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“Shit!” San turned fast at the loud curse following a thud, just to find his best friend hopping up and down on one foot, clutching the other with a pinched face. “Goddamn it that hurt,” Mingi whined, sitting down on the floor and cradling the gray sock covered, now injured foot and eyeing the fallen box with heavy bitterness. “What the fuck did you pack?” “It’s my books,” San pouted, picking up the box and setting it on his bed to begin unpacking onto the shelf beside it. “You’re lucky I only brought some of them.” “I can’t believe you’d want to bring more books to uni,” Mingi scoffed, leaning back against his bed with a huff. “Aren’t you busy enough with assignments from your fifty classes?” “It’s only ten.” “Only ten,” Mingi scoffed. “Normal people take six. How are you gonna have any time to party?” “You know I don’t do that,” San grumbled, stacking his books perfectly on the shelf with a happy hum. He had learned his first year that it was better to start the semester with some extra space on the shelf because he always found several more to add to it before he could take them back home. “University is for studying, not drinking until you can barely make it to morning classes.” “God you’re such a nerd,” Mingi whined. “Come on, Sannie. You promised you’d at least try. It’s your senior year.” “I did try!” He argued. “How are you just gonna forget the worst night of my life like that? I almost died!” “Oh my god if you’re talking about the Halloween party last year–“ “Of course I am! It was on fire, Mingi!” “A controlled burn,” he waved his hand. San was prepared to argue, but a knock on their door made him pause to look at the open doorway. “Sorry to interrupt,” a tall man smiled at them, a clipboard in his hands. “Just letting everyone know we’re having a hall meeting in twenty. Faculty wants to go over some housekeeping rules and the inspection schedule.” “Oh, thanks,” San smiled politely, kicking Mingi a little when he clicked his tongue and grumbled something along the lines of ‘uptight bitches.’ “Yeah yeah,” Mingi sighed, pulling out his phone to tap away rather than giving the stranger his attention. “Cool man. Free food?” “Chips and cookies,” the man hummed, an amused look in his eye as he looked at Mingi. “Good luck unpacking.” With that, he was off, leaving San to finish unpacking his last box and making his bed while Mingi apparently decided to take a break and spend the next twenty minutes tapping away on his phone. By the time San was pleased, it was time to head down. The lobby on the downstairs floor of their dorm was pretty packed, several people strewn across the few couches, most standing and looking impatient, and few filtering in behind San and Mingi. It couldn’t have been everyone in the building, but it was still a pretty good sized crowd. Mingi spent most of the meeting grumbling about how all the cookies had been gone by the time they came down, leaving only some kind of chips that he claimed were no better than wood shavings. San tried to pay attention, writing down the inspection and drill schedules on the event flier that they had passed around at the start.  By the time they finished, it was nearing dinner time, and they decided to head back up to the room and grab their IDs then head to the cafeteria. “Come on, Mingi,” San sighed, standing in the door as Mingi took forever coming out of the bathroom. He knew the moment the man stepped out, he was likely to be followed with a wave of cologne and hair product odor. “They’re gonna be out of the good stuff!” “Well hello handsome.” San turned his head, eyes widening as they made contact with a stranger suddenly in front of him, tall and slender and damn beautiful. “Um, hi?” “Coming tonight?” The man smiled warmly, even though his aura was insanely intimidating. “Coming,” San repeated, frowning. “To?” “We’re having a party for the hall,” he hummed, pointing past San so that he turned his head to look. “Rooms 202 through 206. Everyone’s welcome, if you wanna bring anyone.” “Oh,” San breathed. “Oh, I don’t really–“ “Seonghwa?” Mingi’s shocked voice came from somewhere in the room, making the pretty man look past San, his eyes sparkling. “Mingi! I didn’t know you’d be here too!” “Yeah man,” he said with an audible grin, walking up and clasping a heavy hand on San’s shoulder. “I got stuck in the honor’s dorms last year remember?” “Oh yeah,” he nodded in remembrance. “Some mixup or something?” “Yeah. But I'm finally away from those losers this year. Well, except for Sannie here. I brought him with me.” “Hey,” he pouted. “Well I’m glad to hear it,” Seonghwa smiled. “And it’s good to meet you, San. I’ve heard a bit about you. Mingi mentioned last year his roommate wasn’t a fan of parties, right?” “Right,” San mumbled, shuffling his feet. “Well you should stop by anyway,” he offered. “We’ll have tons of food and drinks, and you could always make a few new friends. Not everyone there is as crazy as your roommate when he’s drunk.” “I’m fun,” Mingi shrugged. “But you’re wasting your time with this one. You’d have better luck getting Hongjoong to step away from pong for five minutes.” The joke clearly meant something between them, but San didn’t understand any of it. He just wanted to go eat and come back and sit in a quiet dorm tonight reading his new book and preparing for the upcoming semester. “Well if you get bored, come by,” Seonghwa gave up, smiling brightly one last time. “We’d love to have you, San.” “Thanks, Seonghwa. It was nice to meet you.” San let out a breath of relief as the man said his goodbyes and left after Mingi promised to see him later. “Cute, isn’t he?” Mingi smirked when San still stood waiting for him to pull his shoes on. “I guess,” San shrugged, even though the smell of the beautiful man’s cologne still hung in his nose, reminding him of the aura that left with him. “Don’t waste your time pining,” Mingi snorted teasingly. “He only has eyes for his boyfriend…usually. Trust me, I tried.” San frowned. “You tried to hit on someone in a relationship?” “I didn’t know,” he shrugged, standing at full height and grabbing his wallet. “But Hongjoong was quick to inform me.” San hummed, remembering the name from their conversation. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for all that.” “Yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I remember. Come on. Before all the good shit is gone.” *** San made a mistake. His first three years at University had been pretty much everything he expected. He came, worked hard, made good grades, and went home. The only surprise or twist was his third year roommate. When he met Mingi that first day of move in, San knew immediately that someone must have made a mistake, even without the man stating so. His mess had been everywhere when San arrived, and there wasn’t a single book or pen or notepad or flashcard in sight. Mingi wasn’t studious; he was a partier. San learned fast that the quiet room he had expected wasn’t going to be his reality. Still, Mingi had been respectful of their space for the most part. He rarely brought anyone over, and he typically cleaned up after himself if San asked him to. But he spent most nights out late, coming back in long after San had gone to sleep for the night. His afternoon classes meant he was still sleeping hard when San would wake up the following morning. Truthfully, they hardly saw each other. They simply coexisted in a relatively respectable roommate situation. They only bonded because Mingi ended up with the flu and strep at the same time right before winter break, and of course passed it on to San. They spent three weeks drinking soup, coughing, and gaming together. San also helped him keep up with his classes—their workloads all sent to them online. Since then, they had been good friends, even though they came from different worlds, even though San thought Mingi should study more and not miss class so much, and Mingi thought San should pull the stick out of his ass and loosen up. It hadn’t been a problem. But this was. San should have known better than to agree to move out of the honors dorms this year, but Mingi had begged him to. He hadn’t been allowed to return this year, and he didn’t want to dorm with anyone but San after an apparently rough first two years of roommates. And honestly, San wasn’t ready to part from him either. So here he was, sitting in his bed with the book he had been so excited to continue, but he couldn’t focus for a single second with the pounding music filling the silence. How was this even allowed? It was after ten at night, and this was a student dorm. Surely there were rules, curfews. Did no one care about sleeping? Would it be this way all year? It couldn’t be. This had to be a once a year thing, maybe twice, just for the start of the semester. It didn’t help his rising frustration. He let out an exasperated whine, tossing his book down and flopping back to glare up at the ceiling. Why did people even enjoy parties so much? It was just a bunch of sweat and cheap alcohol and shitty music and body odor. Maybe a little buzz was kinda fun, but anything after that and San was nauseous from getting the spins. And sleepy. Besides, nothing was worth the hangover the next morning.  Maybe it was how they forgot their bad grades and stupidity. He sighed at himself. It wasn’t the nicest line of thought. He knew a lot of them were trying their best. It wasn’t their fault that they struggled. But he was cranky. And come midnight, with his pillow over his head doing absolutely nothing to block out the noise, he was mad. Mad enough to throw on sweatpants and a t-shirt and shoes and throw open his door in search of his stupid roommate who had to have earplugs. The amount of people in the hall came as no surprise considering their loud conversations over the thumping music were what was keeping him awake. Couples made out, groups of three or four stood around, some vaping—which San was certain wasn’t allowed. He remembered the beautiful man, Seonghwa, telling him that the party was in five different rooms, so he walked in their direction, starting with the one closest to him. It was frustrating, his annoyance only growing as he tried to spot his roommate in the crowds. At least Mingi was tall and usually pretty easy to find, but San was tired and bitter. He should have stayed in the honors dorm and roomed with a stranger. He nearly gave up after three rooms. The first one had been packed with grinding bodies and shouting laughter, the second had a couple party games going on and tons of people crowded around shouting, but the third was the one that really almost sent him over the edge. “Idiots,” he grumbled to himself, trying to wipe off the drink that had been spilled all over him, grimacing more when something sticky kept glueing him to the floor. “Disgusting idiots.” “Well that’s not a very nice way to talk about your hosts.” San looked up at the nearby voice, shocked at the eyes that met his. “You’re,” he stammered, jaw nearly dropping. “You’re the guy from earlier. That told us about the dorm meeting.” “That’s me,” he nodded with a smile. “The name’s Yunho. Yours?” “San,” he answered out of habit, but he was stunned. “Aren’t you– how– shouldn’t you shut this down or something?” Yunho frowned, eyebrows pulling together. “Now why would I do that?” “Because you’re, I don’t know, some kind of faculty?” “I believe the term you’re looking for is resident advisor. And yes that’s me. Is there a problem?” San gaped, before gesturing around with wild hands. “What do you mean is there a problem? What is all of this to you? I can’t sleep! I can’t read! How am I supposed to get ready to start classes with this shit going on all night long?” Yunho’s lips pulled together, just before he let out a loud laugh. “Ah so you’re the honors student I heard about. Look, San, everyone’s just having a good time to start the school year. No big deal. And if you can’t sleep from the noise, maybe you should try earplugs.” “I don’t have any,” he grumbled, his irritation spiking. Did no one here care about the rules or their academics? “I came to see if my roommate has some.” “Oh Mingi?” He asked, something in his eyes lighting up a little. “He’s just inside playing with Hongjoong.” “Cool thanks,” he said flatly, walking past him. He would have taken more time to be kind and respectful to the man—especially if he was the RA for the hall—but he was extremely irritated with his clear inability to take his role seriously. Maybe he should complain to administration in the morning. He couldn’t see through the gathered crowd in the fourth room, and this time he knew better than to try to navigate through them. Instead, he followed the back of the crowd around them to avoid another sticky drink soaking his sweatpants, until finally, he caught sight of his roommate, a little hunched over a table as he aimed a ping pong ball for a set of cups across it. “Pissed yourself?” He startled at the voice suddenly beside him, turning his head to find the source. And his breath caught in his chest. “Ah don’t be embarrassed,” the man grinned, lips pulling sideways as his eyes sparked with amusement, nearly lost behind messy, soft and flowy dark brown bangs. “I’ve done it too. Can’t say I walked around after though. Good for you.” “Wha–“ San managed, still in awe before he was tensing as the stranger’s words registered. “No! What? I didn’t!” “No?” The stranger raised a brow, smirking before sipping his drink and shrugging. “If you say so.” “I didn’t!” San huffed, certain his face was bright pink. “Someone spilled–“ “Wooyoung! Motherfucker, it's your damn turn!” “Sorry, doll,” the stranger, Wooyoung apparently, winked and pushed his drink into San’s hands before cracking his knuckles. “Duty calls. See you around?” “I–“ But he didn’t get a chance to say anything else before the man was walking away, several people hollering as he stepped up to the table next to a short man with split-dyed hair. He could only stare in confusion, looking at the backs of the crowd that closed after he passed through, and the drink that he shoved into San’s hands. “San? What the hell?” He looked up as Mingi appeared in front of him, cheeks with a tipsy flush and crinkled grin while he opened his arms wide. “Look at you stepping outside of your com–“ “Do you have any ear plugs?” San blurted out, suddenly desperate to be far away from this room. “Do I…” Mingi frowned, before cocking his head to the side. “Yeah I’ve got a pack in my side table. Why–“ “Okay, thanks,“ San said abruptly, before turning away and rushing out. The moment he was back in his room, door shut behind him, he was staring at the wall, a fleeting image of soft cheeks, a curved nose, dazzling eyes, and messy flowing hair echoing in his mind. Wooyoung. What a beautiful name. *** The semester started without any problems. San found all of his classes easily (possibly because he searched for all of them the day before so that he could make sure he was on time for each one) and enjoyed all of his professors (after researching who would be the best options for the semester and making sure he was assigned to their classes). His workload was heavy, but it wasn’t anything he was new to. San was gifted, sure, but he got to where he was by working hard and putting in the time. Did it mean he wasn’t popular in school, or that he had to give up most of his hobbies and most of his social life? Of course. But that was okay, because San had a lifetime to goof off and have fun. Right now, he needed to make good grades. He needed to keep his scholarships and land a good job after graduation. “Right where I left you,” Mingi sighed as he walked into the dorm, tossing his bag to the floor, several loose, unorganized papers spilling out and making San cringe. “What a shock.” San rolled his eyes, typing away on his computer as he worked on his paper. They were two weeks into the year now, and San was determined to stay ahead. He prided himself on finishing assignments as early as possible. It kept his mind free so he could learn better. “How was your test?” “Whatever,” Mingi shrugged, flopping to his bed to stare up at the ceiling. “We’ll see.” San knew that meant he likely failed it. “Are you coming out tonight?” San tensed. “Hmm?” “There’s a party off campus. Some rich kid’s house. It’s supposed to be crazy,” Mingi explained, sitting up with a smirk. “Seonghwa will be there.” San threw a pillow at him. “For the last time I don’t like Seonghwa. And your memory is getting even worse if you think I’m coming with you to some house party.” “Oh come on,” he groaned. “I need you to run interference.” “On what?” “On me!” He exclaimed. “I told you about that guy I keep sleeping with. Didn’t you pay any attention?” “Oh yeah,” San frowned. “Our RA.” “Yeah him. And if I fuck him again, that’ll make four times in a row! I need different dick, San. It’s vital.” “Then don’t sleep with him again.” “You say that like it’s simple,” he scoffed. “It is.” “You don’t get it.” And no, San really didn’t. Any of it.  “Whatever. Get Seonghwa or Hongjoong or somebody to keep your legs closed. I have a paper to finish and an empty room to enjoy.” “Fine,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “But if I end up fucking him again, I’m bringing him here and doing it in my bed. We’ll see if that makes you care.” And San threw another pillow at him. *** San went to bed early that night, humming happily after finishing his paper and taking a long shower. Snuggled up under his cozy blanket, he slept for hours before he woke up in the night to pee, all the tea he drank while writing finally catching up to him. It was on his way back to his bed to go back to sleep that he heard a heavy thump against his door. He almost ignored it, but then he started worrying that it was Mingi passed out in front of the door again like the last time he forgot his keycard. So with a heavy sigh, San walked to the door and opened it. What he didn’t expect was for two bodies to nearly collide with him when he did. “Oh sorry,” one of them snickered with a drunken drawl. “Our bad.” It made him freeze, the sleepy fog hanging over him rapidly disappearing. “Oh hey, you’re Mingi’s roommate right? The one that pissed himself?” “Gross,” the other man said. The man that had been feverishly making out with a drunken Wooyoung against San’s door. “I–“ he stammered, before quickly heating. “I told you I didn’t pee myself! It was somebody’s drink!” “Yeah yeah,” Wooyoung waved him off with a giggle, eyes drooping as he looked at San, hands still holding the shoulders of the man with hands on his waist. San could just see the shape of it with the silk of his shirt being pressed against it by the stranger's grip. But his eyes were more fixed on his swollen lips and flushed cheeks, on the messy hair falling across the glistening orbs staring up at him. “Sorry to bug you,” Wooyoung winked, before grabbing the other man’s hands to pull him along down the hall. “We’ll let you back to your…whatever the hell you’re doing.” And San watched as the man pressed him against a different door at the end of the hall, hands hot and heavy as Wooyoung fumbled to open it while shoving his tongue down the man’s throat. It echoed in his mind as he shut his door again, staring at the wall with wide eyes. *** San wasn’t one to get distracted. He was never one to forget his focus, to let his thoughts wander to unimportant things. Like pretty names and curved noses and sharp collarbones. Like soft giggles and turned lips. “Sannie oppa! Look look!” San nearly yelled as the body collided with him, slamming into his legs at full force and almost tackling him to the ground. “Seoyeon! I told you to stop running.” “She’s fine, eomma,” he chuckled, squatting down to meet his little sister’s eyes as she proudly showed off the paper clutched in her hand. “Oh look how beautiful. This must have cost millions!” The little girl giggled in a fit, shaking her head. “No, Sannie oppa. I drew it!” “No,” he gasped, marveling at the scribbled stick figures beneath a green sun. “Oh my gosh, Seoyeon. You’re an artist!” “It’s me and Sannie oppa,” she beamed, hopping up and down as she pointed to the two. And San grinned wide, paying close attention as she explained the picture. “She missed you,” his mother sighed as he stood after the girl went running back to her room to grab something else to show him. “You’d think you’ve been gone a year.” “I know,” he smiled softly, before chiding her as he quickly took the basket of laundry from her arms. “Eomma, you’re not supposed to work while I’m here. Let me.” “Just focus on your sister, Sannie,” she shook her head, but failed to take the basket back from him. “I can take care of the rest.” “You can sit on the couch and relax, eomma. I’m home now. Let me do it.” It took an incredible amount of convincing, just as it always did, but finally, his mother sat on the couch braiding Seoyeon’s hair while San loaded the laundry and started dinner. It was their routine every time he came home. It got easier through the summer, when he was home for months and could do things before she had the chance to. It got harder when he was only home for a week for break. It had only been the three of them for seven years, since just after Seoyeon was born. And yet still, his mother tried to never show how much she needed help. It was okay. San would do his best. He would make sure she always had what she needed, even when he was away. He just had to stay focused. *** It was late October, the leaves beginning to turn gold and the air picking up a subtle chill. San sat in the courtyard outside of his dorm, enjoying the afternoon sun while he read a new book he had discovered one late night in the campus library. Halloween was next week, which meant talks of parties and events at the local clubs were going around, not that San paid much attention. He tried to ignore the conversations that happened around him before classes started, or from tables nearby in the cafeteria, or groups that passed him as he sat in the courtyard reading. He tried, until he heard that giggling laugh and saw that flowing hair when he looked up. “I’m telling you, Chan’s parties are top tier. We can’t miss it.” “You’re just saying that so you can fuck his best friend again,” the man walking with him scoffed. He was also beautiful, but San barely noticed. “Don’t insult me,” Wooyoung gasped. “He was like a seven max. The only way he’s fucking again is if he lets me top this time.” San tried not to listen. He really did. “Then you better hope your dad doesn’t hear about your latest report or your ass is gonna be on lockdown again and you’ll be stuck sucking dick in the bathrooms between classes.” “Don’t fucking remind me,” Wooyoung groaned. “I can’t deal with that damn camera in my room again.” San frowned, eyes fixed on his book even though he wanted nothing more than to watch him as he passed by, his voice growing softer until the pair reached the building. But he caught the last line, and was filled with confusion. Did people still get grounded in university? And why was there a camera in his room? Another, third question echoed through his head in their wake, one meant to be heard by someone else and not just his own mind. But it couldn’t be, because San couldn’t be distracted. He needed to focus on his studies. Not someone else’s. *** “You want to what?” San didn’t even know anymore. “Since when?” Mingi asked. “Why?” “What does it matter?” San shrugged, pretending to pay more attention to his computer than his roommate who was staring at him like he had grown a second head. “You’re the one always trying to convince me to go.” “Well duh, but your answer is always no. What changed?” “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s Halloween. Costumes are cool.” “Is this because of Seonghwa?” “For the last time,” San hissed, head jerking up, “I don’t have a crush on Seonghwa. Do you want me to come or not?” “Fine fine,” Mingi held up his hands. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re switching up all the sudden. But whatever. Don’t wear anything over the top, and be ready to go by ten.” “You said it starts at nine though.” “Oh my god,” Mingi groaned. “San, no one shows up on time to a party. We’ve talked about this.” “Whatever,” he huffed, already regretting his decision. “And I’m not dressing up.” “Cool.” This would be fine. San could handle one little party. *** San could not handle one little party. Or maybe he could, but this party was absolutely anything other than little. Whoever owned the house they arrived at was clearly rich, probably some spoiled kid whose parents were away for the weekend. It was huge, two stories tall with massive rooms and a pool out back. But even with all that space, San felt like he was suffocating the moment they stepped inside. Everyone was sweating and the whole room reeked of liquor and something else that almost made his stomach turn, definitely a healthy layer of body odor to top it all off. And there was hardly room to move through the people dancing and the ones playing games, or the ones making out in dark corners or really just anywhere even if it was completely uncomfortable to witness. What was with people and public displays of affection? “Come on,” Mingi hollered over the music, pulling San along with him to the back door as he tried not to freak out with how overwhelming this room was. The moment he stepped outside, he nearly cried in relief at the sudden fresh air and space that hit him. He felt like he could breathe again, even with the multiples of people hanging out, shouting at each other, pushing people into a definitely freezing pool or smoking around a fire pit. “Here, sit down right here and wait,” Mingi hummed as he pushed him into a lawn chair, the music much quieter out here. “I’ll go get us drinks so you can loosen up. Try to make some friends.” San wouldn’t be doing that, but he nodded anyway, pulling out his phone as soon as Mingi left. He sat there alone for a while, trying to pretend he was anywhere else aside from the occasional, searching glances he took towards the crowded house. “Hi, San! Mingi said you’d be out here.” “Oh,” San said dumbly as he looked up just to find the beautiful man standing in front of him dressed in what looked like some kind of sci-fi outfit. “Hi, Seonghwa. How are you?” “I’m great!” He beamed. “I’m glad you came. I know this isn’t really your thing, but everyone deserves to loosen up once in a while.” “Yeah I–“ He paused at a loud chorus of cheers from inside, but Seonghwa didn’t even seem to notice. “Well, Mingi asked me to bring you this,” he continued, holding out a plastic cup for San to take. “And he said once you’re buzzed, you can come find him by the pong table with Hongjoong. That’s my boyfriend.” “Of course he did,” San sighed, stomach sinking even further. Leave it to Mingi to ditch him not even ten minutes in. “Thanks, Seonghwa. You can get back to your friends now.” The beautiful man frowned a little, something like worry in his eyes as San went to stare at his phone again. “I can hang out for a while? I’d hate to leave you alone when it’s pretty obvious you don’t know anyone here.” “It’s fine,” he smiled politely, though he was certain it must look forced. “This is my karma for coming when I knew I shouldn’t. I’ll just wait on him to get bored. Should only be like six hours.” At least he could read on his phone. “Why did you come?” He looked up at the question, finding Seonghwa staring at him in intrigue. “I–“ he started, but he had no idea how to answer. He definitely couldn’t tell the truth. He was saved by someone hollering Seonghwa’s name, and the man looking at him apologetically. “It’s fine,” San waved him off, holding up his phone. “I’ve got three books downloaded. I’ll be okay.” With one last sympathetic look, Seonghwa left him alone once again, and San opened his app and pulled up the book he had left off reading the last time he was stuck somewhere he didn’t want to be. And he wondered how long it would be before he saw him again. *** He lasted for a near hour, sitting in his chair reading as best he could manage with the constant shouting and conversation and only barely muted music. His drink remained untouched aside from the one sip he had taken to determine that it was absolutely disgusting, so his head was far too clear to consider going back into that house. But he needed to do something. Reading wasn’t distracting him anymore, and the music and crowd had only gotten louder, the shouting more constant. Part of him just wanted to go home, but the other part…it was curious about the reason he came, especially as he eyed the different outfits everyone was wearing. He wondered what he was wearing. But the house looked so large in front of him. The music pounded loud in his ears. And the crowd looked so very suffocating. So with a grimace, and a long back and forth with himself over whether it was worth it or if he would rather live with another regret, he chugged the foul drink. It took too long, multiple gagging wretches making him pause so that he didn’t spew up everything he drank, until finally, the last drop burned down his throat and he took in a heavy breath. And he waited. He always had a low tolerance, so it didn’t take long. Whatever he drank was strong, and he hadn’t eaten in a few hours. So in only a few minutes, he realized that whenever he turned his head, the world seemed to drag with him a little. Everything felt just a little fuzzy. And with another heavy breath, he stood, and made his way into the stinking crowd of people he’d rather never see again. “Sannie! Oh my god man I forgot you were here!” San felt the sudden urge to play pong, but rather than a plastic ball, he’d like to throw a certain giant face first into a stack of beer filled cups. “Come on, come on!” Mingi hollered, pulling him over by slinging an arm across his shoulders. “You’re just in time. I need a new team mate.” “I’m not interested,” he grumbled, pushing the arm off of him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?” “You?” Mingi scoffed, staggering a little. He was definitely already drunk. “Dude I’ve been waiting forever for you to come inside. Did you get lost or something?” “I don’t want to–“ “Yo, Mingi. Come on man, it's your throw!” “Yeah, come on, Sannie boy,” Mingi laughed, pushing the ping pong ball into his hand. “Just bounce it off the table and aim for the cups.” San wanted to protest, but he knew there was no point in arguing with a drunk Mingi. He had learned long ago that whatever the man wanted to do, he was going to do. Whether that meant showering with all his clothes still on or climbing into San’s bed to cuddle in nothing but his boxers. “Fine,” he huffed, looking at the table and the cups and judging the distance, before tossing the little ball. “Oh shit.” “Fuck yeah! That’s my boy!” Mingi shouted, smacking San’s shoulders and shaking him roughly, which was most unfortunate for his fuzzy head. “Chill out,” he whined, shoving his hands off. “It’s just physics. If you paid attention–“ “It’s your turn again, come on,” Mingi urged, handing him the ball again after their opponent, Hongjoong, tossed it back to them while chugging the cup San had hit. “Two for two my boy, let’s go!” San whined in defiance, but repeated, threatening Mingi with his life when he yelled in his ear again and started shaking him once more. He missed his third shot, and Hongjoong made one in before missing his second. Mingi was clearly far too drunk to be any good and completely missed the table with his shot, and Hongjoong’s teammate wasn’t much better. They continued back and forth for a while, Hongjoong keeping up well. But the problem came when San started feeling the room spin. “Fuck,” he groaned after missing another shot. “Mingi. I need to go to the bathroom.” “Not until we win!” They didn’t. And by the time Mingi finally let him escape, San’s throat was burning with acid. He staggered through the crowd in the direction Mingi pointed, clutching the wall when he finally found the stairs and stumbling up them. He would kill for a glass of water, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it down with how much his stomach was turning. This was why he hated drinking. “Oh yeah? Well fuck you too then! Petty fucking bitch!” He had barely made it up the stairs when he heard shouting, his eyes struggling in the dim light and the spinning hall to take in the image several feet away. He wasn’t the only one looking. A few others lined the hall, some seemingly in line for something, others in an embrace that looked like they had just been pulled from heavily making out, others sitting by the railing overlooking the downstairs, tapping away on their phones like they couldn’t care less about the shouted argument unfolding in front of them. But San couldn’t even hope to look away from the scene. “Then fucking leave!” Wooyoung kept shouting, shoving at some man that San didn’t know. “You limp dick bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?” “You’re so fucking immature. I’m trying to have an adult conversation with you and all you wanna do is fucking argue!” “Oh kiss my ass! Adult conversation. You’re a fucking clown! You think we’re some kind of couple because we fucked one time?” “Are you kidding me? Are you actually gonna stand here and tell me you forgot the two other fucking times? God you’re such a fucking whore you can’t even remember–“ San’s eyes went wide as the slap echoed through the air, before Wooyoung was shoving the man again. “I have half a mind to beat your fucking ass for daring to call me a whore when you’re not in my bed. Get the fuck out, asshole. Before I give you something to be fucking embarassed about.” The man looked ready to swing, but San watched in shock as instead, he backed up, shaking his head with laughter. “Good luck finding someone to take you seriously. At least you can live off your daddy’s money the rest of your life. It’s not like anyone else is ever gonna wannna support a dumbass slut who can’t even remember his body count.” San fought the urge to trip the guy as he shoved past him down the stairs, and instead, watched as Wooyoung leaned back against the wall and sank down to sit, hands running up through his hair. And he debated again, glancing behind him to the crowd below, and ahead to the line for the bathroom that had gone back to minding their business now that the show was over. It was what he should do. It wasn’t his business. It wasn’t. “Um, hi,” he said awkwardly, shifting on his feet as he came to stand in front of the hunched man. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I–“ “Piss pants guy,” Wooyoung hummed after looking up, letting his head hang back to rest against the wall. “Here looking for your boyfriend again?” San stuttered around multiple indignant words. “I didn’t,” he hissed. “I told you I– and he’s not my boyfriend! He’s just my roommate!” “Yeah yeah,” he waved a hand through the air. “Well he’s not up here, man. And I haven’t seen him.” “I’m not looking for him,” San argued. “I’m look–“ He caught himself just before he could make a fool of himself. Damned alcohol. “I just,” he paused, chewing his cheek. “I saw…whatever that was, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Wooyoung raised a brow at him, something in his face looking…annoyed? “I’m fine,” he shrugged, rolling his eyes. “You know how it is. Some people just get attached. I can’t blame them. I’m a catch.” San almost agreed, but he caught himself again. “Well then, if you’re okay,” he mumbled, glancing to the line for the bathroom as it got shorter. He should go to it. He should use the bathroom and go back downstairs and beg Mingi to leave. At this rate, he’d be better off just walking back to the dorm alone. He might throw up on the way, but it would be better than… “You know, if you need someone to help you study, I’m really good at tutoring,” he blurted out, watching as Wooyoung’s brows raised higher. “I used to do it for cash and you know, college applications love it. I’m really smart, I guess. I mean I study a lot, and I guess I pick things up pretty easy. But I’m a really good…tutor.” He trailed off as Wooyoung began laughing. “Gee thanks,” he said sarcastically, his laugh somewhere between a giggle and a cackle. “But I’m good, man.” San frowned, confusion filling him. “But you–“ “San! Yo San! Come on, man! I can’t win without you!” “I think your boyfriend’s calling,” Wooyoung smirked. “He’s not–“ “San!” The voice grew louder, and San looked down the hall to see Mingi staggering up the stairs. “Yo, Wooyoung? I didn’t even know you were here, man!” “Where else would I be?” He responded cockily, hopping up and punching Mingi’s shoulder as he approached. “You should come play pong with us. I need a new teammate since my old one apparently ditched me.” “I told you I needed to use the bathroom,” San grumbled. “Wouldn’t want him to end up with another spilled drink on his pants,” Wooyoung said with a smirk at San. “Sorry man, I was just headed to grab a drink actually. I’m too sober for this shit.” Mingi sighed. “Fine. Come on, San. Even though your beginners luck went to shit, you’re the only one that can keep up with Hongjoong.” San glanced behind him as Mingi pulled him along, eyes following that flowy hair the whole way until it was lost from his sight. Then he turned back to the crowd ahead, his head spinning again as he tried to figure out when he lost his mind. He never found the answer though, especially not when a mere thirty minutes later, his eyes found that flowing hair once again, as it lay back against the shoulder of a stranger, while leather covered hips swirled against denim and damp collarbones reflected the purple lights of the party around him. No, he was left to further question his sanity as lips pulled over teeth in a cocky grin until that sharp jawline was turning to press his pink mouth to the man he danced for. And San hated how much he wished it was him. *** He was going insane. He was. Some kind of delayed effect of puberty. San had been through crushes before. He had seen beautiful men that peaked his interest, or become a little infatuated with someone pretty that was nice to him. But this was different. No matter what he did, San couldn’t get this one off his mind. And while Wooyoung may have been drop dead gorgeous, he definitely wasn’t nice to San. Maybe not rude, but definitely not kind. It was clear he couldn’t care less what San thought of him. And maybe that bugged him a little. Because maybe he wanted Wooyoung to think of him enough to care. “Stupid,” he hissed to himself, barely resisting the urge to scream into his pillow as he realized that once again, he had stopped reading his research assignment because his mind had drifted off. He didn’t even know anything about the man. Were they in the same year? Were they even the same age? Did he grow up in Seoul, or somewhere else? Did he have any hobbies? Any interests other than the obvious of partying and…other things? He could ask Mingi, since apparently the two knew each other, but he couldn’t face the embarrassment and definite teasing. No matter how strategically he asked, Mingi would catch on because, well, San didn’t ask questions about any of his friends ever. He had never cared before. But this time… Pathetic. He was pathetic. A stupid schoolboy with a crush. But that didn’t stop him from typing the letters into his phone and scrolling through the list that came up until he found the right one. Of course he had thousands of followers. He was obviously popular. He probably had hundreds of people crushing on him. Why wouldn’t he? Especially when his pictures were so…him. Shots of him under neon lights, laughing with friends, hanging off of playground sets, cleaner pictures that could have passed as model shots, and more intimate pictures. It was the last ones that had San pausing. Wooyoung with his head hanging off a bed, eyeing the camera with smoky eyes and his own hand on his throat. One with his undone shirt slipping off his shoulders, exposing his whole upper back as he looked at the camera in a tiny mirror on the wall. Another with what looked like sweat or water dripping down his face from damp hair, down his sharp collarbones, as his plump lips parted and his teeth closed on the tips of his own fingers. “Fuck,” San breathed, face flushing as he became all too aware of his own body, of the heat growing under his skin. It was the final picture that had him giving up—a picture of the man in slacks, leaning back against a desk with a silk button down halfway undone, sultry eyes looking down at the camera with a cocky smirk, messy hair falling across his brows and his jaw sharp over a map of veins across his neck. And San could imagine all too well how Wooyoung would look down on him like that. Mingi was gone for the night, disappeared off to some party that San absolutely refused to go to after being stuck at the last one for hours and hours. But it was the images of that night that echoed in his mind as his fingers slid into the waistband of his sweatpants, into his boxers. San hissed in a breath as he palmed his growing erection, his brain screaming at him to stop, that he should be ashamed. And he knew he would be, and maybe he was now. But it didn’t stop him. He should be embarrassed at the thought of touching himself to an Instagram picture of someone he barely knew. Maybe even disgusted. But all he could do was moan as he thumbed the head of his cock, eyes heavy on the image on his screen as he remembered that night, the way Wooyoung danced against that stranger. The way his hips moved against him, how his hands trailed over exposed skin and his lips followed suit. And he imagined Wooyoung touching him that way, his big tan hands squeezing his skin, his pillowy pink lips kissing up his neck. San moaned again as he stroked himself, panting as he pictured Wooyoung touching him like this, that he was the one that the beautiful man had led up those stairs after several minutes of filthy grinding and making out to some shitty pop song that San didn’t know. He pictured Wooyoung stroking him just like this in some small room that reeked of sex and liquor, those dark, devious eyes watching his every reaction as he played with his cock. “Oh my god,” he breathed, hardly more than a whisper, his moans so soft as he tried to stay quiet because he couldn’t bear the thought of someone passing by and figuring out what he was doing, guessing that he was touching himself to the thought of some man that didn’t even care about him. He wondered if Wooyoung would be soft, if he would take his time touching over San, or if he would be rough and demanding. He wondered what part of him Wooyoung would want, if he wanted him at all. He wondered if he would want to taste him like San craved to taste him, if he would look up with those devilish eyes as he wrapped those pink lips around his cock. He wondered if he would stop there. And he imagined that he didn’t. He imagined that sinful mouth toying with him until he was whining. He imagined those thick fingers sliding into him. He imagined– “Oh fuck,” he moaned, gasping as he spurted cum into his boxers, fist stroking and squeezing out the rest as he panted with the force of his orgasm. He should be ashamed. And he was. But Wooyoung was just such a beautiful name. *** San didn’t speak to Wooyoung again after the party. November and December came and went, and the new semester began. But every time San saw him, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Whether it was catching sight of him walking through the courtyard on his way back to the dorm, always trailed by his friend, or a rare glimpse in the hall or cafeteria, San found that he could barely do more than remember to breathe when his eyes were on the beautiful man. It would have been embarrassing, if anyone knew. But San never let on. Thankfully, with Mingi as his only friend, there wasn’t really anyone to figure out his secret. Mingi lived in his own world, and he was usually too distracted by his own insane social life to notice San’s. Maybe it wasn’t embarrassing, but that didn’t change the fact that San was deeply ashamed. It had started with that night, that first time he got off thinking about his stunning features and pitched voice. San had gone to sleep ashamed enough, swearing that he would never do something so pathetic again. But every time Wooyoung uploaded a new picture, San found himself laid in his bed in the dark once again, hand in his boxers and the light from his phone bright in his eyes. The worst one had been the time that Wooyoung decided to go live while he hung out in his dorm with that friend he was always with—Yeosang, San had learned. It had been such a random live, with him chasing an array of topics, laughing with his friend, and dancing to the music he had on in the background whenever he knew the choreography. He was a dancer, San had also learned. And he was good. And San had felt downright filthy when he came in his palm as he watched him. His secret. His dumb, disgusting, pathetic secret crush that he could never do anything about except to indulge it in private. He didn’t follow him around, or even seek him out. He wasn’t a stalker. But his eyes followed him whenever he was graced with a glimpse, and his fingers shook every time his phone pinged a notification that he had posted once again. He needed to get a grip, but he didn’t really see how. And it wasn’t like he was harming anyone, or messing with his grades. At least, not until his slip up in the library. It was a month into the new semester, and San was keeping up well with his new classes. He had received high marks on his exams, and was excited for the change. He missed a couple of his old classes, but he greatly enjoyed several of his new ones. They did, however, come with a little more research requirements than he had prepared for. Which meant, of course, that he spent most of his afternoons in the campus library, reading and typing until his eyes began to droop shut, or Mingi came in to pull him away for dinner. The latter only occurred when the man’s other friends weren’t available, but San never minded. It was a nice change on those nights to not eat alone or from a to go box brought back to his room. It was a regular Wednesday afternoon when it happened, just another sunny day as San typed away on his computer and sipped on the Americano he bought at the coffee shop next door. He was almost finished with his paper when he heard it, and when every hair on his body stood on edge from the sound. “–bullshit. I’m barely even failing!” “Shhh!” San looked up as one of the staff members quieted the very nearly shouting boy, his eyes immediately rolling in response before his friend pulled him along. “You only passed half of your exams, and the ones you did were by the skin of your teeth,” Yeosang scoffed. “Did you really expect him to keep playing nice?” “Yeah but I’m doing better!” “You failed two tests last week. Don’t make me laugh. Now go find your books and sit here while we go get us coffees. And don’t even think about running off. I’m not dealing with you getting put in lockdown again. Jjongie won’t go to parties with me, and you’re my only friend.” “I go to parties,” the other man—Jongho, Yeosang’s new boyfriend—argued. “I just don’t see the point in going to one every weekend.” “Yeah yeah, come on honey.” San watched as Wooyoung huffed, pouting in the chair he slumped in after dropping his bag on the table and glaring after the couple that departed. After a minute, he finally stood with an exasperated sigh, head swiveling for barely a second before he shrugged and walked off in a seemingly random direction to disappear into the bookshelves. And if San were smart, he would have returned to his paper. He would have minded his business. “Oh, sorry.” San tried not to flush at the sudden contact as he turned the corner of a bookshelf and promptly bumped into the very man he had gone looking for. “Oh, you’re…um…Seom, right?” He barely stopped himself from flinching. At least it was close. “Uh, San, actually,” he smiled awkwardly, bowing politely. “Right, San,” Wooyoung nodded, and this time, San had to stop himself from choking on a breath at the sound of his name on the man’s lips. “Mingi’s friend, yeah?” “Yeah,” he nodded. “Sorry, I um, didn’t mean to bump into you.” “It’s whatever,” Wooyoung shrugged. “I guess this is probably heaven for you or something.” San almost spluttered before he realized what he meant. “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do spend a lot of time here. You don’t, I’m guessing?” “Obviously,” he scoffed, looking around with disdain. “Old books are fucking creepy.” San frowned, deeply confused by the sentiment. “I’m only here because my dumbass friend forced me,” he sighed, leaning back against the shelf behind him. “So I don’t flunk out this year or some shit.” “Oh,” San uttered, not sure what to say since he had already overheard. He decided a little honesty would probably feel the least weird. “I um, heard actually. When you came in.” Wooyoung eyed him, and San began to feel uneasy when he didn’t speak, when his eyes seemed to be measuring him for far too long. Was that too obvious? “You’re smart?” “What?” He asked, nerves completely on edge. “Like you study and shit, yeah? You could tell me what books I’m looking for?” “Oh,” San let out a relieved laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Uh, yeah I guess. Um what are your–“ “Good, here,” he cut him off, before shoving a paper into his hand. “I need all of these, apparently.” San blinked, then looked down at the paper in his hands, before his eyes went wide as he took in the long list. “Um…did you…like…get any books at the start of the semester?” “Why would I do that?” “Oh god,” San breathed, suddenly deeply distracted. And worried. What if Wooyoung did fail? What if he got kicked out before the year was up? What if San never got to look at him again? “Um most of these are this way,” he stood up straighter. “You can uh, follow me?” Wooyoung gestured with his hand for San to lead the way, and followed along without any sign of care as San led him deeper through the library, grabbing books along the way and passing several to him to hold. “Goddamn,” Wooyoung groaned when San pulled yet another. “Why are they all so fucking heavy?” “They’re heavy weight paper,” San shrugged. “It’s better for pictures. Textbooks are lighter.” “Gee how interesting.” San ignored the sarcasm, grabbing the last book and turning back to the man behind him. “Um, that’s it. Should we take them back to your–“ Wooyoung was already turning away from him, trudging back in the direction of his table before dropping the stack in his arms to the surface without care. “How the fuck am I supposed to read all of these?” “Well,” San frowned, looking over them. “I doubt you need to read them all. Usually teachers assign books that you only need a few pages from. What are the assignments?” Wooyoung just shrugged. “I don’t know. Sangie put the list together. We’re in the same classes.” “I see,” he hummed. “Is he…coming back to help you?” “Who knows,” he huffed, plopping down in the chair. “He’s probably on a bench somewhere making out with his boyfriend while my coffee gets cold.” San thought that was kind of rude, especially since Wooyoung was clearly far out of his element and obviously in need of help. “Do you…want me to help?” Wooyoung eyed him again, before looking down at the mess of books, then shrugged and looked off to the side. “If you want. I couldn’t care less.” And maybe San should have taken that as his time to leave the man alone. But who could blame him for taking it as his invitation instead. He sat down across from him, scooting his chair up and tidying up the stacks to give them workspace. “Do you have your laptop? Or a notebook?” Wooyoung raised a brow, and pointed to his bag. Inside, San found a laptop, and a few notebooks that he really shouldn’t have been surprised to discover were completely empty. Thankfully, Wooyoung was helpful enough to log him into his student portal, and with a little digging, San found his current assignments for each of his classes, pulling up the tabs and jotting down a list to start off with. “So it looks like you’re overdue on four,” he frowned, trying not to have a heart attack as he looked at all of the red on the screen. “You have until tonight to submit them for partial credit.” “Skip them,” Wooyoung shrugged again. “What’s next?” San’s frown deepened. “Um…you really shouldn’t skip assignments. Even if you get a failing grade it’s better than–“ “What’s the point if I’m not gonna get them done in time?” He scoffed, waving a hand through the air. “Just move on.” “But you can,” San argued. “They’re not hard. Look, this one is just a hundred word discussion on the stock market. That’s easy.” “For you,” he glared. “Why the fuck would I know about the stock market enough to write a hundred words about it?” San was already beginning to feel frustrated, which probably wasn’t a good sign. “It’s simple. Here, I’ll talk, and you just type it in your own words.” He slid the laptop back to Wooyoung, and waited for the man to give in, sitting up and grumbling before hovering his fingers over the keyboard and looking at San expectantly. And so, San began to explain based on the prompt, keeping it fairly basic and slowing down whenever Wooyoung told him to wait. In less than ten minutes, they were stopping, and the man was cocking his head as he looked at the screen. “Wow, you were right. That was easy,” Wooyoung observed, and San felt his chest swell with pride. “See? Here, let me look so I can check if it needs editing.” Wooyoung slid it back to him, and San quickly began to read over what he had written. He barely made it three sentences before awareness hit him. “Wooyoung. You just typed everything I said,” he gaped. “Duh,” he rolled his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Because that’s plagiarism!” He said in horror. “You can’t submit that.” Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, before sitting forward and turning the laptop sideways. And San watched in shock as he moved the cursor and clicked before sitting back. “Whoops.” San stared at the screen with the word “submitted” across the assignment, certain he couldn’t have just watched that happen. “You…” “What’s next, teacher?” “You cheated,” San breathed, eyes stuck on the screen. “No,” Wooyoung frowned. “I learned a lot actually. Who knew you couldn’t invest in your own stock?” “That’s not– you can! I said you can! It’s just that at certain times it’s–“ “Come on, Sannie,” he sighed, sinking further in his chair. “We don’t have all night. I have three other assignments that you insist I need to do before I can move on. Or are you just gonna be an uptight little nerd the whole time?” San gaped, his head suddenly stuck. Sannie. Wooyoung called him Sannie. Why did it sound so pretty when he said it? “Well?” “Um…well I– okay,” he muttered, shoulders deflating as he pulled the laptop closer again. He knew he should argue, but honestly, he was just trying not to blush or pop a boner. “Um…your next one is your English class.” “You speak it?” Wooyoung cocked a brow. “Well…yeah,” San frowned. “I started studying in high–“ “Cool,” he popped his lips, sitting up and grabbing the computer back from San. “Well? How would you describe Seoul in fifty English words? And go slow. I have to click all the letters.” San knew he shouldn’t answer. He knew he shouldn’t help him cheat. *** “Done,” Wooyoung hummed, submitting the last assignment and cracking his knuckles again. “Wow. Who knew school shit could be so easy?” San felt horrible. “You’re a good teacher, Sannie,” he told him, leaning back in his chair again before looking him up and down with a smirk. “A lot better looking than the rest of mine too.” San was floating. “What the fuck?” They both looked up at the sudden voice, and San recognized Yeosang and his boyfriend Jongho as they reached the table, three coffees held between them. “I should ask you the same thing, asshole,” Wooyoung scoffed, shutting his laptop. “You were supposed to be helping me. Where the fuck have you two been, hmm?” “There was a long ass line, and Jjongie wanted to go for a walk,” Yeosang shrugged after eyeing San for a long moment. “And I never agreed to helping. I said I would babysit you so that you couldn’t skip out of your assignments again.” “Yeah, well San babysat me just fine,” Wooyoung stuck his tongue, before standing with a stretch. “And he’s a lot more helpful than you. I’m all done.” “Actually, there’s–“ San began, ready to point out that Wooyoung actually had six more assignments due by tomorrow night, and it would be wise to at least start them. “Thanks a lot, Sannie,” Wooyoung cut him off with a beautifully stunning smile, and San watched in horror as he took his hand and kissed the back of it before chucking his laptop in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and snatching the coffee from Yeosang’s hand. “I’ll let you know if I need your big brain again soon. Bye bye.” And San could do nothing but sit frozen and watch as he strutted out of the library, Yeosang scoffing and following after with Jongho right beside him. San stared down at his hand as it hovered over the table strewn with books that the man hadn’t bothered to put back. The soft pressure of pillowy lips against his skin echoed through his body, and his head swam with the sight of them upon his hand before the beautiful man had pulled away, eyes looking up to meet his for less than half a second. And San had never put away books faster, nor ran back to his empty dorm quicker. *** It had been a week since San had seen him. Actually, that was a lie. San had in fact seen him several times: in the cafeteria, outside the dorm building, hopping into Jongho’s car with Yeosang to go somewhere that San didn’t know. He wasn’t following him, not at all. He was just simply spending a lot more time in the places he knew he would catch a glimpse of him, but only because he meant to talk to him. He really did mean to. He told himself that he would ask the beautiful man if he needed more help studying, promised himself several times. Only, every time he saw him, his heart climbed up into his throat and he felt like throwing up. And if Wooyoung saw him, he never said anything either. Perhaps it was the answer San needed. Really, it should have been. Clearly the boy didn’t need his help enough to seek him out. After all, he knew where San’s dorm was since he had made out with that random man against his door several months ago. But San still found himself trying to convince his head that Wooyoung must have forgotten. He was drunk that night. He probably didn’t even remember the interaction, much less the room number. Yeah. That was what he told himself. Wooyoung just didn’t remember, and he had just been too busy this week to think about his assignments or ask for help. San should ask him. He really should. It was how he found himself waiting by a cracked door after Mingi left for the night to go to some big party that San hoped Wooyoung would also go to. He waited, listening for the sound of a door clicking open and the melodic, honey voice to follow. Maybe it could be considered creepy, but San just wanted to help him. And see him. The moment he heard the very sounds he waited for, however, he lost his edge, his heart pounding once again. What was wrong with him? Why did such a stupid crush have to affect him so much? What would he even do if he kept on like this? Would he turn into an actual creep? Become obsessed and resigned to always watching from a distance, always hoping without hope and hanging on a glimpse of his face or a trace of his voice through the air? Wait until Wooyoung finally realized what a weirdo he was and reported him to campus administration? “Wait!” San didn’t even know what he was doing until it was too late, until he had flung open his door and stumbled out, the word he very nearly shouted echoing in the empty hall as Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho froze mid conversation and turned back to look at him. “Your tutor?” Yeosang asked, cocking his head to the side as he looked San up and down with a judgmental brow. “He’s not my tutor, but sure,” Wooyoung sighed, his eyebrows questioning in contrast. “San, right?” Truthfully, San was stuck somewhere between trying to figure out how he ended up out here, and trying not to be completely distracted by the way Wooyoung had left several buttons undone on his silk shirt or the way the matching silk sash wrapped around his neck like a choker or a tossed necktie. “Um…yeah,” he managed. “Can I help you with something?” He tried not to wince at his tone, instead clearing his throat and shuffling his feet and trying to remember the words he rehearsed. “I was just uh…” he started. God this was so much more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, especially with Yeosang and Jongho staring at him. “I just wanted to check if you needed any more help…with your assignments. You…well I know you had a lot and you were, I don’t know, overwhelmed or something. And I–“ A loud snort from Jongho cut him off, and the look the man shared with Yeosang had his face growing warm. He was making a fool of himself. If Wooyoung didn’t think he was a creep yet, he definitely did now. “You wanna tutor me again?” Wooyoung simply asked. “Um…yeah,” he answered, hating how small he sounded. He was so embarrassed. He just wanted to go back into his room and crawl into his bed and cry and never come back out. “If you want. It’s fine if you don’t. I just like helping people, and I thought–“ “I’m busy,” Wooyoung cut him off, and San could literally feel the tears burning their way up his throat. He hated this. He hated it. He hated feeling this way. He hated how pretty Wooyoung was. He hated how Yeosang and Jongho were looking at him. He hated how much he wanted to beg. He hated– “Tomorrow night?” San froze, his pounding heart suddenly silent, only a faint ringing in his ears to be heard as he stared at the man, certain he had seen his lips move to form the words. “Tomorrow?” He repeated, stuck in a daze with tears halfway to his eyes. “Pretty sure I’m free after like eight,” Wooyoung shrugged, before turning around and resuming his walk down the hall as he called back. “Come or don’t. Whatever makes you happy.” Yeosang lingered long enough to roll his eyes, before following after his friend with Jongho in tow. But San couldn’t form any other words. He could only stare, certain that he must have misheard. Only, he hadn’t. And as he stepped back into his room and shut the door, he found himself sliding down it, staring at the carpet as he came to terms with what just happened. And then he was squealing silently, covering his blushing face with his hands and tapping his feet on the floor in excitement. Jung Wooyoung invited him over to study. *** Waiting for eight o’clock the following night was torture. San couldn’t figure out if he was more nervous or excited, just some stomach turning mixture of the two that had him unable to focus the whole day. He barely did any of his own schoolwork, knowing he would need to catch up tomorrow on the things he failed to find the concentration to complete today. And by the time it finally came around, he was ready to crawl out of his skin with nerves, his hands shaking as he tied his shoes. “I can't believe you’re ditching me,” Mingi griped for the third time that evening while he played his video game that San was supposed to be playing with him. “You’re one to talk,” San scoffed, walking to the bathroom to check his appearance one more time. He had stuck to a casual outfit, something that made him look nice but comfortable, like he hadn’t put a fraction of the thought into it that he actually had. “Where are you going again?” Mingi called from the room. “Tutoring,” San answered again. “I don’t think I’ll be back late.” “Yeah, you said. But tutoring where? Who?” San paused as he stepped out of the room, trying to pick a good lie, but then Mingi began shouting as he lost his match. So instead, he said a rushed goodbye while he was distracted, grabbed his bag, and got out before his roommate could ask any more questions. Maybe it didn’t need to be a secret. After all, San had tutored a few people before. But the more he thought about telling Mingi, the more he imagined every follow up question and teasing remark until he knew he’d be failing in a lie and end up with Mingi finding out his crush. No one needed to know. Definitely not Mingi. And definitely not– “About damn time,” Wooyoung scoffed as he opened the door, leaving it ajar to San as he walked away carelessly and slumped his bed. San stood frozen in the doorway for several seconds, still trying to calm the pounding of his heart from just knocking on the door let alone seeing Wooyoung laid out on his bed staring up at his phone. “Um…you said eight,” he finally muttered, checking the time on his phone to find it was indeed only two minutes past. He had purposefully waited in the hall for five minutes so he wouldn’t seem too eager by being early or perfectly on time. “Did you bring snacks?” Wooyoung simply asked, ignoring him. “Snacks?” San frowned. “No. Why would I–“ “The fuck kind of tutor doesn’t bring snacks,” he griped, tossing his phone to the side and sitting up again to stare expectantly at San. “Well? Are you coming in?” “Oh, yeah,” he startled, stepping in and shutting the door behind him, trying to ignore how immediately aware he was of being alone in a room with his hopeless crush. “I thought you said I’m not your tutor?” Wooyoung just shrugged, watching San as he shuffled into the room, looking around at the minimal furniture and fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You can sit at the desk,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes when San just stared at him. He pointed to the small desk beside his bed, his bag tossed atop it along with a mess of empty chip bags and candy wrappers. It could have been dirtier, but it was definitely untidy. San sat down as told, pulling his notebook and a pen out of his own bag before pulling Wooyoung’s laptop out of the one on the desk. He gathered up the empty trash quickly and tossed it into the little wastebasket beside the desk, finding it a little easier to breathe without the clutter as he opened up the computer. “Did you do any assignments since the other day?” He asked, staring hard at the screen rather than looking at Wooyoung again. He found it made it too hard to keep his train of thought and not stumble over his words. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself again. “What do you think?” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and in the corner of his eye, San saw him pull his legs up to sit criss crossed, watching San while he opened his student portal. He wasn’t surprised, instead sighing as he looked at all the assignments with a red OVERDUE next to them. For all of his prettiness, Wooyoung really had terrible task management skills. “Well, we should work on the overdue ones first,” San started, scrolling through to figure out the best ones to start with. “How are you doing on your tests and quizzes and stuff?” When he got no answer, he finally looked over, only for Wooyoung to shrug. “What does that mean?” San asked after pausing for a moment to stop himself from getting distracted by how soft he looked sitting like that in his bed, black t-shirt baggy on his frame, grey sweatpants matching. Wooyoung just shrugged again in response, and San decided to give up on that front for now because he probably shouldn’t keep looking at him. He would figure out his test taking capabilities another day. “Let’s start with this one,” he finally decided, picking one that was fairly simple so that they could ease in, and passing the computer to Wooyoung. “They just want a description of the current economic trend in retail.” Wooyoung raised a brow, staring blankly at him, and San sighed, looking down at his own hands and beginning his description for the man to steal. They finished it quickly, as well as the two after. He did most of his math work for him, but it was easier than trying to explain it when Wooyoung just stared at him blankly every time. San knew it was wrong, but he hoped at least Wooyoung was learning something from it. Besides, as much as he had been honest about the fact that he did enjoy helping people, the man’s academic success wasn’t the point in being here. Wooyoung’s room smelled like he did, nice, light, a hint of something earthy. Sandalwood? Mahogany? Maybe teakwood… And though his room was far from clean, it was nice. There were a few pictures on the walls—still life shots that San could tell he had taken himself after spending enough time on his social media—and the little kitchenette looked like it was never used. San had a suspicion that the man didn’t spend much time here. His bed was made at least, with nearly a dozen pillows thrown all over it, and a string of lights on the walls that gave the room a nice glow with the overhead off and only a lamp on in the corner. It was comfortable, other than the increase of nerves San felt every time Wooyoung stared at him. Why did he have to be so pretty? “San?” “Hmm?” San jerked his head up from where he had zoned out for a few seconds staring at the remaining list of assignments. They were mostly caught up, just a few more left. “Sorry. You’re almost done. Would you rather do your lab assignment or history–“ “How much longer?” Wooyoung sighed, cutting him off. “Well, um…lab is probably one of those weird interactive things again. But history–“ “No,” Wooyoung snorted, leaning back on his hands behind him. “How much longer are you gonna keep it up?” San frowned, looking up at him for probably only the fifth time since sitting down. He froze at what he saw. Wooyoung was staring at him, but something in his eyes seemed…playful? Amused? His head was cocked to the side a little, his bangs sweeping across his left eye. But most importantly, and dangerously, the way he leaned back, legs a little spread in front of him, had San forgetting how to breathe. “Keep…” he stammered, trying to get his brain to work again. “Sorry?” Wooyoung’s lips teased up at the corner, and a soft hum spilled from behind them. “I said,” he repeated, eyes sliding from San’s to somewhere lower. “How much longer are you going to keep pretending you just came to help me study?” San very nearly choked, his heart either stopping completely or pounding far too hard. Honestly, he couldn’t really tell which because he was pretty sure his brain was breaking. “What…what do you mean? I…” he stuttered. “I’m here to…we’re studying. You’re–“ Wooyoung scoffed, tossing his head to the other side and pushing back his hair as he sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed to dangle his legs off the side. Legs that suddenly, San was very nearly sitting between. Not now. He couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t get a fucking boner in front of his crush. He couldn’t– “Sannie,” Wooyoung hummed, and San forgot how to breathe as he watched his hand come up, sliding under San’s chin and tilting his head back with a light, two finger grip on his jaw. And Wooyoung smiled softly down at him. “Come on. Do you think I can’t tell when someone wants to fuck me?” And of course San ruined the moment by coughing directly in his face, wheezing in a breath as he quickly shoved his chair backward in an attempt to stand, just to end up nearly screaming as the chair almost tipped backwards. “I didn’t– I– I should– I–“ he rushed, looking quickly to the door. What was happening? What was happening? But Wooyoung was only laughing, and then San was freezing again as the man grabbed his hands instead, pulling him closer to where he sat on the bed. “It’s okay, Sannie,” he smirked, and San gasped as he placed his hands on his cotton covered thighs, their warmth beneath his fingers. “I don’t mind. I mean maybe all of the staring at me all the time would be creepy if you weren’t hot. But you are, and honestly, I’ve never fucked a nerd before. I’m kinda curious.” He had to be dreaming. This was another one of the wet dreams he had woken up from several times ever since meeting Wooyoung. He would wake up any second now and wish to fall back asleep. Any second. “Come on, Sannie,” Wooyoung hummed, tilting his head back a little. “You want to, don’t you?” San couldn’t hope to answer him. All he could do was stare down at him with wide eyes, certain that this must be some kind of sick joke. Wooyoung was messing with him. Maybe Yeosang and Jongho were in the closet recording the whole thing. “San,” Wooyoung said a little more firmly, making him wince, only to tense further as his hands slid to his waist, thumbs tracing his hip bones and nearly turning his legs to jelly. “I need an answer, baby. Do you want to?” God, did he want to. San didn’t even know what he wanted, or how much he wanted. Or rather he did, but he had no idea how to have it. How to take it. How to be with him.  So embarrassing. A squeeze to his hip made him flinch again, and for a moment, he thought about leaving, giving up and running away and pretending none of this ever happened, that it was only his wild, obsessed imagination. But instead, he just kept staring at Wooyoung, and somehow, found his head tipping down ever so slightly, the vaguest semblance of a nod. And Wooyoung’s smirk grew, just before the hands on San’s hips pulled him forward, and he had no choice but to move into his lap, bending his legs astride Wooyoung’s thighs. He shivered as his big hands trailed up his sides, his t-shirt lifting a little with it. Wooyoung was so close, inches away as they stared at each other and the man looked down at his lips. The smell of him filled San’s lungs until he felt dizzy, and the firmness of the thighs he sat upon only made it worse. “Relax,” Wooyoung said softly, eyes flicking back up to meet San’s. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I’m really good, promise.” And as San’s breath stayed trapped in his throat, his eyes burning into the onyx ones before him, Wooyoung leaned closer and kissed him. It felt as odd as San remembered, little more than a strange pressure against his lips as his lashes fluttered shut. But then Wooyoung’s lips parted, sliding between his to capture his bottom lip, and San was quickly out of his element. He was far from breathing as he tried to follow the motions, his whole body feeling so very tingly as Wooyoung deepened the kiss further with every parting and reconnection. His hands moved, one staying on San’s hip, and the other sliding up and behind his neck, holding him in place as he exhaled into his mouth before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. San gasped a little as he felt his tongue slide in, Wooyoung’s lips immediately pulling into a smile before he repeated. And he melted as the man had his way with his mouth, sucking and adding in more tongue bit by bit. He had no idea what to do with his hands, but the longer he kissed him, the more he began to forget about caution, his fingers sliding up Wooyoung’s chest on their own until they settled on his shoulders. He couldn’t even hope to stop the moan that came when Wooyoung suddenly bit his bottom lip before running his tongue over it, just as the hand that had been holding his hip slid down to grab a handful of his ass and squeeze. “That’s it, doll,” Wooyoung hummed, pressing a soft, short kiss to his top lip and stroking his cheek with the thumb that had been holding his neck. “Let me hear you.” He positively shook as Wooyoung kissed him again, smirking against his lips. He was kissing Jung Wooyoung. The painfully beautiful man that he had been crushing over for months, very nearly obsessing over. And he was in his lap, making out with him. And Wooyoung was touching him, squeezing his ass as San panted into his mouth, a whine bubbling in his throat when he bit his lip again. It felt so good. So impossibly good to be touched by him, to be kissing him. He never wanted it to end. Even as he felt dizzy from a lack of air, he never wanted to stop kissing him. He moaned again as Wooyoung’s hand tangled into his hair, tugging ever so slightly as his own fingers trembled on the man’s shoulders. And he sighed as Wooyoung sucked at his lips again, humming against him. But his moan pitched up as the hand on his ass slid to the inside of his thigh, not high enough, but still too high. And then San was tensing, jerking a little in his lap as pulsing heat sank through his abdomen, as his boxers grew damp and he whimpered into Wooyoung’s mouth, as he felt so painfully good that he nearly cried. It had barely passed before Wooyoung was pulling back, eyes wide as he looked down between them, at the dark spot in San’s grey sweatpants. “Oh my god.” San’s shame was immediate, the embarrassment smacking him like a tidal wave. He came in his pants, just from being kissed. Just from Wooyoung touching his thigh. “N-no,” he panted, his throat burning and tears rapidly rising in his eyes, his face absolutely on fire. “No wait. I– I didn’t–“ “Holy fuck,” Wooyoung breathed, his lips pulling up at the corners. He was going to laugh at him. He was going to make fun of him. His crush. San had ruined everything. “I didn’t mean– I–“ he fumbled out, quickly moving to stand up. But Wooyoung’s hands stopped him fast. “Ah shh shh,” he shushed him, humming again and squeezing his waist where he had grabbed him to hold him in place, twinkling eyes looking over his red face. “Calm down, Sannie. It’s okay.” San shook his head, hands flying to cover his face, his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to see him anymore. “San,” Wooyoung sighed. “Look at me.” Another shake of his head. “Baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he told him, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You got all riled up, hmm? Nothing wrong with that.” San peeked out behind a finger, certain that the man must be making fun of him. “I mean it,” he said with a light laugh, before looking down his body and licking his lip. “It’s sexy as fuck, actually. God I bet you just come apart when someone actually touches you, don’t you?” San was going to explode with embarrassment. But…it really seemed like Wooyoung wasn’t shaming him. Teasing maybe, but not shaming. “Or is it just me?” He continued with a cocky smirk, looking back up to San’s face as he parted more of the fingers covering it. “Hmm? Wanted to fuck me so long that you couldn’t even hold it once you finally got a taste?” San didn’t even mean to whimper at the taunt. His throat betrayed him all on its own. And Wooyoung gave a soft laugh, his hands squeezing his waist one more time before moving up to grab San’s and pull them from his face to place a kiss to his newly exposed cheek. “It’s okay, doll. It can be our little secret.” He whispered, and San felt some of his embarrassment ebb immediately. “But I need you to tell me something, okay?” San looked over his face for any sign of falsity, any glimpse of proof that he was lying. But there was none. Wooyoung looked…patient, maybe even…fond? So he nodded slowly, speaking so quiet and small that the man would have missed it if it weren’t for the proximity. “Okay.” Wooyoung kissed his other cheek, his thumbs stroking the backs of his hands that he still held, before he asked his question softly. “Have you ever done anything with anyone before?” San tensed, every trace of his blush that had faded returning fast. And he quickly looked down, too ashamed to look at him and answer. “I…kissed someone…once.” “That’s all?” He nodded, wincing as Wooyoung hummed again. “I thought so.” The following silence was stifling, and San felt like he was suffocating waiting for Wooyoung’s reaction. Surely he would make fun of him this time. After all, it’s what he was used to. What kind of loser made it all the way to their senior year of university without sleeping with someone? “Let’s pause here tonight then, hmm?” Wooyoung finally said, making San look up, finding the man to look thoughtful. “And when you feel ready to do more, you come to me. Does that sound okay, doll?” His heart swooped, even as his nerves lit up with the fear that he didn’t really mean it. “I can?” And Wooyoung smiled deeper, a hand moving to cup his jaw again. “Of course you can, baby,” he confirmed, leaning in until his lips were ghosting San’s. “Actually, I insist that you do. There’s so much fun I wanna have with you.” San shivered, before sighing as Wooyoung kissed him again, just a little softer than how he did when they were making out. “Go on, baby,” he hummed after a near minute. “Go get cleaned up and get some rest.” He looked down between them, breath hitching as he realized for the first time how obviously hard the man was, a very prominent tent in his sweatpants. “But…what about…” A light laugh left him, and San looked up again. “Don’t worry about it for now, doll. Go on. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” San felt wrong leaving him like that when he got to cum, but he nodded anyway, standing carefully from his lap and stretching his cramped legs. He felt odd as he gathered his things, especially when Wooyoung took his phone from his hand to type his number into. Even more so when the man gave him another, lingering kiss at the door before opening it for him and sending him on his way. But the moment he got back to his own room, he was sinking to the floor in a fit of giggles, clutching his face and trying not to squeal over what just happened. And wishing he could see what was undoubtedly happening back in Jung Wooyoung’s room right now. *** “You what?!” It had only taken two minutes of being in the same room together the following day for Mingi to ask. Evidently, San hadn’t stopped grinning like a kid with a new puppy since the moment he woke up. According to Mingi, he was entirely too chipper, even by San standards. “When?” Mingi demanded, fully shocked. “Yesterday. In his room,” San shrugged, like it wasn’t near the massive, enormous deal to him that it actually was. It was all he had been thinking about since. He had even dreamed about it. Though, his dream went a little farther… “His room?” Mingi repeated, his voice pitching like San had just told him that he had been skipping all his classes or stealing to-go boxes from the cafeteria. “Yeah?” “You went to his room?” Mingi further clarified. “Yeah, to help him study,” San nodded, shifting his things around on his desk. “Jung Wooyoung.” “Yeah.” “And you just kissed a little?” He repeated San’s earlier words. “That’s what I said,” San shrugged again. Mingi definitely didn’t need to know about the stained pants and boxers in his hamper. That was his and Wooyoung’s secret, after all. “I don’t buy it,” Mingi finally said after a moment, his voice flat as he crossed his arms. And San didn’t really blame him, but it still stung a little. “Just because he’s out of my league doesn’t mean I don’t have a chance,” he mumbled. “He thinks I’m attractive. Maybe I don’t party, and I’m not popular like–“ “No no,” Mingi shook his head, waving a hand and clicking his tongue like San was being ridiculous. “Not that. I mean the guy doesn’t seem all that picky anyway, but no. I meant I don’t buy it because no one goes to Jung Wooyoung’s room just to kiss a little.” “Well that’s what happened,” San said, a little defensiveness creeping into his tone. “He’s kinda nice, actually. Clearly you don’t know him as well as you think you do.” “Oh my god,” Mingi marveled, before covering his mouth as he snorted a laugh. “You have a crush on him.” “No, I–“ “How did I not catch that? How long has this been going on? Oh my god! Is that why you wanted to go to that party with me last semester?” “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” San mumbled, standing and grabbing some clothes to take a shower. “Aww little Sannie has a crush,” Mingi cooed. “My boy is growing up!” “Go somewhere else.” “But then I can’t watch you smile over getting to kiss your heart’s greatest love.” “I want a new roommate.” *** It took longer than he thought it would, but honestly, he should have expected it. His nerves got the best of him every single time he picked up his phone. Part of him thought maybe Wooyoung would forget about him, or rather, lose interest in someone with absolutely no experience. After all, he was kind of known for engaging with a lot of people. What could San possibly do for him to satisfy him? Maybe it was those thoughts building over a few days that felt like weeks, or maybe it was how lonely it sounded to sit in this room one more night all by himself. Either way, San finally decided that honestly, he had nothing to lose. Other than his self respect, his ego, maybe his comfort, and possibly the chance of Jung Wooyoung ever seeing him as anything more than a naive nerd that could help him with his schoolwork.  
Wooyoung 💜
 
Hi Wooyoung, it’s San. I hope you’re not busy.
If you are, I’m sorry to bother you.
But you said to tell you when, so I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready. For more. Sexually. If that’s okay with you. Again, sorry to bother you if you’re busy. Or if you’re not interested anymore I understand. Just let me know, I guess. Thanks!
  San threw his phone down as soon as he hit send, embarrassment filling him fast. He should have typed something better. Something more nonchalant. Or should he have called him? Maybe Wooyoung didn’t like texting. What if he thought San was too aloof? Or did it actually come across clingy? Should he have waited longer to text him? His spiraling was diving deep until his phone suddenly chimed, and he was shaking as he snatched it back up.  
Wooyoung 💜
 
damnnn

im busy tonight baby

going to a party

sorry

unless you wanna wait up til i get back
  San’s heart sank. On one hand, he was relieved that Wooyoung still seemed interested. On the other… He had worked so hard to build up the courage to text him. And now, getting a practical no—because there was no way San would be able to stay up that late without accidentally falling asleep—was almost as crushing as Wooyoung ignoring him. Perhaps he should have taken a breath and just gotten over it, made plans for another night. But tonight, he was impatient. Tonight, he didn’t want to wait hours or days to feel like he did when he sat in Wooyoung’s lap and kissed him, felt his hands on him, heard his gentle words that wiped away his embarrassment.  
Wooyoung 💜
 
I could come? To the party, if you wanted. I just think I might fall asleep if I try to wait up 😅

If you don’t want me to though, that’s okay
 
oh hell yeah

thats perfect

see you there
 
Yay 😊 See you there!
  San dropped his phone and screamed into his pillow, kicking his feet so hard that his blanket fell to the floor. *** It took San forever to pick out an outfit. Eventually, he gave up and asked Mingi for help, which he would call a mistake after twenty minutes of being teased to hell and back for trying to impress his crush, but he actually did help him pick an outfit that San felt was probably appropriate for a college party. His stretchy top was tight fitted and sleeveless, leaving his shoulders and arms completely on display. Mingi had stated that it was best to show off his best assets, which apparently also included his “big ass” chest and “dorito” waistline. San wasn’t sure, but he trusted him, slipping on the fitted black slacks Mingi tossed at him. The party wasn’t far, just right off campus, so they chose to walk, the air a comfortable temperature even for the night. “So?” Mingi asked after a while. “Are you gonna sleep with him?” San tried not to choke on air. Honestly, he didn’t know. He had been thinking all day about what he wanted and what he was ready for, and he was worried that they were two different things. Because as much as he wanted to be with Wooyoung like that, to see him and touch him and be touched, he was already weak with fear at the thought, even without Wooyoung right in front of him trying to sleep with him. It was stupid, really. He knew he had nothing to be scared of. He had seen enough porn to know what to do and to expect, and he had touched himself enough to know that he would enjoy it, that the nerves would fade and turn to pleasure until he forgot them. But he was still scared. And he was even more afraid that either Wooyoung would get impatient and give up on him, or that he would pressure San into it, that he would be rude and demanding and uncaring for San’s need to ease into things. But the second part was ridiculous, and he knew it. Wooyoung had already shown himself to be the opposite. But no matter how much he knew that, his brain still argued that it could have all been a facade. “Maybe,” San finally answered, pursing his lips. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.” Mingi nodded beside him, walking with his hands in his baggy pockets. He was quiet for a minute, but when he spoke, San found himself almost pausing, his heart a little warmer than when they left the dorm. “Just don’t let him make you do anything you’re not ready for, okay? I’ll kick his ass if you need to get away. Just find me.” Sometimes San got strong reminders why Mingi had become his closest friend, even if they were so very different. As soon as they got to the party—some rich kid’s house with loud music and already far too many people for San’s liking—San was gratefully taking the shot that Mingi handed him. As much as he hated the taste, it was worth it if it even slightly took the edge off of his pounding nerves. He should have just made plans for another night. “Come on,” Mingi hollered over the music, pulling San through the crowd. “You can hang out with me until loverboy gets here.” San rolled his eyes at the nickname, but followed Mingi without protest. He ended up getting roped into beer pong again, but only when Mingi promised to drink all the cups for their team. San had no plans of getting fucked up and sick before Wooyoung even got here. “It’s good to see you again, Sannie,” Seonghwa greeted shortly after their game started, his boyfriend locked in. Mingi was also locked in, but apparently on Hongjoong’s tall teammate that San quickly recognized as Yunho. “It’s good to see you too, Seonghwa,” he smiled back. “You two come to a lot of these, huh?” “We do,” he nodded, and San froze for a second, glancing over at Hongjoong. He almost could have sworn that Seonghwa was…checking him out? “Um,” San paused, looking for something to say. “Well it’s not really my scene, but I guess I get the appeal.” “I’ve noticed,” Seonghwa laughed, pausing and waiting while San took his shot and missed, Hongjoong up next. “Mingi told me that you’d rather spend your time in the library or the gym.” “That’s right,” he nodded. “I’m not crazy about loud, packed places.” “I see,” Seonghwa hummed, and this time, San was certain the man was checking him out, especially when he stepped closer and spoke into his ear. “Would you rather go somewhere more quiet, Sannie?” It was odd, the sickening drop through his body as Seonghwa’s words registered. His eyes widened, and immediately snapped to Hongjoong. And though the man seemed focused on his turn, San noticed the subtle glances he took towards him and his boyfriend. Surely Seonghwa wouldn’t cheat openly like this? Surely this was a prank, a joke. Hongjoong was right there, looking. A soft laugh in his ear cut him off. “Have you never been invited to a threesome before, Sannie dear?” The way he choked on air was shameful, spluttering and coughing and grabbing the cup out of Mingi’s hand before he could drink it. He downed the whole thing, coughing again, but better able to breathe. “I guess that’s a no,” Seonghwa laughed. “I–“ San stammered, turning to face the man and nearly gasping at how close he was, how Seonghwa looked down at his lips. “Well…I’m flattered, but…well I–“ A loud shout cut him off, several people hollering some kind of cheer, and San looked towards the front of the house to see a group of people coming in. “Oh well,” Seonghwa sighed, his smile regretful, but understanding. “Some other time then.” And then he was walking away, back over to Hongjoong’s side. “You want his dick that bad huh?” San’s eyes snapped to Mingi, who was giving him a shit eating grin. “Excuse me?” Mingi just shook his head, shrugging. “I’ve never seen anyone pass up the opportunity to sleep with those two. Wooyoung must really have you wrapped around his finger.” San was prepared to argue, but he realized he had nothing to offer. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were both insanely beautiful. And San couldn’t blame anyone for tripping over their own feet for the opportunity to share their bed. But Mingi was right. San only had eyes for one man right now. And that man just so happened to be walking towards him. Or rather, towards the two men that had just invited him to a threesome. “You motherfuckers,” he hissed upon arriving, snatching a cup from Yunho’s hand. “You fucking left me!” “You were taking too long,” Hongjoong shrugged. “You’re an hour late.” “I’m fashionably on time,” Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at him, before his eyes caught San’s across the table, and San’s heart stopped as the man sent him a playful wink, looking him up and down. “It takes time to look this good.” “You’re late because you were busy fucking Felix in the science hall,” Yunho scoffed, taking his turn to throw that ball. But San wasn’t paying attention to the game anymore. He knew Felix, knew him pretty well in fact. They had several classes together last year, and San could picture his face well. And he could picture him with Wooyoung in the science hall. He could picture it all too well. “Um, I’ll be right back,” San rushed out, turning and walking away. “Dude!” Mingi hollered. “Yo! It’s your turn! Where are you going?” It was stupid how fast painful jealousy filled him. What did he expect, after all? He knew Wooyoung’s reputation, and it wasn’t like he felt anything for San. It was just making out, just a little whispered promise and an agreement to do more whenever San was ready. It wasn’t like he ever expected him to wait, or to change his ways, or to think of San how he thought of him. So why did it hurt? He tossed the shot back as soon as he got to the kitchen and poured it, hoping it would push him into a buzz. Maybe then at least he wouldn’t keep thinking about Wooyoung pressing Felix up against a wall, kissing and touching him how San longed to be touched. “Hey, baby.” He nearly dropped the shot glass as that voice hit his ear, and he turned fast to find Wooyoung behind him, looking down his body. “Pour me one?” San blinked several times before the words registered. “Oh,” he breathed. “Oh.” He turned back quickly, embarrassed at how much his hands shook as he poured the little glass full again, before turning once again to face Wooyoung, holding the shot up for him to take. But instead he watched through wide eyes as Wooyoung took a step forward, hands moving to cage him in against the kitchen island before pressing his lips to the rim of the glass and looking up at San. He barely managed to breathe as he tipped it back slowly, eyes catching on the little rivulet that escaped his lips and trailed down his chin as he took the shot. “Mmm,” Wooyoung hummed, smacking his lips a little when San finally pulled the glass away, wiping the drops from his chin with a thumb while his eyes stayed fixed on San, making him feel fidgety. “One more, baby.” San managed a nod, facing the counter once again to pour the next shot, but he froze when he felt Wooyoung’s body press against his from behind. “You look pretty tonight, doll,” he hummed in his ear, and San gasped as his hand moved to his waist, his knees nearly buckling when Wooyoung placed a light kiss to the back of his neck. He had no idea how he managed to pour the shot, but he barely set down the bottle before Wooyoung was taking the glass from his hand and tossing it back, then setting it back on the counter in front of them. “Come on.” San hitched a breath as Wooyoung grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the counter and the kitchen and back to the rest of the party in the living room. Any other time, San was sure that the thought that Wooyoung was leading him to an empty room to have his way with him would have filled him with excitement. But to be here with it actually happening, San just felt sick with nerves. Thankfully, he was instead shocked as Wooyoung passed the stairs and led him into the crowd. It was hot and sticky, and San wasn’t a fan of all the sweaty skin he felt sliding against his arms as they pushed through. But finally, they stopped in front of a couch, the crowd just a little thinner. “Move,” San heard Wooyoung say loudly, and he looked past him to see some guy sitting on the couch in front of him. The guy looked Wooyoung up and down, but just rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling the girl sitting beside him with him. San felt it was a little rude, but Wooyoung just plopped down in the spot he had been occupying. So San sat down next to him. “You okay, doll?” Wooyoung asked, leaning close to his ear so he could hear him over the music that was even louder over here. San nodded, giving him a soft smile and leaning in as well. “I don’t really like parties.” Wooyoung laughed, grinning wide. “Is that why you ran away earlier?” San stiffened, immediately thrown off and unsure how to answer. He couldn’t tell him the truth at least. “Uh…yeah,” he muttered, and he was almost certain it couldn’t even be heard. Wooyoung just stared at him, eyes trailing over his face. “So you came to a party you hate just to see me?” He filled in, smirking as San felt his face grow warm. “Yeah,” he muttered again, looking down. “You like me that much, doll?” San wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear rather than nod, but he did it anyway, eyes on his pants as he fiddled with the material. “How cute,” he heard Wooyoung say, before he was stiffening again as fingers grabbed his chin and turned his face up to meet his eyes again. He was certain his face was ten different shades of pink, and the amused look in Wooyoung’s eyes gave him no reason to doubt that. But he forgot his own embarrassment as Wooyoung leaned in and kissed him. San gasped against his lips, not expecting the affection at all. They were in the middle of the room. Sure, most people weren’t looking down from their standing eye level around them, but there were other people on the couches. And there were definitely plenty of people that would see it. “Relax, baby,” Wooyoung hummed, kissing his top lip and pulling away just an inch to look into his eyes with a cocky smile. “Or do you not want to kiss me?” San’s lips pulled into a frown immediately. Of course he wanted to kiss Wooyoung. Even though it felt weird to do it in the middle of everyone, he still hung on his minty breath fanning his face and his hand on his jaw. “Yeah?” Wooyoung asked when San made no move to pull away, and he nodded ever so slightly, just enough for Wooyoung to catch with another smirk before closing the small gap to kiss him again. And slowly, as Wooyoung parted his lips over and over, sucking on San’s before finally sliding his tongue in to join, San relaxed into it, sighing against his mouth and gripping his own thighs when his hands longed to touch. “So sweet,” Wooyoung exhaled into his mouth, before his hands began wandering down to San’s waist. It was just as perfect as the first time, their lips slotting together in a smooth rhythm that Wooyoung led, deepening it bit by bit so that San had plenty of time to sink into it. He tasted like mint toothpaste and vodka, and San had a thought that the combination really shouldn’t be so good. But he couldn’t get enough of it. And then San was gasping as the man was suddenly maneuvering him to sit in his lap, pulling him by the waist until San was straddling his thighs. And Wooyoung really didn’t give him much time to look at him in shock, because he was kissing him deeply once again. “Mmm you look so pretty tonight, baby,” he complimented again, this time with the words practically being swallowed down San’s throat as Wooyoung bit at his lips until he felt them swelling. “Did you dress up for me?” San made some noncommittal whine, hands finally finding a place on the man’s shoulders before he was gasping as Wooyoung’s moved to his ass, grabbing and squeezing then abandoning to slide up his sides along his waist. “I didn’t know nerds spend so much time in the gym,” he smirked against his lips. “Maybe I’ll come watch you next time. I love the taste of sweat when I’m fucking.” He gasped at the words, his pants getting even tighter. He wondered how Wooyoung could be so comfortable with talking dirty, if maybe experience made it easier. But San struggled to even form two words that didn’t make him burn up with embarrassment over the fact that he was in Jung Wooyoung’s lap in the middle of a party, hardcore making out for anyone to see and throbbing in his boxers. “Fuck you’re so cute,” he giggled, squeezing San’s waist, before San was gasping once again as he left his lips and began kissing along his jaw to the spot on his neck just below his ear. “Do you have any idea how much you turn me on, baby? I came so fast after you left the other night, just picturing your pretty face and sweet little moans when I touched you.” San sighed, a whine bubbling in his throat with the words and the way Wooyoung bit at his earlobe before sucking softly on the spot below it until his thighs were clenching. “Wooyoung’ah,” he finally managed to breathe, fingers fisting the man’s black silk button up. “Hmm?” He hummed, kissing the spot he had been latched onto a second before. “What do you want, baby? Can you tell me?” Fuck, San had no idea what he wanted. He knew what he should want. He should want to go somewhere private, or even step outside and cool off so he could think clearly. He should pause and remember the two shots and half a cup of beer he had tossed back and the light buzz that made everything just a little warmer. He should tell Wooyoung that he wanted to take things slow. But right now, he just wanted to keep kissing him. He wanted to keep touching him, and god did he want Wooyoung to keep touching him too. If he was being truthful, he wanted Wooyoung to touch him even more. And that was what he settled on. “More,” he exhaled, his face even warmer as Wooyoung pulled back enough to look over it, his eyes low as they met San’s. “Yeah, baby?” San nodded, sighing blissfully as Wooyoung kissed him again, hands sliding down to his hips and pulling him closer. “How about,” Wooyoung hummed against his lips between kisses, “you return the favor, and then I’ll give you anything you want, doll.” San frowned in confusion, pulling away enough to catch his eyes. “Return the favor?” He repeated. Wooyoung winked at him, before one of his hands moved to grab one of San’s and slid it down his chest. Right to the crotch of his baggy leather pants. San gasped against his lips, his heart beating triple time as he felt the substantial bulge beneath his fingers. He would have looked down at it, but then Wooyoung was kissing him again, his hand pressing San’s a little firmer against him. “You know how, yeah?” He smirked against his lips. “Just like touching your own, baby. Can you show me how you like it?” San shivered with the words, his cheeks on fire once again. But so was his stomach, and he could feel the dampness in his own boxers as he began to leak. So he squeezed a little, his heart stuttering at the hiss of air Wooyoung took in, the way he bit down on San’s lip like he hadn’t expected it. “Mmm yeah,” he sighed, his hand leaving San’s to move up and brush his hair out of his eyes like some gesture of fondness. “Like that, doll. Keep going.” San whined into the kiss as he palmed Wooyoung’s erection, feeling that bulge grow firmer and firmer. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, groping someone in the middle of a party on someone else’s couch, but it felt so good. Wooyoung’s sighs into his mouth tasted so perfect. And the way he looked at him when he pulled back made San dizzy. “My pretty doll,” he praised, stroking San’s cheek with a thumb. “Come on, baby. Take it out.” San’s eyes went wide this time, his lips parting in shock. “Wooyoung’ah.” “Don’t worry,” he grinned in that perfectly charming, carefree way, even prettier with his lips swollen from kissing. “No one can see, baby. Come on. Daddy wants to feel your cute little hand around him.” He gasped with the name, then almost forgot how to breathe when he realized that Wooyoung truly wasn’t joking. San couldn’t help but glance around them. The only other people on the couch were a couple on the other end who were also making out, clearly in their own world. As for the people standing and dancing around the sofa—San couldn’t be sure, but from what he could tell, it would be hard for them to see anything with San’s body in the way from how close he was to the man underneath him. “See?” Wooyoung hummed, his hand pulling San’s face to look at him again. “No one’s watching.” San chewed his lip, nerves so very heavy in his stomach. But Wooyoung was right, no one was looking, so there wasn’t really any real harm in it. Besides, he knew for a fact that there were people doing worse in the dark corners on the wall. This was just a little more…out in the open. “Yeah, fuck,” Wooyoung sighed, growing a little lax against the couch when San unbuttoned his pants and carefully reached his hand into his boxers. “That’s it, baby.” His heart was absolutely pounding as he felt the man’s heavy erection in his fingers, thick and warm. And when Wooyoung reached down to push his boxers out of the way, San tunnel visioned in the dim, flashing light, his eyes eating up every inch of his pink, veiny cock. It wasn’t insanely thick or long, rather it looked just right, like it would punch against and past that spot inside of him that his fingers always struggled to reach, like it would burn for a while before he got comfortable. But San wouldn’t mind, because he hoped it meant that Wooyoung would take his time burying his long fingers inside him to help it hurt less. God he wanted to know what it felt like. “Are you just gonna stare, doll? Or are you gonna show daddy how you use your hands?” San looked up at the teasing tone, the prideful smirk on Wooyoung’s face, then down once more to the pretty cock in his smaller hand. Then he squeezed a little, watching how the prominent, red head disappeared into his fist just like when he jerked himself off in the solitude of his room. Wooyoung’s hiss of breath and light groan made him look up again, and he found himself marveling at the sight of pleasure on the beautiful man’s face, at the way the veins on his neck jumped to rival the ones on his dick, at the way his brows pinched together a little before raising as San began to stroke him slow. The little growl that he gave as he leaned forward again and hungrily captured San’s lips had him moaning into the kiss, his hand setting up a memorized pace that he always enjoyed starting with. “Fuck, just like that, baby,” Wooyoung sighed, hands fully wandering San’s body now, squeezing his hips so that the pads of his fingers dug into his ass. It felt so odd to be touching him like this, to be touching anyone like this. But more than anything, it felt so damn good that for a moment, San worried that he was going to cum in his pants again before Wooyoung delivered on his end of the deal. Not that he would really mind, as long as he got to keep stroking his pretty cock and kissing his swollen lips and sucking on his wandering tongue and feeling his big hands squeezing his tight body. “God,” Wooyoung moaned, head falling back against the couch. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” San whined, following to keep kissing him, and settling for kissing the map of veins along his stretched neck. “Faster. Come on. Fuck make me cum, baby. Make daddy cum in your cute little hand.” He quickened the strokes of his hand, squeezing every time he reached his tip, whining again when he felt dampness touching his palm as he began to leak more. He gasped into Wooyoung’s neck when the man groaned and shoved his hands down into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, grabbing two handfuls of San’s ass and squeezing so hard that he worried he would leave bruises. “Fuck don’t stop, baby,” he moaned when San faltered with the action, quickly picking his pace back up when Wooyoung’s lips found the side of his head, little panted breaths getting lost in his black hair while San whimpered and whined against the man’s pulse point. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum. Oh fuck~” San nearly saw stars as Wooyoung quickly grabbed his fist, using the grip between them to cover his cockhead as he started coming, heady moans filling San’s ear while Wooyoung’s other hand dug its fingers into his asscheek. Between the feeling of splashing ribbons coating his palm and dripping down, and the moaned curses leaving Wooyoung’s lips, San had to reach down with his free hand and squeeze his own cock hard to stop himself from coming in his pants. As soon as Wooyoung stopped twitching in his hand, his lips were forcefully finding San’s again, kissing him so messily that he could feel spit escaping from the corners of his mouth while it was licked and sucked and bit raw. “Mmm my perfect little doll,” Wooyoung praised. “Made me feel so good. Come on, baby. Let’s go take care of that poor little cock before you have another accident.” San whined into the kiss, nearly chasing Wooyoung’s lips back when he pulled away. Instead, he watched while the man wiped his cum stained hand on the couch—which San felt was very rude, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care right now—and tucked himself back into his pants. In the meantime, San lifted his own hand, rubbing at the cum coating his fingers and pulling them apart to watch how the strings connected them together. And he didn’t really feel like anyone could blame him for being curious about how Jung Wooyoung’s cum tasted. The hand on his ass gripped tighter as he pressed two of his fingers into his mouth, pulling them free after sucking the salty, bitter drops off them. It wasn’t anything special, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t more than fascinated at the idea of Wooyoung finishing in his mouth instead of his fist. “Fuck.” He looked up at the curse, eyes catching on the downright filthy, hungry way that Wooyoung was staring at him, before he was gasping as the man leaned forward and kissed him hard and messy again, then pushed him up and pulled him along through the crowd. It was so quick that San nearly fell, stumbling a little on jelly legs that had cramped with the position. He was uncomfortably hard in his pants, the friction with every step nearly enough to make him scream, but Wooyoung just pulled him along, shoving through the crowd until he reached a staircase and tugging him up it. They had barely reached the empty bedroom before Wooyoung was shoving him up against the door, locking it with one hand while the other was pushing up the front of his tight, stretchy shirt to feel his abs beneath. He kissed him hot and rough, leaving San to moan and whimper, legs shaking with how painfully aroused he was. “Mmm so good for me, doll. Look how long my baby’s lasted,” he breathed into his mouth before kissing down his neck. “Can you hold on a little longer for me? Hmm? Daddy wants to show you just how good you can feel.” San moaned as he sucked on his neck, nodding his head when words failed him as he concentrated hard on not coming early. It got so much more difficult when Wooyoung dropped to his knees in front of him, pushing his shirt up. He positively shook as the man kissed the light trail of hair that ran down to his waistband, before licking a long, hot stripe up, over his navel and between his abs. “Mmm,” Wooyoung hummed. “God I need you after your next workout. I’ll lick you head to toe, baby. We’ll see how long you can hold out then.” “Wooyoung’ah,” he whined, his dick positively aching at this point as hands held his thighs either side of where he wanted them most. “Ah ah,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, before San was gasping as he undid his button and zipper and promptly tugged his pants down, his boxers sliding with them. “Call me daddy, angel.” San’s head smacked back hard against the door as this time, the man’s pink tongue ran up the underside of his flushed, leaking cock. It would have been embarrassing how hard he was before he had been touched, or how his tip dripped a long string of precum from finally being attended to, but he was too busy trying not to collapse when the string fell across Wooyoung’s cheek. “Mmm yeah, my poor little doll is just a faucet hmm?” He teased, swiping the dribble off his face and licking it from his thumb before making San jump as he grabbed his cock. “Gonna blow your load down daddy’s throat?” “Oh my god,” San choked out as Wooyoung finally took him in his mouth. His hands were lost for what to grab, settling for wrapping around himself in a hug, and his legs barely held him up as Wooyoung sucked around his tip before beginning to bob his head. San was melting, burning alive. Every inch of his body was turning to goo, his mind a useless chant of the fact that Jung Wooyoung was sucking his cock, and how hot and wet and squishy his mouth was, how sinfully his tongue licked and slurped at him. He lost control of his own voice, moaning and whimpering and mewling, pitiful cries tumbling from his lips as he hugged himself tighter, as the room spun and all he could feel was Wooyoung’s hands reaching around to grab his ass, fingers dipping between his cheeks until he was choking on a sob when he felt one of them press his hole, pushing and rubbing just shy of dipping in. All it took was about sixty seconds—if that—and a single gag of Wooyoung’s throat against him him as he took the whole of his dick in his mouth, curved nose buried in his trimmed patch of hair there, and San was shaking. “Daddy,” he sobbed, head smacking back even harder against the door. “Cum– I’m cum– fuck ‘m cum- cumming!” Wooyoung moaned around him just before San jerked in his hold, crying out pathetically, voice pitched and whiny as he exploded with pleasure, his cock hot and pulsing on the man’s tongue as Wooyoung moaned again and slurped up every drop, massaging his rim as he came. He had barely finished, Wooyoung giving him another suck and making him jerk with oversensitivity then pulling off with a pop, before he was sinking down the door, his legs finally giving out. “Shh shh, I know,” Wooyoung cooed as San panted, soft whines bubbling in his throat as the man sat beside him and pulled him into his hold. “My pretty, yummy little doll. You did so good for daddy.” San didn’t know what to say or do. He had never felt this weak after an orgasm. His mind was like soup, his body no different, and Wooyoung’s arms felt so, so very warm and comfortable. “Did it feel good, baby?” He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and San nodded with a soft noise as he buried his face into the man’s neck. “Mmm I’m glad. I had a lot of fun.” It made San happy to know. And relieved. He had been so worried that he wouldn’t be able to give Wooyoung any satisfaction, but he was fairly certain that he had done enough. Maybe it wasn’t anything notable for the experienced man, but as long as he at least had a good time, San was happy. San wasn’t sure how long they sat there for, but his head felt just a little less foggy when he finally managed to pull away, just to sigh blissfully when Wooyoung kissed him softly again. “You okay, angel?” He asked gently, and San nodded his head again. “Just sleepy,” he said, a yawn immediately following to prove it. Wooyoung made a humming sound, his eyes trailing over his face before he reached up to brush San’s sweaty bangs back just as he had done earlier on the couch. “Did you drive here?” “Mm mm,” he shook his head, leaning back against the door and shutting his eyes to rest them for a moment. “We walked.” Wooyoung made another humming sound, before San’s eyes were opening again when he heard him stand, just to land on the hand stretched out in front of him. “Come on. I’ll drive you back to your dorm.” *** San had tried to argue, but Wooyoung just insisted. “You’re in no shape to walk back, and if you stay here you’re just gonna end up falling asleep,” he had told him while San pulled his pants back up. “It’ll take like ten minutes to drop you off and come back.” Once San was certain he wasn’t going to win the argument—as he didn’t have the energy to try—and that he wasn’t ruining the rest of the man’s night, he agreed, following Wooyoung downstairs and out of the house. Now, he sat in the passenger seat of his surprisingly nice car. San didn’t know much about vehicles, but he could tell it must be expensive. And he said as much, to which Wooyoung shrugged. “My dad got it for me when I started uni,” he hummed. “Back when it was a longer drive home.” San frowned, trying to figure out the sentence. “This is your first year here, right?” He asked, remembering Mingi mentioning something about him being new to their school. “Mhmm,” he nodded, turning when the light changed. San thought he looked extra pretty like this, the dim lights of the night casting shadows across his face, his messy hair pushed back. “I transferred from the University of Arts.” “Oh?” San sat a little straighter. “How come?” “You’re smart enough to guess,” he sighed, glancing at San before shrugging again. “I flunked out. I was on my last straw with my dad, and he never really wanted me to pursue dance anyway so…here we are.” “He made you transfer?” San filled in the rest. “Mhmm,” he nodded again. “Now I’m supposed to be studying business or some bullshit and keeping my grades up or I’ll get grounded. In college. Crazy. I don’t know. Eventually I’ll start working at his company. A perfectly boring life.” San hummed, trying to understand the feeling. “It must be nice to not have to worry about money, though,” he said after a while, watching the road ahead. “At least you can go on trips and stuff, even if you end up stuck in a job you didn’t choose.” “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Wooyoung agreed. “I think there’s more important things than money and trips and shit though.” “Like dance?” San circled back. “Sure,” he acknowledged, before glancing over at San with a little smirk. “And fun things like making pretty men cry.” San quickly looked back to the road. “Oh,” he whispered. Wooyoung just giggled, and San tensed a little when his hand moved to his thigh. But he relaxed when it didn’t move any higher, simply resting, warm and comforting to San’s sleepy mind. “What about you?” Wooyoung asked. “Any plans for after college?” “Mmm,” San hummed, tapping his other thigh. “Nothing crazy. I just want to find a good job that pays well…so I can support my mom and my sister.” San felt Wooyoung’s eyes on him for a few seconds, but he stayed looking ahead at the road. “That’s sweet,” he finally said. “How old is your sister?” “She’s seven,” San smiled as he thought of her. “She’s very rambunctious. And she’s always had a bit of an attitude. But she’s the sweetest, best kid in the world.” “Cute,” Wooyoung said, the smile clear in his voice. “Well Sannie, maybe I’ll just make my dad hire you at his boring company.” San looked over fast, his eyes wide, but Wooyoung just wore a devious grin. “Wooyoung’ah.” “I always wanted to know what it’s like to give a blowjob under an office desk,” he hummed in thought, and San nearly choked on his own spit, his cheeks flushing fast. Of course he was just teasing. He stopped in front of the dorm only a few seconds later, but when San tried to thank him and say goodbye, Wooyoung only shook his head, getting out of the car and walking around. San tried to open his door, but he barely cracked it an inch before Wooyoung was shutting it back, just to open it for him. “Chivalry is important,” he shrugged when San eyed him in confusion. “You gave me a great time tonight. The least I can do is open your door.” San felt like he had already more than repaid him, but he didn’t argue as he got out of the car. “Thank you, for driving me,” he said as he stood, only to blush when Wooyoung backed him up against the closed car door, his hands moving to San’s hips. “You’re welcome, doll,” he smiled. “Thank you for jerking me off.” San was fairly certain his cheeks were going to be permanently pink at this point. He didn’t have time to think of how to address the words of gratitude though, because Wooyoung was already leaning forward to kiss him. And San was a little surprised at how soft and delicate it was, a gentle kiss that nearly made him sigh, his shoulders relaxing. “Text me soon, baby,” he told him, pulling away with a kiss to his cheek. “Or call. Whenever you’re ready, yeah?” “Yeah,” San nodded, some part of his heart cracking a little, even as the rest of it felt warm. “Soon.” Wooyoung smiled, leaning in to place one last kiss on his lips before stepping back. “Goodnight, Sannie.” “Goodnight, Wooyoung’ah.” *** San had struggled to fall asleep that night despite how exhausted he was. Instead, he had laid awake for well over an hour, staring at the ceiling and remembering every single second of the night, from the moment Wooyoung caged him against the counter to their conversation in the car. As well as the mention of what he had been doing before he got to the party. And he spent some time wondering what he would do when he went back to the party. It wasn’t fair for San to feel anything other than indifferent. He knew what he was agreeing to when he texted Wooyoung, when he kissed him that day in his room. He knew what he had heard about the man and what he had seen himself. He had no right to be jealous. And yet he was. Sickeningly, disgustingly, bitterly jealous. In his head, he played that night over, imagining Wooyoung walking him up with him to his room and crawling into bed with him, holding him until they fell asleep together. Giving him soft kisses on his face and whispering beneath the covers until the late hours of the night. But it would never happen, and San needed to get over it. He liked being intimate with Wooyoung. He liked how the man touched him, how he talked to him, how he seemed to understand San’s hesitations and moments of embarrassment and just somehow knew exactly what to do and say to make him comfortable again. He didn’t want to lose that just because his feelings were getting too deep. It was just his dumb crush getting out of control. And if he focused hard enough, he could get over it. And he could be happy with the affection and moments that Wooyoung gave him.  
*** POV CHANGE ***
  “Jung Wooyoung. Don’t tell me you’re whipped?” The disgusted, offended gasp that filled the speaker made the man roll his eyes. 
“How dare you? Do you know who you’re talking to?”
 “I did just say your name,” he scoffed, shaking his head at the man watching him in amusement. “I’m not whipped,” he said bitterly. “I told you, I’m fascinated. There’s a difference.” “You literally stood Felix up the night of the party as soon as your little nerd texted you,” he argued. 
“How do you even know that?”
 “Hyunjin told me. Apparently Felix was upset.” 
“I told him we were just hooking up.”
 “Did you tell your nerd that too? Or is he a special case?” “Oh shut up,” Wooyoung groaned. “I’m just saying, he’s extra interesting right now. Shit you should see the faces he pulls and the little sounds he makes, then you’d understand.” “Don’t be gross.” 
“I’m not! I’m appreciating fine art.”
 “You’re disgusting. And you definitely like him,” he said without a shadow of a doubt. 
“I don’t. You’re crazy.”
 “Oh yeah? Who else have you slept with since the party?” There was a brief pause. 
“Yeonjun.”
 “Yeonjun is out of town visiting his parents.” 
“Soobin then.”
 “Soobin went with him. Didn’t you hear? They’re dating now.” 
“Oh? No kidding.”
 “You like him.” 
“I do not.”
 He looked up again to roll his eyes at his boyfriend across the table, just to still when something else caught his eye. “Oh wow.” 
“What?”
 “You’ll never guess who just walked into the coffee shop.” 
“Is it Yeonjun? Told you I fucked him.”
 “No,” he snorted, looking the man up and down as he pushed his glasses up and read the menu while he waited in line. “You haven’t fucked this one yet.” 
“You’re joking.”
 “Should I say hi for you?” 
“Yeosang. Don’t you fucking dare.”
  
*** POV CHANGE ***

“Hi, it’s San, right?” San turned around at the deep voice, surprised to find Yeosang standing behind him. “Oh, hi Yeosang,” he smiled. “Yeah, that’s me.” “I saw you come in,” he gestured to the door, his smile soft and warm. “I’m here studying with my boyfriend.” “I see,” San returned, dipping his head to the man sitting at the table a few feet away. “I prefer the library. It’s quieter. But it’s nice in here.” “It is,” Yeosang agreed. “Is that where you’re headed?” “Yeah, I have a test in economics tomorrow.” “Yikes,” Yeosang hummed. “So do I. Wooyoung does too. But of course, he didn’t come with us to study today, since he would rather study with you.” San frowned in confusion. “Sorry?” Yeosang’s eyebrows pulled together, his head cocking to the side. “He said you have plans to study later today. Do you not?” San was taken aback. He never made plans with Wooyoung. In fact, he had spent the last five days working up the courage to text him again after the party, but he hadn’t found the nerve yet. He would definitely remember making plans to be in the same room as him. “Um…I guess he…hasn’t mentioned them to me yet?” He tried, unsure of where the miscommunication came in. “Oh, he must have forgotten,” Yeosang said, hand covering his mouth for a moment. “You should text him. I’m sure he’s expecting you. It’s a really important test, so I hope you can help him study.” “Oh, okay. Um, thanks, Yeosang,” San fumbled out. “Of course! Bye, San!” San watched him as he returned to his table before turning back to realize that he was already next in line. An important test? Why hadn’t Wooyoung mentioned it? Did he really forget, or did he never plan on texting him for help? Maybe he felt weird asking San to tutor him with their current…situation happening. But that was silly. San knew his grades were important to him, so they were important to San too. He should graduate well and on time. Besides, what if he failed and his dad grounded him and then San never got to see him again? He pulled his phone out the second he finished spitting out his order to the barista behind the counter and paying.  
Wooyoungie 💜
 
Hi Wooyoung! It’s San again. I heard you have an important test tomorrow. Do you need help studying? I wouldn’t mind at all. I’m not doing anything later. I would love to help! Just let me know 😊
  San clicked his phone off and waited for his coffee, thanking the barista and waving goodbye to Yeosang and Jongho to head to the library. He was only a few feet away when his phone started buzzing, and he nearly dropped his coffee and tripped over his own feet when he saw the caller ID. “Hello?” He breathed when he finally managed to press the answer button. 
“Who told you I have a test? Was it Yeosang?”
 San’s eyes widened at the sudden questions, and at the accusatory tone in his voice. “Um, yeah? I ran into him at the coffee shop,” he muttered, suddenly worried he had overstepped somehow. “Slimy little bitch,” Wooyoung hissed, a few curse words and the sound of aggressive tapping on his phone hitting San’s ear. “So…you don’t want help studying?” The line was silent for a moment. “I didn’t say that,” Wooyoung finally spoke, his voice smooth again. “I’d love for you to come help me study, doll. I’ve been waiting to hear from you, you know?” San’s heart leapt, before he paused to remind himself of who he was speaking to. He didn’t mean it. He was just flattering him. “Sorry, I’ve been busy,” San hummed. “When should I come over?” 
“How’s five?”
 “That’s perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll see you then, Wooyoungie.” 
“See you then, doll. Make sure you bring a change of clothes.”
 “A–“ San faltered, his eyes going wide. “Wooyoung’ah, I didn’t…we really do need to study. Your grades are important, remember?” “Yeah yeah, just be at my door at five,” Wooyoung sighed, the smile clear in his voice. “So we can ‘study.’” “Wooyoung.” But the line went dead before San could insist that he wasn’t kidding around. Oh well. Wooyoung would just have to get over it when San refused to do anything but help him prepare for his test. Well…whatever he wanted to do after they were done studying would be fine. But his grades had to come first. After all, he had told San himself that his dad was strict. He shouldn’t fail again, especially if it would land him deep in trouble. San would make sure he passed. They would just study, and then whatever happened after was up to them. But that didn’t mean that San didn’t spend the next few hours imagining all of the things that could happen, working himself into anxious nerves. If he thought too hard, he would create a problem for himself, but he could still visualize Wooyoung in his hand, and imagine how he would feel inside of him, how he would touch him and speak to him while he was. The mood was brought down, however, every time he remembered what would happen after, how he would dress again and leave the man’s room to return to his own, alone as he laid in his bed to fall asleep. *** Wooyoung opened the door shortly after San knocked, and San smiled as he took in his soft appearance in his joggers and t-shirt, his hair messy like he had been napping. “How many books did you bring?” Wooyoung raised a brow at the stack in San’s arms, making the man look down at them. “Well I came from the library, and I figured you probably have some other assignments to catch up on, so I just thought…” he trailed off, shifting on his feet a little. Actually, he had stopped in his room and showered like he had never showered before and put on lotions to make his skin soft and made sure he looked as effortless and nice as possible. But Wooyoung didn’t need to know that. “Cute,” Wooyoung hummed. “Come in, baby. We can study on my bed.” San walked in to find the room a little cleaner than the last time he was here, the desk free of empty snack bags. He set his books down atop it with his bag following, and began to dig through it to find his notebook. “I was thinking we could start with–“ He paused when Wooyoung’s hands slid around his waist, holding his hips as the warmth of his body grazed his back. “With?” Wooyoung pressed, and San cleared his throat. “Oh. Um, start with studying for your test, and then maybe take a break to work on some–“ His breath hitched when lips pressed the back of his neck, trailing over the skin above his t-shirt collar. “Hmm?” “Your assignments,” San forced, loosening his grip when he realized he was bending his notebook. “Take a break to work on your as-assignments. Then…study…then…” His hands were sliding up his front as he started sucking on his neck, leaving San to gasp as his long fingers came to his chest. He jumped the moment those fingers squeezed. “Wooyoung’ah,” he said with as much firmness as he could muster. “We have to study.” “I’m trying to study something right now,” he exhaled over his neck, making San shiver. “You’re not being fair,” San whined, lips pouting. “You know I’m sensitive. Please. I want you to pass your test.” Wooyoung let out a rough sigh, placing one last kiss to his neck and giving his chest one more firm squeeze before stepping back. San turned while he hopped on the bed, leaning back on his hands and blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “Whatever, teacher,” he rolled his eyes, and San let out a breath of relief as he gathered the things he needed for now and sat down on the bed beside him. “It’s really lucky we have the same teacher for economics,” San stated as he started laying some things out. “I already have a study guide made and everything.” “Yippee.” Studying went just about as well as any type of schoolwork with Wooyoung. The man was easily distracted, whether it was his phone or the pictures in the book or some random thought that came to him, or—worst of all—commenting on San’s body or trying to touch some part of him. San had always been a patient man. He worked hard for the things he wanted, and he knew that sometimes, rewards didn’t always come right away. Wooyoung made him forget that. Wooyoung made him want every reward right away. Especially when his hand kept “innocently” holding his thigh when he leaned in so he could “see better.” Or when his eyes kept dragging over him like he was undressing every layer and imagining what it would be like to have his way with him. Or when he was saying things like, “Your arms look bigger today. Did you go to the gym without me? I told you I wanted to lick you.” By the time they came to a stopping point, San was near working up a sweat again just from how hard he was trying to stay focused. But Wooyoung just looked so soft and pretty. And San couldn’t help but to keep thinking about the last time they were on this bed together, and what it would be like later when Wooyoung started kissing him again. And every time the man grabbed his thigh, San couldn’t stop himself from looking at his long fingers, at the way they widened at the knuckles, and he wondered what they would feel like pushing into him. They had barely started working on his overdue assignments before it happened. San had taken the computer back after Wooyoung submitted the quiz that he definitely took all on his own without any help, and was scrolling to pull up his next quiz, when Wooyoung leaned in and started kissing up his neck. He tried to stay focused, but his fingers were shaking on the keypad and his eyes were seeing nothing on the screen. All he could think about was how Wooyoung’s plump lips felt dragging over his neck. “Wooyoung’ah,” he breathed, gasping when the man suddenly nipped at his skin. “We’re…supposed to…we’re studying.” “We’ve been studying for over an hour, teacher,” he argued nonchalantly, like San’s response didn’t really matter. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward?” “But your assignments,” he pushed, but his voice turned to a whine when Wooyoung started sucking on his pulse. “Wooyoungie.” “What did I tell you, baby?” He hummed. “Call me daddy when I’m touching you.” “But,” San tried to argue again, but instead he was moaning as Wooyoung’s fingers moved back to his chest, grabbing and squeezing then pinching his nipple. “Oh!” He sighed as Wooyoung’s mouth found his, wasting no time in kissing him deeply while he squeezed his chest. San quickly forgot about the importance of school and good grades, melting into his touches. “Mmm we can study after, okay baby?” He offered, pulling the computer from San’s lap and tossing it to the side to take its place, straddling his thighs. “Right now I wanna taste my pretty little doll.” San hummed in agreement as Wooyoung licked into his mouth, both hands working his swollen chest now, while San’s slid to hold his waist. “God I bet I could fuck your tits,” he speculated, San shivering at the rude grip of his fingers. “So fucking puffy. Are you sensitive, baby?” San whined when his fingers pressed his nipples, brushing and rubbing and pinching until he was practically shaking. “I guess so,” Wooyoung smirked. “I bet I could make you cum just from fucking your pretty tits and playing with your nipples.” San flushed with embarrassment at the teasing, because honestly, he was probably right. As it was, he was already aching in his boxers, whimpering as the man ravished his mouth and played with his chest. “Do you wanna find out, baby? Hmm? Wanna let daddy cum on your pretty tits?” He asked, one hand sliding up to cradle the side of San’s neck, then up further to tangle into his hair. And San almost said yes, because god it sounded so good. He could picture it now, his small hands squeezing his pecs together for Wooyoung’s veiny cock to slide between, the way his tip would peek out with every stroke, how his cum would splatter San’s face and maybe even land in his mouth when he finished. Maybe if he held on long enough, Wooyoung would even suck him off again. But…that wasn’t what he wanted tonight. Tonight, he had built himself up for more, spent days mentally preparing. And he worried that if he didn’t do it now, he would only keep putting it off until Wooyoung got bored with him. He was ready, and he wanted it. “No?” Wooyoung asked when San shook his head, pulling away to look over the blushing man’s face. “You want something else, baby?” San looked down, embarrassment filling him so fast it nearly left him dizzy. Just because he was mentally prepared, didn’t mean that he knew how to voice it out loud. “I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what you want, baby,” Wooyoung sighed, hand moving back down to the side of his neck. “Do you want me to blow you again?” “No,” he shook his head, chewing his lip and glancing up, before looking back down quickly again. “I want…you.” “You’ve got me,” he tilted his head to the side, before his eyebrows shot up when San glanced at him again. “You want me to fuck you?” San didn’t think he could blush any more, but apparently he was wrong. At least he didn’t have to say it out loud. “Yeah,” he mumbled, fingers fiddling with Wooyoung’s t-shirt. “I’m ready.” “Yeah?” Wooyoung smirked, his thumb brushing his jaw while his other hand squeezed his waist. “Then say it.” San’s eyes went wide. “Say…” “Say you want daddy to fuck you, angel,” he instructed, his head tilting back a little in some cocky gesture of waiting. “And I will.” “Wooyoungie,” he pouted, but he hissed in a breath when he suddenly smacked his hip. Not hard or painful, but enough to startle him. “I’d love to fuck you, baby,” Wooyoung sighed. “I’ve thought about it a lot actually, but I can’t just give you whatever you want when you can’t even follow my rules, can I?” San could have argued that he was one to talk, that the very reason they were in this situation was because Wooyoung couldn’t follow his plan for their study session. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to do anything that risked Wooyoung deciding not to sleep with him. He needed it, him. He needed to know what it felt like, how he looked in the moment, how he would speak to him as he came undone. “Wantdaddytofuckme,” he mumbled, not even loud enough to be a whisper. “Hmm? I can’t hear you, baby. Be a good boy and speak up.” San whined in frustration, his pouting face doing absolutely nothing to sway the man. He huffed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I want daddy to fuck me.” The pleased hum that followed made him feel like he was exploding with shame, but then both of Wooyoung’s hands were moving up to cradle his face, thumbs brushing over San’s eyelids so that he opened them to meet his stare. “It would be my pleasure,” he smirked. And finally, he was kissing him again. It started a little slower this time, but San didn’t mind. His nerves were growing again, and the moments to relax under softer kisses and the warm hands on his neck were a relief. His own chubbier fingers settled on the man’s waist, enjoying the way he could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the thin material. “If you wanna stop, tell me, okay?” The words were spoken against San’s jaw as the man began kissing down to his neck before seeming to abandon the task as soon as San said okay, his mouth immediately returning to kiss him much harder. San sighed as his hands pushed up under his shirt, running up his sides and leaving goosebumps in their wake, before Wooyoung was pulling away to tug the material up and off of him. “Fuck you’re so pretty,” he bit his lip, eyes running down his naked torso. “Tiny little waist.” He moaned as Wooyoung kissed him again and licked into his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt tight while Wooyoung’s traversed his newly exposed skin, returning to his chest often like he couldn’t touch it enough. “Come on, baby,” he hummed, placed stilted kisses on San’s swollen lips after a few minutes of sloppy sucking and nipping and hands groping. “Lay down for me.” San let himself be maneuvered sideways and back, laying down while Wooyoung followed, kissing down his neck. And the sight of his perky ass poking up as he straddled him was too much to resist, so San didn’t stop his hands from reaching up to grab and squeeze. “Mmm fuck yeah,” Wooyoung encouraged around a grin against his skin. “Touch me, baby. Show daddy how bad you want it.” His eyes fluttered as Wooyoung sucked on his neck, no doubt leaving a deep bruise, and focused on the feeling of his firm but plump ass in his hold, squeezing and rubbing and wishing his sweatpants weren’t in the way so he could feel him better. He lost his grip when the man slid down his body further, and he nearly protested. But then he was breaking off in a moan as Wooyoung wrapped his lips around a nipple and started slurping, his cold fingers pinching the other until San was squirming. “Are you already leaking, baby?” He smirked, looking up as he licked over the reddened bud. “Gonna cum before daddy gets inside your tight little ass?” San only whined, shaking his head, but honestly, if Wooyoung kept teasing him like this, he very well might. “Come on, angel,” he sighed. “My little doll has too pretty of a voice to be holding it back. Tell me what you want.” San whined again, his hand splayed across the man’s lower back, hating how covered he still was. “Your shirt,” he finally managed, lips pulling in a pout. “Can…can you take it off?” “Of course, baby. Good job.” Wooyoung smiled with so much pride that San nearly blushed further at the happiness it filled him with. He liked making Wooyoung proud. He liked it even more when Wooyoung sat up and pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor to join his. San’s eyes ate up the new skin, skin he had never seen before. Wooyoung never posted shirtless pictures on his social media, and other than the deeply cut shirts that showed off peeks of his torso, San could only imagine what his body looked like. He felt like crying at how pretty he was. His arms were well defined up to his shoulders, his chest nearly flat but ever so slightly pronounced, but San’s eyes zoned in on the little bit of plumpness on his stomach and hips. And he wanted so badly to feel it under his hands. But Wooyoung was already back to kissing down his body, giving San no time to appreciate. Instead, he seemed intent on appreciating San’s naked torso, licking up his abs and digging his fingers into his waist and hips. And San could only whine and squirm, before gasping as he felt those fingers hook into his pants and slowly slide them down, leaving him in only his tight boxers as Wooyoung pulled them off his legs and tossed them somewhere on the floor. “You okay, angel?” San met his eyes, and he relaxed at the softness in them. “Mhmm,” he nodded. “I’m okay.” Wooyoung gave him a smile, placing a soft kiss on his stomach before returning to his task. And his task had San writhing, eyes rolling back as the man suddenly palmed him through his boxers, kissing over his hipbone like he wasn’t about to push him right over the edge. It only took a few squeezes for San to break. “Wooyo– daddy please,” he whined, biting his lip so hard he nearly drew blood. “St-stop I–I’m gonna cum.” “Mm,” Wooyoung hummed, giving him one more squeeze before pulling his hand away. But San was devastated as he pulled his boxers down and took his throbbing cock in his hand. “Do it then.” He cried out as Wooyoung suddenly wrapped his lips around him, sucking hard on his tip and quickly working his hand. It barely took a few seconds before he was seizing up, crying loud as he started coming in his mouth. Wooyoung just moaned around him, jerking him through it until he was spasming with oversensitivity. “Mmm, good boy,” he praised after pulling off with a pop, wiping his lips and placing another kiss on San’s tummy. “Relax now, angel. Daddy’s gonna get you ready, okay?” San made some noncommittal noise, his head foggy as he felt Wooyoung pull his boxers off the rest of the way. He glanced down only when he heard him rummaging through the desk drawer beside his bed, pulling out a bottle and a little foil packet. “I’m clean,” he told him when he came back between his legs. “But if you want, I’ll use a condom.“ San looked over his face, then shook his head. He’d never say it out loud, but he had jerked off several times to the thought of being creampied by the stunning man. And the last thing he wanted was to pass up on the opportunity. “Good,” Wooyoung winked. “I was gonna be a little sad if I couldn’t watch my cum drip out of you.” San breathed in sharply with the words, already feeling warm again, and he watched while Wooyoung set the bottle down beside them and tossed the condom away somewhere. “Roll over for me, baby, ass up,” he told him, and San obeyed, pressing his face into the mattress to hide his flushed cheeks as he felt Wooyoung staring all over him. Then he was jumping as a soft smack landed on his ass, followed by a firmly rubbing grip. “Cute little ass. You’re gonna look so pretty all glazed up.” San wanted to protest out of embarrassment, but all he could do was moan as his rude fingers gripped his cheeks and pulled them apart before a hot, wet tongue was sliding over his rim. He grabbed the sheets as Wooyoung hummed, then fully buried his face in San’s ass and began licking heavy at his hole, tongue poking and pressing and running over until San shaking with anticipation. “Fuck you’re gonna look so good on my dick,” Wooyoung groaned against him, and if San had eyes in the back of his head, he would see how the man had reached into his own pants to stroke his aching cock. As it was, he left San to whimper blindly as his tongue started pushing inside of him, coaxing him open a little at a time before he was pulling away to spit on his fluttering rim. “That’s it. Keep relaxing for me, baby.” San heard the click of a cap before he felt the bottle drop back to the bed, then he was hissing in air as Wooyoung’s long, lubed up finger pushed inside of him. “Yeah, just like that, angel,” he praised, moving up to kiss along his spine, his other hand on the mattress below San’s arm to support himself as he hovered over him and worked his finger in and out. “Have you ever touched yourself like this, doll?” San whimpered, nodding his head. “Couple times.” “Yeah? How’d it feel?” He just shook his head a little this time. “Can’t reach.” “Aw,” Wooyoung cooed. “My poor little doll’s fingers can’t reach his prostate?” He whined at his teasing, before he was tensing up and moaning loud as Wooyoung pushed against that very spot inside of him, smirking against San’s back while he prodded at it over and over. “Tell me, baby,” he hummed. “Tell daddy how it feels.” “Fe– mmm feels good.” “Yeah? You want another?” The burn was gone, so San nodded, muttering a “please” and moaning as Wooyoung pulled the digit out before sliding in two this time. It felt so strange to have him touching him like this, but it also felt so painfully good that he could hardly even register that oddness. He felt light and floaty but also like he was already burning up, and he could feel his dick starting to twitch to life again. He knew it would only take a few more minutes before he was starting to get hard again. Wooyoung worked him open with care, seeming in no rush at all as he scissored and curled his fingers, like he was enjoying playing with San’s hole and watching how he squirmed and whined. By the time San had adjusted to three, his knuckles were aching from gripping the sheets so tight, his cock starting to pulse against the mattress. “Daddy,” he whimpered. “Daddy I want it. Want it.” “Yeah? You want daddy’s cock?” He nodded with another pitiful sound, sighing as Wooyoung peppered kisses along his spine before pulling away. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He made him promise as San listened to the shuffling of clothes being pulled off followed by the slick sounds of lube on skin before his felt the man crawl over him again and press kisses to his shoulder. “Ready, baby?” “Mhmm,” he hummed, his stomach tensing when he felt his slick cockhead slide over his rim. Then he was clenching his teeth and crying out as Wooyoung pushed inside of him, moaning in his ear as he pushed deeper and deeper, inch by painful inch. “Shh, I know,” he soothed, stroking his hair and pressing more kisses to his shoulders once he bottomed out, San sniffling and gasping beneath him. “Mmm so good for me, angel. You feel so perfect.” San did his best to relax, thankful that the burn was at least manageable and not too terribly painful. And it didn’t take long before it started to ebb. But for the time it took, he focused on enjoying the feeling of Wooyoung deep inside of him and the gentle kisses on his skin, the whispers of praise and the oddity of knowing the man had just taken his first time. “Daddy.” “You want me to move?” He asked gently, to which San nodded. Wooyoung wasted no time, slowly pulling out of him before sinking back in, both of them moaning together at the feeling. “That’s it, baby. Mmm fuck you’re so tight,” Wooyoung groaned in his ear, arms caging him in on either side while his breath fanned San’s neck. In no time, Wooyoung was picking up his pace, and San was gasping around his moans as the sound of smacking skin filled the air with every drive in, every meeting of Wooyoung’s hips to his ass. It felt so good, so impossibly good. So deep and warm and perfect and full. He felt so fucking full. He had almost gotten used to it when Wooyoung sat up, pulling his hips up with him as he knelt behind him before driving back in. “Yeah, baby? You like taking daddy like this? Mmm you feel so fucking good,,” Wooyoung groaned, one hand bruisingly gripping his hip and the other pressing on his back to deepen the curve of his spine as San moaned into the mattress and fisted the sheets. “God you’re so pretty.” He jumped, crying out, as that hand left his back and smacked his ass before grabbing his other hip, holding him tight as Wooyoung practically doubled his pace, fully pounding into him now with a sickening squelch. He felt lube dripping down his perineum, sliding to his cock which bobbed madly with Wooyoung’s nonstop slamming into him. “D-daddy ah da-ah ah fu-fu–“ “Mmm come on, fuck, let me hear you, baby. Tell me how good daddy fucks his pretty doll.” San sobbed, his cock fully pulsing in time with every drive into his hole. He swore he could feel Wooyoung in his stomach, even as his mind zoned in on the feeling of his heavy balls smacking his ass with every stroke. And he didn’t know how the man could possibly have so much stamina, because he already felt his dick starting to leak again. “Daddy! Fu–fuck it ah it feels so goo-ood so so good,” he cried, tears burning in his eyes from how rapidly pleasure was filling him up. He wanted to stay like this forever, Wooyoung buried deep inside of him, fucking him into the mattress while he screamed, nothing else in the world mattering except for the feeling of his thighs smacking against his own. He wanted more and more and more. “Fuck da-ah ah plea-ease please please!” “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want, come on.” “Wanna s-see. Wanna see,” he cried, sniffling hard. It was all he wanted, to watch Wooyoung while he fucked him, to see his pretty face, to know how he was looking at him. Wooyoung obliged without question, pulling out and flipping him easily, grabbing his thighs and pressing them up to fold him in half before pushing back in. But San barely noticed any of it, too focused on the way sweat ran down his temple and coated his bangs, how his neck and chest were a little pink with exertion, how his lips parted around moans and groans and his eyes bore into him like he could eat him alive just by staring. And San could only melt beneath him as he fucked him hard, hands holding his thighs up while San’s fisted in the sheets either side of him. He could only whimper and cry and moan and sob as Wooyoung built that warmth and impossible pleasure higher and higher inside of him, eyes holding his until San was tunnel visioning on black orbs and going dizzy. “I know, let it out,” Wooyoung hummed, kissing the inside of his calf, lips dragging along his skin as his entire body bounced against the mattress. “You take it so good, baby. So pretty just for daddy.” He was going to burn alive. He was going to disappear in every inch where Wooyoung touched him. And he had no idea how he managed to lift his arms with how heavy and limp they felt, but his hands found Wooyoung’s waist, gripping for dear life and definitely dragging his nails on his poor back. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his brow furrowing. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck I’m gonna cum in your tight little ass. Mmm I’m gonna fuck it right into your stomach, baby. You gonna take it for me? Hmm? Gonna take it for daddy?” San nodded his head, mostly just letting it bob with the force of Wooyoung’s slamming, rhythmless thrusts into his puffy hole. “Wa-want want it want want it~” he babbled, hoping it conveyed well enough how desperately he desired exactly that. “Don’t cum, angel,” he groaned, and San gasped and cried out as his hand suddenly moved and fisted his cock, squeezing tight. “You don’t cum until daddy says. Hold it, baby. Fuck. Oh fuck.” He gave a few final, jerking thrusts, and then San was choking in air as he slammed the deepest he had all night, pushing his hips up off the bed with how deeply and forcefully he rutted inside of him, moaning loud as he pumped his stomach full of cum. “Fuck, oh my god,” he panted, a soft laugh spilling from his perfect lips as he gave a couple soft, slow thrusts before pulling out, leaving San shaking and so very empty. “Mmm fuck, hold on baby.” And San could only watch through blurry eyes as he reached behind him before he was gasping when Wooyoung bit his lip then dropped a slick plug to the sheets beside him. “I’ll have to get you one,” he hummed, his eyes tracking down to where San could already feel little dribbles starting to escape his hole. “Might make you walk around with my cum in your cute little hole.” San was going to lose his mind. And it only got worse as Wooyoung climbed on top of him, dripping lube into his hand before tossing the bottle aside and reaching down to stroke San’s cock one good time before pressing it to his hole and sitting down slowly. “Oh! Oh! Fu– da– oh!” Wooyoung giggled as San’s eyes rolled back, hissing in a little breath when he sat down all the way. “Come on, doll,” he smiled down at him, leaning forward as he grabbed San’s hands and lifted them up, pressing them to the mattress above his head to trap them as he breathed over his face. “Be a good boy and cum in daddy’s ass.” San sobbed as he started bouncing in his lap, hips grinding in a circular motion as his eyes bore into him. “God you’re so fucking pretty,” Wooyoung told him. “Mmm I might keep you all to myself, angel. I don’t think I can let anyone else see my pretty little doll like this. I might lose my fucking mind, ya know?” San nodded rapidly, hanging on the words and praying for him to keep them, begging for them to be true. Because he wanted nothing more than to be his daddy’s little doll, to break apart on his mattress every single night and hang on every minute that he was touching him. “Gonna cum? Hmm? My good boy’s gonna fill daddy up?” All he could manage was another nod as he fully sobbed, big fat tears running down his cheek as his body got hotter and hotter. And when Wooyoung bent his body and leaned down to the side, San couldn’t even register how ticklish it felt when he ran a long stripe of his tongue over his displayed armpit. “Mmm fuck, baby. You taste so good.” He shook and jerked as Wooyoung sucked on his armpit, licking and tonguing like it could possibly actually taste good with how much San knew he was sweating. “Cu– da– plea–ease cum ‘m cum cumming I ah ah~” “Do it. Mmm cum in daddy,” he groaned into his skin, abandoning it to capture San’s lips again when he choked on a sob as he began to spill. His whole body jerked with his climax, heat ripping through him until he felt so lightheaded he almost thought he would faint. And Wooyoung just slurped and sucked at his mouth the whole way through it, hole clenching around him while he grinded against him to milk out every drop. San panted heavy as he came down, hardly registering the soft kisses Wooyoung was leaving all over his face. “Good boy,” he praised. “Mmm I’m so proud of you, angel. My perfect doll.” It took a few minutes before he felt like he could breathe normally again, somewhere during the lazy, messy kiss he found himself locked in, their hands smoothing over each other’s sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he exhaled when Wooyoung finally pulled away, sitting back to lift up off of his softened dick. A soft laugh of disbelief left him as Wooyoung laid down beside him, his hands coming up to cover his face for a moment and wipe away the sheen of sweat. He actually just had sex with Jung Wooyoung. “Mhmm,” Wooyoung hummed in agreement. “Is it always that good?” He asked, turning his head to look at him, marveling in how beautiful he looked even all sweaty and hair messy. Wooyoung turned his head too, a smile dancing on his lips as he looked over San’s face. “No,” he said softly. “I don’t think it is.” And San found himself lost once again in his eyes, wishing that the words he said in the heat of the moment actually meant something but knowing that they didn’t. And yet, when the time came, Wooyoung stopped him from trying to get up to dress. Instead, he pulled him deeper in the bed, wrapping his arms around him and holding him as he sighed and told him to get some sleep. And the next morning, when San awoke and mentioned that he should probably get back and take a shower, Wooyoung pulled him into his own bathroom, and taught him what getting fucked in the shower felt like. 
*** 3 Months Later ***
 
my sannie 🖤
 
SANNIE

SAN

SAN

BABY

ANGEL

MY SEX DOLL
 
WOOYOUNGIE

Yes?????

What is it
 
I PASSED

BOTH OF THEM
 
ODJCHDJWOCKVJRIE

WORIFI YAY LAY

TAY

WOOYOUNGUE

OH KY GOSH

YAYAYAYAYAY

I TOLD YOU YOU COUOD DO IT

WHAT DID I SAY
 
I don’t remember

Something about not sucking your dick for two seconds so you could teach me about the stock market 😒
 
😐

I SAID that you’re smart and capable and you can do anything you put your mind to if you just focus a little

And yes, if you stop trying to touch me inappropriately in the middle of the library
 
No fun 🙄

But thank you baby you’re so cute

I’m gonna eat you for dinner tonight
 
We have to have dinner with Yeosangie and Jjongie
 
Boringggggg
 
Wooyoungie 😟

Couples go on couple dates

You promised 😡
 
Fine fine

Don’t get all pouty

Just make sure you wear something cute under your dinner outfit

Cause I’m ripping it off of you the second we get back to my room
 
😊

Deal
 
God I can’t wait to make you cockwarm me under my dumb office desk
 
😦

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