"Order whatever you fucking want," Wooyoung threw his bag on the floor next to the table he'd chosen for them, "it's on me."
San wearily eyed the shop they'd entered. A couple of eyes had wandered over as a result of the slight noise Wooyoung had made, but the boy didn't seem to give a crap about any of their stares. He looked at ease, which was nothing close to how San was feeling right now.
Wooyoung's eyes met his, calculating yet amused. He folded his arms over the circular table, a smile threatening to break over his face. "Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot, or are you gonna seat and order like a normal person?"
Blood rushed into San's ears, and his face burned. He took the available seat across from Wooyoung, whilst the other male slid the menu over to him.
"Order." Was his command. "The more it is, the better. I barely see you eat anything at lunch."
San bit his lip, his stomach forming knots and getting all queasy because of Wooyoung's words. But, it was the good kind of queasy. That didn't even make sense.
With Wooyoung's eyes on him like that, San's urge to pick at his nails grew more and more.
Wooyoung's eyebrows raised. "Hmm?"
"I -- " San inhaled. "I c-can't."
"Why?" Wooyoung almost sounded offended.
"I don't want you to...waste your money on me."
"I'm not wasting anything," Wooyoung countered. "If anything, I've got too much money, it makes me sick."
"...Then why can't you get yourself a new pack of cigarettes?" San asked before he could stop himself.
Wooyoung just waved a dismissive hand. "Parents can't know I used their precious card to buy myself some cigarettes, I already screw up enough." He let out a gasp that caught San off-guard. "Shit, did I get too personal? We barely know each other, right? So just forget I ever told you this, okay?" He reached out and, ever so softly, poked San's wrist.
Heat fizzled underneath San's skin at the touch, and it made him swallow. Hard. He coughed, hating the way a mere poke from Wooyoung made him feel. I'm such a fucking loser.
"Okay..." His fists curled.
"So, what are you ordering?" Wooyoung had already taken out his phone, his thumbs clicking over the screen.
"Whatever you want," was San's reply. He was indecisive, and he didn't even want ice cream in the first place. "I don't even like ice cream that much, to be honest."
Wooyoung looked up from his touchscreen, his expression baffled. It only made San a lot more anxious. "How the fuck can you not like ice cream? There are a bunch of different flavours you can choose from, and it always makes you feel better. Look -- " he then leaned it, and his close proximity left San feeling breathless, as weird as it sounded. Up close, his hair looked even softer, and San could spot a small mole right below his left eye. His skin appeared smoother too, and his lips glistened as a result of licking them a few seconds prior.
"Hey, Choi. Are you even listening to me?" Wooyoung's words were like a verbal slap to San's face. He immediately recoiled, his heart moments aways from nearly popping out of his chest.
He winced when Wooyoung lightly smacked his arm with the menu.
"I was here trying to explain the absolute wonders of ice cream, and next thing I know, you're completely zoning out. That's why you're such a loser."
Ouch. The way San's chest constricted was painful.
"Only cool people like ice cream. And for you to be cool, eating ice cream is a must."
"I just -- " San paused, shutting his eyes. What even was this entire conversation? "Fine, okay. Whatever."
Wooyoung, for the first time, grinned, and San felt his insides turn into mush.
* * *
Wooyoung got him too much ice cream, but it didn't matter when San couldn't finish it, because the former was more than eager to have it all to himself.
Why even order ice cream for me when you're just gonna take it anyway? San thought, watching as Wooyoung finished off his and San's ice cream bowls. He couldn't complain though since Wooyoung like he was in a great mood, and he liked seeing the other boy smile even if he wouldn't want to ever admit it.
When both teens exited the shop, the sky had already begun to dim, the peachy skies bringing out the brown in Wooyoung's eyes. They even seemed warmer, somehow.
"Since you ate the ice cream I bought, you're practically my servant now," Wooyoung spoke, alerting San's attention.
San almost choked on nothing in surprise. "W-What?"
Wooyoung turned to face him, his expression back to being blank. "The ice cream bit was an initiation. And you passed."
"What?"
"I really wanna smack you right now, but you told me not to touch you and I fuckin' respect that. So I won't smack you. But stop acting like an idiot," Wooyoung's right brow rose. "It doesn't suit you."
Embarrassment, mixed with a bit of anger and that mushy feeling in his chest that wouldn't go away, was all that San felt at that moment. He bit his lip, not wanting to show that the other's words had affected him. "I'm not an idiot. You're...being kind of rude."
Wooyoung barely looked bothered. His lips just twitched a bit. "I'm only rude to people I like."
San absolutely refused to dwell on the boy's words. Wooyoung had already confused him too much for one day. "I have to head home."
"You're my servant now, so I get to decide when you leave."
San stared at Wooyoung, wide-eyed.
The black haired male chuckled. "Kidding, Choi. But, I need your number."
San's tongue dried. "F-For what?"
"Need to find a way to reach you whenever I want us to do stupid shit together."
San had no idea what the 'stupid shit' consisted of, but he already didn't like the sound of it. "I don't... I'm just -- "
Wooyoung pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Just what, asshole? What, you think I'm hitting on you or something?" The pale yellow colour of the sky had darkened into this soft pink hue, enhancing his features even more. He looked far too delicate for the words he almost always spoke. "Did I give you that impression?"
San shook his head, his neck pulsing with warmth. He felt so embarrassed, wanted to be anywhere but here. He cautiously passed his phone over to Wooyoung. "N-No..."
"Good. Wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea anyways..."
* * *
What? You think I'm hitting on you or something?
Wooyoung's words at that ice cream shop had echoed throughout San's mind the majority of that night. He didn't even know why he was even thinking about it. Of course, Wooyoung didn't like him like that, and San didn't expect him to anyways. From what San had seen of the guy at school, he didn't radiate gay vibes at all.
But, why did Wooyoung suddenly want to hang out with him?
San had no homework for the day, which totally fucking sucked, and Seonghwa was still at his job, finishing up his shift. So that left him alone with his thoughts, which was a bad thing as far as he was concerned.
Usually, his mind would be filled with bitterness and how much he despised and hated himself for what he did and what he was, but now, his mind was clouded by Wooyoung's gut-wrenching words. Great, San just couldn't get a break.
He closed his eyes, and immediately the sight of blood coated the back of his eyelids. He gulped and thought about Yunho's grandmother, and his guilt only started to worsen.
It's not your fault, Seonghwa would always tell him, but San never believed him. Not even once.
I fucking kill people just by living, Hwa.
His phone, slightly cracked from when he'd dropped it yesterday evening, buzzed from where it lay on San's bed. He took it and saw he had a text message.
- unknown number
hey, loser
- unknown number
its me, wooyoung
- san
hello
- wooyoung
save my contact name as
'choi san's master'
- san
already did
- wooyoung
wait, really?
- san
mhm
- wooyoung
great. now i can sleep well
Don't think about his words too much, San told himself.
- san
okay
- wooyoung
good night, weirdo
- san
good night
San was utterly and wholly confused. And he didn't like it one bit.
* * *
a/n: thoughts?