perhaps, you | woosan

Chapter Thirty Five

POV: Wooyoung

"Woo, you alright?"

That voice and the soft brushing on the nape of his neck was what snapped out Wooyoung from his zone.

"Yeah," he turned to the worried looking San, and gave an assuring smile, before he took another bite on his chicken.

San and Wooyoung were in the cafeteria, having lunch like usual after their English class. And it was that very English class that was bothering him, when he saw his friend quarelling with a guy at the end of class. He wanted to approach Yeosang, make sure everything was okay, but Yeosang still hadn't talked to him and he wasn't sure if he had the right to do so. The quarrel was only brief though, before the guy huffed and left the room, so it must not have been something serious.

San had been long done with his lunch, and what remained was an empty plate before him.

"It's about Yeosang right?" he asked with concern in his voice. "You really should just go talk to him."

Wooyoung was silent, half of it because he was busily chewing chicken, and half of it because he didn't know what to say.

He wanted to reconcile with his best friend. He obviously did. But he hurt him for three bloody years and it was only selfish for him to want to be by his side, while all he could offer was a position as a friend.

There was a thud of a plastic tray on the table, followed by a tenor voice.

"Your talk better be something of a hilarious crack joke, or else I'm set off."

Wooyoung snapped his head up at the familiar voice, that one voice he's used to hear for six years—sometimes insulting, sometimes comforting, but nonetheless homey.

"Yeosang..."

The almond haired male gave a grunt, and resided himself on the seat opposite him, started munching on a kimchi.

"I gotta get to my job now. Catch you later, both of you," said San, giving a light pat on Wooyoung's shoulder before swiftly leaving the place. Wooyoung mused at how considerate and smooth his boyfriend was, with giving the two space they needed.

"Um...Yeo," Wooyoung hesitantly initiated to the man who was busily chunking a pint of rice in his mouth. "Was everything okay in the English class?"

Swallowing his food, Yeosang scoffed, "Okay? No, it's not. Some dick came up to me and gloated on how my friend had turned out gay because of his roommate and how he feels sorry for me or something."

"Shit, sorry-" Wooyoung blurted. He was surprised by how the news was travelling, not that they were hiding but it was nothing to announce to the strangers, really. But such rumours had been spreading around since before confirming, so perhaps it was another of those. Nonetheless, that wasn't important right now, but more of the fact that Yeosang was being attacked while he had nothing to do with this.

He wanted to apologise again, but he could only shut up, meeting Yeosang's glare.

"What are you sorry for? You've done nothing wrong, have you? The only sorry you should feel is for that prick's sad life which is probably so tedious that he has to mind someone else's business to entertain himself."

Under the circumstances of their current relationship, Wooyoung probably shouldn't laugh. But he failed miserably at how his friend hasn't changed one bit, with his sharp tongue that could slice anyone into pieces, and he wasn't a stranger to it himself.

Yeosang gave a side glance at the man opposite him and curved his lips.

"Jung Wooyoung, you'd be so hopeless without a friend like me, hm?"

"Can't argue," Wooyoung admitted without a second thought.

He wiped his tears at the corner of his eyes, relishing on the restoration. He drank in the sight of his best friend that he missed so much; handsome and defiant under a noon light shining through windows.

"Are you guys dating now?"

Wooyoung swallowed a sip of water that he just took in. He wasn't prepared for the question—he knew he was supposed to tell him sooner or later, but he didn't think it'd be now. To break the news to a person he just rejected, and to someone who he just reconciled with—didn't sound very safe.

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Then he opened his mouth, "so-"

"If you dare say sorry I'll choke you with these chopsticks."

Wooyoung gulped from the sudden threat. Yeosang never went easy on him, and his low tone in his voice was intimidating.

"Are you happy?" he asked, voice softer.

"...Yes, I am," he responded, slowly glancing up to meet the other male's eyes. His eyes were carrying warmth, his lips softened in a smile.

Yeosang whispered gently, "I'm happy for you."