Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wooyoung cursed the day he wasn’t born rich so that he wouldn’t need to work to pay his college tuition. If only someone in his family was a millionaire or he had inherited exorbitant amounts of money from a very distant relative that he had never heard about, he wouldn’t have to be here right now, sitting behind the counter of an empty coffee shop at 3am.

Alas, no one in his family was rich and there were no mysterious distant relatives to provide for him, so he was stuck working for hours on end, most of the time in the dead of night, and, more often than not, with no one to keep him company.

At least it was good for his productivity. With no one to talk to because everyone was sleeping and nothing to do because barely anyone visited the coffee shop at 3am, the only alternative was to spread his notebooks and textbooks on the counter and entertain himself by studying.

His grades had been getting better, but he would still prefer to get decent nights of sleep.

Wooyoung sighed, his elbow resting on the counter, head held up by his hand. The words were starting to blur together and, every other minute, he would glance at the clock on the wall, willing the hands to move faster so 4am would come quicker.

He still wasn’t sure why his boss insisted on keeping the coffee shop open at night, it wasn’t as if the profit they made was substantial and they spent more on paying Wooyoung for his shift than they earned. But, he wasn’t a business student and he wouldn’t pretend to understand what went through the owner’s head.

He wasn’t paid to think about business. He was paid to sit in an empty coffee shop for four hours and to study, apparently.

He sighed as the clock didn’t seem to move faster and let his head fall to the textbook in front of him, not even the music that was playing softly through the speakers connected to his phone was doing anything to keep his eyes open this time.

He didn’t fall asleep, the uncomfortable position, the harsh lights above him and the knowledge that he was at work not allowing him to, but he thought longingly about his comfortable bed in his warm dorm room and wished he was there right now.

If only college wasn’t expensive and he was rich.

He watched as the hands on the clock moved slowly, the songs transitioning from one to the other without him even processing what was playing, no one coming into the coffee shop and no words from his textbook being processed by his brain. His eyes threatened to close at any second and Wooyoung almost convinced himself to get a cup of coffee, even though there were only 20 minutes left until he could go home and caffeine would only give him a headache.

When the clock finally hit 3:50, Wooyoung got up from his seat and sluggishly moved through the coffee shop, wiping at the already clean tables and arranging the chairs in their proper place. It was a tedious routine, but at least he was moving, at least it was more than sitting behind the counter and staring at the unmoving front door.

He hummed the song playing to himself as he locked the door and quickly swept the floors before closing the register. He gathered his things that were at the counter and turned off the lights before moving to the room at the back where his things were.

Wooyoung stretched his arms above his head, eager to get rid of the discomfort in his muscles, and changed out of his work clothes and into his regular, comfortable sweatpants and hoodie, placing a beanie on top of his head to prevent his ears from freezing with the cold outside.

Once he was bundled up inside his warm jacket and had his backpack on his shoulders, he grabbed his phone and typed out a quick text to make sure San was ready too and left the coffee shop through the backdoor.

The air outside was cold, the winter night not taking pity on him, the frigid wind quickly cooling his nose and making his eyes water.

Wooyoung squinted at the other side of the street, noticing that the lights were already off on the other coffee shop and smiling to himself as he saw the car parked in front of it with the lights on.

He crossed the road quickly, hurrying to the passenger side and opening the door in less than a minute, the cold that was starting to seep into his skin making sure that he moved fast.

“It’s so cold tonight,” he said as soon as he sat down and closed the door behind him.

He sighed as the air conditioning hit his cold face and started warming him up and only then he turned to look at the driver’s side.

“Hi,” he greeted with a smile.

San chuckled as he turned the key in the ignition.

“How was your shift?” He asked, although he already knew the answer because Wooyoung gave him the same reply every night and because San’s night had most likely been the same as his.

There wasn't much space for excitement in a night shift at a coffee shop.

“Boring.”

“Mine too,” San agreed, reversing his car out of the parking lot.

He was wearing a beanie too, black over his blonde hair, and the only thing Wooyoung could tell about his clothes under the shadow of the night was that they were dark. He was drumming his fingers against the wheel as he drove, expression focused with his eyes on the road and Wooyoung let himself rest his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes.

“Tired?”

San’s voice was soft, hardly breaking the quiet that had settled in the car, and Wooyoung mumbled a barely perceptible ‘yes’, letting the silence wash over him in a comforting lull.

They’d had this routine for months now, ever since Wooyoung had started working the night shift and San had seen him making his way home by foot in the dark. 

Back then, he had stopped his car next to Wooyoung, introduced himself as the person who worked the night shift at the coffee shop across the street and asked Wooyoung if he needed a ride home.

It occurred to Wooyoung now that maybe he should have been more reluctant to get in a car with a stranger at 4am, but San had a kind smile and pretty dimples and his eyes looked concerned at the thought of Wooyoung walking alone and he really didn’t want to walk all the way to his dorm, so he had accepted easily.

After the first night, they had struck an agreement. San would drive him to his dorm after their shifts were over and Wooyoung would pay him a small amount at the end of every month to cover gas expenses.

It was a nice arrangement, one that ensured Wooyoung didn’t have to walk home cold and alone. He could only be grateful that the person who had the same misfortune of working at the same late hour as he did was kind enough to propose it.

“I wish our bosses would just understand these shifts aren’t necessary and would let us work at decent hours,” Wooyoung said, his eyes still closed.

“That would be nice,” San said. “But they might fire us if they don’t need anyone for this hour.”

“Damn,” Wooyoung grumbled, annoyed. “You’re right.”

San laughed, too loud for the quiet night, and Wooyoung smiled to himself. He always felt accomplished when he elicited that reaction from anyone. San’s laugh was pretty in Wooyoung’s ear and he would have happily fallen asleep to the sound of it if the car hadn’t come to a halt.

“We’re here,” San said, turning off the car and letting complete silence envelop them.

Wooyoung groaned as he sat up, his bones popping from having stayed in an uncomfortable position for too long.

“Thank you for driving me,” he said, the same thing he said every night, and flashed San a tired smile.

“No problem,” San grinned.

They got out of the car, shivering in the cold wind and hugging their coats close to their bodies and then they waved goodbye to each other and split into different directions to their dorm buildings.

Wooyoung could only think about his warm bed and how much he needed sleep.

***

Wooyoung leaned heavily against the wall, a cup of something alcoholic that Hongjoong had brought him in hand as he watched people gather on the couches, talking to friends and strangers alike.

On the other side of the room, Yunho was attempting to pull Hongjoong into the makeshift dance floor, a bright grin on his face as Hongjoong’s scowl deepened with each pull at his wrist.

It had been Yunho’s idea to come to the party, an invitation from one of his friends, and Wooyoung had readily agreed under the condition that Yunho would help him get Hongjoong out of his dorm for the night.

It hadn’t been easy. Hongjoong had been adamant about having to finish an essay tonight even though the deadline was days away and it had taken the combined effort of Wooyoung’s and Yunho’s persistence to drag him to the party.

But in the end, they made it.

Wooyoung had been dancing for the better part of the night, switching between pulling an annoyed Hongjoong with him and happily dancing with a willing Yunho. It had been a good night, with no work, alcohol and his friends and no worries in his mind.

It wasn’t often that he had time to indulge and spend a night out, so he had embraced the opportunity with both of his arms and didn’t let it go.

He laughed to himself as Yunho finally managed to get Hongjoong to dance, the two of them moving to a rhythm that didn’t match the song playing from the speakers but that seemed to make sense and be working for the two of them.

Wooyoung looked away from them and down at his cup, he was almost done with his drink. He would join them again once his cup was empty.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Wooyoung was startled as a voice sounded so close to him, not having noticed that someone had approached.

He turned his head to the right, to take a look at the newcomer, and he felt his sped-up heart calm down slightly when he saw it was just San.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Wooyoung said, a hand on his chest to dramatize the effect of the scare. “And I’m not alone, my friends are over there.” He nudged his chin in their direction.

San nodded, following the line of Wooyoung’s sight to where Hongjoong was twirling Yunho around.

“Did you have the night off, too?” San asked.

Wooyoung nodded.

“Thankfully,” he said, shoulders slouched showing just how tired he was.

San laughed.

“I needed a night off too.”

It was strange, talking to San outside of their shared car rides at 4am. They went to the same university, their dorms weren’t far from each other, and yet they didn’t see each other much and they talked even less. So, being at a party and talking to San was far from usual but Wooyoung would never say no to a conversation with San.

“Did you come alone?” He asked.

“No.” San shook his head. “My friend knows the person who threw the party and brought me along.”

Wooyoung nodded.

“Have you gotten something to drink yet?”

“No, we just arrived.”

“And you came to talk to me instead of getting a drink? I’m flattered,” Wooyoung joked, batting his eyelashes.

San rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face that showed his amusement.

“Talking to you is more interesting than getting a drink, yes,” he said, his voice genuine despite the light tone of the conversation.

“Oh,” Wooyoung said, not having expected the honesty.

“What?” San chuckled. “Did you think I didn’t enjoy talking to you?”

Wooyoung shrugged.

“It’s not that I thought that,” he said. “But it’s always nice to know that people enjoy your company. And we don’t really talk outside of you giving me car rides.”

San hummed, leaning with his shoulder on the wall next to Wooyoung, seemingly thinking of what he had said.

“Maybe it’s time we changed that and talked more.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at him, curious about the suggestion yet happy about it.

“I’d like that,” he said, smiling at San. “With one condition.”

“What condition?”

“We don’t talk about work.”

San’s laugh was loud enough to be heard over the music and Wooyoung felt himself grin at how easy San was to amuse.

“Okay,” San said. “I can agree with that.”

“First order of business as my friend outside of convenient car rides is getting you something to drink.”

Wooyoung grabbed San by the wrist, pulling him along to the kitchen where all the bottles were waiting for them. With a grand gesture, he pointed at all the options as if he had been the one to buy them and put them on display and waited as San picked what to drink.

“Tough choices,” he teased when San bent his head to inspect the label of every bottle.

“Gotta make sure the first drink as your official friend is a good one.” San looked over his shoulder to wink at him.

Wooyoung hummed, leaning back against the counter and taking a sip of his own drink as he watched San finally pick up a bottle and pour the liquid into an empty cup.

He could get used to being friends with San and talking to him on a more regular basis. They always got along so well in the limited time they spent together, so he was confident that things could only go well.

San grimaced as he took a sip of the drink he had finished concocting, the tip of his tongue slipping past his lips as if he wanted to get rid of the taste. He pouted as he looked down at the cup in his hands and Woyooung laughed loudly.

“Everything okay?” Wooyoung asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Perfect,” San said, but the pout was still on his lips. “Do you want to try it?” He presented the cup to Wooyoung.

“No, thank you,” Wooyoung grinned. “You should enjoy your drink.”

“But I want to share it with my new friend.”

“There’s really no need, your new friend is already served.” Wooyoung waved his cup at him. “Do you want to try it?”

San seemed to consider the offer and then nodded, unceremoniously pouring the drink he had made down the drain and turning back to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung stretched his arm in San’s direction, waiting for San to take the cup and hear his thoughts about the drink he hadn’t even made himself.

San seemed to have a different idea though, for, instead of taking the cup from Wooyoung’s hand as he had thought he would, San leaned his head down and placed his lips directly on the rim of the cup, looking up at Wooyoung from beneath his lashes, silently asking for him to pour the drink into his mouth.

Wooyoung gulped, not having expected that, not having anticipated the sharp eyes on his or the intensity behind them. San’s warm breath on his fingers where they were holding up the cup made him almost shiver.

But Wooyoung didn’t back down. He tilted the cup up, the liquid falling into San’s waiting mouth, their eye contact never breaking.

“It’s actually good,” San said, surprise clear in his voice.

He was still looking at Wooyung through his lashes, his tongue darting out to lick his lips clean of any droplet left behind by the drink.

It was madness, the way he was looking at Wooyoung, the way he was standing, the way he seemed to have sucked in all the air in the kitchen until Wooyoung was left breathless and gasping.

“Are you that surprised?” Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, trying to take control of the situation again and pretend as if he weren’t affected by everything San had done.

San finally straightened up, rolling his shoulders back, picture-perfect composure all around. He didn’t seem to be troubled by how close to Wooyoung he had been, nothing to show that he had even noticed the way he had been staring up at him. Maybe he hadn’t noticed, maybe Wooyoung was just seeing things where there was nothing, reading too much into what was a simple look with no meaning.

Wooyoung took a breath and then a sip from his drink and willed himself to retake control over his heart where it was drumming quickly inside his chest.

“A little,” San grinned.

Wooyoung was about to reply, ready to go back to their easy conversation now that he had gathered himself, but the sound of knocking on the door brought him back into the kitchen and into the party they were at.

Though, he was not ready to see the person standing at the door.

He tensed up as his eyes fell on the face he hadn’t seen in a while, the eyes that used to be familiar and that used to look at him with warmth, but that now were stained with smugness as they stared at Wooyoung.

“Hello, Wooyoung,” he smiled as if just the sight of him didn’t make Wooyung’s skin crawl.

He still looked the same as he always had. Tall and strong with tousled hair and a handsome face. His smile was confident and the look in his eyes was still the same sultry one that had pulled Wooyoung into his orbit months ago.

“Daewon,” Wooyoung said, trying his best to place a neutral look on his face.

“It’s been a while,” Daewon said.

“Not long enough.”

Wooyoung smiled sarcastically at him, not amused by the attempts at casual conversation. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Daewon anymore, not even a conversation. The only thing he wanted from him was as much distance as possible.

He averted his eyes from Daewon, his gaze falling to San’s confused face instead.

San was looking between him and Daewon with his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on and what was the deal with Wooyoung and Daewon. Wooyoung wanted to get him away from the situation too.

“Come on,” Daewon said, stepping into the kitchen and walking closer. “Don’t be like that.”

“What do you want, Daewon?” Wooyoung asked, wanting the conversation to be over as soon as possible.

“I just want to talk to you, know how you’ve been.

“I’ve been good, you can go now.”

“Don’t be so hostile. I miss you.”

Wooyoung wanted to laugh.

“I don’t care.”

He stepped away from the counter and grabbed San’s wrist, planning to leave the kitchen as soon as possible and never look at Daewon’s face again.

It seemed to be the wrong move though because, as soon as Wooyoung grabbed San, Daewon’s focus seemed to shift and he stopped caring about maintaining the pretence of kindness and genuine interest he had attempted to put on.

“Is he why you won’t talk to me?”

Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, his muscles tensing up even more. He had not wanted this to be the outcome, he hadn’t planned on getting San involved in Daewon’s manipulative games.

“No. I won’t talk to you because you’re an asshole who I don’t want to waste my time with you ever again.”

Instead of answering, Daewon’s eyes shifted to San, looking at him up and down as if he was measuring him up.

Wooyoung glared at him.

“Stop looking at him.” He took a small step in front of San, not because he thought Daewon would do anything, he was too cowardly to, but because the thought of someone like Daewon even sparing a glance at someone as nice as San made him want to scream.

“So you’ve moved on already,” Daewon said, a statement rather than a question.

Wooyoung’s patience wore thin and his grip on San’s wrist tightened without him even noticing.

“At least I waited until I wasn’t in a relationship to move on.”

Without saying anything else, Wooyoung made his way out of the kitchen, making sure not to let go of San’s wrist and to be far enough from Daewon that they wouldn’t even brush shoulders. He pulled San back into the living room and didn’t look back.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said when they managed to find a place to sit on one of the couches.

“Don’t apologize.” San shook his head. “Was he an ex?”

Wooyoung had expected the question. It would have been weird if San didn’t have questions and the least Wooyoung could do after San had been caught in the middle was explain what had happened to him.

“Yes. My asshole ex.”

San hummed, tilting his head as he looked at Wooyoung as if trying to read between the lines of his face to figure out what the story behind the hostility was.

“Did he cheat on you?” San asked, his voice gentle but not shying away from the words.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung said.

“Asshole,” San said, glaring in the direction of the kitchen.

Wooyoung chuckled.

“You don’t need to get worked up over it,” he grinned. “I’m over it now, I just don’t like seeing him and his smug face.”

“That’s understandable.” San nodded. “Did he think we were together?”

“Probably.” Wooyoung nodded.

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Sorry.” Wooyoung winced. “I didn’t want to drag you into anything, I just wanted the conversation to end and for him to leave me alone.”

“It’s fine. If it gets him off your back I don’t mind.”

“How kind,” Wooyoung joked but he hoped San could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Do you think he believed it?” San asked after a brief pause.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s not like I fully confirmed it or anything, I just didn’t deny his assumptions.”

San hummed, seemingly deep in thought. 

On the other side of the room, Daewon left the kitchen, his gaze falling on them quicker than Woooung wanted it to.

San seemed to notice him too.

“Would it help the situation if he thought we were actually together?” He asked.

“I don’t know. It might make him back off and stop annoying me or it might make him more unbearable.”

San bit his lip, gaze moving from Wooyoung to Daewon and to Wooyoung again.

“Would you like to pretend we’re dating? See how it goes? Just for tonight.”

Wooyoung blinked at him, surprised at the suggestion. He wasn’t expecting San to want to indulge in something Wooyoung didn’t even plan.

“We really don’t need to, it’s okay,” he assured.

“It’s no trouble,” San smiled at him. “Plus, he’s still looking at you.”

Wooyoung didn’t look in the direction where Daewon had been, not wanting to alert him that he was paying attention, but he believed San’s words. His shoulders tensed up, neck prickling with the thought of someone like Daewon, who he wanted as far from him as possible, observing him.

“Would you really do it?” He asked because San was looking at him in such an openly earnest way and because he really did want Daewon to stop looking at him, not only tonight but forever.

“Of course, it would be no problem at all.”

Wooyong nodded, unsure of how they would even go about pretending they were dating for the sake of fooling someone. But San seemed to be more prepared than him and, before Wooyoung could even finish processing the situation, he put an arm around his shoulders, gently pulling him to his body and Wooyoung went willingly, no cell in his body wanting to fight it.

“Relax,” San said near his ear, leaning his head into Wooyoung’s. “Just be natural.”

Wooyoung thought that it was easy to say ‘act natural’ but that ‘acting natural’ was a challenge he wasn’t sure how to overcome.

He had never been this close to San before, they hadn’t ever really touched each other at all past a small brush of their arms when they were both struggling to put their coats on in the cramped space inside San’s car. Being so close to him now, pressed against his side with San’s arms around him and his hair tickling his face was strange though also pleasant and warm.

“Do you think this is enough for him to believe us?” San asked.

Wooyoung bit his lip. He knew the answer, but it wasn’t the ideal one.

Daewon knew him too well to believe that Wooyoung was dating someone just because they were leaning into each other or hugging. Wooyoung had always been a touchy person, giving out physical affection without hesitation, he did it with all of his friends, so being physically close wasn’t enough for him to believe that Wooyoung was dating them.

He tilted his head up to look at San, his kind eyes and the dip of concern between his eyebrows as he stared back at Wooyoung. 

It had been so easy for San to fall into the role, to embrace Wooyoung and pull him closer, to lean against him and warm his body.

Selfishly, Wooyoung wanted to know what more San had under his sleeve, what pretending to date him would bring into the mix if it had to be more than a hug.

“Maybe not,” he finally said. “I’m usually very affectionate with all my friends, he might not think much of it.”

“Should we do something more?” San asked.

“What more?”

San’s eyes didn’t leave his and at first, Wooyoung thought that he was considering the possibilities, though he quickly understood that San was actually looking for a sign to say what he had in mind.

Whatever he found within Wooyoung’s expression seemed to do the trick.

“What if I kissed you?”

Wooyoung gulped, his breath hitching, eyes inevitably falling to San’s lips, pink and parted and inviting.

“You don’t have to kiss me for something like this. We can just stop, really,” he assured. “I don’t think he’ll bother us any more tonight.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I weren’t fine with it, Wooyoung. I want to help.”

Wooyoung looked at San’s lips again, not even caring about how obvious he was being, they were still inviting and San licked them, wetting his bottom lip and making Woyoung’s restraints fall apart.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “If you’re sure.”

San nodded, one of his hands coming up to touch the edge of Wooyoung’s jaw.

“Are you sure?”

Wooyoung took a deep breath, centering himself. No, he wasn’t sure, but he wanted it. He wanted to kiss San, both to dissuade Daewon from approaching them again, and because he wanted to taste their pink colour.

“Yes.”

It was all the permission San needed. 

Slowly, giving both of them enough time to pull back and stop things from happening while they still could, San leaned into his space, trustworthy eyes and a kind smile ever present on his face.

Wooyoung breathed in, looked at San again and let himself close his eyes, one last reassurance of permission before San descended upon him and their lips touched.

Even though he had been expecting it, the pressure still surprised Wooyoung. Different, not the way he was expecting to spend his night, but decidedly not unpleasant.

San’s lips were soft and slow as they moved over his, almost tentative as they explored, one of his hands cradled the side of Wooyoung’s neck, his thumb lifting his chin to make the angle better, easier.

“Okay?” San asked against his lips as they parted for a second.

He didn’t look away from Wooyoung’s eyes, not breaking their eye contact as he made sure Wooyoung didn’t regret anything.

“Yes,” Wooyung reassured, his voice softer than he had expected it to be.

“Can I kiss you again?”

The words had barely left San’s lips and Wooyoung was already nodding, his lips parting in anticipation of the kiss that was coming his way. 

In the back of his mind, he knew they were only putting on a show, pretending, kissing as an act to fool Daewon, but those thoughts faded like the alcohol on their tongues with each brush of San’s lips over his.

It didn’t matter why they had started kissing, it only mattered that they were kissing now.

Every kiss was sweet and chaste, wet lips mapping out and feeling, San’s hands on his neck and his cheek, his own fisting the front of San’s shirt to ensure he wouldn’t fall over under the weight of all the emotions inside him.

“Do you think we convinced him?” San asked.

Woyoung gulped, licking his lips and feeling the phantom touch of San’s kiss. He wanted to say no, tell San that it wasn’t enough and that they needed to do more if they wanted to be convincing, but that would be a lie.

“Maybe,” he settled for the middle ground, not a full lie, but not entirely truthful.

“Should we do more?” San asked and Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t even bother looking away from Wooyoung to spare a glance in Daewon’s direction.

Not that Wooyoung cared, not that he bothered looking either.

He nodded.

San didn’t question it, didn’t even say anything, just leaned in again, his breath warm against Wooyung’s lips before they were kissing again.

Though this time, all the chasteness seeped out and in its place appeared a hunger that Wooyoung hadn't expected, that punched a surprised little noise out of his throat and made him clutch San’s shoulders.

The tip of San’s tongue grazed his bottom lip and Wooyoung clenched his eyes shut tight, breathless at the motion.

“You were right,” he said when their lips separated. “Your drink tasted horrible,” he joked, his tongue licking his lips to chase the taste.

No matter how horrible the taste was, it came from San’s kiss and Wooyoung didn’t think he was in full control of his thoughts and feelings about it right now, rationality having to step down from his mind to give space to all the rushing thoughts of their kisses.

San laughed and then leaned back, pulling Wooyoung against his side but giving no indication that they would kiss again.

Wooyoung tried to stomp on his sudden disappointment.

He scanned the room to distract himself, finding Yunho and Hongjoong staring at him with raised brows and Daewon nowhere in sight. He ignored his friends and turned back to San.

“We succeeded. He’s not here anymore,” he said.

San hummed in acknowledgement but, once again, didn’t bother looking away from Wooyoung.

“Good thing then,” he said, but instead of releasing his hold on Wooyoung’s shoulders he hugged him even closer.

It was doing things to Wooyoung’s heart, making it beat faster than it had any business beating.

“I guess I owe you one.”

“You really don’t.” San shook his head.

“I’m serious, you do a lot for me. If you ever need anything, just ask away.”

San chuckled, his hand squeezing Wooyoung’s shoulder, once, twice, and tilted his head to gently knock it against Wooyoung’s.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

It was one week after the party and Wooyoung still couldn’t forget about San’s kiss. He found himself thinking about it randomly through the days as if it had meant something, as if it had been more than an act.

He knew that the only reason anything had even happened was that San wanted to do something nice for him and help him get Daewon and his smug face off his back, nothing more than that. And yet Wooyoung still thought of his soft lips and his careful hands and kind expression.

And, shamefully, he wanted more of it.

He had seen San almost every night after the party. They had easily gone back to their routine of late shifts and car rides and neither of them had even as much as mentioned the party or Daewon or the kisses. It was as if it had never happened or as if it had been so unimportant it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Maybe that’s how San saw it and how Wooyoung should feel about it too.

He robotically prepared a coffee for the man in a fancy suit waiting on the other side of the counter, his head not only miles away but days away, back on that couch with San’s lips on his.

He shook himself out of it when he turned around and was faced with the man’s impatient expression, putting on his best customer-friendly smile and placing the drink on the counter and quickly ratling out the price.

It was close to 1am, but enough people were still inside the coffee shop that Wooyoung didn’t feel like he was in danger of boredom lulling him to sleep any time soon. 

The customers at the tables were all young, college students with laptops, textbooks and notebooks open in front of them, chewing on their pens as they thought and tapping their feet against the floor nervously. Finals were fast approaching, so it was normal for the coffee shop to be more busy than usual.

The businessman he had served before was the only customer who looked older than a college student the entire night.

Yunho and Hongjoong were there too, had been almost since his shift started and Wooyoung knew that the main reason they had come was to keep him company rather than to study. They had their notes and laptops open in front of them and Hongjoong had already called him to ask for a second cup of black coffee. Wooyoung would be concerned for his health and decisions, but he had learned that it would do nothing to tell Hongjoong he should slow down with the caffeine.

He spared a quick glance out the window as he walked to their table, coffee cup in hand, at the other side of the street where he could see San also bustling between the tables. It seemed finals were good for business over there too. Wooyoung wondered how long he would have to look out the window for San to meet his eyes. 

He averted his gaze quickly at the thought, going back to work, there was no reason for San to seek him out.

“You keep looking out the window,” Yunho commented when Wooyoung placed a cup of hot coffee on the table he was sharing with Hongjoong.

Despite Hongjoong’s concerning caffeine consumption, Wooyoung had been happy and thankful for their familiar presence and for the company. Or he had been until Yunho decided that they should talk about what Wooyoung didn’t want to acknowledge and Hongjoong looked at him with raised eyebrows that showed Wooyoung he wouldn’t be getting out of the conversation, no matter how much he wanted to.

“It’s a nice night,” he said, despite knowing that it would never be something that convinced them.

“It’s cold and dark.” Hongjoong looked at him over the cup he was sipping his coffee from.

“Which can be nice and beautiful.”

“Quit stalling. We know you’re looking at the guy who works there.”

“San,” Yunho provided, receiving a glare from Wooyoung that he promptly ignored.

“San,” Hongjoong repeated, the name seemingly giving him more power. “Why are you looking at him so much?”

“I’m not looking at him.”

“Come on, Woo,” Yunho said. “We know you are and we saw you both at the party.”

“What happened at the party didn’t mean anything,” he said, trying to convince them and himself.

“Didn’t mean anything?” Yunho asked.

“It was acting.” Wooyoung shrugged. “Daewon was there and San was just helping me get him off my case.”

“By making out with you?”

“It worked.”

“It didn’t seem like acting if I’m honest,” Yunho said gently as if he knew that Wooyoung’s feelings were running deeper than that. He probably did. “You were both pretty into it.”

“We’re just really good actors.”

“You can’t even convince yourself of that,” Hongjoong said.

“Okay.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “So maybe I liked it a little too much and wouldn’t be opposed to kissing him again. But he was just being nice, nothing more, and I can live with that and respect it.”

Both Yunho and Hongjoong seemed doubtful but, thankfully, they didn’t press him for more details.

“Are you okay though?” Hongjoong asked, more serious now. “After seeing Daewon.”

“Yes.” Wooyoung nodded. “I was just annoyed because he was still the same smug asshole as he has always been, but I’m fine. I’m over it all now.”

“That’s good.”

Wooyoung wanted to spend the night sitting with them and talking, it was better than work, but sadly he couldn’t do it and, just when he was getting ready to launch into some other different topic, he was being called to another table.

“Duty calls,” he said, grinning at his friends before turning around to do his job.

He busied himself with answering calls from the tables, bringing them the food and all the caffeine they wanted or needed. As tired as he was, he preferred busy nights to the tedious ones when he didn’t have anything to do but stare at the walls or study.

Hongjoong and Yunho left not too long after their conversation, over an hour before Wooyoung could finish his shift, but still, the rest of the night wasn’t too bad.

Nights like these passed by much faster and, before Wooyoung even knew it, he was locking the front door behind the last customer and quickly cleaning the tables and swiping the floor before closing the register and going to the backroom to get ready to leave.

There was already a text from San on his phone saying that he was waiting outside and Wooyoung got dressed quickly and left the coffee shop behind.

San’s car was warm as it always was, quickly heating up Wooyoung’s body and making him sigh. San smiled at him softly from the driver’s seat as he always did and, as it had done for the past week, it made Wooyoung’s heart squeeze.

“Did you have a busy night too?” San asked as he started the car.

Wooyoung piled up all his feelings and hid them in a neat corner of his heart, away from the front, away from a place where they would spill out all over San’s car. There was no space for them here.

“Yes, everyone was studying for finals.”

“For me too.”

“We should be studying for our finals too,” Wooyoung said, leaning his head back against his seat and turning his head slightly to stare at San.

“We don’t have the privilege of not having to work for tuition.” San flashed a quick amused look before turning back to the road.

“It sucks.”

There was a lull in the conversation, the soft music coming from the radio the only sound in the night.

“Wooyoung,” San called.

His fingers were drumming against the wheel and he seemed weirdly nervous.

Wooyung furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at him, wondering what he could have to say that would make him look that anxious.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

“Yes, I just wanted to ask you something.”

Wooyoung nodded, still unsure of why San would look so weary, heart beating faster at the possibilities.

“Do you remember last week?” he started and Wooyoung wanted to throw himself out of the car.

Of course, he remembered last week. He had done nothing but remember last week for days.

Instead of saying that, he nodded, equal parts curious and scared to know where San was going with the conversation.

“You said you owed me one and I have a favour to ask you.”

Wooyoung exhaled, relieved that it was about that and not about the feelings that were brewing in his heart and that he had been trying very hard to keep away from San’s eyes.

“Of course, what do you need,” he said.

“I’m taking a photography class as an elective,” San explained. “And I kinda need a model for my final project?”

“Is that a question?” Wooyoung teased, hoping to ease the tension that was still weighing down San’s shoulders.

“Yes. I mean no, not that. The question is if you would be my model?”

Wooyoung bit his lip. There was no way he could refuse to help San, someone who had helped him many times before from driving him home to pushing away Daewon, but a part of him wondered if it was smart to spend more time with San, to model for him, when he could barely keep control of his feelings as it were and his mind kept drifting to the time they had spent kissing.

“You want me to model for you? Do you think I’m that attractive?” He asked, teasing San and torturing himself in the process.

He thought he saw a small blush build up in San’s cheeks, but the night was too dark to tell for sure.

“Yes,” San said and then spared Wooyoung a fleeting look before adding. “To both.”

Wooyoung felt his heart beating in his throat, his fingers gripped the material of his jeans so he wouldn’t do or say anything stupid and forcefully swallowed his feelings again.

“I've never modelled before,” he said.

“That’s okay,” San reassured. “I’m hardly a professional photographer myself.”

Wooyoung still thought it was probably a bad idea to spend time with San, modelling of all things. He wasn’t sure if it could ever end well, but the alternative was telling San ‘no’ and disappointing him seemed like an even worse reality.

“Okay,” he accepted. “I’ll help you. Just tell me when and where.”

“Thank you,” San smiled at him again and Wooyoung wanted to kiss his dimples.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

But inside he was wondering how much trouble he was getting his heart into.

***

They met up in a park near the coffee shops where they worked. It was a familiar place although being there with San felt unfamiliar.

The sun was bright and the afternoon was surprisingly warm for a winter day and San had been gushing about it, stating how nice it would be for the pictures he wanted to take.

“The theme for the project is light,” San explained. “A day like today is perfect for that.”

Wooyoung nodded at his words, smiling at the happy grin on San’s face. It was nice to see him smiling like that, the sunlight reflecting on his eyes and making them shine. He wished he was brave enough to open his mouth and tell San how beautiful he looked. But he wasn’t brave enough, so he swallowed the words and instead asked San for more details on the project.

“I’m thinking sun and green grass, it would be nice to have some flowers but I don’t know if we’ll find any at this time of the year.”

“Are we only going to shoot here?”

San shook his head.

“Would you mind going to my dorm after?” He asked. “I wanted to try out different lights, I was thinking of candles and lamps and flashlights.”

He seemed a little hesitant as if there was any reason why Wooyoung would refuse him and he wanted that doubt gone. He wanted San to know that he felt comfortable with him, that although they had never talked outside of their car rides, he wouldn’t be opposed to changing that, on the contrary, he would love to get to know San better, to be closer to him.

“Of course, I’ll go,” he smiled, quickly throwing his arm over San’s shoulders before he could talk himself out of it. “I said I would help, here or in your dorm it’s the same to me.”

San’s thankful smile was big and pretty when he turned to look at Wooyoung and he tried not to let it worm its way to his heart.

“Thank you,” San said, even though he didn’t need to. “What if we started here?”

They were surrounded by trees and, with a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder, San stirred him in the direction of one of them.

“Can you sit with your back to the trunk?”

“I can do whatever you need me to do,” he said and prayed San couldn’t tell just how true the words were.

When Wooyoung accepted modelling for San’s project, he had been worried, both because he was scared of how his heart would try to trip over itself once he was alone with San in the daylight, and because he had never modelled before, he wasn’t sure how to do it or what was expected of him. 

San had reassured him multiple times that he would be fine, it would be laid back just the two of them, no pressure whatsoever and they could redo the pictures as many times as they wanted.

It had erased Wooyoung’s worries slightly, but not enough to get rid of his anxiety over it completely. He wanted to look good so that San’s pictures would come out okay and, stupidly, because he wanted San to think he looked pretty.

But San had been right.

Letting him direct Wooyoung and move him around was easy. They fell into their roles with ease and it was almost natural to wipe his mind and let nothing but San’s voice be heard, allowing his body to relax and pose without worries or insecurities.

The sun was warm on Wooyoung’s skin and the weight of San’s eyes on him felt heavy and light at the same time. Heavy because being looked at by someone like San, someone he couldn’t deny being attracted to, made Wooyoung’s nerves flare up, but so light because San was nice and sweet and he had such a calming presence that Wooyoung couldn't be anything but relaxed.

Time passed fast, the sun moving quickly through the sky and Wooyoung hoped that San was able to capture all the angles he wanted and that the pictures looked good enough for his project.

Once the sun was about to set and they were done at the park, San put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulders as he guided him in the direction of his car, an unspoken agreement that he would be driving them back to the dorms.

He looked relaxed and happy and Wooyoung figured that the pictures were probably coming along well enough for him not to worry.

“Do you have candles at your dorm?” Wooyoung asked.

“My roommate has scented ones, we can use them.”

“He won’t mind?”

“He’ll just be thankful that I lit them up for once. He always scrunches up his nose every time I spend the day at the dorm and he’s not there to light them himself.”

Wooyoung snorted.

“Do you stink up your place, San?”

San rolled his eyes but he was laughing as he took a hand off the wheel to slap Wooyoung’s thigh lightly.

“Seonghwa just likes vanilla more than he likes me.”

Wooyoung giggled at the fake whine in San’s voice.

“Will he be there?” Wooyoung asked.

“No.” San shook his head. “He has classes today.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung sighed. “We could have bonded over liking vanilla more than you.”

“Shut up,” San laughed.

It didn’t take long to get to the dorms and Wooyoung followed San across campus to his dorm room, noticing that it was the furthest away from Wooyoung’s.

Every night when San would drive them from work, San would always park close to Wooyoung’s building and Wooyoung never saw him get to his building, never paid attention. He hadn’t known that San still had a little to walk between the two buildings. It wasn’t much, but enough to be annoying when the trek had to be made at 4am after a shift.

“You don’t have to always park near my building,” he said. “I didn’t know you were on the other side of campus from me.”

There was pink on San’s cheeks and his eyes were wide when he turned his head sharply to look at him. 

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed in confusion as he stared back because there was no reason for San to look like that. San seemed almost startled as he looked at Wooyoung as if he had discovered a big secret rather than simply the location of his dorm.

“I don’t mind the walk,” San finally said. “It’s okay.”

Wooyoung wasn’t entirely sure if he believed him but it didn’t seem like San wanted to talk about it anymore and he didn’t want to dig. For all he knew, San was telling the truth and he liked to take a little walk at 4am in the cold of winter.

“Come in,” San said once he opened the door.

San’s dorm was similar to Wooyoung’s, the same slightly cramped space with two beds and two desks, though it was neater and more organized than Wooyoung’s, despite his and Yunho’s best efforts to keep it decently clean.

San dropped the backpack where he carried his camera and notes on one of the beds and quickly moved to close the blinds, bathing the room in darkness until he flipped a switch to turn on the ceiling light.

Wooyoung walked into the room, taking off his shoes by the door and dropping his jacket on one of the desk chairs.

San went straight to business, moving things out of the way until a corner of the room was bare.

“Okay,” San said, looking around the room with a calculating gaze. “We can start with the lamp, I suppose.”

He unplugged the lamp that was on one of the desks and motioned for Wooyoung to sit on the floor while he turned off the ceiling light.

“It’s just like in the park,” San said after setting the lamp where he wanted it. “Just be comfortable and I’ll worry about the rest.”

He messed around with his camera for a second before he kneeled in front of Wooyoung, the camera in front of his face as he captured the way the light hit him and created shadows on his face and around him.

“It’s so easy to take pictures of you,” San said once they were done with the set of pictures in the lamplight.

“Is it?”

“Yes.” San looked at him over the camera, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re very pretty.”

“Shut up,” Wooyoung grumbled but he knew his face was blushing.

San laughed as he put away the lamp and Wooyoung watched him from his place on the floor, crossed legs and back against the wall, his eyes not straying from San’s broad shoulders as he moved around the room.

“Should we do the flashlight now?”

“You’re the professional.” Wooyoung shrugged.

San snorted, amused. “Hardly professional,” he said, but turned on the flashlight on his phone and propped it up against some books so it pointed at Wooyoung at the right angle.

“Let’s do this.” He grinned.

The flashlight was bright against Wooyoung’s eyes and he closed them tightly for a second to get used to it.

“Sorry,” San said, shifting the light away from his eyes.

Once the light was set up in a way that didn’t disturb Wooyoung’s eyes, San went back to looking at him through the lenses of his camera.

The flashlight felt hot against Wooyoung’s skin, making him sweat, and he was starting to get tired from posing and changing positions, but he would persevere. This was a favour he was doing for San and he wouldn’t dare complain about his tired arms and aching back.

“You look tired,” San commented anyway despite Wooyoung’s best efforts not to show it.

“Just a little,” he confessed. “But don’t worry, we can keep going.”

San nodded and lowered the camera from his face, giving Wooyoung a small smile as he turned off the flashlight.

“Are you sure? We only have one set left, we can pause for a little.”

It was tempting, but Wooyoung knew that it would be better if they got it over with now that they were already so deep into it and rested after it was done.

“As you said, it’s only one set, let’s finish it and then get something for dinner.”

“Okay,” San agreed. “My treat. A thank you for the help.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“I thought I was helping as a favour after last week, if you thank me with dinner then I’ll be the one owing you again.”

San grinned.

“Maybe it’s all part of my master plan to spend more time with you.”

He seemed to be teasing, but there was something about his voice and expression that betrayed an honesty that Wooyoung hadn’t expected.

“Oh,” he said, dumbly. “In that case, I agree to dinner.”

San looked relieved at his words and Wooyoung was starting to think that he would have to tell him, upfront and honestly and with a bravery that he didn’t possess, that he wanted to spend time with him and get to know him and that he liked him. There was no reason for San to be afraid of Wooyoung refusing him anything, much less something as simple as hanging out with each other. Not when that’s what Wooyoung wanted more than anything.

On the other side of the room, at his roommate’s desk, San lighted up a scented candle.

“You can stand up,” San said, approaching slowly as if afraid he would trip and let the candle fall. “I want you standing up for this set of pictures.”

Wooyoung nodded, doing as he was told, and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as he watched San come to a stop in front of him, his camera dangling from his neck, the scent of vanilla quickly reaching Wooyoung’s nose with his proximity.

“Here.” San handed him the candle. “Just hold it in line with your face and don’t burn yourself for the sake of my class.”

Wooyoung laughed but sobered up at the genuine concern that seemed to have taken over San’s face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” he reassured, holding the candle carefully.

Getting into the candlelight set of photographs was exactly like all the other ones, the camera and San’s instructions with interludes of silence broken only by the camera's shutter. 

But then San stepped closer to him, so close that Wooyoung could hear his breathing and suddenly the weight of San’s gaze on him, even through the lenses of the camera, felt much heavier.

“Look at me now,” San said and Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he was imagining the breathlessness in his voice or if it was a projection of the way he was struggling to get air into his own lungs.

He complied though, lifted his head and stared straight at the camera lenses, feeling the connection to San’s eyes even though it was impossible to make eye contact with the camera between them.

“Beautiful.”

The word was almost lost beneath the sound of the camera going off as San took another picture, but Wooyoung heard it all the same and it left an imprint in his mind and his heart stuttered.

“The picture or me?” He asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

There was a moment of silence when Wooyoung could almost hear the candle wick burning slowly.

Then, San lowered the camera slightly and looked straight into Wooyoung’s eyes, no camera in the middle, nothing except the candlelight still flickering in Wooyoung’s hand.

“The picture only looks beautiful because you’re in it.”

And, as if he hadn’t messed up with Wooyoung’s brain in a way that left him almost gasping for air, he moved to the left to take a new picture at a different angle.

“I think we’re done,” San said after a few more pictures that Wooyoung had barely realized were being taken. “The candle must be getting hot too.”

He took the candle from Wooyoung’s hand and carefully set it back on his roommates desk without blowing it out.

Wooyoung didn’t move, his mind still reeling.

“Do you want to see the pictures?” San asked.

He turned on the ceiling light, the two of them momentarily blinking against the harsh light after spending so long in the dark, and Woyooung tried to process the words and get his brain back into a working condition after San’s little comments made him lose his grip on himself.

“Yes,” he finally answered. “Let’s see how good you are.”

He could only hope that the playful tone would be enough to cover his red face and the way he was still avoiding looking San in the eyes.

They both sat on San’s bed, San on the edge, his feet on the floor, and Wooyoung settled cross-legged next to him.

“Show me,” he said.

Wooyoung hadn’t been sure what to expect from the pictures, he had never been photographed by anyone other than his close friends and family for anything other than his Instagram account and family picture albums. He didn’t have any expectations because he didn’t have any idea of how it would turn out.

But, as San started showing him the pictures, he thought that every expectation he might have had would have been thrown out the window and stomped on by how the pictures had actually turned out.

It was obvious to see that the theme was light, it was predominant in every picture and it changed the way Wooyoung looked simply by switching angles and creating shadows. 

And Wooyoung looked good. He looked beautiful as if he had been born to be photographed and to be the center of an art piece.

“These are incredible,” he breathed out, he had never seen himself like that.

He turned his head to look at San rather than the pictures, noting his shy smile and the soft blush on the high of cheeks.

“Thank you,” San whispered and Wooyoung wondered why the air in the room felt suddenly much more fragile and charged with something he couldn’t quite describe or understand.

“I’m serious, they’re beautiful. You’ll for sure have a good grade.”

San smiled at his words and Wooyoung thought that he had never felt this accomplished in his life.

“You know, people say that a photograph that you take is a physical representation of your gaze and the way you see the subject.”

“Is it?”

San nodded. “Yes, it shows the way you look at something.”

Wooyoung looked back down at the camera in San’s hands, to the way the light was shining on his own face and the way he looked so alive and beautiful. He had never looked at himself like this, with such a fond gaze, and he wondered if that was how San saw him and if he did what that meant.

“I like the way you look at me,” he said, turning his head to look at San, their faces closer than he had anticipated them to be.

“Yeah?” San’s voice softened, his eyes not straying away from Wooyoung’s, not flinching when faced with their proximity.

Wooyoung nodded.

“You look at me in a beautiful way.” He gestured vaguely to the camera.

“I think you’re beautiful,” San confessed.

“So you’ve said,” Wooyoung teased as if it didn’t affect him, as if his heart wasn’t beating wildly inside his chest and he didn’t want to be even closer to San than he already was.

“I meant it.”

Wooyoung watched, fascinated, as San’s eyes moved over his face, wide and beautiful and completely focused. He had said he thought Wooyoung was beautiful and, in the way he was looking at him now, Wooyoung could see just how truthful he had been.

He had never been looked at like this, so unashamedly tender.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Wooyooung whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me,” he said, carefully, afraid he was misreading everything.

“Why should I stop looking at you like that?”

“Because you’ll make me want for you to kiss me. You’ll make me hope for it.”

Slowly, San put the camera down safely behind him in the middle of the bed and then, even slower, his hand lifted to touch Wooyoung’s arm, hesitant and carefully.

His touch moved from his arm to his shoulder, squeezing gently, giving Wooyoung all the time in the world to back out and prevent anything from happening. But Wooyoung didn’t want to back out, he didn’t want to move away, on the contrary, he wanted to move closer, so much closer.

So, to reassure San and himself that this was happening, that they were both on the same page and neither of them wanted to stop any time soon, Wooyoung lifted his own hand, softly lying it over San’s chest, feeling his heart beating fast, creating an upbeat song that matched that of his own heart.

Looking at San now, his eyes gentle, his lips parted and pink like his cheeks, Wooyoung wished he could also capture this San with a camera, wondered if he would be able to make him look as beautiful as San had made him in every picture he had taken. 

But he wouldn’t reach for the camera right next to them, not when instead, he could reach out and touch San with both hands.

“Wooyoung,” San called, his voice so small it could barely be heard. “May I kiss you?”

Wooyoung nodded, his mouth unable to form any words.

But it was enough for San.

He leaned into Wooyoung’s space, gentle and soft and safe, and Wooyoung met him halfway.

San’s lips were soft, careful as they touched Wooyoung’s, hesitant at first but then San became sure of himself. He pressed them together more firmly, Wooyoung’s lips almost tingling under his, and cupped Wooyoung’s face in his hands.

It was sweet and gentle, but there was an edge of hardness to it, a desperation that spoke of how much both of them had wanted this to happen, how inevitable it had become.

No matter how good their kisses at the party had been, none of it could compare to right now. The gentle way San was holding him, the careful touch to his face and playful tug to his hair, the way San kissed him as if he wanted them to stay glued together and never part. It wasn’t an act this time, no pretence or fakeness, they were on the same page and the cards were laid on the table for everyone to see.

It was more meaningful, more important.

Wooyoung leaned in closer, almost sitting on San’s lap, and he didn’t want to let go.

“Hi,” San said when they parted, a dumb grin on his face.

Wooyoung giggled, unable to contain the way happiness was spilling out of him, and let his head fall to San’s shoulder. Even though it hadn’t been long since the party, he had missed the way San kissed him and now that he had a taste of honesty from San’s tongue he didn’t think he would ever be satisfied. He would always want more from him, more of him.

“Hi,” Wooyoung replied, his voice muffled against San’s shirt.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” San confessed, his hands coming up to hug Wooyoung close to him.

Wooyoung leaned back his head, not breaking their embrace but wanting to look San in the face.

“Have you?” He asked softly, fragile.

“Yes,” San said as if it were the simplest answer to give.

“Me too,” he whispered.

San’s smile turned bigger and brighter, his dimples appearing and, this time, Wooyoung didn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch the side of his face with a gentle fingertip.

San laughed as he felt the contact, but didn’t do anything to push Wooyoung’s hand away. He seemed almost fond as he stared at him and Wooyoung felt this face heat up under his gaze. He wasn’t sure how San had such an effect on him without even trying.

“I like your dimples,” he said, bravely surging up to press a kiss against it.

San stared at him in wonder for a second, not having expected that from him, but he seemed to gather himself quickly, looking at Wooyoung as if he had been challenged.

“I like your little dots. They’re so pretty,” he whispered, his breath warm on Wooyoung’s face.

San leaned in slowly, kissing right under Wooyoung’s eye, lips lingering for a second too long.

Wooyoung’s breath stuttered.

San’s lips created a path from the high of his cheek to the corner of his mouth, leaning back for a second to look him in the eye, a teasing smile when faced with how dazed Wooyoung was. And then he kissed Wooyoung's bottom lip gently.

“So pretty,” San repeated.

Wooyoung felt warm, from San’s hands to his lips to his breathing, he never wanted to part, never wanted to leave.

“Don’t you have more pictures to show me?” He asked when they parted because he thought that if they kept kissing he would end up combusting on San’s bed and set fire to his dorm.

He didn’t want to meet San’s roommate after setting fire to their dorm.

San laughed, but grabbed the camera anyway, keeping Wooyoung close to his body.

Wooyoung thought that it would be very easy to get used to this comfort and to become so familiar with it that he would want it at all times. 

He snuggled closer to San and together they looked at his pictures.