Trust

Oh

"Hey", he replies just as Wooyoung makes his way over to the couch, scooting sideways to make some space for him too.

Being honest... San has no clue what exactly they're up to now. But he doesn't mind. Kissing, making out, further stuff – it had never sounded more appealing. He just kinda wants to do it all with Wooyoung.

Although maybe not everything right now.

But eventually...

The sofa cushion to San's right sinks in as Wooyoung plops down on it, close enough for their knees to touch. San doesn't know if it's just him, but this little contact already has his heartbeat accelerating.

Yeah, he definitely wants to do it all with Wooyoung.

Turning sideways to face Wooyoung, San lets his eyes travel all over his face... and stops at the mole under Wooyoung's right- no, left, eye. It looks really adorable. Out of instinct, San brings his hand up to caress the mole with his thumb.

For a second, Wooyoung flinches away. But as San doesn't budge in running his thumb over the mole in earnest, he stills. "What are you doing?" His voice sounds hoarse.

San shrugs. "You've got a mole there. It's cute."

Wooyoung's breathless laughter that follows his words, and his flushed cheeks give San enough confidence to lean forward and leave a peck on the mole.

Just as he's about to pull back again though, there's suddenly a pair of lips on his own – and San finds himself leaning in, wanting more, wanting it again and again.

It's kind of amazing: San had thought he would feel insecure about just so many things, from kissing to... well, more – but now, he's nothing but excited despite his and Wooyoung's obvious differences in experience.

Although... Okay, he still doesn't like to think about those differences. He doesn't like to think about Wooyoung hooking up with random guys. But as Wooyoung's lips are moving slowly against San's, and as his tongue carefully runs over San's bottom lip, it's easy to disregard those thoughts.

San gladly angles his head to open his mouth a bit for Wooyoung – and this is also something he could never completely grasp before: how having someone else's tongue in his mouth could be hot. Imagination only brings you so far.

San saw it in movies, read it in books, heard his friends talking about it... but he never really got it. Until now – because here he is, french-kissing Wooyoung like there's no tomorrow, and getting aroused by it so easily.

It's not even difficult for San anymore to understand why he's reacting to Wooyoung's kisses the way he does: it's because of Wooyoung. It's because he likes Wooyoung a lot – because, somehow, that's what makes everything so amazingly good.

San knows he could never hook up with some random stranger, even if they'd be as skilled in making out as Wooyoung. Because it's not about skill. It's about not being random but wanted, not convenient but meaningful.

And this – kissing Wooyoung, going just a little bit further as San arches his back to press his chest against Wooyoung's side because he feels like otherwise he might combust... This doesn't feel random at all. It feels like something. Like being high on emotions and alcohol and adrenaline in all the best ways, like needing Wooyoung here, not just anyone, only Wooyoung.

Wooyoung.

And when Wooyoung murmurs "Sannie" and gently runs his thumb over San's bottom lip as they detach, San thinks that Wooyoung might feel a similar way.