Whispers of Desire || Woosan🔞

24: Morning glory

........ummmm, so I'm back for a while before I go mia on you guys

              ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. A quiet stillness lingered in the air, broken only by the sound of gentle breathing and the occasional creak of bedsheets shifting under the warmth of tangled bodies.

San stirred first, eyes fluttering open as he slowly adjusted to the light. For a moment, he simply lay there, his arm draped protectively over Wooyoung’s waist. The younger's back was pressed against his chest, his soft breathing rhythmic and calm.

A fond smile crept onto San’s lips.

His gaze roamed across Wooyoung’s peaceful face—lashes fanned delicately across his cheeks, lips slightly parted, skin glowing faintly in the morning light. He looked like something out of a dream. So pure, so serene.

San shifted carefully, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better view of the boy curled up beside him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair away from Wooyoung’s forehead before leaning down, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

“Good morning, Princess,” he whispered, his voice still husky with sleep.

To his surprise, Wooyoung stirred, eyes fluttering open. He blinked up at San, still groggy, and blinked again, adjusting to the sight of the elder hovering above him.

Before San could say anything else, Wooyoung reached up with both arms, pulled him close by the neck, and kissed him.

It was soft at first—unexpected and sweet. San’s breath hitched in surprise, but he quickly melted into it, his hand cradling the side of Wooyoung’s face. The kiss deepened, becoming slower, more deliberate. A silent exchange of feelings they couldn’t yet voice.

There was no rush, no urgency—just heat and quiet reverence in the way their lips moved. As if they were memorizing each other’s rhythm all over again.

Wooyoung shifted slightly, guiding San to lay over him, never once breaking the kiss. Their bodies found each other with ease, fitting perfectly together. It was warm. It was intimate. It was different.

San’s fingers skimmed across Wooyoung’s side, gentle and exploratory. Their legs intertwined under the sheets as the air around them grew heavier. Every touch was drawn-out, every kiss unhurried. There was no need to speak—everything was said in the way they held each other.

And somewhere between soft whispers, slow movements, and tender exchanges, San felt something stir in his chest.

Something deeper.

This wasn't just about physical attraction. It was the way Wooyoung looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, the way his body responded with such trust, such surrender. It was the way their hearts beat in near-perfect unison as they moved together under the morning sun.

San’s brows furrowed slightly as he kissed along Wooyoung’s jawline, trailing soft kisses down his neck.

Why did this feel so… different?

Why did he suddenly feel so full?

His heart wasn’t racing—it was calm. Settled.

Like he’d found something he didn’t know he was searching for.

As they laid there afterwards, tangled in each other’s arms once again, San stared up at the ceiling, one arm still securely around Wooyoung’s waist.