Can you feel the moon || Woosan

Chapter 3

San couldn't even remember how he got back to Wooyoung's house. He had barely looked at the hour after waking up with a start and had slipped into random sweatpants, knowing damn well he would regret looking so disheveled later, but too concerned about Wooyoung's wellbeing to care now. He had tried to tame his hair in the bus using his phone as a mirror, but there was not much his fingers could do.

Once he reached Wooyoung's house, he was pleased to notice the blinds were nowhere to be seen, the living room perfectly visible from where he stood, and bathed with the morning light of the sun.

"Woo ?" San called, carefully opening the door once his knocks had been left unanswered.

He was welcomed by a grumble, which naturally put a smile on his face. If Wooyoung could grumble, that meant he was feeling better.

After taking off his shoes and putting his phone on the bedside table, San sat down on the bed, just like he had done the night before. Wooyoung was lying on top of his sheets this time, arms thrown around a fluffy pillow pressed against his chest. He had apparently changed during the night, his jeans replaced by grey sweatpants, and a black turtleneck covering the upper part of his body. It slid upward as he shifted, revealing a parcel of his golden skin and San forced himself to look away when his fingers itched to touch it.

If his intentions were good at first, they didn't work in his favor. As soon as his gaze settled on something that wasn't Wooyoung, long fingers wrapped around his wrist and he got dragged to the mattress, falling on top of Wooyoung's body. Before he could protest or ask if he had hurt Wooyoung in his fall, two long arms circled his waist and brought him close, preventing him from pulling away.

"Better," Wooyoung mumbled, his warm breath tickling the skin of San's collarbone.

San wasn't sure what Wooyoung was referring to, but he was glad nonetheless. Wooyoung's arms were firm around him, his voice steady. There was no doubt he would be back on his feet as soon as he decided to start his day.

"Good morning to you too," San teased, relaxing in Wooyoung's embrace. "Who the fuck sleep wearing a turtleneck ?"

Wooyoung didn't bother with an answer, but San felt his smile against his skin. He kissed him there and giggled when San shivered, before he shifted their bodies so they could lie on their side, finally facing each other.

San's heart did a flip when his gaze fell on Wooyoung's face.

Pretty...

The sun was made to shine on Wooyoung. It made his skin glow and his eyes twinkle with a million stars. Hair sprawled messily on the white sheet, falling against his forehead, against his cheeks still pink and puffed by sleep, he looked like a prince, some kind of royalty San wasn't supposed to touch, wasn't even supposed to look at.

Yet here San was, bringing a hand to Wooyoung's cheek and pressing his palm against the warm skin he loved so much. Wooyoung smiled, and San was certain the sun was shining brighter through the windows.

"Good morning, Sannie. Let's make pancakes ?"

–

Wooyoung seemed to be fully recovered from whatever he had the previous night, wearing his usual blinding smile and laughing as loudly as he would do in any other circumstance. He had casually dismissed San's attempts to understand why he had looked so ill, explaining it happened occasionally, mostly when he was tired, and there was nothing to worry about.

His nonchalance would have been convincing if San couldn't read him like an open book. He could see it in the way Wooyoung never met his gaze as he babbled out a lie, or how often he passed his hand through his hair, voice just a bit higher than usual. The doubt mostly came from his eyes though, because San had lost himself in them for too long over the past weeks not to notice the silent plea hiding behind the stars shining there, waiting for someone to see, for someone to understand and help.