TW :: mentions of death and blood
it's funny how idiotically convinced wooyoung has been that things with san will never be the same again.
no, it's not exactly how it once was, not at all. things are drastically different, but there's one exception for now, at the least — san is still the same clingy ball he has always been.
his hands barely leave wooyoung, and if they do, they're on a mission to return somewhere on him in seconds.
san's touch is all wooyoung can ask for when he starts the loathed story he's promised to. it's all he needs to continue, reminding him that this is wholly and completely worth it. being by the boy's side again, wooyoung knows that it is. it just has to be.
their fingers loosely intertwined, wooyoung talks. he talks about yeosang, his one-sided love for him, his utmost jealousy of jongho, but most importantly, the night that scarred their everlasting bond.
despite the blurred shots of bloody glass shards wooyoung relives almost every day of his life, it's hard remembering it all; he's learnt nothing but to bury those memories far away, in the deepest spot possible. but when he wanders for long enough, he soon finds where to dig them up, and it only becomes harder. wooyoung's never known how to endure those images in his head.
but... but maybe he doesn't need to know right now.
because san is here. san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang stumbling into their shared apartment, his words slurred as he rakes his hands all over him.
as much as he hoped for it, wooyoung knew full well they didn't share the same desires as one another. but he gave in, anyway. how could he not after watching from the sidelines as the stupid new boy in town caught yeosang's eye, after being treated like yeosang's disposable shoulder to weep on when things sloped downhill, after witnessing his love fall for someone other than him?
wooyoung didn't know then that kissing his best friend would become one of the most regretful decisions of his life.
san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang finally returning to his sobered senses, muttering about how he just needed something to numb the pain of his and jongho's breakup.
as much as he saw the confession coming, wooyoung was hurt, regardless. he scoffed at first, maybe to shake the heartbreak off, to act like he didn't care, to pretend none of this had even happened. in reality, though, he must've been the strongest version of himself yet for bottling it up the way he did. it didn't even take yeosang a day to read through him, however — nothing is stronger than the seven years they spent together.
wooyoung didn't know then that it could end so fast, so out of his control.
san is here when wooyoung recalls yeosang pacing their kitchen, fuming because he's only just now realised his best friend is deeply in love with him.
as much as he knew it was useless, wooyoung tried to get through to yeosang. he'd only ever gotten riled up around him once or twice before, yet those situations were nothing compared to the male yelling at him to stop.
to stop loving him.
how is that possible, yeo? wooyoung wanted to say. but he didn't. he didn't have the words to.
instead he stayed zipped, silent cries breaking through the corners of his lips as yeosang's screams only targeted him louder and louder.
he'd never been so conflicted in his life — why wasn't he allowed to love yeosang?
YOU ARE READING
SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan
Fanfiction"... sing to me? what- like, sing me to sleep?" "unless that's too corny for you, that's exactly what i'm offering." in which jung wooyoung suffers with insomnia and relies on an anonymous singer on instagram to make his nights a little less lonely...
