Cw// Fluff, dance trainee wy and sn, team mates to lovers
Written at @maria_sptaru2 request 🤗❤️
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San was never the loud one in the room. Not when there were people like Wooyoung in it - bold, buzzing with energy, always moving, always laughing, always shining like the morning sun that lighted up everyone's bad days. But it was the time for the monthly evaluation for the trainees in the company, and San found himself partnered with the two people who could not be more different from him for a unit performance: Yeosang - the calm, mature, the kind of presence that felt like a quiet hug, and Wooyoung - the unique whirlwind of charm and chaos.
Yeosang tried to draw San out at first by casually checking in, gently asking for input on their dance routine. Wooyoung, on the other hand, had no filters. He constantly searched for fun, dragging both Yeosang and San into playful banter (which San most of the time wanted to stay out of), bouncing around the studio like he had enough energy to power the whole Seoul city.
Meanwhile, San... barely made eye contact. He nodded. Mumbled answers. Hid behind choreo sheets and practice mirrors whenever Wooyoung tried to make small talk with him.
That's all because San had a little secret within him; a secret that San would rather jump out of the practice room's window than tell his dance mates.
He was hopelessly, quietly, deeply crushing on... Wooyoung. Every burst of laughter from Wooyoung, every unintentional brush of their fingers during practice, every sudden eye contact, every compliment - even the backhanded ones from the smaller boy - made San's heart feel like it was racing at competition speed. But he was drowning in his silence to protect his heart.
One day, when Wooyoung and Yeosang invited San out for lunch after the first practice session, he panicked. "You guys go ahead without me. I don't feel like going out today. Besides, I am not that hungry," he blurted out in panic, words too fast.
Wooyoung narrowed his eyes and tilted his head but didn't press. "Okay... But I'm bringing you something delicious. You need energy to dance, so don't even try to stop me!" He latched onto Yeosang's arm and skipped out with a grin. Yeosang looked back and smiled warmly at San, which San returned; but with less sincerity.
San watched them leave, the ache blooming in his chest like a bruise at Wooyoung's hand gripping Yeosang's. He leaned against the practice mirror and sighed, eyes closing with disappointment at his own self. "I wish it was me instead," he whispered.
