i can feel you all around me
thickening the air i'm breathing

san wooyoung

14.07.17

the following days are normal, passing as every other. san seems insistent to deny the fact he's eighteen now, and what that means.

it's rather unfair, in his opinion, because wooyoung doesn't know what it entails for their arrangement, and the discussion is clearly not on the table. somehow, he's ended up having feelings for san. he hadn't meant to, but somehow his heart has placed itself firmly within the uncertain hands of choi san.

and san can absolutely not, under any circumstances, find out about wooyoung's feelings. that is, if kibum's words have any truth to them. because that will really fuck things up, as he's currently explaining to yeosang, yunho and mingi.

the four of them are in yeosang's room, lounging on his large bed after a tiring week at school, embracing the weekend friday promises. he's realized he has not been spending as much time with his friends as he should be, and wants to make up for it as well as lift a weight from his shoulders and get his feelings off his chest.

"but why not?" yeosang presses, confusion in his voice. 

wooyoung sighs dramatically, pushing his fingers through his wavy hair. "he'll push me away. that's what he does to people who care about him, or so i've heard. i'd rather for that not to happen."

"wait," wavers mingi, slow on the uptake. "so you and san are, y'know-"

"it's complicated." the blonde mutters, plopping his chin into his hands. "it was his birthday earlier this week, so he should have a soulmate, but he doesn't want to see the name, so-"

"but he wants to be with you?" yeosang confirms doubtfully. "it's giving very selfish fuckboy."

"i guess, but-" wooyoung interjects, but isn't actually sure what his argument is. he doesn't have one, and san does come across that way.

"i knew him a while back," mingi offers thoughtfully. "he didn't seem that way. pretty decent guy, all in all."

"agh, it's so frustrating!" complains the youngest of the four, throwing his hands up. "everything i hear about him is from other people! i wish he would tell me himself."

"but that would involve being honest about his feelings," yeosang finishes for him, "and that's not exactly in the cards."

"it's your choice, really." yunho speaks up, after having listened in contemplative silence. "he's made his position quite clear. it up to you how you respond."

"you really think this is okay?" mingi questions skeptically. "san has a soulmate; it's not wooyoung. he shouldn't pursue him."

"it's not that simple," wooyoung argues, crossing his arms. he's trying to convince himself just as much as them that this is okay, and finds himself adopting some of san's ideology. "we both have a right to be with each other just because we want to, and not because someone else told us we have to be."

yunho must have nodded, or display some kind of agreement wooyoung can't see, because mingi suddenly gets upset.

"i didn't know you felt forced to be with me." he says, hurt.

the bed shifts, and one of them seems to get up from the bed and walk out of the room. wooyoung sits dumbfounded- soulmates aren't supposed to fight or argue. they're meant to be perfect.

"mingi!" yunho calls after him, and the bed shifts again, more frantically. "babe, that's not what i meant!" his voice gets more distant, so the younger figures he's gone after him.

the blonde purses his lips, feeling the awkwardness hang in the air. the outburst had been sudden and unexpected, and both he and yeosang sit without knowing what to do or say.

"do they argue often?" wooyoung ventures, tilting his head. he's the only one in the present group without a soulmate, and cannot hold back his interest.

surprisingly, yeosang laughs. "what? no," he answers assuringly, indifferent. "it's natural for soulmates to have a disagreement now and then. perfectly healthy."

his untroubled words are followed by a little 'ting' as he receives a notification, and wooyoung raises his head expectantly. of course, it is impossible for him to have known yeosang is texting someone, and that leaves him with an odd feeling in his stomach.

"sorry," his friend apologizes, explaining. "seonghwa's texting me. he wants to come over and hang out with us."

wooyoung doesn't see a problem with that. he wants to get to know his best friend's soulmate better, and says as much. yeosang hesitates, wavering as another message pings through.

"what?" wooyoung has to ask when the other doesn't confirm or deny anything.

"uh, he wants to bring san with him." yeosang explains. "apparently they're friends..?" great. another thing i don't know about him.

"that's fine." wooyoung shrugs stiffly, biting his lip. "it would be weirder if you said no. no reason for things to be weird."

"cool." the older affirms contently, and the blonde can hear him typing away at a reply hastily.

soon after, they hear footsteps trudging back into the room; he guesses this means mingi and yunho have made up.

"that was quick," muses yeosang incuriously, and mingi lets out a huff of halfhearted annoyance.

"he called me sensitive." the pout is obvious in his voice, and wooyoung can't help but smile in relief that his friends are okay.

"because you are!" yunho tells him affectionately. "but i wouldn't take your name off my arm for anything in the world."

yeosang and wooyoung let out a simultaneous "awwww" sound, swooning over their cheesiness. while the mood is lifted, the younger can't help but feel a little sad after those words. would the person who appeared on his arm be someone who feels similarly? san certainly doesn't think that way.

the brunette on the bed clears his throat, weight shifting as he stands up. "anyway, seonghwa and san are coming, so i'm going to make some snacks."

yunho whistles, and mingi comes in to pat wooyoung on the shoulder sorrowfully. "and i'm going to get the alcohol," the former comments, leaving wooyoung with mingi.

"i'm underage!" the blonde complains after him childishly, crossing his arms.

it's never bothered him before, but being the youngest in the group is hard when he's the only one without a soulmate. he just can't relate to them in the same way they could with each other as he's never felt that kind of undying love.

mingi seems to sense his mood, and the bed dips down next to him as the taller sits on it to comfort him.

"whoever's name is printed on your arm is lucky to have you." he tells him, and wooyoung makes an incoherent noise. "you don't have much longer to wait, so hang in there."

while he's thankful for his words, he can't hold back what's been festering as one of his deepest fears for the past few years. "i'm blind!" he exclaims, the two obvious words seeming meaningless by themself.

"i'm blind, mingi." he continues, his voice shaking. "is my soulmate going to want to be with me when they find that out? to deal with me? i've been thinking about it a lot, now that most people i know are turning eighteen. even san-" he breaks off, refusing to admit where he'd been going with that.

"wooyoung," mingi comforts gently. "do you... do you hope that it's his name on your arm? yours on his?"

there are tears on his face now. "he's just so cool about the blind thing, y'know?" he answers quietly, wiping his eyes stubbornly. "san gets it. he doesn't judge me- it's unfair, mingi! why doesn't he want anyone to love him?"

the older hugs him, letting him finish crying. wooyoung feels stupid for being like this; his emotions are getting the better of him. he has no business crying over someone else's choices. but what's frustrating is san can't choose if people love him. it's wooyoung, who has to decide if he'll let himself care too much about someone who ultimately will push him away.

"this might sound crazy," advises mingi teasingly once the blonde calms down. "but maybe you should ask him why."

the younger was about to explain that he can't just shove what could be years of potential childhood trauma into san's face and force him to explain it all, but yunho has come back into the doorway. he knows it's him because the bottles clink in his hands, and yeosang steps more lightly.

after taking in wooyoung's tear-stained face, yunho tuts to himself before announcing cheerfully, "i've got the drinks! and it looks like we're going to need them."

a knock sounds on the door from downstairs, and mingi laughs nervously upon hearing it swing open.

"wooyoung's going to need a head start." he jokes lightly, getting off of the bed and patting him sympathetically again.

yunho obliges to the suggestion, handing the younger a cold bottle of whatever it is. he pours some of it down his throat, and immediately recoils when the liquid burns into his system.

"it's strong!" he hisses through his teeth, and yunho just laughs mysteriously.

"don't ask questions, oh ye who is not of age. simply drink." wooyoung hears mingi smack his soulmate lightly over the head.

he sips a little or a lot more, wanting enough of it in him to take effect by the time he heads downstairs. given the universe's cruel gift to him of the trait of being a lightweight, that doesn't take very long. hearing indistinct conversation from the kitchen, wooyoung heads down, buzzing warmly.

the blonde first remains timidly behind the wall of mingi and yunho, hiding a little cowardly as they make their way to where the other three are chatting. or rather, other two, because he has not heard san speak yet.

alas, yunho does not seem to catch his drift, or just hates him, because he ushers him out from behind the two when they arrive at the kitchen.

seonghwa makes an impatient sound of relief. "finally. save this moody bitch from himself, wooyoung, i beg of you." he mutters, presumably indicating san.

"you wouldn't believe what he says about you-" yeosang's soulmate continues, but is cut off by a clearing of the throat.

"shut up." san snaps, the hard words still music to the blonde's deprived ears. he likes hearing him, and wants to be nearer to him, now that they're closer.

wooyoung smiles sheepishly, waving with the hand holding the strong tasting unidentified alcohol. "hiya san." his voice sounds too happy; perhaps the drink is hitting him already.

the raven haired takes one look at the bottle and throws an accusing stare to mingi and yunho while seonghwa went goes over to talk softly to yeosang.

"who the fuck give him that." it's an accusation rather than a question.

"don't look at us," yunho plays innocent, while san takes the alcohol out of the blonde's hands. "he wanted it."

"uh-huh," confirms wooyoung, his blue eyes widening indicatively. before he even knows what he's doing, words are tumbling out. "and why're you acting like you care, mr boohoo i hate feelings?" the words keep coming out of him.

"you let me think the worst after you spouted all that shit and left me nothing but a vague voicemail. so don't come here telling me what to do-" he breaks off with a hiccup, forgetting what he wanted to say, and san takes the opportunity to interject.

"did you talk to kibum? what did he say to you?"

"what did he indeed," wooyoung  mocks, "diD i tALk to- oh yes, i certainly did. told me your life story just about. at least all the really depressing bits and loads about j-"

san catches his wrist, catching him by surprise so that he halts mid sentence. private information.

"don't- don't talk about that here." the raven haired falters. "please." he adds begrudgingly as an afterthought.

yunho clears his throat as if he hadn't been listening to every word, stepping around the pair awkwardly to follow yeosang and seonghwa with mingi.

"let's go somewhere else," san suggests, sliding his hand into wooyoung's and lacing their fingers together. "but not the roof; it's too cold."

the blonde swallows, only able to nod. the taller leads him up the stairs again, until they come to yeosang's bedroom. having walked this route so many times, the younger doesn't need help, but doesn't want to let go of san's hand.

the darker haired leads him to the bed, which they sit on the edge of. a slightly tipsy wooyoung wants to be closer to san, and leans his head onto his shoulder.

conscious of their private accommodation, the blonde tilts his head sideways coyly, blonde strands of hair falling across his forehead. he isn't sure he's breathing, heart hammering out of control against his ribcage.

"please don't talk about jungwoo." san says lowly, close enough for wooyoung to smell mint faintly in his words. "he's history, and i don't want you to compare yourself to him."

averting his blue eyes, wooyoung considers. "he did say that i reminded him of him. it's hard not to compare."

san's arms pull him closer towards him in a sideways hug. "i understand," he admits, nose turning in to wooyoung's hair. "but jungwoo is long gone. i'm long over him. and i don't want to talk about him."

nuzzling gratefully closer, he can't help but mention this: "he made it sound like you were still in love with him."

"i never was." san whispers, "now shh..."

the blonde giggles softly at the pressure of san's finger against his lips, shushing him. "tell me about your new tattoo, then."

san hums, shuffling further back onto the bed and anging his body to face wooyoung's.

"here," san murmurs, guiding wooyoung's fingers to his wrist. "i'll  show you." 

his mouth falls open a little in surprise and intrigue when his thumb finds the bumps on san's skin, tracing the lettering with his fingers.

"it's a braille tattoo," he explains softly, wooyoung silently caressing the inside of his wrist. " sub dermal implantable surgical steel."

the younger climbs up to his side and props himself up a little, fascinated by the little bumps on his soft skin.

"what are these numbers?" he asks quietly, thumb stilling as he takes san's hand in his own, interlocking their fingers.

"my sister's birthday." he says simply, sounding sad but somehow at peace.

wooyoung hums, squeezing his hand in his own gently and bringing his lips to his wrist. he brushes them in a barely there kiss over the tattoo, reading the numbers over and over.

"did you get any other tattoos?" he asks, glancing up to where san is gazing down at him.

"yeah, but this one's ink." he explains, and wooyoung smiles, liking the thought of san's body adorning inky lines and patterns.

"show me," he taps his wrist with his fingers, raising his hand so san can guide him.

a breathy laugh exits san, but he takes hold of wooyoung's wrist nonetheless, bringing his hand to his right forearm. he explains it's just simple, and guides wooyoung's finger around the shape, taking him through it slowly.

wooyoung decides he likes it, which makes san laugh again because how can he like it, if he cant see it? to which the blind boy just scoffs and traces the shapes again, having memorized what san told him.

"there's one other thing seonghwa tried to talk me out of..." he says sheepishly, and wooyoung narrows his eyes curiously. "i got a tongue piercing."

oh. that's... oh. the blonde opens his mouth and closes it, feeling himself buzzing oddly. he's not sure what to say, mind suddenly caught up with imagining all the things san could make him feel differently than last time because of the addition of a tongue piercing.

"oh," he says dumbly, eyebrows immediately furrowing at himself. he sits up slightly, finding his bearings by placing his hands on san's shoulders. "can i..?" he trails off, leaving the question hanging.

he hears san swallow audibly, realizing the other boy is in a similar state to himself. "y-yeah. go ahead." he sounds like the words were stuck in his throat, unable to stop the stutter. "it was swollen on the first day, but it's healing fine now."

a smile flashes on wooyoung's face as he goes to cup san's cheeks, his thumb resting on san's lower lip. san's not moving at all, he seems to be holding his breath. wooyoung's thumb moves forward a little, meeting the hotter, wetter side of san's lip. the older's mouth falls open slightly, his breath hitching and tongue lolling heavy in his mouth.

it's probably a good thing wooyoung can't see his face right now. because he's pushing his finger deeper into san's mouth and god he can barely suppress a little moan, unable to help his heartbeat increasing rapidly nor the way his eyes roll back a little.

then wooyoung's finger is on his tongue, feeling for the piercing, and san puts his hands on his waist instinctively, pulling him into his lap. the movement causes the thumb to jerk in his mouth, and yeah san's definitely going to go insane.

the metal is cold against wooyoung's touch, a wonderful contrast to the heat of san's mouth. it's firm and solid, a complete opposite to the wetness of his tongue. he circles the stud just once, curious to find out how much it moves and how it works in relation to san's mouth.

he's reading san all over again, pressing his thumb on his tongue gently, and familiarizing himself with the bit of metal. "i like it." he says after an antagonizing couple of seconds. "it suits you."

he's withdrawing his finger and letting go of san's face, and san can't have that. he catches his wrist before it can fall, pulling wooyoung's arms around his neck and surging forward to kiss him.

he likes how familiar san's lips feel on his. there's something different about the kiss - not because it's chaste or sweet(it's not) - but because despite the heated clashing of their mouths, there is something soft there.

san kisses him like he's pouring all his emotions into it, the force knocking wooyoung's head back. he hums in content into san's mouth, sliding their tongues together as san gasps when wooyoung tugs his hair. the stud is even better under wooyoung's tongue, adding a different sensation.

it's not long before he's got his hands under san's shirt, nails diggings in as his muscles ripple beneath. he falters in kissing him, because suddenly he's aware he's reading.

there's braille between san's shoulder blades, beneath wooyoung's fingertips, and he traces the words in confusion. san's kissing down his neck, his tongue wet and hot on his skin. he shivers whenever san's teeth graze him, but he's trying to concentrate on the words on san back.

the tattoo he deigned not to tell him about. it reads "to love is to destroy and to love is to be destroyed".

he doesn't tell san he's found the tattoo. instead, he drops his hands and loops them around san's neck again, drawing him as close as he can manage. their chests are pressed up against one another, and wooyoung presses the back of his neck into the kiss, holding san in place. he rolls his hips slightly where he's sitting in san's lap, and his mouth goes slack against wooyoung's.

now the kiss is almost painful, because wooyoung's pouring his heart into it. trying to show how he feels wordlessly. let me destroy you, choi san, he's chanting. destroy me.

-

xxx

edit: braille tattoos are a real thing! very cool