Work Text:
“Can I come in?”
Perth fully expects Saint to slam the door in his face because it’s what he would do. But Saint has always been a better person than him.
It’s past midnight and Saint’s clothes show it. He’s wearing soft worn sweatpants and a loose white shirt that hangs open, exposing his pale neck. Perth stubbornly keeps his eyes on his face because he lost the right to look at him like that a long time ago. They’re not acting now. He wishes they were, because Ae has more courage than him.
“Sure,” Saint says, smiling and turning away to walk into his apartment. He’s soft, the softest looking person Perth has ever seen, but his smile is strained and his shoulders are taut. And he knows it’s his fault.
He follows Saint into the kitchen where he sits down, on the bar stool by the counter. Saint mills around the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that Perth assumes is his dinner.
“P’Saint, what are you making?”
“Ramen,” Saint says distantly, still not looking him in the eye.
Perth sits there, crouched awkwardly on the too small stool as Saint pours his noodles into a bowl and sits on the other bar stool to eat.
He doesn’t know if he should speak, but Saint takes that choice out of his hand when he drops his chopsticks suddenly, and turns towards him.
“Why are you here, Perth?”
Perth isn’t sure himself. He just needed to see him, to know that he was okay. Sitting across from like this, he still isn’t sure.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” Saint says, and there’s an edge to his usually kind voice, “What is there even left to say?”
Perth’s mouth hangs open, drying at the sight of Saint’s anger. “I’m…sorry.”
“So?.”
The dismissal makes Perth flinch. Saint has never been this harsh with him before.
Saint takes a heavy breath, rubbing at his temples.
“Perth, I’m sorry. I just can’t right now, okay? I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He sounds so tired and defeated, so not Saint. His Saint is happy and witty, always ready with a joke or a hug. Not this sad, worn out person.
Saint picks up his bowl and goes to dump it into the garbage, even though it’s more than half full. When he’s done, he disappears into the living room.
“P’Saint?” Perth calls out but Saint doesn’t answer. He follows him into the other room and sees Saint sitting on the edge of his couch, back to him. It takes him a few moments to recognize the shaking of his shoulders and the high hitch of his breath.
He’s crying and trying to hide it from him. It’s the worst thing that Perth has ever seen, because the last time he saw him cry, he clung to him. Now, he won’t even look at him.
“P’Saint…” Perth says, sitting next to him and stroking his back. Saint flinches at his touch, and it’s a physical sting in Perth’s chest, where his heart should be.
“I’m sorry, for being like this,” he says, “You should go. I’m sure P’Gin and P’Big are wondering where you are.”
“They’re not,” Perth says, “We had a fight.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Saint turns around and laughs, even through his tears. “I’m the only one you could complain to about your managers? Go home, Perth.”
“The fight was about you.”
Saint stops laughing, his wet eyes widening. Perth wipes away the tears left on his white cheeks, and Saint doesn’t push him away.
“What?”
Perth sighs, grabbing Saint’s hands in his, the courage he needed finally within his grasp now that Saint isn’t looking at him like he’s dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
“I didn’t know,” Perth says, “I swear I didn’t know.”
Saint stares at him blankly.
“About the events, or about the…rumours.”
Saint smiles sadly. “You mean the rumours about my family whoring me out for money?” Perth flinches at the word. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I saw P’Big post about it, but I didn’t know it was about you until it got to the news. I swear.”
Saint’s avoiding his eyes again, looking at his chin instead of at him.
“And I never knew that they weren’t letting you go to events. He told me what he told the event coordinators, that you were busy.”
Saint’s smiling again but it’s the same smile he used to greet Perth at the door. Cold and distant, even though the edges of his mouth are upturned.
“Thank you, for coming here and saying that. But it doesn’t change anything.” Saint tries to get off the couch but Perth moves first, pushing him down under him before he can.
“What are you doing?” Saint asks. He looks bemused, like Perth is a child or a dog acting out, and it bothers him. He wants Saint to look at him like a man.
“When I found out I told them that I wouldn’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?” Saint asks.
“I won’t work with them anymore if they don’t fix things with you.”
“Perth, what are you talking about?” Saint says, confused. “You’re just a kid, and they basically own you.” He tries to push him off but Perth won’t budge, “Go back and make up with them.”
“No,” Perth shakes his head angrily, his body shaking with how emotional he feels. “How can you tell me to do that? After everything they did to you?”
The angry tremors stop when Saint touches his face, gently pulling on his chin until he’s looking at him.
“It’s because I care about you,” Saint says, “And I don’t want you to mess up your future for someone like me.”
He’s unbelievable.
“You’re exactly who I want to mess up my future for,” Perth says, “Because you’re someone that would say something like that even after I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” Saint says, and it sounds like a lie. “I mean, that wasn’t why I was hurt. We all signed contracts, I know what it’s like.”
Saint takes in a deep breath and Perth can see him start to blink back tears. It makes tears fill his own eyes, to see someone so strong look so fragile.
“I was hurt because you didn’t call or text after,” Saint sniffs, holding back his tears. Perth wishes he would just cry, because he’s here now and he’ll hold him when he does. “I thought maybe you believed it too.”
“No,” Perth says, “I would never.”
Saint finally gives him a real smile and it’s a tiny thing that makes Perth’s heart hurt. He’s never wanted to protect anything more than he wants to protect that smile.
“Let me protect you.”
“You can’t.” Saint looks amused again, and it infuriates him.
“What do I have to do so you’ll see me as a man?”
Saint stills, his face finally showing something other than sadness and resignation.
“...What are you saying?”
It’s too late to put the words back in his mouth. He can see the understanding in Saint’s eyes as he realizes what kind of position he’s in, pinned under Perth’s body. He looks nervous, but Perth got what he wanted. Saint’s not looking at him like he’s a kid anymore.
“Exactly what I said,” Perth said, “I want to protect you, as a man. Not just your friend. Or co-worker.” He doesn’t like the word, because Saint has always been more than that to him.
“You’re seventeen,” Saint emphasizes.
“So?” Perth says, echoing Saint’s words from earlier, “I still took care of you before, didn’t I? It might not have meant a lot to you but that was one of the best parts of my life.”
Perth doesn’t need to say what time he’s talking about. They spent months together, filming the series. That was weeks of Saint sleeping on Perth’s shoulder when they had to go to set at the crack of dawn, hours of eating lunch together, and whole days of kissing in rooms filled with people. But there are days that they don’t talk about. Days where they kissed alone for the sake of ‘practice’ even though they both knew it was bullshit. Perth still can’t forget the way Saint tasted and the way he clung to him in between kisses.
“That was work,” Saint says, weakly, “It doesn’t mean you need to be with me…like that.”
“You think I want to protect you because we worked together?” Perth asks incredulously. “I want to be with you like that, because you’re you. My P’Saint.”
For once, Saint looks like he’s at a loss for words.
“Even if you don’t want me like that, I’m still going to protect you. You can’t stop me.” He doesn’t care if Saint hates him for it, he can’t let this go on any longer. If he stands by and lets people hurt Saint, then he’s every bit the kid that Saint thinks he is.
“I never said I don’t want you like that,” Saint says quietly. It makes Perth’s breath stop. “But…”
He doesn’t let Saint finish his sentence, kissing him before he can. Saint whimpers in surprise but he doesn’t struggle or push him away. Instead, he opens up, lips parting for Perth.
He tastes just as sweet as he remembered, even with salty tears in his mouth.
After a few moments, Saint wraps his arms around his neck pulling him closer. His legs part along with his lips, so Perth can situate himself between them. This isn’t for TV so he’s quick about it, rucking up Saint’s shirt so he can stroke his soft stomach.
That’s what makes Saint keen, high and needy into his mouth, before he pushes him away.
“We have to stop,” Saint pants into his mouth, even though he can’t look away from Perth’s lips. He’s wanton with lips red and swollen from their kiss. It’s enough to make Perth harden in his jeans.
“Why?” Perth doesn’t see any reason why they should.
“Because we need to talk. Properly.” Saint says, “But not now. It’s almost two AM.”
Saint is right, but Perth pushes his luck and presses forward so Saint can feel how hard he is.
Saint pushes him off easily, now that he wants to. He’s always been stronger than Perth, but he let him pin him to the couch. It gets him hot to think that Saint was letting him take him because he wanted it too.
“Tomorrow."
Saint stands and Perth feels proud when he stumbles a bit because his legs are wobbly. He did that. Thankfully, Saint doesn’t notice or he’d hit him around the head.
“You should go home,” Saint says, tucking his hair behind his ear, “I’m sure your parents are worried.”
“They’re not. They think I’m staying with the P’Big and P’Gin because I have an event early in the morning.”
Saint looks worried. “You should still go.”
“No,” Perth says, “They can deal with it until they do what I asked.”
Saint looks like he wants to protest but Perth walks past him and to his bedroom.
“Hey!” Saint follows him, staring at him with wide eyes as he sits on his bed.
“I remember where it is.”
“I didn’t say you could sleep here, did I?"
“What’s the problem?” Perth says, “We’re just co-workers. And I have nowhere to sleep tonight. I’m only seventeen, remember?”
Saint laughs at his nerve, and it’s not cold or cruel. It’s warm, like it should be.
“I forgot about how much of a brat you can be."
Saint disappears into the bathroom and comes out after a few minutes with his hair tied up in a little ponytail at the top of his head.
Perth stares at him.
“What?” Saint says, “Is there something on my face?” He paws at his cheeks, looking at his hands to check.
“You’re so cute."
Saint rolls his eyes but his cheeks redden with a telling blush.
“I'm not cute, I just don’t get this skin by letting my hair touch my face at night.”
Perth doesn’t contradict him because he doesn’t want to get banished to the couch. He pulls off his shirt and settles into the bed.
Saint stares at him with trepidation.
“Are you coming to bed?” Perth asks, feigning confidence he doesn't have even when his heart is doing somersaults.
They’ve slept together before, in between takes and on late night shoots, but never like this. Not half naked and warm in Saint’s bed.
Saint doesn’t answer. He turns off the light so he’s just a silhouette, and then he climbs into bed with him.
Perth can barely see him but he can feel him and smell him. They’re nearly nose to nose and Saint smells sweet, like mint and jasmine, probably from his lotion. Perth wants to smell him more so he leans in closer until his nose is resting against Saint’s neck, and inhales.
Saint shivers and pushes him away gently.
“Tomorrow. Okay?”
Perth is vibrating with anticipation but Saint is pleading with him so he nods.
“Okay.”
Saint leans forward and inhales his own fill of Perth, nose pressed to his cheek, before he pulls back.
“Goodnight, Perth.”
“Goodnight, P’Saint.”
Perth has been taut like a string for weeks, the pressure of their separation eating away at him. But with Saint safe and warm next to him it only takes a moment, and then two, before he’s gone.