implausible - woosan

chapter thirty nine

i wanted to leave him
i needed a reason
x marks the spot where we fell apart

san wooyoung

06.09.17

wooyoung tries not to think about the fact he's a liar. a traitor. a cheating, weak, worst boyfriend in the world. he also tries not to think about the fact he doesn't regret a thing. not for a second.

he lives for moments that they stole on begged and borrowed time.

he definitely doesn't think about san, and his slender hands, his soft mouth, the perfect thick length of him. not about how it feels to have san inside him, against him, on top of him.

no, wooyoung's definitely not thinking about that at all.

instead, he focuses on the back to school dance, and what he's going to wear to it. he's relying on the esteemed opinions of his friends, and doing his best to imagine their descriptions.

"not slutty enough." yeosang is saying, after he steps out in the next piece.

oh, if only you knew how much of a slut i've been. he thinks with a sigh, twirling a little. with all the not thinking he's been doing about san, wooyoung really just wants his opinion. secretly, he's dressing for him.

"what about the ribbony look we talked about?" mingi suggests, referring to the café conversation that now seems worlds away. "to make him look all prince-like but like, still slutty."

he considers this, trying to picture what that entails. drawing on memories of images his brain knows, wooyoung can imagine from the help of things he's seen before. but those memories are years away, and he never did spend much time browsing suits or billowy dress shirts.

"whatever you guys think is best," he says. admittedly, he's less excited than he had been, given the fact his boyfriend doesn't want to go with him and he can't go with who he really wants to.

"you are severely lacking in enthusiasm." yeosang comments, reading him as well as he ever has. "what changed?"

sighing again, wooyoung sits down, loosening the bowtie adorning his collar. "no one to go with." he mutters, glum. "hongjoong said he doesn't want to come."

there's a moment of surprised silence, his friends probably exchanging glances.

"some soulmate he is," mingi muses, handing wooyoung a new pile of folded clothes. the material is gloriously soft, probably silk, water in his hands when he takes it. "weird."

scoffing in agreement, wooyoung runs his fingers down the seams of the material, feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger. following the outlines, he discovers a break in the design, an opening at what he assumes is the back. it's held together the ribbons, with metal circular rings in the middle.

"i like this one," he decides, frowning a little when be tries to find where the thing closes. "wait, is there only one button at the front?"

"yeah," mingi says, a smile evident in his words. "it's certainly very showy. but i think i saw a mesh top in your closet you can wear underneath that will compliment it nicely."