cw: implied mature content

* * *

《 if you could only see
what i see when i look
at you 》

The ride to San's house is a silent one, and for once Wooyoung doesn't want it. Yet, he doesn't utter a single word as the minutes pass by, not knowing what else to say to San who's still holding him close, head pressed against his.

Once Mr Kim parks in front of the house, San unbuckles both their seatbelts and gently leads Wooyoung out of the car, arms snug around his waist. The younger doesn't reject his touch, but he doesn't relax into it either, keeping quiet until San ushers him away from the frigid winter air and into the more cozy indoors.

"I'm gonna go turn on the electric fireplace," San begins with a slight clear of the throat, his voice a remnant of the tears he's shed. He lets Wooyoung go and searches frantically for the remote, only to stop in his tracks and stare at the younger through widened eyes. "Or -- or maybe we can turn the heater on in my room? Or your room. That's fine too." He walks up to Wooyoung, the remote squeezed in his hand. "Any suggestion's fine."

Wooyoung detests how anxious and extra careful San's being around him, beating himself up for it because it's none other than his fault. He's the one who decided that acting overdramatic and stupidly emotional was worth messing up a night that was supposed to end well. It's New Year's Eve, for crying out loud, and yet, he just feels miserable.

He guesses he must've kept his mouth closed for too long, because San shifts nearer and cautiously runs his fingers down his hair, worry embedded in his steady stare. It's like second nature how Wooyoung leans in, comforted by how soft and safe the older's hands are.

"...We have about two hours before the year ends. We can huddle up in bed and watch a movie or something," San suggests with a small smile.

When Wooyoung looks at him, all he can see is him screaming at the man and the wretched, crestfallen look in his eyes. It makes Wooyoung feel even worse about himself.

"Or we can talk. About whatever," San continues. His smile hasn't dropped, but there's a strained hilt in his tone, one which forces them to acknowledge the unspoken elephant in the room. "Enjoy each other's company."

It kind of hurts how bad San's trying to act as if everything is back to normal, worsening Wooyoung's guilt. The way he's fussing over Wooyoung, holding him close as if he's done nothing wrong drives the younger nuts, because he's well aware he doesn't deserve it.

He just keeps fucking things up.

Wooyoung doesn't speak up when San pulls the tuxedo down his arms, his warm fingers burning into his skin as he softly tugs off the black bowtie as well. He avoids the older's stare throughout, the intimacy prevalent in San's touches forcing his breath out of him.

"Say something..." San's voice is hushed, weaving its way into the folds of Wooyoung's tainted, bruised heart. "It's -- it's making me anxious. I know I've done bad, and...and I don't want to do anything that'll hurt you anymore. So please," San stares directly into Wooyoung's saddened eyes, "let me know I'm doing okay. T-That you still want me."

I want you, San. I want you so much it's driving me crazy, Wooyoung thinks, but his tongue's like lead, mind cluttered with each and every word he'd heard tonight. He fucking hates how affected he is over everything, and the most frustrating part's that he has no idea how to stop or get rid of the self-deprecating thoughts festering inside him. He's tired of it all; so, so tired.

Wooyoung flinches when San's hand cradles his cheek, cursing himself at how San stiffens due to his reaction. "I still like you," he says a bit offhandedly, and winces at the melancholy shadowing San's features. He inhales deeply. "I'm sorry."

A small, careful part of him feels like all this -- all of San's love and affection, his warmth and his touches and his kisses -- won't be worth it in the end; that the kind of relationship they have won't last. Not because they aren't compatible, but because they simply aren't meant to be together.

He sees it in San's elegance, his position in society, his affluence. He's so much better than Wooyoung in every single way.

This thought doesn't leave; instead, it grows, spreading like poison in his veins and contaminating whatever's left of his happiness. Unwanted tears prick his eyes, but he blinks them away.

"I'm sorry too," San says, looking down at his and Wooyoung's hands. Breathing in a shaky breath, he interlocks their fingers. "Since it's something you don't want, I'll let Mirae know you aren't interested in the deal. A-And, I'll get rid of whatever else you don't want, hm? Tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

San's thumb runs along the slope of Wooyoung's knuckles, and the younger shivers at the contact. How he longs to just forget about the shitfest that was tonight, pull the older close and hug him until there's nothing else on their minds but each other, but all he can do is stay still, drowning in self-contempt. He no longer feels like himself.

At last, after the prolonged silence and San's thoughtful brown eyes get to him, Wooyoung feels himself look up, taking in the older's stare almost immediately.

"San, I..." Wooyoung begins, the guilt shredding him apart on the inside at the way San visibly hangs on to his every word. "I want to take a bath."

His words come as a surprise for both men, and Wooyoung's eyes enlarge as a result, not really knowing why he chose to blurt that out instead of something else. A shameful flush blooms over his cheeks, and he takes a step back, shaking his head.

"Uh," he chuckles, but it's mirthless, "I seriously don't know why the hell I said that. Ignore it."

San looks unconvinced, however, a flicker of a smile growing on his face. "I'm pretty sure you want one, judging by the way you're blushing."

San's obviously glad he's found a way to get Wooyoung more comfortable, and Wooyoung wouldn't have minded it if it wasn't causing him so much embarrassment.

"Nah," he refutes the older's statement. "I'm perfectly okay -- "

"To the bathtub we go!" San places his hands on his shoulders and turns him around, leaning close to his neck. And Wooyoung's breath fucking hitches, especially at the sight of one of San's rare smirks on display. "Luckily for you, I happen to be well-versed on everything that has to do with bathing."

"Wait, San -- " Wooyoung argues, but San's already dragging him up the spiralling staircase, excited squeals escaping his lips. In an instant, all his intended arguments fade away, replaced by this floaty fuzziness that crashes upon his chest like a lightning bolt. And it's something only Choi San makes him feel. Fuck.

"I don't even know how I hadn't thought about it before," San rambles, hands flying over and unbuttoning the last of Wooyoung's waistcoat. His eyes linger on the younger's chest for a second, causing Wooyoung to swallow. "Like -- baths are supposed to be relaxing, right? And they also clean you up."

Wooyoung just nods, his words failing him as San's nimble hands undress him inside the enormous white tiled bathroom. The cold air nips at his exposed upper body, and he rubs his arms while San rushes towards the tub at the left-hand corner, drawing up the bath.

"Are... are you bathing too?" Wooyoung asks San after taking off his contacts, who's now setting the bath oils and soap in place. With the older's back to him, he swiftly rids himself of the rest of his clothing and covers his body with one of the folded bathrobes, even when San has seen him nude before. It's cozy, and automatically lessens the goosebumps scattered across his skin.

San looks at him, and hell, Wooyoung's once more struck by how attractive the man is. Despite their lowly lit surroundings, he shines as bright as ever, and the smile he shoots Wooyoung right then causes his poor heart to nearly pop out of his chest.

"My main priority here is you, Woo," San says, and Wooyoung's heart races to dangerous speeds. "Unless..." he tilts his head, his grin far too innocent for the words he utters next. "Unless you won't mind me joining you?"

Wooyoung fiddles with his cotton bathrobe, San's gaze on his face and body heating him to the core. He gulps. "I mean, I don't know."

"It's alright. I just want to make sure you're satisfied tonight."

"You can join me." Okay, Wooyoung doesn't know exactly why he says that out loud, but he guesses it has something to do with how San's words make him remember the horrible way he treated him earlier.

San's eyes lighten with surprise, bit it isn't negative. He adjusts the frilly choker around his neck -- and maybe it's the darkness playing tricks on Wooyoung's brain -- but he swears he sees San smile to himself at that moment.

San stands, and the butterflies infesting Wooyoung's stomach become alive. Stop freaking out.

"Thank you." San keeps his eyes on Wooyoung the entire time he takes off his own clothes, though the redness coating his ears and neck betray that Wooyoung's stares affect him as much as his affect the younger.

When every single one of San's clothes are removed, Wooyoung can't help the way his eyes rake down his bare body. Shadows dance over every rippling muscle, further highlighting his milky skin. Wooyoung bites his lip, a little flustered.

San laughs, quiet and endearing, as he lessens the space between him and the younger. It isn't long before his face is so close their noses graze, and Wooyoung shuts his eyes, readying himself for the older's lips on his.

Only...San doesn't make the move. A glance upon his features reveals his nervousness, and the shame bubbling in Wooyoung's gut threatens to eat him alive. This is nothing but his fault. San's being like this because of what you did to him, you idiot.

The want for approval simmers in San's dark eyes, complementing the almost shy smile tugging at his lips, and Wooyoung can't take it anymore.

He lets his hands wrap around San's neck and takes the plunge by bringing their lips together. The older's response is instantaneous; he leans in and quickly deepens the kiss, fingers digging into the curve of Wooyoung's waist. When San slants his head, his warm tongue slipping sensually into the younger's mouth, Wooyoung loses his breath, melting into him like he's his saviour; his sole lifeline.

"Jesus, Woo..." San exhales, lips planting feather-light kisses down Wooyoung's jaw. "I like you so much. You're so beautiful." He drags his palm along the shorter's spine, and Wooyoung kisses him again, San's compliments igniting the bravery he never knew he had.

San, like always, gives in to him all too eagerly, and a type of haughtiness sneaks into Wooyoung right then. Because, at that moment, he's the one kissing San, not anybody else. He's the one San cares so much for, and he's the one under San's simcere attention. No matter the sort of relationship Lee Haechan had with San before, Wooyoung's the one who San likes now.

Choi San will quickly fall hard for you, and he'll fall out of love just as easily.

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut, willing those words out of his head. His breathing shallows, flames engulfing his heart at the feeling of San's tender lips on his collarbone.

"We should bathe before the water runs cold," Wooyoung forces out, lungs aching for more air. It's pathetic how much power San has over him, and the worst part's that he actually doesn't mind it.

San smiles down at Wooyoung, pushing his hand through his hair. Pleasant shivers topple down Wooyoung's spine. "Yeah, of course. Kinda got carried away."

An easy smile settles on Wooyoung's face, and he blushes when San's smile immediately widens. "Okay."

Wooyoung looks down at the squeaky clean tiles, heartbeat pounding in his ears at what he's about to do. It's stupid to feel this way, he reasons, considering San's currently naked and they've already familiarized themselves with each other's bodies. Still, a wave of anxiety's crashing on top of him, especially with San's eyes on him like this.

San notices; of course he does. "Are you okay?"

Wooyoung swallows, loosening his robe until it falls down his shoulders. "I'm fine."

He's well aware of how his body appears, an outcome of years spent watching what he ate and the quantities in which he consumed them. He isn't overweight or out of shape, but he is thin, and standing in front of San who looks as majestic as ever, he feels nothing other than inadequate.

San takes the robe and places it elsewhere, and Wooyoung can't help but stare at at the man, something wicked in him wanting to find some kind of tick, some kind of frown or dissatisfaction that confirms San sees him the way he sees himself.

But, he sees nothing of that. As San leads him to the bathtub, all that's present on his expression is this deep fondness and devotion that makes Wooyoung's head spin. He's not used to it; doesn't know how to react.

The water's fortunately warm, sloshing against Wooyoung's legs as he settles himself in. It smells nice too, something like aromatic raspberry cloaking his senses. San heads in after him, and sits in front so that they're facing each other.

"Have you ever bathed with anyone before?" Is what San decides to ask. His sudden question draws a nervous laugh out of Wooyoung.

"Weird question," he starts, but shakes his head, smoothing his fingers across the soapy surface of the water. "I haven't. At least -- not before you."

"I'm glad to be your first."

Wooyoung chuckles, ears hot at the wide grin San flashes him. "That's cheesy."

San shrugs, shifting a bit closer. "Have you ever taken a bath before?"

"What are these questions?"

San giggles, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Shh, just answer it."

"Yes, I have."

Wooyoung keeps his gaze on San as he reaches for the loofah beside him. He gains an idea of the man's intention right then, and a stupid blush darkens his ears and cheeks. "What...what are you planning to do?"

"Bathe you?" San chews his lip. "I mean -- my dad did it when I was a little kid and was stubborn about cleaning myself. I ended up liking it, although I never admitted it to anyone. Mostly because it's embarrassing." He chuckles at this, Wooyoung soon joining him. "It also comforted me a lot; cleared my mind."

"I can see there's a bunch of things you're thinking about, and that's something I want to help you with," San continues, coating the loofah with the bathing soap. The lavender scent fills the atmosphere, soothing Wooyoung's joints. San sees this, and laughs. "Nice, huh?"

Wooyoung nods, his pulse racing when the older male slowly lathers his arms with the soap. It's weirdly relaxing, and he doesn't oppose to it since he likes it. Makes him feel like a child again.

San rubs the loofah over his chest, leaving a trail of nice smelling soap in its wake. "Dad also told me several stories to get me to concentrate when I was acting up. Sometimes, he even sang a couple nursery rhymes. Can't really remember them, but they sounded nice."

Wooyoung observes the nostalgic look on San's face as he recalls the past, and he doesn't know why his words make him feel a bit sad. "Your dad seems like a good person."

San pauses, a somber smile peeking through. "Yeah..." He answers, closing in the distance between him and Wooyoung to clean his back as cautiously as he can. His kind, almost motherly action fills Wooyoung's stomach with knots, enlarging the lump in his throat. "He was a great person..."

"Was?" Wooyoung asks before he can think better of it and hurriedly shuts his mouth, eyes widened. "Oh -- I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." San's eyes are someplace else, somewhere Wooyoung doesn't think he can ever reach. "My dad... Well, he's still alive."

Wooyoung exhales, relief seeping into him. "Oh." San's serious demeanor worries him however. "That's good."

Stop talking, he internally yells, wanting to hit himself.

San smiles, but it's not as genuine as the others. "Mhm."

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung decides to ask.

"Yeah." San turns his head to the side, but it takes less than a second for Wooyoung to spot the tears in his eyes.

Wooyoung's at a loss for what to do, but he knows he's got to do something. So, instead of overthinking it more than he has to, he adjusts himself in the bathtub, folding his knees up to his chest. San's eyes stay on him as he takes the loofah and drenches it with more soap, smoothing it over San's chest.

"I'll take care of you now," he states, before booping the older's nose with his index finger. He sniggers as he bursts the bubble left on it.

"Woo..."

"No arguments," Wooyoung tuts. "I'll wash you and make you super clean."

"Now that you said it like that, it sounds really strange."

Wooyoung tuts at the man again, grinning at the way San shudders under his hands when they run over his scar. For a moment, he wonders if he shouldn't have done that, but San grins back at him as bright as ever.

San groans just as Wooyoung lightly smacks his pectoral muscles. "Ow. What was that for?"

"Why are they so hard?"

"Shut up." San laughs, but his ears are beet red.

"No, seriously," Wooyoung presses, now focused on cleaning down the older's torso. He totally doesn't ogle his abs. Totally. "I've never seen you exercise once during my stay here. How are you so muscular?"

San chuckles, only for it to turn into a childish whine when Wooyoung slaps his hand away as soon as he attempts touching his face. "I've simply been blessed by the sacred God of Abs."

"Hyung, be serious."

"I exercise whenever I'm unable to sleep at night," San explains, a content sigh leaving him at how Wooyoung scrubs him with as much care as he can muster. "So, when you're in your room, I just head out and go to the gym inside the house."

"You have a gym?" Wooyoung can't hide his shock.

"Yeah...? It's the room at the end of the hall," San answers. He yelps when the younger man smacks him again. "Wooyoung."

Said male cackles, only for him to stop at how soft San's expression gets.

"Keep laughing," San says, enamoured. "I like it when you laugh."

Wooyoung ignores him, holding the older's hand to wash it as well. His heart races when San entwines their fingers without a moment's hesitation. "San."

"Wooyoung-ah." Wooyoung's toes curl as San kisses their knuckles, unmindful of the bubbles.

There's a twinkle in San's eyes when Wooyoung gulps. Wanting to distract himself, he heads for the man's freckled neck to soap it up.

"I like you," San confesses, and Wooyoung's stomach twists.

"Me too." Wooyoung fears he looks something like a ripened tomato right now. San kissing his hand again further confirms this theory. "I-I'll wash your hair."

"Really?" San beams.

"Yep."

"But what about yours?"

Wooyoung wriggles his slick fingers, watching the iridescent bubbles separate and pop. "I've washed my hair recently, so I don't need to do it again."

"Oh." San appears disappointed, but it vanishes as soon as Wooyoung grabs the shampoo bottle, pretending to read over its contents in order to calm his harsh heartbeat.

Sweet apple drifts along the bathroom walls when Wooyoung squeezes some of the shampoo out into his palm, before slowly massaging the liquid into San's scalp. At first, it feels kind of odd to be doing this to someone who's technically his higher-up -- and it feels a little maternal as well, but before long, Wooyoung gets used to the feel of San's head and long dark hair under his palms.

And San, well, San is living.

It catches Wooyoung so off-guard at the unrestrained joy practically shooting out of San. Wooyoung often finds himself having to hold him in place because his excitement's just too much, but his giggles and ecstatic squeals leave the younger with a big smile.

"I love this so much," San comments, his voice far more high-pitched than before. Wooyoung wonders if he's now entered little space. "I love Wooyoungie so much."

"Yeah, yeah," Wooyoung chuckles, though his breathing stutters at San's words. He rakes his fingers down to the nape of his hair, his insides warming up at the sound of San's lovely giggles.

"Does Wooyoungie love Sannie back?"

Wooyoung freezes, and makes the mistake of staring at San at that moment. The older has the most brilliant smile on his face, his adorable dimples out in the open, and Wooyoung suddenly doesn't know how he can ever say no to someone like him.

Wooyoung pokes one of San's dimples even when his heart's going crazy on the inside. He's so fucked. "Wooyoungie... he loves Sannie too."

San's smile broadens, and he claps in delight. "I'm so happy."

Wooyoung is too -- a lot -- and it's an emotion he's learning to accept just because of San.

You don't deserve happiness.

Wooyoung shoves the raspy, feminine voice into the back of his mind, determined not to think about it now.

You don't deserve anything. The only thing you're good at is being a disappointment.

Wooyoung busies himself with rinsing San's hair and body with the showerhead, but even that doesn't free him from the heavy shackles of his mother's words.

"Is Wooyoungie okay?" San asks, eyes glossed over with concern.

"Wooyoungie is fine," Wooyoung replies, but he's pretty sure San doesn't believe him. He sighs, before adding, "We should get dried up before it's New Year's."

San nods, and before long, the tub is drained and San is ridding Wooyoung's body of the last bits of soap and bath oils, leaving his skin freshened and glistening.

"You have a nice body," San remarks, and despite his honesty and their current states, his words are pure. Childlike. "You're so pretty, Wooyoungie."

Wooyoung wants to kiss him, so he does. And San kisses back, curling his fingers into his damp hair. He smells so good, just like he always does, and for once, Wooyoung wants to sleep in his arms and not have to worry about anything ever again.

San bites Wooyoung's lower lip, sneaky hands snaking into his thighs, and the heat in the air heightens, electrifying him further.

"We -- we should get dressed up," Wooyoung whispers, not really feeling like letting go.

"I love Wooyoungie," San admits once more into the crook of the younger's neck.

Wooyoung's knees nearly buckle. "I'm glad."

"I really mean it."

"Okay."

Thankfully, San doesn't spout anymore confessions fuelled by nothing other than his impulse, and Wooyoung's able to dry them up and dress them in colourful pjs and fuzzy slippers, courtesy of San's request.

He asks the older to check the time on his phone, but as soon as he says that, San types something in and then there's soft, sensuous music echoing throughout the sitting room, startling him to bits.

San laughs, picking up the bluetooth speaker beside the TV that Wooyoung somehow missed. "It's coming from here."

Wooyoung's stomach flips when San body rolls at a pace far too seductive considering what he's wearing. He gulps, feeling very much like a prude when he averts his eyes. "I need the time, hyung."

San laughs good-naturedly, a smirk making its way over his lips as he waltzes over to Wooyoung, doing yet another body roll to the melodious, bassy tune. "11:24 PM, babe."

Wooyoung's face grows hot. "What are you doing?"

"Dancing." San moves closer, and just by Wooyoung staring at him -- at his hips, rather -- he feels like he's sinning. "C'mon, you should totally dance with me."

"I can't dance," Wooyoung answers, wanting to head towards the kitchen. But San stops him in his tracks with his arms now tightly wrapped around him.

"I'm sure you're kidding," San chuckles, swaying them side to side.

Wooyoung's breath hitches when he feels San's hand sliding inside his shirt. "I'm not -- I'm not good at dancing. I'm really not."

"Just follow my lead," San assures, breath fanning the younger's ear. A part of Wooyoung wants to refuse this altogether, not at all fond of dancing to anything tonight, but another part of him, the much bigger part, decides to listen to San.

He stiffly nods. "Alright."

Wooyoung's never envisioned himself ever dancing so intimately with someone, and honestly he only thought that only worked in the movies, but as San twirls him around just to draw him near, moving them to the mysterious, alluring beat of the song, Wooyoung admits he can get used to this.

A minute passes and the bridge enters, bringing about a sense of urgency. I want you. All of you, is displayed in San's grip on his waist, his lips kissing his neck, and his hips. The way he grinds on him makes Wooyoung feel like the sexiest person alive.

And so is San. San is so fucking sexy, it's insane. He's dressed in freaking pyjamas, for Christ's sake, but dances like he's hell on earth.

San pushes Wooyoung against the wall and hikes his leg up, crotch pressed right against his, and it feels so good. If Hell's like this, he doesn't ever want to go to Heaven.

But then the song stops and silence ripples through the air.

"That song's one of my favourites," San says like it's nothing, and fuck, Wooyoung hates the disheartening chill that envelopes him when San lets him go. "Very nice beat. Its lyrics are fantastic too."

Wooyoung pats his cheeks, not even surprised at how warm they are. "What's the name?" He mutters.

"Desire." San walks over to the bluetooth speaker, and younger's discouragement grows too big to ignore.

Come back. Wooyoung needs him to return.

"I should play another song," San says, oblivious to his inner turmoil. "Or maybe we can watch something fun before the year ends. Is there a show you want -- "

"Fuck me."

San blinks at him, wide-eyed. His mouth drops. "W-What?"

Wooyoung stares at the tiles below his feet, but even with this, he hears San approaching him. His heart skips a beat. "...Have sex with me." He looks up at the older man, noting the vivid blush colouring his neck. "I want you to."

"Like -- like now?" San stammers, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Wooyoung nods. He tugs on the older's sleeve. "Yeah. Now."

San doesn't hesitate, pulling Wooyoung into his room a moment later.

Wooyoung doesn't know how he starts the night feeling insecure, sobbing and verbally fighting with San, to ending up in his bed just hours later, under him, but he doesn't mind it at all. Not when San's satiating all that he craves.

With every thrust, Wooyoung breaches cloud nine. San is loving and passionate, pounding into him and filling him up so well, and Wooyoung doesn't feel like someone who's just lost something. Instead, he feels like he's gained a sense of wholeness; of finally connecting with someone in a way he's never done before. For the first time ever, he feels completely bare, laid down and utterly vulnerable beneath San and trusting the man to take care of him. He commits the entirety of himself into San's hands, hoping with all his might that he cherishes his heart and doesn't let it go.

"I love you," San says for the third time tonight in a haze of heart-aching kisses and breathy moans, and this time, it gets through to Wooyoung.

And this time, Wooyoung doesn't answer back.

* * *

a/n: what is this chapter? idk nan molla
thoughts?