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1.
Jung Wooyoung is loud about most things; his emotions, what he loves and dislikes, what makes him angry, what makes him thrum with excitement. He's loud about his love for his members, and for Atiny, and for his family. He's loud about his interests, and causes he's passionate for, especially if that cause is his rightful place as first to wash up when they get home from a gruelling day of dance practice and he, always, is the fastest to shower. As such, it shouldn't be a surprise that his dating life is no exception to that rule.
Not that he has any shame in it; Wooyoung would sorely love to say he'd been caught in a PopBase dating scandal, but apparently, when you kiss your members for the 40th time, its ‘not fun anymore’ and ‘nobody cares’.
Which makes hard launching his relationship with his bandmate, darling boyfriend and all-round soulmate Choi San particularly difficult.
He'd wanted to, for a long time – only problem was, it took the two of them an embarrassingly long time to actually confess their feelings for each other, so the first few years were pure homosexual manifestation from Wooyoung's part. Maybe if San saw the headline, he'd decide it had to be true, and the two of them would be contractually obliged to go along with it, running off into the sunset holding hands and sucking each other's faces. San believed most things he saw on the internet, sharing engagement bait tweets to the group chat captioned 'omo!' And 'uwa!' And 'is this true????? Pls reply' that Jongho skull-emoji reacted and Seonghwa gently disillusioned. Wooyoung figured it would've been at least worth a try. 50% chance of success, at least. He could be a pretty successful gaslighter.
Still, after a lot of tears, a night shaking in each other's arms under the sterile lights of the dorm kitchen and more cups of soju than either of them would admit, they'd ended up with a shiny new 'boyfriends' label slapped on their relationship, and had spent the following day hungover, exhausted, and unable to stop the grins plastered across their faces as they moved through the motions of the day in a dreamlike haze. Wooyoung finally understood the difference between like and love.
And when it came to commitment, San himself seemed entirely on board with announcing their relationship – even if he wasn't comfortable with PDA (which clearly wasn't a problem, gluing himself to the members to self soothe and to wrapping his big strong arms around their waists or shoulders to keep them close to him every minute, every second) he was an awful liar, and was just as besotted with Wooyoung as Wooyoung was with him.
And so, when a few days of officially-over-our-gay-pining had passed and neither had stopped floating on cloud nine, and Yeosang asked what they were both so happy about, Wooyoung saw no need to lie to his very best friend in the whole wide world about the new revelation in his relationship status.
"Sani and I got super drunk and confessed our love for each other," Wooyoung announced, beaming, as Yeosang walked alongside him down the endless corridor from their practice room to the one holy grail vending machine in the company that wasn't full of health foods; not that Wooyoung would say that in front of San, with his passionate love for protein bars. Yeosang seemed to take his elated smiling as humour, and patted Wooyoung's shoulder in a half-assuring half-mocking gesture.
"I can say it more if you need me to, Wooyo. I love you." Wooyoung huffed in annoyance. "What, not going to say it back? Ouch."
"I love you too," Wooyoung whined. Obviously, he loved the other boy with his entire heart, but- "but this is different. Sani is different. I wanna parade the streets holding his hand."
Yeosang looked down at their intertwined hands, and raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung, who huffed in annoyance.
This was clearly going to be harder than he thought.
2.
San was the apple of Wooyoung's eye. The sun to his moon. The Hamburger to his fries. One beefy, beefy hamburger. Delicious.
Aside from being built like some kind of Greek god, he was warm, lighting a spark inside Wooyoung's chest that burned and shone over anything that had darkened his mood, light as bright as his smile. He was attentive, and hilarious, and such a good listener. So Wooyoung supposed the best strategy was to fight fire with fire, and try to find somebody just as warm to understand his feelings.
And so, if anybody was going to believe Wooyoung, it'd be Seonghwa.
Kind, gentle, caring Seonghwa, who let Wooyoung talk at him for hours and only sometimes complained when he called him mommy, only on his most exceedingly stressful days. Yes, Seonghwa was perfect, he decided, and darted around the dorm determinedly until he slammed the door to the lounge open and found the older man sat sideways across a couch with his knees tucked, relaxed and engrossed in a book that Wooyoung had abso-fucking-lutely zero interest in.
"I wanna make out with San."
Wooyoung announced himself to the room firmly, staring the man opposite him down directly.
Seonghwa simply hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to stare down at his book. Wooyoung decides to make his intentions clearer.
"I wanna kiss him all over."
"You kiss all of us all over, Wooyoungie," Seonghwa said, monotonous and still not making eye contact, "sometimes too much."
"But I can kiss San. I'm allowed to. I'm actually meant to, because he and I are-"
"I know you're close, Wooyoung," Seonghwa finally looked up at him, as underwhelmed as a person possibly could be, which simply wouldn't do. Wooyoung needed him to be whelmed. He needed to whelm him so much he fell off the damn couch. "I'm sure San has never had a problem with you kissing him."
"You don't get it!" Wooyoung whined, voice pitching higher as he frowned pleadingly, the corners of his mouth drooping down as he bounced on his toes.
"I'm sorry if you don't feel like we appreciate the way you show affection." And okay, that definitely wasn't what he meant.
"No, I-" Wooyoung didn't even know what to say. "I don't!"
Seonghwa continued to look concerned. Wooyoung felt the childish part of himself want to start crying.
"I don't care! I'm fine! Bye!"
And he darted out of the room, determined and stomping his feet as he went.
He had to make the members understand.
3.
A day later, and Wooyoung was still sulking.
One of the best features of San, aside from his stunning physical ones, and his warm heart, was his patience when it came to letting Wooyoung do and feel however he needed to at any given moment. He let Wooyoung be excited, didn't flinch when his voice pitched louder and louder, only smiled back at him with a cute scrunch in his crescent eyes, full of adoration. And when Wooyoung needed space, he supplied it, and then gently would swoop in as Wooyoung started to wilt and support him, tender and giving.
San was so at peace with Wooyoung, didn't ever make him feel like he had to change.
So Wooyoung supposed it made sense that his penchant for physicality with the members was something he would never take issue with. But still, having both Yeosang and Seonghwa brush it off as regular-Wooyoung-stuff made him, if nothing else, a little self-conscious about his specific way of loving the members.
'I'm sorry if you don't feel like we appreciate the way you show affection', Seonghwa had said. No, that wasn't the problem – the problem was that he'd been so incredibly gay about all of the members that they couldn't tell the difference between his usual homosexual hijinks and his actual, Real Life Boyfriend Stuff.
But who, in his unique situation of being surrounded by seven devastatingly attractive men, wouldn't flirt?
It was only a wolf's nature to hunt.
And who would understand that?
Yunho.
Besides, the guy was enough of a pervert himself that he wouldn't shy away from Wooyoung going into scandalously explicit detail about his deepest darkest San related fantasies, and as such, he could be convinced that they were genuine.
Sure, he'd be a little scarred, but what was that compared to the relief of having somebody believe that he could, actually, bag a hottie as fine as Choi San?
Wooyoung once again set off with profound purpose. He was a strong, independent gay. He could do this.
Yunho, unlike Seonghwa, didn't require a full tour of the dorm to find. He was where he always was – pasted in front of his PC, playing Valorant.
"Yunho-yah." He said, tapping him a little too aggressively on the shoulder.
"Yunho-yah." Louder.
"Yun." He was poking at full force now, aiming for his armpit.
"Yunho yaaaaah-"
"Wooyoung," Yunho finally acknowledged, muting his headset and jerking his shoulder away from the boy staring daggers at him, "Can this wait or am I about to throw this match?"
"Throw it, see if I care." A shark-like grin spread across Wooyoung's mouth as he sing-songed his response.
Yunho clearly saw this was a battle he was going to lose, and rose out of his stupid reinforced padded Spiderman gaming chair to flop unceremoniously on the edge of his bed, looking up at Wooyoung, who was trying as hard as he could to look serious, arms crossed and hands tucked in so his biceps looked bigger than they were.
"I have news."
"Is this real news, or just interesting to you because you don't actually do anything?"
He was one to judge, sat in his greasy grey sweatpants with all manner of non-manager approved snacks littered empty across the desk that sat to his right-
"I'm teasing," Yunho conceded, raising his eyebrows as his expression softened, "What's going on?"
Well, it was now or never. Wooyoung lowered himself to sit across from Yunho on his bed.
"San and I are official."
A pause.
"I'm sure you two are tonguing all the time," Yunho said, dead serious, and Wooyoung almost thought he was confirming his conviction, albeit a little insultingly.
But then, an entertained smirk broke its way through Yunho's steeled expression, and his shoulders shook with silent laughter. Wooyoung sprung up from the bed.
"We're dating!" He shouted, "Holding hands! Making out! Fucking!" And okay, that last part wasn't technically true, but-
"How come I don't get that side of your flirting?" Yunho stood up to meet him, grabbing his waist with one of his stupid big hands and making Wooyoung flinch, ticklish, a teasing smile on his lips, "I thought you stopped at the kissing part. Would've been nice to know since apparently I'm the only pervert in our group."
"You are the only pervert in our group!" Wooyoung was screeching now, and Yunho pushed at his chest, laughing, this whole thing some sort of big joke to him, and patted Wooyoung on his cheek.
"Don't hold yourself back Wooyoung-ah," he said, sauntering out of his bedroom door and pointing back at Wooyoung over his shoulder, "We could be freak4freak!"
"You're the freak!" Wooyoung shouted after him, and was answered only by Yunho's retreating laughter.
Wooyoung turned and threw himself onto the bed, ragdolled. He screamed into Yunho's pillow.
Fuck everything.
4.
For the sake of his mental health (read: sanity) Wooyoung decides to take a break from his attempts at announcing his and San's relationship.
Clearly, anything is possible in the universe after all.
He doesn't, however, shy away from his physical affection with him, or the other members. No, during practice, at any spare moment he will grab one of the others in all their exhausted, sweaty glory, and if he's feeling particularly bold, plant a little kiss on their cheek. Or neck. Whichever he could realistically reach.
In Mingi's case, his neck was the only option.
Still, Wooyoung liked clinging to him, especially because of the nature of their bond – Mingi, much like Wooyoung himself, harbors a lot of energy, but his mostly manifests through anxiety and worry, and is most obviously present during this kind of day, refining endless choreography to be good enough, to be perfect. Mingi is, in all senses of the word, a perfectionist, and incredibly self-critical, so its no surprise when he relaxes so intensely into Wooyoung's firm hold around his waist. Wooyoung plants his head unceremoniously on Mingi's chest.
"Feeling okay Mangi?" He asks lowly. He feels more than hears Mingi's deep hum in response. Wooyoung rubs at his back a little, and feels the tension there begin to dissipate.
This is why he, at great risk of sounding like a gay mess, can't stop touching his members.
Not because they're all so ridiculously hot (athough it certainly helps), because he knows that they secretly need the contact, just as much as he does. And if he has to be the one to initiate, so be it. Wooyoung will do whatever it takes to support his team, his family.
Eventually, he has to break free from his large human pillow, and continue running formation. He gives his all, keeping an eye on everybody through the mirrors. Acts out when he can tell they all need a laugh. Makes mistakes intentionally when one is struggling, too. He doesn't really care about his reputation if it helps one of his members to feel a little less crushed.
And so the night progresses, until eventually, their performance directors are satisfied, and they all shuffle zombie-like to the cars taking them home. Wooyoung is in a similar exhausted daze, making his way outside into the blissful cool air when a hand grabs at his arm, holding him back. Wooyoung turns and sees Mingi looking at him sheepishly, eyes wide.
Wordlessly, they sit beside one another in the car, Wooyoung rubbing soothing circles into Mingi's bouncing leg. It's a habit they've all picked up on now, too intertwined, too symbiotic to be any different. Still, he waits, doesn't try to stop him.
He tries to make the silence press weighted comfortingly on his shoulders rather than suffocatingly on his chest.
Mingi's breaths fan out slower as they reach home, and Wooyoung feels the brush of his fingertips on his own. Wooyoung grabs his hand confidently, not needing to make eye contact, not wanting to make it a big deal.
They kick off their shoes in the doorway, and Wooyoung lets Mingi guide him to his room, settling across from each other on the floor. Mingi has a particularly comfortable piled carpet by his bed, and Wooyoung scrunches his toes in it absentmindedly, letting Mingi take his time.
And then he looks up, and sees that Mingi's eyes have gone glassy.
"Mangi-yah-"
"Something's wrong with me," he whispers, flooding out in one conjoined breath, chest beginning to heave, and Wooyoung shoots forward, grabbing his hands before he starts itching at his skin. Tethering him as much as he can.
"Nothing's wrong with you," He states seriously, "this is just your brain being a dick."
"It's not my brain." Mingi worries his lip between his teeth.
Wooyoung tilts his head in questioning, pouting a little and frowning with concern.
"It's my..."
"Are you unwell?" Wooyoung raises his voice, sitting up ramrod straight, reaching to touch Mingi's forehead and check if he's running hot, "are you hurt?"
"No!" A pause, then, quieter, "I just. I have a really big problem..."
Wooyoung waits. Give him space to think. Let him do it on his own.
A few moments pass.
Then a few minutes.
"I'm in love."
And oh.
"Oh Mangi," Wooyoung breathes out, "that's okay," and Mingi topples forward into his arms, finally letting the tears escape him, "it's okay, I got you."
Mingi shakes, breath coming out heavy and strangled, and Wooyoung tries to breathe with him, guide him through it. Wooyoung's heart aches. He drifts one hand up into his coarse hair, petting him slowly.
Eventually, Mingi untucks his head, and sits back up, still holding firmly onto Wooyoung's shirt, the same one he was wearing at pratice. Wooyoung hopes it isn't too ridiculously sweaty.
And then he thinks.
Sees the way Mingi stares back at him.
"Is it me?" He teases, smiling wide, and Mingi laughs, breaking through the nerves, finally.
"Definitely not."
"Yah! I'm a great option!"
"You are!" Mingi defends, eyebrows raised, "You're just not..."
Wooyoung's smile turns from teasing to gentle.
"I'm just not Yunho?"
And Mingi's eyes wet again, mouth curling into a half-smiling half-wobbly-sobbing thing that makes Wooyoung press forward and envelop him in his arms again, kissing his cheek.
He could tell him about his own feelings another time. Mingi didn't need him to relate right now. He needed to be held.
"Tell me everything about him that you love so much. I'm not sleepy yet anyways."
Ateez' youngest member seems to know everything.
Its a little scary, actually, how much he seems to know. People arguing? Jongho knows why, how, who's right. A member even slightly unwell? Jongho knows when it started, how many degrees their temperature is off by. A member stole something belonging to another? Jongho's already taken fucking fingerprints.
Wooyoung knows this, because he's been on the receiving end of it far too many times. And as much as he likes to recieve, he also likes to give, which is why he's going to give Jongho the news of his and San's relationship being canon and he will be believed without questioning, because Jongho will have surely already seen it coming from miles away.
Jongho's just like that – he quietly observes, and gives the members space to reach a conclusion on their own, even if he himself came to it days, weeks ago. Its a little infuriating, but in a situation like this, wherein Wooyoung is apparently too gay to be actually gay, he’s thankful for it.
He decides to be polite, and to have the conversation on Jongho's own turf; namely, one of the tiny little vocal practice rooms at the company, which Wooyoung really should've thought ahead about, given that when he enters and shuts the door behind him they're practically stood chest to chest.
Wooyoung does the only thing he knows how to dissipate the situation, which is attack.
He pounces on Jongho, ignoring his spluttering, and holds both of his cheeks in his hands as he announces, straight to his face,
"San is my boyfriend."
Jongho blinks.
"No he's not."
"Oh come on," Wooyoung whines, "yes! Yes he is! Why doesn't anyone believe me?"
"Because if you were dating, I'd have seen you with your tongue down his throat by now. Please let go of my face."
"No," Wooyoung says, defiant and bratty, "Not until you say you believe me."
"Not happening."
"Say it."
"No."
"Say 'I believe you, hyung.'"
"No!"
"Say 'I believe you hyung and you're the most handsome ever.'"
"Absolutely not."
"Fine!"
Wooyoung plants his lips on Jongho's mouth and turns, slamming the door behind him.
+1.
Choi San is the perfect man.
He’s handsome, has the voice of an angel, dances in this hypnotising way that leaves Wooyoung breathless, and has the kindest heart of anybody he has ever met.
Wooyoung was elated about finally, finally being able to call San his own.
Except when he finally does, Yeosang doesn’t take it seriously. Seonghwa misunderstands. Yunho doesn’t believe him and takes it as some sort of flirty pregame? Mingi gets a free pass, because he’s got his own gay crisis to handle, but Jongho just fully didn’t even entertain the notion that he could be telling the truth.
Nobody believes him.
Wooyoung is ruminating over this harsh reality in his bed, curled up and vulnerable, when he feels a weight dip behind him.
He doesn’t need to turn to know it’s San, but does anyway, if nothing else just to look at him. San reaches a gentle hand up and strokes Wooyoung’s hair out of his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, in that soft pressing tone of voice that goes straight to Wooyoung’s heart, and he feels himself welling up already.
“Nobody believes me. About us,” he sniffs, smiling resigned, “I tried to tell everybody and they don’t believe me. Because I’m too touchy, or too much, or too much of a joke, or whatever. They don’t think I’m telling the truth.”
San coos at him, and shuffles closer, wrapping a big arm around Wooyoung and burying himself under the covers with him. Then he smiles brightly.
“You’re not...” Wooyoung says, not understanding, “you’re not upset?”
“why would I be upset?” San frowns, tucking Wooyoung's head under his chin, “you show so much love to everybody. It’s one of my favourite things about you.”
“Really?” Wooyoung turns his head up to look at San, beaming.
“Uh huh,” San nods, “that and your smile.”
Wooyoung giggles, tucking himself even more into his boyfriend. His perfect perfect boyfriend, who understands. Who doesn’t need anything more or less from him. Who is content to let him be, and finds a beauty in his being that Wooyoung himself can never seem to find the end of.
“I don’t need them to believe you,” San whispers, “I don’t need people to know for it to be real to me.”
The next morning, Wooyoung wakes up early.
He’d fallen asleep easily in San’s arms, lolled into safety and warmth that had reassured his worries and quieted his mind.
Still, he was, by nature, an overthinker, and had a very busy brain. He was also admittedly still a little upset by the actions of his members, hurt by their dismissiveness and reluctance to take him seriously, to congratulate him for being as emotionally vulnerable as he was.
Wooyoung slipped out of bed as softly as he could, letting San rest as much more as he could. Sleep was sparse these days, with the energy of comeback and whispers of a tour in the air, and so while he knew San would love to be awake with him, it’d be better for his health if he caught up on some more shuteye and Wooyoung left him be. Sometimes loving him meant giving him space.
Wooyoung padded down the hallway to the kitchenette, rubbing sleep out of his bleary eyes as he went, lost in his head about the members. What about him was so unbelievable? Maybe it’d be better if San had done it. Maybe his excitement was too much, and had backfired.
He perched himself on a kitchen stool and sighed.
“You’re up early.” A voice from the darkness spoke, making Wooyoung jump out of his skin. Wooyoung turns on his phone flashlight and promptly blinds Hongjoong with it, who yelps, “turn that off-“
“Sorry hyung,” Wooyoung apologises, and a silence settles between them.
Wooyoung never tends to feel awkward with Hongjoong, but when he’s hiding something, it’s totally different. He doesn’t want their captain to worry. He can tell, from how alert he is, that Hongjoong has been awake plenty of time, which probably means he never went to sleep to begin with. That itself is a whole lot of wrong, but he knows no matter how much he pleads that won’t change. His greatest trait is also his worst one.
So instead, Wooyoung pushes down his worry, tries to smile at his hyung. He can do this. He can-
“Why are you upset Wooyoungie?” Hongjoong asks, plain and simple, with a tenderness in his voice that strips away all of Wooyoung’s hopes at being chill and nonchalant in a split second.
He feels himself start to shake.
Hongjoong is different in front of cameras. He has the same control over the group as he always does, the steady reliable presence that makes them all listen, all fall into line without too much fuss. The only difference is that he also puts that kind of control on himself. It slips out, sometimes, the vulnerable Hongjoong, flowery petals bared and open and facing the sun, and he knows their fans love to see at as much as he does, but most of the time, that version of him stays behind closed doors, between the members. Wooyoung understands why, but he wishes it could be shown to the world a little more, as Hongjoong stands in front of Wooyoung and against his averseness to skinship, hugs him, shushing his quiet sobs. This was meant to be a happy announcement. Why is he crying so much lately?
“You have to believe me hyung,” he gaps out through his crying, “you have to.”
“I believe you,” Hongjoong placates, comforting him. Wooyoung smiles.
“You don’t even know what I’m asking you to believe.” He says, almost inaudible. Hongjoong hears him anyway.
“About San?”
Oh.
“Um. Yeah?” Wooyoung asks more than states, “but it’s not just my... my feelings for him. We’re together. We’re dating now.”
“That’s great, Wooyoungie,” he says, and Wooyoung feels another sob creep up his throat at how easily he was believed, how kindly Hongjoong is speaking, “I’m so happy for you.”
Hongjoong continues to pet Wooyoung’s hair as he schools his crying, sniffing wetly into his hyung’s shirt. He feels so gross.
“Nobody believed me. Is it because I...” Hongjoong waits for him to finish patiently, “because I kiss everyone too much or whatever?”
Hongjoong plants a kiss of his own on Wooyoung’s head, and laughs softly.
“You can kiss everyone as much as you want.”
The silence between them is comfortable now, interrupted only by their breathing, Wooyoung’s shaky and Hongjoong’s steady and gentle.
Eventually, Hongjoong breaks the hug, still the tiniest bit awkward with the physical contact. It makes Wooyoung’s inside warm, the fact that he still tries, pushes past his own discomfort for what he knows Wooyoung needed, what he recognises even more than Wooyoung himself. He’s the greatest leader Wooyoung could ever ask for.
“You want to watch a movie tonight?” Hongjoong suggests, sitting in the stool beside Wooyoung, “we’ve got a long day, but I’m sure the members would like it.”
Wooyoung wants to say yes, wants to claim the closeness that he’s yearning, aching for, but still worries.
“Don’t you need to work?”
“I can take one night off.”
Wooyoung knows he’s lying, but smiles. Hongjoong understands him so well it’s almost going to make him tear up again.
“Thank you hyung.”
BONUS
Jongho decides to bring his pillow and a blanket to movie night, which prompts everybody else to follow suit, the entire room becoming like a kids soft play within five minutes.
Wooyoung loves it.
He feels like he did when they’d just debuted, hopeful trainees with the world ahead of them, holding onto each other for dear life and running into the abyss.
Wooyoung looks around, feels the most pressurised, aching love for the people around him, and supposed its not fair to the members to have been so upset at them for not seeing the significance of his romantic love.
Because really, they’re all so incredibly important to him, he doesn’t want anybody to get special treatment.
He doesn’t want any of them to feel like they’re not the most special people in his life, like they’re not his world.
He settles in between Yeosang and Seonghwa and feels happier than he ever has.
Until, San decides he has an announcement to make to the group.
“Wooyoung and I are dating by the way.”
Seonghwa gasps beside him.
“no shit?” Yunho laughs.
And before his eyes, Wooyoung sees the members begin to move, patting Wooyoung on the shoulder in congratulations and rifling around in their pockets, pulling money out and passing it towards Yeosang, who sits behind him grinning wolfishly. Wooyoung’s mouth hangs open.
Mingi groans the loudest, cutting through the happy exclamations and teasing jabs of the other members as he deposits no less than one million won in bills into Yeosang’s lap with a drawn out “fuck.”
“Huh?” Wooyoung asks, dumbly, looking around at the assortment of recently-taxed men.
“Betting pool,” Jongho announces, “on when you’d get together.”
“HUH?” Wooyoung repeats, aghast. What the fuck? And actually, he’ll say it out loud, “WHAT THE FUCK?”
“We’ve had it since 2018, you don’t get to act surprised,” Yeosang says, counting his money like a Scrooge McDuck of betrayal and malice.
“Our friendship is over, Sangie.” Wooyoung decides, flopping onto his back.
Yeosang giggles. If Wooyoung had known about the betting pool, he would’ve at least rigged it slightly towards Yeosang. Or chickened out.
He probably would’ve chickened out.
Still, Yeosang had his chicken-like nature to thank for his newfound wealth, so really, Wooyoung had done him a favour. And then he realised-
“You bet on it taking us EIGHT YEARS?” Wooyoung gasps, pushing at Yeosang, scandalised.
“I bet ten.” Hongjoong pipes up from behind him, and San throws a firm pillow at him, which he promptly takes square in the fucking face, and San rushes over apologising.
“I’m so sorry hyung, oh my god, oh my god-“
“Get an ice pack I think his nose is bleeding-“
“SEONGHWA HYUNG DON’T LOOK-“
Wooyoung laughs loudly, from his chest. From his heart.
Maybe they didn’t realise he was being serious his relationship with San because they’re all just idiots.
Fin.