↱SACCHARINE↲ ⇾woojoong⇽

bashful

[ ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]

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It took Wooyoung approximately ten seconds of standing outside the cafe for his senses to come flooding back along with a sickening feeling of a punch to his stomach.

He stared down the street in search of Hongjoong, fingers already itching for his keys and stash of money hidden away in the passenger compartment of his truck in preparation, when the reality of what he was doing finally managed to click.

He clenched his teeth shamefully and brought an arm up to lean against his truck, forehead pressing against the smooth metal that grounded him, reminded him of milky skin and wistful air and everything good and everything bad that could happen if he were to go through with his foolish plan.

Wooyoung knew he was unbearable at times, just like he knew his touches were annoyingly persistent and his heart craved attention in the worst moments.

He reeked of immaturity and lack of experience and the last thing he wanted was for Hongjoong to realize this himself, to see past his warm eyes and blinding smile that were the only reasons he had agreed so willingly.

Those must have been the reasons.

Wooyoung waited despite his trepidation, both eager and terrified as he fought off the urge to pick his nails and claw at his skin, cheeks turning pink against the gentle wind that sent chaos to erupt through his hair.

He forced his eyes shut blissfully.

He thought about calling San, explaining his disastrous plan with a breathless voice and jarred lungs, imagining the blue haired boy's excitement and disbelief at his best friend's boundless mind filled with questionable ideas.

Wooyoung had told San plenty about the boy he had saved that night, practically bouncing off the walls with wild gestures and giggly smiles that San had cooed over instantly, pinching Wooyoung's apple cheeks before they both fell asleep in a mass of tangled limbs on the couch.

Wooyoung had laughed all morning when San woke up with an ache in his neck from sleeping wrong, demanding with pouty lips and swollen eyes that it was Wooyoung's fault.

San knew how intrigued Wooyoung was with Hongjoong.

How he hadn't been able to get the boy out of his head since that night, oddly obsessed with the shape of his eyes and the obscurity of his laughter, this loud belting screech that made Wooyoung want to hold him, feel such a joyful noise build up from his chest.

San would understand where he was coming from, support his idea, Wooyoung was sure of it.

There was nothing to worry about.

Wooyoung reached for his phone in his back pocket and sent his roommate a hurried text, deciding it was better to tell San he wouldn't be home for dinner instead of giving the older an excuse to yell at him later.

He wasn't able to put his phone away before San started calling him, the simple ringtone sounding strangely rushed and insistent.

"You better be getting dicked down if you're seriously planning on ditching me this afternoon," San grunted the moment Wooyoung answered the call, tone boiling with tampered annoyance and slight betrayal, forcing Wooyoung to frown as he glanced longingly down the sidewalk again.