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The practice room was filled with the dull hum of the speakers and the sound of Wooyoung’s and the dancers shoes sliding against the wooden floor. Sweat dampened the smaller boy's shirt, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. Every time he thought he nailed the move, a flicker of doubt crept in. 'What if it wasn’t good enough? What if his solo didn’t live up to the other members?'
“Break time~ I brought energy drinks for everyone!” Wooyoung froze mid-step. That voice! The instant it reached him, it was like someone had lifted a heavy stone from his chest. He whipped around to see San holding a bag of chilled bottles, his smile soft but steady, eyes searching for Wooyoung first before anyone else.
The dancers cheered and rushed over to grab the bag of drinks, but Wooyoung didn’t focused on the beverage. Instead, without thinking, he ran straight at San and threw his arms around him. “San-ah!” His voice cracked, relief spilling out in a single breath. The hug was tight, sudden, his face pressed against San’s shoulder. It felt like San had heard the storm inside his head and shown up at the exact moment he needed him most—like magic.
San laughed softly, surprised but wrapping his arms around Wooyoung's waist in return. “Hey, hey… I knew you’d be burning yourself out,” he murmured against his hair, rubbing a soothing hand down his back. “So I came to check on you.” Wooyoung pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes shining with fondness. His chest buzzed with a new kind of energy—fueled not by caffeine, but by the comfort of San’s presence. “You always know when I need you. How?” he asked quietly, cheeks warming. San only grinned as he handed him a bottle. “I don’t know. I suddenly missed you, and the next second—I was here.” Wooyoung stared at San’s face for one more beat before hugging him tightly again. “Thank you. I needed that,” he whispered. “I know, chagi. Don’t feel too stressed. I’ll stay until you finish.” San patted his back, feeling the smile forming against his shoulder.
After the break, Wooyoung started practicing again with the crew, his body lighter, his heart steady—because San was there. From the doorway, San leaned against the frame, his eyes following Wooyoung’s every step. As the music replayed, San quietly started singing along, his voice barely audible over the beat. Wooyoung caught his reflection in the mirror—San smiling, eyes warm, mouthing the lyrics like it was his own song. Wooyoung felt a boost of energy just from the sight.
When Wooyoung finally faltered with a sigh, San stepped forward without hesitation, mimicking the choreography with exaggerated flair. “You’re seriously the coolest when you do this,” he said, twirling dramatically before joining Wooyoung at the center. “Sexy, powerful, everything. Young-ah, you have no idea how insane you look while dancing.” Wooyoung shook his head, embarrassed, as the dancers cooed at San’s fond admiration from the back of the room. Still, he couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from tugging upward. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.” “No,” San replied, eyes shining with certainty. “Out of all eight solos, yours is my favorite~” Wooyoung smiled and gave San’s chest a light hit with his fist, pouting softly. Without a single word coming out of his mouth, his face said everything—how grateful he truly was.
It was past midnight when the dancers finally wrapped up for the night, bidding goodnight to the two soulmates before leaving them alone in the quiet practice room. Wooyoung collapsed onto the floor, his limbs sprawling out in an X, his breaths heavy but releasing some of the weight he carried. Without a word, San lay down beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
Their gazes met, unhurried, steady. San’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so proud of you, Young-ah. You’re the coolest when you perform like that.” “You really think so?” Wooyoung asked, smiling through his exhaustion, his eyes flickering with newfound confidence.
“Of course,” San's lips curling into a grin. “You know I never lie to you—especially about the things you do with your heart.” "Also..” San whispered softly, “I’ll always be your sign to remind you that you’re never alone in this.”
The next moment, San propped himself up slightly, leaning over Wooyoung. The necklace around his neck slipped out from under his t-shirt, dangling just above Wooyoung’s lips. Wooyoung blinked, recognizing it instantly—the very necklace he had given San on his last birthday. His cheeks flushed, heart hammering.
“You even wore that today…” he murmured, voice catching as he caressed across the metal tag. San smiled, soft and knowing, but Wooyoung’s hands moved before he thought. He gently tugged on the chain, pulling San closer, and pressed the quickest kiss to his lips. His whisper trembled but carried all the weight in his chest. “Thank you, San-ah. I’m so blessed we crossed paths. I’m glad you found me.”
San’s chest tightened, warmth overflowing. He lowered himself fully, wrapping Wooyoung in his arms, their legs tangling naturally. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, voice low and full of fondness. “Thank you for adopting my introvert ass and letting me love you. I love you, my Youngie. And again—so, so proud of you.”
Wooyoung buried his face against San’s shoulder, his words muffled but clear. “I love you too, my buffy catboy~” His hand mischievously slipped under San’s shirt to his side, making him squeal with high-pitched giggles that echoed through the empty room. Wooyoung laughed, the heaviness in his chest easing with every sound.
Lying there, tangled together, Wooyoung realized what he had always known—San was his strength. No matter how tired he felt, San’s laughter, San’s arms, San’s unwavering faith in him gave him energy to keep going. And tonight, more than ever, Wooyoung felt grateful for the sign—that gentle reminder—that he never had to walk alone, not with San by his side.
