Chapter Text
The sun filtered through the half closed blinds casting soft lines of sunlight over San’s bed. His alarm had gone off ten minutes ago, but he was already up blinking slowly at the ceiling in his half asleep state. He starts stretching out the stiffness in his arms over his head before finally sitting all the way up. He ran a hand through his messy hair, letting out a dramatic whining sound as he forced himself out of bed.
Morning routines were easy for him, and more of a thing he always looked forward to. Within minutes, he was in the kitchen cracking eggs into a pan and toasting bread while a strawberry banana smoothie blended in the background. The apartment was quiet aside from the occasional sizzle of butter in the pan and the low volume of his R&B playlist playing from his phone on the counter.
Cooking was second nature to him and it was something he found calming, though the dishes always tested his patience. He eyed the growing pile of dishes in the sink, sighing dramatically before going back to his cooking. “Later. Future San can deal with that.”
Breakfast was slow and peaceful. He scrolled through his phone between bites, checking messages and half heartedly planning his day. He planned to host his usual dance classes at noon, and maybe a small grocery run after, maybe even the gym in the evening depending on how tired he was.
After finishing his food, he leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face before reluctantly getting up to wash his dishes. Future San might be thanking him right now, and the thought made him chuckle. He glanced at the clock. If he wanted to get to the studio early, he needed to leave soon.
San threw on a gray hoodie over his workout gear, which was just a black compression top and black jogging pants. San grabbed his bag and slid his earbuds in his ears with his playlist continuing as he stepped out the door.
Across the hall, Yeosang was having a very different kind of morning.
The sound of his alarm was a distant noise in dreamland as he remained face down in his pillow. It had been going off for at least five minutes before he groggily reached out and smacked the clock on the bedside table silent, groaning as he rolled onto his back, his long hair getting in his face.
Mornings were his mortal enemy.
It took him another few minutes to convince himself to move as the bed felt too good to move from. Eventually he dragged himself up, his red hair a complete mess, eyes barely open as he shuffled out of his room and straight to the kitchen. He didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he moved in his half awake state to open the cabinet, grab a mug, and pour some premade iced coffee from the bottle in the fridge.
Only once he had his first sip did he allow himself to check his phone. He had a few notifications from his gaming community that included messages from his regular viewers and saw that some clip from his last stream was gaining a little traction on TikTok. He smiled lazily, scrolling through replies as he leaned against the counter, slowly waking up.
He had a long day ahead. The bookstore needed to be opened, groceries needed to be picked up for his friend, and at some point, he wanted to edit some footage for a new video and if he had time he might stream. Maybe he might skip editing and go straight to streaming. He made a mental note to start on that tonight after streaming if he wanted to be mega productive.
For now, though, he needed to get moving.
The apartment hallway was quiet as San locked his door, adjusting the strap of his bag as he scrolled through his playlist as he walked down the hallway.
Down the hall from San, Yeosang had just stepped out as well, still looking a little sleepy as he walked toward the front desk to pick up a package. His hair was slightly ruffled, his oversized sweater making him look even smaller than he was.
San glanced up just as Yeosang walked past him. There was something familiar about him with the way he moved and how quiet he was. Then it clicked. Neighbor. Right. He lived down the hall from him.
Yeosang barely seemed to notice him at first, focused on checking the label on his package to make sure his name was on it. But when he caught sight of San watching him, he froze like a deer in headlights, then gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.
San returned it with a nod of his own before heading toward the elevator.
Not much of an interaction, but still.
He slipped his earbuds back in, heading out for the day.
✢✢✢
San arrived at the studio a little early, as always. The smell of polished wood and faint traces of sweat greeted him the moment he stepped inside, along with the familiar low hum of pop music playing from one of the back rooms. Sounded like Yunho’s playlist. He set his bag down, rolling his neck before heading to the front to check the roster for today’s class. It was a beginner session, so mostly teens with a few adults who wanted to learn the basics were attending today. San liked these classes as they were fun, relaxed, and he got to see real progress in his students without the stress of competition and need to overcorrect.
As he was stretching near the mirrored wall, Yunho walked in tossing a towel over his shoulder. “Are you ready to be in serious instructor mode?”
San gave him a look through the mirror. “I don't change that much.”
“Oh, you do,” Yunho teased, settling next to him. “You go from ‘nice guy San’ to ‘I will correct your posture until you cry’ San.”
San lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “I just want them to get it right.”
Before Yunho could respond, the door to the studio swung open dramatically, and Wooyoung sauntered in like he owned the place. “Ah, Choi San, my favorite responsible bestie.”
San sighed, already knowing where this was going. “What do you want, Wooyoung?”
“Nothing! Just wanted to remind you that you work too hard and that you should be out partying with me instead of, you know, making the youth of today better dancers.” Wooyoung leaned against the mirrored wall with his arms crossed. “You should thank me for keeping you entertained.”
“I don't find you entertaining,” San said in a fake serious tone.
Yunho snorted. “You do, though.”
Wooyoung pointed at him. “See? Yunho gets it.” He turned back to San. “Just don’t become one of those workaholics who forgets how to have fun, alright?”
Before San could reply, the students started trickling in forcing Wooyoung to step aside. San clapped his hands together, switching gears immediately. “Alright, everyone, let’s start warming up!”
And just like that, he was in instructor mode, all focused, precise, but still encouraging. He moved through the class with swiftness, demonstrating steps and correcting postures as he saw fit. He liked seeing his students light up when they got something right, their confidence building with each movement.
By the time class ended four hours later, he was sweating bullets but satisfied. Wooyoung and Yunho were waiting for him by the front desk chatting it up after everyone was leaving, Wooyoung looking dramatically exhausted despite doing nothing. “That was painful to watch. So much discipline and too much responsibility.”
San rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“That's why you love me,” Wooyoung shot back, linking arms with both San and Yunho as they headed out of the studio with their belongings. “Now, what’s next on the schedule?”
San thought for a second. “Probably the gym before I grab groceries.”
“Of course, gym,” Wooyoung sighed. “You live such a thrilling life.”
Yunho patted San’s shoulder. “Hey, at least he has structure.”
Wooyoung groaned. “Ugh, that’s what makes it tragic.”
San just shook his head thoroughly amused as they walked down the street together.
✢✢✢
Mornings at the bookstore were always quiet, just the way Yeosang liked it. He unlocked the doors, stepping inside and inhaling the scent of paper, lavender, and old wood. It was comforting, familiar as it always was. With quick movements, he went through his usual routine of checking the register, setting out the new arrivals that came in overnight, and making himself a cup of peppermint tea before settling behind the counter with a book he was obsessed with these days.
Not long after opening, the bell above the door chimed, and Jongho walked in, already heading toward his usual table by the window. “Morning, Sangie.”
“Morning,” Yeosang replied, glancing up. “You’re back to studying again?”
Jongho dropped his bag onto the table with a sigh. “Always. They give us so much material, but it only makes sense I guess.”
Yeosang hummed in understanding. Jongho was studying something medical, though Yeosang never pried too much so he didn’t know exactly what branch of medicine Jongho was studying at the moment. Still, he admired his friend’s dedication.
Not long after Jongho’s arrival, Hongjoong strolled in, looking around with a sparkle in his eye before heading straight to Yeosang at the counter. “Hi Yeosang, anything new in?”
“Depends,” Yeosang said, setting his book down. “What are you looking for?”
Hongjoong leaned on the counter, tapping his fingers against the surface as he was thinking. “Hm, something visually interesting. I'm working on a zine, so inspiration is key.”
Yeosang nodded and gestured for him to follow. He led him to a section filled with fashion and art books, pulling a few off the shelf that he thought Hongjoong might like. Hongjoong flipped through them, nodding in approval. “Yeah, these are good. Exactly what I was thinking of, thank you. I will keep looking for some more.”
As Hongjoong continued browsing, a customer walked up to the counter, hesitating slightly before speaking. “Um… sorry, but… are you Yeosang? From… like, from online?”
Yeosang stiffened slightly but forced himself to stay composed. “Ah… yeah, that’s me.”
The customer brightened up, his smile turning into something big and infectious. Even a slight blush was on his cheeks. “Oh! I love your streams. You’re really good at the games you play and you’re so funny.”
“Thanks,” Yeosang said, managing a small shy smile before ringing them up. He wasn’t used to being recognized in person as it always felt different from interacting through a screen. Still, he handled it well enough, and the customer left happy.
As he returned to his book, Hongjoong smirked at him. “Mr. Famous, huh Yeosang?”
“Shut up,” Yeosang muttered, flipping a page as a flush was creeping up his neck.
Hongjoong chuckled, setting his chosen books on the counter. “Don’t worry, I won't tell your adoring fans where you hide out at.”
Yeosang rolled his eyes but rang him up anyway. He thanks and wishes Hongjoong good luck on his project as he leaves the store, going back to reading his book.
As the day continued, he lost himself in his tasks, restocking shelves, organizing orders, cleaning up, and helping the occasional customer. By the time evening rolled around, he was tucked in a corner, reading, waiting for closing time to come so he could head to the grocery store just down the street from his bookstore.
It was a good day. A quiet, familiar, comfortable day.
Just the way he liked it.
✢✢✢
San ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, still cooling off from his workout as he stepped into the grocery store. He could already feel the sweat drying against his skin, the post gym discomfort already settling in but he pushed it aside. It was fine, he just needed to grab a few things and head right home.
The usual shop music played overhead as he moved through the aisles, scanning for ingredients that he needed and even some that might appeal to him. San was looking to make something quick and easy for dinner. Maybe pasta. Or stir fry, yum. He could already hear Wooyoung scolding him in his head for not meal prepping properly, but whatever, it wasn’t like he was about to start now.
As he turned the corner, a familiar figure caught his eye. It took San a second to place him. He recognized the slightly disheveled red hair and the intense but at the same time soft expression, but the way he stood with one hand on his hip while eyeing a top shelf like it had personally offended him amused him.
It was Yeosang, his neighbor.
San slowed his steps, watching as Yeosang stretched onto his tiptoes, fingers just barely grazing the edge of a box. He wobbled slightly, frowning in frustration.
San took it upon himself to step in, quickly coming over and reaching up easily and plucking the item off the shelf. Without thinking, he held it out to the latter. “Here.”
“Oh…” Yeosang blinked at him rapidly, clearly surprised. He took the granola box, San noted and muttered, “Thanks.”
San shoved his free hand into his pocket, debating if he should just walk away or attempt conversation. He was usually good at this sort of thing, but Yeosang had that energy about him that was selectively quiet, maybe a little intimidating if you didn’t know him well. San just assumed this, though.
“You live on my building floor, right?” San asked, going with the easiest opener.
Yeosang gave a small nod, tucking the box under his arm. “A few doors down from you.”
“Figured. I see you sometimes in the mornings, this morning especially.”
That earned San a brief glance, like Yeosang was trying to recall if he had noticed San too and then smiled as he remembered. “Yeah. You leave early, sometimes when I do or a little bit before.”
“Dance classes,” San supplied. “I teach them with a friend. I try to get there early when I can.”
Yeosang’s expression didn’t change much, but his eyebrows lifted slightly as a subtle acknowledgment. “Mm. Bookstore,” he said simply.
San tilted his head, curious. “You own it?”
“Mm.” Yeosang adjusted the items in his basket. “Just a small place of mine.”
San smiled a little, moving to Yeosang’s side as they slowly moved down the aisle, San grabbing a few items here and there that he needed as they moved. “I think I’ve walked past it before. It looks nice.”
Yeosang hummed, remaining quiet but not because he wasn’t interested, he just wasn’t much of a talker. Their conversation was easy but had a reserved vibe to it with San doing most of the talking and Yeosang responding in short but polite sentences and even sounds.
“The water pressure in our building is weird,” San said suddenly, switching topics on a whim.
That got a reaction out of Yeosang, which was a quiet exhale that might have been a laugh, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he smiled a bit. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”
“Sometimes it’s fine, and then out of nowhere, it’s like showering under a broken faucet.” San says, exaggerating the actions with his hands.
Yeosang nodded in agreement. “Or a fire hydrant.”
San grinned, his dimples showing as he did so. “Exactly.”
They continued walking toward the checkout. The conversation drifted to small apartment complaints like how the elevator refused to work on random days of the week, the way their floor’s hallway light flickered ominously at night and Yeosang mentioning maybe a ghost was doing it, which earned him a hearty laugh from San. It was casual and light, the kind of talk neighbors might have when crossing paths but with just enough casualness to make it comfortable.
As they neared the registers, Yeosang adjusted his grip on his basket. “I won’t be home right away. Dropping off groceries for a friend.”
San glanced at him, noting how he said it so matter of factly like he wasn’t used to offering up personal details but was doing it anyway. San, always the social one in, took it in anyway.
“Nice of you,” he said. “Hope they appreciate it, I know I would.”
Yeosang made a soft sound, neither confirming nor denying San’s comment.
They reached the self checkout, both setting their baskets down. San turned slightly, giving Yeosang a once over. His eyes stayed on him for a second longer than intended as he was noticing how Yeosang’s posture, usually relaxed, had a quiet poise to it. He looked good under the grocery store lights in an unintentional way. He is actually pretty, something out of a manga almost.
Yeosang caught him looking.
San, ever the confident one, didn’t look away immediately and just offered a small smirk as he turned back to scan his items.
Yeosang didn’t react much by some miracle because he usually would, but he was also used to people staring at him. But as San swiped his card to pay for his items and grabbed his bags to walk away, he could have sworn he saw the faintest tilt of Yeosang’s lips as if he had noticed and was smiling about it but chose not to comment.
San lingered by the grocery store exit with his bags in hand watching as Yeosang swiped his card at the self checkout. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was waiting, maybe just to be polite or because he wasn’t done talking, or maybe because Yeosang’s quiet but oddly compelling presence made him curious. Either way, he leaned against the wall waiting, a lazy smile turning into a bigger one when Yeosang finally turned toward him, looking slightly puzzled to still see San.
“Hey, since we keep running into each other, you wanna exchange numbers?” San asked, keeping his tone friendly. “Y’know, just neighborly stuff. Might need to borrow sugar or complain about the water pressure together.”
Yeosang blinked in his usual confused way, his fingers tightening slightly around the strap of his handbag on his shoulder. His lips parted like he wanted to question it, but instead his eyes went back to San’s dimples. For some reason, his eyes kept drifting there like they had some kind of gravitational pull. Then, as if realizing he had been staring for a second too long, he cleared his throat.
“…Uh, Sure.” He pulled out his phone, tapping quickly to unlock it before handing it over for San to put in his number. His first instinct was to hesitate, not because he didn’t want to but because it had been a while since someone asked so straightforwardly.
San smirked as he saved it, quickly sending Yeosang a text so he would have his number too. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Yeosang hummed, pocketing his phone as they walked out of the exit, giving San a playful smile. “We’ll see.”
They parted ways at the corner, Yeosang giving him a small wave before heading toward an opposite street. San watched him for a moment before shaking his head clearly amused, and turning toward the street that his apartment complex was on, San heading back to his apartment with a little more pep in his step than usual.
✢✢✢
Once home, San set his grocery bags down with a relieved sigh.
“Thank goodness past me decided to clean the dishes earlier,” he says to himself, already knowing he wouldn’t have had the energy to do them now.
Cooking was one of his favorite things to do, but even he had limits as coming home tired and facing a sink full of dishes would’ve drained the fun right out of it. Thankfully, the kitchen was spotless, ready for him to dive right in and make a mess out of it again.
Humming, San turned on his speaker and connected his phone, scrolling through his playlist before settling on something upbeat. Soon, the apartment filled with the sound of his current favorite pop music, setting the perfect mood.
As he unpacked his groceries, he started prepping ingredients, deciding to make one of his comfort meals which was kimchi fried rice with a fried egg on top. Simple, but perfect and delicious as always.
He moved around the kitchen as he cooked and prepped, chopping green onions while occasionally singing along to the song playing. When his favorite part came on, he didn’t resist the urge to dance a little, shaking his shoulders as he tossed the kimchi into the pan, the sizzle and delicious smell filling the air.
Cooking always puts him in a good mood. There was something therapeutic about the process with the chopping, the sizzling, and the way ingredients almost always came together to form something comforting and good in his belly.
He flipped the rice in the pan, the rich smell spreading through the apartment. “Damn, I'm good,” San said to himself with a grin, cracking an egg into a separate pan.
As everything came together, he plated his food neatly topping it off with sesame seeds and a small drizzle of sesame oil. He took a step back admiring his work, even taking a picture of it as he did out of habit. One day, he would post them online, but not now.
“Chef San, you’re so good.” San declared dramatically before grabbing his chopsticks and heading to the couch, eager to dig in as his stomach was screaming at him to eat.
Little did he know, his cooking had caught someone’s attention. Outside his door, just for a moment, Yeosang paused while passing by to go to his own unit. The warm, mouthwatering scent of home cooked food was floating about in the hallway, making him stop mid step, suddenly craving for whatever it was.
He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. He needed to get some good meals himself soon. Deciding not to dwell on it for too long, he continued walking, disappearing into his own apartment absolutely exhausted from all the walking he did.
Meanwhile inside his own place, San took his first bite and sighed happily. “Yup, nailed it.”
San plopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh balancing the plate of food on his lap. The glow from the TV glowed against the walls as he flipped through channels absentmindedly trying to find something to watch to help him eat since he didn’t like to eat without anything playing.
But as he ate, his eyes drifted to the sheer amount of food in front of him in the kitchen. He had done it again. Even after trying to scale things down, he had still made enough for two… maybe even three. San chewed thoughtfully, staring at the extra portions on the kitchen counter. He really needed to start getting better at this portion size thing.
As he contemplated whether to save the rest for tomorrow or force himself to eat more, a thought struck him. His neighbor, Yeosang.
San glanced toward the door, his mind replaying their brief conversation at the store. Yeosang seemed polite, maybe a little shy, but he didn’t seem like the type to turn down free food. Besides, San wasn’t about to let good food go to waste.
Decision made, he set his plate aside and got up, grabbing a container and carefully packing up a portion. As he snapped the lid shut, he stopped for a moment wondering if this was weird. Did people do this? Just show up at their neighbor’s door with food after one proper conversation?
Shrugging off the thought, he grabbed his phone and the container of food, stepping toward the door. If Yeosang thought it was weird, he could just brush it off as a friendly gesture and decline. No harm done, though it might be a little embarrassing for San.
A few seconds later, he was knocking lightly on Yeosang’s door waiting for a response. The sound of footsteps from the other side made him straighten up, shifting the container in his hands so that it was properly seen in front of him as Yeosang pulled the door open.
“Oh? Hello, there.” Yeosang says as he was genuinely surprised, eyes going from San to the container in his hands.
San held it out casually, a small grin on his face. "I made too much, portion sizes are my mortal enemy. I figured you might want some."
Yeosang just stood at the door frozen, glancing between San and the offered food. There was a pause, something unreadable passing over his face before a small sheepish chuckle escapes him. "I was literally just about to dig through my cabinets and settle for instant noodles."
San lets out a laugh, nudging the container toward him. "Then I just saved you from a tragic fate."
Yeosang gave him a real smile this time, one that softened his usually neutral features. “Yeah, looks like you did.” He accepted the food, glancing down at it before looking back up. “What is it?”
“Kimchi fried rice with an egg on top. I kind of made it up as I went, but it should be decent. Unless you hate it with the egg on top then I have instant regret and I apologize.”
Yeosang shook his head. "No, the egg is good. This is... nice of you. I don't usually have people knocking on my door."
"Then consider this a first," San said happily, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. "I figured it wouldn’t hurt to share."
Yeosang nods, hugging the food to his chest. “Thank you so much.”
San’s grin widened, giving Yeosang a kind nod. "No problem. Hope you like it."
They exchanged small waves before Yeosang disappeared back inside, the door clicking shut behind him and it being locked. San stood there for a second feeling oddly pleased with himself, before heading back to his own apartment, his grin still on his face. He settled back onto the couch picking up his plate again, feeling lighter somehow as he resumed his meal.
That was nice. Yeosang was an interesting guy, quiet, but not in a standoffish way. Just... reserved as all hell. San found that kind of amusing considering how much Yeosang’s good looking features made him look like he belonged on the cover of a high fashion magazine. He hadn’t failed to notice the way Yeosang’s eyes kept landing on his dimples either, which was sort of cute. Not that San was thinking about it too much.
Just as he was about to take another bite of his food, his phone lit up. Wooyoung.
San rolled his eyes fondly and answered it quickly. “If you say anything about me eating late, I’m hanging up.”
“Excuse me, but I have rights as your best friend,” Wooyoung shot back immediately. “And one of those rights is judging your terrible meal schedule.”
San snorted. “First of all, this is a great meal. Second of all, I was busy.”
“Oh? Busy with what?”
San chewed slowly, debating on whether he wanted to give Wooyoung ammunition so soon. He was going to find out eventually, anyway.
“Talking to my neighbor down the hall.”
Wooyoung gasped so loudly that San had to pull the phone away from his ear. “You? Wait, who?!”
“Yeosang. A few doors down, kept bumping into him today.”
“Shut up. Since when do you talk to him?”
“Properly? Since like... an hour ago? Briefly? A few minutes ago.” San laughed. “I saw him at the store. He couldn’t reach something, so I helped him out. And I gave him some of my extra dinner because I suck with portions.”
“Oh my god, that is so corny.”
San rolled his eyes again, stabbing a piece of kimchi with his fork. “Don’t ‘oh my god’ me.”
“I will absolutely ‘oh my god’ you! Do you know how mysterious that guy is? He barely even acknowledges people. I thought he was allergic to human interaction.”
“Well, he talked to me.”
“Yeah, because you practically force people to talk to you and you talk their ears off.”
San grinned, looking at the TV absently. “It’s a gift.”
“Wait, wait, wait… hold on,” Wooyoung said, his voice filled with suspicion now. “How long did you guys talk?”
San swallowed his food before answering, “I don’t know, like ten minutes total?”
“Ten whole minutes? That’s practically a lifetime for someone like Yeosang.”
San shrugged, even though Wooyoung couldn’t see him. “It was normal. We just talked about apartment stuff and work stuff. Nothing crazy.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Wooyoung speaks again.
“Wait. Yeosang? That name sounds familiar...”
San frowned, taking another bite of his food. “Familiar how?”
“Give me a second, I swear I saw this guy on my FYP before,” Wooyoung grumbles, and San could hear the furious tapping of his keyboard on the other end of the line.
San rolled his eyes but kept eating. “You and your weird ability to recognize random internet people-”
“HA! I KNEW IT!” Wooyoung practically shouted, making San pull the phone from his ear again. A second later, San’s phone buzzed with a link sent from Wooyoung. “Dude, check your messages. I swear this is him.”
San sighed, licking some sauce off his thumb before opening his messages. A video preview showed a gaming stream, the title reading something about a late night chill session. The username didn’t stand out, but then the clip started playing, and, oh yeah…
The voice was familiar. It was Yeosang for sure, but it wasn’t the same reserved, soft spoken Yeosang from earlier. He was still quiet, but there was more of a casualness to his tone as he said something sarcastic at the chat, his focus entirely on the horror game in front of him.
“That’s him?” San asked, surprised.
“Right? I knew I wasn’t crazy. He’s got a decent following, too. Kind of mysterious and cool, dude even owns a bookstore.”
San hummed, watching for a few more seconds before saving the link. “I’ll check it out later.”
“You better. This is so weird. You just met a celebrity.”
San snorted. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Or maybe it’s fate that you met.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
Wooyoung cackled. “You love it.”
San sighed, finishing off half of his plate of food but Wooyoung wasn’t done.
“Wait, hold on, I'm looking through his stuff now…" Wooyoung paused, then gasped. “San. He's actually funny. Oh my god, listen to this.”
San could hear the sound of Wooyoung scrolling through clips. A second later, Yeosang’s voice came through his speakers.
“Chat, if I die, it’s because my team abandoned me,” Yeosang’s voice came through deadpan. Then there was the unmistakable sound of his character getting killed, followed by a long silence and sigh from him. “Yeah. Okay. Wow, I love teamwork.”
Wooyoung burst into laughter. “He's so sarcastic, Sannie, he’s literally just like you.”
San snickers, shaking his head. “Okay, great. Now I'm curious.”
“I'm telling you, you should totally watch him live. He's playing right now, just click the link.”
San hesitated, staring at his phone. “Fine but I'll check it out later when I get ready for bed," San says.
Wooyoung continued scrolling and giggling at random clips, and San sighed, finishing off the last of his food. They kept talking, their conversation going into random topics until eventually Wooyoung got tired and hung up. San leaned back in his seat with his phone still in his hand now staring at the screen where the video preview lingered. He definitely needed to check it out later.
✢✢✢
Later that night after getting into bed, he found himself clicking on the link again. Then out of curiosity, he searched the username online.
Yeoberman_TV.
Yeosang was still live.
San hesitated, then on impulse made an anonymous account. He picked a name that felt like him but wasn’t obvious and was something casual and easy to blend in with the others. After making sure his real name wasn’t anywhere on the profile and his profile picture a cat, he clicked into the stream.
Yeosang was playing a game, something called Valorant, the soft glow of his screen lighting up his face. He looked comfortable, his features relaxed, and San was struck by how different he seemed compared to earlier. He was more focused, a little more talkative, and when he did speak, his voice had a quiet kind of warmth to it. San could tell he wasn’t as energetic as other streamers, which was fine with him as those weren’t his cup of tea. He even made small sarcastic jokes here and there, his chat responding with laughter and playing along with him.
San found himself watching more intently than he expected, not even knowing what this game was. His fingers hovered over the chat box before he typed out a comment, something casual.
astroxan: why does your aim look like you just woke up from a nap?
Yeosang read it aloud, looking at the screen for a few seconds before scoffing lightly. “Hey, my aim is perfectly fine. You want me to prove it? Watch this.”
He immediately missed his next shot.
The chat erupted into laughter.
LMAO
yeo pls
he’s trying his best
he jinxed himself smh…
San smirked, quickly typing another message.
astroxan: i'm watching but i'm not seeing much improvement...
Yeosang groaned, tilting his head back slightly. “Okay, whoever you are, you’re officially banned from judging me.”
The chat spammed more laughing emojis this time around, and San found himself quietly entertained, resting his chin on his hand as he continued watching the stream. Yeosang was good at responding to chat in a way that felt natural like he was actually talking to them rather than just reacting.
During a moment where he was matchmaking and he was quiet, he started talking about something else completely unprompted. “Okay, but why does cold pizza taste better in the mornings? I think it’s a little life changing.”
The chat immediately fired back.
so true
cold pizza is so ew, yeo
hot pizza >>>>>
San lets out a quiet laugh. He didn’t even know why he was still watching, but there was something oddly comforting about it. Maybe it was the smoothness of Yeosang’s voice, the way the stream felt like background noise, or how it was just nice to see him in his element.
Somewhere along the way, San’s eyes grew heavy. The low volume of the game, the occasional sound of Yeosang’s voice, the sound of his mouse and keyboard, it was definitely nice background noise and it was lulling San to sleep. Before San knew it, he had fallen asleep, the stream still playing on his phone.