push & pull
angsty woosan oneshot
‼️dead dove do not eat / mention of alcohol & substances / toxic situationship / implied/slight smut / mentions of depression / friends to toxic lovers? / internalized homophobia
Author's note: this one-shot takes inspiration from two Chappell Roan songs Casual and Good Luck Babe. I would recommend listening to these songs while reading to get the full effect. I also have an A03, where I will be posting other series and oneshots, but don't worry, I will keep updating on Tumblr. My A03 is @/bittenfawn
Unfortunately, waking up in dingy motel rooms on the outskirts of Seoul was a regular occurrence for San.
The room was riddled with empty alcohol bottles, half-eaten carry-out containers, balled-up clothing that smelled like sweat and cologne, and a thin layer of regret and sadness clinging to every surface like a stuffy Christmas candle. The empty condom wrapper sat on the nightstand. At the same time, ecstasy pills were crushed up like Fun Dip powder. His pants sat inside near the edge of the bed, damp with something he couldn’t even name.
San looked at the clock on the nightstand next to him. The bright red numbers flashed the time back at him aggressively.
It was 5:45 am.
The sun was slowly rising, its rays peeking through the blinds, but oddly enough, the room still felt dark.
It wasn’t the type of darkness that you could fix with a light source. It was the type of darkness that ruminates within your skin and settles within your bones until it makes it into your psyche.
San shifted slowly, careful not to disturb the silhouette peacefully sleeping beside him.
Jung Wooyoung
A stranger, essentially. But not really. At least not the traditional sense…They knew everything about each other’s bodies, every scar, freckle, and soft place to land. But somehow, whenever Wooyoung woke beside him, he felt more like a distant memory slowly fading out of existence. He was there physically, of course, yet he still felt unreachable.
A stranger was wearing his best friend’s skin like a dress
San looked over at him for a moment. Somehow, he was still stunning while he slept. His lips were slightly parted, and his bleached blond hair messily lay on his forehead. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t just wreck San for the fifth time this month. Like this was just a casual thing “friends” do. Like, San wasn’t slowly losing his mind.
Maybe this was normal for Wooyoung.
Just another dingy motel filled with drugs and alcohol, while the smell of sex and expensive cologne scent the room.
San’s stomach was doing backflips as anxiety bubbles. He exhaled through his nose and sat up, running his hands through his hair.
But it hadn’t always been this way
It all started with a scraped knee…
San was eight, and Wooyoung had pushed him off the jungle gym at the local park after school, not with malicious intentions, but with dumb, boyish excitement. San had hit the mulch-covered pavement, scraping his knees and palms, which were also stinging red from breaking his fall.
He remembers holding back his tears, trying not to cry in front of anyone, let alone Wooyoung. But Wooyoung had crouched beside him, his tiny fingers brushing the dirt on his knee. Then he leaned down and kissed the scrape. Soft. Like it was instinct.
Just like that something snapped in San…
He never told anyone; he couldn’t describe his warm feeling for his best friend. He knew it wasn’t platonic, but he knew that liking boys, especially ones who are your best friend, was taboo to say the least. His feelings felt like a cancerous infection deepening every day. San would write Wooyoung’s name in the back of his notebook, which he used for school, and doodle little hearts around like the girls in his grade would do with their crushes. After a while, he would messily scratch his doodles, ashamed of what he did.
They grew up inseparable. Sleepovers where they stayed up all night watching horror movies, legs tangled under the covers. Bike rides where Wooyoung would pull ahead and then circle back, grinning, shouting, “Come on, Sannie!”
San always followed.
He followed Wooyoung into middle school. Into high school. Wooyoung was popular among the girls of his school. Whenever San saw Wooyoung, he was either pillow talking to some girl or getting a confession like clockwork. San couldn’t help but feel jealous, but at the end of the day, you shouldn’t feel like this towards your best friend; it’s not right, especially since you both are guys.
San decided to date around. He had gotten confessions from girls in the school before, but always turned them down, saying that he was focusing on studies and not telling them why he was trying to fill the oddly Wooyoung-shaped void. Compared to his feelings when he was younger, he now felt like all his thoughts had grown teeth and slowly feasted on his psyche, like a leech.
After a while, he gave up on dating every girl he went out with; he felt like he was leading them on, and they didn’t deserve that, but even though he stopped dating, Wooyoung continued. He watched him flirt without fear. Watched him smile that perfect smile at everyone but him.
And yet, San stayed. Hoping.
The first real crack came in high school. San was sixteen. They were alone in Wooyoung’s room, lying side by side on the floor, too close, pretending they weren’t. A movie played quietly in the background, forgotten. San’s heart was pounding too loudly.
Wooyoung sat up pushing back his jet black locs looking over at San studying his features slowly
“Have you ever kissed a guy before?”
Wooyoung asked, out of nowhere.
San whipped his head around, his breath hitching, as he was startled by the question. He couldn’t find the words to express his thoughts, so he quickly stuttered out a response
“N-no. Have you?”
Wooyoung shrugged, grinning with his toothy smile that always made San’s heart race a mile a minute. Wooyoung moved closer to San, placing his hands on his thigh, then looking up at him with his brown eyes that were so deep it was like staring into a cup of dark coffee
“Wanna try it?”
Those words echoed in San’s mind .
Wooyoung had to be joking…
It can’t be a joke.
Right?
But San leaned in anyway.
Wooyoung leaned in, holding San’s face, kissing his lips like he’d craved this feeling. San was flabbergasted, to say the least. He felt like he could barf up his heart because it was beating so fast, but San kissed back. It was a dream come true in San’s eyes. But he couldn’t help but wonder why Wooyoung did this. Why did Wooyoung kiss him?
Wooyoung pulled away, wiping the excess spit from his plump lips, stood up, and looked down at San, still sitting on the ground. A soft giggle left his lips as he stared at San. The type of giggle that could warm hearts, specifically San’s.
“You are such a good kisser, Sannie. I never kissed a guy before, maybe you should be my practice partner.
“You wouldn't mind, right?”
San pretended to laugh too, even as something in his chest collapsed quietly. He couldn’t believe what he heard, but wasn’t surprised either. All San could do was flash a small fake smile before speaking
“If you want..I don't mind.”
That night, San walked to the train station with headphones, replaying the moment from earlier. The way Wooyoung's lips felt on his, the warmth and comfort swallowed him whole. It played on a constant loop on the train ride back to his home. It shouldn’t have been that serious because it was just practice.
But was it?
Was it really practice?
After that night, something changed in San's look at him. It got harder to hide, harder to breathe when Wooyoung walked into a room. He started catching feelings like a sickness: quiet and persistent, impossible to shake.
And Wooyoung?
He never seemed to notice.
Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn’t care
Years passed.
They stayed in each other’s lives, even when they weren’t supposed to. Even when the timing was wrong, even when they were both with other people. San dated quietly, loved clumsily. No one ever lasted. No one was ever Wooyoung.
After college, they slipped into different lives.
San secured a position as a financial advisor in Uptown Seoul, working in a sleek office, dressed in tailored suits, with extended hours and early mornings. This was the life one builds when striving to prove stability, a life that looked impressive on paper..
Wooyoung, on the other hand, was chasing nights he never wanted to end. A club promoter in Itaewon, always on guest lists, always drenched in sweat, bass, perfume, and champagne. He lived in the dark, thunderous music, strobe lights, and strangers pressed against his body like heat.
Wooyoung wore leather and glitter.
San wore pressed collars and wristwatches.
They lived in different universes.
And yet, somehow, they kept finding their way back to each other.
They hadn’t spoken in four months.
And then came Seonghwa’s gallery opening
San went to support his best friend. He wore a black turtleneck and clean slacks, the same scent he always wore: sandalwood and French vanilla. His hair was brushed neatly. His smile was warm. His heart was barricaded.
The gallery's internal walk was going smoothly. San mingled with other attendees while enjoying the fancy finger sandwiches that Seongwha had catered. The night was going as planned. There were no distractions or disruptions; nothing was going to ruin this night for San.
About two hours later, right before the after-party started, San was at the bar getting a glass of Merlot when a familiar scent hit his nose, almost making him shiver. The scent was incredibly infectious. The hints of cherry and champagne made San bite his lip softly. He looked up from his drink; his eyes met the source of that scent that paralyzed him.
It was Wooyoung
He wore a white linen button-up unbuttoned to reveal the outline of his chest. Silver rings adorned his fingers, while cherry-scented lip gloss and unwashed silver body glitter complemented his complexion
The eyes of that man that hadn’t seen San in months but still knew where to land.
He was late.
He always was.
San felt his stomach drop to his butt. The night was going perfectly until he showed. He felt like this was going to be the one night that Wooyoung wanted to play psychological warfare games on him, especially at an event that wasn’t his.
The worst part is that San had already locked eyes with Wooyoung. Like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. Wooyoung was beautiful
Wooyoung smirked from across the room as he approached Seongwha to congratulate him on his gallery's success.
It’s only been an hour since the after-party, and San is on his third glass of Merlot, swishing it around in the wine glass, staring out into the crowd. He is contemplating whether he will go home since watching Wooyoung flirt with anyone is slowly killing him, but the wine is numbing the blow slightly.
As San sipped wine, feeling the alcohol melt on his lips, the acidity and sweetness lingering, the scent of danger appeared again. Wooyoung slithered his way next to San, his sweet cologne filling up the very little personal space they shared
“You look good,” he said, voice low
“Different Too..”
San sighed before looking into Wooyoung’s eyes with a dark and tired expression.
“You don’t.”
Wooyoung tilted his head to the side, staring at San with those same dark eyes San gave, but instead of the look of sadness and dread, his eyes were filled with lust and desire
"I missed you, Sannie. I know I haven't called, I've just been so busy with the club and the parties I have to attend, and promote."
Wooyoung leaned in even more with a slight pouty expression, his fingers tracing San's veins on the top of his hands slowly before looking in the other man's eyes once again
"Did you miss me, Sannie?"
San swallowed his spit, feeling his mind race. Was he still upset? He couldn’t be? He missed Wooyoung? But Wooyoung isn’t a healthy person to be around?
San stared at Wooyoung, his eyes tired but now lustful, grabbed Wooyoung’s face, kissing him. His lips still tasted like the merlot he was downing like pills to numb the pain.
Wooyoung kissed back, smirking internally. He had gotten exactly what he wanted. He deepened the kiss, cupping his hand on the crook of San's neck to steady himself. He pulled away, grabbed San's hand, pulled off the couch, and dragged him out of the after-party, searching for a more secluded area
They found a bathroom within the Gallery.
Wooyoung kissed him like he was trying to punish him. Like he wanted to make him forget why he ever pulled away.
San let him. Because he wanted to believe, just for one night, that maybe he meant something to Wooyoung.
Wooyoung stood in front of San, slowly undoing his belt buckle before getting on his knees in front of him with a devil-like smirk and pretty doll eyes, looking up at San
“Seems like you missed me, huh, Sannie?” Wooyoung said, pulling down his boxers, exposing San’s hard cock that was aching for Wooyoung’s touch.
San flinched slightly, swallowing hard, his heart racing a mile a minute. He stared at Wooyoung, his lips trembling as he tried to find the right words. Who could blame him? The guy of his dreams, somebody he always runs back to, no matter how bad they treat him, is now sitting in front of him on his knees, flashing those beautiful eyes he adores.
“I-I missed you…quite a bit actually” San said his cheeks flushed as he swallowed hard.
Wooyoung’s smile turned wicked, eyes glinting like a predator’s. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the tip of San’s cock first, deliberate and slow, before wrapping his lips around San completely, gaze never breaking. Dark, lust-heavy eyes stared up at him like a siren’s call, like he was both danger and salvation in one breath.
San covered his mouth, trying to stifle the choked whimpers clawing out of his throat. His glasses fogged from his ragged breath as he watched Wooyoung take him deeper, warm, slick mouth working him over like he had something to prove, like he wanted San to forget every reason he ever left.
And just like always, San did.
San’s head fell back against the cold tile wall, his free hand clutching Wooyoung’s hair, tugging just enough to remind himself this was real, that Wooyoung was here.
It felt good. Too good. The kind of good that made San hate himself a little because he knew how this would end. It always ended the same. But right now, with Wooyoung’s lips wrapped around him, eyes glassy and hungry, San let himself fall deep into lust and love.
“God, Wooyoung…” San’s voice cracked, low and shaky. His knees trembled, his chest heaving, and for a fleeting second, he let himself imagine this was love. Not a mistake, not something temporary. Just love
Wooyoung pulled back slowly, a trail of spit connecting his lips to San’s swollen cock. He smirked up at him, wiping his mouth with his hand before standing, pressing their mouths together again, messy and unrestrained. Wooyoung tasted like alcohol and peppermint gum, like every bad decision San ever made. When they finally broke apart, San’s forehead rested against his, breathless and raw.
For a second, it almost felt safe.
For a second, San thought maybe this time would be different.
But thinking that was just gullible in itself, there was always that inkling in San’s mind that one day this would turn into something more than hooking up in random bathrooms and motels.
Maybe it will be lovely dates at restaurants that they’ve never tried, or walking along the beach together, exploring different things in nature, or even something domestic, cooking together in the kitchen, just embracing each other and looking at each other like they were the last people on earth.
After the gallery, San hadn’t seen Wooyoung for weeks. This was typical. After Wooyoung got what he wanted, he would ghost until he needed that fill again.
No calls. No texts. Not even a email
The same typical behavior.
It didn’t even matter if San reached out first because he would’ve just been talking to himself in Wooyoung’s messages like a crazy person. He didn’t wanna seem like he was thirsty for Wooyoung’s attention, but deep down, he knew he was.
Drinking and occasionally doing drugs would settle his nerves. It was either that or constantly crying his eyes out. Responsibility didn’t stop when your heart was stomped on over and over again. This whole relationship continually sent him into spirals of depression that he couldn’t pull himself out of, but he had a job to do and things to pay, such as bills.
It was Seonghwa who pulled him out of his fog weeks later.
“San,” Seonghwa’s voice was soft over the phone, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “I know you’ve been a bit…sad lately. We’re having a dinner thing at Mingi’s place this Friday. Just friends. You should come.”
San hesitated, staring at half smoked joint in his hand. “I don’t know, Hwa. I’m not exactly good company these days.”
“You don’t have to be,” Seonghwa replied gently. “Just… let us remind you that you’ve got people who actually care.”
San huffed, and perhaps it was the raw sincerity in his friend's voice that prompted him to say yes.
Seongwha was right; he needed to leave his apartment and focus on something other than Wooyoung and his stressful job situation, but something profound in San’s gut hated this idea.
Staying positive was the goal here. Right?
The apartment was warm, laughter spilling through the open windows, music humming low beneath clinking glasses. The smell of Mingi’s cooking clung to the air, and for a moment,
San thought maybe
just maybe
tonight wouldn’t hurt
But then he saw him.
Wooyoung was leaning against the kitchen island, a drink in hand, grinning at a girl San didn’t recognize. She laughed, twirling her hair, leaning closer every time he spoke. he had that look in his eyes, the look he would always give San, the look of love, the look of hopefulness the look of desire the look that people talk about in movies the one that is so identifiable when you’re slowly falling in love.
Wooyoung looked at that girl the way San always begged the universe to make him look at him like she was the only person in the world. San craved that look, craved it until it ached in his chest.
He wanted Wooyoung to see him, like him, and make him feel like more than a second choice. Instead, all he ever felt was disgust curdling in his stomach, sadness heavy in his bones, loneliness gnawing at his ribs. And above everything else, his heartbreak was sharp, relentless, and alive.
San pretended not to notice Wooyoung and grabbed a plate of food sitting next to Seongwha, trying not to make a scene at Mingi’s party. It wouldn’t be fair to him, plus. Wooyoung had every reason to be here as much as he did, so if he didn’t think about it or at least confront him out in public, he wouldn’t publicly humiliate himself or make Mingi look bad
It was strange to think about this situation he was in with Wooyoung, which was so debilitating on everything, his psyche, his heart. He constantly felt like a punching bag for him in some ways. But the attention and love Wooyoung gave San was more addictive than any drug he’s ever taken. It was like Wooyoung was like an opioid, and San was the addict craving that high like clockwork
After dinner, San slipped away to the bathroom, gripping the sink with white knuckles, trying to calm the ache clawing up his chest. His reflection looked like a ghost's eyes red, jaw clenched, his face almost drained of its color. He just needed a breath of fresh air, needed to get through this event without breaking in front of everyone.
But of course, the universe wasn’t that kind. Because there he was.
Wooyoung, leaning against the hallway wall like he owned it, drink in hand, one hand tucked lazily into his pocket. That easy, devastating grin was already tugging at his lips, the one that made San’s stomach twist no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.
“Finally,” Wooyoung drawled, his voice dripping with teasing warmth.
“I thought you were gonna hide in there all night.” He took a slow step closer, eyes glittering under the hallway light.
San swallowed hard, nails biting into his palms. He hated how his pulse jumped just from hearing that voice. “Who’s the girl you came in with?” he asked, trying to sound steady, but it came out quieter, desperate.
Wooyoung grinned like something was funny.
"That's Minjoo, she's a dancer at the club I work at. Isn't she hot? I've been fucking with her for about a week and she's fantastic. She's not clingy, she doesn't expect me to call her, she isn't catching feelings for me, she knows this is all casual. Plus, she's on the pill, so she won't get pregnant." Wooyoung said softly, taking a sip of his drink.
San was taken aback, his head tilted to the side, trying to grasp what Wooyoung said fully. The words coming out of his mouth didn’t even feel real. It felt like a sick joke. It was one thing for Wooyoung to be catty and snippy, but it was another when he was being full-on disrespectful
“You’re unbelievable,” San’s voice echoed the sound of is attitude shifting.“You talk to women like that? But I shouldn’t be surprised you speak to me like this all the time, so do you treat everybody like a second-class citizen, or is it just the people you claimed to be in love with?”
Wooyoung's eyes widened before letting out a guttural laugh, looking at San, his eyes tearing up from how funny and unbelievable the words coming out of San’s mouth were. He wiped away his laughter tears, slowly catching his breath.
“This is the funniest shit I’ve heard all day, you think I’m in love with you? Oh my God, for somebody who works in a profession where you use your brain often. You sure do act like you don’t have one. For all I know, it could be fucking hollow up there.”
Wooyoung took a sip of his drink, the sparkling wine danced on his lips as he stared at San’s eyes.
The same pathetic eyes would stare back at Wooyoung after every hookup.
The same ones would stare back at him after ghosting San for months.
The same ones who would beg and plead with him not to leave every single time.
“I never liked you; you were always about convenience for me, and you knew our situation. Why would I have feelings for someone I’m casually hooking up with? I think you’re just a bit delusional.”
San’s heart pounded his face feeling warm with anger but also embarrassment.
“I’m delusional? You got to be fucking kidding me, you’re the one who kissed me when we were sixteen, you were the one who held me while I was asleep when we used to have sleepovers.”
San’s jaw trembled as he tried to keep his voice from breaking.
"You were the one who said you loved me right after the first time we slept together. You say it every time, like it’s nothing. But what about that night at the gallery? Did that mean nothing to you? The way you kissed me, the way you looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered, don’t lie and say that didn’t mean something, Wooyoung."
Wooyoung smirked, a low, wicked chuckle curling from his lips as he shook his head in disbelief
“San, are you seriously still hung up on that kiss? That was years ago. I was curious, nothing more. That moment was nothing more than an experiment, plus we were kids, and did stupid shit. You are acting like this kiss was some life-altering moment.”
He tilted his head, scoffing, thinking this situation is utterly pointless and laughable
"And now you're dragging up the gallery like it was some romantic milestone? You mean the night I sucked you off in a filthy bathroom while you moaned my name like the desperate slut you are, and you think that was love? It's also baffling that you feel the kiss that followed was some sort of grand confession of love."
His eyes turned cold as he stared at San with annoyance bubbling beneath the surface like a kettle.
“Grow up. Get a grip.”
San's throat burned as he held in his tears
"It meant something to me, Woo. I have loved you since we were kids, even when I thought it was wrong. For years, I sat in denial, hoping and praying I would actually get over the fact I had a crush on my best friend...on my best friend who is a man."
San's tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, burning his flesh.
Wooyoung stared at him, face unreadable. Not pity, not regret. Just that same infuriating calm detachment.
“That’s your problem, not mine. You want a medal for struggling with your sexuality? For secretly loving your best friend who’s a man? Boo-fucking-hoo.”
San let out a shaky breath, his tears still falling
“You know what? Fuck you, Wooyoung.”
His voice cracked, sharp and loud, anger cutting through the heartbreak like broken glass.
“You think I wanted this? You think I asked to fall for someone who treats me like I’m disposable every time he gets scared of his own damn feelings?”
He stepped forward, still crying, staring into Wooyoung's eyes. It took everything out of San to not start screaming at Wooyoung and airing everything that was happening to the rest of the group.
“You think mocking me makes you strong? You think pushing me away makes you straight? You’re not fooling anyone, not me, not your friends, not even that poor girl you dragged here just to prove a point because you are a fucking coward."
San’s voice cracked his lips, trembling
“You brought her to this party like she was your fucking alibi, like you needed to show everyone, ‘Look, I’m normal! I’m not in love with the boy I used to sneak glances at when no one was watching! While also fucking the same guy that you claim is your best friend'."
Wooyoung's eyes flicker with shame as they slowly get smothered by shame
“Don’t act like you know me.”
Wooyoung’s voice cracked, just for a moment, but he covered it quickly, blinking hard as if that might erase the flicker of vulnerability.
“But don’t you dare act like you’re innocent. Like you didn’t love the way I touched you in secret. You kept running back to me even when you knew I’d never say the words you wanted to hear. If anything, that makes you just as much of a coward. So I guess we are even, huh, Sannie?"
Wooyoung pushed past San, walking down the hallway, making his way back to the dinner party. He looks back at San, who was wiping his tears, but there was no use because he couldn't stop the tears from slipping out of his eyes like a faucet.
“Pathetic.” Wooyoung mumbles as he makes his way back out to the party and mingles with everyone like he didn't just kill San emotionally in the hallway.
San emerged from the hallway a few minutes later, his eyes still red and exhausted. He went to get his coat and went up to Seongwha and Mingi, who were cleaning up.
"I'm going to head home, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a fantastic time, and the food was terrific. I will text you when I get home." San said softly, flashing a fake smile masking his genuine emotions.
"Oh no. I'm sorry, hyung, please get home safe. I'm glad you came tonight." Mingi dropped his bottles on the counter to give San a hug goodbye.
Seongwha was suspicious of San's behavior, but he didn't push it, giving him a tight hug like this was going to be the last time he was going to see him.
San accepted the hugs before making his way to the front of the house to give his goodbyes. As he makes it back into the front, he locks eyes with Wooyoung once again. His chest felt heavy once again.
Wooyoung looked back at San before looking at Minjoo, who was snuggled on the couch next to him, drinking a glass of wine. Wooyoung made Minjoo look at him before whispering something in her ear that made her giggle, before planning a sweet kiss on her lips, making sure San sees
Wooyoung pulls away before staring at San once again, but this time acknowledging him.
"Are you leaving? It was good seeing you, Sannie. We should catch up again, you have my number, don't be a stranger." Wooyoung said with a sweet like venom, putting on the most impressive acting job of the century cocking his head like a confused puppy.
San looked at Wooyoung, realizing what he was doing, and it disgusted him and made his heart ache again. How could he be so manipulative and convincing? San smiled his pristine fake smile, running his hand through his hair.
"Of course...I will text you goodnight, Wooyoung." San said his voice was soft and tired.
It has been 3 years since then...
San was currently sitting on the edge of the dingy motel bed with Wooyoung peacefully snoring beside him. San looked at the excess ecstasy pill dust, snorting it.
His nose sensitive to the powdery substance filling his nose as he starts to collect his items from the messy hotel room. He slips his clothes on, grabbing his wallet and keys, leaving Wooyoung alone in the motel, getting his car, pulling out his phone, blocking Wooyoung on everything.
As the sun slowly rises, San mumbles as he drives away from the hotel. He makes it back home to his house, grabs a box, and puts all the memories of Wooyoung he has in it. He has photos, clothes, gifts, and poems. He goes and shoves everything in the box before taking it outside, pouring lighter fluid on it, pulling out matches, and lighting the contents in the box on fire.
“I should’ve stopped loving you a long time ago.”
San mumbles underneath his breath before bending down to light his cigarette with the flames that were brewing out of the box, watching the memories of his best friend and first love turn into ash.