Whispers of Desire || Woosan🔞

25: PEACE

LONG TIME NO SEE😭😭😭 I'M SO SORRY LOVIES 😢

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

The day unfolded gently, just like the warmth still lingering from their shared morning. After breakfast, San had kissed Wooyoung on the forehead, mumbled something about meetings, and left for work. The house felt quieter without him, but Wooyoung didn’t mind. He spent the rest of his morning lounging on the couch in San’s hoodie, scrolling through messages from Felix and Jisung, who were already teasing him about how he hadn’t replied for hours.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, San walked into his office building with an ease he hadn’t known he could carry. His staff noticed it, too. He was smiling. Genuinely smiling.

He greeted the receptionist with a slight nod, offered the security team a rare, good-natured smirk, and even held the elevator door open for someone who was running late. It wasn’t like him. But he didn’t care.

Because something inside him had shifted. A quiet, slow-burning happiness had taken root and refused to be ignored. And the source of it? A boy with stars in his eyes and sunlight in his smile. A boy who giggled over toast and leaned into his embrace like it was the safest place in the world. A boy who now occupied more of San’s mind than any strategy or mission ever had.

He entered his office, dropped his briefcase on the desk, and sat back in his chair, letting out a slow exhale. The room fell silent around him, but the image of Wooyoung—half-asleep, pouting in his hoodie—lingered in his thoughts.

He chuckled quietly to himself.

San barely got through half of his emails before Hongjoong barged in without knocking. Classic.

"You’re late for the tactical meeting," Hongjoong said, arching a brow.

San looked up, blinking as if he was pulled from a dream. "Right. I’ll be there in five."

Hongjoong didn’t move. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Don’t you think you’re too happy lately?" he asked, the edge in his voice softened by genuine concern.

San tilted his head, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Is that a crime now?"

Hongjoong walked in and sat across from him. "No, but it’s suspicious. You’ve been distracted. You smile at nothing. You miss meetings. You didn’t even notice when the deal from Busan went sideways last week. That’s not like you."

San sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Hongjoong continued, his tone more serious now. "Just don’t let this change you. And more importantly, don’t let it make you forget why we started all of this in the first place. Stay focused."

San nodded slowly. "I hear you."

Hongjoong stood, patting his shoulder on the way out. "Don’t mess it up."

But San didn’t think much of it. His world had begun to shift, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to stop it.

---

Time, as it tends to do when hearts are full, moved faster than anyone could measure. Days folded into nights. Weeks passed like whispers.

A full month had rolled by since that soft morning where it all truly began. And in that time, a quiet, unfolding love began to bloom in the spaces between.

San and Wooyoung slipped into a rhythm that felt so natural it was as if they had always been this way. Their mornings started with sleepy kisses and shared showers. Their evenings ended with laughter, warm meals, and sometimes late-night confessions whispered into each other’s skin.

San was still busy, yes. His empire didn’t slow down for love. But he made space. Somehow, without being told, he carved room into his life for Wooyoung—like making space in a full suitcase for a treasure too important to leave behind.

And Wooyoung? He flourished.

School was better than ever. Felix and Jisung, his partners-in-chaos, noticed the glow on his face long before he said anything. He looked brighter. Smiled more. Laughed so much, it made them laugh, too.

Their group chats were full of nonsense again. Weekend plans. Random memes. Complaints about math. But underneath it all, they were happy. All of them.

San didn’t shield Wooyoung from luxury. He didn’t hide his wealth or the doors his name could open. But he didn’t flaunt it, either. He took Wooyoung shopping on weekends, letting him pick what he liked. Designer jackets, shoes that glimmered slightly under the store lights, limited-edition accessories. And sometimes, nothing. Sometimes, they just walked hand-in-hand through expensive galleries, pretending to judge paintings they didn’t understand.

Other weekends were reserved for dates. Expensive, yes. But intimate. Thoughtful.

One night, he booked out an entire rooftop garden and they had dinner under a blanket of stars. Wooyoung wore a black suit that San had picked out, his face glowing under the fairy lights. They danced slowly, alone but content. It wasn’t a night for heavy conversations. Just soft touches. Gentle eye contact. Silent promises.

In all those quiet, golden moments, Wooyoung found something he didn’t know he was searching for.

Peace.

He didn’t have to fight for attention. He didn’t have to beg for warmth. San gave it freely. He was still possessive, yes. Still intense. But he held Wooyoung with a care that said, You are mine, but I am yours too.

The mansion began to feel like home. The silence didn’t echo as loudly when San wasn’t there. Auntie’s meals. The occasional check-ins from Yeonjun. San’s cologne lingering on hoodies Wooyoung loved to steal. It all stitched together into a place that felt safe.

And love—it didn’t crash into them like a wave.

It grew slowly.

In quiet mornings. In passing glances. In the way San would text, Are you home safe? even though Yeonjun had already confirmed it.

In the way Wooyoung would say, Come back soon, even when he pretended not to care.

Everything was falling into place.

Wooyoung was glowing a lot, and he felt at peace.