- [COMPLETED]
jung wooyoung is a struggling college student who suddenly finds himself taking up this 'babysitting' job with a hefty amount of cash as payment.
only...this isn't any ordinary babysitting job. and the 'baby' in question is choi san...
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《 if you could only see what i see when i look at you 》
The ride to San's house is a silent one, and for once Wooyoung doesn't want it. Yet, he doesn't utter a single word as the minutes pass by, not knowing what else to say to San who's still holding him close, head pressed against his.
Once Mr Kim parks in front of the house, San unbuckles both their seatbelts and gently leads Wooyoung out of the car, arms snug around his waist. The younger doesn't reject his touch, but he doesn't relax into it either, keeping quiet until San ushers him away from the frigid winter air and into the more cozy indoors.
"I'm gonna go turn on the electric fireplace," San begins with a slight clear of the throat, his voice a remnant of the tears he's shed. He lets Wooyoung go and searches frantically for the remote, only to stop in his tracks and stare at the younger through widened eyes. "Or -- or maybe we can turn the heater on in my room? Or your room. That's fine too." He walks up to Wooyoung, the remote squeezed in his hand. "Any suggestion's fine."
Wooyoung detests how anxious and extra careful San's being around him, beating himself up for it because it's none other than his fault. He's the one who decided that acting overdramatic and stupidly emotional was worth messing up a night that was supposed to end well. It's New Year's Eve, for crying out loud, and yet, he just feels miserable.
He guesses he must've kept his mouth closed for too long, because San shifts nearer and cautiously runs his fingers down his hair, worry embedded in his steady stare. It's like second nature how Wooyoung leans in, comforted by how soft and safe the older's hands are.
"...We have about two hours before the year ends. We can huddle up in bed and watch a movie or something," San suggests with a small smile.
When Wooyoung looks at him, all he can see is him screaming at the man and the wretched, crestfallen look in his eyes. It makes Wooyoung feel even worse about himself.
"Or we can talk. About whatever," San continues. His smile hasn't dropped, but there's a strained hilt in his tone, one which forces them to acknowledge the unspoken elephant in the room. "Enjoy each other's company."
It kind of hurts how bad San's trying to act as if everything is back to normal, worsening Wooyoung's guilt. The way he's fussing over Wooyoung, holding him close as if he's done nothing wrong drives the younger nuts, because he's well aware he doesn't deserve it.
He just keeps fucking things up.
Wooyoung doesn't speak up when San pulls the tuxedo down his arms, his warm fingers burning into his skin as he softly tugs off the black bowtie as well. He avoids the older's stare throughout, the intimacy prevalent in San's touches forcing his breath out of him.
