perhaps, you | woosan

Epilogue

POV: Wooyoung

It was one of those rare occasions where Wooyoung woke up before San. Oftentimes as he fluttered his eyes open, he'd see the other creasing his eyes in fondness, brushing his blonde hair off the forehead, as if he never got tired of the view. And Wooyoung's heart will stupidly skip in which he was nearly convinced that it wasn't a healthy thing first thing in the morning.

He used to wonder what made San so captured looking at the sleeping boy. Wooyoung was so sure that wasn't his prettiest look. San could just wake up and prepare for his day instead of staring at his silly looking face with his lips parted, sometimes also drooling (a habit which he was so desperate to fix)—although Wooyoung knew he would be disappointed not feeling his presence right next to his as he woke up, now that he was too comfortable being enveloped by his warmth.

But as he watched the raven haired man's innocent sleeping face, he felt like he was starting to understand. It was the feeling of honour where the other trusted him enough to share his most vulnerable state where a plenty chance of murder provided (dramatic, yeah, but nothing is too dramatic when you're in love). It was the feeling of privilege being able to share the moment of his life that the man himself was unaware of—as though sharing the time when he was conscious was never enough.

While every romantic he could gather pooled his mind, his body screamed of physical need—he needed to pee. Feeling the pain ripping himself from the comfort, he slid out, careful not to wake the other. He cursed lowly as he felt the heaviness on his hips while his knees wobbled from the effect of last night—although Wooyoung hated feeling weak, he couldn't deny he loved the way San made him weak.

Satisfying his human need, he washed his hands, looking up at the mirror in the course. The reflection of him had red and purple bruises on his neck and collarbones, some in the process of healing while some were freshly made. He felt a weird glee at how he was marked by the one and only, and he struggled to stop the mirrored Wooyoung from curving his lips.

Then he realised there was something he had been missing. One thing Wooyoung was eager to do, probably since the day he laid his eyes on San; to plant a hickey on San's honeyed chest.

He had plenty of chances to (plenty, yes), and San never forbade him to, but he still hadn't managed to do it. The thing was, that whenever they had sex (which was when San eagerly marked his lover), Wooyoung was too consumed, too ruined to have a room to think about it, let alone even work on it.

Wooyoung squeezed himself back in San's arms, eyeing a clean, tempting canvas served in front of his bare eyes, revealed from a hardly buttoned up shirt. Making sure that the other was soundly asleep, he approached, sniffing the comforting smell unique to San, burying his head in the crook of his neck. He gave a light lick on the skin before he proceeded to suck on it.

He pulled away and checked, but all he saw was a slightly glistening skin from his saliva, but still a plain skin. Wooyoung whined in dissatisfaction, trying it for the second time; this time longer. Checking for the second time, he did feel some satisfaction at the small red spot emerging, but still it wasn't as vivid as the one San gave him.

"Why is this shit so hard?" he huffed in annoyance, trailing his finger on the spot.

He wanted to try for the third time, when he suddenly felt a grip on his waist tighten, drawing him in the other's chest.

Wooyoung felt a breath on his ear. "You know you are unbearably adorable right now."

"You were awake?" Wooyoung groaned, feeling a flush on his cheeks.

"You woke me up," San chuckled, giving a chaste kiss on his forehead, then muttered, "shame."

Wooyoung pulled away, raising an arch at the man's remark.

San eyed him, a wave of taunt rocking in his eyes. "If I didn't have a job to fill, I'd take you first thing this morning."

"San-" Wooyoung gasped, feeling his stomach churn in that familiar feeling.

San gave a quick peck on Wooyoung's red cheek before he woke up, quickly dressing himself up before he could leave for his work. And Wooyoung blankly stared at him, feeling a little annoyed at how it covered the effort he just paid, but foolishly impressed at how his boyfriend looked ever so attractive in a simple black knit and ripped jeans. Really, Jung, enough is enough.

"Sorry, I gotta run, Woo," he quickly slung a fanny pack over his shoulder as Wooyoung gave a light wave acknowledging him for the leave.

"See you later," Wooyoung greeted, glad his face was cooled down, seeing off his boyfriend walking out the door.

Just before shutting the door, San turned. "Ah, Woo."

Wooyoung tilted his head in question. He saw the man smirking and leaving the word that said;

"Mentally prepare yourself, for I will make sure to mark every part of your body when I get back, you hear me?"

Then he's gone.

But Wooyoung's cheeks were back to bursting in full bloom.

Enough is enough, Choi San.

But Wooyoung knew his heart will never get used to the power San held.

- The Real END - 

A/N:

Now that I'm done with the epilogue, I feel such a loss at closing this book for good. Although I know the flaws this book must have, it still holds a special place in me for it being a first long book I completed on wattpad, or anywhere else in general.

To all of you who has given this book a chance, thank you for dropping by and cheering me on!

I am planning on a yunsan fic next, woosan somewhere in the future, so if you are interested please do come around :)