#freefall woosan

Once Hongjoong and Yunho left, the only two remaining in the room where the two of them. The silence that fell over them was somewhat comforting and somewhat uncomfortable. Their relationship was the same lately. Neither of them knew what was going on between them. That is only natural after what happened last time…

Yeosang sat in silence on the ground, his usually serene face etched with pain from Hongjoong’s punch. He just stared off into nothingness, still trying to cope with what just happened. Did Wooyoung’s brother really just mistake him for an alpha? One that Wooyoung would sleep at that. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it; be confused or happy or neither.

Wooyoung on the other end knew how to feel. He was pissed off. He hastily covered himself with a bathrobe, brows knitted with concern as he approached Yeosang and moved to help him up from the ground. Being naked around him was something Wooyoung had experienced more lately than he wanted to. Yeosang took his hand calmly and stood up from the ground. Wooyoung’s expression softened as he saw the bruise on the other’s face now up close.

“Yeosang” he murmured, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Yeosang glanced up, flinching from the touch. His eyes reflected a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’ll be fine” he replied, his voice tight with emotion. His eyes searched Wooyoung’s.

The latter sighed, a pang of guilt twisting in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Yeosang scoffed as if saying ‘what are you sorry for?’ then sidestepped him. “Let go, I’ll just leave” he muttered the words, attempting to pull away from Wooyoung’s grasp but the other’s glare stopped him short, the intensity of it making him gulp nervously.

He unconsciously glanced at his bare chest trough the slightly open bathrobe. A drop of blood trickled from Yeosang’s nose, landing on his swollen lips. As if instinctually, he tried to lick it away but when he felt the irony taste his face flushed fully.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened. He pulled Yeosang closer, gently wiping away the blood with his thumb. They stood mere inches apart.

“Are you crazy? Like hell I’m going to let you go like this! I had no idea he hit you that hard” Wooyoung whispered so low Yeosang could feel his breath on his skin. A shiver ran down his spine, spreading all over his body. It successfully sent another drop of blood falling from his nose.

Wooyoung watched it drip down as neither of them moved, then finally wiped it away with his thumb when it was about to reach Yeosang’s lips. “Let me clean you up.”

He let go of the other and hurriedly left to the bathroom, leaving Yeosang to ponder at his words. More than pondering he was fanboying, really. He couldn’t help but remember the last time they were alone like this.

“Hey, so… If this is about last time I—”

“What last time?” Wooyoung interrupted swiftly, twirling on his heels to look at his friend. “There is no last time you could be talking about.” He spoke so fast Yeosang took several seconds to play it back in his mind and process it.

“Wooyoung…” he paused, considering his words carefully before responding.

Said person pondered for a second then walked back up to Yeosang with a quick pace just as his brother did a few minutes ago. Yeosang instinctively pulled back but Wooyoung grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back. Yeosang anticipated to be hit on the other side of his face from where he was hit before by Hongjoong – just as God intended.

He braced himself, expecting another blow, but instead Wooyoung spoke, his voice tinged with confusion. “What are you doing?” He asked, trying to decipher the face his friend was making. Yeosang opened his eyes and peeked at the other.

Yeosang’s gaze met Wooyoung’s, his expression a mix of many things. “What are you doing?” he shot back, his voice trembling slightly. Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

The air between them crackled with tension.

“Obviously I—”

“Wait, let’s both say on the count of three what we thought the other was trying to do” Yeosang suggested, his tone way too serious to allow Wooyoung a hearty laugh at his friend.

Still, he couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the absurdity of the suggestion, but Yeosang’s expression remained resolute. “Okay. One, two, three.”

“Hit me.”

“Kiss you.”

Dead silence fell over them, broken only by the sound of Yeosang’s laboured breathing. His eyes widened so far off he had to blink a few times from the pain he caused himself. He couldn’t help but cough nervously and cover his burning face with his palm.

“Whatever do you mean you thought I was trying to hit you?” Wooyoung screamed at him with his hands on his hips as if the other’s idea wasn’t reasonable.

Yeosang met his gaze, his eyes shimmering with confusion and hope. “You think my idea is nonsense? Look at you! Trying to kiss me? What are you on?” He retorted.

Wooyoung side eyed him and grabbed his hand to pull him into the bathroom. He walked so fast Yeosang almost fell over trying to keep up the pace. Wooyoung sat Yeosang on the side of his bathtub and opened the medical cabinet near the sink for some supplies to treat his wounds.

“Aren’t you going to answer me” Yeosang nudged him, wincing as the antiseptic Wooyoung pressed onto his swollen face stung him.

“Shut up” Wooyoung muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He pretended to focus but the way he was biting the corners of the inside of his lips gave away that he was in fact not calm.

Yeosang refused to back down. “What do you mean shut up? You just confessed you were going to kiss me and you want me to just keep calm when you are aware of my feelings?”

Wooyoung clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Again.

“You kissed me first.”

Yeosang let out a frustrated, dramatically elongated oh. “And so you were just trying to give back the favour, wonderful, classic Wooyoung” he muttered sarcastically, a bitter edge to his tone. “Took me under the same umbrella as all of your one night stands didn’t you?”

Wooyoung’s grip tightened on Yeosang’s face. He sucked in a sharp breath and did something – honestly – neither of them expected. With a swift motion he leaned in and kissed the other. Yeosang let out a yelp as he was totally unprepared for this type of – or any kind, really – intimacy. The red ‘warning light’ in his head didn’t even have time to light up before Wooyoung slipped his tongue into his mouth and caressed his own with it. Yeosang’s brain short circuited. He couldn’t even kiss back, he just sat there with eyes wide open, receiving the intense kiss from his friend. Everyday friendship scenario.

Yeosang could feel a rising vibration make its way into the deepest parts of his body as Wooyoung nibbled on his lower lip, and he could feel a moan escape his lips from the action. The kiss was only broken when Wooyoung pulled away and glanced at the other who was insanely kiss drunk, eyes glistening foggily. He quickly resumed to treating the other’s wound, who needed more than few seconds to come down from the ecstatic high he felt. He was left breathless and numb. When he opened his mouth no sound came out, so Wooyoung spoke instead.

“You kissed me first. Remember that” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of their hearts.

Yeosang felt something flutter in his stomach as he gazed into his friend’s eyes from that close. They were dark brown, a stark contrast to his red lips. He felt his body go numb, mind becoming hazy as Wooyoung held his gaze without breaking it. There it went, another drop of blood escaping from his nostril. He embarrassedly turned away to wipe it down, his flushed face an eerily similar shade to it.

“Did my brother hit you that hard or are you just happy to see me?” Wooyoung spoke with a raspy voice, trying to lift the mood and Yeosang couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, not sure how to decipher his own emotions, nonetheless the other’s.

“You did sound like an absolute pervert saying that you know” he replied, too shy to meet Wooyoung’s gaze.

For the next two minutes they refused to talk to or look at each other. On Yeosang’s par this behaviour could be considered normal; he didn’t have much experience, especially not with people he’s head over heals in love with. The only time he kissed someone was his middle school crush on Valentine’s Day, and it was rather a quick peck then a kiss. But now this, oh he was going crazy. Having Wooyoung so close and he smells interesting and he only wears a bathrobe and he has hickeys all over his body and he’s being so gentle with him and they just fucking kissed? What does this all even mean? Does he make a move? Does he pretend it never happened? But why would Wooyoung do so? None of it made sense. Then he glanced up at the other and saw his eyes again. They were eyes he never knew. They were Wooyoung’s eyes, but the expression he made… the only time he saw it before was when he rescued Wooyoung from the club the first time he had slept with San. San.

It all dawned on Yeosang. This wasn’t about him. Not even the kiss he and Wooyoung shared was about him. It was all about Wooyoung and San. In fact, the reason why he smelled so peculiar once again was because besides his own pheromones that he was gently emitting there lingered San’s strong musk he just couldn’t wash off. All those hickeys on his skin were perfect proof of how far off the two of them were and just how little chance Yeosang had to even think of belonging in their world.

“Oh” he whispered with a broken voice and it was enough to catch Wooyoung’s attention. “So you are just playing with me…”

It was Wooyoung’s turn for his eyes to widen in shock. He pulled up his shoulders as if about to attack, but then slumped them down. Yeosang was right. What was he even doing? This is not something he can just take back after saying ‘sike’, this was an other persons life and another person’s emotions…

Yeosang inhaled a huge breath and allowed his muscles to relax.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked gently despite how conflicted he felt. “I doubt you would just ‘repay the favour’, not with me” after he finished he started fidgeting with his cardigan.

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. “Or maybe I know, fuck, I’m just so confused.”

“Spit it out dude.”

“It’s just… San.”

Yeosang hummed. He tried to play it cool not to let the other know he already knew that. Still, he wanted to hear it from Wooyoung.

“San?” he echoed. “What does he have to do with this?”

Wooyoung hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet Yeosang’s eyes. He was blushing again.

“Well I…. hmm it’s so confusing.”

“Come on it’s definitely not rocket science” Yeosang sighed frustrated.

“I’m actually not sure,” he confessed. “There’s something about him that draws me in, something I can’t explain. I keep thinking about him and the time I spent with him and I keep wanting to do that more well not just the sexual stuff I just enjoy his presence and he just draws me in and I—”

Yeosang’s eyes widened in surprise, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face. “You mean... you have feelings for San?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Wooyoung shook his head quickly, his expression pained. “I don’t know,” he repeated, his voice strained with uncertainty. “That’s what’s been driving me crazy. I can’t figure out what I feel.”

Yeosang reached out, placing a comforting hand on Wooyoung’s arm. “It’s okay to be confused,” he reassured, his voice gentle. “Feelings are complicated, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. But what does your uncertainty got to do with why you kissed me? I definitely need an explanation for that. Especially for a kiss like… that.”

Playful panic flashed across Wooyoung’s face as he grinned uncomfortably. “Well you see uhm… I had a theory going around in the back of my mind and I had to put it to practice.”

Yeosang raised a brow.

“You see, I thought kissing you might clear up my head about these so called ‘feelings’ I might have or feel or whatever, so I wanted to kiss you to see if it was any different than with him or if it was the same and—”

Yeosang’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at Wooyoung’s words. “And?” he asked, his voice shallow.

Wooyoung hesitated. “It didn’t. It didn’t feel the same as it does with San.”

Yeosang’s heart clenched, a surge of conflicting emotions flooding through him. He wanted to be angry, to lash out at Wooyoung for hurting him and playing with him. But beneath the pain, there was understanding, a recognition of the turmoil that Wooyoung was going through.

“I see,” Yeosang murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him, Yeosang wrapped his arms around Wooyoung in a tight embrace, seeking solace in his warmth. He buried his face in Wooyoung’s chest, allowing himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that Wooyoung kissed him in the exact same way he kissed San, and the fact that San was probably deep inside him in such a moment…

“You’re an asshole,” Yeosang muttered, his voice muffled against Wooyoung’s shirt.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, his arm instinctively wrapping around his neck while he pet his head with the other. “I know,” he replied, “I’m sorry, Yeosang. I never meant to hurt you. I was just fucking impulsive.”

Yeosang pulled back slightly, meeting Wooyoung’s gaze with a small smile. “I know,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “I know you didn't mean to.”

They shared a moment of understanding, the weight of their shared experiences hanging between them. And then, unexpectedly, they both burst into laughter, the tension melting away like snow in the sun.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Yeosang said, his laughter echoing through the room. Oh the taste of masking.

Wooyoung nodded, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Completely ridiculous,” he agreed, his laughter mingling with Yeosang’s.

Yeosang’s laughter faded into a gentle smile as he looked at Wooyoung, his eyes filled with sincerity and understanding. “You know, Wooyoung,” he began softly, “I think it’s time for you to explore your feelings for San. You can’t keep going on kissing randoms to find out if they make you feel the same as he does.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, his gaze meeting Yeosang’s with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “But what about us? I mean you and I— fuck, you know. Your feelings. For me.” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Yeosang reached out, gently placing a hand on Wooyoung’s arm. "I care about you, Wooyoung,” he said earnestly, “but I also know that I can never be enough for you. And if exploring your feelings for San is what it takes for you to find happiness, then I want to help you.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in disbelief, his heart swelling with emotion at Yeosang’s selfless offer. “Yeosang, I can’t ask that of you,” he protested, his voice trembling with emotion.

Yeosang shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. “You're not asking, Wooyoung,” he insisted, “I’m offering. I would do anything to see you happy, even if it means giving up my own feelings.”

Tears welled up in Wooyoung’s eyes as he looked at Yeosang, overwhelmed by his friend’s unwavering support and love. “Thank you, Yeosang,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Yeosang looked at Wooyoung with a determined expression. “So, how do we move forward from here? I mean, this was pretty awkward” he asked awkwardly.

Wooyoung took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. “I think we need to own up to our mistakes,” he said slowly, “but I can’t do that yet. Not until I have a relationship with San. I mean, besides my possible feelings, I will have to say something to the ones curious about my private life in the media. I can’t just randomly go public with a statement out of the blue.”

“Then the two of you should appear in public together. Again. But this time, in a clear setting, all planned out and not just something random.”

“Anything in mind?”

Yeosang nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. “What about Mingi’s party?” he suggested, “San and his cousin will be there, and it’s bound to be packed with people. Maybe that’s the perfect opportunity for you to go public.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up with excitement at the idea. “You’re right,” he agreed eagerly, “that could be the perfect place to make a statement. Whether it’s about being an omega, or dating San, or even not dating him at all. It all depends on how the night goes.”

Yeosang agreed with a weak smile.

An hour later, Wooyoung pitched the idea to Hongjoong, Yunho, and Dr. Park Seonghwa over a video call. After a lengthy discussion, they all agreed that it was a risky but potentially effective plan.

“We’ll go undercover and infiltrate the university party of Song Mingi,” Hongjoong concluded the plan, “Dr. Park will search for the party drugs, Yunho will keep Wooyoung safe and I will keep an eye out for any potential rumour starters. The kick-off is ours.”

"So, what happened after that?" Mingi asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he effortlessly sunk the basketball through the hoop, scoring three points with a flick of his wrist.

San's smirk widened as he wiped away the sweat from his forehead. "Are you naive or do you just look down on me?" he teased, snatching the ball from Mingi's hand and attempting the same shot.

"Neither, I'm just curious."

The ball missed its mark, clanging loudly against the concrete, prompting a chuckle from Mingi.

"Curiosity killed the cat," San quipped, but Mingi was undeterred, already making a dash for the basketball.

"You can't just leave me hanging like that."

"I totally can," San laughed, taking a sip of water as he leaned against the basketball hoop. "Why would I elaborate on my... memorable night?"

Mingi totally threw the ball into the wrong direction hearing the phrase San used.

"Memorable night?" he repeated, unable to contain his amusement, his laughter echoing across the court. "You could've just said 'one night stand'."

San glanced up at him from behind his hand, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes. "Was it?" he questioned with uncertainty in his voice.

Mingi turned to face him, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Was it???" he echoed, teasingly drawing out the suspense.

San flopped onto the ground, defeated by Mingi's interrogation. "I have no idea. He's such a difficult person," he confessed, his frustration evident. But Mingi wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"You have yet to tell me who it is. They must be so wonderful if they made our San get lucky," he joked, earning himself a wet and sweaty towel to get thrown into his face.

"I have no idea why I'm friends with you," San quipped.

"Because you enjoy my raw and sexy pheromones," Mingi winked, hamming up the charm, but the only response he recieved was San gagging and pretending to throw up. It definitely stole the show.

"First, we're both alphas which makes you releasing your pheromones around me rude and disgusting," San stood up, dusting off his pants. "Second, I swear to god your face will taste my fist rather sooner than later if you continue with this bullshit."

Mingi pouted, but before he could retort, an idea struck him. "When did you become so mean?" he gasped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Oh! I know! Getting your dick wet made you feel like somebody!"

San's reaction was swift and decisive as he launched at Mingi, his fist connecting with Mingi's gut with a resounding thud.

Mingi doubled over in agony, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he crumpled to the floor, his hands clutching his stomach. The force of San's blow had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air and writhing in pain.

Each breath felt like a dagger stabbing into his gut, and he could feel the dull ache spreading throughout his entire body. He struggled to regain his composure, his mind reeling from the shock of the sudden attack. Through gritted teeth, Mingi cursed under his breath, his eyes burning with a mixture of pain and fury as he glared up at San with a menacing grin.

"Ya' wanna fight country boy?"

"Ya' wanna fight city boy?" San returned his grin with blazing eyes.

As Mingi pushed himself up from the ground, his muscles tensed with determination, which crackled between him and San like electricity in the air.

"You bet I do," he growled defiantly, his voice dripping with playful determination.

San mirrored Mingi's stance. With a sudden burst of energy, Mingi lunged forward, his fists flying towards San with precision and power. But San was quick to react, swiftly moving to the side, causing Mingi to stumble forward.

Before the fight could escalate any further, a crisp clap sounded from the side of the field, cutting through the intensity of the moment. Mingi's chest heaved up and down from the frustration of San changing into a different person than who he was when they met, while the other raised an eyebrow seeing who the source of the sound was. His eyes thinned into a smile when he recognised the person.

"Jongho!" San exclaimed, his face lighting up as he lunged forward to envelop the newcomer in a hug.

"Can't believe the two of you are fighting like cocks over a worm" he said snarkily, scrunching his nose and pushing the sweaty San away, who ignored his statement and looked the boy up and down.

"When did you arrive? Why didn't you text me? Or call me? You have no idea how nervous I was! How was the train? Where are your stuff? How did you find me?"

Jongho couldn't help but curse internally upon being bombed with all those uncecesarry questions, not to mention the decibels San uttered those sentences with. He strolled onto the court, his expression as stern as ever as he observed the scene before him.

"What's with the primal display, gentlemen?" He remarked dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

San shrugged, attempting to downplay the situation. "Just a little disagreement over semantics," he replied casually, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Mingi winced, his frustration mounting as he nursed his sore stomach. "More like him spitting bullshit to me about his steamy night, that our friend here refuses to elaborate on," he interjected, shooting San a pointed look.

Jongho arched an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "Ah," he remarked dryly.

San flushed with embarrassment, but he maintained his composure. "It's nothing you should worry about. Just some unnecessary drama," he muttered, attempting to brush off the topic.

Mingi rolled his eyes, unable to contain his frustration. "When you showed up with glistening eyes, wanting to tell me all about it first thing in the morning it didn't seem like unnecessary drama," he quipped, his sarcasm cutting through the tension.

Jongho's curiosity was piqued, and he wasted no time in pressing San for answers. "Who did you sleep with? I'm so going to tell your mom."

San mentally face-palmed so hard he could envision a nosebleed overcoming him.

He recoiled slightly, caught off guard by Jongho's directness. "Why are you being a snitch? Don't we share the same blood?" he retorted, attempting to deflect the question.

"Wait, this is your cousin you told me about?" Mingi raised a brow and walked over to Jongho with an extended hand. "Should'a at least had introduced us. I'm Song Mingi, San's pal."

"Pal..." Jongho repeated the phrase Mingi used, tasting the unfamiliar letters on his tongue, looking the red-head up and down. The three letter word tasted like poverty at the back of his throat.

"Pal my ass" San hissed, raising his middle finger towards Mingi. "He's just an asshole priving into my private life."

"You were the one who started talking about it! I really don't get why you're being a little bitch right now!" Mingi shot back, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Call me a little bitch again and I'll make you into one!" San threatened, his eyes flashing with anger.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Jongho, exasperated by their childish bickering, stepped in to diffuse the situation. Massaging his temple, he cleared his throat.

"Will you stop behaving like children?" Jongho scolded, his tone edged with impatience. "You're both being totally unreasonable. Mingi, accept that San changed his mind. San, accept that Mingi just can't help his curiosity." The two friends sighed in unison; their frustration palpable. "Unnecessary drama seems to be a recurring theme with you two," Jongho retorted, remembering things San told him about this friend of his before, his tone edged with a hint of impatience.

Mingi glared at him and Jongho stood his ground. "What do you know?"

"Enough to bully you," he shot back, his words sharp.

San interjected with a sigh. "Alright, alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said, shooting Jongho a warning glance.

"The two of you started it," Jongho muttered under his breath.

"But you joined in."

"Runs in the family" Mingi muttered, earning a glance from the both of them.

"Shut the fuck up for real, Mingi," San snapped, his frustration boiling over.

Mingi, deciding to let the matter rest for the time being, picked up the basketball, holding it between his arm and his waist. "Ok, ok, I will," he conceded, his tone begrudging. "Just tell me something first."

San, intrigued by Mingi's sudden change in demeanour, raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

Mingi's expression softened slightly as he spoke.

"Why did you bring up the topic if you were gonna become this defensive about it?" he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory. "I mean, it was you who wanted to elaborate, and when you caught my attention and I asked about it, you turned into a hedgehog and came for my neck."

San's expression faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. Mingi's question struck a nerve, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him. He was reasonable. When San texted him in the morning, around 5am he was all smiles, not being able to wait a single second to see his best friend to tell him about the night he spent with Wooyooung, but now he found himself regretting it.

It was a curiousity after all, why he was at the opening when he's an outsider. To answer the question, he made an appointment with Seonghwa and asked him for a favor. But nowhere did he expect it to go so well. He just wanted to see Wooyoung, he didn't even have a plan in mind, really, he just wanted to see that person again, and then everything kind of just happened by itself. His confession, their chemistry and tension... But as he was telling Mingi he got a bad feeling.

When he mentioned Mingi to Wooyoung in the hotel, something flashed in his eyes, and it made San feel like there was something he didn't know – probabbly that the two knew each other. Which was trouble. Wooyoung was overly conscious of being an omega, and since Mingi never talked about Wooyoung they probabbly weren't that close, so outing Wooyoung would be... just a big no. So he had to stop himself from elaborating on the topic for Wooyoung's sake. He didn't want to be disrespectful. But as Mingi got curious he crossed the line of San's patience, and then the rest is history.

"I got overwhelmed," San admitted quietly, his voice barely audible, and something flashed in Jongho's eyes. He had never seen San like this before—vulnerable, unsure, and distant. Ever since they know each other, which was since forever, San was always an open person, a ray of sunlight, everyone liked him in their hometown and he liked everyone in return. He was an open book, easy to read by everyone, especially by Jongho who knew him better than anyone. But now? He almost doesn't recognise him. Ever since he moved away from home for Univeristy, he seemed to have changed. It was a stark departure from the confident and cheerful person he had always known.

Mingi, sensing the weight of San's words, nodded understandingly. "Fine. Let's leave it at that," he replied, his tone softening with empathy.

"Thanks," San muttered, a hint of gratitude lacing his words as he glanced at his friend.

Jongho scanned the two for a few minutes as they stood in silence, then finally voiced his annyoance. "Hey, you Song Mingi."

Mingi's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sup?"

"Control your pheromones, please," Jongho continued, his expression one of distaste. "It's utterly unpleasant to be enveloped by them, especially in a public place. You make a fool of yourself by acting like a dog, trying to mark your territory."

Mingi's reaction was immediate. With a snap, he hurled the basketball to the ground, his frustration evident as he sped towards Jongho. The sudden movement caught both San and Jongho off guard, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement.

"San, tell me what the fuck is the problem of your cousin!" Mingi demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation.

San, caught off guard by Mingi's outburst, attempted to stand between the two. "He's just... just let it slide, Mingi," he replied, a note of resignation in his voice. "He's always been like that. Let's not waste our energy on it. Rather worry about doing what he says, it really is annyoing!" San said, then they all laughed at how flustered Mingi got when the info sank in to his brain.

Their tension dissipated as quickly as it had come, replaced by laughter. "Let's not fight and just play instead," San suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The trio spent the next two hours lost in the thrill of the game, their earlier discord forgotten as they bonded over their shared love of basketball. Exhausted and exhilarated, they collapsed onto the grass of the field, their bodies spent but their spirits lifted.

"I'm fucking spent" Mingi cursed as he slumpt onto the ground.

"Same" San nodded, sipping up half of his remaning water, and offering the rest to Jongho who refused to take it. Was never a fan of sharing. "You never answered how you found me."

"Your mom dowloaded a tracker on your phone. I just followed it."

"She did what?!" San sat up, shocked, but then laid back when realization hit him. It was his mother after all. Of course she did it. Of course she was worried. This was so stupid.

As they lay there catching their breath, the sound of commotion from nearby caught their attention. Curiosity piqued, they dragged themselves to their feet and followed the noise, Jongho deftly snatching a paper from someone's hand as they passed by.

They all gathered around as Jongho unfolded the paper, revealing a copy of a newspaper purposefully made to look eye catching, with vibrant photos and large letters making it obvious it was about a scandal involving a young man from a rich family.

It dawned on them in a second who was on the pictures.

Mingi's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the face, his expression turning pale. San, usually the epitome of confidence, seemed visibly shaken, his knees giving out as he nearly collapsed in disbelief. Jongho, though surprised by the scandalous content, remained composed, his mind already racing with questions as he side eyed his cousin.

As they read the smaller letter of the article, Mingi's shock turned into a mixture of disbelief and concern, his thoughts racing as he tried to make sense of the situation. San's reaction only fuelled Jongho's curiosity, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this scandal than met the eye. Seeing Mingi's reaction, San's suspicions were confirmed, and he couldn't help but wonder about the connection between his friend and the person he cared about.

The corridors and halls were littered by that disasterous propaganda. The trio set off, their footsteps echoing against the walls as they navigated the bustling crowds of students. San seemed unusually tense, his jaw clenched as he scanned the faces around them, but in actuality, his vision was going red by the second. He clicked away on his phone as subtly as possible and kept checking it to see if he got any messages.

Jongho, on the other end, kept a cool head. He was unfamiliar with the building, but it wasn't hard to navigate trough it and just pick up all of those scandalous posters on their way. He knew that rumors could be dangerous, capable of destroying reputations and friendships alike. But he also knew that the truth was often hidden beneath layers of deceit and half-truths, and that seemed to be exactly the case, it was written all over San. For now, he didn't want to ask. He wanted to see what happens first. Also, he shurgged off the identity of the person on the picture, but based on the other two's reactions, they knew perfectly well who he was. He smirked.

As they reached the heart of the commotion, Jongho's keen eyes caught sight of a suspicious figure lurking amidst the people. Without hesitation, he approached.

"What do you know about this?" He demanded, his voice sharp and commanding as he showed the man the poster in his hand.

The figure, taken aback by Jongho's sudden appearance, faltered for a moment before regaining their composure. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, tone defensive.

But Jongho wasn't fooled. He could see the guilt written plain as day on his face, the flicker of fear in his eyes betraying his true intentions. With a swift motion, he snatched another paper from his grasp, his eyes scanning the contents with determination.

It was identical to the one he held. This person was roaming around uni passing that shit to the students and stitching it onto all of the boards and open areas he could find.

San grabbed him by the collar without a word to be said and slammed him against the wall.

"You bastard! Who the fuck ordered you to do this?!" He screamed into the guy's face, the commotion making people turn in their direction. Mingi stared them down and they ran into all directions like rats from the intense gaze.

The man squirmed under San's grasp, his eyes darting around frantically as he searched for an escape route. But San's grip was like a vice, unyielding and firm as he held the man in place, muscles tensing.

"I-I really don't know what you're talking about!" the man stammered, his voice trembling with fear.

San's eyes blazed with fury, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to control his temper. "Don't play dumb with me," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Who sent you here? Who's behind all of this? You couldn't have just woken up with them magically in your bag and then decided to pass it around for the fun of it!"

The man hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between San and Jongho as he weighed his options. Even tough San was physically about to crush him with his weight, the man seemed to fear Jongho more, and started to shake his head as if he was in a trance, refusing to talk.

San signalled Mingi towards the guy, and the red-head understood instantly. He took all the posters from his hand, and his phone from his pocket. The guy thrased around like crazy to get it back, but was thrown agaisnt the wall again, coughing harshly as his lungs hit the stone.

"You know you are commiting a crime?!" San screamed in his face, veins popping on his forehead. He threw the guy to the side who fell.

He was totally loosing his mind. As he clenched his fists, ready to unleash his pent-up frustration on the guy, his gaze darted down the corridor, catching sight of a familiar face with a panicked expression, also clutching a bunch of posters.

Yeosang.

San's shock jolted him back to reality, but before he could react, Yeosang vanished into the crowd. With a surge of adrenaline, San took a step forward, intending to pursue him, when a stern voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What's going on here?" It was the university's security guard, his brow furrowed in confusion as he approached the scene.

San snapped his head back, his expression still clouded with anger as he faced the guard. "This guy was spreading false rumors about a student," he explained through gritted teeth, his voice laced with fury. "We caught him in the act."

The guard's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his demeanor growing more serious by the second. "I see," he said, his tone grave. "I'll take it from here. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

With that, the guard escorted the culprit away, leaving the trio alone in the hallway. The tension slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

"Well, that was... eventful," Jongho remarked, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he glanced at the other two, who seemed shell-shocked.

San felt a vein in his temple pulsating with irritation at Jongho's nonchalant tone. He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process everything that had just transpired. "Yeah, no kidding," he muttered wearily, his voice heavy with fatigue.

Mingi nodded in agreement, his expression solemn as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. "I can't believe someone would stoop so low," he said, his voice filled with disgust.

Jongho crumpled the poster in his hand, his lips curling into a smirk unseen by the two.

"Yeah... I wonder who would do something like that."