wooyoung san

07.09.17

immediately following wooyoung to the sink, san directs him further in, ensuring all the puke is aimed at the drain. his body shudders, weakly falling against the counter.

now, san knows wooyoung is a lightweight. but he's smart enough to know when to stop, to get to the pique and no further. so he can't help but wonder why wooyoung has been so careless tonight, why he's been pushed to this point.

"it's okay," he tells him when wooyoung tries to mumble something, only to throw up again. "just let it out."

it's a little awkward, standing there while wooyoung is sick, unsure whether he should rub his back or just let him get over it himself. but san's reluctant to leave him alone, especially in this state.

"ew," he groans, hanging his head in the sink, breathing too hard.

"yeah," san agrees, lifting wooyoung's head up and bringing him away from the puke-filled sink. "lean on me,"

wooyoung follows the instruction, enthusiastically putting too much of his weight onto san. stumbling, he gets an arm around his waist to support him, running the tap to rinse the sink.

"y'smell good." he mumbles against him, flopping completely against san.

"okay," san replies, watching the tendrils of vomit run down the drain. he squints, wiggling the tap a bit.

"i swear m'not that drunk," wooyoung rambles, dropping his head onto san's shoulder. "or i wasn't. i really wasn't that drunk, y'know? don't know why i'm throwing up. oops..."

san leans back on him, still watching the water run. "shouldna kissed you." he apologizes, head feeling heavy.

he feels wooyoung give a half-assed shrug as he reaches to turn off the tap. "meh," is his grumbled response.

sighing, san pushes off of the counter. "cmon, let's get you lying down."

"hmn." he agrees, letting san lead him. "just for a bit."

the house is busy, and it's hard to find somewhere quiet. all the bedrooms he tries the door of are occupied, so it doesn't seem like they'll be lucky enough for a bed. even a couch would suffice.

eventually, he finds an empty bathroom, overjoyed with the discovery.

sinking to the floor, san embraces the cool tiles, back against the bath tub. seeming to have misplaced his cane some time in the night, wooyoung had been relying on san. but he chooses this moment to not follow his actions, eagerly scrambling into the empty tub.

"wooyoung," san groans
half-heartedly, turning himself so he can prop his chin on the tub's ledge and survey him.

the blonde's mint suit jacket is crooked, hanging oddly on his frame. sitting there in the tub, wooyoung brings his knees to his chest, hugging himself.

"get in the bath," he nags, resting his head atop his knees.

looking at him now, with a more level head, san notices the smudging of his smoky eyeliner, and questions how wooyoung is making the raccoon look work.

"no," he replies, aware of the silence in here compared to the blaring music and laughter outside. it's drowned out, muted. his voice rings out.

wooyoung pouts, curling into himself. "why not?"

"i like the floor just fine," san mutters, pressing his cheek against the cool granite.

he's sobering up, thoughts clearer. the buzz is mostly gone, but san does feel a little nauseous. wonderful.

there's a cup with a toothbrush in it on the side of the bathroom sink, which san eyes as if it's the top of a hill and he's sisyphus, rolling his boulder. but unlike sisyphus, he manages to get to it, tipping the toothbrush out apathetically.

after filling the cup with water, he returns to his position on the floor, sipping once before handing it to wooyoung.

"drink up." he tells him, pressing it against his cheek gently. "sip slowly, though."

"yessir," he mumbles incoherently, running a hand through his wavy hair, reaching for the cup.

san stops, doubling back. "w-what did you say to me?" he asks, the corner of his mouth tugging up.

"yes sir." wooyoung repeats more confidently, gazing up at him cheekily through hooded eyes. they shine mischievously, blue stars dancing like tiny flames.

san lets slip a laugh of disbelief, and when wooyoung tries to take the cup, he releases too soon, dropping it. the water splashes all over the blonde in the bath, causing him to exclaim and flinch back.

"fuck, fuck," he swears, scrambling for the cup and apologizing. "sorry—"

"it's okay, it's okay," he's actually giggling, hands clumsily undoing the single button of his jacket.

wriggling out of the wet article, wooyoung shrugs it off, beginning to pull at the similarly wet turtleneck. it's already form fitting, but the water is making it stick to his body.

"woah there, princess." he murmurs, leaning a little into the tub to stop him. "no need to get naked."

wooyoung shuffles forward on his knees, his hands finding san's collar to keep him there. "can we dance?" he asks suddenly, fingers brushing his neck.

"dance?" san repeats, eyes darting over his face, so close.

"yeah," he whispers, gaze falling to san's lips. "i had fun, dancing."

"don't think you're sober enough yet." san says, disappointment tugging at him when the words make wooyoung let go.

"am too." he pouts, leaning back.

"but," san wavers, both hands gripping the edge of the bathtub. "you are under no obligation to do what i say. so go ahead, dance."

that makes his eyebrows draw together, his face twisting as he leans forward again. "sounds like a trick."

"it's not." he returns, challenging. "go dance, if you want,"

"okay." wooyoung affirms decidedly, struggling to get out of the bathtub. "i will."

"okay." san repeats, unmoving. he just watches, as wooyoung makes his way out, clumsily gripping the sink and rinsing his mouth out with water.

done, wooyoung fumbles to screw the tap shut, proceeding now to the door, using the walls to help navigate himself out.

the blonde spares him one backward glance, seemingly about to say something. but he doesn't, leaving san sitting there in a daze.

he gives it a minute, considering.

smirking to himself, san sighs, following suit and walking out of the bathroom. he jogs a little to catch up, touching wooyoung's arm to let him him know he's here.

then, san grins, pulling wooyoung with him into the throng of people dancing. he can hardly see the dance floor, it's wall to wall people dancing to the club themed music. there's no room for any more but somehow when they hit it the space magically comes.

the music is all crazy edm but they're dancing like it's jive, twisting, turning, holding hands as they change sides. they're all grins, perhaps looking like idiots. inside san is just happy, happy and more alive than ever. one moment, one brilliant feeling of togetherness suspended in time.

rainbow, flashing lights rev up his soul, periodically lighting up wooyoung's face where he's dancing in front of him. his blue eyes shine back at him, seductive in this atmosphere.

that gaze, on him, has the music become distant. has all his senses focus on wooyoung, narrow down. san gets his hands on wooyoung's bare waist, drawing him in towards him.

his eyes drop to his exposed abdomen, drinking the sight of his smooth muscles, the way they move as wooyoung sways his hips. he bites his lip when san's hold tightens, arms going around his neck.

a moment later, wooyoung turns, lifting his arms around san's neck behind himself, leaning his head back against his shoulder and rotating his hips against him in a way that seems entirely inappropriate for a public setting. but no one cares, many couples dancing similarly, more promiscuously.

the desire he's been feeling all night intensifies ten-fold. his mind is muddled with the alcohol and all he can think of is how much he wants wooyoung out of those clothes.

shudders creep over his skin, all his nerves coiled tight and lit up like the flashing lights as he reaches round to hold wooyoung's waist. his body feels too hot, the crowd surrounding them fading into white noise. the only thing he can hear is his own heartbeat.

his hand flattens on wooyoung's stomach, fingers brushing up under the hem of his top. skin hot under his touch, san drops his head to the crook of wooyoung's shoulder, other hand going to his neck where it's tipped back against his own neck.

san lets his fingers brush his jaw, dropping his hand to the base of his throat.

and when wooyoung arches himself to press his ass against san's crotch, grinding on him dangerously, he tightens his grip.

"you trying to make me go insane?" he hisses lowly against his skin, applying a little more pressure.

wooyoung's throat bobs under his hand, swallowing with difficulty. "maybe— i'm just trying- to make you follow through- on your offer." he manages, grunting.

"which offer?" san's eyes are dark, his heartbeat erratic. he adjusts his grip, applying pressure to the centre of his throat so he can feel wooyoung's adam's apple bob more acutely.

wooyoung shifts, using his body to press himself against san's own firmly. "the one to fuck me-" he gasps, gritting the words out. "in front of all these people. right- here-"

that makes him stop, letting go. he turns him around by the waist, so they're facing. "jesus," san breathes, dipping his head to brush their lips slightly. "you're actually trying to kill me."

and he thinks wooyoung might really kiss him, again, here, in front of everyone. in that second, all his wants and desires concentrate, culminating. but the younger is moving away, something distracting him.

"phone vibrating." he mutters, motioning for the device in his trouser's pocket.

disappointed, the fire in san settles evenly, simmering out. he pulls wooyoung out of the crowd, weaving through the people. once they're somewhere quieter, san watches as he pulls out his phone irritatedly, holding the speaker to his ear.

san can't hear what the message says, but doesn't miss the way wooyoung's face falls, contorting.

"hongjoong..." he slurs, and san prickles. "here to pick me up."

he doesn't want to move, but wooyoung's coming closer to him, slipping his phone away.

"don't want to," he says, resting against him again. "we're having fun."

wooyoung's clinging to san, now, limp against his side as his head hangs in the crook of his neck. san's arm is around his shoulders to support him, trying to prevent the boy from tripping over.

wooyoung raises his head to try look at san, squashing his cheeks with his hand. san makes a noise of protest, stumbling. he feels the blonde losing balance. instinctively, san's arm drops to his waist, circling around and holding him close. the blind boy shivers under his touch, falling onto san more in his drunken state.

"told you you're not sober enough." he murmurs. "how drunk do you still feel?" the blonde makes a vague gesture, signifying a lot.

on the other side of the room stands hongjoong, having just entered. he watches them for a moment before pushing his way through the partiers to stand before them.

"i'm here to take him home." he says coldly, eyes narrowed.

san fakes a smile, unable to forget wooyoung's earlier fear. he clears his throat, hauling wooyoung upwards so the blonde isn't draped over his body. the movement is only met with incoherent complaints; he doesn't even seem to acknowledge hongjoong's presence.

"sorry," san apologizes. he's hyper aware of wooyoung's hair brushing on his neck and his cheek pressing against his chest, along with the arm that's draped around his own shoulders. he doesn't loosen his hold on wooyoung's waist, surveying hongjoong carefully. "he's completely gone."

the oldest of the three crosses his arms, not trying to mask his dislike for san. "and why did you let him drink so much?"

san shrugs. "i don't control him. he does as he pleases."

hongjoong bristles, sensing the slight accusation san's hinting at. "just give him to me."

wooyoung picks that as the time to contribute to the exchange, pulling at san's shirt. "don't want to." he slurs, and san almost thinks he's faking the level of his drunkness.

he's definitely not letting wooyoung go. not before he has all the facts. "you heard him." san says. "he doesn't want to."

"well i'm his boyfriend," hongjoong seethes, stepping towards them. "his soulmate. he's coming with me."

a barely audible whimper sounds from wooyoung, his grip tightening on san. "no," he whispers, tugging.

"i don't think he is." san's voice hardens, decision final.

hongjoong scoffs, bracing to advance again. if he has to fight this guy, san will. in fact, he wants to. maybe it's the alcohol, but no one's face has ever looked more punchable.

but hongjoong raises his hands in mock surrender, mouth twisting in a horrible kind of angry smile. "fine."

and with that, he turns around, leaving. san exhales, bristling with heated anger.

he's this close to following hongjoong outside, satisfying his murderous urges. but then wooyoung looses a shaky breath, his voice grounding san.

"take me home," he whispers, sounding on the verge of tears, wobbly.

"of course."

-

nothing like escaping your abusive relationship via alcoholism and the affair you've been having that on surface level is all about sex but in reality your connection to eachother is more profound than anything else

^silly little rough sketch of them at the dance i did
xxx