* * *

Wooyoung wakes up the next day with groggy eyes, a parched throat and what he thinks is the beginning of an headache searing the back of his head. It's annoying, just like those darned birds cackling at the front of his windows, engaged in a full-blown conversation while he's just trying to get some shut-eye.

Wooyoung attempts shielding his face with his pillows, but the early morning sunlight is resilient, shining through the covers like a desperate ex that won't leave you alone.

Then something taps his shoulder, feather-light and fleeting. Wooyoung turns rigid, fearing he's now maybe being haunted by a ghost when the touch gets more persistent. More real.

Wooyoung has half a mind to snap at whoever it is, ghost or not, but before he can attempt drop-kicking them (or do something close to it), he hears a voice.

"Wake up, Wooyoung. Or would you rather sunshine?"

Wooyoung doesn't move, not convinced he heard right for a second there, and then one of his pillows is being taken away from him.

Instantly the room turns brighter than ever, unforgivably harsh on Wooyoung's eyeballs. He groans, feeling for the second pillow when it's grabbed too.

"You need to wake up, sunshine," the voice continues, low and undeniably familiar. There's some amusement there too, especially at how adamant Wooyoung is on fighting for his last shred of sleep. "As much as I like seeing you rest, it's almost ten in the morning. You need to eat."

Now, Wooyoung believes deep down inside that this must be some type of dream. Because it's not really San that's talking to him right now, is it? It's not his first time dreaming about the taller boy (and neither will it be the last), and in all of them San somehow always ends up shirtless. So maybe, just maybe, this scenario will turn out like the others.

Only it doesn't, because next thing Wooyoung knows, he's being turned around, his eyes having no choice but to open. And right there, leaning over him with a soothing, angelic smile, is San himself, pillows held hostage in his well-endowed arms.

"You've finally opened your eyes," San comments, fingers carding through Wooyoung's messy dyed hair. "Now you need to eat."

Vision still blurred without the help of his glasses, Wooyoung continues to believe this isn't real. It can't be. "Is this a dream?"

San shoves the pillows aside and squats to Wooyoung's level. Then he's kissing the younger's forehead, Wooyoung startling at the sensation. "Does this feel like a dream?"

Wooyoung gulps. "A little, yeah."

All of a sudden San pinches his arm. It's not forceful or as painful, but Wooyoung flinches nonetheless.

"Ow," he hisses, glaring daggers at San's blurry features which seem to be enjoying this a little too much, honestly.

"You just felt pain, so it's not a dream," San explains. He ruffles Wooyoung's hair, puts on his glasses, and proceeds to drag him off the bed.

"Wait wait wait," Wooyoung begs, patting down his wild nest of a hair. He blames it on how half awake he still is, because if he wasn't he'd totally be freaking out at how much of a goddamn mess he looks with San in front of him like this. Totally. "Why are you here? Not that I don't want you here -- because I do -- but you've never been here this early before without me calling you first."

Wooyoung hopes he sounds coherent, but with how hoarse his voice is and how many words he's positive he's slurred, he seriously doubts it.

"Your mom did." San opens the bedroom door, leading him out with both his hands on the curves of his waist.

"What?"

"She called me early this morning and said she wanted that waffle recipe really bad. Ended up working on the breakfast with her."

It's then Wooyoung's brain clears to remind him of the fleeting moment his mom had asked for San's phone number last night. He hadn't thought much of it then, figuring the woman just wanted to be close to San after he told her about them.

After he told her about them.

Wooyoung's last trace of sleep is completely wiped off, eyes more alert and the dormant butterflies in his tummy fluttering to life. They enclose his heart and chest, drowning him in his nerves and anxiety.

"Wait -- mom's not at work?" Wooyoung hears himself say right as San brings him out the corridor and into the cool-toned interior of the living room. The crisp, sugary smell of waffles wafts from the kitchen area, the clanging of rinsed utensils prominent.

The rushing water suddenly stops. "Why would I be at work when I'm here making breakfast with my son's boyfriend?"

Wooyoung's heart drops as his mother's face appears, the woman looking far happier than he's ever seen her. And he should be happy she's like this, he knows he should, but this all feels like some fever dream. Hearing her call San his boyfriend reminds him how painfully awkward he feels regarding his mom knowing who he's getting it on with.

"Good morning, mother." Wooyoung clears his throat while San rushes to start setting up the plates, looking right at home in their kitchen. It's then he sees the strawberries he's cutting up.

Ms Jung pats his shoulder, and he guesses he must look quite thirsty because she passes him a glass of juice right then. "No need to sound so formal, dear. I just wanted to spend this morning with you and San, so I called work and asked for my shift to be pushed down."

Wooyoung really appreciates this, because his mom's support is something that's always meant a ton to him. But he also can't concentrate with San in such close proximity, looking so perfect with his jacket and those jeans that hug his legs like second skin. And of course, San will have to sit right next to him and find ways to tease him all through breakfast, knowing he can't do anything about it because his mother will be right there.

Wooyoung nearly chokes on his drink when he makes eye contact with San from the kitchen, the taller's tongue licking whipped cream off his lips. It should be a crime how sensual he looks, Wooyoung feeling so attacked first thing in the freaking morning.

Fortunately, his mother doesn't see a thing. Like a switch's been flipped, San pulls out a chair for the woman, all gentlemanly like his tongue hadn't just sent Wooyoung's mind to unholy places moments prior.

San pulls out a chair for Wooyoung too, eyes twinkling with mirth at the mild glare the shorter shoots him. "Have a seat too, angel. I'll go get the plates."

"He's such a darling, right?" Wooyoung's mother whispers just as San starts gathering the food. "A very nice boy."

It's then San decides on spraying some more whipped cream on his finger, before putting it in his mouth and rolling his eyes so far back like he's orgasming.

Wooyoung wants to fucking evaporate into thin air.

"Wooyoung? Is everything alright?" His mom just has to ask at that moment.

"Yeah? Is everything alright Wooyoung?" San repeats, setting down the plates of thick waffles on the table. They look nothing less than tasty, but Wooyoung is too busy trying to calm down his thrashing heartbeat.

"Want the one with syrup, or the whipped cream?" San questions him once his mom has already began eating. His coy expression is one Wooyoung wants to wipe off badly -- with a kiss, but still.

"What were you doing in that kitchen?" Wooyoung accuses, voice hushed so his mother won't overhear.

"What was I doing?" San inquires, slicing off a bit of waffle and juicy strawberries.

"I don't know," Wooyoung nearly exclaims. "You were the one looking like you were coming -- "

"Is someone coming over?" Ms Jung suddenly asks. Shocked, Wooyoung starts to cough while San giggles like mad into his palm.

"No one, mom," Wooyoung rushes to explain. "Absolutely no one is coming -- "

San laughs harder, in stitches and Wooyoung has half a mind to trip him over his chair. His mom's confused too about his reaction, to make matters worse, but is too polite to bring it up.

"I just remembered a joke, Ms Jung," San eventually explains, wheezing a little. Wooyoung's never seen him laugh so much, and it's both surprising to see and quite breathtaking. Of course, he already knows San has an amazing smile, but when it's coupled with real, authentic laughter, it's a thousand times more awe-inducing. "I never meant to disrupt our breakfast like this."

Our breakfast. Wooyoung doesn't want to think too deeply on it 'cause he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but the way San said that makes it seem like he's already a part of this family.

"It's alright, San. Oftentimes too I remember a joke that cracks me up at the worst moments," Ms Jung replies. Then she looks at Wooyoung. "Don't you want those waffles, dear? San said they're his mom's specialty."

At this, Wooyoung meets San's gaze. "Really?"

"Yeah." The older smiles, extending a forkful to his mouth. "She made them a lot before she got sick."

Wooyoung eyes it and then his mom, but San's eager features are way too difficult to say no to. So he eats the strawberry waffle off the fork, the sweet and savoury flavours blending so exquisitely on his tongue.

"Like it?" San asks as if they're the only two people here, his hand on his thigh warming him right up.

Wooyoung nods, eyes wide when San proceeds to feed him another. Now, he won't mind it as much if his mother wasn't there. But she is, and she's looking at them like she's seeing them for the first time, but with a small smile present.

"I wish you'd allow me to eat by myself," Wooyoung complains, watching as San eats a piece of waffle with the same fork. Indirect kiss, his stupid, stupid mind feels the need to think. "I'm not a fucking baby."

"Language," San commands, as if he doesn't curse after every sentence. "I'm so sorry, Ms Jung. Your son speaks such dirty words at times."

"San!" Wooyoung exclaims, kicking him under the table. "Shut. Up."

"Wooyoung does?" Ms Jung says.

"Mhm. That's why if you allow me ma'am, I'll make sure every bad behaviour of his will never go unpunished -- "

The door bell rings, and Wooyoung leaps out of his chair, the piece of furniture nearly knocking over as he races to see who it is.

The peephole displays a brightly grinning Mingi with Yunho behind him, and although their presence today is certainly unexpected, Wooyoung accepts them with open arms.

Without a moment to spare, he unlocks the door and steps out, his thin velvet pyjamas doing next to nothing to combat the icy winter wind. Goosebumps splatter across his arms, and he rubs them.

"Goodmorning Woo," Mingi greets.

"Hey, guys," Wooyoung says, a smile easily engulfing his face. "And I'm so happy you got discharged, Yunho."

"I'm so happy I got discharged too," Yunho begins, revealing the white box in his hands. "And the fact that Ms Jung supports you being gay made it a whole lot easier to get this for you."

Wooyoung's brows rise. "Get what for me?"

"We figured your mom's at work right now, so we decided to buy you a cake," Mingi squeals, lifting the box's opening to display something that looks very much like a penis. An extremely realistic looking, veiny penis.

Wooyoung's soul comes close to leaving his body entirely. "What the fuck."

"It's satire, kind of, and we realized how funny it'd be to eat a dick cake when you're gay," Yunho explains as if that's what Wooyoung is freaking out about. "How awesome is that?"

Wooyoung's pretty confident his soul has already left him. "Why did you have to buy this and bring it over here?"

"Don't you like it? I mean, we didn't see your mom's car on our way over here -- " Mingi pauses, realization dawning on him. "Your mom's inside isn't she?"

Wooyoung isn't sure he's breathing anymore. The only thing he can do is nod.

"Is that a dick cake or am I hallucinating?" Someone asks right then, and it's San, the guy looking highly puzzled.

"We brought it over to celebrate Wooyoung coming out successfully and all," Mingi answers. "But we thought his mom had gone to work."

"Mom's gonna kill me," Wooyoung mutters.

"Honey? Are those Mingi and Yunho?" Ms Jung asks from the inside, her footsteps approaching.

"Should we just throw it out?" Yunho suggests, but San shakes his head.

"That'll be a waste of nice cake. Hand it over." San then shuts the box and roughly smacks it, the sound jolting Wooyoung from his thoughts. "There. Now it doesn't look like a penis anymore."

His quick thinking saves them, because it isn't long before Wooyoung's mother shows up at the doorway, asking about that cake.

"Oh dear. Poor thing," she gasps at how bashed in it looks, but in the end it doesn't stop any of them from eating it.

* * *

"Thanks for saving my ass back there," Wooyoung says. He's just showered and changed out of his pj's, eyes on the wind-swept curtains of his bedroom. It's easier to focus on them than on the boy currently lying next to him under the covers, dark hair sprawled over the pillows and sweet dimples prominent on his cheeks. "Didn't know what I'd do if my mom ended up showing up to that."

Wooyoung can almost see it: his mother's mortified eyes at the dick cake's appearance, and her high regard for Mingi and Yunho dwindling drastically. He wouldn't have been able to even look her in the eye again if she saw.

"S'okay," San says, tone peaceful and undisturbed. His legs entangle with Wooyoung's, and when Wooyoung shyly reaches for his hand, he lets him hold it. "I knew how much you didn't want her seeing that -- saw it too. And you being comfortable and happy is what I strive for."

Wooyoung's pulse quickens at the feel of San's fingers rubbing over his skin. "You were perfectly content teasing me at breakfast, though."

"Was it too much?" San asks. "If so, I apologize."

"No, no," Wooyoung shakes his head. Looking at San's prettily-shaped eyes is like peering into another universe altogether, his stare lighting his chest with sparks. "I...didn't actually mind it. Just wished my mom wasn't there."

San smirks. "She isn't here now."

Wooyoung licks his lips, his throat dry all of a sudden. "...I know."

San's mouth on his lightly tickles at first and makes him giggle, but it's alright because he feels San smiling too, his kisses soft and slow and turning his mind to mush.

Then San's hands are on Wooyoung's hips, flipping them over so he's now the one on top. Pleasant shivers race up his spine as San rubs his bare stomach, his touch like fire on his flushed skin. His breath hitches when his shirt slips off his arms, landing on the bed, and he groans, San's lips on his shoulders and chest overwhelming in ways he can't describe.

Wooyoung doesn't mind when San holds his ass again. In fact he really likes it, likes how San looks below him, clear want in his eyes. But it's when the taller's fingers skim over his sweatpants that he stiffens, insides coiled with apprehension.

San notes this, worry making its way past his hooded gaze. "Woo?"

"Are we going to have sex?"

San pauses, blinking. "Do you want us to?"

"I'm not -- " Wooyoung sharply inhales. "How does it even work anyway? How -- how do you decide who's um, doing what? It's so confusing."

"Not really," San says. The way he's tracing imaginary shapes over Wooyoung's waist is downright hypnotizing, calming him down somewhat. "It doesn't have to be."

"I can't help but feel that way, though," Wooyoung admits, insecurities peeking through. "When guys and girls hook up it's obvious what's going where."

"That's the beauty of us being two guys," San answers. "We can do it however we want. Sometimes it's more fixed, like who tops and who bottoms, but oftentimes a lot of gay guys are versatile."

Wooyoung's ears are red-hot, a little in disbelief at how he's just casually discussing all this with San. "Which one..." he swallows, nervous especially with San watching him like that, "which one are you? From the top-bottom thing, I mean."

"Well," San strokes his chin as overtly as possible, deepening Wooyoung's embarrassment.

"Just answer me already," Wooyoung begs, nudging San's shoulder. His face is as red as beets, he's sure.

San suddenly leans forward, lips brushing his. "I usually do the fucking. Is that alright with you?"

"I -- " Wooyoung stammers, eyes blown wide at the taller's audacious remark. "I-I guess."

San cups his face. "You look hesitant."

"It's doesn't have anything to do with you wanting to fuck me," Wooyoung looks at where he's straddled on San's lap. "Okay -- it does have something to do with it. I just...have a little problem down there."

"Little problem?" San tilts his head.

"A big problem, rather," Wooyoung elaborates. "Um, I'm not as scared of nudity anymore because of how you helped me, which I'm really thankful for. But I'm not comfortable with how I look down there."

"Does it have to do with your size?" San asks after a moment. His fingers thread through Wooyoung's hair, nurturing. "Because I don't care about that."

Wooyoung's neck heats up. "No! I mean a little? I don't even freaking know."

"...Did something happen?"

"Freshman year is what happened," Wooyoung confesses, his emotions finally boiling over. "I had sports period with Kim Jaehyuk and unfortunately we shared locker rooms too. I'd just finished showering, about to put on my clothes when he tried pantsing me in front of everyone. I didn't let him, but of course he thought that was because I had a small dick."

"That fucking asshole," San swears, jaw clenched, and Wooyoung would've found it attractive if not for how angry he is on the inside. "I'm so sorry, sunshine."

"The jokes were the worst," Wooyoung continues. "But it was embarrassing to talk about, and I didn't need a bigger target on my back, so I just tried to endure it. To my luck, it only took a few months for it to mostly die down, but it had already scarred me."

"I'd only started school with you sophomore year, so I had no idea. If only I knew," San says, but Wooyoung shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything, so there's no need to apologize. I'm just letting you know why I just...freeze up so badly when your hands go there."

San hugs him, and Wooyoung immediately sinks into it, letting the taller's comforting scent wash over him. "I'm sorry, sunshine. We won't do anything of the sort until you're one hundred percent ready for it."

"I want to, though," Wooyoung says, kissing San's cheek. "I want to sleep with you."

"...What if we do something that opens you up to it?" San asks. "Something that'll get you more comfortable with being exposed down there."

"What?"

Wooyoung gulps when San suddenly rests him against his bed, the taller's dark eyes so intense it drives him wild.

"I could go down on you," San suggests. "But you don't have to look. You just have to feel it."

"Y-You want to give me a blowjob?" Wooyoung questions, his whole face bursting with heat.

San nods. "If that's okay? I'll make sure you enjoy it."

Wooyoung knows he has the option to say no, San's made sure of it, but he can't deny how much he wants it. How much he wants San. He's terrified because he's never been like that with anyone before, but he knows San wants him to trust him. He knows he can trust San.

So he nods, heartbeat erratic in his chest. "Okay."

San moves, and starts kissing down Wooyoung's stomach, his lips leaving him all warm and fuzzy. He shifts further, lower and lower until he arrives at the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging the drawstrings loose. And then Wooyoung shuts his eyes, and allows himself to feel.

* * *

Wooyoung's phone screen shines brightly in the dark, but it doesn't matter when he's surfing the web, trying to search for something that's been plaguing his mind without rest.

- no romantic attraction

Wooyoung watches as the results pile up, wanting to back out already. But he knows he's curious, and knows fully well that San likes him and is attracted to his body. He made that super clear this afternoon. What Wooyoung isn't so sure about though, is the romantic aspect. Or if what San feels for him is something more than platonic.

Wooyoung clicks on the first link.

'Aromantic meaning

A person who is aromantic does not develop, or rarely develops romantic attraction for others. However, they do form strong bonds and can have loving relationships without the romance.'

Wooyoung chews his lip as he keeps reading, trying not to let his heart sink.

'That's not to say that aromantic people can never couple up. Some do, and through mutual support and shared experiences, their relationships can be very meaningful.'

He wonders if that's how San feels, wonders if that's who he really is. Regardless of whatever it is though in the end, even if it makes his heart hurt a little, Wooyoung's already aware that San truly cares for him.

* * *

a/n: tho it was kinda obv who guessed it??? and what do u guys think?