My Significant Bother - WooSan

Chapter 22

The walk to his dorm is far shorter than Wooyoung had hoped it would be. His hands may be shaking, just a bit, as he pulls open the door to their floor. And he gets halfway down the hall to their room before panic sets in. What if San doesn't want to hear him out? What if he just yells at Wooyoung instead? Or, what if Wooyoung can't think of the right words to say? What if it all comes out as a jumbled mess and he only makes things worse?

Fuck it. He pushes open the door anyway. And San's not there. Wooyoung chews his lip, looking around, as if San could be hiding somewhere. But unless he's under the beds, he's not. So Wooyoung sits down at the desk, turned to face the door, and he waits. And the longer he waits, the more nervous he gets, until he's ready to jump out of the chair and leave the room.

San comes in before he can. He's wearing a thick hoodie and sweatpants, and Wooyoung's pretty sure half of that belongs to Hongjoong. San softly shuts the door behind himself and leans against it, head ducked. He looks- he looks hurt, like what Wooyoung said to him earlier had truly, deeply wounded him. So Wooyoung sucks it up, closes his eyes, and says a sincere, genuine, "I'm sorry." When he opens his eyes, San's still got his head ducked, but his gaze meets Wooyoung's. His brown eyes are narrowed and distrustful. "For what, exactly?" Wooyoung squirms. "Um. A lot of things?" San nods. "You should be."

"Yeah, but so should you," Wooyoung points out. San nods again, pushing away from the wall. His feet drag across the floor on the way to his bed, like he's too tired to fully lift them. He falls onto it, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. Wooyoung doesn't bother him, figures San needs a moment and lets him have it. When he finally lifts his head again, he says, "I was trying to win you over. With the chocolates, and the..." He waves a hand. "Song lyrics," Wooyoung supplies. Once more, San silently nods his confirmation. "I thought you were fucking with me, that's why I reacted that way. But Hongjoong said you weren't, and Mingi yelled at me, and-" "Mingi yelled at you?" San looks completely shocked. "Right? I didn't see it coming, either." Wooyoung slides a hand through his hair. "He told me I should apologize, too."

San stiffens, expression going blank. "So that's why you're doing it, then," he says coldly. "Because Mingi told you to." Wooyoung is out of the chair in seconds. He kneels in front of San, hands hesitantly resting on his thighs, in case San doesn't want to be touched. But San doesn't push him away, so he takes that as encouragement. "That's not why I'm apologizing," he says lowly. "I mean, that's why I'm doing it now, but that's- I'm not saying it just because Mingi told me I should. I'm saying it because I mean it." San snorts, disbelieving. "Right."

"San," Wooyoung pleads. "What are you sorry for, then?" San asks. He's sitting with his back straight, hands clenched on the bed at his sides, eyes on the wall above Wooyoung's head. "If you mean it, then what are you sorry for? Specifically?" Wooyoung chews the inside of his lip. It makes him sick, how many things could fill in the blank here. So, so many options that it's really no wonder San hates him. Maybe Wooyoung was justified in his hatred for San, too, but that doesn't make it okay. They'd both fucked up, as Mingi said.

"For not thanking you for the chocolates," he decides, going with the last offence first. "And the song lyrics. Even if it was cheesy as hell." San groans. "Can we just pretend that never happened, please? God, that's almost as bad as the Christmas party when I set up the lights and got your present and you never showed up. You make me do a lot of embarrassing things, apparently." "The lights?" Wooyoung asks, completely lost. San's face flushes. "I, uh, borrowed a few Christmas lights from the party and hung them up. I thought it'd be romantic." "And I didn't show up," Wooyoung states. "And you didn't show up," San repeats. "I felt like an idot. It- it was definitely one of the lower points of my life. Here I was, ready to spill my heart out to you, and you dont even show. Like, I could have handled the rejection just fine. I don't expect you to feel things for me just because I feel them for you. But you didn't even come, and I realized afterwards that I was stupid to think that you would."