LOST AND FOUND, woosan

12 : yearning

the riptide thrashing against san's abdomen has yet to cease. despite how much he's prayed for the nauseating weight to disappear, the vigorous waves refuse to withdraw from his insides, as if revolted by the mere concept of giving him a break. san reckons the affliction is inscribed like black and white across his features — the extra distance his peers ensure to maintain from him, his teachers' silently troubled looks lingering in his direction, the warm presence awaiting him as the school day comes to a finish.

"hey," wooyoung says softly, the door to san's math class closing behind them. he smiles tightly, his cheeks round.

san doesn't mind the latter addition too much. his shoulders loosen, almost instantly, finding a sudden wash of serenity due to the male before him. "hi, wooyoung." a notch of contentment stretches his voice. however, he fails to match wooyoung's expression; and faking it just feels wrong.

whether wooyoung notices or not remains an enigma, for he only winds an arm around san's shoulders. he follows along as san begins toward his locker. "how were things today?"

heart dilating at the mindful question, san hums for a short time, quiet and contemplative. "it's been... okay," he concludes dully. twisting his locker open, san lets out a small breath, almost tiresome.

wooyoung's gaze follows san's fingers, fumbling with his notebooks. he perks up with a suggestion, "do you wanna do something together?"

"oh. like what?"

wooyoung shrugs. "anything. i could come over, or we could hang at my place. whatever you'd like."

"can we... go to yours?" san asks quietly. seonghwa works longer hours on fridays, and his customers often become quite rowdy — san couldn't bare dealing with their noise after such a draining day. his eyes widen out of nervousness, and he doesn't know why. wooyoung says it's okay, so why can't he just believe him?

"sure, we can, sannie."

"i— i have something i need to do first, actually," san announces, stammering. wooyoung spares him a questioning look, prompting him to elaborate. "my volleyball coach — he wants to see me."

conflict meshes with wooyoung's features. "is that a good thing, or...?"

"i don't know." san sighs, pressing his eyes shut briefly. "probably not."

"then, i'll come with you," wooyoung insists, bordering on an outright demand. his grip on san's shoulder tightens, holding him vigilantly as he examines the doubtful tension clenching his cheekbones. something in wooyoung's tone shifts. "would that help, baby?"

san doesn't need to think before he nods his head yes.

wooyoung practically fastens himself to san's shoulder, the quietness from the empty corridors echoing their synchronised footsteps against the walls. the proximity of their bodies reminds san of wooyoung's words only a few days earlier.

i'm here, and there's not a single thing you're going to do about it.

frankly, san is rather surprised that wooyoung has indeed stuck to his promise — if he could call it that. since, well, everything, wooyoung has made it his very own duty to be there for him as much as is possible. though san would argue excessively that he always has and nothing is obliged to change, he keeps the thought to himself, because he's found that they're spending more time together than they ever have. even in a hugely miserable episode, san finds no fault in that.

halting before the door to the sports office, wooyoung fondles a hand across the skin of san's jaw. "i'll wait out here for you, okay?"

anxiously strenuous, san nods. the quivering breath he undergoes tugs concern out of wooyoung, noticeably through the frown dilapidating his features; san squeezes the hand hanging from his shoulder, both assuring wooyoung that his worry isn't needed and assembling the confidence to budge from his side.