A Place to Belong - Woosan

{ 23 - Unspoken Fears }

San woke to the warmth of Wooyoung's body curled around him, the steady rhythm of his breathing brushing against the back of his neck. For a moment, he let himself exist in it—the quiet intimacy, the feeling of being held without expectation or demand. It was a comfort so unfamiliar that it almost felt foreign.

But then the awareness crept in.

This was real. Last night had happened.

His chest tightened.

He could feel Wooyoung stirring beside him, his grip instinctively tightening for just a second before he let out a sleepy groan. Then, with a lazy stretch, he nuzzled into the pillow, his voice rough with sleep as he murmured, "Morning, gorgeous."

San let out a short, breathy laugh, more an exhale than anything else. "Don't start."

Wooyoung cracked one eye open, an easy smile pulling at his lips. "Too late."

There was no hesitation in him, no uncertainty. He stretched again and then turned fully onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at San properly. His gaze was soft, but there was a sharpness beneath it—one that said he noticed things. San forced himself to relax under the weight of it, hoping it wasn't obvious how tangled his thoughts had become.

"I'm gonna make coffee," Wooyoung announced, his tone light as if the world hadn't changed overnight. "I'm feeling very magnanimous this morning, so you might even get the first cup."

San exhaled, grateful for the normalcy Wooyoung was offering. "How generous of you."

"I know." Wooyoung rolled out of bed and stretched his arms above his head before padding toward the kitchen, already humming a tune under his breath. San watched him go, something tugging at his chest. He should follow, join him, let the warmth of the morning settle into something comfortable.

Instead, he let himself sink back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling as his mind caught up to everything.

It was too easy. That's what scared him.

Because nothing in his life had ever been this easy, especially not love. His last relationship had been a lesson in how quickly things could fall apart, in how devastating it was to let someone in, only for them to walk away when it mattered most. He'd been sure he had nothing left to give after that, that he wasn't capable of feeling this kind of attachment again.

Yet here he was.

San clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe through the weight pressing against his ribs. He needed space. Just a little. Just enough to make sure he wasn't diving headfirst into something he wasn't ready for. He couldn't afford to make the same mistakes again.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face before standing. By the time he made it to the kitchen, Wooyoung was already leaning against the counter, a mug in his hands, looking up with an expression that was just a little too knowing.

San cleared his throat, reaching for the second mug without meeting Wooyoung's eyes. "Thanks."

Wooyoung didn't say anything for a moment. Then, after a sip of coffee, he said, "You're thinking too much."

San froze, fingers tightening around the ceramic. "I'm just—"

"I'm not asking you for an explanation," Wooyoung interrupted gently. "Just... don't disappear on me, yeah?"

San swallowed hard, caught between the instinct to retreat and the quiet plea in Wooyoung's voice. He wanted to say something, to reassure him, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he nodded, forcing a small smile.

"I won't. I'm trying."

Wooyoung studied him for another beat, then, as if deciding to let it go, he grinned. "Good. Now finish your coffee before I make fun of you for having an existential crisis before 9 a.m."

San huffed a laugh, grateful for the out, but the weight in his chest didn't quite lift. Because Wooyoung knew him too well. Because he wasn't sure if he could keep that promise.

Truthfully, part of him was already searching for the nearest exit. He was trying to push down the fear deep inside, but he could feel the panic attack creeping up in his brain.

Wooyoung set his mug down, stepping closer. His voice was softer this time. "San, talk to me. What's going on in that overactive brain of yours?"

San took a sip of his coffee to stall, but the warmth did little to settle the cold creeping into his limbs. "It's nothing. Just... thinking."

Wooyoung cocked his head, unconvinced. "Well, I can see that. About what?"

San hesitated, gripping the edge of the counter. His thoughts were a tangled mess—fear, longing, the urge to run, the guilt of wanting to stay. It was all too much, pressing against his chest like a weight he couldn't shake.

"I don't know," he finally muttered, hoping it would be enough.

Wooyoung sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before crossing his arms. "Okay. Let's try this: Do you regret last night?"

San's eyes snapped to his. "What? No."

That much, at least, was true. He didn't regret it. He just didn't know what to do with it.

Wooyoung's lips pressed together, studying him. "Then what is it? Because you look like you're about to bolt, and I need to know if I should block the door."

A shaky breath left San before he could stop it. His fingers curled tighter around the counter. "I'm just..." He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself. "I don't know how to do this."

Wooyoung took a step closer, his expression gentle but serious. "Do what?"

San motioned vaguely between them. "This. You. Us."

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then Wooyoung nodded, as if he understood something San hadn't even said yet. "San," he said carefully, "you don't have to have all the answers right now."

San clenched his jaw, the panic still thrumming just beneath the surface. "And what if I never have them?"

Wooyoung smiled—small, understanding. "Then we figure it out together. This, us," he gestured between them, "It's not supposed to be hard, just be present. We can talk it through together, there is no rules but the ones we make together." 

San looked away, his throat tight. The reassurance should have helped, but it only made the weight in his chest heavier. It sounded too simple. Too easy. And things never stayed easy.

Wooyoung reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against San's wrist, grounding him. "Hey," he said softly, "just... stay. Have breakfast with me. One thing at a time, okay?"

San hesitated, everything in him still screaming to retreat, but he nodded. "Okay."

Wooyoung didn't press for more. He just gave a small smile, picking up his coffee again like nothing had shifted. But San knew better. Something had. The terrifying part was that he didn't know if he could hold onto it.

He'd felt secure like this before, and then the bottom fell out. His brain knew it wasn't the same as before, but his emotions and adrenaline were winning the argument at the moment.