There is a mention of a situation dealing with panic/anxiety. Please do not read any further if that topic is sensitive to you.

⸻⸻ .·:*¨༺ ♛ ♡ ∞ ♡ ♛ ༻¨*:·. ⸻⸻

San can't believe the words dangling in the space between them as he sits on the cold floor with rapidly blinking eyes and confusion lingering beyond his expression. Wooyoung didn't need his permission to hug him, San honestly would never mind, but it seemed possible that he was asking himself for permission. San knew the limits to Wooyoung's boundaries partially, but Wooyoung didn't completely outline anything. San just knew he was hesitant about being touched and being too personal, so he never pushed unless Wooyoung did it himself.

But, right here; right now? San feels his arms drifting upwards wordlessly, out reaching and open for Wooyoung as he silently looks at him.

Wooyoung doesn't know how to feel or how to act, mind going numb as he watches his friend hopelessly sit before him with his arms open. God, he really did not want to be touched, but something in his stomach ached for a warm hug just this once.

Before he knows it, Wooyoung finds himself slowly leaning forwards, shifting his sitting position to his knees as he reaches forwards, carefully landing within San's arms. Wooyoung is incredibly timid for a moment, shoulders tense and body rigid, and the moment San's arms warm his sides and his eyes close, the pain floods back intensely.

His face finds San's shoulder, arms nervously reaching around his friend until he finds the back of San's shirt, gripping the material gently with tears leaking from his eyes. San's hands finally land on Wooyoung's back, afraid to pull him any closer. But Wooyoung wills to bring himself closer, nudging his face into the crook of San's neck as he cries.

"I've got you." San whispers softly, feeling Wooyoung grip his shirt even tighter.

They sit there like this for a couple of minutes, San's hands gently moving up Wooyoung's spine before gently sliding back down. The cries of the younger slowly subside as time passes, leaning into San's shoulder with his face wet with tears and his mind tired of fighting the same mental battle for the last two years.

San doesn't dare to leave or move, nor does he feel like he ever could.

"San'ah?" Wooyoung's voice is dry and fragile, not moving away from the elder's shoulder.

"Yes, Woo?"

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"You don't have to be sorry." San feels Wooyoung slightly smile against his skin.

"I don't want you to get wrapped up in my bullshit." Wooyoung weakly admits, head tilting to the side slightly to speak a bit more clearly.

"We're friends, Woo. Your bullshit is my bullshit. My bullshit is yours, if you want it to be."

"I don't want you to worry."

"Worrying comes with the friendship," San reassures, feeling as Wooyoung's grip on his shirt slowly fades away, but he never leaves San's arms.

"You sound like Seonghwa."

"He and I might think the same thing then." San wants to press a kiss to Wooyoung's cheek suddenly, teeth finding his cheek as he listens to the intrusive thought sink into his core. He can't tell if the intention behind it is intimate or comforting, possibly both, but he ignores it regardless. San isn't normally so willing to be affectionate to just anyone, but something about the younger makes his heart swell, and all he wanted to do was be there for him.

"What thing?"

"That you're important to us, which makes your feelings and your bullshit important to us. That's why we worry. It's okay to be worried about sometimes." San feels Wooyoung try to hide his face again, but he turns back, body relaxing in the safety of San's warmth.

Wooyoung doesn't know what to say, stuck on different variations of thank you for being here and thank you for coming into my life. But, he instead settles on, "I hate you."

"I know." San chuckles lightly, rubbing Wooyoung's back more.

"That was a lie, San'ah." Wooyoung hugs him a little tighter. "I can't hate you."

"I know that too."

"Okay." Wooyoung smiles, breaths finally returning to normal and tears drying on once reddened cheeks.

When Wooyoung finally pulls away, his eyes find San's immediately, watching the concern flee from his gaze and fill with reassurance. Wooyoung knows that he looks like a mess. He most likely smelled like the studio still and he could feel his stomach growl angrily with hunger, but San couldn't help but look at him like he was the most important person in his life.

"Feel better?" San asks timidly, watching Wooyoung take a deep breath.

"Yeah," Wooyoung gives him a half-smile, hands reaching up to his cheeks to wipe away any remaining tear stains. "A bit."

"Okay, good." San breathes, watching Wooyoung's hands nervously find one another again as his focus drifts back towards a familiar ring.

Wooyoung hated the feeling in his gut. He felt so needy all of the sudden, wanting something he didn't exactly know how to describe. But, maybe Seonghwa was right. Maybe he wanted something more with San? He really just did not know.

"You still seem down." San frowns lightly. "Is there something you need?"

"I'm hungry," Wooyoung admits solemnly, brows furrowing as his stomach growls again. "I haven't eaten for a while."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" San is worried again and Wooyoung hates that he is.

"Like I said," Wooyoung shrugs. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Woo," San sighs sadly, hand gently reaching over and landing on Wooyoung's anxious hands that continued to fumble with his own ring.

Wooyoung twitches under his grasp, almost wanting to pull away, but his eyes shoot down at the touch instead, heart nearly jumping out of his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. If you keep saying sorry to me, I might just have to kill you." San smiles, watching Wooyoung return almost the same smile. "Do you want something? I can buy anything you want."

"I kind of want pizza."

"Then we can have pizza." San assures, watching Wooyoung's gaze return to him.

Wooyoung doesn't know what to say to him, eyes searching San's face as he just sits in awe of his new friend, wondering what he did to ever deserve him and his kindness.

"I'll go order us some. Just stay here, okay?" San gives Wooyoung's hand a soft squeeze, beginning to stand up from the floor in front of him.

Wooyoung suddenly reaches for his hand again, shocked at his own actions as his hand holds San's own. San looks down at their hands for a second, then shoots his gaze towards Wooyoung, waiting expectantly for any words to fumble from his lips. "San'ah?"

San smiles sweetly at him, nonverbally asking for him to say whatever it was that he wanted to say, watching Wooyoung's hand retreat and his words soften. "Thank you for being there for me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." San stands fully, arm falling to his side as he longs for Wooyoung's touch again. San turns and walks into the kitchen space after that, reaching for his phone in his pocket, but Wooyoung feels the need to say something more.

"San'ah?" Wooyoung watches San turn around and half-expects him to be annoyed or irritated at his persistent interruptions, but there was nothing like that hidden in his loving gaze.

"Yes Woo?" His voice is sweet and almost unbothered. Wooyoung can't help but feel his heart warm.

I really like when you're around. "I like extra cheese."

"Anything else?"

Wooyoung swallows. You. "No."

"Okay," San turns around, searching for a number on his phone with a lazy smile. "Whatever you want."

The next day, Wooyoung wakes up late for class.

He had a nightmare. A very vivid nightmare, at that. One he isn't completely sure that fits under the category of nightmare, but something about the dream had him by the throat.

Wooyoung tends to not remember most of his dreams. Sometimes when he's drunk enough, he will sort of remember the essence of a dream, but never in its entirety.

This one. . . was different to say the least. Wooyoung found himself in San's dorm, sitting on his bed with San pressed against him between his thighs. There were no words, just breaths, ones he swears he can still feel on his lips and neck in reality rather than in dreamscape.

San's hands were struggling to remain complacent on the bed next to his thighs as his lips threatened to sink towards his neck and jawline. Wooyoung is pliant, still; almost completely frozen as he willingly allows his friend to close in on him like that.

He woke up flushed and sweating, heart racing out of his chest with his breaths erratic. Seonghwa heard him wake up in a startled mess, looking at him from the bathroom door with a confused expression coating his tired eyes. Wooyoung stared at his windows, blinking himself to life before finding the courage to tell Seonghwa not to worry about it.

Seonghwa would only reply with: you're late, idiot.

Here he was, rushing towards the lecture hall before his professor could walk into the room, exhaustion and panic setting into his eyes as he reached for the door handle, whipping the door open and immediately turning to his right.

"Woo?" San, who was sitting in his usual seat, watched him closely, holding his phone in his hands. "I was worried about you. I tried calling you-"

"I missed my alarm." Wooyoung hurries to his seat, settling down in the plastic chair carefully before tossing his bag to the floor next to his feet.

He clearly didn't brush his hair or choose his clothes methodically like he normally did, throwing on what smelled like a clean-enough hoodie and jeans from maybe three days ago. San didn't seem to care and was only interested in why his friend was so late.

"The one time I don't walk with you to class," San laughs lightly, reaching into his jacket pocket for something that crinkles when he grabs it.

"I regret telling you to leave without me because I very obviously did not take a shower like I said I would."

"Yeah, so I will never be walking without you again." San nudges him lightly with his shoulder, pulling half of a donut wrapped in saran wrap out of his pocket.

"Please don't tell me that's been sitting in your pocket."

"It has been, but only for a couple of minutes. I ate the other half." San hands it over to Wooyoung. "Eat this half. If you didn't shower, then I know for a fact you didn't bother to eat, either."

Wooyoung grabs the donut, thankful that the sweet breakfast cake was not warm by any means. "Thank you, San'ah."

"Of course," San smiles at him, turning his gaze towards the center of the room when he suddenly notices that the professor had just walked in and started to greet everyone.

Wooyoung silently pulls apart the plastic wrap clinging to his sugary breakfast, listening to San stifle a laugh next to him as the wrap begins to make a lot of subtle noise when the room falls silent.

The professor doesn't seem to care, though, leaving Wooyoung to smile once the wrap is finally off. San continues to chuckle softly towards his friend, and Wooyoung can only reach under the desk to smack his knee lightly in retaliation.

The class passes by dreadfully slow, leaving Wooyoung to nearly fall asleep half way through, but San kept poking him in the neck to deter his focus from lulling into a state of peace and quiet. Wooyoung was annoyed at San's persistent poking, but he was silently thankful that he kept him awake to avoid points being taken off his attendance score. They make some honest progress on their project as the due date nears, just leaving them to fill in the small gaps of information they were missing whenever they felt like doing so.

San begged to go to the studio again today, but Wooyoung was adamant that he needed rest and desperately needed a shower. Somewhere in the conversation San pleads and Wooyoung melts.

"It'll only be an hour," San promises as he turns on his heel, suddenly walking backwards with his gaze focused on his friend. "Then you can go back to the dorm and sleep until your next class."

"I'm just gonna sit and watch you today, if that's okay? My body is really not up for strenuous activity."

"That is completely fine with me," San smiles as he faces him, turning on his heel again to face the correct way. Wooyoung rolls his eyes at him and his obnoxious walking.

"What exactly did you want to practice anyway?"

"Nothing in particular, but I just have a song stuck in my head, so I was gonna dance it outta me."

"Fair enough," Wooyoung agrees, knowing the feeling all too well, especially with a vivid haunting dream stuck in the back of his mind for most of the morning.

"I do have a question for you though," San glances at Wooyoung. "Why didn't Seonghwa wake you up?"

"Oh," Wooyoung scoffs. "In the event that my alarm doesn't go off, he has his own that will wake him up. But it's only happened twice before, and both times I was sick, so he probably assumed I was sick or something similar."

"Did you tell him about your parents?"

"Yeah." Wooyoung shrugs. "He's used to hearing it. He even asked me to tell them that they need to pick different lines to say because even he's heard them all before."

"He's a funny guy," San chuckles softly. "I can see why Joong likes him so much."

"What is Joong like? I feel like I barely got to know him when we went out to eat."

"He's a good dude." San shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, voice trailing into a subtle mumble, but it was just audible enough for Wooyoung to listen to. "He really loves music, more than anyone else I've ever met. He spends a lot of time making his own music and writing lyrics so I hardly see him ever sleep or take a break, but when he met Seonghwa, he almost stopped all of his bad habits."

"Bad habits?"

"Staying up until four in the morning, eating like shit, barely taking care of himself. . . that kind of thing."

"Seonghwa has never stayed up past ten in his life." Wooyoung remembers briefly where his roommate practically had a heart attack over going to bed twenty minutes later than he wanted to, claiming that he won't get enough sleep or something like that. Wooyoung had tried to calm the elder down, sitting on his bed, mindlessly tying his hair up as he sat criss-crossed on his bed, watching his roommate pace around the room as he got ready for bed.

It wasn't even that late, but it was the week of a stressful test, so Seonghwa was beyond the point of return. Wooyoung had just let him work through his manic cycle that week, and as soon as the test was over and he aced it, Seonghwa had returned right back to his normal self.

"Bummer. Doubt he'd ever go to one of Mingi's parties then?"

"It's not his thing, really. But if Joong goes, then it's possible. I bet you that I could convince him regardless," Wooyoung smiles, incredibly sure of himself. "He always pulls me into shit I don't want to do, so it would only be fair."

"Well if you have that power over him, then use it! Make him come out with us once." San watches Wooyoung continue to smile before turning to his right, walking up a short paved pathway that leads towards the familiar doors of the studio hall. Wooyoung mutters a quiet we'll see behind him, a sigh lingering on his lips.

Wooyoung follows closely after him, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie as he bunches them up at his elbows. San opens the door for him, following him inside and down the white-paned wall lined with white boards and different photos, turning down a hall to the left until they arrive at their usual spot of studio A. The room is quiet when they enter, almost as if it hadn't been used since they were there just yesterday, but Wooyoung almost preferred it that way.

The computer was off until San made it hum back to life, mirrors partially covered on the side walls with quiet speakers and dim lights. Wooyoung's hand reaches towards the light switch as he turns the lights brighter, watching the floor shine beneath the bright white beams. Wooyoung feels safe here, and somehow, he could feel the routine of dancing with San in this same studio start to become even more like home.

"Alright, San'ah. Show me this suffocating ass song, will you?" Wooyoung throws his bag to its usual place in the corner, hand reaching out for San's as he sets that one down carefully, rather than tossing it like his own.

"It's Enhypen's fault today," San walks towards the computer, a hand gently brushing some longer strands of his hair from his eyes. "It's one of their newer songs."

"Oh god," Wooyoung knows where this is going. He's heard this song before and he dreadfully knows what's coming. "Don't tell me-"

"It is."

Before Wooyoung knows it, the familiar vocal tones of Enhypen ring out in the speakers, followed by a familiar track not long behind it.

It's you and me in this world

Again, come to me, tie me.

If you are goin' to save me,

Just come kiss me and bite me.

Wooyoung has practically watched this dance performance several times, so the moves aren't completely unfamiliar. But the moment San starts dancing after a very brief warm up, Wooyoung feels his stomach burn.

Memory in my veins,

My cells in search of you scream.

Now I know what I had to be,

Fate discovered us once again.

San moves so beautifully, almost like he's practiced this dance one hundred times, but Wooyoung hasn't seen him dance to this song before, given that he's here nearly every day with him to begin with. This dance was amatory in nature, yet the song was incredibly intimate in itself, and he can hardly comprehend the swelling his heart comes to as he watches San move his hips and his hands.

Got me bad, bad, bad torturin' me,

Dreams wander lookin' for somethin'.

It comes to me when you're next to me,

My name that was briefly forgotten.

Wooyoung swallows the pit in his stomach, eyes enamored by San's body and how smooth he moved. God. Seonghwa was right. Given, he's usually always right in terms of Wooyoung's oblivious feelings, but this was different. Seonghwa read him like a book so easily, capturing the gaze in his eyes when they talked about San.

Wooyoung didn't know what these feelings were, let alone how to deal with them. Time and time again he has had sex with random people he's met at bars and parties he almost decided against going to, filling a void in his heart that he didn't know he barely had. His trail of bad habits nearly ended when he got to college, barely going out and choosing to isolate himself for the sake of his own mental health. Little did he know that doing so would enable an unhealthy pattern and make it difficult to want anyone in his life.

It was true that Wooyoung hated to be touched, but what he hated more than anything was the aftermath. The turmoil his mind turns to after a simple hug or hold on his hand, something that his own parents rarely offered to him as a kid. He's never kissed anyone, afraid that it might send him boiling over the edge and make him manic, almost dependent on someone else's touch. Normally when Seonghwa had hugged him he could feel the uneasiness growing in his chest, but he bit his tongue and ignored it, knowing fully well that Seonghwa's intentions were never harmful.

But with San, everything seemed different. He was sweet and warm, full of passion and love, always so upbeat and willing to do anything for him whenever necessary. Wooyoung didn't understand how someone could be so loving to him when he was almost a stranger, barely letting San know any of his past. But San never gave up on him; not once.

Oh, my, oh, my god.

This blood's pumpin' crazy.

Oh, my, oh, my god.

'Cause I know you'll save me.

Wooyoung swallows, staring at San as he dances, preparing for the chorus as it settles into his mind. Wooyoung doesn't know if he can resist the urge to dance next to him, knowing fully well that the nearing part of the choreography was done with a partner. He's sure he knows the dance by now, considering the ungodly amount of time he spent watching Enhypen's dance practices.

So he stands from his leaned sitting position on the floor, back against the wall, teeth finding the middle of his bottom lip. His heart is racing, stuck within a trance as he watches San dance, almost aware of what his heart wanted.

Come here and get some.

Leave the mark on my neck,

That it's yours.

Just come over and bite me.

San had been watching him almost the entire time, aware that he was approaching with the intent to dance with him, but he never imagined Wooyoung actually dancing the female's part in the choreography. But that's exactly what Wooyoung does as he approaches, waiting for the correct vocal cue. They make brief, subtle eye contact, aware of each other's presence, preparing to dance with one another rather than just together.

Come here and get some,

Sidekick that worships you.

That's my destiny,

Just come over and bite me.

Wooyoung approaches quickly on cue, dancing in tandem with San as they move oppositely, leaning to the side and purposely avoiding each other for a moment. The dance isn't supposed to have much eye contact, hardly at all, but San can't remove his eyes from Wooyoung's.

It's you and me in this world,

Again, come to me, tie me.

If you are goin' to save me,

Just come kiss me and bite me.

San can feel Wooyoung's hand trickling up his chest, another hand settled near his neck. He's warm, possibly from sweating, but his heart felt like it had other intentions rather than a simple work out. They're silent as they dance, almost expressionless, eyes meeting each other nearly every instance that they can as Wooyoung walks behind him with his hand on his shoulder.

It's you and me in this world,

In this darkness, light me.

If you'll give me a chance,

Just come kiss me and bite me, yeah-eh-eh.

Wooyoung swings back around, their hands very briefly touching in passing before Wooyoung turns to look at San, feeling San's hand graze past his chin when he leans down and raises back upwards.

Their eyes hardly leave one another, staring deeply into each other as they continue to dance.

Wooyoung can feel something stirring in his mind, heart on fire and eyes blazing with intent. He wants to kiss him suddenly, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. The song was really making it hard to ignore, especially when San looked at him so intimately.

The chorus ends, leaving Wooyoung complacent in his final standing place, watching San also suddenly stop dancing. The music rages through the speakers overhead, but all Wooyoung can hear is San's breaths and beating heart. They're only two feet apart, eyes staring at one another as they breathe, chests heaving up and down with eyes blinking, words avoiding the tension settling between them in the studio.

Wooyoung wants to hate this feeling. But then he realizes that the only thing he truly wants is to never stop feeling this.

"Do you think you'd ever want something more with San?"

The question lingers in his mind, almost painfully, serving as a reminder that his feelings are strong and persistent, but again, he refuses to let any of them take a hold of his heart.

Feelings were complicated, hard to ignore and sometimes inconsistent. But this feeling in his chest, the one swarming through his lungs and into his heart, he feels like he can't lie to himself anymore and is forced to feel everything.

He liked him. He liked him more than he's like anyone in his entire life. Forget the random people he's had meaningless sex with or the guys who offered to buy him drinks at the bar, that meant nothing. San now meant everything.

The song ends and both boys begrudgingly snap away from each other. San walks towards the computer wordlessly, pausing the music to avoid it playing again, leaving Wooyoung standing in the center of the room with his face buried in his hands.

God, what the fuck just happened?

"You okay, Woo?" San's voice feels similar to a nightmare, living in reality rather than dreamscape.

He needed to leave. He had to run away and never dare to look back. His heart was so confusing and his mind was screaming for air, but he felt like he couldn't breathe. His lungs are closing and his eyes are sewed shut, suddenly wrapping himself in a suffocating box that was locked tight. There's a moment of panic just then, a wave of anxiety crawling up his spine and squeezing the rapidly beating heart in his chest. His hands attempt to grab at his hair, wanting some sort of grounding comfort to be able to finally breathe until a voice snaps him out of his hazed horror.

"Woo." San's hands are suddenly on his arms, standing closely to him, shaking his upper body gently. "Are you alive?"

"San'ah." Wooyoung releases a subtle, calming breath. His chest felt like it was on fire, burning with a memory he didn't want to have.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just-" Wooyoung's hands finally fell from his reddened face. "I have a headache."

"Oh." San frowns. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"No," Wooyoung tries to smile at him. "You can stay here and practice. I'll just head back early."

San feels like he's lying, but with what had just happened? With the tension lingering like an awkward encounter? San doesn't bother to pry. "Text me when you get to the dorm, okay?"

"For sure." Wooyoung hovers for a second, eyes avoiding San's worried gaze. He wants to hug him again. He wants to so badly, but nothing feels right like it used to.

His mind is plagued with fear of stepping too far from his walls, living within a safe and familiar space that he created of his own will. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stray from that, regardless of how much he wanted the warmth and security of San's arms.

Wooyoung wordlessly walks to grab his bag, nearly hesitating by the door as he listens to San stroll back over to the computer. His mind was a tumultuous mess. All he wanted was the comfort of San around him right now, whispering some sort of coo to ease his mind, hands warmly embracing his body against his own.

But he snaps out of it, turning back once to glance at San as he listens to him hum and scroll past songs on the computer, hardly paying attention to his lingering friend. Wooyoung shrugs off the will to stay and heads out of the door without another word.

"Young'ah?" Seonghwa asks while sitting at his desk, notebooks open and papers askew from studying.

Wooyoung was laying in his bed, arm covering his eyes as he laid flat on his back. "What Hwa?"

"You've been laying like that for almost thirty minutes."

"I have a headache, hyung. Please just stop talking."

"Now, I would, except I don't believe you." Seonghwa is annoyingly persistent as usual, leading the elder to lean back into his chair and stare at his suddenly-ill feeling friend.

"God, you're really annoying. You know that, right?" Wooyoung's arm lifted from his eyes, head tilting to the side gently, but just enough so that they could make eye contact. Wooyoung suddenly remembers why he hates Seonghwa sometimes, how annoyingly empathetic he was and how he always knew how to coax the truth from the younger.

"I care about you, Woo. Something is wrong. I can feel it." Seonghwa frowns, head resting in his hand as his elbow graces the arm of his desk chair.

"I'm. . ." Wooyoung's words catch in his throat as he glances at the ceiling, almost afraid for the words to tumble through his lips. "I'm just confused."

"It's San, isn't it?" Seonghwa's not one to beat around the bush, and the sudden earth-tilting revelation makes Wooyoung's skin crawl with goosebumps. How the hell did he always know?

Wooyoung can't find the words now. If he thought it was harder to speak before at a very mild confession, now the words were really struggling to find a place on his tongue.

Seonghwa sighs, eyes flicking down towards his legs as he listens to Wooyoung's breaths. They've had a similar tension between them before, but only when Wooyoung tries to talk about his parents. Seonghwa was never one to really try to pry if his friend really did not want to talk, but he could see the look in his eyes. Wooyoung was pleading silently for help from his mind, regardless if the younger knew it or not, it all seemed subconscious. Seonghwa couldn't ignore him or the look in his eyes, not when those same eyes looked at him after his parents screamed at him on the phone two weeks into moving into the dorm together.

"Woo," Seonghwa treads carefully, understanding that his friend was rather timid when it came to emotions and relationships. "Tell me what happened."

"I-" Wooyoung felt the urge to start crying then, mind incredibly confused and hard to understand, but the urge to cry became a nuisance, so he swallowed it away with what little pride he could muster. "I hugged him."

"Is that really it?" Seonghwa knows there's more and Wooyoung hates him for it.

Admittedly, that was a huge step for Wooyoung since he hated skinship and Seonghwa would be the first person to acknowledge that, but there had to be more to drive his friend into the brink like this. He seemed hopeless and slightly pale, mind blurry and eyes glossed; something more happened. Seonghwa didn't have to be present to know that.

"I had a nightmare, or, or a dream or something. I don't fucking know."

"Okay," Seonghwa pauses for a second, eyes fixated on Wooyoung's expression as he continues to stare at the ceiling. "What did you see?"

"San." Wooyoung swallows, admittance to the haunting dream settling into his veins. "He was so close to me and I-"

Seonghwa notices his friend struggling for a moment, eyes closing with jaw taut. "Breathe, Woo. It's okay. It's just me here."

"I wanted him closer." The weight starts to drift from his chest, lungs finally allowing longer strokes of air to inhale through his lips. "I could feel his breath on my neck."

"Did he touch you?"

"No." Wooyoung shakes his head, blinking rapidly at the plain ceiling before turning his gaze back towards Seonghwa with a narrowing squint. "But I really wanted him to."

Seonghwa leans back into his chair again, thrown off by the confession in Wooyoung's lips. He's hardly ever heard his roommate talk like this before, let alone admit to wanting to be touched.

"I never wanted him to leave, and the thought of it all is so. . . vivid. I can remember almost everything." Wooyoung looks towards the ceiling once more, a thought hanging on the edge of his tongue. "And when I saw him again today, I just felt vulnerable."

"It's okay to feel like that, Woo." Seonghwa tries to reassuringly smile at his friend, watching the younger's gaze roll back towards him. "Feeling vulnerable is how you know you're comfortable around someone. I mean, you're comfortable around me, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but that felt, I don't know-"

"Intimate?"

Wooyoung ponders for a moment, realizing that Seonghwa was right again, and he really hates that he needed to admit it. "Incredibly intimate."

"So you do have feelings for him?"

"I think I do. I keep getting nervous and wanting more from him. I also keep feeling other things that I don't really understand yet and I just don't know what my body wants from me."

"Your body doesn't want anything, Young'ah." Seonghwa smiles, leaning forwards slightly. "Your heart does."

"Oh god."

"But, that doesn't answer why you're here with a mysterious headache." Seonghwa pries a little harder, feeling the open chance to dig a little deeper into his friend's mind.

Wooyoung honestly doesn't mind talking right now, since it feels like it's the only way to set his mind free of the torture, but that doesn't rid his subtle hatred for Seonghwa and his need to pry into the younger's mind. "I was at the studio with him. I was insistent on not dancing because of how little I slept or well, overslept, and he put on a song that trapped me. I felt like I was stuck. . . I don't even know how to tell you what that was like in words."

"But you felt something new, right?"

"It was really intense, whatever it was that I was feeling. I started to dance with him-"

"But don't you do that all the time?"

"No, Hwa. You don't get it. We dance together, side by side. But this time, I was dancing with him." Wooyoung feels so wrong talking like this, but something about admitting to these feelings that rest dormantly in his mind felt so freeing. "The eye contact we had, the tension and the closeness. . . I felt like I was staring at a hungry wolf. There was passion or something in his eyes, something I have never seen from him before. It scared me, but I couldn't look away."

"Did you feel it then?" Seonghwa watches Wooyoung's eyes gaze with confusion. "Vulnerable?"

Wooyoung isn't sure how honest he should be, eyes trying to avoid Seonghwa's motherly gaze as he teeters on the edge of yes or no. He'd been completely honest up until this point, but something about admitting to rapidly-changing feelings felt too difficult for him. It's not like he wanted to lie or hide anymore crap from his roommate, but god, getting the words out was proving to be harder the longer he was honest with himself.

He's barely felt anything towards the people he's hooked up with, leaving almost immediately after a wordless and kissless one-night stand, taking everything except his dignity with him as he leaves. It felt fruitless at the time, but something he continued to do just to relieve stress and feel something. Though he rarely ever wanted anyone to touch him, he made it very clear to these strangers that shared the same bed with him that he didn't want to cuddle, he didn't want to be kissed, and he sure as hell did not want to see them again.

Given that these random hookups only happened four times, the last one was hardly memorable and left him room to grieve at the waste of time. That was almost a year ago, and since then, he's hardly had the urge to de-stress like that ever again.

But, after this dream, or whatever the hell you'd call it, Wooyoung finds himself craving San's touch. He was partially embarrassed, and a little caught off guard by the intensity they rose to, but he was only human, and he was trying to come to terms with that.

"I did-" Wooyoung replies softly, almost afraid of Seonghwa's reply. "I did and I ran away."

"Do you think he felt the same thing?"

"I don't know. I think so? He basically ran away too. There was this weird tension between us after we danced together, one that felt like an electric current dragging us together. But I was scared, and I'm sure he sensed that."

"San isn't stupid," Seonghwa watches Wooyoung blink at him as if that was an obvious statement, but suddenly feel his breath leave his lungs when Seonghwa finishes his thought. "If he knows that he is feeling something too, because of how you are, he is going to walk away rather than act on it."

"So, you're saying that I pushed him away?"

"You did tell him your boundaries, didn't you?"

"No, not really." Wooyoung begins to sit up on his bed, hands pressed into his sheets and mattress as he uses his arms to support himself upright.

"But he's never made a move to touch you, has he?"

"No." Wooyoung breathes, all of the sudden feeling the pieces come together. "God, am I that fucking blind?"

"I told you that you were oblivious, didn't I?"

"I hate when you're right." Wooyoung rolls his eyes, turning his head to glance towards the windows ahead of him. "You're an ass."

"Do you feel better?"

"Better? No. Confused? A little less than before. We just became friends and everything so I-I don't know. I'm a little unsure of how to process all of these feelings and shit."

"It takes time. You don't have to act on anything right now."

"But what if he gets tired of me?" Wooyoung watches the elder smile, leaning into his chair again for the final time.

"By the way he looks at you," Seonghwa watches Wooyoung's eyes glimmer. "He's never going to get tired of you."