SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan

51

wooyoung leans his head against the glass pane of the window beside him. his stare is blank as he takes in the bustling highway before him, and there's this heavy feeling in his chest he can't seem to get rid of.

the low rumble of san's engine can barely be distinguished amongst the hundreds of other vehicles surrounding them, that's how busy it is this evening. though he's too stubborn to admit it, wooyoung is — only somewhat — grateful of how persistent san was a few hours back to make it to the airport earlier than necessary. if it wasn't for his pestering, he'd be exceptionally late to his flight, and only god knows how his best friends would react to that news.

a substantial fraction of wooyoung, however, wouldn't mind taking that risk.

he doesn't want to go home. the past few days have been absolutely magical, nothing but a real life utopia, and he doesn't want to leave the solace of which he has experienced within them. he doesn't want to leave san.

but he has to. he has to return to his regular life, back in canada, and he has to let san do the same, here in korea. five thousand miles apart.

it's painful, but wooyoung knows this is something they're going to have to grow accustomed to. that doesn't mean he's any more fond of the thought, though.

of course, he's still going to have san, and whatever san is to him right now isn't going to change just because of the stupidly long distance between them. but that distance, that distance is terrifying to wooyoung. terrifying. and he isn't looking forward to that terror one single bit.

why does it have to be like this? why can't he just stay with san, eating overly expensive ice cream, hugging beneath the covers in a peaceful silence, and teasing the life out of each other for the rest of eternity? why can't they be like kevin and jacob, or seonghwa and hongjoong? why can't they just be together all the time?

the answer is simple, wooyoung doesn't need to be reminded of it more than his mind already does for him, but it's so incredibly frustrating to accept all the same.

panning his gaze over to san, wooyoung looks up from the free hand on his lap to his eyes, which are focused on the road — slightly narrowed in concentration. then, he looks down again, before swiftly curling his fingers around the latter's.

san smiles, small yet as genuine as it can be. his eyes soften, too, as he holds their hands up to his chest. the left side of his chest, wooyoung notices, where his heart lies.

"you're quieter than usual today," san mentions gently, glancing over to wooyoung for a second. "everything okay?"

"yeah," wooyoung says, and even he himself isn't sure whether he's lying or not. "yeah, i'm okay, sannie."

his hand receives a quick squeeze. wooyoung can't decipher the purpose behind san's gesture, but he finds he really, really likes it. he really, really likes san. and maybe he likes even more that he's finally able to admit so to himself, without that twisted surge of guilt ruthlessly engulfing his entire being. wooyoung likes san, and that is so okay.

it doesn't make him a bad person, it doesn't make him a traitor, it doesn't make him this cruel, heartless monster he was secretly convinced he was becoming. if anything, it makes wooyoung human, feeling these emotions again; in whatever form, loving is a natural, humane thing to do.

faster than wooyoung wants, the car comes to a slow halt. he looks up, eyes darting around to see them cramped within a huge parking lot, outside a towering building he's gained utmost hatred for in the past few hours.

wooyoung wants to cry. his palm is clammy when he releases it from san's, and his stomach churns when he steps out of the car. the light breeze rippling against his skin is especially refreshing after the stuffiness of the long drive, yet that same stuffiness wooyoung would now willingly endure if it means he could stay by san's side for longer.