Work Text:
SAN's POV
I didn't know exactly when I'd messed up.
Or maybe I did. It was when I replied to that text.
Just one.
Just to tell him: “Don't look for me anymore. I'm fine. And I'm with someone I love.”
I read it a thousand times before sending it.
It was respectful. Clear. Definitive.
But Wooyoung found it on my phone while looking for a photo I'd taken of him.
I didn't say anything at first.
His face changed. He went still.
Then, he just looked at me.
And that silence hurt me more than any scream.
“Why did you talk to him?” he asked in a low, restrained voice.
“To close something that was already dead. So he'd leave me alone.”
“You could have just told me.”
“I thought it didn't matter…”
And that was the mistake. I thought wrong.
Wooyoung didn't argue further.
He didn't scream. He didn't leave.
He just left me with that lump in my chest all day, until night fell and his silhouette appeared in my bedroom doorway.
Without words. Without permission.
"Are you still angry?" I asked carefully.
He didn't answer.
He walked toward me. He closed the door.
The click resonated like a judgment.
"I hate you," he whispered.
And then he kissed me.
The air shattered between us. His tongue invaded my mouth with desperation.
He pushed me against the wall, his body crushing mine, marking his territory. His hands moved down my torso, urgent, aggressive, tearing off my shirt.
"Do you like it when I go crazy for you?" he growled against my ear. "Is that what you wanted?"
"No... yes... I don't know," I gasped.
He bit my neck hard. I cried out softly.
My legs were already shaking.
"Did you talk to him like that? With that voice?" she asked angrily. A hand went straight down to the hem of my pants, brutally ripping them off. "Did you say 'Wooyoung' to him in your head when you texted him?"
"I just wanted him to leave," I replied, my breath ragged. "I just wanted him to know there was nothing left..."
His fingers stroked me firmly, not gently, making me moan against his shoulder.
"Mine is all you want now, isn't it?"
"Yes. Just you."
He rolled me onto my back, his chest against my back, his breath on my neck. He pulled down my underwear with fierce impatience.
He gently pushed me onto the bed, and I felt him position himself behind me.
He did it without warning, like a surge of desire.
The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. His hips pounded against mine with a merciless rhythm, deeper, harder.
I felt my body tense, him filling me completely, pleasure and pain intertwining on an invisible cord.
His fingers dug into my hip. His teeth scraped my shoulder.
His voice called to me furiously:
"Say it."
"W-what?"
"Say it. I'm the only one."
"You're the only one," I yelled. "Only you, Wooyoung. Always you."
He moaned like a wounded, starving animal. He leaned over me, his lips, filled with rage, running down my spine like a hot river.
He touched me with one hand while pounding into me with the other, forcing me to feel him in every fiber of my body.
"You're mine, aren't you?"
"I'm yours."
"Is there no one else?"
"Never."
"I'm going to make you remember that," he said, almost tenderly.
And he did.
He took me to the edge again and again.
He made me beg, plead, scream his name.
He emptied me of all the fear, all the guilt, all the weight between us.
He broke me with his hands, with his mouth, with his cock.
And I let him.
Because that was love, too.
When he finished, he collapsed beside me, his chest heaving, his face buried in the pillow.
I was still shaking.
My whole body ached. But I smiled.
Because Wooyoung was there. He hadn't left.
A few minutes passed. Then he turned and hugged me from behind, his breath warm on my neck.
"Don't make me doubt you again," he murmured. "You don't know what it feels like to imagine you loving someone else."
I turned to look at him. His eyes were bright.
He wasn't crying, but almost.
"I didn't mean to. I just went to find some closure so I could love you without any shadows."
He looked at me as if seeing the truth for the first time.
"And I... I love you even when I hate you a little," he said with a broken smile.
"Me too. Even if you break me," I replied.
"Did I break you?"
"A little," I joked, pointing dramatically at my hips.
Wooyoung laughed softly and kissed my forehead.
"I promise I'll be gentler next time."
"Lie."
"Maybe," he whispered. "But I'll always be yours."
"And I'll always be yours. Completely."
We hugged like that, naked, his sweat still on my skin, my body aching but full.
Because love is also that.
Passion. Fury. Fear. Pain.
And then, calm.
A warm calm, where two bodies understand each other better than words.
Wooyoung kissed me once more before falling asleep, whispering a final "sorry" against my lips.
I just replied,
"Thank you for staying."
And he did.
Like always.
Like he always would.