cw: mature content in first half of chapter

* * *

《 can't help it
can't help but
question everything 》

Wooyoung was so convinced as a child he'd had some type of fear showing his body. As long as he could remember, he'd preferred changing separately instead of with others when p.e came around, and even felt like he was doing something wrong whenever he went to the beach or a public pool and had to take his shirt off.

Turned out, there was a name for that. Gymnophobia, it was called, or the Fear of Nudity. After that hasty Google search that confirmed his insecurities, Wooyoung spent the upcoming years avoiding any social event that contained having to show some skin.

At first, he figured it was due to all the occasional hurtful remarks about his body thrown his way by his own parents, but later on, Wooyoung soon discovered the reason he was so adamant on staying covered was simply because he hated himself. He reasoned that, if he didn't like the way he looked, others would most likely be disgusted with him.

Wooyoung harboured that thought for a long time, abiding by it because he figured it was the truth. He was disappointing to look at, and as a result no one else would ever look at him and think of him as beautiful.

And now, with San's hand in his hair and the other running appreciatively down the curve of his body, Wooyoung can't help but wonder what San's true intentions are.

The man's dressed in fuzzy pink pjs with red flowers on them, quite similar to the sky blue one Wooyoung's wearing. And, even though Wooyoung isn't really a big fan of pastel colours, he feels nothing less than cozy in his clothes, all wrapped up in San's warm arms.

"What are you thinking about?" San asks, the sincerity in his chocolate brown eyes causing Wooyoung to briefly stare at the windows on the side. Predictably, they're pitch black, showcasing the sheets of snow drizzling in front of them.

"I'm not thinking anything," Wooyoung answers, but it's a lie and they both know it.

San shifts closer to him, planting a soft kiss to his temple which takes him aback. San's always so touchy and affectionate with him, and although Wooyoung doesn't mind it, he feels unworthy of being treated like this.

"You have a lot of things on your mind," San starts, his dimly lit bedroom casting shadows over his features. But even in the dark, Wooyoung can spot the raw thirst in his gaze. "I can help you get your mind off it."

Wooyoung's heart races in anticipation, but he decides to humour the older. "Well, how are you gonna do that?"

San shoots him a beaming smile as his hands slip past the younger's top, stroking the flesh underneath, and for a second, a twinge of panic at the older man being so intimately near forces its way through. It doesn't last however, not when San keeps staring at him as if he's the most marvelous thing to grace the universe.

The buttons of Wooyoung's shirt are undone before he knows it, and San's lips are on his, kissing him with so much passion and sweetness; like he's savouring the taste of him.

It sends Wooyoung's head spinning, his heart once again feeling too full for his body to contain. San kisses him so amazingly, lips sucking and trailing down his torso in such a way that makes his toes curl in pleasure.

San's touches turn needier, but the gentleness is still there, and Wooyoung has to restrain himself from shivering when San begins stroking him, his other hand cupping his ass.

Wooyoung's dick instantly hardens, so stiff it's almost painful, but he doesn't get the chance to linger on how exposed he feels because San kisses him again, taking his breath away. He moans out loud, melting right under San as the man nips on his earlobe, and he has to remind himself time and time again that the older isn't put off or repelled by what he sees.

"Are you..." San's voice is gruff, deepened with yearning as he studies Wooyoung's whole body, eyes warm and delicate. "Will you be okay with us going further?"

In all honesty, Wooyoung doesn't know, but before he can come up with anything, something rings right across the wide bedroom, shrill and irritating. It makes Wooyoung all the more aware of his current position, and when San turns to look in the direction the sound's coming from, an acrid type of coldness swallows him.

"It's a call," San mutters, but his hands are still on Wooyoung's body, unwilling to let go. "I think it's Joongie."

The coldness worsens, freezing Wooyoung's insides to ice. Don't answer him. Focus on me, is what he wants to respond with, but he knows he has no right to say that. So instead, he sits up, bunching up the sheets to his chest and shrugs, his go-to method when he feels like pretending he's cool with something when he actually isn't.

"Go talk to him," Wooyoung says. "He probably has something important to tell you."

San doesn't waste time answering the call, Hongjoong's voice soon resounding through the walls of the bedroom.

"Sannie, hi! How are you right now?"

San moves until his back's pressed against the wall, the iPad's light making his beautiful smile glow more than it already does. "Hi Joongie! And I'm great, thanks for asking. When are you coming back? There's only a few days left before New Year's."

"I called because I'm actually arriving back in Korea tomorrow."

The pure, unadulterated excitement that flickers across San's face right then is one that amuses Wooyoung to see -- but there's also this weird, ugly emotion too that sharpens the ice in his heart, splintering it.

"Really?" San looks so happy, and Wooyoung's ashamed for even feeling that way in the first place. "When are you coming?"

"In the evening. Around...seven, I think." Hongjoong sounds like he's smiling too, and that horrible feeling returns.

"I seriously can't wait to see you again, especially after so long," San says. His eyes follow Wooyoung as he lies next to his thigh, his thumb rubbing over the younger's cheek.

"Is there someone else with you?" Hongjoong asks. "Is Wooyoung around?"

Wooyoung palms San's cock through his pyjama bottoms, and the older man gasps.

Ignoring the slight nervousness that flutters in his gut, he slowly snakes a hand into San's pants, massaging his rock hard length.

"Sannie, are you okay?" Hongjoong questions from the iPad, only for San to gulp, hips stuttering for much needed friction.

"I-I'm fine. I just -- " San's voice breaks when Wooyoung tugs his pants down, thumb circling over the slit of his shaft.

Wooyoung isn't really sure what he's doing -- or if what he's doing is okay -- but guessing by the way San's hips continuously buckle, eyes glossed over with lust, he must be doing something right.

"Is something wrong?" Hongjoong keeps asking, when Wooyoung wants nothing more than for him to just hang up already. "I know you hate it when I say this, but I've been really worried about you lately. I care about you a lot, San, and you know I always want you to be happy."

Hongjoong's somber, honest words to San make Wooyoung feel worse, even when he knows there isn't a real reason to feel that way.

"I care a lot about you too, Hongjoong."

Wooyoung slides his mouth over San's dick at that second, nearly causing the man to drop his iPad. His heart pounds with both excitement and apprehension, and it's electrifying.

Fuck, I guess I'm really doing this, Wooyoung thinks, and for a few seconds, sheer panic consumes him because San's girthy dick is in his mouth and it's definitely a strange sensation to get used to. He eventually regains his cool however, swallowing the older's length until it reaches his throat.

It happens much quicker than Wooyoung anticipates. With a muffled slew of obscenities, San has the iPad thrown elsewhere, and then he's clutching Wooyoung's hair, deliberately thrusting into his mouth. He isn't forceful, which Wooyoung greatly appreciates, and, copying what he saw San do last night, takes the entirety of his cock before letting go, making sure San feels every last bit of it.

"Fuck," San curses, and it's so attractive Wooyoung feels all the blood rush into his length. "Keep going. You're -- you're doing so well."

Wooyoung, lightheaded from the older's compliments, keeps sucking him, cupping his balls.

"You have no idea the things I want to do to you..." San whispers, his words getting Wooyoung wet. "F-Fuck, Wooyoung."

"Do them to me, then," Wooyoung says, climbing over San. The older's eyes trace over his bare chest and naked body, hands caressing down his back. "Whatever you want..."

San turns them over, Wooyoung shivering as he spreads his legs open, stroking his member.

"I..." San mumbles, kissing the younger's neck, "I want to fuck you. So bad. But if you aren't ready, I have something else we can do."

Wooyoung bites his lip, a little anxious. His precum smears over San's fingers while the man continues to pump him. "Something else?"

San heads to one of his drawers and pulls it open, taking out what appears to be a bottle of lube. He makes his way back to where Wooyoung rests, kissing him deeply again.

"I can see you're nervous," San mutters through heated kisses, "so we won't go all the way. You're gonna be alright."

Wooyoung watches as San twists open the bottle, the enticing smile of vanilla tainting the air. His thoughts are in complete disarray as San lathers his fingers with the transparent liquid, before smoothing some over his hole.

It's terribly cold. Wooyoung's insides clench with longing.

"I'm going to finger you; stretch you out," San utters, pushing the younger's legs further apart. "It'll feel a little weird at first, I'll admit, but it'll feel a lot better soon. Trust me."

Wooyoung stiffens as one of San's fingers enters him, and the man pauses, getting him more comfortable with the foreign intrusion.

Wooyoung inhales and grinds into his hand, forcing his finger deeper. San immediately moans, Adam's apple bobbing.

"Shit, Woo -- " San pushes in another finger, lifting the shorter's legs over his shoulders. He slides them in and out of Wooyoung at a steady pace, and Wooyoung whimpers at the hot pleasure coiling inside his stomach. "You're so tight..."

San slips his fingers out, pouring more lube over his hand as well as Wooyoung's erect cock, and then he's stroking him and fingering him at the same time, and fuck, Wooyoung tears up from how amazing he feels.

San goes deeper, faster, adding another finger. Wooyoung's muscles tense at the whole new wave of euphoria that grips him when San hits a certain spot, and soon enough he's cumming, releasing all the built-up pressure inside him.

But San isn't done with him yet. He leans in, and then his tongue's flicking over the rim of Wooyoung's ass, nipping at his flesh. It's unexpected, but it doesn't take long for Wooyoung to get used to it.

San palms his member while his warm tongue continues licking his hole, and Wooyoung's never felt better in his life.

Wooyoung whines when San fingers him once more, the older's dark eyes observing each and every part of him.

And San, with his long black hair framing his hooded eyes and freckled neck, and his plump, glossy lips, looks so captivating that Wooyoung feels like he's falling with no way of ever getting up.

What is happening to him?

San doesn't stop pleasuring him, ensuring his full satisfaction well until Wooyoung cums again, the sticky liquid dripping down his thighs and the sheets.

"You're so beautiful, Wooyoung-ah," San whispers, the love in his eyes so vivid it has Wooyoung's heart skipping a beat. "So goddamn beautiful."

And in that moment, Wooyoung allows himself to believe him.

* * *

Everywhere Wooyoung looks, he's met with large golden chandeliers twinkling under the amber lights, polished tables and chairs with white linen placed all over the smooth, reflective marble floors, and an assortment of food with enough to feed a couple hundred people.

He blinks repeatedly and inhales a deep breath, wanting to calm himself down. Donned in the elegant suit San had bought earlier for him, he feels like he doesn't belong at all, even when he's sure no one he's met so far suspects him of being an average college student. Surprisingly, around here, no one bats an eye at being referred to as a 'bodyguard'.

Once San looks at him after greeting the fifth important looking middle-aged man for the night, Wooyoung puts on a big smile he hopes looks bright and natural enough, not wanting the older to feel bad about bringing him here tonight.

Of course, if you asked Wooyoung at that moment where he'd want to spent New Year's Eve, he'd reply anywhere else but here, but he knows he can't voice that out loud; not when San's basically obligated to be here by default, socializing with people with more money and status than Wooyoung can even dream of.

"I can tell you don't like it here," San says, drawing Wooyoung out of his chaotic thoughts. "And honestly, I hate it here too. But, Hongjoong hyung and I have to be present and stuff. Especially me."

Wooyoung stares at the older, admiring him for the millionth time that night. Instead of the red and black theme Wooyoung has going on, San had opted for silver and red, and he glows in it. With the lacy choker around his neck, the ruby crystal under his left eye that's meant to look like a teardrop, and his soft sparkly makeup, he looks pretty much ethereal; like an angel.

Wooyoung's heart races when San catches him staring, and he clears his throat, busying himself with the tall glass of chardonnay in his hand. "I have a question. No -- make that two."

San giggles, staring around them before shuffling much closer to the younger. "Shoot."

"Where's Yunho? I mean, Hongjoong's talking to some people, but I haven't seen Yunho around."

San chews his lip, a little nervous. He looks at the ground. "Uh... he's spending time with a few loved ones."

Wooyoung guesses San's response makes sense, so he doesn't get why he looks so guilty. The older's smile has completely disappeared, and Wooyoung immediately searches for a way to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Can't blame him. I'd rather spend time with my relatives than to talk more with these people."

San chuckles. "Come on. They aren't that bad."

"There's this guy we had a conversation with that looked like he was wearing a wig. Seriously gives me the creeps. I bet you know who I'm talking about. He's the one with the wife that's got all that powder on her face."

"Wooyoung -- oh my god." San holds him by the shoulder, clamping a hand over his mouth. "You can't say things like that around here. What if someone hears you?" But San's laughing, much happier than before.

It makes Wooyoung a lot braver. "You're the one covering my mouth. I'm pretty sure a few people are now watching us."

San nudges him, his chuckles like music to his ears. "Oh shush."

Wooyoung shrugs, taking a quick sip of his drink. "Second question: if I decide to take a bunch of the food to go, will I get in trouble for it?"

San grins, rubbing Wooyoung's shoulder at first, and then snaking it down his back where no one else can see. "I don't see why you'd get in trouble. Though it would raise some eyebrows. These people judge you for everything."

"They sound like swell people to be around," Wooyoung replies sarcastically.

"Of course," San's tone is just as dry. "I know all the things they say about me anyway."

The joyful air between them darkens, and Wooyoung's smile drops, taking notice of the heaviness lacing San's words.

He opens his mouth to come up with something that'll maybe cheer San up, but someone new steps in, their Dior seafoam green suit and deep blue hair hurriedly catching his eye.

"Joongie," San sounds relieved as Hongjoong marches over, and Wooyoung gulps, swallowing down his slight envy. "Why'd you take so long?"

"He's here," Hongjoong states, flashing Wooyoung a pleasant smile that the younger returns. "The CEO of MK enterprises; the clothing brand we're planning on doing a collaboration with in Spring of next year. He's dying to talk to you."

"Oh." San's face grows more blank, every semblance of emotion wiped off. It worries Wooyoung to see, and it worsens when he looks down and spots the man tugging the colourful bracelets hidden under his sleeve again and again.

"Hey," Hongjoong starts, his face filled with concern, "it's gonna be fine. It'll only last like, five minutes tops. I won't let it exceed that."

"Can Wooyoung come along? I want him with me."

Wooyoung's eyes widen, pulse racing at the sudden attention. He tenses at both Hongjoong's and San's eyes now on him.

Hongjoong's eyes reflect uncertainty, and it affects Wooyoung even when he knows he's got no reason to feel that way. Unlike everyone else here, he doesn't have anything to his name. He clearly can't be around or interact with anyone of a high caliber.

"I'm gonna chill by the buffet," Wooyoung swiftly assures, pulling on a tight smile. "The food there looks great."

Hongjoong nods, while San looks defeated. It makes Wooyoung feel bad, but he knows he has no other choice.

So, he watches them leave, observing everyone they talk to on the way. His stupid, insecure mind seethes each time he catches a few of the women there eyeing San. It also makes it exceedingly obvious how San and Hongjoong complement each other a lot more in wealth, looks, personality -- everything.

Hongjoong's much more compatible with San, and you know it, the voice in Wooyoung's head taunts, and he frowns, wanting to hit himself. He tells the voice to shut up, but it doesn't, instead relaying a string of responses that tamper even more with his self-confidence.

Why does Choi San like you anyways?

Wooyoung heads over to the first chocolate fountain that he sees and picks up a stick of strawberries, too lost in his thoughts to actually coat them with chocolate.

"...You know, you should probably dip those strawberries in that fountain, instead of just, y'know, staring at them."

Wooyoung's head snaps up, locking gazes with a man he's never met before. He's got caramel coloured hair and rich tanned skin, and his round brown eyes are alert and sly, observing Wooyoung as much as Wooyoung's observing him.

The man grins, exposing a set of straight pearly teeth. "Hi," he greets, tucking his hands into the pockets of his expensive looking purple velvet tuxedo. Eyes surveying Wooyoung once again, he remarks, "Now that I've seen you up close, I must say Choi San definitely has a type."

"Excuse me?" Wooyoung says, eyes narrowed. Alarm throbs through his temples, because what if the male in front of him, and other people know about him and San?

The guy chuckles, the sound chilling Wooyoung to the bone. "Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. I'm Lee Haechan, chief editor of Mist, the No. 1 fashion and beauty magazine in South Korea. I'm also Choi San's ex boyfriend."

Wooyoung's heart freezes over. Distractedly, he puts the strawberry stick back in its place, totally avoiding the other man's stare. "Oh..."

"You're Jung Wooyoung, right? His bodyguard." Haechan says the word like its the most preposterous thing he's ever heard of, and Wooyoung's hands clench.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung begins, anger boiling inside him, "but why are you talking to me? What the hell do you want?"

Lee Haechan hardly looks deterred by his outburst, placing some fruit into his plate. "Guessing by how defensive you're acting, I'm sure you and him have something going on."

Wooyoung's face must've showcased how utterly baffled he feels, because Haechan just laughs, something cruel dancing in his eyes.

"Don't worry. I won't tell a soul. Korea isn't that progressive yet; wouldn't want your dearest losing his hard-earned position, now would we?" Haechan continues, taking a bite off a grape. "Anyway, I just have some advice for you."

Leave him alone. Stop talking to him, Wooyoung's mind scolds, because he's well aware of people who hate to see others shine by trampling all over their happiness, but his feet stay fucking still, glued to the gleaming, spotless floor.

"Choi San will quickly fall hard for you, and he'll fall out of love just as easily," Haechan explains, his eyes boring right into Wooyoung's as if he can read every one of his insecurities down to the very last detail. "I know this because we dated, after all. He'll make you feel special and loved; spoil you silly. But, then he'll get bored, wondering why he ever liked you in the first place."

That isn't true. Shut up, shut up, shut up! Wooyoung wants to say; wants to yell in Lee Haechan's face, because who the hell does he think he is, trying to destroy tonight for him? But the man's smugness is one he can't ignore. He sounds honest, truthful.

"Fuck off," Wooyoung spits, but he's too miserable for those words to have any lasting effect. He sounds pitiful; all broken and exhausted like a wounded animal.

He rushes off right then, not turning back once to give Lee Haechan the satisfaction of seeing the tears in his eyes. He keeps walking with no set destination in mind, his gaze stuck to the floors so no one can see the state of his face.

"Wooyoung? Wooyoung!"

Wooyoung grits his teeth when a hand grabs his wrist, stopping him from going further.

"Wooyoung, where are you going?" It's San himself, and just his voice hardens the lump in Wooyoung's throat. "I just finished talking with that CEO, and I couldn't see you anywhere. I -- are you okay?"

Wooyoung looks to the side when San steps in front of him, eyes studying his expression.

"Wooyoung..." the younger flinches as San touches his chin and tilts his head to look at him, his thumb as soft as clouds. "What's wrong?"

"People are around." Wooyoung moves away and adjusts his bowtie, blinking to get rid of the wetness clinging to his lashes. "You can't do this here."

San frowns, lips tucked into a pout. Another day and another moment, Wooyoung would've melted at the sight, but not today. Not when he feels so hopeless.

"Then let's talk outside," San beckons, his fingers folding over Wooyoung's. "Let's talk and figure out what's bothering you. I hate seeing you like this, you know that right?"

Wooyoung's jaw clenches. Who's Lee Haechan? He wants to ask, but a woman with grey hair and a form-fitting lilac dress shows up at that second, earning their attention. Wooyoung internally clams up, wanting nothing else than to just go home.

"Choi San, I'm so glad I finally got to speak to you tonight," the woman speaks.

"Same here," San relays politely, though the anxiety in his eyes is prevalent.

"And you must be Jung Wooyoung," the lady continues, ushering a warm smile Wooyoung's way. "You're quite the looker, if I may say so myself. Though San-ssi never provided me with any portfolios, I trusted he had a good eye since he and Hongjoong have worked with my models a few times."

Wooyoung's frustration dissipates, and confusion seeps through. He stares at San for an explanation, but the older's frozen still, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"He said you've got a unique set of eyes, so I guess you must've covered them up tonight," the woman continues. Her hazel eyes light up with surprise. "Oh -- forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kang Mirae, head of Interstellar, a modeling agency."

For a moment, it's like everything slows down, rendering Wooyoung unable to move. But soon enough, he regains his spirit, his confusion twisting into something more ferocious. More livid.

Before he knows it, he's outside of the villa and running towards the parking lot, hands in his hair as his world crumbles to pieces.

San's yelling his name, hugging him close, but Wooyoung isn't having it.

"Don't touch me," he hisses, glaring at the older man. San's expression shatters, eyes overwhelmed, but it does nothing to him. "Leave me alone."

"W-Wooyoung, please," San begs, making another attempt to reach out for the younger. "I was going to tell you, I swear I was. I -- I just didn't know she'd be here today. Fuck. I-I thought you'd be okay with it."

"You thought I'd be okay with it without asking me for my input or my permission?" Wooyoung knows he's probably overreacting, but with every single thought he has and every single word Lee Haechan uttered tonight, he feels this close to exploding altogether. "Did I ever tell you I wanted to model? No I did not. But there you go again, doing shit without asking for my opinion. But of course -- you can do whatever you want, right? You have it all, while I'm nothing in comparison to you."

All the blood drains from San's face, his eyes filling with tears. "How..." he inhales, sorrow echoing off his voice, "how can you say something like that to me? How can you say that after everything I've done for you? How dare you."

"No! How dare you, Choi San. How dare you!" Wooyoung knows he should stop, but he can't. He's hurt too. He's fucking hurt and he's mad and he's in pain. So much pain.

"Met someone named Lee Haechan tonight. Said he used to date you."

Wooyoung doesn't know how exactly he expects San to react to his words, but the despondent, crushed look in the man's eyes tighten the knots in his stomach. He feels like he's suffocating.

"He -- he said a lot of things about you too," Wooyoung adds, because a part of him just wants San to deny again and again that they were never involved with each other, so that maybe -- just maybe -- Wooyoung can feel a lot less repulsed by himself. But, San continues to stay silent, confirming his worst fears.

"His words, I must admit, really fucked with my head," Wooyoung whispers, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. "I-In fact, I can't stop thinking about them. No matter how fucking hard I try not to."

An uncontrollable sob escapes him right then, and then he's pushing his palm over his mouth to muffle the sound, wanting the ground to just open up and swallow him.

For some reason, as soon as he feels San's arms around his body, his comforting floral scent drowning out everything else, Wooyoung further breaks apart, wanting to just die.

"Whatever thoughts he put in your head, erase them." San hugs him tighter, and it worsens his guilt, considering everything he'd just said to him. "That's what he does; he ruins things. I'm sorry I left you alone and made you run into him. I'm so sorry."

Wooyoung can't stop tearing up, however, and he hates it. "I want to go home."

"I'll go with you," San lets go, only to pull out his phone. He doesn't look much better than Wooyoung does, his eyes and nose red and his cheeks tinged with pink. "I'll call Mr Kim."

Look what you did. Ruining his night like you ruined your parents' marriage. Wooyoung takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No. Stay here with Hongjoong hyung and everyone else. You deserve to spend your New Year's happy."

"I want to spend New Year's with you."

"No, San," Wooyoung shakes his head. "Being with me will just spoil your mood. Look at you right now, crying because of me. Please, let me not ruin even more of your night."

But San doesn't listen. Instead, he presses his phone to his ears when the call goes through, instructing Mr Kim to come pick them up.

Fortunately, Mr Kim doesn't take long to arrive, and Wooyoung immediately enters the car while San and Hongjoong discuss something outside.

His evil, despicable mind starts creating unreal scenarios at how close San and Hongjoong are, filling in blanks with pointless details that further trouble his already unstable thoughts. Jealousy, green and putrid festers within him, ripping apart his heart like a field of thorns.

And it hurts. So bad.

San eventually enters after a few minutes, not minding Mr Kim's presence as he engulfs Wooyoung in his arms and kisses his temple, but the younger's mind is already far, far away.

He'll make you feel special and loved; spoil you silly. But, then he'll get bored, wondering why he ever liked you in the first place.

* * *

a/n: thoughts?