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Wooyoung isn’t surprised by the silence that engulfs the apartment once he steps into it, knowing his boyfriend wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour or two. Truth to be told, Wooyoung himself wasn’t supposed to be home either; his professor had been only about half way through his lecture before he decided that his mind was too full for him to just sit there any longer, so he left.
He doesn’t make much noise as he slips his shoes off, unceremoniously throwing his things on the couch once he’s close enough to do so. A slight hunger registers in his brain, but he doesn’t make the effort to walk towards the kitchen, the simple task of making something small like a sandwich or something seeming excruciating in his current state. Honestly, he even considers throwing himself on the couch, feeling that worn out. He ultimately decides against it, though, dragging his body to the bedroom as a last effort before all but collapsing on the bed with a soft sigh. He finds comfort in the dark of the room, blinds drawn since San insisted that it would help keep the room cooler from the ever-increasing heat that engulfed their city.
He blinked as he watched the blinds move ever so slightly as the smallest gust of wind squeezed its way through the edge of the window. The sun was still shining relentlessly, giving way to a clear sky and a light breeze, but Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel annoyance at the small amount of sunlight that managed to surpass the blinds. Everything was too bright in comparison to his thoughts and mood. He couldn’t even describe it.
It wasn’t sadness or anger, whatever Wooyoung was dealing with. It was closer to a constant exhaustion, one that only seemed to weigh him down more and more each day until it was the only thing present in his mind. It turned simple actions into chores and his existence into a burden he had to carry. He couldn’t help but have his mind wander over to the idea of ‘if I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have to go through this’, the thought not as alarming now as it had once been.
It’s not like he wanted to stop living or anything—Wooyoung swore he was content with life, most of the time anyway—but sometimes things all got too much, and he sort of just wished he’d turn into a cloud of nothing and just float up somewhere in the atmosphere. He always ended up reprimanding himself for his thoughts. How lazy of him to wish to escape his responsibilities; everyone had to deal with their own problems. It was always a battle between wanting to allow himself to pity his own predicaments versus feeling like he didn’t deserve to complain when everyone else seemed to cope just fine. The logical part of his brain told him that he was allowed to feel tired just like everyone else, but he never really believed it. It was like his brain evaded anything nice whenever he got too into his head. Talk about self-sabotage.
He tries to clear his mind but ends up falling back on the long list of things he has to accomplish within the next few days. He hasn’t had the energy to take quality notes in classes, so he probably needs to catch up on that, there’s still that essay he has to hand in by the end of the week that he has barely started, he has to contact his bank about an issue with his credit card, needs to search for new gym shoes since his current pair seem just about ready to fall apart, needs to grocery shop for the next week or two—
The door unlocks.
Wooyoung hadn’t noticed that his eyes had slipped shut until he had to blink them open in order to come back to his senses and figure out who had just stepped into the apartment. Logically, he already knows who the footsteps outside the room belong to, but his brain likes to throw in an (entirely unnecessary) ‘what if’ at him then.
He doesn’t move as the sounds inch closer to him, everything pausing for a second before resuming. He assumes the pause is just San looking at his things scattered on the couch, probably realising Wooyoung is home despite the other telling him that he’d be home at a later time. It probably doesn’t surprise San much; it wasn’t the first time in that week that Wooyoung had headed home before he was supposed to. It was a telltale sign that he was once again reaching that point of tiredness that rendered him nearly useless. Wooyoung knew San knew that—the boy was too attentive to not.
After a couple of moments, he saw a figure appear on the doorway, kind smile and dimples on display as always. Something about San always exuded warmth and comfort; even when Wooyoung felt just about ready to be swallowed by earth, he couldn’t deny that his worries dwindled just a little by simply looking at the other male.
“Were you sleeping?” Is what spills past San's lips after he seems to take in Wooyoung’s state. No question about why he’s home, why his things were carelessly dumped in their living room, why he was laying down with his ‘outside clothes’—nothing. Wooyoung loved him a little more for that.
He shook his head in response, that being enough of an answer for San as he slowly made his way towards the bed. He sat on the edge as he reached out to brush some stray hairs away from Wooyoung’s eyes, chuckling as the boy seemed to melt more into the mattress. San adored watching Wooyoung react to his every touch. “Tiring day?”
Wooyoung shrugged a little. “Or something.”
San hums in understanding, his hand shifting from messing with Wooyoung’s hair to his back, drawing shapes against the fabric of his shirt. Some might mistake the lack of pushing from San for carelessness, but to Wooyoung, it meant everything. Even before they had started dating, San quickly came to realise that Wooyoung had an exceptionally hard time speaking out about his feelings, sometimes even just his thoughts in general. It was stressful for him to try and verbalise emotions since, a lot of the time, Wooyoung couldn’t even explain them to himself. In turn, San had learned to pick up little hints when it came to Wooyoung’s mood, and Wooyoung didn’t think he ever felt so loved.
“How does greasy takeout and complete ignorance of any responsibility sound?” San asks, wiggling his eyebrows as if he had said something suggestive. It makes Wooyoung huff in amusement, a tiny grin finally breaking his sombre expression.
“Just lovely.”
It takes about five minutes for San to actually decide on where he wants to order from and another five more minutes to choose dishes he thinks they will both enjoy before finally placing the order, dropping his phone back on the mattress, and centering on Wooyoung again. It will never fail to surprise Wooyoung how much love he saw in San’s gaze whenever he so much as glanced at him, his heart skipping a beat at the notion. He watches attentively as San lays down on the mattress as well, moving over a little to give him space, but the action ends up being pointless since San just shuffles closer anyway.
They lay like that for about five seconds before Wooyoung ends up moving so he can rest his head against San’s shoulder, San sneaking a hand around his body in return. It’s almost practiced how their bodies intertwine. Little to no thought was ever put into the actions; both only satisfied upon feeling the familiar heat of the other.
San doesn’t question Wooyoung’s need for closeness, simply understanding that his boyfriend needs it. He’s happy to provide after all, always thinking that being able to have the other close was nothing short of a luxury. How could he think about it any other way when Wooyoung himself never hesitated to return all the love San sent his way? There was never an imbalance when it came to that. Any touch Wooyoung granted was so full of love that San never had to question the other’s love—he just felt it.
Some more silence goes by and Wooyoung finally speaks up, not because he feels like he has to but simply because he wants to speak to the other male. “How was your day?” He asks, now realising that he hadn’t checked in with San earlier in the day.
San hums in response, seemingly thinking for a second about how to go about explaining his day. “Pretty good, actually, turns out I didn’t completely fail my animal pathology exam, which was a surprise. I was so ready to re-do the class.” He said, the humour in his voice just enough to get a chuckle out of Wooyoung. “Yunho and I celebrated by getting those fries with beef that he likes so much—he says hi, by the way.”
San proceeds to rant about his pathology class, and despite Wooyoung's understanding of zero percent of all that’s said, he listens just as attentively as he would with any other topic. He doesn’t need to understand what San is going on about, all he needs to know is that it’s something that his boyfriend cares about, and he’s immediately hooked. It’s impossible not to be, San always sounds so eager to share what he learns throughout the day and it makes Wooyoung’s heart soar in the best way to see his boyfriend so happy. It’s an incredibly sappy thought and past Wooyoung would reprimand himself for ever allowing someone to make him so mushy, but present Wooyoung finds that he doesn't care. He allows himself to get emotional when it comes to San because San is safe, just like he always has been.
A little tap to his temple is what brings Wooyoung back to the present, turning to San only to find the other already looking at him with mild amusement mixed with some concern present in his gaze. “What’s got you thinking so hard?”
“I think I’m so in love with you I could explode.”
San blinks once, twice. “I love you too, my love.”
"No, you don’t understand, I’m about to cry because I love you and you’re just lying there!” Wooyoung insists, and San can only laugh because his boyfriend looks so sweet at that moment. Leave it to Wooyoung to get distressed by the well-known fact that he loves his boyfriend of years. Wooyoung calls San mean for laughing and it only makes the other even more giddy. He doesn’t want Wooyoung to actually cry, of course; that would probably lead to San crying himself, but he loved those moments in which Wooyoung allowed himself to just let out his feelings, even if dramatically.
San cuts Wooyoung off before he starts ranting about how unfair everything is by pulling him into a sweet kiss, the action working like magic as he instantly feels Wooyoung melt into him. The content sigh that passes from Wooyoung’s lips to San’s own makes the latter smile ever so slightly. There’s nothing more gratifying to San than having his presence be a source of comfort, especially on tough days like the one Wooyoung was currently having. This is love, he thinks, because what else would it be? In his mind, there is no purer act of love than that of simply appreciating each other for existing, no grand actions needed.
The innocence only lasts so long since Wooyoung insists on being a little shit even in emotional instances, his hand somehow wandering alarmingly close to San’s waistband at some point. Usually, San would have no issue in indulging him, more than happy to let Wooyoung have his way with him. However, the pending delivery of their food makes him act against his own wishes, not wanting to accidentally traumatise some poor delivery guy again. He lets Wooyoung get his hand under his shirt before reaching over to pinch Wooyoung’s hip, a yelp leaving Wooyoung as he jumps back.
“What was that for?” He instantly complains, a half-hearted frown appearing on his face. It takes everything in San to not kiss him again.
“The food is gonna be here any minute, I don’t need either of us rushing to open the door half naked. What if they finally ban us off the app for indecency?”
Wooyoung huffs. “Just something quick, please?”
“Last time you said that, I ended up having to cancel meeting up with my study group.”
“It’s not my fault someone ended up with a limp.”
“It literally is!”
“It is not—hey! Don’t walk away from me, Choi San!”
And once again, San simply laughs as he hears Wooyoung shuffle off the bed by the time he reaches their kitchen. Wooyoung pretends that he’s angry with San for a whole thirty seconds before seemingly giving up and instead throwing himself onto their couch as they wait for the food to arrive. It’s only a handful of minutes before their doorbell rings, San rushing off to collect it all as Wooyoung makes space for everything on their coffee table. He knows the drill from here; San will come back with their food and instantly switch the television on. He’ll find the drama they last watched before spreading the food over the table and opening it all up. It doesn’t matter where each plate goes, Wooyoung will end up asking for a bite anyway, so San doesn’t bother actually ‘organising’ anything. Once everything is to his liking, he’ll play the episode and they’ll watch until one of them falls asleep or until they suddenly remember a forgotten task.
Really, Wooyoung couldn’t ask for more.
He watches as San slides next to him on the couch before smiling to himself at how San does everything in the same order as always. It feels strangely domestic, but it eases any worries that might’ve still been floating around in Wooyoung’s mind and at this point, he barely even remembers what it was that was troubling him so much before.
He shuffles closer to the edge of the couch in order to take a bite of his own dish before dutifully opening his mouth as San wordlessly offers him a bite of his own. San asks if it’s good and like always, Wooyoung agrees. His answers seem to satisfy San enough into finally pressing play. Nothing has changed really—Wooyoung still has the same responsibilities as he did when he first walked in but now a part of himself realises that he’ll get through it all just like he did before. It’s basically impossible to feel dejected when he has San next to him. It doesn't matter if San is complaining about how unrealistic a scene in a show is or if he’s actively reassuring Wooyoung that he can tackle something he had been putting off—it’s always enough.
He turns in time to watch as San brings his chopsticks towards his mouth, only to end up missing it entirely, all too engrossed in the series to really pay attention to what he was doing. It brings an unadulterated feeling of adoration to Wooyoung’s chest, for as silly as it is.
Yeah, Wooyoung supplies to himself in his mind; this is love.