* * *

No one talks for like, five seconds, but then San sits upright, hastily combing through his hair while a couch pillow's pressed on his crotch. A big, convincing smile stretches across his face, and if Wooyoung wasn't currently kicking himself on the inside for being so stupid he would've fawned over how lovely San looks at this moment, his pretty eyes crinkled and cheeks a subtle rosy pink.

"Good day, Ms Jung," San greets, and despite how freaked out Wooyoung is, he admires the taller's confidence. It's like San was never almost caught with his hands inside Wooyoung's pants in the first place, and maybe if Wooyoung thinks about it hard enough, it can turn out to be true.

"Hi, San," Ms Jung replies. Her keys jingle as she shuts the door, the sound of her heels echoing in Wooyoung's mind. When she turns and faces them again, Wooyoung can't take the terse atmosphere any longer.

"San had something in his eye," he blurts. His index finger shakes as he pushes up his glasses, way too anxious. San watches him, but he doesn't dare look him in the eyes. "He wanted me to help him get it out."

"Really?" His mother asks, sounding distracted. She walks to the table holding a few family photos, hands searching behind them. "Hopefully you two were able to get that thing out?"

Wooyoung clears his throat. His mother doesn't look particularly happy, but she isn't seething with rage either. "Yeah, we did."

"Uh, looking for something, Ms Jung?" It's San that speaks up then, doing this weird arm-stretch that the woman fortunately doesn't look at or notice.

"Yes. A key for one of the rooms in the hospital. Had to drive back for it and saw your bike at the front, San," Ms Jung replies, to Wooyoung's dismay. She's said nothing of the position him and San were in moments prior, eyes completely focused on finding that key.

But even then, Wooyoung has to know. "S-So you saw nothing else? Nothing at all?"

"Is there something I should've? I just assumed San was in the house and he was," his mom replies, and then snaps her fingers. "The key's probably in my room now that I think about it."

With that, she disappears into the corridor, and Wooyoung's legs almost give way with relief. That was so close.

San, with an arm still outstretched, looks at him with concern written all over his face. "You looked so scared."

Wooyoung doesn't want to admit just how close he was to shutting down, so he targets San instead. "What are you even doing?"

"Trying to get rid of my boner," San answers, voice hushed.

Wooyoung's face reddens, feeling as if someone had lit a match to it.

Before the taller says anything else that turns him into a fumbling mess, his mother reappears, expression a lot more open now.

"Found it," she beams, but frowns just as she checks her watch. "But I have to leave now, boys. I already told you this, Wooyoung, but there's some toast left and some leftover black bean noodles if you get hungry. This goes for you too, San."

She heads for the door, then playfully points at the male. "And I'm still waiting for that recipe you promised."

Wooyoung's heart drops as soon as the door closes, his lungs feeling too large for his chest. San gets to his feet and walks up to him, but when he touches his arm, Wooyoung flinches.

San pauses, perturbed. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung instantly apologizes, forehead warm all of a sudden. "Don't know what just came over me."

San presses his palm over his forehead in seconds, and swears, brows furrowed. "You're sweating, Wooyoung."

"I am?" Wooyoung wipes his forehead, and sure enough it's damp there.

"I think you need to take a shower," San suggests, tone disturbed. "How are you feeling right now?"

"Like I'm gonna be sick," Wooyoung says, every inhale like a bag of needles scraping his insides. "But I'm fine, though. I just need to sleep it off."

It's clear San doesn't believe him. "I don't think you should stay here for the time being. I'll take you out the house, so you can get some fresh air. But only if you shower first."

"I'm fine -- "

San tuts at him, expression stern and leaving no room for complaints.

But still, Wooyoung pushes his luck. It certainly doesn't help how fucking attractive San is when he's mad, even if it's due to how worried he is for him. "But San..."

"Do you want a spanking?" San tuts again, arms crossed and looking something like a drill sergeant. His jaw's set, but there's a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He juts his chin at the corridor, gaze firm. "Bathroom, now."

"I need to pick out my clothes first," Wooyoung argues, but at this point it's clear he has already lost the battle. But he doesn't mind it as much as he should, San's commanding yet doting side enveloping him in butterflies. His chest feels lighter.

"I'll pick them out for you," San says, pushing Wooyoung down the corridor into the bathroom before he can even register what just happened.

San steps into the shower and slightly flips the faucet. It takes Wooyoung a second to realize he's checking the water's heat. "Perfect. Not too hot, but not too cold either."

Wooyoung's suddenly overwhelmed with images of San in the shower with him, the water sprinkling over their bare bodies, and he clears his throat, hating how his mind wanders into less than innocent places at the least convenient of times.

"Do you need my help showering?" San speaks, and Wooyoung takes way too long to figure out that he's only joking.

"No. No," he lets out, more to himself than San. The thoughts are back again and he needs to be alone right now to get rid of them. "Can you please step out?"

"Sure." San nods, only to stop at the doorway, hesitant. "It's alright to be afraid of what your mom might think if she knows about us. In fact, I'd felt the same when I was still closeted. But I know a good person when I see them, Wooyoung, and your mom definitely is one."

With that, he leaves the bathroom, leaving Wooyoung with thoughts that are less hormonal and more pensive. He's once again left dumbstruck at San's considerate nature that seems to come at the most unexpected of times.

A little less nervous than before, Wooyoung starts to shower, on cloud nine with how deeply he feels for the taller.

* * *

San's choice of clothes leave Wooyoung flabbergasted, wide-eyed at the options as he enters his room and sees them folded on his bed.

The shirt and jacket are similar in colour, a deep burgundy that nearly looks black under the light shifting past the curtains. And they're fine, totally fine. What gets Wooyoung all choked up are the dark cargo shorts he spots right then, heart thumping hard inside his ribcage as his fingers trace its coarse fabric. He never even knew he had cargo shorts, because all he's ever worn are jeans and sweatpants that cover him and give his legs ample space to breathe.

But these shorts will leave Wooyoung's legs open -- even a sliver of his knees. They've always been an insecurity of his, a part of him he just wants to hide because of how odd he felt they looked.

Wooyoung contemplates just throwing them back in the closet and taking something else, but then realizes San must've chosen them for a reason. It wasn't that long ago San had seen him almost naked, legs exposed to the air and his eyes. He must've thought they looked alright enough to be seen. That they deserved to be seen, even.

Wooyoung bites the inside of his cheek, but can't deny the way his chest warms at how observant San always is with him.

Ignoring the unease burning in his gut at dressing a bit out of his comfort zone, Wooyoung starts to wear them. Seeing his bare legs by the time he pulls on the shorts is so strange a sensation, but he tries his hardest to ignore the feeling.

A knock sounds right then, and Wooyoung puts on his glasses and opens the door. He grins broadly at the sight of San's face; it's second nature at this point.

"You look great, sunshine," San compliments, patting Wooyoung's butt. The action gets Wooyoung all flustered, bringing him back to earlier on the sofa when he'd let San touch him there.

"Thank you," Wooyoung mutters. "My legs feel weird though. As if I've just ripped the skin off."

"Your legs look great. But I get it," San says, rubbing the shorter's lower back. "Before I started dressing the way I do, I always covered myself up too. Baggy anything was my go-to."

Wooyoung thinks the older's kidding. "Are you serious?"

"I'm not." San smiles, and Wooyoung wants to poke his dimples. "I used to hate myself. I hated going leaving my comfort zone because whatever I did, my sperm donor had a problem with. So I figured the best thing to do was to make myself as small as I possibly could so I wouldn't anger him."

"San..." Wooyoung begins, the taller's lashes fluttering shut when he holds his face.

"I'm just saying this to make you not as nervous," San tells him, lips curled in contentment at the shorter's touch. Like this, he looks like a kitten. "And, back then, someone helped me discover myself, and I'll always be grateful to them for that. So I want to do the same for you."

"Someone helped you?" Wooyoung asks, nipping the jealousy he feels right in the bud before it takes over. Although San's already revealed he wanted to try for a relationship with him, Wooyoung can't help the wariness he feels concerning this mysterious helper.

"He's just a friend. He helped dye my hair blond that one time too." San pauses, a dark look flashing in his eyes. "I've never slept with him."

Wooyoung's lips part in alarm. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm not mad at you," the taller tells him, pinching his cheek. "I know you never mean to offend. You're too pure for that."

Wooyoung grimaces at the term, stepping away to show his disapproval. "I'm not pure."

"And I'm not a quote unquote, 'sex god'," San teases, a blinding smile etched to his face.

Wooyoung groans, rolling his eyes. "Leave me alone."

San steps into his space, lips millimeters away from touching his. "Do you really want me to?"

Wooyoung has just showered, donned in fresh clothing and his hair not even combed yet, but he finds himself kneading his hands into San's hair, bringing them in for a kiss that takes his breath away and trips him up, landing them both on his bed.

San's lips are like pure magic on his, pleasant shivers slithering down his frame as the taller pushes up his shirt and plants ever so generous pecks all across his chest and stomach.

"I love your tummy," San whispers, breaths so soothing on his skin. He looks so dreamy like this, perched between Wooyoung's legs as he peers up at him, eyes alight with joy. "And I love your eyes, your nose, lips, legs..."

"Butt?" Wooyoung's neck burns. Why oh why did I have to add that?

"Yes, I love your butt too," San admits. "But most of all, I think I love how selfless and true you are, how honest. You don't hide things from me. You're always so determined to make me happy. And...it's been a while since I've had someone look out for me the way you've been doing."

"Because you're my friend," Wooyoung replies, not wanting San's confession to get him all disgustingly melodramatic and sentimental, but he's failing miserably. "And friends only want what's best for each other. I also think you're really freaking hot, but that isn't the main point I'm trying to make here."

San giggles, dimples framing his cheeks. This time, Wooyoung pokes one, grinning when San kisses the finger.

"And Yunho will apologize to you," Wooyoung says, his words coming out of nowhere for San. "I'll make sure of it."

San's eyes narrow, and even if he isn't in a bad mood, the mention of the taller has him guarded understandably. "There's no need to."

"I want him to," Wooyoung says. "Cause what he did was fucked up. He already told me he's sorry, now he just needs to tell you the same."

San just looks at him for a minute, eyes taking his features to heart. Then he's grabbing and pulling him to his feet, excited. "Let's go get some ice cream."

Wooyoung quickly nods, though quite stunned at the sudden change of topic. Is this a date? He itches to question, but he doesn't want to come off too strong. San's just confessed he hasn't ever had romantic feelings for anyone, and Wooyoung doesn't want to push him away when he's only just begun to open up to him.

After all, San has proven he's attracted to him in some way. He likes him, and Wooyoung won't let his drastic over-thinking get in the way of them having a good time.

So, he lets his mother know he'll be out of the house with San, and jumps on the older's bike without any help this time.

"It almost looks like it's yours," San wolf-whistles, eyes clearly appreciative of the sight.

Wooyoung kicks him, guffawing at San's appalled face. He blows a raspberry, adjusting the helmet on his head.

San leans over him, hands on his hips. "That's it: spanking time."

Wooyoung keeps laughing until the guy actually attempts smacking his behind, the only thing saving him being a neighbour getting her mail at that moment. She looks at them with unimpressed eyes, muttering something about 'teenagers' under her breath.

"What is it with you and spanking?" Wooyoung asks, giggling into his palm at how close they were to being seen by that woman. It's not like the possibility of getting caught doesn't frighten him -- because it does. But... he's also having a lot of fun. And after last night's fiasco, this kind of entertainment is just what he needs.

"Because it feels good," is San's nonplussed response, getting on the motorbike too. Wooyoung's whole face flushes at the implication, all of a sudden curious as to whether San's telling the truth or not.

It isn't the first time Wooyoung's been on San's motorcycle, but this time as San drives down the street, it feels different. San's shoulders are still broad and his waist perfect for hugging, and Wooyoung almost feels like he's floating in the sky, heartbeat steady in his chest.

The city's busy at this time, buzzing with people going about their day and Halloween-themed decorations strung around the buildings like spooky wrapping paper.

Wooyoung can't contain his zeal at having San pay for their triple-scooped ice cream like the gentleman he is, the taller's mint choco flavoured while his is of the birthday cake variety.

They sit at the patio located in front of the parlor they just bought from, San's skin glowing and his eyes like stars. He's so smiley right now, so fucking gorgeous Wooyoung has half a heart to snap a picture and capture the moment forever.

"What're you looking at?" San asks, licking his ice cream. There's some on his top lip, a fuzzy mustache that makes Wooyoung snort.

"You, San." Wooyoung leans in and, without a care in the world, softly wipes off the ice cream and puts it in his mouth. "Hmm, tasty."

San is caught off-guard, eyes vulnerable for a second before the emotion fades. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself at first, but then smears a bit of his ice cream on Wooyoung's nose. He then kisses it off, to Wooyoung's shock.

No one is watching, but even then, Wooyoung's pulse thumps with a vengeance. He laughs, high-pitched and nervous, behind his palm. "Feeling awkward?"

"A little, yeah," San admits, for once looking as nervous as Wooyoung. It's obvious he isn't at all accustomed to this. Or comfortable.

"Don't worry, I am too." Wooyoung licks his ice cream before it begins to drip. "But it was nice. The ice cream kiss, I mean. Though it was a little weird."

San kicks him under their table, making him laugh again.

"Sorry," Wooyoung snickers. He wants to kiss San again, badly, but he knows he has to control himself. "And thanks. For bringing me here, I mean."

At this, San smiles. "You're welcome."

"Remember what you said about spanking?" Wooyoung comments, his sugary treat upping his dose of courage. "When you said it feels good."

San finishes off the first scoop of his ice cream, nonchalant. But his ears are piqued, Wooyoung can tell. "...Yeah?"

Wooyoung crosses his legs, then uncrosses it. "Um, I want to try it."

"Really?" San stops licking.

Wooyoung nods, fearful San was just kidding about it and wanted to tease him instead. But to his surprise, San just nods.

"Okay." A smirk appears. "But you've gotta help with my history assignment first. I heard you're good at the subject."

Wooyoung sinks into his seat, not believing San's ridiculous proposition. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

"...Fine."

* * *

a/n: thoughts?