aren't we too young for this?

wooyoung san

04.08.17

three weeks since his eighteenth birthday. just under that amount of time since he's last kissed jung wooyoung. properly, at least.

that's the catch, in getting a tongue piercing. the healing. san thinks there's a metaphor in there somewhere: having to heal before you can have something beautiful.

the healing meaning he's restricted to a liquid diet, and kissing is out of bounds, unless he wants a painful infection. which he does not, hence his compliance. wooyoung certainly hasn't been happy with it, complaining every chance he gets and arguing an infection can't be that bad and san should just deal with it.

the latter consequence seems infinitely more significant, as san is desperate to give him what he wants. but he can't, if he wants the piercing to heal smoothly. at first it had been uncomfortably inflamed, sitting oddly in his mouth, but then the inhibitor just became an irritation.

luckily for him, it has healed fine by now. wooyoung has been asking him every other day how it feels, and if it's okay to eat solids (and kiss) yet. san thinks he'll surprise him.

the boy has been keeping him preoccupied enough to take his mind off his birthday, for one. what it means, specifically.

glancing down at his left forearm, san regards the covered area of skin apprehensively, dubious curiosity surfacing. he wonders who's name is there for half a second before averting his eyes in frustration and annoyance at himself. better to remain ignorant of whatever truth his arm beholds.

revisiting the other thing on his mind, he can hardly suppress an appeased smile. being with wooyoung lately gives him such a forceful dose of alleviated felicity it's hard to concentrate on anything else. kissing him feels different to every other kiss he's partaken in, and there's been more than enough to make that judgement. 

although they haven't gone all the way, the simplest touch he shares with the blonde leaves him in shambles: a barely recognizable drunken fool, especially since they haven't been able to kiss much lately. something about him makes it painfully difficult to maintain control over his desires, and san loves that, but hates it at the moment, given the restraint he has to have. all because of a fucking piercing.

a part of him questions why he hasn't just gone straight to the sex like he has with most of his conquests, but wooyoung isn't just another conquest. he's not sure about how he'll feel about taking his virginity, either, and wants that to be entirely on wooyoung's terms. if it ever happens, which will also be entirely up to wooyoung.

thinking about this particular topic is difficult for him. he has to sit down, and breathe properly again. in, out. of course, seonghwa notices.

the two are in san's room, smoking a little weed together. the raven haired had been pacing wordlessly for the past couple of minutes, letting seonghwa have most of the spliff.

"done spiraling?" the bright blonde haired boy prompts, giving him a meaningful look through glazed eyes.

"something is wrong with me." san deadpans, clasping his hands together and knocking them against his forehead. he doesn't want to talk about the memories his spiraling is surfacing. weed always gets him too talkative, too open.

"we been knew, but go on." seonghwa replies, mildly serious as he leans forward a little.

"i can't make sense of what the fuck i'm feeling." he continues, ignoring the comment. "wooyoung is driving me insane."

the older provides him with a knowing look, seeming to hold back another undoubtedly insightful comment, simply handing him the half smoked joint.

"have i ever told you about my sister?" the sharp turn in conversation throws seonghwa off guard, and he displays a puzzled countenance, shaking his head. san nods insightfully, taking a short drag.

if he's not going to talk about that, he may as well talk about this. he has to talk about something, to share these feelings with someone.

san sighs, exhaling a thick plume of smoke while he shuts his eyes for a moment. "she was everything to me before she- before she died. and... she was blind." he checks subtly for his reaction, and the older is definitely taken aback. "any older brother would be driven to protect a little sister, but given our circumstances, i'm sure you can imagine how i felt."

"shit, man." seonghwa whispers, nodding.

"and i did," san tells him helplessly, as if convincing himself. "i protected her with everything i had. everything-" but it wasn't enough. he breaks off, raising his eyes to meet his friend's concerned ones. takes another puff, inhaling deeply.

"so i can't help but wonder. is the only reason i want to protect wooyoung because of my sister? is this the universe's way of letting me repent for the failure of her protection? by meeting him?" his words tumble out, fervent with grievance.

"is protecting him the only thing you want to do?" seonghwa leaves the question hanging in the air, wiggling his eyebrows. a million images of wooyoung and his perfect lips and stunning eyes and gorgeous figure rush through his mind at once, and he even forgets the joint between his fingers, letting it burn away.

"no," san breathes, grinning goofily. "of course not. i want to touch him, and kiss him, and not allow anyone else to do those things. i selfishly want him all to myself, and for him to know that. i want to spend every last day before he turns eighteen with him."

"i feel like you should be telling him these things, rather than me." seonghwa suggests, pulling a face. "why don't you?"

san shakes his head erratically, savoring one last inhale before handing the last of the spliff to seonghwa again.

"because that would be unfair to him." he reasons. "to encourage him to feel for me, when i don't want him to be with someone like me. it wouldn't be fair to him to fall for me, because out of a thousand different scenarios, i don't see any of them ending well." it's me who doesn't deserve a happy ending. he deserves everything.

"i guess you have your reasons, but that just doesn't make a whole lot of sense." seonghwa replies in a daze, and san draws his shoulders together inwardly.

"how did she die?" he ventures softly after a stretch of silence, changing the subject a little.

"suicide." san answers, eyes flashing. "she was fourteen." he doesn't elaborate. he doesn't know why he's telling him. "don't usually tell people that. sorry."

"i- shit man, i'm sorry." seonghwa closes his eyes regretfully, beginning to sympathize with his friend a bit more. the words cause him to finish the weed, shortly after.

the younger gives a weak laugh, nudging his shoulder to break the tension. "don't worry about it. let's talk about something else, hey?"

the platinum blonde haired shifts uncomfortably, taking the suggestion gratefully. "i still think you should talk to wooyoung."

"about which part exactly?" san wonders, eyes creeping to his left forearm for a brief moment.

"whichever part you feel like talking apart." seonghwa replies ambiguously, "something tells me i know more about you than he does."

"that's because you're my bestie." san blows him a kiss, avoiding acceptance. "closest friend in the world." his friend punches his arm jokingly, and san stumbles, falling back onto the bed. that's good. to lie down.

"oh?" the older makes a sound of surprise, "then as your certified bestie, i can politely encourage you to get off your sorry ass and stop living like it's the eighteenth century. i think what you'd both benefit from is a good shagging."

"you can encourage me," san wags his finger in the air in front of his face from left to right. "but he's got to decide if he wants that. a good shagging. me, i certainly do. ohoho yes. but it's his choice. bet you haven't fucked yeosang, yet. still avoiding your destiny?"

"ouch." seonghwa places his hand over his heart, but smirks. "wouldn't you like to know."

san flicks his wrist dismissively, waving the cocky blonde away. "no, in fact, i do not."

he doesn't bother mentioning the obvious difference of their situations: yeosang and seonghwa are soulmates. all they did was succumb to the forceful shove of fate; it didn't take much effort.

before he can decide whether or not to pose that argument, seonghwa face palms, remembrance befalling his features. his eyes are reddened, face incredibly relaxed, but he's suddenly acting like he's solved an einstein level equation.

"i just remembered," san raises his eyebrows expectantly, albeit apathetically. "yeosang told me to tell you that wooyoung's parents told him- wait, no-"

"just spit it out!" san hurries him impatiently. "don't overcomplicate the information."

"uh, right, so," the older smiles sheepishly, gesturing with his hands. "wooyoung's parents are coming home soon. and yeosang thinks that wooyoung needs someone right now other than his best friend."

"...see where i'm going with this?" san stares at him blankly. "ugh, why do my soulmate and i have to play matchmaker for you helpless bastards! this is the perfect opportunity for you to talk to him, idiot! he needs company right now. and perhaps some good old fashioned dick."

"he's never told me about his parents before." san comments offhandedly, placing his hands into his chest as he examines the ceiling. seonghwa groans.

"you both suck at communication! this is why you're so confused, san. talk. to. him." he claps between the last three words for emphasis.

"it's hard to talk when all i want to do is attack him with my lips." san's shoulders slump. "violently."

his friend throws a pillow at him. the younger tries to dodge, but ends up toppling off of the bed and hitting his hip on the side table.

"ouch..." he complains with a giggle, while seonghwa laughs hysterically. rubbing the spot mournfully, he climbs back onto the bed. "that's going to bruise."

"serves you right." the older muses smugly, and san throws him a dirty look. "maybe you'll get some more bruises in the near future, if you're lucky."

"huh?" the younger questions, freezing up. he suddenly feels very heavy, like he won't be able to get up even if he tries.

"it's a hickey joke. jesus, has it been so long that not even bruises have a sexual connotation?" his voice sounds far away, and san's head is spinning.

another bruise. san's head feels like it's sinking into the sheets, his throat constricting. so many bruises, especially where he held him down. littering his young skin.

"san?"

some on his lower back, when he turns in the mirror. the shower can't scrub them off. can't get him clean.

"are you okay?" the older's question snaps him back from dissociation, and he blinks.

"y-yeah." san swallowed, nauseous. "i'm fine. i don't know, weed must've been laced."

"nah, it's hitting me fine." seonghwa contradicts, looking at him quizzically. san tries to ignore the low buzzing in his ears. "you better not be thinking of chickening out."

"no." san answers quietly, supplying a tightlipped smile. "i'll talk to him."

-

another long chapter for you poor woosan starved folks~

this coronavirus tho yooo ateez cancelled their european tour AND my school cancelled my france trip mateee

but srsly i hope all of you and your families are safe <3

xxx

edit: "this coronavirus" oh babe you werent ready it got rescheduled and they just cancelled itAGAIN

spliff = joint
shagging = having sex

i promise i'm not british guys i adopted some of the slang though since moving here :,(