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⸻⸻ .·:*¨༺ ♛ ♡ ∞ ♡ ♛ ༻¨*:·. ⸻⸻

Before Wooyoung knows it, the bus had arrived at their stop and he wakes from his comfortable sleep slightly dazed and vaguely annoyed. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out exactly, but San shakes him awake softly, muttering quiet versions of his name that he barely hears.

Wooyoung follows San off the bus, hand clinging to San's as if he needed it to stay awake, stay breathing; something he never wanted to let go of. He felt hazy, eyes blinking to keep himself conscious as he walked down the sidewalk. If someone didn't know better, they would surely think that Wooyoung was drunk or inebriated, or something of the sorts with the way he clung to San like a koala.

They weren't far from the dorm, most likely a three minute walk, but Wooyoung felt like the world was heavy and his legs were jelly, suddenly overwhelmed by how truly tired he was. In his defense, he was over sleeping, so when his body finally was ready to collapse, it would do exactly that without warning; collapse.

San was worried, but he was never going to admit that. All he could do was walk Wooyoung to the dorm and hope that he'd rest once inside. Wooyoung was capable enough to walk back, but his eyes were droopy and his head was slightly tilted to the left, craning towards San's shoulder the more he walked.

"We're almost there, Woo." San reassures, feeling Wooyoung sleepily chuckle next to him.

"You're really the best, y'know that?"

"I'm not, Woo-"

"You are." Wooyoung breathes deeply, blinking himself more awake than he'd like to be. The entire trek home was curbing his senses back to normal, pulling his eyes open wider and stirring his mind to realize that he was still holding onto the elder's hand. For a second he wants to pull away, fight the warm contact lingering between them, but the more his mind settles, the more he doesn't want to let go.

"Let's get you to your bed." San smiles and Wooyoung doesn't protest, holding onto the promise of greeting his bed soon.

"Don't leave when we get there." Wooyoung timidly replies, catching San by surprise.

San wasn't going to refuse outright, sure he was confused by the gesture and wondered what intentions lie ahead, but he would do anything for Wooyoung. That, he was sure of.

"I won't leave." San isn't sure if he's lying or promising that he won't leave, unsure of what his own heart wants right now. He knew Wooyoung was teetering on the edge of some sort of emotional breakdown or something vaguely similar given the stress he's induced the last week, but something about the encounter radiates honesty.

The rest of their walk is quiet, somehow submerged with an easiness that caters to the feelings Wooyoung feels tightening in his chest. All of the memories that came with San felt like baggage, something that weighed down his heart and took a strain on his soul, but the moment he looked at San, everything suddenly simmered away.

The anxiety, the fear; everything was silent. Wooyoung glances at their hands again, biting down on his bottom lip as he listens to his mind scream and beg for separation, but for one damn second, he tells himself no. He's tired of overthinking, tired of being lonely and just tired of being tired. San was here and taking care of him, not abandoning him like everyone else has. It was all he wanted, all he dreamt of even, now lost in the picture perfect memory of San touching him.

He could barely tell who he was anymore, unaware of his own wants and desires as they come from nowhere and throw off his entire equilibrium. This new emotion was clinging to the back of his tongue, words he didn't know how to express without the feeling of San's breath against his neck. The dream, or the nightmare, or whatever it was still terrified Wooyoung, but only in the sense that it made his feelings stronger.

Door knobs twist and doors open, leading the two males up the two flights of stairs and towards the familiar hall, walking six doors down and towards a room that both males knew all too well. Wooyoung shuffles for his keys, reaching into his pocket until he pulls the keyring out, sliding his key into his lock, turning and turning until he hears a click.

"You're coming inside, right?" Wooyoung turns to San, tired and a bit worried, eyes glancing across his expression quietly.

"Yes." San tries to reaffirm with a warm smile, watching Wooyoung hesitantly turn around, hand dropping from San's entangled grasp and heading inside. San follows right behind him, closing the door once inside and almost immediately seeing that Seonghwa was not in the dorm.

"What time is it?" Wooyoung mutters, almost to himself or to just the air around him, but San shrugs and watches the younger circle towards his bed, eyes turning to face his clock just nearby. "It's only four?"

"Still tired?" San asks curiously, watching Wooyoung lean back to sit on his bed, hands almost immediately reaching for his shoes as he throws them off, letting them hit the floor with subtle thuds.

"I don't know how I'm still tired. I feel like I've slept all day." Wooyoung groans, leaning back further until his back is pressed against his mattress.

"Well, you've been sick, right?" San approaches Wooyoung's bed, a little unsure of how cautious to play the conversation.

Wooyoung's breath catches in his throat. He isn't sure if now was a prime opportunity to tell the sudden truth of faking an illness just to hide his very strong and very real feelings for someone he met two weeks ago, but all that comes from his tongue is a stuttered response. "R-right."

"So, your body is probably just fighting off everything. You've just gotta rest, Woo. Your body is tired."

"I feel like I'm dying. . . or something." Wooyoung is very obviously being dramatic, and San hardly plays into it, but there's some sort of guilt that tricks Wooyoung's brain into thinking he's serious.

He felt like his feelings were the plague, some sort of turmoil that ruined his dreams and ambitions, if he were to ever have any. The struggle of pleasing his parents, keeping a good grade in his classes, all while studying and trying to take care of himself; it begged to be too much. He was stretched thin, barely alive and barely living.

"You're not dying, Woo." San chuckles, moving to sit down on the bed next to him, a breath rolling through his lungs.

"Then why does everything feel so heavy?" Shit. Wooyoung didn't mean to say that so casually. The topic of his mental health was a very, very difficult one. One that he struggled to talk about at all with anyone. Seonghwa knew some of it, but never the full brunt of his anxiety that came associated with college and his parents.

The words obviously impacted San enough to watch the smile disappear from his lips, a ghastly look of concern following shortly after. "No, San'ah, I didn't mean that."

"But you did." San's voice trails into a mumble, blinking away the worry clouding his eyes. "You wouldn't say that without meaning it."

"San, please. Don't do this right now. Please." He didn't want the guilt to sink into his stomach, stirring up a pit of nausea he was surely about to drown with ignorance and silence.

"I'm allowed to worry." San sighs. "Especially when you say things like that."

"It slipped-"

"But are you okay?" San's words are gentle, enough to silence Wooyoung's horrendous thoughts and bring his mind some sort of peace. But for a moment, that bliss lingers. It feels like a wave of relief, something so far out of reach and suddenly in his grasp.

"I'm not-" Wooyoung's brows furrow, and the feelings hit him like a truck. The peace rushes out the dorm's windows, leaving dread to sink into his mind with the knowledge of strong feelings and haunting dreams. "I don't know anymore."

"Can you please talk to me?" San leans backwards, elbow meeting the mattress as he barely leans over Wooyoung, watching his gaze avoid him as he stares off into the ceiling.

"I don't-" Wooyoung's voice stutters, breath caught in his throat. "I don't know how."

"How to what?"

"Be honest." Wooyoung's gaze finally turns over, tears dropping from his eyes with a dull expression. All of the pent up fears and emotions finally boiled over with what felt like the ultimate confession.

Wooyoung would do anything to be pitifully honest, regardless of what it cost based on his child-like lie. The way San was looking at him was everything, almost as if he was holding Wooyoung on a pedestal that he held so close to his heart, wanting only the best for him.

"Wooyoung-" San's demeanor changes then, body relaxed and eyes glimmering with empathy. "You can be honest with me. Anything you say will not drive me away, I promise."

"That's what everyone told me before." Wooyoung shrugs, tears rolling down his cheeks quicker than before, but he remains calm and rigid, heart colder than stone. "Everyone I ever loved-"

Wooyoung's breath catches again. "They left me. All my issues, all my trauma, and for what? The misery of watching me crash and burn after? Well not anymore. I'm not anyone's laughing stock, I'm no one's toy and I'm certainly not someone's fucking joke anymore."

San wants to say a million things, but nothing comes off of his tongue. He's worried; deathly worried. But every thought that comes to mind threatens to make the situation worse. This side of Wooyoung, one that's sensitive and irreversibly vulnerable, makes San want to try again.

San wasn't unfamiliar with bad relationships and toxic people, but with the loneliness he dealt with nearly his entire childhood, he chose to keep trying. Wooyoung only made him want to try harder. He didn't know if he was trying for the sake of friendship or for closeness, or something more. He didn't understand the feelings in his heart yet, but something inside of him told a different truth. One that was wrapped in warmth and made his head spin.

"You're not a joke to me." San shakes his head, struggling to keep his hand from wiping away Wooyoung's tears.

"You barely know me." Wooyoung scoffs. "You would leave me too if you knew me."

"Wooyoung, I'm not gonna leave you." San tries to plead, but Wooyoung shrugs the affirmation away.

"You'd be the eighth person to tell me that. And guess what? They leave anyway."

"Wooyoung-"

"People leave. It's just how they are."

"Please-"

"I must not be loveable enough. Why do you think I ended up so alone?"

"Woo." San stays calm, hand reaching towards Wooyoung's face, capturing his jaw in his hand, turning his gaze towards him. "Please relax."

Wooyoung feels his heart stop for a second, mind screaming at the thought of San's hand touching him. "O-Okay."

"Listen to me." San's voice is intoxicating, holding Wooyoung's attention the entire time as he speaks quietly and gently. "I don't know what pain you endured when you were young, but I can tell you this now-"

San's hand drops from Wooyoung's jaw gently, eyes tracking to find Wooyoung's hand that rests on his own chest. "I will never treat you like that. I don't like to make promises, but I can promise to be there for you whenever you need me."

San's hand timidly reaches for Wooyoung's, meeting little resistance as their hold becomes intertwined. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do." San smiles at him, watching Wooyoung's tears slow, almost completely stopping by the time his sentiment reaches the younger's heart.

"I'm a mess, San'ah." Wooyoung admits to himself, blinking away the last few tears that threaten to spill over.

"Who isn't a mess?" San watches a smile creep onto Wooyoung's lips, and for a moment, he finally believes he saw a new part of Wooyoung he's hardly seen before. "You're tired, Woo. You should take a nap."

"I don't want you to leave." Wooyoung's honesty bleeds through his lips as he looks at San adoringly, wanting nothing more than San to stay and never leave.

"I can stay. But what happens when Seonghwa comes back?"

"He's not gonna care." Wooyoung blinks up at him, a little unsure of San's hesitance, but he says nothing.

"If you're okay with it, then I'll stay. I just really want you to rest."

Wooyoung's chest is burning with something, a desire of wanting San's hands on him. He isn't exactly sure in what fucking context this desire stems from, but all he knows is that he wants San to touch him. However, he also isn't sure how to ask for what he wants, so he just decides to sit upright, hand still grasping onto San's.

San watches with interest, sitting up too, eyes searching for Wooyoung's as the younger avoids him still. His mind was incredibly confusing, like normal, but in this instance, he really did not know what his heart wanted. Seonghwa was adamant that he needed to listen to his heart, but how could he when all it was doing was sending mixed, vague signals?

"The last few times I've slept-" Wooyoung breathes calmingly. "I've had a nightmare."

"Can you tell me what it was about?" San feels Wooyoung's hand grow rigid, body tense as the thought of the apparent nightmare sends chills through his skin.

"I can't."

"Okay." San chooses not to press any further, squeezing Wooyoung's hand gently, trying to reassure his sudden apprehension away. "What can I do to help you?"

Understand that I think about you all the time.

Understand that I was never sick and that I lied.

Understand that I like you so much that I'm scared of my own actions.

"Hold me?" Wooyoung looks at San, eyes red and tired, searching San's gaze for something, anything that would comfort the trauma in his heart.

Wooyoung didn't want to tell San about the nightmare to begin with, let alone the details of watching him nearly press a suffocating kiss against his lips or feeling his teeth against his neck. Ever since he had the first nightmare a few nights ago, the vision of it hardly went away. The longer he saw the dream, the more comfortable he felt in trying to understand why he was seeing San pressed up against him like that.

Then again, Seonghwa had a point. His heart wanted something so unfamiliar to him, all of these silent messages and memories plagued him like the sickness he was faking. Maybe he really was sick, just not in the way he led on.

"You want me. . . to-?"

"San'ah-" Wooyoung closes his eyes, biting his cheek. "Please."

San says nothing. They share a few timid glances before Wooyoung lays down on his bed, feeling San move and adjust to the way he was laying. This was weird, Wooyoung would be the first to admit to it, but for once he allowed himself to give in to something his heart seemingly wanted in the hopes that the internal screaming would go away.

Wooyoung laid on his side, eyes facing towards Seonghwa's empty and prettily made bed, waiting to see if his body would reject the feeling of San's warm arms around him. But, it doesn't.

The moment Wooyoung feels San's arms wrap around his side, he suddenly feels. . . calm. He can feel San's breath just barely on the back of his neck, skin on fire the moment he feels San inch closer.

"Is this. . . okay?" San asks timidly.

"Yeah." Wooyoung reassures, reaching for his blanket that was bundled up near his feet. The blanket is quick to warm Wooyoung as he tugs it over his body, letting it drift up towards his torso. Wooyoung quickly glances to make sure San had enough of the blanket as well, to which the elder maneuvers until he is almost completely covered.

It was oddly comfortable for two 'friends' who had barely known each other for two weeks. Something about the elder made Wooyoung incredibly relaxed, and this experience was no different. Though, he isn't sure if his heart is thinking of this in a friend-like state like he'd want to believe it to be.

Wooyoung finds himself drifting off to sleep quicker than normal, head leaning deeper into the press of his pillow until his breaths deepen, tilting over the edge of reality and into a dreamscape. San patiently waits for him to sleep, watching his sides cast upwards and downwards, counting each breath until he too falls asleep by accident.

Wooyoung wakes to the feeling of a hand gently shaking his arm. Seonghwa, worried and completely confused, was staring at him with his eyes wide in a fit of shock. Wooyoung's eyes peel open to meet Seonghwa's gaze, blinking awake only to realize that the sun had set and the dorm was almost completely dark.

"What are you doing?!" Seonghwa whispers, watching Wooyoung glance behind him, feeling San's arm still dangling across his midsection.

"I don't know?" Wooyoung's brows furrow, looking back at Seonghwa with annoyance clinging to his tongue. He really wishes he wasn't awake, but he knew that his roommate would've eventually broken back into their dorm to demand answers.

"You're literally cuddling with the dude you didn't want to see this morning!" Seonghwa is whispering in hysterics, clearly concerned for the mental health of his friend and roommate, but for some reason, the visual of said friend is all too much.

"Shut up! I don't know what happened, but can you please shut the fuck up?" Wooyoung's voice is still hushed to a whisper, but the annoyance clinging to his tone was loud enough to catch Seonghwa's attention.

"We're gonna talk after he leaves."

"No we're not!" Wooyoung rolls his eyes, leaning back into his pillow to Seonghwa's disdain.

"What do you mean no we're not?!"

"I am not telling you shit!"

"You've gotta explain this!"

"No I don't-"

"Woo?" San grumbles from behind Wooyoung, catching both parties' attention as they silently quit their whispering feud.

"Yeah, San'ah?"

"What time is it?" Wooyoung turns his gaze towards his clock, eyeing the time with a mumble edged on his lips.

"9:15."

"Shit." San groans, turning onto his back with his hands pulled towards his face, wiping the desire to fall back asleep off of his skin. "Fuck, did we finish our calculus project?"

"Yeah. We did."

"Thank god." San's hands move towards his sides, eyes blinking towards the ceiling as he rests there, oblivious to Wooyoung and Seonghwa mouthing some sort of words between one another.

Wooyoung wasn't entirely sure why Seonghwa was so defensive about his feelings, when Seonghwa himself was encouraging the two to at least get together. Wooyoung was irritated, and slightly tired still, trying to urge the elder to move towards his own bed so this encounter wouldn't be a memory plagued in annoyance.

"Did you sleep okay, Woo?"

"Yeah, yeah." Wooyoung shoos Seonghwa away with his hand, turning onto his back to tilt his head over towards San, trying his best to ignore Seonghwa's whisper-like cries. "Did you?"

"I didn't even mean to fall asleep." San chuckles tiredly, turning his gaze towards Wooyoung. If Wooyoung wasn't such a 'chicken shit', in Seonghwa's terms, he would want to kiss San right now.

"You must've been tired too." Wooyoung blinks, watching San smile sleepily.

"I guess. Do you feel okay now?"

"I'm barely awake enough to answer that, but, yeah. For now."

"No nightmare?" Seonghwa shoots a glance at Wooyoung curiously after San asks a familiar question, one Seonghwa had asked nearly every morning but had gotten a different answer than what San was about to receive.

"Nope." Wooyoung swallows shyly, afraid of the reaction from both people within close proximity of his truth. "If I had it, I don't remember it."

"That's good." San wants to add something along the lines of I was worried to the end of his statement, but he knew all too well how much Wooyoung hated being worried about, so he keeps it to himself begrudgingly.

Neither male admitted to their close contact nor anything about their impromptu cuddling session that lasted over five hours, but Seonghwa wanted to talk all about it. San sits upright, a quiet yawn leaving his lips as he turns his gaze behind him, looking at Wooyoung then back towards his hands, reaching in his pocket for his phone. "I think I'm gonna go eat dinner and go to bed. Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, San'ah. Seonghwa will be here." Wooyoung smiles at him. "Thank you, though."

"You're welcome." San smiles back, carefully sliding off of the bed and finally making awkward eye contact with Seonghwa. "Oh. Hey. Sorry to impose like this."

"You're okay. It's nice seeing you again, San." Seonghwa smiles at him, trying to hide the irritation for his roommate below the surface of a kind tone.

"I'll walk with you to lecture in the morning, okay?" San throws over his shoulder towards Wooyoung, who nods and replies with a quiet okay. "See you in the morning, then."

"Bye." Wooyoung throws right back, watching his friend grab his shoes and head for the front door, leaving only a couple of seconds later. The door opens and closes, which brings Wooyoung's attention directly back towards Seonghwa.

"What the fuck, Wooyoung."

"I don't want to hear it."

"You're gonna hear it!" Seonghwa was trying his best to not be mad, but everything Wooyoung had been doing the last two days felt like a downward spiral, and one he was not going to stand by and let happen. "I'm worried about you. You weren't taking care of yourself and avoiding going out into the sunlight like some kind of vampire just because you have some sort of crush on San. Then you're not even showering, barely eating, and not going to class. What happened to you the last three days? Why are you avoiding everyone?"

"Hwa-"

"Wooyoung, please answer me."

"Okay, fine." Wooyoung finally sits up, adjusting the blanket still wrapped around his legs.

"I want you to tell me what is so bad about liking him."

"I've just. . . never liked anyone the way I like him." Wooyoung shrugs. "It's scary. I hate the feeling my chest burns with when I see him, and I hate the way my heart feels like it swells. I have never felt like this my entire life and I'm terrified that he's going to break me."

"That makes a lot of sense." Seonghwa finally calms down, tone reaching normalcy, eyes glinting with compassion. "It's okay to feel those things, Woo."

"I don't want to be abandoned again. I've grown attached to our little routine and dancing in the studio with him. I feel like I finally have someone like me. . . no offense hyung-"

"None taken." Seonghwa smiles softly, waiting for Wooyoung to continue.

"He just gets me and he takes care of me. He's never judged me and he didn't try to push me away like everyone else when I was being a dick to him."

"Wooyoung?"

"Hm?"

"Do you know what this sounds like?" Wooyoung shakes his head. Seonghwa lets a soft exhale exit his lips for a moment, eyes turned towards the floor and his hands touching his knees. "I think you're falling for him."

"No-" Wooyoung blurts out, breath caught in his lungs as he leans back slightly, eyes widening with realization and fear simultaneously. "That's ridiculous!"

Wooyoung stands from the bed, blanket tossed to the edge of his mattress and hands threading through his hair. "That's crazy, right? I can't be."

"Just breathe, okay? This is a lot."

"It is a-fucking-lot Hwa. I don't know how true it is, but I feel something. That's what matters, right?"

"Right."

"Oh my god." Wooyoung groans, throwing himself back onto his bed after briefly pacing a few feet up and down the dorm, eyes staring into the ceiling the moment his back meets his mattress. "What the fuck am I going to do tomorrow?"

"It's just like any other day, isn't it?"

"Except that I promised San I'd go to watch him perform his dance project in the big hall."

"Oh." Seonghwa sighs. "Well. . . I don't like the idea of you avoiding him anymore, so I really recommend you going. Maybe try to just ignore your feelings for a couple of hours?"

"How can I ignore how I feel when he looks at me a certain way or when he talks to me like I'm the most important person in his life?"

"Sometimes you just get used to the feeling of unrequited love." Seonghwa bites his tongue, watching Wooyoung sit up slowly, eyes saddened and brows furrowed with concern. "I did."

"I didn't know-"

"No one knew. But you deserve to."

"Who was it with?" Wooyoung suddenly feels his heart drop the moment Seonghwa's gaze drifts away timidly, and he feels nothing except guilt attached to his chest. "I'm sorry, that's too personal, isn't it?"

"I'll tell you eventually, just not now. But the feeling of it, Woo-" Seonghwa's eyes struggle to move away from his hands as they tighten their grip onto his knees. "It doesn't go away, but it gets easier."

"So. . . ignore it?"

"Ignore all of it."

Wooyoung drifts to sleep shortly after their conversation ends, quietly watching Seonghwa get into bed and turn away from him, almost too afraid to look his friend in the eye. Wooyoung knows this, so he avoids saying anything and just lays there, eyes counting the ripples and marks of the engraved ceiling until he lulls into a state of peace.

But the peace is disturbed the moment he tilts into dreamscape, eyes fluttering awake to see San pressed against him like before, lips hovering near his neck and hands gripping onto his waist. But he wants this. He's filled to the brim with lust and longing, eyes hungry for something more as he pleads, pulling San closer to him. His heart is racing, chest burning with desire the longer he waits and waits for San to make a move, legs wrapped around the elder's waist lustfully.

Patience, Young'ah. Wooyoung breathes. We've got all the time in the world.

But then, Wooyoung feels San's breath on his lips. They're sharing the same air now, lips inches away from one another as San presses even closer. Wooyoung is silently begging, hands gripping the bottom of San's shirt until he feels the press of warm lips against his. But in that same moment, one drizzled with a light of hope and saturated with love, Wooyoung's eyes shoot open and he gasps for air.

The nightmare was getting worse. Wooyoung had woken up thirty minutes before his alarm, turning to look and see that Seonghwa was still asleep blissfully, blanket wrapped around his figure tightly as he hardly moves when Wooyoung scares himself awake.

Wooyoung decides to roll out of bed, taking the chance of the early wake-up call to grab a towel and head for the shower, turning on the warm water and inhaling the steam, trying his best to shut off his mind for a second if it'd let him.

But Wooyoung has barely any faith that the thoughts would go away. The feelings were growing stronger and his walls were being torn down faster than he could replace them, leaving him hardly any wiggle room to decide if actually ignoring all of these sentiments was worth it.

Everything Seonghwa said resonated in him, leaving the word unrequited to settle into his stomach uneasily. He knew in the back of his mind that San could just see him as a friend, but it didn't feel right. Somewhere in his mind, in his soul too, he could sense that San liked him too. He just hoped it was in the same way, otherwise the nightmares might plague him for the rest of his life.

A long shower drowns out his early morning, sending him to class with San attached to his hip, and to his dismay, their math professor makes them present their project first. But as the next two hours pass, Wooyoung finds himself in the studio with San, waiting for the clock to tick past until San could head to the bigger studio hall.

San was dancing the routine over and over again obsessively, watching his own movements in the mirror with Wooyoung's input following every step. There was very little to fix, but Wooyoung made sure to pay attention the best he could, but the feelings in his chest were extremely adamant about being felt.

"Should I fix that?" San asks, marking the same movement again and Wooyoung shrugs.

"San'ah, if I'm being honest, I think you're just nitpicking because you're anxious."

"No, I just-" San adjusts his black cap, the same damn cap he always wears, placing his hands on his waist as he looks at Wooyoung through the mirror. "You're right. I am really nervous."

"You're gonna do great, okay?" Wooyoung smiles at him and watches him shyly smile back.

"Okay. Let's go one more time?"

"One more time." Wooyoung affirms, heading back towards the familiar back wall and leaning against it, arms folded across his chest as he watches San restart the music and head back towards the center.

Wooyoung watches the entire dance one more time, just like San insisted, finding almost nothing wrong with his choreography. San tries to reassure himself with the help of Wooyoung, but San could tell that the younger was quieter and a little reserved. San blames it on his sickness again, trying his best to ignore the awkward tension settled between them.

They head towards the studio hall, sneaking inside during someone else's performance, waiting patiently for the professor to call San's name. The moment San hears his name be called, he turns to Wooyoung, giving him a hopeful and please reassure me kind of look, and all Wooyoung does is smile at him and say, "you'll do great."

San heads to the center of the room and marks his position, and once the music begins, so does he. Wooyoung stands in the back of the room, watching with admiration coursing through his veins. This dance that they spent days on was finally done and San was dancing perfectly. There wasn't a mistake, there wasn't a lack of focus, and there wasn't even a lack of fluidity; San just did what he did best, and that was dancing his heart out.

San was a man of many passions, which was something Wooyoung treasured about his friend, and watching this performance only made that feeling stronger.

San's dance ends, and all Wooyoung wants to do is cheer at the top of his lungs. But instead, the professor rises from her seat, gives San a few claps well done, and sits back down, writing some notes onto his performance sheet. San leaves the center, rushing over quickly to where Wooyoung was still standing, a grin smeared across his lips excitedly.

"I did it!" San hushes, watching Wooyoung smile at him happily.

"You did! You did so well!" Wooyoung hardly breathes when San collides into him, engulfing him into a hug with a happy hum.

"Thank you for being here! I just don't know what I would've done without you."

The moment San embraces Wooyoung's body, the younger can't help but feel resentment and guilt trapped within the pit of his stomach. He hates this feeling, he hates wanting to push San away, but with feelings tipping over the edge and nearly forcing tears out of his eyes, all he can do is panic. Wooyoung's hands find San's shoulders nervously, timidly pushing him away with wide eyes and hitched breaths. "I-I'm sorry."

"Did I go too far?" San is suddenly very obviously worried, and Wooyoung dreads the ignored feelings stowed away inside his heart.

"No, San'ah, I just-" Wooyoung tries to think of an escape, anything to avoid the awkward conversation that lingers between them. He doesn't want to lie, but lying was all he had. "I just don't feel good, still. I think I'm gonna head back to the dorm."

"Oh." San's happiness deflates. "Okay."

"I'm sorry. I'll text you when I get there." Wooyoung tries to smile reassuringly, but San feels anything but that. "You did great today. You really did."

"Thank you." San smiles, watching Wooyoung turn his heel and leave without another word.

Four hours pass. Wooyoung was done with his classes for the day, eyes staring at his computer screen boringly, drunken with the state of unrequited feelings and his heart torn into pieces. He felt incredibly guilty, suddenly wishing for the last two weeks to be erased from his memories.

Seonghwa was right again, and Wooyoung for once, didn't hate it. Now knowing what lingered inside of him made it easier to swallow and easier to cope, but between the lies and not confessing, Wooyoung struggled to be honest with himself.

He was always bad with relationships, platonic or otherwise, which is why he rarely kept people like that in his life. It all stemmed from a familiar feeling of loneliness, wrapped in something stronger that felt like resentment. He was angry with the world, and sometimes he was angry with himself, annoyed by the idea that he wanted people in his life sometimes.

Overbearing parents and all, Wooyoung still wanted San in his life. Seonghwa was a light in his darkness, but San felt like the sun in his universe. San begged for his attention, reaching his hands out and pleading for Wooyoung to just let go. Wooyoung knew he couldn't.

He built his walls for a reason, reinforced and held strong for his own protection with years of overthinking and trauma to compensate, and that was something he couldn't easily let go of.

Seonghwa sat at his desk, quietly highlighting his notes and sorting his flashcards. Wooyoung had barely said but two words to Seonghwa, leaving the room quiet and on the brink of awkward tension, but neither male cared enough to invade one another's privacy.

Wooyoung had lied to San again. He didn't text him when he got back to the dorm. Instead, he ran home, nestling himself into the comfort of his playstation and his phone, ignoring all other distractions as his eyes focused onto his monitor. Though, he could hardly convince himself to actually play anything.

Three sharp, but quick, knocks ring out at the front door. Both Seonghwa and Wooyoung turn and look at the door before turning towards each other with a confused gaze.

"It's open!" Seonghwa yells, almost certain that it could be his own boyfriend, but the face of a familiar friend walks through and Wooyoung's heart drops into the floor.

"Woo?" San closes the door behind him, walking further into the dorm until he spots Wooyoung sitting at his desk. "Can I talk to you?"

"Uhm," Wooyoung looks at Seonghwa, who turns back towards his desk and starts to close his books.

"I can leave for a second, if you want. Is Joong home?"

"He's making music as usual. Door is unlocked." San smiles at him briefly before Seonghwa turns back around, grabbing a few more items before rising from his chair. "Thank you, Hwa."

"Anytime." Seonghwa gives Wooyoung a reassuring look before heading over to the front door and leaving quickly.

Wooyoung shifts his gaze towards the floor, knowing exactly what conversation was coming and how badly he wanted to avoid it.

"Woo." San sits down on Wooyoung's bed, eyes casted in worry. "Did I overstep? Did I misread everything?"

"No, San'ah-"

"Woo, if I've done something wrong, please tell me."

"You didn't! You didn't, I swear." Wooyoung turns in his chair, gaze back towards his monitor again as he sits idly for a few seconds, teeth grinded into one another as his jaw tightens. "I'm just a fucking idiot."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can't say that."

"Please." San pleads, hands wrapping around the edge of Wooyoung's bed frame. "Please let me in."

"You don't want to know the real me." Wooyoung shakes his head, leaning forwards to shut off his playstation and monitors, eyes still avoiding his friend.

"But I do."

"What if I lied to you?"

"You didn't lie to me-"

"I did, San. I did fucking lie to you." The words hit San like a truck, but Wooyoung doesn't bother to look at him to see how badly the words affected him. "I was never sick."

"So. . . why did you miss so much time in class?"

"It's not that simple," Wooyoung leans back into his chair, head tilting back to find the familiar ceiling he's grown awfully acquainted with.

"I've got all the time in the world." San begs with his tone. He wants to know; he needs to know. All Wooyoung had to do was let his walls down, but something inside of him screamed and pleaded for him to keep it locked inside.

The moment Wooyoung finally looks at San, his heart breaks instantly. San was crying, a few accidental tears leaking over the edge of his lashes and curling around his jaw. Wooyoung hasn't seen him cry before, at least, not like this. Wooyoung has no words, everything that he was going to say was washed down the drain, leaving him wordless and filled to the brim with guilt.

"Please, Wooyoung. Please be honest with me."

"I'm scared to be honest with you, San." Wooyoung bites his cheek, turning to look away for a second. "I'm afraid you'll hate me."

"Never." San admits softly, tears dripping over the edge again. "I won't leave you, Wooyoung. There's nothing to be scared of. It's just me here."

"That's what's so scary. It's just you."

"Just me? You're scared of me?" San watches Wooyoung's gaze fall back towards him, eyes clouding with tears.

"I'm scared of how much I fucking like you, San. I like you so much it kills me inside."

There's a long silence that follows Wooyoung's statement, and Wooyoung is filled with immediate dread.

"W-what?"