My Significant Bother - WooSan

Chapter 16

Everyone files slowly out of the room after the auction. San gets up, too, following behind Yunho and Mingi, both bent together, whispering excitedly.

"San." He turns, eyebrows raised, to find Mrs. Davies looking at him expectantly, and then he remembers. "Oh, right." He quickly heads over to her, and she hands him the leftover money from the two hundred dollars he'd given her to bid on Wooyoung's piece. "Thank you." "I still don't fully understand why you couldn't bid yourself, but it wasn't a bother," she says with a wave of her hand. "You can take your painting whenever you'd like." "Is it okay if I leave it here until Thursday?" He doesn't want to bring it back to the room and have Wooyoung realize that he'd bought it. That'd defeat the whole purpose of having her bid for him. "I leave then, and this way I don't have to keep it in my room." "Of course, dear." "Thank you," San adds once more. This time she only waves him off, moving on to talk to someone else.

San pockets his money and leaves, heading for his room. It's thankfully empty when he gets there. That's what he'd planned, so he's grateful, even if it puts him off every time he comes home and Wooyoung's bed is unoccupied, or he's not sitting at the desk. Not that Wooyoung has to wait for San to come home like some obedient puppy, or his stay at home boyfriend or something, but whenever he is there when San gets back, it makes something warm bubble up inside of him.

He's a little nervous as he moves about the room, hanging up the Christmas lights he'd borrowed from the art room, ones that weren't needed for decoration. He also turns on the stereo, just a bit of soft music in the background, one of Wooyoung's CDs that he listens to a lot (and he knows Wooyoung hates it when San touches his stuff, but he thinks it might be okay, just this once). When he plugs in the lights and shuts off the overhead one, the room is cast in soft, glowing light. It looks romantic, or something. Not that San's good at romance, but he's trying and that has to count for something, right?

When he's done he takes out his phone, flitting through to his last contact. He'd gotten Wooyoung's number off Hongjoong weeks ago, not that he's used it. Hongjoong still teases him about it, and San's stopped arguing with him over it because Hongjoong's teasing is justified.

Remember how I asked to talk? Can u come to the room? It's San btw he sends, hands shaking just a bit. He's not going to get too excited over this, though. That'd be lame. But he does busy himself with pulling Wooyoung's gift out of his dresser, holding it tightly in his hands. It's not an expensive gift. It's just one of those lights that you stick on the top of your books so you can read in the dark. San figured it'd make his life easier, since he and Wooyoung constantly fight over Wooyoung keeping the light on to do work while San tries to sleep. And it didn't seem like an extravagant gift, either. Like something that he'd spent weeks picking out (even if he actually did).

Fifteen minutes pass without a reply or Wooyoung coming into the room, and San starts worrying, his lip between his teeth. Twenty minutes, and he starts pacing the room. Forty-five minutes later and he gets a short text that reads Sorry, I can't. My brother came to pick me up. I'm on my way home. Happy holidays.

San slowly blinks down at the screen. And then he gets up, tossing Wooyoung's present into the bottom drawer of the desk before he tears down the lights and crawls into bed, refusing to be upset about this. He should have known something like this would happen. San's always so stupid; Wooyoung knows it, and he knows it, too. Why would this be any different?

*****

Being at home, for Wooyoung, is like being able to breathe again. Even if the ride home hadn't been exactly pleasant. Four hours alone in a car with Jae and his shitty music...

But as soon as he's home, his mother hugs him and it makes up for the rest of it. He also gets to sleep. No matter how comfortable he gets in his dorm room, it's just not the same as being in his bed. Having an entire room to himself. No San snoring beside him. Blissfully, happily, wonderfully, completely alone. He can't imagine anything better. That's what he tells himself, at least, but that first night, even though he doesn't get home until about one in the morning, he lies awake for what feels like hours, the silence in the room unbearable.