all jung wooyoung ever wanted was to go about life like he always did, and that worked for him; until the top-tier celebrity choi san was in the picture, that is.
but there was a catch; wooyoung was his anti-fan.
start: august 9, 2023
end: septembe...
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san had a lot of plans for the day, but carrying an intoxicated wooyoung on his back was not one of them.
wooyoung, along with his drinking partner, was passed out when san came to get him. there was really not much he could do to help the other guy besides call the most recent person in his contacts. thankfully, nobody at the bar had been in their right mind to see through the usual cap and mask that san had worn to disguise himself. wooyoung was not as heavy as he'd anticipated, despite his perfect dancer physique; maybe it was all thanks to san's broad shoulders and his arms that were probably the size of wooyoung's face. that didn't mean that san didn't struggle with bringing him back home.
he turned to his side uncomfortably, using his keys to open the door to his apartment. wooyoung was in no state to give him the keys to his own place and san couldn't really be bothered to search him for it. did he really have to drink so much? san had really been looking forward to spending the evening with him.
once inside, he shut the door behind him with a kick, finally dropping wooyoung back down on his couch. san plopped down next to him and practically sunk into the sofa, sighing. wooyoung murmured from next to him with an uncomfortable expression on his face and san peered down at him. he didn't really take wooyoung to be the messy drunk type, considering how he was always so stern and cold. the sight of him being so wasted inevitably brought a smile onto san's face.
his black and blonde hair that was tied into the usual ponytail was disheveled, a few strands coming loose and framing his forehead. a rosy shade of pink tinted his hollow cheeks. he was still in his tank top and sweatpants, meaning he'd gone to the bar as soon as he had gotten off from work.
the situation reminded san of his first few days at the apartment. specifically, the time that he had gotten so drunk that he'd passed out in wooyoung's presence. wooyoung—who san believed to be his #1 hater, because of the impression he'd left on him on the very first day they met—took care of san that night, even leaving some medicines and a not-so-caring note.
san remembered how embarrassed he was the morning after. the realization that he'd shown that side of him to somebody that disliked him so much was a heavy blow to his ego. he remembered the entire situation like it was just yesterday; it was also when san had started to grow curious of the boy living next door. would they have ever come this far if it weren't for wooyoung's hatred?
well, now it was san's turn to nurse wooyoung back to consciousness. san looked down at his wristwatch and sighed. it was half past eleven in the night. what was he going to do with wooyoung? it wasn't like he could just go to bed and leave him sitting like that, just because he had to get up for work early.
san slapped wooyoung's face back and forth like a pendulum, hoping it would help him regain consciousness. "hey, wooyoung, are you awake yet?" he asked and wooyoung groaned in response, creasing his brows.
"leave me alone," he grumbled and tried to shove san's hands away, finally opening his eyes. his eyebrows uncreased as soon as he met eyes with a helpless choi san. "oh! it's you," he grinned sloppily, trying to keep his eyes open.
"happy to see me?" san said sarcastically and rubbed his tired eyes. wooyoung shook his head vehemently.
"it's you," he repeated, pointing an unsteady finger at san. "you, choi... choi san? yeah. what are you doing in my house? i don't like you." he stumbled over his words and san scoffed. so drunk wooyoung was the truthful kind? san crossed his arms, waiting for him to speak his mind further.
"you should give up on acting. you really can't act. you suck. you really think you're all that, huh? well, park seonghwa is like, ten. no, one hundred times better than you, you know that?" wooyoung was a stammering mess as he spoke, and he shot up from his seat abruptly. "hey," he said, grabbing san by his sweatshirt and forcing him up. "get out... of my house. get out."
san could only watch with his mouth wide open as wooyoung pointed to the door. "this is my house, wooyoung," he reminded, but wooyoung shook his head confidently. he pushed a stunned san towards the door, trying not to trip over his own two feet.
he'd really expected some sweet words from drunk wooyoung, but it turned out he was an inconsiderate menace even when he was intoxicated. san grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him steady in his place.
"wooyoung, you're drunk," san said as if the dancer was in any condition to understand the words coming out of his mouth. "you can borrow my bed for the night. i'll take the couch. okay?" he turned him around, heading for the bedroom, but wooyoung suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"bed?!" he exclaimed, turning around to glare at san. he had a sour expression his face. "you're trying to lure me into your bedroom? do you even know who you're messing with?! you, you..." he paused like he was preparing to scream at the top of his lungs, drawing his fist back.
"...you pervert!" he exploded, and san could only stare wide-eyed at wooyoung's fist that was swinging forward in the speed of light, heading for his frightened and unprepared face.
