san wooyoung

06.08.17

due to the hasty calamity of the situation, wooyoung's definitely a little shaken up, clasping his cane in nervous hands as he goes to meet his parents at the door. his hair is still wet, and he scrubs at it one last time with the towel before chucking it aside.

san's footsteps sound slowly behind him, staying in the shadows so not to interfere with the reunion. wooyoung is intensely aware of his presence, skin still tingling everywhere san has touched him. it's definitely going to be hard to maintain his composure if the older gets near him.

the sound of the door unlocking tears his mind from the recent memories, his heart rate increasing rapidly with the uncertainty of what may happen next. a million thoughts race through his mind about what he is going to say to them, what they are going to say, about everything he wants to say to them and how little he will end up voicing. anxiety is practically radiating off of him, wooyoung habitually swapping his cane from hand to hand in attempt to calm his nerves.

"wooyoung?!" the surprised voice belongs to his mother, her touched exclamation warming him a bit.

"mom!" he smiles broadly, bright eyes darting unseeingly over where he thinks her face is. mrs. jung is not a particularly affectionate woman, but wooyoung can't help but throw himself into her unsuspecting arms.

she lets out a sound of surprise followed by a short laugh, rubbing his back in one circle before releasing him and clearing her throat.

"what're you doing here?" he questions, still smiling. "you're early!"

"it was supposed to be a surprise-" his father's voice enters the conversation, tone changing when he notices san. "who's this?"

"this is san." he introduces awkwardly with an off laugh, shuffling his feet. "he's my-" but wooyoung stops. what is san to him? what is he supposed to say to his parents, when he himself doesn't know the answer?

"his classmate." san finishes for him, and wooyoung would be able tell anyone who asks the exact moment his heart hits the floor. "i'm wooyoung's classmate: choi san. i was, uh- assigned to help him for the year by the school. we were studying."

wooyoung knows he's not about to be introduced to them as a 'casual lover' or something of that category, but wouldn't friend have at least sufficed? could you call someone you'd taken the virginity and the heart of nothing but a classmate?

"oh! lovely to finally meet you." his mother exclaims happily, and wooyoung feels her move past him already to greet the older. "headmaster jeon did inform us of the arrangement. i hope our son is not a burden to you, mr. choi."

burden. his smile falls. nice to hear his parent's view of him has not altered. some things stay the same. everything makes sense again- the reason they are so focused on curing their poor son is to rid the world of a 'burdened' version of him.

"nothing of the sort, mrs. jung." san replies, and the edge in his voice is sharp.

wooyoung provides a forced smile, tapping the floor with his cane softly. "we were studying, but he was just leaving."

"what's the rush? he can stay for tea-" his mother begins to suggest, but mr. jung interrupts considerately.

his hand squeezes wooyoung's shoulder gently, coming to the rescue. "we need to talk with our son, honey. alone"

mrs. jung gives in, seeing san off while wooyoung stays unmoving next to his father, staring detachedly into the void. he feels the breeze as san passes him, electrifying his senses and causing his breath to catch in his throat for a moment that feels longer than time itself. everything slows in that second, then speeds to normal and halts abruptly. he's gone.

-

sitting in the living room with one's parents might seem like something totally normal for some, but to wooyoung it's totally unfamiliar - at least in his teenage years - so the present happenings seem awkward and surreal.

"well we may as well get straight to the point." wooyoung's father starts off eagerly, taking his son's hands in his own and squeezing them excitedly. he can practically see him, in his memories, pushing his glasses up his nose as he gets excited.

"your father and i found the answer in madrid." mrs. jung announces formally after a prolonged moment.

"the answer to what?" he asks hesitantly, almost afraid fo hear what's going to come next. well, he knows, but the notion is too implausible to fathom. it can't be. they can't have.

"there was a case," she continues, not quite answering him directly yet. "just like yours. all of our research has paid off, darling. we finally have an explanation."

wooyoung closes his eyes, nodding slightly to himself in assurance of reality. this is actually happening. will i really be able to see again? or is it another false alarm? it isn't the first time they thought they had found the nameless cause of his condition.

"i can tell what you're thinking, wooyoung." mr. jung intercepts his doubtful cascade of plummeting hope. "it's for real this time."

their son takes a breath, giving his father a returning squeeze with his an unsure hand. he has no idea what to expect, but nothing can prepare him for the irony of the truth. the universe has a cruel way of inflicting its humor.

"in ander and omar's case, ander was blind." his mother begins to untangle the reasons behind his years of unexplained pain. "it's like- have you heard the myth of your world going black and white when your soulmate dies? it's almost like that. while we talk, please try to understand. that's what ander told us, wooyoungie. it's not fair. not fair you got this end of the stick. but try to understand."

mrs. jung stops, appearing to need to collect herself. his father continues instead, tone heavy. "the blindness is an unnatural and dubious phenomenon. it's not medical- we know that. omar's avid disbelief in a future with ander and his firm inclination to not be with him led to ander's condition. his blindness was personified through omar's clouded judgement. his soulmate was forced to live with the consequences of his actions and lifestyle."

the truth drills into wooyoung's soul, and he wonders if he would have been better off without it. consequences? unexpected (yet justified) anger sparks within him. he's always accepted his blindness just like that, with nothing more to it. but to now learn that there is more to it- how is this fair? that it's someone else's fault?

"don't be too angry, sweetheart." mrs. jung comforts, yet his anger only grows. "omar went through a lot. an inconceivable amount of hardship. you have to try to understand your soulmate, and forgive them. whoever they are. that's what your father and i have been telling ourselves from madrid to south korea. and it's not all bad-"

"how can it not be all bad?!" wooyoung interrupts, tearing up in frustration. his voice is shrill, louder than he expects, cracking.

"ander got his sight back." the words stop him short. "when we met him... he could see. he and omar are happily soulmates. as impossible as it sounds, the universe always has its reasons. its ways. it compensated after the love between them was mutually accepted."

hope is a bright star in wooyoung's hopelessly dark universe. the nascent sunlight of the idea caresses his consciousness, baring promise he has never before dared to imagine. but there it is. seeping through the cracks come its golden aspiration, the light at the end of a tunnel of an irreversible caliginosity.

yes. for the first time, he has reason to allow himself to hope.

•••

wooyoung san

eavesdropping by the window of jung wooyoung's house would not go down in the history of san's proudest moments.

but there he is, unable to keep himself from feeding his starving curiosity. until he decides he's heard enough. the story leaves san with an unwelcome feeling of recognition in his gut, the hatred of the nagging irk filling him with desperation to rid himself of it. he doesn't want to believe nor accept his suspicions.

yet wooyoung's face comes to his mind too easily, too quickly. the blonde never leaves his mind, he's always there, mentally if not physically. it's just incomprehensible. wooyoung is like san's one stable force, his one stability in a world filled with chaos - and he so desperately needs that in his life.

he's falling for him. falling hard, and san cannot believe he's only just realizing it. the feeling is so strange; it stretches throughout his whole body. it's overwhelming, yet offers comfort. it has no bounds nor lengths nor depth; it's just absolute.

no. san objects to himself, terrified of vulnerability. you can't do this to him.

he knows the beautiful blonde boy has fallen too. wooyoung is hopeless at hiding his feelings, especially with those expressive eyes of his. they display a thousand words he may never voice. but he deserves better than san. so much better.

this. this is his fault. this is because- because hongjoong is wooyoung's soulmate. and san's getting in the way.

he feels sick to his stomach, nausea chilling him. this is his fault. he's the obstacle, the factor in the way.

so, what are you going to do? the voice in the back of his mind eggs him on, cruel humor in its awful tone. you're going to do what you do best.

externally, san gets angry at himself for knowing exactly what he has to do. a part of his soul screams and thrashes and shouts- desperate to break free, to voice its own opinion and express what he daren't admit to.

you're going to do what you always do.

"shut up!" he yells into the sky, voice thick with tears. san is well away  from the house now, his feet carrying him as far away as they can. "just shut the fuck up!"

there's no point in telling himself what he already knows. he's going to ruin everything. he has to- has to get wooyoung to hate him, so he can get with who he's meant to. with who the universe intends.

yes.

taking a deep breath, san opens his phone and dials someone's number. someone he knows will not pass up the opportunity to sleep with him, and someone who will definitely hurt wooyoung more than a girl like chengxiao.

he swallows thickly, trying not to be sick. to cry. he has to do it.

-

ouch :( i wonder who👀

if u r confused... i don't blame you haha i'm practically illiterate so feel free to ask questions

sigh time be running away with me lately :,)

xxx

edit: i feel as clever as did back then for this plot twist damn my brain is so big too bad san's is so small

i think comments stay when i edit the passages if they stay in the same place/format?? gonna try be cheeky and take advantage of that x