san is having a really good day today.

he doesn't have good days very often. and if he does, like right now, say, it's a massively rare occurrence. something always seems to go wrong, no matter the occasion, whether it be at home or at school. it's almost a routine, a must in san's life.

but today? today, san is certain nothing could possibly tarnish his day. absolutely nothing. not when wooyoung is by his side, their shoulders accidentally nudging now and again, as they head to seonghwa's place.

oh, yeah — san is taking wooyoung to meet seonghwa today!

to be completely fair and honest with himself, san hasn't yet thought this through properly. or at all, it could very well be argued. perhaps out of apprehension and fear. but, ultimately, when wooyoung accompanied san at lunch again, asked if he had any plans, then proceeded to inquire if he could tag along, san knew there wasn't any way he could say no to him.

he wonders if that's how everyone in wooyoung's life feels about the boy.

back to the chase — apprehension and fear. yeah, not the most glorious of feelings.

san can't imagine either wooyoung or seonghwa choosing to pick a fight with the other; wooyoung seems incredibly excited about the invitation, the opportunity to make yet another friend having him bouncing on his feet, and san thinks he knows seonghwa well enough to decide that his heart is too golden to engage in anything hateful, even if they show up at his place unannounced. on top of that, san runs his mouth so amazingly much about his friend to seonghwa that, if anything, he should be just as thrilled as wooyoung is.

something, however, something pesky and irritating mauling at the walls of san's mind is fully committed to convince him to believe that wooyoung and seonghwa will just not get along. that the most important people in his life will end up loathing each other, and he'll eventually be stuck to choose between the two. choose between his star and his moon.

san really, really wouldn't like to do that. not in this life or the next.

san's steps slow down as they reach seonghwa's store, somewhat uncertainly. while he breathes a sigh of relief at the sign labelled closed dangling from the entrance, wooyoung gasps, marvelling at the chic exterior.

the sincerity of the sound courses an intense feeling of pride through san, for his older cousin, this almost smug kind. seonghwa has quite an eye for all things pretty, naturally so. whilst in high school, the boy was ineffably passionate in design and textiles, and for as long as san remembers he'd been aspiring for a university course in the department. that was, before he had to drop out.

"woah! is this it?" wooyoung exclaims, head tilted up at the purple-bluish banner. he reads it aloud, a quiet murmur to himself, "cloud nine."

nodding yes, san bites anxiously at the flesh of his lip.

"it's so pretty, sannie," wooyoung says, gleaming. he sounds like he means it, too.

san gulps awkwardly. "yeah."

he doesn't know what wooyoung is expecting, but what he does know is that seonghwa's... goods, for lack of a better word, couldn't possibly align with his predictions: that is simply a given.

the thought trails an unsettling rush of nerves over san.

nonetheless, he smiles at wooyoung, lips forming a tight curve between his pair of dimples. just because he feels like he should, something in his head compelling him to, like it might make things pan out just a bit better. it probably won't.

san pushes open the glass door to seonghwa's store, fingernails clawing into the skin of his palms. he senses wooyoung follow him, the faint heel of his footsteps echoing against the quiet walls, quietness which san feels drown him beneath its frightening depths. he battles off his temptation to glance back at wooyoung, garner his reaction on the columns of vape and edibles and cigarettes oriented upon shelves and cabinets, the suffocating smell of cannabis.

it's surprisingly easier than san thinks it'd be, thanks to seonghwa spinning on his heels from behind the counter. a ring of smoke wafts out of his lips.

"sanshine!" he sings, grinning delightfully. strands of baby pink hair fall over his eyes, and a thick khaki cardigan is draped over his shoulders. seonghwa opens his mouth to continue, though it quickly turns into a small, surprised gape as his eyes trail over to san's right.

still, san refuses to turn to wooyoung. all he can do is hope he isn't moments away from calling the cops on them.

brows perking up, seonghwa scans over wooyoung. almost judging. all of a sudden, and even making san's startled heart jump, he gasps aloud. "you— you're wooyoung! aren't you?"

"uh—" the mere, uncertain mumble tugs at san's gaze, and, just like that, he's broken his oath to himself: instinctually, at the sound of wooyoung's voice, san's body completely turns in his direction. absentmindedly, he steps forward.

"yeah," wooyoung answers, confusion slabbed over his sweet tone. "but how do you... know that?"

"how do i know that?" seonghwa repeats, incredulous. it's almost an exclamation, followed with his breathy laughter. internally cursing the older boy, san averts his gaze to the floor in humiliation, his feet shuffling about bashfully as seonghwa nears them. he would really like to smack the roguish grin off seonghwa's mouth right about now. it only widens, however, when he wilfully responds, "all i'll say is i've heard a lot of things about you."

wooyoung blinks at seonghwa. a fiery hue of red rises to his cheeks. "oh." momentarily, he locks eyes with san. "erm— well, i'm hoping those things are... good?"

seonghwa snorts. "good?" he snickers. "san speaks  about you as if you're—"

"seonghwa!" finally, san comes to his own defense. he is not, never, letting seonghwa out of everyone embarrass him like this. considering the countless unspeakable things san has witnessed him do over the years, that would just be another kind of low.

in response to san's whinging, seonghwa's laughter softens, quietens a bit. it's then san notices that wooyoung is chuckling, too.

seonghwa leans down, and ruffles his head. "sorry, sanshine." he doesn't mean it, but the affection is the sincerest it gets — of course san forgives him. seonghwa is smiling when he turns away, returning to his spot behind the till. he flicks through paper bills, organising them into different piles, as he was doing before he was interrupted by the pair of teens barging into his place without any notice.

"how are you doing, wooyoung?"

taken aback, wooyoung's eyes widen. meanwhile, san just smiles happily. there's definitely room for things to be a little less awkward, but things are going a lot better than that stupid voice was telling him.

he can't remember why he thought to listen to it in the first place.

"i'm— i'm good." wooyoung smiles slowly, comprehending that seonghwa's question is entirely genuine and not just a callous joke. possibly due to experience, san understands why wooyoung might think that way. "yeah. sannie n' i had lunch together today, actually!" he says, and he jumps up in his spot. like he's about to burst. "again. and— and it was really fun!"

san grins; he can't help it. wooyoung is right, it was really fun. it always is, san has recognised, when he's with wooyoung.

the smile growing upon seonghwa's lips as wooyoung rambles on is so purely sincere that san would've rushed up to him with outstretched arms if it weren't for wooyoung's presence directly beside him. he can save it for later — san doesn't want wooyoung to feel secluded or left out in any way.

"you're really sweet, wooyoung," seonghwa comments. "exactly how san described you."

san's eyes quickly narrow at seonghwa, the epitome of betrayal. "fuck you."

in hindsight, san is glad he refrained from giving seonghwa that hug, after all.

a floaty giggle meets san's ears, and for a reason he can't discern, his cheeks flush. he presumes it's just the cause of his embarrassment. as simple as that.

"really?" wooyoung preens, sounding particularly pleased. "you've gotten me curious now, seonghwa — what kind of things has sannie been saying about me?"

everything, san's head pipes up.

in spite of the sheer honesty, san scowls at the witty remark, anyway.

"i don't think i should say, unfortunately. he might not be too happy with me."

wooyoung laughs, his signature round of squeaks.

"you guys are evil." san pouts without realising. "pure evil."

wooyoung leans forward in san's face, probably to be annoying. yet, he spontaneously pokes san's cheek with his index finger, where one of his dimples usually lays. turns out, he had an ulterior motive. "whatever can i do, sannie," wooyoung sings, and reasons, as if it's the most normal and civilised thing ever, "you're just too cute when you're being teased."

the leap of san's heart is anything but normal or civilised.

san's lips deepen into a frown. though, in reality, it only comes with the flustered heat of his ears he can't seem to control. "not cute," he mumbles.

"yes, cute."

"'m not cute. you just think i am."

"yeah, and i'm righ—"

a melody trills, high-pitched yet monotone, intervening the persistence of wooyoung's voice.

san swears he's heard it somewhere before, but he can't exactly pinpoint where from — not until wooyoung rolls his eyes in annoyance, and digs his cellphone out from his pocket.

right. wooyoung has a phone. of course, he does, san has to remind himself. he's an average seventeen-year-old. they all do.

the look on wooyoung's face as he reads the screen before him is a mixture of many things: surprise, confusion, concern. but when he looks up at san, their gazes aligning, his expression turns apologetic. "sorry, san. can i—"

"yeah," san answers before wooyoung finishes. he nods reassuringly, telling wooyoung that it's okay. "yeah, of course, wooyoung. don't be sorry. you should answer. it might be something important."

wooyoung smiles at san, which makes him wonder by the instant frown replacing his expression as he turns away to answer the continual ringing, whether he's just faking it. san feels horribly invasive when he keeps his ears perked, concentrating on the tiles of the floor in an attempt to eavesdrop on wooyoung's conversation. guilt prickles at his insides like the thorns of a rose, yet he can't seem to subdue his worry.

despite san's focused efforts, the incomprehensible mumbles from behind him don't hold any cure to the nauseous weight in his stomach. and so he waits, silently impatient, for wooyoung to be done and tell him everything is alright.

it has to be. san wouldn't know what to do with himself otherwise.

his foot bounces against the ground anxiously, and he hates it. he hates how he's so scared for someone who doesn't even know him — the real him. he hates how badly he wishes he could change that.

"san." wooyoung has suddenly returned within san's view, and his breath hitches in his throat at the look afflicted across the latter's face. wooyoung looks, and sounds, frantic. upset. "i'm sorry, but— but i really need to— my mom — she's not—"

as if he'll never get the chance to again, san grabs onto wooyoung's hand. he's scaring him. the gesture slows wooyoung down momentarily, and he gazes down at their clasped fingers, the emotion in his eyes unreadable.

"it's okay," san assures, and he doesn't mean for it to leave his mouth as the whisper it does. it's somewhat embarrassing, but he shoves that thought to the side. "do you need to see her?"

wooyoung nods, barely. "she's having a migraine." he's quiet. "it's just— they can get pretty bad sometimes. so."

"oh." against his conscious will, san frowns. he likes wooyoung's mother; they've only met once, but she's immensely kind and caring. her cooking is phenomenal, too. san wants her to be okay. "you should go, then, wooyoung," he insists.

"yeah." wooyoung breathes, long. "can i..."

"hm?"

for a moment, wooyoung just looks at san. he looks at him timidly, which san has never seen from him before. it makes him intertwine their fingers, in hope to give wooyoung some sort of confidence, and he reckons it might have worked considering the small step he undergoes, before wrapping san in his arms.

oh.

in result, san freezes briefly. he hasn't gotten completely used to this yet. but in just seconds, he composes himself, his inner panic, and embraces wooyoung's shoulders with the padding of his palms. "it's— it's okay, wooyoung," san repeats. he isn't sure if that's what wooyoung wants to hear right now, but it's the only source of comfort he's got. asides from the tender squeeze he finds himself giving wooyoung's frame. "she'll be okay."

wooyoung hums, the noise lacking his usual beaming joy. "thanks, sannie," he murmurs dimly.

san is shaking his head as wooyoung detaches his arms from him. "don't," he tells him, stroking his fingers against wooyoung's wrist. "take care. please."

"yeah." wooyoung nods, smiles. "i'll see you monday?"

"alright. monday."

slipping out of san's lingering hold, wooyoung waves a quick goodbye to seonghwa, and leaves. san's gaze only gives up trailing after him once he's fully out of sight.

he doesn't know why. he just feels like he has to.

"wow. melodramatic."

san snaps his head to seonghwa. he almost forgot he was there. san would have been annoyed, too, at his remark, if it wasn't for the sorriness hugging his features.

"c'mere," seonghwa urges softly, a hand gesturing san close.

san would be a fool not to. immediately, he beelines for the space between seonghwa's arms, cheek resting against his chest. he sighs in seonghwa's warmth, who strokes a hand of fingers through his overgrown hair.

"are you okay?"

"yeah," san mumbles. a lie. but seonghwa already knows that, so it doesn't matter all so much. "i dunno. just... don't like him sad."

"i figured, yeah. there's nothing you can do about it, though, sanshine. his mom's not well, it's inevitable for him to feel like this," seonghwa says, fingertips pressing relieving circles into san's scalp.

"i know. but still. 's not nice."

a fond chuckle passes through seonghwa's throat. "you seem to like him a lot."

san presses himself further into seonghwa. "well," he utters, scrambling for a deflective response. "he's— he's my friend. i can't hate him, now, can i? y—you— you like him, too, hwa. everyone does. it's impossible not t—"

"you know what i mean, sannie."

eyes squeezing shut, san clenches a fist around the hem of his sleeve. if there's one thing he doesn't like about seonghwa, it's his assiduity — with time, being a long and eventful seventeen years, he's learnt to read san like an open book. ordinarily, this would be more of a positive than anything, for san has never needed to directly lay out his thoughts for seonghwa to understand how he's feeling, he'll sort of just know.

sometimes, however, san wishes this wasn't always the case.

san wishes he could coward away from his feelings, san wishes he could simply ignore them.

as long as seonghwa is looking out for him, that's just plain impossible.

"san? sanshine?"

"why does it have to be this way, seonghwa?" asks san, disjointed in product of the excruciating crack of his voice. "why—"

"san."

"—am i like this?"

san's breath shudders, trembles, through a frustrated cry. he feels seonghwa's arms wrap him in tighter, and he feels seonghwa's fingers fall to his back, where he caresses his muscles. he feels seonghwa whisper to him.

because as long as seonghwa is looking out for him, there's someone out there who accepts him.

"there's nothing wrong with you, sannie. nothing at all. just because they say that there is, doesn't mean they're right. they aren't the kind of people you should be listening to — you know this, hm?"

san sobs. he pleads for it to stop because it's hurting his throat, but it refuses to comply. he just becomes louder and weaker, tears soaking through seonghwa's cardigan. "hwa..."

"i know," seonghwa tells him, pitiful. because he does. he's the only person who does. "i won't tell you it's easy — it's not. but it is okay, san. whether they tell you otherwise doesn't matter, because i'm telling you that it is. and i want you to listen to me." he draws san back from his embrace, and holds the sides of his teary face between his palms. "i need you to listen to me."

san nods his head profusely. his face is smeared in snot and he can taste his tears, but he'll listen. he'll do anything to make the nauseatingly remorseful feeling in his chest disappear.

"y'know, sometimes..." seonghwa smiles, halfheartedly and bitterly. it only intensifies the ache within san, and he almost doesn't want to hear it anymore. "sometimes, i overhear some of dad's friends talk about me. it's funny, 'cause a lot of them are regulars here. but of course, they don't recognise me. it has been a while."

"what... about them?" san whispers nervously.

sleeves gently padding against san's cheeks, seonghwa's voice quietens. "some of them... some of them still refer to me as mr park's daughter. either they aren't aware or they think their ignorance is acceptable, but—"

"i'm sorry, hwa."

"san, that's not the point. regardless of how those bastards perceive me, they don't have the influence on my identity that they might think they do." the gleam in seonghwa's eyes is intense, passionate. san is mesmerised. "nothing they say, no matter how frustrating or obnoxious, will change the person i am. it can make me upset, it can make me angry, but it won't ever change me."

"and you want me to... feel the same way? don't you?"

seonghwa sighs sadly, but smiles nonetheless. "i promise to help you get there one day yeah. even if it's the last thing i do."

a tear, then two, then three, trickles down san's cheeks. he sniffs, and nods, voice breaking, "okay."

"okay. there's this saying, actually. that i think you could do with hearing." seonghwa brings san close again, tucks the top of the boy's head beneath his chin. "be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

"those who matter don't mind," san repeats after a while, a delicate murmur upon registering the words. he likes the sound of it. "who said that?"

"dr seuss."

"dr seuss?"

"dr seuss," seonghwa confirms through a soft laugh. "he's one wise man."

"yeah, well, so are you." eyes falling shut, san exhales comfortably. the exhausting weight in his chest has eased just the smallest bit, and he only has one person to thank. "love you, hwa."

"i love you, too, sannie."

———

a/n: sanhwa my dearest i cry

also that quote means the absolute world and all the planets and stars to me 🥲🥲 my school's (ex)librarian used to always say it whenever i wasn't feeling well, she helped me so so fucking much w accepting n loving my sexuality but she left before summer started oh how i miss her </3

thank u very very much for 1k btw omg????? huge numbers fucking petrifying but thank u wow ily