TW :: mentions of death and blood

it's funny how idiotically convinced wooyoung has been that things with san will never be the same again.

no, it's not exactly how it once was, not at all. things are drastically different, but there's one exception for now, at the least — san is still the same clingy ball he has always been.

his hands barely leave wooyoung, and if they do, they're on a mission to return somewhere on him in seconds.

san's touch is all wooyoung can ask for when he starts the loathed story he's promised to. it's all he needs to continue, reminding him that this is wholly and completely worth it. being by the boy's side again, wooyoung knows that it is. it just has to be.

their fingers loosely intertwined, wooyoung talks. he talks about yeosang, his one-sided love for him, his utmost jealousy of jongho, but most importantly, the night that scarred their everlasting bond.

despite the blurred shots of bloody glass shards wooyoung relives almost every day of his life, it's hard remembering it all; he's learnt nothing but to bury those memories far away, in the deepest spot possible. but when he wanders for long enough, he soon finds where to dig them up, and it only becomes harder. wooyoung's never known how to endure those images in his head.

but... but maybe he doesn't need to know right now.

because san is here. san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang stumbling into their shared apartment, his words slurred as he rakes his hands all over him.

as much as he hoped for it, wooyoung knew full well they didn't share the same desires as one another. but he gave in, anyway. how could he not after watching from the sidelines as the stupid new boy in town caught yeosang's eye, after being treated like yeosang's disposable shoulder to weep on when things sloped downhill, after witnessing his love fall for someone other than him?

wooyoung didn't know then that kissing his best friend would become one of the most regretful decisions of his life.

san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang finally returning to his sobered senses, muttering about how he just needed something to numb the pain of his and jongho's breakup.

as much as he saw the confession coming, wooyoung was hurt, regardless. he scoffed at first, maybe to shake the heartbreak off, to act like he didn't care, to pretend none of this had even happened. in reality, though, he must've been the strongest version of himself yet for bottling it up the way he did. it didn't even take yeosang a day to read through him, however — nothing is stronger than the seven years they spent together.

wooyoung didn't know then that it could end so fast, so out of his control.

san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang pacing their kitchen, fuming because he's only just now realised his best friend is deeply in love with him.

as much as he knew it was useless, wooyoung tried to get through to yeosang. he'd only ever gotten riled up around him once or twice before, yet those situations were nothing compared to the male yelling at him to stop.

to stop loving him.

how is that possible, yeo? wooyoung wanted to say. but he didn't. he didn't have the words to.

instead he stayed zipped, silent cries breaking through the corners of his lips as yeosang's screams only targeted him louder and louder.

he'd never been so conflicted in his life — why wasn't he allowed to love yeosang?

to this day, wooyoung doesn't know what he could've said or done differently to stop yeosang from leaving.

he was so afraid of losing his best friend, the person who made him whole, who made him himself. the way in which it happened didn't ever cross his mind, however, death was something he never dared to imagine.

so when the screech of tyres caused wooyoung's curled-up figure to flinch, and he crawled over to the window to view the commotion — yeosang sprawled out across the road, bleeding out more blood he'd ever seen, all wooyoung could do was stand there, motionless until the paramedics arrived.

maybe their last words to each other wouldn't have been as bitter if wooyoung had half a working brain.

san is still here when wooyoung's words turn incoherent, and he's crying into his knees. he's still here, slowly guiding wooyoung's head to his chest, softly threading his fingers through wooyoung's hair. he's still here, hushing, reassuring and whispering to wooyoung that it'll be okay.

perhaps on another day, wooyoung would think it to be the most obnoxiously romantic thing imaginable when san's lips lean closer to his ear, starting to murmur a quiet song to him. for him, even.

but he feels so at ease with san's voice, like he's finally caught up to the rest of the world, that he can't hate it. he can't feel any discomfort whilst listening to him.

soon enough, wooyoung is left only hiccuping now and then into san's shirt, sniffling through his runny nose. he can make out the elder's words clearer now, holding onto the fabric of his clothes as he whispers to him, slowly, "forever, you are my star."

san intakes a long breath, and... that's it. disappointment spikes through wooyoung. "that was, like—" he pauses, having to wipe his nose with his sleeve. "—the shortest song i've ever heard."

hand dropping to wooyoung's nape, caressing the skin softly, san chuckles a bit. "sorry, wooyo. it won't stay that way, i just need a second verse." he sighs, disheartened. "takes a little while, y'know?"

"oh." something funny swarms wooyoung's tummy; he doesn't know if it's san's lulling touch or what he's just realised. san just sang one of his songs to him. "...i didn't know you wrote your own stuff, sannie.

"you're also the very first person to know," san says matter-of-factly, and that giddy feeling within wooyoung only intensifies.

"you don't tell people?" wooyoung questions, confused. "not even your friends? that's, like, really cool, though."

"i'm flattered you think so, but it's not that big of a deal. it's just... a way for me to get things out." wooyoung hums in understanding, but before he can add anything onto that, san continues, and the younger can feel him looking down at him when he asks, "how are you feeling now, wooyo? better?"

the question alone causes wooyoung to become conscious of his surroundings again, and he buries his head further into san's chest. "yeah? a-a bit, i think... thank you, sannie."

"a bit is really good still, hm? and you don't need to thank me," san insists, giving wooyoung's neck a small squeeze. it's such a strange act of affection to the younger, and he finds it even stranger how much he cherishes it. "any decent person would help someone they care about when they're not doing so well."

"but it's just... different, now, i don't know," wooyoung mumbles, picking at his fingers with guilt as soon as the words leave his lips.

he senses san feels the same awkwardness, too. "wooyo..." he pauses. "don't worry about that, yeah? i can't even begin to imagine the way you must've felt over the past few weeks, and i— i appreciate it so much that you decided to come back after it all to tell me all of this. you're really one of the strongest people i know, and i swear i'll do everything i can to make things better for you again."

wooyoung bites down on his lip, hard, to keep the tears that've welled up in his eyes in their place. but he may as well have never tried to begin with, because san gently removes both of his hands from each other, and that's all it takes for him to crack once more.

pressing his lips together, internally begging that he make no sound, wooyoung gulps throughout his cries. again, however, his attempts are fucking useless, his entire body trembling with a loud sob.

"hey, hey, wooyo," san rushes out, his muscles tensed up in concern. the tone of his voice is heartbreaking. "it's all okay, remember? you're okay here, i promise." his hands travel to the side of wooyoung's neck. "look here for me, hm?" he asks, keeping his voice low for the latter.

at the delicate way in which san is treating him, wooyoung can't help but obey. his head tilts up towards the elder, facing him for the first time since the gloomy cloud of his past hovering over him has drifted away.

fingertips are quick to glide up to his wet cheeks, thumbs swiftly discarding of his tears. his face in the warmth of san's hold, wooyoung wants to cry all over again. an overwhelming feeling rises in his chest at san's intense, but simultaneously soft, gaze. "it's okay," he's whispering then, and wooyoung manages a feeble nod.

he lifts a hand up to san's shirt, and rubs his fingers against the evident damp spot he left behind, thinking it'd do it justice. "'m sorry, sannie," he mumbles amidst a sniffle.

"that doesn't matter, sweetheart." san shakes his head a bit, eyes crinkling up, emphasising the small smile on his lips. "i couldn't care less, okay? you are my first priority right now."

wooyoung finally meets san's eyes, almost in shock. he doesn't deserve this. "really?" he says. "b-but why? i'm not—"

"but you are," san interrupts him. his fingers run along wooyoung's jaw. "trust me, you are so much more than you think, wooyo. the way i feel about you hasn't changed a single bit. if anything, they... they've only become stronger since the last time."

breath timid in his throat, wooyoung feels a hue of colour dust his features. "i-i—" his fist clenches around san's clothes. the last time. he may not have an iq much above average, but even wooyoung doesn't need the clogs in his brain to work out what that means. "sannie, can we... can we try again?"

his reticent whisper rings through the small distance in between them, and he catches san freeze in time for a brief moment. however, wooyoung's cheek suddenly becomes ticklish beneath the slight movement against it, the hand holding the side of his face securing itself in place.

san shuffles closer. "yeah." wooyoung catches him gulp nervously. "yeah, we can do that," he murmurs.

what? wooyoung nearly slips out. even his own self-control is a surprise to him right now.

almost frantically, wooyoung's spare hand flies to san's shoulder upon the slight, and remarkably attractive, tilt of his head; for the first second, he's afraid his grip on the older boy is worrying. but in the next, the latter's breath caresses the tip of his nose, and wooyoung just has to notice the ridiculous rate of his heartbeat.

san's forehead pressing gently against his own, wooyoung admires in incredulous awe as his eyes flutter shut. he can probably count the number of his lashes right now, the idea itself sending his brain into a wreckage.

san's skin is slightly oily, shimmering ever so prettily beneath the orange of his living room's lights, quite like glitter, wooyoung thinks. his hair, a magpie's black, falls over the sides of his face, and though wooyoung would rather be buried alive than count the millions upon millions of strands, he can make them out one by one, the ones in his vision at least. his upper lip is just noticeably prickled with hairs, too, hairs smaller than specks of dust, and wooyoung wonders if it'd tickle if he grazed his finger over them.

without thinking — or perhaps its cause is him thinking far too much — a giggle passes his teeth at the thought, and san's eyes shoot open.

they blink at him in sheer and utter confusion, eyebrows furrowed, and when wooyoung just laughs some hilariously more, his mouth parts most likely to question whatever the fuck this is about.

yet, the younger takes it upon himself to stop him from doing so, his chin leaping upwards to catch san's lips in between his own.

wooyoung kisses san, long and hard and passionate, with as much force he has in him.

the elder is with him in an impressive second, his soft, thinner lips harmonising carefully with wooyoung's, their shifted melody slow and tender.

silently being pleaded closer, wooyoung lets his body sink into san's inviting arms. they wander up and down him delicately, and wooyoung can only swallow down the butterflies erratically flapping their wings within him. his arms hook around san's neck, whose hands usher him upon his thighs, and perhaps their skill is something they collectively need to work on because their teeth clash in an unfortunate accident, popping the dazed cloud they found themselves lost in.

neither of them are much bothered by it, though. simply existing like this, feeling like this, laughing like this with each other is all they both can possibly want right now.

"what was that?" wooyoung exclaims through childish hysterics, his head falling onto san's shoulder.

"me? how is that fair — i didn't do anything." san dismisses the blame with a scoff. he finds himself grinning, nonetheless.

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a/n: my first kiss chapters r literally never that good lack of experience is fucking hostile. also the way this ended is rly awkward but we don't talk ab it! just imagine smth else idk 😓