* * *

« at the end of the day
you're the one who stays »

Wooyoung's still in disbelief over how any of this is real. But who can blame him? In just five hours, he's no longer in Seoul but instead in Jeju Island, stepping into a private residence that looks more like a ball room, with none other than San right next to him, the man stepping into the house with ease.

"Earth to Wooyoung?" San speaks, his and the younger's suitcase in his hold. The floor, just like rest of the interior, is polished, appearing like it's been speckled with gold dust. "I feel like you're buffering."

Wooyoung can't really pay attention, not when he's reminded of the best gift he got as a kid from his parents. It was a snow globe, but it was the prettiest one he'd ever seen. He'd loved it so much, and kept with him in his room to stare at when times got rough. He can still recall the moment he stepped into his house to see it shattering against the wall, his father the perpetrator as a result of the fight he'd been having with his mother.

"Get out of here, you son of a bitch!"

"If I can't live here in this house anymore, then whatever I bought with my money will be destroyed!"

"...Hey, Wooyoung?" San's voice pulls said male back into the present, and just like that, his parents' furious words fade away, now replaced with San's tender brown eyes.

The older man waves a hand across Wooyoung's face, a teasing smile ceasing his lips. "Earth to Woo? You like this place that much? You're kinda zoning out."

"Ah, sorry," Wooyoung clears his throat. His eyes run over the house's decor once again, and just like before, he becomes awestruck. This is only the livingroom, yet he feels as though he's stepped into another dimension entirely. Where San's house back in Seoul is exceedingly large yet homely, this place looks like a elegant hotel suite just for two. It's quite... intimate.

"Is this place to your fancy?" San questions, already having taken off his shoes to put on house slippers.

"You sound older than twenty-five," Wooyoung jokes to ease the slight nervousness that now grips him.

"I do not. I look fresh out of high school," San argues, but he's laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners. He's also totally unaware of Wooyoung staring at him while he does.

"That'll be super weird if you were though," Wooyoung says, averting his eyes when San looks at him. "Actually fresh out of highschool, I mean. You'd be eighteen and I twenty two and -- yeah."

He's rambling and he knows it. Fingers shaking a little, and thoughts racing, he switches to house slippers as well, relieved when the extra pair fit him.

"Why'd it be weird, though? I mean, it'll only be a four year age difference." San suddenly sounds close -- closer than what Wooyoung definitely expects, but he restrains himself from turning around. "What? Are you thinking about us dating? I myself think I'd like the thought of you being the older one."

Wooyoung releases a loud, forceful laugh. He claps, quickly slipping away. "Hah, good one. Is there any food around? I'm kinda hungry."

"You never answered if this place's to your fancy, though."

"Don't say it like that," Wooyoung presses, but when San chuckles, he breaks out into a big, dorky grin. "But this place is sick."

"Wait until you see the rooms." San's also smiling wide, and soon enough they're both storming down the hall with their suitcases like a bunch of toddlers.

Wooyoung gets hit by another wave of wonder when San introduces him to the bedrooms.

The first's small but exudes comfort, with royal purple bedding and curtains, along with a carpet that glows pale lilac in the dark. The second one's more spacious by a considerable margin, its interior more regal red and gold than anything else. It looks like what Wooyoung would imagine a room that belonged to royalty would look like -- that is, if he ever had the chance to step into an actual castle.

"Dibs on the first," he tells San without even having to think twice about it. Before all the doubt and thoughts about him undeserving of having the choice to pick his own room can wheel themselves in, San smiles at him.

"Ah, I should've known you'd prefer the spacey themed one," San says. He looks amused, and far from being annoyed at Wooyoung for choosing the room he wanted. "Good thinking, fits you anyway."

Wooyoung's neck flushes, but he decides to ignore the older man's statement. "Thanks again for uh, for bringing me here," he says instead.

"Woo, it's seriously no problemo." San pats his back, while Wooyoung scrunches his nose at his words. "It's my birthday gift to you, well, apart from that portrait of me."

"Oh, you mean the first thing you see when you step into the gates of hell?"

San doubles over in laughter. "Oh my god, fuck you. You're an ass."

"Yes, yes, I have an ass," Wooyoung cheekily replies. He's got no idea where all this courage comes from, but the fact that San finds him funny makes him feel like he's doing something good.

San smirks, one that has Wooyoung's stomach flipping. The man takes a step back, stroking his chin. "Yeah. You do have an ass. A very nice one at that."

Wooyoung throws his scarf at San's face. "Oh my fucking god."

San's laughing again, so loud it resonates throughout the entire house. "What? I'm just stating the truth here."

Wooyoung's breath hitches, his heart doing something when he catches the older man staring at his butt. "Food! We're eating food, yes."

San wraps the younger's scarf around his neck, a sly grin on his face. "Yep, we're going to eat, alright."

Wooyoung fucking hates the way his mind descends into the gutter right then. He pretends San's comments about his body have no bearing on him, pushes that dream he had of the older man just yesterday into the deepest corner of his mind, and makes his way to the kitchen. Just like the rest of the house, it's spotless.

San's next to him in no time, and then there's silence, the older just pointedly watching his face.

"Actually, we should take a shower. Just spent like, two hours in a plane and I feel sorta gross," Wooyoung says, which causes San to laugh.

San makes the 'ok' sigh with his fingers. "Sure. We can do that. But I'm not sure what we're having for dinner, though. I dont think there's much food around since I only come here on special occasions."

I only come here on special occasions. Wooyoung replays the sentence over in his mind. It doesn't mean anything, he tells himself, but that's especially hard to believe when he spots the way San keeps smiling at him. Now that he thinks about it, he's never seen the man smile this much in one setting before.

And it's nice. His smiles brighten his face.

"What?" San asks, leaning on the empty kitchen counter.

Wooyoung blinks. "Hm?"

"You look like you wanna tell me something." San gestures at him with his hand. "Go on, tell me."

"Actually, I -- " Wooyoung lightly coughs, trying to ease the lump in his throat. "It's nothing."

"Come on. I know you're hiding something," San answers, leaning in, a smaller, softer smile flitting over his features. "And it's okay, I'm not gonna judge. I'm just curious -- "

"No," Wooyoung interrupts. He blinks repeatedly. "I don't have anything to say, sorry. I just -- I zoned out." I can't say anything about how your face lights up when you smile, or how your eyes turn into half moons and shine when you're happy. Or how deep your dimples get whenever you laugh, and how pretty they look, like Ariana Grande could never. And I really can't talk about that weirdass floaty feeling I get in my chest whenever you grin at me.

"Oh." There's no telling how San feels from that word alone, and Wooyoung isn't looking at his face so he has no idea the kind of expression he's wearing. He finds some comfort in that; he's too afraid of his emotions to act accordingly.

"I'll go get freshened up," Wooyoung says, turning to head in the opposite direction. He only realizes after a few seconds that he doesn't know where the bathroom's located since San never pointed it out to him. His face flushes in embarrassment. "Uh, hyung -- "

His heart stirs when he hears San's quiet chuckle.

"The closest one's the first door to the left upstairs."

"Oh, thanks." Wooyoung glances at San, and as soon as he does he swears at himself.

San's only a few inches away, Wooyoung's scarf still snugly secure around his neck. His eyes have this twinkle in them, and although he isn't smiling, he looks like the sun, its brightness and its warmth combined. Or maybe those are the lightbulbs illuminating his skin, but, he looks...

"Hot. You look hot, like you're heating up. You okay?" San's question is lathered with concern, his brows furrowing as he rests a hand on Wooyoung's forehead. "Gosh. Are you running a fever?"

Wooyoung steps back, chest heaving like he's just gone through near-death experience. It's like he's taken the wrong step, and now he's tripping, spiralling downwards with nothing to hold on to. "I'm -- I'm fine."

"I'll turn on the air condition," San says, not seeming to have heard Wooyoung properly. "Although I don't feel hot at all, I don't want you melting into a puddle and -- "

"I said I'm fine, San," Wooyoung repeats, much louder now. He sounds harsher too, and he winces at the fact. Fuck, he just keeps messing up today, huh?

San pouts, but then his lips stretch into a thin line. "Sorry."

"I'm okay," Wooyoung says. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that, but it's literally the winter season. I don't need to feel any more cold than I already am."

"I just," San pouts again, eyes lowered, "I just wanted to look out for you. I wanted you to... feel at home."

Wooyoung gulps, feeling even worse. "I'm sorry."

"You should go take a shower, yeah?" San says, pulling off the younger's scarf. Seeing it's like a punch to the gut, even if it's nothing serious. "I will too. And then, we can have dinner."

If this were any other moment, Wooyoung would've shortened the space between them with a hug, or something. But right now, he can't. Not with his heart racing a mile a minute, not with his head cluttered with divisive thoughts, and certainly not with that dream he had last night. No, he can't risk anything. He can't fuck things up or ruin the friendship he and San managed to chalk up. He can't do anything.

Wooyoung leaves, and it's only when he's in the bathroom that he feels like he can breathe again.

Just like San predicted, there's nothing much that's edible in the house, but it's okay when Wooyoung finds some bread to make toast, some bacon, and a coffee maker. So in conclusion, they're having breakfast for dinner.

Despite Wooyoung being a piece of shit to him earlier, San still enthusiastically helps him out with the food when he's needed, so the preparation goes smoothly.

"I'm kind of embarrassed of how bare everything is," San speaks after about two minutes of silence. "I mean -- I know I barely spend time here, but everything's so dry."

Wooyoung, still reeling with guilt over his actions, chooses his next words carefully. "We can shop and stuff tomorrow. Like, buy just enough for two days." He pauses, panicking a bit at how domestic that sounds. "Or we can just order food, or eat outside -- like most people do on vacations."

"Good idea," San says after taking a bite of buttered toast. He's in pjs again, a grey one with numerous blushing clouds on them, and his hair is pulled into a lazy ponytail. Wooyoung looks away when he realizes he's staring again. "And -- oh! We can go to a beach resort and try out a couple rides. There are really nice restaurants by the beach to eat and drink too. But we won't spend too much time outside so you can study."

His consideration makes that floaty sensation erupt inside Wooyoung again, and it renders him breathless. His grip on his mug tightens, nails almost scraping against its surface.

"We can do clothes shopping too, on Sunday," San continues his thought process. "Whatever you want, I'll get it."

"You don't need to."

"I want to. Truly." San's eyes are a cozy brown that remind Wooyoung of hot chocolate. They glisten with sincerity. "Let me treat you and take care of you. Please."

"Why?" Wooyoung blurts before he can stop himself. He stares at his fingers, seeing they're now stark white. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- "

"No, it's fine," San says. "Ask me whatever. I want us to be able to talk about anything. Like, you shouldn't feel scared of asking me questions."

"I'm not scared," Wooyoung feels defensive, for some reason. "I'm not scared of talking to you."

San smiles. "That's good. I just want you to...tell me how you feel, what you think."

"You want me to be honest."

"Yep. Yeah," San nods, playing with his bacon. He's making a smiley face with them. "Just, don't be too rough and hurt my feelings..."

Wooyoung chews his lip. Looking at San like this, the man suddenly looks like the younger one. He's got good skin, Wooyoung realizes, free of wrinkles and pimples. And now that he's pouting again, he looks so innocent.

"...I don't know why you're buying things for me when I...I wasn't brought here for that," Wooyoung slowly begins. When I'm only here to work until you get sick and tired of seeing my face.

"That's because I enjoy your company. I enjoy spending time with you, and when you're around... I don't feel as alone," San confesses, his answer one Wooyoung hadn't been expecting. "I'm sure you've noticed I only talk to Joongie and Mingi, and sometimes Yunho?"

Wooyoung doesn't know what to say, so he quickly nods. Now that San's said it, he has noticed the lack of people the man seemed associated with, and how quiet and reclusive San would act at times, even with Wooyoung around. He didn't look like he enjoyed leaving the house either.

"I'm not much of an outgoing person," San explains, fiddling with a stray lock of his hair. "In fact, I'm quite reserved. I don't have a lot of people I'm close with, and staying at home a lot tends to feel isolating sometimes. That's where you come in. You're fun, and you make me smile a lot. I like that."

Fun? Wooyoung never knew someone would ever describe him in such a way. Shy? Standoffish? Friendless? Yes, those adjectives are ones he's more than familiar with. But being fun? Wooyoung thinks he's hearing wrong.

"I'm fun?"

"Yeah, you're fun. You're also really cool, and strong-willed."

Wooyoung's both flustered and appalled by these descriptions. "What? I'm so not cool. And strong-willed? I feel like you're indirectly calling me stubborn but you're just trying to be nice."

"You think I'm just trying to be nice?" Now it's San's turn to look appalled. "I'm just speaking the truth. Learn how to take compliments, my guy."

Wooyoung nibbles his toast, his throat drying when he notices the extra pieces of bacon San places on his plate.

"More bacon for the cutie who cooks for me and makes me laugh. You're totally -- " San pulls out something from his breast pocket. It's a finger-heart. "Awesome."

Wooyoung pauses, before chuckling nervously. "Uh...thanks?"

San adds a second finger-heart, and makes then bigger. He starts waving them around. "Awesome, awesome, Wooyoungie is awesome -- "

"Oh god. Please stop."

"Wooyoungie is the awesomest man ever," San drawls in a high-pitched, babyish voice.

Wooyoung pats his cheeks. They're burning, and probably pink as heck. "Awesomest is not a word."

San just continues to grin and make finger-hearts at him, and crap, Wooyoung's heart feels too big for his chest.

"I saw you crying on my second night at your house." Wooyoung's lips snap shut as soon as he says this, but San has already heard him.

"...What?" San's previous smile is nowhere in sight, and the heaviness pressing on Wooyoung's chest grows.

"Y-You said you want us to be honest with each other." Wooyoung sips coffee from his mug, hoping the dose of caffeine would shock him into being braver. "I'd been walking around that night -- because I couldn't sleep -- and I guess I somehow came across your bedroom. I heard... crying, and before I could think twice about it, I went in. And then, I..."

"And then you what?" San asks, face blank.

"I held you, and you stopped crying and fell back asleep," the younger finalises. "I'm sorry for not telling you about it earlier. Guess I felt you wouldn't have liked me witnessing something so private."

San exhales, shoulders bending forward like he wants nothing else than to hide himself. "Sorry you had to see that. Probably scarred you."

"Why would it? I was just worried about you."

San's lips curve into a faint smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Thanks. For um, caring. And thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome." Wooyoung, despite his nerves, keeps his gaze on San, wanting to gauge how he's feeling.

San catches him in no time, and he rubs his neck. "You're staring at me like that again."

"Like what?"

"Like a puppy. You've got doe eyes -- similar to a puppy's," San laughs. "Trying to make me fall for you or what?"

Wooyoung's head spins. "I don't -- I'm not trying to -- "

"It's a joke."

"Oh."

It's a joke, that's all it is. Wooyoung says nothing for the rest of dinner, and so does San. In the end, they're both too tired to stay up, and decide to go to bed.

"We can like...get you some pyjamas if you like," San says after walking Wooyoung to his room, suppressing a yawn with the back of his palm. "I noticed you wear sweats and a shirt to sleep most of the time."

"Oh." Wooyoung once again doesn't know what to say, especially now that he's aware of how much attention San pays him. "I guess I won't mind."

San giggles. "You just made the right choice."

Wooyoung playfully shoves his chest, ignoring how electrified his fingers feel afterwards. "Goodnight, hyung."

"Goodnight, Wooyoung-ah."

* * *

Sunset's Dusk is a small restaurant near hyeopjae beach that, despite it's hilarious name, provided a secure and laid-back atmosphere, and served really nice seafood. Surrounded by glowing Christmas trees, minimal chatter and buzzing fairy lights, Wooyoung feels amazing.

"I forgot how scary lobsters can be," San's voice eases into Wooyoung's head at that moment, causing the younger man to look up. He laughs into his hand when he sees the man, decked in a thick winter coat and a fuzzy black beanie, stare at the crustacean on his plate like it'd hop back to life any second.

"I thought lobster's a classic rich people staple," Wooyoung teases.

"They're scary. Why would you think that?" San gasps, and Wooyoung laughs again.

Both guys entered the restaurant an hour ago after going on a few rides at the beach resort they went to, situating themselves in the seats furthest away from any windows and shifting eyes. It was Wooyoung's idea, even when San tried to reason that people around here wouldn't recognize him when he's dressed like a 'regular Jeju citizen'.

"Why'd you order it, then?" Wooyoung asks, rolling his eyes at the way San cringes when he leans over the table to cut out the lobster meat for him. "See? Easy-peasy."

"I feel like I just witnessed a murder."

"Oh my god. Just eat it," Wooyoung chuckles. He attempts to take a forkful of braised fish, but notices his fingers are a little sticky now. "Shit. I'm gonna head to the bathroom to get my hands cleaned."

"Yeah, sure. Leave me to ingest this grotesquely large lobster all by myself."

"You are so lame." Wooyoung smiles, about to stand when he locks eyes with a woman a couple seats away. It's brief, though, as the woman looks away as soon as they make eye contact, and Wooyoung feels his heart start to beat again. Stop being weird. It's just another human being.

After washing his hands as much as he can in the bathroom, he leaves but stops in his tracks at what he sees next.

San's still seated, but the same lady from before stands before him, donned in a dark green sweater as she tucks a strand of her long, curly red hair behind her ear. She passes San a note, before rushing to a table where two other women sit.

She most likely just gave San her number because she recognizes him. Wooyoung can't help the bitterness that creeps into him right then. Right, of course.

Wooyoung, pretending he saw nothing, saunters back to his and San's table. He sits with more force than necessary.

"It's for you," San speaks, but instead of sliding the note in his hand towards Wooyoung, he just leaves it in the middle of the table.

Wooyoung blinks, eyes widening. "What?"

"Apparently her name is Anna and she thinks you're cute." San bites the inside of his cheek. "She's been looking at you for a while, actually, but I don't think you'd noticed."

Wooyoung looks to his side, and there Anna is, looking at him like San said. Bangs frame her dollish brown eyes, her plump lips the same shade of red as her hair. She grins widely at Wooyoung once their eyes meet, and he stills. She's pretty. Very pretty.

He stares back at San, internally freaking out. "Is this a joke?" He mumbles distractedly.

"You tell me. She's the one who gave me the note instead of speaking to you directly," San says, eyes narrowed. "That's so elementary school."

Wooyoung reaches for the note, inhaling deeply.

I think you're really attractive. There's this get-together later tonight here, at 8, and I'd like for us to talk more then. What do you think?

ps, my name's Ana! :D

"Are you gonna do it?"

"Huh?" Wooyoung looks up at San.

"Are you gonna spend time with Ana with one n?"

"Don't refer to her as that," Wooyoung scolds, to which San huffs at. "And please keep your voice down."

"She's clearly interested in you," San says, playing with the straw of his iced drink. He keeps stirring it but never takes a sip. "So are you gonna go out with her or not?"

"Why do you want to know so bad?" Wooyoung asks, a bit startled by the older's sudden questions. "What? Do you want me to?"

San averts his gaze. Now, he's poking his half-eaten lobster with his fork. "I dunno. It's your choice if you wanna hook up with her. She's pretty, so."

"Wait." Wooyoung rests against his chair. He doesn't know how he'd never noticed it earlier, but now it's more apparent than ever with how cold and stoic San's being. "Are you... jealous?"

San freezes, surprise flashing across his eyes. "W-What? No way."

"You're jealous. You're so freaking jealous."

San's cheeks glow a soft pink. "I am not jealous."

"You're jealous Ana's into me and not you."

San doesn't look shy and flustered anymore. "I'm literally gay, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung shrugs, trying to act all nonchalant despite his speeding heartbeat. He turns, catching Ana's stare once more, and although there's a smudge of doubt inside him, he smiles at her. She returns it, and he's once again struck by how pretty she is. It nearly intimidates him.

"You're going to meet her tonight," San narrates for him. He sounds disappointed.

"Yeah. I mean -- it'll be fun, right? What's the harm? I'll drive back to the house as soon as I'm done. Won't stay out too late." Wooyoung doesn't know why he's trying to rationalize his decision of meeting up with Ana, like he's trying to justify himself.

"You're leaving Jeju island when this weekend's over."

Wooyoung nods. "I'm not looking for a relationship."

San's lips part to say something else, but he stops. "...Whatever. I'll be home, watching movies and stuff."

"You don't want to come with?"

"And third-wheel your date? No thank you."

Wooyoung chuckles at the sight of San's pout. "Hey," he rests a hand on the man's arm. "Don't feel sad, hyung. I'm all yours after today anyway."

San's frown smoothens, and Wooyoung panics. Shit. Why did I have to say that?

San touches his arm too, and Wooyoung's chest erupts with the fuzzy type of warmth. "Right now, at this moment, you just made a promise to me. You can't take it back."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay."

San finally smiles, his dimples showing. "Thank you."

* * *

Ana's...unexpectedly shy, and kind of adorable too. That's what Wooyoung soon discovers when he re-enters Sunset's Dusk a few minutes past eight, seeing her waving him over to their shared table for tonight. They quickly get to know one another, and it's still a bit surreal how she hangs on to his every word and laughs at his corny jokes.

She's actually interested in him. Wooyoung has to remind himself of that time and time again.

Learning Wooyoung has to leave after the weekend doesn't deter Ana however, and soon they head into a bar and she asks for a dance, which Wooyoung agrees to.

He's a little more open now after all the drinks he's had, and he guesses that's what loosens him up and gives him the courage to take her hand and have some fun for once.

He's once again reminded of how lovely she is under the hazy lights, her soft cherry red hair falling over her dainty shoulders and the pastel pink sundress and sweater she's got on. But, even with her bright smiles, how close she is and how nice she smells, Wooyoung doesn't really feel anything, other than relief at how friendly and comfortable she is.

"Hey, Wooyoung?" Ana speaks up, her smooth, honeyed voice barely heard over all the music.

"Yeah?"

"You've got a little something on your shirt." She grins, stepping in to wipe said stain off, only for her to halt midway, and press a kiss on his cheek.

Wooyoung's heart stops, utterly aware of her vanilla scented perfume and her white painted hands lightly clasping his neck. All of a sudden, something frighteningly similar to horror overwhelms him, and he's stumbling backwards, heart in his throat.

He feels like he's losing control of his body as he vomits a slew of apologies to Ana. "I-I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Are you okay?" Ana asks, eyes wide with worry.

"Yes, I am," Wooyoung hurriedly replies. "I just -- I need to go. Sorry."

And then Wooyoung's shifting through the crowd of people, his legs about to give way under him. He's disappointed and angry with himself, because yet again, he's managed to let his nerves take over and fuck things up. He's supposed to be having fun with a beautiful girl that seems to genuinely like him, but now he's outside in the cold, regretting his life choices.

The snow from the night sky grazes his skin, and when Wooyoung rubs his eyes, his hands come back wet.

You're so pathetic, the voice in his head spits. It doesn't faze him, because he already knows it.

Wooyoung's thoughts race as he drives the Jeep he came with back to Choi San's residence. He says nothing as he enters, too ashamed to even tolerate himself tonight.

The livingroom and kitchen lights are off, so Wooyoung assumes San must've gone to sleep or something. But then he sees the three plushies discarded on the floor.

He picks them up, a little confused, and as he heads down, he spots two more.

"San?" Wooyoung winces at how croaky and weak he sounds. "San, are you there?"

No answer. Wooyoung keeps walking, deciding to check the rooms. They're all empty.

Realization dawns on him right then like ice. San isn't home.

In an instant, Wooyoung races out of the house, his phone in hand as he dials San's number up to five times with no response.

Where the hell did he go?

San doesn't drive. That's what the man told Wooyoung a few days ago while they'd been discussing their means of transportation when they arrived at Jeju island later on. So Wooyoung figures he wouldn't have gone far.

Fuck! He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Skipping out on using the car, he walks down the road, looking everywhere he can for the older man. Where are you??

Wooyoung resorts to running until he leaves the neighbourhood entirely, not ceasing until he comes across the public park he and San visited earlier this morning. Lungs aching for more air, Wooyoung steps into the area, trying not to let the silence get to him.

He walks and walks, but doesn't see anyone that looks like San. About to give up, he turns a corner and sees a bench in the distance. Someone's sitting on it.

Wooyoung doesn't even hesitate to jog up to them. At the sight of their face, his heart squeezes painfully.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Wooyoung questions. He doesn't care at all how harsh he sounds, not when San decided to disappear off to somewhere without telling him a thing.

San intentionally turns his head away from Wooyoung. "You went out. I decided to go out too."

Wooyoung laughs in disbelief. He can't believe what he's hearing. "You call this going out? You made me search everywhere for you because you chose to switch your fucking phone off instead of letting me know your plans. You're dressed only in pyjamas for Christ's sake, even when it's snowing heavily, and you're in public. What if someone saw you and recognized you?"

"It's none of your business if they did, Wooyoung," San snaps, jaw clenched. "You aren't me, so don't start acting like you give a shit now."

If Wooyoung's heart was being squeezed before, now it's getting ripped to shreds. "Get up."

"No. Leave me alone."

"Why are you being so goddamn difficult?" Wooyoung argues. He doesn't get it, doesn't get why San's deciding to act so fucking stubborn for no reason at all. "Is it because of that date I had with Ana? Well -- newsflash -- it ended horribly, and it's all my fault. Does that make you happy? Huh?"

"How can you say that?" San seethes.

"Then tell me what's the matter with you!" Wooyoung snaps, white hot irritation boiling beneath his skin. "Tell me why you're acting like this, San. Even -- even when we came home from that restaurant, you were off. Does it bother you that much? Me being with someone else?"

San's lips wobble, hands fisting the fabric of his pants. His ears and cheeks are splotched with pink when tears begin to roll down his face. His stony resolve breaks apart as he tries to wipe them off, body trembling like a leaf.

His quiet whimpers make Wooyoung feel like a monster.

"I'm sorry. Fuck." Wooyoung slinks into the bench beside San. He's at a loss for what to do now, and he's starting to hate himself even more than he already does. He just keeps making things worse, doesn't he?

He feels something holding the hem of his sleeve in a death grip, and when he looks down, he realizes it's San.

Wooyoung pulls him into a hug while the older man nestles his face on his chest, never letting go of Wooyoung. "I'm so sorry I got mad at you. I didn't mean to."

San places his hand on the left side of Wooyoung's chest, and Wooyoung fears he'll feel just how quickly his heart's beating. San doesn't answer, just leans further into Wooyoung's arms, and they stay like that for a while.

* * *

Wooyoung makes hot chocolate for San as soon as they return to the house, wrapping the man with a thick blanket as well so fend off the cold.

San doesn't put up a fight while all this is being done, and by the time he's finished the hot chocolate, some colour has returned to his cheeks.

"Thank you," San rasps, avoiding Wooyoung's eyes. "For tonight."

"It's okay." It's so awkward, and it's all Wooyoung's fault.

San chews his bottom lip. "Can...can you help me get my meds? I would go myself, but I feel this close to getting hypothermia. It's in my room, on the nightstand."

"Meds?"

"Yeah." San exhales a nervous laugh. "It's a bottle with 'prazosin' written on it."

Wooyoung's eyes flicker with recognition. "Prazosin? Wait, is it the one used for PTSD-related nightmares?"

San picks at his nails. "...How'd you know?"

"Did a paper on it once in highschool," Wooyoung explains. An overwhelming silence follows, and then Wooyoung's on his feet. "I'll uh, I'll get it for you."

San nods, his eyes trained on his lap. "Yeah. Thanks."

Once Wooyoung grabs the medication, he heads into the kitchen and gets a glass of water for San as well.

"Thank you," San says for what seems like the hundredth time that night, and just like the others, it drowns Wooyoung in nothing but guilt.

Wooyoung wants to ask San the reasons why he has to take prazosin in the first place. His mind's literally flowing with questions that need answers, but he knows it's not his place. Especially not after the stupid stunt he pulled earlier.

Not to mention, San doesn't look like he's ready to answer anything tonight.

"I should probably get changed and go to sleep," the man says after a few minutes. He inhales a breath, muttering in a much lower voice, "I'm sorry about your date too."

Wooyoung shakes his head, trying not to let his disappointment show. "Nah, it's whatever."

He sticks to San's side when he stands up, and follows him to his room.

"Goodnight, Wooyoung," San whispers, finally looking him in the eye.

Wooyoung doesn't know what comes over him at that second. One moment, he's standing in front of San as the older male wishes him a good night, and in the next he's cupping his face, swiping his thumb across his cheek.

San's warm. So warm.

San's breath hitches, and Wooyoung immediately drops his hand.

"Goodnight, hyung."

San stares at the floor, shutting the door soon after.

Wooyoung doesn't know what's happening to him anymore.

* * *

a/n: this chapter was hard to write. too many emotions i wanted to display, hope it turned out well. thoughts?