i wanna be defined
by the things that i love
not the things that i hate
not the things that i'm afraid of
not the things that haunt me

san wooyoung

26.09.17

san's love is a force of nature, when he really lets himself feel it. it consumes him, enveloping every aspect of self he has, ultimately defining him. it's written all over his face, his being covered in wooyoung.

a tattoo would be an inaccurate description, because even that, you can get rid of. wooyoung is branded, emblazoned into his very soul, part of him. which is why he doesn't think he'll ever uncover the name on his forearm, because he's pretty sure it isn't him. that anxiety is too much, and san would rather live in this redefinition of love wooyoung has given him.

waking up with him is a feeling san is quite accustomed to, but not one he'll soon grow tired of. every opening of his eyes to wooyoung dozing in front of him is like the first time, a new experience that deserves its own song in the album of san's life.

by the controlled steadiness of his breaths, san finds wooyoung to be still asleep. his eyes dart restlessly beneath his eyelids, causing them to flutter.

this close, san can see how much his dark roots are growing out, the blonde less bright. it's a mark of time, one that makes san think reflectively.

forgive me for what i'm about to do. he thinks, kissing wooyoung's forehead gently. "forgive me, princess." san's voice comes soft and level, slightly husky, thick with sleep.

but he's made up his mind. better plead forgiveness than ask permission.

memories of their conversation last night are too fresh, too raw, for san to do nothing about what he's learnt.

he remembers wooyoung opening his eyes, head tilting in san's direction sometime when they woke in the night. "this is it, huh?" he had said after a moment, ever so quietly. "no more pretending."

"we don't have to talk about it immediately," san hurries to assure him, sitting up a bit.

"don't we?" he replies hollowly, expression unchanging. san's heart seizes, cracking a little.

"whatever you want." he hesitates to reach for him, brushing some hair from his face gently.

at that, wooyoung crumples into his touch, shoulders sagging. he snuggles up closer to san, hiding his tears in san's chest.

"sorry," he mumbles, sniffing.

shaking his head instinctively, san draws his arms around him, shuffling their position. "shut up. don't you dare apologize."

that gets a weak laugh out of wooyoung, as he automatically apologizes.

"so do you want to tell me why you called me, last night?" he encourages, causing the warmth of wooyoung's body against him to shift a bit.

wooyoung hums, struggling to find the words. it takes a few minutes, more muttered apologies, but san waits. isn't prepared for the dry laugh he utters, and what follows.

"it's kind of a funny story, actually." san can only assume it isn't. there's hesitation, and then: "he hit me."

that makes san freeze, thawing his vocal cords, his nerves, nothing in his body working. it make him sick, bile rising in his throat, muscles tensing.

"it's not that big of a deal," wooyoung adds, when he can't find the words to respond. "it only happened once. maybe twice, if i'm being finicky... but naturally, i wanted to leave. hongjoong, he didn't want that. so."

san finally remembers to breathe, a heavy exhale freeing itself from his tightened chest.

"it doesn't matter how many times it happened," he reasons, failing to keep his voice level. "and it is that big of a deal. if he did it twice, he'd do it again. and the way he speaks to you, wooyoung..." san breaks off, cracking.

"i know," tiredly, wooyoung raises himself further onto san's body, properly snuggling him. "i know."

enveloping him in the hug, he's conscience of wooyoung's hot shaky breath on his skin, the smell of his peachy conditioner and autumn scents clinging to san's clothes on his body prominent in the dark.

"i'm so glad you called me." san musters, caressing his hair, in some drunken daze. it's surreal, to have in his arms, again and again. "the thought of you still there- i just- i can't."

after a moment, san ceases stroking the soft strands, bringing his face to cup wooyoung's cheek. "i know it's not my place, but i'm making it my place." he says, and the blonde's eyebrows pinch together. "did you... have you broken up with him?"

wooyoung smiles sadly, lulling into san's palm. "i'm not sure he understands the concept of breaking up. we're..." he trails off, averting his gaze. "i'm his soulmate, after all. soulmates aren't known to not be together. to love other people."

san drops his head, nosing into his hair. "you really love me? you're saying it sober?"

"yeah. i guess i do." he replies, an arm snaking around san's waist. "there's a first time for everything, right?"

voice heavy with disbelief, with amazement and adoration, san says: "don't say it like that. it sounds like you're agreeing with me. say it like you mean it, if you do."

"i love you." wooyoung annunciates, poking san's side. "even though you are an arrogant bastard fate doesn't want me with. it only makes me want you more."

closing his eyes, a helplessly disbelieving laugh exits him, insides twisting and fluttering. "that's awfully romantic."

so yeah, wooyoung loves him, really loves him, and san just needs some kind of explanation, some kind of understanding, some kind of closure, and ultimately needs to ensure hongjoong's going to stay away from him.

getting out the bed as quietly as he can, san shimmies from under the covers, slipping out. wooyoung needed him last night, so he stayed. but now, san can go talk to hongjoong.

talk. that's what san intends. he's never looking for a fight to begin with, but san's always had a bit of a temper.

changing into a simple black t-shirt and keeping on the sweats, san doesn't even bother combing his hair. he opts for gum, not having time for brushing his teeth or grabbing a bite to eat. priorities.

driving to hongjoong's college is another blur, his vision red. the anger is fresh, hotter than yesterday now that it's not diluted by the worry.

veins stand out on his hands, gripping the wheel too tightly. it's honestly a surprise san's license has not yet been revoked.

before he knows it, san's banging on the door he's seen more times than he'd like, promising himself this is the last.

"open up," he says loudly, no hint of request in the hard tone.

san doesn't even know what time it is, doesn't half care, suddenly feeling very unprepared now that he's arrived at his destination. truth be told, san never fucking thinks. there's a few protesting shouts, bangs on the wall, sounding from various rooms.

an incoherent grumble sounds behind the door, signaling that someone has heard him. it's probably hongjoong's roommate, so san tries to compose himself.

"hello?" the boy manages incredulously, opening the door a crack and peering out with weary eyes.

"is hongjoong here?" san cuts straight to the point, face unchangingly set in stone.

"fuck, you again? yeah, he's..." tired boy (jinyoung?), starts, trailing off as the man san's actually here for appears, opening the door all the way.

"hey!" hongjoong smiles, he has the audacity to smile, and san almost punches it from his face immediately, his fist literally twitches.

taking a deep breath, san pulls him forward by the front of his shirt, forcing him outside. the smile falters, his lips pulling up in more of a smirk.

"don't hey me." san seethes, flaring his nostrils, stepping away now that they're outside. "don't ever speak to me again. not after today. not to either of us."

"us?" hongjoong quotes mockingly, eyes blown wide. "you're an us now? you and my soulmate? my boyfriend? what do you even see in him, san? not that it matters," the smirk widens, reminiscent of junhee. "he sees nothing in you."

"you just can't resist a blind joke, can you?" san spits, shoving him. the fuse on his temper is running shorter and shorter, burning out. "did you ever try to understand him? even once?"

that makes hongjoong's face fall, the front slipping. "of course i did. i had experience, too, working with the- the visually impaired-"

san's harsh laugh interrupts him, "don't give me that. i know you never fucking volunteered at the hospital. i know you love lying more than you ever loved wooyoung. but god help me, try help me understand- why did you hurt him?"

"i didn't." hongjoong cuts in immediately, defensively. "i never fucking hurt him. i do love him. he's perfect. he's mine. he can't ever go anywhere, because-"

"he does not belong to you." san reels, fingers flexing.

"so what, be belongs to you?" hongjoong sneers, edging closer to him. it's like he's begging to be hit.

"he doesn't belong to anyone." san argues, clenching his teeth. "if he wants to leave me, i'll let him- that's the difference between you and me."

hongjoong hums, considering. "but you want to keep him, don't you? pretty thing he is? you want him all to yourself?" he doesn't stop, advancing. "it's addicting, right? that little sound he makes, when he's kissing you, all desperate and needy-"

and that's it. that's the nail in san's coffin. before he knows it, he's throwing out his arm, balling his fist, connecting with hongjoong's face.

punching him, hard, pain ripples through his knuckles and shoots up his arm. hongjoong's head whips sideways, body falling backwards with the sudden force.

he draws back, still positioned in a triangular defensive stance in case hongjoong retaliates. but the man just laughs unabashedly, holding his face as tears well in his eyes.

he points at him, still laughing. "and i'm the violent one?" san seems to have done exactly what hongjoong wanted him to.

"you're fucking insane." san exclaims conclusively, stepping forward to shake him.

and he's been so caught up, so preoccupied, that he did not even notice hongjoong's bare arms. his naked forearm. the name imprinted there.

he snatches hongjoong's arm, disbelief surging like waves inside of him. "what is this?" he asks, eyes bright and wide and darting all over the place. "what the fuck is this?"

all hongjoong does is laugh, he keeps laughing while san shakes his arm, tears of frustration beginning to prick his eyes. he feels hot all over, sick, angry, nails indenting into hongjoong's skin.

"you're fucking insane," he accuses hysterically, catching his breath.

"wooyoung is not your soulmate," san's voice is raw, wrecked and confused, body shaking. "why- why?"

hongjoong falls back on his haunches, pupils massive, hysteria twisting his reddened face, swelling already purpling his jaw. "i say things." he breathes out exclamatory, short bursts of laughter sounding between breaths. "i say things. and they just keep coming. and sometimes even i believe them, when i say them enough."

"fuck you," san curses him, letting go of him. he stumbles back, quivering all over, almost sure he's going to be sick. "i don't care. fuck you."

he has to get home. has to get back to wooyoung. has to know—

"i'm leaving." he manages, deathly quiet. "and you're going to stay out of his life. unless he says otherwise."

-

every day i consider deleting my account more seriously xx i cannot help but be MORTIFIED by things i write even if i liked it at the time.

it's a constant struggle?!?!!

xxx