Can you feel the moon || Woosan

Chapter 2

Wooyoung closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The window opened again, and so did the door of the fridge, the light inside flickering.

"Choi San."

Both the window and the fridge slammed shut. San trembled in anticipation, a wild grin coming to his lips as he reached out to take the shells away from Wooyoung's head.

"Mmh ?"

"You like crepes, right ?"

"Wh-"

But it was too late, and before San could comprehend why Wooyoung was suddenly moving, the younger's hand slammed into his face, the batter they had previously prepared now splattered on his skin. He heard a giggle, felt the mixture sliding on his nose...

The fight was on.

Flour, eggs and sugar went flying and ended on their clothes, hair, faces, dirtying the kitchen and filling it with giggles and screams. Their precious batter was mostly on San's head now, sliding in place it shouldn't be sliding in, but Wooyoung wasn't any better with the slimy substance of eggs disappearing in the low-cut neckline of his shirt.

He tried to escape San's threat to empty the flour bag on his head and ran toward the sink, but San managed to stop him before he could open the faucet. He slammed both his hands against the kitchen counter and efficiently trapped Wooyoung between his arms.

"You can't move now," he breathed out, panting, once Wooyoung turned to face him.

"Mmh. I can't."

They were close now. Too close, probably, but San didn't feel like moving. Wooyoung was smiling, and he smelled good, something light and floral, like the pink roses San's mom liked to buy on Sundays to embellish the house.

He also smelled like eggs, which wasn't that great, but it made San smile.

Their eyes met and San's heart skipped a beat, only to start racing when Wooyoung put his arms around his neck, leaning closer and closer, until his breath tickled San's lips.

"I don't want to, anyway."

San was about to pass out. His heart was thumping against his chest and with Wooyoung pressed against him, there was no way he couldn't feel it too. Given his smirk, he probably did. Fuck, Wooyoung's smirks were devilish but they made him look so hot and he was so close, San felt like drowning and reliving at the same time.

He knew he was supposed to say something, maybe flirt back, move... But Wooyoung's gaze seemed to be keeping him there, dazed, unable to act to his will.

Then slowly, the smirk turned into a smile. A soft one.

"Let's wash up," Wooyoung murmured.

He pressed a kiss against San's cheek and wiggled out of his embrace, before walking away.

He left San alone in the kitchen, with his beating heart and wide eyes. It wasn't until San heard the door of the bathroom closing that his body remembered how to move again, and he brought a hand to the cheek Wooyoung had kissed, meeting a disgusting mixture of flour and egg there. He smiled.

He hoped they would bake together again, soon.

–––

"Your hair is floating. Is it supposed to be floating ?"

"San. Please, shut up."

San clasped his mouth shut, acknowledging the seriousness in Wooyoung's tone, but it didn't stop him from sulking for being rejected.

For once, Wooyoung had allowed San to stay in the living room with him as he cast a circle, rather than forcing him to wait alone in the kitchen. He had drawn a large circle around himself with coarse salt he spread on the floor and forbade San to approach it.