(no) Strings Attached

Lines Crossed

Of course, the gravity of his attention.

He sighed as he took in his appearance.

Leather pants, so tight- little to nothing left for his imagination. His wild imagination. And then a barely buttoned black shirt, exposing the dips of his apparently muscled chest.

But it wasn't just that it was the way he was leaning against the far wall, drink in hand, looking effortlessly smug as always.

Some idiotic, bubbly girl busying his ears with probably flirty conversational topics.

Ugh.

Then their eyes met, and just like that, the invisible pull between them yanked tight. San had the nerve to wink at him, eyebrows slightly raised in maybe surprise to see him after days.

Wooyoung scoffed, ripping his gaze away. No. He wasn't dealing with this tonight.

He beelined for the kitchen, grabbing a drink, ignoring the heat creeping up his neck.

San had been everywhere lately. In his head. Under his skin. Ever since that almost-kiss, Wooyoung couldn't shake him. It was infuriating.

And San? San fucking knew.

He just focused with filling his cup with enough alcohol to forget his mistakes.

His many, many, mistakes.

Then he wandered around in hopes he finds the coach that was hidden by the ungodly amount of bodies in one closed space.

Then,

"Alright, listen up!"

The voice cut through the music, drawing attention to a circle forming in the living room.

Oh, hell no.

Truth or Dare.

Wooyoung turned to leave—

"Where do you think you're going?"

A hand caught his wrist, and he knew before even turning that it was San.

He ignored his heart first.

Wooyoung sighed then, giving him a deadpan look. "Anywhere but here."

"But you made me miss you, professor." San gave a loop sided smile.

San just smirked at the way Wooyoung rolled his eyes, tugging him back toward the group.

"Come on, baby. What's a party without a little fun?"

His pulse spiked. The nickname. The damn teasing lilt in San's voice. He should've walked away. Should've shoved him off and left. Instead, he let himself be pulled in.

The game started light—harmless truths, stupid dares. Until, inevitably—

"Wooyoung. San."

Mingi's voice was full of amusement.

Wooyoung already hated whatever was coming next.

"I dare you two to kiss."

Silence.

Then—cheers, whistles, oh, this is gonna be good muttered somewhere in the background.

Wooyoung went rigid. "You're joking."

"Nope." Mingi sipped his drink, looking unbothered. "Rules are rules."

"Then I choose to dri—"

"But I don't partner" San interrupted giving him an audacious wink, before faking a pout.