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Summary
San tries not to look. He really does.
It’s just that Wooyoung is wearing that outfit. A cropped white tank top clinging to his torso, exposing the soft dip of his waist and the golden stretch of his stomach every time he shifts. His jeans are slung irresponsibly low on his hips, barely held up by a black belt with a silver chain dangling from the side. One of his earrings catches the sun.
He doesn’t usually dress like that.
San has known him since they were twelve, since braces and shared juice boxes at lunch. Back then, Wooyoung wore oversized hoodies and jeans with ripped knees and doodled all over his sneakers in Sharpie. San thought the butterflies in his stomach were just admiration. He didn’t realize what it really was until high school, when Wooyoung got taller, sharper, louder and more beautiful without meaning to.
He’s spent years carefully managing his crush. Tucking it away, folding it neatly into the shape of something harmless. Friendship.