"Hi, uh, so." Wooyoung desperately tries to shake off the blankness that washed over him as soon as the pretty receptionist looked up from his laptop and smiled at him. "Do you have a phone?"
A moment passes. Wooyoung wants to facepalm.
~~~
Growing...
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In general, San likes kissing Wooyoung. He likes the way Wooyoung first seems to melt against him, then pausing in the touch of their lips as if he wants to savour it. San thinks it's cute.
However, this time, Wooyoung is tense. There is no melting into the kiss, and when San doesn't immediately take initiative within the first second, Wooyoung pulls back like he's been burned. He's blushing, but this time, San can't find delight in it because Wooyoung also looks deeply uncomfortable.
"Sorry, that was stupid," he mumbles, avoiding San's eyes.
"It was sudden," San agrees, and Wooyoung flinches, "but it was okay with me." He searches Wooyoung's face. "Are you, though?"
"Am I what?" Wooyoung almost bites back.
"Are you okay?"
"I am." Wooyoung seems to chew on his words for a bit. "Did you have fun with your co-worker?" he finally asks.
San raises an eyebrow. Is Wooyoung being jealous? "I did." He can't help a defiant undertone creeping his voice. "But not in the way you think."
"What am I thinking?" Wooyoung challenges, taking a step back and crossing his arms. San almost scoffs at the absurdity of it all. Half a minute ago, he was sure he and Wooyoung would spend the evening making out on his bed, but right now, everything seems to go in a pretty opposite direction.
"You're jealous," he remarks matter-of-factly.
For some reason, that seems to rile Wooyoung up even more. He flushes angrily. "I'm not!"
"You sure are!" San hastily lowers his voice when his gaze falls back at his room door. "And keep your voice down. The noise isolation isn't too good here."
Wooyoung shuts his mouth that he'd already opened for a retort, and his eyes dart around San's room for a few seconds. A grin flits across his face when they pause on the blue stone on San's desk that San found on their hike, then the corners of his mouth turn neutral again. "My family's room is completely soundproof. Why isn't yours?"
"Not worth the effort, I guess," San shrugs humourlessly.
Wooyoung blinks, taken aback. "What?"
San sighs. "I work here short-term for minimum wage, Wooyoung. Did you really think the workers here would get the same treatment as the people who pay a couple of hundred thousand Won for the accommodation and food?"
"I-" Wooyoung opens and closes his mouth. "But they should have minimum standards," he says as he surveys San's room once again. It's obvious what he's referring to—the barely-there noise cancellation, the small room size, maybe even the grey walls that look like they might have been white a few years ago.
Despite his own reservations against his living conditions in the hotel, San feels himself getting defensive, and he crosses his arms. "It's alright as long as no one comes in my room to stage a shouting battle," he points out.
