San, despite being mostly covered up in piles of blankets that were smooth and soft to the touch, felt the cold starting to creep under his skin. The cool air slipped up his abdomen and spread along his chest, and finally, the teen lacklusterly opened his eyes.

It still stupefied San the same way it'd done yesterday night when he took in the sheer size of Wooyoung's room. The mininalistic-themed white decor looked a gloomier grey in the surrounding darkness, and San felt his perception of distance get all wonky and disoriented. He figured he only felt that way since he was so used to his own room and its drastically smaller size.

The pale curtains to the outside world fluttered a little about because there wasn't much wind to begin with. It was just cold.

For a while, San watched them distractedly, lost in his thoughts about the series of events that took place last night. He felt his lips lifting to form a giggly smile as he remembered when he and Wooyoung held each other on that very bed, Wooyoung's head buried on his shoulder.

San's hands absentmindedly ran themselves over the surface of the queen-sized bed, the space next to him empty and absent of warmth.

"Wooyoung..." San whispered to the air. The younger wasn't there, and for a second the overthinker in San wondered if Wooyoung's parents had found out about them and if he was now in trouble.

Idiot, stop thinking about that. Wooyoung's parents and sister aren't home, and nothing's going to mess today up. Everything will be fine, San thought, steadily breathing in and out. But now he couldn't sit still any longer. He needed to go find Wooyoung.

San pushed off the covers and carefully set his feet on the floors. A shiver cut through his core when the cold air freaking attacked him, and the sleeveless, thin shirt Wooyoung had lent him wasn't doing anything to combat it.

Without wasting any more time, San pushed his feet into his slippers and marched to open the door, leaving the room.

He paused, forgetting just how daunting and outright terrifying the halls in Wooyoung's house looked especially cloaked in the dark -- like they'd never end. But before he could plan his next movements, his eyes caught onto a thin strip of light coming from the door three feet away from him.

Like a bee to flower nectar, San followed the light until he was faced with a slightly ajar bathroom door that had the silhouette of someone inside. The person's back faced San, their form seated on the closed toilet lid while they had a phone pressed to their ear.

It was Wooyoung, and the mere sight of the younger made San's heart race and chest warm right up like he was at the beach on a bright, sunny day.

Wooyoung's face was like a blank slate however, something trapped deep in his eyes that made them appear...drained.

San pushed back his growing worries though, before politely knocking on the door and alerting the younger boy of his presence.

Like magic, that foreign look on Wooyoung's eyes disappeared, and in its place was a wide smile and a cute wave.

See? The voice in San's head assured him. Wooyoung is fine, and always will be. Stop worrying.

"Good morning," San greeted, watching as Wooyoung pushed the phone into his pants pocket.

Wooyoung quickly hopped off the toilet lid, making his way to the older male. "Hey. Had a good night's sleep? I hope my voice wasn't too loud."

San shook his head with a giggle. "Nah, it wasn't." There was never a time in his life -- even when his parents were still alive -- that he'd smiled this much. Yet here he was, smiling and chuckling like a maniac just because Wooyoung was there with him.

God, you're hopeless, San thought.

Wooyoung grinned. He stepped closer and gently ruffled San's dark locks. "I'm glad."

"Can I ask who you were calling?"

"Seonghwa. Just wanted to know if you're fine and if everything went well." Wooyoung kept staring at San, and it kind of made the older male flustered.

"Oh, okay." San nodded. "What time is it?"

Wooyoung pulled out his phone once more, casually rubbing one eye. He looked tired, and San had the urge to hug him and let his head rest on his shoulder. "Still early. A bit after four am."

"D'you still wanna go to sleep?" San asked. A part of him wanted that badly, wanted them to spend the rest of the day under the covers and in each other's embrace, safely hidden from the harsh outside world.

"We have school in a few hours, and I'm kind of an early bird," Wooyoung laughed. "Once I wake up, I find it really difficult to go back to sleep."

San nodded. "Okay."

"You still sleepy?"

San shook his head, trying his absolute best to stifle the yawn that wanted to leave his mouth. He guessed he must've looked funny, because Wooyoung began laughing again.

"So you still wanna sleep," the younger hypothesised.

"M'not sleepy," San denied. "In fact, you look a lot sleepier than I am."

Wooyoung flashed a subdued smirk that sent the older's insides spinning. "Trust me, San. I'm not. I'm a different kind of sleepy."

"I don't understand."

"And you don't need to," Wooyoung spoke in a hushed tone. He stepped behind San and held his shoulders, before slowly moving their bodies to the sink.

As if relying on pure instinct, San immediately looked down upon witnessing himself in the bathroom mirror -- but it wasn't because of the disdain he held for his looks.

No, it was due to those dark little marks that decorated his fair skin. They weren't painful like a bruise, or permanent like a scar, but they were there, and the reason for their sole existence made San's entire neck blush a candid pink.

"Don't be shy, those hickeys look good on you," Wooyoung muttered in San's ear.

"H-How -- " San swallowed a breath, "how the hell am I going to cover them up?"

"Why do you want to wanna cover them up?" Wooyoung questioned with a smug smirk that San wanted to kiss and and slap off at the same time.

"Because they're all over my neck and chest, Woo," San explained, unable to hide his anxiety any longer. "I don't wanna be stared at."

"Okay," Wooyoung nibbled on his lower lip, "I'll lend you some makeup to cover the ones on your neck. But keep the ones on your chest, I like to see them."

San just glared at the younger's amused state, gently pushing him off. "I can't believe you have the nerve to laugh when I'm out here freaking the fuck out. What if it turned out to be me who gave you those hickeys, huh?"

Wooyoung's eyebrows rose in contemplation. "Really? I won't mind that."

"You're unbelievable."

"And you're out of this world, honey," Wooyoung jumped like a preppy cheerleader, shooting San a multitude of finger guns.

San sniggered, but it turned into full blown laughter in no time. God, Wooyoung was amazing.

* * *

The clouds were a heavy, grey mess in the colourless skies, making everything below it seem like a wasteland. They cloaked the city area and seemed to shadow everything, especially Wooyoung's smile.

Once both boys had left the house and took the bus to some convenience store, that strange fatigue in Wooyoung's eyes returned, darkening his gaze and making him appear to have eye bags.

Since they were still a bit early, San had suggested for them to grab some sandwiches and two drinks in that store, and as they sat and ate, the older couldn't help but stare at Wooyoung with a worried look in his eyes.

Wooyoung in the meantime only took little bites out of his sandwich, before resorting to picking at it a few minutes in.

"Hey, Wooie. You okay?" San asked him with a smile he hoped looked healing enough.

Wooyoung lowly snickered, the skin around his eyes still that concerning lilac. "Wooie, huh?"

"It just came out -- sorry," San mumbled, but Wooyoung let his palm rest over his, running his fingers over his knuckles.

"No, it's fine." Wooyoung sighed, taking another small bite out of his sandwich. His eyes drifted off somewhere for a bit, which San didn't mind until he discovered where (or what)  the younger's eyes were trained on.

Beside the cashiers for safety, was an enclosed rack for cigarette packs, and before San could think more about it, he cautiously nudged the younger's arm.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, his dull, lifeless gaze settling on San. It made the hairs at the nape of San's neck rise, because Wooyoung didn't look like Wooyoung.

"Those cigarettes -- "

"I'm not going to buy them," Wooyoung said. "Just craving them a little bit, yeah."

"...They're bad for you, you know?"

Wooyoung just shrugged, which hadn't been the reaction San was expecting. "...I know. But they're hard to give up, to be honest."

"You can try some alternatives."

Wooyoung placed his sandwich on the food tray which had been served to them. "Yeah? Like what?"

"I dunno. Like uh...sweets or gum, or even coffee?" San suggested, chewing on his own sandwich to distract himself from Wooyoung's unrelenting stare.

"You know...you're the only person who's actually suggested to me some alternatives to smoking," Wooyoung admitted. He kept his gaze on the older male, watching the older like he could see right through him. "I mean, a bunch of strangers would see me smoking and turn up their noses, complaining about wayward youth and other dumb fucking shit like that. And then my friends would accept it as a common occurrence or even encourage it because it's 'cool' or whatever.

"And then my parents would shout at me to put that cigarette away, because to them anything that's out of sight is officially out of mind." Wooyoung's thumb continued to rub San's hand, uncaring of their surroundings. "But you, you do care. You actually care about me."

Butterflies flew around San's stomach. "Why...why wouldn't I care about you?"

"I guess I'm kinda not used to it."

"I wasn't used to liking how I look either," San said, "but you kept complimenting me, kept telling me how special I am and how lucky you are to have someone like me in your life. And eventually, I started liking me more. At least, I'm getting there. So...I'd like to do the same for you too."

San met the younger's eyes and grinned. "I'll be your safety pin. Your lifeline."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Really? I must say this sounds like a huge commitment you're making."

"I mean it, though."

Wooyoung leaned in close enough for San to spot the small beauty mark below his left eye. "Better keep your promise, Choi. No take-backs."

San softly punched his chest. "Duh. I promise."

* * *

Like a chaotic thunderstorm, Wooyoung's mood seemed to worsen more and more during the school period.

At math, students had been left with some assignments to do since the teacher had been absent today. And for a while, things were peaceful and quiet, until a stapler suddenly crashed next to San's right leg. The horrid sound it made startled San, but the next thing he witnessed outright terrified him.

Wooyoung had taken the stapler and stood up, the stationery clutched tight in his grip. "Who sent that?"

Chatter died down, with the other students casting nervous glances at each other. An uncomfortable, stiff silence enveloped the clsssroom.

"Who sent that?" Wooyoung repeated, his voice much louder and angrier.

It struck fear into San's heart, and he reached out to Wooyoung's unbuttoned school shirt, tugging at it slightly.

"Woo," he whispered, trying to get to the other male. "It's -- it's fine -- "

A boy leaning against his desk at the back with cropped brown hair jutted his chin out at Wooyoung in a mocking manner. "I did, dude. What's up?"

His friends next to him exchanged quiet laughter, but they instantly died down once they saw the look on Wooyoung's face.

He was pissed.

"Wooyoung -- " San tried again, but couldn't get another word in because the younger proceeded to throw the stapler right at the male.

Gasps and shouts erupted throughout the classroom when the heavy stationery slammed against the wall beside the boy's head, and that was only because he'd moved out of the way on time.

Which meant Wooyoung had aimed for the stapler to hit him.

"What the actual fuck, man!" The boy exclaimed at Wooyoung, but the look of fright on his eyes was as clear as day.

"Wooyoung!" San whisper-yelled, still struggling to comprehend what had happened. He gripped the younger's wrist, only to feel how stiff it was.

"Don't ever pull shit like that ever again, you hear me?" Wooyoung threatened, his voice bordering on a venomous growl. "Or I will rip you to fucking shreds."

San stood up then. He had to, because there was no way he'd allow the younger to do something he'd fucking regret later on.

Ignoring the many nervous stares directed at them, San held Wooyoung close to him and hurriedly pulled him out of the class. The younger's body had grown more lax, allowing San to drag him by the wrist and into the boys' bathroom.

Wooyoung was shaking, his hands trembling and chest hyperventilating like he'd just gone on a sprint.

San engulfed him with a huge hug, holding on tight like Wooyoung would fall and slip right through his fingertips if he didn't.

"Take a deep breath, Woo," San encouraged. The younger slowly obeyed as his hands fisted the back of his shirt almost painfully, but San didn't let that deter him. "You're doing good, okay? Just...just keep taking deep breaths. You'll be fine."

"Kang Jaehyung is an asshat. I know this, everyone knows this. So why -- " Wooyoung inhaled, "why did I get so worked up?"

"You were just having a bad day, is all," San reassured. "It's not your fault."

Wooyoung let him go and walked up to the bathroom sink, glaring so spitefully at his own reflection in the mirror. The sight reminded San of his lowest moments, of the time he'd spent submerged in his own darkness and wallowing in his numerous insecurities.

He could recognize the hatred in Wooyoung's gaze, because he'd been staring at himself with that same expression ever since his parents' death.

"Wooyoung," San stepped up to him, "it's not your fault."

"It is."

"It's not," San pressed.

Wooyoung turned around to stare at him, surprising the older with the sight of tears brimming in his eyes. "I fucking felt it again, San. That thing -- that ticking time bomb that gave me the urge to lash out and destroy. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than for that stapler to hit him across the face. I wanted to do even more than that to him. I was so furious."

Wooyoung's words weighed on San's chest like an anchor, and despite the implication of the younger's words, San securely intertwined their hands.

"It's alright. We'll figure this out," he kissed Wooyoung's forehead, feeling the younger starting to calm down. "We'll figure this out together."

Only time would tell if San's words turned out to be true or not.

* * *

a/n: thoughts?