(no) Strings Attached

Game Not Fun Anymore

He always had something sharp to say.

San felt irritation prickle under his skin. "Wow. You're really committing to the silent treatment, huh?"

Still nothing.

Okay.

Fine.

San reached out and hooked his finger under Wooyoung's chin, tilting his face toward him.

That got a reaction.

Wooyoung's eyes snapped to his, wide and dark and filled with something raw.

But San had already touched him. He had already leaned in too close, already let his breath ghost over Wooyoung's lips like a dare.

Wooyoung hated when he did this.

Because it made it obvious.

Made it dangerously obvious.

That despite the anger, despite the hurt, despite everything—

San still got under his skin.

Wooyoung jerked his chin out of his grip, lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't touch me."

San smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"This again?"

Wooyoung didn't reply.

San leaned back, stretching his arms above his head like he wasn't at all affected, like something in his chest hadn't tightened at the way Wooyoung had looked at him just now.

Distant.

Detached.

Like San was just... anyone.

San wasn't sure why that pissed him off.
He tapped his pen against his desk again.
"You're no fun today," he muttered, more to himself than anything.

Wooyoung kept typing.

San exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders.

Fine. Whatever. If Wooyoung wanted to sulk, then so be it.

It wasn't like San cared.

(Except he did.)

The weight of the silence was starting to itch under San's skin. He hated it.

Which is why, when Wooyoung suddenly pushed his laptop toward him, brows furrowed in focus, San perked up immediately.

"Look," Wooyoung muttered, pointing at something on the screen. "I did the rough outline for our project. Just go over it and—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up." San cut him off with a smirk, leaning in again. "You're actually talking to me? What an honor."

Wooyoung gave him a flat look. "I will throw my laptop at you."

San grinned. There it was.

And just like that, the world tilted back to its usual rhythm.

San leaned closer, just to see how much he could push. "Do it. I dare you."

Wooyoung's eye twitched. "I fucking hate you."
San beamed. "Nah, you don't."

The younger huffed in frustration, looking back at his screen. "Just read the damn thing."

San chuckled, finally turning his attention to the laptop.

The moment passed.

But something still lingered in the air between them.

Something unspoken.

Something unresolved.

And neither of them were quite ready to deal with it.

Not yet.

But eventually?

Yeah.

It was going to explode.

And when it did—

San wasn't sure either of them would make it out unscathed.

The moment should have settled.

They had work to do.

But San still wasn't satisfied.

He could feel the shift in Wooyoung, the way the younger had shut himself off in a way that wasn't just playful irritation—no, this was different. This was something San couldn't quite place, something that sat wrong in his chest.

But before he could push again—before he could find a way to get anything real out of Wooyoung—

A voice interrupted.

"Oh? You two are actually working?"

San's eyes flickered up just as Yeosang slid into the seat across from them, setting down his iced coffee with a raised brow.

The interruption was jarring. Not because Yeosang wasn't welcome, but because the tension between San and Wooyoung was so thick that it felt like a third person had no business being there.

San smirked anyway, leaning back in his chair. "We always work hard, Sangie."

Yeosang didn't even dignify that with a response. Instead, his sharp gaze shifted to Wooyoung, clearly picking up on the tension San was pretending didn't exist.

And Wooyoung?

He was way too quick to latch onto the distraction.

"We're going over the project outline," he said smoothly, voice suddenly so casual it made San's eye twitch.

San hated that.

Hated that Wooyoung could switch off the moment Yeosang arrived, like whatever had just happened between them wasn't still hanging in the air.

Yeosang, of course, wasn't stupid. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he glanced between them.

"Right," he drawled, tone laced with amusement.

"And here I thought you two were flirting."

Wooyoung made a noise of pure exasperation.
"No one is flirting—"

San grinned, way too pleased. "Wooyoung doesn't like to call it flirting."

Yeosang snorted. "Oh, I know. He calls it suffering."

Wooyoung shot them both a glare. "I hate both of you."

Yeosang took a slow sip of his coffee. "Mm. I know."

San just smirked, but his mind was elsewhere.
Because despite Wooyoung snapping back into normal mode, despite him throwing his usual attitude, despite Yeosang making the moment lighthearted—

San still felt it.

That something between them had shifted.

And he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

A/N
Even though I wrote that the tension between them made me uncomfortable lol.

I hope you liked this chapter, it's our first San-Perspective yay🤭