perhaps, you | woosan

Chapter Thirty Eight

Warning: Talks about the love making, but the focus is on feels and not the details. So I'd say it's safe to read? I'd recommend you stay away from your parent's vicinity though.

POV: San

The moment San fluttered his eyes open, he wondered if he was still in a dream. The very sight of his love sleeping peacefully within his arms still awed him like it was nothing but a dream—a dream he wished to never wake up from. And with every morning, he felt his heart swell. Especially with how they had spent yesterday, feeling him to the proximity he could ever manage.

Sex was never a challenge to him. No, maybe it was, when he just learnt it, but since then, it was like a need he had to fill in; like breathing. Like eating. Like sleeping. Then when he fell in love with Wooyoung, things changed. He was over the moon when his feelings were accepted, and he had to tame himself when he saw how Wooyoung was so carefree showing his skin around him, or just how he blushed at his words looking endearingly pretty, or how close he nuzzled in the crook of his neck when they cuddled. Really, San thought he would be able to turn into a monk with the amount of self-control he was managing, while all he wanted was to kiss him raw and rough, tear his clothes apart, run his fingers to every corner of his body, and love him to bits and pieces.

But he was scared. He could see how Wooyoung gave him his genuine feelings, and that he loved him, which made his heart throb every time like a teenager in love, but somewhere at the back of his mind, he was scared. Scared that if Wooyoung looked at his flesh body, and realised everything was different when they were both the same gender, different from what he knew of relationships, then he might snap out of his dream. San never got together with someone who had lived straight in their lives.

And now as he watched the defenceless man in his arms, brushing away his messy blonde bangs, he couldn't help but feel love blossom in his heart. Sex with someone had always been a way of escape for San. To forget his miserable past, to run away from reality, and just drown himself in a sham of brief pleasure. But sex with Wooyoung was the best thing he had experienced. He felt so close to him, as he poured every ounce of love he'd ever felt, it wasn't enough, but it was close enough to 'love'—ah, and that's why people probably called it 'making love'. It never felt so true.

San dropped a kiss on his cheek, and smiled as the other mumbled in his sleep. He was going to take his time drinking in the beautiful sight, until the love of his life fluttered his eyes open and gave him a drowsy smile.

POV: Wooyoung

The first thing Wooyoung noticed was how his body felt so heavy, as if he had run a full-day marathon. The next thing he noticed was the ache at some part of the body he had never felt.

"Shit," he slurred, snapping himself from the dark.

"Morning, princess. What a way to greet," the velvety voice dropped from the top, and he tilted his head to meet San's eyes.

"Sorry...hey," he muttered, averting his gaze once again. Why the fuck was San glowing ever more brightly this morning?

"Does it hurt?" he asked with concern in his voice, tracing his hands on Woooyoung's waist that sent shivers down his spine.

"Yeah," he admitted shortly, and everything that happened yesterday flashed in his mind. He wished he had a way to control his blood flows, but he didn't, and it must have been clear for San how he recalled the details about—from the blush on his cheeks.

He was wrecked. He was delirious. He basically begged. He lost himself in between.

It was shameful, to say the least. The kind of things he'd said. The kind of sounds he made. The kind of moves he made. Fuck.

And then there was San; who was utterly, mind blowingly, overwhelmingly, nefariously, hot.

Wooyoung didn't regret it. If anything, he'd do it all over again—more times, the better.

He'd never get enough of it. Because it was San.

"Maybe a massage...and a cream? Ah, but let me get you water first," San blabbered quickly, and attempted to roll out of the bed.

Wooyoung clinged on him, giving a whiny sound. Everything he suggested sounded better—but not better than having San cuddling him. San curled in obediently, brushing Wooyoung's back.

"I hope I wasn't horrible though," he said, now drawing circles on his back.

Wooyoung pinched his nose, gaining a grumble from San. Did his state under his body not tell him enough that it was nothing less than fucking amazing? But Wooyoung wasn't going to say that. Not when his face was already burning in embarrassment with the memory of yesterday.

Instead he decided to say, "We literally broke two rules of this room."

"Rules are meant to be broken," San replied defiantly.

Wooyoung couldn't help but chuckle at his confidence, "San, do you literally hear what you're saying?"

"No, I'd rather hear your adorable giggle."

Wooyoung's cheeks blushed in an instant before he could squeeze out the most sarcastic line that came to his mind, to pretend he wasn't pleased, even an inch. "Geez, you should really watch your mouth."

"No, I'd rather watch you go shy for my words," San mounted those tooth-aching words, and Wooyoung could feel his teasing stare burning up the other's body further.

His heartbeat was thundering and he cringed, but he knew he liked it—no, loved it. He would melt at any cavity words of San's.

"...Fuck me," he mumbled in defeat.

"Gladly."

"San, it's called figure of speech...I didn't mean it, oh shit. AH! San, sto...ah...!"

A/N:

And the rest is up to your imaginations.

Although if I were to be super honest, I think San will only tease him and not do anything, because he wouldn't want to over work his Woo.