SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan

47

it's not long before wooyoung is kissing san again.

and again.

and again, and again, and again, and again.

everything about the boy, from his subtle touches to his silk-like lips, and all of his charming smiles in between, is just heavenly, and wooyoung doesn't know how or if he'll ever get enough of him.

eyelids grown heavy in drowsiness, wooyoung hums lazily as san pecks his swollen lips. he dives in to kiss the younger properly, right as his mouth widens into an involuntary yawn. wooyoung stretches his palm out over his mouth, giggling sheepishly.

"see, you just ruined it again, wooyo," san mutters lightheartedly.

wooyoung charges his fist into san's shoulder weakly. "i just got off an eleven-hour flight, spare me some fucking empathy."

"you insist as if sleep ever crosses your mind."

scoffing meaninglessly, wooyoung chooses his weapon to be the back of his hand this time round. but then, he rests his chin on the same place, his body melting like goo into san's arms.

frankly he likes it like this, the soothing quiet and the embraced limbs, just as much as he likes the kisses. just him and san and the crazy rhythm of his flustered heart, wooyoung feels... euphoric. truly.

though, he doesn't know what this means for them. now that they've pretty much confessed to one another, only without any direct words, he doesn't know what the foreseeable future can bring forth. shockingly, however, wooyoung doesn't mind the unknown. anything can happen to either of them, now, tomorrow, or the day after. but he has san.

there's still a whole bunch of nerve-wracking things wooyoung has yet to figure out, but he has the stupid, gorgeous boy he came back to. san, who he's here with right now. san, who proves time and time again that he cares unconditionally. san, who makes it okay when nothing else does.

and so, wooyoung is going to put his all in making sure san can have him, too.

abruptly, wooyoung yawns once more. the corners of his eyes glint with tears.

as if to spike his attention, san's fingers squeeze the dip of his hips; even despite the fabric hindering any skin from coming into contact, a wavelength of thrilled sparks shoot through wooyoung's veins. "not a chance i'm letting you pass out on my couch like this, so get up," san softly orders, gazing down at him expectantly.

wooyoung mumbles a string of non-existent words in defiance, slipping his head into the crook of the latter's neck. unintentionally, his lips brush over san's collarbone, and he has to bite back a whimsical smile at the rather happy accident.

"c'mon, wooyo." san starts a rhythm against wooyoung's sides. "i don't know when the last time was where you got some proper sleep — and honestly, i'd rather keep it that way — but as long as you're here, you're going to get the rest you need. okay?"

"sannie..." wooyoung whines quietly.

he may have been better off if he kept it to himself, however, because san is committed. "i'm making sure of that, sweetheart."

"fine." deciding to surrender, perhaps out of flattery just partially, wooyoung gnaws at his lip. maybe he's thinking too far ahead already, but daringly, he blurts out, "would i be in mingi's room again, or would i..."

wooyoung's voice is taut with nervousness, his breath hitching in his dry throat.

the fingers drumming against him comes to a halt along with his words, and he screws his eyes shut fearfully.