mentions of physical abuse and attempted suicide.

* * *

Wooyoung spent some time in the shower, and San could do nothing but sit on his bed like a total idiot the whole time, since his nerves just wouldn't allow him to relax.

What if Wooyoung hates where I live? What if I fucking bleed and die and he sees it and avoids me forever? San bit his thumb nail, highly disliking the way his palms tremored. He probably looked like shit right now, dark eye bags and all. And Wooyoung probably thought so as well.

San laid his head on his pillow to try and get some rest, but then quickly thought against it and stood up, walking in quick paces all over the area. He wanted to be on his feet when Wooyoung came back to his room, it'd be too awkward if he wasn't.

After a minute passed, the doorknob slowly turned. San stopped, his accelerated heartbeat vibrating in his ribcage.

Wooyoung then stepped in, dressed in a baby pink shirt that exposed some of his shoulders, and black shorts. His raven coloured hair was sort of damp, falling in loose curls over his forehead, and his cheeks were splotched with a faint redness in them. He looked like a doll.

"I saw your cousin on my way out of the bathroom, and it was so fucking awkward, and I don't even fucking know why." Well, a doll that cursed like a sailor, but a doll regardless.

"And, pink isn't usually my thing, but I kinda dig this look, not gonna lie," Wooyoung continued, and San had to avert his eyes because he didn't want to get caught staring at him.

"Uh, well, most of my clothes won't fit you that well," San said. "That's why I gave you that shirt."

Wooyoung stepped further inside, his eyes surveying the area. He pointed at the small desk and chair at the far left corner of the room. "What're they used for?"

San chewed his lip. "Homework."

"Homework?" Wooyoung grinned. "Cute."

"You say that all the time."

"What? You don't like it?" Wooyoung shot him a lopsided smile. "Do you prefer prettyboy instead?"

That word again, San thought. The tip of his ears felt hot. "I don't."

"Sure," Wooyoung nodded. He went up to the desk and took a forgotten pen on it. "I like your pen."

San was confused, the pen was just a regular pen. "It's just some blue-inked pen."

"But it's yours, right?" Wooyoung placed it back on the table. He looked directly at San, and San felt himself gulp.

He quickly nodded. "Yeah."

"That's why I like it." Wooyoung stepped even closer to him, and San's brain totally freaked out. Why was he so close?

But then Wooyoung just stepped past him and plopped his body on San's bed. He ran his fingers over it. "Ooh, your bed feels nice."

San coughed, and rubbed his neck. "I'll sleep on the floor. Seonghwa has some extra blankets and pillows."

At this, Wooyoung suddenly sat up, this uncharacteristic frown settling on his face. "Wait, you're actually gonna sleep on the floor? You must really dislike me then."

San blinked in surprise, and he tried to explain himself. "N-No, it's not like that. I just -- "

"Is it awkward? Do you find it awkward to sleep with another guy on the same bed? Is that it?" Wooyoung's questions rendered San a panicked mess.

"I -- I'm sorry," San eventually found himself apologizing. "I just...I thought you'd find it uncomfortable."

"Nah." Wooyoung patted the bed. "Switch off the lights and come lay with me."

San obeyed, because with Wooyoung, he just couldn't disagree with him for long. Once the lights were off, the stars plastered on the ceiling shone more vibrantly.

San slowly inched his way to his bed, trying to ignore all the stares he'd been recieving from Wooyoung.

As soon as he was rested, Wooyoung chuckled, the low sound sending chills down his back.

"San... You good?"

"Yeah," San whispered. "...Are you good?"

Wooyoung nodded. He smiled, before releasing a sigh. "I'm okay now. But earlier tonight, I wasn't in the slightest."

It was dark enough that most of their bodies weren't visible, but San could still see the soft contours of Wooyoung's face.

"I'm sorry your parents are like that."

Wooyoung shifted so he could stare directly at the ceiling. "Hey, it isn't your fault. My parents have always been like that before I even met you." He glanced at San. "Dude, I can't believe I've never asked this before, but, why are you living with your cousin?"

San closed his eyes, the smiling faces of his late parents appearing in his mind. He let out a small sigh.

"My parents died." And it's because of me.

Wooyoung paused, and didn't say anything for some time. But then, San felt a warm hand lacing with his. "I'm sorry."

San laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it just came out extremely forced. "It's fine."

"I shouldn't have asked." Wooyoung's hand squeezed his, and warmth flooded his face.

"It's fine." San's voice was rough.

Silence flushed over them, but it wasn't a tense, uncomfortable one. It was calm, rather, and San was glad that the darkness of the room hid the growing blush on his cheeks.

"Hey, you feel like sleeping?" Wooyoung's voice cut into San's thoughts.

"No."

"Me neither." Another pause. "Hey, we should totally do something."

San nodded. "What?"

"Let's call it the 'Insecurity Feud'. I'll say something I hate about myself and you'll say something you hate about yourself, and we'll judge which one is worse." Wooyoung sat up, his back pressed against San's pillow. The pink shirt he wore slid down his right shoulder, exposing more of it, but he didn't seem to notice.

San, however, did, and he had the sudden urge to adjust it, his throat feeling dry. He looked away though, not wanting to appear weird. "...Sounds sadistic."

Wooyoung shrugged, seeming unbothered. "Possibly, but I wanna know more about you."

"I know you just wanna find out more about that bleeding problem I have," San said.

"What can I say?" Wooyoung reached out to tuck a strand of San's locks behind his ear. He chuckled when the latter's breath hitched. "I'm curious... And I know you're curious about me too..."

San's chest felt cold the second Wooyoung retreated his hand, but he cleared his throat to look casual. "Whatever."

"I'll go first," Wooyoung suggested.

"Sure." San's voice betrayed nothing, but the other teen was right, he was curious. Curious about a lot of things regarding the dark haired male, in fact.

"I used to have an older brother, he died a few months after he was born," Wooyoung continued. "I didn't know him since I didn't even exist yet, but my parents must've liked him a lot. Guess that's why they always pressured me to act a certain way."

San's eyes widened. He never expected Wooyoung to say something like that. He watched the other male, but Wooyoung wasn't looking at him anymore. "Woo..." His voice broke. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Wooyoung replied, his tone bordering on stern. "I'm fine." He rolled to face San. "Now, it's your turn."

"You already know this, but my parents...are dead. They died on my thirteenth birthday." San inhaled a huge breath. "I've never liked my birthday since then."

"That fucking sucks." Wooyoung's thumb ran over the ridge of San's knuckles. "Yours is way worse."

San softly chuckled. When he looked up, Wooyoung was smiling as well, his bright eyes staring intently at him.

"We're friends, so you already know that I don't like being ordered around." Wooyoung bit his lower lip, his eyes dimming. "But my parents -- especially my dad -- didn't like that. He always wanted everyone in the family to listen to him, so we had a few clashes here and there."

San felt Wooyoung's grip on his hand tighten.

"He'd shout at me and hit me whenever I didn't listen to him, and it got so bad in middle school that the teachers noticed the bruises on my body," Wooyoung added. Despite his heavy words, his tone was void of feelings, recalling those horrendous events like he was reading an article from a newspaper. "And then, he stopped. Or more like, lessened the beatings. I, on the other hand, just continued to do what I wanted, spending less time in the house and more of my time out with friends. Even if those guys I hang out with can be assholes at times, they're still a hundred times better than my family."

San intertwined their fingers, wanting to comfort the boy in any way he could. He didn't want Wooyoung to feel like he was alone.

Wooyoung's eyes trailed over his face. "...What about you?"

"I -- I used to get bullied a lot," San focused his gaze on his pillow, feeling too ashamed to be saying this. "I mean, ever since I was young. People at my old neighbourhood used to think that I was cursed for existing, and it worsened when my parents died in a car crash." A lump formed in his throat. "The students at my old school didn't like me -- in fact, they either avoided me or messed with me by grabbing my wrists, pushing me or tripping me over. Especially the guys. That's why I don't like being touched.

"I didn't tell Seonghwa about it either. He already had enough to worry about, and his parents didn't want me being around them. I -- " San's jaw clenched, the lump in his throat getting bigger. "I just felt like a burden to everyone else. No one liked me, and I wanted to simply disappear."

Wooyoung's other hand ran over his cheek, cupping it. "You don't need to continue talking about it if you don't want to."

"No," San shook his head. His heartbeat was erratic, especially now that Wooyoung was tenderly stroking his face. "It's fine. I wanna talk about it." His fist clenched. "I won't go into details, but I tried to end my life. Obviously, it didn't work."

Wooyoung was deathly silent now, but his eyes were trained on San, watching, listening.

"But I'm glad it didn't."

"Why?" Wooyoung asked, his tone dripping with curiosity.

"Because if it'd worked, if I had died, then I wouldn't have met you..."

Wooyoung recoiled his hand, and the silence between them suddenly grew thick. San panicked, fearing that he'd done something wrong.

"That's so dumb."

San felt like icicles had splintered his heart. "O-Okay."

"I'm not nice, or anything like that. I don't think I've done anything good for you since we've met. But you," Wooyoung picked at his shirt, purposefully avoiding San's eyes. "You fucking make me sane. And you're actually nice. You make me forget about all the bad that's going on in my life, and you've made me smile countless of times, no matter how selfish that sounds." He huffed out a sigh. "Although I may not seem like it, I genuinely enjoy your company. Like, really. I should be the one thankful that I had met you."

San's heart fluttered, and he felt all warm and mushy inside. And this time, he wasn't annoyed by it. Rather, he accepted it, acknowledging that this was the way he felt only around Wooyoung. And honestly, he didn't mind.

"Thank you," he replied. "For saying that, I mean. Makes me feel nice."

Wooyoung faced him, a big smile painting his features. "You're welcome, prettyboy."

And as always, that petname made San's knees weak. "Don't call me that."

"Prettyboy, prettyboy, prettyboy." Wooyoung chanted, poking San's cheek.

San huffed, turning on his side so his back would face the other boy instead. He hoped that would shut Wooyoung up.

"Fuck," Wooyoung suddenly cursed, sounding alarmed. It got San's attention and caused him to turn around, only to see the former's expression brimming with smugness. "Oh my god, I can't believe that worked."

San tried to seem angry. "I'm going to sleep now."

To his surprise, Wooyoung stretched his arms out.

"Then hug me. I like holding on to something while I sleep."

San was speechless.

"Come on Choi," Wooyoung beckoned, "I'll even be the little spoon."

What if I drool on him or something? What if he gets uncomfortable since I'm skinny? San's mind was filled with all kinds of thoughts. "I -- I don't know..."

"I won't feel uncomfortable with it, I promise," Wooyoung answered. "I just wanna cuddle."

So San, slowly but surely, reached out his arms to hold Wooyoung, his hands settling around his sides in a hug. Wooyoung moulded into him like he was the smaller one of the two, his body both warm and comfortable under his touch.

San could feel his pulse, smell the fruity shampoo on his hair. Wooyoung's face was pressed against his chest, his fingers casually running over San's clothed waist.

"This is nice," he mumbled.

San had to agree, feeling like was a nanosecond away from exploding into little sparks of happiness. "Yeah..."

Suddenly, something cool slithered underneath his shirt, which had him squealing in shock. He couldn't believe Wooyoung had actually slid his hands into his shirt.

"Wooyoung!" He whisper-yelled, while the aforementioned male laughed like a madman.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung wheezed, "just wanted to see if you were awake."

San tried to hide the wild blush on his face, even when his bedroom was already so dark. "You fucker."

"Did you blush?"

"...No."

And that night, they talked about their likes and dislikes as they laid in a mess of tangled limbs, bruised minds and tainted hearts laid bare for both to see. But they didn't mind, because at that moment, they knew they had each other.

* * *

a/n: the teasers for inception and thanxx omg AAAAA

thoughts?