not cute anymore

౨ৎ 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘪 • 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘯𝘴 • 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘥 • 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢 • 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

☆ 𝘺𝘶𝘳𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘢𝘰𝘪 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬!! • 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘴𝘵

౨ৎ 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵! 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥!!! 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘠/𝘕!!! 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵

☆ 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 • 𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘢 • 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 • 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 • 𝘫𝘶𝘫𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘯 • 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯 • 𝘹-𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 • 𝘫𝘶𝘫𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘯 • 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 • 𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 • 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘢• 𝘯𝘤𝘵 • 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 • 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘪𝘧𝘦 • 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴? 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!!

𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦!

𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 @𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘸𝘯

2000’s emo nahyuck oneshot au

‼️: porn with plot hair pulling praising/degrading dry humping mentions of marijuana and alcohol friends with benefits fingering high sex bitting slight ragebait during sex if you squint improper use of sliver rings? slight nipple play dacryphilia

author note: Since this takes place in the 2000s, they will be aged up to their current ages! EVERYONE IS OVER 18! People have been begging for one-shots, especially from groups like NCT! If you guys have any requests, you can send them here or to my Twitter @/bittenfawn

Bad habits? What are they exactly? The average person would say things like jaywalking, picking scabs, and biting fingernails. In retrospect, this would be the correct answer, but in Donghyuck's case, his bad habit was a 5'10" emo Korean man he met at a gross dive bar a year ago in Hongdae. They exchanged MySpace handles that autumn night in 2004, under the loud guitar and bass of Sum 41's debut album, blasting through the bar's speakers. That bad habit's name was Na Jaemin.

They would talk about anything and everything; it didn't really matter. They bonded over music and stupid cartoons on Adult Swim. Donghyuck and Jaemin often discuss forming a band. Donghyuck would play the guitar and sing, while Jaemin played the drums and did the background vocals. They would shoplift from the local liquor store and drink and smoke weed at the local park, enjoying each other's company as the cold wind grazed their faces. They were so close that even mutual friends accused them of dating or, at the very least, having slept together once.

Jaemin would be very bashful about those comments, unlike Donghyuck, who always took them as a joke. But the lingering thought of them actually having intercourse ruminated in both of the boys' heads one way or another. The idea didn’t disgust them; it was more like an unspoken feeling they both had. The thought of grinding on Jaemin desperately while smoking a blunt and listening to Sleeping with Sirens was his ideal hangout, especially after going to an underground show. Usually, Jaemin would be sweaty, his eyeliner slightly smudged, and his voice raspy from screaming along with the band playing.

Surprisingly, Jaemin felt similar but was more perverted about it, especially alone. Jaemin can’t even count how many times he has gotten boners while just talking to Donghyuck on his shitty Nokia flip phone. It would usually happen while they were talking late at night. Donghyuck’s voice would deepen because he was tired from work, since he always worked the closing shift at the local music store in Seoul.

The worst part was how casual it was. Donghyuck never knew. He’d just be rambling about some asshole customer trying to haggle over a Black Veil Brides CD, and Jaemin would be sprawled on his bed, half-hard, hand pressed against his sweats, praying his voice didn’t crack when he answered back.

“You sound awful,” Jaemin teased one night, his voice coming out higher than he wanted.

“That’s because I feel awful. I haven’t relaxed in months. From all the work I'm doing, I should be getting a raise, but no,” Donghyuck replied dryly, and Jaemin could hear sheets rustling, Donghyuck rolling onto his side.

“It doesn’t help that all these weird vampire poser kids are coming in after discovering Linkin Park and Paramore and trying to school me on my knowledge about them as if I didn’t wait in the cold for tickets for both of them a couple of months back.”

Jaemin bit his lip hard, squeezing his eyes shut as his cock shifted slightly against his boxers.

“Then quit,” Jaemin said, trying to keep his voice even.

“And do what? Work at that run down cafe with you?”

Donghyuck’s laugh came sharp but tender through the receiver, sharp enough that Jaemin’s stomach clenched but tender enough to make him blush slightly.

“At least you’d get an employee discount and all the apple pie you can dream of because you always beg me to save you some when we close,” Jaemin muttered, breath catching halfway.

“Are you ok?” Donghyuck said suddenly, tone suspicious.

“Why do you sound out of breath?”

Jaemin froze, looking at his cock throbbing in his black fuzzy Batman sleep pants Jeno gave him for his birthday. He was pathetic; he couldn’t be really getting turned on by his best friend's voice, especially when he’s talking about how shitty his day was

He swallowed hard before speaking.

“I’m not. You’re just imagining shit.”

“Yeah, sure… whatever you say, Jae.” Donghyuck yawned, the sound lazy and slightly whiny. “From how you act, you sound obsessed with me, but that’s my educated guess.”

Jaemin’s chest tightened, but he forced a laugh.

“I think lack of sleep is getting to you, Hyuck, because you sound delusional.”

Donghyuck hummed low, almost smug. “Maybe, but I have a great intuition, and it never fails me.”

Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut again, wishing Donghyuck could see how right he was, wishing Donghyuck could see the way he writhed under his sheets just from hearing his voice. Instead, he forced himself to grin into the phone, voice steady.

“Go to bed, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck chuckled before leaning into the phone.

“Good night, Min. Don’t miss me too much.”

Jaemin stared at the ceiling long after the call ended, phone still buzzing faintly in his palm. His cock was still hard, throbbing under the waistband of his fuzzy Batman pants, and Donghyuck's voice replayed in his head like a skipping record.

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

It wasn’t fair how Donghyuck could make him ache without even trying. Just his stupid laugh, his lazy yawns, and his voice dipping low at the end of the day. Jaemin hated how much he wanted him, how much he thought about what it would feel like if Donghyuck’s voice wasn’t through a shitty Nokia speaker but right against his ear, lips brushing skin, breath hot.

A few weeks later, he tried to shake it off, but the perverted demons in his head kept banging at him. They met up at a cheap diner, the kind that reeked of grease and burnt coffee. Donghyuck was already there, slouched in the booth, eyeliner smudged, zip-up hoodie falling off his shoulder like he hadn’t slept.

Jaemin slid into the vinyl seat, which was cracked and peeling and had the scent of pancake syrup and bacon grease ingrained inside it. He pushed back his messy black hair before tilting his head to the side, looking at Donghyuck carefully, analyzing his features like a hawk, before looking down at the menu.

Donghyuck didn’t look up. He was hunched over his coffee cup, flipping through the menu.

“You’re staring,” he muttered, voice low, still rough from sleep deprivation.

“I mean, I like looking at pretty things, so can you blame me?”

Jaemin teased as his gaze lowered onto Donghyuck’s lips, then flicked back up to his eyes.

Donghyuck finally glanced at him, a sharp smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re disgusting.”

Jaemin leaned back against the booth with a shit-eating grin plastered on. “First, I’m obsessed; now I’m disgusting. Just keep stacking insults on me, Hyuck my poor feelings.”

“You don’t have feelings,” Donghyuck shot back, stirring his coffee lazily, eyes dropping back to the menu.

Jaemin leaned forward, chin propped on his palm, voice pitched just enough to make it sting. “Who says I don’t? Maybe I just hide them better than you.”

Donghyuck finally glanced up, eyebrow cocked, as sarcasm slipped out through his pursed lips. “Right. Because staring at me like you’re undressing me counts as subtle.”

Jaemin let out a low laugh, his gaze flicking down to Donghyuck's lips before dragging up again, deliberate. "Damn, I thought I was; that's a shame. If I'm honest, if I did undress you, I know I would like the view."

For a moment, Donghyuck just held his gaze, coffee forgotten. His knee brushed Jaemin’s under the table, and neither of them moved.

“Do you think about it?” Donghyuck asked suddenly, his voice dropping lower like it had on those late-night calls.

Jaemin blinked slowly, feigning innocence. “Think about what?”

“This,” Donghyuck said softly, eyes narrowing, “Us. What people say. If they’re right.”

Jaemin's eyes widened slightly as a smirk crept on his lips, his chest tightened, and heat rose to his ears. “What, that we’re basically dating? Or that we explored each other's bodies."

Donghyuck huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly embarrassed. “Don’t play dumb, Jae. I mean, have you actually thought about it? You and me. Crossing that line.”

The air between them went taut, like the diner itself faded—the clatter of plates, the hum of the jukebox, and the smell of fluffy sweet pancakes all dulling under the weight of Donghyuck’s question.

Jaemin sipped a coffee, his head cocking to the side. The wheels turned in his head, listening to Donghyuck's question. He's thought about this more times than he can count, unfortunately. He always wanted to see how pretty Donghyuck would look whining against him while playing the drums when they made music in his basement. He wondered what it felt like to have his teeth nibbling at his skin and his fingernails dragging against his back, marking it up so badly that it stung to the touch.

"I have thought about it more times than I would like to admit, but the real question is, have you thought about it, Hyuck?" Jaemin says softly, his voice smooth and teasing, leaning across the sticky table staring at Donghyuck with dark and flirty eyes.

Donghyuck didn’t pull away. His laugh came soft and low, like he was daring Jaemin to push harder. “I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t, but it doesn’t mean I’d ever let you in.”

"Really? Hyuck, if we ever went there, I promise it would be the best you ever had. I'm sure of it." Jaemin echoed, grinning devilishly as his naturally cocky aura dripped out of his words.

Their knees pressed tighter under the table, Jaemin’s eyes heavy-lidded as he studied Donghyuck like he was trying to crack him open. The space between them pulsed, blurring the line between the way friends teased and the way lovers tested each other’s limits.

The waitress dropped off their food, snapping the tension for a second. Donghyuck leaned back, and a soft blush crept on his face as Jaemin watched smugly. “Eat your pancakes before you say something you can’t take back.”

Jaemin just cut into his stack, syrup dripping, his grin sharp as ever.

The tension in the diner was thick, as hot as the smell of bacon grease and coffee grounds. Their knees were still pressed together under the table, neither pulling back, and every time Jaemin leaned in to say something, Donghyuck’s eyes flicked to his mouth just a second too long. It wasn’t innocent anymore; it hadn’t been for a while, but sitting across from each other in that sticky booth, it was undeniable.

When the check came, Jaemin snatched it before Donghyuck could reach. “I got it.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “You’re broke.”

Jaemin smiled softly as his signature smirk glazed across his lips, sliding a crumpled 20-dollar bill into the check folder.

“So are you, but I’m a gentleman, so I will pay, plus you can repay me by coming back to my place and hitting the bong I stole from Jeno while I practice playing the drums.”

Donghyuck let out a slightly exasperated sigh, jokingly, “I mean, I have nothing else to do, plus, I’ll never pass up free weed, so let’s go.”

The walk to Jaemin’s apartment wasn’t far from the diner. By the time that they were done eating, it was dark outside. The cool autumn air was beating against their faces, symbolizing the appearance of the season. The walk back was silent, but the boys were so close to each other that their hands could touch. They did for a moment; neither of them flinched. Instead, they moved into each other, instinctively holding each other‘s pinkies like cringey middle school girls who just got their first boyfriend.

Donghyuck’s heart fluttered rapidly as he swallowed his spit. He had always wanted this, even though it seemed ridiculous to others. This type of touch meant something to him. He would never say it out loud, but Jaemin’s small physical gestures always triggered something in his brain. It was more than serotonin. It was almost like he was shot with an opioid; he craved that type of physical touch from him, no matter how innocent it was. That craving was virtually unshakable. Some days, he would want to feel Jaemin’s body heat against his, other days, he would want to feel the sting of the other's hand spanking him. He would never admit it, though at least not to Jaemin.

Jaemin’s apartment was pretty simple. It was a bit dirty, but not to the point where it was considered a significant issue. He had old, broken drumsticks lying around his red drum kit, which he had purchased from a flea market a few months prior. It was damaged when he first got it, so he decided to refurbish it. It was, at one point, his passion project. He had a small house plant that he took care of off and on, but as of right now, the plant was dying of thirst. He had a few takeout bags in his kitchen, along with half-drunk alcohol bottles.

Donghyuck took off his shoes, glancing around. “Still a mess, I see.”

Jaemin looked over at the other male as he was dumping out the water from his old bong. “I prefer to call it organized chaos, but trust me, I’m getting to it. It’s not as bad as it usually is. Oh, and by the way, make yourself at home.”

Donghyuck walked around Jaemin’s living room, noticing his music collection. He had a collection of vinyl records and CDs, along with some cassette tapes, scattered about on a bookshelf from Asking Alexandria to Fall out Boy. He had a collection of horror movies on DVD, along with random video game discs that weren’t returned to their respective cases. On the floor was a PlayStation hooked up to a beat-up square television. Lying next to it was a full-length mirror with smoky eye shadow pallets and brushes slightly scattered on the carpet as if someone was getting ready there.

Jaemin finally walked over placing his chin on Donghyuck’s shoulder slinking one of his hands around the boy’s waist causing Donghyuck to flinch.

“It’s just me, Hyuck, relax, my bong is prepped, let’s go to my room.” Jaemin whispered in Donghyuck’s ear in a slightly sensual and whiny tone.

“Jesus, you always gotta sneak up like that?” Donghyuck muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but his voice cracked just slightly, betraying him.

Jaemin only grinned, lips hovering near Donghyuck’s neck.

“You scare easily.”

“I don’t scare easily. I was just in deep thought when you decided to slither around me.” Donghyuck shot back, whispering against Jaemin’s ear, slowly playing along with Jaemin’s tactics

The air between them buzzed. Jaemin’s thumb rubbed a lazy circle against Hyuck’s hipbone through the fabric of his hoodie before he finally pulled away and grabbed the bong off the counter. “C’mon,” he said, tone teasingly tender.

Donghyuck followed, pretending like he didn’t notice the faint heat still crawling up his spine.

Jaemin’s room was eclectic to say the least. His walls were covered with bands he adored and some posters, even those signed by the artist, the most infamous being the My Chemical Romance poster with all the band members' signatures on it. On his desk was his iMac G3, which was open to his Myspace page. Around his computer, CDs had been burned, along with pictures of his friend group and old soda cans. The bed had black sheets and a grey and white comforter. It was messy; all the sheets were going different ways. It was apparent he hadn’t made his bed in God knows how long.

On his bedside table was an unopened water bottle, little photos of their friend group, and pictures of him and Donghyuck cuddling on the couch at Mark's kickback last February. Donghyuck picked up the photo, smiling softly, remembering that night like it was yesterday.

Donghyuck lingered at the edge of Jaemin’s bed, still holding the photo between his fingers, a faint smile ghosting over his lips.

“You still have this?”

Jaemin looked up from where he was sitting on the mattress, lighting the bowl. The flame from the lighter flickered against his face.

“Of course I do. It’s one of my favorites. I gave myself snake bites in Mark's bathroom with Jisung, and then you freaked out because I did it with a safety pin. This photo was taken after I did it, and I had to calm you down because you kept saying I could get a brain-eating infection from doing it like that. Now we are here nine months later, and I don't have a brain-eating infection, only more piercings done in Mark’s dingy bathroom, which, in my opinion, makes me look sexier than ever."

Donghyuck tried not to laugh and failed before his eyes flickered to Jaemin's lips, looking at the silver piercings. “You’re insufferable. I was worried you were gonna get sick because of your stupid decision; your lip was all bruised."

Jaemin bit his lip softly, playing with his piercing, looking back at Donghyuck with that sensual puppy look he had. "You could bruise it again if you wanted."

Donghyuck tilted his head to the side, staring into Jaemin's eyes before playfully shrugging. "I could, but I know you would enjoy it too much, but who knows, maybe I will take you up on that offer."

"You're too pussy to do that," Jaemin teases, hitting the bong, taking a decent-sized hit before passing it to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck didn't say anything back and just hit the bong, coughing slightly. "Is this the shit you get from behind the laundry mat? It's so fucking strong, what the hell."

Jaemin shrugs, "I stole it from Jeno last week, because my plug is on probation something about not paying child support, I'm not completely clear on the details."

The pair passed the bong back and forth for about 45 minutes. Jaemin's playlist was on shuffle on his iMac, with faint sounds of the song "Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic at the Disco echoing from his computer's speaker. Neither of them spoke; being in the same vicinity was enough. They were so close that their legs were now intertwined with each other as they lay down on Jaemin's bed, the smell of weed and fabric softener filled the boys' noses

Jaemin noticed Donghyuck's pretty frame snuggling against him. Donghyuck's zip-up hoodie rode up slightly, exposing the waistband of his black Calvin Klein boxers, along with his belly button ring featuring a guitar charm hanging from it. Jaemin moved closer, slinking his hands around Donghyuck’s waist, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

Donghyuck smirked, moving into Jaemin’s touch, taking a hit of the bong once again, before blowing the smoke out against his lips, and planting a small kiss. Jaemin took the bong from Donghyuck, taking a hit himself before shotgun kissing him, holding on to his two-toned locs softly for support.

This was almost instinct for them, feeling each other‘s bodies. They pressed up against each other, but never really went beyond kissing. However, kissing wasn’t enough this time; they both needed more deep down. They knew it, but it was only a moment before somebody cracked and actually gave in to their thoughts about each other.

Donghyuck pulls away a string of spit, leaving his mouth, along with Jaemin’s. Both boys stare at each other, panting slightly, staring at each other more desperately than ever before.

“I have an idea,” Jaemin said as he got up really quickly, leaving the room before pulling his drum set into his room, sitting in front of it.

“Come here, baby,” Jaemin said, patting his lap, looking at Donghyuck, whose face was flushed a pale pink.

Donghyuck chuckled, walking over to sit in Jaemin’s lap, essentially straddling one of the other males’ thighs. As Jaemin’s playlist shuffled again, the sounds of Paramore’s Crushcrushcrush started seeping out of the speakers. He twirled his drumsticks and began to drum the beat of the song, softly singing along to it, whispering the chorus breathlessly into Donghyuck's ear.

Donghyuck smirked, throwing his head back slightly, singing along with Jaemin, subconsciously grinding against his thighs, while Jaemin’s thigh bounces to keep tempo with the song.

“Fuck~” Donghyuck whines as his cock begins to harden within his black skinny jeans. He leaned into Jaemin’s neck, trying to continue the song, but the sensations he was experiencing were dizzying.

“That’s it, baby, grind up on my thigh just like that,” Jaemin says, whispering seductively, kissing down Donghyuck’s sensitive neck as he continues to drum along with the song. Donghyuck let out a choked-out whimper, feeling himself get pushed closer to the edge by the relentless rhythm of Jaemin's thigh flexing beneath him.

Jaemin's drumsticks flew across the drum kit with practiced ease, the steady thump of the bass drum mirroring the pulse in Donghyuck's veins. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the curve of Donghyuck's jaw, voice husky as he sang the following line, the words vibrating against sensitive skin.

Donghyuck's nails dug into his palms as he closed his eyes, his face slightly flushed from the pleasure. Donghyuck was embarrassed to say the least. Jaemin is barely doing anything, and he already feels himself getting close to just grinding against his best friend's leg like a dog in heat.

The air thickened with the scent of weed lingering from their earlier hits, mixing with the musky hint of arousal seeping through Donghyuck's jeans.

"Keep going, just like that," Jaemin murmured, his free hand slipping under Donghyuck's hoodie to trace down his stomach, slowly fidgeting with his waistband. Donghyuck's breath hitched, his cock twitching hard against Jaemin's thigh, pre-cum leaking steadily now, soaking the front of his skinny jeans in a dark patch that Jaemin eyed with a predatory gaze.

The chorus hit again, and Jaemin amped up the tempo, his thigh bouncing firmer, higher, grinding up into Donghyuck's crotch with deliberate force. His head lolled back, exposing the column of his throat that had small bite marks sprinkled about, a soft moan escaping as he humped Jaemin’s leg shamelessly, the friction from his denim jeans and soft cotton underwear. His vision became spotty

“Jae..Jae, please.” Donghyuck says his breathing is shallow and desperate. Jaemin dropped the drumsticks on the floor, turning Donghyuck around to face him. He rubbed his hands through the older male's toned hair as a sign of comfort. Jaemin looked in Donghyuck’s eyes, his eyeliner already watering from the desperate tears of pleasure filling his eyes.

“You’re all worked up over humping my leg? I barely touched you, Hyuck. I knew you were pathetic, but not that pathetic.”

Jaemin said, cupping Donghyuck’s face, looking back at him with a predatory smirk.

Donghyuck looked at Jaemin, taken aback by his statement.

I barely touched you…

“But you…the thing with your leg…” Donghyuck’s voice still whiny he couldn’t look at Jaemin without his heart beating out of his chest.

Jaemin pats Donghyuck’s head like he’s a dog getting a treat. “Oh, baby, no…you were the one humping my leg subconsciously, don’t think I didn’t see that. All I did was play the drums.”

Donghyuck's eyes narrowed. Jaemin always found a way to get under his skin, but this time, there is something eerily hot about it. He couldn’t explain what it was, but he knew deep down how Jaemin was talking to him, turned him on even more

“Do you have something you wanna say to me? You look like you do,” Jaemin says, teasingly playing with his snake bite, looking at Donghyuck.

“You are sick. I know what you’re doing, and I’m not falling for it. I want this just as much as you do, and your body is telling on you.” Donghyuck said, leaning into Jaemin’s chest, touching their chests.

“I never said I wasn’t turned on. I’m just saying, it’s fascinating how you came just from humping my leg without even realizing it. That doesn’t happen out of nowhere, Hyuck. That tells me you’ve been thinking about this for a while, even if you won’t admit it. Your body just caught up to what your mind’s been hiding. All I did was give you a push.” Jaemin said softly, whispering in Donghyuck’s ear before kissing down his neck once more.

Donghyuck bit his lip, trying to stifle the soft moans that tried to escape his lips. He hated that Jaemin was right. He’s been thinking about this for months. This time, he can actually take action. The feeling of arousal swirled in his stomach. Donghyuck began to strip, taking off his hoodie and a black tank top that he wore, exposing his mesmerizing frame, his small waist, and his toned chest. It was on full display for his best friend to see.

A sharp exhale escaped from Jaemin’s lips as he saw Donghyuck shirtless. He had always known the other boy was pretty, but something about their situation made him realize it. It was more noticeable now, from how soft his skin felt to how pretty his curves were

Jaemin slipped off his Fall Out Boy t-shirt, exposing his slightly toned body to Donghyuck, before leaning to kiss him again. Donghyuck’s lips were soft, flushed with the color he adored; the same vanilla Chapstick that adorned the other boy's lips had, with the taste of weed lingering like a distant memory.

Jaemin’s hands trailed down Donghyuck’s pants, unbuckling them slowly, tugging them open with a swift yank. Donghyuck's cock sprang free, hard and flushed, the head glistening with pre-cum. Jaemin wrapped his fingers around the base, squeezing as he pumped once, slow and firm, watching Donghyuck's face contort in bliss.

Donghyuck pawed at Jaemin’s pants, desperate to free the other male cock as his hands trembled against the button of the jeans. He slowly got the pants open, seeing Jaemin’s hard cock. Everything about it was impeccably neat. He was slightly cleaned-shaven, with only a strip of hair dyed at his tip, a pretty pinkish-brown color, leaking a bit of pre-cum just like Donghyuck.

“See, you need me just as much as I need you. Please let me grind against it. I need to feel all of you, please, Jae.” Donghyuck whispered, his voice crackling with desperation, giving Jaemin a pitiful stare.

Jaemin let out a soft exhale, staring back at Donghyuck with pleading eyes before wrapping his hands around both of their cocks, grinding against each other. Donghyuck grabbed the rim of the drum to steady himself as he began to rut against Jaemin desperately.

"Shit~" Jaemin whined, trying to hold back his moans as he started to rut faster against Donghyuck's cock. The boys cocks were slicked with each other's fluids and sensitive to the touch. The tip of their cocks was flushed a raw pink color. Donghyuck leaned in grabbing Jaemin's hair forcefully, making the other male look at him. Jaemin's eyes were filled with desperate lust, the type that has been repressed for years, that slowly bubbles up over time.

"Let me fuck you, baby, please. I need you," Jaemin says breathlessly, his eyes glossy like he was going to cry. Donghyuck nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat as a perverted smile spread across his face. He was finally getting what he wanted: Jaemin filling him up and claiming him as his own

Jaemin turned Donghyuck around, lifting him off his thigh, bending him over his drum set, tracing his hand down the small of his back. Donghyuck's back dermals glimmered against Jaemin's silver rings while the cold metal from the drums pressed on Donghyuck's stomach.

Jaemin reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube he stored away. "I'm going to treat you so well, baby, you don't know how bad I need you like this. I promise, baby, to make you feel so good." Jaemin groans, his voice silked with lust. Donghyuck arched his back a little bit, flashing his hole to Jaemin, letting out a desperate whine.

The cold lube swirled around the tip of Jaemin’s finger, slowly tracing the other male’s rim, teasing it ever so slightly. A muffled mewl escaped Donghyuck's lips. He was already so sensitive from humping Jaemin’s leg. The room lingered with the smell of weed and the musk of the boys' colognes that were currently being sweated off. "Relax, honey, I've got you. Just keep arching your back just like that for me," Jaemin whispers in Donghyuck's ear as he inserts a finger inside of Donghyuck, stretching him out.

"Jae-Jaemin fuck~." Donghyuck whimpers, his knuckles turning a pale white as he grips the drum set, trying to keep himself stable. The sensations of Jaemin's rings, along with the feeling of his long, thin fingers teasing him, were enough to make Donghyuck feel like he was having a pleasure-induced psychotic break. Jaemin inserted another finger; this time, his silver skull ring went inside as well, grazing the other males' prostate. "You are taking my fingers so well, Hyuck. You like how my rings feel inside of you, don't you?" Jaemin says his voice dripping with condescension and lust. Donghyuck's back arches, letting out a strangled whimper as he listens to Jaemin's words. "J-Just put it in, I will be good, just give me your cock." Donghyuck groans out complete submission, seeping with his words.

The sounds escaping Donghyuck's lips stroked Jaemin's ego more than he liked to admit to himself. He wanted Donghyuck more than anything in the world; everything about the older male was intoxicating. The way he speaks, his scent, the softness of his skin. For months, Jaemin never wanted to cross that line. The thought of ruining their friendship over a hookup scared him more than anything, but now he has the man he met in the gross Hongdae dive bar bent over on his drum set, whining and begging for his dick. Jaemin slowly removed his fingers from Donghyuck, earning a shiver and incoherent mumbles from the other male. The younger male pulled his dick out of his boxers that were slightly stained from pre-cum leaking out. He wiped the tip of his cock using his precum as extra lube, tracing Donghyuck's hole once more before making Donghyuck face him, grinding his cock against Donghyuck, teasing the poor two-toned hair emo's pretty, lubed-up hole.

"You promise you will be a good little boy for me, hyuck, while taking my cock mhm-" Jaemin says as he continues to grind against the whiny boy's hole with that sadistic look in his eyes. Donghyuck could feel the weed and pleasure clouding his mind, along with Jaemin's sadistic look, which could make him orgasm right then and there. "I-I will p-promise I promise." Donghyuck pleaded, his eyes watering with desperation. Jaemin smirked, easing his cock inside of Donghyuck, stretching him out nice and slow, using his hands to keep the whimpering boy's legs open. Donghyuck gripped Jaemin's arm to stabilize himself, adjusting to the size of Jaemin's length.

"Fuck~” Donghyuck bit his lip, groans escaping his lips, his eyes still glassy, and the intoxicating feeling of his high was settling in, making him feel even more desperate than he already was. Jaemin's thrusts were slow and passionate. He kissed down the other’s neck, his thumbs brushing against Donghyuck’s sensitive nipples, teasing him as he thrusted. Donghyuck’s eyes squeeze shut, his two-toned hair clinging to his forehead, along with his puffy pink lips swollen from kissing and biting.

Jaemin’s thrust started to speed up as he gently grabbed Donghyuck’s face, forcing him to look at him. “Look at me, darling~ You look at me while I’m fucking you. I wanna see the pathetic faces you make.” Donghyuck whined, just barely opening his eyes, tears spilling out as he blinked. “You are so teary-eyed, honey. Does my dick really feel that good? You are so pathetic, but you knew a good boy as you could take it.” Jaemin hissed his lustful words were like silk against Donghyuck’s ears.

Jaemin leaned down, thrusting deeper into Donghyuck's hole, foreheads touching as his free hand grips the other’s throat, placing slight pressure on his Adam's apple that nervously bobs in his throat. “You are so pretty, Hyuck~ s-so pretty.” Jaemin groans into Donghyuck’s neck, trying to keep his composure. At this point, he didn’t even care about his own personal pleasure; he just wanted Donghyuck to feel good. Donghyuck’s hand traveled to Jaemin’s hair, pulling his jet black locs as Jaemin started to hit his prostate once again.

“I-I close,” Donghyuck whines, his voice barely coherent, tugging roughly at Jaemin’s hair as his orgasm pools in his lower abdomen. “C-Cum on my cock, baby~ mark my cock as yours.” Jaemin whimpers as he bites down on Donghyuck’s neck, feeling his orgasm swirling as well. Dark tears streamed down Donghyuck’s face from his eyeliner running as a string of babbles fizzled out of Donghyuck’s lips as his cocked leaked ropes of cum on his stomach, leaving a sticky white mess behind. Jaemin kept abusing Donghyuck’s prostate, planting small kisses on the other’s neck before ultimately cuming inside of him—the pair collapsed on each other, riding out their orgasms.

Ten minutes later, Jaemin removed his cock from Donghyuck, watching some of his cum spill out of his hole in the back of his mind, smiling at his work. He kissed Donghyuck's lips, wiping away his tears, lifted him off the drumset, placed him on his bed, and used a rag to clean him up. “You lived up to your expectations, Jae,” Donghyuck says, dazed, taking in a deep breath. “Are you finally admitting I was right all along, Hyuck? I’m flattered, actually.” Jaemin teased, handing Donghyuck the water bottle from his side table.

“Don’t push it.” Donghyuck murmurs, rolling his eyes, playfully cuddling up next to Jaemin, staring into his eyes, and analyzing his facial features, as peaceful bliss sets in.

🩶 - my twitter

angsty woosan oneshot

‼️dead dove do not eat / mention of alcohol & substances / toxic situationship / implied/slight smut / mentions of depression / friends to toxic lovers? / internalized homophobia

Author's note: this one-shot takes inspiration from two Chappell Roan songs Casual and Good Luck Babe. I would recommend listening to these songs while reading to get the full effect. I also have an A03, where I will be posting other series and oneshots, but don't worry, I will keep updating on Tumblr. My A03 is @/bittenfawn

Unfortunately, waking up in dingy motel rooms on the outskirts of Seoul was a regular occurrence for San.

The room was riddled with empty alcohol bottles, half-eaten carry-out containers, balled-up clothing that smelled like sweat and cologne, and a thin layer of regret and sadness clinging to every surface like a stuffy Christmas candle. The empty condom wrapper sat on the nightstand. At the same time, ecstasy pills were crushed up like Fun Dip powder. His pants sat inside near the edge of the bed, damp with something he couldn’t even name.

San looked at the clock on the nightstand next to him. The bright red numbers flashed the time back at him aggressively.

It was 5:45 am.

The sun was slowly rising, its rays peeking through the blinds, but oddly enough, the room still felt dark.

It wasn’t the type of darkness that you could fix with a light source. It was the type of darkness that ruminates within your skin and settles within your bones until it makes it into your psyche.

San shifted slowly, careful not to disturb the silhouette peacefully sleeping beside him.

Jung Wooyoung

A stranger, essentially. But not really. At least not the traditional sense…They knew everything about each other’s bodies, every scar, freckle, and soft place to land. But somehow, whenever Wooyoung woke beside him, he felt more like a distant memory slowly fading out of existence. He was there physically, of course, yet he still felt unreachable.

A stranger was wearing his best friend’s skin like a dress

San looked over at him for a moment. Somehow, he was still stunning while he slept. His lips were slightly parted, and his bleached blond hair messily lay on his forehead. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t just wreck San for the fifth time this month. Like this was just a casual thing “friends” do. Like, San wasn’t slowly losing his mind.

Maybe this was normal for Wooyoung.

Just another dingy motel filled with drugs and alcohol, while the smell of sex and expensive cologne scent the room.

San’s stomach was doing backflips as anxiety bubbles. He exhaled through his nose and sat up, running his hands through his hair.

But it hadn’t always been this way

It all started with a scraped knee…

San was eight, and Wooyoung had pushed him off the jungle gym at the local park after school, not with malicious intentions, but with dumb, boyish excitement. San had hit the mulch-covered pavement, scraping his knees and palms, which were also stinging red from breaking his fall.

He remembers holding back his tears, trying not to cry in front of anyone, let alone Wooyoung. But Wooyoung had crouched beside him, his tiny fingers brushing the dirt on his knee. Then he leaned down and kissed the scrape. Soft. Like it was instinct.

Just like that something snapped in San…

He never told anyone; he couldn’t describe his warm feeling for his best friend. He knew it wasn’t platonic, but he knew that liking boys, especially ones who are your best friend, was taboo to say the least. His feelings felt like a cancerous infection deepening every day. San would write Wooyoung’s name in the back of his notebook, which he used for school, and doodle little hearts around like the girls in his grade would do with their crushes. After a while, he would messily scratch his doodles, ashamed of what he did.

They grew up inseparable. Sleepovers where they stayed up all night watching horror movies, legs tangled under the covers. Bike rides where Wooyoung would pull ahead and then circle back, grinning, shouting, “Come on, Sannie!”

San always followed.

He followed Wooyoung into middle school. Into high school. Wooyoung was popular among the girls of his school. Whenever San saw Wooyoung, he was either pillow talking to some girl or getting a confession like clockwork. San couldn’t help but feel jealous, but at the end of the day, you shouldn’t feel like this towards your best friend; it’s not right, especially since you both are guys.

San decided to date around. He had gotten confessions from girls in the school before, but always turned them down, saying that he was focusing on studies and not telling them why he was trying to fill the oddly Wooyoung-shaped void. Compared to his feelings when he was younger, he now felt like all his thoughts had grown teeth and slowly feasted on his psyche, like a leech.

After a while, he gave up on dating every girl he went out with; he felt like he was leading them on, and they didn’t deserve that, but even though he stopped dating, Wooyoung continued. He watched him flirt without fear. Watched him smile that perfect smile at everyone but him.

And yet, San stayed. Hoping.

The first real crack came in high school. San was sixteen. They were alone in Wooyoung’s room, lying side by side on the floor, too close, pretending they weren’t. A movie played quietly in the background, forgotten. San’s heart was pounding too loudly.

Wooyoung sat up pushing back his jet black locs looking over at San studying his features slowly

“Have you ever kissed a guy before?”

Wooyoung asked, out of nowhere.

San whipped his head around, his breath hitching, as he was startled by the question. He couldn’t find the words to express his thoughts, so he quickly stuttered out a response

“N-no. Have you?”

Wooyoung shrugged, grinning with his toothy smile that always made San’s heart race a mile a minute. Wooyoung moved closer to San, placing his hands on his thigh, then looking up at him with his brown eyes that were so deep it was like staring into a cup of dark coffee

“Wanna try it?”

Those words echoed in San’s mind .

Wooyoung had to be joking…

It can’t be a joke.

Right?

But San leaned in anyway.

Wooyoung leaned in, holding San’s face, kissing his lips like he’d craved this feeling. San was flabbergasted, to say the least. He felt like he could barf up his heart because it was beating so fast, but San kissed back. It was a dream come true in San’s eyes. But he couldn’t help but wonder why Wooyoung did this. Why did Wooyoung kiss him?

Wooyoung pulled away, wiping the excess spit from his plump lips, stood up, and looked down at San, still sitting on the ground. A soft giggle left his lips as he stared at San. The type of giggle that could warm hearts, specifically San’s.

“You are such a good kisser, Sannie. I never kissed a guy before, maybe you should be my practice partner.

“You wouldn't mind, right?”

San pretended to laugh too, even as something in his chest collapsed quietly. He couldn’t believe what he heard, but wasn’t surprised either. All San could do was flash a small fake smile before speaking

“If you want..I don't mind.”

That night, San walked to the train station with headphones, replaying the moment from earlier. The way Wooyoung's lips felt on his, the warmth and comfort swallowed him whole. It played on a constant loop on the train ride back to his home. It shouldn’t have been that serious because it was just practice.

But was it?

Was it really practice?

After that night, something changed in San's look at him. It got harder to hide, harder to breathe when Wooyoung walked into a room. He started catching feelings like a sickness: quiet and persistent, impossible to shake.

And Wooyoung?

He never seemed to notice.

Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn’t care

Years passed.

They stayed in each other’s lives, even when they weren’t supposed to. Even when the timing was wrong, even when they were both with other people. San dated quietly, loved clumsily. No one ever lasted. No one was ever Wooyoung.

After college, they slipped into different lives.

San secured a position as a financial advisor in Uptown Seoul, working in a sleek office, dressed in tailored suits, with extended hours and early mornings. This was the life one builds when striving to prove stability, a life that looked impressive on paper..

Wooyoung, on the other hand, was chasing nights he never wanted to end. A club promoter in Itaewon, always on guest lists, always drenched in sweat, bass, perfume, and champagne. He lived in the dark, thunderous music, strobe lights, and strangers pressed against his body like heat.

Wooyoung wore leather and glitter.

San wore pressed collars and wristwatches.

They lived in different universes.

And yet, somehow, they kept finding their way back to each other.

They hadn’t spoken in four months.

And then came Seonghwa’s gallery opening

San went to support his best friend. He wore a black turtleneck and clean slacks, the same scent he always wore: sandalwood and French vanilla. His hair was brushed neatly. His smile was warm. His heart was barricaded.

The gallery's internal walk was going smoothly. San mingled with other attendees while enjoying the fancy finger sandwiches that Seongwha had catered. The night was going as planned. There were no distractions or disruptions; nothing was going to ruin this night for San.

About two hours later, right before the after-party started, San was at the bar getting a glass of Merlot when a familiar scent hit his nose, almost making him shiver. The scent was incredibly infectious. The hints of cherry and champagne made San bite his lip softly. He looked up from his drink; his eyes met the source of that scent that paralyzed him.

It was Wooyoung

He wore a white linen button-up unbuttoned to reveal the outline of his chest. Silver rings adorned his fingers, while cherry-scented lip gloss and unwashed silver body glitter complemented his complexion

The eyes of that man that hadn’t seen San in months but still knew where to land.

He was late.

He always was.

San felt his stomach drop to his butt. The night was going perfectly until he showed. He felt like this was going to be the one night that Wooyoung wanted to play psychological warfare games on him, especially at an event that wasn’t his.

The worst part is that San had already locked eyes with Wooyoung. Like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. Wooyoung was beautiful

Wooyoung smirked from across the room as he approached Seongwha to congratulate him on his gallery's success.

It’s only been an hour since the after-party, and San is on his third glass of Merlot, swishing it around in the wine glass, staring out into the crowd. He is contemplating whether he will go home since watching Wooyoung flirt with anyone is slowly killing him, but the wine is numbing the blow slightly.

As San sipped wine, feeling the alcohol melt on his lips, the acidity and sweetness lingering, the scent of danger appeared again. Wooyoung slithered his way next to San, his sweet cologne filling up the very little personal space they shared

“You look good,” he said, voice low

“Different Too..”

San sighed before looking into Wooyoung’s eyes with a dark and tired expression.

“You don’t.”

Wooyoung tilted his head to the side, staring at San with those same dark eyes San gave, but instead of the look of sadness and dread, his eyes were filled with lust and desire

"I missed you, Sannie. I know I haven't called, I've just been so busy with the club and the parties I have to attend, and promote."

Wooyoung leaned in even more with a slight pouty expression, his fingers tracing San's veins on the top of his hands slowly before looking in the other man's eyes once again

"Did you miss me, Sannie?"

San swallowed his spit, feeling his mind race. Was he still upset? He couldn’t be? He missed Wooyoung? But Wooyoung isn’t a healthy person to be around?

San stared at Wooyoung, his eyes tired but now lustful, grabbed Wooyoung’s face, kissing him. His lips still tasted like the merlot he was downing like pills to numb the pain.

Wooyoung kissed back, smirking internally. He had gotten exactly what he wanted. He deepened the kiss, cupping his hand on the crook of San's neck to steady himself. He pulled away, grabbed San's hand, pulled off the couch, and dragged him out of the after-party, searching for a more secluded area

They found a bathroom within the Gallery.

Wooyoung kissed him like he was trying to punish him. Like he wanted to make him forget why he ever pulled away.

San let him. Because he wanted to believe, just for one night, that maybe he meant something to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung stood in front of San, slowly undoing his belt buckle before getting on his knees in front of him with a devil-like smirk and pretty doll eyes, looking up at San

“Seems like you missed me, huh, Sannie?” Wooyoung said, pulling down his boxers, exposing San’s hard cock that was aching for Wooyoung’s touch.

San flinched slightly, swallowing hard, his heart racing a mile a minute. He stared at Wooyoung, his lips trembling as he tried to find the right words. Who could blame him? The guy of his dreams, somebody he always runs back to, no matter how bad they treat him, is now sitting in front of him on his knees, flashing those beautiful eyes he adores.

“I-I missed you…quite a bit actually” San said his cheeks flushed as he swallowed hard.

Wooyoung’s smile turned wicked, eyes glinting like a predator’s. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the tip of San’s cock first, deliberate and slow, before wrapping his lips around San completely, gaze never breaking. Dark, lust-heavy eyes stared up at him like a siren’s call, like he was both danger and salvation in one breath.

San covered his mouth, trying to stifle the choked whimpers clawing out of his throat. His glasses fogged from his ragged breath as he watched Wooyoung take him deeper, warm, slick mouth working him over like he had something to prove, like he wanted San to forget every reason he ever left.

And just like always, San did.

San’s head fell back against the cold tile wall, his free hand clutching Wooyoung’s hair, tugging just enough to remind himself this was real, that Wooyoung was here.

It felt good. Too good. The kind of good that made San hate himself a little because he knew how this would end. It always ended the same. But right now, with Wooyoung’s lips wrapped around him, eyes glassy and hungry, San let himself fall deep into lust and love.

“God, Wooyoung…” San’s voice cracked, low and shaky. His knees trembled, his chest heaving, and for a fleeting second, he let himself imagine this was love. Not a mistake, not something temporary. Just love

Wooyoung pulled back slowly, a trail of spit connecting his lips to San’s swollen cock. He smirked up at him, wiping his mouth with his hand before standing, pressing their mouths together again, messy and unrestrained. Wooyoung tasted like alcohol and peppermint gum, like every bad decision San ever made. When they finally broke apart, San’s forehead rested against his, breathless and raw.

For a second, it almost felt safe.

For a second, San thought maybe this time would be different.

But thinking that was just gullible in itself, there was always that inkling in San’s mind that one day this would turn into something more than hooking up in random bathrooms and motels.

Maybe it will be lovely dates at restaurants that they’ve never tried, or walking along the beach together, exploring different things in nature, or even something domestic, cooking together in the kitchen, just embracing each other and looking at each other like they were the last people on earth.

After the gallery, San hadn’t seen Wooyoung for weeks. This was typical. After Wooyoung got what he wanted, he would ghost until he needed that fill again.

No calls. No texts. Not even a email

The same typical behavior.

It didn’t even matter if San reached out first because he would’ve just been talking to himself in Wooyoung’s messages like a crazy person. He didn’t wanna seem like he was thirsty for Wooyoung’s attention, but deep down, he knew he was.

Drinking and occasionally doing drugs would settle his nerves. It was either that or constantly crying his eyes out. Responsibility didn’t stop when your heart was stomped on over and over again. This whole relationship continually sent him into spirals of depression that he couldn’t pull himself out of, but he had a job to do and things to pay, such as bills.

It was Seonghwa who pulled him out of his fog weeks later.

“San,” Seonghwa’s voice was soft over the phone, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “I know you’ve been a bit…sad lately. We’re having a dinner thing at Mingi’s place this Friday. Just friends. You should come.”

San hesitated, staring at half smoked joint in his hand. “I don’t know, Hwa. I’m not exactly good company these days.”

“You don’t have to be,” Seonghwa replied gently. “Just… let us remind you that you’ve got people who actually care.”

San huffed, and perhaps it was the raw sincerity in his friend's voice that prompted him to say yes.

Seongwha was right; he needed to leave his apartment and focus on something other than Wooyoung and his stressful job situation, but something profound in San’s gut hated this idea.

Staying positive was the goal here. Right?

The apartment was warm, laughter spilling through the open windows, music humming low beneath clinking glasses. The smell of Mingi’s cooking clung to the air, and for a moment,

San thought maybe

just maybe

tonight wouldn’t hurt

But then he saw him.

Wooyoung was leaning against the kitchen island, a drink in hand, grinning at a girl San didn’t recognize. She laughed, twirling her hair, leaning closer every time he spoke. he had that look in his eyes, the look he would always give San, the look of love, the look of hopefulness the look of desire the look that people talk about in movies the one that is so identifiable when you’re slowly falling in love.

Wooyoung looked at that girl the way San always begged the universe to make him look at him like she was the only person in the world. San craved that look, craved it until it ached in his chest.

He wanted Wooyoung to see him, like him, and make him feel like more than a second choice. Instead, all he ever felt was disgust curdling in his stomach, sadness heavy in his bones, loneliness gnawing at his ribs. And above everything else, his heartbreak was sharp, relentless, and alive.

San pretended not to notice Wooyoung and grabbed a plate of food sitting next to Seongwha, trying not to make a scene at Mingi’s party. It wouldn’t be fair to him, plus. Wooyoung had every reason to be here as much as he did, so if he didn’t think about it or at least confront him out in public, he wouldn’t publicly humiliate himself or make Mingi look bad

It was strange to think about this situation he was in with Wooyoung, which was so debilitating on everything, his psyche, his heart. He constantly felt like a punching bag for him in some ways. But the attention and love Wooyoung gave San was more addictive than any drug he’s ever taken. It was like Wooyoung was like an opioid, and San was the addict craving that high like clockwork

After dinner, San slipped away to the bathroom, gripping the sink with white knuckles, trying to calm the ache clawing up his chest. His reflection looked like a ghost's eyes red, jaw clenched, his face almost drained of its color. He just needed a breath of fresh air, needed to get through this event without breaking in front of everyone.

But of course, the universe wasn’t that kind. Because there he was.

Wooyoung, leaning against the hallway wall like he owned it, drink in hand, one hand tucked lazily into his pocket. That easy, devastating grin was already tugging at his lips, the one that made San’s stomach twist no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

“Finally,” Wooyoung drawled, his voice dripping with teasing warmth.

“I thought you were gonna hide in there all night.” He took a slow step closer, eyes glittering under the hallway light.

San swallowed hard, nails biting into his palms. He hated how his pulse jumped just from hearing that voice. “Who’s the girl you came in with?” he asked, trying to sound steady, but it came out quieter, desperate.

Wooyoung grinned like something was funny.

"That's Minjoo, she's a dancer at the club I work at. Isn't she hot? I've been fucking with her for about a week and she's fantastic. She's not clingy, she doesn't expect me to call her, she isn't catching feelings for me, she knows this is all casual. Plus, she's on the pill, so she won't get pregnant." Wooyoung said softly, taking a sip of his drink.

San was taken aback, his head tilted to the side, trying to grasp what Wooyoung said fully. The words coming out of his mouth didn’t even feel real. It felt like a sick joke. It was one thing for Wooyoung to be catty and snippy, but it was another when he was being full-on disrespectful

“You’re unbelievable,” San’s voice echoed the sound of is attitude shifting.“You talk to women like that? But I shouldn’t be surprised you speak to me like this all the time, so do you treat everybody like a second-class citizen, or is it just the people you claimed to be in love with?”

Wooyoung's eyes widened before letting out a guttural laugh, looking at San, his eyes tearing up from how funny and unbelievable the words coming out of San’s mouth were. He wiped away his laughter tears, slowly catching his breath.

“This is the funniest shit I’ve heard all day, you think I’m in love with you? Oh my God, for somebody who works in a profession where you use your brain often. You sure do act like you don’t have one. For all I know, it could be fucking hollow up there.”

Wooyoung took a sip of his drink, the sparkling wine danced on his lips as he stared at San’s eyes.

The same pathetic eyes would stare back at Wooyoung after every hookup.

The same ones would stare back at him after ghosting San for months.

The same ones who would beg and plead with him not to leave every single time.

“I never liked you; you were always about convenience for me, and you knew our situation. Why would I have feelings for someone I’m casually hooking up with? I think you’re just a bit delusional.”

San’s heart pounded his face feeling warm with anger but also embarrassment.

“I’m delusional? You got to be fucking kidding me, you’re the one who kissed me when we were sixteen, you were the one who held me while I was asleep when we used to have sleepovers.”

San’s jaw trembled as he tried to keep his voice from breaking.

"You were the one who said you loved me right after the first time we slept together. You say it every time, like it’s nothing. But what about that night at the gallery? Did that mean nothing to you? The way you kissed me, the way you looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered, don’t lie and say that didn’t mean something, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung smirked, a low, wicked chuckle curling from his lips as he shook his head in disbelief

“San, are you seriously still hung up on that kiss? That was years ago. I was curious, nothing more. That moment was nothing more than an experiment, plus we were kids, and did stupid shit. You are acting like this kiss was some life-altering moment.”

He tilted his head, scoffing, thinking this situation is utterly pointless and laughable

"And now you're dragging up the gallery like it was some romantic milestone? You mean the night I sucked you off in a filthy bathroom while you moaned my name like the desperate slut you are, and you think that was love? It's also baffling that you feel the kiss that followed was some sort of grand confession of love."

His eyes turned cold as he stared at San with annoyance bubbling beneath the surface like a kettle.

“Grow up. Get a grip.”

San's throat burned as he held in his tears

"It meant something to me, Woo. I have loved you since we were kids, even when I thought it was wrong. For years, I sat in denial, hoping and praying I would actually get over the fact I had a crush on my best friend...on my best friend who is a man."

San's tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, burning his flesh.

Wooyoung stared at him, face unreadable. Not pity, not regret. Just that same infuriating calm detachment.

“That’s your problem, not mine. You want a medal for struggling with your sexuality? For secretly loving your best friend who’s a man? Boo-fucking-hoo.”

San let out a shaky breath, his tears still falling

“You know what? Fuck you, Wooyoung.”

His voice cracked, sharp and loud, anger cutting through the heartbreak like broken glass.

“You think I wanted this? You think I asked to fall for someone who treats me like I’m disposable every time he gets scared of his own damn feelings?”

He stepped forward, still crying, staring into Wooyoung's eyes. It took everything out of San to not start screaming at Wooyoung and airing everything that was happening to the rest of the group.

“You think mocking me makes you strong? You think pushing me away makes you straight? You’re not fooling anyone, not me, not your friends, not even that poor girl you dragged here just to prove a point because you are a fucking coward."

San’s voice cracked his lips, trembling

“You brought her to this party like she was your fucking alibi, like you needed to show everyone, ‘Look, I’m normal! I’m not in love with the boy I used to sneak glances at when no one was watching! While also fucking the same guy that you claim is your best friend'."

Wooyoung's eyes flicker with shame as they slowly get smothered by shame

“Don’t act like you know me.”

Wooyoung’s voice cracked, just for a moment, but he covered it quickly, blinking hard as if that might erase the flicker of vulnerability.

“But don’t you dare act like you’re innocent. Like you didn’t love the way I touched you in secret. You kept running back to me even when you knew I’d never say the words you wanted to hear. If anything, that makes you just as much of a coward. So I guess we are even, huh, Sannie?"

Wooyoung pushed past San, walking down the hallway, making his way back to the dinner party. He looks back at San, who was wiping his tears, but there was no use because he couldn't stop the tears from slipping out of his eyes like a faucet.

“Pathetic.” Wooyoung mumbles as he makes his way back out to the party and mingles with everyone like he didn't just kill San emotionally in the hallway.

San emerged from the hallway a few minutes later, his eyes still red and exhausted. He went to get his coat and went up to Seongwha and Mingi, who were cleaning up.

"I'm going to head home, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a fantastic time, and the food was terrific. I will text you when I get home." San said softly, flashing a fake smile masking his genuine emotions.

"Oh no. I'm sorry, hyung, please get home safe. I'm glad you came tonight." Mingi dropped his bottles on the counter to give San a hug goodbye.

Seongwha was suspicious of San's behavior, but he didn't push it, giving him a tight hug like this was going to be the last time he was going to see him.

San accepted the hugs before making his way to the front of the house to give his goodbyes. As he makes it back into the front, he locks eyes with Wooyoung once again. His chest felt heavy once again.

Wooyoung looked back at San before looking at Minjoo, who was snuggled on the couch next to him, drinking a glass of wine. Wooyoung made Minjoo look at him before whispering something in her ear that made her giggle, before planning a sweet kiss on her lips, making sure San sees

Wooyoung pulls away before staring at San once again, but this time acknowledging him.

"Are you leaving? It was good seeing you, Sannie. We should catch up again, you have my number, don't be a stranger." Wooyoung said with a sweet like venom, putting on the most impressive acting job of the century cocking his head like a confused puppy.

San looked at Wooyoung, realizing what he was doing, and it disgusted him and made his heart ache again. How could he be so manipulative and convincing? San smiled his pristine fake smile, running his hand through his hair.

"Of course...I will text you goodnight, Wooyoung." San said his voice was soft and tired.

It has been 3 years since then...

San was currently sitting on the edge of the dingy motel bed with Wooyoung peacefully snoring beside him. San looked at the excess ecstasy pill dust, snorting it.

His nose sensitive to the powdery substance filling his nose as he starts to collect his items from the messy hotel room. He slips his clothes on, grabbing his wallet and keys, leaving Wooyoung alone in the motel, getting his car, pulling out his phone, blocking Wooyoung on everything.

As the sun slowly rises, San mumbles as he drives away from the hotel. He makes it back home to his house, grabs a box, and puts all the memories of Wooyoung he has in it. He has photos, clothes, gifts, and poems. He goes and shoves everything in the box before taking it outside, pouring lighter fluid on it, pulling out matches, and lighting the contents in the box on fire.

“I should’ve stopped loving you a long time ago.”

series

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blurbs

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one shots

push & pull (angst)