cw: mentions of body image issues

* * *

« it's funny that
others recognize me
when i can't even
recognize myself »

Wooyoung has never liked the way he looks.

But most people didn't as well, so that didn't make him special or worthy of any sort of attention.

Everyone had something they hated about themselves, from their weight, to the shape of their eyes, to their lips, acne scars and even the length of their jaw. That's why cosmetic surgery was a thing and why the beauty industry was a multi-billion dollar one, but Wooyoung hadn't been that intolerant of his looks to feel like he had to go under the knife to change them.

He just...sometimes wished he could look different, wished he could look better, wished he could look the way he wanted. Wished, wished, wished.

His mother had always been slim, with a youthful face and cheeks dipping with deep, unique dimples whenever she smiled or laughed out loud. She kept her makeup natural and her hair just shy of her shoulders, dyeing the ends many times into whatever colour she felt like having at the moment. She just loved experimenting with her looks, but that didn't count when it came to Wooyoung's clashing eye colours.

She also loved taking pictures, especially whenever she got all dolled up or attended high-end events, but it was only of herself or including Wooyoung's father at the time, but never him.

And Wooyoung's father was a tall, sturdy man with immaculate bone structure and a gravelly voice that drew eyes to him and commanded respect. He was well-built too, and whenever he wasn't chasing after women he would be often seen at the local gym, staying in shape.

He was obsessed with having a good body image, and never ceased to remind Wooyoung just how inferior he was compared to him in that department.

Wooyoung, at a certain point, envied the both of his parents. He envied his mother's pretty dimples and her soft features, and envied his father's height and charismatic, sociable personality. He wanted what they had, because he knew he just wasn't enough.

As Wooyoung grew, he became more and more aware of how lacking he was in comparison to his parents.

First, it was his eyes, and the way they kept drawing negative attention wherever he went. Then, he didn't like his nose, and how prominent and out of place he felt it looked on his face. Then, he took notice of how short he was when he thought of his other male classmates, and how their heights seemed to skyrocket once they hit puberty.

Then, there was the way his metabolism slowed down once he became a teenager, causing him to pay more attention to what he wore and ate. Sometimes, he'd stare at himself in the mirror and poke at the small stubborn pudge that'd developed on his tummy, wishing he had a wand so he could just wave it all away with a little bit of magic. But he didn't go to Hogwarts, and magic didn't exist in his world.

"I see you watching that ice cream shop across the street. You want some?"

"Um, well...yeah..."

"Speak up, son. I can't hear you."

"I want some ice cream, dad."

"You shouldn't. You should run more instead, and gain muscles. That's what the girls your age are into these days. Don't you want a girlfriend?"

"I-I guess."

"Then you have to lose weight, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung shakily inhales a lungful of the frosty air, and like a newborn, feels his heart begin to start again. He isn't walking down the road with his dad, but is now at the door of a room holding a jacuzzi he'd never known existed, spotting none other than Choi San submerged almost completely in it.

The room is brick layered, beaming a gloomy, ominous red, and coupled with a few candles here and there that flicker a bright orange, adding to the room's sensual atmosphere.

San is totally unaware of his presence, picking and bursting through the thick bubbles that gather around his shoulders and arms to hide what's underneath, and Wooyoung assures himself over and over again that he isn't a creep just because he's watching the older man take a bath. He really isn't.

He'd arrived at the mansion a few minutes earlier after he finished his classes, soon noticing how dark and silent everything was with no sign of San anywhere. Naturally, he'd assumed the worst and began searching through all the rooms he could find for the man, just to spot him here.

San leans back right then. His dark hair is damp, and the candles bathe his entire face in warm yellow. His skin is like sunset, gold swirling with the brown of his eyes.

He looks up without a moment's notice. Wooyoung's heart nearly bursts.

San reacts, moving so quickly it sends bits of foamy bubbles flying. "Wooyoung?"

Wooyoung turns to leave, ears red hot. "I -- I'm sorry -- "

"What are you doing here?" San's voice sounds strained, even without Wooyoung looking at his expression. "Why are you here?"

"I just -- I didn't see you and I -- " Wooyoung freezes, casting San a sidelong glance. He must've imagined it, but San sinks a little lower into the jacuzzi. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

San's eyes are big, alight with alarm and something else. Seeing him look so frazzled has Wooyoung reeling with guilt, even when he knows it's not any of his business, and that he shouldn't care this much for someone he barely knows.

"I really didn't mean to barge in like that," Wooyoung continues to explain. Now, his neck burns just as much as his ears. "I never meant to invade your privacy or ruin your bath. I just...I didn't see you anywhere and -- and I... yeah."

San stares at him for a second, and then he laughs. It's over the top and high-pitched, enunciating how fake and forced it is. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I should've told you something earlier so this awkward situation wouldn't have happened. I'm sometimes dumb like that, ha ha. I just, uhm, I'm not that...comfortable showing myself? Yeah. Sorry about that."

As if to prove his point, he retreats further into the heated bathtub, the frothy bubbles now grazing his chin.

"Oh. Oh -- sorry," Wooyoung clears his throat. The sudden urge to leave is too high to resist. He turns his back to San, heading towards the door.

"Wait!"

Wooyoung pauses, something in him prompting him to turn back around. "Yeah?"

An unusual, timid smile is plastered across San's face. His hands poke and play with the bubbles, and he even blows one of them.

"Well, I made this place by myself. Decorated it, that is." San gestures excitedly at the glowing candles and the small rosy petals Wooyoung has now noticed floating over the surface of the tub. "I was wondering if...if it's okay?"

Wooyoung thinks it's more than okay, actually. He's just baffled as to why Choi San, a man who has everything, would ask for his input when he's nothing compared to him. "Why do you need my opinion?"

"Just 'cause." San bursts a particularly large bubble, his golden-hued face breaking out into a large grin at the feat.

Exponentially distracted, Wooyoung lets out the first thing he thinks right then.

"It's beautiful."

San stops looking at the bubbles, and his smile slowly fades away, eyes softening. "What?"

"It's really beautiful," Wooyoung obtains a little more courage, even enough to look San in the eye. "Everything is."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

San averts his eyes, shyly smiling to himself. He proceeds to wriggle his fingers, admiring them. "Hmm, well, I already knew that, but thanks."

"Sure, no problem." All the bravery Wooyoung manifested vanishes at that moment. He rubs his clammy palms down his sweater. San makes it worse even if he's just staring at the bubbles, grinning. "I'll uh, get going then."

San stares at him, waving at him in 'tiny'. "Okay."

Wooyoung launches out of the room, heart in his throat and speeding thoughts overtaking his mind. What the fuck just happened? He doesn't have a single clue.

He plops himself on the sofa and waits, too lazy to switch on the room's lights (he tried the clapping thing and it didn't work). Before he knows it, he starts thinking of his and San's encounter at the tub, how the older man's face shone when he talked and smiled, and his dimples.

Hi, lovely. Wooyoung suddenly remembers the way Hongjoong referred to San when they first met, and it makes him want to scream.

"Stop it," he tells himself.

"Stop what?"

Wooyoung jumps, almost tumbling off the couch. Behind him, there's rigorous cackling.

"This is so fun. I should scare you again sometime."

Wooyoung turns to see San clap, and then all the bulbs flicker on, illuminating the exquisite sitting room as well as the dressing gown San's donned in.

It's cotton soft, and turquoise, exposing just the dip of San's collarbones. Wooyoung feels his chest squeeze, and he hates it because he doesn't know why he feels that way.

"Sorry I took so long, but it was the most enjoyable bath I've taken in a while," San's saying, exhaling a satisfied breath. "Whoo, I feel really good."

Wooyoung cracks a chuckle at that, despite himself. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" San grins at him, tilting his head. "I feel very fine. Happy, actually."

"I'm glad you are." Wooyoung tugs at his sweater sleeves. 'Cause I'm not. I'm really fucking nervous for whatever reason, and it's fucking frustrating.

"Mingi won't be coming tonight, although I'm sure you had a hunch due to how dark it was when you came back from your classes," San explains, leisurely pacing around the room. "Sigh. It's not his fault though, his schedule's incredibly packed starting from today."

Wooyoung's eyes run down his body before he can restrain them. He takes in the older's wide shoulders, and his surprisingly small, slim waist.

San immediately spins around, nearly catching Wooyoung right in the act. He's still smiling, and Wooyoung isn't used to it, because it keeps filling his chest with this weird type of warmth.

"I think we should order out."

"What about cooking the food ourselves?" Wooyoung regrets the suggestion as soon as it leaves his mouth, but San has already made his way over to him, a big smile on his face.

"Oh my god, why didn't I think of that?" San laughs, and then nudges Wooyoung on the arm for no apparent reason. "I'll have to warn you, though. I suck real bad at cooking."

"You're seriously agreeing? But Mingi said -- " Wooyoung stops, cheeks flaming up.

San's eyes narrow. "Mingi said what?"

"He said you only allow him to cook homemade food for you."

San smiles a little at that. "Oh, right. I guess I can make an exception for you."

"Okay."

"Yeah." San snaps his fingers, face lighting up. "Oh! I almost forgot. I'll bring the aprons. It's gonna be awesome."

"Not if we burn down the house first."

"With our insane cooking skills, you mean."

They both laugh at that, and San excuses himself while Wooyoung heads into the kitchen, once more struck by how refined and professional everything looks.

He lightly runs his fingers over the silver counter, lost in thought until San shows up with a bunch of aprons in his arms.

"They've been there for a while since Mingi rarely ever uses them," the CEO explains. He passes one of them to Wooyoung, and as soon as Wooyoung opens it up, he barks out laughing.

"Really?" Wooyoung purses his lips at the black apron, which has defined, realistic looking abs printed on it.

"What? I thought it looked funny." San can't stop laughing. He leans closer. "I wanna see you wear it."

Wooyoung doesn't know if San is joking or not, but he knows he doesn't want to wear it. Not when he stares at the picture and gets reminded of all the times his father reprimanded him for 'eating too much'.

"I don't want it."

San's brows furrow. "Why?"

Wooyoung knows his reasoning for not wanting to wear that apron is dumb -- and extremely childish -- and he's probably sure San would think the same if he knew. He wants to lie, but San's eyes are sincere, caring. At that moment, he doesn't look like someone who'd tear him apart just because of how he felt.

"I'm not...muscular or anything," Wooyoung admits after a while. "Seeing it kinda makes me feel a whole lot worse about myself."

"Oh." It's hard to tell what San's thoughts are about his words, but it doesn't matter, because his next actions soon make it clear. He takes the apron, scrunches it up, and tosses it elsewhere before Wooyoung can count to three.

Wooyoung blinks, flabbergasted. "Hey, I didn't mean to throw it away -- "

"Nah. It's old anyway. I think I'd like this one more on you," San answers, pulling out a pale blue apron with tiny heads of grumpy looking cats splattered all over it.

"Why are your aprons so weird? Where the hell did you get them?" Wooyoung comments with a soft chuckle. A part of him feels relieved, and a little touched due to what San had done. He won't ever admit it out loud, though.

San winks, and Wooyoung's heart rate picks up. "That's a secret."

Wooyoung clears his throat. "Okay. So, uh, where were we?"

"We're cooking. But first," San steps behind Wooyoung without a moment's notice, and the younger man stops breathing just as he feels San's hands on his neck, "let's get you all tied up, shall we?"

"That sounds weird."

"I think 'weird' has got to be your favourite word, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung feels San breathing on his back, and his body straightens as San's hands inch down his sides to wrap the apron around his waist. Chills descend down his spine as San tightly tugs the strings into a little bow.

"That's it," San comments, voice right next to Wooyoung's ear. "Now you're ready."

Wooyoung steps away, hands trembling. He wrings them together, feeling like he'd just ran a marathon. "Yeah. Uh, what about yours?"

San takes a purple one with yellow polka dots, which would've looked a little more normal if not for the cartoon baby dragon plastered on the middle of it. Why the hell is it there? Wooyoung has no idea.

"Put them on for me?" San asks, his hands on his hips. Wooyoung's eyes notice the slimness of his waist again, and he coughs, much harsher this time.

"Nope, sorry. Need to look for recipes."

"Meanie." San pouts, but he isn't offended. He hands his phone to Wooyoung, just like that, and the younger has to (embarrassingly) struggle a bit before he gets a hang of the device.

In the middle of Wooyoung's search, San speaks up. "Hey, I just realized something."

"What?"

"I realized that sometimes I'd need to call you in advance in case anything changes in the house -- like tonight." San leans on the counter, head on his palm as he watches Wooyoung. "But then I remembered I don't have your number."

"Oh. I thought Hongjoong hyung gave it to you already."

"Yep he did," San grins, happy to have caught Wooyoung off-guard. "But I'm gonna get you a new phone."

Wooyoung stops typing, stares at San. "What?"

"Don't you want a new phone? I wanna be able to send you whatever, and that one you have now isn't cutting it," San answers. It's obvious he thinks it's the best idea ever, with the way he can barely contain his enthusiasm.

"...Oh." Wooyoung scratches the back of his ear, not knowing how to feel. "I don't know."

"Come ooonn," San pleads. "I'll even get you whichever brand you want -- even the latest iPhone. I seriously don't care when it comes to you. And, I mean, you are getting paid to live with me, after all. Might as well look it."

Wooyoung's jaw tenses, wincing at San's words. It's like a slap of reality, snapping him out of the euphoria he'd previously felt. Right. He's only here because he's supposed to be babysitting Choi San. How could he have forgotten so easily?

"Are you okay?" San asks, concern apparent on his face.

"Yeah," Wooyoung lies. "I just -- I don't think you should spend your money on me. I'm already living with you. It's more than enough."

"Aren't we friends?" San's eyes glimmer with hope. "I want to spend my money on you."

That sounds even worse. Wooyoung hates the way it makes him feel; like he's worthless and pathetic.

"Let's try japchae," he changes the subject, hoping San falls for it. "I'm feeling for japchae."

San looks at him for a few nervewrecking moments, before he frowns in distaste. "But I don't like vegetables, though."

"Vegetables are healthy. So suck it up you big baby," Wooyoung argues, smiling when he hears San's overdramatic gasp.

"I'm not a big baby."

"What about when you're in -- " Wooyoung halts, and finishes in a much smaller voice, "...little space?"

San lightly shoves his shoulder, but his smile is bit stiff. "You don't need to be so scared to say it. It's not a taboo."

"I don't think it is. I just...thought you'd find offense to it."

"Well I don't." San leans in, smelling like milk and honey, only to walk past a rigid Wooyoung and grab an apple on the fruit basket. "Appetizer," he explains.

Wooyoung swallows thickly, busying himself with opening the cupboards to take out the ingredients. "So, japchae it is then?"

"I'm only eating it because of you," San replies, begrudgingly agreeing.

"I'll hold you to that promise. You have to eat it all even if it ends up tasting like crap," Wooyoung warns. San's words still ring in his ear, as well as what he's truly here for, but right now, he doesn't want to think about it. "Okay?"

San nods. "Okay."

A meal that isn't supposed to take that long to make ends up taking both men much longer, and Wooyoung swears it's because of San.

The older likes to taste a lot of things, Wooyoung realized.

As Wooyoung set up the potato starch noodles, sprinkled in the seasoning, and made the rice, there San was, hovering around him just to taste some of it before he got caught. He even nibbled on one of the vegetables Wooyoung had chopped up, only for his face to twist in disgust afterwards.

And it was highly distracting, and still is, because Wooyoung actually wants to do a good job on the japchae. But the way San keeps standing so close to him, keeps eating everything and touching him is driving him crazy, and not in the good way.

"I think the japchae's ready, no?" San says when Wooyoung stirs up everything in the pot after managing to successfully complete everything despite San being, well, San. "I wanna see how it tastes."

"We gotta serve it on plates first," Wooyoung answers, but San's already taking a forkful of japchae. Instead of eating it like Wooyoung had expected, San moves closer to him, blowing gently on the noodles.

"You should have the first taste of it. You did the most work after all," San tells him, holding the fork to Wooyoung's lips.

"Yeah. And hyung was there eating everything -- " Wooyoung shuts his mouth, but the damage has already been done.

"Hyung," San repeats. Something playful yet ardent flutters in his eyes. "I'm a 'hyung' to you now, huh?"

Wooyoung bites off the forkful of japchae and dodges all of San's attempts at teasing him. He's in a much better mood now than before, that's for sure. Maybe it's the delicious taste of the japchae he made that did it.

He tries to ignore the fervid feeling he gets in his chest when he sees San sneakily gobble some japchae out of the same fork.

Dinner goes by much smoother than Wooyoung expected. San is well-behaved -- for the most part, until he makes an angry face out of stringy noodles and scallops and names it Mr Nag Nag. Aka Jung Wooyoung.

And sometimes, as they chat about whatever, Wooyoung can feel San's gaze lingering on his face, specifically his eyes, but he never speaks up or acknowledges it. He isn't in the mood to, and doesn't think he ever will be.

* * *

The next day during his communications course, Wooyoung feels his phone vibrate with a new message.

Already hidden in the back of the lecture hall, he pulls the phone out to check.

- mr choi

- mr choi
i'm boreedd
hey, where are u??

Wooyoung nearly drops his phone.

- wooyoung
i'm in class san

- wooyoung
and ????
why the feet pic??

- mr choi
so no more hyung now 😖

- wooyoung
you didn't answer my question

- mr choi
i felt cute 🥺

Wooyoung tries, but fails, to calm himself down.

- wooyoung
feet pics are so weirddd tho
i don't like them

- mr choi

- mr choi
do you prefer this instead?

Wooyoung covers his phone before any of the other students can see anything.

- mr choi
its not that new,,
you'll get much better ones when you finally allow hyung to get you a new phone 😌

- wooyoung
oh my god
you aren't gonna let it go, are you

- mr choi
noppee

- wooyoung
i dont need a new phone

- mr choi
accept hyung's lovee

Wooyoung scoffs out loud, skin flushing with embarrassment when he feels a few stares on him.

- wooyoung
i gotta go dude

- mr choi
oof
now i'm being dude-zoned

- wooyoung
idc

- mr choi
when's your birthday?

- wooyoung
???
why?

- mr choi
its november 26, right?

- wooyoung
why'd you ask if you already knew?

- mr choi
so i know i'm actually right

- wooyoung
woooww

- mr choi
yes, wow

- mr choi
happy birthday in advance, mr nag nag🥳
see you after classes

Wooyoung cracks a small smile at that. San doesn't know, but this is his first time being wished a happy birthday in a while.

- wooyoung
goodbye sir👋🏼👋🏼

- mr choi
wooyoung 😑

Wooyoung grins and pockets his phone, going back to listening to the professor.

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a/n: thoughts?