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Everybody knows that Wooyoung is like no one you’ve ever met. He is a social butterfly at its finest, he bites people to make friends and can charm any person of his choice in a couple of seconds by barking and then smiling at them, so it’s not his busted ego that says he is one of a kind, it’s a known fact.
But Wooyoung could never ever imagine that his uniqueness would stretch as far as having hanahaki while dating not one but two people simultaneously. He gets twice as much love as an average person, he is pretty sure his feelings are reciprocated, both San and Yeosang seem as in love with him today as they were yesterday, last month, a couple of years ago.
So why the fuck does Wooyoung cough up freaking bloody petals? A few weeks prior to the world tour they’ve been waiting for two years. In the bathroom of their dorm. Mere minutes before someone will burst in to check on him because they are to go out on one of the last days off they’ll have in a while. No, but really, what the fuck?
Wooyoung leans on the toilet bowl tiredly, not having in himself to feel even remotely disgusted. He’s sitting on the cold floor, feeling wet droplets of something on his face and probably shirt, and he’s just thrown up a pile of petals worth a small bouquet. Also, why would anyone even think about touching vomited petals? They aren’t pretty, they look more like half-digested food, and Wooyoung may not know the scientific specifics of having flowers growing in lungs but after traveling all the way from there through the throat, the mushy pieces of something white covered in suspicious fluids and sometimes blood is the last thing he’d call beautiful.
All those dramas lied and Wooyoung is very disappointed. And confused.
Once again, why does he have hanahaki if he is dating two people?
For a few minutes blessed with no new bouts of coughing, he contemplates whom to confide in, because, obviously, he’s losing his shit and has no idea what to do. After careful consideration and a quick clean-up of the bathroom, he decides to talk to Hongjoong. Among all the people Wooyoung knows, their leader-turned-captain is just on the right side of being non-judgemental, thinking critically more often than not, and knowing how to actually keep secrets if needed.
Wooyoung decides to catch Hongjoong when he is at the peak of his brain activity, so the next day he goes to their leader, uh, sorry, captain’s studio armed with fake confidence and two large caramel frappuccinos to soothe the scratching in his throat and bribe Hongjoong into listening to him.
He knocks softly and lets himself in, hoping that he won’t interrupt anything important. Hongjoong flicks his gaze at him, nods at a couch, and goes back to the lines and lines of something that will soon become a new bop. Wooyoung obediently takes his place on the couch and sits there, sipping from his cup. Just like he predicted, the fact that the loudest member of the group is quiet for more than a minute gets Hongjoong’s attention and after saving the progress at least three times on three different devices, he turns to Wooyoung, looking at him expectantly.
“So what brought you here?”
“I’m thinking,” Wooyoung mumbles, clinging to the warmth of the cup in his hands.
“Thank you for giving me heads up, I’ll book myself a ticket to Australia,” Hongjoong smirks.
“Hyung!” Wooyoung exclaims indignantly. “I brought you coffee, don’t insult me and my life choices.”
“Fine,” Hongjoong signs tiredly, makes one last backup of his draft, locks the laptop, and joins Wooyoung on the couch, making grabby hands at the second cup. “So, for real, why are you here? You don’t usually visit me in the studio.”
“I need your help,” Wooyoung says bluntly.
“I will not participate in any kind of prank and no, you cannot have my card. I’m still paying off the debt for the last present you got for San.”
“But he wanted those sneakers!”
“Yeah, limited edition, only one hundred pairs made, nothing like that was ever released, blah-blah-blah and yet I could make similar for free,” Hongjoong grumbles but without any heat.
“You aren’t a famous designer yet, so-” Wooyoung can’t help but tease their captain.
“Well, thank you for the coffee, it was nice chatting with you,” Hongjoong huffs, about to stand up, but Wooyoung grabs his hand nervously, suddenly embarrassed.
“Hyung!”
“What?” Hongjoong looks at him tiredly but his eyes become softer when he catches the way Wooyoung worries at his lower lip.
“Listen, I need your help. I messed up somehow, but I don’t know how and why this time.”
Something in his voice must’ve made Hongjoong believe him, because he sits back, now even closer to Wooyoung, and looks at him attentively, determination already simmering behind his eyes, “What happened?”
“I have hanahaki.” Wooyoung pauses, letting the words sink in.
“Well…” Hongjoong blinks a couple of times. “Did San or Yeosang?..”
“That’s the point!” Wooyoung exclaims, trying to find words to describe the messed-up knot of emotions he’s been feeling for the last couple of weeks. “I’m sure they love me! They said so, both of them, multiple times! And I felt that it wasn’t like ‘let’s humor him’. It was genuine!”
“Okay,” Hongjoong looks at him calmly, “then why would you…”
“I don’t know!” Wooyoung almost yells because he is so angry, and the hardest thing is that he doesn’t even have anything to direct his rage at. Should he be angry at himself for catching the disease? At San or Yeosang for not loving him enough? At the universe for fucking up his life?
“Have you met anyone?” Hongjoong asks just to be sure, running through everything he remembers about hanahaki.
“No?” Wooyoung actually pauses to think about it but then quickly dismisses the thought. “No. And even if I would’ve, it’s not like I can fall in love that fast.”
“Well,” Hongjoong chuckles dryly, “from what I remember, you were ready to propose to Felix ten minutes after meeting him.”
“But who wouldn’t?” Wooyoung asks rhetorically and hesitantly scoots closer to Hongjoong, seeking comfort.
“Valid point,” Hongjoong silently gathers Wooyoung in his arms, offering whatever support he can, and tries to come up with logical options. “If you really haven’t met anyone, you have to discuss it with your boyfriends. Has anything changed between the three of you? Maybe they stopped or started doing something and it made you doubt them subconsciously.”
“I thought about it but… But if I tell them that I have hanahaki, they’ll be worried, no?”
“They’ll be even more worried if you die suddenly,” Hongjoong deadpans.
“Hyung! That’s brutal.” Wooyoung swats Hongjoong’s shoulder. He hasn’t thought much about death, because, come on, it’s 2022, they invented vaccines for covid in just a few months. Of course, they can cure hanahaki. Unless it’s a final stage, but, well, it’s on you if you waited so long.
Wooyoung instinctively shudders, wondering what it’d be like if he had to go through the surgery and have chunks of his lungs removed because of the roots. Or worse, how he’d feel after taking drugs that would numb specific parts of his brain so that he couldn’t feel love or even strong affection towards anyone. Honestly, barbaric.
Nowadays, you could take medicine and cure hanahaki in a span of several months or go through a quick (but gross, like everything related to throwing up damn flowers) procedure to purge flowers and most of the roots from the system in one go. Although, depending on how fast you fall out of love or have your feelings reciprocated, symptoms could return and you would have to go through another round of treatment. It’s expensive, tiresome, bad for vocal cords, and not that great for artists, especially like Wooyoung, who pours all of himself into every performance he has. But it’s not a death sentence.
Sure, there are people who, unfortunately, don’t undergo any treatment, either because they can’t afford it or because their religion states that hanahaki is their “god’s trial” and if you fail it (i.e., die) that’s on you. Luckily, Wooyoung is totally fine with any kind of medication that won’t affect his position in the group, so he can take his sweet time and panic as much as he wants.
“Anyone could still die from hanahaki so it’s not something you should treat lightly,” Hongjoong grumbles like the old man he is. “And you absolutely cannot deal with it on your own, especially if most probably it has something to do with San and Yeosang.”
“Okay okay. So I just talk to them. Yeah?” Wooyoung still foolishly hopes there is a magical solution to his problem that doesn’t involve talking. Because… Well, they got together without talking. The emotional kind of talking. Maybe it’s unhealthy or whatever, but with San and Yeosang, Wooyoung doesn’t need to voice what he wants or needs. They just get it. That’s why it’s so difficult for him to just find them wherever they are and lay himself bare. Figuratively speaking. He has no issues with lying naked in front of his boyfriends.
Man, several years passed and he still feels a thrill of absolute happiness and wonder when calling them his boyfriends.
Wooyoung jokes all the time that San is his soulmate but he is. He understands parts of Wooyoung that the man itself doesn’t. Sometimes Wooyoung is just about to say something but San is already there, an answer ready on his lips. And Yeosang… They talk more frequently, and share some of their feelings and insecurities but more out of habit than necessity.
When you are a trainee you must talk to someone, or you go slightly crazy with all the pressure, especially when you are a trainee in a company that flipped the entire industry’s table. After they had found themselves in KQ, sharing what was on their minds with each other was one of the things that kept them grounded and feeling safe in a new environment. Years passed and they had to talk about their emotions less and less – Wooyoung always preferred touches and gestures for his love language and Yeosang’s way with words didn’t change much, so Wooyoung still cannot always say for sure if his boyfriend jokes or is dead serious.
Even their relationships didn’t need much discussion. The three of them sort of just silently understood and accepted that Wooyoung dated them both separately and no one would hold grudges. Hell, Wooyoung had to talk about it more with other members than with San and Yeosang, because everyone was worried about hurt feelings, miscommunications, and “Please, keep yourself in check in public with at least one of them.”
And it worked. Everything was fine.
Until, apparently, it wasn’t.
“I assure you, talking to people instead of biting them does wonders,” Hongjoong nudges him softly. “Now, go back to the dorm, think hard about how to approach your boyfriends, and deal with it like a mature young man. And don’t dwell on it for too long, you’ll get wrinkles.”
“You sound like a dad,” Wooyoung jokes lamely, a bit embarrassed about a warm and fuzzy feeling of endless gratitude towards their captain.
“And right now I’m proud of that. Now off you go, I still have work to do.”
Wooyoung huffs and playfully tries to plant a messy kiss on Hongjoong’s cheek, earning a loud screech and hit towards his shoulder. A quick fight later, with mussed hair and rosy cheeks, he exits the studio with a somewhat lighter heart and a half-baked plan on how to deal with his problem.
Unfortunately for Wooyoung, when he comes back to the dorm, San and Yeosang are nowhere to be found. And only quick scrolling through the constant spam in their group chat tells Wooyoung that his boyfriends went to the impromptu workout session. As if they needed to be more buff. Still, he’d lie if he said that he doesn’t appreciate their gym selcas and improved stamina.
Wooyoung clicks his tongue and tries to distract himself with cooking. Lately, San was whining about missing his seaweed soup anyway. So Wooyoung busies himself with rummaging through the fridge and cupboards, gathering all the ingredients and utensils. The bad thing is that by this point he’s mastered the recipe to the level that his hands can handle everything while his mind is occupied with something else. For example, scrutinizing every interaction he has recently had with San and Yeosang. Maybe unintentionally trying to trigger a new hanahaki attack. As long as Seonghwa doesn’t catch him making a mess in the kitchen, he should be fine.
God, he cannot be left bothered by something and unsupervised, can he? What Hongjoong was thinking when he sent him off to the empty dorm? Doesn’t he know their schedules?
No one does, it’s their day off, but still. Totally irresponsible.
While his hands keep washing, cutting, and stirring, Wooyoung’s mind meticulously goes through every interaction, not skipping even the smallest thing he said or thought he had. And that’s a lot of memories to visit, because Wooyoung loves his boyfriends very much, constantly thinking about how he likes cuddling with San and listening to Yeosang’s amusing stories. Especially late at night when the living room is empty except for them and Wooyoung can share kisses between them even more shamelessly.
Sometimes he wishes that San and Yeosang kissed each other too, that would be so…
Wooyoung can’t even finish the thought, that’s how fast he is caught in the coughing fit. He slaps a hand over his mouth, quickly turns off the stove, and rushes to the bathroom, already feeling the familiar tickle of bloody petals making their way upwards.
Half an hour later, diligently scrubbing the blood stains off the tiled floor, Wooyoung thinks hard.
Apparently, his symptoms are caused by thinking about San and Yeosang together. That’s interesting, to say the least.
The thing is that the three of them don’t date each other. It’s Wooyoung and San and Wooyoung and Yeosang. Two lines connected with a dot. So close but so far away from a triangle, an ideal and steady figure that will withstand anything.
Oh fuck. What if… What if Wooyoung needs not only San and Yeosang to love him separately but also them united? They have never been together in that sense. As soon as Wooyoung goes slightly beyond kissing and further down the waistline with one, the other quickly leaves the room. That’s so understandable because they date Wooyoung and not each other, but also so stupid.
How fucked up it is to catch hanahaki because you want your boyfriends to fuck? Wait, does he want that? Maybe platonic love is enough. But then, all eight of them are as deep in platonic love as a bunch of straight, bi, and hesitating boys can be, so should it be romantic? But not strictly sexual? Or sex is required? Does Wooyoung need San fuck Yeosang? Or vice versa?
Well, he wouldn’t mind but is it what he really wants? Is it what the bloody disease wants?
After making sure that the bathroom is as spotless as it can be and can put even Seonghwa to shame, Wooyoung slowly makes his way back to the kitchen and picks up his half-done soup.
The more he thinks about the conclusion he came to, the weirder but still strangely foolproof it seems. And he’s talking about the illness that makes flowers grow in your lungs out of nowhere and is magically cured with “I love yous”. Anything is possible.
Strangely, even after the realization hits, Wooyoung decides not to tell his boyfriends about it for now and see if anything changes while they are on tour. His hanahaki is still in the early stage and judging by the ideas they kept exchanging during the rehearsals, there won’t be a shortage of onstage flirting between most of the members. He should be fine.
(And maybe, just maybe, he’s worried and a bit scared about the shift in his relationships when he tells Yeosang and San about hanahaki. And maybe he thinks that it’s better to wait till they’re back home because let’s be honest, Wooyoung is a shitty actor and their fans are observant, they’ll pick up in no time if their interactions suddenly become strained)
Nothing really changes while they’re on tour. Wooyoung still coughs up petals from time to time, and San and Yeosang still love him. At some point though, Wooyoung starts second-guessing his own thoughts. Maybe he did meet someone? He spends so much time texting Changbin lately…
After wasting the whole evening in a new city mulling over his problem, Wooyoung decides that he needs someone’s input just to make sure that there is at least some sense in his observations. He bites people to make friends, after all, his logic cannot be flawless.
This time Wooyoung decides not to bother Hongjoong. Partially because their captain is dead to the world after the flight and the previous concert, partially because he wants to get a different perspective. Partially because Hongjoong will most definitely throw a fit if he finds out that Wooyoung still hasn’t talked to his boyfriends.
Unsurprisingly, he goes to Seonghwa. Jongho is never comfortable discussing anyone’s love life. As for YunGi, those are so deep into each other that one can hardly separate them at this point. Good for them.
Wooyoung catches Seonghwa in the hotel lobby. “Hyong,” Wooyoung asks sheepishly, not knowing how to breach the topic and not send Seonghwa into a panic mode.
“Yes,” their oldest member hums, scrolling through their schedule intently, most likely memorizing everything to correct Hongjoong if he misses something tomorrow, well, technically today. “What is it?”
“There is, how to say, a problem.”
“A problem?” Seonghwa repeats, looking from his phone at Wooyoung with a concerned frown.
“Yeah. I might… I am… Oh, fuck,” Wooyoung huffs, frustrated. It was much easier to tell Hongjoong about his illness, why is it so hard to talk to Seonghwa about it now?
(He knows why, but all of them prefer not to think about it)
“Language, Wooyoung-ah,” Seonghwa chides him lightly. And then adds right away, “Wanna cuddle? We can order room service too.”
“Cuddle,” Wooyoung mumbles.
“Okay, let’s get into my room, I have a distinct feeling no one would knock at my door anyway,” Seonghwa takes Wooyoung’s hand and leads the way.
Once they are settled on the bed, Wooyoung lying with his back to Seonghwa’s chest and the room illuminated only by the soft light from a small desk lamp, Wooyoung is left with no excuses to stall the conversation.
“I have hanahaki,” he says. The words ring unexpectedly loud in the quiet of the room.
Seonghwa doesn’t say anything.
God bless him.
“At first I thought maybe something happened between me and Yeosang. Or me and San. But everything was so perfect, everything is so perfect, and this tour is a blessing and I love them so much sometimes I can’t even keep my hands to myself–”
“Yeah, we noticed,” Seonghwa interrupts him dryly.
“Yeah, um, so, I couldn’t stop thinking about the reason and then I tried to make symptoms appear…”
Seonghwa doesn’t mention how dumb his idea was. Wooyoung silently vows not to make fun of his hyung as much in the future.
“And then I realized that I cough petals when I think about San and Yeosang. Together. As if I’m in love with their love? Is it possible?”
“Anything is possible,” Seonghwa replies thoughtfully, petting Wooyoung’s head. His hands are a warm and solid weight on Wooyoung’s stomach and it’s grounding. “You’ve always felt much stronger than any of us, no wonder that you managed to catch hanahaki although you are already in love with two people and they love you in return. Your heart is big, and you are ready to give all of yourself. But maybe you didn’t realize how strongly you want to receive just as much in return.”
“Mhm,” Wooyoung mumbles, turning away from Seonghwa’s intent gaze shyly.
“Is it even that surprising? Many believe that hanahaki is not all about love. Some say it’s about being selfish. Demanding something so hard it literally kills you not to have it. Others insist on hanahaki being born from insecurities, that’s why it demands reassurance that you are loved. You are needed. And some think that it’s sort of a compass. It indicates that you need something, whether you realize it or not, and the less you get that, the stronger it becomes, nudging you to what it assumes is necessary for you. Deep inside you may think San and Yeosang should be together. Why? Maybe because you don’t want them to feel neglected when you aren’t around. Maybe because your bond with them doesn’t feel complete as long as they aren’t together. That’s not something I can say for you, that’s on you.”
“You know a hell of a lot about hanahaki,” Wooyoung says after some time. There is not much else to say. It’s not like he can help his hyung.
“Yes, I do,” Seonghwa whispers so softly that Wooyoung barely hears him and then clears his throat and continues louder, “I assume you got scared or worried about your realization. And wanted to hear that it’s not stupid or too unreal. That I can confirm. So what will you do next?”
“I’ll… talk to them?” The defeat in Wooyoung’s voice is palpable.
“Good.”
“And tell them everything, not just part of the truth.”
“Very good.”
“And then we will work through it together, as a team.”
“Smart boy.”
Wooyoung preens himself over the constant praise, but there is a stubborn seed of doubt still lodged deeply in his chest, “Hyung, but what if they don’t understand? Or won’t want to…”
“They’ll do anything for you,” Seonghwa quickly assures Wooyoung, kissing the top of his head affectionately, “Trying to date each other is far from the worst thing they’d do for you. Worst case scenario the thing between them won’t work out and you’ll have to take medicine. But they will not love you less.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to them,” Wooyoung’s sigh is resigned and too dramatic for a simple conversation with two boyfriends.
There is just one more thing that worries him (and, possibly, that’s another reason why we wanted to talk to Seonghwa specifically), so he cranes his neck to catch Seonghwa’s questioning gaze, “Oh, by the way, hyung, I just thought that… I had to catch hanahaki from someone, right? And it should’ve been someone close to me because you need to spend at least a few weeks near the affected person. So I wonder who it could be?”
Seonghwa smiles his usual pained smile and doesn’t say anything.
Wooyoung would certainly appreciate having some time to get himself ready for the upcoming conversation. But fate has other plans for him and that’s why Wooyoung throws up a fucking flower right in front of his alarmed boyfriends.
“Youngie!” San screams, falling onto his knees next to him while Yeosang stands frozen in place, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I-it’s o-okay,” Wooyoung rasps, gulping for air.
In hindsight, thinking how perfect his two boyfriends look together curled on a bed, was a recipe for a hanahaki disaster.
Wooyoung coughs up a couple of more stray petals before he feels like he can breathe freely again. San runs his hand through Wooyoung’s hair soothingly, untangling strands wet from sweat. Yeosang hands him over a glass of water that Wooyoung gulps in just a couple of swallows, already feeling much better.
The silence in the room is tense and no one knows how to break it. And, honestly, Wooyoung doesn’t want to. He’s pretty content with half-lying in San’s arms while Yeosang is hovering over him. Why should he change anything?
“Who is it?” Yeosang cracks first. His face is carefully blank, but his voice is strained with the emotion Wooyoung doesn’t like in the slightest.
It sounds too dejected. As if he already assessed all the facts literally lying in front of him and came to a decision.
“Maybe we should call an ambulance?” San looks at Wooyoung worryingly, preferring to concentrate on his boyfriend. Completely ignoring the flower and petals covered in blood. Solid evidence that Wooyoung is in love with someone else. Someone who is not San. Or Yeosang. That’s an obvious conclusion. One anyone would come to.
“N-no, no need to call the ambulance,” Wooyoung brushes San off. His throat is sore and scratchy, he has no idea what to do during rehearsals but that’s something to think about much later. “I’m fine,” he lifts his eyes up at Yeosang, who looks like he fights with inner demons and wins, for now, judging by the fact that he doesn’t bolt from the room with lightning speed to nurse his broken heart in some dark corner.
There is a chance that they will sort everything out.
“Woo,” San sounds hesitant. Almost scared. “Who’s that? You, you know you can tell us. I… We won’t…”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Wooyoung suddenly snaps, angrily showing San away. San lets him go and Wooyoung tries not to dwell on how cold it is to sit on the hotel room floor without someone to hug him. “It’s not like that. It’s weird, okay?”
“Try us,” Yeosang smiles dryly.
Wooyoung looks around and waves at the mess on the floor, “Maybe not right now? I feel disgusting and there is a pile of… that.”
Yeosang nods curtly and disappears behind the bathroom door. Although they know their hotel rooms will be cleaned, living with Seonghwa had a certain impact on them. Also, when you are a member of a k-pop idol group someone would pay huge money to literally get into your dirty laundry and trash cans, so they are always prepared to clean after themselves.
They just haven’t thought it would come in handy for a hanahaki fit.
Wooyoung takes a quick shower while San and Yeosang clean the floor and air the room. He uses this time to assure himself that the worst has already passed – they know everything – so now he just needs to make them stay with him.
Once he has changed into a fresh tee and a pair of sweats, he comes out of the bathroom. San and Yeosang are already sitting on the bed, clearly waiting for him. And also they sit close to each other which soothes something inside Wooyoung’s chest.
He climbs on the bed, leaning on a small pile of decorative pillows and taking one of them to hug close to his chest. Squirming under two pairs he sighs deeply and decides that he can't really keep stalling, “So it’s not someone. It’s you. Together. I want to. No, I need you to be together.”
“We are?” San frowns, shifting slightly.
“No, like, together together. Like kissing and… other staff.”
“Other staff? You are too shy to say the word sex now?” Yeosang snickers, but Wooyoung ignores the bite, too happy to see some warmth return to his gaze.
“I’m not sure it’s necessary. For you to have sex I mean. It would be hot, not gonna lie, but I just need you to love each other. More than now.”
“So, you want me and San to date so hard you caught hanahaki?” There is a smile tugging a corner of Yeosang’s lips and that’s the only thing keeping Wooyoung from biting his head off for making fun of him in such a vulnerable moment.
“Yeah,” Wooyoung mumbles, picking at a stray thread at the hem of his t-shirt.
“That’s overkill even for you. Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, talk to us?”
God, Yeosang can be so stupid sometimes.
“I didn’t know it at first!” Wooyoung starts and it’s like a dam inside him has finally broken. “Everything was perfect, I was happy and then one day I started coughing up petals. Do you know how scared I was? But then I was like ‘No, it couldn’t be them, they love me’. And then ‘But who else?’. And one moment I stand in the middle of our kitchen, going through every memory of us, and accidentally think ‘Wow, my boyfriends are so hot, but I bet they’d be way hotter when kissing’ and the next I’m throwing up petals. Again! And what would you know? I’m sitting alone on the cold floor wondering how I could tell my boyfriends that I want them to be together. Like. How does it even work? Huh?” His rant left both guys speechless, and suddenly Wooyoung feels embarrassed even though it’s good to finally let go and speak about his hanahaki freely.
“Wow. Your lungs are so big,” San mumbles out of nowhere. Wooyoung owlishly blinks a few times, shifting his gaze from oblivious San to stone-faced Yeosang and to the pillow, still clutched to his chest.
The next second said pillow is flying at San, smacking him right in the forehead.
“Yay! Not fair, it was a compliment,” San pouts, grabbing the pillow and hugging it to his chest instead.
“Now is not the time, Sannie. I’m in the middle of a crisis here.”
“So you say that the thought of me kissing San is so attractive that it makes you cough up petals?” Yeosang asks seemingly innocently.
“Yeah,” Wooyoung carefully tries not to imagine this scenario, he’s still planning to sleep in this bed.
“Hm. So if I say “Imagine me mouthing Sannie’s neck” you’ll…” Yeosang goes on, unbothered by San making a choking sound.
“Go into a cardiac arrest and die,” Wooyoung mutters, trying damn hard not to kill one of his boyfriends.
“We can’t let that happen, Sannie. Right?” Yeosang turns to San, all innocence and purity. San looks at him with wide eyes, trying to catch up and once the realization hits him, he smiles. But not in his usual “full dimples mode” style. His lips are stretched wide in a predatory grin that makes something scorchingly hot coil in Wooyoung’s stomach.
“Certainly not,” San purrs, not yet a demon, but on his way there.
“You are so calm about it,” Wooyoung blurts out, wetting his parched lips.
“I want to have a threesome,” Yeosang shrugs nonchalantly. Wooyoung feels his heart beating erratically and the images in his head are too wild to handle, but strangely there isn’t even a tickle in his throat.
“And I want to eat chicken freely as Yeosang’s boyfriend,” San jokes, shifting closer to Wooyoung.
“All you needed was just ask. But I find it so flattering that only our love could keep you alive,” there is a dreamy look in Yeosang’s eyes. Wooyoung likes it and promises himself to try and put it there more often. But later.
“You know I could just get medical treatment or have a quick surgery? No one dies from hanahaki anymore,” he drawls, smiling cheekily.
“You are anti-romantic,” San pouts even harder.
“Yeah, so boring,” Yeosang joins in, shifting his gaze to San. “Let’s go Sannie, seems like we aren’t needed here.”
“Totally agree,” somehow, San gets too close to Yeosang, and Wooyoung refuses to think what exactly this image does to his mental state. It’s a wonder he’s still conscious and aware of his surroundings.
“And we have better things to do,” Yeosang adds amusedly, moving closer to San until there are less than a few centimeters between them.
“Like cuddling?” San asks innocently, and Wooyoung can’t tell if he seriously doesn’t see the hungry glint in Yeosang’s eyes or if he plays innocent. Anyways, Wooyoung is really affected.
“And cuddling too,” Yeosang nods and then quickly darts forward, leaving a chaste kiss on San’s lips. Wooyoung swears his heart skipped a bit. “Come on, it’s no fun here,” he grabs San’s hand and tugs him from the bed and out of the room.
Wooyoung blinks, too overwhelmed by his two boyfriends quickly ganging up on him, and shrieks, alas too late, “Wait what? Don’t leave me alone! I love you! Get back here bastards!”
A couple of doors further down the hall Seonghwa hears the scuffle and smiles softly, popping a small white pill with a flower shape imprint on it in his mouth.