San was stuck in a fit of worry and uncertainty. With a million thoughts racing through his mind, and his body heaving as he swung across the city, all his feelings brought him back to Wooyoung. All his fears of losing someone, the idea that this could push Wooyoung away forever, swarmed San like angry hornets pumping venom through his veins.
He didn't know how he got here, but as he stood on the lightpost outside Wooyoung's apartment, his heart ached for one thing. For Wooyoung. To be told that Wooyoung's insecurities got the best of him, and he didn't care that San was sucking face with a supervillain. That all he wanted was for San to be his, and to dismiss the argument they had earlier that day.
San's imagination couldn't be further from the truth, and he knew that Wooyoung could hate him for this. Despite nothing being offical, espcially after their fight, San felt wholeheartedly committed to the boy. Well, he did, until his lips locked with Black Cat's for about two minutes and his world flipped entirely.
San shamefully crawled his way up the side of Wooyoung's apartment building. Staring through his window, he overlooked the cheap bed a small figure was resting on. It was either late at night or early in the morning, but Wooyoung was wide awake. His nose was stuck in a computer, while his fingers lazily typed away against his keyboard, though San swore he'd never seen someone breathing so heavy when all they were doing was typing.
With a gentle tap against the window, Wooyoung was pulled out of his daze, as his head shifted to point his eyes towards a nervously waving Spider-Man. The boy rolled his eyes before sitting up, stomping over, and opening the mechanism. "Do you know what time it is?" Wooyoung scowled, forcing the boy inside his apartment to presumably continue the lecture.
"I know, but I need to talk to you." San whipped off his mask, comfortably and quickly, setting it down on the dresser at his left.
"If this is about earlier, San, I think it can wait." As Wooyoung was catching his breath, San recognized that his demeanor had seemed different from the one he was met with earlier.
"No, it can't wait," San argued, and his hands still dressed in their gloves, cupped Wooyoung's. The younger seemed to flinch at this sudden motion, and his eyes peered up to lock with the desperation seeping from San's stare. "I like you, Wooyoung." San couldn't stop himself, he cared more than he could hide, and the guilt of not admitting this earlier had almost devoured San's sanity entirely.
Pulling himself back, his fingers slipped through the grasp. "San, you don't know what you're talking abo-"
"No!" San grabbed his hand once more, "I might not know everything about you, and I probably can only tell you something a stranger would know, but I want to be more than that. I want to know everything about you, Wooyoung. I care about you. But I want to let myself like you, even if I feel stupid and it's probably not mutual. There's a certain adrenaline I feel when I'm with you, and I'd rather die then let this end without telling you." San hadn't noticed how his confession seemed to resemble begging. And even though he could feel the tenseness in Wooyoung's hands spur, when their eyes locked, he knew it wasn't in vain. That he wasn't the only one who cared. And the once bitter boy, had melted. He was staring through a gloss of water that threatened to soak his cheeks. "Just give me a chance, Wooyoung."
The two stood in silence as the younger's body didn't move. He seemed frozen in place, as if he was processing every emotion at once.
"San," he trembled, "I don't know if I'm a good person." While the two stood, hand in hand, with gazes that relished in each other's presence, San could sense the distance between them. Wooyoung was scared, he began to choke on his words. "I," he began again, unable to croak out anything more.
