𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

The rush of adrenaline waves through Wooyoung’s veins like a raging river, bound to nothing, pouring into his bloodstream like a frenzied virus. The crowd was beyond loud, cheering chants and screaming into the void, watching as the stage lights began to power down, overheads turning brighter by the second. The screens of the stage flicker into darkness, signaling an end to the final leg of the tour, one that had stretched over the course of the last six months.

Wooyoung was out of breath, sweat beading down the sides of his face, just barely messing with the copious amount of stage makeup that had been blended into his skin, perfectly complementary to the casual outfit he had selected in the last stretch of the concert.

“C’mon, let’s go eat,” Hongjoong comments, waving the group towards backstage, a beaming smile on his face. Wooyoung smiles at him, suddenly feeling a wrap of arms around his waist that causes his breath to hitch, but he recognizes the sudden affection almost immediately, a smile curling on his lips irresistibly.

“Yeosang–” Wooyoung laughs. “You do this after every show. You act like I’m going to disappear, or something.”

“We’ve been friends for a decade, Youngie–” Yeosang hums, hugging him tighter. “I may not be affectionate to you all the time, but after shows like this I get even more thankful that you followed me here from the training company.”

“Aw,” Wooyoung coos. “You’re such a softie. You would’ve missed me too much, hm?”

“Obviously. Don’t let it get to your head though.” Yeosang frowns, earning quiet laughter from Wooyoung as the back hug retracts.

“Too late. Let’s go eat.”

Wooyoung leads Yeosang into the well-lit hall, right behind Yunho and Seonghwa, who had been chatting quietly about something they had witnessed within the sea of fans. Yeosang hums quietly behind Wooyoung, somehow complacent in his own little innocent world, seemingly oblivious to the almost-audible chants and cries from their fans that had continued even minutes after their show had ended.

Wooyoung carefully removes his in-ear headphones, letting them rest against the back of his neck, dangling over his collarbones against the black tee he had been wearing that matched everyone else’s.

Shows like this had always had Wooyoung feeling ravenous, and not in a way he can healthily describe. He always wanted to down a large bucket of something, paired with some type of alcohol; as long as it settled his stomach and sent him off to sleep, he’d worry about working out and running off the calories later.

“Good show tonight,” Hongjoong compliments as everyone pours into the dressing room. “Atiny really loved it, and I’m really proud of all of you for your hard work these last six months. Eat to your heart’s content, it’s all paid for already. We’ll head back home in an hour.”

Everyone bows their heads in thanks, smiling proudly at their captain, Seonghwa being the first to go and force the male into a hug, one that he normally would fight off, but seemed to rather linger into tonight.

“Wanna grab something and sit with me?” San asks as he hovers closer, a cheesy smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, weirdo. Get me a plate. I’ve gotta take some of this off, my back is killing me.” Wooyoung whines just barely, earning a soft hum of agreement from San.

“Okay. Find us a seat, I’ll be right there.”

Wooyoung is careful to remove his microphone pack, feeling as one of their staff members closes in, helping weave the chords out of his shirt and safely away from his body, disconnecting him of all sets of wires, and Wooyoung basically sighs in relief. His feet carefully drag him over to one of the small sofas in the room, hands busy with taking his earrings out, slouching down in his seat as he pulls every single piece of jewelry off of his body.

He loved being an idol, truthfully, but after a tour this long, he was exhausted. The weight of carrying such a high expectation rode over his shoulders in a way he couldn’t describe, but he knew that his members felt it too. With such a high success rate of their latest album, that only placed more pressure on their performances for this tour, and each one had been sold-out for weeks on end. The stress was palpable, even if none of them had bothered to show how truly stressed they were, they all knew that they shared the burden equally.

Wooyoung, in specific, feared never performing enough. He had always given his heart and soul on stage, waving to the fans and flirting with the cameras, trying to play into his playful, cheerful persona that he used for his idol presence. It wasn’t that he didn’t behave like that at all outside of the stage, it wasn’t a facade by any means, but he was more reserved than he led on to be. It took weeks for his members to break through the foundation of walls he had built once he had joined KQ’s entertainment company, only sticking close to Yeosang in times of crisis since he had known the male since his training days.

San, a beacon of warmth, weaved his way into his heart easily. A quick friendship had formed, one that he would never take for granted. He felt at peace being with San, never having to hide any version of himself, forging a mutual respect in their bond that radiated with understanding and complete trust. San was endearing and completely empathetic; the male truly had a heart of gold. Wooyoung would do anything for him, and the same was true vice versa. Hell, Wooyoung would be shocked if San didn’t think the same since they had matching tattoos at this point, but even something like that had deepened their friendship, placing their bond on the spectrum of soulmates.

Without San, Wooyoung truly doesn’t believe that he’d be as close with the other members as he is now. Seonghwa is basically like his mother, Hongjoong being his father, Yunho the big brother he never had, and Jongho the menace-like little brother he already had, but now had double of. Yeosang was his best friend through and through, and Mingi had become a rock of stability in their friendship, someone he could always lean on or go to if he needed a laugh. The group collectively was as close as close could get, and Wooyoung wouldn’t change a thing.

“Here,” San says, handing a plate off to Wooyoung before settling down on the sofa next to him. “Tired?”

“Extremely.”

“I’m gonna sleep extremely well tonight,” San mumbles, shoveling a piece of food into his mouth. “And–”

“No, San’ah,” Wooyoung places his hand over San’s mouth, covering his chewing to prevent the words from slipping free. “Chew first. Talk second. I hate when you do that.”

San laughs, grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist to pull his hand down after he finishes chewing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just fix it.”

“You love me either way,” San muses, a smile apparent in his tone as he leans closer subtly, leaving Wooyoung to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat, dumbass. I wanna get home and change and shower–”

“No! We always drink after a show. You’ve gotta drink with us.” San frowns. “Please?”

“San’ah,” Wooyoung sighs. “I’m really tired. It’s been a long schedule for us and I really would like to make up for lost time with my bed.”

“Don’t make me drag Yeosang over here.” San threatens.

“Please don’t.”

“You know he can force you into anything.”

“I know he can, which is why I’m literally begging you. Do. Not. Call him over.”

San smirks playfully, rising from his seat before Wooyoung can protest, searching through the small crowd of staff members and his friends, obviously searching for their hyung. Wooyoung takes a breath in, mentally preparing himself for the barrage of self-pity and cries from his best friend, knowing fully well that he was going to get dragged into something he didn’t want to do, but was likely going to do anyway.

“Youngie,” Yeosang’s voice is edged with sadness, a pout evident. “Please have fun with us when we get back to the dorms.”

“Yeo,” Wooyoung pouts back, trying to play at his own game. “I wanna go to bed.”

“And I want to party with my best friend of ten years. Please? This was a huge tour and we deserve to have a drink on the balcony.”

“Yeosang–” Wooyoung warns, tilting his head, raising a brow. He really, really didn’t want to stay up late drinking.

“Youngie–” Yeosang pouts, one more time, a sweet tune etched into his voice, one that Wooyoung has never been able to resist in a mere ten years of friendship.

“Fine!” Wooyoung sighs. “One. Drink.”

“Thank you Yeosang,” San hums. “Knew I could count on you.”

“Anything to get buzzkill to join us.” Yeosang winks at Wooyoung before walking away, finding his place back in the quiet chaos of the staff. San settles back down with his plate, taking another bite of his luke-warm pizza.

“Am I really a buzzkill?” Wooyoung frowns.

“No, he didn’t mean it like that.” San smiles, reaching over to place his finger on the corner of Wooyoung’s lips, pushing upwards gently. “You’re too pretty to be frowning. Try smiling.”

“Stop it.” Wooyoung pushes his hand away, taking a bite of his pizza, too.

“Why’re you so worried about something Yeo had said, anyway? It’s never bothered you before.”

“I don’t know. My anxiety has been a bit worse since the tour started, so I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“You’re never going to disappoint anyone here, Woo. We all love you dearly.”

“Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you can’t be disappointed in them.” Wooyoung warns with a dull expression, turning his focus back to his food that he no longer had the stomach to ingest. “Besides, it’s been a long couple of months. We all spend an absurd amount of time together, I kind of thought that everyone would be sick of my face by now.”

“No way.” San tries to reassure. “You are like the glue to our group, sometimes. Without you, we wouldn’t have our eighth member, and we wouldn’t be ATEEZ. You followed Yeosang here for a reason, and even if it took us all a while to adjust to getting to know you, I don’t think a single one of them would change anything that happened all those years ago.”

“I’m surprised everyone likes me as much as they do.” Wooyoung shrugs. “I can be a bit much.”

“You’re not ‘a bit much’. You’re you, and you’re perfect. There’s no one else we’d rather have on the team.”

“You’re really good at boosting my ego, Sannie.” Wooyoung smiles in a tease, turning to just barely glance at the male. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“Anything for you.” San smiles back sweetly, pointing to Wooyoung’s pizza. “You should really eat. Your body needs the energy after all of that dancing and singing.”

“I’m not hungry, San’ah–”

“Be quiet. Yes you are. Take a bite.”

Wooyoung shares a knowing look with San, and San only raises his brow. With a bated breath, Wooyoung takes another bite begrudgingly, relishing in the fact that he was hungry, and he was just being overbearingly difficult because of his own insecurities.

Once Wooyoung had finished his subsequent dinner, San takes his plate and throws away their garbage, handing a bottle of water off to the male when he returns. Wooyoung takes a drink of it after it’s offered, handing it right back, watching as San takes his own long, refreshing drink. They had always shared water bottles, it was nothing new, but something about their formed routine brought a familiar fondness to attach itself to Wooyoung’s heart, and he can’t help but wonder why San had always clung to him after all of these years.

He supposes it has to do with how reliant they had been on one another, considering that their rooms were right next door to one another, and frequently sought out one another’s company rather than anyone else’s. Yeosang added to their duo, making them a formidable trio, and other times Seonghwa decided to barge in, creating chaotic trios in both manners that the others purely despised at times. But, being split into two separate dorms, Wooyoung only ever really saw San, Yeosang and Mingi most of the time. The other four were in the other dorm, apparently a lot calmer than the dorm Wooyoung had resided in. His dorm wasn’t noisy, per se, rather messy and other times cluttered beyond belief. Seonghwa, whenever he’d come by, would always end up cleaning for an hour straight, simply because he could not believe that his dear friends could bear to live in such filth. Wooyoung thought he was being dramatic, but he never bothered to question Seonghwa, especially since the male had a knack for cleaning their entire apartment within the hour.

Otherwise, San and Wooyoung typically were alone and left to do whatever came to mind. Their schedules, normally jam-packed with extensive training and practices, would soon run with ample freetime, allowing the duo to relax in the safety of their shared dorm in peace. With a looming comeback in the near future, their schedules would return to their usual crazed-chaos, but in nearly three weeks from now.

So, now with the promise of being able to relax his mind and enjoy some much needed time-off, Wooyoung finds himself utterly excited, even if his expression couldn’t properly express how truly happy he was to be able to get some much needed rest.

Except, he isn’t able to rest. One drink had turned into two, and Wooyoung is internally fearing that at this point, he’ll never be able to escape Yeosang’s antics. They were all settled in his dorm, sitting out on the balcony on the far end of the building, enjoying the calm, steadfast breeze that hovered past, the barely audible of rolling traffic somehow lost between the muffles of laughs and empty soju bottles. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were laughing at something Yunho had said at the table that was outside, leaving Mingi and Jongho to sit across from them, comparing the flavors of their different soju brands. Wooyoung was nearby, watching all of them quietly, sipping away at his soju tiredly. San, ever present and observant, stayed close, drinking his own bottle, but Wooyoung isn’t sure how much the male has exactly had. Yeosang had disappeared at some point, claiming that he was getting a snack or going to the bathroom, but Wooyoung doesn’t remember.

“I’m telling you, Atiny would love it.” Yunho laughs, looking at Hongjoong. “Do you not think so?”

“Atiny will love anything we do, honestly.” Hongjoong smiles. “They support us regardless of what we venture into. But, sure. I think a few dumb TikToks during our time off might go over well.”

“I want to film them,” Seonghwa insists. “I have a few trends we could try. Atiny will really like that.”

“I agree.” Yunho nods, then glances towards Wooyoung, tilting his bottle towards him. “What d’you think? Do you wanna participate?”

“Oh, yeah.” Wooyoung smiles. “Are you kidding?”

“Mm, if we do them in pairs, that’ll really get Atiny talking.” Seonghwa mentions, earning a look from Hongjoong. “What? You can’t tell me that you don’t like feeding into fan theories and stuff.”

“I get it, but I don’t know how the company would feel. We’ve gotta be careful about stuff like that.” Hongjoong says softly, earning a gentle frown from Seonghwa.

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ll ask about it. How about that?” Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa with a very fond gaze, one that makes Wooyoung want to throw up.

The eldest two had always been extremely close, but something unspoken had always lingered between the two of them. Hongjoong, always hateful of affection and touch, somehow accepted it from Seonghwa, on stage and behind closed doors, overly comfortable with the male’s presence and essence. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was overly affectionate, wanting to smother any one that he could with kisses and hugs. Hongjoong never seemed to mind with him, but if Wooyoung had tried, he’d recoil in pure distaste.

“I’ll do one with Mingi.” Yunho points out. “It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, so that means we’ve gotta do Woosan, don’t we?” San mentions to the group, and Seonghwa nods.

“Obviously. You’re the most notorious pair.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, taking another drink. “You guys make it out to be some type of scandal.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Jongho teases, now fully paying attention to the conversation. Wooyoung raises a brow, shaking his head.

“No. I wouldn’t break the rules of our contract like that.”

“I don’t think any of us would.” Hongjoong mentions. “Even if our terms are due to change upon our anniversary when we re-sign, that doesn’t mean we should be subjecting ourselves to risking anything that we have.”

“Yes, dad. We know.” San mumbles, earning stifled laughter from Mingi and Wooyoung both.

“I’m not scolding you, but we have to be clear headed about this. The fans know we are so incredibly close to one another, and sometimes that brings out their imaginations. ‘Woosan’ is the most active one, is it not?” Hongjoong looks at Wooyoung and San both, half-expecting them to agree, but neither of them make a motion to speak. “Okay, seriously. Yes? No?”

“I suppose.” Wooyoung shrugs. “What are you getting at?”

“What I’m trying to say is that we can allow the fans to speculate and grow curious, but we cannot do anything too risky to jeopardize everything that we have. So as long as our manager agrees to it, then we can do the videos as duos, okay? Otherwise we’ll just mix up the pairs.”

“You’ve been telling us this lecture for the last five years,” San smiles. “You care a lot about us, hyung. We’ll be fine. We wouldn’t do anything to endanger our career.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just feel the need to remind you sometimes.” Hongjoong takes a sip of his soju before standing up from the bench. “It’s been a long night. I know we’re on vacation now, but you guys should really get some rest. We worked hard the last six months, and we all could use a good eight hours of sleep.”

“I agree,” Yunho yawns. “Back to the dorm we go.”

Seonghwa and Jongho stand up too, waving their goodbyes as they trek back indoors. Mingi and Yeosang, who had stumbled out in the last minute or so, follow them like tipsy puppies, giving hugs and smiles to their members as they leave their shared dorm. Wooyoung remains seated, thinking a bit too deeply into Hongjoong’s words; ones that he’s heard over and over again, wondering about the consequences of something as simple as falling in love.

But, it wasn’t all that simple. Falling in love with one of the other members can ruin the chemistry between the team if a falling out were to happen, and that’s simply not worth the risk. However, Wooyoung acknowledges the way that feelings could very easily develop, considering how comfortable and close everyone was with one another.

But, was it so wrong to love someone? Was it so wrong to feel a certain way and to harbor such feelings? Was it so detrimental to want to be in love?

Wooyoung rolls his eyes at himself, leaning back in his chair, head tilting backwards, staring up at the nighttime sky ahead of him. The clouds were missing, leaving an array of stars to blink back at him, shining millions of lightyears away. The moon, ever present, shines brightly like a beacon, only barely at its full power as it sits as a waning gibbous.

He loves the darkness of the evening. Something about the presence of the moon had always felt so comfortable, something he could turn to in a hope of familiarity, seeking solace in the quiet the nighttime air had offered. His mind, always thinking and always active, became a reckless embodiment of anxiety, one that he struggled to control on his own. San and Yeosang had been actively involved in his daily battles with his own mind, especially during the days leading up to the tour and their final performances, but still, his anxiety persisted. He never let it take a hold of him on stage, swallowing all of his nerves the moment he heard the cheers from the crowd, allowing his persona to take a hold of his essence, performing to the best of his abilities as he fakes a smile to those who love him most.

He wanted to be happy and stress-free, he really, truly did. But life as an idol wasn’t like that. There were standards to follow, busy schedules, hardly enough time left in the day to think about himself, let alone relationships and friendships, sometimes even barely sleeping. But, it was worth all of that. This life has impacted him in ways he can hardly comprehend, learning how to love the stage and love music more in depth, but most importantly, finding a group of friends he can’t imagine living without.

There was something unspoken lingering within the group, a certain fear of failure that rattled their core every comeback. It wasn’t that they were afraid to disappoint their fans, Atiny, or themselves, but rather, they were afraid of never being or doing enough. Coming from a company that rose from nothing was hard enough, and they continue everyday to try and rise to the top and make a name for themselves. As of late, their tactics and their music had been providing that, landing them spots on the music charts that they’ve never seen before.

But, with every passing comeback season and album release, Wooyoung feels more weight on his shoulders. It’s not unbearable, by any means, but the added weight was noticeable, and for some reason, he couldn’t rid himself of this one.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” San asks, leaning his head back too, trying to gauge the same sightline as Wooyoung.

“Us. ATEEZ. The future.” Wooyoung sighs. “A lot has changed.”

“But we’ll always be the same, won’t we?”

“I hope so.” Wooyoung smiles, listening to San hum.

“I don’t want to lose anything I have right now.” San admits, fingers gently tapping the sides of his soju bottle. “I’m so happy like this. I can’t imagine changing a thing.”

“I’m happy too, Sannie.” Wooyoung tilts his head just enough, glancing over at San. “I never want this to end.”

San smiles at him, holding his arm out in a familiar gesture. “Amicus.”

Wooyoung smiles, touching San’s arm with his own. “Ad.”

“Aras,” they murmur together as their arms gently raise in tandem, smiling with quiet laughter.

Wooyoung truly can’t imagine a life without his friends, but more importantly, one without San in it. He loved him dearly, feeling like he had found his other half woven into the heart and soul of someone else. San felt like home; he always had. Moments like this, spent alone and just quietly enjoying one another’s presence, only amplified the love and affection Wooyoung truly held for the elder.

He knew their friendship had been seen awfully close by the outside world, considering the cheek kisses they had shared frequently, among the ass-slapping battle they’d engage in on stage, as well as the hugs and open affection they were willing to show on camera. It was taboo to some, but to Wooyoung, it was all he knew. He didn’t want a friendship any less than this, one that took his soul and kept it safe, tucked away by the gentle caress of someone who truly loved him and cherished him, afraid to ever hurt the male and his fragile heart.

Wooyoung and San would bicker openly, but it never damaged the love they had for one another. He was so thankful to be a part of a team that held such affection for its members, as well as cherishing the memories they had made.

This was what Wooyoung felt he needed, even if he felt an emptiness welling inside of him. He wanted to be truly loved; hopelessly and without a care in the world. He knew his contract, he knew what it meant to accept someone like that into his life. But he wanted it all the same.

The rush of someone’s lips on his, the caress of someone’s hand tangled with his own, save for intimate touches and the longing to be held; Wooyoung wants all of it. Not being able to have something so common makes his heart ache and burn all in the same gesture, leaving his mind a jumbled mess into thinking about what he truly had wanted.

He was bound to his contract, tried to his restrictions and glued to a heinous schedule, leaving his heart empty and waiting for someone to fill the void. He would do anything to feel cherished in a way a friend couldn’t provide, knowing that he’d have someone to come home to and go to sleep with, to touch and to hold, to confide every part of his soul into, yet it felt so out of reach. He could reach out with everything he had, watching as his longing for intimacy slipped through his fingertips, leaving him isolated in his career and anxieties.

“Woo?” San asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah?”

“You should sleep in my room.”

“Why’s that?” Wooyoung chuckles, leaning his head back down, gazing back towards San amusingly.

“I’m kind of tipsy. I don’t know. I just want you to.”

“Make sure Yeosang and Mingi are asleep, then we can, okay? We don’t need another Woosan scandal.”

San rolls his eyes, taking another drink of his soju until the bottle runs empty. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll go check on ’em.”

Wooyoung watches as San rises from his seat slightly wobbly, setting the bottle down and heading inside in search of their dorm-mates. Wooyoung eyes his bottle of soju, sighing before taking another long drink, listening to the silence of the evening cover him like a sheet of warmth.

It had always been soothing to sit out on their balcony after a show, letting the world around him pass by without a single wavering thought. The evening sunset had always caught Wooyoung’s attention, sneaking outside whenever he’s able, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky welcomed the beaming moon. Rain or shine, Wooyoung would always wait for the moon, attaching himself to the idea that the moon would always be there for him to look at, allowing the peace that radiates to swallow him whole and make him numb.

“They’re in bed. C’mon.” San says as he pokes his head out of the sliding door, watching Wooyoung with a sleepy smile. Wooyoung downs the rest of his soju, setting the bottle down on the table, knowing that he’d try to clean all of this up tomorrow, but he also knew that he’d likely forget and Seonghwa would do it anyway.

The dorm was silent, save for their footsteps as they trek through the living space and head towards the corridor that leads towards the four bedrooms. All of the doors had been shut except for the two remaining members, and Wooyoung made a note to close his door before sinking into San’s room.

“Don’t put the TV on.” Wooyoung points at San, raising a brow.

“I won’t, I won’t. I know you like the quiet.”

Wooyoung smiles at him, waiting as San sinks into his bed first, arm open as he waits for Wooyoung to join him. As the younger moves to join the other male, the comforter serves as a warm hug, welcoming him with open arms as he sighs in relief. San’s bed was annoyingly comfortable, and he refused to admit to how much he had truly liked sleeping in his bed considering how many times a week he had done it anyway.

Yeosang knew about Wooyoung’s secret affection for San, knowing that it began to extend farther than a platonic love in the eyes of the younger, but neither of them had bothered to talk about it. Wooyoung had let the secret slip after drinking a bit too much after an award’s ceremony, and from then on, Yeosang made it a note to tease the male, but never openly said anything in regards to Wooyoung’s feelings.

This routine, the one Wooyoung had so thoughtlessly relied on, stemmed from his longing to be loved. San never seemed to mind, considering he nearly begged Wooyoung to sleep in his bed from time to time, and that only drove his feelings to stir deeper.

The familiarity of all of this brought a specific comfort to Wooyoung’s life, soaking in the warmth and adoration from the other, sleeping through the night without the fear of nightmares or anxious thoughts to keep him wide awake. Times like this, lying close and cuddling against the male, were ones that Wooyoung didn’t wish he had to keep a secret. San made him so ridiculously happy, and not being able to voice that happiness was slightly suffocating. But he knew that they’d get in trouble for all of this, so he smiles to himself as he closes his eyes, soaking in whatever affection he could, knowing that he could never have anything more than this.

“Woo?” San asks sleepily.

Wooyoung’s eyes gently open, looking at the male fondly. “Hm?”

“I really cherish you.” San mumbles. Wooyoung smiles, hand reaching up to move strands of San’s ebony hair away from his eyes.

“I know. I cherish you, too.”

“Can I ask you something?” San’s voice is softer, eyes closed, tilting on the edge of sleep yet still so adamant on his question.

“You can ask me anything.” Wooyoung smiles, even though San can’t see it.

“Would you ever want more than this?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened. “More?”

“More than being friends.” San was clearly tipsy and likely exhausted, but even still, a lingering hint of truth attaches itself to San’s tone, and Wooyoung can’t entirely convince himself that he was talking incoherently.

“Get some sleep, Sannie. You’re not making sense.”

“Answer me.” San presses gently, eyes opening, looking into Wooyoung’s own.

“Sannie, you know we can’t even if I did–”

“But if I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

Wooyoung’s brows pinch, searching San’s gaze as confusion lingers on his tongue. He knew what he wanted, but he couldn’t tell if this was what San had wanted. He was nearly drunk, possibly letting words roll off of his tongue without thought, letting whatever feelings loose.

“I–”

“You can be honest with me, Woo.” San responds, shifting closer, hand carefully moving upwards to land on Wooyoung’s jaw. Wooyoung doesn’t flinch, doesn’t dare move as he sits and looks at his best friend, his soul mate, wondering where this urge to question their friendship came from.

Wooyoung knew he had liked San. He couldn’t imagine not liking him considering how close they were, but the idea of San possibly returning those feelings was a revelation of truth that Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he was prepared to hear.

“You’re not thinking straight,” Wooyoung quietly murmurs, feeling San’s touch continue to linger.

“You know I’m a bit impulsive.”

“Yeah, but this–” Wooyoung’s breath catches in his throat, watching San’s gaze flick to his lips. “We can’t.”

“And yet I want to.”

“You shouldn’t.” Wooyoung lets San move closer, their faces merely an inch apart, lips hovering, watching as San’s eyes lull and his voice turns quieter.

“Stop talking–”

“San.”

“Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung watches San, heart thumping against his chest painfully fast, nearly able to hear his own quickening pulse in his ears. San was closing in, and Wooyoung couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. He wanted this, he always had. Knowing that San wanted this too made it harder to resist the will to kiss him.

“Please.” San murmurs, lips just barely brushing past Wooyoung’s.

“Joong will be so mad at us,” Wooyoung responds quietly.

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“You know I don’t like promises and secrets, Sannie.”

“Wouldn’t you do that for me?” San asks teasingly. “Aren’t we worth the secret?”

“You are.” Wooyoung breathes shakily. “I just–”

“Don’t think about it.” San swallows, eyes closed, reaching a hand up to rest against Wooyoung’s jaw and thread just barely into his hair. “Take what you want from me, Wooyoung.”

“I want you.” Wooyoung says, tilting his jaw forward, just barely pressing his lips against San’s in a ghost-like kiss, afraid to pass over a boundary that both of them had long avoided.

“Then have me.” San presses closer, fingers just barely curling into Wooyoung’s hair as he steps over the threshold, swallowing the gasp Wooyoung lets free as their lips crash together.

Wooyoung can taste the mix of soju clashing between them, but everything about the kiss was gentle, coated in longing and soaked in the urge to keep going. Wooyoung had wished for this in the dark of his dorm for months, but he had always accepted that he could never have anything close to this.

Even when San breaks apart from the kiss, Wooyoung blinks his eyes open, looking at the male, waiting for any type of regret or drunken excuses to become of him, but all he finds is acceptance.

“Thank you,” San says quietly, thumb stroking against Wooyoung’s cheek. His voice was so sleepy and deep, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile at how cute he had sounded.

“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mm.” San smiles as his eyes lull shut, hand lowering to Wooyoung’s waist as he pulls him closer. Wooyoung allows him, pressing a gentle kiss to San’s forehead.

Wooyoung cuddles closer, relishing in the closeness that he’s never been able to grasp until now. He knew things would change in the morning, and even if he couldn’t have a fraction of what he had just felt, he was okay with that. He was okay with San just wanting to remain as friends, but he knew deep down, he’d never be able to see San as just a friend.