(no) Strings Attached

Game Not Fun Anymore

The boy next to him stared at him for approximately 5 seconds before he grabbed his laptop to bring it closer.

San didn't quite love the silence.

"What? Are we gonna spend our study date this dryly?" He pouted.

Actually pouted.

Wooyoung huffed in frustration. "It's not a date. We're in fucking class" he rolled his eyes.

But the fact that he responded had San beaming already.

"Okay. I wouldn't want to make my baby mad." He said oh so casually; taking pride in the gasp the younger emitted.

Wooyoung didn't grace San with another reaction, just exhaled sharply through his nose and focused on his laptop screen like his life depended on it.

San, of course, wasn't having that.

Not when Wooyoung had given him nothing but cold silence for the past half hour, not when San knew he was the reason for it, and definitely not when it was making him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on the desk, eyes trained solely on Wooyoung.

"Baby?" he drawled. "You're ignoring me again."

Wooyoung clicked something aggressively on his laptop, then said, voice tight, "I'm literally right next to you."

San's grin widened. "Yeah, but you're being mean. I don't like it."

Wooyoung scoffed. "That's rich, coming from you."

Oh?

That sparked something inside him.

San tilted his head, letting the weight of those words settle between them. He tapped a lazy rhythm against the desk, watching the way Wooyoung refused to meet his gaze.

"Why are you acting like I broke your heart?" he murmured, voice deceptively soft.

Wooyoung's fingers froze over his keyboard.

San saw it. Felt it.

And fuck, maybe he should not have said that.

Wooyoung slowly—so slowly—turned to look at him.

San had expected anger, some sharp-tongued retort, maybe even an eye-roll.

But instead, all he got was this look.

This tired, unreadable look that made San's stomach twist in a way he really didn't like.
Wooyoung blinked once, twice, then exhaled and turned back to his screen without a word.

San clenched his jaw.

That wasn't fun. That wasn't satisfying. That was—

What the fuck even was that?

He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, but it did.

San wanted a reaction.

He needed one.

So he did what he did best.

He pushed again.

Sliding closer, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "You really mad at me, baby?"

Nothing.

San's smirk twitched. "C'mon, professor, don't tell me you're holding a grudge. That's not very mature of you."

Nothing.

That wasn't normal.

Wooyoung always bit back.