Chapter Text
Wooyoung stood in line for the bar, the heavy sounds of a drum solo shaking his body as the lights around them flashed from red to green then back to red. Years ago he would have complained about the inevitable ringing in his ears the next morning, or worried about the lack of strobe warning at the club entrance. But he supposed anyone coming to a punk night club knew what they were signing themselves up for.
He caught the eye of Hajoon, his favorite bartender, waving him over and giggling at the frustrated groans of the other people who had been waiting in line far longer.
“Hi gorgeous,” he purred, watching Hajoon hide his smile behind an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“What is it this time?” He called over the sounds of the band on stage. They sounded good, but Wooyoung could care less.
Every week the lineup of bands was different, a few local groups hoping to get their name out mixed in with those who held a recurring performance contract. Some were better than others, some just getting the hang of being in front of a crowd while others were born to be on stage.
Wooyoung had gotten lucky, all his nights here were spent cheering on the one band that every person in the crowd could agree was going to make it big. He had picked the best, though that small fact never had anything to do with it.
“Why do you always think I need something from you?” Wooyoung fake pouted.
“Because I know you Youngie, what is it this time?”
“Well since you’re asking…”
Minutes later he was returning to his friends who had crowded around one of the small standing tables that lined the back wall of the venue, a tray of shot glasses in tow.
“Everyone say thank you Wooyoung,” he teased, setting the plate of free alcohol in the middle of the suspiciously sticky table.
His friends mumbled a chorus of half enthusiastic thanks and you're the best as they took their glasses. The excitement of Wooyoung being able to secure free drinks wherever they went had long since worn off on all of them. Having each been the subject of his undeniable charm far too many times to not feel a little bad for every bartender he manipulated on their nights out.
Wooyoung picked up his glass last, ignoring the harsh smell of the liquor wafting through his nose. “Cheers!” he cried out, holding his glass up between the 5 of them. “To ETB!”
The rest of them mimicked his cheer, tapping their glasses together before throwing back their shots, varying levels of disgust and regret flashing across each of their faces.
“Tequila?” Yeosang called holding back a gag.
Before the group could gang up on him for his liquor choice that he would like to remind all of them had been free, the band on stage finished their set.
“Let’s go! They’re gonna be on soon!” Wooyoung cried, making his way towards the crowd.
He and Yunho typically led the group when they barreled their way to the front of the stage. Wooyoung was fierce and ruthless, not worrying about who he had to shove aside to make it to the barricade and Yunho’s height intimidated anyone who tried to talk back out of saying anything. Seonghwa, the mother duck that he was, stayed one step behind the rest, making sure Yeosang and Jongho didn’t get lost in the crowd. They had the perfect system really.
They made it to the front, Wooyoung buzzing with energy as they watched the crew set up the stage. It was only minutes before San’s band would be on and though he had been to every one of their shows in the last 2 years, he still felt as excited as he had the first time he had seen him stand up on that stage.
It was amazing really, how big their band had grown since the three boys had formed it in a dorm room back in Wooyoung’s freshman year.
He still couldn’t believe the university had managed to randomly pair up Minigi and San in their first year. A drummer and a guitar player who both had serious talent but no clue how to do much more than play solo covers. That was until Mingi met a bass player named Hongjoong in an audio tech class and it was suddenly as if the stars had aligned.
The three of them had practiced every night for months and eventually heard about Silver Light, a punk club that decided to give them a chance and let them take a last minute spot in their lineup for a band who had backed out of their gig.
Wooyoung remembered how nervous San had been that day, how he had almost tried to back out and fake food poisoning until Wooyoung reminded him that he would be right there in front of the stage, cheering him on the whole time.
San hadn’t taken his eyes off of him once during that show.
Since then San had grown so much as a performer. All of them have. Hongjoong had been taking lessons to help with his vocal fry and his screams sounded far more professional these days. His bass skills had also improved so much in the past year even though Wooyoung hadn’t thought that was possible. Mingi couldn’t go a day without drumming and Wooyoung was always amazed at how fast his hands could move. He could match any beat with ease and his energy carried through the stage.
Then there was San, the boy who was born with the most angelic voice and played guitar like it was second nature to him. He had long since outgrown his nerves on stage and he no longer needed to focus on Wooyoung to get through his sets, but that didn’t stop Wooyoung from being front and center every show. Always catching San’s first and last smile and cheering louder than anyone else in the crowd.
The lights cut off and Wooyoung’s heart began to race. One single spotlight flicked on and tracked San as he crossed the stage, his thick black boots reverberating with each step. He was wearing a black cutoff shirt and dark skinny jeans with a few bracelets and silver necklaces that shone in the harsh white light. His dark hair had grown out and was falling into his eyes that were lined with smokey eyeliner he had perfected in the past year of performing. He shot Wooyoung a quick wink as he stepped up to the mic, grabbing hold of it as Hongjoong and Mingi took their places beside him.
Hongjoong was always changing his hair, different colors and styles and half the time Wooyoung had no idea what to expect when he stepped out onto the stage. He had kept his split dye for some time now, but tonight his black and blonde hair was pulled back into three ponytails that stuck out straight from his head. They sort of reminded him of liberty spikes, a staple in this community but Wooyoung was sure that if anyone else tried to pull off that style it wouldn’t work, Hongjoong was just that cool.
Mingi on the other hand always kept his hair dark, long, and slightly covering his eyes. Though that didn’t matter much when he always wore thick sunglasses on stage. Tonight he was wearing an open jacket and his Fix On tattoo was on full display across his chest. Woyoung didn’t even need to look to know that Yunho was drooling next to him.
“Thanks for coming out tonight,” San’s gentle voice swam through the speakers. “We are End of the Beginning.” The crowd erupted in cheers. Devoted fans who didn’t miss a show and people stopping by the club hoping to catch a glimpse of some local bands all cheering for the group.
Mingi counted them in, starting up the beat and San and Hongjoong joined in. It was one of their newer songs, Deep Dive and it really showcased their growth. Wooyoung loved the beat and the intensity of the lyrics, especially the screams that Hoongjoong had added in during one of their last practices.
He always was a perfectionist, not sleeping until their songs were just right.
But his favorite moments were always when the music cut out, just for a second, before San stepped forward and dove into a guitar solo.
He had been there the moment San first ever picked up a guitar. Watched him every year since, growing, learning, perfecting his skills, and still Wooyoung lost his breath every time he watched San perform. He was lightning on the stage. His energy was magnetic and you really couldn't keep your eyes off of him.
His talent was obvious, and on top of that the man just so happened to be gorgeous, especially up there on stage. His face was strong and sharp and his eyes held so much intensity. Wooyoung swallowed deep as he watched sweat drip down the side of his face.
The crowd cheered as the song came to an end, the next one starting quickly and Wooyoung lost himself in the music.
₊˚✧ 。₊˚✧ 。
“That was amazing Joongie!” Seonghwa squealed, throwing himself into his boyfriend’s arms as the band made their way out from backstage.
Their group usually hung around by the door marked RESTRICTED, waiting for their friends to come out once their set was done. They were always exhausted but coursing with adrenaline and more often than not they spent the rest of the night getting trashed and screaming over one another in the back of the bar.
Tonight though, Wooyoung knew that most of them had to get home. Mingi and Yunho had class in the morning, Yeosang was working an early shift at the cafe, and Seonghwa had been talking all night about how badly he wanted to go home and finish the project he had started this morning on his animal crossing island. They had agreed to call it a night and planned to all do something together over the weekend instead.
“So,” San asked, turning to face Wooyoung as they were the only two of their group left in the club. “Wanna get food or something?”
“I actually had something else in mind,” Wooyoung smiled up at him, grabbing him by the arm and leading them toward the bar.
He leaned across the bartop and yelled something to Hajoon, sure that San couldn’t hear them over the sound of the next band that had taken the stage. Hajoon just rolled his eyes and stepped into the back room, rummaging around for a few minutes before stepping around the bar and handing Wooyoung his jacket and whispering something in his ear. San stepped closer to Wooyoung, almost on instinct and he felt the warmth of his hand coming to rest on his shoulder. It was nice, familiar.
“Thanks Joonie!” Wooyoung called, straightening up and stepping away from the slightly annoyed bartender. “See you later!”
Wooyoung rushed toward the exit, his heavy jacket still bundled in his arms. They stepped outside and Wooyoung was hit with a light early fall breeze. It was still warm enough that his cropped tank top wasn’t unbearable but he did wish he had worn something a little less revealing.
“You should put on your jacket, Wooyoung,” San said, reaching for the black denim in his arms. “You’re gonna get a cold.”
“I’m fine!” Wooyoung chirped, taking a step back. “Now come on, there's somewhere I wanna go.”
He turned to lead them down the street, knowing it would be a short walk and he could handle the cold until then. San on the other hand, always worried about him a little too much. He stepped closer, wrapping a warm arm around his shoulder and trying to shield him from the cold air despite his protests. Wooyoung gave in easily, letting himself feel small and protected under the weight of San’s arm. Letting himself indulge just a bit under the guise of staying warm.
San pushed in closer, leaning his head against Wooyoung’s and inhaling a deep breath. “Youngie you always smell so good.”
Wooyoung felt his stomach flip and he quickly laughed it off, used to San’s words but never fully used tot he way the stoked a fire deep inside him. He meant it as a genuine compliment. One that Wooyoung took to heart but knew better than to read into too far.
“You always say that,” he laughed, digging his elbow into San’s side in hopes of creating just a bit more space between them but it was no use. San wasn’t going anywhere.
“Becuase it’s true. There’s just something about you. You always smell like…” His voice trailed off and Wooyoung almost missed the last whispered word. Would have convinced himself it was just his drunk imagination and his wistfull heart that convinced himself that San had told him he smelled like Heaven.
“Come on,” was all he could say as he picked up his pace and San trailed along behind him.
A few minutes later they came across a park and Wooyoung cut through the grass to make his way to the small swing set. He settled into the closest one, waiting for San to do the same. The older boy followed close behind, sitting in the old rusted swing and looking over at Wooyoung who was giggling at him excitedly. When they were finally seated Wooyoung ripped away his jacket, revealing a bottle of whisky that he had been carrying inside of it.
“Where did you get this?” San asked, his eyes doubling in size as he looked at the bottle. San didn’t know much about liquor, but anyone could tell from the dark label and fancy calligraphy that this was far nicer than any of the $20 bottles of vodka they could usually afford when buying alcohol to pregame one of their shows.
“Hajoon owed me a favor,” Wooyoung shrugged, popping the top and taking a swig straight from the bottle. The taste was strong and went down far smoother than anything Wooyoung had drank in a while.
He held out the bottle to San who simply dropped his head with a gentle smile. “You are too charming for your own good Wooyoung.” He grabbed the whiskey and downed a sip of his own.
They passed the bottle back and forth until San inevitably tapped out. Wooyoung knew he would, he had always been a lightweight and he didn’t even expect San to drink as much as he already had. The two of them sat in silence, rocking back and forth on the rickety old swings and staring out at the lights of the city.
It was nice being here like this with San. It almost felt like they were still those two kids who had met in a park just like this one all those years back.
Wooyoung remembered it like it was yesterday.
He had been on his way home from school, he always took the long way back so that he could stop by his favorite store. The one with a cat out front where the sweet old couple who owned it would always give him a few extra candies for his walk home. He didn’t mind the extra time it took, it's not like he had anything else to do really. He knew that once he was home he would spend the rest of his night doing homework, watching tv and maybe helping his mom cook dinner.
Most days when he passed the park in his neighborhood he would keep his head down. It was always the same kids playing kickball or chasing each other across the play structures. Wooyoung was never invited and he never cared. He didn’t want to spend time with any of the kids there anyways, so why bother looking?
That day though, something had told him to look up. To take one quick peek before rounding the corner and making it to his house.
That’s when he saw San.
An angry looking boy perched under a tree with his legs tucked beneath him. He was glaring out at the kids who were shoving each other around in a game of soccer, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Wooyoung watched him for a moment before pulling his eyes back to the road before him. He hadn’t seen that kid before, maybe he was new in town?
For the next week every time Wooyoung passed by the park he took a quick glance at the tree and sure enough, every day he was there. Looking as angry as ever.
He didn’t know why he was so intrigued with this boy, all he knew was that he was. Every day it was like he couldn’t help but look for him. Watching him and wondering.
Why was he there? What was he doing sitting under that same tree every day? Did he even want to be there? It didn’t really seem like he did.
Wooyoung’s curiosity gnawed at him day after day until finally he snapped, marching up to the menacing looking kid. He stood before him, staring down at his slumped form and noticing the hole in the left knee of his pants.
“Why are you sitting here?” Wooyoung asked, not sure why he had even approached the boy in the first place.
“Because I want to sit here,” the kid bit back, not even looking up at him. He had been picking at the grass below him and he held a few green blades in his stained fingers.
“Do you not have friends?”
That caught his attention. The boy looked up at Wooyoung, fixing his irritated glare on him before letting out a little huff. “What? Of course I have friends.”
“Then why are you always sitting out here alone?”
His face fell. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked back down at the grass in front of him. “Well my mom wants me to go out and meet other kids in the neighborhood.”
“Because you don’t have friends?” Wooyoung asked.
“I have friends, okay?” The boy was short tempered, that much was obvious. “And what about you? Where are your friends anyways?”
“I don’t have any,” Wooyoung replied simply.
“What?” The boy seemed stunned, shocked that Wooyoung had just admitted something like that so easily. Like it was nothing, like it meant absolutely nothing.
To him, it kind of did.
“Why else do you think I’m standing here talking to you?” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, sitting next to the boy in the gentle shade of the tree.
The boy shifted, subtly scooting in the opposite direction but Wooyoung could tell he was just making space. Not giving any indication that he would bolt like an animal who had been stunned and cornered. It was an opening and he would take it.
“My name is Wooyoung, by the way.”
“San,” the other boy replied.
“Just San?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a weird name.”
He huffed again. “No it’s not.”
“Kinda is.” Wooyoung leaned back against the bark of the big oak tree.
“No wonder you don’t have friends,” San mumbled under his breath and Wooyoung stifled a laugh. He liked this kid.
After that day Wooyoung spent his afternoons pestering the poor annoyed boy under that same oak tree. Laughing at how easy it was to get under his skin and just how red his cheeks would get when he was angry. San acted like he hated it. Acted like he couldn’t stand Wooyoung. Like the shorter, younger, obnoxious kid drove him insane and was the bane of his existence.
It was a fun game of push and pull and Wooyoung for once didn’t mind the chase. Even if San claimed that he hated every moment spent with him.
Until one day when Wooyoung had stayed home sick from school.
It was nearing 5 o'clock and Wooyoung was awoken from his nap on the couch to a harsh pounding at the door. He stumbled to open it, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a cold pack pressed to his forehead. When he opened it he hadn’t at all been expecting a furious looking San to be standing there huffing on his doorstep.
“Where were you?” He demanded, not yet taking in Wooyoung’s sickly appearance. “Oh,” he mumbled when he finally noticed how rough he had looked.
Wooyoung simply coughed, feeling too weak to keep up with his usual teasing.
“Are you okay? Can I- Do you need anything?” San seemed nervous, entirely different from the boy who stood on his doorstep just moments ago.
Wooyoung shook his head, leaning against the doorframe when his head began to pound.
“Go lay down, you look awful.” San demanded, stepping in past him.
Wooyoung didn’t think anything of it. Just went back to the couch he had been withering away on all day. A while later San was shaking him by the shoulder, stirring him from another impromptu nap he had fallen into.
“Sit up, you need to eat something.” San was pulling him up by the arm and placing a warm bowl in his lap. It was the jook his mom had made him this morning that he had felt too miserable to get up and reheat himself.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, swallowing down a few small spoonfuls.
“Are you okay?” San’s voice was soft. Nervous as he watched Wooyoung try and feed himself.
“Yeah, sorry I wasn’t at the park today.”
“Oh,” San replied, like it had just occurred to him why he came here in the first place, why he was so upset that Wooyoung had stayed home today. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you're not… dead or anything.”
Wooyoung laughed. At least he tried to before he was taken over by another coughing fit.
San stayed with him that night until the sun went down and he was sure that Wooyoung was safely tucked into bed. He made Wooyoung promise to call him in the morning and ensure him that he was still alive and San promised to be back after school the next day to check on him.
From that moment on, the two of them became entirely inseparable.
Wooyoung’s mom had been so grateful to San for coming to take care of him that she had invited him over for dinner every night for the rest of the week.
Eventually she stopped inviting him, knowing that he and Wooyoung would be waltzing through the door together at any moment.
It took a while for San to work up the courage to bring Wooyoung over to his own house. Wooyoung lived with just his mom. She had a steady office job and their life was calm and quiet and predictable and Wooyoung had never thought much of it. San’s house was smaller, a bit older than Wooyoung’s own but he didn’t mind, though San had felt almost ashamed the first time he admitted to Wooyoung that his parents didn’t have much money.
All the holes in San’s pants and the shoes that looked like they were being held together by threads made a bit more sense.
Wooyoung could care less. All that mattered to him was spending time with his friend.
The kids at school weren’t as kind.
Wooyoung had learned that San used to attend the same middle school as him. A few months during their first year but he had gotten kicked out early on for getting in too many fights.
Some kids had such boring lives that the most interesting thing they had to talk about was another person’s appearance.
Wooyoung hoped that San had hit them hard.
Eventually the two of them were able to attend the same high school and it felt like they spent every waking minute together. If Wooyoung ever didn’t come home at night his mom didn’t even bother calling, knowing that he was with San and the two of them would probably stay the night at their house the following night.
It was always him and San, just the two of them. They didn’t have other friends and they didn’t need them. As long as Wooyoung had San, he didn’t need anyone else.
He spent hours, days, years, sitting around learning everything that made San, San. The boy who hummed along to the songs on his stereo and could spend hours raving about how impressive each guitar riff was in his favorite songs. He had a heavier taste than Wooyoung, had introduced him to Black Sabbath and Underoath and a genre called punk that he had never even heard of.
To Wooyoung it all sounded like nothing more than music, but to San it was magic. He could see the keys, harmonize with every note, drum out beats of his own on the empty pages of his notebook. Music had always made sense to San, he had always been born for this.
The two of them spent night after night listening to different albums on the old cd player that sat on his desk and skipped if it wasn’t plugged in just right. Falling into this world of music that San lived in.
Wooyoung wasn’t sure if there was a universe that existed where he didn’t fall in love with his best friend. How could he not when San was all that he had and he got to see the way his eyes lit up like stars when favorite band released a new song?
Wooyoung could spend every minute of his life falling in love with San.
He had known he was gay for a while, but he only gained the confidence to come out their first year of high school. It was a new start for them and a small part of him had hoped that the boy who made him come to this realization would see through his thinly veiled attempt at a confession.
Only he never did.
San had always supported him, told him that it didn’t change the way he looked at him.
Wooyoung had hoped that in some way, it would.
San was amazing, but the kids at school once again, weren’t as kind.
Some kids had such boring lives that the most interesting thing they had to talk about was another person’s sexuality.
Wooyoung would be teased and bullied relentlessly, having harsh names and insults thrown at him and a few times even a couple of pretty graphic threats. But it never bothered him, how could it when the one person whose opinion mattered had already promised that this didn’t change how he felt about him?
He ignored them, but San wasn’t as forgiving.
Countless times Wooyoung would find him after school, nursing a bloody nose and busted lip, making up some excuse but Wooyoung always knew the truth. He would scold him, help him get cleaned up, and roll his eyes as San mumbled that same taunt.
You should see the other guy.
The two of them had built quite a reputation for themselves. The loner queer and his freak delinquent best friend. It wasn’t much of a surprise that the two of them didn’t get invited to parties on the weekends or asked to go get lunch between classes. It didn’t matter, they didn’t need anyone else.
He had San by his side and nothing else could ever matter.
“Hey Wooyoung?”
San’s voice cut through his dazed memories of their past.
“Hm?” He mumbled, taking another swig from the bottle before looking back at him.
“Do you remember that bet we had back at the old park in our neighborhood?” It seemed that the scenery was also making San reminisce on their past.
“The race?” He asked, only half able to remember exactly what that particular argument had been about.
“Yeah, we both thought we could win and we bet lunch for a week, remember?”
Wooyoung nodded, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “I remember you making up some excuse about needing to go home before we could see who won.”
“I did have to go home!” San groaned, smiling over their decade old argument.
“Fine then let's settle it now. There's no excuse for you to leave now, right?”
“I just played a show and we’re both drunk.” San argued.
“So? I feel great!” Wooyoung claimed, hopping onto slightly wobbly legs. Maybe his platform boots weren’t the best choice tonight.
San rolled his eyes, standing and walking over to Wooyoung who was stretching dramatically.
“Fine, first one to that tree wins. Same bet?”
“Same bet,” Wooyoung nodded deviously. “Ready? GO!” He screamed before taking off in the direction of the tree. San hadn’t had a chance to react before Wooyoung was three steps away, racing towards his victory.
“Cheater!” He cried, sprinting after Wooyoung.
Wooyoung ran as hard as he could, his lungs filling with the harsh fall air as he laughed to the point he could barely breathe. He knew San was gaining on him, but he couldn’t risk looking back. He was so close to the finish line, just a few more steps and he would be to the–
His thoughts were cut off as he felt something collide with his back, knocking him forward and almost face first into the grass. Luckily something curled around him and wrapped him up, absorbing the impact of his fall. He opened his eyes and rolled over to see that San had tackled him.
“What the hell?” He screamed. Giggling as he tried to untangle San’s arms.
“You were about to win!” San yelled back.
“This is cheating!” Wooyoung got an arm free, shoving San off of him but he still held tight to Wooyoung’s other wrist.
He tried to stand up but San yanked him back down. “You cheated first!”
“So! Let me go!” Wooyoung laughed hysterically as he tried his best to break free. It only made San’s grip grow tighter.
“No.” San declared, throwing his body overtop of the younger boy. A victorious smile on his face as he practically straddled Wooyoung. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
His laughter died down as he suddenly became very aware of the position the two of them were in. Wooyoung’s best friend and long term crush who happened to be very straight and very oblivious to Wooyoung’s feelings for him was sitting over his hips, pinning him down by the arms and smiling at him as if he had him exactly where he wanted him.
This was dangerous.
San reached down, brushing the bangs back from Wooyoung’s eyes and letting his own gaze trail across his face. He felt his heart rate quicken and in a panicked snap decision, he leaned forward and bit San’s hand.
Hard.
The older reared his hand back, crying out and furrowing his eyebrows at Wooyoung who used the distraction as a chance to escape. Shoving San off of him and quickly scrambling to his feet.
“What the hell?” San asked, an incredulous laugh in his voice.
Wooyoung forced out a choked up laugh, nervous eyes unable to meet San’s. He took a few steps back, bumping into the big oak tree and squeaking out a barely audible “I win.”
San looked up to where Wooyoung stood and rolled his eyes. “You’re always such a cheater.”
Wooyoung smiled, hopeful that the redness of his cheeks was beginning to fade. “Fine, since you don’t want to accept my victory, how about a different prize?”
San just raised an eyebrow at him, sceptical over what sort of reward he could want.
“Instead of lunch for a week, how about you walk me home tonight?”
“I was gonna do that anyways,” San grumbled.
“I know you were, Sannie.”