implausible - woosan

chapter forty five

say your name
when our tongues are tied
getting shivers all down my spine
we're in bed
we're embedded in my mind

san wooyoung

25.09.17

a few days have passed since wooyoung accidentally revealed himself to san as a part-time alcoholic.

consequently, he's been avoiding him, especially since he remembers (quite vividly) telling san that he loves him. which... is supposed to be a secret.

not even something he's allowed himself to admit to himself. but really, as oscar wilde said, it is no less than a denial of the soul. to regret one's own experiences is to arrest one's own development. to deny one's own experiences it to put a lie into the lips of one's own life. and wooyoung doesn't regret loving san, not really.

but, not dissimilarly to wilde, society will send wooyoung to prison. a societal prison, if you will, if wooyoung admits he'd rather be with someone he's not fated for.

so perhaps that's why wooyoung agrees to go to hongjoong's place. why he doesn't let himself commit. to san. to not loving his soulmate.

and the whole time, since he got here, wooyoung knows what hongjoong wants. where he expects this night to go. his boyfriend is not one for smalltalk, not when his mind is set on something.

there's no questions, no chatting, no intimacy. of course, this is reality. all of wooyoung's other sexual experience derives from san, and that boy is just too good to be true.

he kind of feels like he's experiencing it all from a third perspective, so far removed from himself it's not even happening to him. like someone else is hongjoong's soulmate, someone else is sitting on his bed.

but if this is what it's going to take to stamp out hongjoong's insecurities, to cement their relationship, wooyoung will do it. he doesn't have much choice. that's why another him is doing it, and the real wooyoung is somewhere in the back of his own mind, watching, silently screaming to be let out.

he tries to dissociate less, but when hongjoong's kissing him, it's hard to pretend. to respond.

not when he doesn't feel anything. so his mind drifts, and his imagination replaces hongjoong with san. removed enough to live within a fantasy.

san, who kisses him like no one ever has or will, who's touch burns. who's hands are as gentle as they are rough, hot and firm on his body.

hongjoong's hands are are cold on his skin when he removes wooyoung's shirt, bringing him back to reality for a moment. he shivers, fighting down the nausea. maybe if those hands were on his neck, it'd be better. but he doesn't feel able to communicate what he wants, not even sure if hongjoong will listen.

on the other hand, san understands him. their bodies speak the same language. from everything he's read, from all he knows, san is the one who should really be his soulmate. selfishly, wooyoung lets himself imagine a world in which that's true.

a world in which he can say i love you to san as easily as he breathes, as easily as it is to be with him. in which he belongs to san, where he's all his.

kissing as a concept is fine. hongjoong's not bad, if wooyoung knows anything about how it's meant to be. it's just, the tongue in his mouth feels foreign. an unwelcome invader.