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“God, Wooyoung, how many times will you put me in this situation!?”
Wooyoung is only half focused on his father’s rant, but he’s mostly interested in the movie playing on the TV; some dramatic rom-com that has had him hooked for the past hour. Just as the climax of the dialogue is about to approach the screen goes black, instantly making Wooyoung sit up on the couch.
“Hey! I was watching that!” He crosses his arms, entirely aware that he’s being petulant, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Especially not in front of a man that couldn’t care less about anything he does, unless it impacts his precious public image of course.
That earns him a scoff, and then his father is gripping his collar and pulling him along towards his room.
“This won’t do anymore, I should’ve kept you on a tighter leash.” The words would wound him if there were any expectations left, but all Wooyoung can do is blankly stare up at his father after being pushed onto his bed. “The last thing I need is for you to put our family on the front page of the newspaper with your recklessness again, so you will be under constant supervision from now on.”
“Supervision? What am I, twelve?”
“You certainly act like it,” his father looks him up and down once before nodding towards his closet, “pack your shit and leave. You’ll be staying in one of the apartments from now on, I don’t wanna look at your face anymore.”
He’s given another look of disgust when he gets to throwing clothes on the bed, but he easily ignores it until he’s finally alone in his room again. His father has never been fond of his style, it’s no news.
He folds his clothes on autopilot, too out of it to really be bothered by any of this. If anything, this might be the best fucking move his father has made in his entire life; Wooyoung gets to live alone and not worry about dealing with an overly critical geriatric asshole. And knowing him, constant supervision is probably a weekly check in from one of his own personal guards, as if he would actually commit to keeping track of what his son does when he has such an important career to focus on instead.
The only thing he might miss is the view from his bedroom, but then again all of their “apartments” are really penthouses with ridiculous views, so in reality Wooyoung should be celebrating this.
He drops down on his bed once all of his suitcases are packed, taking a look around to see all the posters and sketches put up on the walls. He groans, getting up to take those down as well because there’s no way in hell he will live in a place with boring, white walls.
It’s only when his room is looking like a shell of what it once was that he takes his things downstairs, the several cleaners working around the house insisting on helping him.
His father is sitting on the loveseat in the living room, legs crossed and a tablet in hand as he scrolls over things Wooyoung has no interest in. He coughs twice, holding back an eye roll when his father looks up at him with a frown.
“Ah, you’re finally done,” he gets up, nodding for Wooyoung and the cleaners to follow him outside.
He stops once they’re all next to the gate, a sleek, black SUV parked in front of the mansion. Wooyoung eyes it in confusion, but then a second later his father starts explaining the details in a bored tone.
“So, you won’t be living here anymore. I would assume you gathered that much by now, and I know what you’re thinking and no, that doesn’t mean you just get to do anything you want with your junky friends.”
As if on cue the door to the driver’s seat opens, and Wooyoung watches as a man that’s probably in his mid thirties steps out to stand next to his father. It’s a hilarious sight, really, his thinly built father next to a boulder of a man. His shoulders are probably twice the size of Wooyoung's, and he does frequent the gym daily contrary to his father’s unfaltering beliefs on his unhealthy lifestyle, thank you very much.
His face must be doing something, because a moment later there’s a chuckle and a knowing hum coming from his father.
“This will be your personal guard, or whatever you would like to call him.” Wooyoung’s face immediately twists into a frown… a guard? “His name is Choi San, he has worked as my driver for years now, on rotation with a few others. I’ve picked him out of the bunch to deal with your scandalmonger attitude, I’m sure he will be the perfect fit.”
Wooyoung eyes the man with more purpose now, his stomach plummeting at the prospect of having some random stranger following him around at all times.
The man is easily over six feet, his black hair slicked back and sunglasses covering his eyes, so Wooyoung can’t see the expression on his face; but it’s probably the usual dead look every person that has had to spend more than an hour around his father carries. Poor guy. The rest of him is boring, wearing the usual attire of every single guard he’s seen; white shirt, suit and a long coat paired with chelsea boots. The only difference is that this San guy has leather gloves on his hands, and it’s very much obvious that he’s ripped under the excessive layers.
“Right…” Wooyoung finally speaks, still sceptical while looking at the man’s stoic figure. That’s another fucking question; how do these motherfuckers stand so still for so long. “So you hired me a glorified babysitter.”
“Don’t mind his attitude, San.” His father ignores him in favour of addressing the guard next to him, and he gets a clipped nod in response before said guard is moving back towards the car.
“Well finally, I thought his feet grew roots there for a second.” Wooyoung murmurs, heading towards the car in hopes that he will get away from this place and maybe even wake up later to find out his entire life is a dream.
He gets stopped by a hand on his shoulder, and his father leaning in to whisper, “I will be informed of every move you make, so don’t even think of pulling something idiotic.”
Wooyoung shrugs his hand off, scoffing loudly. “Very scary, indeed.” He straightens the lapels of his father’s suit, a smirk on his face as he says, “hoping to never see you again, pops.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just gets into the car after San opens the door for him, leaning his head back against the seats and closing his eyes as he tries to process the past few hours. What the fuck is his life, truly.
They’re pulling away once the trunk is shut with all of his stuff in it, and Wooyoung finally opens his eyes to watch the man in the driver’s seat. He has to entertain himself somehow.
“So, what should I call you, dude?” He leans forward, forearms resting on the seats in front of him.
He doesn’t get a response, the guy doesn’t even turn his head to acknowledge him. Wooyoung scoffs at him before poking at his shoulder, desperate for some sort of reaction.
“Don’t you get bored just playing a statue all day? I won’t tell anyone if you speak you know? Besides, I don’t think my father would have you killed for being a normal human being, dude.”
Wooyoung is just about to give up and text one of his friends instead when San finally speaks up.
“Don’t call me dude.”
Right. Amazing.
“For fuck’s sake,” Wooyoung pinches the bridge of his nose, “That’s not helping me in any way whatsoever.”
And then it’s back to silence.
Wooyoung tries to prod some more but gets nothing, and he’s far too annoyed to try and break in an adult with the personality of a brick wall. He has better things to do anyway.
—
Turns out his father wasn’t joking.
It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t already used to living with random staff walking around the house, or the usual bodyguard when he would have to show up to some event he couldn’t care less about. This is nothing like that, because San is in his business every second of every day and Wooyoung is close to creating a criminal record for himself.
He’s barely given the freedom of going outside, with San going as far as bringing in the groceries and being posted firmly in random spots in the penthouse. He’s positive his father had something to do with that.
So, since there’s no going out — at least not until he breaks in San or finds a way to sneak out — his only option is trying to entertain himself in this lavishly decorated prison.
That’s what brings him to this; sitting on the couch with Yeosang to his right, mountains of snacks thrown on the coffee table and Mortal Kombat blasting from the TV as he tries his best to beat his friend.
He’s half tuned into the game and half focused on the presence looming by the open door, because apparently gaming requires supervision these days as well. Really, in any other circumstance San would be considered a stalker.
“Does he just…stand there all the time?” Yeosang is the first one to address the elephant in the room, not taking his eyes off the game.
Wooyoung takes the second to look away, noting that San is looking at the game with a slightly curled lip. That’s the most emotion he’s gotten out of him in the past week.
“Yeah, at this point it would be weird to see him do human things,” Wooyoung murmurs, cursing under his breath when Yeosang manages to use his moment of distraction to kill him. “That’s not fair.”
Yeosang just shrugs, smirking at him before leaning back against the couch and stretching out his arms.
“Well, at least he’s hot?” His friend says, his attention back on San.
That makes him snort, because sure, San is hot, but that’s about it. “Yeah well, there’s no benefit to having a hot man in my house if he’s not gonna bend me over the couch or something.”
“True,” Yeosang agrees, taking one of the bags of chips, “does he follow you around everywhere like this?”
“Kind of,” Wooyoung turns off the game, exhaling loudly in boredom. “I think he’s here now because you came over, probably needs to update my dad about every single person that comes in and out.”
Wooyoung hates the prospect of that, and maybe he would be more into this entire arrangement if San would just talk to him. He’s going crazy talking to himself all the time.
“That sounds like actual torture,” Yeosang laughs, but the words sound sympathetic. “I wouldn’t wanna be you right now.”
Wooyoung snorts, dropping his head down on Yeosang’s lap and letting silence wash over them.
He can clearly see San like this, in his usual white shirt and dress pants, and at least the man has stopped wearing the blazer and coat while inside. He lets himself look properly, how tight his shirt looks around his broad shoulders and his smooth features; Wooyoung wouldn’t guess he’s over twenty-five years old if he didn’t know his father would never hire someone that young to work for him. He must have some killer skin care routine. Wooyoung would ask him about it if he knew he wouldn’t get ignored, but maybe that’s a blessing he should accept. It’s certainly better than listening to his father lecturing him every waking moment.
Yeosang stays for another hour, and then it’s just him and a man that’s assigned to keep him company. How pathetic.
He’s too exhausted to try and prod for something, so he just heads to his bedroom with a small ‘goodnight’, hoping that he can finally get some sleep here.
As expected, the universe isn’t on his side ever, so he just ends up staring at the ceiling for hours like he’s been doing every night for the past week. This time he decides to at least not waste time, so he heads towards the kitchen in hopes of finding something good and spending the night drawing or watching movies.
But of course he’s met with a whole buffet spread out on the large counter, and San hard at work by the stove as he stirs something instead.
“What the fuck are you doing at this hour?” He has to do a double take when he sees San jump in surprise, and the look on his face sends a sleep deprived Wooyoung into a fit of laughter.
He ends up balancing himself on one of the stool chairs all while slapping the counter, and there’s tears in his eyes by the time he’s calmed down a bit. He desperately needs some sleep, but it’s also nice to see the man actually…living.
“So,” he coughs once he’s no longer hacking a lung, noting that San is looking at him with what seems to be a mix of concern and unease. “You aren’t programmed after all. Unless cooking was listed in the chip my father obviously installed into you.”
That makes San sigh loudly and turn back to the stove, and Wooyoung pouts on instinct. He really thought they were getting somewhere.
“Are you hungry?” San eventually asks, and Wooyoung has to pause for a good minute to make sure he’s not hallucinating.
“You cooked a whole dinner for a family of five, my guy.” The counter is packed with so much food Wooyoung has no idea where to look first. “Do you plan on eating all of this? No wonder you’re fucking hu—“
He’s cut off by a firm hand landing on the counter next to him, and another spinning his chair until he’s facing a frowning San. Seeing him up close like this feels like a monumental moment, so Wooyoung makes sure to really take in the arch of his eyebrows, his dark eyes and pursed lips, and when his eyes catch on the patch of skin showing where the first few buttons of his shirt are popped Wooyoung quickly looks back up.
“Do you ever answer things normally? Or is everything followed by an hour long monologue?”
San seems to be in search of an actual answer, but Wooyoung’s hazy mind is way too focused on the strand of hair that’s fallen over his forehead. His hand reaches up on instinct, taking it between two fingers to toy with it, but a large hand wraps around his wrist instantly.
His breath hitches when he looks into San’s eyes again, seemingly darker than they were before, and the moment is broken the second San pushes his hand away and straightens back up. It’s only then that his brain seems to come back online and he remembers the question he’s been asked.
“Well someone’s gotta fill in the silence, or else we would both go insane.”
This is probably the closest they’ve been to a conversation, and Wooyoung smiles slightly when he sees San shaking his head in annoyance.
So they end up on the couch with multiple filled up plates on the table in front of them, some dumb action movie playing on the TV. Wooyoung has to hold back from criticising San’s taste, because he’s gotten so far in one night and doesn’t plan on fumbling it. He settles for the silence as they eat, or well, as San eats most of the food at an inhuman speed while Wooyoung munches on plain seaweed.
Eventually he’s being lulled to sleep by the movie playing in the background, his body swaying closer to San’s on instinct to seek out warmth.
Once he rouses again he’s being carried between strong arms, and he blinks up at San in confusion when he’s back in his bed.
“You fell asleep on the couch, I didn’t want to wake you.” San’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle as he says it, or maybe Wooyoung is just sleepy.
He hums in response, following San with his eyes as he goes to exit his room. “Hey,” the man turns around at the doorway, eyebrow raised in question. “You never told me what to call you.”
That earns him an eye roll and a heavy sigh. “Just San is fine.”
Wooyoung smiles at that, confirming that he heard him and letting the man go, and if he squeals a little in excitement once the door is closed that’s no one’s business but his own.
Perhaps getting him to soften up won’t be impossible after all.
—
It’s two weeks in that Wooyoung finally manages to find a gap in San’s insane schedule, and the relief that comes with that is unmatched. So is the speed in which he flees the penthouse, dressed in his skimpiest outfit and with Yeosang and Jongho waiting for him. Finally a goddamn night out.
Yeosang whistles as soon as he’s seated in the back, giving him a once-over. “Shit, Woo, I’d do you myself if I wasn’t already taken.”
The protesting ‘hey!’ coming from the driver’s seat makes him giggle, and he rolls his eyes when Yeosang leans over the console to kiss a pouting Jongho. “You two are insufferable.”
“Don’t fret,” Jongho responds, pulling away from the large building, and Wooyoung finally feels like he can breathe once it’s no longer in view. “Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.”
“I’m sorry to crush your dreams, but the last thing I’ll be looking for tonight is a boyfriend.”
It’s the truth, Wooyoung has never bothered to entertain the idea of a significant other. It’s inevitable that his father would get involved and make it hell, so he settles for this; meaningless hookups to release tension with strangers that don’t have to ever find out he’s the son of a high rank politician. And even if they know already, that’s nothing that a few drinks can’t wash away.
The club they frequent all the time is packed once they get there, and they weave their way in between the dancing bodies until they can find an empty table. It’s a corner booth, mostly hidden away from the dancefloor, but it will do.
“ Fuck, I missed this so much,” Wooyoung groans, draping his body over their table once they’re settled.
The laughter coming from his friends serves as a balm after two weeks of being subjected to nothing but exhausting silence.
“I don’t know how you survived two weeks in a sober state honestly,” Jongho teases, making Wooyoung scoff in offence.
“I survived just fine,” he rolls his eyes, pushing at Jongho’s shoulder, “I just missed socialising with actual human beings. You know, the ones that have personalities?”
Yeosang cuts in before he can get into another rant about his predicament, “Okay, enough sulking over your weird new…roommate.” Wooyoung snorts at that, because San is more like a guard dog that never seems to sleep. “This is nothing a little round of shots can’t fix.”
“Damn right!” Jongho cheers, calling for a bartender.
It’s not long before they’re several rounds in, the music somehow getting even louder and flashing lights reflecting off of the hanging chandeliers. Wooyoung finds himself fitting into the crowd of grinding bodies once the alcohol has loosened up his muscles, numbing his mind and making it easy to move his hips to the smooth track coming from the speakers.
He only makes his movements more pronounced when a body slots against his own, hands settling low on his bare belly to push his hips back. They set a pace, and eventually Wooyoung turns around to see the guy is around his height with a pretty face. Perfect for tonight.
Wooyoung tests the waters by pulling him in closer by his collar, eyes suggestive as they slide over plump lips. He doesn’t want to come on too strong with someone who just wanted a quick dance, but the second their lips crash together in a heated kiss he knows he hit the jackpot. They end up moving through the crowd all while touching frantically, and Wooyoung giggles drunkenly into the kiss when he stumbles over his own feet.
“Careful, pretty boy.” The deep voice paired with the hand on the small of his back helping him regain balance makes Wooyoung that much more desperate to get on his knees.
Instead he’s being propped up on a booth table as the stranger kisses over his neck, and if he was any more sober Wooyoung would ask for his name, but he’s too focused on the warm expanse of skin that’s under his palms where he’s sneaking his hands under the man’s shirt.
His eyes roll back into his head when the man decides to bite, and he gets out a weak plea before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “We should probably lea—“
Before he can finish the sentence the man is being ripped away from him, and Wooyoung’s intoxicated brain needs a good minute to process the scene in front of him. A panting San is staring at him with a glare so intense it makes his insides twist, and the man that was on him moments ago is sprawled across the floor after the shove, which is no surprise considering San is twice his size.
He immediately groans when his mind catches up with the situation, and then he’s being tossed over San’s shoulder as the man hauls him outside. Wooyoung manages to shout out a goodbye to Yeosang and Jongho, who seem to be way more interested in making out at their booth instead of paying attention to their surroundings. That would’ve been him if the entire world wasn’t so against him.
By the time he’s back on his feet he feels nauseous and has become intimately acquainted with San’s ass. Lovely turn of events, really.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Wooyoung just blinks up at the man fuming in front of him, because an angry San is a vision. San showing any type of emotion is a celebratory moment, but seeing the man with furrowed eyebrows and lips set in a firm line makes Wooyoung’s gut curl with arousal. Was he always this sexy or has Wooyoung had one too many shots?
“Relax, big guy.” He sways forward to pat San’s shoulder, grinning up at him widely.
“Relax!?” San’s nostrils flare and then there’s a hand wrapping around Wooyoung’s nape, pulling him towards the familiar SUV the man drives.
He stumbles as he gets pushed to the passenger seat, and a second later San is sitting behind the wheel, the vein in his neck popping. Wooyoung may or may not want to lick over it. Who could ever know.
His fantasy gets shattered when San turns to him again, eyes dark as he stares him down.
“Do you have any idea what it was like reporting to your father that you disappeared all of a sudden?” San narrows his eyes at him, and Wooyoung wants to reach out to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows. “Of course you don’t, you couldn’t take a moment to think rationally.”
Wooyoung wants to defend himself, because it’s not that serious, really, but this is the first time he’s seen San this dishevelled and bothered by something. His hair is not styled, and he’s only wearing a white shirt with the usual silver chain that sits around his neck. It makes Wooyoung feel some type of way… did San rush out to search for him?
“I was just having f—“
“No!” San cuts him off immediately, “I don’t think you understand that you’re a public figure, that no matter how you feel about it the world knows who you are. I’m not here for fun , Wooyoung, I’m here to keep you safe.”
Right. Wooyoung is a task for San.
“I was safe.” He murmurs under his breath, petulant and whiny.
That pulls an exasperated sigh out of San, and he pinches the bridge of his nose in an obvious attempt to calm down. “I should just call your father to deal with you.”
Wooyoung’s heart seizes in panic at that, because the last thing he needs to top off this epic night is having his father yell into his ear about responsibility and public image.
“No, no, please,” he whines, shaking his head frantically as he grips San’s shirt in one hand. “Don’t. I’ll be good, okay? Just please don’t call him.”
His lip quivers a little where it’s jutted out in a pout, and Wooyoung watches San’s eyes drop down to his lips. He can feel the way the man goes rigid in his seat, quickly turning away and shrugging Wooyoung’s hand off his shoulder. San takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to collect himself before nodding once, looking defeated.
“Okay, fine,” he sighs, and Wooyoung sort of wishes he was sober so he could know if San is actually affected by their proximity or if it’s just the alcohol making him delusional. “But I’m not here to discipline you, if this happens again I will call him.”
Wooyoung shuts his mouth around a snarky retort, because part of him wants to know how exactly San would choose to discipline him. He shakes his head to get rid of that thought once they’re pulling out of the parking lot, his hands itching to touch. It’s not fair, he got interrupted in the middle of what could’ve been a great stress relief, and now he has to go back home and just go to sleep knowing there’s a whole ass greek god in his penthouse and Wooyoung can’t climb him like a tree.
He settles for making San turn on the radio — which he does begrudgingly — and he pushes his seat back, toeing his shoes off and propping his feet up on the dashboard.
“Don’t do that.”
Wooyoung takes the opportunity to openly look at San, deeply amused by the serious expression on his face. “Or what?”
San pushes his legs off once they’re at a red light. “It’s dangerous. Not every rule exists because of a personal vendetta you think the world has against you.”
Wooyoung smirks to himself, letting San drive off when the lights turn green before twisting in his seat to slide his feet onto the man’s lap. It earns him a surprised noise and a hand instinctively going down to grip his ankle.
“Is this better?” He gives San his best doe eyes even though the man isn’t even looking at him, but the muscle twitching in his jaw is enough for Wooyoung to feel smug about it.
It’s not like he plans to commit to the bit, he doesn’t even know if San is into men…hell, for all he knows the man could be fucking married, but none of that means anything to Wooyoung when his mind is hazy and he’s undeniably horny. The slightest move of his foot shows that he’s not the only one.
Unfortunately he doesn’t get far. San’s grip immediately tightens and he manages to throw his feet off his lap as well, eyes still firmly fixed on the road. The car speeds up and then Wooyoung is left with the knowledge that he made San hard. Which he is feeling totally normal about, of course.
He doesn’t get to mull over that fact for long, because they’re pulling up in front of their building and San is getting out of the car. Wooyoung waits for the man to open the door for him, biting his lip all while staring up at him with pleading eyes.
“What now?” San grumbles the words, obviously tired of his antics.
Wooyoung just stretches out further in the seat, aware that his shirt is riding up his stomach even more and the curve of his body is very much visible for San. He giggles slightly and tilts his head, letting his legs swing from his seat to insinuate that he wants to be carried.
He just gets a disbelieving scoff in response. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“ C’mon , big guy,” Wooyoung whines, reaching out to slide his fingers through San’s belt loops and pull him in closer when the man starts retreating.
His face ends up being squished against San’s chest, and Wooyoung is more than fine with that. He inhales his scent, letting out an embarrassing noise when the man wraps a hand up in his hair to pull him away.
“Pretty please,” he pouts up at him again, smiling in triumph when San sighs in resignation before hauling him up with one arm.
It’s probably a comical sight having Wooyoung cling to his side like a koala, but he just burrows his face into the closest patch of skin to warm up while the man carries him with ease. Wooyoung tightens his arms around him, giggling when San hitches him up higher in his hold.
He smells heavenly, so Wooyoung buries his nose in the man’s neck once they’re in the elevator, and he’s feeling way too drunk and dejected to stop himself from leaning in to trace his lips along the skin. He can feel San’s breath hitch, and it’s only when he darts out his tongue that the man moves away, gritting out a firm ‘stop’.
That pulls a loud whine from Wooyoung, but before he can complain he realises they’ve already reached their floor as San unlocks the door, setting him down in the long hallway.
“None of that.” San stops him from clinging to him again, and just wraps a hand around his wrist to pull him along towards his bedroom. “Get changed and go to bed. I’ll let your father know you’re safe.”
Wooyoung snorts at that, pulling his shirt off and starting to unbutton his jeans. “He doesn’t care about that, just make sure his image isn’t ruined because someone happened to see me existing in public.”
He turns back around to see San pointedly averting his eyes away from his half naked form, and Wooyoung is way too exhausted to call him out on it. He just pushes his jeans down, struggling to kick them off. It ends with him tripping and landing on the bed, face smushed in the sheets and limbs going limp as all fight leaves him. This was supposed to be a fun night out and instead he ended up miserable in the same place he was trying to escape.
He can hear San mumbling something to himself, and then a second later his jeans and socks are being pulled off. Wooyoung moves up on the bed, the exhaustion from earlier hitting him full force once a blanket is thrown on top of him and the lights are shut off, the image of San’s retreating back the last thing he sees before he’s pulled into a dreamless sleep.
—
Things go back to being uneventful after that. Wooyoung receives a phone call from his father and San ups the time he spends making sure he doesn’t escape again, as if that’s a normal and healthy solution to any of this. But his word doesn’t matter so he doesn’t bother trying to explain himself, just drowns himself in his hobbies and watches every romance movie under the sun in hopes that it will make the time pass quicker.
His friends come by every now and then, but San seems to be set on going back to his old self; boring and stoic.
It’s a Wednesday morning when Wooyoung decides again to try and work his way around this somehow. He’s lounging on the couch, with San seated in the armchair across from him, and he sighs loudly when his third attempt to draw the man fails.
“Can we go out?” He closes his sketchbook, throwing it on the coffee table.
San doesn’t seem impressed by his idea. “I’m afraid that’s not an option.”
“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung groans, “you will be with me and my father doesn’t even have to know. Besides, I don’t mean going to a party.”
“What do you mean then?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just want to be anywhere but here, hell, I’d be satisfied visiting an old folks home.”
He’s also satisfied with the subtle smile he pulls out of San with that. He’ll take any small win, really.
“I need to ask your father first.” San goes to grab his phone off the table, but Wooyoung snatches it away before he can get to it.
“ No. He wouldn’t let you do it, he doesn’t trust me.”
“He trusts me.” San counters, and Wooyoung sighs in exasperation because no one fucking gets it.
“That’s not the point,” his face twists in a frown, and he sits up properly to look San in the eyes. “Do you have to report back every single thing I do? You can’t seriously think this is normal.”
He feels tears prickling behind his eyes, and the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of the other man, but he’s been feeling hopeless for weeks. He looks down at his lap, embarrassed by the fact that he blew up over this.
“Fine.” San eventually sighs, and Wooyoung snaps his head up to look at him. His eyes seem to soften a bit as they search Wooyoung’s face, and then he’s getting up and nodding for him to follow.
“Where do you wanna go?”
—
The skate park is mostly empty once they get there, it’s expected with the weather getting colder. Wooyoung’s skateboard has been collecting dust for ages now, so it’s about time he revisits it to see if he’s still ass at this.
“I didn’t know you’re good at skateboarding.” San looks at him curiously as they walk towards the ramps, and Wooyoung has to hold back a snort at that.
“Good is a very generous way to describe my skills, that's for sure.” He lets the board drop to the ground and keeps it in place with his foot, looking over at San who is now seated on one of the nearby benches. “What did my father tell you about me, anyway?”
San easily catches his phone when Wooyoung throws it to him and chuckles at the question. “He just threw some of the countless headlines you made in front of me, I didn’t exactly get a presentation on your personality.”
That’s no surprise considering his father knows nothing about him, so Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at San. “And?”
He finally pushes off the ground and gets on the board, mostly just skateboarding close to San so he can still talk to the man.
“And what?”
“What are your impressions so far?” He doesn’t know why, but he’s curious about how he views him.
“Well, your father did mention that you were a brat,” San’s head is tilted, a small smirk playing on his face when Wooyoung stops to look at him. “So that wasn’t much of a surprise.”
He is used to being called that, but hearing the word coming from San makes his stomach swoop, and he has to stop for a second to avoid toppling over and embarrassing himself in front of him.
“Excuse me?” He just stares at San in offence, but he’s mostly just giddy over the fact that he’s actually being teased by him.
San shrugs in response, leaning back on the bench to look at him in amusement, and Wooyoung gulps at the sight of him manspreading all while watching him intently.
“You heard me.”
Wooyoung laughs loudly at the attitude in San’s voice, and just shakes his head before focusing back on the rink. He eventually moves to the ramp once he feels like he’s stable enough on the board, and they spend another hour tossing comments back and forth until Wooyoung’s belly hurts from laughing so much. Luckily he doesn’t end up breaking a limb, and once he’s tired he just plops down on the bench next to San.
“Your skills aren’t half bad, I don’t know what you were on about.” San mumbles as he shows him all the pictures Wooyoung made him take.
“Aw, is that you complimenting me?” He coos at the older man, amused by the way he immediately frowns at him.
“You really are a brat, you know?”
There it is again. The way San says it doesn’t sound like he’s actually bothered by the fact, and it makes him want to tease further and see more of what the man has to offer. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
Their faces are close enough that he can see San’s eyes darken at the comment, and he doesn’t know what takes over him but he puts a hand on his thigh at the same time as he leans in closer. San doesn’t react, and Wooyoung can’t read much off of his face, but his thigh is firm under his palm and he can’t help but squeeze. It’s like they inch closer on pure instinct, until they’re sharing breaths and Wooyoung can trace his nose along San’s cheek softly, but before he can lean in to finally kiss him the sound of shouting and laughter makes him jump back abruptly.
He looks over at the entrance to see a group of kids rushing to get to the park, and he coughs awkwardly when he sees San is still sitting frozen next to him.
“The pictures are nice.” He says meekly, internally slapping his forehead at how weird he’s making this.
San just nods in response, pocketing his own phone before handing Wooyoung his, neither one of them addressing what just happened.
“Wanna get something to eat?”
“Sure.”
—
Things continue like that; they go out to do something random together a few times during the week, whether it’s to have dinner or walk around parks, and while it’s way different to how life used to be, it’s also not as horrible as Wooyoung expected.
San never brings up the skatepark thing again, and Wooyoung doesn’t plan on doing it himself, so they just never talk about it. Not talking about it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t obsessively think about it and imagine how things would’ve gone if they weren’t interrupted, but San just seems to slip back into his professional persona after that and Wooyoung feels pathetic for being so stuck up on it. He really needs to get laid.
It’s undeniable that he’s ridiculously attracted to the man, but he also knows what it would look like if he tried anything with him; San would reject him with the excuse of Wooyoung being his employer’s son, because he’s proper like that.
So he makes it a mission to find someone else that will make him stop thinking about San so much.
It takes a lot of persuasion and empty promises, but he manages to convince San to let him go to a club – with his supervision of course. It’s been a while since the last time the man actually accurately updated his father about things, and Wooyoung has a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t even care as much as he lets on. At least not anymore.
There’s been a clear shift in the way San acts around him and sure, there are a few instances where things get awkward – usually thanks to Wooyoung not being able to keep his dick in his pants, but that’s a whole different story – but most of the time the time they spend together is actually enjoyable.
Like tonight, with both of them sat at the bar and Wooyoung sipping on a cocktail simply because San won’t allow shots. Slow progress is still progress.
“Have you ever been to a club before? Aside from that time you dragged me out of one, of course.” Wooyoung asks when he sees the tense line of San’s body, so out of place surrounded by noise and colourful lights.
It doesn’t help that he apparently has no clothes except for suits, and he most certainly can’t fit in Wooyoung’s stuff, so he’s a glaring sight fully dressed in formal attire in the middle of a club. It’s kind of endearing.
San just turns to look at him, and he can clearly tell the man would rather be anywhere but here. “I’ll take that as a no.” Wooyoung laughs, turning around to lean against the bar and search the crowd for any pretty faces.
The memory of last time he went out to a place like this is pretty hazy to him considering he was drunk, but he could never forget an angry and distraught San dragging him outside. He had high hopes for tonight going better for him, but there isn’t anybody that attracts his attention and he just feels stuffy in the crowded place. He turns to look at San who’s staring at his own drink – which is really just a coke because he “shouldn’t be drinking on the job” and whatnot – and taps his shoulder to get his attention.
“I’m going out for a smoke,” he shouts over the music, “keep my spot, okay?”
San nods once in his direction and Wooyoung detaches himself from the man, heading towards the back exit. He takes a deep breath once he’s outside in the cool air and quickly pulls out a pack of cigarettes, not planning on staying for long because he’s already starting to shiver despite having a jacket.
The first lungful he inhales makes his muscles loosen slowly, and he closes his eyes and leans his head back on the brick wall behind him. The music from inside can still be heard, and Wooyoung finds himself thinking about the man that seems to occupy his every waking thought these days.
As if on cue, the back doors open again and Wooyoung opens his eyes, expecting San, but instead he’s met with a man he’s never seen before. He’s clearly older than him and his appearance is decent, but far from Wooyoung’s type. He doesn’t expect him to speak to him, writing him off as just another guy that needed a breather from the large crowd, but a second later the man is approaching him with confident steps.
“Hi there, pretty.” His voice is raspy, and the way his eyes slide over Wooyoung’s body makes his insides curl in discomfort.
He acknowledges him with a nod before taking another drag of his cigarette, hoping that the guy will take the message and leave him alone. Unfortunately basic decency doesn’t seem to be a part of his charm.
“I couldn’t help but notice you back there,” he says in a low tone, and Wooyoung feels trapped against the wall when he leans in close enough for their bodies to touch. “You look awfully familiar.”
Wooyoung holds back an eye roll at that. It’s one thing to get hit on by a guy he doesn’t want, but the additional factor of recognition just served to make him that much more annoyed.
“Maybe we’ve crossed paths here before.” He lies through his teeth, knowing that that most definitely didn’t happen considering this is his first time coming to this place.
The man puts a hand next to his head, and Wooyoung really needs to get away from this freak. “Maybe.” He basically purrs the word into his ear, making his face twist in unease.
“Listen, dude–” Wooyoung finally finds his voice, eager to just get this over with.
Before he can say anything though, he’s cut off when the door bursts open again, a concerned San standing in the doorway as his eyes frantically move over Wooyoung. He sighs in relief at the sight of him, taking use of the distraction to slip away from the man basically breathing down his neck.
“Hey,” San mumbles in his direction when Wooyoung goes to stand next to him, swaying closer as an arm wraps around his waist protectively. “What’s going on?”
“Come back here, pretty, I wasn’t done with you.” The stranger speaks again, and San is quick to push him back to stand behind him, squaring his shoulders before staring down the man that seems to be getting angrier by the second.
“He clearly doesn’t want to talk to you,” San tries to reason, and Wooyoung’s eyes widen when he catches sight of the small, shining blade tucked under the man’s sleeve. “Just move along.”
San easily moves to the side when the man lunges at them suddenly, and Wooyoung gasps as his back hits the wall behind him. He can’t focus on that though, not when there’s a blur of movement and groans coming from both of the men in front of him, and Wooyoung feels his heart thundering in his ears as he watches San fight the man off. He’s obviously bigger and stronger than him, and it’s not long until the guy is sprawled out on the floor, heaving and still trying to crawl closer to grab San’s ankle. Before he can do that San is pulling his leg back and kicking the side of his jaw one more time, the sound of a bone cracking loud in the small alleyway.
Wooyoung’s eyes are wide where he stands frozen next to the wall, but they immediately zero in on San when the man turns around to look at him with worry visible on his face.
One part of him is concerned and the other is so incredibly turned on, but there’s no time to focus on any of that when his eyes drop down to see a long patch of blood staining San’s torn up shirt.
“Fuck,” Wooyoung curses loudly, coming up to stand in front of the man with two quick strides. “You’re hurt.”
His heartbeat grows even more frantic, and he immediately reaches out to cover the wound with his hand. San hisses at the contact, and before either one of them can catch up with it Wooyoung is dragging the man along towards the car, body working on autopilot.
San goes to open the door to the driver’s seat, but Wooyoung pulls him to the passenger side, “You’re not driving like this, you idiot.”
It takes a bit of wrestling and convincing but he manages to finally shove San into the passenger seat, quickly running to the other side to get behind the wheel. He watches the man slip off his blazer, throwing it on the back seat before wiping his hands on his shirt, seemingly unbothered by the blood gushing out of his stomach.
“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Wooyoung asks incredulously, his mind still in overdrive because what the hell just happened.
“Calm down,” San tries to placate him, “it’s okay, it’s just a small graze. Nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious!? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He just stares at him in disbelief, scoffing a second later before opening the glove compartment and climbing over the console and into San’s lap with a first aid kit.
“What are you–”
“Shut up.” Wooyoung cuts off any protest, levelling San with a glare. “You’re fucking crazy.”
Silence takes over the car, the only sound that can be heard being Wooyoung’s panicked breaths and him fumbling with the kit in his hands. His brain still can’t catch up with anything and the adrenaline is pumping in his veins, the thought of San getting seriously hurt making him unable to think straight. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, fingers shaky and frantic, and it’s only when large hands come to rest over his own that he snaps his head up to look San in the eyes.
“Hey, hey,” San’s voice is gentle, calming, as he speaks. “It’s okay, I promise it’s not that bad.”
Wooyoung only notices he’s drawing blood on his bottom lip when San reaches up to tug it free from his teeth, thumb tracing over the flesh and making him shiver slightly.
“I still want to see.” Wooyoung whispers back, not being able to take his eyes off of San’s face, transfixed by the image he makes like this; cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat making his skin appear glossy under the lights filtering in from outside.
“Okay, that’s fine.” He responds just as quietly, neither one of them willing to disturb the peace that has settled around them.
Wooyoung’s hands are more steady this time around, but he still takes his time with each button, letting his fingers run over the bare skin being revealed the lower he goes. San helps him out by repositioning him in his lap when he goes to untuck the shirt from his pants, eyes immediately landing on the spot right under his ribs when he manages to pull off the material sticking to the wound.
He goes to touch again, keeping his fingers gentle while sliding them over the blood trickling down pale skin. There’s so many things running through his mind he has no idea what to do, and eventually he just drops his head down on San’s shoulder, his heartbeat slowly going back to normal.
San was right, the wound isn’t that deep, but all of that escapes Wooyoung’s mind when he feels the man’s hands come to rest on his thighs. He lets his own run over the rest of San’s body, revelling in the feeling of firm muscle under his palm, the way he can see his chest rising and falling with each breath. It’s a hypnotising image, but Wooyoung still has work to do.
He pulls back, having to hold back a whine at the way San is looking at him; head tilted back against the headrest and eyes heavy lidded as they stare at each other.
“I’m gonna clean you up.” Wooyoung mumbles into the space between them, not waiting for a response before reaching into the kit he set down on the console.
San leans back further into his seat and lets him do as he pleases, fully silent while Wooyoung does his best job of cleaning the wound and securing a bandage over it. Once he’s done he just traces a finger along the edge of it, mind replaying the image of San easily overpowering the man in the alleyway.
He laughs to himself slightly, looking up again and asking, “Why did you do that?”
San raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m committed to my job.”
“Right,” Wooyoung scoffs playfully, moving his hips down with purpose and smirking when he feels the bulge in San’s pants. “Is that why you’re hard right now? Commitment?”
He watches his lips part on a soft exhale as Wooyoung keeps rolling his hips, slow and precise. San looks absolutely delectable, and there’s really nothing he would love more than to ride the man right here, but he knows how this goes; he would continue to grind down, maybe even pull a few moans out of San, but eventually the man would pull away and leave Wooyoung disappointed and empty.
So he collects the last bit of self control he has and stops his hips, holding back a whine when he comes to a stop just to feel San’s hard cock pressing up against his ass.
San grunts a little, looking disoriented as he tightens the hands that are still sitting on Wooyoung’s thighs. “Why’d you stop?”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes at the question, grabbing San’s hands and pulling them off of his legs. “Because otherwise you would. It’s always the same thing right?” He tilts his head, pitching his voice so he can mimic all the times San lectured him. “ We shouldn’t do this Wooyoung, your father wouldn’t like this, you don’t know what you’re asking for, oh and of course my favourite: this is strictly a business arra—“
Before he can finish his mini rant there’s a hand on his nape pulling him forward, and then San is crashing their lips together in a messy kiss. Wooyoung yelps in surprise but quickly gets with the program, wrapping his fingers in San’s hair to deepen the kiss, groaning when the man’s hands end up on his ass. San takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past his lips and Wooyoung lets the man do whatever he wants, body going pliant in his hold.
“You need to shut up more often,” San murmurs between kisses, their movements frantic as they tug on each other’s clothes.
Wooyoung pulls on San’s hair harshly just to hear the man moan in response. “And if I don’t?”
San bites on his bottom lip, hands sliding under the waistband of his jeans to slide along the material of his underwear. Wooyoung smirks when the man pauses at the feeling of lace under his fingers.
“ God, Woo,” San groans out his name, throwing his head back. “You’re a fucking menace.”
Wooyoung giggles at the reaction, feeling deranged when he looks down to see San’s lips are red and spit slick. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, doesn’t know where to start when he’s been craving this for days. So he settles on trailing both of them down San’s shoulders, his chest and abs, down to his pants, and once it actually sets in what they’re about to do his movements turn frantic and desperate. He’s quick to unbuckle the man’s belt, drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of the bulge in his pants, and once he lifts his hips to give Wooyoung space to pull them down along with his boxers he whimpers at the size of him.
“ Fuck,” he curses softly when San tilts his head to start kissing down his neck, far from gentle as he bites and licks over the skin, obviously just as desperate as Wooyoung.
He goes back to humping San’s thigh in the cramped space, wrapping one hand around his cock to stroke him slowly. The responding noise of pleasure seems to reverberate through him, travelling down his spine and making goosebumps rise on his skin. San guides his hips while Wooyoung continues stroking him, eyes moving down to watch every bead of pre-cum that trickles out, whining softly as his tongue lolls out on instinct.
“What is it, hm?” San pushes his head up with a finger under his chin, other hand taking hold of Wooyoung’s wrist to stop his movements.
He pouts in protest, tightening his fingers around the man just to hear him groan. “Wanna taste you.” He mumbles, leaning in to lick over San’s bottom lip just as he thumbs at the tip of his cock.
San doesn’t bother with a reply, he just pulls his hand up until it’s in front of his face. Wooyoung’s breath hitches at the lust visible in his eyes, and his heartbeat picks up speed again when San’s tongue darts out to lick along his thumb that’s covered in pre-cum.
“ Oh ,” he mewls softly and bumps their foreheads together, brain glitching when San lets his hand go and pulls him into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth.
The taste of him is subtle on his tongue, but enough to make Wooyoung’s cock twitch in his underwear. He hisses when San finally starts unbuttoning his jeans, manoeuvring him so he can pull them off all the way along with his lace underwear. They end up somewhere on the car floor and San seems to be determined to get his top off as well, pulling away from the kiss to focus on detangling all the tied strings after taking off his jacket.
Wooyoung giggles at the fourth failed attempt, but it turns into a gasp when San just rips at the material. “Hey! That was my favourite shirt!”
“You have enough of them, you brat,” San growls, lunging forward to latch his lips around a nipple, wrapping both arms around his waist to hold him close.
He throws his head back in pleasure, raking his nails over San’s neck all while arching his back in search for more. The next time he rolls his hips his cock slots against San’s, resulting in both of them moaning loudly.
“Please,” Wooyoung pants, pushing up to his knees to make San’s cock slide between his ass cheeks. “ Fuck me. ”
His pleas turn into a high pitched whine when a hand comes down to smack one of his ass cheeks, San leaning in to nip on his jaw. “Patience, baby. You can’t take me just like this.”
The words are followed by a finger circling along his rim and Wooyoung knows he can’t, but that doesn’t stop him from whining petulantly regardless. He still obeys when two fingers are being pushed past his lips and San is murmuring a firm ‘suck’, making sure to hollow out his cheeks all while keeping up eye contact. The digits reach the back of his throat, pressing into his tongue, and Wooyoung feels his eyes water and drool trickle down San’s hand.
He doesn’t seem bothered by the mess, if anything his smirk just gets wider and then he’s pulling his fingers out, moving until he can press them up against his hole. Wooyoung takes the moment to try and get his bearings back, but San gives him no time before he’s pushing both fingers inside, making him gasp at the intrusion.
“San…fuck,” he lets his arms rest on the seat the man is occupying, his hips twitching with the urge to grind down for more. “Want you so bad.” He mumbles all while sucking marks over his neck, desperate to mark him thoroughly.
“Really?” San muses, scissoring his fingers inside of him. “How bad?”
Wooyoung whines when his fingers still inside of him, and one look into San’s eyes tells him what he wants him to do. So he grinds his hips down in small circles, desperate to feel San deeper inside of him, to have the man take him in any way he wants. His breaths get more laboured as he continues doing that for several torturous minutes, with San just watching with amusement and lust visible on his face.
“Please, I just wanna–” Wooyoung whimpers when San’s fingers graze his prostate, and it’s like he can barely breathe with how much he needs this. “So fucking bad, San. I just wanna feel you inside.”
San seems willing to have some mercy on him, and Wooyoung feels like he could cry when the fingers are being pulled out, the man spitting in his palm to slick up his cock before lining the tip up with Wooyoung’s hole. His breath catches in his throat, fingernails digging into the skin of San’s shoulder as his cock slowly breaches him.
They both groan in unison once San is fully inside of him, the stretch enough to make Wooyoung’s eyes roll back in pleasure. It’s not like he’s a virgin, far from it really, but he still has to take a moment to adjust.
“Shit, Woo, you’re so tight.”
The praise travels straight down to his cock, and he feels like he will burst at the seams if he doesn’t move. So he starts with slow rolls of his hips, gasping every time the tip of San’s cock presses up against his prostate. It’s intense, overwhelming, and it’s not long before he’s properly bouncing on his cock, gut twisting with every noise he pulls out of San.
He shudders when fingers wrap up in his hair just to pull his head back, leaving his neck bared for the older man to suck and bite at the skin, down to his nipples and up again. It’s fucking heaven, unlike any pleasure Wooyoung has felt, and it only multiplies when two hands come down to grip his ass hard enough to bruise, helping him move up and down San’s cock.
Their lips eventually connect in a filthy kiss and it’s rough and messy, both of them panting into it. It’s perfect.
It’s on a particularly harsh thrust that Wooyoung’s legs give out, body going limp and he manages to catch himself with a hand around the door handle. It doesn’t matter anyway, because San’s hands immediately come up to grip his waist, balancing him quickly.
“You okay, baby?” The pet name only serves to make Wooyoung feel even more insane, and the way it smoothly rolls off of San’s tongue doesn’t help in any way whatsoever.
Wooyoung manages a small nod because he’s more than okay, he’s fucking ecstatic, but he’s also way too blissed out to properly ride the man. “Want me to do the work, huh? Spoiled little brat.” The words are supposed to sound like a reprimand, but all Wooyoung can do is whine loudly.
It turns into a noise of surprise when San pulls him off his cock just to turn him around in his lap, his back making contact with the man’s solid body. He gasps at the change of position and the hands coming up to hold his thighs close to his chest, so he reaches down to grip San’s cock again and line it up with his entrance so the man can push back inside of him.
He tilts his head to the side to give San space to kiss down his neck, holding tightly onto his forearms as the man fucks into him with vigor.
“I knew you were shameless, pretty, but I didn’t know you’re this much of a slut.” San whispers into his ear and Wooyoung makes a confused sound, but his silent question is being answered a second later when San continues, “We could be seen by anybody here, do you get off on that? You want another scandal?”
Wooyoung gasps at the words, eyes shooting open to look outside. It hits him suddenly that they really could be seen like this, and he can only laugh at the fact that he was so needy and desperate that he didn’t pay it any mind. If anything though, it makes his arousal double down, the drag of San’s cock inside of him that much more intense, and he tosses his head back on the man’s shoulder so his lips are level with his ear.
“Maybe I do, so you should fuck me harder don’t you think?” He licks along the shell of San’s ear, smirking at the long groan he gets in response.
“Fucking hell, Woo,” San grunts out, the grip on his thighs turning bruising as his thrusts pick up speed, making Wooyoung babble incoherently.
He keeps kissing over San’s jaw, bringing one hand up to run it through his hair and tug on it, enjoying each and every sound he manages to pull out. He feels his pleasure growing – the coil of arousal in his belly going higher and higher until it’s almost choking him – and he lets his eyes move over to the building in front of them, the doors of the club opening and closing every now and then, groups of people walking in and out. The fact that they can be clearly seen from this distance is what pushes him over the edge, along with the cock dragging along his prostate with every thrust.
His orgasm is so intense his vision whites out for a second, cock twitching as he spurts out ropes of come all over his belly and chest. He digs his fingernails into San’s nape, whimpering out his name over and over again as the man continues fucking him through his high. He’s sensitive and overwhelmed, but he lets San use him for his own pleasure, clenching around him tightly and leaning up to claim his lips in a nasty kiss.
It isn’t long before San is coming as well with a drawn out groan, hips stuttering as he fills Wooyoung up with his come, biting into his bottom lip hard. Wooyoung squirms and jerks in his hold, body in overdrive with how amazing everything feels. It’s almost too much, the warmth of San’s body and the feeling of being so full, but Wooyoung revels in it while they take the time to calm down.
“ Shit , that was fucking amazing,” he groans out when he feels like he can talk again, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
His legs drop down when San lets him go, and he hums in satisfaction at the fact that he’s is still inside of him. He sighs softly when the man wraps an arm around his waist, his free hand coming up to tilt Wooyoung’s head until their eyes can meet again. There’s a moment of silence before both of them are bursting into a fit of giggles, San hugging him tightly before burrowing his face in his neck.
Wooyoung lets him do as he pleases, taking the moment to close his eyes and run his fingers along the arms that are wrapped around his middle. It’s peaceful, Wooyoung’s mind finally empty of all unnecessary panic and overthinking he’s used to.
“Think this makes for a satisfying headline?” San murmurs into his neck, making Wooyoung snort loudly.
He slowly moves until he can twist in San’s lap, whining a little when he feels the come dribbling out of him, but he just settles down until their noses are touching, wide smiles splitting both their faces in half.
“Guess we’ll see tomorrow.”
San chuckles slightly, and it sounds so warm Wooyoung can’t help but kiss him softly, whispering against his lips, “Guess we will.”
—
“You were supposed to keep him in line!”
Wooyoung is seated on the couch in his father’s office, San sitting just a few inches away from him. It’s no surprise that they ended up here, but it’s even funnier than Wooyoung imagined.
The sight of San back in full attire and a serious expression on his face is extremely amusing to him, and he has to keep a hand in front of his mouth to stop himself from laughing in his father’s face.
“I’m aware, sir.”
“So why were you out clubbing with him!?”
Really, his father should be grateful that no one took pictures of them while San was balls deep inside of Wooyoung. They got incredibly lucky with that, but deep down he wishes he could see his father’s reaction at the knowledge that his precious employee is actually fucking his son instead of keeping him in line. It would probably send him into cardiac arrest.
“It was a mistake, sir.” San keeps his head down, hands clasped on top of his thighs. “I just thought–”
“Well you’re not paid to think.” His father cuts him off, obviously tired of this conversation. “Whatever, you two can get out. Don’t let this happen again, you’re supposed to be a professional.”
They both nod quickly before saying their goodbyes, two guards rushing to lead them outside. Wooyoung finally lets out the laugh he’s been holding in once they’re both in the car and driving away from the building, tears gathering in his eyes at the thought of his father’s face once he found out.
“I see you’re very happy with yourself,” San smiles in his direction, the hand on his thigh squeezing once.
Wooyoung dramatically slaps it away, smirking at the surprise on San’s face. “That’s not very professional of you, Choi San.”
The man just rolls his eyes at him, gripping his chin and leaning over the console once they’re at a red light. “Want me to go back to being professional then?”
Wooyoung pecks his lips twice, their shared laughter filling the car. “Don’t even think about it.”