Chapter Text
As Yeosang grew older, he learned to carry fewer expectations. The less he expected, the less he became disappointed.
He found that to be true for a lot of things. He learned to suppress the incessant itch in his chest that craved praise whenever he completed his monthly evaluations. He learned to rid himself of any fantasies of being named one of the brightest trainees, never anticipating good news whenever the company called him in for talks. Never expected for his name to be called out in the potential final debut list, despite his peers looking on at him doe-eyed with wonder, expecting his name to be called.
Which was why he stood there, feet plastered to the ground, when a particular Jung Wooyoung appeared outside the entrance of the practice room on one fine day.
Jung Wooyoung didn’t belong here. He was supposed to be preparing for debut, being one of the most promising trainees back at their previous company. He wasn’t supposed to be standing here, suitcase in tow, wearing one of Yeosang’s hoodies that he had forgotten to take with him when he left. It was like a badly-edited image screaming at Yeosang, asking for him to spot everything that was wrong about it.
Wooyoung , the cogs in Yeosang’s brain began to turn upon seeing Wooyoung, who had still been standing there at the entrance. The other members began making their way towards Wooyoung, gathering around him. Hongjoong extended his hand in warm welcome, and Wooyoung gave his most charming, megawatt smile, the one he usually gave when meeting people for the first time. But Wooyoung’s smile didn’t quite meet his eyes - his eyes were searching; searching for something, for someone - for Yeosang .
The group around Wooyoung dispersed slightly, and everyone turned around to look at Yeosang, who had still been lingering around the speakers. As the group moved apart, they made space for Yeosang to step within the little circle they had formed around Wooyoung.
It was then Yeosang finally saw Wooyoung properly for the first time in 2 months - the longest they had ever been apart since they had known each other. The realisation hit him hard and fast - an overwhelming surge of emotions rising up in his throat as Wooyoung stepped forward, arms spread wide.
Yeosang felt a gentle nudge on his lower back, prompting him to snap out of his reverie. He didn’t have to turn his back to know it was San.
Yeosang stumbled into Wooyoung’s chest, and Wooyoung held him, squeezed him, the familiar sensation enveloping him whole. There was a mess of limbs where they met, and wet, hot tears that he knew for sure were Wooyoung’s. Yeosang fists the back of Wooyoung’s hoodie - his hoodie - tightly, burying his head into Wooyoung’s shoulder. Yeosang didn’t ever want to let go, clinging onto Wooyoung as if to make him stay in the present, to never let him leave his side again. The hold Wooyoung had on him told him the very same - that he was planning to stay by Yeosang’s side for as long as he let him. Words left unsaid over the past 2 months spilled over their embrace, a tumble of emotions the both of them withheld for the sake of not letting each other worry.
They pulled apart, and Yeosang opened his mouth to speak first, Wooyoung’s name at the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out. Wooyoung clutched both of Yeosang’s arms loosely still.
But of course, Wooyoung, insufferable as always, beat him to it. “Yeosang,” he sniffled, a lopsided grin making its way to his face. “Hi.”
Wooyoung’s eyes carried a twinge of guilt in them, and Yeosang didn’t need Wooyoung to say it aloud for him to understand him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang breathed, his first time speaking Wooyoung’s name aloud to Wooyoung himself in a while. He wanted to wipe Wooyoung’s tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie, but held back when he felt the eyes of the others on them. It’s okay, Yeosang tried to tell Wooyoung. I’m just glad you’re here.
Out of his peripheral vision, Yeosang felt San’s gaze trained on him, amused. His face bore the fondest of expressions, a tender smile playing upon his lips. He could almost hear San’s voice in his head. Go on, tell him how much you miss him . But the words were caught in the back of his throat - he knew Wooyoung understood through the way Yeosang looked at him. And he was right - Wooyoung squeezed his arm, a knowing look on his face. I know. Yeosang felt a wave of relief wash over his entire being.
Back at the dorms, Wooyoung was assigned to room with Jongho, being the two trainees who joined the most recently.
It was strange seeing Wooyoung at their dorm - a space in which Yeosang had learnt to live alone without Wooyoung, for the first time since they had been separated, just for Wooyoung to seamlessly weave his way into Yeosang’s life again.
Unlike Yeosang, Wooyoung had lived in a shared trainee dorm before. Right up to the point where Yeosang departed, Wooyoung had been preparing to move to a dorm for trainees in the confirmed debut line-up. Wooyoung had called Yeosang to deliver the news - but there had been no excitement in his voice. He had merely been stating it as a fact.
Yeosang had always wondered why, until he shared a look with Wooyoung as they stood outside Wooyoung’s shared room with Jongho.
Wooyoung’s eyes gleamed, a little shiny, looking like he was about to tear up once again. It wasn’t like he had never stepped foot inside a trainee dorm, or shared a room with another trainee - this was nothing new to him. Yeosang was about to ask, when Wooyoung stepped forward to clutch Yeosang on the arm.
“You’re not mad at me for not telling you?” Wooyoung’s voice wavered, the greatest of concerns written clearly across his face. Yeosang’s heart clenched at the thought that Wooyoung travelled all the way here, to a completely new place, just for his biggest worry to be about whether or not Yeosang would be mad at him. When he could have worried about more important things - whether he would get along with the other trainees, whether he would still be seen as the best. But apparently none of that mattered to him.
“No. How could I ever be mad at you, punk?” Yeosang returned softly. Wooyoung’s expression relaxed, an invisible weight lifted off his shoulders, face mellowing into something more fragile.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” Wooyoung whispered, and Yeosang wanted to grab him, shake him all over, ask him why he risked everything just to be able to stand here with him. They could have met on bigger stages, as they had promised each other ages ago. Wooyoung seemed to have read his mind, able to read even the most minuscule shifts in Yeosang’s features.
“It would be really weird if we went through all that together just for us to… to not debut together, you know?” Wooyoung struggled with great difficulty to get the second part of the sentence out, as if saying it out loud would somehow manifest it into reality. Wooyoung shuddered at the thought, and before he could say any further, Yeosang stepped closer, drawing Wooyoung into his arms.
“It’s okay. I’m right here,” Yeosang replied, voice trembling with emotion. Yeosang pet Wooyoung’s hair like how one would soothe a child. Wooyoung’s face crumpled in an instant, and wordlessly, allowed himself to be cradled by the person he came here for. His heart lay open, vulnerable, feelings flowing endlessly like water to a dam. And Yeosang held him closer, closer than he ever had before, sealing whatever distance they had between them.
Yeosang entered his own shared room with San later than he normally would, slipping in quietly though he knew San would not be asleep yet. Reaching to shut the blinds, he found that doing mundane things as part of his pre-bedtime routine helped him find normalcy amongst everything that had happened to him that night. He placed a cup of water on the bedside table, as San had the tendency to wake up in the middle of the night to perform his own middle-of-the-night routine. He would get up to use the bathroom, then drink a full glass of water before going back to sleep. Yeosang didn’t really understand why San did that, but he came to learn that there were many things San did that he would never fully get.
San did not say a single word throughout Yeosang’s bustling about in their shared room, though Yeosang clearly knew he was awake from the sounds of his shallow breathing.
Yeosang turned off the night light on the bedside, which San had purposely left on since he knew Yeosang would be coming back to a pitch dark room if he hadn’t. Yeosang found the gesture to be oddly considerate; something others may not have thought of if they weren’t San.
When Yeosang finally climbed into bed, San opened his mouth to speak, as if waiting for Yeosang to be completely settled in before saying something he wanted Yeosang to hear.
“Yeosang?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m really glad you have Wooyoung back,” San spoke, and Yeosang could hear the slight smile in his voice - the image conjuring itself in his mind unknowingly. He spoke softly but with intention, meaning for Yeosang to hear every word. Yeosang’s breath hitched, not having expected a statement as such coming from San all of a sudden.
Yeosang didn’t know how to respond, his mind filtering through a series of possible deductions he could make from that statement.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” San echoed back in his full enthusiasm.
There was so much sincerity bleeding through his voice, overflowing with such genuine happiness that Yeosang didn’t quite know what to do with. But there was also a certain wistfulness that bore some semblance to the way Yeosang’s mother sounded when Yeosang left home for the first time - letting him roam free on his own in the world, although missing him dearly. It was as if San believed Wooyoung would take care of him from now on, and it was time for him to go.
Part of Yeosang willed for San to say something more - but he didn’t know what exactly he had wanted for San to say. Just something .
You can’t just leave me now, Yeosang wanted to say, words unable to leave his mouth. You’re my best friend too. Yeosang so badly wanted to reach out, to let his fingers fall upon San’s soft, soft hands, to pull him back. Where was he to find courage if not for San?
Yeosang berated himself for being unable to say those words, those that would mean the world if he were able to verbalise them.
Instead, he let San’s words hang thick in the air, wishing they would dissolve before he could cling onto them for any longer.
_______
“You’re doing this all wrong!” Wooyoung exclaimed, alarmed, taking the spatula from San’s hands. The batter San had been mixing was clearly not getting any thicker, still watery-thin from when they had first started.
“You do it, then, I’m going to help Seonghwa-hyung with the stew,” San sniffed, stepping aside to let Wooyoung take the reins. As he stepped away from the kitchen counter, Wooyoung laughed, curling his fingers around San’s wrist to drag him back.
“No, come back here, you can learn,” Wooyoung gestured at the mixing bowl while looking up at San, who peered curiously at the batter which grew thicker by the second through Wooyoung’s salvaging.
“See? Just keep mixing it, I’ve added more cornstarch to thicken it. It’s not that hard right?” Wooyoung handed the spatula back to San, letting him take charge again. San let out a satisfied hum as the batter started taking shape.
As San reached to the side for more cornstarch, he spotted Yeosang lingering right outside the doorway, about to enter the kitchen.
San’s eyes brightened upon seeing Yeosang, who stood there with a confused look in his eyes.
“Seonghwa-hyung is looking for kitchen gloves,” Yeosang looked right past San, who looked as if this was the single best thing that happened to him the entire day.
“Yeosangie!” San squealed, completely ignoring Yeosang’s sentence.
Wooyoung didn't turn his back from the tray of cookies he was glazing, nodding towards his left to gesture at the oven.
“They’re just hanging from the oven handle. Be careful though, I just preheated the oven so it might be hot,” Wooyoung warned, and Yeosang uttered a quick thanks, heading straight for the oven.
San stopped Yeosang in his tracks, barricading him from the oven. As Yeosang tried to move past San, San lightly poked him on the nose, leaving a faint blotch of cornstarch on his face. Yeosang wrinkled his nose, earning a giggle from a very-delighted San, who resisted the urge to pinch Yeosang on the cheek.
At the commotion, Wooyoung set down his piping bag before reaching to the oven next to him to grab the pair of gloves. He turned around at the pair, handing the pair of gloves to Yeosang.
“Thanks,” Yeosang mumbled against San’s shoulder, now trapped between his arms in an embrace. His eyes and nose were the only thing still visible now that San had practically engulfed him. Wooyoung reached forward, easily swiping away the stray bit of cornstarch San had left on his nose.
When San finally released Yeosang, Yeosang shook his disheveled hair back into place like a tiny dog that just got out of a shower.
“Anything you guys need help with?”
“It’s fine, you can go back to Seonghwa-hyung,” Wooyoung said at the same time San quipped: “A hug!”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and Yeosang huffed in fake annoyance, slinking out of the kitchen with his oven gloves before Seonghwa could worry about why he had gone missing.
Dinner was quite the affair - Hongjoong had insisted on “team-bonding” time, which meant the eight of them gathering to cook a meal together. There were plates upon plates of food, which looked like a lot, but Yeosang was certain they would finish it in no time.
The cookies and pancakes were set in the middle of the table, and Yeosang wasn’t quite sure why Hongjoong had approved of that as dinner food. But there were a lot of things that happened at the dorm that Yeosang often couldn't find an explanation for.
Hongjoong stood up all of a sudden, holding a coke bottle in his hand and a chopstick in another, tapping the single chopstick against the bottle to gain everyone’s attention.
“Guys,” Hongjoong said ceremoniously, and everyone turned their heads to look at him - expecting him to make some sort of grand announcement.
“I’m glad we could all gather like this. I’m really thankful that we came together as a team,” Hongjoong started, a little bashfully, yet with a certain authoritativeness that commanded the room whenever he spoke. “I just wanted to say that before we properly started our meal.”
Everyone cheered, with Mingi clapping him on the back, the sound reverberating through their tiny living room. Hongjoong sat back down, cheeks dusted pink with embarrassment.
He cleared his throat, laughing a little. “Well, that’s it from me. Does anyone have anything else to add before we start?” Hongjoong looked around the table, looking out for anyone who might have wanted to say something.
It was Wooyoung that opened his mouth to speak after a moment, voice small.
“I agree with Hongjoong. Thank you for letting me join your team,” pausing to look at everyone properly, letting his eyes speak the thoughts he couldn’t express through sheer words alone.
“This was my last shot at being an idol, and even if I didn’t make it, I would have been happy that I met you guys.” Wooyoung confessed, baring his deepest thoughts out for his teammates - his family - to see.
From Wooyoung’s side, Seonghwa patted the back of Wooyoung’s head in acknowledgment and comfort, the bond in which they have created over the months exhibited in its purest form.
Yunho raised his bottle of Pepsi up in the air, nodding. “Cheers to that.” The rest followed, raising their own respective bottles of Coke or Pepsi to clink against Wooyoung’s own.
“Look at our Wooyoung, all grown up,” San teased from his other side, leaning in closer to coo at him.
“Shut up,” Wooyoung shied away, swatting at San, yet smiling until it reached his eyes. Soon, everyone joined in on cooing at Wooyoung, pinching at his cheeks and digging their arms into his side to tickle him.
Hongjoong looked on at the sight fondly, raising his bottle once again. “Should we start our meal then?” Everyone turned their attention to Hongjoong once again at the sound of his voice, giving Hongjoong the cue to go ahead.
“Here’s to a better year ahead!” Hongjoong announced, and a cacophony of cheers erupted from their little group, nothing but happiness spilling out in waves.
Wooyoung lifted his bottle to clink against the others again, squished against San who had one arm looped around his shoulders. They were pressed closely against each other, yelling well wishes over each other’s voices as their drinks threatened to spill out of their bottles. Between everyone’s extended arms reaching out to toast, Yeosang managed to catch a glimpse of San - Wooyoung in one arm, and drink in the other. He caught San’s gaze - the split second in which their eyes met seemed to set off something in him; like the crackling of firecrackers, alight with a fervour that buzzed within him. San’s lips immediately curved to form a smile that radiated the warmth of a hearth on a cold day, eyes crinkling up in delight and adoration. The pure affection that seeped endlessly through his gaze tugged at Yeosang’s heartstrings.
San broke away from Yeosang’s gaze to respond to Wooyoung, pointing at the plate of pancakes in front of him. Wooyoung turned to punch San in the chest, earning a loud peal of laughter from San. The image of them bickering whilst Wooyoung was snug against San’s side was a true dichotomy - their entire friendship summarised in a frame of seconds. Something in Yeosang’s chest shifted upon seeing the very image of Wooyoung and San getting along, fitting right into each other's lives as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was as if seeing this scene right before him was the missing piece that Yeosang needed all along; waiting for it to be pieced together into the giant puzzle that was Yeosang’s life. Yeosang looked away before his heart would burst open at its seams.
Yeosang reached for a piece of chicken in the middle of the table, and San beat him to it, dropping the piece he had been eyeing onto Yeosang’s plate.
For the first time in a long time, Yeosang felt that things would truly be alright.
_______
“You’re all set,” The stylist set down her curling iron as she finished straightening the last section of Yeosang’s hair. Yeosang’s hair was dyed back to black this time - after numerous times of bleaching and dyeing his hair over and over again, he thought that he ought to give his scalp a well-deserved break. His bangs were parted to the side, revealing part of his forehead.
San constantly marvelled at the condition of Yeosang’s hair. “How do you manage to keep it so soft?” San would say, while running his fingers through the strands at the back of Yeosang’s head. Admittedly, Yeosang had felt slightly bad for dyeing his hair back to black after seeing the little pout on San’s face when he insisted that Yeosang should have kept the blonde.
With success hot on their heels, they had gotten increasingly busy - several members being whisked away to film for their dramas, bagging lucrative brand deals as well as getting invited on a survival show with many talented seniors. Yeosang never really had the luxury of rest anymore - let alone spend free time with San. He missed having San sitting right next to him, mindlessly playing with his hair as he engrossed himself in beating a level on a game.
Yeosang made sure to thank the stylist properly, moving out of his chair to let the next member have their turn in getting their hair styled. Preparation for music shows was hectic - he often awed at the amount of staff that were present just so they could stand on stage for less than five minutes.
With his makeup and hair done, as well as his outfit put on, Yeosang moved out into the hallway outside of the waiting room in hopes to get a quick snack before they had to go on stage.
Yeosang made his way towards the vending machine, looking down at his phone. A steady hand landed itself on his shoulder, causing him to jolt up in alarm.
He turned around to see San holding a can of Coke in his other hand - his cheshire cat smile spread wide across his face.
“You scared me,” Yeosang brought a hand up to his chest, heaving a sigh.
San’s grin only grew wider, stepping an inch closer to Yeosang.
“For you,” San took the hand Yeosang brought up to his chest, placing the can of Coke in his palm.
Yeosang raised his eyebrows in surprise, staring at the can in his hands. “For me?”
San only nodded, as if it was already made obvious. “Yeah. I saw you going out and I knew you were going out to buy Coke. I found a spare can lying around in the waiting room, so…” San trailed off.
“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Yeosang returned, a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Well, I do try my best,” San shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face.
Yeosang didn’t hesitate to lift the tab of the can, taking a long sip.
He lifted the can away from his mouth to find San staring intently at the corner of his lips. The sound of blood rushing through Yeosang’s ears seemed to grow increasingly louder, deafening enough to drown out all the background noise.
“Is there something there?” Yeosang managed weakly, bringing a hand up to the corner of his lips. He hoped San didn’t see his hand shaking ever so slightly.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, San’s pupils quivered- easily missed if Yeosang hadn’t been searching his face for an answer. His gaze snapped back up at Yeosang’s eyes.
“No,” San whispered, barely audible. “No, there isn’t.” His gaze never left Yeosang’s lips, and whatever confidence San had in his voice previously seemed to have disappeared in an instant. Yeosang’s chest tightened, the expression on San’s face unreadable.
He stared down at San’s chest. He wanted to grip the fabric of San’s blazer and force San to look right at him. Stop looking at me like that if you aren’t going to do anything about it, Yeosang wanted to scream. He prided himself for his patience, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to wait. But what stood in his way was an inch too far to reach into the depths of San’s heart, and the uncertainty of his own.
“Okay,” Yeosang replied after what felt like forever, and he felt his chest deflate, the rush of adrenaline from the past few seconds slowly leaking out of his system as he stepped away from San. The intent look that San held in his eyes previously melted into something more gentle - the way he usually looked at Yeosang.
San looked like he wanted to say something - and Yeosang held his gaze. Say something, anything, Yeosang found himself willing, urgency crawling at the edge of his throat. A feeling of déjà vu hit him.
“I’ll go back now, I just wanted to pass you that,” San finally spoke, and Yeosang wanted to grasp at whatever San had left behind in his wake - and what now? What else was it that you wanted to do?
But Yeosang found himself nodding, watching as San turned his back to leave, slipping away from his grasp.
_______
The company announced that they would be sent off for a short trip in May. They were told that they would be filming a music video and promotional content on some days, but other than that they were free to do whatever they wanted in their spare time.
As much as they all wanted an actual vacation with no work involved, this was the closest they would ever get to going on holiday at this point in time.
At the early beginnings of dusk, the members boarded a plane to Jeju Island - the adrenaline of being on stage a few days ago still lingering in their bones.
“I want to go biking,” San had shot up from his seat when the members discussed what they were going to do during their few days of freedom upon wrapping up filming for their music video.
Seonghwa leaned against his chair, crossing his arms. “I’ll probably just stay near the resort, and check out the cafes nearby. Does anyone want to join me?” Several of them hummed in consideration, and Jongho nodded contemplatively.
“I’ll join you, I kind of wanted to explore the area anyway,” Jongho decided.
“Me too, I brought my film camera,” Hongjoong chimed in, and the three of them began talking amongst themselves excitedly.
“Well that leaves us,” Yunho laughed, spreading his arms to gesture around the rest of them gathered around the table. “Should we all just go biking together with San?” Yunho suggested, while shifting closer to the rest of them. Wooyoung and Mingi looked elated at the suggestion, agreement written clearly on their faces.
“Yeosang, you’re okay with that right?” San pointedly looked at Yeosang, and Yeosang nodded fervently.
“I don’t mind, I’m good with it as long as everyone else is,” Yeosang easily agreed, and a wide grin spread across San’s face.
“Okay, that’s decided then. Any suggestions on where to go?” As soon as Yunho asked, Wooyoung pulled out a page he had found on biking route suggestions, tapping away on his phone.
Within the next hour, their small group of 5 set off to the bike rental shop, with Yunho as the designated driver. Their manager had been reluctant to send the 5 of them alone, let alone allowing them to drive without a chaperone. But a little pout from San and reassurance that it would be Yunho behind the wheels seemed to convince their manager, waving them away to head off onto their trip.
By the time they reached the start of the trail, the sky grew darker - ominous enough to forewarn a potential downpour, but not dark enough for it to start pouring immediately. They glanced up at the sky worriedly, but Wooyoung seemed to be the only one who didn’t mind.
“Don’t worry, we have our ponchos in our bag,” Wooyoung patted the back of his backpack, which he had slung over one shoulder. When they had stopped at the gas station for a short break not long ago, Wooyoung came up with the ingenious suggestion to buy rain ponchos in case it started raining.
Yunho nodded, gravel crunching under his feet as he hopped onto his bike. “Should we just keep pedalling until we reach the beach? I think it’s about 30 minutes from here.”
The rest agreed easily, getting onto their own bikes. Yeosang put his own helmet on, fiddling with the straps in attempt to tighten the helmet on his head.
When San saw the sight before him, taking off his own helmet before shaking his hair back into place.
“Here, take mine, it’s probably the right size for you,” San offered casually, handing his own helmet to Yeosang.
“Oh, thank you,” Yeosang felt his cheeks heat up as he spoke, being held under San’s gaze as he struggled with his helmet.
Giving a little chuckle, San reached over, adjusting the straps on the helmet that Yeosang had just placed over his own head.
“There we go,” San smiled in satisfaction once the helmet had been fitted perfectly on Yeosang’s head.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter to Yeosang anymore that the sky was a bit too gloomy that day.
The beach slowly came into view as they biked further down the trail.
“Wow, we really lucked out here,” Mingi gasped, upon seeing from afar that there was hardly anyone in sight.
“That’s because nobody goes biking when it looks like it’s about to rain,” Wooyoung teased, pedalling a little faster to catch up with Mingi.
Yunho jumped to Mingi’s defence almost immediately. “It’s a rock beach, I think regardless there wouldn’t have been that many people here. Besides, we travelled quite far in,” Yunho observed, eyes travelling down the long strip of beach that stretched out before them.
It was as if the sky heard their pleas - the sky began to brighten up as they edged closer to the shoreline, pebbles and rocks of various sizes littering the entire span of the beach.
The clouds parted, allowing the thin rays of sunlight to pass through. San sighed, a dreamy expression gracing his features. He stopped his bike, and the rest followed, pausing to take in the sight before them. The waves rolled gently along the ocean, taking in years; and perhaps decades of debris along with them. Yeosang watched the waves, feeling the burden and stress built up over the past few months being washed away along with the debris into the depths of the ocean.
“I think I’m going to keep going ahead, anyone joining in?” Yunho suddenly spoke, ever the efficient one, always on the move.
Mingi snapped out of his daze, blinking before nodding. “Sure, I’ll come,” and as soon as Mingi spoke, Wooyoung kicked the latch behind his bike to unlock it, making a move to follow them.
“You guys coming?” Yunho looked at San and Yeosang, and San shook his head.
“I think I’ll stay here for a bit, you guys can go ahead.” San turned around to look at Yeosang, nodding his head towards Yunho in question.
“I’ll stay with San,” Yeosang decided easily when he looked San in the eyes.
“Alright, I’ll see you guys soon,” Yunho waved, getting onto his bike, pedalling away within seconds to catch up with Mingi and Wooyoung.
When Yeosang turned to glance at San, he had returned to staring out into the horizon. He had a serene look on his face, eyes about to flutter shut. There was a slight breeze - Yeosang watched the wind tussle through San’s hair. His fringe had long gone past his eyebrows, thin wisps tickling his eyes. The dark purple of his hair had faded into a soothing mauve, gleaming underneath the light. He let himself watch - he had no need to be self-conscious when it was just him and San, San’s eyes practically closed.
Suddenly, urgency crawled at his throat again once they were left alone. Somehow the comfort of the sunlight and the glistening waters brought him back to the little kitchen at their old dorm, on that fateful winter’s day. Another kind of warmth. The pressing of San’s body against him, wrapped tightly in an embrace on the day Wooyoung came back, radiating with so much genuine happiness. I’m so glad you have Wooyoung back . There were knots in his chest then. You’re my best friend too, Yeosang had wanted to say back then. But he never got to say it.
Say something, Yeosang thought to himself.
It's now or never.
“San?” Yeosang found himself saying, surprising himself at the way his voice sounded, bolder than he had expected.
San seemed a little surprised too, turning around lazily to face Yeosang, like a cat basking in the afternoon sun. A gentle smile played on his lips. “Yeah?”
And there it was again. That look in his eyes that seared right through Yeosang’s soul, incinerating him. Yeosang would have shied away from his gaze instinctively, if not for his sheer willpower.
“Remember when Wooyoung came back? And you told me you were happy he was back?” Yeosang started, willing his voice not to shake. San tilted his head slightly as if trying to recall the memory.
“Yeah, I do,” San smiled a little at the memory, but his face fell upon seeing the nervousness Yeosang had been trying so hard to hide.
“I never got to say it, but I was so afraid that you would leave me when Wooyoung came back. I wanted to tell you that you were my best friend too.” Yeosang’s heart threatened to beat out of his ribcage.
San’s eyes grew wide. For a moment he doesn't speak; an expression of shock on his face. It then shifted into something less so when he realised his lack of response might potentially worry Yeosang.
When San finally opened his mouth, there was heartbreak in his voice.
“Oh, Yeosang,” San spoke, ever so softly, tenderness in his every word. “I would never leave you alone.” His eyes glistened a little, and Yeosang wasn’t sure if it was the sunlight reflecting in his eyes.
And when San’s confession left itself hanging in the air, Yeosang realised belatedly there was never a moment where he truly felt alone once he had met San.
With his entire heart spilled out in front of San like that, he felt as if there was truly no emotional proximity left between them now that San knew the truth.
Up close, he could see the beginnings of tears welling up in San’s eyes. Yeosang moved closer, reaching up with a thumb to swipe away at a tear that finally ran loose, trickling down San’s cheekbone.
“Don’t cry,” Yeosang whispered, knowing what he just said wouldn’t have stopped those tears.
“I’m not,” San shot Yeosang a crooked grin, another obvious tear rolling down his cheek, with Yeosang’s hand still on his face. Yeosang could feel his fingers burn under the touch. Without realising, his eyes lingered on the wet streak that continued all the way down to the corner of San’s mouth.
San seemed to have noticed, too, immediately stilling under Yeosang’s touch.
Before Yeosang could run through another list of possible things that could go wrong in his head, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the edge of San’s mouth, short and quick.
And when he looked up, San’s expression was unreadable - an overwhelming amalgamation of emotions that Yeosang was too nervous to decipher. As Yeosang drew back, fear hovering over the corners of his mind, San curled his fingers around the hand Yeosang had placed on his face just seconds before. Don’t go .
But there was a certain hesitation; a newfound type of fear in San’s eyes as Yeosang stared deeply into them - his touches were careful; as if Yeosang was an easily-startled animal that could bound away any second. San looked at Yeosang imploringly, his eyes seeking permission to take a peek into Yeosang’s heart.
Yeosang nodded, and it was like San understood everything at once - an expression of relief and ease washing over his face, drawing Yeosang closer to him, hand threaded through the tresses of hair at the nape of his neck. Whatever nervousness Yeosang had in his system vanished when they met in the middle, his heart that had been teetering right over the edge now set back on track. Yeosang moved to let his hand snake behind the small of San's back, warmth spreading through his fingertips. San pressed closer to him, encouraging. He let Yeosang navigate through familiar yet unfamiliar territory, lips parting open, pliant and patient. Safe, safe, safe. Hearing the roaring of the waves behind them, it was as if everything was meant to fall into place right at that very moment.
There was a longing look in San's eyes when they drew apart inevitably - immediately searching for Yeosang’s hands to hold again; determined to never make him feel alone in this world.
Yeosang treasured the reassuring, familiar feeling of San’s hand in his own, committing it to memory.
He stared out at the sea, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.
They could brave the world together.