"We always seem to be hanging out the most during lunch," Wooyoung's voice was heard in the library, close to the table where San sat at.

San refused to look up from the paper he'd been writing on, his fingers twisting around his pen.

"Choi," Wooyoung took the empty seat next to him. Once San looked up, he wriggled his fingers in a wave, that infuriatingly attractive smirk still present on his face. "Hi."

San forced himself to keep writing, determined to finish the class assignment before he went home later that afternoon.

"Don't forget, you're still my servant," Wooyoung continued.

"Hang out with your other friends," San proceeded to begin another paragraph.

"I don't want to." Wooyoung zipped his bag open and pulled out a pack of chips.

San looked around, panicked. "You can't eat in the library."

The other male just shoved a chip into his mouth. "Don't care."

San groaned. Wooyoung's presence, to be honest, wasn't that horrible, but San really couldn't deal with him right now, especially when he already knew the guy wanted to find things out about him.

So, he grabbed his paper and bag, preparing to leave.

Almost immediately, Wooyoung's hand reached out to grab his. San stared at the floor, hoping the warmth in his cheeks wasn't noticeable.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Wooyoung apologized. His hold loosened around San's hand, sliding down his palm and then lingering at the tip of his fingers. "I'm being annoying, I get it."

San sat, placing his stuff back on the table. "It's...it's okay."

Wooyoung dryly chuckled. "It's not, but, whatever." He eyed the paper, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "What's that?"

San didn't even know why he replied. "It's the korean language assignment Mr Jeon gave us earlier today."

"Ooh, how'd you manage to get them? I don't remember handling you the notes."

"I looked for him."

Wooyoung laughed, eyes crinkling and everything. "You looked for him. Damn, you're such a nerd."

"S-Shut up," San stuttered, hating how squeaky his voice sounded at that moment. Speak up, pipsqueak. San quickly shook his head, shutting his eyes. No, he wouldn't think about that right now. He absolutely wouldn't.

He opened his eyes to Wooyoung looking through his assignment, eyes promptly shifting through the words while his face remained in its usual expressionless state.

"Wooyoung -- "

"Fuck," said boy cursed, his wide eyes now focused on San's confused face. "You mean I've been busting my ass under the hands of my stupid hired tutor trying to get good marks for this godforsaken subject, when you can write an essay this good in like, what? Ten minutes? And you didn't even tell me?" Wooyoung fell into his seat, letting out a disbelieving scoff. "Shit, you really are an asshole. A genius asshole."

San blinked. Like a majority of his time spent around Wooyoung, he had no idea how to respond whenever the boy went off on one of his rants. "Um."

"Teach me your secret," Wooyoung continued, reading through San's essay as if it had all the answers to the world's greatest mysteries or something.

"It's...nothing special, though."

"Are you kidding me?" Wooyoung retorted.

"You like it that much?"

"This paper alone can get me at least a ninety," Wooyoung said, and his excitement about what San didn't even consider as something to brag about, made the boy feel like...like maybe he had something, no matter how small it was, that he could be proud of.

"Is it that...good?" San's voice was quiet, not wanting to admit that the other boy's words had affected him way more than he let on.

Wooyoung eagerly nodded. "Duh."

"Then, I can...maybe...help you with your essay?"

San didn't know what had possessed him to say that, but the way Wooyoung's eyes lit up by that one measly statement shocked him in the most pleasant of ways.

"Shit, really?" The boy asked.

San scratched his nape, for once feeling like he was doing something right. "Yeah."

"Fuck, I'm so happy right now I feel like I could kiss you," Wooyoung said as he popped more chips into his mouth. "But, that would be weird."

San, red-eared and embarrassed, played with his blue-inked pen, not knowing what he should do with himself. He wanted nothing more than to just disappear at that point in time.

* * *

"You look awfully smiley tonight," Seonghwa told San that evening. After San had told him of what had happened at school today (minus his confusing interactions with Jung Wooyoung), the older had made sure to spend as much time with his cousin as possible, not wanting him to get drowned in his negative, self-deprecating thoughts.

San perked up at this, his fingers automatically starting to poke and prod themselves inside his sweater's pockets.

"I'm not," San denied. He didn't want his cousin getting the wrong idea, and he definitely didn't feel ready to let him know about Wooyoung, for whatever reason. What even were they, anyway? Strangers? Acquaintances? Classmates? Friends?

"Hey, Sannie... This is what I mean." At this, Seonghwa handed his phone over to him, and when San saw himself on the camera, his first instinct was to recoil.

He despised the sight of his face. "God, I look like crap."

"No you don't," Seonghwa assured. San didn't believe him though. "Come on, take a look for yourself."

And he was right. San did look 'smiley' (sort of), and there was this twinge of creamy pink that coloured his cheeks. It looked suspiciously close to a blush.

"I would've asked if it was as a result of a fever, but I know it isn't since that small smile still hasn't left your face," Seonghwa said, causing San to crumple further into the sofa. "So...what's up?"

"It's nothing, Hwa," San answered. His fingers had started to hurt now, and he knew he must've picked at them too much.

He flinched when Seonghwa gently pulled out his left hand, his eyes dimming over with worry. "Seonghwa -- "

Seonghwa's eyes were wide as they settled on the bruises etched over his fingers. "S-San," his voice shook. "What's going on?"

San yanked his wrist off of Seonghwa's grip, finding it too tight. It reminded him of things he never wanted to remember, but before he could start to panic, he stood up, shoving the hand into his pockets.

"San, I'm so sorry," said Seonghwa.

Now, look what you've done. He was just trying to look out for you, but then you went ahead and fucked it up. You fuck everything up, including yourself.

San felt pathetic. "It's -- " he inhaled, "fine."

"San."

"I'm going to my room," San told him, trying his best not to let Seonghwa's saddened eyes get to him.

San sank himself on his bed, and when he rubbed one eye, his fingers felt wet. He felt the remainder of his good mood go down the drain. His thoughts were so vivid and rampant that he almost didn't hear his phone ring at first.

He grabbed it, answering and pressing the device against his ear. He didn't even know who it was, as his eyesight was all fogged up with the tears he refused to make fall.

"Hey, Choi."

San sniffled.

"...San, are you there?"

San didn't know how to reply, so he just kept his mouth shut, occasionally sniffing.

"Choi," Wooyoung pressed, sounding annoyed. "What is going on? Are -- are you crying? Answer me."

"I..." San's voice freaking broke. "I'm not."

"You are," Wooyoung replied after a few moments of silence. "You're fucking crying."

"I'm not crying."

"You are, but why? Why are you crying?" Wooyoung's voice was softer now, losing all its previous edginess. And for some strange reason, that made the tears in San's eyes much harder to contain.

"I don't k-know," San replied like the fucking pathetic sap that he was, and once again, the line on the other side grew quiet. Fuck, you just had to scare him away with how disgustingly overdramatic you are, didn't you?

"Don't cry," Wooyoung said again. "You're too nice to cry."

"T-Trust me, I'm not."

"To me, you are," Wooyoung assured. "So stop crying, mmh? I don't like it at all. Makes me feel as if I did something wrong."

San clenched his eyes shut, his teeth gritted. "I'm," he hiccuped, "I'm trying to."

"That's good, that's very good," Wooyoung replied. "And try to take deep breaths as well. Like, you'd hold your breath while I count to five, or something like that. I'm not too familiar with it. But, I just want you to calm down, 'kay? I'd sing a song too but I can't sing for the life of me, and the goal is to calm you down, not scare you off," he rambled, and god, San felt like holding him and never ever letting go.

"Are you laughing at me, Choi?"

San faced his phone, chuckling at it. He felt like a madman, tearing up and smiling at the same time. Gosh, what was up with him today? Right. He'd died. But Wooyoung's voice stopped him from spiralling further into his head.

"Don't tell me you slept on me, asshole."

"I didn't." San cleared his throat.

A moment of silence passed, one where San just listened to the steady rhythm of Wooyoung's breathing from the other line, and then said male decided to speak up.

"Do you...do this often?"

San clicked off Wooyoung's contact picture that he'd been staring at seconds before, feeling as if the other boy could see what he'd just done through the screen. "W-What?"

"Cry."

"I don't."

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

"You don't."

"Wow, so helpful."

"Thanks."

A pause, and then a: "Cut the call, I'm texting you because I'd feel really fucking awkward saying what I'm about to say with my voice."

"Okay..." San did as the boy asked, patiently waiting for his text.

- wooyoung
can we be friends

- wooyoung
i mean, can we be closer friends than before

- wooyoung
like, ya know, buddies
ew, i just cringed, but yeah

- wooyoung
buddies

San stared at Wooyoung's messages, his mind racing with every possible scenario of how he could've replied.

* * *

a/n: thoughts?