soft - woosan

chapter 14

wooyoung san

san made straight for the nearest bathroom, minho's callous retorts weighing down on him like bricks. he was affected more than he would have thought, but those words hit a little too close to home and san had to believe they were not entirely wrong.

his parents didn't want to deal with their problem son. he was too much for them to handle.

his breath began to quicken as a rebellious tear escaped his eye, trickling down his cheek, and then another.

they don't want you.

jongun probably wishes the woman he married didn't have a son. a son like me.

san leaned over the basin, breathing hard as he fought back more tears, shoulders shaking with the effort not to let himself go. he couldn't breathe; and each struggle for air only brought on more tears streaming down his face.

looking at himself in the mirror, he hated what he saw. hated who looked back at him.

it's not my fault.

"san?"

the hesitant familiar voice of wooyoung scared him shitless, and he frantically wiped his face, trying to blink away evidence of tears.

a comforting hand found his shoulder, and although its touch caused san to flinch away, he appreciated the other's actions.

it never occured to him that what had totally panicked him when wooyoung touched him was exactly what startles virgins on being touched for the first time by the person they desire: he stirred nerves in them they never knew existed and that produce far more disturbing pleasures than they are used to on their own.

for someone known to love spotting defects in everyone else, san derived a certain satisfaction from concealing his feelings for him behind his usual indifference, hostility, or spite for anyone in a position to outshine him at home.

wooyoung was too perfect, and san almost hated that it was becoming increasingly difficult to spot faults in the other.

he followed me. san thought bewhilderedly, avoiding the searching eyes of the latter.

"...are you okay?"

san didn't reply. when someone is alone, crying in an empty bathroom, are they usually fine?

drawing his arms around himself, he looked again into the mirror, reddened eyes staring back at his quivering lips and distraught features.

he looked like half the wreck he felt.

another face joined his in the dirty glass, not saying anything this time. just looking. looking at him with such genuine worry, san could hardly stand to look at him.

"don't try to act like you care about me," san choked out softly, his heart and head already in too much of a confused spin.

"i'm not acting." wooyoung replied, placing his hands gently on san's shoulders and turning him away from the mirror so that he faced him.

"whatever it is i feel, i know that i do care. i can tell you that much."

more hot tears rolled down san's cheeks, dripping onto his neck. "no one's ever really cared about me before."

wooyoung drew him against his chest, wrapping his arms around the other boy tightly, rubbing his back in soft rhythmic circles. "that's not true."

"it is." san sobbed into his shoulder, burying his face into the others neck and collapsing defeatedly into his arms.