flutedrum | woosan ✓

46

Wooyoung sat on a bench under the familiar oak tree in the park, the one where they used to meet during their trainee days when everything felt simpler. It was late, the night air cool against his skin, and the park was almost deserted. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity until, finally, he saw San approaching.

San looked tired, his shoulders slouched and his face tight with tension. Wooyoung's heart sank further—he hadn't realized just how much he'd hurt him. San came to a stop in front of him, standing there for a moment before slowly sitting down on the bench.

Neither of them spoke at first. The air between them was thick with everything left unsaid.

"You called," San finally broke the silence, his voice strained but soft. "What do you want to talk about?"

Wooyoung took a deep breath, finally standing up to speak for himself. "I'm sorry."

San blinked, taken aback. "Sorry? For what?"

"For everything," Wooyoung said, his voice trembling. "For pushing you away, for not listening, for making you feel like all your efforts were for nothing. I've been so caught up in my own shit that I didn't see what you were trying to do. You guys freed us from that company, and I—we didn't even thank you for it. We didn't even appreciate it."

San was silent, his eyes on the ground. Wooyoung's heart pounded in his chest, but he knew he had to keep going. He just needed this to end. He desperately needed San beside him. All to himself.

"I know I've been selfish. I know I hurt you. But I never meant to, San. I swear, I never meant to push you away. I was just...scared. Scared that if I let myself forgive you, it would mean everything we went through, everything we lost—it would mean it was okay. But it's not okay, and I didn't know how to deal with that."

San's expression softened, and he finally looked up, his eyes meeting Wooyoung's. "You think I didn't feel the same way?" he asked quietly. "I've been terrified, Wooyoung. Terrified that after everything I did, you wouldn't want me anymore. That you wouldn't be able to look at me the same way because of what I-we did to your company, to your group."

Wooyoung shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. So he was right after all. And he hated the fact his intrusive thoughts were actually right this time. "But you didn't destroy anything, San. You saved us. Your group saved us. We were being controlled, manipulated. We didn't even know it. You freed us, and I couldn't even see it because I was too wrapped up in my own guilt."

San's face twisted with emotion, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you, Wooyoung. I did what I thought was right, but I didn't realize how much it would cost you—how much it would cost us."

Wooyoung felt a tear slip down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. "I know, I know. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You guys didn't want to hurt any of us. And I was wrong to make you feel like you did. But I don't want to keep hurting each other. I don't want to keep running away from this."

San's eyes filled with tears, and before Wooyoung knew it, San was reaching out, his hand gently brushing against Wooyoung's arm. "I don't want to run anymore either," he whispered.

Wooyoung felt a sob rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down, nodding. "Then let's stop running."

For a long moment, Wooyoung just stared at him, his emotions swirling in a confusing mess of anger, sadness, and longing. But then, something shifted. Maybe it was the way San's eyes held nothing but pure, unfiltered emotion. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled ever so slightly with each word. Or maybe it was the simple fact that, despite everything, despite the hurt and the betrayal, Wooyoung still loved him.

San's breath hitched, his hands coming up to hold Wooyoung's wrists gently, as if afraid he might pull away. "Then don't leave," he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. "Stay with me, Wooyoung. Please."

Wooyoung let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against San's. "I'm still angry... but I can't keep running from this. From you."

San's grip tightened just slightly, grounding them both in the moment. "We'll figure it out. I promise. Just...don't give up, alright? Please?"

"We're going to be okay," San whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Wooyoung closed his eyes, allowing himself to believe it, if only for a moment. "Yeah... I guess we will."

San hesitated for a moment before pulling Wooyoung into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around him. Without thinking, Wooyoung stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. His hands trembled as he reached up to cup San's face, his eyes searching San's for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was the same vulnerability, the same determination, and it broke down the last of his defenses. Wooyoung let out a shaky breath, burying his face in San's shoulder. It felt like the weight of the past month was finally lifting off his chest.

"I'm sorry," San whispered again, his voice muffled against Wooyoung's shirt. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Wooyoung murmured back, clinging to him. "I never wanted to lose you, San."

"You won't," San replied, his voice firm despite the tears. "You never will."

For a long time, they just sat there, holding each other, neither of them wanting to let go. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Wooyoung felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

When they finally pulled apart, San wiped his eyes and smiled softly. "So...Japanese barbecue?"

Wooyoung let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Oh god yes. You know I can't resist that."

San's smile widened, and for the first time in a long time, the tension between them was gone. The hurt, the anger—it was still there, but it wasn't the only thing anymore. There was something else now. Something better.

Wooyoung nodded, his tears finally spilling over, but this time, they weren't just tears of anger or sadness. There was something else there too—relief, hope, and the possibility of healing.

Slowly, as if testing the waters, Wooyoung closed the remaining distance between them, pressing his lips to San's in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn't passionate or perfect. It was messy, filled with the weight of everything unsaid, but it was real.

San kissed him back, his arms wrapping around Wooyoung, holding him close as if he were afraid to let go. In that moment, all the anger, all the pain seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them, standing together in the aftermath of their storm.

When they finally pulled apart, Wooyoung rested his head against San's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding, reminding him that no matter how difficult things had been, they still had each other.

And Wooyoung knew, deep down, that this was the start of them finally healing.