Chapter 5

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San isn't in the bathroom when Wooyoung goes to take his shower; San isn't there when Wooyoung gets back to the room, but his side is spotlessly clean. And Wooyoung's grateful, even if he spends the next twenty minutes cleaning his own side of the room and getting their laundry. He's not sure what he'd say if San had been there. Not sure if this changes things or not, because he still hates San, he does. Maybe he hates San even more. Everything inside of him is in turmoil.

He can't sort out his thoughts or emotions. On one hand, he's shocked it happened. On the other hand, he thinks that maybe a tiny, little part of him seen it coming. Another part of him is pissed for even thinking that. And he feels angry with himself, angry with San, and he's regretting it already. He regrets it so much, because he can't get the way San had felt inside of him out of his mind; the way he'd gripped Wooyoung's hips and tugged at his hair. While, at the same time, he doesn't regret it at all.

Eventually he leaves the room with his laptop and his books and his paper. He can't be in there anymore. Only he can't focus on his work. He gets to the library, sets himself up, and then he stares at the word document, fingers hovering over the keys, eyes glazed. He tries, though. Spends about an hour copying the words painstakingly slow, but he keeps misspelling things, skipping lines, missing words. There's so many words underlined in red that he gives up, shutting the laptop.

Yunho and Mingi aren't in the common room when he gets there, so he hikes his bag higher on his shoulder and heads for their room. Their room is only six down from Wooyoung's, which is how he met them. The day after they'd moved in, the first time Wooyoung had the room alone since San walked in the door, he was unpacking, and someone had knocked at the door. He went to answer it, and the next thing he knows there's this guy sitting on his bed, telling Wooyoung his life story, while his friend stood in the doorway, looking both pleased and apologetic.

Apparently, or so Mingi told him later, Wooyoung was the only one who allowed Yunho through the door, which is why he's now stuck with the two of them. Yunho pushed into Wooyoung's life without invitation, and he brought Mingi along like a carry-on bag. Not that Wooyoung minds. Befriending the two of them is probably the only exciting thing he's done since he got here. Well, it was. He's pretty sure having sex with San is now on that list.

When Wooyoung gets to their room, he pushes the door open. They have a whiteboard on the door that Mingi obsessively uses to let people know if they're in the room, out of the room, or in the room and want to be alone. Right now it reads 'COME IN!' with a sloppy smiley face beside it. He finds the two of them stuffed on Yunho's bed, a box of pizza between them. Mingi's sitting with his legs neatly crossed, taking up as little room as possible. Yunho is spread out, limbs everywhere, lying on his stomach while he shoves a slice of pizza in his mouth. Which is such a good representation of both of their personalities, really.

"Hungry?" Mingi asks, nudging the box towards the edge of the bed. "Help yourself. My mom sent me extra cash this week." Wooyoung nods mutely and takes a piece of pizza, picking off the slices of pepperoni before he takes a bite. It's not hot anymore, but it's greasy and cheesy and delicious anyway. He chews as he sinks onto Yunho's bed, pulling his legs up, before asking, "Can I stay here tonight?" "Are you going to spend the whole night bitching about whatever it is San did that makes you not want to stay in your own room?" Yunho inquires. Wooyoung looks down at his food. "No." "Hey," Mingi says softly, "you okay? Did he do something?" "San always does something," Yunho reminds him.

Which is true, but this time it's as much Wooyoung's fault as it is San's. "No," Wooyoung finds himself saying. "He, uh, didn't do anything." "Why do you sound weird?" Yunho asks. "You look weird, too." Wooyoung flushes. He stuffs the pizza into his mouth to avoid answering for a moment. It doesn't taste good anymore. It's like chewy cardboard. But he can't put it off forever, and his slice of pizza is gone too quickly. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes downcast, and whispers, "I had sex with San." "What was that? Couldn't hear you," Yunho says. "I had sex," Wooyoung repeats, "with San."

When he looks up, Mingi's frozen, pizza half to his mouth. Yunho is gaping at him like he has two heads, and it's so fucking quiet. And he knows, if the roles were reversed, that he'd be gaping at himself, too. "Holy shit," Yunho breathes. "Holy fucking shit." He turns to Mingi. "You owe me fifty bucks." "You were betting on this happening?" Wooyoung demands. "Really?" Yunho shakes his head. "Don't try to turn this around. I want details. Like, explicit details." "I just want to forget it happened," Wooyoung mutters. "Ooh, it was bad, huh?" Yunho says. "I knew it. All those muscles are compensating for a little dick, right? Called it." Wooyoung throws his crust in Yunho's direction. It hits his arm and Yunho doesn't even blink, or move to throw it out, so Mingi leans over him and tosses it in the pizza box with three other uneaten crusts. "You can stay," he adds. "You can have my bed. I'll sleep in Yunho's." "Yeah," Yunho agrees. "No problem. You know you're always welcome here." Wooyoung nods. "Thanks." "Now, just give me a vague outline. Like, hold your hands apart. How big was it?"

******

The week starts with him and San tiptoeing around each other. Wooyoung stays at Yunho and Mingi's Saturday night, but he can't avoid his room forever. When he gets back, San isn't there, and he breathes out a sigh of relief before changing, putting in his headphones, and working on his paper. By the time San gets back, he's finished it. San, for his part, treats Wooyoung like he's another piece of furniture. They don't look at each other; they don't speak; they don't even argue. San works out at the gym, Wooyoung doesn't play his music in the room once. On Tuesday when San has one of his teammates in the room, showing him something on his laptop, Wooyoung walks right back out instead of plunking himself down on his own bed just to irritate San. On Thursday when San leaves his sweaty clothes around the room after practise, Wooyoung bites his tongue instead of yelling at him.

It isn't until Friday that things go back to normal. It happens fairly easily, too. Wooyoung's doing his homework, San's throwing a ball up into the air while lying flat on his bed, and San randomly says, "I still don't like you. And you hit your keys too hard." Wooyoung pauses, turning to him. "I still don't like you, either." "Good." San throws the ball, it nearly hits the ceiling, and then he gracefully, swiftly catches it as it falls back down. "I don't want you to think that just because we, like, whatever, that I suddenly can stand you or something. Because I can't." "Like having sex with you would change the fact that you're an asshole," Wooyoung spits. San gets off the bed, dropping the ball to the floor. It rolls under Wooyoung's bed. "Go to hell, Wooyoung," he mutters, heading for the door. He slams it behind himself on his way out.

When he's gone, Wooyoung can suddenly breathe again. It's like he was holding his breath all week, hoping that what happened hadn't changed things. Because it didn't, not for him. San still makes his blood boil. He still wants to punch the guy. But he'd feel... guilty, maybe? If things changed for San. But they hadn't, he's still a dick, and Wooyoung likes it better this way. It's like being on even ground again. It's easier when they hate each other because he knows what to expect. This whole week has been the opposite. Wooyoung grins to himself as he gets back to work.

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