Work Text:
The bar was alive with energy, the hum of conversation blending with the pulsing beat of the music. Wooyoung sat at the counter, swirling the ice in his glass absentmindedly. He wasn’t usually one for crowded places, but tonight, something had drawn him out—a restless energy he couldn’t shake. He glanced around the room, his sharp eyes scanning the sea of faces, when they landed on him.
The man was leaning casually against the bar, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding. He had an air of confidence that wasn’t overbearing, just... magnetic. Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the way his lips curled into a smirk as he caught Wooyoung staring. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Wooyoung felt a jolt of something—curiosity, intrigue, maybe even a flicker of attraction. He quickly looked away, his cheeks warming, but he could feel the man’s gaze still on him.
When Wooyoung dared to glance back, the man was walking toward him, his steps smooth and deliberate. Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral, his walls firmly in place. He wasn’t one to fall for cheesy lines or empty charm, and he braced himself for the inevitable attempt.
“Hey,” the man said, his voice warm and teasing as he leaned in slightly. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. You’ve got this vibe that’s... magnetic. What’s your name? Or should I just call you mine?”
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He wasn’t about to let this stranger off easy. “How could you notice me in this room full of people? You couldn’t have seen me that well,” he said, laughing lightly. “Also, I don’t belong to anyone. No one gets to call me theirs.”
The man chuckled, undeterred, and leaned in a little closer. Wooyoung could smell the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and spicy, like sandalwood and amber. It was... nice.
“Fair point,” the man said, his voice dropping slightly. “Maybe it’s not that I saw you first—it’s that I felt you. You know, like when the room gets quiet even when it’s loud? That’s you.”
Wooyoung’s smirk softened, and he looked at the man with a mix of curiosity and amusement. There was something about the way he spoke—confident but not arrogant, playful but not insincere. It was disarming, and Wooyoung found himself wanting to know more.
“Okay, you got me with the first part,” Wooyoung admitted, tilting his head slightly. “Even if it’s a bit of an ordinary pickup line. Which makes me think a night with you would also be... ordinary.”
The man’s eyes sparkled with challenge, and Wooyoung felt a thrill run through him. He hadn’t expected this to be so... fun.
“Ordinary?” the man repeated, his grin widening. “Oh, I promise you, I’m anything but. I mean, sure, I might start with a line or two, but that’s just the warm-up. The real magic happens when we stop talking and start... well, you know.”
Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Worst case, I get a good story to tell my friends. Best case? Let’s just say you won’t be calling me ordinary by sunrise.”
The man’s grin didn’t falter, but Wooyoung’s expression turned serious. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it, but the words spilled out before he could stop them.
“Worst case... you must not live in the real world if that’s what you think the worst case is,” Wooyoung said, his voice quieter now. “The worst case would be me ending up six feet under.”
The man’s playful demeanor shifted immediately. His smile faded, and his eyes softened with something that looked like genuine concern.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice steady but gentle. “I got carried away, and I’m sorry. That was insensitive, and I didn’t mean to make light of something so serious. The world can be a dangerous place, and I respect that you’re cautious.”
Wooyoung looked down, his cheeks flushing slightly. He hadn’t expected such a sincere response, and it caught him off guard.
“That’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m a bit irritable these days when it comes to topics like these. Sorry for ruining the mood.”
The man shook his head gently. “Hey, no need to apologize. You didn’t ruin anything. If anything, you reminded me how important it is to be mindful and respectful. You’re allowed to feel irritable, and you’re allowed to speak your mind. That doesn’t make you a mood-killer—it makes you human.”
Wooyoung smiled softly, his tension easing. There was something about the way this man spoke—honest, kind, and without pretense—that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t in a long time.
“I’m good,” Wooyoung said after a moment. “Thanks for saying that. How about we talk a bit more at the bar?”
The man nodded, pulling up a chair beside him. “Absolutely. By the way, I’m San,” he said, extending a hand.
Wooyoung shook it, his smile widening. “Wooyoung.”
“Nice to meet you, Wooyoung,” San said, his tone warm. “So, tell me something about yourself—what’s something that makes you light up when you talk about it?”
Wooyoung’s eyes lit up almost immediately. “I really like crocheting at the moment,” he said, a small laugh escaping him. “I know, it’s a real old lady hobby. But I like making clothes, bags, and such. Then I give them to my friends or sell them. Sometimes I keep them for myself.”
San’s face softened with genuine interest, and Wooyoung felt a warmth spread through his chest. It was rare for someone to actually listen when he talked about his hobbies, let alone seem genuinely intrigued.
“That’s not an old lady hobby—that’s a talented artist hobby,” San said, his tone full of admiration. “You’re literally creating something out of nothing, and that’s kind of magical. What’s the coolest thing you’ve made so far?”
Wooyoung’s cheeks flushed as he thought about it. “I’m still not that good at it,” he admitted. “Crocheting is all fun, but the end where you have to sew the pieces together... that’s where I still struggle quite a bit.” He laughed again, the sound warm and melodic. “I think the coolest thing I made was a granny square sweater for a friend. It had flowers, and the colors were very pretty. I’ve kept the first cardigan I made—it’s my favorite because it’s the first real thing that turned out good.”
San’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “A granny square sweater with flowers? That sounds gorgeous. And keeping your first cardigan? That’s so special. It’s like a little piece of your journey—proof of how far you’ve come.”
Wooyoung smiled, his heart warming at San’s words. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
As the night went on, the conversation flowed effortlessly between them. Wooyoung found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t expected, sharing stories about his crocheting projects, his love for snacks, and even his occasional struggles with self-doubt. San listened intently, his responses thoughtful and kind.
At one point, the music shifted, the beat slowing into something sultry and intimate. San stood up, offering Wooyoung his hand. “Dance with me?”
Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, his heart racing. He wasn’t usually one for dancing, especially not in crowded places, but there was something about San that made him feel safe. He took San’s hand, letting himself be led to the dance floor.
They found a spot near the edge of the crowd, where the music was still loud but the space around them felt private. San’s hands rested lightly on Wooyoung’s hips, and Wooyoung felt a shiver run through him at the touch.
“You’ve got the kind of vibe that makes even the music jealous,” San murmured, his voice low and warm against Wooyoung’s ear.
Wooyoung turned around, pressing his back against San’s chest as they swayed to the rhythm. “Hold me close, please,” he said softly. “I hate strangers touching me... strangely enough, with you, I don’t mind at all. That’s a bit surprising. Maybe we’re meant to be.”
San’s arms wrapped gently around him, his breath warm against Wooyoung’s ear. “I’ve got you. No strangers here—just you and me, and this little bubble we’ve made. And you’re right, maybe it’s not so strange after all. Sometimes you just know when someone feels... different. Special.”
Wooyoung turned to face him, his eyes searching San’s. “How about we decide after a trial run? I think a nice kiss would be the perfect way to decide if we’re compatible.” His words were confident, but his cheeks flushed, betraying his nervousness.
San smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Wooyoung’s face. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, you know that? But I love the confidence.”
He leaned in slowly, giving Wooyoung plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to. Their lips met, soft at first, then deepening into something hotter, more intense. When they finally pulled away, San was grinning, his forehead resting against Wooyoung’s.
“So... verdict? Compatible?”
Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think we should move this somewhere more private.”
San took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Lead the way.”
As they left the bar, the night stretched out before them, full of possibilities. And for the first time in a long time, Wooyoung felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.