mute ; woosan

/3/

wooyoung trudges back up the stairs toward his bedroom, stepping over the loose serving-size bags of chips and random clothes. his new friend sits politely on his bed, his backpack neatly set at his feet on the floor.

"jesus. i didn't realize my room was such a mess," wooyoung gives a light chuckle. his embarrassment is evident in his voice. "is it okay if i sit with you? if you're more comfortable with having your own space, i completely understand."

san looks at the silver-haired boy standing across the room with a conflicted look. he eventually gives the space next to him a gentle pat to let wooyoung know he can sit with him. he unzips his backpack and sets a few notebooks on the ash grey bedsheets covering his mattress. he doesn't miss the way his company eyes the papers and school supplies with judging eyes.

"we have plenty of time until the final. this final is at the end of the second semester, but you already knew that. they're letting us prepare early. personally, i don't wanna start working on it yet. i feel like jumping in the deep end right now isn't a good idea. do you wanna work on math with me?"

the brunette nods without any ounce of hesitation, his faint purple highlights seemingly disappearing and reappearing on his head. he digs through his bag and pulls out a notebook stuffed with papers in order to shuffle through its contents. he notices the way wooyoung curiously examines the notebook without taking it from the boy's possession. slowly, san slides the notebook behind him until it is beyond the other's gaze.

wooyoung's math supplies are sprawled out in front of him. carelessly thrown pencils, a pink eraser, note sheets and a calculator have no rhyme or reason in the pattern they are laying in. he watches as the boy in front of him organizes each item in a straight, neat fashion next to the worksheet they are beginning to work on.

"thanks, san," wooyoung hums in gratitude, watching as his new friend's lips form a toothy smile. at this point, wooyoung has never seen san open his mouth. his smile took him by surprise; his eyes lock on the brunette and sweep over his features. high, defined cheekbones, thin lips that seamlessly stretch into the perfect smile, and eyes that crinkle from the way his cheeks rise as he grins. oh god, he has dimples.

san gently clears his throat, his eyes trained on the space between them, not on wooyoung's eyes on his face. the sound breaks wooyoung from his stunned spell and he scratches the back of his neck. had he really been staring at san? yikes... not a great first impression.

"i, uh..." no excuse comes to mind. "i'm... not as organized as you are, apparently." in an attempt to break the awkward silence, wooyoung looks back at the way his company organized their materials. he wasn't really looking at them. he was internally kicking himself for getting distracted.

the older boy's lips once again show a small smile, humoring wooyoung. he places his paper on a hardcover school textbook, pulling the textbook onto his lap. the two work in silence narrated by the scribbling of pencils and scratching of erasers. every once in a while, wooyoung steals a glance at the senior next to him. he isn't sure why, though he tells himself it is to check on his company and assure himself that san is comfortable and doing okay. his eyes don't fool his mind, though. wooyoung can only note how san's eyes dart across the paper, peering over a clearly focused pout as he works through the homework. san holds his interest through the remainder of the worksheet, consequently finishing it before wooyoung. go figure.

the brunette stands and quietly exists the bedroom. his host opens his mouth to ask where he is going but promptly closes it. the attempt is futile. as soon as his eyes return to his paper, san appears in the doorway, a quizzical look visible on his face.

"are you hungry?"

a head shake.

"thirsty?"

another.

"um... oh, bathroom?"

nod.

wooyoung's silver hair bounces as he stands rather quickly. san scurries away from the doorway and watches wooyoung's hand as it raises.

"it's the only door that's closed down that way," he directs and gets a small head nod as a response. san disappears into the bathroom and his host takes a seat back on his bed. wooyoung takes another attempt at the worksheet; typically, he's good at math, but the numbers jump around on the page like his heart in his chest. a smile never knocked him upside the head as san's did.

he tried to reason his way through his distraction. maybe he's simply curious about san and the curiosity turns his manners into a four year old's. san probably thinks he's strange now. an unexpected heavy feeling sinks its way into the pit of wooyoung's stomach. had he already failed? will san even want to work with him anymore?

the movement in his doorway lifts his gaze. as san walks back into the room, wooyoung notices that san's shoulders were no longer as taught as before. he takes his seat next to wooyoung again, feeling more comfortable and relaxed.

the drive home was warm with anticipation. he developed a routine: check the mirrors, his speed, then his passenger. he stayed on high alert, hyper aware of every movement his passenger made. he double checked the volume of the radio and a song from his indie video game phase began to play. he never skipped a song so fast in his life.

although he wasn't embarrassed of his taste in music, nor his past interests, the first thought in his head was how san would think of him. the older's head snaps toward him, his eyebrows furrowed but a smile on his lips. warmth blooms across wooyoung's face.

"ah, don't judge me! i was a freddy's fan. you can't say that the creative fans who made songs did a bad job."

wooyoung's attempt to save himself worked because san opens his phone to show his own collection of songs made from video games.

maybe they really could be friends.