There is light discussion about groping/sexual assault in this chapter along with non-explicit sexual content. Please avoid reading if these topics are sensitive to you.

⸻·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♡ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙⸻

The walk back is quiet. A storm lingers overhead, nearby thunder softly booming in the distance as it climbs closer. Wooyoung walked next to San towards their apartment complex, hands unsettled and mind tipsy. He was embarrassed at his behavior, the rash decision to kiss his best friend so freely, as if he had all the right in the world to do that.

By the look on San's face, it looked as if San hated what he did. Wooyoung hates himself now, more than he did after being fired from his shitty job, more than he did when he drank himself into oblivion at the beach house. He was confused, partially, always questioning why these feelings were becoming urges, and why the hell they were so damn strong?

He's been with San for a long time. Their friendship was unusual, yes, but nothing that would ever make him think this is how they'd end up. He didn't want to hurt San, but it felt so natural to kiss him again. God, Woo. Get your head out of the fucking gutter.

The trek into the apartment isn't much better. The silent journey up the stairs, down the hall and towards their apartment door, listening to the silence become a rain cloud that hung over them as San's jingling keys filled only a part of the quiet void.

"You're home–" Seonghwa, who was sitting on the couch with his Switch, announces lightly, raising a brow at San who walks directly past him and into his room. Wooyoung closes the door behind them, leaning into the door once it's fully closed. "What did you do?"

"Why are you automatically assuming it was me?"

Seonghwa's eyes narrow.

"Right. Well," Wooyoung scoffs. "I uh. . . I fucking kissed him! Is that what you wanted to know? Because now I feel like a jackass and my feelings are more confusing than they ever have been and I want to crawl in a hole and die."

Seonghwa's eyes widen, switch leaning forwards in his hands as he nearly drops it, mind completely stuck on the idea that his roommates kissed again. "What the hell is going on with the two of you?"

"I don't know, Hwa." Wooyoung's hands hide his face, rubbing his tired eyes with a muffled groan.

"I know you guys kissed two days ago." Seonghwa sets down his game, watching Wooyoung freeze with a rigid body. His heart dropped into his stomach. "San told me."

"Oh my god." Wooyoung could seriously cry at this point, but it was likely the alcohol tricking him into doing so.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not judging either of you." Seonghwa stands quickly, pacing towards his friend who was sinking to the floor against the closed door. Seonghwa crouches down to meet his friend, hands on his wrists as he gently pulls his hands away.

"I hate myself." Wooyoung admits coldly, eyes red from the four beers he drank earlier in the night. Wooyoung didn't want to admit that he could barely feel the liquor in his stomach, this was pure emotion sinking in through his pores because his drinking tolerance was shot to shit.

"Hey," Seonghwa gently smacks Wooyoung's chest at his comment, shaking his head. "No you don't."

"I do, hyung. I do."

"There's no reason to."

"I fucking kissed him! Twice! We're just friends, like I don't even know–"

"You love him, don't you?" Seonghwa's words sink into Wooyoung's brain. Oh shit.

"That's a loaded question." Wooyoung is scared shitless now, looking into his friend's gaze that was softly staring back at him. Seonghwa was always going to be honest to his younger friends, wanting nothing more than to console them and help them, but this seemed out of his comfort zone. Wooyoung and San's friendship had always been platonic regardless of the amount of touching and kisses they shared. It was just their dynamic, always kissing eachother's cheek or smacking eachother's ass, it's just how they were. But something about their friendship never seemed surface level, like there was something lingering beyond both of their gazes; a secret neither of them wanted to admit.

"You don't have to answer me, Woo. But you should seriously consider your feelings before you guys talk again. Otherwise your friendship could be at risk."

At risk? "I uhm." Wooyoung can feel his words catching in his throat. "I don't really know how to feel."

"That's not uncommon. Feelings can be scary." Seonghwa considers a second thought, letting the words rest on the edge of his tongue before speaking timidly. "He's your best friend. I don't think you should be scared to talk to him."

"But, at Mingi's party. . . I forced him to kiss me. I basically just did the same thing! He never says no to me, and I wish he fucking would."

"Woo," Seonghwa coos, trying to calm his frantic friend. "You're overthinking. I don't want to speak for San, so I'll tell you this; you're only seeing your half of the story, have you bothered to see his?"

"Well, no." Wooyoung said shyly, looking down at his legs as he sat on the floor hopelessly.

"Then what's the point of making assumptions for something you don't know?"

"I don't want him to hate me, Hwa." Wooyoung can feel tears climbing into his throat, reaching for his tongue as he sits against the door, chest heavy with the fear of abandonment. Seonghwa looks at his friend with pure sympathy, hands slowly retracting from his wrists and to his palms, holding him with a gentle grasp.

"He's never going to hate you. You guys were made for each other." Seonghwa smiles at him, doing his best to relieve the tension sitting in Wooyoung's body. "It's inevitable. Feelings are something you can't control sometimes. There's no need to be ashamed of them."

"Are you sure? Because I feel pretty shameful."

"Stop it." Seonghwa smacks his hand lightly, watching a brief smile cross Wooyoung's lips.

"I'm gonna make dinner. Go hang out in your room and clean up that horrendous mess and let San come to you. I'm sure he's got a lot to think about."

"You're not gonna help me clean that?"

"Nope." Seonghwa watches Wooyoung frown.

"What if I beg?"

"That's my cue to leave. Have fun." Seonghwa smiles at him, giving his friend a few reassuring taps on his shoulder before standing and walking away, walking past the couch and into the tiled kitchen. Wooyoung sighs as he dejectedly stands from the floor, pushing himself into a slow-paced walk, almost hoping Seonghwa would turn around and offer to help, but the offer only lingers in Wooyoung's mind.

The door closes behind him, eyes staring at his trashed bedroom floor riddled with thrown books and controllers, pieces of shattered glass askew from the memory of cutting his hand open. It wasn't that bad of a mess, but god, it was going to take awhile to clean up his broken mirror.

He carefully makes his way through his room, grabbing the trash can seated near his desk. His lungs fill with a rolling sigh, trudging over to his anger-induced mess to begin to pick up larger shards of glass.

It takes a long ten minutes to clean the glass from his carpet, using tape to grab smaller pieces embedded within the curls of knitted carpet. Seonghwa had come in momentarily to vacuum parts of Wooyoung's carpet, then left his roommate to fix and clean his own mess again.

The next couple of minutes revolve around Wooyoung re-assorting his books, settling them onto his shelves in a new layout, making sure there was space for every single novel.

He can smell Seonghwa's cooking crawl from under his closed door, filling his room with an almost irresistible aroma, one that drove Wooyoung crazy. His bed is made, carpet clean and laundry piled into the basket instead of his floor. It had been thirty minutes since he came home and sank to the floor at his front door, and San was still locked in his room.

"Woo?" Seonghwa knocks on his friend's door, opening it slightly, just enough to poke his head in. "Food is done."

"Has San come out?" Wooyoung answers from his desk chair, eyes in his phone as he spins his chair slightly, nerves tingling at the edge of his spine.

"No, he hasn't."

"Fuck." Wooyoung shuts his phone off, setting it face down on his desk. Seonghwa sighs, entering further into his room as his eyes take in the sight of a former apartment disaster now seemingly spotless.

"Just give him more time. Try not to focus on it right now."

"What'd you make?"

"Pasta. Nothing special." Seonghwa watches Wooyoung grab his phone and stand from the safety of his chair, eyes uninterested and tired, barely sober.

"Is there soju in the fridge?" Wooyoung watches Seonghwa hesitate, unsure of how to answer.

"I think so? But I don't know if you should be drinking right now–"

"Can you pour it out?" Seonghwa is settled with surprise, finding it hard to express his confusion to Wooyoung's unusual, but understandable, request.

"Yeah, yeah. I can do that."

"Okay." Wooyoung starts to leave his room, Seonghwa following closely behind, leaving Wooyoung's door ajar.

The kitchen is clean, a pot of pasta warm beneath a tempered glass lid, clouded with steam. Seonghwa grabs them two bowls, handing one over to his friend as he opens the lid and melts at the aroma of the random noodle dish.

Seonghwa didn't cook often in the apartment. He'd rather order take-out for his friends than cook anyday, but he was a self-proclaimed comfort cooker, and something about Seonghwa's comfort pasta sounded heavenly right now.

They settle on the couch, eating their dinner wordlessly as the television passes screens of different advertisements, nothing in particular grabbing the attention of their dead-stare viewers. The bowls empty quickly, leaving Wooyoung to lean into the couch with a full stomach, the taste heavy on his tongue as it lingers. But something sour was gnawing at his stomach; a fear, something laid dormantly behind the layers of his chaotic mind.

He was worried. Deathly worried.

But as his mind trembles to numb thoughts, a door opens to their left, causing both of the males to turn their heads to watch San appear from the threshold of his room only an hour after he isolated himself. They said nothing, almost waiting for San to say something first, but he didn't.

He simply walks to the stove, inspects the pasta for a second, then turns to Seonghwa, pointing to the black pot.

"It's just pasta, Sannie." Seonghwa affirms, to which San shrugs and grabs himself a bowl, taking a small amount before placing the lid back over the cooled pot. His steps are light as he heads back for his room, nearly through the threshold of his door before Wooyoung shouts after him.

"Can we talk?"

Wooyoung's words register in his ears for a second, but as he turns, his gaze is softer, redder than usual, tinted with something Wooyoung couldn't place. "Come on."

Wooyoung nearly jumps off of the couch at the offer, but not before Seonghwa takes his empty bowl from him, letting their bowls clink together as he sets them on the coffee table. Wooyoung hurriedly heads for his friend's room, tossing a quick, hopeful gaze over his shoulder towards his hyung, who can only smile at him reassuringly.

Wooyoung closes the door behind him, turning to see San settle at his desk with his computer flashed to life. His tower was beaming with bright blue LEDs, humming as a game runs in the background. San leaves his headset resting on the stand to his right, holding the bowl against his chest as he leans into the press of his chair. Wooyoung awkwardly heads further into the room, sitting on San's unfortunately familiar bed, eyes raking over San's tired and confusing expression. San ate quietly, almost waiting for Wooyoung to speak first, but based on Wooyoung's nervous behavior, San guessed that he'd have to speak first.

"Woo," San sets down his bowl after taking a few more hungry bites, looking over to his timid friend, watching his hands pull at the hem of his shirt. "You're everything to me, you know that right?"

"You're everything to me, San'ah." Wooyoung says softly, eyes averting his friend's gaze.

"But you didn't answer my question," San leans forwards, hands intertwining with one another as they rest on his spread thighs. Wooyoung can feel San's eyes on him, almost like daggers piercing into his bare skin.

"No? Yes? I don't know."

"You do know." San's tone is low, but his voice is more gentle than he expected. San wasn't talking down to him by any means, instead was talking to him, but Wooyoung didn't feel deserving of San's kind grace.

"San'ah–"

"Can I just talk for a second? Please? I have something I need to get off of my chest and I really just want you to listen to me." Wooyoung's eyes trail upwards, afraid to say no.

"Go ahead."

"Look, Woo. The last couple of days has me genuinely spinning. I've felt like I've had a migraine with all of these raging thoughts, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. Something happened at the beach house to us both, and I don't–" San takes a breath, eyes wincing slightly. "I don't think we've been honest. I've talked myself to hell and back over this and I can't seem to find a conclusion to what these feelings mean."

"I didn't want to force you into feeling anything." Wooyoung admits, eyes planted towards his crossed legs.

"There is no way in the world you could ever force me to do something I didn't want to do. You could rob a bank and I'm sure I'd be there with you."

"A death pact? San'ah, that's a bit extreme."

"You're my other half, don't you see that? Everything we do is for each other or with the other. There is no me without you. Woosan, I guess." San laughs lightly, eyes finding it hard to keep staring at his friend. "I don't know how to be me without you."

"So is what Mingi said true?" San raises his brow.

"What Mingi said?"

"That you don't bring home girls because I'm always in your bed?"

"The more I think about that, the more I believe it." San isn't looking at Wooyoung in time to catch his widening eyes, but he feels the air grow stagnant between them. "I never thought about how much I think about you, and how much I revolve my plans around you. Yunho made it pretty clear to me one night that you needed me. For some reason, I didn't believe him at first. But, after we kissed, I started to believe it more and more. It hit me like a truck once I realized how much I needed you too."

"What are you saying?"

"We're reliant on each other for different things. You come to me for comfort and support. I help you sleep and keep an eye on you to make sure you don't do anything stupid, and you–" San suddenly finds it difficult to continue, hands gripping each other tightly with whitening knuckles.

"I what?"

"You show me love. A type of love I've never felt in my life." San catches tears in his throat and swallows them haphazardly. "My parents are not paternal at all. Business type, you know that. Work, work, work. . . all the fucking time. There were never vacations or family dinners, just maids and babysitters basically raising me while my parents made money nonstop. And you just show me all of this love that I don't know how to receive and suddenly I'm feeling things I have never felt towards anyone."

"Feelings? What kind of feelings?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Woo." San's eyes suddenly lift, bloodshot and heavy, staring straight into Wooyoung's sobering gaze.

"No," Wooyoung shakes his head, almost wanting to cry. "I need you to say it."

"I can't." San pitifully laughs at himself, hands finally letting go of one another and landing on his knees, leaning back into his chair once more. "I really fucking can't."

"Please." Wooyoung's voice is soft and mumbling, almost hoarse. San's eyes snap back to the bed, watching Wooyoung's expression begin to fall apart. He was losing it, eyes empty but encouraging, pleading almost. San couldn't keep this from him anymore, not when he felt like everything was boiling over.

"I love you, Wooyoung. I don't mean as a best friend like it has been for years, but more. I mean it–" San's gaze falls, afraid to see the rejection pile over his friend's expression. "I mean it like that."

Wooyoung is speechless, heart beating loudly in his ears as the three words ring in his mind. This was something he never thought he'd hear, something he had long ignored raging inside of his thoughts relentlessly in the shower, allowing the hopes of something more with his best friend to drown into the shower drain.

He sits there for what feels like the longest two minutes of San's life, stunned in silence with his eyes glued to his hands. But the moment Wooyoung looks up, watching San's hopeless eyes suddenly find light within them, Wooyoung's heart warms and his lips pull into a soft smile.

His body moves without hesitation now, standing from the bed with strands of his ebony hair drifting over in front of his eyes. There was an innocence pulling at his gaze now, one filled to the brim with love and longing. San watches him, still leaning back in his chair, welcoming Wooyoung's approach towards him as Wooyoung's hands find his shoulders, then his neck. San stares up at him, confused and love-stricken, heart nearly beating out of his chest. Wooyoung just smiles at him, hands snaking upwards towards his jawline as his fingers gently trace soft lines along his skin.

"I love you too, Choi San. I always have." Wooyoung's voice warms San's chest, heat flushing to his cheeks lightly as Wooyoung leans down, pressing his lips to San's. It's euphoric, almost like every missing piece had finally been connected in one blissful confession. San's hands find Wooyoung's waist, pulling him even closer. No one hesitates and no one pulls away in the quiet of San's room, inhaling each other's breath as lips part and press together again.

San rises from his chair slowly and hesitantly, feeling Wooyoung's hands drift to the back of his neck, a smile curled on his lips when he pulls away briefly and says, "I'm sorry I took so long."

San kisses him for a second, whispering a confession against his lips. "I would always wait for you."

But as they press together again, stomach to stomach, waist to waist; the kisses feel hungrier. Wooyoung's steps begin to drift backwards, San obediently following his every move until they inevitably stumble against the bed. Wooyoung's calves collide with the mattress and San can feel him giggling against his lips.

San's waist-gripped hands slowly drift forwards, pulling at the hem of Wooyoung's shirt, snaking his hands underneath to explore undiscovered territory. Wooyoung's breath hitches at the contact, feeling familiar hands scale over his abs and ribs. But before Wooyoung can protest, though he never really would,, San's hands pull the shirt from over his head, discarding the material to his floor, leaving Wooyoung shirtless and flushed.

Wooyoung evens the playing field, hands scaling down San's sides and waist until he pulls the black shirt over his head without hesitation and San lets him. Kisses and all, San feels intoxicated. He's overwhelmed in emotions surging from their sudden want for one another in a new light, head dizzy and mind racing, but he doesn't care. Wooyoung is here, pressed against him and kissing the breath from his lungs. There isn't anything more in the world he wants than this right now.

San's hands find Wooyoung's shoulders as he gently pushes him onto the bed, almost immediately climbing over him, one hand glued to his waist while the other threatens the boundary of his pants.

Wooyoung is so honestly sober and something inside of him promises to never drink again if this is the outcome of staying abstinent. He'd do anything to have this again. San was finally his and he was San's in this moment; that's all he ever wanted.

San's lips grace over Wooyoung's own once more before adventuring further, pressing kisses on his jaw line, then under his ear, but drift even further to press against the pulse in his throat. San was going to leave bruises at this rate, but Wooyoung did not fucking care anymore. He just wanted him in a way he never wanted anyone else. He wanted him close and to be his.

Wooyoung's hands occupy themselves in San's hair, pulling very gently as they comb through his freshly washed locks. San groans against his skin, kisses slowly trailing back up his neck and jaw, back to the familiar warmth of Wooyoung's lips.

"You're driving me crazy," San mumbles against his lips.

"Then be crazy with me, San'ah." Wooyoung's eyes meet the ones staring down at him, hands playing with the strands of hair loosely hanging between his fingers. "There's nothing else I want right now. I just want you and only you."

San smiles at him, connecting their lips feverishly. San's hands fumble around with the hem of Wooyoung's jeans, tugging the zipper open and pulling the fabric down, Wooyoung doing his best to kick away his bottoms as he lay exposed beneath the male. San's eyes graze over Wooyoung's features lovingly, making mental note of his small imperfections and how smooth his skin was, dipping his head down to plant kisses in every delicate place he could manage. His hip bones, his collarbones, his abdomen; San wanted to cover the male in marks, claiming his stake to finally having something he had longed for for years.

Wooyoung squirms beneath his touch, biting his tongue, hand threading through San's hair as his hips rise and fall from the bed with every gentle kiss.

"Are you sure that you want this, Woo?" San mutters as he leans closer, kissing his neck and jaw as he asks.

"Yeah–" Wooyoung's breath hitches when San bites his throat, but he keeps his composure. "There's nothing more that I want than you right now."

"No regrets?" San hovers over Wooyoung's lips now with a smile, looking down at the male with a lidded gaze.

"Never again." Wooyoung smiles back, his voice warm and quiet. San kisses him gently, feuling their fire to burn brighter, unwilling to let their flame extinguish.

San reaches over towards his bedside table, rummaging around before pulling free the items that he needed, setting them down on the bed nearby. Wooyoung wants to ask a million questions or say a hundred things, but as he looks up at San, the nerves of sleeping with best friend drift away and melt out of his pores. He loved him. He well and truly did.

The click of a bottle cap stirs Wooyoung's attention away from his thoughts, dragging his attention back towards San as the male presses a finger against him, eyes looking up, almost as if he was silently asking for consent. Wooyoung smiles at him, murmuring a quiet please.

San complies, carefully pressing into him, watching Wooyoung's expression for any signs of pain or discomfort, but Wooyoung was breathily groaning, head pressed back into the pillow, completely blissed out. San smiles to himself, continuing to move his finger into him, adding a second only moments later.

A mantra of words babble from Wooyoung's lips quietly as he begs and pleads, hands reaching for San's shoulders as he pulls the male back up towards him, connecting their lips again. He wanted to breathe in his air, taste him, lick into his mouth and bite his lips; he wanted all of San more than he ever has. The longing he had felt at the beach house suddenly becomes more prominent, and he finds himself clinging to the feeling of wanting to fall hopelessly in love with San, digging his claws into him, and never ever letting him go.

"Please, Sannie–" Wooyoung mutters against his lips. "I want you so bad."

"I don't want to hurt you, Woo." San breathes back, parting away for a moment as he retracts his fingers.

"Jagi, you won't. I've bottomed before." Wooyoung's brows furrow as he looks into San's gaze, catching sight of the worry laced beyond his expression. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't been intimate with a guy before," San admits quietly, eyes avoiding Wooyoung partially. Wooyoung's hands reach upwards to cup the sides of San's jaw, pulling the male's gaze back towards him.

"Sannie, I love you. You're not gonna hurt me. I want this, and I want you. I'm never ever going to hate you, okay?"

San smiles at him, and Wooyoung can visibly see the tension melting away within San's gaze. "I love you, too."

"Then kiss me, hm?" Wooyoung teases, pulling San gently back down to collide into him, melting into the kiss on contact. Wooyoung can hear San reaching for a wrapper, ripping and tossing it away, leaning away for a moment before carefully towering back over him, a nervous look coated over his expression once more.

"Hey," Wooyoung smiles up at him. "Your pace. Go as slow as you want, hm?"

San smiles at him again, this time seeming more reassured, leaning down to kiss the male as he leans on his left elbow, his other hand reaching down between them.

Wooyoung threads a hand into San's hair as he bends his knees, thighs spreading further apart, resting carefully on San's hips as he invites the male closer. He keeps the kisses chaste and slow, trying his best to wordlessly continue his reassurance to his lover, trying to swat away any worry and bring him comfort in knowing that Wooyoung was his.

Wooyoung's breath catches on his tongue when he feels San move into him, but he stays calm, his other hand smoothing down the side of San's jaw and his neck dotingly. San breaks apart from the kisses the moment he moves himself fully into the younger, hiding his face down into the crook of Wooyoung's neck.

"Okay, jagi?" Wooyoung questions calmly, stroking a hand through his hair.

"More than okay." San assures, dropping a kiss onto Wooyoung's shoulder. "Can I move?"

"Mhm. Whenever you're ready."

After a few seconds of stillness, San gently begins rocking his hips, causing them both to let out a content noise of pleasure.

Wooyoung presses his head back again, neck exposed, giving San all the access he could've wanted to leave possessive bites if he so chose to. San takes the chance when it's given, biting and sucking on Wooyoung's lower neck, kissing the bites after, watching them slowly bloom in soft purples after a moment with a loving gaze.

San's right hand travels down, hitching itself beneath Wooyoung's thigh, hiking it a bit higher, pressing closer as he slightly quickens the movements of his hips, fingers curling into the flesh that they greet.

Wooyoung pulls San back towards him, lips hovering over one another, breathing in shared air and swallowing each other's noises, lips just barely grazing past. It was incredibly intimate to be this close, to feel this mountain of love moving into their skin and embedding itself into their bones, pulling a feeling out of them that lay dormant for many years. They had always loved one another, secretly and unknowingly, but in this moment, they both knew how much they truly needed and wanted one another.

Rain or shine, Wooyoung would always seek out San. It didn't matter who he had slept with or who he sought out relations with; he would always find himself back in San's arms regardless of who he thought had owned his heart at the time. No one came close to feeling like this, nor has anyone ever given him sex that felt as good as this, so Wooyoung settles for the fact that he knew he needed his soulmate more than platonically.

He wanted him completely. In his bed, in his arms, lips against lips, hips touching and grinding, breathing in shared air and praising one another as if they were the entire world themselves. San was Wooyoung's sun, always beaming bright light into his dark moon-scape, being the sunshine that he always needed in times of struggle and tears. In the same retrospect, Wooyoung was his moon, grounding him and comforting him, providing a safe space to crawl to when he felt like he couldn't keep his composure anymore. Dark and light, perfectly imperfect in their share, balancing out one another, polar opposites, but completely in sync. One could not survive without the other, bringing peace and calamity to their unique little world that neither of them would dare to run from.

As much as Wooyoung was San's, San was his too.

San's hips jut faster, their lips clashing and breaking apart for air, noises unable to remain quiet as their inevitable highs come hurtedling closer. Wooyoung's abdomen coils, and he feels unbelievably close to snapping, yet he doesn't want this feeling to go away. He wants to taste this forever, wants to feel San buried in him like this for as long as he lives, never wanting to push the male away ever again.

But San gives in to the feeling quickly, biting Wooyoung's lip and licking into his mouth, letting the younger swallow all of his stuttering noises as his coil snaps taut with three more juts of his hips. Wooyoung lets himself free of the feeling too, sighing into San's mouth the moment he comes crashing back to reality.

"I love you," San murmurs, lazily slotting their lips together as he tumbles further back down from the clouds.

"I love you." Wooyoung hums, legs falling away and back onto the bed, chest slightly heaving.

"I'm gonna clean off." San mutters between kisses. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"I'm not going to, Sannie." Wooyoung smiles softly, watching as San leans upright and carefully pulls away from him.

A cleaning routine and avoiding Seonghwa later, Wooyoung was curled up into San's side, head on his chest, fingers tracing shapes onto the male's abdomen. San had his cheek pressed against the crown of Wooyoung's head, breathing him in, smiling all the same.

"San'ah?" Wooyoung quietly asks.

"Mm?" San's eyes are lulled closed, contently resting against the younger.

"Can you tell me what happened at the party?"

"Are you sure?" San's eyes open, turning his head to look down towards Wooyoung. All he does is nod. "Well, okay."

San sits up slightly, feeling Wooyoung adjust against him and lay back down on his chest, hand finding a warm spot on San's abs to linger. San smiles at him then looks at his darkened walls, trying to find the courage to explain the girl and Wooyoung's drunken escapade, but he knows that he can't lie to him. If he wanted to know, then it was his right to know about everything that had happened.

"You were drunk two hours into the party. You were looking for me, oddly enough, but couldn't ever make it off of that stupid bench by the pool."

"I hate that fucking bench." Wooyoung laughs, feeling San scoff too.

"Well, you drank a case of soju on that bench. I tried my best to keep an eye on you but quickly got distracted by Mingi and Seonghwa doing shots together and eventually I lost sight of you. Yunho assured me that you were fine, but I never felt right leaving you alone. Hongjoong eventually made an appearance and told me that you were lost or something, so I went searching for you again, and when I found you, uhm–" here it comes.

"What did I do?" Wooyoung is fully prepared to laugh at himself while San wants to cut his tongue off. He wasn't sure how Wooyoung was going to react given the situation of a girl practically groping him in public, but he can't keep it from him any longer.

"It's not what you did," San's free hand reaches over and grabs Wooyoung's, holding it within his own grasp protectively. "Some girl had her eyes on you the entire night, from what I heard. She was in this tight black dress and seemed really drunk. Before I found you, I guess she tried talking to you. She was asking if you had a girlfriend and whatnot, and she was touching you. I don't know if you remember, Woo, but her hands were on your thighs and hips. She was trying to seduce you but you weren't listening."

Wooyoung falls completely still, eyes blinking San's story to life. "When I found you, she begged for you to take her to a room. She was doing everything she could to get you alone. But I scared her off of you and you like, suddenly came to and told her off."

"What did I say to her?"

"Something along the lines of 'I'm not drunk enough to forget how you touched me.'"

"Well, I was wrong there."

"Hey," San turns towards him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Don't say that. You know that alcohol fucks with you. You drank a lot that night, Woo. I don't want you blaming yourself for stuff that is well out of your control."

"But I shouldn't have drank that much."

San sighs, holding Wooyoung's hand a little tighter. "You can't change the past, Woo. But you can change your future. I don't want to see you like that again, so if you want, I can try to be sober with you. You don't have to do any of it alone."

"You'd give up drinking for me?"

"I don't drink that much to begin with, but I'd do anything for you."

"You did say you'd rob a bank with me earlier."

"Oh shut up," San smiles, listening to Wooyoung laugh gently.

"She really touched me like that?" Wooyoung's voice suddenly turns firm. San can feel his body grow rigid.

"Yeah. I wish I would've found you sooner."

"There's nothing you could've done." Wooyoung tries to assure, but San still feels guilt pulling at his expression.

"I won't leave you like that again." San presses another lingering kiss to his forehead, his next words muffled against his skin. "I promise."

"I love you, San'ah." Wooyoung smiles, head tilting upwards to face the eyes of his beloved.

"I love you more." San kisses him passionately, hand tracing over Wooyoung's jaw lightly.

San parts away from him and leans back down to his pillow, pulling his covers closer to his chest as he settles into the mattress. Wooyoung leans against him still, eyes stuck open at the thought of unfamiliar hands strapped to his waist. She's haunting me now.

Wooyoung can feel the memories hazily crossing through his mind, but he knows the moment he closes his eyes, all he is going to see is her face.

So he lays there for hours, head against San's chest, tears quickly streaming from his eyes as he lays there in silence, paralyzed by the thought of having no control over himself.

Some time after the sun rises, Wooyoung gets out of bed and puts on his clothes. He walks out of San's room and leaves the apartment without a word or a way to contact anyone, leaving his phone dejectedly resting on the mattress, and without an ounce of battery life.