Epilogue

-

Satisfaction for some, misfortune for others

 

"Tell me, Wooyoung, would you pay 46 billion won for one of my kisses?"

 

"Of course."

 

I would never have the audacity to point the finger at anyone for being surprised to see such a convenient young man as myself fall head over heels into the jaws of the most charming of the illusions. Right now, I'm thankful that my realistic, petty side is safely hidden from view. Otherwise, prying eyes would be fueled by large amounts of disbelief. I, Jung Wooyoung, am doomed to have common sense and to admire the future behind a foggy cloak, but also to lose completely my mind.

 

San has tried his best to take it away from me three times tonight. And the worst of it all is that I have allowed him to do so.

 

If my non-existent reasoning did not suddenly fly away with the first touch of our mouths, it was because he insisted on bringing me back to reality to demand that I returned the kiss.

 

The ground I was built on was shaken dangerously a second time when he had the nerve to position himself on top of me. The sandy floor saved me from falling any lower.

 

From the last of the attempts I still haven't recovered, nor do I think I will for a while. Not with the warmth of his fingers intertwined with mine chasing me or the whistles of our friends welcoming us. San doesn't seem uncomfortable with their stupid comments, nor does he seem uneasy with the red color taking over the tips of my ears.

 

It's certainly not the first time we've walked hand in hand, nor will it be the last. But, for some reason that now I know well, the feeling has changed into a completely different one. Into longing and admiration.

 

"Where is Mingi?" I change the subject in an attempt to disguise and divert the attention in another direction. If I don't get back to normal soon, those snooping eyes will learn to read my thoughts and there's no creepier thing than that. Because once they find out what happened between San and me, they won't let us slip away until we answer each and every one of their awkward questions.

 

The hourglass has been turned again to announce an unalterable end. It is only a matter of time before the last of the grains gives in to gravity.

 

"Seonghwa has taken him inside to heal his foot while we pick this up," Jongho explains, approaching me. I can't tell if the pronounced bags under his eyes are caused by exhaustion or an excess of amusement, but I definitely prefer them to having to deal with one of his provocative grins. "Well, what, did you guys make up? Because..." with all his cheekiness, he looks me up and down and then snorts. "...I'd say he's left you more messed up than before." 

 

Without thinking, I use both hands to cover his mouth in panic. Then, in between complaints, I dare to peek out of the corner of my eye to make sure no one else has heard what he just whispered to me. 

 

"Shut up. Or do you want me to rip out your tongue?" I warn between my teeth, my jaw so stiff it could shatter. But Choi Jongho is not the type to be intimidated by anyone, least of all by a poor wretch like me.

 

"Try it if you've got the balls."

 

"Hey!" our faces turn in unison in the same direction to find Yeosang leave his hunched position by the campfire and address us with annoyance. By the time I want to realize it, I find myself completely alone and with a half-filled plastic bag attached to my chest. "Clean up, come on. Not even the spirit of the house is spared here."

 

At three o'clock in the morning, the only two light bulbs that remain on come from the restroom where I have just had the most relaxing shower of my life, and the small lamp in the guest room. Jongho has emphasized in every possible way that he is not willing to share space with me and the sand, so I have obeyed his orders without a second thought. Truth be told, I wasn't thrilled about the idea of waking up with reddened skin from not removing the dirt from my either.

 

I take my time removing as much wetness as possible from my hair and, already dressed in a pair of short pajamas that fit me too small, I start my way back down the shaded hallway. Mingi's snoring intensifies with every step I take, leading me to pity Yunho. But, in truth, I might have chosen to be awakened by her noisy breathing rather than share a room with a head-covered Hongjoong and a Yeosang who sometimes sleeps with his eyelids open.

 

Which is why I consider myself lucky to sleep with my roommates. However, I begin to believe that fortune has gone wrong sprinkling me with magic powder because when I cross the threshold, it is San who is waiting on my bed. Jongho and Seonghwa are lying on the remaining one against the opposite wall.

 

"You can thank me later." says my best friend when he notices me, his left arm folded under the pillow and one eye closed. I know that as soon as we allow the night to reign, he will fall right into the arms of Morpheus.

 

" you, Jong."

 

There is no doubt that he is convinced that he has had a good gesture with me. Of course, yeah, who the hell wouldn't want to share a bed with the person he's had a crush on for years? Within inches of each other and after having an intimate moment that has changed every meaning of their friendly relationship. I could not imagine a better scenario to fall asleep because fatigue will have a hard time defeating me if my mind does not stop being overly aware of every movement from him or if his hand has mistakenly brushed against an inappropriate part of my body. Anyone would gladly pay to experience something like this, me first.

 

"Turn off the light, Woo," demands the traitor, turning in the direction of Seonghwa who, by his posture, is either immersed in a deep sleep or his eagerness to become a laborer keeps him with one hand glued to the wall.

 

Since I have been in, I have not crossed eyes with San at any instant, not even when I stretch out on the edge of the bed and reach out my hand to cut the electricity. The tension in my body must be palpable to anyone who glances at me, and I just have a feeling that I will end up making a bad impression to him if I move around too much.

 

There is no way I can be mentally prepared to spend the night with him.  While it is true that we have seen each other in similar situations before, what has happened between us today is too significant for me not to find myself ecstatic at every futile thought.

 

As the first half hour goes by without screwing up, I cling to the optimism of being able to survive until dawn. That is, until I notice what looks like an arm around my waist. My blood freezes immediately. I'm wrong to assume it's a caress, because the hand reaches past me to touch the mattress, as if it wants to give its owner a detailed view of my position.

 

"Woo, come closer or you'll fall over in your sleep," he mumbles behind me, his figure deprives me of the warmth he exudes when he steps aside to make room. He does so not because he is aware of the sensations he provokes in me, but because he expects me to comply with his request. The same one I cannot ignore or refuse either. I shake, backing away a little, I doubt that a handful of centimeters less separating us will change my difficult situation in the slightest. Nevertheless, this is San we're talking about, and he tends to get greedy at the most unexpected times. "Turn around," he asks. Word transformed into a light melody, like those mermaids that lure stray sailors into the depths.

 

My eyes have grown enough to adapt to the lack of brightness, so I can perfectly distinguish San's shape thanks to the very thin moon trail filtering through the curtains. Even so, I am convinced that I would be able to determine his proximity by the intensity of his exhalations. If only they would rock me instead of accelerating my heartbeat, I would have no problem with him being with me.

 

"What's wrong with you? You are acting weird," his minty breath hits my complexion. I begin to realize that I'm the only one of the two of us suffering from a panic attack because he's not bothered at all. Isn't it supposed to be nerve-wracking to keep the person you like so close? Or maybe it's me who's misunderstood his intentions? "If you're uncomfortable sleeping with me, I can go to the couch in the living room."

 

He doesn't allow me to think about the offer in time because he sits on the bed, preparing to go past me. In an energetic snatch I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him fiercely towards me. I may be exhausted from constantly getting hyped up, but that doesn't mean I want him away. My impulsive action causes him to rush at me with a choked groan, managing to interpose his forearms on either sides of my head to break his fall as much as possible.

 

", Woo..." I hear him groan, strange that the other two have not yet protested about the incessant chorus of whispers and noises. I envy them. I long to close my eyes and avoid San's mocking grimace that shines as bright as the moon. It is clear that he'll try to take advantage of the chaos I have just caused. "Are you so eager for me to stay with you? I thought I was making you nervous."

 

"Shut up," I retort, feigning offense. I am annoyed at being the bearer of a face redder than a tourist's back exposing himself to the August sun without sunscreen.

 

"Oh, really?" his lips trace an invisible line impossibly close to my lobe. They are so subtle that they intensify the numerous tingles they awaken wherever they slide; all the way to my jaw. And I just react by tilting my head to offer myself to him. "You smell good, Wooyoung," he says, sniffing a little harder on my skin. "But if you want me to stop talking, you'll have to shut me up."

 

If he hasn't noticed the relentless heartbeats yet, he will as soon as he buries his hand a little deeper under my shirt. San gifts me with caresses that mark my chest like no one has ever done before. He doesn't intend to give me any rest even though he expects my reaction, that's why he insists on leaving little kisses on the corners of my mouth to tease and make me remember what I'm missing out. To remind me that I am responsible for the fact that we are not making out right now. 

 

I fear opening my lips and having my throat betraying me, but I am even more distressed to have him within my reach and not be enjoying him the way I want to. I'm impatient and selfish What's the point of holding back and worsening the angst? So far I have experienced unquestionable ups and downs and I have been beaten down by the most harsh fatigue on countless occasions. I deserve to be rewarded with care and comfort, with the graceful attention that San craves to give me. Obedient, I tug at the collar of his shirt to catch his lips hungrily. San lets the air escape into his lungs before we melt completely into a deep kiss. Our mouths move with vehemence, desire and a slight touch of sanity needed to not overstep the limits.

 

The light on the bedside table comes on and blinds me for a few seconds. Before I can connect identity with voice, I know it's Jongho.

 

"What the are you doing, for God's sake?!" he says in disbelief and anger. The body on top of me is still imprisoning me, but remains static. And I don't know whether to laugh at the visible horror in his tone or to be ashamed for having been caught in such an awkward position. "No, no. I don't want you to answer that because... I know what... you were doing. Go to ing sleep right now!!"

 

I'm the one who uses the agility and subtlety to push San back to his side of the bed before my best friend explodes. My technique works because Jongho snorts with resignation, glares at me and turns off the lamp again.

 

Now not only I am on my back to San with my heart racing from his ministrations or from the uneasiness of squeezing in such a small space. In addition, Jongho's intervention has nearly given me a heart attack.

 

"We'll have to leave it here for today, until we find a more... private place." he whispers, pressing himself against my body to make me malfunction again. There are no hidden intentions behind his gestures, he tends to cling to something so he can fall asleep without disturbance. Maybe if he's out of the game soon, I'll manage to relax enough to fall asleep too. "Good night, Wooyoung."

 

"Good nig..." I'm not allowed to finish because he on my neck. And the action not only forces me to shake between the sheets, but it echoes shamelessly loud. Like a nasty suction pad.

 

"I'm still awake, s! If I hear one more ing noise, I'll kick you two out to the ing beach so you can make out without causing the others to gag."

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

The successful outcome of the main issue that had put our group of friends in crisis, brought a sense of comfort to which we all gave a well-deserved welcome. However, it was not the only significant news in my day-to-day life. I'm beginning to guess that this fruitful outcome unleashed a powerful wave of optimism and good fortune. 

 

By freeing myself from what troubled me, I chose to dress in a confidence-building attire that perfectly matched my talkativeness. And all this led to a successful interview for which I was called back for a second time, not as a promising candidate, but as an applicant to be put to the test.

 

Outside these four walls and the building composed of neighbors forced to listen to my victorious shouting, San was the first to be informed about it, and also the one who proposed to meet me on Saturday. Realistically, I was beginning to miss sharing moments alone with him. Although it is true that we met again a couple of times as a group after that trip to the beach, I have resigned myself to the memory of an illusion.

 

Normality has returned to our daily lives, but I am selfish and greedy. Watching him in the distance and resuming contact as good friends can no longer be enough when he has given me a taste of what I always dreamed of having. I can not ignore those questions surrounding us that remain in the air because they will eventually gain weight until they return to suffocate us.

 

The steam gathered inside the shower chases me into the room, but there is no one else with me, so I can be spared any scolding. Seonghwa and Jongho's absence from the apartment on a late Saturday night can only mean improvised plans with some of their friends. Otherwise, they would have already settled in on the living room couch with a bowl of popcorn and some variety show on the TV.

 

Almost without being aware of it I whistle an unknown melody that follows my actions. Its origin could be found in that kind of happiness-like feeling I am experiencing, but it is a empty well-being that feeds myself with uncertain hopes. A half-hearted satisfaction that nevertheless helps me to find myself more attractive than usual when I look at myself in the mirror. The same one that encourages me to use all the facilities at my disposal to leave my date in awe; the last pair of tight pants I have bought, Seonghwa's black shirt and that beige coat that Jongho usually wears so much but has forgotten at home.

 

Today it will be San who, for the first time, will be unable to take his eyes off me.

 

We have agreed to meet on the avenue where the cinema is located. For the thousandth time in the last three years, I inwardly curse having given up examining my eyesight to prioritize other needs. Now, there's no way I can make out a single outstanding head in the crowd of citizens stacked along a irregular row. And that leaves me with no choice but to walk it from start to end until I find San. Or rather, until he notices me.

 

Checking a third part of the row without satisfactory progress makes me doubt San's well-known punctuality. He is fond of being on time, but perhaps making amends has led him to become more comfortable with me. Insecurity is never satisfied with being relegated from its position to take second place. Used to reigning amidst confusion that leaves me at its complete mercy, it comes out on occasions like this. Smart enough to stand up to me by sticking to those loose ends that hold so many unknowns.

 

An incoming call diverts my attention to the cell phone firmly attached to my right hand. I fail to pick it up in time, but it helps me to notice the message that has been sent to me.

 

"Woo, ten steps to your right."

 

Eagerness and anticipation, an exorbitant desire to intoxicate myself in his scent of home is what those words trigger. Because a single message from San has the ability to bring out silly smiles and actions headed by nerves. He has the energy to dissipate the grayish clouds and bring color back to a world mired in misery.

 

To make it light up my universe again, I only have to follow a simple indication. Just a few meters obstructed by strangers that end up leading me to him.

 

And to Mingi.

 

Also to Jongho and Hongjoong.

 

"We thought you'd given up and wouldn't show up," San embraces me with a painful brevity that barely allows me to taste that perfume engraved in my sense of smell. It is a hug that makes no difference with those we normally exchange as a greeting. Similar to Mingi's, but less clumsy. 

 

"It's not my fault that you're not tall enough for me to see you," I tease, appearing normal and trying to push away that slight disappointment that will lose value as the night goes on. 

 

"Hey, that thing you're wearing..." Jongho examines me with an unusual concentration that sends shivers down my spine. I'm grateful that the other two are still laughing at San's annoyed grimace after my comment because it allows me to distract attention.

 

I can't tolerate the disappointment of a trampled expectation ruining my good mood, otherwise I'll go into an inner loop.

 

"They just opened the ticket window!" squeals Mingi, jumping in place as he shakes Hongjoong's arm. 

 

"I'll take the corner seat, unless you want me to end up shoving a shoe in Mingi's mouth or punching Wooyoung in the stomach," reminds Jongho, one of those weirdos who won't comment on whatever he's watching. Except for the ones he initiates himself, of course.

 

As the line moves forward and the wait gets shorter, we gather the exact amount for the tickets. It is San who is in charge of buying them while we fool around a few steps away from him. The summer atmosphere is still detectable in mid-September, but the nights get a little too cool. Observing San's relaxed posture chatting with the employee at the stand, I take my time to lose myself in the width of his back and the short-sleeved navy blue shirt. He's wearing new khaki-hued pants that cover to his knees. His frizzy hair is typical of someone who has just recently washed it or a direct victim of humidity.

 

I didn't remember exactly how wide the building was, but that may be because I haven't been to the theater more than three times. Which doesn't exempt me from evoking the delicious aroma of roasted corn and candy that wafts around every corner. A bucket of sticky popcorn for Mingi and four sodas later, we walk in a straight line to the right hallway lined with double doors. My friends grumble with exaggeration when I decide to sneak off to the bathroom, lacking the skills to detect my need to retreat into a private chat with my silhouette. Reflection I'll gift with a handful of discomfort.

 

A quick hand wash that leaves my fingers as silky as my best friend's coat, several touch-ups that put those scattered locks in place and a fresh coat of lip balm is all I require to return to calm. 

 

To my surprise, I find no familiar faces waiting for me. And I barely remember the number of the room we are to enter. The encounter goes from bad to worse, it has started with a certain preconceived idea being thrown into the trash can and will end with me lost in the immensities of a place focused on audiovisual entertainment. Accompanied by a heavy feeling, I dig my heels into the tiles with some irritation.

 

San appears in front of me out of nowhere, mugging me from his hiding place behind a prominent column in the wall. He has no idea how lucky he is that he doesn't have to type in the emergency number to call for an ambulance.

 

", it took you long enough. I almost came in to take you out." His hand reaches out to meet mine. "We have to find our seats before the lights go out inside."

 

"Isn't it the number fifteen?" I was aware that this was the entrance we had to go through, but San keeps leading me to the back, in the direction of the last two accessible doors.

 

"It is, for Jongho, Mingi and Hongjoong," he clarifies without turning to look at me. "We have the seventeenth."

 

The warmth that begins to well up in my chest becomes so piercing that I can't digest it. San's intentions, our entwined hands and the security with which he pulls me are more than I think I can bear.

 

"Actually, it was very convenient that you wanted to go to the bathroom, you know," he whispers after pushing the gate and stepping foot into the dark tunnel. "I just had to hand them their tickets and ask them to go ahead."

 

"What if they come out looking for us?"

 

"Bad luck."

 

Contrary to my absent-minded nature and given to observing what I admire more than I intend to, San behaves surprisingly well during the movie. We are spectators of a Japanese feature film that he premiered with his friends at work, but which he was eager to see again with me. I don't mean to throw away his good intentions, but the fact that he keeps leaning on the armrest that joins us to distract me every time he sips his soda should be a huge problem. To be honest, I'm starting to get jealous of the screen he's giving so many smiles to.

 

Certainly, this moment is what I have been cheering for in my heart, what I have been longing to get back. And it's not that I'm not enjoying it, but unconsciously, I expect something more. Hints of a special interest that I do not detect in the duration of the film. San has silently confessed to wanting to enjoy my company alone, but perhaps I've mistaken those intentions for wanting to tear his throat out laughing like crazy with me.

 

"At what time does their movie end?" I ask as we leave the place, trying hard to push the intrusive thoughts away.

 

"," as soon as San sighs, two of the other rooms before us open wide to allow their visitors to leave. In him I detect panic wrapped in a bundle of amusement. "Are you ready?"

 

"I am, but I'm warning you, I'm not taking half the blame when you're the one who planned this."

 

I hear him click his tongue before grabbing my forearm again.

 

"I meant, are you ready to run?"

 

"What?"

 

He doesn't even give me a chance to process what he's saying, his walking changes drastically, dragging me along with him. My feet begin a stifled, hurried walk trying to match him as we barely dodge the confused people who stare in amazement as we pass by. My heartbeat quickens and I can't tell for sure if it's the adrenaline rush that comes with the escape or the proximity of San.

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

 

"Now your hands are as dirty as mine."

 

The aimless running led us to get lost in the less traveled streets of Seoul, after which we ended up ordering Chinese take-out. Certain that it would take the others quite a while to get back, we made our way back to my apartment. 

 

That's the thing about experiencing a high dosis of extreme energy, getting addicted to the high encourages me to keep risking my skin.

 

"Hm?" I turn my face in his direction with my cheeks full with rice. San lies settled against the arm of the couch next to me. The numerous tuppers of food have almost completely taken over the table and the television is playing one of those strange and thoughtful episodes of Black Mirror.

 

"Basically, you've gone from accomplice to second perp. You know what to expect when they come back home. Hopefully, by then, I won't still be here."

 

"I'll say it was all your idea and that you acted against my will," he laughs derisively.

 

I watch him sharpen his eyes, moving to put his chopsticks and bowl of food in a safe place. He then clears his throat with water and shifts his position to one that borders on the limits of my personal space.

 

"Against your will? That puts me in a very bad place, you know." his face gives way to mock disappointment that takes me miles away from the actors' voices on the show. "Are you sure it was like that? Because I don't want to stay in a place I wasn't invited to, much less force you to stay with me."

 

There is not the slightest hesitation in comparing his recent words with the move already used the night we slept together. It is his way of making me retract, of getting me to admit. A forceful move that makes me grab his arm to prevent him from getting up.

 

San laughs triumphantly.

 

"What I imagined."

 

"Hey, San."

 

He expresses curiosity with a frown. And he's right in anticipation because he can't get used to the idea of the mess in my head and the growing knot in my stomach. I want to face reality, but I can't find the guts to do so. It's as if my trachea is being constricted to make it harder for oxygen to get through.  

 

"What's wrong?" he urges impatiently.

 

"I want to..." I can't slip away when I've leaned back against the couch sideways and he's right in front of me. "There's something I want to know."

 

His stiff features immediately relax, as if he's been waiting for this moment. 

 

"Go ahead and ask," he gives me the chance to speak, as not to become one of those listeners who are eaten away by intrigue due to a sullen dosage of information. San has shown his mettle on several occasions, but today, in the shadows of the room and with the aroma of sweet and sour pork surrounding us, he doesn't seem enthusiastic about waiting for me. "Is it because of what happened on the birthday?"

 

"In fact, yes" I haven't exposed anything yet and my hands are already threatening to leave a groove on the soft base they cling to. "It wasn't bad, I mean, it wasn't exactly the.... you know..."

 

The accumulation of thoughts eager to materialize pile up on each other as they leave my mouth, giving rise to a verbal tangle that even I don't understand.

 

"Do you regret it?"

 

" no, of course not," the slim possibility that he might had missunderstood it scares me. Although it is useful to unravel the tangle that blocks me. "I refer... to what I said that night, I don't see you as just a friend, okay? I like spending time with you. But I don't know if we're both on the same page, or what I mean to you."

 

The silence would have swallowed us up if it weren't for the television on, and although I'm afraid to register his expression, I don't notice any reluctance or rejection. First, he analyzes me with those two dark lagoons where I dream of getting lost forever, because they are the most beautiful landscape I will ever admire. And then, San makes room between my legs to sit even closer. 

 

"I like you, Wooyoung, is that what you wanted to hear?" my whole body has stopped working under the spell of such meaningful words. "Knowing you, I'm sure you'll want details, right?" I make a big effort to shake my head just once to nod. "I found out that very night while we were talking."

 

"That night?" he smiles sideways, aware of the absurdity of it all. The new confession is not bringing me the relief I require. "And... Yerim? You told me... that you liked her."

 

"Do you want to know the whole story? You may have to hear things you don't like so much."

 

"Tell me."

 

The omission of some relevant fact could become a doubt capable of tormenting me in the near future.

 

"The day we argued, I was mad at you because I didn't think you were capable of something like that," the revelation gives me a pang of pain similar to the one I experienced in that fight. I know it does not come in the form of reproach, but perhaps it will also bring unconscious relief to him. "As the days went by with no sign of a rapprochement from you, I stopped wanting to see you. Most of my missings were on purpose, Woo."

 

"I'm so sorry, San," I whisper inevitably, though I know it's not what he wants from me.

 

"It doesn't matter now, as long as you don't do it again," he winks, trying to ease my regret. "Yerim and I started something and at first it worked. But then... I went into a kind of block that led me to doubt I was doing the right thing, what I really wanted" I know he's keeping details about her to himself for my sake, but from the way he tosses his hair, it must not have been easy for him to end the relationship. "What happened between you and me started to take its toll on me and I preferred to focus on myself until I could resolve that internal conflict."

 

Put that way, it sounds a lot like the headaches I love to dive into. I must not be the only one trapped in his own emotions.

 

"And you worked it out that day, didn't you?"

 

"Sort of, yes. I thought seeing you again would be uncomfortable, but it wasn't. I was relieved that you took the first step." San accompanies his speech with random over my knee and head down. "In fact, it's quite possible that I was interested in you even before, but I wasn't aware of it. When you confirmed my suspicions, all those feelings came flooding out of me."

 

I find it hard to stop myself from jumping into his arms at this very moment.

 

"Is this the first time you've been attracted to a guy?" delving into his uality is not very fair of me, but far from being curious, I need reassurance.

 

"As far as I know, yes. You're the first."

 

"Are you sure it's not a mix-up?" Precisely because I know the complexities that come with discovering something so important. And as selfish as it may sound, I'm afraid I'll get hurt if I agree to be part of such an experiment.

 

"Are you really asking me that, Jung Wooyoung? Don't with me," I see the annoyance on his handsome face. "I'm not going to answer you something like that."

 

I feel like I've spoiled the moment with an inappropriate question. On second thought, it's as if I've just questioned his feelings for me.

 

"I'd rather show you," he adds unexpectedly, just as I'm thinking of several ways to apologize. "I'll take it upon myself to show you how sure I am so you'll never doubt it again, hm?" he drops forward with complete spontaneity to catch my mouth and lay me down on the couch.

 

San's lips are like a drug, depriving me of all distraction and rationality. They leave me helpless, activating me immediately to reciprocate a union that has become a necessity. The intensity we share has no resemblance to the two previous kisses in which feelings were blurred under alcohol and restrained tension. Now, I sense what he has confessed in every caress between us, in the way he holds me as if I were the most important treasure in his possession.

 

Perhaps San is not far from understanding the magnitude of what I feel towards him.

 

"NO ING WAY!"

 

The listless sounds inhibit us from detecting the newcomer. Jongho crosses the doorway in such a hurry that he doesn't get around the slippers and falls to his knees.

 

"..." I sigh against San's mouth. A part of me is tempted to laugh, but that will only worsen the storm about to electrocute us. 

 

The fall is not enough to stop my best friend from exploding.

 

"AGAIN, WOOYOUNG?! AND ON MY ING SOFA!" I put some space between me and San, naively believing he'll calm down a bit. "AND I'M NOT FORGIVING WHAT YOU DID BACK AT THE CINEMA. YOU'VE LEFT ME WITHOUT POPCORN."

 

"Why the are you yelling just at me? This is a two-way thing. And, just so you know, it was San's idea."

 

Aware of what I've just done, I avoid looking directly into the eyes of the one I mentioned.

 

"San doesn't live here," he makes an effort to lower the volume, but the irritation is still present in his tone. "There are rules, do I have to remind you what they are?"

 

"No, no, I have them in mind," I hurry to answer, otherwise, I know he's capable of quoting them all to me one by one.

 

Making excuses about how we were just planning to watch something while we had dinner doesn't sound so bad, until I realize that San is still on me and that erases all credibility.

 

"If you want to each other, go to your ing room," he points out, almost hopelessly. We begin to move slowly to my bedroom, believing that he will lose his temper when he sees that we know how to behave. "And I hope you'll control yourselves because if I hear a single obscenity, you'll have to find a place to spend the night," I see him enter Seonghwa's room, probably in search of disinfectant, before closing the door.

 

I don't rule out the possibility that he is still traumatized by the birthday episode.

 

As soon as we are enveloped in tranquility, we lay on my mattress, defeated. 

 

"This isn't going to work, Wooyoung," his seriousness catches me off guard.  "Is this how you take care of the boys you date?"

 

"As far as I remember, you didn't ask me out, so I don't owe you anything," I defend myself, pretending not to be terribly affected, because I know he's just playing. But then he attacks me with a pout that he rarely uses as a deadly weapon. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry I stabbed you in the back."

 

"I'll forgive you if you introduce me to your family," I get wrapped up in absolute horror, raising my head from the bed to look at him and confirm if it's a joke.

 

"What?!"

 

"Why not? By now we've met everyone else's relatives, even you've talked to my father," he defends himself. "It's only fair that you let me meet yours."

 

I have no idea what excuse to make because it's something new for me. A big step that I don't know if I'm willing to take, but it's San who is in my arms. A wild storm that despite turning my universe upside down, has also shown endurance and apprehension. I owe him.

 

"All right."

 

"Great, because I already get along well with your friends." he celebrates with resolute satisfaction. "Except for that Jongho guy, I'll have to find a way to win him over."

 

Still here, lying on my bed and deep in each other's breath, I think of the first time I saw him. In the question that has stayed with me to this day and that he never answered.

 

"San, what would you do if you had forty-six billion won?"

 

He looks at my face in detail, using his thumb to run over my cheek in endless caresses.

 

"That... is a difficult question to answer," and I agree. "If I had 46 billion won... I'd give it away in exchange for meeting you again in our next life."

 

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ

Hello! Well, now it's really over! What did you think of this little experiment? I know it's a story with some peculiarities like the huge time jumps, but I wanted to play with the techniques and try with other elements. Maybe some things have been left in the air, I do not discard a future extra chapter hehehe. What do you say, would you like to read more about this fanfic? I accept suggestions! You can let me know without fear, so I'll seriously consider it^^

 

Otherwise, I'm delighted to start a new phase with this story. It's been complicated for me and the learning process is not over yet, but, for the first time, I feel more satisfied with what I write. Actually, the Woosan longfic project (the soulmates & university students themed one) that I started before summer, is stopped due to lack of time. I'm really busy with work and classes. So for the time being I'll keep writing shorter stories like this one. I have several in mind with different ships! And for the new short fanfic, I was planning to start publishing it next week (because I want to be active and constant), however, these last days have been so chaotic that I haven't been able to dedicate myself to writing :( I mean, the new fanfic is not ready to be published yet (I only have one chapter written). So, I ask you to leave me a couple of weeks to finish it and, I'll start publishing it at the beginning of December, ok? If you want to know more details about the story, I'll leave some spoilers on the instagram account! I'll just tell you that it's another WooSan one,  a little bit more adult and disturbing hehehehehehehe <3

 

See you very soon!!!

 ೋ•୨✿୧•ೋ