Yesteryear

Going Home

Wooyoung didn't move even a centimetre away from San's side. Walking proved difficult, but the other man made do by pulling Wooyoung close into his arm. His nose was buried in Wooyoung's hair, breathing in his scent and his warmth as they shuffled through the corridor. Neither of them minded the curious gazes of the other patients and visitors. Yongguk was ahead of them, making sure they ran into no other people and cleared their way towards the exit of the hospital.

"I was so worried, so so worried. So many years passed before I finally arrived. When Yongguk said you were in the hospital, my stomach dropped."

San didn't know. San hadn't seen what Wooyoung had seen, hadn't felt death's embrace in this version of his life. To him, death had been a threat, but never a reason to fear. He had avoided it because of Wooyoung's intervention. Hopefully, he would never have to feel its frigid breath on his neck again.

Neither of them could believe it worked. That San was actually here.

Wooyoung was all over the place. There was so much to say and do, but he couldn't articulate his thoughts. Like a vortex of chaos, the emotions inside his stomach swirled around. Euphoria mixed with relief, mixed with anxiety, mixed with overwhelming adoration for the man at his side.

Nothing could part them. Nothing.

Wooyoung hadn't noticed he was crying until San searched his face for an answer. He cooed at Wooyoung, a thumb swiping over his cheek to clear them of tears.

"I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm here now." Warm lips pressed a shaky kiss to Wooyoung's temple. Wooyoung sacked further into him. He couldn't hold himself up on his legs and to bystanders; it must have looked as if he was about to faint. San dragged him along more than they wandered together.

They emerged out into the warm air of spring, but Wooyoung didn't halt to breathe in the fresh air. San used a woody cologne, smelling wonderfully of oaks and citrus, and Wooyoung couldn't stop breathing in his scent that was so new and so San at the same time.

Yongguk led them over to his car. He glanced at them from time to time, his gaze worried and soft as he watched Wooyoung pawing at San to be impossibly closer to him. For not knowing San, the man could easily recognise their attachment to each other. Their hearts burnt brightly when around each other, and the gloomy clouds that had followed Wooyoung around since the first news of San's death finally lifted to make space for a rush of colours.

San and Wooyoung sat in the back while Yongguk picked up his medicines and drove them to Wooyoung's home. He knew where Wooyoung lived, so he could just operate in silence while the two men clutched at each other on the backseat as if they were drowning.

Wooyoung's hands had yet to stop shaking as he reached for San's face.

"I thought you wouldn't make it; that fate would never allow the two of us to be together." He hiccoughed around a sob, fresh tears spilling. San kept wiping them for him with his tender touch.

"I took good care that nothing else would happen. I was worried you wouldn't be here to wait for me either after I had to let you go with that wound."

That had been over a hundred years ago. San remembered it with the same agony as if it had been yesterday.

Wooyoung knew how cruel he had been to leave San, but he had no choice with his injury. He knew the pain of seeing his loved one shot right in front of him all too well.

"He sacrificed a lot for you. Not that the injury would have killed him from how medicine works these days, but he was all over the place as he went into a time of war and death," Yongguk said without turning his head. His bitter voice carried a distinct warning, telling San just how protective of Wooyoung Yongguk was.