Gangland Honey || WOOSAN

11 | ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ

San's POV

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

𝔸 warm, soft pressure was weighed down his shoulder when he awoke. San almost flinched and took his gun from the bedside table drawer, though swiftly recalled who was in bed with him.

It was still early; still the usual time he awoke just before the first light peaked over the horizon. Wooyoung, though, was asleep and tangled around his side. San didn't like clingy partners. Sex was sex, so he didn't see why some thought it necessary or desirable to display affection afterward.

There may have been nothing akin to sex involved last night, though Wooyoung had clung to him the entire time. San found he was quite content with this position.

Using his hand that wasn't trapped under holding Wooyoung around the waist, San took Wooyoung's hand resting on his chest to test another theory. San brought Wooyoung's hand up to his face, splayed the palm out and cupped it around his cheek.

The only other person who he'd let touch his face like this was Jongho, and that was when they were younger and his brother had been trying to get him to smile by pulling his cheeks up. San had not been very skilled at feigning smiles back then, though he had put more effort into practicing over these more recent years.

He liked the feeling of Wooyoung's hand on his face, San discerned. With Jongho he tolerated the unreciprocating touching, even if at times he was certain Jongho did it merely to irritate him.

With Wooyoung though...

San recalled yesterday's events, before that clusterfuck at the art store. He'd imagined a few times over the year, tying Wooyoung up and making him cry; the speculation of what he would be like had become a somewhat concerning, consuming fascination of late. And San had liked the sight of Wooyoung tied up and under him on the bed, though the fact that he had obviously upset Wooyoung had dampened it.

The reasons and feelings that incited reactions had never bothered San, other than his intermittent curiosity of understanding what a particular emotion meant or felt like, though Wooyoung crying from so-called negative emotions, caused by him, were particularly unpalatable.

He hadn't hurt Wooyoung – even though binding him and keeping him in place without resorting to harsher and painful methods had been incredibly difficult when Wooyoung refused to behave and stay still.

Even though he sometimes questioned Wooyoung's reasoning and dramatics, he knew for a fact that Wooyoung was not an idiot, and actually rather astute. So San thought Wooyoung would've understood why he'd had to do all of that at the dorm yesterday. And from that to suddenly going quiet in the car; becoming agreeable, which was at least more convenient and San assumed Wooyoung had finally understood the reasonable way to act. But then late in the night Wooyoung showed up at his door, burst into tears and hugged him.

San had thought that Wooyoung might've still been annoyed at him. He definitely did not understand. Perhaps he should ask Mingi.

The only sentiment that surpassed his confusion was his annoyance at himself for not being able to stop that pirate from getting so close to Wooyoung. Taeyeon had said the wound was not serious, though Wooyoung had been injured nonetheless. That was not meant to happen. 

Thinking back to the art shop debacle made San recall that Wooyoung hadn't ended up being able to bring back those supplies.

His phone buzzed, snapping San out of his cogitations. Slowly and quietly, so as not to disturb Wooyoung, San returned his hand and eased out of bed.