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Hello readers and thank you for being here with me again ♡

This ff wasn't supposed to happen but then 'Warriors' was released and the pictures for the new comeback came along, my mind started working so... here we are!

It's the first time I start to write something without having everything clear: I know where to start but I'm not so sure on where to end, hopefully this will have a happy ending but I don't know if I can really promise that lol (don't trust me, I wouldn't)

On top here you can see our two protagonists, they're so handsome I want to chew glass.

Okay, I'm done. Enjoy and let me know what you think ♡

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[ BEFORE ]

"Stay–" San's fingers reached the hem of his pants holding him back.

The blue moonlight reflecting its shining into his eyes as he stared expectantly at his lover. San was always so beautiful but in that dim light he had something even ethereal and Wooyoung could just indulge a bit longer, bathing in that view.

"Young-ah, please just for tonight–" the whisper had him back from his train of thoughts.

San was still laying on the makeshift bedroll he had created for the night, naked body just half covered with a thin dirty blanket. For a second it felt so tempting: what wrong could it do if he just laid down again? He could go back at dawn and maybe nobody would notice. Wooyoung's confidence wavered for a second, but soon his eyes fell on San dark tattoo: it seemed like the big wolf on his chest shone under the moonlight to remind Wooyoung of their roles in that life.

And he knew he couldn't stay.

"You know I can't, San-ah" he whispered back, his words quickly got lost in the silence of the forest.

San didn't reply to that, he lowered his head defeated but his hand didn't pull away from the hold on Wooyoung's clothes.

It felt too thick that silence, guilt piercing through Wooyoung's skin as he spoke again, more to try to convince himself to move than to make San forgive him, "If I don't wake up, if I'm late tomorrow, if he comes back and he doesn't find me, we–"

"I know" but San interrupted him, eyes looking up again, hand finally leaving him, "Can I– Can I at least have one last kiss?"

And Wooyoung just wasn't strong enough to deny him, he kneeled back down as he heard dead leaves crack under his body. One of his arms held his weight up while his other hand automatically flew to San's hair, fingers playing with the dark ends were they met his lover's nape. He lowered slowly trying to savor that moment as much as he could: San lips always felt the softest, pressing against his in a desperate kiss that held the frustration of a goodbye none of them wanted to say.

"When can I see you again?" San breathed against his lips when they detached.

"But you see me every day, you watchdog" he replied in a chuckle as he stood up again wearing his shirt.

"You know what I mean–" it didn't seem like San was willing to joke though, he never was when that time of the night came.

Wooyoung sighted, "On the new moon. I will be here" he wore his jacket about to secure the last golden chain when he felt two strong arms wrap around him, warm breath hitting his neck before plump lips that he would definitely dream about left an open mouth kiss on his still heated skin.

"I will be counting the days, my king"

And it suddenly felt too much, the ache into his heart becoming unbearable as he quickly walked away disappearing into the dark and never turning back, knowing how weak he was. Just the sight of those sad eyes would have made him turn on his steps and ran back between those arms where he could really feel loved, safe, at home.

It had never been easy for Wooyoung. His destiny had been decided even before he was born. He was the last child, the youngest prince of Aurora kingdom and since the day he saw the light his future was already written.

He was eleven years old when he met his future husband for the first time: his parents had talked about his wedding since he could remember. It was an important deal: one of the princes of Aurora, the pretties as his mother used to say, would have bring eternal peace over their country marrying the king of the most powerful reign: Hala.

"He's a good man just like your father, honey" his mother used to tell him while she brushed his long dark hair.

And on one thing she was right: the man was in some ways like his father, but not in the same ways Wooyoung expected him to be.

Wooyoung remembered that day perfectly, they had traveled for what felt like forever and when he could finally step out of their royal carriage he breathed a sight of relief. The castle of Hala was huge: way bigger and more elegant to what Wooyoung was used to, but also much darker. Black and gold were the dominant colors: black walls, black roofs, black flowers on the bushes and a huge black flag with a golden wolf embedded in the middle of it. He remembered how scared he felt when he walked pass the guards standing at the golden gate: they were tall and well built, already looking big just in their size but the armor they wore made them look even scarier. The wolf's head shaped helmet completely covered their faces leaving just a small gap where their eyes were, shining through the dark. Their well shaped bodies were covered in dark metal, only their arms left bare. But even that portion of skin looked weird and creepy to Wooyoung: black drawings covered the otherwise pearl white skin, scary thick lines representing horrible symbols and terrible beats looking straight at Wooyoung like they were ready to detach from the skin and jump on him as soon as he lowered his guard.

He felt almost relieved when they walked through the sumptuous but dark corridors, relief that lasted until they reached a thick and also dark wooden door. The man that had escorted them preceded their entrance to announce them and that's when Wooyoung felt all the tension. Behind that door his future husband awaited him.

Will he be gentle? Will he smile to me like father always does to mother? Will he be handsome? Questions, expectations and fears formed inside Wooyoung's head. Will he love me? Will I love him? Tension building up and transforming into shivers and goosebumps when he noticed the door opening once again. Wooyoung perfectly knew his duties: be nice, smile politely, bow deeply and charm him, that's what his mother had repeated thousands and thousands of times. And so he did: he walked down the black isle, head politely low, back straight, posture elegant and shirt unwrinkled. He had kneeled when he noticed the first step leading to the throne, he had waited feeling his heart hammer inside his chest like it wanted to ran away. Seconds passing slowly and feeling more like hours until the high pitched voice of their escort announced his name and his head could finally raise up.

He didn't know how he did it but he managed to hold the gasp that threatened to escape his throat when his eyes met those of the king. The man that was sitting on the throne couldn't be his future husband, could he? Wooyoung knew he was older but he didn't expect him to be his father's age, maybe a few years younger but still much older than Wooyoung. The glare was intense, onyx indifferent eyes searching his body for long. The king had barely spared him a word, eyes studying him for a few more seconds before he nodded and confirmed him to be 'pretty' to his father. The deal was done.

That night Wooyoung had cried his heart out, face buried into his mother chest as she kept caressing his head whispering sobbed 'I'm sorry'. But it was a fragility none of them could afford to show.

They stayed in Hala for two weeks and during that time the king never really took interest in the child he was supposed to be marrying in a few years, his attention was always directed to Wooyoung's father, discussing things that bored Wooyoung after the first few seconds. But it never really bothered the boy, he actually appreciated it, nobody cared about the little prince who was mostly free to wander around the castle. Soon he realized the creepy guards weren't that scary: they barely payed attention to him and those who did spared him nothing but nice words. Wooyoung knew them to be the strongest soldiers of the whole country, reason why Hala was feared by all. The young price never had a chance to be trained in the fine art of war, it wasn't his duty and he never really cared about swords and axes, but during one day of their stay something had changed. His curiosity was spurred by noises he could hear during one of his strolls around the castle, it sounded like an excited crowd and it came from outside. Wooyoung rushed to a room he knew to be overlooking a central courtyard where the noise came from and that's when he noticed a group of guards gathered around something - or someone - shouting and inciting whatever was happening there. He exited the room and walked around the courtyard keeping his distance until he found a spot where he could see what was happening in the middle of the dusty place. Two kids around his age were fighting: swords and shields in hand, walking around each other like cautious cats studying their prey. The taller one was the first to move, his feet hit the ground and a cloud of dust filled the air, his sword moved so fast that Wooyoung barely noticed it as it swung into the shorter boy's direction. The latter had quick reflexes though because in a second he blocked the hit with his shield, sword sneaking from behind it to wound his opponent that blocked at last. The taller used his strength to push the other boy, shields crushing in a loud clanging. The shorter looked in trouble for a second, he found himself unbalanced on his feet due to the brutal force his opponent had used but he quickly regained himself, his body spinning in an agility that made Wooyoung's jaw drop mesmerized. The taller one was definitely stronger but the small, pretty boy was fast and graceful, able to keep his rival at bay. He landed at the taller boy left side, were his guard was low, sword raising in a speed Wooyoung didn't believe to be possible, but missing for just a few inches. The tall boy had noticed the swing coming and had dodged at the last second, sword up again for the counterattack. They kept fighting for long, swords and shields clanging against each other, skin beading with sweat. It looked like the shorter boy was having the upper hand spinning around the taller non-stop in a maddening dance that had the other panting. Wooyoung felt his heart skip a bit when the sword of the taller flew up unexpectedly instead of his shield to ward off a blow, the other boy eyes snapped open too. He tried to keep the hold but the clash was so powerful the he felt his sword slip from his fingers and fly up, landing a few feet away from him.

"No!" Wooyoung gasped, a hand flying to cover his mouth scared that someone might have heard him, but nobody seemed to care. Eyes glued on the scene as the taller boy raised his sword with a smirk and spoke.

"Seems like you've lost, Sa–" but he couldn't finish his sentence because the shorter boy dropped down, his right leg swinging behind his opponent ankles and making him loose his balance. And in a second he was up again, charging forward, the taller boy was already on the ground legs blocked under the other's weight as his shield raised up and menacingly dropped down stopping just a inch from the taller's neck that gasped, eyes closing in fear.

"Do you surrender, Yu-yu?" it was the shorter boy's time to smirk.

"Yeah, yeah! I give up, you won... Jeez, you're so annoying!"

Wooyoung kept looking at the boy as he extended one hand to help is friend up and hugged him after making sure he was all right. They were still talking when the shorter was lifted into the air by a man that had his same dark short hair.

"Father! Put me down!" he gasped but started laughing as the man spun around and Wooyoung couldn't help but smile too.

"I knew you would win! You will be a great captain, son, I'm telling you–" he let him sit on his shoulders still cheering and laughing with the crowd.

Wooyoung found himself clapping his hands and whistling too and that's when the boy's eyes turned to look at him. His eyes were thin and dark, almost like those of a fox, shining with kindness and curiosity as he stared puzzled at the boy he had never seen before. Wooyoung found himself blush under those intense and beautiful eyes, but was unable to look away, holding the gaze almost like bewitched. He didn't know why but he felt attracted to the boy, like he knew they would be inseparable good friends, he didn't even know his name but he felt his heart beating fast inside his ribcage. Beating that turned into an uncontrollable hammering when the boy smiled to him making his cheeks and ears burn and his skin tickle.

That was the first time he saw Choi San. And at that time he didn't know he would see him again.

They were officially introduced the year after. Since the deal was done Aurora's king made sure to pay a visit to his son's future husband every year saying that it would be good for both their commercial relationship and Wooyoung so that he could get used to the environment.

San's father was the chief of Hala royal guards, role that everyone expected San to take over once his father would retire. So it felt only natural when he was introduced to the future king's spouse: his father had told him that they were almost the same age, San being just couple of years older.

"When you will be ready it will be your duty to protect our kings, get to know the boy, earn his trust and you will be the best chief this kingdom has ever seen" his father had advised him and he had listened.

When he walked inside the throne room escorted by his father he surely didn't expect to meet the cute boy he had spotted the year before during one of his trainings. He remembered how on that day he had asked his friends if they knew anything about a new recruit, but it seemed like nobody had spotted the cute boy with long black hair and big bright eyes. He didn't actually look like a new trainee, his clothes too fine for the arena. Weeks passed and then months and San started forgetting about that toothy smile and those soft cheeks blushing when he had looked back at him. He accepted that he probably wouldn't see that boy again so it felt almost like a shock when he met those same cute eyes in the throne room.

"It's you!" San couldn't help the exclamation to leave his tongue when he noticed the boy open up his eyes wide and jaw drop.

In response he got a whack upside his head, his father remarking him in a hiss audible to him only, "That's not how you speak to your future king, San-ah! Bend the knee!" a hand on his shoulder pushed him down, as his father quickly followed suit.

"I beg your pardon, my King. My name is Choi San and I swear by my sword that I will protect you for the rest of my life" only when he finished to speak he dared looking up again.

His eyes met those of Wooyoung and noticed how they shone in surprise, his mouth opened in a soft smile when a little chuckle left his lips.

"I'm not your king yet, Choi San. No need for all the formalities" he walked to where the boy was kneeling and extended one hand to help him up.

San looked at him confused but accepted the offer standing straight once again. There was something different in Wooyoung's appearance, he hadn't grown much, he still was a little shorter that San but something in his face had changed. His looks were sharper, more attractive somehow, showing hidden details of the handsome man he was going to be.

Wooyoung shook San hand as his smile grew wider making San blush this time, he was about to say something to hide the evident embarrassment, but Wooyoung preceded him whispering: "I'm just Wooyoung, okay? I'll accept your oath when the time comes, until then I'll be glad if you'd be my friend"

And friends they became. It felt clumsy and a little embarrassing at first, especially for San who didn't exactly know where he should stand, how he should address the kid he was supposed to swear his oath to one day but who behaved so friendly with him when they were alone. In fact it felt so natural to be with Wooyoung, to laugh with him and play together, slowly get to know each other better and realize that despite their class they weren't that different. They shared much more than what they thought: first of all the apprehension for their future. The responsibilities that Wooyoung held on his shoulders and started to feel heavier at each passing year didn't feel so different from San's duties as the older's body started to fill with many black inked tattoos, symbols of the role he would inherit someday. Having someone that could understand the weight of a burden so heavy became a relief and a necessity for both. It became a habit to wait with apprehension for the next summer to come: three long months they could spend together, San teaching Wooyoung how to fight with a sword while the younger would read his favorite books out loud under the comforting shadow of an oak. Being in each other presence felt natural and needed, shielding the two boys from the scary world that had slowly started to swallow them.

San had many friends at court but none of those relationships felt like the one with Wooyoung: it was like they were meant to be together, understanding each other in ways that nobody could. While Wooyoung found in San a companion that he could never have.

Becoming friends felt so easy, but even easier was falling in love.

It started with longer, stolen glances, with the way their eyes would linger on each other differently from before, discovering each summer how the other had grown. Looks that were quickly followed by a different physical contact: Wooyoung felt shivers running down his spine every time San hands lingered on his body with more attention when he taught him how to properly hold a bow. Or how his breath felt like getting stuck in his throat when they found themselves closer to the other during a sword fight. Wooyoung had long learnt how to duel but he always tried to find a good excuse to feel San closer, to have him touching his body, to have his mouth breathing warm puffs on his skin that made the younger tickle all over.

On the other hand it was impossible to ignore the butterflies flapping their wings so fast in San's stomach when Wooyoung fingers would trace the patterns of his tattoos while San leaned his head on his thighs during their reading sessions. As much impossible felt swallowing the moans that seemed to urge out of San's mouth every time Wooyoung caressed his hair, fingers brushing the dark locks pulling at them just slightly while his nails scratched his scalp so good that San was sure he could purr like a cat if he had allowed his mouth to open.

But they also knew where their boundaries stood: it felt easier when they were still teenagers, responsibilities feeling so far away during those hot summer days, but as they started to grow the weight began to show, growing on their shoulders. They never talked much about the scary future they were to face, but the word "marriage" was every year more frequently whispered in the castle corridors. And it felt useless: it didn't matter how much San tried to ignore it, to push it back, every time he heard that word there was no way of stopping the pit that created inside of his stomach, eating him from inside, hurting in ways that he couldn't understand, making him feel burning in anger or about to collapse under the weight of his jealousy. He desired Wooyoung with a despair he had never felt before and one day he just couldn't hide it anymore when he kissed him on the dusty ground of the courtyard. They had found themselves falling when San had pushed Wooyoung's sword back, the younger in an attempt to defend himself or counterattack had brought San down with him, both loosing their balance and hitting the ground. The hand that wasn't holding the sword had instinctively flown to Wooyoung's head preventing him to get seriously hurt, but doing so San found his body crashing on top of the prince, his weight pressing against the slimmer figure and causing a gasp to leave Wooyoung's mouth. He was about to move saying sorry but words got stuck in his throat when his eyes locked with those of Wooyoung that was already looking at him with a sparkle that San had never noticed before. He didn't know what had gotten into him but he found himself lowering and when Wooyoung didn't push him back but instead grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him down faster San completely lost it. His mouth crashed against that of Wooyoung that sighted in relief at that contact. His sword was quickly forgotten as he left it to move his hand to Wooyoung's face, calloused fingers brushing against too soft cheeks and angling his head better. And since the first second they knew they wouldn't be able to live without having each other like that. San thought he would have kissed Wooyoung just like that forever if he could, the feeling of his plump lips against his felt too addicting to stop, but as they heard the clinging of an armor not so far from them they moved away from each other. San immediatly standing up, still looking at a blushing Wooyoung on the ground.

Wooyoung knew what he was putting at stake: he was risking his and his family safety, his honour, the promised peace for his country, his own life... But when he tought about San he knew he couldn't give up the only thing that he had chosen for himself, the only thing that really made him feel alive and worth it. He would rather die than live a day without San. On the other hand San had never felt that way before and it scared him deeply. Wooyoung was his prince, the man promised to the king of Hala, the one he was supposed to protect but that he himself was putting in danger with his istinctive decisions. He had tried to make that feeling go away, spending his winters training every day, making his future as a soldier the purpose of his life. It worked for a while but every year, when the summer came, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. The woods became their secret place and the oak against which they had read many and many books became the only witness of that forbidden love.

It wasn't easy to stay away from the person you love, time passing slowly as the cold winter days flowed before the two boys' eyes, but even more difficult felt being close to them and know fully well that the love they felt couldn't be shown. They tried their best to find some alone time, but it felt like Wooyoung was never alone. Since he had come back to Hala that summer, the last one before his marriage, the king seemed to finnaly show an interest on him and San couldn't really blame him: Wooyoung was stunning. The teenager had grown into a man, a very beautiful one, and for the first time the king seemed to notice it too. He started spending much of his free time in Wooyoung's company, taking him to long walks in the gardens or showing him around the city. He invited him to seat next to him during the meals, taking Wooyoung's father place that gladly accepted to leave his spot for his son.

San had to witness to it all: he would walk at a distance behind them, too far to hear the lively conversation but not enough to miss every smile Wooyoung reserved to his king. And worst of all he could notice the way the king looked at Wooyoung, the way his eyes indulged on his curves when he wouldn't notice, the way he used every good chance to touch him - a hand, a shoulder, a strand of hair - and San felt his heart ache at every action but he knew he couldn't feel that way. He had known from the start what was the cost of loving Wooyoung and he had long decided that the pain was worth it if it meant being able to kiss Wooyoung in the darkness of the night.

He believed it until the wedding day.

San was Wooyoung's personal guard and as such he was compelled to assist and look after the soon to be king on the hours that preceded the ceremony. An ugly feeling had hunted San since the night before but in that moment, standing at the door of Wooyoung's room, while he was being dressed up in the most sumptuous suits he thought he was going to die. When Wooyoung walked out of the changing room with the most beautiful black and golden attire San had ever seen he felt his heart stop. Wooyoung was smiling brightly at his reflection in the mirror, admiring how the dress with the new colors fitted him perfectly.

You said you didn't want this marriage.

San wanted to scream, eyes burning with tears he couldn't shed.

You said I was the only one you loved.

The lump in his throat didn't seem to move as he felt his breath getting stuck there, uneven and rugged.

Why are you smiling like that if you don't want this?

His mouth unwillingly opened letting a stammered sight escape his lips. Nobody seemed to notice. Nobody but Wooyoung who's eyes immediately moved up and locked with those of San, the bright smile turning into a sad one that made the soldier's stomach writhe. And he knew he couldn't bare it any longer: the sight before his eyes was already painful enough, he realized that he wouldn't be able to stand still and in silence while the love of his life swore to be by the king's side forever. Wooyoung eyes kept looking at him, that sad, regretful gaze burning San's skin but he didn't move a finger. He couldn't hold it any longer, he rushed out of the room running through the corridors until he found a way out. He pushed on the door and immediately the cold winter air hit his skin making him shiver but allowing him to breath again. He crouched, legs too weak to support his weight, hands flying to his eyes trying his best to regain some sanity. He had to go back but just the thought of it made him sick, his stomach contorting, his head spinning in dizziness.

"San?" a warm voice surprised him making him raise his head to look at who had called him.

Yunho was looking at him with a worried face, "Gods, you look like shit! Are you okay? I thought you were with the prince"

San inhaled, "I'm okay–" he lied, "I just
couldn't sleep much last night. Do you think you can take my place only for today? I need to lay down"

Yunho moved his weight from one leg to another clearly uncomfortable, "San-ah, you know I'd love to help, but I'm just a watchman, I don't think your father will–"

"I'll talk to him" San interrupted, eyes pleading, "I really can't do this today, I-I–"

What could he say? He couldn't admit his real feelings but as he kept staring at Yunho with words stuck in his throat he noticed how his friend's gaze softened, he crouched down next to San, one hand flying to his arm helping him up.

"Go and rest, I've got this. I'll talk to your father to find someone to replace you. Can you walk?" San nodded whispering a weak thank you, he was about to leave when he heard Yunho call him again, "You know you can talk to me, right? We've grown together San, you're like a brother to me and there's nothing that could let me think differently about you"

"Thanks Yuyu, I'm really okay, just tired, I'll be better soon" he knew that the attempt of a smile he was faking wouldn't reach his eyes, but Yunho was nice enough to pretend to believe him and let him go.

He spent the rest of the day closed in his quarters, his father came to see him just a bit before the ceremony but San had pretended to be asleep in the dark of his room and he had left again without disturbing him, leaving him alone surrounded only by thick silence. San turned in his bed, unable to sleep, unable to rest, just waiting for that day to be over. He wished he could cry but he felt completely dry, not a tear escaped his eyes, the only feeling he could perceive was the unbearable weight at the base of his stomach, pressing against his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He waited and waited and waited, hours passing so slowly he lost track of time. He didn't know what he was waiting for until he heard it: the loud music and cheers erupted from outside so noisily to breach through the thick glass of his windows and that's when he knew it was over.

The horrible pain moved from his stomach to his chest squishing his heart in a deadly grip that tore an ailing scream out of his throat. He felt the air of the room raising in temperature becoming thick and humid. But there was nothing he could do. It was over.

Days passed but the pain didn't go away. It didn't worsen either though. It got to a point where San swore he turned completely numb, he couldn't feel anything anymore. He would stand at Wooyoung's side as he learnt to do many years before, in silence, like a walking shadow following his new king wherever he would go. He never tore his eyes off of him, but Wooyoung never looked at San the way he used to: his eyes lingered on the soldier sometimes but just for the amount of time that was necessaire to give him instructions. It hurt. But San could at least think that Wooyoung was pretending to be indifferent to him only because they were surrounded by people, curious eyes ready to judge Wooyoung's next move as a new king. San was sure he would look at him with that sparkle in his eyes when they would be alone.

But they were never alone.

San took his oath couple of weeks after the wedding ceremony and when it happened he was assigned two recruits as support on his watch over the young king. From that moment Wooyoung and him never had a chance to be alone in the same room.

The numbing fog that hid the pain stayed there until the sun would set, but when the night came the sorrow made its way back clenching around San's heart. During the nights when it felt particularly unbearable San used to flee his quarters and, hidden in the dark, would reach the passage in the high walls that leaded to the forest, to their secret place. The winter night was cold and the ground felt unwelcoming under his body but still he waited there. He waited for the pain to fade. He waited for the sun to raise again. He waited for a boy, to walk to were he was, lay next to him and embrace him, taking away every bad thought San could have.

The boy never came but San never stopped waiting, showing in the forest almost every night.

Days became weeks and weeks months. The cold winter weather slowly faded to warmer spring nights where the moon would shine brightly behind the once again thick foliage. San was laying on the stack of blankets he used as bedroll, his lids started to feel heavier at each passing second. The king had left for a friendly neighbouring country probably taking Wooyoung with him and his own guard, San had a day off but instead of going downtown with his friends he had spent the day in the courtyard training. His body felt heavy and slightly sore and he knew that the following day it would worsen, especially if he slept in the woods instead of having a good night of rest in his own bed. He turned on his left side trying to find the strength to stand up and walk back to the castle: there was no point in waiting that night, Wooyoung wasn't even there, he would–

He stopped his train of thoughts, body instinctively jumping up and fishing his sword from under the blankets when he heard the creaking sound of footsteps approaching him.

"Who's there?" San shouted, standing up, ready to fight if necessary.

"You sure have settled, I'm impressed" the voice arrived first and it was enough to make San's heart skip a bit, but when Wooyoung's slim figure appeared from behind the trees San thought it would break his chest and leave his body for how soundly it was beating.

"Wooyo–" he stopped his whisper half way, his head bending down along with his knee, "My king, I–"

Wooyoung high pitched laugh left him speechless, "Sanie, are you for real? My king?"

San lips stretched in a thin line waiting for Wooyoung's laugher to fade, "What are you doing here? I thought you left with the king"

Wooyoung shrugged it, "He preferred to go alone" he slowly walked to where the soldier was standing unable to move a muscle, "It feels like forever since the last time I've been here"

When long fingers brushed a strand of hair behind San's ear the boy shivered, lips opening unwillingly and let a sigh leave them, "I missed you, Sanie" he heard the boy whisper, hand cupping his face and leaning closer but San stopped him taking a step back.

"You never came, I waited for months. You never came" words left his mouth before he could even think.

He noticed how it hurt Wooyoung, a guilty shadow fogging his eyes for a second before he replied, "Do you think I didn't want to be here? I thought about you every second, I missed you like crazy. I wanted to be with you but I couldn't just leave the room, he would notice, San-ah" he paused, "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I just–" his hand slipped away from San's face, eyes lowering defeated, "I'm sorry!"

San's weak heart grew of a size when those suddenly sad eyes left his: regret taking over, making him speak before it was too late.

"No, you're right. I am sorry, you did nothing wrong, I knew it all along how it would be, I'm acting like a baby, I'm sorry" and he finally could move taking Wooyoung's soft hand in his, he promised himself he would protect Wooyoung, he wouldn't be the reason for his sorrows.

"My baby, though" Wooyoung smile was back, looking at San with that sparkle he thought he would never see again.

"Woo– I missed you so much!" San pulled the shorter boy into a hug so tight like he never wanted to let go.

"Me too" Wooyoung whispered back, face raising to kiss the corner of San's lips, "I was going crazy without–" but he couldn't finish his sentence because he was silenced by the most desperate kiss he had ever received.

San pressed against him, any space dividing them disappeared in a tangle of arms and hands roaming, mouths tasting, opening in brief silent sights. They whispered each other's names falling back to the bedroll that had welcomed just one body until that moment. The fabric of the cold blankets warming up thanks to their heated skin quickly stripped off useless clothes. San kissed every inch of Wooyoung's body, trying to memorize it back and realizing he could still remember all his favorite and most sensitive spots. His hands worked the buttons of Wooyoung's shirt taking it off so that his mouth could continue his path down his–

"What's this?" he stopped, his fingers brushing a purple mark just below Wooyoung's collarbone that had started to fade, San felt his stomach squirm in jealousy as he kept starting at it.

"Sanie, I don't–" Wooyoung gulped, "H-he likes– I-I can't say no... I–" his voice broke, hands moving to cover the traces of a shame he knew he couldn't hide but San moved as well.

Calloused fingers interlaced with soft long ones taking them away and revealing once again the hickey so clearly standing out on Wooyoung's otherwise perfect skin. It didn't take long to San's mouth to zeroing the distance once again, lips closing around the mark left by the king kissing, biting, sucking until it showed its original colors, dark and bruised on Wooyoung's skin.

"It's fine" San's voice covered Wooyoung's breathy moans, "I'll make you forget everything, you won't remember anything of what he did to you, there will be just me" his hands flew around his body, fingers holding him dearly while he let the younger lay down, naked and perfect under San's bare body.

San's palms traced every inch of him, leaving nothing unloved, hands spreading his legs so that he could sit in the middle of those soft thighs. Wooyoung blushed when their eyes met and shivered when San's mouth brushed his groin, "Are you cold?" breath hitting his skin in warm humid puffs.

Wooyoung nodded slightly, "Just a bit" words coming out in breathy whispers and when San smiled he felt himself blush, he handed him another blanket, thinner than those spread on the ground.

"Cute–" he heard San say before he sank back down leaving another kiss just next to his previous one, "Cover yourself if you're cold" he added before he brought his pointer and middle finger to his lips.

Wooyoung had heard him but he couldn't push himself to move, fist clenched around the blanket still laying at his side, his eyes were locked to San mouth sucking on his fingers while he kept staring at him.

After a minute or so he removed them with a wet sound, a string of spit and saliva still connecting mouth to fingers until he moved them. And Wooyoung gasped when he felt the pressure on his hole, San's other hand keeping his cheeks spread, "I'm just sorry I won't be able to see your face while I do this" he heard San say but he couldn't look at him anymore because he felt one finger breaching him open, sliding all the way down and curling, immediately hitting his prostate dead on.

San chuckled and repeated his action bathing in that view until he noticed goosebumps raising on Wooyoung's legs, he slowed down keeping his motion but snaking up at Wooyoung's level and stealing the blanket from his hand, "I love how you loose yourself when I touch you but I'd love even better if you don't catch a cold" he kissed Wooyoung's nose helping him to cover their bodies and when he was sure the younger was fine he sank back down, his head disappearing from Wooyoung's view and immediately making the boy's back arch.

The moan that ripped from Wooyoung's throat was nothing compared to the pleadings and prayers that escaped his mouth when the fingers became two and then three and four, soon followed by a warm tongue that made sure the gaping hole stayed wet. Wooyoung hadn't experienced so much pleasure for months, his mind numbing under San hands, completely forgetting anything else.

During the passed weeks he had thought about San, he didn't lie: there was no day he would spend without the boy occupying his mind. But every night when the king joined him in their huge bed he knew that only guilt would follow every time he thought about San. He didn't tell him how he had cried in the tub of his quarters after the night of his wedding while loud snores came from the bed. He didn't tell him how the king, drunk for the many toast of the day, had abused of him without even showing a little bit of pity. He didn't tell him how disgusting he felt. How difficult it was to fake pleasure when the only thing he could feel was repulsion. But all those ugly feelings were forgotten when he was finally able to be with San again.

"Aah-nghhh!" Wooyoung moaned even louder when he felt all four fingers curl and press against his sweet spot.

His voice resounding so loud in the silence of the forest that San's head peaked from under the blanket with a finger pressed against his smiling lips, gesturing him to keep it low.

"San-ah– please! Give it to me!" he whimpered causing San's smile to just grow wider, his fingers immediately leaving Wooyoung's hole to lowers his pants, the last garment still on his body. When his erection fell back on Wooyoung's tummy he whined even more, it felt heavy and hot and oh! he really needed it bad, "Please!"

"Yeah, gimme a second" San protested trying to wet his cock as much as he could to not hurt the younger, and that's when the idea flashed in front of Wooyoung's eyes.

He spat on his own hand quickly reaching for San's erection and stroking it at a slow even pace, San threw his head back suppressing a moan. Wooyoung had missed that view, so much that he couldn't help but move: his hand leaving San's shaft to hold his thin waist for a second and moving him to lay on the bedroll. He was quick to sit in the same position San had been before, lowering between his legs and taking his cock into his mouth, tongue rolling around the sensitive tip, collectiong precum before sinking down with a muffled moan.

"Ohhh– Young-ah!" San breathed out in pure pleasure, "It's been too long, I won't last!" he warned when he felt the younger bob his head up and down at a quicker pace, the tip touching the back of his troat and making him gag.

"I'll just make it wet, then–" Wooyoung whispered, lips brushing against the tip before they opened to let his tongue slide all over San's shaft, up and down in fat noisy stripes. Only when he heard San beg he moved to the tip again, mouth swallowing, engulfing, sucking with intention until he felt San's breath get more erratic, hips stutteting and trying to reach deeper down Wooyoung's throat while he called his name and pulled at his hair.

He came off with a pop, lips swollen and wet that opened and let his tongue lick them to collect excessive spit and precum. San's eyes were on him, half lidded and fogged with lust, "Young-ah–" he called again in a raspy voice, "'s good, you're so good! Missed you so much!"

"I missed you too" Wooyoung admitted straddling him.

"Come here–" San hands found their way to Wooyoung's locks pulling him down to another kiss that felt like screaming 'we're together now, that's the only thing that matters'.

And Wooyoung intended to treasure that moment, lips clashing against those of San in a desperate dance motivated to never pause it. But unwillingly he did, mouth opening in a little gasp and head turning when he felt San wet tip press against his loose entrance. He moved, hand replacing that of San on his shaft and guiding him in. The stretch was painful at the beginning, an uncomfortable burning but that soon started to fade turning into a new feeling. Wooyoung hadn't felt that full in months and he moaned when he realized how San was perfect for him in every way. He felt hands worn by innumerable fights find his hips and guiding him up: he moved, swaying his hips slightly while he closed the gap dividing his mouth to his lover's once again. San always kissed him like it was the last time, with passion and desperation, completely loosing himself in that tangle of tongues and dragging Wooyoung with him. His fingers had moved, tracing soft patterns on his back and turning into scratching nails when Wooyoung had lifted his hips to suddenly drop back down and making both of them moan.

"Oh gods–" Wooyoung had gasped, back bending in a perfect arch when San's cock pressed dead on against his most sensitive spot, "Just like that, Sanie" he had begged and as always San obliged.

"You like this, love?" San had whispered biting his ear lobe, hands flying to his ass cheeks spreading them and guiding Wooyoung up and down, slow and so deep.

"Y-yes–" he had unwillingly stammered feeling how his cock twitched and leaked on San stomach, "Make me cum, San-ah! Wanna cum for you" he begged, he couldn't do anything else but beg completely lost at his lover's mercy.

And the answer to that plead was not long in coming: "I will, Youngie! I will make you cum" it sounded more like a grunt that left San's mouth as he turned their bodies never untangling them.

Wooyoung felt his eyes roll to the back of his head when San snapped his hips forward reaching so deep inside that he was sure he had felt him in his stomach. He kept his pace, bucking his hips again and again and again until Wooyoung was sobbing and crying for the overwhelming pleasure, tears escaping the corner of his eyes.

One of San hand left his hip and in that moment Wooyoung realized how strongly he was gripping at it and he wished no marks where left. His worries were quickly forgotten when he felt that same hand collect a tear from his cheek, sweetly brushing it away. An action completely in contrast with the almost like animalistic pace San had set.

"Look at you, such a pretty thing–" he had said, hips smacking into Wooyoung's ass to bounce him roughly up the bedroll.

"'s good, Sanie– s-so good like that! nghf-just like t-that, don't stop please–" his fingers dug into San's shoulders, the knot on his lower half getting tight and his whole body winding with intent to snap when San kept up like he asked him to, pushing his chin up to capture his open mouthed moans with messy, sideways kisses. "Harder–" Wooyoung begged, face hiding in the crook of San's neck as he got ruined from above, San's grip unforgiving on his hips but that was what he needed.

Wooyoung couldn't understand anything anymore, only the great pleasure existed and the man that was making him feel that way, snapping his hips so good and whispering sweet words against his mouth. Wooyoung's noises became higher, breath leaving his lungs in more erratic and quicker puffs, and when San held his legs up, putting them on his shoulders and hitting even deeper he was sure he had screamed.

Head pushed back, hitting the cold solid ground, Wooyoung's body tensed and San could feel it when he came, his sounds cutting off to be replaced with airy, short little gasps as he spasmed around his cock, "Cumming–" he could just gasp before he felt his body release, white liquid splattering between their stomachs ribbon after ribbon.

"Fuck, yes! Cum for me, baby–" San had chanted helping him ride his orgasm before he jumped back, cock slipping out of Wooyoung's still clenching hole. It didn't take much, just two strokes and he was coming too making a mess on Wooyoung's already dirty body. His eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth agape after he had called Wooyoung's name in one last desperate moan.

San had slumped forward, loosing himself between Wooyoung's arms that kept tracing with his fingers the patterns of the tattoos on San's back. It was silent for a while, only the noises of the woods at night to keep them company. But then Wooyoung had moved: he freed his body from the dirty thin blanket, wiping his stomach clean with it and searching for his pants lost somewhere on the ground. He had just finished to tie them up that he felt a hand pulling at the hem at his right ankle.

"Stay–" San didn't realized he had said it until he noticed the sad glance on Wooyoung's face.

He already knew what the answer would be but for one night he allowed himself to be vulnerable, he had to be strong for so long and that night he just felt tired. Tired and madly in love, unable to give up that easily.

"Young-ah, please just for tonight–" he begged again and for a second he thought Wooyoung would say yes.

But he didn't, "You know that I can't, San-ah" his voice sounded sad and defeated but San couldn't help but feel disappointed. He knew he had no right to feel that way but his heart broke a little bit more, unable to take a shot he was supposed to at least expect after all those years.

"If I don't wake up, if I'm late tomorrow, if he comes back and he doesn't find me, we–"

"I know" he was hurting but he knew Wooyoung was too and even if it was the most difficult thing for him he would learn to let him go.

And so he did: his fingers left the hem of the black pants and as expected Wooyoung stepped back.

Don't leave me.

"Can I– Can I at least have one last kiss?" his voice sounded panicking but Wooyoung didn't seem to notice or pretended to not hear it as he leaned back down with a warm smile before he pressed his lips on those of San again.

But like every night that one was coming to an end too.

Before San could even realize it he was alone. Wooyoung running footsteps fading as San listened to them seated on once again cold blankets that held the sour fragrance of a love they were being denied.