implausible - woosan

chapter forty six

and baby, for you, i would fall from grace
just to touch your face
if you walk away
i'd beg you on my knees to stay

wooyoung san

25.09.17

san's evening is ultimately ruined when park junhee shows up at his door with a lackadaisical wave, acting like he's been invited.

he has half a mind to slam the door in his face, and he would have, except for the fact junhee slinks his way in before san is able to.

"get the fuck out of my apartment." san says flatly, trying to appear stoic.

part of him wishes he'd changed addresses over the years, but he's admittedly fond of his housemates. it's just unfortunate that junhee still knows where he lives.

"hello to you to!" junhee's words are slurred, voice singsong. it makes san frown, crossing his arms defensively.

he doesn't need to ask if the man is drunk, because it's rather obvious he is, and it takes everything in san not to give in to his nerves. tense, he steps forward, glaring.

"was i unclear? out." and after all the progress san's made, there's still a wobble in his voice. an uncertainty that gives him away.

"nah, 'm horny," junhee replies, smirking at san. the suggestion sends alarms down san's spine, setting every nerve in his body to fight or flight.

"that has nothing to do with me," and san's stepping back, arms tightening, sweat beginning to bead with the effort it takes not to break down. "so leave."

"you're so boring, sannie." junhee sighs dramatically, quirking an eyebrow. "you know, adam and eve were soulmates." he begins a tangent, throwing san off. "and that bastard snake, in love with eve, was damned for it."

"what the fuck are you talking about?" irritation prevails as san mentally recalls his taekwondo training, imagining the satisfaction of beating junhee black and blue.

"who do you think you are in that story, san?" he smiles thinly, teeth showing, as if he knows something san doesn't.

honestly, san's always seen himself as the snake, biblically speaking. painted out to be the villain, a sin, for not obeying fate, for love. but he's not about to endorse junhee's twisted game, to encourage his antics.

"i don't think you're even in his story. perhaps a footnote."

"who?" san asks, betraying himself by continuing the conversation, by being enticed.

"pretty blonde you were staring at, back at the café." he muses, something dangerous dancing over his features. "he doesn't care about you, sannie. no one does! no one but me."

once, those words may have hurt more. but instead they have san clenching his jaw, his fists balling. because there's seonghwa, there's yeri, there's wooyoung, hell, there's even kibum.

and he's about to retaliate, perhaps regrettably, but san's phone rings, interrupting.

both there heads turn to the dresser where it lays vibrating, and junhee smirks childishly, quickly darting for the device.