SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan

48

warmth is draping over wooyoung when he wakes. drowsily, his eyes flutter open, torturous due to the searing rays of marmalade sunlight slipping in through the blinds.

the heat is nothing compared to the arms embracing him, however, or the legs entangled between his own, or the breath just faintly gliding across the skin of his temple. truly nothing compares to san; the feelings he has the ability to stir within wooyoung are ineffable, a talent he's pioneered and mastered like no other — even in deep sleep.

contrasting to just moments ago, wooyoung's eyes shimmer when they flicker towards san, with utmost fondness at the serene sight.

san's hair is stood erect here and there, the dishevelled tussle of his dark locks somehow endearing, and wooyoung lifts a hand up to brush a few of its strands out of his eyes. then, his palm moves over to rest upon the side of san's face, where almost unnoticeable moles are sprinkled across his skin, its natural, honey-like shades emphasised beneath the gleam of the sun.

despite being the only conscious being in the room, wooyoung's fingers are nervous when they trail down to cup san's jaw. simultaneous with the pace of his heaving chest, small breaths escape his lips, the addictive, pink, tender lips wooyoung has learned to love over the past night. even more against his own. 

wooyoung's heart drums rhythmically in every cell in his body. san likes him. he feels like it's only genuinely sunk in now, now with the tranquil quiet filling the walls, consisting of just him and his thoughts. san actually fucking likes him. wooyoung grins brightly, his joy resulting in him snuggling into san's chest. he can make out the calm sound of his heart beating.

there's still the question of what these feelings mean, however. what they mean for them. it'll take a while to figure out, wooyoung knows, but after last night, he believes they can find a way to do so soon — a way to be happy with each other.

it makes wooyoung feel... almost afraid when he thinks about it, too; he's never been in a relationship before. he's never been able to experience what it feels like to receive this type of love, or care, or intimacy before, and neither has he ever had the opportunity to offer that same love, and care, and intimacy to another.

despite wooyoung's fear, it excites him all the same. because he wants to know how it feels. he wants to relive the films and the novels and the songs which have revolved around him his entire nineteen years of life. he wants to love san, care for san, and express that through the beauty of just the two of them together.

someday close or not, he sure hopes the idea of that happening is plausible.

a knock pounds against the door to san's dorm. it's followed with another, before a voice calls out, a little muffled: "you better be up, choi!"

wooyoung's curiosity concerning the person on the other side of the door is discarded quicker than the next breath leaves his lungs, because he doesn't know what to do. he hasn't the faintest clue. how can he possibly disrupt san's sound sleep when he looks so glorious, as if he's dreaming about, i don't know, the seventh heavens? but the knocking only continues, wooyoung sparse of an idea different.

he frowns to himself. reluctant, he rubs the back of his fingers against the skin of san's cheek, edging closer to murmur, "sannie... sannie, i need you to wake up for me." wooyoung's hand slides down to san's shoulder, running up and down his arm. "c'mon..." he squeezes at his bicep.