiful people?

"Got the toy Byeol's been looking for," the girl says, her dark wavy hair and pale skin making her look like a doll. The way she looks at San and touches his arm makes Wooyoung wary of her, and it doesn't help how the blue-haired guy beside her just gave him a once-over.

"Who is this?" The guy asks, intimidating despite his shorter height.

San clears his throat, something like remorse in his gaze when he looks Wooyoung's way.

Shit, he can't help but think to his dismay, did I just walk into a threesome?

"He's Wooyoung," San introduces, voice gruff. "Wooyoung, these are Jaehee and Hongjoong."

"Hey," Wooyoung waves, not even bothering to try hiding how awkward he feels.

Hongjoong smirks, while Jaehee just raises a brow.

"I think that's everything," San speaks up, hand motioning for them to step out. "Can you two leave now?"

"Eager to kick us out 'cause you have a new guest?" Wooyoung doesn't like how Hongjoong says this; it's as if he thinks he's only here to hook up.

San shoots Hongjoong a pointed look. "Just go. I'm not in the mood right now."

"Hope you feel better soon," Jaehee says, voice soft like she only wants San to hear it.

The atmosphere's mad uncomfortable as Hongjoong and Jaehee exit the doorway, and Wooyoung only loosens up when they're gone.

There's a moment of nothing, but San eventually breaks it.

"They're babysitting Byeol for the time being since I can't right now, and Yeosang has to work," he explains with a sniff.

Wooyoung nods, but then doesn't know exactly why he asks, "Are they your friends?"

"Yeosang's."

"Oh." Wooyoung glances at the sizeable bag in his arms, knowing San is looking too. "I, um, I don't want to bother you. I really don't, but I got so worried when I couldn't reach you for the past few days, so I -- I made some food with my mom and brought it with me for you. Hope this doesn't upset you or anything."

He dislikes how he rambles so much whenever San's concerned, and he's about to apologize for that when San pulls him into the apartment and holds him close.

"S-San," Wooyoung stammers, eyes big. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry for how I'd shouted at you on Monday," San apologizes, his voice so small and erratic. "I shouldn't have raised my voice on you like that when you only wanted to help, and...and you didn't deserve all those missed calls either."

Wooyoung lets his hand caress San's back, remembering how secure he felt when San did the same to him. "Hey, it's alright. I know you never meant to do it. You were just lashing out because of how unfair everything has been for you."

San sinks into his touch. It's such a stark difference to how strong and apathetic he usually portrays himself to be, but Wooyoung knows how much he just needs to be held right now.

I..." San pauses, clearing his throat a bit. "You looked... different on Monday -- "

"Oh, yeah," Wooyoung laughs, a little too enthusiastic to be real. "I wore some makeup. Mingi helped me with it. Thought you'd like it." What the fuck. Why the fuck did you say that?

"Oh." There's an extremely awkward silence for a second, but then San speaks up. "You looked good."

"Really?"

"Mhm." Though Wooyoung can't see San's face right now, he has a hunch the taller's smiling. "But I don't want you changing your look a bit for me -- or for someone else. I want you to do it for you, okay?"

Cheeks flushed and shy, Wooyoung quickly nods. "Okay."

"And it's not my intention to annoy or burden you," he soon adds. "I just want to be someone that's there for you. ... Also my arm's kinda starting to hurt from holding all this food."

San promptly moves away and takes the bag from Wooyoung, placing it on the table. It's then Wooyoung sees the dark ink sprawled over his mid left thigh, a drawing of a sundial and some words. Tattoos.

"Hey, San?" Wooyoung hears himself ask as he zips open the bag and pulls out the plastic containers.

"Hm?" San's eyeing the array of food, hunger blatant.

Wooyoung pauses, figuring he can ask about the tattoos later, and grins, wriggling the utensils about with his fingers. "Mom made a ton of bibimbap, chicken and the baked mac and cheese we ate last time. I helped too, of course."

"Thank you," San smiles back, and although it's small, it's very, very real.

They forgo the plates, and since the bibimbap is still quite warm, Wooyoung curls next to San as the taller digs into the dish, spoonfuls shy at first but quickly getting more generous.

Wooyoung shouldn't be watching -- he really shouldn't -- but he's never seen someone eat food so prettily. Or maybe he only thinks that way because it's San, and San makes everything look pretty.

San catches him staring, and starts to cough.

"Oh my god -- sorry," Wooyoung apologizes, frantically racing to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. He pours some into a glass cup and rushes back to San, hand on his shoulder as he passes it to him.

San downs it in seconds, adam's apple bobbing with each swallow. It hypnotizes Wooyoung, and he only snaps out of it when he hears a chuckle.

"That was so embarrassing," San starts, those lovely dimples peeking through, "so why am I laughing?"

"...Maybe because it was also funny?" Wooyoung's close enough now to read the words on San's thigh.

San sees, and to his shock lifts the shorts higher. He traces a finger over the tattoos, features contemplative. "'This too shall pass'. The good days, bad days, days you can't be bothered to remember because they're so uneventful." His smile reduces. "Everything disappears one day, because nothing lasts forever."

"That's a depressing quote," Wooyoung says, forever without a filter.

"I dunno; it helps ground me in reality," San places the rest of the food on the table, as well as the glass of water. "So I don't get my hopes too high up."

Wooyoung guesses he must look pretty bothered, because San just holds his hands and pulls him into his lap.

"I'm thankful you came here today," San tells him, fingers stroking down his hair. "So thankful. I was in such a terrible headspace, couldn't eat much the entire week. Seeing you today helped me so much, and I'm so grateful, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's cheeks almost hurt with how wide he smiles, not wanting San to stop with the petting. "You're welcome, San. I just want you to be okay. Mom also wants you to be okay. She likes you a lot."

"I like her too."

"What about me, then? Do you like me?"

"You're my new favourite person," San answers, honest. He grins, the light in his eyes gradually returning. "I just want to hold you forever; want us to always be able to talk to each other just like this."

Wooyoung folds his hand into San's, giddy at the prospect of being this close to the taller for a long time. "That sounds nice."

* * *

a/n: thoughts? also hope you have a great day today ❤

also, who in ateez? (credit to the owner)