Chapter Text
"Promise me something." His mother voices into the silent living room, settling down next to Wooyoung with a glass of vodka. She gestures to his soda with the glass. "Want some?"
"Sure." He shrugs, holding out his glass for her to pour some of her own into. "What is it?"
"Promise me you'll never fall in love." She fumbles with her cigarette, lighting one in the already hazy living room.
"Don't worry." A sixteen year old Wooyoung shakes his head. "I won't."
"It doesn't do anybody any good. It ruins your spirit, Wooyoung. It destroys everything it touches."
"Like it did with you?" Wooyoung challenges, sipping his drink.
"You have an evil in you." She ignores his statement to throw one back, staring him in the face. "In your eyes, a darkness. You get that from your father. You wouldn't love somebody right, you don't have it in you."
Wooyoung sighs. "So I've noticed. Don't worry about me. Love won't be a problem." And with that he gets up and away, from the conversation, from his mother's hateful gaze. Drink in his hand a promise he'd make sure to keep.
•••
It's not often he gets up this early. It's not even noon yet when he gets to San and Seonghwa's place, prepared to find a still sleeping San and crawl into the bed with him. What he hadn't expected was to find San at the kitchen table. A small glass with what looks to be water but on closer inspection must be vodka. If the bottle next to it is anything to go off of. Three quarters of it gone.
"Uhm..." he frowns as he shakes his coat off his shoulders, hanging it over one of the chairs. "Hey, San?"
The room is cold, one of the windows cracked wide open. A dopey smile tugs at San's lips. "Wooyoung."
"What the hell are you doing up drinking at 10 in the morning?"
"It's 10 in the morning?" His tongue sounds fat, his blinks slow. San drinks often. But San is not drunk often. Wooyoung's seen him tipsy more times than he can count. But barely ever does San actually get wasted. At the end of parties San is often the most sober one out of all their friends. And the one barely ever having to deal with hangovers. He drinks responsibly, although too frequently. So it's quite jarring to find him like this.
"Yeah, it is. Did the sun coming up not give that away?" He walks across the room to close the window, cranking up the heater.
San shrugs, "hadn't noticed."
"But that doesn't answer my question. Why are you up at 10AM drinking?"
"Still up." He admits quietly, taking another sip from his glass. "Hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Or, how early, I suppose."
"Don't you have school later today?"
"I'm sick."
"No you're not." Wooyoung snatches the bottle off the table, putting it away in one of the cupboards.
"I will be."
"Yeah, you will. What the fuck are you doing?"
"Uhm, adult things? Because I can?"
"You call this adult things?"
"I guess..." San shrugs again. "I don't know."
"San, why are you drinking?"
"I think it was you who told me we don't need a reason to drink." San points a finger at him before taking another sip, nearing the bottom of his glass. "Wasn't it?"
"Yeah. And I think it was you who said that just because we don't need a reason doesn't mean we don't have one." He throws it right back in his face, and San doesn't seem to be able to argue that. "Is this about your mom?"
San nods with his lips pursed, not necessarily agreeing, more so acknowledging. "What makes you think that?"
"I don't know, maybe the fact that it happened a few days ago, you sobbed a bunch and now you're getting wasted which you don't do. Not usually. All back to back."
"That's a good theory." San smiles and then he starts giggling. "You've got me all figured out, don't you? You know every little thing about me? Is that what you think?"
"I'd like to think I know you."
"Barely." San chuckles humourlessly before throwing back the last of his glass. "There's so much you don't know, Wooyoung. And I can't even tell you. Because you won't want to be around me anymore. And I don't like the thought of that."
Wooyoung grabs San's now empty glass, filling it up with water this time before setting it back down. "I didn't know we were keeping secrets."
"You've made it that way."
Wooyoung nods in defeat, pulling out a chair so he can take a seat right across from San. "Okay. Care to share? Promise I won't run away."
San immediately shakes his head and sips from his glass again, probably not even noticing the liquid in it has changed. "Not now. Maybe not ever. But especially not now, when I'm drunk."
"Alright." He plays with a receipt that Seonghwa must've left on the table, running the paper through his fingers. "Should I be worried?"
"No. Not about yourself at least."
"About you?"
"I didn't know you cared enough to worry about me."
Wooyoung frowns at that, taken aback. "What makes you think that? I feel like I've shown I care."
"Yeah. Too much, and then too little. And then too much again, then not enough. It's hard to keep up."
"I do care."
"About me?"
"I didn't know you doubted that."
"Like I said. There's plenty you don't know about me."
"There's a lot you don't know about me either." Wooyoung counters, a little shaken by how open drunk San apparently is.
"Yeah. I'm aware. I've been aware."
Wooyoung raises his brows, feeling his forehead wrinkle. "Are you angry with me?"
"I'm not." San sighs, swaying in his seat as he presses his knuckles into his eyes. "Maybe it is about my mom. Not only, but mainly."
"It's okay if it's about me."
"Not everything is about you."
"Okay..." Wooyoung swallows thickly, looking around the room awkwardly. "See this makes me think maybe you are angry with me."
"You don't like honesty, do you?" San observes, leaning his elbows on the table. "You like dancing around it."
"It's less harsh that way."
"Easier to ignore?"
"Maybe. Maybe just a bit less hurtful."
"Did I hurt you? Just now?" San's head tilts to the side, and the way he questions him feels like a therapist to a patient. Wooyoung feels trapped, in a big chair in a big office with an intimidating doctor in front of him.
He shakes his head. "You didn't."
"Could I?"
At that he chuckles, trying to lighten the air. "Sure, if you punched me in the face or something."
"That's not what I meant, you know it. Mentally."
"Why? Do you want to?"
"Sometimes. Maybe. I don't know." He shrugs casually, like this isn't weird.
"Why?"
"One of those things I shouldn't talk about right now..." He rotates his glass to swirl the water inside of it. "You hurt me... Sometimes. I guess I'm just curious if I still hold some power."
"When do I hurt you?" San doesn't respond verbally, merely gestures locking his lips and throwing away the key, drunkenly giggling at himself. "I don't mean to."
"Sure you don't." San gets up to put his glass away, finally bored of the water. "That's just the kind of person you are."
"The fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what I just said. You're destructive, unintentionally."
"What the fuck is your problem right now?" Wooyoung stands back up as well, turning to look at where San is leaning against the counter. "Why are you being such an asshole?"
"It's the vodka." He laughs again, rubbing his hands over his face. "My bad. Makes me confrontational."
"You're not being confrontational you're just being mean. You're not confronting me about shit because you won't even tell me what this is about."
"It's better this way."
"Sure as hell doesn't feel great."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." San takes a few steps, grabbing onto Wooyoung's hands. "Wasn't trying to be rude."
"Well you were."
"Is it rude to be truthful?"
"It can be." Wooyoung nods, yet he offers a squeeze to San's hands. "I'm not trying to hurt you."
"I told you I already know that. That's why I don't hold it against you."
"But you wanna hurt me back."
"I was wondering if I could. There's a difference."
This is a conversation too intense to have this early the morning, Wooyoung is ready to get back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. "You could. You already have."
San looks somewhat surprised to hear that. "When?" Wooyoung just reciprocates the gesture San had earlier. Locking his lips and throwing away the key. "I don't think we should be hurting each other."
"That's just life. That's what happens, we're humans. We do shitty things. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not."
"Did I hurt you last week?" San's still playing with Wooyoung's hands, drawing circles with his thumb on his palm. "What I said, when we got home."
It's a vague description but Wooyoung knows what he's referring to. San had asked back then too if he had hurt Wooyoung with his words, and he had lied in response. I don't know how else to make you stay. "A bit."
"I didn't mean it."
"You must've a little bit. Or the thought wouldn't have been in your head."
"Maybe a little. But not because of you, just because of me. It's a me thing. I wasn't trying to insult you."
"But I think with my track record you can imagine why you did. Insult me, I mean."
"Not on purpose."
"I told you, that's just being human. Sometimes we're shitty but not on purpose. I know I am."
"So you forgive me?"
"I was never angry at you." Wooyoung frowns, San looks exhausted. "Even if you did mean to insult me I wouldn't have blamed you."
"That wouldn't have been true though. Sex is not the only thing you care about."
"It is a little."
"Not with me."
"No, not with you." Wooyoung smiles and San returns it. "We're friends. So it's different."
The movements of San's thumb falter for a second, nodding carefully. He sighs and pulls away. "I guess sometimes we do just hurt people without meaning to."
"What's wrong?" Wooyoung's brows crease with worry, following after San as he walks to the other side of the table.
"I'm just really tired. And kind of really wasted." His hair gets pushed around for the nth time. "Do you wanna take a nap with me?"
"A nap? I think you need a full 10 hours of sleep right now, San."
"You're right, and then we'll wake in time for dinner. Do you wanna get Chinese food? I've been having this craving but Seonghwa's been busy."
"Don't you have to call school?"
"Later." San smiles and grabs one of Wooyoung's hands to pull him along to the bedroom. "Nap with me."
Wooyoung giggles as he gets dragged down the hall. "I just woke up."
"Well then watch a movie. As long as you cuddle me in the meantime."
"Fine." Wooyoung rolls his eyes while San closes the door behind them, turning to face Wooyoung. He leans in for a quick kiss. "That I can do."
Every one of their arguments gets reeled back in just enough for them to continue acting civil. But nothing gets solved, not truly.
•••
"Is this a fucking eviction notice?" Wooyoung picks up the envelope off the counter, staring at it in disbelief.
"Yep." Yunho snatches it out of his hands, crumbling it up without a care and throwing it into a far corner.
"Why? What happened!?"
"Well," Mingi is speaks up matter of factly, joint between his lips. "My guess is the fact that we haven't been paying the bills? But who knows."
"Why haven't you been paying your bills?"
"Because somebody lost his job." Yunho pulls out a beer for the both of them, his white shirt sporting numerous dubious stains. "And there's only so many utilities you can take away from a person before you get to the house itself."
Wooyoung's frown deepens with every word spoken, glancing at Mingi. "Well, why did you lose your job?"
"He fucked a waiter. In the kitchen, after hours."
"Okay-" Mingi points a finger at his roommate. "Technically, the waiter fucked me."
"Okay, technically your technicality doesn't get us our fucking house back so, uhm, I don't give a fuck."
"Why don't you just get a new job." Wooyoung's too thrown off to sip the beer in his hand, looking between the two tall men.
"It's not for lack of trying. I even tried to prostitute myself standing on a corner but everyone just thought I was a thug." Mingi sighs with a shake of his head. "It's tough out here."
Yunho actually starts laughing at that, though he doesn't sound very amused. "You stood on the corner of our street for a total of 20 minutes, an old man barely even looked in your direction and you walked back upstairs. Besides nobody is asking you to pimp yourself out. I'm asking you to get a fucking job."
"I'm trying! I have more interviews tomorrow but I'm trained for absolutely nothing. Maybe I'll just start dealing drugs."
"He's insane." Wooyoung turns to Yunho with wide eyes. "He's actually lost it."
"You're preaching to the fucking choir here, man."
"Well where are you gonna live?"
Yunho shrugs, emptying the rest of his can in a few big gulps. "There's this alley not too far up the road that looks pretty cozy."
"No fucking way." Mingi shakes his head vehemently. "I'm not sleeping there."
"Well, then maybe the next time a waiter offers to fuck you, decline?" Yunho replies sarcastically, very obviously fed up. "Besides, who said you were welcome in my alley? Get your own alley."
"Was the dick at least good?" Wooyoung turns to Mingi, he can't help himself asking.
Mingi shrugs, avoiding his eyes. "Not really. Didn't make me come."
"So you've lost your house over a mediocre dick that couldn't even get you to finish."
"Well when you put it like that-"
"No. There's no good fucking way to put it." Yunho gestures frantically. "There is literally no way to make this sound any less stupid than it is."
"I just wanted a fuck. How was I supposed to know the manager actually looks at the camera footage? If I had known I'd get caught I wouldn't have done it!"
"There's about 10 million people in prisons across the world thinking the same exact thing. But guess what, it doesn't fix anything." Yunho seems actually angry, which is surprisingly rare. While often annoyed, Yunho is not often angry. He can't really blame him though, he's about to get evicted.
"I'm pretty sure they're hiring at San's job." Wooyoung offers, hoping to calm the both of them down. "You know how to change bed sheets right? I can fix you an interview, maybe San will even put in a good word for you if you bat those pretty lashes at him."
"Wait really?" Mingi's eyes grow wide, jumping up off the couch and putting his joint in the ashtray. "I can do that! I can change sheets!"
"Yeah, see! And you can borrow some cash from Jongho to pay off what you need to now. I'm sure he doesn't mind, and you can pay him back later. He'd probably just give it to you to be honest. And you won't even have to prostitute yourself."
"Oh my god!" Mingi nods excitedly. "That could totally work!"
Wooyoung looks over to Yunho who slowly nods as well, hesitant expression still etched onto his face. "That does seem doable. If we can get them the money by tomorrow that should work."
"Oh, you!" Mingi takes Wooyoung's face between his large hands, planting an aggressive kiss on his lips. He pulls back with a laugh, shaking Wooyoung's body harshly. "You beautiful man."
"Oh-" Wooyoung startles back with a chuckle. "Just a thank you would've sufficed."
Mingi groans and lifts him up in a tight hug. Yunho flicks him in the head. "Stop sexually harassing our friend and call Jongho."
"Will do." Mingi gives the both of them an army greeting with his hand to his forehead before storming off to his bedroom.
"Sorry he just kissed you." Yunho chuckles, walking back into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder where Wooyoung finally takes a sip.
"Eh, it's fine." He shrugs, grinning back. "He's got nice lips."
"An even nicer tongue." The smile Yunho offers back is absolutely devilish and Wooyoung groans in disgust.
"That's just wrong, man."
"Thanks for the help." Yunho sighs, leaning back against the counter. "I was trying to come up with solutions but it was all just a bit... overwhelming, you know."
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Plus, you could've always crashed at my place. Or, you know, picked out a room in Jongho's house."
"Yeah, it's just, I'm 26 you know." He rubs his hands over his face. "I should be able to pay my own fucking rent."
"Life doesn't always work the way it's supposed to." Wooyoung shrugs, sipping his beer. "You guys will be fine."
Yunho purses his lips, nodding. "Thanks."
•••
"You look like a stalker." Yeosang interrupts Wooyoung's staring. "What the fuck are you doing? Just go up to him."
"He's fucking wasted." Wooyoung grumbles back, taking a sip of his own drink. He's been lingering in the kitchen for what feels like forever, watching San flirt with some guy in the hallway.
Yeosang moves his head closer with a frown after a few seconds like he's waiting for more. "So? I don't know if you've noticed this but you do love a drink or five."
"No, you don't get it this is like the second time this week. He doesn't usually drink like this, somethings wrong."
Yeosang makes the same motion again. "And...? Somethings wrong with all of us let's start there. And besides that I highly doubt brooding over here in the corner will solve much."
"I'm just worried this whole thing with his mom fucked him up. He was so sad, Yeosang. Just look at him."
Yeosang looks over at where San is giggling, brushing his hand down the stranger's chest. "He doesn't seem very sad to me?"
His best friend can be very eye roll inducing. "I'm just saying, he's struggling. I can tell, trust me you should've seen him the other day."
"Well, I don't know. He's just coping, we've all been there. Just be there for him when he's ready."
"I'm just worried. Besides that guy is being disgusting."
Now Yeosang's the one to roll his eyes. "You sure it's not just jealousy?"
"Jealo- it's not fucking jealousy. Okay, I'm worried. That's all."
"Okay, if you're so fucking worried just go over there. I'm sure he'd much rather be talking to you anyway."
Wooyoung shakes his head, stealing the cigarette Yeosang was about to light. "I'm not his babysitter."
"You are insufferable." Yeosang groans before stealing back his cigarette. "On so many levels."
"Yeah, fuck you too."
Yeosang offers him a sarcastic smile. "Thanks, babe. And by the way, I've known you for too long. This isn't your worried face. This is your jealous face."
"Jesus Christ, Yeosang. I'm not jealous, why would I be jealous?"
"Because it's San. And you're Wooyoung. And you guys are like, Wooyoung and San. You know."
"Saying a whole lot of nothing."
"You have the thickest skull known to mankind."
"Okay, and so what if I'm jealous." He steals Yeosang's cigarette from between his fingers for a drag. "It's just weird you know. It's San. Is it bad if I don't want to see anyone draped all over him?"
"Not bad. A bit selfish, yeah. But not weird. You guys are practically in a relationship."
"We are not." He shakes his head with a frown, this would be a nice time for the ground to swallow him up.
"I still don't understand why. You guys have every aspect of a relationship, expect the title."
"Because." Wooyoung states sternly. "If you do the relationship thing you have to do the love thing. And I can't do the love thing so I can't do the relationship thing. I could never love him so I can't ask him to only fuck me until the end of time. All I can do, is the casual friends with benefits thing. And with that comes watching him feel up a random guy right in front of me. That is life, those are the cards I've been dealt."
"You're lucky I love you so much or else I couldn't listen to one more second of this. It is physically painful to hear. And you might be the most smooth brained human being on the earth."
"Oh fuck off, will you?"
"In a few years, when you've regained your senses, and when with a bit of luck maybe your frontal lobe will have developed before the age of 37. You will see you owe me a big, fancy dinner for putting up with your bullshit for so long."
"Didn't you skip the relationship part and go straight to engaged?"
"Say what you want. I've got my shit figured out."
"Yeah, whatever." He hands the cigarette back over to Yeosang. "I wish I was normal."
"No you don't." Yeosang's scoffs, leaning his head against the wall as he takes a drag. "If you were normal you'd be so boring."
"No, I don't mean fully normal. I mean, like my heart. I wish I could just love like a regular human being. I wish I could not feel the urge to run through the wall whenever an ounce of romantic affection comes my way."
"So you do want to be with San?"
"No, no..." he groans and takes the cigarette back again. "I don't want to be with him. It's not like that. I just mean in general."
"So you don't want to be with him?"
"No. Not like that. I mean I care about him. You know that, he knows that. But I don't want to date him. It's just weird, watching him drool over someone else. A little jarring, that's all."
"You are a fucking imbecile. Did you know that?" Yeosang snatches his cigarette back and this time holds it out of Wooyoung's reach. He finally pushes himself off the wall so he can turn and look right at Wooyoung. "A fucking imbecile."
"Do I have the sweetest best friend or what?" Wooyoung replies with a sarcastic smile that drops just as quickly when he downs the rest of his drink.
"Best friends don't exist to be sweet. That's what you have normal friends for. Best friends exist to be real with you. To tell you the truth. And the truth is that you are a fucking imbecile."
"You're lucky you're cute. Or I would've punched you in the jaw."
"I would've liked to see you try." Yeosang straight up laughs in his face like the idea of Wooyoung trying to punch anybody was just too ridiculous to consider. "Now, I'm going to find my fiancé, and then after a dance I am going to go fuck him upstairs. Because I am happy and in love. Have fun."
"When did you become so functional?"
"A while ago, you were too busy fucking San to notice." Yeosang smiles cheekily as he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of Wooyoung's nose. "Have fun lurking in the corner for the rest of the night."
Wooyoung glances the other way, nodding along. "Alright. Get out of my face, Sangie."
"Gladly. Best of luck, babe."
"Won't need it!" He's yelling after him while Yeosang slips out of the kitchen. He finally manages to locate his own cigarettes and he hears the low sizzle of the paper when he takes his first drag. His elbows knock against the marble counter top of the kitchen island when he lets his head fall into his hands with a sigh. Trying his very best to ignore the near porno that's playing out just outside the room.
He inhales again, deeply as he shakes his head to himself. And he can't stop the way he's glancing over to the side every few seconds. He manages to get halfway through the cigarette before he finally pulls away from the counter, fed up after all. He waltzes over into the hallway where the stranger is now whispering something in San's ear that is apparently very funny if San's expression is anything to go off of.
"Alright, enough." He wraps a hand around San's bicep to pull him away while he continues breathing in his smoke. "You've had your fun, let's head out."
San looks over his shoulder confused, allowing himself to be ripped away from his companion. "Hm?"
"Yo, what's your problem?" The stranger straightens out, easily a full head taller than Wooyoung.
"I don't have a problem. Just taking him home."
"Yeah, well we were kinda in the middle of something if you hadn't noticed?" He puts a hand around San's other arm like they're playing tug of war with him. "Beat it."
"He's fucking wasted, man." Wooyoung tugs on San more harshly, pulling him out of the other's reach. He gestures to the overcrowded living room with his cigarette. "Go find someone else to take advantage of, yeah? Plenty of drunk fish."
"I don't wanna go." San slurs with a pout. "Party is just gettin' started."
"It's 3AM, San."
The stranger buts in once again. "He said he doesn't wanna go."
"Alright, you need to back the fuck off." Wooyoung throws the end of his cigarette on the floor right by the man's feet. "Nobody's speaking to you. Shoo." wooyoung waves a condescending hand in the general direction of the party. "Shoo, fuck off."
"You're so rude." San turns around with a giggle, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung's neck. "You're sexy when you're angry."
Just like that San's tongue is roaming around his mouth. It takes Wooyoung a few seconds to pull away. "Okay, San. Let's get you home."
It seems like San shoving his tongue all the way down Wooyoung's throat was the stranger's last straw, and he finally walks off with a scoff.
"Why are you so... What's up with you?" San's leaning most of his weight on Wooyoung as they depart the house.
"What do you mean?"
"I was having fun." San whines, although he follows along well with Wooyoung's steps. "Why are you pulling me off of a man?"
"Got creepy vibes from him." Wooyoung shrugs and it's not a lie. Besides the fact that San had been the one he was attached to, the man had something weird in his eyes. Wooyoung's intuition told him it was bad news. "Besides, you're hammered. You should get some water and some sleep."
"Why do you ca-care so much if I drink?" He trips over his words and his own feet and he stumbles forward.
"I don't care if you drink. I care how you drink. And this just isn't you, and I don't want you to wake up in an alley tomorrow."
"I could've crashed at Jongho's."
"I guess, but we're already on our way now."
"You're allowed to drink your sadness away." It's nearly a whisper the way the words fall off San's lips. "Why can't I?"
"I just don't like seeing you this way."
"What? Because I am just overjoyed to see you get wasted whenever something ever so slightly inconvenient happens? That's not fair."
"Maybe not. I'm a selfish person. I've warned you about that."
"It's not selfish." San shakes his head and stops walking altogether. "It's hypocritical. It doesn't make you selfish to not want to see me hurt but you're being hypocritical."
"Fine, hypocritical then. Whatever negative words you can come up with, I've been it. This isn't news."
They're standing in the middle of the road, large houses surrounding them. "You acknowledging your shitty qualities doesn't just make them okay. You can't just be like oh haha silly me being a dick again, you know me and act like that fixes everything."
"Am I being a dick?"
"Not right now. Right now you're just being hypocritical." San sighs deeply and falls to his ass, still in the middle of the road. He pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his cheek on one. "It's not in a dick way though. You mean well. Still not cool."
Wooyoung wants to hoist him back up but instead decides to just settle down on the road across from him, pulling his knees to his chest in a similar manner. "I know. But just because I make shitty decisions doesn't mean I can't worry about yours."
"I'm not a child. I'm not your boyfriend. I'm not yours to look out for." San pulls a tiny flask from his pocket and takes a sip.
"Where the fuck did that come from?"
"My pocket."
"Yeah I fucking saw that." Wooyoung rolls his eyes and tries to reach for the flask but San tucks it against his chest. "I mean why do you have it, what's in it?"
"Whiskey." San pouts before his takes another sip. "I don't even really like whiskey."
"Well then give it to me." Wooyoung tries to grab it again but San pulls it back out of his reach. So much so that he falls back against the pavement, resting his head.
He doesn't acknowledge Wooyoung's attempt any further, just blinking up at the sky as he pours more of the liquid down his throat. "I just don't understand why she doesn't want me."
"What?"
"My mom." San sits back up with a whine. "Why do some people get two nice parents, and I can't even get one? How is that fair?"
Wooyoung's face falls when he catches sight of the tears in San's eyes. "I don't know, San... I've wondered the same thing."
"Yeah." San nods. "You too. Why didn't you get at least one nice parent? What the fuck did we ever do to deserve that? Like why did the universe decide to screw us over from birth? I don't get it."
"I don't know. I wish I could make it make sense but I can't."
San's tears pour over after another sip. And it seems the liquor takes away the usual reservedness because he doesn't even bother to hide it. "She's never gonna talk to me again, Wooyoung. You saw the way she acted when we left. She's never gonna acknowledge me again. And as shitty as that visit was, having her actually speak to me was one of the best things that's happened to me in years."
"She doesn't deserve you-"
"I don't give a fuck about that! I just want her to love me. Or at least acknowledge that I fucking exist. She can scream at me every day for all I care all I want is for her to see me. And now I know I'll never see her again. And I have to live with the knowledge that I'll never hear her comfort me. Before this I could pretend that if I ever came back she would hug me tight and apologise for everything. And now... now I can no longer delude myself. That’s what sucks. Even though I knew it wasn’t true I could pretend she’d be happy to see me. And now I’ve lost the ability to pretend."
Wooyoung nods, he's not sure there's anything he could say that would make San feel better. "I broke her vase..."
San frowns at that, sniffling as he wipes away the tears. "What?"
"When we left. You were already outside and I was following you but the way she acted pissed me off so bad I knocked over that vase by the door. She looked fucking livid."
San stares at him with an open mouth for a few seconds before cackling loudly. "Oh that thing was so expensive."
"Really?" Wooyoung grins at the sound of San's laughter. "Good."
"She bought it after selling my bike behind my back when I was twelve."
"Shit, I should've stolen it." He can't help laughing along when San giggles. Just happy to finally see some genuine joy on his face again.
"I wish I could've seen her face." San wipes away the last of his tears. "Thank you."
"If you ever want me to I can go back and break some more shit."
"That won't be necessary." San's laughing stops suddenly as he seemingly gets an idea, pulling out his phone and typing something in before handing it over to Wooyoung. "Block her number for me. I don't think I can do it but I don't ever want her to reach out again because it'll only hurt more. I'm done. Please block her."
"Gladly." Wooyoung smirks and takes the phone, and it's beyond satisfactory to press that button. "Problem solved."
San takes the phone back with a sullen smile. "Thanks."
"Any time." He watches San take another sip before averting his eyes.
"Is it just me or are we fighting a lot recently?" San mutters, picking at the skin on his lip. "I feel like we're constantly arguing."
"Hmm..." Wooyoung nods. "You don't seem to enjoy me very much anymore."
San brows draw together, shaking his head. "What makes you say that?"
Wooyoung shrugs, swallowing thickly. "I don't know. You're angry at me quite often."
"You keep doing shit that pisses me off."
A soft chuckle pushes past his lips when he nods. "Everything I do pisses you off."
"It's not you." San sighs, taking another sip. "I've been on edge. I'm just frustrated."
"Frustrated with what?"
"Myself. I've put myself in a shitty position, but that's on me." He must notice the confusion on Wooyoung's face so he elaborates. "I just feel like we're kinda on different pages."
Wooyoung looks away in shame. San must be talking about the weird jealousy thing. It isn't really appropriate, the way he's been behaving. San must be worried Wooyoung is expecting too much from him, uncomfortable with Wooyoung pushing the boundaries of their situation. Must be annoyed at how selfish Wooyoung is being. He needs to back off and let San be San. "I know, I'm sorry."
"That's okay." San smiles, though it doesn't carry much joy. "It's not your fault."
It's difficult because he himself doesn't fully understand it. Why he's been feeling and acting so possessive recently. But it's entirely inappropriate, and it was only a matter of time before San mentioned it. It honestly surprises him San has been putting up with his weird bullshit for so long.
San's sweet voice interrupts his thoughts. "For what it's worth, I still enjoy your company. Just because we fight doesn't mean I don't like you anymore."
Wooyoung groans when San gets to his feet, letting the man pull him up but his fingers slip from Wooyoung's palm just as quickly, like he'd burned himself on the skin. He thinks back to their first few months of being friends. Back before he started being weird.
"We used to laugh so much."
"We still laugh."
"I know. I've just been feeling down lately. You have, too. I think."
San nods. "To be fair, life has been pretty fucking shitty lately. With both of us going back to our home towns and stuff. Life's just been kinda rough on us these past months. We'll get over it."
"I'm sure we will."
He feels a need to plead. Please, need me. He'd say. He could. He won't, though. His desperation is staring him in the eye, mocking him, he can hear faint laughter in the back of his mind if he tries hard enough.
Please, need me.
He wants to try again, give kneeling down and begging one last shot. A first shot. He could. He won't.
His fingers find a mind of their own - one with more bravery than Wooyoung will ever muster - and go on a search for San's hand. They find their treasure, grasp onto it, and San returns the favour without missing a beat. Maybe he'll get the message.
Here I am holding your hand, it means I need you. It means please need me back. It means that I'd be willing to leave my hand within yours until they rot and decay and take us with it.
Seriously, how much clearer could he possibly make it.
•••
"Wanna know something?" Wooyoung wonders. He and Jongho are sat side by side on the stone railing of the balcony, looking out over his garden. Yeosang is passed out in Jongho's bedroom just down the hall so the two of them decided to sit outside, sharing a pack of cigarettes.
"Always."
"I'm glad it was you." Wooyoung admits, handing his cigarette over for Jongho to take a drag. "Out of all the fucking gay people in our group, I'm glad Yeosang chose you."
Jongho snorts at that. "Yeah, me too. I still don't know why he did. Must be my big dick."
"And you're rich." Wooyoung accepts the cigarette back, smiling as he inhales. "Who doesn't love a rich man with a big cock."
Jongho's chuckles slowly fade into the night as he quiets down. "I really don't get it. But I'm thankful every day."
Wooyoung glances at him upon noticing the serious tone. "Yeosang's always been very, you know..." he gestures vaguely with his hands. "He's somewhere else, mentally, most of time. I think you keep him grounded. I never was very good at that."
Jongho glances back at him, immediately avoiding his eyes again when they meet. "You think?"
"I know. Yeosang's brain is always floating around in the clouds somewhere. You keep him present, I think you make him feel safe too. You're good for him."
"He's good for me, too. I think I might be a bit too grounded sometimes. He helps me let go."
"Ugh." Wooyoung's lip pulls up in disgust. "You've become such a sap."
Jongho chuckles. "Love will do that to a person." He seems to notice the awkwardness of Wooyoung's nod. "You'll find it some day."
He scoffs, "give me a break."
"An idiot and stubborn." Jongho shakes his head and steals the cigarette back. "What and awful combination."
"You talking about me?"
"Way to prove the idiot part." Jongho laughs at the question.
"Is this what I get for being nice to you? Never again."
"Thank fuck. Nice Wooyoung creeps me out."
Wooyoung glares at him. "Maybe because you know you don't deserve it."
"Fuck you, too." The end of the cigarette gets thrown over Jongho's shoulder onto the balcony. "I just don't understand you sometimes."
"Well I don't understand me either. And that's higher on my list of concerns than whatever it is you think of me."
"You're setting yourself up for failure."
"Hm." Wooyoung makes a face. "What a lovely comment. What lovely friends I have."
"I'm just saying-"
"Well, don't."
"You're acting dumber than you are." Jongho never really asks, he just observes and then states. "It's all right there in front of you, you're just pretending you don't care or see it."
"What the fuck are you even talking about?"
"San. Obviously."
"Not this again. What is up with everyone lately." Wooyoung groans and presses his palms into his eyes, shaking his head. "Just let it go. I think I know my feelings better than you do."
"For some reason I doubt that."
"I doubt you."
"You doubt everything, it doesn't count."
Wooyoung snorts. "I guess you got that part right."
"I know you a lot better than you realise."
"Maybe. But still not as well as you think you do."
"I don't need to know your favourite chipmunk to know that you're playing dumb." Jongho grabs a new cigarette out of the pack. "There's more to this San thing than just innocent friendship."
Wooyoung grabs his own cigarette and remains quiet for a while after he lights it. "It's Alvin."
"I figured."
"Is yours Theodore?"
Jongho glances at him from the corner of his eye. "How'd you know that?"
"Just a hunch." They quiet down for a few long minutes before Wooyoung finally speaks up again. "It is getting complicated. The San thing. I won't deny that, it's getting weird. But nothing has changed, for me. I'm still defective, the relationship and love thing still isn't on the table. And it never will be. This is just who I am. And a confusing friends with benefits won't change that."
"You keep telling yourself that." Jongho presses out his cigarette on the stone between them before he gets up off the railing. "Either way, don't lead him on. I think we both know he deserves better than that."
"I'm not." Wooyoung frowns, offended he would even insinuate that. "And San doesn't like me that way either, I'm not leading anybody on. San isn't in love with me, he's not some sad kid that's pining over me. We're friends. If anything I think I'm overstepping his boundaries."
Jongho nods with pursed lips, taking a step closer to the balcony doors. "Whatever you say, man. You just believe what you want. Or what's the easiest to deal with, I guess. I'm just saying, keep his feelings in mind. Really take a good look at how he treats you, and then try to convince yourself he doesn't care."
"You don't have a clue what you're talking about."
"Cramming a wet noodle up a lion's ass would be easier than trying to talk some sense into you." Jongho slips through the open doors into the hallway. "Goodnight, Wooyoung. I'm gonna go to my fiancé. You just pick whatever room you want."
Wooyoung scoffs as he hears the footsteps retreat. And then he refuses to think about the conversation they just had. Maybe because it doesn't matter. Maybe because he's scared to find Jongho may be onto something. Either way, he lights another cigarette, and banishes all thoughts of San, Jongho and love.
•••
If he's being entirely honest, he's been avoiding San a little bit. Every conversation between them twists his organs further into a painful knot. And he's unsure how much more of it he can take exactly. Besides that he can tell he's hurting San. And besides that, San has been hurting him.
And every time he speaks to him he feels they get closer to either one of them making a mistake they can't return from.
"What's been up with you lately?" Yunho questions. They're at work but they're sat on the front door step. One in the afternoon, a pack of cigarettes between them on the pavement.
Wooyoung sighs, cuddling deeper into his winter jacket. The cold is skin-numbing, reaching even the most covered parts of his body. "What now?"
"I don't know, you just seem... on edge. More so than usual. Just wondering."
"Is this part of your new being nice thing? Pretending to care about whether I'm on edge or not?"
"I didn't say I cared, I said I was wondering."
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, scooting closer to Yunho to try and steal some of his body heat. "I am fucking on edge. My entire life feels like it's dangling off a cliff, one slipping finger away from crashing and burning."
"Doesn't it always?"
"Yes. But now it feels like there's somebody looming around the corner ready to peel my fingers out of their grip. I can sense it, Yunho. It's in the air. Something is gonna go terribly fucking wrong soon."
"Maybe you need to let yourself fall in order to fly."
"Fuck off." Wooyoung sighs. "I don't need inspirational quotes right now."
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Wooyoung. You're like a cockroach, you might fall but you'll just get up and keep crawling."
A huffs out a laugh. "I guess that's true."
"Is it San?" Yunho asks carefully, nose red and dripping from the cold, sniffing every few seconds.
"Is what?"
"The person looming around the corner? Waiting to peel your fingers away."
He hesitates before tentatively nodding. "I'm afraid so."
"When did you give him so much power?"
Wooyoung shrugs. "Just kinda happened, I guess. Didn't even notice until it was too late."
"Love tends to be that way, sudden, catching you off guard."
There's no energy left in him. "Sure."
Yunho glances at him. "What are you so afraid of?"
Wooyoung gnaws on his chapped lips, and chooses not to respond. Because he doesn't know what to say. And how to say it. And whether to say it. He stays quiet, and then Yunho does too.
•••
"I'm gonna go."
"Where?"
The air has been unbreathable ever since he arrived, he's spent the past hour next to San on the man's couch. Only a handful of sentences shared between them. This is why he's been pulling back. Every time he sees him he feels the end getting closer and closer. The less he sees him, the longer he can put it off.
Wooyoung shrugs. "I don't know, I got shit to do."
"It's the middle of the night." San comments, picking at his cigarette. He doesn't look up to meet his eyes, he's been drinking again. It's been a lot of that lately. And he feels too similar to Wooyoung, like looking in a mirror, and he hates what he sees. "What kinda shit?"
"Just shit. Does it matter?"
"Of course not." San's mumbling at the wall, eyes glued to it, to anything that isn't Wooyoung. "Have fun getting laid."
"Where the fuck did you get that idea from? All I said is that I was gonna go do something."
He shrugs. "I don't know, it's the middle of the night. What else could you be doing?"
"Because that's all I do right? Have sex." Wooyoung gets up off the couch, arms crossed over his chest protectively.
"That is not what I said." San's sighing at him again, eyes still somewhere else.
"You know it's not like you're Virgin Mary."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"You never fucking do. Yet you keep saying shit. The next time you're planning to say something you don't mean, just keep it in."
"Sorry." He lights the cigarette he's been picking at, eyes glued to the burning end of it.
"If you're angry at me you can just come out and say so. If I've done something to suddenly make you hate me just come out and fucking say it. Because I can't handle these constant, vague jabs anymore."
"I've told you I'm not mad at you."
"Then can you stop being so fucking mean!"
San finally looks at him when he hears his voice crack. The tears in Wooyoung's eyes seem to catch him off guard. "Are you crying?"
"Oh fuck off, San."
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I feel like I don't even recognise you anymore." Wooyoung admits in a broken whisper. "And I'm really fucking scared."
San's jaw tenses like he's trying to will always tears of his own. "Sorry my sadness is so hard on you."
"You might be better at showing it but you're not the only one that feels things, San. I have feelings too."
"Could've fooled me."
"Is that the way you view me?" Wooyoung sniffles, aggressively wiping his eyes. "As some heartless monster?"
"No, it's not." San sighs, letting his head fall into his hands. "You're not heartless, Wooyoung. Sorry."
"Let me guess, you didn't mean it like that? You said that me acknowledging my shitty qualities doesn't just make them okay. But the same goes for you. Constantly saying sorry and then continuing to be mean doesn't make it okay. Sorry doesn't fix anything when you keep doing it."
"I just-" San gently wipes away the few tears that break past his lashes, inhaling the smoke before shakily blowing it out. "I'm mad at myself and I'm taking it out on you. I'm not being fair, I know."
Wooyoung swallows thickly, trying not to be embarrassed by his tears. "Maybe... maybe we should just... not hang out, for a little bit."
San winces, eyebrows knitting together. His voice is thin when he opens his mouth. "Why?"
"It's not really doing either of us any good, now is it? And I know that you're not feeling good and I'm sorry for you. And I will be there for you whenever you need me, day and night. But I don't want to be here just for you to take your anger out on. And I know I've done similar things to you, I've been a real jerk. But I guess I'm not as selfless as you are, because I can't just sit here and take it and pretend you're not fucking hurting me."
San nods in understanding. "I won't ask you to."
Wooyoung offers him the best smile he can, walking over to press a soft kiss to San's lips. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon, alright?"
And the more San lashes out at him, the more Wooyoung will lash out right back. And he can't afford making San feel even worse than he already does.
San's hand finds his own, squeezing softly, like he doesn't ever want to let go. And Wooyoung considers cutting it off and leaving it here with the crying man. Instead he untangles their fingers and San tries his hardest to offer a smile of his own. "See you soon."
Wooyoung's gonna go find something he can take, snort or drink. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.
"Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I'd never met you." San admits quietly, their eyes still locked. "Is that bad?"
Wooyoung carefully shakes his head. "No, San. That's okay."
San inhales deeply. "See you soon."
"Yeah, soon." He smiles. At least he tries. "Don't do anything stupid in the meantime."
"I'll try. You too."
Wooyoung purses his lips, he's trying to remember the number of the guy he used to get pills from. "Yeah, I'll try. Nothing stupid."
Some room to breathe should be good for the both of them. This should be good. It'll be good.
•••
"What brings you here at this hour?" Yunho seems surprised to find Wooyoung at the door. To be fair, it's 2AM.
"Saying happy birthday, dropping off a little gift." Wooyoung shrugs, Yunho doesn't move aside to let him in, Wooyoung doesn't want to.
"You know we're having dinner with all the guys tomorrow right? Or today, I guess."
"I know." He nods. "I'm not coming."
"Oh." He takes the small gift bag Wooyoung hands him. "Why?"
"It's all just a bit- you know, I'm not feeling it. Sorry."
Yunho nods, pursing his lips. "San told me you guys aren't talking."
"We're not not talking."
"But you're not talking."
"I guess." He shrugs. "I just need to breathe. I felt like I couldn't breathe."
"He can't either..."
Wooyoung swallows, eyes casting away. "It's not a big present." He changes the subject. "Nothing like what you got me. But I hope you'll like it."
"What is it?"
"Open it and find out."
Yunho reaches into the bag, he didn't wrap it. It's a shirt he'd pointed out the other day, one he couldn't quite afford at the moment. One Wooyoung can't quite afford either.
"Is this the one I saw last week?" Yunho smiles, holding up the shirt to inspect it. "Thank you, Wooyoung. You shouldn't have, it was way too expensive."
"You deserve something nice. All your shirts are falling apart."
"Thank you." He repeats again, eyes sincere. "Are you sure you're not coming tonight?"
"Very." He takes a step back, ready to leave. "Have fun, wear the shirt. It'll look good on you."
"I will." He nods. "You're always welcome to join, don't forget that."
"Thanks."
He doesn't show up. Seonghwa and Jongho text him. He doesn't reply.
•••
"I don't remember inviting you." Hongjoong comments, but steps aside to let him in regardless.
"Sorry, I should've called."
He waves it off. "It's fine, I just ordered food and definitely overestimated myself again, you can help me finish it. Should be here in about 20 minutes now."
Wooyoung nods, "I can help with that." He'd just needed to get out of the house. Turns out that when he stops spending time with San he suddenly has a lot of spare hours on his hands. And he needs to think and talk about something, anything, else right now.
Hongjoong sits down by his easel again, working on a painting. Wooyoung glances over his shoulder, and within all the incomprehensible colours it takes him a second or two to notice he's looking at himself. "Is that... me?"
"Sure is." Hongjoong nods, continuing adding more strokes to the hair.
"Why?" He frowns and sits down on a section of the couch that allows him to see parts of the painting past Hongjoong's small frame blocking it.
"I like painting crisis." He responds plainly, like he's not insulting him. Probably because he doesn't mean to.
He rolls his eyes. "And I'm crisis?"
"Like a burning car wreck." Hongjoong simply nods.
"Thanks." He just sighs and decides to let it go. "Do you paint the other guys?"
"Oh all the time. You guys are a constant supply of inspiration. It's like I'm capturing a historic tragedy."
"Wait really? Where do you keep the works?"
Hongjoong vaguely gestures to a cabinet in the corner, not looking up from his work. "Third drawer on the right is paintings of you guys, you can look through them."
Wooyoung gets up to sift through the drawer, and the sheer amount of papers in there is startling. "You've been busy."
"Like I said, you guys inspire me."
It's both close ups of their faces and full body images. Everything is from Hongjoong's point of view, like you're inside his eyes. Sometimes there are surroundings, sometimes not. Crying, laughing, just a lost gaze. There's dozens of different expressions captured within the pile of works, and Wooyoung sees himself come by more than once.
One painting is of him and San, a specific scene. It's something he remembers experiencing. At Jongho's house, the two of them pressed shoulder to shoulder on a couch. San had been showing him a trick on a random Rubik's cube he'd found lying around. They're both smiling.
Wooyoung holds it up for Hongjoong to see. "Why this moment. Is this crisis?"
"Kinda." Hongjoong shrugs. "It's different."
"Different how?"
"You won't like the answer."
"Tell me anyways."
Hongjoong sighs, putting down his brush to turn around. "There are two things that are the driving force for about 90% of all art, sometimes it's both of them. And that's pain, and love."
"Which is this supposed to be?"
"I don't know, you tell me." Hongjoong goes back to painting. "Do you think you look in pain, Wooyoung?"
Point taken. Wooyoung wonders why every conversation he has somehow gets brought back to San in one way or another.
So instead he lets himself be distracted by Hongjoong's appearance. Clothes stained with paint, his blue hair tangled and all over the place. His eye bags are impressive by this point, skin paler than a human's ever should be.
"When's the last time you went outside?"
Hongjoong hesitates, "Yunho's dinner."
"That was a week ago." Wooyoung tries to not make it sound like an accusation.
"I guess." He shrugs. "Hadn't noticed."
"Why are you always hidden away in here?"
"The outside world is cruel, Wooyoung. You're living proof of that."
Wooyoung can't tell whether Hongjoong is calling him the cruelty or a victim of, or both. Either way, he's too scared to ask.
And while Hongjoong is a bit of a recluse, he still seems so comfortable with himself. Even after the life he's lived he's somehow the least sad out of all of them. He's manspreading, and grinning, and taking a drag from a joint. And he seems like he's at peace. He always does. And while he has plenty of fears and issues, he never seems particularly sad.
"Why aren't you more sad?" Wooyoung wonders, not caring about how stupid the question sounds.
Hongjoong just laughs, looking over his shoulder with a playful frown. "Should I be?"
"No, I guess not. It's just that if I had had to live the life you did I'd be much more depressed. Hell, look at me, I'm already more depressed now. Does your past not bother you?"
Hongjoong just shrugs. "What do I have to gain from dwelling on things that are long gone?"
"I don't think it works like that."
"It does for me. What's happened has happened. Does it suck? Yeah, sure. But nothing will make it not have happened. It's of no concern to me now. And in ways I still carry it with me obviously. But I'm not sad about it."
"I see where you're coming from, I think it just doesn't work for me that way."
"Everyone's different, Wooyoung. Just because I'm not sad doesn't mean you can't be."
Wooyoung purses his lips. "Do you think you'll ever have sex again?"
"Fuck I hope so." Hongjoong laughs. "I used to love that shit. I think I'll get there someday, I'm working on it. I can do stuff like this-" he pokes Wooyoung in the arm with a singular finger "-now. Which is progress. I'm making progress."
"How long has it been? Since the whole... incident."
"About three years? I think." Hongjoong frowns. "And I'm kinda sick of it. Of avoiding crowded places. Of always being on edge when I'm outside, scared someone is gonna bump into me, or brush past me. It gets a little tiring. So I'm working on it. I miss hugs, and kissing. I'm making real progress."
"I'm happy to see you doing well." Wooyoung smiles sincerely. "I'm very proud you can poke me now."
"Hm, just you wait, soon I'm gonna be able to slap you."
Wooyoung's jaw drops. "Please don't."
Hongjoong laughs before shaking his head. "Babysteps, Wooyoung. It's the only way. Baby steps, you would know." Another accusation.
Wooyoung doesn't get to question what he means because their food arrives. And again, he doesn't think he really wants to know.
•••
"How are you?" Mingi asks, passing a joint between them in his bed.
Mingi feels like the only person where he won't get judged right now. The only person that doesn't view him as a piece of shit for how everything is going with San. Maybe he just hides it better. Even when he's with Yeosang he can see it in his eyes, that he's disappointed.
He gnaws on his lip, shrugging. "I'm alright."
"Are you sure?" Maybe it's because Mingi is just not a judgemental person. Maybe because he's done worse. Maybe because he's just understanding like that. Maybe because he's understanding of Wooyoung specifically. They're more alike than either of them tends to acknowledge.
"Yeah..." he nods, frowning a little, he knows he sounds unsure of himself. "Yeah- no, I'm fine. I'm okay."
"You don't seem it."
"Well, what can I say? That I'm doing shitty, awful even. At the end of the day I'm the one that created the situation I'm in. What right do I have to say I'm doing shitty? So, I'm fine. I'm good."
"Repeating it won't make it true." Mingi muses, taking the joint back.
"I can try." He sighs, falling back against the bed. He stares at Mingi's ceiling. It's so cloudy with smoke there's no static to be found.
"If you're feeling so shitty why don't you just fix it?"
Wooyoung hesitates. "I don't know how. I don't know what he wants, what I want. And if both of those things can happen at once."
"You two should communicate more."
"Every time we communicate we fight... I think maybe this whole thing just doesn't work."
"And then what?" Mingi looks down at him with a frown. "It all ends? Just like that? You think you could do that?"
Wooyoung hesitates before carefully shaking his head. "No, I definitely can't. I think I'll continue this dysfunctional thing until it destroys us both."
"There has to be a better solution. It doesn't have to be like this."
"If you find the solution please feel free to tell me. I'm open to all suggestions at this point."
"Both of you should start by admitting you're in love with each other."
"Don't piss me off." Wooyoung shuts him down immediately. "I came here for some peace of mind."
"Fine. But this whole thing of pushing people away so they can't leave you won't work forever."
"Who the fuck said I was doing that?"
"Your actions. You know, that thing you do where you do shitty things and force people away so when they do leave you can blame it on the things you did instead of the fact that maybe they just don't want to be around you. You know, doing unlikeable things so you seem like a decent person that just makes bad choices, instead of just genuinely being unlikeable."
Wooyoung lights a cigarette when he notices Mingi isn't planning to hand to joint back over. "I need to stop hanging out with you."
"Because I see through your tricks?" Mingi smiles cheekily, leaning against the wall.
"Because you're annoying."
"Spoken like someone who's scared to let people get too close."
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "Did you purchase some kinda self help book?"
"Avoiding the accusations."
"Fine. Yeah. Sure. Maybe you're right. But even if you are, I think it's something I do subconsciously."
"Yeah, tends to be that way. It's your subconscious self protecting your conscious self from being hurt like you've been in the past."
"Okay, seriously." Wooyoung frowns at him. "Did you purchase some kind of book? Are you attending therapy?"
Mingi chuckles. "I was almost evicted this month, Wooyoung. I don't have that kinda money."
"Then where did all this wisdom come from?"
"We still have no TV, I spend way too many hours just sitting and thinking."
"In another life I think you would've made a good therapist."
"Me? A therapist? People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Wooyoung. I don't think I'm very fit to solve other people's mental issues."
"And somehow you're still throwing stones at me.” He raises his brows. “Either way, in my opinion people tend to be better at helping others when they've been through something similar."
Mingi hums in thought. "Maybe, if I ever have the money. I might go to college."
"You'd do well." Wooyoung nods.
"But how do you really feel?"
"Really really?" Wooyoung raises his brows in question.
Mingi nods. "Really really."
"I feel like... like I don't know how to be a person. Everyone just manages to be a person, like they don't even have to think about it. I don't even know how to be a person. Let alone a decent one. And I just don't understand how I got here. I'm still alive, and that wasn't the plan. I don't even know how to be a person and somehow I still got this far, and I don't know how. But I also can't remember why. Why did I keep going? Why am I still going? And what I fear most is that I think there's only one thing I've ever truly loved, and it is my own sadness. For I am nothing without it. I am nothing without my pain. I am barely a person now, and if you were to take away all the sadness, there would be absolutely nothing left. I have no self. I am my past, and my pain. I don't belong... anywhere. I don't know what I like, and what I want. But above all I don't know who I am. I'm not only my own pain, I am my mother's, and yours. But I'm like a mirror, you know? Every bit of pain that comes my way I reflect back, harsher, more blinding. More cutting. And everything around me and inside of me is rotting, and nauseating. It's all hunger, and teeth and poison, and sin, and gross... wet? It's all... everything feels rotten. And it all aches, like sharp teeth chewing on my soul. These big teeth, and they never ever stop chewing. And everything is so intense, I don't know to care for people without swallowing them whole. Like they're in my veins, between my particles. At the same time I don't want them anywhere near me. When I feel myself caring I wanna run. I don't like feeling like I need someone around, like it'd hurt when they eventually, inevitably leave. At the same time I wanna stop forcing people away. Like they say, it's better to have to loved and lost than never to have loved at all. But I don't know if that's true. Besides, I made a promise to my mom never to love anybody. And with San everything is so confusing because I don’t understand my mind and my feelings and I don’t know why I act the way that I do. I just want to do whatever is best for him but I never actually do it. He means so much to me but I can’t tell him that. I can never tell anybody anything because I don’t like when people can perceive my insides. I don’t like it when people see I feel things because it makes me vulnerable and whenever I open up all the rot spills out. These maggot filled, sickening, rotten insides. And when it starts spilling out I don’t know how to put it back in. Or if I should. But yeah, I think that's my biggest secret. That the only thing I am capable of loving is my own suffering. I need it. I actually need it. So I don't really know what I feel. I think I feel that... Everything is a lot. And I just want everything to stop being... so much. It's all a lot. There's a lot of everything. And still I don't think I fit inside it. There's room for everyone in the everything. And somehow I still feel like I do not belong. Anywhere."
Mingi blinks, and hesitates. He hesitates for a long time. "I see."
"Got any advice?" Wooyoung smiles at him.
"Not even a little. Sorry for asking."
"Sorry for telling."
"That's okay."
Wooyoung nods. And he thinks he's said all that needs to be said for today.
•••
The next time he sees San is a whole two weeks later, nearing midnight. And he's drinking again, or still. And Wooyoung just goes along with it. If you can't beat them, join them. Or whatever it is that they say. He's not sure it applies to this situation. Either way, they're not getting very drunk anyways. Just talking over a few glasses of wine, back on Wooyoung's balcony once again.
San had come over unannounced, Wooyoung had been grateful. Turns out life now feels pretty empty without San.
"When did my life turn into such a shit show?" San speaks the words into the night, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his glass.
"Age eight, give or take. Going off of what you told me."
"That's how old I was when my dad died."
Wooyoung nods. "Sounds about right, then."
"I think you're onto something." San smiles at him but it fades the second he looks away again. "I'm making it worse for myself, too."
"How's that?"
San shakes his head. "Just all of it. I've made decisions that can only end horribly. Set myself up for failure, I guess."
"Funny," Wooyoung chuckles. "Jongho said the same thing about me a while ago."
"Aren't we a sad bunch?" San grins, but once again it doesn't last very long at all.
Wooyoung slides his hand down San's thigh, squeezing softly. San’s hand comes down to cover his, playing with his fingers. The energy is weird tonight. Even more so than usual. San's voice sounds like his throat is full of tears, and he shifts like he doesn't know what to do with himself.
A little drunk again. Not very, but more than usual. He arrived at Wooyoung's place like that, and he half believes that San just came over because he ran out of drinks back home.
Wooyoung decides to shake his head. "I'm not particularly sad." He's not particularly happy, either. But he's been worse. And while the whole weird San thing is becoming exhausting, he feels better than he did during their argument a while ago.
San purses his lips. "Good for you."
"What now?" Wooyoung sighs, watching San pour more liquor down his throat. San’s got his little flask again. "You're angry that I'm not sad?"
"Who said that?" San frowns and shakes his head, offering Wooyoung some vodka that he declines. "All I said was good for you. Good for you, right?"
"It is the way in which-"
"Oh my god." San cuts him off, laughing exasperatedly. "I was fucking congratulating you."
Apparently they've become incapable of not arguing.
"You're difficult to read when you're drunk."
"You mean I'm difficult to like when I'm drunk?"
"Maybe. Yes."
"You barely like me sober." San laughs, like that fixes everything, ending another sentence with a sip.
"That's just not true."
"You don't like me enough."
This confuses Wooyoung, as he doesn't quite know what it entails. "What would be enough?"
"More than this."
"I figured." He nods, though San actually hasn't got a clue what he's talking about. "I don't think you really know about what goes on in my brain."
"You don't speak about it."
"I do. I tell you lots of things."
San shakes his head, disagreeing without hesitation. "You tell me about yourself but not about what you're thinking. How you're feeling."
"I dislike the subject."
"Too confrontational?"
Wooyoung's not sure he can argue that. He just shrugs his shoulders instead. "I wasn't raised like that. Feelings aren't to be discussed. Not the sad ones."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot, because my mother adored nothing more than sitting down for a long heart to heart."
"Don't even-"
"Yeah, no, my fucking bad. Never mind."
Wooyoung sighs and tries to pry the alcohol from San's hands, he doesn't let him. He gives up and leans his head against the wall, he fails to recognise them, sometimes. Not San, not himself, but them together. He can barely see the friendship that blossomed months ago. "I do like you. I don't know why you keep doubting that."
San's mouth opens, his tongue poking into his cheek like it's taking every last shred of strength to not burst into tears. "Maybe because you don't act like it."
"I don't understand what you want from me. I really don't."
San presses his thumb into the bottle's opening, slipping it free with a soft pop. He shakes his head, it's theatrical, the whole ordeal. The way his eyes flicker to the city nightlife as he tries to blink away the tears. San's been crying an awful lot lately. And while not all his fault, Wooyoung knows he has to take blame for at least some of those tears. "I don't know, either." San clears his throat, sniffling. "I don't know."
"That's not the truth."
"You already don't like truths." Another humourless chuckle pushes past San's lips. Through the tears Wooyoung remembers, like a quick flash, what San's eyes had looked like last summer. So full of life, and mischief, and love. Now, they're like hollow, emptied out bowls. Robbed dry, by Wooyoung, by the world. "You'd really fucking hate this one."
"You can tell me the truth."
"But it makes you hate me a little more."
"I don't hate you at all. Not even a little bit."
"That's also not the truth." San smiles like he's daring Wooyoung to deny. He can't.
Wooyoung mulls it over and decides to entertain the challenge. "Be honest with me. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Kiss me?" Is what San whispers back, and when he looks to the side with those hopeful eyes Wooyoung is filled with the urge to run away. Whether that be out the front door or over the railing of the balcony to plummet to the pavement five stories beneath them. He just needs to be away from this.
A small nod is his answer before he leans in to capture San's lips with his own.
It's been what? Like seven months? Eight? In the end, it lasted longer than he'd expected. Even then, he's known it had to come to an end at some point. And while he could feel it building these last few weeks, it's still a shock when it comes. Mainly because of the way it happens, maybe. He's pretty sure it couldn't have gone any worse. San decides to pull away one of the pillars this situation is built upon. The one major pillar. The only pillar.
He leans back when he tastes the saltiness of San's tears on his lips. "Are-"
"I love you."
The both of them freeze immediately, not a single breath shared between them as they stare at each other with wide eyes.
Wooyoung finally leans back a little. Had this been truth he dared San to spill? Because if so, what's the worst that could happen had been somewhat of a jinx. "Uhm..."
"Fuck-" San leans further back too, eyes so wide they nearly roll out of their sockets. His own words seem to have sobered him up in an instant. "I don't know why I said that. I wasn't gonna say that. I don't know why I did."
Wooyoung's still frozen in place. It's words that have haunted him throughout his entire life. And San's lips were the last he ever wanted to hear them fall from. Shit. "I- uh..."
"Please forget I said anything. Let's just pretend I didn't say that."
San tries to lean in for another kiss but Wooyoung jerks back immediately, getting to his feet. "San, I... I'm sorry but I think you should go. It's better if you go."
"What?" San's eyes well with more tears Wooyoung pretends he doesn't see. He rises to his feet as well, trying to grab onto Wooyoung's hands but they get pulled out of his reach before he gets a chance to. "Wooyoung, don't do this. It doesn't have to mean anything. We can forget I said anything."
"Please just- just get out of my house, San..." He swallows thickly. He can't do this. Not right now, not ever. There's millions of things he could and should say but he feels incapable of pushing any of them past his lips. So, he needs San to get away from him. Everything about this is too much. And if he had to be entirely honest with himself, a part of him had known San felt this way, subconsciously. For a while. It’s just something he’s actively tried to ignore. He knows he wouldn’t be fooling anybody if he were to say he absolutely didn’t see this coming. It’s not something he really knew, but there was a feeling, a dread. But as long as San kept his mouth shut, Wooyoung could keep pretending it wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t his to worry about, it was San’s shit to deal with. Just as long as it wasn’t spoken out loud. Then again, that’s also far from fair.
"Wooyoung, please-"
"Get out." He snaps, walking past San into the living room to grab the man's coat for him and throw it in his direction. His voice turns harsher, and the look on San's face is like a knife through an already irreparably scarred heart. The organ is worn down and abused and it’s incapable of doing and feeling the things it's supposed to. And if it wasn't permanently ruined before this. It sure as hell is now. He's not sure why he yelled at San. Maybe because anger can be the answer to any question. It's easier like that. Anger. His heart knows anger. Maybe also in a bit of a twisted, non traditional way. But it's anger alright. "Get out."
San carefully grabs the coat from where it landed right before his feet. He's staring at the ground with a nod and those silent cries of his and if Wooyoung could go back in time and stop himself from happening to San, he would. He wants to apologise but he can't. And he wants to hold the man in his arms and rock him side to side until any sadness has evaporated but he can't. The best thing for San now is for Wooyoung to stay far far away, but he doesn't say that either. He just does it. "Woo-"
"Get the fuck out. Get out of my house, San. I'm so serious, you need to leave. You need-“ his voice cracks. “I need you to be gone, now."
San seems to get the message then, silently pulling his coat around his torso, keeping his head down as he approaches the front door. Wooyoung opens it and guides San through a tad overly aggressive and the man almost stumbles into the frame. And Wooyoung might drink himself into a coma tonight if he gets the chance.
San turns around to face him through the already nearly closed front door. "I'm sorry for loving you. I wouldn't have chosen this for myself if I had had a say in it."
“I’m sorry, San. I really am.” And Wooyoung has to close the door then without room for a reply because he barely makes it to the sink before his entire dinner comes back up. I'm sorry for loving you. Oh, that one's gonna be haunting him for a while, he realises bitterly. I'm sorry for loving you. Another wave of dinner splashes into a sink that's seen way too much of exactly this through its lifetime.
He falls to his knees when it feels like every last bit of pukeable matter inside his body is out and the next thing to come would be his own organs. Part of him wants to contact Yeosang and seek comfort from him. But Yeosang is not a beating around the bush type of person and Wooyoung doesn't think he's ready to face Yeosang's harsh truths.
Currently he's out at karaoke with Yunho and Mingi. Wooyoung wishes he could be like them right now. Happy, out having fun, not being the ones responsible for shattering San's heart into a thousand pieces. But he isn't, and at the end of the day he has nobody to blame but himself.
He's known that the way he treated San was a mistake. He's not sure when exactly he realised how badly he was messing up. Whether it was back on that first night when San suggested they be friends. Whether it was that first time he cooked for him, or the second time they slept together. In San's bed, sharing the taste of wine between their tangled tongues. He's pretty sure the first time he truly realised it was getting out of hand was the beach. Whatever moment it was doesn't really matter, because he'd already been in too deep to pull away.
Even on that first night. When San had addressed him as Cinderella and walked him home. Had admitted to losing a nearly completed bet just to get a taste of Wooyoung. Even way back then he'd been too selfish to let San walk away. And he'd accepted the proposition of being friends, knowing full well there was no good way for it to end.
Throughout all their endless talking he's always known he'd never be what San wanted him to be. Would never be able to reciprocate any feelings beyond some twisted sense of care.
To this day he's not sure how they both came to be who they are. Both came from places with a severe lack of love. And somehow San ended up with too much of it and Wooyoung with too little.
He's never cared for San in a way that wasn't selfish through and through. He's a selfish person all the way to his core and San is foolish for seeing anything else in him. Again he catches himself trying to blame San for his own shortcomings. It’s not San’s fault. Wooyoung messed up. And even though he isn’t required to love San the way he wants him to. He owed the man a better response than what just happened. Any response would’ve been better than telling him to get the fuck out. No matter where he looks all he sees is that utterly defeated look in San’s eyes. Those mischievous eyes from all those months ago, now teary and desperate. He presses his palms into his own eyes to try and force the image away but nothing helps. He’s close to ripping them out all together.
And even now, he'd almost take San up on his offer. To just forget he said anything, pretend San's love and hurt isn't there. So Wooyoung can keep indulging in him, without any strings attached. But he thinks if there's ever been a time to stop being selfish, this is it. He needs to let go now, he needs to set San free. Because the man will get over this. Maybe Wooyoung won't. But San will move on eventually, he'll find love in somebody that can return it to the fullest.
Just this once, Wooyoung needs to consider something other than his own desires. He needs to let San heal, far away from him.