moon-reblogs

[moon-reblogs]

sun keeps rising (like it tends to do)

pairing: jay park x fem!reader

summary: being the mum friend is rewarding, if not a little tricky—you would know. it wouldn't hurt to let someone look after you for once, would it?

genres: summer au, strangers to lovers, (friends-in-law to lovers really), smut, fluff, angst (sorry !!!)

warnings: minors dni, nct jeong jaehyun it is always nct jaehyun, tbh the angst is p mild you'll be fine, light self-sabotage, ningning is the maknae, accidentally made jay a freak.. my bad, appearances from JEONG JAEHYUN from nct (speedy return king), possible inaccuracies regarding the cooking process..

word count: 39,982 (had a lot to say after a year out ig)

playlist: ordinary things (feat. nonna) ariana grande, juna clairo

author's note: heyyyyyy.. been a while lmao.. my fault !!! 2024 really got away from me it's literally been a year since my last fic barely exaggerating.......................... whatever.. thanks to emma for the beta as always, heart u so bad little miss asahicore ! as always, enjoy the fic and lmk your thoughts even if you hate it and hope i never write again :D

You realise there is something about Park Jay the night you meet him at the bonfire—when he tells you he doesn’t want to sleep with you. 

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” you repeat, amused. 

He’s sitting beside you in the sand, watching the side of your face whenever you watch the fire. Embers lift into the darkness of summer. You’re part of a broken circle of (soon-to-be) fourth-years dangling cigarettes and beer cans from their fingers as the tide rolls quietly. You don’t know him, not really, despite sharing a university and some friends, but tonight, you’re talking. A little. Small talk at first, for a while. Trading information about majors and extracurriculars—Law, football, and music for Jay; Literature, and film for you. 

His sudden confession catches you so off-guard you can’t even remember what led you there. You have no idea how you’d gone from casual conversation to.. whatever this is. Jay seems as thrown as you, a mildly terrified look flashing across his face, letting a very slow beat pass before he tilts his head. “Not really,” he admits.

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all. He takes this as a cue to keep talking, and you let him, his hand gesturing towards you when he says, “You’re obviously attractive. We just.. don’t know each other.” 

Obviously, he said. You can’t help smiling at that. Egged on by alcohol and his compliment, you hold his gaze. “Not yet.” 

Jay gulps, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he shakes his head. “No, not-not yet.” 

And so, you spend the night talking, sitting so close that heat radiates from his bare knees across the inch of space between you. You let him steer the conversation, and he doesn’t seem opposed, guiding it this way and that while you hang onto his every word. The two of you talk about your favourite movies, embarrassing childhood memories, places you want to visit, and random thoughts that pop into your head. 

Even after the fire dies out, the crowd clears, and it gets so chilly you start to shudder, you stay there, talking with Jay, shoulders touching under the blanket he brought. 

In the quiet falling between you, the sea kisses the sand gently at the shore, and the smell of smoke tickles your nostrils. The feeling of Jay’s eyes on you grows harder to ignore. He doesn’t look away when you look at him. Instead, he meets your gaze with a smile. 

“What is it?” you ask, playing with the frayed thread at the edge of his blanket. 

“You’re so different in real life.” 

The grin on his face makes you grin too, though you tilt your head in faux contemplation. “Yes,” you say, conspiratorially. “In real life, I’m three-dimensional.”

Jay chuckles, shaking his head. “I was going to say you’re taller.” 

Even if you tried, you couldn’t hide your surprise or the way you sat up straighter, jaw falling open upon hearing his words. You haven’t been considered tall since you were ten, standing in the back row for a photo with your Brownie troop—by the time you’d moved up to Guides, you were one year older and two rows shorter, standing in front with the younger girls and short sixteen-year-olds. 

If the grin on his face is anything to go by, your shock amuses him, and you can’t help but grin back. “Do I look short on Instagram?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

He thinks about it sincerely, eyes trailing over every inch of your body before meeting yours again, a thoughtful tilt of his head to the left as he holds his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Well, you’re like this height on Instagram, so yeah, I think you do.” 

“Instagram isn’t to scale?” You make a show of your mock distress when he shakes his head, holding your own head in your hands and only letting a laugh slip when he does. “So all this time I’ve been catfishing everyone?” 

Jay pulls air through his teeth, a solemn expression on his face. “Afraid so,” he says, laughing when you do.

And like it’s the most natural thing to do in the world, like you’ve known him for years, for ever, you nudge him in the ribs, faux offence written all over your face. 

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” He raises his hands defensively, lips stretched from ear to ear. “Tall women are great, don’t even worry about it,” he adds.

“I’m five foot four,” you point out.

“And that’s like.. 5 whole feet and 3 inches taller than I thought you’d be!” Jay laughs for a while at his own joke, and you laugh too even though you’d rolled your eyes at him. 

“Thank you, I guess.” 

Jay shrugs, an easy smile on his lips as he watches you, his eyes flickering over your face before meeting yours. For the first time all night, he hesitates, gaze falling to your lips for a moment so brief you wonder if you imagined it. He takes a beat, finding his words, all traces of his playful demeanour softening, giving way to something you can’t quite place. “In real life, it’s so much harder to look away from you.” There’s sincerity written all over his face and clear in his tone—he doesn’t even seem embarrassed by how forward he’s being. 

Again, he’s caught you off-guard, flustered you completely. It’s all a bit disarming—in the best of ways. Your heart races. Warmth settling in your cheeks, creeping down the back of your neck. Your mind is reeling, hoping he’s being as sincere as he looks, hoping you’re not making a big deal out of nothing. Giddiness, or maybe alcohol, sets off a tickly flutter in your stomach regardless. The air around you is lighter, and you can’t help but hide your face in your hands, doing all you can to conceal your grin. Unfortunately, hiding your face does nothing for the giggle that breaks free. 

When you finally calm down, you look at him—his face is much closer to yours, or, at least, it seems to be. Jay’s smile widens, his gaze softening again as he watches you. He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment, touch searing your skin. 

“You’re just so,” he starts, but simply shakes his head, his expression saying what his words won’t. 

You settle back into a comfortable silence, stealing glances and sharing smiles while listening to the murmured chatter of whatever other students are left on the beach. As time passes, the air growing cooler and the stars shining brighter above you, the two of you sit there like you have all night, content in the quiet. 

Until Jay breaks it with a yawn he tries and fails to stifle. Amusement pulls your lips up at the corners, a soft laugh slipping out. “I see I’m boring you now,” you tease. 

“Not at all.” Jay sits up straighter, shaking his head seriously. “Just more relaxed than I’ve been in a while.” 

You nod, understanding the sentiment. Tonight has been great, better than you thought it would be. But as much as you want to stay in this moment, your eyes become heavier, and yawns become harder to hold back. 

“I didn’t expect to enjoy tonight so much,” he says after a beat, looking up at the sky. “I almost stayed home.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” 

Jay turns his head to meet your gaze, grinning. “Me too.” 

His eyes linger on yours, falling to your lips when you smile. He’s closer now, close enough to kiss if you want to, if he wants to. Instead, he pulls the blanket tighter around you, his knee brushing against yours, and you stay like that until the cold becomes too much to bear. 

Hours later — when everyone’s gone home, and the only proof tonight even happened is the sand lodged beneath your fingernails and the stubborn smell of smoke clinging to your twice-washed hair — you get into bed with a smile on your face, thinking it’ll be a one-time, memorable night where you spoke to a friend-in-law for the first time, and there was nothing more to it than that. But his smile keeps you up that night. And again the night after. 

It’s June 20th, the first day of summer—according to the calendar at least. Ask you or any of your friends, and summer began sometime in the middle of April when you were all wine-drunk in Yizhuo’s apartment, watching rain attack the windows as you celebrated Jeno’s birthday. Not even finals could dwindle your summer spirit. Nights out were meticulously scheduled around exam timetables, with Jaemin even dragged out for Hwang Yeji’s birthday party the night before his 9 a.m. pharmacology final—leaving the party at dawn and the exam hall with an A, because Na Jaemin is nothing short of a hard worker. 

The weather hasn’t always cooperated, but as far as you guys are concerned, it has been summer for two whole months, and with Yizhuo’s AC still busted, the group has no option but to gather at your and Minjeong’s place instead—though you can think of a few alternatives. As the second-most sober person in the flat, you find yourself on a 9 p.m. ice cream run with your competition: completely sober Jaemin. The heat is sweltering despite the time, relentless, so intense you swear there’s a hole burning in the back of your vest. All the same, Jaemin walks beside you with his lips set into a small smile, the way they always are. 

As the street bakes around you and sunburnt kids sprint past with skateboards tucked under their arms, you walk in comfortable silence. You don’t comment on the sweat on his bare arm whenever it brushes yours, and he does the same for you. His sunglasses are propped up in his hair, pulling it back off his forehead and revealing the sweat beading along his hairline.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he says, glancing at you. “I needed the company.” 

If it wasn’t for the way Jaemin forced you out the door, you might’ve thought he was being sweet. But he did force you, lifting you off your feet and over the threshold before you even had a chance to protest��not that you would have.

You roll your eyes and Jaemin chuckles, letting you enter the shop first as the double doors open, a much-needed blast of cold air hitting your skin. You let out a sigh of relief, stepping inside and letting him lead the way, basket in hand. The narrow aisles of the off-licence are cosy in the heat, and the two of you linger in the dairy section where the open fridges cool your skin. The light draught is nice, and clearly, Jaemin thinks so too, standing in place with his free hand on his hip, eyeing the butter with a thoughtful look. 

It’s hard to look away from him, the stiffness of his posture catching your eye as you try to gauge his mood. You turn your words over in your head, searching for the right thing to say—expressing your sincerity without spoiling his mood. For as long as you’ve known Jaemin, he’s never spoken seriously with you about anything, always finding a way to steer the conversation in another direction, which is why you know you need to choose your words delicately. 

“I heard about your placement, by the way.” The words come out so quickly and with such force you startle yourself, though he doesn’t react. “I’m sorry you didn't get it.”

He takes so long to respond you wonder if, like he always seems to be, he’s thinking the same thing you are—or if he’s even heard you at all. A long quiet moment stretches over the aisle before he sighs, tilting his head as his eyes meet yours. “I’m not,” he says, and you can tell he means it. “It went to a grad student. They deserved it more.” 

“No one deserved that slot more than you, Jaem. That clinic is stupid.” 

His lips curl into a lopsided grin as he nudges your shoulder with his palm. “They’re not stupid for hiring someone more qualified, Duckie. But I do feel good hearing you say that.” 

You beam at him, relieved. “That stupid, stupid clinic.”

“That stupid, stupid clinic.” Jaemin nods, his grin widening.

Like before, you trail after him, laughing as you walk in step toward the frozen food aisle. Jaemin pulls on one of the freezers, the door yawning open with a sharp hiss, cold air spilling out onto your skin like something from a dream, crisp, refreshing. Enough to make you sigh with exaggerated relief as he opens the door next to you, letting you hog the first one.

“Feels like heaven,” you whisper, savouring the coolness. 

“Liar,” Jaemin says through a laugh, flicking your shoulder with his fingers. “You said it was only two cans of cider.” 

“It was only two cans of cider.” Your tone comes out defensive, but not on purpose.  

“Right.” He draws out the word and mischief shines in his eyes when you look at him. “If I knew your tolerance had gotten so shit, I’d have brought Jaehyun instead.” 

The suggestion of that lightweight in your place makes you cackle. “Don’t even. Jaehyun just has to see a bottle before he’s crying over that dead plant.” 

“Wait.” Jaemin pauses, puzzled. “Injang was a plant?” 

“Yes, a cactus.” 

“Huh,” he utters, seeming to consider this for a moment, as if for the first time. “I always thought Injang was, like, a pet or something—a sibling maybe?” 

“You’re a mess.” 

“Yeah, like you’re any better.” 

“Jaem.” You scoff. “I have seen you get lost in your own apartment after a mimosa.” 

Jaemin opens his mouth to retort, but before he can say anything, his phone starts ringing in his pocket—killing the words on the tip of his tongue. You smirk, sensing a victory, and he rolls his eyes at the timing. “It’s Jeno,” he says, answering the call. 

Jeno’s voice comes through the phone so loud Jaemin cringes, yanking it from his ear. You can hear the accusation in Jeno’s tone as he asks what’s taking you guys so long. Jaemin’s eyes dart around the store before landing on you, wide and begging for your help. You stare back, shrugging helplessly—you’re as stuck as he is. 

“Traffic,” Jaemin blurts out at last, grinning—pleased with himself. 

On the other side of the phone, Jeno doesn’t seem to share his amusement, repeating the word traffic like it’s the most bizarre suggestion he’s ever heard. “You walked.” 

Jaemin’s gaze snaps back to you, and you lean out from behind the freezer door. “Foot traffic,” you offer, rather unhelpfully, though he’s impressed—observing you through the glass with a glint of admiration in his eyes, smiling when do. 

“Whatever,” Jeno huffs. “Just hurry up.” And with that, he cuts the call. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Jaemin putting his phone away and glancing at you with a knowing smile, but you’re already scanning the freezer for the flavours you know your friends like. Jaemin grabs an orange-flavoured Calippo and waves it in front of your face, raising a brow when you look at him as if to ask this one? You nod, amused, as he tosses it — and one for himself — into the basket.

After making sure you’ve gotten everyone’s favourites, you close the freezer. Jaemin, however, lingers, enjoying the breeze with his eyes shut. 

“Come on,” you say, nudging him with your shoulder as you start towards the till. “Let’s head back before Jen sends a search party.” 

He chuckles, walking with you and swinging the basket before emptying it into the conveyor. The cashier doesn’t look at you as he rings you up. You don’t try to argue with Jaemin when he says he’ll pay, nor do you offer to help him with the bags, knowing he won’t let you.

Outside, the heat slams into you, worse now than earlier. The sun is sinking towards the horizon, glaring directly into your eyes. Unfortunately, your sunglasses are buried somewhere in your room, abandoned in your rush to leave, so you bring your hand up to shield your eyes. Noticing this, Jaemin takes his sunglasses off and hands them to you. He shrugs when you thank him, slipping them on. 

Back at your apartment, Jeno’s so pleased to be unwrapping a Twister that he doesn’t complain about how long you guys took. Minjeong, however, is nowhere in sight. You knock on her door, though you know you don’t need to, and she comes to answer it, smiling when she sees you, grinning when she sees the Fab in your hands.

With the door closed, Minjeong takes a proper look at you, snorting in your face while she fumbles with the ice cream wrapper. “Nice shades.” 

You frown at this, watching as she takes a seat at the top of her bed, and go over to her wardrobe to see your reflection. Admittedly, Jaemin’s chunky aviators do not look as good on you as they do on him. In the mirror, Minjeong’s wearing a shit-eating grin that widens when you flip her off. 

“I mean it! They’re cute on you, in a sort of..” She trails off, running a hand through her hair while she thinks. “Girl who doesn’t care about wearing flattering accessories kind of way. It’s chic, I think—very cool girl of you.” 

“Right, MJ, thanks,” you mutter, pushing the glasses into your hair. 

You and Minjeong have been close since you were kids and have only gotten closer. So close that when it came time to fly the proverbial nest, you didn’t even discuss moving in together. Minjeong simply texted you the link to an apartment in the city and said: Open viewing at three of the units in this building on Friday. Are you free or should I look for us? 

When you sit at the end of her bed, Minjeong shuffles down the duvet to sit next to you—movements relaxed and unhurried. In the newfound quiet, the two of you eat your ice cream, comfortable enough with each other that the silence is reassuring rather than unsettling. It’s always been like this for you two, the ease of being in Minjeong’s company is twofold in silence.

The fresh orange flavour of the Calippo is distractingly refreshing, cooling you down immediately. It’s impossible to savour and before you realise it, you’re drinking the melted remains from the bottom, a little slice of summer handed to you in a cardboard tube.

With her popsicle stick between her teeth, Minjeong lays down on her stomach, absently turning her phone over and over in her hands. She’s thinking. About what, you’re not yet sure, but you won’t press—letting her ease into it at her own pace. Laughter and yelling bleeding through the closed door, her bedroom is like a refuge from the chaos in the living room, a space to recharge. You’re happy to be here with her, to talk about anything or nothing at all—just you and Minjeong, the way she likes it.

It takes a while, but she sets her phone down, looking at you with a small smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “You know,” she starts, voice light and already teasing. “I’ve been asking around about your little boyfriend.” 

You raise a brow. “My little boyfriend?” 

“Jay,” Minjeong states simply, giving you a look as if you should have known who she was referring to. 

The mere mention of his name makes your stomach flutter, a giggle coming out that you don’t bother trying to conceal from her. Still, you scoff. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about this whole time?” 

“Wait! Just listen, just listen,” she says through a laugh. “Apparently — according to Heeseung and his big drunken mouth — he’s been going on and on about this beautiful girl he was talking to at the bonfire.” 

You’d be lying if you said your curiosity wasn’t piqued over what else Jay might have said about you, but you’ve been here before — eager with your hopes higher than ever — and you know how it ends, so you don’t bother asking. The smile falls from your face. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

She doesn’t. “It’s like we have a J name curse or something.. Jimin, Jay, J—” she lists, though you hold up a hand to stop her from going on. 

“I get it.” 

Minjeong sighs happily, a smile on her face, pleased with herself for getting a reaction out of you. She’s the picture of satisfaction, giddily kicking her feet back and forth. A long moment of quiet settles between you, broken only by the sound of her socked toes gently thudding against the wall behind her. She rests her cheek on her arms, tucks her bangs behind her ear. Presses her eyes shut, chews on her lip, thinking, again. You wait for her, again—you will always wait for Minjeong. 

A while passes like this until she blinks her eyes open, voice soft, contemplative when she says, “I’m so nervous about spending the week at Jimin’s that I almost want to say I can’t go.” 

You frown but don’t speak, waiting for her to continue.

“I am excited, I’m mostly excited, but I just.. I want it to go well, so badly. I really want her parents to like me, you know?” She sighs, hiding her face in her hands. “Jimin said they’re really excited to see me again, and it’s sweet, obviously—it’s really sweet, but it’s making me feel sick and I have no idea why.” 

Minjeong leans into your touch when you stroke her hair, a sigh rumbling out of her, seeming more frustrated with herself than the situation. “I’m being stupid, right?” 

You shake your head. “It’s natural to want people to like you, no less your girlfriend’s parents, but as far as I see it, it seems like they already do. It was their idea for you to stay over, right? And it was her mum who dropped off that soup for you when you were sick, I’m pretty sure they love you, Minjeong.” 

Her brows furrow as if presented with this information for the first time. Head tilting. A slow blink. “You really think so?” she asks, voice soft, right on the edge of hope despite the tension clinging to her features. 

“Of course, I think so. Why wouldn’t they love you?” 

Minjeong thinks about this for a while, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she mumbles, shrugging. 

“You’re going to be fine, I promise,” you tell her sincerely. “And on the off chance that you’re not fine, I can always fake an emergency so you can come back home.” 

At this, she looks relieved, cracking a small smile, one that grows as her eyes finally meet yours, the weight of her anxiety lifting—even if only a little bit. She sits up properly on the bed, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her chin on them. Neither of you speaks, just sitting there in the calm of her bedroom, in the calm of each other’s presence. 

Eventually, Minjeong smiles to herself, shaking her head. “You don’t even need an emergency, just tell me you miss me and I’ll be back before you know it.” 

Since the bonfire, you’ve been hounding the group chat for a beach day. And finally, the day is here—whether it’s here because your friends have come around to the idea of recharging by the sea, or simply to appease you, the day is here, like a reward for surviving the days spent cooped up in your city apartment with everyone. Jeno, God bless him, texted in the morning to let you know he’s running errands with Aeri — which, somehow, only you seem to know is code for having sex — but would be at yours around 12 if that’s okay. 

And like clockwork, a text from Aeri comes in at 12 on the dot: otw to yours w jen, space in the cooler if u wanna bring more drinks !!! You grab your phone from the charger and a six-pack of Old Mout from the fridge before slipping on your flip-flops, buzzing with excitement until they arrive. 

Aeri’s sitting shotgun while you share the backseat with the cooler, holding onto its handle as you watch the trees blur by through the open window. Her phone is connected to the car, playing your friend group’s quarterly collaborative playlist on shuffle, stuck in a thick fog of Jaemin’s current 00s R&B fixations—he had his playlist privileges revoked last summer after adding every single song in Ariana Grande’s discography to boost streams and judging by the 151 songs he’s added since being allowed back two weeks ago, he’s more than happy to be back. Though you will never complain about getting to yell the lyrics to Promiscuous in the car with your friends, all the windows down on your way to the beach. The playlist is sprawling, and the two of you yell along to Mitski. Jeno is too busy craning his neck, searching for a parking spot to pay any mind to Mitski or her Washing Machine Heart.

As you near the sea, the trees give way to kiosks and clear skies. You can’t resist closing your eyes, letting the breeze and the scent of saltwater wrap around you like a hug. Despite Aeri’s protests, Jeno insists on looping the car park in hopes the perfect spot will open up. You, on the other hand, are just happy to observe how different the beach looks today—still busy, but in a different, more wholesome way. You rest your chin on the car window frame, watching colourful kites in the sky and kids running after each other, caked in sludgy sand from the shoreline. 

Jeno, God bless him, is too polite to barge into a spot, muttering swear words under his breath as he lets other drivers pull in, and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel with increasing speed. All it takes is one more loop for the perfect space to open up and Aeri seems more relieved than Jeno, huffing out an impatient, finally, as he pulls in—and it really is a perfect spot, so close you can feel the sand between your toes already. 

As soon as you all get out of the car, Aeri walks ahead to take a phone call, chatting animatedly as soon as it touches her ear—and Jeno doesn’t seem to mind that you’re not helping him with the cooler, he’s got it. 

“I keep meaning to ask you,” he starts, tilting his head as he speaks. “What the hell happened to you at the bonfire? I remember you and Jaemin seemed pretty comfortable again when we left, but then me and Hyuck got back, and poor Jaem could hardly remember how he got to the beach, never mind where you went.”

At this, a hodgepodge of vivid memories comes to you at once — kisses and late drives in July, sneaking off at parties to feel the wet heat of a summer evening hang over your shoulders, old feelings (good and bad) — threatening to bubble beneath the surface. A thick coolness settles in your chest, only spreading the more you try to will it away. 

You sigh, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “That was ages ago, Jen. Leave it there.” 

He frowns, seeming to pick up on your discomfort and hesitates before speaking with an earnestness that catches you off-guard. “Look,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m not going to judge you for hooking up on the beach—I won’t even pry for details, I just want to know who it was so Jaem and I can scare them a little.” His tone is oddly protective, brotherly. 

It’s sweet, really, what Jeno’s willing to do under the guise of protecting you, but you can’t help but scoff anyway, knowing it’s partly an excuse for him to show off his gym gains. “Jaemin isn’t exactly intimidating,” you point out. 

Whatever he says in response is as good as nothing to you, whose breath has caught in your throat at the sight of Jay. The iciness quickly subsides when you see him, melted by an overwhelming heat coursing through your body by the second. He’s in the middle of a heated volleyball match with some guys you know because Jeno knows them—Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon. It’s no surprise that they’re attractive, they’re college athletes—good looks might as well be part of the team contract. But Jay? Jay’s glowing. The sun beating down against his honeyed skin and making the sheen of sweat covering his body attractive. 

“Ahh,” Jeno hums in understanding, following your gaze. “One of Jaemin’s football buddies, huh? No wonder you’re so secretive.” 

“I didn’t hook up with anybody,” you assert, finding it impossible to look away. “He made it clear he’s not interested, not like that anyway.” 

“Sure, he’s not.”

You roll your eyes but don’t reply, reluctantly tearing your gaze from Jay, thankful to have reached the spot where Aeri’s taking her beach blanket out of her bag, and for the sudden lightness her presence brings. But even as you help lay out the blanket, the image of Jay persists, stuck like a song you can’t get out of your head. Jeno sets the cooler by your feet, its weight denting the sand as you watch the game. Curious — not at all swayed by Jay’s muscle definition or his back flexing as he runs around his half of the court — you push up your sunglasses, resting them in your hair to get a good look. Jeno and Aeri’s conversation about Minjeong potentially bringing Jimin only half hits your ears as you marvel at Jay, offering occasional nods to the best of your ability. Normally, the click of the cooler opening would grab your attention and hold it until you had a drink in your hand. Today though, you don’t even realise Jeno’s holding a can of cider out for you until he snaps his fingers in your face, sitting down next to Aeri and opening it for himself when you shake your head. 

“Hyuck’s going to be crushed,” he says, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s smiling at the thought, but when you do look, his smile is a grin, covering his whole face. 

“Why would Minjeong fake a girlfriend anyway?” you ask. 

Jeno shrugs. “I think he thinks she’s playing hard to get.” 

“Because lesbian Minjeong is playing hard to get with a man,” you say, rolling your eyes. A laugh slips from your lips as you think about how ridiculous that sounds, struggling to remember the origins of Donghyuck’s (made-up) crush on Minjeong.

Your comment makes Aeri snort as she looks through her bag. “Can we be sure Hyuck’s not playing hard to get rid of?” 

Jeno’s face scrunches up with laughter, and yours does the same. “Sounds like Hyuck,” he adds eventually.

As your laughter subsides, you glance back at the court. The boys are switching sides, granting you a view of Jay’s stomach that you won’t complain about, though he still hasn’t noticed you. Instead, he preps for his serve, throwing the ball before whacking it over the net. Sunghoon jumps to return it, and Jake sends it back. They work up a rally, teamwork and concentration on full display until Jay’s eyes flicker in your direction, doing a double-take when he realises it’s you. On the other side of the court, locked in, Heeseung dives into the sand to hit the ball, and it’s so impressive when he does that Aeri stops talking mid-sentence. The ball sails through the air, a perfect arc hurtling towards Jay, but his eyes stay fixed on you—and there’s that smile again, finally, you think. The impact is so sudden and jarring a collective gasp rises from everyone who sees and hears the ball strike Jay’s cheek with an audible thwack. He stumbles backwards, hand rising to cup the stinging spot, seeming more shocked than hurt by the collision. Heeseung runs over to him, yelling apologies through laughter as Jake and Sunghoon cackle into their hands, turning away from the scene. 

For a moment, you watch as Jay regains composure, and your concern forces you into action. Without a second thought, you reach into the cooler, pull out the first thing you touch and jog over to Heeseung and Jay. They look at you in sync, four eyes falling to your face and then the cold, damp can you’re holding. 

“Here,” you say quietly, perhaps a beat too late. 

Jay accepts the can with a grateful smile, sighing with relief when it touches his cheek. “Thanks,” he says, gaze meeting yours briefly before looking away, the tip of his ears flushing red. 

You shrug, paying no mind to the smile on Heeseung’s face as he looks between you and Jay, or the way the sun scorches your back through your shirt. The moment stretches over you, tension palpable though quickly broken when Heeseung clears his throat, and abruptly takes off in the direction he came from.

“Hey,” Jay says. 

He looks so different in the sun. Looks so good. Younger, gentler, because of the freckles you can now see dotting the centre of his face, the peeling skin on the bridge of his nose, his smile softer; a dimple appears that you hadn’t noticed the other night. 

“Hi,” you say belatedly, cheeks flushing as you realise he caught you admiring him. “I’d say good game, but..” You trail off, gesturing to the can of Kopparberg he’s holding to his cheek. 

Jay laughs softly, fondness in his eyes as he looks at you. “Got distracted,” he admits with a self-deprecating grin. “We were winning, if that matters.” 

A smile as you nod, you can’t help smiling. “It does, actually. But you shouldn’t let your guard down like that; might get hit by a volleyball or something.”

He gives you a grateful smile, moved by your stupid attempt at a joke. “Thanks,” he says. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Jake and Sunghoon reach you before you can reply—the former giving you a huge hug like you’re the best thing he’s seen all day, and the latter offering a small smile and stiff wave. “Are you okay?” Sunghoon asks Jay. “Like, back to playing, okay?” 

Jay’s eyes light up, seeming eager to return to the game. “Yeah, I think so,” he says, taking the can from his cheek. Seeing the swelling and angry red skin, the three of you scowl, mumbling expletives as Jay frowns at your reactions. “Shit, maybe not?” 

Beside you, Jake snorts, grabbing Jay’s wrist and pressing the can back to his face roughly, laughing with delight when Jay winces. The word, hey, slips from your lips before you can stop it. Pitying Jay, you nudge Jake in the ribs, mumbling at him to be gentle and casting a playful glare at him. Jake grins, unfazed, but you feel a little guilty until Jay looks at you, mouthing his thanks.

“Game over, I guess.” Jay frowns. “My fault.” 

“Jeno’s here,” you offer, pointing limply over your shoulder to where your friends are laughing as Yizhuo and Jaemin sit down with them. “He’d want in, probably.”

Jake beams, nodding eagerly and rushing away with Sunghoon close behind.

Alone again, Jay gets your attention by tapping your shoulder, the soft smile on his face making you grin when you see it. “Is it that bad?” he asks. 

You sigh, amused and sympathetic. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” 

“Guess I’ll sit out for now.” 

“Probably a good idea. You’ll be back in no time, though.” 

His eyes meet yours, soft gratitude shining through them. “Thanks, Doc.” 

The two of you join Aeri, Yizhuo, and Jaemin, who are sipping cocktail cans, and gossiping—if the scandalised look on Jaemin’s face is anything to go by. He’s the first to look up, smiling at you before his brows raise at the sight of Jay beside you. You glare down at him, willing him not to comment. The girls make room for you both on the blanket, and you sit down, enjoying the warmth of the sun. 

“What happened to you?” Jaemin asks Jay, a teasing smile on his lips as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. 

“Got distracted,” Jay admits, glancing at you with a grin. “But I’m in good hands.” 

Jaemin’s eyes flicker over to you, unable to conceal his amused scoff. “I’ll bet—Duckie’s had her fair share of distractions too.” 

There’s no time to process that as the conversation continues like you and Jay hadn’t interrupted. Laughing, teasing, light and easy. Jay fits in perfectly, and Jaemin keeps an eye on you.

Ahead of you, the volleyball game goes on like nothing happened, though Jake and his new partner, Jeno, are butting heads a bit. Literally. Both boys, competitive as anyone you know, diving for the ball at the same time, yelling out some variation of my ball and ignoring each other. It takes a while, but they seem to settle into a good groove—though admittedly, without Jay on the court, the game doesn’t interest you quite so much. 

As the afternoon wears on, the sun doesn’t tire, leading most of the group into the water. Donghyuck and Jeno are having a lengthy discussion about potential takeout options for lunch (though given the time, it’ll more likely be an early dinner) because, between all ten of you — Jay and his friends included — no one had the foresight to bring anything to eat. You and Jay are sitting together, knees touching as you quietly watch everyone in the water. The easy silence wraps you up so much you don’t even notice that Minjeong and Jimin have arrived until Jeno calls out asking if they brought food.

“Hey, Jen,” Minjeong says, giving him a side hug, not daring to unclasp her hand from Jimin’s. “Why would we bring food? We ate at that new burger place downtown, so good.” Still chatting with Jeno, Minjeong’s eyes scan the blanket before meeting yours and she grins at you, waving happily and mouthing hey. 

There’s no stopping the grin that spreads over your lips, stretching from ear to ear at the sight of her as a rush of warmth passes through you. It’s rare for you and Minjeong to go long without seeing each other. You even make plans during the week you spend at home over the holidays. Meeting up at the Christmas markets for clumsy laps around the ice rink, and sweet sips of Baileys hot chocolate, or sharing Boxing Day dinners with her family. Four days apart feels like a year, and seeing her now is a breath of fresh air.

“Jeno!” Jimin exclaims, hugging him with the same enthusiasm — just as committed to hand-holding as her girlfriend — though her smile falters when she spots Donghyuck. “Renjun,” she says in greeting, voice dripping with disinterest. 

Donghyuck looks up at her, rolling his eyes. “Dong. Hyuck,” he corrects again, stressing the syllables. 

For a moment, Jimin seems to consider this before shrugging. “Don’t. Care.” 

With Donghyuck sufficiently irritated, the two girls leave him alone, all bright smiles and waggling eyebrows as they sit down next to you. They greet Jay, giving you a teasing look you hope he doesn’t catch—not that there’s much time for him to think about it anyway, as Jeno comes over, clapping his shoulders with both hands and making him flinch. 

“Alright,” he says, laughing. “Let’s go get food.” 

You frown, looking up at him. “What do you need Jay for?” 

With a chuckle, Jay bumps your shoulder with his. “Yeah, Jeno. What do you need me for?” he asks. 

Straightening up, Jeno rests his hands on his hips, an excited smile curving over his lips. “I’ve never had a bad meal out with this guy, dude knows his shit.”

Jay’s smile is soft, humble, as he gets up and drapes an arm around Jeno’s shoulders. “Can’t argue with that,” he admits, turning to you, gaze lingering. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile, warmth spreading throughout your chest. As the boys disappear in search of sustenance — Donghyuck complaining in the background — Jimin spots Aeri and Yizhuo in the water and pulls off her coverup before running away to join them, leaving you and Minjeong in the dust for some much-needed alone time. 

“So?” you ask, just as she blurts out, “I’m having so much fun!”

You both laugh, and Minjeong groans, hiding her face behind her hands. “I feel so stupid! I was so nervous for no reason.” She shakes her head, as if scolding herself. 

“Told you,” you say in a sing-song tone, nudging her with your shoulder. 

“I’ll tell you everything when I get back on Sunday.” She gives you a look, curiosity glimmering behind her eyes. “Did Jay get that bruise in a fight to defend your honour?” 

You blink at her. “What?” 

“Sorry.” Minjeong laughs to herself, waving her hand dismissively. “Jimin’s parents have been showing me a ton of old movies. I just saw Dirty Dancing last night, and now I’m thinking I want that for you.” 

The thought of Jay in a fight makes you laugh, you can hardly imagine him killing a spider. You shake your head. “He took a volleyball to the face.”

“Did he do it in your honour?” 

“I mean.. I guess.” You take a moment to consider it, turning the idea over in your head. “He was looking at me instead of the ball, so, yeah, sure.” 

Minjeong sits up straight, pointing an accusatory finger at you as a grin stretches over her lips. “Do you know you just giggled right now?” 

Taken aback, you eye her wearily, squinting. “Did not!” you say, more defensive than you mean to be when honestly you might have giggled—you can’t remember.

“Did too!” She gives you a once over, awe coating her features. “Look at you! I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, but you’re glowing.” 

You scoff. “It’s thirty-two degrees out, Minjeong, everyone is glowing.” 

She laughs, repeating your words in a tone so whiny you can’t help but laugh with her. She settles down before you do though, her expression softens, a sincere look in her eyes as she rests her palm on your knee, shaking your leg. “Seriously, YN. I’m excited for you!” she says—she means every word. 

Her sincerity, the sheer delight in her voice takes you by surprise. You bring your knees to your chest, hugging yourself. “There’s nothing to be excited about, MJ, don’t get carried away.” 

“I know it’s still early days, but don’t close yourself off—let what happens happen.” You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, and she continues. “You deserve this, and I really want you to let yourself have it.” Minjeong’s eyes bore deeply into yours, earnest, searching, for a long quiet beat. “The world isn’t going to end if you choose yourself for once,” she says softly. 

Again, her sincerity leaves you speechless, words echoing in your head as you sit with them, taking them in. It’s been a long while since the last time you let yourself have it. So long since the last time you even wanted to. You don’t know why Jay makes it so easy to want. Too easy.

“Maybe I will,” you say eventually, shrugging. A big part of you hopes you mean that.  

Your answer pleases Minjeong, if the bright grin on her face is anything to go by. She nods, alight with hope as she leans back on her palms, tilting her head back to face the sun; it looks like she’s glowing too. The sounds of the beach seem louder now—your friends, the crashing waves, laughter and chatter all amplified. You steal a glance over your shoulder towards where the boys went off, mind wandering to Jay and what he might be thinking about right now—if he’s thinking about you too. There’s something about his presence, about him — the thought of him, even — that makes everything just a little bit lighter, a steadiness you never knew you could feel with someone you only just met. Overhead, the sun stretches its rays across everything it can reach, soaking the beach in a warm, golden hue. Side by side, you watch as your friends chase each other along the shore, tripping over waves and their own feet, cackling and swearing into the sky. There is peace here for you, with them, and maybe, if you take Minjeong’s words to heart, there can be peace here for you, with Jay too.

And then, after a while, in the distance, you hear the familiar sound of the boys’ laughter ringing out over the beach, breaking your stupor. You turn, and there they are—there he is, making his way back with carrier bags in his hands and a bright grin on his face.

Jay takes a container from the bag and sits next to you, opening it up. “For you,” he says, grinning.

“Seriously?” you ask, raising a brow. “You were talking crazy game about ‘knowing your shit’ and it’s fish and chips? Jay, come on.” 

He frowns at this, his eyebrows knitting together. “Fish and chips are like a beach staple,” he points out, pouting. “What did you think we’d bring back? Kalguksu?” Jay cuts a piece of fish with plastic cutlery, and spears it with the fork, holding it out to you. “Can you at least try it before you judge me?”

With a roll of your eyes and a smile on your lips, you take it from him, blowing on it a little before trying the fish and eating your words with it. Unfortunately, it’s really good. Jay smiles as he watches you chew, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “So?” he prompts, leaning closer. “It’s good, right?” 

You nod, the warmth of the food settling in your stomach. “I hate to admit it,” you start, savouring the way his expression shifts, like he’s bracing for impact. “But this is really nice.”

“I knew you’d come around.” He beams, triumphant, and you can’t help but laugh at his pure, unfiltered joy. “A good meal goes a long way.”

Even in adulthood, playing at the beach all day is a surefire way to work up an appetite. Out from the ocean, your friends come running, lazily towelling off and gathering around the food, awestruck, like it’s a gift from God. With your knees tucked to your chest, you watch them all with a smile, happy to be here, happy they’re happy, and Jay gets to work cutting his comically large fish. Despite the bickering, everyone smiles as they inspect the containers, sharing them amongst themselves, and right when you reach for one of them, Jay slides his in front of you—fish cut into neat, little bite-sized chunks. 

“It’s still kind of hot, so I’d let it sit for a bit,” he tells you quietly. 

You look up at him, finding his eyes and finding your heart rate climbing from you what see in them—earnest affection staring right back at you. His lips tip up at the corners, upending your stomach and all of the butterflies in it. 

“Okay?” you say, voice lifting on the last syllable. “Let it sit for a bit, then.” 

He laughs quietly, more to himself than anything, shaking his head. “I cut it for you,” he says, gesturing at the food like you haven’t seen it yet. 

Your gaze drifts down to it, warmth unfurling in your chest, spreading slowly—a ripple moving outward. At a loss for words, you only manage to utter his name, lips pushing into a pout as you look at him. He doesn’t say anything, just lets his eyes meet yours with that easy, unbothered smile of his like it’s no big deal, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, like he hasn’t completely undone you with such a simple action. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

It doesn’t seem like he thought much about it, considering you before considering himself. You can’t quite believe it. This stranger, practically—but that’s the thing though, isn’t it? He doesn’t feel like a stranger at all. It’s like you’ve always known him, like he’s always existed on the edge of your life, just outside the frame, waiting to step into focus. 

His stare is unwavering as he shrugs. “I know.” 

Suddenly nervous, you tuck your hair behind your ear, nudging the container towards him. “Well, at least share it with me.”

He asks if you’re sure, his brow raising slightly, as if amused, when you nod. He hesitates, eyes on the fish for a moment as he makes his decision. Then, with a small smile, he nods too. “After you.” And so, under the teasing gazes of Minjeong and Jeno, you and Jay share a portion of fish and chips—neither of you saying anything when your hands brush against each other.

Around you, your friends fall into sharp concentration, their undivided attention on their food, praising Jay’s chippy selection between bites and swallows—he sits up straighter and gives you a look each time they do, waggling his brows or wearing a toothy grin as though he’d cooked the food himself. 

Tipsy and full, everyone lays around for a while as you nurse a cider. Jay, still by your side, is telling you about a cartoon he used to watch as a kid but can’t remember the name of. Every time his eyes meet yours, the butterflies in your stomach — giddy and drunk — pick up speed, while a burning flash attacks your cheeks and neck. 

If it weren’t for the way he’s blocking the sun in front of you, you wouldn’t even have noticed Sunghoon was there until he spoke. “Can we borrow him for a sec?” he asks, looking down at you with a smile as you spot Jake standing beside him. 

You nod. “Sure, go ahead.” 

Jay doesn’t even have a chance to say anything before Sunghoon takes hold of his legs and Jake grabs him by the arms, the two boys running off towards the shore, cackling louder than Jay can yell. Jaemin and Heeseung get up to join them, making it to the water right as Jake and Sunghoon throw Jay in, and Jaemin’s so pleased he jumps around cheering with his arms up above his head.

Jeno comes over to sit with you, slinging an arm — and what you think must be all of his weight — over your shoulders, saltwater dripping from him down your back. “Jay, huh?” he asks—smile wide, eyes tired.

You only shrug in response, the weight of his arm pressing down as damp sea air clings to your skin. 

There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes as he laughs to himself. “You know what’s funny?” 

A sigh slips out of you. You’ve known Jeno long enough to know that most of the things he finds funny aren't usually very funny at all. “What?” you ask, watching Jay, who’s chasing Jake around the shoreline with a water gun that seems to have appeared from thin air.

“It’s not much,” he says. “It’s just.. I would’ve thought Heeseung was more your type.” 

He has your full attention now, eyes on him and the smirk he’s wearing. “What? Jay’s not good enough for me either?” you ask, scared to hear his answer. 

“No!” Jeno shakes his head vigorously as if offended by the mere suggestion. “Not at all. If anything I’m relieved it’s Jay, he’s sweet, good head on his shoulders. If I didn’t know you so well, I might say Jay’s out of your league.”

You’re not sure what to make of that, brows knitting together as your lips curl downwards. “I can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” 

“I’m saying I think Jay’s a good match for you, that’s all.”

At this, you hum, playing nonchalant so Jeno doesn’t see how much you value his opinion. You only let yourself smile when you look over at Jay again—who is currently being dragged at the foot through the ocean by Jake, thrashing around and yelling in protest. 

“Want me to put in a good word?” Jeno offers. “I could warn him about your Jellycat problem.” 

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “Liking plushies is not a problem, Jen. You are a problem,” you say, throwing sand at his face, laughing when he sputters. 

Jeno shakes his head, getting water and sand all over you. “Hope you’re happy, Duckie,” he says after a beat, standing up and ruffling your hair. “Jay’s going to pay for that.”

Before you can ask what he’s talking about, he takes off sprinting towards the water, towards Jay—poor, unsuspecting Jay. Jeno barrels into him, and both boys disappear into the water with a huge splash, surfacing in seconds, though only Jeno comes up with a grin on his face. Jay’s spluttering, somehow still attractive as he pushes his hair back. Jake roars with laughter, clapping Jeno on the back, seeming pleased to have an ally and Jaemin runs over to join in, whooping and hollering like it’s the best thing he’s seen all day. 

You feel bad about it, you do, honestly, as you see Jay running around the shore for dear life, three guys ganging up on him for different reasons—though you can’t help thinking it’s better him than you. 

“Time!” Jay yells, forming a T with his arms. “Time! Time, please!” Despite his best efforts, his pleas are ignored and the other guys keep pushing him around. 

Finally, waterlogged and exhausted, Jay gives up. At the first opportunity, he runs from the water without looking back, only stopping to throw himself down on the blanket beside you. “Man,” he says, fighting for breath. “What did I do?”

“Well,” you start. “I might have had something to do with Jeno tackling you,” you admit through a laugh. 

Immediately, Jay looks betrayed, shaking his head. “Wow, and here I thought we had something going,” he mutters dramatically. 

You hold up your hands defensively, eyes wide as you nod, and Jay’s façade crumbles immediately, wearing a smile of his own at the sight of you. “We do! We do! You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you explain, trying your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

Jay grins at you, nodding his head. “I guess it all worked out in the end—I’m exactly where I want to be right now.” 

It’s been two years since Donghyuck got you all barred from Hong Seunghan’s place after vomiting up cherry-flavoured Sourz all over his parents' plush white carpet—which means it’s been two years since you got relegated to the public pool like the rest of your city. Overpriced refreshments, no control over the music, and having to sneak alcohol. Not this summer, though. Oh no, because through Minjeong’s relationship with Jimin, you’ve finally made another friend with a pool. 

Over Jimin’s back garden, the sun beams brightly at you all from the cloudless sky, and save for under the parasol at the garden table, there isn’t a spot of shade in sight. The grass is hot and rough, somehow still lush despite the heat pulling sweat to every inch of your skin’s surface—if anyone’s bothered by it, you’re all having too much fun to notice. 

Typically, you spend pool days twirling the strings of your bikini bottoms around your finger, watching anxiously as your friends bob drunkenly around the pool, and worrying about their safety because no one else seemed to be. Atypically, you’re buzzed off two cans of cider and three shots of Pineapple AU that you slurped out of Donghyuck’s belly button. It is worth noting that most of your better ideas do not start with Pineapple AU — or Donghyuck — which is probably why you’re sitting on Donghyuck’s shoulders with your core fully engaged, trying to shove Aeri from Jeno’s shoulders and into the pool. As you lock eyes with her, you realise that this might not end well—but you tell yourself that’s half the fun. 

Unfortunately, your gym sessions with Aeri are only paying off for one of you—and it’s not the one who walks for an hour on the treadmill while switching through social media apps. So, much to Donghyuck’s dismay, you’ve been launched back into the pool more times than you can count, and Aeri’s hair is starting to dry from her seat on Jeno’s shoulders. 

Each defeat takes more out of you than the last, and as you splash back into the water once more, you start to wonder if it might be time for a break. As soon as you call time, Aeri and Jeno start gloating and the sight is enough to make you regret your decision. 

“This isn’t over!” you call out, and Donghyuck stands behind you, echoing your words like a child. 

When you get out of the water, the air is cooler on your skin than you expect it to be — though you appreciate it in this heat — a shiver running down your spine as you wring water from your hair, droplets splashing against the sun-baked concrete at your feet. You take a towel from a sun lounger to dry off, draping it over your shoulders, muscles pleasantly sore from the game. 

Behind you, Minjeong calls out your name. “Oh, YN!” Her tone is sing-songy in a way that makes you fear the teasing you’re about to endure, so you hesitate before turning. But when you do, you find yourself almost colliding with—Jay. He’s just arrived, you assume, with some of his friends in tow, and the sight of him makes you freeze in place, caught off-guard. You had no idea he’d be here. 

Time stands still as your eyes shamelessly trail over every inch of his exposed torso—all tact lost to alcohol and the summer heat. His skin catches the light in a way that makes him, and everything around him, seem a bit too bright. You haven’t seen him since the beach last week, and your daydreams haven’t done much for his abs, which are somehow more defined in person. It’s like a cheat code, how good he looks—too perfect to be standing there like it’s nothing. 

He catches you, of course — gawking at him like a deer in headlights — and smiles. “Hey,” he says casually, like he hasn’t just thrown your brain into total disarray. There’s something in his eyes though—a glimmer that says he knows exactly what effect he has on you. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.” 

It takes you a beat longer than it should to process his words. “I didn’t know you were coming,” you manage, hoping you sound more composed than you feel, pulse skittering in your chest. 

Before you can say anything else, Jaemin appears, draping an arm over Jay’s shoulder. “You made it!” he says, grinning widely, mischief evident in his eyes and smile—the way it often is. “Thought it might be fun to have everyone together again, you know? What do you think, Duckie?” 

You blink again, trying to clear the fog in your mind. It is immediately clear to you that Jaemin, a walking, talking good intention, is responsible—being that he outright said it. But you can’t wrap your head around why. For now though, with Jay looking at you the way he is, all soft eyes and sweet smile, you choose to cast your suspicion aside and enjoy his presence. 

“Yeah,” you say, finally finding your voice. “The more the merrier.” 

Jay’s smile widens like he’s in on something you’re not. “Glad you think so.”

Rather than using his big boy words, Jaemin exits the conversation with a backflip into the pool, drawing the attention of all the guys who cheer and applaud like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen someone do it. If this was a normal hangout with your friends, you would have rolled your eyes and turned your attention elsewhere, but Jay is here, cheering and applauding like everyone else. And it’s so endearing when he does it that you can’t help but smile. However, right when Jaemin hits the surface, a wave of water comes rushing in your direction, and Jay steps in front of you, shielding you from the worst of it, his back taking the brunt of the spray. You blink at him, a little surprised as droplets hit your feet. 

Yet again, he catches you staring, grinning brightly as he says, “Hey.” Again.

You raise a brow. “So, is it a requirement that you always show up when I’m not expecting you to?”

“More fun that way, don’t you think?” he quips, his smile widening. He leans in slightly, his voice dipping into a teasing tone. “Keeps you on your toes, huh, Duckie?” 

Coming from his mouth, the nickname is almost cute, though you can’t help cringing anyway. You sigh, bringing your hands up to cover your face, groaning softly. “Don’t let Jaem — or anyone else — fool you, Duckie is not a nickname I like.” 

Jay’s smile falters, curiosity flickering over his face. His right eyebrow quirks up, but he doesn’t ask—even though you know he’s wondering why. The memory stirs in your chest, still embarrassing, but you can laugh about it now. So you do, letting a breathy chuckle slip out as you think about it. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s taken a volleyball to the face,” you tell him. 

He blinks a few times before his teasing smile comes back in full effect—dreamy as ever. “So that’s where it comes from?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll lay off on the Duckie thing, then,” he says, his voice softening. “But if you let me off the hook for the nickname, maybe you’ll let me off the hook for something else, too.” 

Anticipation turns your stomach as you tilt your head, raising a brow in mock suspicion. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

Jay leans in a little closer. “How about..” He trails off, hesitating for a split second as if trying to feel out the moment, then gives you a sheepish smile. “How about we hang out on purpose sometime? You know, so we’re not always surprising each other.”

His words catch you off guard, pulling your lips into a grin, a breathy laugh coming out of you that brings your shoulders down a little, his suggestion sitting on the edge of the warm breeze. There’s a jelly-like feeling in your knees, leaving you off-centre. “Yeah,” you say. “I think that could be arranged.” 

Visibly relaxing, Jay nods, an exhale coming from his nose as he smiles, showing off his dimples. “Cool.” He nods again, once, firmly—seeming not to notice Sunghoon’s sudden closeness over his shoulder as he goes on. “Cool, so maybe I coul—” He’s cut off by Sunghoon leaning in and yelling, “Boo!” straight into his ear. 

Jay flinches, his hand flying up to his ear like he’s been stung, eyes wide for a second before narrowing in irritation. Sunghoon cackles, already taking off in a sprint across the grass, and Jay groans, rubbing his temple before chasing after his friend. “I’m sorry!” he yells to you over his shoulder. 

A laugh comes out of you as you watch them. And you’re still laughing when Aeri comes up behind you, her arms snaking around your waist as her chin digs lightly into your shoulder. “Chicken round two?” she asks quietly like it’s a secret.

You nod, but the moment you start moving, Donghyuck cuts you off, shaking his head—a firm no. “I’m busy,” he says without looking up from his phone. Craning your neck, you get a look at his screen where he’s saving the world apparently, one level of Candy Crush at a time. 

“Serious business, I see,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else. 

Aeri lets out a soft laugh, her grip on you easing up as she peels herself away, already halfway out of the conversation. Jeno snagged her attention, calling her name from the pool and the splash you hear behind you tells you everything you need to know. You’re left there, standing with your hands on your hips like Superman, as you glance around the pool, weighing your options. With Jeno and Aeri already paired up, he’s out; Jaemin being, quite conveniently, nowhere to be found; and Donghyuck rejecting you before you can even get the question out, you quickly realise you’re fresh out of options. 

Almost. 

Your gaze lands on Jay, who’s sitting on the grass, leaning back on his palms, laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes as he talks to Sunghoon. You hesitate, the thought of being so close to Jay with his hands on your thighs giving you pause. You’re not sure you’ll be able to act normal in that position. Sighing, you look back towards the house and spot Heeseung and Jake sitting at the table with Minjeong and Jimin, and relief washes over you. Minjeong is comfortably settled in Jimin’s lap, her eyes fluttering open the second you approach as if she can sense your presence. She smiles when you squeeze her shoulder. 

“Either of you girls up for a round of chicken?” you ask, already knowing they’ll say no too. 

Minjeong’s smile is apologetic, and Jimin’s is teasing as they both shake their heads, looking up at you from their seat. You turn your attention to the boys across the table, and there’s a smile on Jake’s face that tells you he’s dying for you to ask him. So you do, or at least you try to—he shoots up out of his seat before you even finish saying his name, nodding fervently until Heeseung elbows him and he keels over, wincing. 

“On second thought,” he manages, sitting back down. “I’m not in the mood to play chicken,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring at his friend, though Heeseung looks up at you with a smile, the picture of innocence. 

“Sorry, YN. I’m not in the mood either,” Heeseung says, sounding sincere. “But I’m sure Jay would be happy to play if you asked.” 

The girls giggle amongst themselves at this obvious attempt to put you and Jay together in one manner or another, and you can’t help laughing too. 

Jake’s nodding enthusiastically now, seeming to realise what’s going on, just a beat too late. “Jay loves chicken,” he says reverently. “He’s like the chicken fight master.” 

You grin despite yourself. “Is that so?”

Looking back over your shoulder, you set your sights on Jay, who’s now lying down — abandoned by Sunghoon who’s sitting with Donghyuck and Yizhuo — oblivious to the plot forming around him. You take a deep breath and approach him, one step at a time, until you’re standing over him. Jay’s eyes snap open when you say hi, smiling at you as he stands up. 

“You’ll never guess what Jake let slip about you.”

The colour drains from his face, and you watch as his smile wavers. “He’s exaggerating,” he blurts out. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, feigning disappointment. “That’s too bad. I heard you’re the chicken fight master.” 

For a moment, he watches you before running a hand through his hair, serious all of a sudden. “They actually call it a Jay fight where I’m from,” he tells you, shrugging, though his casual demeanour slips when you laugh, and he grins. “I’m retired now though. Wanted to go to university, do normal 21-year-old shit, you know? Change of pace.” 

You roll your eyes, resting your hands on your hips. “Are you going to play with me or not, Jay?” 

Deciding not to wait for his answer, you turn on your heels and walk away — perhaps with more of a sway in your hips than normal — and hoping he’ll follow. After a beat he does, footsteps padding along the grass as he jogs after you. When you look over your shoulder, his eyes are on your ass, and his ears burn red when he realises you’ve caught him staring. 

A wicked grin spreads over your face as you get into the pool and Jay follows suit, much to Jeno’s great satisfaction as he calls out from the other side, “Took you long enough!” The smile on his face doesn’t quite manage the impatience in his voice. 

Jay pinches his nostrils before ducking under the water, his free hand tapping your thigh—a silent signal for you to get on. Your heart was already racing just thinking about his hands on your legs, but now, as you get settled on his shoulders, his head between your thighs as he wraps his arms around them, your heart, you think, is on its last beat. As soon as he stands up straight, you notice how much more stable he is than Donghyuck, and realise that his grip on your thighs might send you into a frenzy. 

He tips his head back, looking up at you with concern written all over his face. “All good?” he asks, squeezing your thighs in a way you think is meant to be reassuring, but only serves to send you into a panic.

“All good,” you repeat, breathless. 

He smiles, squeezing your thighs again and the game starts before you can think about it too hard.

Being on Jay’s shoulders, feeling his strength beneath you, gives you a renewed sense of determination. Alight with competitive energy you didn’t know you could bring out for a swimming pool game, you find yourself finally pushing Aeri over. Not once. Not twice. But three consecutive times. Each time, the victory is sweeter and sweeter—Jay’s smile forcing a swell of pride to heat your chest, forcing frenzied butterflies to flutter. 

With each of Aeri’s defeats, she takes longer and longer to come up from the water, though she seems delighted now that you’re actually trying, a huge grin on her face every time Jeno hoists her up into the air, wobbling a little from sweet cocktails and all the extra height she’s gained on his shoulders. And for a fourth time, she falls back into the pool, cackling to herself on the way down as you and Jay high-five. 

Leave it to Jaemin to spoil everyone’s fun though, as he comes out of the house with a bottle of water in hand, and his eyes popping out of their sockets at the sight of you on Jay’s shoulders. “Looking pretty calm out there for a guy who can’t swim, huh, Jay?” 

You freeze, and Jay does too, losing your balance as Jaemin’s words sink in. “Wait, what?” you ask after a beat, glancing down at him. “You can’t swim?” 

Jay looks up, a sheepish yet amused smile on his face. “Not really, no.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Why would you get in the pool? Why would you agree to this?” 

He hesitates for a moment before squeezing your thigh, lips curving into a small smile. “Because you asked me to.” 

The simplicity of his answer, his honesty and his firm grip on your thighs heat your body from the inside out. You stare down at him, all thoughts of the game and everything else lost to the fondness in his eyes. It’s hard to focus on anything other than Jay and the way your heart races in your chest. For fear of saying something stupid, you decide to do something stupid instead. Your breath catches for a moment, eyes on his, hanging in the balance. Without a second thought, you screw your eyes shut and throw yourself back into the water, the splash jolting you back to reality.

“Because you asked me to,” he’d said, and what kind of response is that? Overwhelmed and waterlogged, you can’t find the words to say back. Can’t process anything but the hiss of water in your ears, the laughter of your friends. Too soon, you resurface, pushing your hair out of your face just in time to see him grinning at you, clearly amused by your display. 

You have no idea how Jay manages to say the things he says so easily, or why it always moves you so much—but you are certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that this boy and that pretty mouth of his are going to be a big problem for you this summer.

Since she’s always the quickest to get ready, Minjeong is always the last to get into the shower, and you can hear her playlist through the walls. In her room, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone while Jimin sits cross-legged in front of the full-length mirror, digging through her makeup bag.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she starts, glancing at your reflection with a bit of hesitation. “But Minjeong told me about your little crush on Jay.” 

Her words make you pause mid-scroll, the corners of your lips twitching up in amusement. “I figured she might’ve told you,” you say, setting your phone down. “Though I’m not sure there’s much to do about it. He’s cute, sure, but..”

Jimin twists around to face you, careful not to topple her drink. “Minjeong also told me about your whole.. self-sabotage thing,” she adds cautiously. 

A resigned laugh slips out of you. “Yeah, that sounds like Minjeong.” 

Along with her softening facial expression, her tone becomes gentler too. “No one’s saying you have to, like, marry the guy, but if you like him — or even if you just think he’s cute — maybe it’s worth giving it a shot. Wouldn’t you rather look back and know you tried, instead of wondering what might’ve been?” 

Try as you might, you can’t keep your smile from faltering. Even though your group and friendship with Jaemin survived, it took a long time for that to seem like a viable option, for you to hear his name without an ache in your chest—all because you wanted to give it a shot. You do your best to remind yourself that Jimin’s only being supportive, that things don’t have to end badly this time, but you can’t shake the bitter taste in your mouth at the thought—like your body’s way of warning you about making the same mistake twice.

“I’ll think about it,” you say after a beat, voice too formal, too stiff. 

Jimin doesn’t let up though, only grinning at you and nodding her head like you’ve made a promise. “If you’re worried about him being a dick or something, don’t be. Jay’s too nice for his own good.” 

“So I keep hearing.” 

She gives you a look, assessing you for a second before laughing. “Only because it’s true.” And with that, she turns back to the mirror as the shower cuts off. 

Over the next hour, the three of you finish getting ready, right on time for Jeno to pick you all up for pres at Aeri’s. Nobody mentions Jay until you get there. When you get out of the car, Jeno gives you a once over, smiling to himself as the waning 10 p.m. sun shows off the mischief in his eyes. 

“Is Jay coming tonight?” he asks. 

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about it,” you lie, thankful that Jimin and Minjeong are too busy with each other to expose you—or leave the car. 

Jeno, on the other hand, is not so easily fooled and he raises a sceptical eyebrow but keeps his mouth shut. 

“Okay, fine,” you admit, sighing. “I was thinking he might be, but I’m not sure.” 

The girls choose this moment to leave the car, and you wait for traffic to pass by before crossing the road to Aeri’s building. A satisfied laugh curls up Jeno’s entire face, his shoulders shaking as he holds the door open. “Well, whether he shows up or not, at least you look nice,” he says in a tone that leaves you wondering where the teasing ends and the compliment begins. 

In her living room, Aeri’s putting glasses on the table as music spills out from her JBL speaker, bass thrumming through the wall. She’s standing in front of the globe floor lamp she bought on Facebook Marketplace last week, silhouetted in soft yellow, glowing at the edges in the dark room, and so stunning in her cute black dress. Jeno thinks so too, gasping beside you when he sees her. He wastes no time giving her a hug, whispering in her ear, making her giggle—bright and carefree, beaming up at him. The smile doesn’t leave her face as she waves at you and the other girls. You hug her and follow her to the fridge, helping carry over the drinks — a six-pack of cider, three bottles of soju, and a bottle of lemonade — and the five of you settle around the table, Jimin on Minjeong’s lap so there’s room for everyone. 

Aeri’s place might just be your favourite, cosy and just big enough for a handful of you to hang out, always quieter and more intimate than the chaos of a day spent at your apartment or Yizhuo’s. Everyone else is meeting at Mark’s house for the party, while you, Minjeong and Jimin opted to ride with Jeno, which led to Aeri offering to host the four of you for pre-drinks. 

Beaming, she pulls up a Power Hour video on her laptop, turning the screen so everyone can see the timer. A rush of dread washes over you as you eye your glass, kindly filled up by Jeno with a 1:1 ratio of cider and soju that tastes startlingly juice-like. In the seat across from you — self-appointed designated driver — Jeno’s taking huge gulps of water as each minute passes quicker than the last, conversation becoming funnier and funnier, grimaces fading into smiles. You’re about fifteen minutes in when Jeno’s phone lights up with Donghyuck’s name on it and he answers with a smile, putting him on speaker. Muffled music comes through the phone as Donghyuck complains, as always, about how late you all are and how stupid he looks standing by himself. 

“It’s okay, Hyuckie!” Jimin starts, pausing only to hiccup. “You’re still going to look stupid when we’re all together.” Her words are running into each other already, her plan of alternating shots of soju and lemonade not quite working out the way she’d expected. 

“Thanks, bud. That means a lot,” Donghyuck deadpans, and you can hear his eye roll through the phone. 

Minjeong covers Jimin’s mouth with her hand and Jeno gives her a grateful smile, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to his ear. “We’ll leave in five, send me the address,” he says before hanging up. With a bright smile, he tucks his phone away before downing the last of his water, unprompted by the video. “Drink up, and let’s go.” 

With the timer zeroing in on eighteen minutes, you don’t take your eyes off the screen and finish off your drink when the video tells you to. The warmth of soju and cider settles in your stomach as you stand up, limbs suddenly lighter. Jimin giggles beside you, leaning into Minjeong, who gives her a soft smile, her own laughter bubbling up in response. 

As you gather your things and head for the door, Aeri slips her arm through yours, her head leaning on your shoulder. “You look so pretty, I love this dress on you,” she tells you quietly, pinching your waist. “Drink as much as you want tonight, I’ll take care of you.” She holds out her pinky finger towards you, wagging it as she waits for you to lock your finger with hers. 

You smile, locking your pinky with hers to seal the promise and keeping them locked until you reach the car. The warmth of her words sticks with you as you buckle your seatbelt, and without even realising it, you’re smoothing out your dress and checking your makeup in your phone camera. Jay and curiosity about his attendance tonight creep into your thoughts, wrapping around your mind like a vine. 

Jimin and Minjeong instruct Aeri to turn the volume up to full blast, belting out California Gurls like their lives depend on it, but even the bass, frying the speakers and rattling against your calf can’t distract you—your curiosity won’t loosen up. It follows you down the street, through Mark’s front door and straight into the thick, pulsing thrum of the party. Even the start of your favourite party song thudding through the house, vibrating in your chest like a heartbeat, isn’t enough to shake the hold Jay has on your mind.

It’s not until Jaehyun hugs you, handing you a drink you recognise to be his signature vodka lemonade right when you smell it — though lemonade-tinged vodka would be a better name for your new drink — that you’re finally tugged back down to earth, back into the moment. This moment, in Mark Lee’s parents’ hallway with guests flooding in by the second, weed, cologne and a plug-in air freshener mingling under your nose in a way you won’t say you dislike.

Jaemin hugs you next, and it’s only when he says he thought you came with Minjeong that you realise she and Jimin have disappeared from your side—he laughs when you tell him you did. With a raised brow, he ducks down to sniff the cup Jaehyun gave you and immediately recoils, shaking his head before replacing the cup with his own. 

He leans down, mouth against your ear, whispered words tickling your skin. “Pace yourself, Duckie,” he says protectively, though barely a second later, you hear a grin spread over his lips. “Got a feeling you might want to remember tonight.” Straightening up, Jaemin winks at you, nodding towards the kitchen.

Knowing Jaemin, any number of things could be waiting for you over the threshold, and as much as you’re hoping it’s Jay, you’re a little more excited to see him than what you think is appropriate. Grin still sitting on his lips, Jaemin slings an arm over Jaehyun’s shoulders and the two take off towards the front door. With a deep breath, you lift his cup to your lips, hoping the alcohol will help you loosen up a bit, and maybe if it wasn’t a cup of water, it might have.

Seeming to sense your thoughts, Aeri distracts you by throwing herself around to the music and you can’t help but join in, Jeno following suit as he laughs at your dancing. You’re not sure who’s responsible for the playlist, but you won’t pretend like you’re not having the time of your life jumping around to Black Eyed Peas and Nirvana. 

Mid-headbang, Jeno nudges you hard enough to jostle your cup, cool water spilling over your fingers and slipping down your wrist. You blink, eyes locked on his finger instead of what it’s pointing at. “There’s your boy,” he says in your ear, voice low and teasing.

Your heart kicks up a notch as you turn—and there he is. Your boy. 

With Huh Yunjin. 

Jay’s standing by the counter, nodding slowly at her. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can hear how loud she’s laughing about it, her head falling back as her hand hits his bicep, lingering before falling to his forearm and then back to her side. Yunjin flirting, that much is clear—flipping her silky dark hair, batting her long lashes at him. And Jay is.. he’s smiling. A lot. That same easy grin you’ve been daydreaming about for the past few weeks. 

When you look back at Jeno, his smile doesn’t falter, bright and sweet, reassuring. “He’s just being nice,” he says, waving a hand dismissively like it’s obvious. 

Maybe it is. 

Either way, you need to get out of here. 

Unfortunately, the kitchen is your closest escape route, a narrow corridor of laughter and sticky floors, the sharp smell of spilt beer, and something frying in a pan. Laughter rings louder in here, or maybe it’s just Yunjin’s—bright, clear, happy. You don’t dare glance at them. Your feet move faster, eyes fixed on the smudged glass of the back door. The LEDs in the kitchen are too vivid, shifting through the spectrum at what must be lightspeed, catching on the edges of Jay’s smile—you can feel it even if you refuse to look. Her laugh spills through the air, wrapping around you, making the room smaller.

Under your hand, the door gives easily, like it understands your urgency, and as soon as you step outside, the air is thicker than you remember—a stuffy night that might swallow you whole, and you find yourself staring at the sky. Despite being indistinguishable from one another, meshing to create a great, thick purple mass over your head, you can’t deny how beautiful the clouds still are. You don’t mean to get so caught up in the sight, but it happens, forcing you to take a seat in the dry grass before you even realise it. 

There is, you’ve found, something quite humbling about getting second, third, and fourth opinions on your outfit after perfecting your hair and makeup, only to be bested by a girl with bright pink star-shaped pimple patches on, wearing a baby tee and baggy jorts—the outfit you’d changed out of in favour of Aeri’s black dress that’s a guaranteed compliment magnet. 

The clouds, while messy, are a good distraction from what you saw inside, which.. was nothing, ultimately. It’s not like it’s against the law to laugh and drink with a girl. Is it? You shake your head to clear the thought. The clouds are pretty and everyone around you is having a good time, so you should too. 

You hear Jay’s voice before you see him, smile audible around his words, each syllable dripping with excitement. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you!” he calls out from behind you. It’s the kind of statement that might come off as cliché, mildly ridiculous if it weren’t for the fact that Jay said it. And because it is Jay — and because you are drunk — it feels like something else entirely. Something you can’t quite put your finger on but makes your heart stutter all the same.

When he reaches you, he asks if he can sit and you nod, patting the spot beside you in the grass. Jay doesn’t hesitate to sit down, leaving no space between the two of you, thigh pressed against yours like there’s no other option—like it belongs there. His lips curl up even more, and there’s that smile, beautiful even in the dark—a little lopsided, entirely irresistible. The kind of smile you haven’t seen since the night you met, drunken giddiness written all over it, eyes twinkling at you. For a split second, you remember Yunjin’s hand on his arm, how he’d smiled at her. But here he is, beside you now, all of his attention on you, and it’s hard to remember why you’d been bothered at all. With your heart beating in the back of your throat, you turn away from him, head tilting towards the sky again, eyes locked on the clouds.

Jay doesn’t take his eyes off you. “What’re we looking at?” he asks, voice thick with curiosity. 

“The clouds,” you say softly, raising your arm to point at the sky as if he might not understand. “They’re kind of a mess tonight—I can’t make anything out.” 

At this, he follows your gaze, leaning back on his hands. You turn your head instinctively, attention on him and the straight slope of his nose. His smile doesn’t fade, his dimple is still showing. He looks so good it’s unreasonable—how could you ever look at another guy and be anything remotely close to interested again? It seems like getting to watch him watch the clouds is the universe’s way of rewarding you for existing.

“Huh.. I can’t make anything out either,” he says finally. “But, I really like your dress. A lot, you look so beautiful, I like it.” 

An audible smile stretches your lips, heart tripping over itself as you thank him, cheeks burning enough to rival the summer heat.

Silence falls between you and it’s as if the world has shrunk down to you two and the murky sky above—sounds of the party quieting to a distant hum as they fade into the background. It’s nice, more comfortable than maybe it should be, though fleeting because Jay’s quick to break it, amusement clear in his voice when he says, “Jaehyun is so gone, by the way. I don’t know if you’ve seen him, but he’s completely fucked.”

You can’t help but laugh, finding the image easy to picture even without seeing him tonight. “Yeah, Jeno’s on DD tonight. Poor guy, I think Jaehyun’s just trying to make up for all the drinks Jen’s missing.”

Jay considers this for a while, head nodding in slow contemplation before he chuckles—a low, sardonic sound. “Jeno’s.. he’s a solid guy.”

This makes you laugh too, a soft smile on your lips as you agree, perhaps too dreamily. “Yeah, he is.” 

“You two seem really close,” he blurts out, all subtlety lost to alcohol. 

“We are really close.” You shrug, fighting a smile. “He likes to pretend we all annoy him, but I know he likes us relying on him—so I’m always asking him for help with things, even if I know I can do it myself.”

Jay turns his head slightly, his eyes still on you, but there’s something different in his gaze now that makes your breath catch. It’s soft again, more than you’ve ever seen it as a small smile curves his lips. “You’re always looking after everyone, aren’t you?”

You wonder if his question is a trap, but step into it anyway. “I’m trying to,” you admit, keeping your answer short before you start monologuing about how much you love doing it.

Your response only makes his smile widen, a soft look in his eyes when he says, “Maybe I should start looking after you, then. You keep focusing on everyone else, and I’ll focus on you.”

A tickly flutter goes off in your stomach at his words. It’s so Jay to say something like that and mean it, and it works on you every single time. 

“Yeah, alright,” you say, giving in. “Maybe you should.”

Ever since you got Jay’s number, you’ve been hyper aware of the fact that you have it. His name, Park Jay, nestled snugly between Na Jaemin and Park Jisung in your contact list, sticks out like a sore thumb—reminding you of the fact that you haven’t used it yet, even though you want to.

Jay, choosing to be a gentleman — you think — had asked if you wanted his number after Mark’s party like it wasn’t a big deal and beamed when you said yes—placing the ball firmly in your court. And there it’s been, for a whole week, sitting at your feet, collecting dust. 

Minjeong’s teasing has been lighthearted enough, poking her head into your room and asking if you’ve texted him yet quickly becoming part of her daily routine. And shaking your head while mumbling a refutation has quickly become part of yours. But when Minjeong teams up with Jimin? That’s another story entirely. Emboldened by her girlfriend, Minjeong’s pestering is relentless. After an hour of being ignored — even though you’re wedged between them on the couch — you find yourself wishing for the constant teasing instead. 

Enough is enough. 

Your frustration reaches a peak, forcing you off the couch. “Fine!” you say, shocking yourself, and the girls with your volume. “What should I say?” 

Jimin gives you a wicked grin, eyes glowing with mischief, but Minjeong is quick to rein her in. “Just ask if he wants to hang out tonight.” 

“Tonight? Minjeong, it’s six o’clock!” you say, scandalised at the mere suggestion. 

“What are you, eighty? It’s barely evening!” Jimin scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong shakes her head. “No, this is perfect. If he takes a while to respond, it won’t be too late to make new plans.” 

“Takes a while to respond?” Jimin repeats, eyes wide with shock. She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “This is YN we’re talking about. The poor guy’s probably been glued to his phone all week, wondering what’s taking so long.” 

The visual, while unrealistic, makes you giddy all the same—the thought of Jay pacing around his apartment, phone in hand, getting his hopes up when it goes off, only to sigh when he realises it’s not you. You can’t help getting carried away while the girls go back and forth, imagining what it might be like when you finally text him, losing his cool over a simple: Hey, it’s YN. Sorry, I took so long, been busy. Apparently, in this version of events, you’re a cool girl™—vague, mysterious, and nonchalant. Confident, cocky even, but no one cares because you’re hot and everyone knows it. 

In the spirit of the cool girl™, you pull up his contact and start typing, sending your message without hesitation. 

You: Hey, I was just wondering if you’re free tn and maybe we could hang out?

You: This is YN btw………

Against all the odds, as Jimin predicted, Jay replies immediately, like he’d truly been waiting by the phone for you to text. You’re so taken aback by his response that you gasp, causing both girls’ heads to snap in your direction, eyes wide with anticipation. But you’re too caught up trying to process the speed of his reply to relay the fact it happened at all. 

“What?” They say in unison. “What is it?” 

“YN!” you read out loud, snapping back to reality. “Good hearing from you, I was actually about to start making dinner.” 

“I told you! I told you!” Jimin jumps to her feet, joy radiating from every single part of her. In the middle of her celebration, your phone vibrates with another text from him, and she reads it aloud over your shoulder. “If you haven’t eaten already, we could eat together?” 

At this, Minjeong gets up too, standing on your other side as he starts typing again. 

Jay: And if you have eaten already, maybe you could just keep me company while I eat?

The girls immediately spring into action, running to your bedroom before you’ve even had a chance to send a reply to him. After minimal deliberation, you tell him you haven’t eaten yet, and Jay asks if you like steak. With your plans confirmed, and butterflies in your stomach, you join the girls, sighing when you see the state of your room—wardrobe doors flung open, your dresser drawers all varying levels of ajar, and potential outfits laid out on the bed. 

Despite the mess they’ve made, having the girls around to help out has really taken a weight off your shoulders, and as you pull your favourite skirt over your hips, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. In your full-length mirror, you assess the outfit — with Minjeong and Jimin grinning at either side of you like your fairy godmothers — and nod your head, deeming it worthy. Cute and simple enough to seem effortless despite the thirty minutes it took all three of you to agree on it.

With your makeup done and a strawberry margarita — which Jimin coerced you into drinking ‘for confidence’ — heating your stomach, the two girls finally dismiss you, watching you walk to the bus stop from the living room window, yelling a stream of good lucks and tell us everythings. 

On Jay’s doorstep, you can’t help but linger, wondering if it’s not too late to walk away. Wondering how on earth you went from sitting in silence on the couch to standing outside of the door to — what feels like — the rest of your life in a matter of hours. Doubts creep in, and the bottle of wine poking out of your bag starts feeling like a bit much, a box of chocolates might have sufficed. Maybe you should have come empty-handed; it’s not like this is a date or anything. 

Right?

Jay answers the door when you knock on it. Handsome as ever with a wide smile on his face, a button-up and loose jeans hanging from his frame—exuding an effortlessness that has you weak in the knees. You barely manage to get all the way through saying hello to him when he pulls you into a hug, the light scent of laundry detergent and something warm, sweet, hits your nostrils, distracting you from the weight of his arms around your shoulders, and how at ease you suddenly are. 

“Did you get here okay? I know the route from the bus stop can be kind of tricky.” His hold on you loosens, though his scent lingers. Concern knits his brows together, eyes boring into yours as his lips pout around his words. “I wish you would’ve let me pick you up.” 

Butterflies go wild in your stomach as you smile at him, shaking your head. “I got on just fine, Jay, stop worrying,” you assure him—like the five-minute walk, as Google Maps predicted, hadn’t taken you ten minutes. 

Jay stares down at you like he doesn’t believe you, though he doesn’t press you on it, only stepping aside to let you in. He tells you that you look so pretty, that he’s happy to see you as you take your shoes off by the door, and, shyly, you mumble your thanks, cheeks burning. Immediately, you take the bottle of wine from your bag, holding it out to him. With both hands, he accepts it, grinning at you, gratitude clear in his eyes. Behind him, there’s a white console table—stylish and sleek, yes, but it’s the painting leaning against it that catches your eye. A landscape, abstract with thick strokes of lush greens, and blocky white masses scattered over what looks like a blue sky. Jay follows your eyeline over his shoulder, looking back at you with a smile. 

“It’s new, Hoon brought it when he got back from visiting his parents, his little sister painted it.” 

Nosy, you nod eagerly when Jay offers a tour of his apartment—it’s spotless. Cleaner than the place you and Minjeong share, which admittedly, with all the hosting you’ve been doing, has a habit of getting messy within hours of straightening up. All of the furniture is sleek, modern yet tasteful, leaps and bounds away from the micro-trend hellscapes that some of the other guys you know inhabit.

Sunghoon’s bedroom door is propped open, and Jay lets you peek inside, though begs you not to cross the threshold because he’ll know. With a smile on his face, he explains that it’s the bigger of the two rooms and that they played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get it—though both boys walked away victorious, with Sunghoon winning the bigger room, and Jay winning the en-suite. It might be the tidiest bedroom you’ve seen in your life, nothing looks like it’s not in place. Even his rug is perfectly aligned, running parallel to the bed, and the only thing on his dresser is a framed photo of Sunghoon and his friends, sitting dead centre. 

“Is he home tonight?” you ask, suddenly noting the stillness of the apartment. 

Jay’s answer takes a moment to come out, a look on his face that tells you he wasn’t expecting you to ask. “I.. I sort of kicked him out when you agreed to come over,” he admits, looking down at his feet. There’s a bashfulness to his demeanour that you’re not used to seeing from him, but endears you nonetheless. A giggle slips out when you see the red flush spreading over his neck. 

Only as he continues leading you through the apartment does your solitude, and its weight, dawn on you—the fact that he went out of his way to ensure you’d be alone. Your heart skips a beat, imagination spiralling out of control as you wonder what this might mean about tonight, or if Jay has any expectations. Before you even have the chance to picture his button-up slipping down his shoulders, rationale reels you back in. You’d have done the same if roles were reversed—asking Minjeong to leave. Not because of ‘expectations’, but to rid you both of the pressure of having an audience.

In contrast, Jay’s room is full of clutter—though somehow remains tidy. All of his likes and interests greet you from every corner—walls covered in posters, trinkets on his desk, a handful of plushies on his bed, a full guitar stand by the door, and a glass display cabinet housing his collection of whiskey and signed records. With utmost reverence, he takes a moment to tell you about his most prized possession, a signed copy of Definitely Maybe by Oasis. 

“I was so distracted trying to bid for that on the train, I ended up like four towns over and the ticket inspector charged me crazy. Worth it though.”

“I bet,” you agree with a smile, feeling like you understand him better after having seen his room. 

As Jay leads you to the kitchen, you can’t stop yourself from saying, “I never thought you’d be such a neat freak.” 

He chuckles, raising a brow as he looks at you. “You think about me?” 

This makes you stutter, unsure how to respond and Jay nudges you gently with his elbow. 

“I’m teasing, relax.” He’s smirking though, triumphant looking. “It’s all Hoon’s doing,” he admits after a beat. “I probably wouldn’t be so tidy if it wasn’t for him picking up after me all the time when we roomed together in first year. He made it a habit.” 

Everything is laid out on the counter, waiting to be cooked, and Jay ties a black apron around his waist, suddenly becoming very cinched in his oversized clothes, the breadth of his shoulders standing out to you like a third person in the room. Right when you offer to help him out, Jay offers you a drink. You say yes. Jay says no. 

“Should we open the bottle?” he asks, reaching for it when you nod. “I wouldn’t invite you over for dinner then make you cook it, come on, YN, have some faith in me.”

“Alright, alright,” you concede, shy under his soft gaze.

With a nod, Jay reaches into one of the cabinets behind him, pulling out two glasses and opening the bottle. He pours the wine into both of them, filling one about halfway, while you stand around awkwardly, lingering by the counter. With the fuller glass in hand, he steps past you, setting it down on the table and pulling out a chair. 

“You can sit down if you’d like,” he offers, eyes meeting yours as his hands rest on the back of the chair. 

A smile tugs at your lips, and you nod. “I’d like,” you say, sitting down. “How come you filled mine up so much?” you ask. 

“If it were just me, I’d drive home after two glasses and some time, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything when I’m taking you home, so I just poured a little so I could try it.” 

You nod, not even trying to argue on the point of him driving you home later because it already took you ten minutes to convince him to let you make your own way to his. With a smile, Jay clinks his glass against yours and the two of you take a sip. 

To you, wine is wine—you like white, you love rosé, and you can tolerate red if you’re already drunk. To Jay, it seems, wine is an experience—a great one if the appreciative hum he lets out while examining the label is anything to go by. 

“You know your shit, huh? White doesn’t typically go with steak, but chardonnay is beautiful, this one especially,” he comments after a sip, setting down his glass.

“Really?” When Jay nods in response, you smile. “Lucky guess,” you tell him, shrugging. 

This is not entirely untrue—if the definition of a ‘lucky guess’ can be stretched to include meticulous research into finding out which white wine pairs best with steak, and pulling a highly recommended (and affordable) bottle from the shelf at the shop after reading an argument on the r/wine subreddit. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand?” you ask again.

Jay nods. “I promise.” 

“There’s really nothing I can do to help?” 

“Just let me do something nice for you,” he says, though it comes out like a question, like a sincere request. 

It’s nice, albeit weird, to have him — to have anyone — insist on taking care of you when you’re perfectly capable. Of course, Jeno’s always there to take you home when you’ve had too much to drink, and Minjeong will always make you soup and hot tea when you have the flu, but neither of them would ever insist on doing all the work, while you, unencumbered by alcohol or illness, sit there and watch. 

Jay’s words echo in your head, each one slowly sinking in with tangible weight and then hitting you all at once. You keep focusing on everyone else, and I’ll just focus on you. He’s keeping his promise, you realise. Without prompt or reminder, not out of obligation or expectation, but simply because he can and wants to. This realisation changes the way he looks to you—he’s softer around the edges somehow, hazy like an apparition, glowing under the soft warm cast of the lightbulb over your heads. 

It’s at this moment, here in Jay’s kitchen, that you realise this isn’t just a silly crush anymore. 

As dreamy as the situation is, with a handsome man — who is not only kind, but is living and breathing and single — about to make a meal for you, it’s not the ideal moment for such an epiphany. 

At the table, you sit with one leg crossed over the other, admiring the various magnets and photos stuck to the fridge, showing off trips to different countries and nights out immortalised in 6x4 prints, pretending like you feel a healthy and appropriate amount of affection for the man in front of you. All the while he moves around the kitchen, washing his hands before opening a packet of spaghetti. He falters, staring at it like it’s some kind of puzzle, but he doesn’t speak up until he notices your eyes on him. 

“I swear I know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. 

You smile, amused. “I don’t doubt it.”

Jay empties some of the noodles into his palm, holding it in his hand and eyeing it for a beat before extending it to you with wide eyes. “Do you think that’s enough for one serving?” 

Tilting your head, you try to remember the general rule. “I think it’s meant to be about the size of a coin.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, nodding along. “Which one?”

“I.. have no idea.”

Jay grins, wide and boyish — butterfly-inducing — shaking his head. “Great advice, YN. Thanks.”

It only takes a quick Google search to restore his confidence, and before long, the kitchen is filled with the sound of boiling water bubbling away on the stove as the pasta softens into it. In the meantime, he cracks two eggs into a bowl, whisking them together before grating a generous amount of cheese into the mixture. You watch him with interest, leaning over a little. For Jay, the cooking process is a much more serious practice than when you do it—lucky to find yourself making more than a pot of ramen or rice in the cooker. 

“Did you put olive oil in the water?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

Jay smiles, shaking his head. “You’re not supposed to. At least, they don’t in Italy.” 

“Ahh,” you hum, nodding thoughtfully. “When in Rome.” 

He finds this hilarious, laughing as he stirs the mixture. “When in Rome,” he repeats to himself under his breath, trying the phrase on for size. 

Even with his attention back on the task at hand, focused on making dinner — a simple but delicious meal, steak and pasta, his speciality, he’d said — his enthusiasm is subtle yet hard to miss. It’s not lost on you how his eyes light up when he lifts the dark green sleeve on the end of the counter, taking out a shiny knife. It's new, he tells you, before launching into a story about how he ran around like a madman this afternoon trying to get it sharpened. A proud grin on his face as he shows you the spot on the bottom of the blade where his name is engraved. 

It’s clear as day that cooking is more than a hobby for him, but a passion—a fact that shows itself to you as the process continues. From the way his tongue pokes out between his lips while he works to how carefully he handles each of the ingredients—chopping vegetables delicately, only seasoning the steaks on one side, and going so far as to wrap them in twine so they keep their shape. He doesn’t skimp out on presentation either. He uses chopsticks to twirl the pasta in the pan before moving it carefully to the centre of the plate, twirling it again for good measure. The first one comes out beautifully, restaurant-worthy, and the second one—not so much. Even after a few attempts, the pasta still refuses to cooperate, and the tips of his ears flush. 

“Only one of them needs to look good,” he mumbles, a sheepish smile on his face as he looks up at you. “This one’s mine.” His honesty is endearing, and you grin despite yourself as you watch him chop the cooked steak, sheer concentration written all over his face. 

After a while, he looks up from the chopping board, his gaze meeting yours, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “Sorry if I’m being weird,” he blurts out. “I don’t normally cook in front of anyone besides my mum.” 

A soft smile plays on your lips as you try to ignore the butterflies flitting about in your stomach. “You’re not being weird, don’t worry about it,” you assure him, doing your best to sound calm and collected. To sound like someone who’s not reading too much into being one of the first people to see him cook. “If anything, I’m the weirdo who can’t take her eyes off you.”

Jay chuckles at this, a grin spreading across his face as he shakes his head. “That makes two of us.”

With more success, he moves the chopped steak from board to plate, setting the sauteed vegetables on the side. A sigh of relief slips out of him, proud of his work, and he smiles at you, carrying your plate to the table and setting it down in front of you before bringing over his own plate and glass. 

Steam brings the smell straight to your nose, so enticing already that you have to suppress a moan—though you can’t do anything about the quiet rumbling of your stomach. The food looks beautiful, so beautiful that without thinking, you pull out your phone and snap a picture, knowing that this moment — this meal — will linger in your mind long after tonight, no matter what ends up happening between you and Jay. 

As you set your phone down, his eyes are lit up with anticipation. You wonder if he notices the way he’s leaning forward, watching you expectantly, like a student awaiting a teacher’s critique, eager for you to take that first bite. The weight of his gaze makes you nervous, but as another, particularly tempting, waft of steak tickles your nostrils, you pick up your fork and tuck in. 

Life begins, in earnest you think, the moment the food touches your tongue. It’s a simple meal, a carbonara with steak, but it’s unlike anything you’ve eaten in your life. Your eyes flutter shut and you slump in your seat a little, a low hum of approval escaping your lips. The steak is tender, perfectly seasoned, and the pasta is rich, creamy, the perfect balance of flavours. Delicious isn’t enough of a word—you’re not even sure if heavenly would cut it either.

When you finally open your eyes, Jay’s watching you intently, his expression a mixture of pride and nervousness, as if he’s hanging onto every minute detail of your reactions, deciphering it. The way his gaze softens when he sees your smile makes your heart flutter. You nod your head, still savouring the taste, and find yourself at a loss for words. All you can manage is a breathless, “Holy shit.” 

Jay doesn’t relax quite yet. “Is that a good ‘holy shit’ or a bad one?” 

“Are you kidding? It’s an incredible ‘holy shit’, the best ‘holy shit’ I’ve ever uttered,” you say, eyes wide in disbelief that he could even think otherwise. 

Finally, he grins and it’s everything, his shoulders relaxing as a wave of relief seems to wash over him. You watch him, awestruck, absently stabbing at a chunk of steak. 

“I take it you like cooking then?” you ask dumbly. 

Jay nods, laughing a little. “It’s fun.” 

“It’s a lot of work.” 

“I’m not scared of hard work.” He shrugs, smile unwavering, though there’s something in his eyes that you can’t make out. “It was, like, my second ever dream—to be a chef.���

Curious, you raise an eyebrow. “What was your first dream?” 

“I—uh..” Jay’s cheeks redden as he chuckles, twirling pasta on his fork, but he doesn’t seem embarrassed. “I had wanted to sell watermelons, at first. My mum has, like, at least three years’ worth of icebreaker sheets from primary school where I wrote about wanting to be a watermelon salesman.”

You can’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand, thinking fondly of a tiny Jay with twinkling eyes and dreams of watermelons. “Why watermelons?”

“They’re my favourite,” he says simply. 

You hum in response. “When did law come into the picture?” you ask. 

Jay tilts his head, pausing to chew as he considers this. “Sort of late, honestly. I think I was.. around seventeen? I just knew I wanted to help people—so I had also thought about being a doctor, a social worker, a teacher, but I chose law. I’m not sure why, but my parents were really happy when I brought it up, so..” He trails off, taking a sip from his glass. “They’re super supportive, so it’s not like they pressured me or anything, it’s just.. they sacrificed a lot for me, and I’m their only kid, so I feel like I should give them something to be proud of.”

You pause, the food on your fork and his words hanging in the air, and you’re not really sure what to say. Jay seems to sense this, quickly adding, “But I love studying law, so it could be a lot worse.” 

Nodding, you smile at him. “And at least you’ll get to help people.” 

His smile returns. “At least I’ll get to help people.” He seems pleased with this as if realising it for the first time. A moment passes as he considers it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get biblical during our first time hanging out.” 

A soft laugh comes out of you as you sit up straighter in your seat. “If this is your version of biblical, I think I could get used to it.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” He grins. 

As the meal goes on, you can’t stop gushing over his cooking skills and Jay can’t stop beaming at you, humbly accepting your compliments as his cheeks grow redder and redder. Long after your plates are clear, the two of you stay at the table, conversation meandering through various topics, with him asking about your plans after studying Literature — which you haven’t completely finalised, and he assures you that’s okay — and the two of you discovering that your Brownie and Cub Scout troops were being run out of the same church hall. You laugh and chat, the rhythm between you only growing more and more comfortable as the night stretches on. 

Eventually, you stand up and start gathering the dishes, despite Jay’s immediate protest. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, though there’s a soft, resigned smile on his face that tells you he knows better than to try and stop you. 

“Too late,” you tease, stacking plates and taking them to the sink. 

He follows, grumbling half-heartedly about how you’re supposed to be relaxing, but you shake your head, rolling up your sleeves as you help him load the dishwasher. “You know, I’m not happy about this,” Jay mumbles, handing you another pan. His words might have held more weight if it weren’t for the playful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, sure you’re not.” You grin despite yourself as you slot the last dish into place.

With the kitchen tidied up, the two of you stay on your feet, watching each other until you reach for your glass on the counter beside you, taking a slow sip and finishing the last of your wine. 

“Top up?” he asks, raising the bottle, eyebrows quirked up.

You consider it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, please.” 

Jay nods, filling your glass before pouring himself a glass of water instead. He leans back against the counter, taking a sip, and you have to make an effort to tear your eyes off of him, looking over at the fridge instead. 

“These are so cute,” you say, gesturing towards the magnets and photos on the door. “Looks like you’ve been to some cool places.” 

He smiles, stepping closer to the fridge — closer to you — as if seeing it anew through your eyes. “Yeah, some of these are from trips with the guys. I love magnets, and Hoon basically worships his film camera, so he’s always getting pictures of us doing stupid shit—he doesn’t leave the house without it.” 

You lean in, getting a closer look, examining the photos with curiosity. It’s hard not to notice that Jay is always smiling when he sees the camera on him, a sincere grin from ear to ear no matter who he’s with or where he is. He shrugs when you point it out. 

“It’s not something I think much about. I guess I always find myself around things, or people, worth smiling about.” 

His words make your heart stutter, a warmth spreading through you that you’re sure has nothing to do with the wine. For a split second, the air around you changes, charged with something you don’t have the wits to put a finger on. So you take another sip from your glass and look up at him. “Lucky you,” you say. 

“Yeah.” Jay’s eyes find yours, a small smile curving his lips. “Lucky me.” 

At your request, he spends a while telling you the story behind some of the photos, until you somehow know the lore behind each one, and Jay asks if you want to hang out in the living room. The two of you chat mindlessly on the couch, inching towards each other little by little, and it’s not until Minjeong sends you a text asking if you’re coming home that either of you realise it’s well after midnight already. 

“Wow, it’s late,” you say, a mix of surprise and reluctance in your voice. 

Jay glances at his watch, eyebrows raising. “I guess time really does fly when you’re exchanging embarrassing stories about Jaehyun.” 

Laughing again, you stand up from the couch, getting your things together as Jay takes your long-empty glass to the kitchen. Before long, you’re getting into his car and heading home. The quiet hum of the radio is lost entirely to conversation, a grin on his face as Jay tells you he finally had time to check out How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and that it was every bit as good as you said it was that night at the bonfire.

At the bonfire—it feels like years have gone by since then. 

You were confident you remembered every last detail of the conversation you shared that night, but it’s only when Jay brings up the movie that the moment comes back to you. You hadn’t even said it was a favourite of yours — which it is — just that you bought the yellow bikini you were wearing because it reminded you of the colour of Kate Hudson’s dress in the movie. The fact that Jay took the time to watch the movie at all makes your heart skip a beat. 

Your heart has a funny way of doing that when he’s around. 

Time slips away without warning, and before you know it, the car slows to a gentle stop. You blink, slightly disoriented, to find your building right in front of you. Jay’s already unbuckling his seatbelt when you find your voice, it’s softer than you mean for it to be but insistent nonetheless, telling him he doesn’t need to walk you up. But Jay, ever so stubborn in his quiet way, is out of the car before you realise, rounding to your side and opening the door with a smile. 

“What kind of guy doesn’t walk a girl up after driving her home?” he asks, his brow knitting in a way that feels both sincere and playful as you step out. 

You tilt your head, adjusting your skirt. “You’d be surprised.” The words slip out before you can stop them. 

Jay’s frown is fleeting, a shadow that passes as quickly as it comes. He doesn’t say anything though, simply shakes his head and locks the car. The cool air of your building embraces you as you step in, the stuffy night air left outside as the door swings shut behind you. And for the first time all evening, silence stretches over you—the sounds of your apartment complex at 1 a.m. only amplified because of it. The elevator arrives with a soft chime, and Jay gestures for you to get in first. The air in the lift is different—heavier, not with discomfort but with the weight of things unspoken, words lingering on the tips of your tongues. You wonder what he’s thinking. As the doors open up on your floor, the tension finds a way to relieve itself, though the quiet follows you out. 

When you reach your door, you pause, gesturing towards it. “This is me.”

Jay’s expression shifts, a spark of playfulness behind his eyes. “No, that’s a door,” he points out, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin that quickly breaks into laughter, rich and warm. 

You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your own lips is inevitable. “You’re hilarious,” you mumble, and his laughter only grows, echoing down the hall.

As his laughter fades, his expression softens, and the two of you settle into silence again. 

“I’m really happy you texted me tonight,” Jay admits, a smile on his face as he speaks. “I’ve been going crazy in my apartment hoping you would—was starting to lose hope actually,” he continues in his typical manner. 

So earnest yet so casual, said not just for saying’s sake, but because it’s the truth—because he wants you to know. 

And in your typical manner, you are charmed, stomach turning giddily, heat rushing to your cheeks and spreading down your neck. It’s a mystery to you how you don’t melt into a puddle by his feet. You can’t help smiling, and a soft chuckle slips out of you knowing how pleased Jimin’s going to be when she finds out her prediction was correct. 

“You’ve been thinking about me?” you ask, teasing him with his words from earlier. 

They don’t have the same effect on him as they’d had on you, though. Jay only smiles, nodding. “Of course, I’ve been thinking about you.” He tucks his hands into his pockets, swaying gently on his heels, letting his eyes fall to your lips where they linger for more than a short while before meeting your eyes again. 

“Right,” you say, suddenly nervous. “Right. Well, thanks for dinner, and for bringing me home, I had a lot of fun.” 

He raises his shoulders a little, shrugging. “Anytime,” he says, and you’re sure he means it. “Thank you for coming, I had a lot of fun too.” Jay bites his bottom lip, teeth denting the plump skin. 

A beat passes, slow in a good way—the two of you just looking at each other. Waiting—though for what you aren’t sure. In your ribcage, your heart hammers so hard you almost check to see if it’s visible through your shirt. You can’t stop smiling. 

“Goodnight, Jay,” you say, finally. 

His grin deepens, two dimples coming out to bid you goodnight as well. “Goodnight, YN.” 

Even after you’ve locked the door, Jay stays exactly where you left him on your doormat for a few minutes, grinning to himself, while you watch through the peephole, grinning too. The smile on your face doesn’t fade, even as you slip off your shoes, soft steps leading you to the bathroom like you’re floating. 

Your smile is unwavering, bright and beaming while you brush your teeth, though you have to try a little more to hang onto it when you get into the shower, try to let the warmth of the evening stay with you a bit longer as you drag your exfoliating glove over your skin. He’s so sweet, you think. They were right about him. It’s hard to push the thought aside, but you try, try to replace it with the thought of that smile, those dimples. He’s just nice. The words don’t leave you, no matter how hard you scrub. 

The bathroom is thick with steam when you leave the shower, the heat of the water clinging to your skin even as you dry off. Your moisturiser is too slick between your fingers, too smooth, like it’s slipping away before you’ve fully grasped it. You sigh, rubbing it into your skin, its soft vanilla scent a comfort, finally, a comfort. 

Minjeong is laying on your bed when you get back to your room, amongst all of your plushies, a white teddy bear your dad got for you on a trip to London tucked under her arm as she scrolls on her phone. She quickly locks it upon seeing you, sitting up, a grin on her face when she asks, “How was dinner with your boyfriend?” 

The question stirs butterflies in your stomach, a smile creeping onto your own lips as you approach the bed to move your plushies, two at a time like always, to your desk. “I do not have a boyfriend,” you mutter, flustered. 

“You tanked dinner?” Her voice is soft, faux disappointment dripping from it as she sighs. “Damn, we were rooting for you.” 

Suddenly defensive, you look over your shoulder at her, your last two plushies in your hands, shaking a little. Not enough for Minjeong to notice, but enough that you feel it—a tremor of excitement, nerves maybe, you can’t tell. “I didn’t tank dinner either.” You can’t stop grinning at the thought, and there’s no point trying to school your expression as you approach the bed to get in. You peel the duvet back and Minjeong scooches off of it, helping you push it down to the end of the mattress as you lie down, facing each other. 

Eagerness and curiosity shine in her eyes as she demands, “Tell me everything.” And so, you do.

She squeals to herself, the picture of delight as she kicks her feet, covering her face with her hands. “He’s so sweet!” she yells, so loud you have to reach out and cover her mouth with your hand. “I’m ready to be quiet now,” she mumbles into your palm. You wait for a beat before freeing her, wiping your hand on your thigh as she continues, “He really likes you, are you kidding? What are you waiting for?” 

You shake your head, shutting her down immediately, shutting down your own hopes before they even have a chance to materialise again. “He’s just being nice,” you say, more for yourself than for Minjeong.

There’s no playfulness on her face anymore. “Why can’t he be nice and really like you?” No playfulness in her voice either. “Get out of your own way for once.” 

Minjeong, in her way, is being kind. You know she’s being kind. The edge in her voice not matching the sweetness in her eyes, or the gentle squeeze of your hand in hers. But her words sting all the same. 

You turn away from her, facing the wall instead. “Okay, yeah,” you say. “Goodnight.” 

Behind you, she sighs, mumbling, goodnight, as she leaves your bed, turning off your lamp on the way out. Get out of your own way for once. You squeeze your eyes shut, tightly, willing sleep to come, but instead, all you can think about is the way Jay smiled at you tonight, how he lingered at your door. Maybe Minjeong is right. It might be nice not to run away from this—from Jay, and all the what-ifs you normally don’t allow yourself.

Whether you expected it to or not, dinner at Jay’s has changed a lot for you. Your text thread with him is rarely ever not at the top of your messages app, with him inundating your phone with Spotify and YouTube links—songs he likes and songs he doesn’t, videos he thinks are interesting and videos he thinks are stupid. And whatever the case, whether you like the song or the video, the two of you find ways to discuss them for hours on end, typing quickly, accuracy and punctuation to the wind, so the conversation never dies. 

He once sent you a blurry photo of a snack he knows you like while grocery shopping with Sunghoon, and when you replied, Would give up a vital organ to trade places with you rn, he showed up at your door later, a crate of yoghurt coated banana chips in each arm. “Because they were on offer,” he told you, helping you find room for twenty-four packets of dried fruit. Knowing Jay, nice as ever, you don’t doubt he would have brought them even if they weren’t.

You’ve spent more evenings than you care to count (eleven) at his place, often sitting on the couch between him and Sunghoon, watching some of the most obscure movies you’ve ever seen, low budget horrors and religious films they found on DVD at thrift shops around town. Some nights, when Sunghoon isn’t around, the two of you talk for hours on that couch, your head on his shoulder, his arm around yours. You share secrets like this, parts of yourselves that now only the two of you know about and don’t bring up again. 

Jay brings the boys to your and Minjeong’s flat whenever all your friends are over, and the two of you spend hours alone in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, sharing pizza and bottles of beer when you’re too lazy to stand up and get your own. 

It’s easy to read into the moments you spend like this, analysing them in bed before you fall asleep, hours after everyone’s left and gone home—wondering if Jay meant to hug you for longer than he hugged Minjeong, if he’s actually staring at you when he thinks you can’t see or if he’s just zoning out in your general direction. Your sleep-fogged brain always struggles to settle on a conclusion. Each morning though, while you brush your teeth, it’s hard not to think about everything you’re always hearing about him. Hard not to think of Jeno and his response to your stories, voice heavy with sleep through the phone as he says, yeah that sounds like Jay, or, we’re not all saying he’s nice just for fun, you know. Rational thinking, as always, smacks your cheek with its big, rough palm. Jay has been nice to you, of course, he has, but Jay is just a nice guy, the nicest if you ask literally anyone who’s ever even breathed near him. You spit toothpaste into the sink, blue foam on white ceramic, and sigh, suddenly tired again. 

Even with all the time you’ve been spending together, there are still nights like this—nights where you find yourself alone in the apartment, the quiet settling in like a comfortable weight. Minjeong’s spending the night at Jimin’s, but it’s not so bad, you’ve got snacks. You’ve got the leftover rice and bulgogi Minjeong made for dinner last night, and a chilled can of Guinness to keep you company. Initially, you thought you might start one of the shows on your growing watchlist, but you find yourself scrolling through your continue watching, on the hunt for Modern Family and beam with delight when you find it. 

You make it through two episodes and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps when your phone lights up next to you on the couch. It’s a text from Jay, and then another. 

Jay: Are you coming to Seunghan’s?

Jay: I don’t see any of your crew here or what but idk

A smile stretches over your lips, a giggle threatening to come out as you read the messages and read them again, wishing there was something you could do to lift the ban from Seunghan’s place, get ready, and teleport over there as quickly as possible. You wonder, though briefly, how serious Seunghan was, and if he even knew you were friends with Donghyuck—after all, he was the only one mentioned by name, and ‘your group’ could be in reference to anyone. 

You: Lmaooo I didn’t even know he was hosting tn.. 

You: Hyuck got us all barred haha so no Seunghan’s for us tonight, or ever?

Jay: Noooo that sucks

Jay: What’s your moves tn then?

You: Idk MJ’s not here so sleep soon ig

For a while, you watch the screen as your phone shows you that he’s typing, but he stops quickly before starting again, the dancing ellipses moving for at least ten seconds before they disappear again. Showing up for a split second and leaving, your text going unanswered. Locking your phone, you hit play on the TV and try to think away your disappointment at being left on read. Two whole episodes start and finish before your phone goes off again. Jay, again. 

Jay: Gonna miss you tonight :( 

You: Me too lmao

Jay: Lmao.. damn 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢? 

You grin at the message, not bothering to keep your giggles to yourself as you type back. 

You: I meant me toooo !!!!!!! /srs 

Jay: 😸😸😸

You can’t help but think the grinning cat emoji looks like him as you put your phone down, focusing on the TV until your eyes get heavy. Knowing you’ll hate yourself if you leave your dishes in the sink, you force yourself to do the washing up now, even as you struggle to keep your eyes open. It doesn’t take too long, thankfully, and you’re drying your hands off, flicking off the kitchen light before you know it.

The knock at the door echoes through the empty flat, interrupting the soft hum of your solitude. Anxiety stirs a pit in your stomach, wondering who could possibly be here at this time, though the thought of your friends calms you down—Aeri is often more likely to come to your house unannounced after midnight than during the day. But she’s not the one standing at the door when you open it. 

For a beat, you can only stare, stunned. “Jay?” 

Your heart stumbles at the sight of him, swaying a little like he’s caught in some invisible tide. His hair is ruffled, cheeks flushed red, lips pulled up into a lopsided smile. All of a sudden, you feel startlingly awake.

“Hey,” he says, smile faltering. “It’s weird that I’m here, right?” His words are soft around the edges, beginnings and endings melting into each other. 

You want to tell him that it isn’t, that him being here feels like the most natural thing in the world. But you don’t, only shaking your head, which seems to be enough for Jay, brings his smile back. 

He bites on his bottom lip but it doesn’t stop his grin. “I just wanted to see you tonight,” he admits, and the words come out so simple, like there’s nothing more to explain. He just wanted to see you. Like it’s that easy. 

There’s no one else in the hall when you look out, head turning in both directions. “How did you get here?” you ask, voice too calm for how fast your heart is racing.

He shrugs like the answer is obvious. “I walked.” 

“From Seunghan’s?” Your voice spikes, disbelief pouring out of every syllable as you try to remember the distance. Hong Seunghan lives thirty minutes away by car. Your eyes widen, heart stumbling all over again. “How long did that take?”

Jay blinks slowly. “I left right after I sent you those emojis, and you left me on read. Thanks for that by the way.” His words are tumbling out now. “Twenty minutes? Maybe? I don’t remember.”

You stare at him, heart twisting in a way you weren’t expecting. He stumbles a little and you can’t bear it anymore. “You sent that text an hour ago, Jay. Get inside,” you say, reaching out to grab him and pull him inside. 

With your hands loosely wrapped around his arm, you guide him through the dim hallway. He trudges against the hardwood, a slow shuffle like each step is an effort, but his eyes are wide, alive, drinking in everything around him like he’s never been in your flat before. When you open the door to your room, he stops in his tracks, blinking at the sight. 

“Whoa,” he whispers, like it’s sacred. His eyes sweep over the room, taking in every detail, from the pictures on the wall to the clutter on your dresser, until they land on you. “Your bedroom,” he says, awestruck, like it’s the most important room in the world, and the thought makes your heart stutter.

It’s impossible to ignore the fluttering in your chest. You tell yourself it’s just the nerves of having a new person in your room, seeing such a personal part of you. This makes you even, you suppose, thinking of all the time you’ve spent together in his room. Still, the nervousness persists.

“I’ll get you some water,” you offer, turning quickly, desperate for a few seconds away from his gaze. 

But as soon as you step toward the door, Jay moves too, like he’s not letting you go alone. “I’ll come with you.” 

Sleepiness sets into your bones all at once, and you don’t have it in you to keep him upright again. You shake your head. “Stay here. I’ll be quick.” 

On your bedside table, you place a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol, already picturing him needing them in the morning, all while he sits on the edge of your bed, hands tucked under his thighs, eyes on the floor. You move around him, taking your plushies off the bed and leaving them on your desk. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he says suddenly. “I can’t just show up here and kick you out of your own bed.” 

Your back is turned, fingers curling around the last plushie when you answer absentmindedly. “I thought we could just sleep together.” It takes a heartbeat too long for you to process what you said. Your hand freezes, plushie half in the air as the words settle over the room. You whip your head around, eyes wide. “I mean share the bed! Just sleep in the same bed.. at the same time.” The backpedalling feels ridiculous, but you can’t stop it, cheeks burning furiously. 

Jay’s looking at you with a smile that’s half amused and half.. something you don’t quite recognise. “Right, YN. Sure.” He nods, the teasing lacing his voice so thick it sends a jolt of warmth through you, even as you try to untangle your embarrassment. 

“I’m serious,” you say, trying to regain some kind of footing. “I share the bed with my friends all the time, of course we can share.” 

For a second, so fleeting you barely catch it — like you imagined it — his smile falters. “Right,” he says again after a beat, softer this time, playful tone gone, giving way to something quieter, colder, you think. 

The temperature dips in your room, the spark gone, blown out like a candle as you get into bed, mattress sinking beside you when Jay gets in too. You feel every shift of his body, every inch of space keeping you apart. He yawns after a while, the sound breaking through the heavy silence, and relief washes over you when you hear the smile that colours his voice. “Do you cuddle with your friends too?” 

Again, your heart stumbles over yourself, the question heating your skin. You swallow, pulse loud in your ears. “I, uh.. I do, actually.” Your voice is smaller than you expect, your throat tight. 

Jay doesn’t move though, lying there completely still on his back, the same as you. His breath hitches when you shift, letting your head rest on his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt on your skin, the familiar warmth of his scent tickling your nose. With the way your heart is racing, you don’t trust your voice, so you whisper instead. “Is this okay?”

He hums in response, his arm draping over your waist, fingers brushing against the small sliver of skin exposed by your top. “Is this okay?” he whispers back, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You nod, humming. Jay’s lips spread in an audible smile, his hand squeezing your waist gently and that’s when you feel it—the strike of a match, a candle lit, heat turning over in your stomach as you fall asleep, wrapped up in the comfort of each other.

When you wake up in the morning, with the happy sun beaming through your window, you are alone—nothing left to prove Jay was even here but the smell of him on your sheets and the ring of water on your nightstand where his glass had been.

Yizhuo’s AC is fixed, finally, which the group has, justifiably, deemed cause for celebration. Less justifiable, perhaps, is the fact that you and Minjeong are the ones hosting. Again. Being the guest of honour, Yizhuo is the first to arrive, greeting you and Minjeong with a kiss on the cheek before crouching to untie her shoes by the door. 

“I couldn’t get Red Bull,” she grumbles, pushing her hair from her face. “Not for lack of trying.” 

Minjeong makes her way to the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder, “What do you mean you couldn’t?” 

“I forgot my ID at home!” Yizhuo yells, voice loud in your ear as she stands up, stretching her arms out as she yawns. “I’m giving fifteen-year-old today, I guess.” Looking at her now, with her hair falling out of the bun on top of her head, framing her face, stuck with sweat to her skin, she does look awfully young. 

You pinch her cheek. “Sweet, baby Yizhuo,” you coo, endeared by her. 

She rolls her eyes though makes no attempt to free herself from your grip. “We’re the same age.” 

“And I don’t get ID’d when I buy Red Bull,” you point out, grinning at the lack of amusement on her face. “We might have a can or two in the fridge though.” 

Yizhuo brightens up immediately, heading off to the kitchen to join Minjeong. You follow. But you don’t get very far before you hear Aeri’s laughter echoing in the corridor, a firm knock following it—she’s with Jeno and Jaemin, laughing even as she hugs you, not stopping when all six of you are sitting in the living room. 

“Surprised we beat Jaehyun here,” Jeno says, looking around as if Jaehyun might pop out from behind a piece of furniture or something. “He’s usually camped out by the door two days before the party.” 

Aeri leans into him, still laughing, laughing more. “Referring to an exam as a party is crazy work, Jen.” 

This makes Jeno crease his brows, giving her a look, laughing too. “Surely standing outside the exam hall for four hours, on the wrong day, is also, objectively, crazy work.” 

You can’t help the laugh that comes through your nose as you lean further back in your seat, and take a sip from your cup. You shake your head, poor Jaehyun. Minjeong’s phone goes off next to you, and she launches off the arm of the couch and to the front door, before Jimin even has a chance to knock. You can hear them in the hall, laughing, chatting, voices just lost to rumbling of Yizhuo’s new speaker against your floor, PinkPantheress’ new single rushing out of it into the room, as the two girls come back, Jaehyun and Donghyuck following close behind. 

Together, you share drinks and stories and laughter, so much laughter, an hour passing by quite quickly like this. And yet, they’re missing, still, all four of them—Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay are missing. Their absence, Jay’s mostly, looms in the periphery of your mind, inching towards the forefront, slowly but surely. You take the last sip of your cider, cool and fizzy and delicious, but it does nothing to quiet your thoughts. Even if it weren’t for your liking Jay, you would be lying if you said they haven’t all been a welcome addition to the group — your group — that has held fast through three years of university, staunchly resisting any newcomers until now. And the end of last year when Jimin started dating Minjeong. The boys fit in like they’ve been here all along, a seamless transition, easy. Until now, when their absence is so glaringly obvious, to you, at least.  

Jeno, perhaps sensing your unease, comes in from the kitchen, leaning in the doorway with a smile as he asks if the other guys are coming. The question isn’t directed at anyone in particular, but all eyes flick towards you—like you’re Jay’s personal spokesperson. You shrug, you don’t know either. “Maybe they haven’t checked the chat yet,” you offer, shrugging again in an attempt to feign calmness, to make it look like you’re not still trying to work out whether Jay’s lack of response has annoyed you, or made you anxious, or a bit upset.

Everyone nods and moves on, satisfied. Except for Minjeong, who lingers, her brows furrowing when you catch her eye. But she’s distracted a second later by Jimin’s lips on her cheek, and you take that moment to breathe, to relax. 

It doesn’t work. 

You follow Jeno back into the kitchen, looping your arm through Aeri’s as you reach into the fridge for another drink. She leans in as you open the can, her voice quiet in your ear when she says, “They’re definitely coming.” 

She’s smiling when you look at her, playing with your bracelet, but there’s a knock at the front door before you get to quiz her on it, and her lips spread into a grin as she nudges you out of the room. The door opens easily when you try the handle, and there he is. 

Jay. 

With his friends. 

He looks incredible, of course. Better somehow, his good looks amplified by his absence, you think—as they are wont to do. The freckles dotted around his left eye stand out especially, pretty like a constellation. You know from stalking his Instagram that they stick around through all four seasons, unlike the ones dotting the centre of his face, arms, and back sporadically, tiny kisses from the summer sun. He’s in a white vest and loose pants, nothing special though enough to take your breath away, arms buff, as ever, even while he’s just standing there. You shouldn’t be as surprised to see him as you are, you invited him, personally, after all. It’s just that, he didn’t exactly text you back last night when you did, or.. at all, since he left the flat last week. Heat, stupid, traitorous, creeps up the back of your neck, air knocked out of you to make space for something else, something tickly and warm, heart stuttering in your chest and you can’t tell if it’s gearing up to race ahead or stop entirely—for better or for worse, it does the former. His lips are set apart a little, slightly ajar, eyes wide, like he wasn’t expecting you to be the one to answer the door to your own place, like he wasn’t expecting to find you here at all. 

It’s Jake who breaks the silence, stepping into the apartment with an extended, hey, and a big hug for you as always, with Heeseung and Sunghoon following suit, bright beams on their faces while Jay stands there, on your doorstep, again, still as a photograph, a moment caught in time, the past. 

“It’s okay that we’re here, right?” he finally asks, voice a little tight. “That I’m here?” 

You smile but it’s just as stiff as you feel. “I invited you, didn’t I?”

Jay presses his lips into a straight line, observing you for a moment longer before nodding his head and stepping inside. He leaves his shoes by the door and joins everyone else in the living room.

The evening stretches out before you, voices rising and falling, slipping under the music as Yizhuo’s new speaker makes the floorboards vibrate. You’re sitting at the table with Jaehyun and Jake, half-listening to their conversation about.. You’re sitting at the table with Jaehyun and Jake, their conversation lost on you, background noise as far as you’re concerned. Even if you don’t have any of his, Jay has your full attention. He’s on the other side of the room, sitting on the couch next to Yizhuo, his hand wrapped around a bottle of beer and his head tilted back, laughing at something she said. You can hear it over the music, warm and infectious and genuine. 

You shift in your seat a little, crossing one leg over the other as you take a long swig from your can. Minjeong joins you, pulling a chair behind yours and resting her chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around you—you ease up immediately. And right when you’re about to turn away, Jay looks at you. Finally. It’s only now, after its absence, that you realise how much you’ve missed that smile of his, the quirk of his lips, his deep, asymmetrical smile lines, his dimples, and perfect straight teeth. But he just looks, expression neutral and unchanging like he’s looking beyond you, through you, and then—nothing. He’s back to laughing with Yizhuo and Jeno like it’s no big deal, like your relationship, everything you’ve built up this summer, is no big deal.

“Bathroom,” Minjeong whispers in your ear, yanking you out of your chair before you have a chance to protest, and dragging you down the hall where she flicks on the extractor fan and shuts the door with a dull click that seems to mute everything on the other side of it. The bathroom light is harsher than you’ve ever realised, stark and abrasive on your eyes compared to the ambience of the living room and the rest of the flat. You’ll need to swap it with a softer bulb, a warmer one, maybe Jeno can help you change it. 

“What happened with you two?”

She’s being gentle, but her voice, the question still stings a little. You blink at her, cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling like a scolded child, and even more so when she brushes your hair behind your ears with her hands, soft, sweet, Minjeong. Unsure how to answer, you shrug, chewing on your lip.

“Did he do something?” 

You shake your head, mumbling the word, no, and hating the way her face shifts, a furrow in her brow before she sighs, pulling you in. The sudden pressure of her arms around you is unexpected but welcome. She’s hugging you tightly, the scent of her perfume, clean, light, jasmine, enveloping you, a familiar comfort as she strokes your hair. 

“It’s only me,” she mumbles into your shoulder, as if reminding you. “You can tell me if he did something.” 

The words melt into you, loosening something in your chest that you didn’t realise had been knotted so tightly. You laugh, dry, humourless, shaking your head. It takes a bit, but you manage to ease your way out of her hold, eyeing her for a moment, catching the concern written all over her face. 

“He didn’t,” you say after a while. “It was my fault, I don’t know why I let him spend the night.” 

Minjeong’s head snaps up, eyes wide, nearly bugging out of her head. “Why you let him what?” The words escape her in a burst, loud enough to make you flinch. She clamps her hand over her mouth, and you can’t help but laugh.

“He went to Seunghan’s last week, but left to come over here,” you explain vaguely, scratching at your thigh. “It was late, and he didn’t have a way home, so I told him he could sleep over.”

Her hand is still over her mouth, but you can see her brain whirring, processing this new piece of information. When she finally lowers her hand, her face is a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, maybe even a little irritation. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

You don’t have a real answer, and Minjeong knows that. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, the way she always does when she’s trying to keep her frustration in check. “So what happened?” she asks, and her voice is softer now, but more intense—like she’s ready to solve this mystery whether you like it or not. “How was he acting? What did he say? What did you say?” 

Playing with the hem of your shorts, you hesitate before finally giving in. The story spills out of you like water from a faucet, the night replaying in your mind as you speak, a smile on your lips as you get wrapped up in details like the little pout on his lips when you left to go get water, and how his calloused fingers felt on your skin. Minjeong squeals and grins at all the right parts, a dreamy look in her eyes until you reach the end, when she snaps out of her trance and looks at you like you’re stupid. 

“Are you, like, chronically stupid or something?” 

Oh, you think, frowning.

“Use your brain!” she yells, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Why on earth would you choose that moment to lament on friendship? Jay was in your bed — your dream guy, in your bed — and you called him your friend?” 

“Newsflash, MJ, he is my friend!” you say defensively, cheeks burning as you do your best to ignore the ache in your chest at having to call him that. “And I didn’t even really call him my friend. I meant it in a ‘I’ve shared the bed with Jeno and Jaem a million times and they’re just my friends, of course I’d share the bed with you’ sort of way.” 

Minjeong takes a step back, her face twisting in horror. “You brought up Jaemin?” 

“No! Jesus, I’m not that stupid.” 

Her brow raises, unconvinced. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Hey!” you shout, smacking her on the arm. She smacks you right back, and the sting of it snaps you out of your self-pity for a moment, as you mumble, “Ouch.” A small smile creeps over your lips as you rub your arm, and Minjeong catches it, her eyes softening. 

“You two need to talk,” she says firmly, her voice quieter now. She gives you a look — a mixture of exasperation and affection — right when someone knocks on the door. Minjeong looks over her shoulder at it before gripping the handle. One last look at you, stern this time. “If you don’t talk to him soon, YN, I swear, I’ll do it for you.” 

Jay texts you back as soon as you hit send, like he’d been waiting for another chance to turn you down — Yoooo that’d be so fire.. I’m out w Hoon tn but another time for sure, YN! — and it’s the seventh time he’s turned you down via text message in two weeks. 

You’ve never known him to be so popular. If it’s not Sunghoon, it’s Heeseung, or it’s Jake—or some combination of those three. If not them, it’s the guys from his Law cohort, and if not them, he’s with Jaemin, of all people. You, it seems, aren’t even worth a single night. His bro-speak comes in several painful degrees, with Monday’s message being the most violent offence. A text composed of eighty-two characters—a whopping four of them used to call you dude. Each word, a carefully crafted brick in the wall between you and the Jay you thought you knew. The Jay who drove one of the first years thirty miles home after football training because he forgot his wallet on the bus. The Jay you’ve spent the whole summer falling for. 

Being left on read would be less insulting. 

In your clenched fist, your phone — rigid, metal — starts hurting your fingers, a red imprint on your palm when you put it on your lap. As you inspect the indents in your skin, a lightbulb turns on in your head, glowing with an idea that’s either genius or unhinged. Spurred on by irritation, your fingers hover over the keys, thumb pressing send before you have a chance to change your mind. 

You: Hey Hoon, are you with Jay?

There’s a moment — a brief, anxiety-induced moment — where you consider deleting the message. But your phone goes off with a jarring ding, the screen lighting up to show you Sunghoon’s reply. 

Nah, Jay was too busy being a loser in his room to come out tn 👎

The revelation, the truth, turns your stomach, but you can’t help but laugh at Sunghoon’s next message, a belated attempt at loyalty for his best friend. 

Unless he said he’s w me, then yeah he’s at the bar rn getting drinks.

Without a second thought, you stand up from the couch, tugging your shoes on with one hand and grabbing your keys with the other before storming out. The bus is late, of course, but you’re not sure how much that matters. You sit in the hot silence of the night, anger filling the space where music normally is. Off the bus, down the winding path, and through the door to Jay’s building that a kind elderly woman holds open for you. The elevator trudges up the shaft, every jolt a reminder of why you’re here—because he’s avoiding you, and doesn’t have the decency to tell you the truth, or at least coordinate stories with his friend. When you finally knock on Jay’s door, it’s like pushing the last domino in a row. 

This door swings open, and Jay’s standing in front of you, bags under his wide eyes, surprise, and maybe guilt coating your name when he says it. He sounds confused, voice soft—a far cry from the nonchalant texts he’s been sending you. Unfortunately, the sight of him blinking sleepily at you crumbles your resolve instantly—all irritation slipping away into nothing but pure concern. “Come,” you say quietly. “Let’s go eat.” 

As if in a daze, Jay only nods, taking the key out of the door and stepping out in his sliders. 

Silence follows the two of you out of his building and all the way down the street, interrupted only by the scuffing of his shoes against the pavement. Around you, the stuffy evening air swallows up any words that might have been spoken. Then the smell of food hits, tteokbokki you think, wafting from the open door of a restaurant you’ve never been to, sharp and spicy, tempting under your nose, enough to make you stop in your tracks. Jay stops too, following you inside. 

You find a table near the window, bright sunlight shining in through the glass, warming your skin. Behind you, Jay lingers, hanging back as if he’s waiting for your permission to sit, to relax—he doesn’t though, shoulders stiff as he sits in the seat across from you. Before you know it, he’s up from his chair, already at the drinks fridge in the corner, scanning the shelves like he has a goal in mind. There’s no time to tell him what you want to drink because when you think of it, he’s already pulling the can from the shelf, lip caught between his teeth as he browses for himself. The waitress comes while he’s away, a too-bright smile plastered on her face as you order ramen for both of you and tteokbokki to share. When Jay sits back down, it’s with your drink in hand, cracking it open without a word and setting it down in front of you. You mumble your thanks but don’t take a sip, hands in your lap playing with the hem of your shorts. He doesn’t reply, staring at his own hands on the table, fingers tapping once, twice, before his gaze lifts to meet yours, lips parting to speak. 

You don’t give him a chance, cutting in. “We can talk later, Jay. Let’s just eat for now.” The words slip out, your voice quieter than you expected.

He tilts his head, the softness in his eyes catching you off guard. He says your name with a weight in his voice that makes you pause, uttering a quiet, what? in response.

“I’m sorry I lied to you tonight.”

It’s the way he says it — plain, simple, not dressed up to hide anything — that makes your chest tighten. You shake your head like he’s being silly, though you appreciate the apology nonetheless. “It’s okay,” you tell him, meaning it. He seems to know you’re being sincere.

Your food is piping hot when it reaches the table, steam heating your cheeks. Jay doesn’t seem to mind though, digging in immediately, not even stopping to blow on his ramen before eating it. His hands are quick, chopsticks moving from bowl to mouth in a blur as he nods appreciatively. You don’t even realise you’re staring until his eyes flick up to yours, straightening up a little and dabbing at his broth-red lips with a napkin. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, clearing his throat.

Without words, you stab at a cheese-covered rice cake and enjoy the tangy spice on your tongue. The sound of slurping ramen fills the air between you, but it’s not awkward, not really. Just.. quiet. And you don’t bother asking if he’s eaten yet because you can tell he hasn’t, because you know he’ll shrug it off. So instead, you start eating too, trying to match his rhythm but never quite catching up.

When your bowls are cleared and your stomachs are full, both of you rise from your seats at the same time. Jay steps towards the till first, hand already halfway into his pocket, but you stop him, hand wrapping around his wrist like a reflex. 

“I’m paying,” you say firmly, reaching for your phone. 

“YN—” He starts, but you cut him off with a shake of your head, not wanting the back and forth that always comes with dining out. 

“Don’t argue with me, Jay.” Your voice is soft but edged with a finality that makes him stop. 

This is normally the part of the night where he’d insist, eyes twinkling with challenge—but there is nothing normal about tonight. He nods, a tired smile flickering across his lips for a beat before it fades. At the till, the worker taps the total into the machine and you pay in one smooth motion, not letting Jay get close enough to protest in case he changes his mind. He watches, not saying anything as he slips his hands into his pockets, waiting for you like always. Once more, silence follows you out, walking between you like a third person joining you on the way back to his place. The air is cooler now, a breeze biting in place of the now-set sun, enough to make you wrap your arms around yourself as you walk.

“I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly, right when his building comes into view. 

For a second, you consider arguing, telling him you’ll take the bus, but you know it’s pointless. He is — for the first time in two weeks — being the Jay you’ve always known, albeit saying much less, who looks out for you even when you don’t ask him to. 

“Okay,” you mumble.

The silence doesn’t stop when you get into the car either, sitting like a passenger amongst you both, stifled only by the engine’s low hum that occupies the empty spaces you two typically fill up with conversation. Jay glances over at you every so often, his gaze clear in your peripheral as you look straight out the windscreen at the street. The quiet remains even when he pulls up to your flat. You unbuckle your seatbelt, not looking at him when you thank him or even when you hear his door opening. Again, he trails behind you. Jay’s demeanour, his quietness and distance, put a guilty pit in your stomach—you’d wanted to yell at him, chew him out when you left this evening, but now, in the silence of the elevator, all you want to do is give him a hug and stroke his back, let him cry into your shoulder—God knows it looks like he needs it. 

As you near your door, you’re not sure what to say, even as you’re turning your key in the lock and stepping inside, words escape you. Jay’s still standing on the doormat, looking down at his feet when you turn around. You stand in the open doorway, hand gripping the frame like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the moment. He’s close enough to touch but somehow miles away on his side of the door—just outside, hands in his pockets, not crossing the threshold. Not quite in your world yet.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask, for lack of anything better to say, straightening up and pointing over your shoulder as if he wouldn’t know what you meant. 

Jay shakes his head, and his voice is too loud and too quiet all at once. “I should get going. Thanks, though, for tonight.”

A sigh claws its way out from your chest, heavy exasperation coming out in the sound. “Why are you mad at me?” you demand, petulant like a child about to stomp her feet.

“Mad at you?” he repeats as if you’ve brought up a novel concept, confusion running along his knitted brows. “I’m not mad at you, YN.”

“Then..” You trail off—you’d been so sure of it, so fixated on the existence of his annoyance that you can’t help but be surprised by his denial of it and how quickly you believe him. “Well, then.. Why are you avoiding me?” 

His lips twitch, parting to speak, but you cut him off, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “And don’t say you’re not avoiding me, because I know you are.”

It’s Jay’s turn to sigh, heavily, like the weight of his own words is too much for him to bear. His hand wraps around your pointing finger, his touch sending a jolt through you as he lowers it. 

“I wasn’t going to say that, I don’t want to lie to you,” he says softly, gaze struggling to meet yours before falling to the floor. “It wasn’t going to be forever, I just needed to figure some shit out.”

Again, you’re taken aback by his words—you hadn’t been expecting him to confirm that he’d been avoiding you either. At least not so quickly. “Figure what out?” 

Jay shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and you only realise that he’d been holding onto your finger this whole time when he lets go of it, hands finding their way back into his pockets. More hesitation follows. A pit forms in your stomach as the silence stretches. “We have a good thing going, a solid friendship. I didn’t want to ruin it,” he says finally. 

Friendship. 

If it weren’t for the tightness in your throat or the way the door frame seems to be shrinking around you, you might have had it in you to laugh at how much the truth is hurting your feelings. You are friends with Jay, you’ve only ever been friends with Jay. So, why your chest is starting to hurt over this is beyond you. “Ruin it?” you ask finally, voice a mere whisper.

Jay’s eyes flick back up to meet yours, something behind them so warm it quiets your thoughts and twists your heart all at once. “It wouldn’t be fair if I kept making moves on a girl who’s clearly not interested. I mean, it might take me a while, but I can take a hint, you know?” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, his voice softer when he continues. “I didn’t want to ruin things between us because I caught feelings and you didn’t.” 

His words, his confession, hang in the air between you, looming like a cloud that doesn’t quite know where to settle. Off-kilter. Everything is off-kilter—the corridor of your apartment building warps and skews as if you’re on the other side of a portal to an alternate dimension. Only he remains static, steady. Jay is steady. 

“You caught feelings for me?” you ask. “You like me?” Your voice doesn’t even sound like you—muffled, distant, like it belongs to someone else. The question floats between you, and you half-expect him to take it back, but instead, he nods. 

His lips tug into that same lopsided smile you’ve come to love so much—sheepish yet unashamed. “Of course, I like you. Couldn’t you tell?” He’s never sounded so gentle, helping you put together a puzzle you should have solved already. “I’ve been begging your friends all summer to let me crash your hangouts, getting into pools I had no business getting into—fuck, I even took advice from Jaemin, of all people.” 

You blink at him, stunned by what you’re hearing, his words echoing in your mind as you try to make sense of what he’s saying, to work out where everything went wrong. Suddenly, the last seven weeks of your life hit you in a starkly different light—the fact he kept appearing but never seemed surprised to see you, how he never seemed to mind watching whatever movie you mentioned, reading the books you’ve read, how he’d always look at you with the world’s affection in his eyes. He couldn’t have been less subtle if he’d been wearing a shirt that said I have feelings for you, YN!—honestly, you think he may as well have been wearing one. How didn’t you see it? It seems so obvious now that you know. 

“You asked Jaemin for advice?” It’s not the follow-up question you’d been hoping to ask, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about it.

Jay nods, laughing, and you can’t help but laugh too, more from disbelief than anything else. He runs a hand through his hair, so effortless yet still somehow looking like he’s stepped off the cover of a magazine. “Yeah, I know. Desperate times, and all that.”

Finally, the question you meant to ask makes its way out, but your voice is smaller than you expect it to be. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

His smile falters, eyes locked on yours as he chews his lip. “Because I didn’t want to hear you say no.”

“Jay,” you whisper, shaking your head. “How could I ever say no to you?” 

He takes a step back, more maddening distance between you—you don’t know why he won’t cross the line, why he won’t come in. “Are you saying you like me?” he asks, voice so soft you barely hear him.

“I am.” You nod, heart pounding, pulse loud in your ears. “I like you a lot.”

At this, his jaw drops—the only movement he makes for a beat. His expression quickly softens, the uncertainty in his eyes giving way to warmth. A sheepish smile quirks at his lips. “You mean it?” 

You nod, grinning at him, giggling when he repeats it to himself, you like me, his relief showing itself through a soft sigh, and he beams at you when you question him. “You really didn’t know?” 

“I knew, like, basically the whole time, sort of,” he admits, scratching at the back of his neck. “It was only when you called me your friend that night in your room that I thought I should, like.. kill myself or something.” 

Just the mention of that night is enough to make you cringe, hands coming up to cover your face as you laugh at your own obliviousness. It’s not until you hear the ding of the elevator arriving at your floor that you remember you and Jay aren’t the only two left in the world, that you’ve been standing in your doorway this whole time. As the doors whoosh open, you look up at him, and he’s looking at you with that same soft gaze you recognise but can’t name—the one that says he’s right here and he’s been here all along.

Half-grinning, half-wondering if any of this is real, you lean against the doorframe, eyes stuck on his. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask for the second time.

Jay glances at his watch, his eyes widening when he sees the time. “I really do need to get going,” he says, hesitation in his voice like he doesn’t want to leave yet, like he’s not ready to—you’re not either, the thought of another night without him, knowing what you know now, pulls your lips into a frown. His eyes follow the movement, stuck on your mouth for a beat before he frowns too, as if he’s already regretting the words. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, the word slipping out naturally like it’s been on the tip of his tongue this whole time. Then his eyes widen again, panic flashing across his face. “Wait, sorry—can I call you that? Is that okay?” 

“Baby,” you repeat, letting the word unravel in your mouth, savouring its sweetness like candy on your tongue. It echoes in your brain, itching it the right way as you nod, unsure how better to express yourself. “That’s good, I like it,” you add eventually, smiling to yourself as if the pet name was one he’d made up on the spot with you in mind.

The grin on your face feels too wide, stretched from ear to ear and aching just a bit. You can’t help it though, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to hold your face in any other way. Jay’s wearing one to match as he pulls you into his chest, his arms solid and warm around you, hands big on your waist, letting you melt into him. His shirt is soft against your cheek, his scent clinging to it—warm and sweet and good. He’s still beaming when you look up at him. 

“Goodnight, Jay,” you whisper, reflexively, not because you want him to go. 

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers back, and his voice is so soft, so fond, your heart flutters like it’s grown wings. 

It doesn’t help that hearing that word from him is driving you crazy, making you dizzy—like it’s a key to a door you didn’t realise was locked. All this time, you’ve been holding your breath, suffering quietly under the weight of your feelings for him. Being here now with him, like this, you feel like you can finally breathe—like you’re safe here, with Jay.

You want to kiss him, need to. Not so much a thought as it is a pull, a magnetic force tugging your gaze to his lips and you can’t look away, wondering what they’d feel like, willing him to be the one to let you find out.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says suddenly, following the script in your head perfectly, lips so close to yours that the words spill out onto your skin, so close it’s like you’re the one who said it. “Can I do that? Please?” 

There’s something — to you — so surreal, so dreamlike about this situation that you’re overwhelmed by your distance from the realm of things you thought possible even thirty minutes ago. In your chest, your heart trips over itself, your body betraying you with its need. You nod belatedly, not trusting yourself to speak. Before you can even take a breath, his lips touch yours, soft, tentative at first, each brush of his lips against yours sweeter than the last, tender in a way you wish you could bottle up and keep forever. But then, something shifts, his grip on your waist tightening, the kiss deepening, his tongue on yours, and suddenly everything clicks into place—a kiss that feels more like an unravelling than a beginning. Your stomach is doing flips, and Jay is laughing into the kiss — joy incarnate — happy breaths passed from him to you, making you giggle as well. Of course, Jay would kiss you like this, all giddy and earnest.

When he pulls away, he lets his forehead rest against yours and pecks your lips—seeming relieved like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. You’re breathless, but you don’t let him get too far, chasing after his kisses, even when he smiles. With his lips on yours, Jay’s having second thoughts, mumbling, “I guess I could stay for a little while.” The words slip from his mouth straight into yours as he steps inside. 

Finally. 

You only separate out of necessity to lock the door behind you, kicking your shoes off while you’re at it, but he’s still there — hands glued to your waist like it’s where they’re meant to be, where they belong — waiting for your attention again. You aim for the hook, but the keys miss it, hitting the floor with a soft clatter, forgotten about. They aren’t important to you, not now. And neither is the way you’re tripping over your feet trying to lead him through your apartment—how could it be when his face is in your hands, when his lips are on yours and you don’t want to part again even for a second? 

The same can’t be said for Jay who doesn’t miss a beat, grip tightening on your waist, lifting you before your feet even register leaving the ground, and you wrap your legs around him without a second thought. He feels his way through the hall, free hand thudding against the walls and the edges of things, the sound making you laugh into the kiss—drunk on the moment, on him, until the bed catches him with you in his lap. 

You can feel him underneath you, hard, throbbing, through his sweatpants, you can’t resist grinding down on him, a sigh passing from your mouth into his. You want so desperately to sleep with him. His fingers dig into your hips—a low groan when you rut against him again. It’s a personal offence when he pulls away to catch his breath, but when you open your eyes and see the state of him, you quickly forget why. Kiss-plump lips all red and glossy with saliva, head tipped back, brown eyes blinking heavily, dark with lust. 

The accumulation of weeks passed, quietly longing, wanting this exact thing, manifests itself in burning impatience. Unbridled want clenching around your stomach, urging your hips back and forth before you can think twice about it. His face, gorgeous as ever, twists with pleasure. A scrunch along the straight bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut, lips parting, a breathy grunt punched out of him as his hips buck up against you. Now that you’ve seen that face, been the reason for that face, you can’t get enough. Your hand slips under his shirt, his stomach firm under your palm, trembling as a shudder racks through him. The hair under his belly button soft under your fingers, leading you all the way to his waistband. His lidded eyes are stuck on your hands, lips wet, tempting. You tell him you want to touch him, asking if you can. He nods slowly, moving his lips to mumble the word, please. Your hand disappears under his sweats, his underwear, and he pulls air through his teeth, quickly expelling it in a jagged sigh. He is hot and thick in your palm, so.. big, it doesn’t even feel real, him or the moment—to hold him like this, have him under you like this, sharp breaths tugged out of him as you stroke him, slow, experimental almost. His tip is slick with precum, your thumb slipping over it, over his slit right as he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

Nervous, not wanting to go too far, you ask, “You don’t want it?” 

Jay lifts his head, looking at you like you’re crazy, his eyes wide, brows raised. “Of course, I want it,” he says after a beat, slow like he’s trying to convince himself, or trying to convince you, though he tightens his grip when you move your thumb again, a groan coming out of him. “Just..” He trails off, heavy breaths pulling his chest in and out against yours. “Do you trust me?” he asks. 

You hum in response, nodding your head. 

“I told you I’d look after you, right? Told you I’d focus on you..” Jay leans in when you nod, his lips finding the base of your neck. One kiss. Another. A beat. A whisper, breath fanning your ear. “You trust me to do that? Going to be good and let me do that?” 

There’s not enough time to process how that makes you feel. Fire in your stomach. Ache in your core. Throbbing heat between your thighs. You nod. He smiles. Turns you over, your back to the mattress, head on your plushies as he watches, eyes dark and all over you. His hand finds your waist, lips finding yours. Slow. Soft. His fingers reach your waistband, stroking the skin there, touch so light you can barely feel it. He asks if this is okay. You nod, it’s more than okay, and you nod again when he asks if he can take your shorts off. 

You miss him as soon as he leaves your side, moving towards the end of the bed. “Up, baby,” he mumbles, and yet again, you nod like you’re in a trance — maybe you are — as you lift your hips off the bed. 

Jay takes his time easing your shorts down your legs, unhurried, relaxed, like he has all the time in the world—you hope he does. His eyes don’t leave the spot between your legs, stuck on your underwear. He doesn’t even look away when he folds up your shorts, leaving them neatly on the end of the bed. Your legs part for him unthinkingly, and he grins, an amused breath coming from his nose. He leans forward, so close you can feel his breath through the thin fabric of your underwear, the only real barrier between you and his mouth. His lips press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, a breath slips out of you, one you didn’t know you were holding. 

His tongue darts over his lips, wetting them, fingers coming up to touch the red lace. “I like these,” he says, running his thumb along the hem. 

“You caught me on a good day,” you say, breathless. “Don’t get used to it.” 

He shakes his head, looking up at you — an unbelievably tender softness in his eyes — before straightening up and crawling back up the bed towards you. “You didn’t let me finish,” he mumbles, lips on your cheek, hand on your waist. “Yeah, I like them, but I like the girl wearing them way more.”

Overwhelming heat floods your cheeks, and Jay smiles into your skin. He tips your chin up towards his face, lips catching yours in a slow kiss, charged with lust and all of the things you can’t get yourselves to say, His tongue sweeps yours, hungry, carnal, enough to distract you from the movement of his hand slipping between your thighs and pushing your underwear aside. Relief washes over you and he hasn’t even done anything yet. A beat passes and Jay’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in maddening circles, drawing a breath out of you. Both of you sigh, relieved, when his finger slips into you, your walls clenching around him, pulling him in. 

You whisper his name, clutching his forearm, and an audible smile spreads over his lips, eyes finding yours as he says, “Yeah, baby?” 

Another finger, pushing in as easy as the first, pries a moan out of you. You can’t help but give in to him so easily, and if he wasn’t looking at you the way he is, you might feel a little embarrassed about it. But there he is, your Jay, straight teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, staring down at you like you’re the only thing that matters. His attention unwavering, completely yours, desire written all over his face and all because of you—just the thought is enough to make you shiver under his touch. 

An exhale, jagged, torn out when his thumb meets your clit again, circling it, slow but not teasing. Gentle. Intentional. His touch is so light it feels imagined, fingertips just grazing the spot you need him the most. 

“Good, baby? You like that?” he asks when you moan. 

You can’t respond, can’t say anything but his name as he eases a third finger into you, a sweet stretch that makes you curse. His thick fingers pump in and out of you, a lewd sound filling the room as his thumb slips over your clit, movement sloppier than before but better, much better. It’s only now that you notice the knot in your stomach, the flame burning away at you from the inside out. White-hot. Blinding. He keeps a steady pace, fingers curling in a rhythm that makes your back arch and thighs clamp around his wrist. 

A cry. A desperate whine. An obscene moan when you come, making a mess of yourself and his hand. Heat scalds you from all angles, coating your skin. Jay kisses the shell of your ear, cooing and praising you under his breath as you shake against him. As sweet as he’s being, he doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath, to process—he doesn’t stop. Not when your toes curl against the duvet, or your hips buck up against his palm, not when your nails sink into his forearm. His thumb stays on your clit, fingers still filling you to the knuckle, drawing out your high for as long as he can until you come again—another shuddering orgasm hitting you quicker than the last. 

“My pretty girl,” Jay whispers, cradling you in his arms, and kissing the top of your head. “I’ve got you, baby, I’m here.” 

You let yourself sink into his hold, catching your breath, liking the steady beat of his heart against your back. His scent and the warmth of his body — his presence — wrap around you like a promise, grounding, safe. Your eyes flutter shut, a soft, happy sigh slipping out of you, liking the way your heart races when he’s around.

Later, you brush your teeth in the bathroom while Jay waits on your bed. The bristles of your toothbrush are soft, but the pressure in your chest is hard, stubborn. Giggles erupt out of you, muffled by toothpaste foam, and you can’t stop looking at your reflection, obsessed with how different you look—a completely flustered being staring back at you, glowing so bright it hurts your eyes.

When you get back to your room, you find him with your Hello Kitty plushie in hand, freezing mid-movement like a caught criminal. His eyes meet yours after a moment, a small, guilty smile twitching at his lips as he lowers the plushie towards your desk, where the rest of your collection now sits in a soft, colourful row. You freeze for a moment, watching him, warmth tugging at the corners of your heart. You’d never thought much of it before, thinking of all the guys who’d shoved them aside—pushing them onto the floor like they were an afterthought. You never saw it as rude, just guys being guys, a little careless, a little indifferent. But seeing Jay now — his soft, deliberate way — placing each one with care like it’s something important, pulls at your heart. 

“Jay,” you say, a light chuckle following. “You didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, touched like he’s put in some grand effort to move all seven of your stuffed toys from the bed to your desk. 

He catches your eye, chuckling too, a sheepish grin when he says, “You know I wouldn’t just put them on the floor, right?” His voice is low, amusement clear in his tone as if he’s letting you in on some unspoken tenet of human decency. “I’m not a supervillain, YN.” The way he says it, with the slightest hesitation, the faintest shadow of nerves darting across his features makes something inside you soften. He scratches at the back of his neck, an unintentional gesture, his rare awkwardness threading between the space of your laughter. “Besides, you were going to do it anyway..” His voice trails off, suddenly seeming unsure. You pull him into a hug, his body relaxing into your touch as you lean up to kiss him and mumble your thanks against his lips. Jay smiles, the two of you still connected at the mouth. “It’s okay, baby,” he says. “It’s no big deal.” 

Deep down, a part of you knows he’s right. It’s not a big deal at all. But it feels like one for you.

You’re way more tired than you’d realised, so getting into bed is like a reward. The sheets are soft against your skin, still warm from where you’d been lying down earlier, and you sink into the mattress as the entire world shrinks to the size of your room, your bed. To the size of your boy, back from the bathroom, climbing in next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his chest to your back. A short moment passes quietly, listening to the sounds of outside — distant cars, the faint rustle of trees — and Jay’s breath on the nape of your neck, soft, steady. 

“You really didn’t have to move my plushies,” you whisper, shifting to look at him even though it’s dark in your room. 

“I know,” he whispers back, soft and sleepy. “But you liked it.” 

The sound of your lips spreading into a smile breaks the silence that follows, and you press your eyes shut as his fingers rub little circles on your hip, his skin warm on yours in the space between the hem of your vest and the waistband of your shorts, a rhythm soothing enough to lull you to sleep. Jay says, of course, when you thank him belatedly, your heavy eyelids drooping as the heat from his body seeps into your skin, and then, as you’re drifting off, you feel it—the softest press of his lips against the top of your head. 

There’s no way to know how much time has passed when you blink your eyes open, and you’re not sure what woke you in the first place, but your room is cast in dim orange from the slowly rising sun outside. 

Sticky warmth wraps you up like a hug, near unbearable heat radiating from everywhere—your own body, Jay’s, the thick air pressing down on you. Too hot for cuddles if you’re honest, chances of overheating at an all-time high—your cheek stuck by sweat to his bare chest, his heart thudding dully against your ear. Even with the duvet bunched up at your feet, sweat forms relentlessly over your skin. 

You shift, slightly, careful not to wake him as you tilt your head back to look at him. Under your palm, you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathes—and God, even in the syrupy heat of summer, he’s beautiful. Straight lashes, impossibly long, casting shadows over the swell of his cheeks. Neck glistening with sweat. Plump lips sitting in a subtle curve. Your heart beats faster just watching him, so hard and loud in your chest you wonder if he can hear it. His face scrunches, brow furrowing as if he can sense your eyes on him. You can’t look away, even though you should. His eyes flutter open, a slow, tired blink as his gaze lands on you, completely unguarded. Belatedly, you screw your eyes shut, faking sleep. He chuckles, soft and drowsy, but entertains you all the same, not saying anything until you open your eyes with an outstretched arm.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs groggily, voice deeper, thick with sleep as his lips graze your forehead on their way to your mouth in a sweet kiss. His hand rests on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. 

There go those butterflies again, feral. You smile against his lips. “Hi, baby.” 

Jay yawns, a long, lazy stretch of breath that he turns away from you as if the air between you is too fragile to interrupt. But then he’s back — thankfully — mouth brushing yours, soft like he’s shy about it, unthinkably tender. “So sleepy,” he mumbles.

His arm moves out from under you in an awkward, languid movement as he leans up on his elbow, body rolling towards you—the position is identical to hours before, and the realisation coats your cheeks with blazing heat. Jay doesn’t seem so affected. He’s looking down at you, eyes flickering over your whole face like he’s studying you, his fingers on your shoulder — gaze following closely — tracing the untanned skin where your bikini tops have been sitting, evidence of a summer spent outside. Your skin burns under his touch, his eyes darting up to meet yours. The strap of your vest slips down, and Jay pulls it back up with his pinky, ducking his head down to kiss you slowly, tender as ever. His lips find yours in a slow, deliberate press, a kiss that has more layers than it should. Pure affection laced with something deeper, not quite out of reach but just under the surface. 

For the second time, you wake up alone after spending the night with Jay.

The sheets are still warm, a whisper of him still lingering there, clinging to your skin. The silence is pervasive, pressing on your chest like a weight. But it’s okay, everything is okay. You tell yourself everything is okay, not to freak out. That Jay wouldn’t just leave. Not again. Not after last night and the softness of his voice when he said, of course, I like you. Couldn’t you tell? 

But then you hear it—nothing. No flushing toilet, no footsteps, not the sound of the shower starting up. Just the hollow quiet of the flat swallowing you whole. A sigh slips from your lips. This is okay. You are okay. Yeah, you’re good. Another sigh. You blink, once, twice. Nothing changes. At the end of the bed, your shorts are folded neatly, exactly as Jay left them, quiet, mocking somehow. You shake your head, you’re okay. He told you he liked you and you believed him, let him touch you.. There’s a pit in your stomach, but if you focus on the pounding of your heart in the back of your throat you can almost ignore it. You hide your face in the pillow, embarrassed, mortified. He’s left before, without warning or explanation, so maybe this is just who he is. Maybe you’re the problem after all, something bad always happens when you want more—you can’t believe you let Minjeong get in your head.

Then, the door opens, its soft creak jarring in the quiet. 

“Baby?” Jay’s voice is gentle, almost concerned. 

For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look up. It’s all too much—the relief, the embarrassment. He didn’t leave. Of course, he didn’t. Your mind is stupid and cruel, betraying you like that. Slowly — cheeks hot, heart pounding — you peek over the edge of the pillow, the sweet scent of syrup hitting your nose. The sight of Jay lifts the weight in your chest, lets you breathe, truly breathe, finally, for the first time since waking up. His hair is ruffled, flat on his forehead. Still shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips. Something from a dream. Pancakes in one hand, a glass of water in the other. As if afraid you might disappear if he moves too quickly, he approaches with some hesitation. 

“What’s the matter?” His voice is gentle, enough to make your heart settle into a normal rhythm.

You choke on a small laugh, more out of self-deprecation than amusement. “I thought you left,” you admit, feeling ridiculous as you do—voice tiny to your own ears, small, childlike.

Jay frowns, setting the plate on the nightstand. He sits beside you, hand hovering over your back like he’s afraid to touch you. When he finally does, he’s gentle, careful, grounding. “I just went to make breakfast,” he says quietly, thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. “Why would I leave?”

“After last time..” You trail off, unsure how to put it.

A beat passes before he says your name, voice much quieter now. “I felt kind of stupid that night, thinking you felt the same as I did, that you just needed time or didn’t want to rush into anything, and then you called me your friend, and I just.. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have left, not like that.”

Taken aback by his openness, all you can do is blink. Words escape you, knowing you should say something, anything, but nothing comes. Jay watches you, eyes scanning your face, stopping on your forehead, staring, like he’s trying to see what’s in there. We’ve been so stupid, you think, almost wanting to laugh. 

He breaks the silence, apologising. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, meaning it. 

Jay shakes his head. “It’s not,” he says, voice firm but gentle, pulling you into his chest, his skin warm on your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head, fingers brushing your hair. “I fucked up—didn’t even realise how much that must’ve hurt you until now. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, baby. Not now, not ever.” His words buzz against your scalp, sinking in fully as he says them, holding you like he’s trying to make sure you understand. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, your arms around his waist, enjoying the warmth of his skin on yours. Until your stomach growls, loud, insistent.

He laughs, low and soft, while you try to fight the flush on your cheeks and neck. Pulling back just a little, Jay grabs the plate, holding it out for you to take. And he lets go completely when you do, grabbing cutlery and an orange you hadn’t noticed. “Eat up, baby,” he says. 

You try to offer him a bite, but he shakes his head, still grinning. “I made them for you,” he insists, guiding the fork to your mouth instead, feeding you. You let him. 

The pancake is perfect, soft and sweet, drenched in just the right amount of syrup. “So good,” you mumble around it, sweetness lingering on your tongue. Suddenly, you’re relieved that Jay doesn’t want to share with you.

“Let’s at least share that,” you say after a beat, feeling nervous under his gaze, gesturing towards the orange sitting in his lap.

Jay nods, picking it up. The peel, vibrant, porous, splits under his fingernail, coming away easily in his palm. You watch as he splits the fruit in half, pulling the segments apart one at a time before holding one out to you, a soft smile on his lips as he does, watching you, waiting. Before you can take it from him, he lifts it to your mouth, eyes on yours, a slow nod like he’s giving you permission. 

You eat the fruit from his fingers, ignoring the stir in your stomach. His touch lingers a second longer than expected, a shiver running down your spine, heat scalding the surface of your skin. He lets his thumb graze your lip, and you can’t help but hold your breath for a beat, heart thudding louder in your chest. You think about the orange as you chew, trying not to focus on the look in Jay’s lidded eyes as he watches you. The way he licks his lips. It’s good—the orange. As vibrant and juicy as you expected, a little sour in the way you think the best oranges always are. 

“Quit looking at me like that,” you tell him, even though you like it. 

A laugh comes out of him, genuinely amused as he shakes his head. “No way, I’m allowed to now,” he says, grinning like he can’t believe it. “And you’re just so pretty, why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve always been allowed to,” you point out, ignoring the last part of what he said, and the subsequent butterflies going wild in your stomach as a result of it.

Jay’s eyes soften, smile unchanging as he leans back on his elbows, finishing off his half of the orange. There’s something about the moment’s almost suffocating intimacy that makes you feel rather vulnerable, transparent—smudged glass he can see through anyway. It’s easier to look at the food than to meet his gaze, syrup pooling at the pancake’s edge like a moat, split orange segments, bright wedges on white ceramic. 

In the kitchen, Jay hums to himself while washing the dishes. The sound of water against ceramic fills the space, dishes being placed carefully in the drying rack but clinking against the metal all the same. You should ask him. You need to, need the security of a label. But you don’t. Instead, you lean against the counter behind him and watch—his back, his arms, the rhythm of his movement, how his muscles shift under his skin. It’s hypnotic. Quiet. Domestic. 

He turns when he’s done, drying his hands with a dish towel. “Hey, gorgeous,” he says when he sees you. That smile again, so easy, so handsome. “What’s on your mind?” 

You hesitate before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in, pressing your face into his chest and inhaling the warmth of his skin. His arms loop over your shoulder, holding you close. You tip your chin towards him, lips catching his in a kiss. Slow and gentle, enough to quiet your worries. He’s not going anywhere. He wants this. Wants you. He means it and you can tell. 

And then, almost without thinking, you say it. “You’re like.. my little boyfriend, right?” 

Jay pulls back slightly, blinking, a cough as his grip on your waist loosens up. “I mean, yeah,” he says after a while, nodding. “Yeah, I am. I want to be.” 

There’s a moment of silence, both of you holding your breath. Waiting. Him for you to say something, tell him what you want; you for.. Well, you’re not entirely sure. 

“Not in love with your hesitation on that,” you admit, narrowing your eyes, mock-serious despite the flutter in your stomach.

He laughs, shaking his head. “I was just thinking the same thing, been wondering when I should ask you.” A kiss to your forehead, quick and sweet. “Guess you beat me to it.” 

“Mm.” You nod, lips pressed together but smiling nonetheless. “Guess I did.”

Jay hides his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin. “Your boyfriend?” he asks, voice muffled, lips tracing the curve of your collarbone. There’s a slight tremor in his grip—like he needs reassurance too. When you nod, his fingers press into your waist as though he’s trying to make sure you’re really there, that the moment is real, that you are. 

“Yes,” he says, and you feel the words more than you hear them, spoken into your skin. “Of course.”

Your heart swells, the feeling of him against you blending into a heady warmth, sticky as the syrup down the drain, sweet as the orange you’d shared. Too much but not enough. Again, your lips find each other, drawn like magnets. A low groan escapes him when your fingers weave into his hair, tugging, the sound making you shudder as his hands find the curve of your ass resting there, grabbing. Kissing and kissing and kissing. Jay’s lips quirk up, smiling, he’s always smiling.  

Then, from the doorway, a thud. 

You flinch, breaking apart with racing hearts as you look over. Minjeong. Jaw dropped. Tote bag dumped by her feet. She’s looking between the two of you, eyebrows furrowed. Not quite surprised, but.. confused, you think. “Is this actually happening?” she asks. 

Hardly believing the situation yourself, you don’t respond. 

“I hope so,” Jay says, his smile audible.

Silence follows, and Minjeong steps further into the room, arms crossed, eyeing him like he’s the enemy. She points an accusatory finger at him, so close you can feel the warmth radiating from her. “Don’t mess this up. Don’t hurt her.”

He raises his brows, blinking like a scolded child. “I won’t,” he says, a smile creeping onto his lips. 

“I’m serious,” she continues, voice still firm but softening slightly. “You look after her, okay? I’ve spent a long time rooting for you, so don’t make me regret it.”

You stand there, mortified, hiding your face in Jay’s chest, as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “MJ, please,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” she replies. “That’s why I’m saying this.” 

Jay wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close and smiling at you when you resurface. “I’ll take care of her,” he says, gaze locked on yours, butterflies stirring in your stomach as he speaks. Lifting his head, he looks over at Minjeong. “I promise.” He extends his pinky finger and she looks at it like it’s offensive, scoffing. 

And with that, she turns on her heels and leaves the two of you alone in the kitchen. At the sound of Minjeong’s door closing down the hall, Jay lets out a breath, looking relieved in a way you hadn’t noticed he wasn’t. He looks down at you again, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s a little scary,” he mumbles, hands finding your waist again, pinching. 

As if sensing your boyfriend’s terror, she texts you before you can console him, the notification’s ping! making him flinch.

Minjeong: SO HAPPY FOR YOU😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭don’t tell ur man but I wanted to hug you both so bad.. Needed to be scary bff for today but another time I swear 

Minjeong: JAYN FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY 🥳

You: I LOVE YOU

You: He saw my screen btw sorry pookie

You: I can’t stop smiling..

Minjeong: Loser. (same)

Minjeong: I love you more.

PDA has never mattered to you in the past, not in the way that some are against it, or others live for it—you’ve never cared one way or the other. If a partner took your hand while walking, you wouldn’t pull away, but you probably wouldn't be the one to initiate it either. Kissing in front of others was okay, but typically reserved for greetings, or something special, and only ever a peck unless you were drunk. But with Jay, you just can’t help yourself. You don’t have to think about reaching for him—it just happens. Fingers locking with his, your head on his shoulder, only realising when his thumb brushes the back of your hand, or his head rests on top of yours. When you’re together, it’s like the concept of personal space doesn’t exist between you.

Even after a week of hanging out almost every day, your friends still light up at the sight of you and Jay together, practically swooning whenever he pours a drink for you or kisses your temple. You won’t act like you don’t like the attention, even when it comes in the form of Donghyuck groaning at you, covering his eyes. Tonight, though, told off by Jaehyun and Yizhuo, he doesn’t say anything. Not even when Jay joins the four of you in the kitchen, greeting you with a kiss in front of them, hand slipping into your back pocket. And it stays there when you walk back into the living room, thumb grazing the top of your shorts, his touch soft, but sending shivers up your spine anyway. 

The group is sprawled around the room, the TV on though no one is watching, and from the dining table, Minjeong says aww when she sees you and Jay. Jeno offers a bright grin from the seat beside her, looking at you both like he’s watching something inevitable as he raises his glass of water in a silent toast. Jay pulls you into him when he sits on the couch, and the night spills out around you, cosy, comfortable. Lamps turned on as the sun sets outside, easy laughter cutting over the faint hum of the music, Jay’s chin on your shoulder, his arms around your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on the fabric of your tank top—no hesitation when he lets his touch fall to your hip. 

Minjeong joins you on the couch, sinking into the cushions next to you. Her cheeks are flushed from drinking and the heat that sticks her hair to her cheeks and neck. She’s on the verge of sleep, blinking heavily, each one longer than the last. Still, she manages a smile, shaking her head when you tell her to go to bed. 

“It’s so nice seeing you like this, all affectionate,” she mumbles after a while. “It suits you.” 

You glance at Jay. His smile makes your heart race when he meets your gaze, soft and small like it’s something he’s keeping just for you. “Yeah,” you say quietly, turning back to Minjeong. “It does.” 

She nods, letting her head fall back against the couch. You watch as she finally succumbs to sleep after having fought so valiantly against it and can’t help but smile. Gently, you brush her hair from her face, thinking about how easy this all feels—this group, this night, this moment. Jay’s hand rests on your thigh, his touch steady and familiar.

Before leaving, your friends help you tidy up—a task you notice is much easier when you’re sober, finding yourself more efficient tonight than ever. Save for Jay and Jeno, everyone else is slowed by sleepiness and alcohol, shuffling around the flat while fumbling with empty pizza boxes and drink bottles. Your comfort in this routine, however, is unchanged — heightened, maybe — spending even the mundane moments of the night in each other’s company, still reluctant to leave when the flat is tidier than when they arrived.

Jay stands by your side in the doorway, arm slipping around your shoulders as you watch Jeno and Yizhuo walk down the corridor towards the stairwell, staying put until you hear the door slam shut behind them. The apartment feels bigger now that it’s just the two of you — and Minjeong, sleeping soundly in her room — again. While he watches, you lock the door, double-checking it right away before you head towards the bathroom together.

Side by side, you brush your teeth in a comfortable quiet, shoulders bumping, maddening heat spreading over your skin from the contact. While washing your face, you watch Jay unfasten his belt in the mirror, stuck on his hands as he does—and you flush, mortified when he catches your gaze in the glass, smiling. Your eyes are screwed shut when he gets into the shower cubicle, sliding the door shut behind him—you don’t open them again until long after the water starts running. For a moment, you think about joining him, asking if you can, but can’t get the words out as you pat your face dry with a towel. In your room, you put on your pyjamas and get into bed, listening to the soft murmur of the shower while you wait for him.

Freshly showered, shirt dark around his collar, Jay joins you at long last. He’s humming an old song as he stands in front of the mirror, a towel in his hand, scrunching it through his damp hair. You watch from the bed, eyes tracing the familiar shape of him, his reflection hazy in the dim light. There’s something soothing about watching him go through his routine, fingers working essence through his hair, smoothing it with a quiet concentration you love. It’s all so familiar already, a comfort you never knew you’d been lacking. 

Jay pulls his shirt over his head, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s a sight you’ve seen more times than you can count, but it still takes your breath away, Painted golden by the soft lamplight, his skin glows, honeyed and warm. His plaid pyjama pants hang low on his hips, the waistband of his underwear peeking out. He stretches his arms above his head, muscles shifting and flexing in his back, putting on a show—he must be. 

Not wanting to endure your separation any longer, you pat the spot beside you like he can see. “Come to bed.”

He turns, grinning, the sight of it forcing warmth to curl through your chest. “You sleepy, baby?” he asks, voice dipping low, smooth like velvet.

“Just missing you,” you admit, shaking your head—he makes it so easy to say things like that. 

His smile widens as he crosses the room, and you want him more with each step he takes towards you. Joining you in bed, he pulls you into him, wrapping you up in his arms and his scent, velvety and rich, warm and so Jay. He threads his fingers through your hair, a soft sigh slipping out of you as he kisses your temple. 

“I’m right here,” he says, lips moving on your skin. 

You’ve never felt so at ease. And you’ll never tire of kissing him, unable to resist—mouth on his before you even realise. He hums into the kiss, lips quirking up into a smile at your eagerness. His hand slips under your shirt, his palm on your lower back, holding you close. Whether he means to or not, hips buck against you, cock hard through his soft pants. Goosebumps crowd your skin at the feeling, a wave of desperation washing over you, so hot and all-consuming it pulls a moan from your chest. 

It’s not the first time you’ve been here with him — it’s not even the first time today — but the familiarity of the situation only heightens your anticipation, rather than stifling it. Your hands find his hair, fingers threading through the strands and pulling absentmindedly, a groan tugged out of him, the two of you pressed so close together you feel the hum of it buzz against you. Already, you’ve shared so many moments like this, kissing and touching until your breath turns ragged. Hands in underwear and heads between thighs—always so close but never quite going all the way. 

Jay’s lips leave yours, kissing along your jaw, wet and open-mouthed. Down your neck as your head tips back. Your collarbone, chest, right above your tank top before he stops, eyes fluttering open and locking on yours. The sight of him gives you pause, he’s unbearably pretty like this—looking up at you through long lashes, hair covering his forehead, parted lips swollen, red and glossy and perfect. 

“Can I?” he asks, fingers caught on the fabric, unmoving. 

You nod and he smiles sweetly, a warm look in his eyes that makes your heart race as his pinky hooks under the strap, pulling it down and letting it fall. The thin fabric is loose around your arm as it slips unceremoniously before resting. Nothing much has changed, at least where your level of decency is concerned, but he looks at your shoulder like it’s something special. Like you’re something special. For better or for worse, you don’t have time to dwell on this. He pulls the neckline down under your breasts, eyes blown and staring as if it’s his first time seeing you this way—bare-chested and wanting. A beat passes, unnerving before he leans in, his finger on your nipple as he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear, mumbling into your skin about how beautiful you are. At the compliment, at the pinch of his thumb and index finger on your nipple, the twist, a sigh slips out of you, equal parts relieved and turned on—this feeling only exaggerated when he lets his lips find your other breast, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. His teeth graze the bud, biting just a bit, barely enough to even feel, but your eyes screw shut anyway, thighs pressing together—forcing pressure where you need it, need him, the most.

It takes him a while to move on, kissing your stomach until he reaches your shorts and you lift your hips from the bed, desperate for him. He smiles and you can hear it, feel it on your skin as his fingers hook under your waistband, pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs. Your thighs part for him instinctively, his palms resting on your raised knees as he chuckles.

“You want it?” he asks, raising a brow. 

You nod, stuck in a daze, under his spell. 

Jay smiles, leaning in. His tongue finds your slit, licking slow, agonisingly slow until he reaches your clit. You gasp, toes curling from the contact as he groans against you, fingers threading through his soft hair. A wave of pleasure rushes over you at once, a desperate whine tumbling out of you when he catches your clit between his lips, sucking, grazing it with the tip of his tongue, humming around it. He’s enjoying it as much as you, revelling in the way you respond to him, every moan of his name and tug of his hair spurring him on. 

You never last long with Jay, and tonight is no exception. Your back arches off the bed as he pushes his finger into you, working you open on his knuckles while his tongue swirls over your clit—eating you out like he worships you. It’s all too much all at once, almost unbearable. He only pushes his face further into you, fingers hitting your spot over and over as you come undone. 

Pleased with himself, Jay sits up straight once you’ve calmed down, thumb stroking the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. His eyes are lidded, stuck on your clit like he needs more. His chin and plump lips are glowing, shining golden under the lamplight. He’s catching his breath, chest heaving, pretty face flushed. All while you watch, chewing on your bottom lip as he brings his right hand to his mouth, groaning around his fingers when he sucks on them. 

He blinks his eyes open slowly, gaze flicking up to yours, needy. “So good, baby, always tastes so good,” he says.

For some reason, the words leave you flustered, hiding your face with your hands, suddenly shy as if you haven’t begged him to come on your face after sucking him off. As if you haven’t just had his head between your legs. 

“Sweet girl,” he coos, a soft smile on his face as he crawls up the bed towards you. His torso over yours, hips dipping between your thighs. “You’re not shy, baby, I know you’re not shy. In fact, I think you like it when I talk like that, huh?”

Not trusting the steadiness of your voice, you shake your head. 

“No?” Jay sounds surprised but you know he doesn’t buy it. “You don’t like hearing how much I love those pictures you’re always sending me? That video?” 

Your cheeks burn as he moves your hands, smiling down at you and pressing a peck to your lips. When he pulls away, his dark eyes search yours, waiting for an answer. Too embarrassed to admit how much his compliments affect you — even though he seems to know — you mumble, “I like it a normal amount.”

“Yeah?” He raises a brow.

You nod. “Yeah.”

His cock throbs through his pants, the only thing separating you as his lips find yours—heat pooling in your stomach at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Jay grinds against you, the friction sweet, almost too much for how sensitive you are, making a mess on his pants that he doesn’t seem to care about. You can’t stop moaning, passing them from your mouth into his, choked out sobs slipping out of you until you can’t take it anymore. He whines into the kiss, the sound so hot you can hardly breathe. Hardly think to move your lips properly against his, teeth bumping a little, messy in the best way. 

“Please,” you manage, somehow. “Need you.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning back. Jay’s gaze meets yours, dark with want, lidded. Scanning your face, tracing every feature before meeting your eyes again. 

Beyond desperate, your hips buck up against his. “Please, Jay,” you repeat, watching as he gets up without a word. 

Jay’s standing by the bed, chest heaving as he pulls his pants down. Your stomach flips at the sight of the wet spot darkening his grey underwear, his cock hard and thick against the fabric, an outline you can’t look away from. He pulls his underwear off too, cock smacking his toned stomach with a wet sound, tip red, glossy, a shiny streak left in its wake as he wraps his palm around it. You couldn’t look away if you tried. He likes the attention though. He must. It’s obvious in the way he strokes himself, lets his thumb swipe his slit, spreading his precum. Brows knitting together, jaw slack, ragged breaths tugged out of his chest as his eyes trail over your body, gaze so focused it makes your cheeks burn. 

Chewing on your lip, you manage to tear your eyes away from him — with much effort — reaching for your bedside table to get a condom out. Jay steps towards you, holding his free hand to take it from you, but you shake your head, and he raises a brow, tilts his head. 

His hand cups your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. “No?” 

“I want to put it on for you,” you mumble, eyes on his. 

His eyes widen for a split second, a hum coming out of him as he nods, tracing your lips with his thumb as he says, “Go ahead, princess. Whatever you want.” 

Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, you look down at your hands to tear the foil and take the condom out. Pinching the condom and rolling it down on him, you do your best not to think about the feeling of his cock in your fist, because you’ll be here all day if you don’t move on—doing your best not to think about the sigh he lets out under your touch, or the way he mutters good girl, under his breath. 

In a moment, you’re lying on your back again, Jay over you as his eyes search into yours.

“Now, Jay. Please,” you whisper, about one more second away from begging.

Jay nods, ducking down to press a kiss to your cheek as his hand reaches for his cock, letting it glide over your slit—the feeling making him gasp. Anticipating courses through you, sweat beading on your skin’s surface, a sigh when he pushes in, finally. That sting, that stretch—your body trying to accommodate him. You have to tell yourself to relax, remind yourself to breathe through the thud of your heart beating in your ears.

“All good?” he asks, voice strained, breathy. 

You nod, barely. “Uh huh.” 

He keeps pushing, slow as he can, one inch at a time, filling you up and up and up until he bottoms out. Aching heat pulses between your legs, right where you connect, so full you can’t believe it. You can barely breathe. Jay lets out a sigh, a harsh breath, hot on your skin as his head falls forward, his nose in the crook of your neck. 

“So full,” you whisper. 

“Yeah, baby,” he mumbles. A kiss to your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“Feels good,” you tell him on a shaky breath. “Just.. a lot.” 

Jay chuckles at that, light and airy against your neck. “So perfect,” he says. “My perfect girl.” 

His perfect girl. The sound of his voice, the feeling of his words on your skin, of him closer than ever makes you clench around him, forcing a muffled moan out of him and into your collarbone. A beat passes like this. Slow. Adjusting. Until, finally, Jay leans up on his palms, pulling his hips back as far as he can without slipping out. You hate the emptiness as soon as you feel it, but slowly, again, he thrusts into you, filling you up, fucking you open. 

His eyes find yours, hand pushing hair from your face, resting on your cheek, thumb stroking your skin. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, keeping him there. You have never been so full or so in love in your life. You want to tell him, need to, but you can’t get the words out, can’t say anything. So, you kiss his palm instead, hoping he’ll understand. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes boring into yours. 

You nod. You’re okay, you’ve never been better. The words are stuck in your throat. I love you, Jay. So much. I love you so much. You can’t speak. You can hardly breathe. You nod again, you’ve never been better. 

“You feel so good, baby, so right,” he whispers. “Made just for me.” 

Racing heart. Fluttering stomach. “Just for you,” you tell him. You mean it.

Jay smiles, lips brushing yours, a moan from your mouth to his when he moves. Slow. Gentle. Tender. Mumbled praises, soft whimpers, trembling breaths. His lips on your cheek, your neck—sucking the skin at the base, leaving a mark probably. A few. Your breath hitches, caught in your throat, as he rocks his hips against yours. He’s settled into a rhythm, steady enough now for his tip to brush that perfect spot, right where you need him, with each thrust.

“There,” you moan, eyes falling shut. “Fuck, Jay.”

Something shifts in him when you say that, his thrusts getting quicker, needier—so deep it doesn’t feel real. He’s moaning, your name slipping from his lips without constraint. His eyes are dewy, lips kiss-bitten, wet, red, parted just a touch, his sweat-damp hair clinging to his skin. Seeing him like this and knowing it’s because of you, that he wants you just as much as you want him only makes it that much better, that much more overwhelming. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in circles and sending your mind into a spiral until you’re nothing more than a whiny mess underneath him.

Jay leans towards your ear, his lips grazing its shell. “Want to see you make a mess, baby. Don’t hold back,” he says, his voice deep, the words hot against your skin. 

Something about the depth of his voice, the heat of his words against your skin makes a flame burn blue in your stomach. It curls over you, engulfing you, heat and pleasure filling you up, expanding so much you can feel it in every corner of your body as you come undone around him, unravelling completely. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “My pretty baby.”

You don’t have it in you to reply, you can’t. Not when Jay keeps going, his palm pressing on your stomach as he fucks into you, the sound, noisy and wet, fills the room. His thrusts lose their rhythm, slowing down a little, sporadic as his head falls into the crook of your neck, his moans muffled by your skin.

It takes a while for the two of you to come to, Jay only pulling out once he’s settled down, rolling over and pulling you into his chest. The feeling of his slick skin against yours should be uncomfortable in this heat but it’s exactly what you need, his palm stroking your back as he whispers into your hair. There’s something so tender about the moment that you feel your heart swell against your ribcage, beating a mile a minute. 

Jay wipes you clean with his t-shirt before carrying you off to the bathroom. You don’t have it in you to protest, completely spent, eyelids heavy, yawns impossible to suppress as he sets you on your feet in the shower. Steam curls quickly around the cubicle, and being here with Jay makes you acutely aware of every single inch of your body, and the feeling of his fingers all over it. The water slips over you in soft rivulets, the warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. Jay reaches for the soap, gently lathering your shoulders, his hand brushing yours as your eyes fall shut, leaning against him. 

The night air clings to your skin as you lie back in bed, warmth still heavy in your room despite the distant hum of the fan, and the open window. Jay watches you, eyes fixed in a way that makes your heart skip, and you can’t help but laugh softly.

“What is it?” you ask, the word more breath than sound. 

He shrugs, the smallest lift of his shoulder, as if he’s embarrassed by the simplicity of it. “Nothing,” he says, voice soft, eyes unwavering. “I just love you.” 

It’s blurted out, like it slipped past his defenses before he could catch it. An accident, he seems to think—he immediately turns his head, face hidden in the pillow. But you can see the flush blooming on the tips of his ears, the back of his neck turning a deep, warm pink. Vulnerable. Exposed. 

For a moment, you’re stunned, the words hanging in the air between you—fragile and precious. There’s no stopping the warmth blooming in your chest, spreading like sunlight through your veins until it reaches every part of you. A tickly flutter disrupts your stomach, butterflies going mad at the thought, the knowledge—he loves you. Said it like it was the most natural thing in the world to say, like it’d been on his mind for a while, sitting on the tip of his tongue waiting for the perfect moment. You can’t help the grin that splits over your lips, too wide to contain. Reaching out, you let your fingers card through his soft hair, touch as gentle as you can manage. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” you whisper, voice soft but sure. “I love you too.”

Slowly, Jay lifts his face from the pillow, eyes wide, almost disbelieving. A pretty flush dusts his cheekbones, eyes locking onto yours, excitement flickering behind them like a fire’s first spark, making your heart race. His lips part to speak, moving soundlessly for a beat before he gives you a butterfly-inducing, knee-weakening grin, a breathy laugh slipping out of him. He pulls you closer, hands cradling your face like you’re something special, something he can’t quite believe is real. The thought makes your pulse trip over itself. Jay’s lips are soft against your, slow, gentle, kissing you like you have all the time in the world to do it.

With time, the novelty of your and Jay’s relationship has worn off amongst your friends. Gone are the gasps when you kiss Jay’s cheek, and the awws (and singular gag from Donghyuck) when either of you does anything in the other’s general vicinity. So no one says anything when you reach Jimin’s place, hand in hand as you join the group in the backyard, or when you lay in a lounge chair and Jay leaves the boys to join you, laying on top of you, with his head on your chest while you’re talking to Minjeong and Yizhuo—neither girl missing a beat, continuing the conversation like nothing happened. 

For you however, every brush of Jay’s lips on your skin, every smile sent your way from across the room, just the feeling of his eyes on you — so soft and so fond and so full of love — is still enough to make you and the butterflies in your stomach giddy. And you suspect it always will be.

There are a few things you separate for, like going to the bathroom, helping Jimin put food in the oven, and getting into the pool for a game of chicken while Jay stays behind, cheering for you and Jaehyun from the grass with Jeno and Jake. But when it’s all said and done, time and time again, you find yourselves gravitating back to one another, and you end up leading Aeri over to him while drying your hair after the game.

The two of you lay undisturbed at the back of the garden, only a fleecy blanket separating your skin from the dry grass. In Jay’s company, everything else — the music, the sounds of your friends — falls away, lost to the world outside your bubble. And like they’ve been since that night in your room, his hands are on you, smoothing sunscreen over your shoulders with as much care as a sculptor.

“There,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction as though he’s created a masterpiece, not just protected you from the climbing UV index. His hands linger, then drag lazily down your back as you let out a laugh through your nose. You don’t tell him to stop, you don’t want him to, loving the security you feel under his touch, how it always feels like a claim—the thought sends a rush of warmth through you, a quiet thrill humming beneath your skin.

Much to Donghyuck’s loud disgust, Jay feeds you a bite of his pizza at the garden table. He rolls his eyes, slumping in his seat across from the two of you. “Somehow, I liked you two more when you were pretending not to know your feelings were mutual.” He makes a big show of putting his cup down on the table while you laugh at him. “And you were really annoying back then.” 

“Back then? That was only three weeks ago..” Jaehyun says, playing with the tab on his Guinness. 

Donghyuck is incredulous, saucer-eyed as he whips his head in Jaehyun’s direction. “Three weeks?!” he repeats, horror covering his face as Jaheyun nods. “Feels like a lifetime,” he mutters, shaking his head. 

Against your back, Jay’s chest vibrates with laughter, warm and healing on your skin. His head falls forward, hair tickling your shoulder. Fidgeting with your necklace you get lost in your thoughts, hardly believing either that you and Jay have only been together for three weeks—have only really known each other for a few months. Those months gone like seconds, everything changing right before your eyes. It’s already the end of August and the end of summer is right at your fingertips if you stretch enough—all while things have only just begun with you and Jay. 

Bellies full, a cider in his hand and yours in the other, you retreat to the blanket, to your bubble. There you lie together under the sun, talking, playing with his hair, and stealing kisses. Again, the world blurs at the edges, conversations falling away, unnoticed by either of you. Only as the sun goes down and the night air turns cool, do you take note of the shift—the party suddenly swelling around you, more people arriving, laughter rising. You put your skirt back on, steal Jay’s button-up, and see Mark and Jaemin sitting on the garden swing together, beaming at each other as Kim Chaewon takes a seat between them.

Next to you, Jay can’t take his eyes off of you, grinning like always. A flutter in your stomach. Like always. 

“You know,” you say, half-joking. “A picture would last longer.”

He shakes his head like he’s scolding himself internally. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he asks sincerely, pulling his phone from his pocket before you can say anything else. Jay’s smile deepens as snaps a few photos, looking at you when he’s done like you’re something he wants to keep forever. 

With wobbly knees and a racing heart, you go to button up his shirt, but he gives you a look—one that stops you mid-motion, that says more than words could ever manage, so you leave it open. The sleeves are much too long, hanging well past your hands. He rolls them up for you, his fingers quick, warm, efficient. 

“You look ridiculous,” he teases, but the warmth in his voice betrays him, his grin finally faltering when you remind him that the shirt’s too big for him too. 

Pleased with his work, both sleeves rolled to your elbows, his hands are on your waist — hot and deliberate — and his lips are on yours. Soft and lingering, not caring for the steadily growing crowd in Jimin’s garden or if any of them see. Even as the night urges on, those hands, that touch, don’t leave you. Chin on your shoulder while you pour a drink in the kitchen. Fingers twirling around the strings of your bikini bottoms while you close the lemonade. Lips on yours before you have a chance to take a sip—cool Malibu and lemonade running down your arm, wetting your sleeve. 

Through the window above the sink, your friends are around the garden table, sitting on laps and sharing drinks, laughing mouths wide open, an empty seat next to the fence waiting for you and Jay to join them. Everyone’s smiling when you do, Jay sitting first and pulling you into his lap, arms around you. His hand slips to your thigh, fixing your skirt, thumb moving in lazy circles on your skin. Minjeong catches your eye, a knowing smile on her lips as she squeezes your knee—a perfect moment. A perfect summer. 

Hours later — when everyone’s gone home, and the only proof tonight even happened is your damp bikini on Jay’s doorknob, still smelling vaguely of chlorine, and a text to Minjeong, saying you and Jay got home okay, knowing she’ll tease you later about calling his place home — you get into bed with him, a smile on your face, and the certainty of two things: he’ll be here in the morning, and so will the sun, rising as always, like it tends to do. 

© zreamy (2024), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let me know your thoughts !

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[moon-reblogs]

just a few kisses - jay

summary -> it turns out jay is an affectionate drunk (and a bit cheesy)

-> female reader x jay, fluff, established relationship, jay is obsessed with y/n's ass, suggestive, mentions of sexual activity

“can’t we leave already?” your friend complained trying to stretch her aching back. you and your friends (with your boyfriend jay) were at the new year’s after party, your friend group was huddled into a corner, too exhausted to mingle with the other guests.

“just half an hour more,” you tried to comfort your friend, while your eyes scanned the crowd. you hadn’t seen jay in a while, and you were starting to grow restless.

suddenly you felt a body come in contact with your back and a hot breath fanning over your neck. from the way your friend was jokingly rolling her eyes and turning her head away, you guessed the person behind you had to be jay. you were about to turn around to confirm this when jay opened his mouth.

“your ass looks so hot in this dress baby?” you spluttered and almost choked on the champagne you had been sipping for the past fifteen minutes. you coughed a few times before whipping around to stare at your boyfriend, scandalized. jay giggled at the look on your face and wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you in.

“how much have you had to drink?” you questioned after getting over your initial shock. this was a side of jay you rarely got to see in public. sure, he was the cuddly when you were alone at your apartment, but whenever you were out and about, the pda was kept to the minimum.

“not that much, actually,” jay chuckled before surprising you even further and starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. a giggle bubbled up from between your lips.

“baby, there are people here!” you laughed and tried to push his face away. it took a few tries but eventually jay surrendered and settled for just looking at you, caressing your neck.

“well,” you mused after a while of just standing there with a small smile on your lips, tracing patterns onto jay's chest, “how are you feeling right now?”

jay slowly slided his hands down your backside, settling them on your ass. you looked up at him and raised your eyebrows.

“pretty amazing,” jay smirked and gave your ass a light squeeze. you snorted at that and slapped jay lightly on his arm. jay's smirk only widened as he leaned in closer to your ear.

“y/n,” he whispered, “i wanna eat you out.”

a shiver ran through you as you closed your eyes and bit your lip. you wouldn’t deny that the offer was very tempting, especially because lately your work schedules had been so hectic you used every bit of free time to just catch up on sleep, but nothing would change the fact that you were in public and leaving the party soon.

“jay, you know we can’t.”

jay whined and went back to nosing your jawline, stopping occasionally to press a small kiss to your face. you exhaled slowly, gathering all your willpower to push jay gently away from you. jay gave in and pulled his face away but tightened his grip around your waist.

“i didn’t even get my new year’s kiss yet, can i at least get that,” jay started pouting and tried to emphasize his unhappiness by stomping his foot, which only resulted in him losing his balance and almost falling and pulling you with him. you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. you glanced quickly at your friends over jay's shoulder. no one was paying you any attention.

“alright, just come with me”, you said in a hushed tone, grabbing jay's wrist from behind your back and starting to lead him through the crowds. jay didn’t question you, only followed you pliantly for a few minutes before you reached a secluded corridor. you quickly scanned your surroundings before turning to jay.

“just a few kisses, okay? we don’t have much time, we’re leaving soon,” you reminded jay while pulling him closer from the collar of his shirt. a sly smirk overtook jay's face.

“sure, baby,” he said before pressing you into the nearest wall. it became quite obvious to you in the next seconds that this was not about to be just a few kisses.

[moon-reblogs]

fast forward - pjs

pairing. jay x fem!reader

synopsis. After yet another romantic disappointment in the form of one Jake Sim, you go to the well you’ve always believed to grant wishes and ask for your one and true love to appear. That night, you go to sleep in your bed but wake up in a strange house. When you head downstairs, you find a man washing the dishes and telling you your favorite meal is waiting on the table for you. You’ve spent hours glaring at the back of that head, you could recognize it anywhere—it belongs to none other than Park Jongseong, your high school sworn enemy... and future husband, or so it seems.

genre+warnings. high school au, the type of e2l where they never really hated each other to begin with, they act like they're academic rivals even though they're not particularly academically gifted, jay has a thing about german the language, sunoo and kazuha besties, heeseung is a loser, jake and sunghoon are assholes sorry, ive liz is german, 02z get into a white-boy locker-room fight, attempts at banter etc, they're a little bit silly

word count. 26.6k

a/n. had the idea for this listening to fast forward by somi LAST SUMMER... and only wrote it this summer and only posting it now <3 i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it !!!!! jay is an absolute cutie here pls love him as much as i do.... as always let me know what u think and remember to vote for @zreamy president in the upcoming elections, shes the only one i trust to beta-read and hence to run a country <3 no it doesnt matter that shes scottish put this woman in the white house

There is only one thorn on the otherwise immaculate rose that is your life.

Every morning, you wake up feeling refreshed from eight hours of restful sleep. You go downstairs to the kitchen, a boiling cup of milky Earl Grey tea already waiting for you, and eat breakfast with your brother Jinwoo and father. Your mom dashes in, placing a kiss on your and Jinwoo’s foreheads, and on your dad’s lips, saying she’s late for work but will see you in the evening. “Have fun at school,” she bids every morning without fail. Your dad teaches Korean Literature at your school, so the three of you drive there together. He watches amusedly as you and Jinwoo bicker light-heartedly on the way there—even in the pits of his puberty, you and your brother get along like two peas in a pod. He still tells you about everything he learns at school and fills you in on the drama in his class, up-to-date with everything even though he pretends not to be interested.

You’re always one of the first to arrive at school, so you scroll through your feed or finish up some homework as you wait for your classmates to file in. Your friends circle your table and you chat about the last episode of the show you’ve been watching until the bell rings and they leave you for their assigned seat.

Class starts with your teacher handing out the math tests you took last week. “Jay and Y/N, great job, keep it up,” he says as he walks past you and the boy in front of you, and hands you your paper. Relief floods your body as you take in the bright red 82 in the top right-hand corner—not the best of the class, but enough for you to be satisfied. 

Good friends, good grades—nothing extraordinary, but it’s a life you dare say any high school senior would want.

There’s just that one thing. The thorn in your side that won’t stop poking.

You glare at it as it whips around in its seat and takes a peek at the grade on your paper before you get to snatch it away from view. It only gives you three seconds to rejoice over your grade. 

“Aw, Y/N. Good effort! Maybe you’ll do better next time!” Jongseong coos, holding up his test for you to see and glare even harder at. 85. Not that big of a difference, but it makes you want to punch the faux sympathetic pout off of his face. 

You’re about to spit something just as petty back at him, but someone whispers your name, and you turn your head in their direction. Beside you, Jake is smiling at you as he asks what grade you got. Your attention is swiftly taken off of Jongseong, whom you don’t even notice dramatically rolling his eyes, huffing in annoyance, and turning around. 

“82,” you whisper back, holding up your paper for Jake to see. His friendly, absurdly handsome smile makes your ears burn. “You?”

The corners of his lips fall down into a sad pout—the kind that makes your heart melt rather than gets on your nerves like someone else. “68,” he says. Leans in over the gap between your tables. Your heart jumps uncontrollably around your rib cage. “Do you wanna go over it together during the break? I think I need some help.”

One-on-one time with Jake Sim? You don’t need to be asked twice. You nod silently, almost mesmerized by Jake as his grin widens. He leans back in his chair. “Perfect. I’ll see you in the library, then.”

“Library, yeah,” you echo dumbly, but thankfully, your teacher tells you to all quiet down and starts the lesson. 

You’re antsy all throughout the rest of your morning classes and lunch break, so nervous that you barely manage to finish your yogurt. Of course, your friends, Sunoo and Kazuha, have a field day with this, and even you can’t help but laugh along as they jump between reassuring you that it’ll be fine, slapping your shoulders with excitement and making fun of your uncharacteristic quietness.

Jake arrives at the library five minutes after you, looking around the room before he finds you at the big round table in the back of the library. Your brain is too riddled with anxiety for you to make more small talk than “Hey,” “Hey,” “How was your lunch?” “Good, yours?” “Good.” And so you just jump straight into it.

You’ve only had a couple minutes of quiet explanation on your part and heavy nodding on Jake’s when Jay appears at the entrance of the library. He spots you and Jake immediately, and without any hesitation whatsoever heads towards you and sits down at your table, right across from the two of you.

“Hey, Jay,” Jake greets in a friendly manner, but Jay only responds with a nod of his head.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he says when he notices you glaring. “I won’t bother you.”

As if he could be anything other than a bother, you think, but courteously keep to yourself. The childish rivalry you and Jongseong have got going on has no business spoiling a rare hour of alone time you get with Jake. As you go over the exercises he had the most trouble with on the test with you, your eyes often drift over to Jongseong as if to check on him—you’re cautious like he’s a spider in the corner of the room that might spring on you at any moment.

And indeed, the moment your gaze leaves him for more than a minute as you explain an intricate theorem to Jake, he’s out of sight, and panic shoots through you. Where the hell has he suddenly gone off to? you wonder, but not for long.

“There’s a much easier way to do this, really,” says a voice from behind you, and of course, it’s none other than Jongseong himself, quite literally butting his way into your tutoring session. Right between you and Jake, he bends over and rests his elbows on the table, taking Jake’s pencil from him and describing the theorem in a way that isn’t that much simpler. Your eyes shoot bullets into the side of his face while he, unbothered, explains this and that to Jake, who glances at you a couple of times but otherwise does not seem so perturbed by the sudden change of tutor. Either Jongseong doesn’t notice your glare or doesn’t care, because he doesn’t budge.

Just when they’re done with the exercise and you think you’ll get Jake to yourself again, another voice appears from behind, a much higher, girlier one. You notice the hand on Jake’s shoulder first, until slowly, your eyes drift to the face—you recognize Yunjin, head of the cheerleading squad, and she’s smiling at you, a smile that at once tries to cover and betrays her surprise at seeing you and Jake together. She doesn’t acknowledge you any more than that, gaze going back to “Jakey,” asking him if he wants to head to class together. You check the time—five minutes before the first bell rings. What do they need so much time getting to class for? It’s not like any room in this school is more than a three-minute walk away.

But Jake doesn’t even look back at you, just says “Sure!” with far too much enthusiasm for your taste as he packs his stuff. “Thanks, you two,” he says, looking at Jay first, then at you. You think his eyes linger on you for a second, but just like that, he’s gone, him and Yunjin walking side-by-side.

You watch them leave—they look good together, the cheerleading captain and the soccer team’s star. The white Vans she’s wearing have a bunch of red love hearts on them that look drawn on, and you think, Of course, Jake is the type to date someone cute, someone fun, someone who would draw on their shoes. Not someone like you, whose idea of a good Friday night is lighting up a scented candle and reading your favorite novel for the nth time. When they’ve left the library, you slump in your seat, crumpling the sheet of paper you had drawn a bunch of graphs and formulae on to make things clearer for Jake. Jay awkwardly clears his throat and finally returns to his seat, looking at you with his lips pressed in a tight line.

“Y/N?” he asks tentatively, and the sound is too much to bear, so you pack your things and head to your next class early, too. Your mind is racing with a million thoughts a minute—who is that girl to Jake, how come you’ve never seen them together before, how come he was so eager to leave with her, what was that smile she gave you about? In the fifty-five minutes of your biology class, which you uncharacteristically don’t pay any attention to, you’ve convinced yourself that they are crazy in love and that none of Jake’s actions or words towards you had ever meant anything, that you’d liked him so much you’d dreamt up the possibility of his liking you back, too.

Your next lesson starts—the smile Jake gives you as he walks into History is so bright, it dissipates any clouds hanging over your head. You do believe in male-female friendships, but despite yourself, you can’t help but think that anyone in a relationship wouldn’t give someone else such a perfect, warm smile. It just wouldn’t be right. And so, you reason with yourself that simply walking to a class together didn’t mean two people were a couple.

For an hour, you stare at the back of Jake’s head, and although you do eventually come to the more sensible conclusion that a smile may just be a smile, you also think it's unlikely that he and Yunjin would be a thing. If they were, why would they hide it? Jake is so nice, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d exaggerated his enthusiasm upon seeing her. You’re sure you still have your chances. He even says see you tomorrow when class is over and slips out of the room to go to soccer practice. 

You feel like you’re walking on cloud 9 as you head from History to your next class—but when you remember that the next class is German, your mood drops significantly. Because the universe has it out for you, you and Jay are two of just ten students in your year taking German as your second foreign language option, everyone else having gone for either French, Japanese or Spanish. Your reasoning for it is that your dad has had an obsession with Germany since his year abroad in Bavaria, and twelve-year-old you had wanted to make him happy. Eighteen-year-old you regrets it slightly, but at least now your dad is ecstatic every time you tell him in German that the dinner he made was really tasty. Why Jongseong decided to take it beats you—he’s probably just insane.

But because you don’t really know anyone else in the class, and because it’s your last period of the day, you have no friends to run off with once the lesson is over, and he gets to bother you all the way from the classroom door to the staff parking lot. 

You’ve barely finished bidding Auf Wiedersehen to your teacher and Jongseong is already harassing you. “So, I didn’t take you as the type to be into guys like Jake Sim.” He says Jake’s name with such disdain, like he thinks he’s so much better than him, or like he hates him. It confuses you just as much as it annoys you; Jongseong didn’t seem to have a problem with Jake earlier at the library.

“And that’s your business, because…?”

You don’t look at Jongseong, who’s quickened his pace to keep up with yours, but you can feel the smirk on his face. It’s insufferable. “Oh, it’s none of my business. I’m just surprised, is all. You guys are so… I don’t know, different.”

You scoff. “If you think I’m not good enough for someone like Jake, I’d rather you tell me straight up, Jongseong. Or actually,” you say, looking up at him with a dry smile. “Keep it to yourself and leave me alone.”

He looks offended by your words, and it only adds to your already immense annoyance—he’s the one who just insulted you, so why is he looking at you with those stupid furrowed eyebrows?

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to.”

“No, Y/N.” He grabs your wrist and makes you face him, your stomach flipping in surprise that you quickly cover up. When he releases you, you cross your arms over your chest and wait for him to speak, keeping your eyes trained on a spot behind him. “I don’t think he’s too good for you.” 

This makes you look at him. You have to admit, your curiosity is piqued. Not like Jongseong to say anything even vaguely in your favor. “He’s just…” He sighs, searches for the right word. “Well, he’s just a bit of a dick, isn’t he?”

You freeze for a second. You’re so taken aback, your scoff comes out more as a laugh—Park Jongseong, king supreme of all dicks at this school, just called Jake Sim a dick?

“I’m sorry?”

He sighs again, as though you’re the unreasonable one. “He’s so… smug. A wannabe class clown and thinks he’s the shit because he’s on the soccer team. Have you seen the way he swaggers around school?”

You look at him with fake sympathy. “Jong, are you jealous?”

“Pfft. No way. I just think it’s a shame you keep going after these dudes who are not even worth your time, or whatever, so yeah…” he says, voice trailing off and looking down at his feet as he speaks. Hands in pockets and blank expression on his face, you can tell he’s trying to look cool, but the way he’s avoiding your gaze is a dead give-away. Even his ears have turned red. Jongseong is having one of those shy moments he has when he’s trying to be nice to you. Clearly, a simple act of kindness towards you is so hard for him that it radically changes the way he behaves. 

Like when you were fifteen and you just couldn’t get this stupid art project right, so he stayed behind for three hours after school with you, helping you draw and paint and cut and glue. 

Like when you were sixteen and your grandma just passed away, making you miss a week of school, and without a word, barely looking at you, he gave you a stack of handwritten notes of all the lessons you missed. To this day, you’re not sure how he did it—you weren’t in the same class that year.

Like when you were seventeen and Park Sunghoon rejected you in the middle of a crowded hallway. You’d run off to the girls’ bathroom to cry it out, but Jongseong quickly found you and spent the entire period cursing Sunghoon out instead of being in English, like you were both meant to be. He was uncharacteristically nice to you for a few days after that, never starting an argument for no reason or interrupting you when you spoke. When you snapped at him, telling him it only made you feel worse that he treated you differently, he smiled and told you how stupid you looked when you cried. It made you laugh more than it should’ve.

Like now, when he suddenly decides that Jake Sim is also a wrong choice for you. “Him and Sunghoon are good friends, you know that?” he says. “Birds of a feather, and all…”

So you know that Jongseong is not all bad. He has his redeeming qualities. He can even be nice sometimes, when he so wishes. But those moments are so few and far between that when he returns to his usual insufferable self, you wonder if you’d dreamt it all up. Which is why you can’t quite take him seriously right now. You roll your eyes and resume walking towards the parking lot, but of course, he continues to follow you. “Why do you even care who I go after?”

“I don’t-”

“You clearly do, otherwise you wouldn’t be bothering me like this.”

“Well, if all your attention is taken up by that douche, who am I going to go up against?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? That I stop arguing with you?” you say, disbelief clear in your voice.

“I’m offended, Y/N,” he starts, his sarcastic tone making you roll your eyes again. “That our little rivalry matters so little to you.”

“We’re not even the top students of our class, for God’s sake, we’re not fighting over anything.”

“I’ve actually got the best grades in German, thanks very much.”

“Whatever. I wouldn’t call it a rivalry so much as a mutual dislike of each other, because one of us woke up one day and decided to start going against everything the other said.”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

The exit to the parking lot now appears to you like the gates of heaven. You don’t even bother replying to him, thinking that he’ll just leave you alone now that you’re here. But as you step outside, he places himself in front of you and blocks your path, arms splayed out, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost.

“What are you-”

“Have you done the German homework for tomorrow?”

The sudden change of subject gives you whiplash. “What? No, Miss Schumacher assigned it just now-”

“Well, given your tendency for getting the word order all wrong, I can already tell you you’re not gonna have fun with it-”

You pinch the nose of your bridge, trying to calm yourself down before you lose what’s remaining of your mind. “Jongseong, were you actually dropped on the head as a baby? Go away. My dad’s gonna be here any second.” You try to walk around him, but he steps in front of you again. You peer up at him, undisguised annoyance in your eyes. Where are your dad and brother when you need them?

“I’m just saying, you’ll probably need help with it-”

“I won’t. And if I do, I’ll just use Google. Now get out of my way,” you say, and manage to duck under one of his arms.

Then you see it.

Well, actually, it takes you a second to understand what it is you’re seeing. At first, you think it’s one of those horny couples thinking they’re being really discreet by going to the staff parking lot to make out, when in reality they could be caught by any one at any time. They’re just far enough that when you do a double take, you realize that you do know the back of that head; that fluffy mop of brown hair. You sit behind it every History period, next to it every Maths and English period.

The girl is up against the wall, and you can’t really see her, what with her and Jake’s tongues being down each other’s throat and his body blocking her from your view, his hands on her hips, her arms around his shoulders. All the works. She’s wearing a cheerleader uniform, so she could be any of twenty girls—but you’re pretty sure only one of them wears a pair of white Vans with red love hearts on them.

Your heart sinks to your stomach.

You’re frozen in place when a whistle rings in the distance, and Jake and Yunjin separate, giggling to each other as they jog to wherever the sound came from. The sports field, probably. It’s Monday; the cheerleaders and the soccer team share the field for their practice. 

Jake spots you and Jongseong staring at them. He waves quickly, awkwardly at you, still smiling even when surprise coats his features. Yunjin tugs on his hand and just like that, they’re gone. 

“Y/N-” 

Jay’s voice fades in the background. You want to get away from this situation as quickly as possible—it’s embarrassing enough seeing the guy you like and thought you had a chance with kissing a girl that is arguably much more on his level than you are, but having Jongseong of all people not only witness it, but try to protect you from it, God knows why, makes it impossibly mortifying. You speed-walk to your dad’s car, huffing as you plop in your seat and slamming the door behind you. Your brother is already sitting in the passenger seat, and you don’t even argue with him about it. When you only give single-word replies to his questions, he shrugs and returns to playing Clash of Clans on his phone. 

The moment you get home, you fish a five cent coin from your purse, change into mud boots and grab your dog’s leash. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

After half-an-hour of trudging through leaves and soft ground, muddy from many a rainy November night, you and Pablo, your massive, fluffy airhead of a German Shepherd, find yourselves at the well in the middle of the forest. Ever since you were little, you have attributed magic powers to the well—not that anyone told you any sort of myth about it, but you remember reading a story about a magic well and decided that your well would be magical, too. You’ve never wanted to abuse its powers, so you’ve used your wishes conscientiously: things like getting a certain present at Christmas (when you were nine and the most important thing ever was getting the Monster High doll you wanted) or not stuttering during your presentation in class (when you really didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Park Sunghoon and his cool friends). Every wish you’ve made has come true. Whenever a faint voice of reason tells you that it’s because you always ask for very realistic things, you squash it and continue to believe in the well.

Because today, you’re not asking for something realistic. 

Today, you’re asking the well to show you the way to love.

You’ve grown up watching The Notebook and Pride & Prejudice. Your parents are high school sweethearts who are still, twenty-five years later, happily married. You devour romance novels and binge-watch Asian dramas, the more unrealistic and romantic, the better. You are convinced that soulmates exist, that love always finds a way, that it is there for anyone to see. That it can take form in a childhood friend, an archnemesis, a total stranger.  

But for some reason, it hasn’t shown itself to you yet, no matter how valiantly you’ve looked. 

You’re absolutely sick and tired of it. It is Jake kissing another girl, it’s Sunghoon leading you on for months and then rejecting you in front of everyone, it’s your ex-boyfriend-who-shall-not-be-named, your first love and first heartbreak, dumping you after a year and getting with the girl he had told you not to worry about a week later. At a party a few months later, he’d said, word for word, “At least I didn’t cheat on you.”

Coin lodged between your hands, you interlace your fingers and press your palms closely together, eyes screwed shut in desperation. “Hey,” you start simply, because you and the well are good friends. “It’s been a while since I’ve asked for anything, so I hope you can indulge me… This is gonna sound so cliché, but I’m really tired of getting fucked over by boys — excuse my French — and I just wanna meet the person who’s right for me, you know? Mom’s always reminding me that I’m only eighteen, and that I’ve got plenty of time to meet someone, but I just feel like if I don’t find someone now, I never will. And if I get fucked over again — sorry — I’ll just lose hope and write off men for the rest of my life. So help a girl out, will you? I’ll leave it to you how you wanna go about it, but… just show me that there’s someone out there. Please.”

When you open your eyes, you need a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. You toss the coin in the well. It doesn’t make a sound as it hits the bottom, as if it has been absorbed within the old brick walls. You know better than to question it—the well works in mysterious ways.

You’re quiet that entire evening, making up an excuse of a tiring day at school when your parents ask. Really, you’re just thinking about your wish, whether it’ll work, what might happen. You half-ass your homework—Jay was right, the German exercises throw you into a bout of despair, so you quickly close your textbook and bury yourself in your sheets, falling asleep hours earlier than you usually would.

--

For some reason, the first thing you notice when you wake up is that it’s still dark outside. It must be the middle of the night, you think. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re in a completely strange room.

Instead of your floral-patterned sheets, you find yourself covered by delicate silk sheets that your parents would never agree to buy you, no matter how adamantly you argued for the benefits of silk for your skin. If skincare experts online had convinced you of one thing, it was that silk would do wonders for your obstinate acne. You slide out of bed and find a pair of slippers on the floor, as if waiting for you. Even the pajamas you’re wearing are fancier, more grown up than the ones you have at home, a set composed of a pinstriped button-up and shorts. You look around, for some reason more surprised and curious than panicked. You could’ve been kidnapped, for all you know, but all you care about right now is this room. Rather than the pink and white walls that have surrounded you since childhood, covered with pictures of you and your friends, postcards of artwork bought at museums, and posters of your favorite movies, the walls here are beige and mostly bare, except for a painting of Japanese cherry blossoms above the bed and a family portrait on the opposite wall, above a wooden chest of drawers. 

The family portrait. A woman, a man, and what you can only assume are their children. They look like twins—two girls. Can’t be older than three years old. Out of the four faces, you recognize two of them. You recognize them far too well. One of them is yours, of course. You look slightly older, by a decade, maybe? You’re glad to know that you won’t fall off after twenty-five, like much of social media has led you to believe. 

The other face you recognize immediately, too, but it takes you a few seconds to truly believe it.

It belongs to none other than Park Jongseong.

A dry chuckle falls from your throat, as if someone has just made a very insulting joke at your expense and you have to pretend you find it funny. The well has a very odd sense of humor, you think. It’s probably just a prank, a magic-induced nightmare before the real thing. Except this already feels real, disorientingly so. The fabric on your skin, the picture, the room. It all feels too real, more tangible than any dream you’ve ever had.

You take a step closer towards the picture, as if looking at it harder will make Jongseong’s face fade into that of another man, the real man that will become your husband and father of your children. But alas, his features remain the same, frozen in time by the photographer’s camera. He, too, looks older—and not only does he not fall off after twenty-five, he becomes all the more handsome for it.

Is this how you find out that Jongseong was handsome all along? You stare at it until the familiar face becomes practically unrecognizable, like repeating a word so much it stops feeling like one. The straight nose, the almond-shaped eyes that seem to have softened overtime, whereas his jaw has remained as sharp as ever. Have his eyebrows always framed his face so perfectly? Has that dimple always been there? 

You look around again, and the bright numbers on the bedside alarm clock catches your attention. They read 9:57 p.m., but it’s the date that makes your stomach sink—today is still the 18th of November, but ten years later. You stare at the clock, at the unfamiliar number, a date so far into the future you can’t wrap your head around it. You could barely envision life after high school.

Downstairs, the sudden clang of pots and the sound of a tap running manage to rip your gaze away from the alarm clock. An overwhelming curiosity tells you to follow the noise. This is all a dream, so there are no consequences if you explore a bit more, right? 

You’ve never been in this house before, and you have no idea where your feet are taking you until you find yourself in the kitchen. It’s the only lit room in the house, and you’re creepily standing in the dark under a wide archway that connects the kitchen to what looks like the dining room. A man has his back to you, washing dishes and putting them out to dry on a rack next to the sink. He’s wearing a white cotton sweater, one that you feel you recognise without ever having seen before, and a brown apron is tied around his neck and waist. 

The first thing you think to yourself is Oh, his haircut hasn’t changed. In almost every class you share with him, Jongseong has made it a point to sit either next to you or right in front of you, so you’ve spent a lot of time glaring at the back of his head. You wouldn’t be surprised if he started developing two eye-shaped bald spots there. His hair is still short and spiky at the back and on the sides, longer on the top. When he lets it grow too long, it sometimes covers his eyes, and he obnoxiously keeps having to push it back like a heartthrob in an 80s movie. 

Something like a memory flashes through your mind, blurry like those images you aren’t sure came from a dream or from real life. Your surroundings are unclear, but Jay’s face is nestled against your neck, your hand in his hair. You can feel the softness of the close shave against your palm as clearly as if you were touching it right now. You ask him why he’s always kept it that way, and he replies that it’s simple to maintain. Then in classic Jay fashion, he adds, “And it makes me look awesome.”

Another memory, a clearer one, this time—this definitely happened. It’s halfway through sophomore year, a random Tuesday, and Jay walks in, holding his head high and looking smugly around himself. The bastard got a new haircut. Long gone, his messy, unorganized flop of black hair that looked like it didn’t know what it was doing; hello, sleek undercut. It accentuates all of his best features, which is terrible news for you. You had never even thought of Jongseong as someone having “best” features, but now they’re being thrown in your face. His nose. His jawline. His smile.

It ruins your day, and a few after that. You can’t quite put it into words when your friends ask what’s wrong at lunch—or rather, you don’t wanna face the humiliation of uttering something along the lines of “Park Jongseong looks good with his new haircut, and it’s bothering me.”

Here, it’s a familiar sight in an unfamiliar environment, the back of his head. Without really thinking, you take a step forward. Jongseong starts at the sound of your slippers against the marble floor tiles, but his face relaxes into a smile when he sees you.

“Oh, it’s just you, honey. I thought you were sleeping.”

Just you. As if the two of you being in the same kitchen is normal. You guess it must be, to this version of Jongseong. To him, you’re not the annoying girl he strives to best in every class—you’re honey. 

“I was,” you say, walking around the kitchen island to join him by the sink. Something in you needs to look at him, really look at him, maybe pinch yourself or pinch him to be sure you’re not going crazy. Maybe you caught wafts of some ancient algae that lives in the well and made you hallucinate?

“I left a plate out for you in case you woke up. Made your favorite. The girls weren’t so happy, seeing as it’s the third time this month,” he says with the special kind of smile reserved for parents talking about their children. The girls. A mention so casual, so obvious, your heart hurts. “But I think I got it really right this time,” he continues. “Honestly, it might even be better than the original.”

He goes back to washing the dishes and you watch the sponge in his hands as it scrubs away tomato sauce, the soap as it runs from the plates into the sink. A knot forms in your stomach, something like a deep sadness that overwhelms you all of a sudden, and tears form in your eyes, threatening to fall any second.

When you haven’t budged in almost a minute, Jongseong starts to say, in an intimate, almost worried voice, “Aren’t you going to eat, honey?” but when he sees your wet eyes, the tremble in your lower lip, he shuts the water immediately and dries his hands. With his thumbs, he wipes away the tears that have started falling from your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he whispers.

You can’t reconcile the man in front of you with the image you have of the boy that torments you in every class you share. You can’t reconcile the genuine concern in his voice with the snarky tone you’re met with every day. And yet, they respond to the same name, their features are identical, if not for the years that separate them, the stress of adulthood on one and the carefreeness of youth on the other. 

Your body reacts automatically to the soft touch—never in a million years would you let the Jongseong you know come near you like this, but here, nothing feels more natural than his hands on your face, your shoulders, your hair, as though they’re just as much his as they are yours. You realize the emotion in your stomach is not sadness—tears fall, but you’re not sad. You’ve never felt as home as you do now, and if one thing romantic novels have taught you, is that this must be love.

You look up at the man in front of you, eyebrows furrowed as you search his face for confirmation or some sort of an answer. There’s a tremble in your voice when you speak next. “I just… I think I love you, Jongseong.”

He chuckles. “Well, we established that a while ago, didn’t we? What with getting married and having kids. But I’m glad you still feel that way.”

The mention of marriage and children doesn’t faze you nearly as much as it should. You’ve only got one thing on your mind. “Do you love me too?”

You expect him to laugh—not out of cruelty, but because the answer is so obvious, it almost doesn’t deserve to be answered seriously. Like when your brother asks if he can have one more of your cookies and you tell him you’ll cut his hand off. Sometimes you think it’s easier to be sarcastic than be unabashedly nice to someone. Especially with Jongseong, whom you don’t expect kindness or patience from, you wait for him to stay something like, “No, that’s why I’ve stayed with you these eight years.” 

So when instead, he says, “More than anything on this Earth,” voice low and vulnerable, tears flow even harder. 

“Sorry, it’s probably just my period,” you say through sobs, although you have no idea where in her menstrual cycle this version of you is.

Jongseong chuckles again, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You do get emotional around this time.” And you cry more, because you can’t believe someone other than your mother knows you so well that they know what your period symptoms are.

Rubbing soothing circles against your back and whispering soft words in your ear, he holds you for as long as you need to calm down. When you finally do, he tells you to go sit on the couch, that he’ll finish up the dishes then heat and bring your food for you. You think you’ve got your emotions under control, but the moment you bite the pasta, cooked to perfection with the most succulent tomato sauce you’ve ever had, sweet with a little kick of spice and a generous amount of parmesan cheese, tears start to fall again as if you had an endless stock of water behind your eyes.

“This is so good,” you mumble.

Jongseong smiles, his gaze full of affection miraculously directed at you as he tucks away strands of your hair so they don’t get in your eyes or in your food. “I’m glad, baby.”

You react to the nickname viscerally, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can even understand them. “You haven’t called me that in ages.” You widen your eyes at yourself, wondering how this was something you even knew. But when you look at Jongseong, all he does is smile more.

“You’re right, I haven’t. I guess I was reminded of college. You cried all the time back then. As much as it pained me, I can’t say I wasn’t happy to be the one you always came to for comfort.”

You haven’t been through college yet, so you should be unable to tell whether this truly happened or not—and yet, the memories of the body you’re in all confirm what Jongseong just said. But it feels impossible—going to university with him, letting yourself be vulnerable enough with him to not only cry in front of him but let him comfort you. Whatever could have happened in the years between the present you know and your time at university for things to change so drastically?

But before you can make sense of any of it, Jongseong speaks again. “Why? Do you like it when I call you baby?”

Your stomach flips. Heat rises to your face at his words, the tone with which he said them, the things he was alluding to—you know that having children means you’d popped your cherry at some point, that you’d had sex with Jongseong specifically, but to be confronted with the fact was something else. 

“Maybe,” you mumble, and proceed to stuff your mouth with pasta so that you can’t incriminate yourself further.

He puts on a recent movie, something you should arguably be paying attention to, since you’re literally getting a glimpse into the future of cinema—you could steal the idea, go back to your present and sell it for an outrageous price.

But Jongseong’s presence next to you makes it impossible to concentrate on anything but him. The warmth emanating from him, the scent of his perfume envelop you, give you a sense of just how real this all is—despite how comfortable being with him like this feels, you’re still not convinced you’re not just in an unsettlingly vivid dream. You take one of his hands in yours, examining each finger, turning his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm, smoothing your thumb over his nails—it’s an undeniably human hand. Warm against yours, slightly rough. He’s started using hand cream, you think, all these winters when his dry hands would crack because of the cold coming up to your mind, teenage Jongseong’s hard refusal to wear any sort of cream to protect himself. Memories bob up to the surface: fixing his cracked hands up with a plaster, your tear falling on his hand, the both of you in your school uniforms in what looks like the school infirmary; awkwardly gifting him some hand cream the Christmas of that year, not looking at him as you hand him the small package. Saying, “It’s a waste of plasters for something that could be fixed so easily.” Him treating you to warm, spicy tteokbokki because he felt bad for not having gotten you anything, even though this was the first time either of you had ever given the other one a present.

As your fingers trail up from his hand to his forearm, his shoulder, his jawline, more memories flood your mind. Clumsy first kisses; squabbles of the kind you were already used to; lazy mornings in bed; hours spent in your kitchen or his, before you shared one, cooking dinner together; the way you felt when he proposed, a feeling so intense remembering it is almost unbearable now. Your eyes and fingers examine his face in detail—even though you’ve seen him almost every day since the start of high school, this feels like the first time you really perceive him. The delicate bow of his lips, the strong nose, the softness in his eyes when he looks at you. Your heart beats uncontrollably as you hold each other’s gazes, but you feel inexplicably relaxed at the same time, two nearly opposing realities fighting each other inside of you—one in which you and Jongseong regarding each other with such affection is unthinkable, the other in which it is daily routine.

“Movie not to your taste?” he asks, voice gentle, breaking you out of your stupor.

“Hm?”

He nods towards the TV screen. “I see you’re not paying much attention.”

“No. I have… things on my mind.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly growing on his lips. “Yeah?” You think your heart might actually flatline when he brings you in closer to his chest, and, face buried in your hair, says, “You know, I’ve been thinking that the twins might want a younger sibling to play with soon enough…”

You’re not sure whether he actually wants a third child or if this is weird dirty talk that apparently turns parents on—all you know is that this is something future you will deal with, not high school senior you. 

You whip up your head at him, eyes wide in panic that he mirrors immediately. “Or—or not. Later. Later?” You nod fervently, and the worry dissipates from his handsome features. “Okay, later,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head before returning his attention to the movie. 

A couple hours later, you’re laying in bed in the dark together—you can tell Jongseong is falling asleep by the regularity of his breathing and his stillness, but you’re wide awake. You don’t know how you’ve managed to spend all this time with him, acting like the wife he knows and loves, without imploding. But suddenly, the idea of waking up in your childhood bed, surrounded by your pink-and-white walls, going downstairs to be greeted by your brother and parents, sends a wave of panic through you. You haven’t felt this comfortable in a long time—Jongseong’s arm draped over your waist, the fact that you could reach over and feel his skin against your palm if you wanted. You don’t want to go back to a time where you hate him. In fact, you don’t know if you could hate him after this.

“Jongseong?” you say softly, the syllables unfamiliar on your tongue, even though the name rings brusquely through your head for the best part of every day.

It takes a few seconds, but he reacts eventually. “Hm? Did you just call me Jongseong?” he murmurs sleepily, as if you’d just called him Robert or Christopher and not the name his own parents gave him.

“Yeah.”

He chuckles. “Now that’s something you haven’t called me in ages. Makes me feel like you’re mad at me,” he says, turning over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your skin, and one of your hands comes up reflexively to feel the softness of his close shave.

“...Jong?” you try.

“That’s a step up, but not quite what I want,” he mumbles.

You’re silent for a few moments. “Honey,” you say tentatively, voice a mere whisper.

“That’s better.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Will you be here in the morning?”

“Mh-hm. It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“No,” you say, feeling out of breath. “I mean, will you be here?”

You’re aware you’re not making much sense—and yet, Jongseong needs no further explanation. “Of course, baby,” he starts, voice soothing. “I’ll be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day afterwards. ‘Til death do us part, remember?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too,” you find yourself saying, and, more importantly, meaning. It’s the last thing either of you says before falling asleep.

--

Tears are streaming down your face when you wake up the next day. When you open your eyes, pink and white obnoxiously stare back at you. The clock reads 7:12, just three minutes before your alarm goes off, and unfortunately for high school you, the night hasn’t given in to Saturday morning—it’s Tuesday, and you have to go to school and act as if you hadn’t just had the weirdest, most realistic dream of your life. You don’t even get a weekend to shake this weird feeling in your stomach off, you’re going to have to face Park Jongseong full force. At least, this will become your friends’ favorite bit for the foreseeable future.

They’re already sitting in the classroom when you get there, animatedly chatting to each other. You plop down in your seat in front of them, and when they see the sullen look on your face, ask you what’s wrong.

“Did you wake up during the night to play Hay Day again?” Kazuha asks, eyebrows knotted with genuine worry.

“I’m not that person anymore,” you reply. “No, I just had a really weird dream. More like a nightmare, really. It feels like I didn’t get any sleep.”

“What was it about?” Sunoo asks.

Your eyes dart back-and-forth between the two of them as you brace yourself for their reactions. Not wanting anyone else to overhear, you lean in conspiratorially. They mirror you. “I was married to Park Jongseong,” you whisper. As expected, they burst into laughter immediately, and you lean back in your seat, crossing your arms in annoyance. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s very funny,” Kazuha retorts. “It’s ironic, even, considering how much you hate the guy.”

“Exactly!”

“But I guess even you know how ridiculous it is that you hate him, if your brain is able to imagine yourself being married to him,” Sunoo adds, shrugging. “It’s a good reminder that you’re literally the only person in this school with a vendetta against him.”

Kazuha nods energetically. “He picked up a pen for me, once. He’s a nice guy.”

You look around the room in panic. “Keep it down, will you?” you hush, despite the fact that no one is paying any attention to the three of you. You sigh, resolving yourself to telling them the entire truth. “But guys, I’m scared. I think this might be a sign.”

Their eyebrows perk up. “A sign that your hatred of him has actually been disguising a crush this entire time?” Sunoo asks, feigning innocence.

“No—what? Where did you get that idea?”

“Nowhere. Go on.”

“Whatever. Come here,” you say, gesturing for them to huddle again. “It’s the well.”

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’ve actually lost it,” Kazuha says, fascinated by your stupidity.

“I’m not going to tolerate any well slander, this is serious. I just wanted it to reassure me that there was someone out there for me. And then I had that stupid dream.”

Kazuha and Sunoo exchange a look like they’re parents trying to announce to their daughter that she’s adopted. “Y/N…” Sunoo starts.

“This is crazy. Like, love philters and writing Park Sunghoon’s name a hundred times are one thing, this is…”

“Crazy,” Sunoo said, nodding along. “This is crazy. There’s no other word for it. Your eighteen years of boyfriendlessness have finally caught up to you.”

“You guys don’t get it. What about that time I asked it to give me a good grade on our Literature exam and I literally came first out of our class? Or when I told it I missed Jung Hae-in and his military discharge announcement came the next day?” you say, aware that the look in your eyes is only confirming their suspicions—but you need someone to believe you, or at the very least understand you.

“One, you’re a good student. Two, that was pure coincidence,” Sunoo explains.

“But girl, if you want to marry Jay, that’s fine. You’ve got our blessing,” Kazuha says, shrugging.

“Yeah. He picked up her pen, once,” Sunoo adds.

“And you know, you guys clearly have some sort of chemistry.”

You scoff. “If you think that him refuting my every word and finding every opportunity to make fun of me, then yeah, I guess you could say we have chemistry.”

“You guys have banter,” Kazuha says as if it’s obvious.

“Oh, please. Banter is cute. I want to kill him every time he opens his mouth.”

Your friends both roll their eyes. “While I understand that most men are better off staying quiet—no offense, Sunoo—”

“None taken.”

“You have to admit Jay is not nearly as insufferable as you make him out to be,” Kazuha says.

“Are you kidding me? He’s always acting like a child. Rubbing it in my face when he gets a better grade, trying to start arguments for no reason, sucking up to teachers, stealing my erasers, for God’s sake, you’d think he’s twelve. I know that I’m not on the majority's side, but I seriously cannot understand how other people tolerate him at all.”

Sunoo sighs. “Because he’s nice to everyone. He never hesitates to help people, he’s even funny, sometimes, and—well, look at him.” He nods his head towards the door, and when you turn around, Jongseong is indeed walking in the classroom. “He’s not a bad-looking boy.”

“Gosh, Sunoo, maybe you should marry him,” Kazuha says, but since you laid your eyes on Jongseong, you’ve stopped listening.

You feel weird. You look at him, and you feel weird. It’s the same feeling you had during your sleep last night, a feeling that paralyzes you from head to toe, that starts in your stomach and spreads to your entire body, weighs you down in your chair. 

“Hey, guys,” he greets simply, and his voice wraps itself around your heart and squeezes. You can’t do anything but watch him as he takes his seat next to you, plopping his bag on the table and taking his notebook out. He looks at you, watches you watching him, then swivels around in his chair.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asks your friends.

“She had a dream that she m—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Zuha, if you want to live to see another day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replies, a satisfied little smile on her lips.

Despite yourself, you’re still staring at Jongseong, trying to figure out what the hell these emotions are that are raging up a storm inside of you. Instead of ignoring you, he turns to face you, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm as he stares back at you, smirking. “What’s up, Y/N? Has it finally dawned on you how devastatingly handsome I am?” he asks, and you frown, because he’s not so far off from the truth.

“Please, kids, it’s 9 a.m., don’t flirt right in front of us,” Sunoo says, despair in his voice.

“She’s the one who started it,” Jongseong replies, still looking at you, his smirk growing.

For some reason, this startles you out of your trance, and you look away from him like you’ve been burned, preoccupying yourself instead with your notes for this class. “In your dreams, Jongseong,” you mumble.

“More like in yours,” Kazuha says, her and Sunoo giggling.

“Zuha!” you exclaim. Jongseong looks at you with raised eyebrows, and with his infuriating capacity to put two and two together, you’re scared he’s figured out what she meant, but you’re literally saved by your teacher who walks in at that moment and starts the class. 

The second the bell rings to signify the end of the class, you hurriedly pack your things and mutter an excuse about needing the bathroom, trying to get as far away as possible from the boy whose all-too familiar scent had messed with your thoughts all class, whose every brush of his arm against yours had made your heart race uncontrollably.

--

It hadn’t just been a dream. It couldn’t have been.

Just like there was no doubt the 28-year-old Jongseong from last night had once been the annoying boy you knew, the 18-year-old Jongseong was sure to one day become the husband of your dreams. A devoted partner and father, his presence comforting, his good looks indeed devastating, unwavering.

There was no mistake to be made. The well had worked its magic.

Whether you liked it or not, you would end up marrying Park Jongseong. You, of all people; him, of all people.

Was there already something of your future husband in the boy that snickered when you mixed up your genders in German class, or would he one day spring out of nowhere? Apparently, you’d be around to find out.

But for now, how to act around him? It felt unfair that you were privy to this knowledge of your shared future while he was ignorant of it. Blissfully, perhaps. You couldn’t imagine that he would rejoice much at this news.

Your mind is somewhere else the entire day. At lunch, your other friends try to get the thing that’s obviously bothering you out of you, but Kazuha and Sunoo are there to tell them not to bother. You’d needed to tell someone about it, but you don’t want the entire school to know about your marital premonitions. The two knuckleheads you call your best friends are already doing a good enough job teasing you about it—”There’s your husband, Y/N,” when Jongseong walks past; “So have you thought of baby names? Kayleigh and Mackayleigh, perhaps?” unsolicited, during Physics. You turn around to check on the culprit — because yes, Jongseong is the culprit here, you, a mere a victim — and when he notices you staring, nods at you as if to say, What’s your problem?, trying to look threatening in his white lab coat that’s three sizes too big and protective goggles.

It doesn’t help that Jongseong has a way of hovering around you. Even in classes in which your teachers assigned the seats for you, he’s never far from your seat. The two of you sit next to each other in German, your last class every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. But today, the seat next to you is empty—what would’ve been a cause for celebration just yesterday is now a source of worry. You’d seen him just two hours ago in your previous class together, so where the hell was he now? He’s lucky that your teacher is an old German lady who always spends the first ten minutes of the lesson rambling about something in dialectal German no one understands but nods along to anyway. When he walks into the room, five minutes late, she just says, “Hallo, Jay,” and continues with her story. It’s about her first school trip to Berlin when she was fifteen and the country was still divided. You think.

He winks at you when he takes his seat and you roll your eyes. You pretend to listen to your teacher for thirty seconds, then hit him gently with your elbow. “Where were you?” you ask without looking at him.

He doesn’t answer immediately, probably surprised you initiated a non-hostile conversation with him for once. “I was just hanging out with my friends, something you clearly wouldn’t understand.”

And your friends wondered why you hated him?

“Still having imaginary friends at eighteen is really concerning, Jongseong. You should see someone about it.”

When you glance at him, he’s already looking right at you, smiling. You’ve never felt so conscious of your side profile. 

“Why? Were you worried?” he whispers, kicking your foot with his.

You look at him, horrified—where the hell had he gotten that idea? How was he so spot-on? You scoff, trying to diffuse the tension inside yourself. “No.”

He kicks your foot again. “I was five minutes late and you started to worry?”

“No. Stop.”

“I didn’t know you cared about me so much, Y/N.”

This time, you give him a harsh look, one that lets him know you really mean your words—“Stop it.” Finally, he relents, getting the assigned homework out now that the teacher has actually started the lesson. Your face softens—he looks hurt. Guilt tugs at your heartstrings.

Despite what you might say, you like the way things are with Jongseong. If some people always need to be crushing on someone, you always need to have someone you perceive as an enemy—it was Na Jaemin in elementary school, because he’d once made fun of your incapability to climb the monkey bars; Shin Ryujin, in middle school, for kissing your crush during a game of spin-the-bottle at your own birthday party; Park Jongseong, since freshman year, for simply existing. Your reasons for disliking him are trivial, you’ll admit. You weren’t sure you could even place a finger on what had first triggered your disdain towards him—one too many awful jokes, one too many times raising his hand in class and rattling off a perfect answer, then looking around himself proudly, one too many roars of laughter heard throughout the entire cafeteria. The fact that no one else seemed to be bothered by him only added to your aggravation. He just got on your nerves, and it seemed that you openly showing your dislike of him — him, who was so used to being loved by everyone around him, pampered by his family, praised by his teachers, popular among his peers — was enough to make him dislike you, too. So, after a few failed attempts at trying to be your friend, because Jongseong was unable to not be friends with everyone he met, he didn’t simply give up. 

If he couldn’t be your friend, then fine, he’d be your enemy.

At least, that’s how it appears to you, still now. It’s never gone dangerously far, but if there’s an opening to tease you or get on your nerves, he’ll do it. Not passing you the ball during soccer, or conversely, only aiming for you during dodgeball, not sharing his textbook with you when you forgot it unless you beg, loudly clearing his throat when you speak in class. And, lately, pouring salt on your wounds in the form of reminding you how impossible you and Jake Sim are. His motto must be if there’s a will, there’s a way. And when it comes to making your life hell, his will is infinite.

Everything is upside-down now. The question of how your relationship can possibly go from this to that obsesses you. It feels like you’re more capable of sharing a funeral, dying at each others’ hands, than a wedding. 

“Jong, your textbook.”

He squints at you. “Funny how I’m Jongseong when you hate me, Jong when you need a textbook,” he says, sliding his book closer to himself.

“It’s not my fault your name is a mouthful,” you retort, trying to pull it back to the middle of the table, but he’s quicker than you.

“Then maybe you should call me Jay, like everyone else on Earth.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Now give it here. Please?” you ask, mustering your best smile. Any other teacher would’ve scolded the two of you by now, but Ms. Schumacher is peacefully going on about the importance of word order and punctuation in the German sentence, oblivious to her two students bickering in the back row. Jongseong usually never sits at the back of the classroom—only here.

He gives in, smiling back, but there’s something behind it, something that tells you nothing good is brewing in his brain. “Only because you’re so pretty.”

Normally, this kind of remark would’ve warranted a slap on the arm or an array of insults, but if today is anything, it is not normal. You look at him like you’ve been stung, visions of your not-dream coming to you in flashes like you’re the titular character on That’s So Raven—the affection in your husband’s eyes, the kindness in his words, the sincerity in his smile. Again, you’re left to wonder if this man is already taking root inside of the boy next to you, if Jongseong’s future capacity to love you presently exists in his heart.

Does your future capacity to love him already exist in your heart?

You watch as his smirk softens into a grin, your flusteredness and lack of a response clearly amusing him, then as he circles the exercises Ms. Schumacher is assigning for the lesson. She seems to have forgotten there was homework due—Jongseong will be sure to remind her of it quickly.

He kicks your foot again, tells you to focus. His ears have turned red.

You wonder if those capacities haven’t existed from the start.

--

As much as you love a good friends-to-lovers story, characters hiding their feelings out of fear of ruining the friendship have never failed to frustrate you — just tell her, you dummy, it’s obvious she likes you too — and yet, you’ve never related more than now.

Whatever it is that you and Jongseong have, you don’t want to lose it. It adds entertainment to your otherwise average life. 

“Good thing she didn’t pick on you while we went over the homework, ‘cause you clearly put zero effort in. And I wouldn’t have helped you, even if you’d asked, by the way.”

You hum absent-mindedly as you put your notebook and pencil holder in your bag. Are you sure that these are even your feelings in the first place? Just because the well put a silly idea in your head doesn’t mean you have to believe it like it’s scripture. If what you saw is real, then it will happen in its own time. Things don’t have to start changing right this instant.

“Gosh, Y/N, what’s up with you today? You’re so boring,” Jongseong continues, following you out of the classroom. 

“Just tired,” you reply. Wouldn’t it be unnatural if you were to radically alter the way you behave with Jongseong? Love should come about organically. Sure, his presence has always provoked some kind of reaction within you, but that’s usually been annoyance. Whether he’s stealing the fifth eraser you’ve bought that month or running on the soccer field, beads of sweat running down his temples, hair sticking out everywhere, victoriously smiling when his team scores—you’re annoyed. Whether he’s sticking up his hand higher than yours or going to the school dance with Ahn Yujin—you’re annoyed. When you learned that she’d been his neighbor since infancy and that she had a boyfriend, who went to another school and only trusted Jongseong to take her to the dance, you were still annoyed—this time at yourself for feeling even the tiniest bit relieved that nothing was going on between them.

And this — his quick steps trying to keep up with yours, his dumb story about yogurt coming out of Heeseung’s nose today at lunch when they were laughing too hard — yes, you’re still annoyed. But you realize you’re not annoyed at him.

You’re annoyed at how he makes you feel.

“Y/N?” he says, but you’re too deep in your thoughts, only vaguely registering the sound until he repeats it, louder this time, and grabs your hand, making you abruptly stop walking. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice. “You’re barely listening to me. I mean, it’s not like you usually really do, but you’d have told me to get lost, like, five minutes ago now…”

He chuckles self-deprecatingly, but despite his words, you’re focusing on something else yet again. His hand on yours, his loose hold on your fingers. Your brain is yelling at you—hold his hand, hug him. It’s like there are still traces of the 28-year-old version of you you visited yesterday, urging you to behave like her and not 18-year-old you. 

So, the well had let you know that you need not look much further to find what you wanted. Here it is, in the form of a boy you have convinced yourself you hated, and hated you, and yet, he’s holding your hand, asking you if you’re okay, worry knotting his eyebrows together. 

Hold his hand. Hug him. Instead, you retract your hand, let it fall limply by your side. Jongseong’s eyebrows shoot up.

He’s so close, the supposed love of your life. You don’t know how to reach out to him.

For now, you smile. “Get lost, Jong.”

--

you guys how the hell do i act around jongseong now that i know our fates are romantically intertwined

kazuha i think not treating him like the number one public enemy would be a good start

you so what… be nice to him? how do i do that

sunoo oh my god y/n when she has to treat another person like a regular human being

you he’s not just another person!

sunoo okayyyyy i see you little miss repressed feelings

you i hate u

kazuha just don’t roll your eyes at everything he says anymore and don’t start arguments for no reason

you he’s the one who starts them… but okay i’ll try

--

“Let’s pair up for the reading analysis today. You can stay with your deskmate or pick a partner, I don’t mind as long as you get the work done. I’m talking about you, Chaewon and Yuri. This is English class, not a gossip session.”

The second your English teacher has finished speaking, Jongseong swivels in his chair. “Let’s partner up, Y/N?”

“What about me?” Jake asks, eyes darting back-and-forth between the two of you.

“You can partner up with Minju,” Jongseong replies, pointing to the girl he’s usually seated next to. “Look. You guys will be great together. Say hi, Minju.” Minju waves shyly at Jake, braces on display as she smiles ecstatically. It’s not everyday that she gets to talk to one of the most popular guys in school.

Jake reluctantly switches seats with him, glancing back at you and Jongseong who just grins at him, fake friendliness plastered on his lips, until he turns around again. Your new partner’s smile softens and reaches his eyes when he looks at you. “Hi.”

You have to look away—you feel your face burn under his gaze. “Hi, Jong.”

He tilts his head. “What? Do you hate me so much that you can’t even look at me now?” he asks, and you can’t tell whether he’s joking or genuine.

You frown. “I don’t hate you.”

“Oh? That’s a recent development.”

“I guess,” you mumble after a few seconds. Is it really? You suddenly can’t remember if you ever really hated him, or if you’d exaggerated your own feelings.

His smile widens. “Well, good. I mean, you were going to have to realize at some point that I really am funny, smart, endearing, handsome-”

“Back to hating.”

“Let’s start the assignment.”

You agree on reading the passage first, but you realize halfway through that not a single word has been absorbed. “Hey. Why did you switch seats with him?” you ask, whispering so as not to be overheard.

Jongseong shrugs. “I thought you wouldn’t want to work with him, considering…”

“Right.” You’re silent again, but only for a bit. “What’s it to you?” you mumble. 

He scoffs. “Sorry for trying to be considerate.”

“That’s not—”

“Let’s just focus on this.”

His sudden coldness vexes you. You know you should let it go — don’t start arguments for no reason, and all that — and you know it’s childish, but you can’t help yourself. You have certain reflexes you’re not particularly proud of when it comes to one Park Jongseong. “Let’s just focus on this,” you repeat, mocking his grumbling tone of voice and shaking your head like a puppet.

He glares at you. “Can you not act like a toddler for once?”

“Can you not be a dick for once?” you bite back.

“Y/N, Jongseong, I’m sure you’re having a fascinating conversation on the use of chiaroscuro in the text?” your teacher asks, a look of warning on his face.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, embarrassed.

“Yes, so much chiaroscuro,” Jongseong mumbles, resting his cheek on his knuckles. When the teacher has turned away, he kicks your foot. “See, you’re getting us in trouble.”

“Do you even know what chiaroscuro is?” 

He hesitates. “That’s not the problem here. You are.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“Y/N, Jay, final warning.”

“Sorry,” you both say at the same time. With one last glare at each other, you finally get to work.

So your plan to start getting along with Jongseong isn’t in full-force yet. On the drive back home that afternoon, you reassure yourself that these things take time. When the moment is right, the two of you will grow closer.

--

But increasingly, it feels as though the right moment will never come.

Two months have passed since your visit to the well, and things between you and Jongseong have not changed. Not really, at least.

You still bicker like cat and dog — it goes without saying that you’re the cute puppy and he’s the heartless cat — and he gets as much on your nerves as ever, especially now that you know that the potential to be nice to you, to love you, even, exists somewhere inside him. Somewhere deeply hidden perhaps, but somewhere nonetheless. Of course, after telling yourself that what must come will come of its own accord, you haven’t done much to change the dynamic between the two of you. But if you used to see your retaliations against him as necessary to your survival, you now find some sort of enjoyment in them—some might call it Stockholm Syndrome, you perceive it as a step in the right direction. You’ve followed one of Kazuha’s pieces of advice: you don’t roll your eyes at him anymore, simply because you don’t feel the need to. You argue with him with a smile on your face, his attempts at insulting or annoying you have started to make you laugh.

He doesn’t say anything but seems to gladly welcome this change. If you get a lower grade than him on a test, he doesn’t try to stick the knife in further, but genuinely offers to go over it with you later. If you give in after two hours of tearing your hair out over a German exercise and text him for help, he doesn’t make fun of you. If he says something particularly arrogant or makes a really bad joke, all you need to do is give him a look, and he’ll mumble an apology. 

Could it have been like this the entire time? you wonder, watching him across the schoolyard as he and Heeseung hunt for Pokémon. Just a couple months ago, you would’ve scrunched your nose at the sight, making fun of him for his childish interests. Now, you notice the way he laughs, audible all the way to where you sit with Kazuha and Sunoo, the way he jumps excitedly and points at things only he and his friend see, and all you feel is endearment.

“Look at you, look at that,” Sunoo says as he hits you on the forehead with his metal spoon, startling you. He tuts. “You’ve got love dripping from your eyes, sweetie.”

“Sunoo, that’s disgusting.”

“Love? I know.”

“No, your spoon. Your saliva’s all over that,” you say, and all he does is eat another mouthful of his yogurt while staring wide-eyed right at you. When you look back at Jongseong, he’s high-fiving Heeseung. You wonder which creature he’s caught now. In the library yesterday, he spent thirty minutes showing you every single one he had captured so far instead of revising for the upcoming Physics test.

“Yeah, we know you’d like someone else’s saliva more,” Kazuha chimes in, and the two of them snort.

“It’s not like that,” you say, biting into an apple slice.

“Oh yeah? What’s it like, then?” Kazuha asks.

“We’re… becoming friends,” you say, but you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince more.

“Y/N, I’ve had to watch the two of you giggling to yourselves in the library one too many times to believe you’re friends. I know your homework’s not that funny,” Sunoo argues.

“Friends can giggle with each other!” you exclaim, but your friends are inflexible.

“I would tell you to get yourself together if you giggled at me like that,” he says.

“I saw you twirl your hair the other day,” Kazuha adds.

“I never—When?!”

She shrugs. “The other day.”

You deflate, crushed under your friends’ accusations. “I wouldn’t twirl my hair…” you mumble. You decide to busy yourself with your apple slices, not even bothering to find out what Kazuha and Sunoo start snickering and elbowing each other about.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets, making you look up. Jongseong smiles at you and steals an apple slice from your tupperware as he sits down next to you, Heeseung across from him.

“Hi, Jong,” you say, sitting up straighter. You offer a piece of fruit to Heeseung but he declines, saying he doesn’t like apples without peanut butter.

In front of you, your friends exchange a look, and you’re immediately terrified of what they’ll do next. Leaning in, they place their elbows on the table, and Kazuha starts them off. “Jay, you and Y/N know each other pretty well, right?”

Jongseong glances at you, eyes wide. “Uh, sure.”

“Have you ever noticed her, say, twirling her hair?” Sunoo asks, tilting his head innocently at the poor boy by your side.

You’ve never seen him look so confused. “Um, yeah, she does that when she’s concentrating on something, sometimes…”

They lean back. “Huh,” Kazuha says, studying Jongseong’s face.

“Interesting. Very interesting,” Sunoo says, slowly nodding.

You glare at your friends. “See, that’s different,” you tell them. “I was concentrating on something, not doing… whatever you guys had in mind.”

Jongseong looks at you. “What did they have in mind?”

You answer before either of them can dig your grave any deeper. “Nothing. It’s nothing. We were just having a stupid conversation.” You muster your most convincing smile, and the subject is finally dropped.

No one says anything for a few moments, until Heeseung decides to speak up: “You should’ve seen Jay earlier, Y/N. He caught this super rare version of Pikachu earlier, it was awesome.”

“Dude…” Jongseong murmurs.

“What?” Heeseung asks, his enthusiasm quickly dissolving into confusion. Jongseong just shakes his head. Thankfully for all of you, the bell rings then, and you head to class. The three of them walk in front of you while you and Jongseong fall back a step.

“Why were you guys sitting outside? It’s freezing today,” he asks you. Walking side-by-side like this, you can’t help but notice the inches he has over you, the broadness of his shoulders in comparison to yours.

“They turned the heat way too high in the cafeteria, so we came outside for some fresh air,” you explain. He’s right, the air is chilly today—it’s a few days into December, and the temperatures have been accordingly low.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Your heart skips a beat. One of the side effects of not being at each other’s throat anymore was that you got more and more often to be privy to this side of Jongseong—attentive, considerate, kind. What you once thought were his moral attempts at not being so mean to you all the time, you found out was actually his real nature. He wasn’t a prick who was sometimes nice, he was a nice person who turned into a prick with you. Whether the fault lay on him or you was another debate.

“No, I’m alright,” you say, but your body decides to betray you and makes you sneeze three times in a row.

“Bless you,” Jongseong says, laughing. “Here.” You try to stop him, pushing his hands away, but he takes his gloves off and forces them in your palms.

“I’m going to be inside for the next four hours, Jong, I’ll be fine. Keep them.”

“No, it’s okay. Just so you can warm up quicker.”

You eventually give in, putting the gloves over your hands, laughing at the extra fabric that hangs off the tip of your fingers. But when you look at Jongseong’s now-bare hands, something catches your attention. Stopping in the hallway, you grab one of them, examining the cuts on his knuckles. “You need to wear hand cream, Jong, your hands are too chapped.”

He lets you turn his hand over, smooth over his skin, do the same thing with his other hand. “Men don’t wear hand cream,” he says, a grin on his lips.

You burst out laughing. “I think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Seriously, though, I don’t like the way it feels. Too sticky.”

“You just need to get a quick-absorption one.” Then, you make the terrible mistake of looking up from his hand and meeting his eyes—you gasp silently, his gaze and soft smile transporting you right back to that night, the images of 28-year-old and 18-year-old Jongseong mixing into each other, becoming indistinct from each other. Your gaze drifts down to his lips — chapped, too, when they’re usually plumper, rosier — and his hand, still in yours, balls into a fist. The second bell rings and you both take a step back, eyes meeting again for a brief moment before looking down at the floor. With uncharacteristically shy, embarrassed words of parting, you make your separate ways to your next classes.

“That was beautiful, Y/N,” Sunoo says, waiting for you by the door, and you walk past him without so much as a glance.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

--

sunoo jay and y/n almost kissed earlier

kazuha WHAAAAT

you KIM SUNOO.

kazuha WHEN?????

sunoo right before class after the lunch break y/n was sooo embarrassed afterwards lol

you we did NOT almost kiss you’re talking out of your ass

kazuha i can’t believe i missed this fml

you YOU DIDNT MISS ANYTHING NOTHING HAPPENED

sunoo be serious u guys we’re standing inches apart

you were* and no we weren’t

sunoo oh stfu it was autocorrect i saw it w my own eyes y/n… you WERE literally holding his hand and staring into those beautiful eyes of his

kazuha sunoo…?

sunoo what can’t a man acknowledge another man’s objective attractiveness if i was y/n i would’ve folded the moment i saw him

you literally one of the first times he talked to me was to make fun of my handwriting

sunoo yeah he’s on his tsundere shit i fw it

you …

sunoo anyways zuha you shouldve seen it when the bell rang they practically leaped away from each other and u didnt know what to do w yourselves afterwards likeeee it was so obvi what you both were thinking of

kazuha cuuuute

you i resent these accusations.

sunoo istg if u dont kiss him next time i will

kazuha ???

you SUNOO?

sunoo WHAT

--

Something happens a few days before the start of winter break.

Ms. Schumacher is absent, gone off to Germany to visit her family there—she has enough seniority in the school that they let her abandon her responsibilities as a teacher once in a while. A week is too short a period of time for them to bother finding a substitute. It’s usually your last class of the day, but you have to wait around for your dad to be done working, so while most of your classmates have gone home early, you sit with about six other people in the unsupervised study room, absent-mindedly jotting down tid-bits of dialogue for your new story idea, too preoccupied with Jongseong’s absence to really pay attention to anything else. It’s fifteen minutes after the hour, but he’s nowhere to be found, although you know for a fact that he takes those weird Molecular Gastronomy cooking classes your Chemistry teacher offers for extra credit every Thursday after school, so he should be here. And anyways, if he’d gone home, he would’ve texted you something like, Have fun sitting around for an hour, I’m gonna go do awesome stuff with Heeseung, even if awesome stuff meant playing Mario Kart or drinking Sprite and holding a two-person burping contest.

You’re so engrossed in your own thoughts that you pay no mind to the sudden ding of a phone in the room, followed by some gasps and heated whispers. The exchanged words go through one ear and out the other—There was a fight? In the locker rooms? It must be bad if they were sent to the nurse before the principal… Huh? Over who? So he took both of them on? Damn, I didn’t know Jay got like that. He seems so well-behaved.

Your head whips up at the mention of your friend’s name. “Jay? Did something happen to him?” you ask out loud, the whispers dying down immediately as everybody stares at you. 

Gaeul, who was in your class last year, is the only one who answers you. Holding up and waving her phone, she says, “They say he got into a fight.”

Jongseong? A fight? It sounds like a practical joke. He admitted to you he once started crying watching Heeseung playing Call of Duty, it was so violent. You shake your head. “He-he did? With who?”

Gaeul and the girl next to her exchange a concerned, almost guilty look. “Jake and Sunghoon.” The crease between your eyebrows deepened. You don’t need to ask anything else before she adds, “They’re at the nurse’s station. It sounds pretty bad…”

That’s enough for you to leap out of your chair and run to the nurse’s station. It seems the news has spread impossibly quickly among your year group—even Kazuha and Sunoo are already blowing your phone, asking you if you’ve heard, if you know how Jay is. You ignore them, reminding yourself to text them back later, until one message from Sunoo in particular catches your attention: It apparently started because Sunghoon said something about you, Y/N. They’re saying Jay got angry.

The nurse is busy on the phone when you get there, her back to the entrance, so you’re able to slip in unnoticed. You head to the adjoining room where the beds are, all three of them taken—you walk by Sunghoon first, his arms crossed over his chest and pointedly not looking at you, then by Jake, who calls out your name. You glare at him and pull on the white plastic curtain that separates his bed from Jongseong’s. They’re already going to hear you, you don’t need them seeing you on top of that. 

Jongseong sits up with a grunt when you appear at the end of his bed. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, and not in a good way, for once—his left eye is swollen and circled by a deep purple bruise, shiny with ointment, there’s a cut on his cheek, his lower lip is busted, his right hand is wrapped in bandages. “Oh my God,” you whisper as you help him up, voice breaking. He stares at his hands, jaw locking when you gently place one palm on his good hand, the other on the side of his face, moving it this way and that so you can take a better look at his injuries. He winces, and you let go, resting your hand on his shoulder instead. “What the hell got into you?” you whisper vehemently, unable to decide if you’re worried or angry or both as tears form in your eyes.

He tries to shrug, but even that seems to hurt. “Don’t shrug, Jongseong, tell me what happened.”

“I’m Jongseong again now?” he says, attempting a smile, but only one corner of his lips rises.

You sigh. Even in this state, he has to be a smart-ass. “You’re Jong when I need a textbook, Jongseong when you get into stupid fights,” you reply, and he smiles wider but immediately winces, hand coming up to the cut on his lip. You notice that his hand is still riddled with cracks, and whether they’re due to their dryness or to this fight doesn’t matter—”Wait here,” you say, and go rummage through some drawers for plasters. “She forgot some spots.” You feel Jongseong’s eyes on your face as you patch him up to the best of your abilities.

“I don’t want to tell you what happened. I’ll do the job of hating these idiots for the both of us, so don’t concern yourself with them,” he says, apparently not caring that the idiots in question can hear his every word.

He keeps his promise—you never hear another word from him about the cause of the fight. 

Later, you find out through other means, namely Sunoo’s questionably remarkable ability to unearth any and all gossip, that in the locker rooms after Phys Ed, someone had started Jake on the topic of Yunjin, who had been recently revealed as his girlfriend. They’d apparently kept it secret because it was just fooling around at first, and only later had gotten serious enough for them to parade around the school as the couple. 

It had been an unremarkable conversation until Jake said, “You guys know Y/N from our class? She saw us in the staff parking lot once, and I was sure we’d be busted then. But she didn’t tell anyone.” And just like that, the conversation turned to you, someone who was usually never a topic among these boys, jocks, soccer players, “the kind of people who peak in high school and still have a superiority complex at forty,” as Sunoo describes them. 

He has a harder time explaining what happened next, can’t quite look you in the eye as he recounts what was said. “So, this is what they say, apparently someone said that you used to be obsessed with Sunghoon, then with Jake, and Sunghoon said you… Well, he said you were pathetic, that asshole, and that you had been so easy to lead on, then Jake joined in, saying the same things, basically, how funny it was seeing you so obviously in love with him when he would never give you a chance…” He looks at you worriedly, but you tell him to go on. “And so that’s when Jay got up and just straight-up punched Jake in the face. And while Jake was trying to figure out what happened, Jay punched Sunghoon, and then they both got on him, pushing him, but when he wouldn’t stop throwing punches, they started fighting, too. I think they all got some good ones in before the other boys were able to break them apart and the P.E. teacher arrived…”

But that would be later. Now, sitting with Jongseong in the nurse’s station, tears falling onto the plasters you place on his hand, nothing matters but him. You don’t need the details—he’s hurt, he got hurt over you, you feel as though every cut on his body may well have been done by your own hand. You’ve never felt so guilty for something you didn’t do. Your voice trembles when you speak; you’re unable to look at him, at his busted eye. “I just don’t want you to get hurt for me.”

Without missing a beat, he says, “What else would I get hurt for?”

You can only meet his eyes for a split second. Even like this, he manages to look at you with the same softness that has haunted you since the night you met 28-year-old Jongseong, that has rendered all thoughts of anything other than him meaningless since the day your gaze drifted down to his lips just weeks ago. “Jong…” is all you can mutter as you look down at your hands holding each others’, your lips trembling.

He raises his bandaged hand, still not used to his dominant side being ineffective for now, then lowers it when he realizes. Clumsily, he pats your hair with his left hand. “Don’t cry, please…”

Jake’s head pops out from behind the curtain. “Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

“Not right now, man,” Jay quickly interrupts. Jake pathetically disappears behind the curtain again.

“Just promise me you won’t do this again.”

“Y/N…”

“Promise me,” you say, more demanding this time, sticking out your pinky finger. Jay, hesitant, looks between your outstretched finger and your face a few times, but eventually gives in.

The nurse, upon coming to check on the boys, catches you with Jongseong and chases you out immediately. You sulk back to study hall, where everyone’s head perks up the moment you walk in. “They’re okay,” you reassure vaguely, and unenthusiastically answer their many questions. It’s only a few minutes until the bell rings, and you’re free to go then.

--

jong so… guess who got a five-day suspension

you you idiot what did your parents say?

jong they’re not happy i have to do all the household chores for a month

you boo-hoo

jong not sure why i came here thinking i’d get some comfort…

you … are you feeling better?

jong a little bit the nurse gave us some really strong painkillers but i’m okay because there’s a pretty girl that’s going to drop off the homework for me after school every day :)

you oh did you ask chaewon to do that?

jong um no i was talking about you ..if that’s okay

you haha i know i just wanted you to say it straight up

jong ykw maybe i should just ask chaewon

you i’ll see you tomorrow jong!!

jong :) see you tomorrow pretty 

 --

The months that separate your return to school and graduation come and go in the blink of an eye. Jongseong can’t come to school the last day before the holidays or the first four days after, and he’s grounded in-between. Things change bit by bit with every day you visit him—To give him the homework, you tell his parents, although there isn’t much to do when the semester isn’t in full swing, and you could’ve easily sent him pictures. The first time, you spend more time scouring the pictures and trinkets in his room than actually talking to him, and awkwardly give him a half-hug when he tells you he won’t be able to hang out at all during the break before practically running out of his house, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute from the innocent contact. By the fourth time, you lie together on his bed and talk about your plans for college, your hands sitting centimeters apart on the navy sheets. You haven’t dared touch his hand since that day in the nurse’s station.

You’re window-shopping with Kazuha when you spot the hand cream you had seen yourself gifting Jongseong in your well-given vision. Buying it is one thing, actually giving it to him is another, an awkward, stuttery situation in which the wrapping done by the store employee suddenly seems over-the-top and out-of-place. But Jongseong seems to like it—it’s the last day of his suspension, his black eye is now a yellow-ish color, he can smile without risking splitting his lip in two. He applies it immediately, tells you he’ll make sure to wear it every day until the end of winter. You find yourself wishing there was something you could give him for every season so he wouldn’t go a day without thinking of you. When you leave, he bashfully thanks you for making sure he doesn’t fall behind and says he’s excited to see you at school the next day. You hardly know what to do with yourself, so you squeak out a “me too” and slip out the door.

His first day back is a Friday. It starts with Mathematics, a class in which you sit by each other. You remember the first week of classes when Kazuha and Sunoo had ran to sit with each other, expressly because they knew that if he saw you were sitting alone, he’d take the seat next to you, just to better torment you all year. You’d resented it then; it couldn’t make you happier now. Your body is humming with nervous energy, your foot tapping relentlessly against the tiled floor. When he appears in the doorframe, you wave at him as if he’d forgotten his seat in three weeks of absence. His elbow brushes against yours as he sits down.

Between the two of you, friendship blossoms over these months. To the detriment of everyone around you, you continue to bicker as you always have, but it’s now clearly done out of habit, out of affection, even, than out of actual dislike of each other. He and Heeseung slowly integrate your small group of three, and before you know it, it feels as though there have always been five of you. Together, you welcome spring.

In January, to thank you for helping him to pick out his mom’s birthday present, Jongseong treats you to some tteokbokki, which you said you’d been craving all week. He orders the spiciest one, then has to take a sip of water between every bite. You laugh at his teary eyes and red face while you devour the bright red rice cakes easily. 

In February, he makes a show of giving you and Kazuha and Heeseung and Sunoo some homemade chocolates, saying it’s a friend thing. You find out that evening that the others each have five in their box—there are twenty in yours. It’s one of the things that makes you second guess what sort of feelings he has for you. For years, you’ve been convinced he harbored strong feelings of disdain for you; now, he seems to enjoy your friendship. You’re scared to read too much into anything, because if Jongseong is well-liked throughout school, it’s for a reason: he’s nice. To everyone. Even to you, too, nowadays. But if nice is giving five chocolates, what is giving twenty?

A sudden realization hits you in March—Jongseong appears at your door, drenched from the rain, a bag of your favorite snacks in hand. “You weren’t at school today. I had to find out you were sick from Kazuha,” he says as if she was a random classmate of yours and not your best friend, as if he should be the first to know about these kinds of things. Your mom rushes him in, finds him so charming in the five minutes they converse that she decides he should stay over for dinner, and as you watch him laughing with her, you think, I haven’t thought of 28-year-old Jongseong in ages. I’ve only thought of you. And although you can trace the start of your feelings to that dream-like experience you had, you can now say with confidence that it’s not the only reason for them.

College application results come out in April, right on his birthday. The five of you celebrate together at an American-style diner, gorging yourselves on crispy bacon and chocolate chip pancakes. Kazuha is going back to Japan, almost a decade after moving to South Korea—”I’m gonna miss you guys, but I miss takoyaki and my grandma more right now.” Heeseung has been accepted into the Engineering department at the country’s top university. You, Sunoo and Jongseong are all heading to the same place: you for Screenwriting, which you’ve known since you were one of the winners of the scholarship contest last October, Sunoo for Communications, whatever that is, and Jongseong for European History and Literature with a minor in German, that freak. It’s a good university, and it’s not far from home. The way Jongseong tells you about his acceptance sticks with you: he doesn’t say, They accepted me, too, or, I’m going to the same university as you. He says, We’ll be together.

May is filled with afternoons at the park when you should all be studying for exams. Your mom keeps asking when she’s going to see “that wonderful boy” again. Your friendship with Jongseong has given him new ways of teasing you—after four years of near-kleptomaniac tendencies, he’s finally stopped stealing your erasers and has instead started to let his gaze linger on your face, to call you pretty when you least expect it, to tuck your hair behind your ear. You hate it most when he asks you whether there’s something from your romance novels or movies that you want him to recreate. “Is there a field big enough nearby that I can walk through at the break of dawn, Mister Darcy-style?” he’ll say, or “I’ve always wanted to try that upside-down kiss from Spider-Man. It’s a classic, really.” 

Summer comes early in June. You need to bring a two-liter water bottle and a hand fan to your exams, and you’ve never felt such relief as when it was all over. After endless pictures with your parents and siblings, just your parents, just your siblings, then Kazuha and Sunoo, together, then separately, then with Heeseung and Jongseong as well, Kazuha forces you and Jongseong together, watching with a smile as he shyly wraps an arm around your waist and you awkwardly throw up a peace sign. It’s your first picture of just the two of you.

In July, you and Jongseong unlock a new first: saying goodbye. He’s leaving to stay with his American family as he does every summer. You show up at his house the day before at four p.m. “to help him pack,” you say, but it’s Jongseong, and he finished packing two days ago. So instead, you sit on his desk chair, he on his bed, and you fight back tears. “You’re coming back, right?” you ask, like he’s leaving to go to war and not Seattle. Amusement and affection flicker in his eyes. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t throw four more years of being a pain in your ass away, would I?” he says, and you smile, because you know it’s going to be much more than four years.

But he doesn’t just leave you with a few nice words. Avoiding your gaze, he hands you an envelope. Inside is a single ticket, a two-month membership for your city’s arthouse cinema that you can only go to when they have student deals or when your parents have had enough of your begging. You can’t even begin to imagine how much this must’ve cost. “Jong…” you murmur, in awe at the thin slip of paper between your hands. “This is incredible. Thank you so much.”

Jongseong looks down at his feet, fighting a smile as he kicks the invisible rocks that obviously litter the floor of his bedroom. “I thought you’d get bored without me around, so, that way you can entertain yourself, I guess… And if you run into any film bros next year, you’ll have seen as many pretentious movies as them.”

You burst into laughter then, and, without thinking, wrap your arms around his neck, thanking him over and over again. It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms around your waist and says it’s no big deal.

As you walk down the path from your house, he calls out your name. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says.

You smile. “Never.”

So, he’s not here for summer. Kazuha is working in her parents’ ramen restaurant to make some money before leaving, even Heeseung leaves two weeks into July for Seoul to visit some relatives there and get accustomed to life in the big city. You only get to laze around with Sunoo, but even he eventually leaves for his grandparents’ house by the sea, making you promise you’ll come visit him at some point, otherwise he’ll “die of boredom.” 

It’s August now, and your brain and body alike buzz with restlessness. You go to the cinema almost every day, making the best of your subscription. If you’re not going around your house looking for spider webs with your vacuum cleaner, you’re riding random bus lines and discovering parts of your town you’ve never set foot in before. If you’re not making your way through your never-ending pile of unread books, you’re creating your own stories, finally taking the time to properly outline and draft the one-line ideas you’ve had sitting in your Notes app, preparing yourself for the start of your degree. Your mind is taken up with love stories. From Romeo & Juliet to Dirty Dancing to Book Lovers, you can’t get enough of the genre. You become particularly obsessed with stories involving time travel, rewatching After Time and Lovely Runner like they contain some precious knowledge. By the end of the month, you’ve turned your life into an eight-episode TV series—a desperate girl makes a wish on a star only to discover she is fated to marry the one boy she hates most. You know you’d watch that. You send Sunoo and Kazuha the pilot, and after calling you insane numerous times but also heaping on praises, Sunoo says this: lol your going through jay withdrawals.

It shakes you so much you’re not even compelled to message back you’re*.

But he’s not wrong. The more you let yourself admit it, the more you realize how true it is: you miss Jongseong. You text once in a while, you’ve even stayed up late talking on the phone a couple of times, but you miss him, his corporeal form, having his gaze on you, having the possibility but never the courage to touch him. Every day, there’s something you want to tell him about. The cats huddling around a young neighborhood kid as he pours milk into a bowl, the clearance sale at your local library, most books for one buck only, the actor from an 90s Hong Kong film you swear has the exact same smile as him. You don’t want to bother him, so you write letters instead. Some you send, some you don’t—the ones you keep hidden in your drawer usually hint too obviously at your feelings for him. Some of them don’t just hint and contain lines of your declarations: I miss you, everything I see reminds me of you, I want to check that your bruises have healed completely even though the last trace of them faded months ago. You keep these letters a secret, even from Sunoo and Kazuha, who would never let you live down such woebegone, down bad behavior.

You do it because it feels good, getting all of your feelings out on paper. You’re a romantic at heart, so you’re prone to over-exaggeration when it comes to things like these—but everything that you write remains based in truth. You’d started with a postcard of your hometown, jokingly writing, Don’t forget where you came from. How is it over there? and he’d actually replied with a postcard of his own, filling it from top to bottom. You easily went from these small postcards to multiple pages of stream-of-consciousness-like writing. You think it’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done—although you’re not sure he feels the same way, considering he still writes to the German pen pal Ms. Schumacher had assigned him in your first year of high school. No one else’s correspondence had lasted more than four months because she’d immediately forgotten to make sure you kept in touch regularly.

I ran into Jake Sim at the city library, you write one day. You’ve replied to everything in his latest letter, so you’re now catching him up on your recent adventures. He was checking out some books about Linguistics, of all things—he bought me bubble tea afterwards and told me that the injury he got last April was actually a relief. Did you know his father was a big name in soccer here? Apparently, he never wanted to be a soccer player that badly, and he wants to do Linguistics and Social Anthropology, who would’ve guessed it. He’s like Troy Bolton if High School Musical was about Humanities and not singing. Anyways, you probably don’t want me to go on and on about him, so I won’t, but we did talk about that fight you guys had back in December. He apologized for it, to you and me both, although he didn’t go into much detail — Sunoo is still the only one who’s had the balls to tell me exactly what happened, and he wasn’t even there! — and I was reticent at first, but he seemed genuine. He said he didn’t even hang out with Sunghoon or Yunjin or any of those people anymore, that it was only out of convenience really, and that he hopes starting university will be like turning over a new leaf. Well, he could be full of shit, who knows. As I sat there listening to him I wondered what it was I used to see in him. He’s nice enough, but we only spoke about him for the entire hour. He asked me no questions that weren’t “and you?” so it was a bit exhausting. 

But it got me thinking about your fight again. Reflecting on it now, I can say that it was a turning point for me in my perception of you.

You look at your words, smiling to yourself—this is one of the times where you find yourself erring from the topic at hand, instead indulging in sappiness and nostalgia. You write about how your opinion of Jongseong has changed over these months, how it wasn’t seeing him as your husband in all those years that had really shaken things up, but rather that day in the nurse’s station, the frightening colors around his eye, his attitude like it was natural that he would get hurt like this for you. You write, Have I been wrong about you this whole time? I thought you harbored the same negative feelings towards me as I had you since the moment you’d laid eyes on me, but all of a sudden, here you were, bloody, bandaged hand holding mine. Even with your busted eye, you looked like an angel next to all that white in the nurse’s station. I’ll never forget your words that day. Would you really not get hurt for anything else, Jong?

“I’m going to the Post Office for a package soon, Y/N. Are you done with your letter?” your mom calls from the staircase landing.

“Give me five minutes!” you call back.

You forage through your drawer for a new sheet of paper and re-write your letter, making sure to leave any compromising parts out and fold both letters into neat squares—one that will cross the seas and reach Jongseong, one that will live out its days in the darkness of your crowded drawer. You’ve run out of envelopes, so you go look for one in your parents’ office. Your mom calls out your name again, impatient to leave — if she sends her package off before twelve p.m., it will get to the receiver tomorrow, and she’s hell-bent on getting perfect five-star Vinted reviews — so you hurriedly put your letter in the envelope, close it, stamp it, and write Jongseong’s name and address on the back. The other letter you absent-mindedly throw in your drawer with the dozens of other letters in which you’d crossed the line.

--

A few weeks later, like an apparition, Jongseong stands before you again.

He’s tanner from months under the Washington sun, from afternoons spent at his family’s lake house, on their boat. His hair is slightly shorter and suits him even better; you don’t recognize any of the clothes he wears. He grumbles as his mother goes back-and-forth between hugging him, staring at him worriedly and reminding him to call at least twice a week while his father unpacks the trunk. “I’ll only be a thirty-minute train ride away, Mom,” he says. 

He’s still Jong.

You moved in yesterday, and you’re now waiting for your new roommate, who, after five minutes of deliberating whether she should bring a jacket or not and finally decided against it, changed her mind the minute she stepped outside. 

It’s been two months since you last saw him. Shortly after sending your letter, you’d gone to stay with Sunoo’s grandparents for a week, just a day before he was set to come back from Seattle. Amid packing and other preparations, you haven’t had time to see each other. Is it okay if I respond to your letter in person? I think I’ll be too busy these two coming weeks, he texted you. You replied that it wasn’t a problem, you told him which dorm you’d been assigned and found out his was the one next door.

When he notices you staring, he does a double-take. You wave at him, and even from this distance, you see the blush that creeps up his neck and takes over his face as he shyly waves back. You’ve never seen him like this—he’s always been either arrogant or friendly, never… flustered. He makes a motion as if to say, I’ll text you, and heads inside the building with his parents and all of his luggage.  

Indeed, he texts you some hours later while you’re sharing a piece of strawberry and matcha cake with your roommate Liz, whom you find out is half-German—Jongseong and your dad would probably love her for that simple fact. Some of the first things she’d asked you were what your astrological signs were and whether you wanted her to pull tarot cards for you when she was all done setting up her side of the room. Between that and her dyed blonde hair, you’d felt comfortable telling her all about Jongseong, the well and your dream. Unlike your skeptical and sarcastic friends, she’d nodded along to your every word, a serious expression on her face. “A sign from the universe,” she’d called it, and she gasped in excitement when his name appeared on your screen.

He sends you a link to a freshers’ week event, some potted plant sale happening on the main campus square, and asks if you’re free to go with him tomorrow. I need something to liven up that depressing room, he writes.

So that’s how you find yourselves among green plants of all shapes and sizes, searching for one that’s both low-maintenance and appealing to the eye. You’re glad that you have something to actually do—if you were just sitting at a café and having a conversation, you’re not sure you’d be able to stand the awkwardness. You’d chalked up his behavior on the day of his move-in to nerves, or to surprise upon seeing you so unexpectedly. But apparently, it wasn’t a one-time thing. He keeps clearing his throat as if he were sick with some cold, won’t look into your eyes for more than split seconds at a time, and in complete opposition to his usual confident, deliberate speech, talks in a quick and disorderly manner. And he’s either really caught a cold, or his ears have just permanently turned red. You ask him if something’s wrong a couple times, but he violently shakes his head, says, “No, what could be wrong?” then looks at you as if you might tell him what’s wrong.

When you’re alone again, you wonder what on earth could have happened over the summer that could make him change his behavior with you so radically. Did something happen in Seattle? Maybe he met someone there and doesn’t know how to tell you. Maybe you went overboard with your letters, he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, he wants to let you down easy but doesn’t know how to tell you. Or maybe—maybe you got impossibly pretty during those two months, and absence does make the heart grow fonder, as they say, and every thought you have about him, he has about you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you.

In any case, he’s hiding something.

The theory that he might want to stop being friends soon falls flat—the invitations to other freshers’ events keep coming, be it free wine & pizza taster sessions from the Wine Society, karaoke nights with the Taylor Swift Society or a shark movie marathon with the Bad Film Society, and he never turns you down when you tell him there’s something you want to visit in this new city of yours, even when the thing you want to visit in question is a bakery you have to queue in front of at seven a.m. if you want to get a pain au chocolat. In your defense, they turn out to be the best ones you and Jongseong have ever tried—although, to be fair, neither of you has been to France.

Things progressively return to normal. He’s able to make eye contact for more than three seconds again, he listens carefully and laughs along when you tell him about your week by the sea with Sunoo, he fills you in on what Heeseung’s been up to. One thing remains different, however—when you throw quips at him, he usually would’ve delighted in coming up with a better, wittier response, but now, he’ll roll his eyes at best, look at you amusedly and stay silent at worst. “Won’t you even entertain me?” you ask him once, to which he replies that you’re doing a good job entertaining yourself as is. 

Instead, he becomes more earnest. As per usual you badger him with questions like Aren’t I so pretty right now? or Isn’t my outfit so cute today? to get a reaction out of him, and if during your high school days he’d either fake a puking sound or look you up and down and grumble I guess, he now smiles and simply says Yes, you are, Yes, it is. It seems impossible to keep track of his attitude: one day, he’s one thing, the next, he’s another person entirely. 

It annoys you. You take his changing demeanor to mean that now that he’s a college student, he won’t indulge in your childish squabbles anymore, as though he was above all of that now, when just three months ago he was stalking your parents’ Facebooks to find unfavorable photos of you from when you were thirteen and using them as reaction pictures in your friends’ group chat. You think of your graduation day, of the box he’d given you, all done up in wrapper paper and a bow—he had filled it with every eraser he’d stolen from you over the years, he’d even gone so far as to date every single one of them, from the second of October freshman year to the twenty-eighth of November of your senior year. You didn’t count them, but there had to be at least a hundred. At the time, you’d just thought it was funny—but what if the gesture had meant something deeper than you’d realized? What if he was marking the end of something with that box? No more playing around, we’re adults now. But classes have barely started, you don’t know your way to the off-campus library, you aren’t a different person to who you were just weeks or even months earlier. Why is he acting like he is? You look at him, and you see the boy whose fault it was you had to buy a new eraser every week—who knows how many books you could’ve bought with that money. But when he turns to look at you, too, and your eyes meet, you’re suddenly assailed with the memories of that night, the kind eyes, the soft smile. 

Does his future capacity to love me already exist in his heart?

Your heartbeat speeds up and you have to look away.

--

From your letters, it seems to be much hotter back home than in Seattle—you talk of sunburns, of afternoons spent inside with the fan on maximum speed, of ice melting instantly and watering down your Coke Zeros, whereas Jay can walk around the city pleasantly and needs to bring a jacket if he’ll be out until late after sundown. And yet, as he reads your latest letter, his skin prickles feverishly, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He’d excitedly torn the envelope open the second it arrived in the mail, heart thumping as he counted the pages, at least three more than usual — he was always happy that you wanted to talk to him at all, so the fact that you had this much to tell him sent him over the moon — but he would have never expected what was awaiting him inside.

With a smile on his face, he read your replies to the questions he’d asked you last time, your reactions to everything he told you about, the live Mariners game, the lake house, the rides on the boat. He imagined you as you sat at your desk in your room he’d only seen once, when you’d held a small party for your birthday and he, having arrived first, was honored with a tour of your house. He imagined your smile, the way you played with your hair when you focused on something, wondered whether you pondered every word before you wrote it down as he did or whether you poured your thoughts out onto the page without hesitation. His smile faltered when Jake Sim’s name appeared in your neat handwriting, but he was relieved to find out your description of him now was miles away from the one at the start of the school year. 

Then you start writing about him. Him, Park Jongseong, and your words startle him so much, it’s like he’d forgotten he was the recipient of this letter in the first place.

But it got me thinking about your fight again. Reflecting on it now, I can say that it was a turning point for me in my perception of you. 

He’s been lying comfortably in his bed, but he sits up the moment his eyes take in these words. If there is one topic the two of you have practically never broached, it’s this exactly: your relationship, the changes it’s gone through this past year. Except for a few mentions made in jest here and there, you’ve always conveniently ignored the fact that not so long ago, you were at each other’s throats. At least, you were at his throat, and Jay let you be, let you think the hatred went both ways, when in reality all he wanted was to keep you close one way or another. To him, anything was better than indifference.

But here you are, writing about how you feel about him, not in hints, not in jokes, but actually telling him black and white what goes through your head when you think of him—in other words, everything he’s been dying to know ever since he met you and especially ever since you started warming up to him a few months ago.

I have never told you about that night because I know it’ll just be more fodder for you to endlessly tease me, and I haven’t even mentioned it in these letters that I write and don’t send. Sometimes I debate the ethics of it—if I know something about our futures, isn’t it right that you know, too? But then again, I still hesitate whether what happened was real or not. As with anything, the more time passes, the more I forget about it. What kind of cheese you’d put on the pasta, the movie that played in the background, whether the stairs were carpeted or wooded—these details have evaded me by now. All I clearly remember is your face and how I felt, seeing it then, seeing it the next day at school, ten years younger, the same exact person in what felt like a different universe. As much as I tried to deny it, I know now that it was no coincidence—I was talking about it with Sunoo and he said that sometimes, we want something so badly, we conjure it up for ourselves. He’s not always a dimwit. And he’s right, the kind of love I felt from you in that dream — or not-dream — I’ve yearned for it ever since I first watched Pride & Prejudice, the 2005 film to be precise, when I was ten. But with you? That was what I couldn’t believe at first. I don’t think I need to explain why—you were there, I think you knew how I felt about you for over three years, it’s not like I tried to hide it.

Then you turned up and the sight of you was enough to bring back all the feelings from that dream. You must’ve wondered why my behavior with you switched so suddenly—well, a glimpse into marital bliss is sometimes enough for a girl to make some changes in her life. Yet I valiantly tried to convince myself that any flutter of my heart around you was due to this stupid dream, to a version of you my brain had conjured up because it was starved for affection, and you happened to be at the forefront of my mind, even if not for the right reasons. But it was no use. I had entertained the possibility that this future was really mine, and I couldn’t go back to seeing you as the boy who annoyed the living daylights out of me.

But Jong, if you weren’t you, I would’ve been confused for a week and then I would’ve gotten over it. I stayed confused for a while, and everything you did only served to confuse me further. I started to notice you more, to see you for who you were and not for the idea I had constructed of you in my head, I stopped taking note of only the things that reinforced this idea. And that changed everything.

Let’s get it out of the way: as much as I hate to admit it because it proves you right, I saw that you are indeed devastatingly handsome. It devastates me every time I have to look at that stupid, wonderful face of yours. And if aging is something you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ve seen you at 28, and let’s just say that your jaw somehow only gets more chiseled. I’ve realized that you don’t just participate in class to be a prick — except for when you contradict me in Literature, I know you only do that to piss me off, and yes, it works — but that you actually care about what we learn and that you don’t want the teacher to feel like they’re talking to a classroom full of students made out of bricks. I’ve also realized that you didn’t specifically pick German to be the one subject where you must beat me at all costs, you just actually really like German, even if I’m still undetermined as to why. And I can finally admit to myself—you are funny. Sometimes. There were so many times I had to stop myself from laughing at one of your idiotic puns because I could not bear to give you the satisfaction. That feeling when the worst person you know makes a funny joke, and all that. And as much as I’ve mocked you for it, I do actually like your laugh. I like that you’re only loud when you laugh, or sneeze, or get excited over something. You don’t scream, you don’t get angry, and I think that’s a lot for a boy fresh out of puberty. Or for any boy, really. 

But above all, you’re kind, Jong. I think it’s the best thing about you. I think it’s the best thing anyone can be. I see it in your patience with Heeseung when he starts one of his rants better reserved for Reddit than real life, I see it in the way you took Sunoo and Kazuha in stride, even though they’re a bit rough around the edges sometimes, I see it in the way you guide the freshmen at the start of every year, when all anyone does is complain about them, I see it in the gentleness with which you let down the girls who confess to you, even the more persistent ones. I used to think they were crazy, but I understand them more than ever now. I also used to think that all those kindnesses meant that the ones you occasionally showed me meant nothing more than that—occasional kindnesses. You were just a nice guy, occasionally so to me. But you sort of ratted yourself out when you gave me those twenty chocolates for Valentine’s.

Or, really, what made things clearer was that fight in December. I guess I was wrong—you do get angry. I remember a thought I had at the time: just when I think I know you, you do something to shake it all up. You punched two of the star soccer players of our school in the face because they said some mean, unimportant things about me. Thinking about it now, I still don’t understand it. Was it another one of your acts of kindness? 

And then I thought of those other times you helped me out. Do you remember them—the art project, the handwritten notes after my grandma passed away, you tearing Park Sunghoon a new one in the girls’ bathroom. I’m sure there are many more that I’ve dismissed simply because I did not want to see you in any other light than the one I’d decided to shine on you. 

Maybe I’m rewriting the past here, but I’ve been thinking about something lately. The theme today seems to be honesty, so I’ll lay myself bare and tell you something I haven’t told anyone yet, not even myself. The more I write, the more I become aware of its truth. I like you, Jong. I think I have for a long time, longer than either of us thinks. Maybe that’s why I kept buying erasers.

I don’t have the best memory — I suspect iron deficiency, it runs in my mom’s side of the family — but I do remember this. The first time I saw you. I haven’t noticed your face changing in real time, but I’m sure I’d laugh at how much of a baby you looked back then. Although I didn’t fare much better, I’m sure. Well, you’re the one that has all these embarrassing pictures of me, you freak, so I’m sure you could tell me. Moving on… 

I found you really cute. You were chatting to the person next to you, maybe it was Heeseung, I didn’t look properly—I only looked at you. Don’t laugh at me. It was the first day of high school, there was a nervous energy in the air, but you seemed happy to be there. You know I don’t have hordes of friends like you do, I don’t walk through life with people naturally gravitating towards me. I’m okay with it now, but it was something I struggled with back then. Kazuha, Sunoo and I have had each other since our elementary days, and I never needed more than that—but fifteen is the prime age for comparison, and as the weeks passed and we got used to being high schoolers, I listened to everyone sing your praises, I watched as you talked with all of our classmates, even our teachers, like you were old friends. But we sat next to each other in a couple of classes, and you wouldn't talk to me outside of partnered work. I, who wanted to be easily charmed by you like everyone else was, who thought maybe you’d help me come out of my shell. But it felt like sitting next to me was torture to you, like the boy whom I watched speak with ease to everyone else disappeared when I was around. And so — and I’m not proud of this — every smart remark in class, every joke that had the entire class roaring, every high five you gave out in the hallway, I started to despise them. And by association, I started to despise you. After that, it was easy to find fault in everything you did, my contempt was only enhanced by everyone’s admiration. But I’m not alone here. It went both ways, didn’t it? I don’t think you liked that I didn’t like you and openly showed it, so used to being everyone’s favorite person you were. I remember how you showily tried to be nice to me after that, maybe you just wanted another friend, but I didn’t let you. I don’t blame us for how we acted, only for taking so long to get our heads out of our asses.

(I have to say, I also have a thing for hating people. Remind me to tell you about Na Jaemin and Shin Ryujin one of these days.)

Anyways, I think it’s because I had liked you so much at first that I could then seemingly hate you so much. But I never hated you, Jong, not really. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Can I take it all back now? 

Now that we’re entering university soon, I can’t help but look back on high school. This is what I want to know, but I’m not sure I’ll ever have the courage to ask you, because if your answer is the one I suspect, I don’t know how I’ll handle all the regret in my heart.

Have I been wrong about you this whole time? I thought you harbored the same negative feelings towards me as I had you since the moment you’d laid eyes on me, but all of a sudden, here you were, bloody, bandaged hand holding mine. Even with your busted eye, you looked like an angel next to all that white in the nurse’s station. I’ll never forget your words that day. Would you really not get hurt for anything else, Jong?

Your letter abruptly ends here, no concluding remarks, no wishing him a fun time in Seattle and looking forward to his next letter, no sign-off. It was as if someone cut you off before you could say everything you wanted, but then why send him this seemingly unfinished letter? It is all the more bizarre since your letters are usually meticulous: you write on every other line, it looks like you take your time with every single letter, the only disturbance in your otherwise perfect handwriting is your going back-and-forth between cursive and script s’s. But this particular letter looks rushed, your lines are sloppy, some words need to be read a few times over to be understood. What kind of state had you been in, writing these words? Jay’s heart swells, thinking that you were as moved writing as he was reading. He even looks through your letter again, wishing to find a tear stain somewhere, but there are none. Maybe he’s been watching too many of these romantic period dramas you always go on about.

He has to pace his room when he’s done reading your letter, but he feels trapped inside these four walls, so he dashes outside, saying that he’s getting some air when his relatives ask him where he’s off to in such a rush, and walks around the block five times. When he’s back in his room, he rereads your letter, eyes taking in each and every word slowly and carefully, making sure he doesn’t misread anything.

You like him. You, Y/N, like him, Jongseong, it’s a fact, it’s real, you said so yourself, you went into quite some detail about it, he can’t believe it, but it’s real, it’s written right there on the page, if anyone dares tell him he’s fooling himself, he can prove them wrong, you’re the one who said it.

The smile doesn’t leave his lips for the rest of the day, he can barely eat, he’s already full of happiness. He reads your words over and over before falling asleep, committing them to memory, dreaming about them, about you.

You. How should he respond to this? Are you even expecting a response? You seem to know he’s not impartial to you, either, although that’s an understatement. 

In the following days, the thought that you hadn’t meant to send him this letter nags at him. The abrupt ending, the absence of your usual Love, Y/N. The fact that this had come out of left field—none of your previous letters had even a romantic undertone, no matter how he tried in his own to hint at his missing you, the most reference to seeing each other again you would give him was It’ll be better to show you this in real life. The act of sending letters itself didn’t feel very platonic, but you never went there, so he didn’t, either. He had secretly yearned to have you this close all these years, he would never forgive himself if he ended up chasing you away now with his over-eagerness.

You had landed on something very real in your letter: I don’t think you liked that I didn’t like you and openly showed it, so used to being everyone’s favorite person you were. I remember how you showily tried to be nice to me after that, maybe you just wanted another friend, but I didn’t let you. He cursed his fifteen-year-old self, that idiot who couldn’t even speak to a girl no matter how much he wanted to, just because she was so pretty, he was afraid of saying something stupid and messing it up before it even had a chance to start.

On days when you’d had particularly nasty or petty arguments — it could get pretty bad, at the start, before you both started maturing and realized how ridiculous you were, especially with your classmates telling you to keep it classy — he’d stay up all night, wondering why you hated him so much in the first place, what on Earth he could’ve done to warrant such vitriol. Now, finally, he knew, and he could only resent the fact that no one had invented time machines yet, so he could nip his useless ego in the bud; so he could tell younger Jay not to take it personally, that you had your reasons for disliking him, that even if you hadn’t, the world won’t end if someone doesn’t like him like everyone usually does. 

Because, he hates to admit, that was what had done it for Jay. He couldn’t stand that someone — not just someone, but one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen, a girl he’d been hyping himself up to talk to every day, but never found the courage to — didn’t immediately fall for his charms. And not just that, but even showed just how much she disliked him. You looked him up-and-down with disdain, made disgusted faces at his jokes, rolled your eyes when he spoke up in class. It made him burn with anger, but he also weirdly enjoyed it—at least, you were paying attention to him. So, he amped it up. Talked louder, laughed louder, hovered around you. He even stole your erasers, wrote the date on which he’d taken them, kept them in a box on his desk that he looked at every time he studied at home. He aimed to beat you in every class you shared, even though neither of you cared that much about grades—the annoyed look on your face when he boasted about the two points he’d gotten over you was enough satisfaction.

All in all, he behaved like a child, and you reciprocated in like.

Until you didn’t.

It was a random Tuesday when something in your attitude towards him shifted. It wasn’t a complete 180, but he noticed everything about you, so even a slight change of your tone was obvious to him. You started using your nickname for him more often than his full name—he never told you, but of course he loved that you didn’t call him Jay like everyone else, that you had your own way of addressing him. It was a sign to him that the two of you had something special, even if it was on the opposite end of the spectrum of what he wanted with you.

He again spent sleepless nights wondering what had caused this change: was it something he had done, or something within you? It was a welcome change, that much was sure, but he was initially too confused to take it in stride. He’d long made peace with the fact that he’d never have you the way he really wanted, so he was fine with whatever this was—but now, you were changing, your interactions were tinged with something like shyness, the distance between you felt greater than ever. He tried to keep up his smart-ass appearances around you, but you only indulged in your old habits once in a while, as though you had grown tired of arguing with him, even of giving him the time of day.

So he resolved himself to adapting his behavior to yours. If you stared at him intently like his face was a puzzle you were trying to solve, he let you, rested his head on his palm and smiled as he stared back at you. Finally, he had an excuse to look at you without you threatening to punch him or saying a picture would last longer. He knew they did, he’d had to resort to scrolling through Sunoo’s and Kazuha’s Instagrams to find any photos of you. Yours was private and at the time, you would’ve probably cursed him out if he’d sent a follow request. If you seemed too annoyed or upset over something, he’d leave you alone, he’d do something nice to let you know you didn’t need to have your guards up at all times around him. If you seemed to silently call for a truce of hostilities, he easily complied.

Then, after a few weeks, your petty arguments resumed, but those too were different—if before they felt filled with real disdain and irritation, they now seemed to be a comfortable habit to fall back on, almost like a fun hobby. Those, too, Jay readily welcomed.

And so things changed in a direction Jay had never thought would one day be possible. You gave him no explanations, nor did he ask for any, and soon he stopped losing sleep over the why’s and the how’s and simply let himself enjoy the fact that you now had the semblance of a friendship, that he could compliment you and pass it off as amical teasing, that he could learn things about you like what you spent your weekends doing, what your relationship with your family was like, whether you were a dog or cat person, whether you wanted to visit his farm in Stardew Valley. 

Unsurprisingly, this only enhanced his already pathetically strong feelings for you. He worried over how to make sure this wasn’t some sort of 30-day friendship trial you had wanted to test out. He reveled in the fact that his top university of choice was the one you had already been accepted to. He now knew what it felt like to have you smile at him, smile because of him, and he never wanted again to live in a world where this was not a daily occurrence. 

He now sort of has an answer—your letter doesn’t make it very clear, it makes him think again that you really had not meant to send it, but you seem to have had a dream. A dream of him, 28-year-old him, to be precise, of your life together—he’s not sure. At this point in time, he doesn’t care much, either. Whether it was a dream or a real vision of the future that you had, all that matters is that it allowed you to see him in a new light, a light which he had hoped for years would one day appear to you, and it had changed things. And now, you liked him.

You said so yourself.

He’s at a loss for words. He can’t concentrate for long enough to put all his thoughts in order, he can’t make himself calm down and write his feelings down. He has to pack to go home, once he’s home, he’ll have to pack for university. But it’s only two weeks from now to the day you meet again, and it’ll be better to say what he wants to say in person, anyway.

Is it okay if I respond to your letter in person? I think I’ll be too busy these two coming weeks, he texts you.

And then those two weeks pass like two seconds and you’re there, a few meters away from him. All the speeches he’d prepared in his head, from grand declarations of love to laid-back admittances of Yeah, I like you too, you’re cool, I guess, they all vanish from his head. For fourteen days he’s been going through scenarios upon scenarios of your reunion, what you’d look like, what he’d say, how you’d react. But now that he can actually see you, now that he would just have to walk a few steps if he wanted to touch you, hug you, kiss you — hoping that was something you wanted to do — he freezes. He forgets how his body works, the part in his brain that’s meant to manage language ability fails him. HIs mom calls him over, urging him into his new dorm building, and all he can do is wave back at you like an idiot.

When finally he musters the courage to text you, what he hopes will be the day that starts your romantic relationship turns into the day Park Jongseong realizes how much of a loser he is. For the first hour, he can’t look at you, he can’t get through a sentence without stuttering out half of his words, he runs out of things to say in record time. All he can think of is how easy it’d be to grab one of your hands, hold it in his and walk around this stupid potted plant sale as if the two of you were two halves of a whole. He doesn’t even want a potted plant, his roommate already has five, he just wanted an excuse to see you. He steals glances at you when you’re looking elsewhere, and he notices everything about you tenfold now that he can, now that caring about you doesn’t need to be in vain any longer. He tells himself that he just needs to calm down a bit, even when you have the confirmation that the person you’re about to confess to already likes you, revealing your feelings to someone is always nerve-wracking, the two of you haven’t seen in each other in a while, he’ll talk to you once his heart gets out of his throat.

But you’re acting normal. Suspiciously so. You’re acting like you never told him you liked him, like nothing has changed between you. He rereads your letter the second he gets back to his dorm. He’s not crazy, it’s written right there, I like you, Jong. I think I have for a long time, longer than either of us thinks. He knows the words by heart now, but he checks them anyway. So why are you acting like you never said anything? Had you really not meant to send that letter? Did Jay actually intrude on your private thoughts by reading words that had never meant to be seen by another soul?

You continue to behave as you usually would around him, but if he couldn’t go back to vicious bickering when things changed the first time, he can’t go back to friendly bickering now that things — for him — have changed a second time. He doesn’t even want friendly to be in your shared vocabulary anymore. 

So he stops giving in. If you make fun of him, he just stands there with an unimpressed if amused look on his face. If you pedantically correct him on something, he just nods his head and accepts it. He can tell you’re bothered by it, but he needs to show you that he doesn’t want to go on being just friends with you—he wants to compliment you without having to pass it off as teasing, he wants to stare at you with hearts in his eyes without having to look away when you catch him, he wants to spend every waking second of every day with you, he wants to hold your hand, hold you. 

He could wait for things to change slowly again, but why wait when he could help things along?

--

It’s nine p.m. on a Saturday and you’re sneaking Jongseong into your dorm. Liz is away for the weekend, gone back home to celebrate her aunt’s birthday, so you have the room to yourselves. It took some convincing to get him to come — What if we get caught coming in, What if your T.A. sees us, What if I get reported to campus police — and so when your verbal reassurances failed to work, you resorted to blinking up at him through your lashes and that did the trick.

Jongseong was in many ways unlike any other man you’d ever met; in some other ways, he was the exact same.

Plastic bag of the tteokbokki you’d asked for in hand, he looks around the deserted hallways like someone might jump out of nowhere and beat him to a pulp at any given moment. At this time of the week, everyone’s out partying or holed up in their dorms, presumably either to rest or because of a lack of friends so early on in the semester. You grab his free hand and hurry him along to the elevator—once inside, it takes you a few seconds before you realize you’re still holding it, and you retract your hand quickly while he just smiles. 

You settle yourselves on the floor—comfort is not worth getting gochujang sauce on your white sheets. You sit criss-cross in front of each other, the food between the two of you, and catch up on your first week of class in-between bites of spicy, gooey rice cakes and fish cakes. You wonder, if one day you and Jongseong are no longer friends, how long you will keep associating tteokbokki with him.

When you tell him that you and Jake share a class, Introduction to Film Studies, he gives you a look. “What’s that face for?” you ask.

“Did you guys sit next to each other?”

You chuckle. “Of course. We only knew each other in that room, it would’ve been weird not to.”

He continues to stare at you. After a while, he muses, “You’re not…?”

You halt in your tracks, rice cake at the end of your plastic fork hanging in the air, halfway between the container and your mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.” Still in love with him, interested in him again, you don’t know the exact details of Jongseong’s thought process, all you know is he has nothing to worry about—if it’s something he worries about.

When a smile slowly grows on his lips and he nods, saying, “Okay, good,” you let yourself think it might be.

Later, you’re ten minutes into a senseless blockbuster movie when he suddenly pauses it. It snaps you out of a trance—his hand was awfully close to yours, so is his shoulder, his thigh, his knee, everything, really, and you haven’t been able to concentrate on anything but the warmth radiating off his skin and the intensity with which you crave to feel it intentionally rather than accidentally. When he speaks, there’s something serious in his tone that makes you nervous. “Y/N,” he says as he turns to you, and now his face is awfully close, too. There’s still many centimeters separating you, but in this tiny, barely lit-up room, he feels closer than ever before. “Do you remember when I said I’d reply to your letter in real life?”

You tilt your head. “Yeah, that was ages ago.”

“Well, I thought I’d do it now.”

“Now?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Now.”

And then those safe centimeters suddenly disappear, and Jongseong’s lips are on yours. It’s a brief, chaste kiss, so quick you wonder if it even happened when he leans back again.

“I like you, too,” he says, and your heart stops.

“W-what?” is all you can say back, eyes wide like he’s just admitted to killing someone rather than reciprocating your feelings.

His confident facade quickly crumbles. “God, this was so much cooler in my head, I-I’m sorry.” He pulls something out of his sweatpants pocket, pages folded over and over into a tiny square. As he unfolds them, you recognize your paper, your handwriting—but what do your letters have anything to do with him kissing you, of all things? “I don’t think you meant to send this. But I’m glad you did.”

He hands you the pages and your eyes skim over the words, not detecting anything out of the ordinary, until—But it got me thinking about your fight again. Reflecting on it now, I can say that it was a turning point for me in my perception of you. You remember this line, because you had made sure to strike it and everything that came afterward out when you rewrote the letter that you would actually send Jongseong. So how was he giving you this? 

“I-How do you have this?” you ask, voice trembling. You feel as though your heart overflows with all kinds of emotions, and so your eyes follow, tears staining your lower lashes. 

But Jongseong is not one to let you hide things from him. “Hey, no, it’s okay,” he says, warm hands coming to cup your face. “Look at me.” You have no choice but to oblige—his gaze is somehow both soft and stern, a mix of concern and determination. “Did you mean what you wrote in here?” You nod. “Then everything’s okay. You don’t know how happy I was reading this.”

The tension in your body slowly starts to fade. “Really?”

“Really. I cherish every single word in there.”

“Really?” you repeat, and he chuckles.

“Really.”

Your heartbeat speeds up as you gaze into his eyes, as you let yourself bask in the affection and endearment you find there. You can’t quite comprehend what’s happening. The letter, the kiss, his confession, your inadvertent confession, it’s all a mess in your head; so sudden, but such a long time coming at the same time. You never imagined that things would change so quickly—less than a year ago, you thought Jongseong was the most irritating person on this planet. After meeting his 28-year-old self, you thought it’d take ages for the two of you to be on such good terms. But now, just a week into your first semester of university, belly full of tteokbokki and Sprite, you like each other enough not only to be in the same room without hurling insults at each other but to actually be smiling at each other, willingly at that.

Your eyes drift down to his lips, just like in the hallway all those months ago, and the words slip out before you can stop them. They’re a mere whisper—”Kiss me again.”

Jongseong doesn’t need to be told twice. Still cupping your face, he bridges the gap between the two of you again, and this time, when your lips meet, they don’t come apart so quickly. It’s your first kiss, and it’s nothing short of magical, better than any romance novel could’ve prepared you for. His lips are warm and soft against yours, moving slowly, gingerly; as if he’s scared to take any wrong step, he lets you control the pace, follows every tilt of your head this way and that. It’s a relief that he seems to know as little about this as you do—his hands haven’t moved from your face, yours are on his knees, all you can do is focus on the movement of your lips, to think of anything else at the same time would be overwhelming. 

“I’ve liked you from the start,” he suddenly says, face still so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he speaks. 

“Hm?” you hum, body reeling from the kiss.

“I’ve liked you from the start,” he repeats, grinning—he looks relieved, like he’s been waiting to say these words for a long time. “I can’t believe this is happening after all these years. Or at all, really.”

“I think I did, too.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that in your letter.”

Your eyes widen and you bury your face in your hands as Jongseong laughs. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” you mumble.

He smooths over your hair with one hand, brings your face back up with the other. “Don’t worry. I won’t ever make you regret this.”

Your brain and heart are too all over the place for you to come up with a coherent answer, so you lean in and reconnect your lips to his. It’s already becoming your favorite sensation, feeling him smile into the kiss, threading your fingers in his soft hair.

Time passes delicately like this, the two of you on your single bed, in the sheets that you bought three weeks ago. A lot of it is spent kissing and learning how to fall into each other’s rhythm, but you also spend hours talking, comparing situations and how you’d experienced them. You thought his occasional acts of kindness were done out of guilt, evidence that he did have some morals; he was trying to show he cared about you. He thought you’d despised him from the moment you saw him; you reiterate in more detail than your letter what really happened, you say you wish you knew then what you know now. 

“But I never hated you, Jong. I think I wanted to believe that I did, but I never actually did.”

“You glared at me everytime I walked past like I killed a member of your family.”

You groan, ashamed of yourself. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he says, chuckling, placing a kiss on your forehead. His arms are around you, your head rests atop his heart—you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life. “But it’s okay. We’re here now, and I don’t want us to have any regrets about high school. We had a good time, didn’t we?”

You tilt your head up to look at him. “I’m sure you did, stealing all my erasers.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. Clearly, he’s very proud of his feat. “Hey, I gave all of them back.”

“And what am I going to do with a hundred erasers, Jong?” you ask, laughing too, pecking his cheek aggressively—your way of punishing him for a grave deed.

“Keep them as a token of my love for you,” he says, and your breath falters at the mention of that word. “In fifty years, it’ll be a sign that I’ve liked you since the beginning, I just had a funny way of showing it.”

“Fifty years, huh?”

He grins. “Fifty, a hundred, whatever. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

You’re both smiling so wide, you can barely manage a kiss. He trails kisses from your lips to your ear. Holding you close, he whispers, “It’s always been you, Y/N. Always and only you.”

There may be thorns on the otherwise immaculate rose that is your life, but Park Jongseong was never one of them—all along, he was a bud waiting to bloom.

--

The more time passes, the more you wonder whether that night you had seen in your vision will ever come. There’s been evenings similar to it—crashing the minute you came home from a long day on set, telling yourself you’d take a fifteen-minute power nap only to wake up three hours later and coming downstairs to find your husband cooking dinner, cleaning the kitchen, taking care of your son or simply watching TV, but waiting for you, always waiting for you. He seems as happy now watching you come down the stairs as he was then finding your face among all the students flocking out of lecture halls. 

The details are blurry now, but many small things seem to be different from what you’d seen. He still tries to recreate your favorite meal, but it’s not pasta all'arrabbiata, it’s laksa, because your first date as an official couple was to a Malaysian restaurant, not an Italian one. He’s still the best father you know, but you have one son, not twin girls—although that offer to “give him a younger sibling to play with” is always on the table. Even the house you live in is different from the one in your dream, which has now become nothing more than a funny anecdote you share with people when they ask you the story of how you and Jongseong met.

You think of Sunoo’s words from all those years ago: Sometimes, we want something so badly, we conjure it up for ourselves. Had 18-year-old you been in such denial over her feelings for Jongseong that she’d had to convince herself a magical well had bestowed a crazy dream upon her to admit that, yes, there was something there, something other than childish hatred?

It doesn’t matter anymore. Months pass without you thinking about that well, anyway. 

Tonight, you come home late from work after having had to do last-minute changes to the script for your current project, a movie that starts shooting in a few days. Jongseong texted you that he was going to bed an hour or so again, so you’re greeted by a plate of japchae covered in film paper. The post-it note stuck to it reads, I’m afraid of the repercussions of too much curry consumption on our son, so no laksa tonight my love. Hope you like it. Come to bed quick. You were starving a second ago, but you decide food can wait—other things can’t.

You tiptoe up the stairs and into your son’s room, breathing in the scent of his hair and placing a kiss there. His hair is still worryingly sparse, but if he’s anything like his dad, it’ll come in a bit later than the other kids. You always thought babies with a full head of hair were freaky, anyway. He doesn’t budge a bit, sleeping like a log—his dad is another story, shuffling in bed the moment you step into your shared bedroom. He opens his arms wide, a silent invitation.

“You’re home,” he says as you attach yourself to his body, your leg hiked up over his, your face buried in the crook of his neck, your thumb caressing the start of stubble on his cheeks.

You smile. “I am.”

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2024. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @jakeflvrz @enhastolemyheart (ask to be removed/added!)

[moon-reblogs]

UNLUCKY GIRL SYNDROME ✦ PSH

SYNOPSIS. if it was possible to see the number of people who would fall in love with you over your lifetime, most people would agree to it in a heartbeat, but some might not. you don't get that choice, labelled by a mysterious system as someone destined to receive no love and threatened to fix this 'error' before it's too late. but who will be your saviour, the social pariah sunghoon, or the school's golden boy sim jaeyun?

CONTENT. f! reader, love triangle, grumpy x sunshine, serious topics (burnout, mental health, etc.), she fell first he fell harder, drama, comedy, slight angst

PLAYLIST. listen here... ! feel free to send in an ask with recommendations

NOTE. this is inspired by true love operation! the premise & the character settings are both based off of it!

++ the love triangle is between you, jake, and sunghoon. which I KNOW a lot of people hate love triangles and tbh i don't love them, but the main reason i think a lot of people don't like them is the main character tends to lead the second lead on and refuses to make a choice. i don't think that happens here! and anyways, not to spoil... but i'm actually going to make this a three part series for each of the 02z so jake will get his happy ending!

++ special thanks to suki ( @fleurre ) for beta reading, you helped me SO much!

WORD COUNT. 16.7 k / 31.2 k

PART TWO. link at bottom, and also here!

when sunghoon thinks back on this moment months later, he’ll shudder in embarrassment at his behaviour. right now, he’s just a bit of an asshole: the kind of guy to see a cat stuck in a tree and simply continue walking.

sunghoon of course, knowns none of this. he’s musing about how much longer he has to spend in the building when a harsh shove jolts him back to reality from the haze his mind had ventured to.

he stumbles slightly, almost falling into a desk, ultimately regaining his balance easily thanks to years of being an ice skater. he levels a glare at the culprit responsible for nearly making him eat tile, raising an eyebrow at the boy’s lurching gait.

his attention remains on the boy, half curious about the boy and half excessively bored from waiting for class to start. the bustle and chatter of sunghoon’s fellow high schoolers serves only to irritate him as he sees the boy slump into his desk and settle his head down onto the worn wood.

must be tired. still doesn’t stop sunghoon from internally chastising him. idiot. as an athlete… as a former athlete, he’s long since hammered it in to have a hearty and enriched breakfast every single morning.

he’s just about to turn away when a moving figure- seemingly headed straight for the desk sunghoon’s attention has been invested in- enters his field of vision.

sunghoon holds back a sigh. it’s you. he knows you yes, but he doesn’t particularly like you. in fact, one might venture as far as to say that you irritate him. piss him off, even. the frown on his face only deepens when you dart a quick glance around the classroom to make sure no one’s paying attention, to which he quickly looks away.

only for his attention to return back to you soon after. sunghoon watches as you, upon a seemingly clear coast, pull a cold coffee can out of your backpack as well as a pastry. he snorts, what an awfully non nutritious breakfast. you seem to falter a little, hands moving carefully so as to not disrupt the boy’s rest. satisfied with your work, you head back to your seat. 

he’s noticed that you seem to be wholly friendless. which is odd, considering how you behave when no one’s looking. 

now here’s the thing. he doesn’t dislike you because of something you did or still do, well not in the way most people would expect. as horrendously unreasonable as it sounds even to himself, you just don’t make sense.

how could anyone be kind for no reason? he would see you around school just helping people out both without them knowing and receiving no benefit from it. who does that? the reason this bothers him is that it isn’t possible.

love is entirely transactional; this is something sunghoon has observed from the people around him as a child, and that had only been cemented in his circuit as a child prodigy.

people loved him when he was good at what he did. when he ate, slept, and breathed ice skating. they loved how he never missed a day at the rink, never scored lower than the podium at competitions.

fans would do so much for him, but it was all transactional. the second he faltered, made a mistake, stopped being perfect and faltered, so too did their love. when he lost his passion and washed up, so too did their support.

not just love but even kindness is given with the expectation of earning something in return. the fact that you don’t seem to have this motive is incredibly suspicious, and he doesn’t believe it for a second.

there has to be something you’re hiding, and while he might not care enough to set out and find it, he would take extreme pleasure in knowing he was right the whole time when the truth inevitably came out.

you pout as you watch the hustle and bustle of the classroom during your lunch period. you don’t have anyone to speak to, yes, but it isn’t really by choice. you had transferred here this year, only to be slightly taken aback by the cliquey and peculiar culture. your old school was very friendly, enough that your friends knew all about your slightly embarrassing hobby about writing romance stories online even without ever having dated anyone. they would be perhaps 5 out of the 8 likes you’d receive on chapters.

you have never had a problem making friends, but that was back home. this is here. here, the atmosphere is so rigid and chilly that you’d never think for a second about opening up to someone about your pastimes even if you did get friends. in fact, the loneliness had gotten to you so much that you stopped posting full stop, not feeling you understood human relations enough to write about them at all.

so you try helping people, for no reason in particular. it comes entirely naturally to be honest. it’s just that if you can’t make friends with people then this is how you can still be near people.

everyone craves human connection in one way or another, the only difference is if they allow themselves to do so.

now you just watch wistfully as gaggles of teenage boys yell boisterously and raucous laughter fills the air. girls sit with each other, leaning in to hear the hot gossip or simply about each other’s lives.

the sun streaming in through the large windows casts a golden shine over the scene, somehow causing you to feel nostalgic even as you are present in the moment. not to mention the aromas. it’s all you can do to not rob the boy sitting a few desks away from you of his lunch, also alone.

though, once your eyes reach him, they don’t leave. why does he look bored out of his mind? maybe he has no friends like you? actually, that’s highly unlikely. he probably does, they’re just in another class. man, with a face like that, it’s hard to believe people in this class aren’t clambering to hang out around him.

your eyes narrow slightly; considering the wide berth the other students give him, such isolation may be intentional. oh well, not your problem.

not your problem, because what you have to worry about right now is finding friends. it’s harder than it sounds. the noise around the classroom peters out and you settle further into your chair.

oh well. there’s always tomorrow to start making friends.

jake’s eyes are just about to close when the door to the storage room he’s found for himself whips open. great. just when he thought he could get some alone time away from the hordes of people vying for his attention.

now the model genuinely appreciates the dedication people seem to have in supporting him, but. but. there’s this stuffy feeling in his chest he gets whenever he thinks about it nowadays.

he doesn’t like thinking about it, so his solution is just that. don’t think about it.

but now, you’ve arrived into the room and he has a strong feeling his peace will get disrupted. 

jake holds his breath as you curse lightly after stumbling in and closing the door behind you. he feels like a field mouse trying to evade a bald eagle’s notice. in both cases it’s useless, of course.

you gasp, and he winces, trying to prepare himself for the ear-splitting shrieks that are surely soon to follow. and then inevitably a horde of excited teenage girls bustling in. so much for a peaceful lunch.

contrary to his expectations, however, your volume remains to be under 60 decibels as you open your mouth, “woah! i didn’t realize anyone else would be in here, sorry!”

jake raises his brows, slightly confused. don’t get him wrong, while he is indeed what you would call famous, he doesn’t expect everyone to love or even know who he is. he’s met many people who were indifferent to him or seemed to possibly dislike him.

it’s just, that had never happened here. now that he has started going to decelis academy, there hasn’t been a single moment he’s alone or unknown. and that’s, well, the nature of highschool. people would find out a model is attending their school and spread it to all of their friends, or that they had seen him in an ad. that kind of stuff.

so considering school would obviously be full of teen aged girls, whilst roaming decelis’ halls he had never encountered a face that lacked recognition the way yours did.

jake speaks cautiously, but still maintaining his friendly air, “that’s alright.”

you blink, somehow this boy is a little familiar, but you can’t pinpoint exactly where you’ve seen him… oh well, again, not your problem! it seems like he’s open to sharing the space with the way he hadn’t immediately shooed you out. you take a cursory glance around the room, noting a broken fountain drink bottle in the corner.

you step further in the room clearing your throat a bit, “so, do you mind if i stay here?”

right now you’re really not looking forward to going outside and facing everyone. hundreds of people, and none of them as lonely as you.

you don’t know how much longer you can take it, going to school every morning and having the hours crawl by painstakingly slow.

internally, jake assesses how likely you are to bother him and be invasive; taking in your frazzled appearance and rather nervous state, he decides you’re most likely hiding out here for reasons entirely unrelated to him.

he smiles warmly and nods, “sure, you should probably take a seat, though.”

say… you could try making friends with this boy sitting on the ground? sure, it might go awfully wrong and he’d be weirded out by you, but considering you’ve never seen him before now, what’s the likelihood you’d see him after?

so you square your shoulders, ignore the way this boy is incredibly handsome– enough to be a model even– and open your mouth.

“why are you hiding out here?”

the words strike the silent air like a whip and even you wince when they exit your mouth. the way you said it sounded just a tad confrontational and you can see an undecipherable emotion fill the boy’s face as his brows furrow and eyes narrow. before he can open his mouth however, you interrupt in an attempt to not sound accusatory.

“that sounded a bit odd, i just meant i’ve never seen anyone other than me eat alone.”

the boy raises his eyebrows, and slightly embarrassed, you speak yet again.

“not that i don’t have friends!”

you pause, before sighing and deflating.

“actually, why am i trying. i don’t.”

by now jake is thoroughly bewildered, this encounter being the furthest thing from what he expected when you had entered through the heavy metal door (speaking of which, how did you have the strength to whip it open anyways?)

the conversation is so out of left field that jake’s perfectly maintained filter slips for a moment, and he asks, “are you new here?”

you blink a few times before sighing, “yes… how’d you know?”

now there are a great number of things he can say at this moment, that it’s unlikely for you to have no friends unless you’re new, that he has never seen you around before, but what came out is more honest.

“you didn’t know me.”

“what?” you raise an eyebrow, immensely surprised at what this boy (you really should ask for a name so you don’t have to keep referring to him as boy in your head) has just said.

jake panics at his admittedly less than courteous words, so he fumbles slightly in hopes of covering them up.

“uh, i just mean, i’ve never seen you! i know a lot of people around the school, but i don’t think i’ve seen you around.”

he scratches his head sheepishly, hoping you take the gesture and words and think about them instead of the slightly arrogant sentence he had uttered prior.

you nod, definitely not forgetting what he had said just now, but accepting the words as valid reasoning.

jake is a bit nervous, this didn’t fit into his usual case of interacting with others. it never took him this much effort to engage in a conversation and get people to like him.

and yes, you need to like jake, because everyone likes jake. he’s that guy.

the model rakes his brain for something to say before realizing a big glaring point he has missed all along.

“what’s your name?” jake levels another friendly smile at you.

you stare at him, focused on analyzing his features and trying to figure out where you’ve seen him before when the words break you out of your reverie.

you’re quiet for a second, listening to the sound of laughter and cheer that seems to encompass free periods, before you answer him with your name.

jake nods, “i’m jake.”

you frown, a little perturbed, that name is so familiar too. you know there’s no way this is the first time you’ve seen that face paired up with that name, “do i know you?”

in turn, he raises his brows, a little surprised at the question.

“not that i’m aware of..?”

he’s in the middle of figuring out how to say he’s a model which may be where you’ve seen him without seeming conceited when you gasp.

“yes, i do!”

jake waits for you to gush over said modelling, only to be slightly surprised when he’s met with a slight glare and pout instead.

“when i first transferred here you ran into me and made me spill my drink all over myself! and then you just made me write my kakaopay and ran away!”

the boy’s jaw drops open, extremely surprised by what came out of your mouth.

. . .

he struggles to find the right words, but there seems to be none in this situation. especially because he does not remember the encounter at all. he’s a busy person who interacts with countless people every day, and there’s no way he’d remember a one-off incident like that.

especially because he seemed to be in a hurry at the time you met him.

“i’m… sorry...”

you raise a brow, “it’s alright, you paid for it anyway. why were you in such a rush though…?”

“i’m not sure,” jake murmurs, but you’re not done with your commentary.

“the most exciting thing going on that day was the math competition, and that’s saying something.”

jake’s eyes light up, remembering, “that’s where i was going then! the math contest.”

your eyes widen slightly, “oh, i wouldn’t have expected that.”

wait.. is this boy pouting? it seems to be a mix between a pout and a grimace. 

“why not.”

oh gosh, did you offend him? does it sound like you’re saying he doesn’t look smart?

you wave your hands around frantically, not wanting to be misconstrued, “i didn’t mean anything, it’s just–” 

you’re interrupted by a phone notification, and when you glance at your phone it elicits a gasp.

“would you look at the time, sorry, i gotta go!”

you get up and immediately head for the exit without waiting for a response. gosh, this is so embarrassing.

meanwhile jake, is still frozen on the floor, a little upset. you only see him as a pretty face (if you even saw that…) how typical. that's all he is to anyone else, of course.

you’ve always loved the walk home back from school. well, always is a little bit of an exaggeration considering you’ve only moved here a couple months ago.

still, you’ve been watching the leaves fill the trees and spring begin to roll in. your path home is full of life and ardour brimming in the trees and small animals. today is no different of course, you hum slightly as you trek through the journey.

you’re so lost in the tunes pumping through your earbuds that you almost miss the stark pink rectangle on the path in front of you. 

‘huh, that’s odd,’ you think as you bend down to examine it more closely, realizing the object is a flip phone with a bright pink plastic backing. now who in their right minds would leave a phone on the floor? although, it most likely slipped out and fell…

and on top of that, having a flip phone in this day and age is slightly bizarre considering how outdated it is. not wanting to block the pathway, you pick the phone up and settle onto the bench.

maybe if you go through the details, you’ll find some information on the owner so you can return it to them. as old as it is, having a phone is still essential for communicating with everyone in your life and you’re sure whoever this phone belonged to won’t be pleased to lose it.

you power on the phone to go through it, and you find yourself able to go to the home screen immediately.

huh. either the owner hadn’t set a pin, or this phone’s so old it lacks the ability to set one.

which is good for you! it makes it easier to find the owner. but when you open up the contacts and try to check the owner contact, there’s no other form of contact there.

you’re just about to open the email app when the phone receives a message! you panic slightly, almost dropping the phone, but ultimately you decide to ignore the message.

but that’s before your eyes focus on the contents, to which you gasp softly.

unknown number: hey you who’s looking at this phone right now.

should you answer it? it might be the owner trying to contact you… a little odd that they would assume someone has it with them, but they could just be peculiar. nothing that would stop you from trying to return this device to the rightful owner.

unknown number: psst… answer me

unknown number: i have something to tell you

you decide to ignore the bizarreness of the message and respond with a quick: 

you: hello, is this the owner of the phone?

not even 10 seconds pass by before you receive a response. 

unknown number: you could say that. but that’s not important.

unknown number: what’s important here is you, you’re really lonely, huh?

okay, now this is getting really weird. too uncomfortable even for you, who’s always willing to help. but you make one last attempt.

you: sorry, i’m just trying to return this to the owner. if you let me know a meeting place i can give this back to you.

a message pings the phone at the same time yours is sent, causing you to widen your eyes. it’s a photo of you on the bench with a mocking sentence attached.

unknown number: poor little miss y/n. no one’s ever loved her, have they? :(

okay, now this is really fucking creepy. and there’s no way you’re helping them with the phone now. your stomach churns with unease, brain running a mile a minute, and you realize this person is close enough to see you. meaning they most likely left their phone on the road to observe and text whoever picks it up.

like one of those social experiments. except a million times more absurd. whatever. not your problem. you quickly settle the phone on the bench, knowing the owner would eventually come to retrieve it, before continuing on the sidewalk.

it’s only a few paces later when you freeze in your steps and you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

how the actual hell did they know your name? this no longer seems like a (debatably) innocent prank to you.

shivers crawl up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. suddenly the breeze and peaceful atmosphere don’t seem so nice and the path seems to stretch before you for miles.

just amazing, you curse the world out as you rush home, shoes pounding against the pavement at near breakneck speed.

shit. what the hell is going on?

you lock the door as fast as you can and lean your back against it, breaths coming out as harsh pants.

your mind as an absolute mess right now, severely freaked out by what just happened. you would think someone you know is pulling a messed up prank on you except you had left all your friends several kilometres behind when you moved away.

your hands are shaking even as you make your way to your bedroom and pace around the walkable space. an idea occurs to you and you desperately shoot towards where you had left your backpack.

maybe, without your notice, your mom has labelled your backpack or something, it’s highly unlikely but it’s looking to be your last hope.

knots tie themselves in your stomach as a cursory search of the bag shows it to be the plain thing you have always lugged to school. you sigh, opening the front pocket to get your phone as a natural response, but you freeze.

there, nestled comfortably alongside your phone, is the same pink flip phone you had left on the bench.

your hands tremble uncontrollably as you pick it up. you try to remember if there was an opportunity for anyone to stuff it into your bag, but there’s no way. you were running home at full speed, there was no way you wouldn’t have felt someone try and hold on to you long enough to unzip, insert, and then zip again.

something is wrong, and it’s really fucking with your head that you can’t think of a logical explanation to all of this.

sure enough, when you open the phone, another message has arrived.

unknown number: you didn’t really think you could run away, did you?

unknown number: awww i didn’t take you for a coward, y/n. although maybe that’s the reason no one can seem to love you.

unknown number: a pity.

you can’t decide whether to feel scared or angry, so you settle for a mix of both. it’s probably a good idea to try and find out more about this mystery sender, but that really isn’t something you feel like doing.

so you run back outside your house, bringing a dustpan, and smash the phone on the ground, cleaning up the mess to bring inside and throw out.

now if you see this stupid fucking phone again, it really would be a miracle.

thoughts of mystery senders and bright pink flip phones circle around your head as you get into bed that night, mind forgetting all about boys who spill drinks on you and boys that sit all alone at lunch, oddly isolated for some reason.

you have bigger things to worry about.

your homeroom teacher clearly doesn’t care about your bigger worries, you muse solemnly the next day with a sigh.

here you are, set to spend the next few weeks with the quiet and solitary boy in your class and saddled with extra work. you don’t entirely mind the extra work, but you have an inkling working with ‘park sunghoon’ won’t be fun.

this is what has happened. when you enter class in the morning, everything is going as usual. you haven’t seen that cursed phone again (thank god) and everyone seems to be going about their day perfectly fine.

then your teacher comes in, and begins to speak about a school wide event. she says that other schools are set to be invited, as well as a multitude of other things. all stuff you couldn’t care less about, and so you zone out.

that is, until the classroom goes pin drop silent and you realize maybe you should clock back in.

the teacher, it seems, is asking for volunteers?

“now, i know we have class representatives, but as they already have many other duties, i want to pick two new students for the roles of managing our class’s contribution to the event.”

still not very interesting, but you feign attentiveness. you can hear whispers all around you, people considering if the perks are worth giving up that much free time. ultimately, no one raises their hands for fear of looking eager.

instead, they wait for her to strike.

she calls on park sunghoon, curiously enough, “how would you like to help with the event, sunghoon?”

you can read people, so it’s very obvious a snarky reply might have made its way to his mouth, but you can almost see him swallow it back.

“okay,” he intones instead.

immediately, it’s as if someone has pressed a mute button. all of the potential interest in participating vanishes. you raise a brow, sunghoon seems to be a handsome guy, with no glaringly apparent personality issues, so why does it seem like absolutely no one wants to work with him?

is he a pariah, maybe? perhaps he had caused an incident before you had transferred to the school, and that caused their aversion.

nevertheless, whatever the reason is, interest in working on the school event has dropped into the negatives.

which, of course, means the teacher has to volunteer someone again. and of course, the lucky person has to be you.

“y/n,” the teacher starts, jolting you into attention, “would you like to work alongside sunghoon for the event? you’ll be able to make a lot of friends, and it might help in getting to know the school and its students better.”

you flinch in your seat, a flush settling in your body. this is so damn embarrassing. did she have to call you out like that in front of everyone?

“uh,” your voice cracks slightly and it’s all you can do to not dive under the desk and cry, “sure?”

it isn’t like you have much else of a choice, what with twenty-something pairs of eyes locked onto you expectantly. maybe if you do this they’d actually like you. if they don’t make fun of you for being so obviously friendless first, of course.

you’re still in an almost trancelike state when you and sunghoon are alone in the room with the teacher to receive more detailed instructions after class.

“you two will be in touch often in the upcoming month, so i suggest you exchange contact information, if you haven’t already.” she leaves with a final note.

so now it’s just the two of you. great.

you clear your throat awkwardly, “so, should we exchange numbers?”

the words are uttered with a friendly air as you try to not take his standoffish aura and appearance at face value. never judge a book by its cover, or whatever the saying is.

scratch that- did this bitch just roll his eyes at you? okay, wow, so maybe the other students are totally valid in giving his ass a fifteen foot berth.

“what else?” 

and man, it might seem like a given to him, but it isn’t for you? there’s no reason to be so rude to a complete stranger. especially since you haven’t wronged him.

… nothing that you can remember, at least.

you hum, still being civil, of course. 

“hmm, social media would work too.”

he levels you with an unimpressed gaze, “i don’t have social media.”

“o.. kay?” not entirely sure how to respond, you hand your phone over to insert his number.

he takes it, and you expect him to hand his phone over to do the same, but he doesn’t.

after around half a minute he just puts the cell phone back into your hands, already packing up to leave.

when he notices you standing there in place, not having moved an inch as he’s all but ready to go, he stares blankly at you.

“just text me so i get your number,” sunghoon mutters as he brushes past you.

wow. either you’ve done something wrong to him and forgotten about it (‘like jake did,’ you thought with a chuckle), or he’s just a grouchy person in general.

you’re leaning towards the second, because then it would also make sense why everyone avoids him.

sunghoon is in a very grumpy mood. sure, he wouldn’t go as far as to call you the bane of his existence but considering how often the corners of his mouth have pulled down into a frown in the past week, you might be close.

‘although,’ sunghoon muses, ‘it’s been getting better…’

most notably, despite your initial interaction and the following few being quite stilted, mostly courtesy of one standoffish park sunghoon, he’s noticed a sort of reluctant peace start to settle between the two of you.

from you, because annoyingly enough you don’t seem to have a mean bone in your body, and also from him because as much as you bother him, you intrigue him.

how are you possible?

and that’s where he is right now. sunghoon discreetly looks at you from his end of the storage room.

this week, the two of you are taking inventory of the school’s supplies in order to see what needs to be ordered. unfortunately, there are a lot of storage rooms across your school buildings. like, an unsettling amount.

the number causes an odd feeling to arise; considering there are so many, what are the odds that you would happen to stumble upon the one that contained jake? funny how things work out, isn’t it?

back to the point, you try to ignore sunghoon’s gaze digging into the back of your head as you rummage through the shelves on your side of the room and make notes on a clipboard.

eventually, though, it’s too much.

“what.” you force out before tracing back to suck any annoyance out of your tone, “i mean, is something the matter?”

sunghoon just stares at you cryptically, a slight smirk arising at your slip up. so you aren’t little miss perfect all of the time. funnily enough, this doesn’t sate him and instead he just grows more keen on seeing you lose your composure.

‘that’s right, you don’t like being nice all the time do you?’

before sunghoon can try and calculate what to say to irritate you, though, the words just slip out, “why are you so nice all the time?”

you raise an eyebrow, “am i?”

he gives you an unimpressed look, but doesn’t bother speaking so you continue.

“i don’t think i’m nice. i get really frustrated at people and i’m not always polite or courteous,” you ramble.

now this is interesting. sunghoon is downright flabbergasted, because what did you mean, you’re not nice? 

“i’ve seen you help people out all the time,” sunghoon blurts out, realizing in hindsight he’s exposed himself.

you nod at him, deciding to ignore the fact that apparently you have been getting observed for a considerable amount of time.

“okay, but i consider that basic human decency. kindness, if we’re stretching it.”

his forehead scrunches and you hate that the mannerism gets marked in your head as ‘adorable’ before you reel yourself back and remember he’s been… kind of a dick to you.

although, considering the way everyone avoids him… maybe he’s just kind of a dick in general?

you are pulled from your musing when sunghoon speaks after his extended silence, “what’s the difference?”

you let out a startled, “huh?”

sunghoon shakes his head, his state of utter bafflement temporarily draining the previous irritation out of him, “between kindness and niceness, what’s the difference?”

“well,” you struggle to find a way to put it into words, “being nice is like being polite to others and having manners, like saying please or thank you. being kind… i think it’s more about other people and treating them well. caring.”

when he’s silent, you continue, “you can be kind without being nice, and you can be nice without being kind. the latter… is pretty common, considering how often people want to use others for their own gain.”

a certain light of understanding enters the boy’s eyes and you believe he’s starting to see your point, but sunghoon’s next words prove that wrong.

“kindness doesn’t exist.”

your eyebrows shoot up. what in the world is this guy talking about?

“of course it does, maybe it’s hard to be kind to strangers, but i’m sure you’ve experienced kindness from those that care about you.”

a frown settles on his face, and it’s like all the openness to discussion he had started to gather has vanished in an instant. sunghoon is akin to an ice cold wall.

he turns away from you, back to the shelves on his side of the room, cleanly killing the conversation in a few gruff words, “let’s get back to work.”

you sigh, turning and following suit, before you almost tip the basket you’ve started to peak into at his next words.

they find your ears in a faint whisper, almost as if they had not meant to be said aloud, “if kindness exists, i’ve never felt it.”

the words bring an immeasurable ache into your heart, despite this being your first proper conversation with him.

sure, he’s rude and unnecessarily curt with you, but he hasn’t gone so far as to be unkind. everyone deserves to receive warmth, to be nurtured and cared for.

of course, you sure as hell aren’t going to be the one to try and nurture him, it really isn’t your job.

that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a note of sympathy and sadness for the boy as you continue your inventory.

sunghoon is in a very grumpy mood. sure, he wouldn’t go as far as to call you the bane of his existence but considering how often the corners of his mouth have pulled down into a frown in the past week, you might be close.

‘although,’ sunghoon muses, ‘it’s been getting better…’

most notably, despite your initial interaction and the following few being quite stilted, mostly courtesy of one standoffish park sunghoon, he’s noticed a sort of reluctant peace start to settle between the two of you.

from you, because annoyingly enough you don’t seem to have a mean bone in your body, and also from him because as much as you bother him, you intrigue him.

how are you possible?

and that’s where he is right now. sunghoon discreetly looks at you from his end of the storage room.

this week, the two of you are taking inventory of the school’s supplies in order to see what needs to be ordered. unfortunately, there are a lot of storage rooms across your school buildings. like, an unsettling amount.

the number causes an odd feeling to arise; considering there are so many, what are the odds that you would happen to stumble upon the one that contained jake? funny how things work out, isn’t it?

back to the point, you try to ignore sunghoon’s gaze digging into the back of your head as you rummage through the shelves on your side of the room and make notes on a clipboard.

eventually, though, it’s too much.

“what.” you force out before tracing back to suck any annoyance out of your tone, “i mean, is something the matter?”

sunghoon just stares at you cryptically, a slight smirk arising at your slip up. so you aren’t little miss perfect all of the time. funnily enough, this doesn’t sate him and instead he just grows more keen on seeing you lose your composure.

‘that’s right, you don’t like being nice all the time do you?’

before sunghoon can try and calculate what to say to irritate you, though, the words just slip out, “why are you so nice all the time?”

you raise an eyebrow, “am i?”

he gives you an unimpressed look, but doesn’t bother speaking so you continue.

“i don’t think i’m nice. i get really frustrated at people and i’m not always polite or courteous,” you ramble.

now this is interesting. sunghoon is downright flabbergasted, because what did you mean, you’re not nice? 

“i’ve seen you help people out all the time,” sunghoon blurts out, realizing in hindsight he’s exposed himself.

you nod at him, deciding to ignore the fact that apparently you have been getting observed for a considerable amount of time.

“okay, but i consider that basic human decency. kindness, if we’re stretching it.”

his forehead scrunches and you hate that the mannerism gets marked in your head as ‘adorable’ before you reel yourself back and remember he’s been… kind of a dick to you.

although, considering the way everyone avoids him… maybe he’s just kind of a dick in general?

you are pulled from your musing when sunghoon speaks after his extended silence, “what’s the difference?”

you let out a startled, “huh?”

sunghoon shakes his head, his state of utter bafflement temporarily draining the previous irritation out of him, “between kindness and niceness, what’s the difference?”

“well,” you struggle to find a way to put it into words, “being nice is like being polite to others and having manners, like saying please or thank you. being kind… i think it’s more about other people and treating them well. caring.”

when he’s silent, you continue, “you can be kind without being nice, and you can be nice without being kind. the latter… is pretty common, considering how often people want to use others for their own gain.”

a certain light of understanding enters the boy’s eyes and you believe he’s starting to see your point, but sunghoon’s next words prove that wrong.

“kindness doesn’t exist.”

your eyebrows shoot up. what in the world is this guy talking about?

“of course it does, maybe it’s hard to be kind to strangers, but i’m sure you’ve experienced kindness from those that care about you.”

a frown settles on his face, and it’s like all the openness to discussion he had started to gather has vanished in an instant. sunghoon is akin to an ice cold wall.

he turns away from you, back to the shelves on his side of the room, cleanly killing the conversation in a few gruff words, “let’s get back to work.”

you sigh, turning and following suit, before you almost tip the basket you’ve started to peak into at his next words.

they find your ears in a faint whisper, almost as if they had not meant to be said aloud, “if kindness exists, i’ve never felt it.”

the words bring an immeasurable ache into your heart, despite this being your first proper conversation with him.

sure, he’s rude and unnecessarily curt with you, but he hasn’t gone so far as to be unkind. everyone deserves to receive warmth, to be nurtured and cared for.

of course, you sure as hell aren’t going to be the one to try and nurture him, it really isn’t your job.

that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a note of sympathy and sadness for the boy as you continue your inventory.

finally. after a long hard day of, well, avoiding pushy fangirls and brown-nosers, jake has glimpsed some freedom.

he finds himself enjoying the breeze on a local park bench instead. it’s close enough to decelis that he still flinches every time he hears a high-pitched noise, but finding peace is not impossible.

especially when the park is full of families having fun and apparent couples lazing on the grass. it’s not often he gets to experience an atmosphere like this. not often that he’s allowed to pause and allow himself to feel the moment long enough to experience anything at all, actually.

it feels as if most of his time is spent in making connections, modelling, events and the time he does get to spend at school is used up dodging people who want to talk about said activities.

it’s downright exhausting, and it’s to the point jake considers dropping modelling several times a week. the issue, of course, is that he loves it. to him, it’s a form of art, especially when he can see all of the incredible content created from him. it’s like a part of him is permanently out there for people to know and experience and that’s just amazing to him.

an impasse. 

but enough rumination, right now is his time to truly feel peace and enjoy the ambiance the fresh air and trees provide.

that is, until someone goes crashing to the ground in front of him. 

jake did think that a block of pavement jutting at an angle from the previous would be an issue, but seeing the stray train of thought come to fruition is unfortunate.

what has just happened settles in, and jake scrambles off of the bench, mourning his peace only a little bit after taking in the familiar decelis girls’ uniform.

“oh my god, are you okay?” his hands hover hesitantly, twitching in the air uselessly in response to the girl’s groan filling the surroundings.

when you turn towards the boy to reassure him that ‘yeah, i just got my shit rocked in front of you, but i’m fine!’ you instead end up gasping when you notice who it is, “it’s you! coffee boy!”

jake is a little astonished, since when is he coffee boy? “hey! i have a name.”

you furrow your brow a bit, and he can’t tell if you’re trying to remember said name or that’s pain on your face.

“jake! right?”

he ignores the odd, new feeling of someone having to confirm his name instead of intuitively knowing it before he even says a word and nods, “and you’re y/n.”

he’s not sure if he would have remembered your name were it not for the way your last encounter with him went.

you nod enthusiastically, before frowning at the sting you feel on your knees. it seems the right one is slightly skinned. you frown, contemplating what you should do, still on the floor.

jake clears his throat, “you, uh, should probably do something about that.”

you raise an unimpressed brow, as if to say, ‘what, pray tell, should i do here in the middle of the park?’

but, not one to be discouraged, you reach into your bag, frowning and dumping one of the pockets contents onto the ground in search of what you need. you cheer slightly in triumph, grabbing the handkerchief around your skinned knee for now.

good enough until you get home.

you hear jake chuckle and fix your gaze back on him, confused as to what’s funny in the situation right now.

he smiles, pointing at an item from your backpack, “you’re still carrying a flip-phone around in this day and age?”

the blood evaporates out of your body. you don’t want it to be true, but as you follow his finger with bated breath, your heart stutters as your gaze lands on it.

it, being a bright. pink. flip-phone.

unbeknownst to you, jake frowns in confusion as he notices the drastic change in your demeanour. he remains dumbfounded as you flounder, shoving everything back in your backpack whilst completely ignoring the object.

he doesn’t even have the time to question you before you bolt away, leaving him and the flip phone.

jake’s unable to hold his curiosity back and he picks up the phone. he almost drops it at the message sitting on the home screen that greets him.

unknown number: hey, you’re not supposed to look at this! (¬_¬)

just what the hell is this? jake shrugs off the unnerving feeling and pockets the cell, deciding he’d give it to you eventually when you spoke again. although with the way you ran off, you didn’t seem too keen about it.

the model is utterly confused, but. oh well. he supposes being strange is one of your character traits.

unbeknownst to him, the phone would appear back in your backpack as soon as you arrive home.

jake would not find the flip phone later and would anxiously assume he lost it– or that you took it back without him knowing. 

the second thought would lead to a misunderstanding later down the line, but that is currently unimportant.

when you finally burst into your bedroom, you’re hyperventilating. a cacophony of frantic thoughts swim around in your head, trying to find some way, any way, to rationalize this. except there’s no rationalizing it.

while you have always been open to the supernatural, by no means are you a quote unquote believer, or anything near the like.

so this is way beyond your scope.

you pace around your room, trying to consider what options there are. clearly, unless you have a devout and incredibly skilled stalker there is no human possibility for the occurrences so far.

with the hypothesis that what’s haunting you is indeed supernatural, what are your possible courses of action?

well, telling someone definitely won’t work out, not to mention the fact that the only people you could possibly tell are your friends, several kilometres away, who are no doubt busy with their own lives. ignoring it has clearly been going well for you so far.

so your only option is to communicate with the mysterious being on the other side and find out exactly what they want. and then hope they leave you alone. how ideal.

you sigh as you dump your backpack on your bed, hoping the flip-phone won’t be amongst your belongings and also simultaneously knowing you aren’t that lucky.

lo and behold, there it is. who would have known such a small object was capable of causing such immense spite? you flick open the phone, bracing yourself for whatever jeering remark is sure to be awaiting you.

unknown number: long time no see, huh? did you miss me?

you roll your eyes and shoot out:

you: no.

the response is unnervingly quick.

unknown number: you hurt my feelings, love. although I suppose you wouldn’t know much about that, would you?

you furrow your brows, having absolutely no idea what the entity is talking about. but before you could even begin to compose a response, another message arrives.

unknown number: alright let's cut to the chase. you’re unlovable.

what. the. fuck. tormenting you constantly isn’t enough, it has to mock you for being perpetually single as well. frustrated, you message back:

you: what do you mean?

unknown number: oh you know exactly what i mean. has anyone ever liked you, a little playground crush, developed feelings? no, because you’re not destined for love.

you don’t believe a word of whatever bullshit this cell phone is spouting.

you: alright, whatever. what’s the big deal.

the next gap between messages is longer, intriguingly enough.

unknown number: you’re an anomaly. a bug. and you know what happens to errors, we get rid of them don’t we?

your brows shoot up, unable to contain the shock at genuinely being threatened.

unknown number: this phone gives you the ability to see how much romantic affection someone will receive in their life ^ - ^

unknown number: you have 0. most normal people have at least 10. crazy, huh? try it out, take a selfie. this phone’s camera shows and tells all.

you roll your eyes, incredibly annoyed. as if. there are so many issues with that statement that you can’t accredit to supernatural abilities. how would the phone have the power to see the future? unbelievable. 

which is precisely why you shut the phone off and toss it somewhere unknown in your room. you can't help the nagging feeling that it may not be the best idea, but what actual power does this phone have?

whatever entity talking to you could message you through the cell and seemingly return it to you endlessly, but you had reason to believe they needed to talk to you for some reason. it doesn't seem like a good idea to just give in and accept whatever it says thoughtlessly.

although there’s no doubt the phone would appear in your vicinity in a little while again and bother you until you open it, right now you just can’t be arsed to care.

what does it mean, ‘incapable of being loved,’ you hadn’t written romance on the internet to other teens for years to be told this. in fact, no doubt your (few) readers are patiently waiting after your final update several months ago. 

you reminisce on the succinct author’s note you had left at the time:

hey guys, i’m moving schools! i’m going to be busy for a few months, but to be entirely honest. i haven’t been feeling writing for a while. i feel like i don’t know how to write romance at all. maybe if i had a boyfriend lol. but yeah, i’ll see you when i get the inspiration or motivation to write again! love you guys.

you snort, what’s happening to you right now might be a perfect romance plot.

finally, the two of you have arrived at decelis again, deciding to split up after bussing together here ‘for efficiency’

as sunghoon walks away after saying his goodbye, a thought strikes you. although you despised that damn flip phone with a burning passion, you’re just too curious.

so you pull the flip phone out of your backpack and point the camera at his back, wondering to see what his number would be.

you almost drop the phone, because what the actual hell? why did a high-school boy have thousands of people destined to love him? well maybe he'll be famous in the future? but that couldn’t be, you narrow your eyes, sunghoon has already earned quite a bit of those points.

the label attached to sunghoon reads as:

87k/90k

so sunghoon is already famous? but why is he through so many hearts so early? you don’t get a chance to ponder on it further because you see sunghoon turn around in your camera.

shit, shit, shit.

you make a split second decision to pretend you’re taking a selfie, which should be believable given the fact that you’re standing in front of a flower bush.

you pray he’s unable to discern the fact that the camera in the flip phone hinge is currently rotated to the outside, not inside, and make a pouty face at the hinge to try and sell the fact.

soon enough sunghoon turns back around and you let out a sigh of relief, not noticing the smile that had been on his face whilst observing you. before your brief calm can last though, you get a message.

unknown number: believe me now? you can target anyone, but i recommend sim jaeyun.

hold on, hold on, the stupid phone’s moving too fast. you raise your eyebrows, choosing to ignore the first question in your response:

you: who the hell is that?

the phone’s response doesn’t help at all.

unknown number: oh that’s precious. he’s a model at your school. you can also target park sunghoon i guess.

your brows furrow, not liking the idea of using anyone like that.

you: what’s so special about those two?

by now you're pacing back and forth, the conversation causing a spike in anxiety.

unknown number: they’ve never loved anyone. meaning we have no data on them. who knows, you could be the lucky girl ^ - ^

you sigh.

you: what does that have anything to do with me? can’t you use your powers to fix this all?

the response back is incredibly infuriating.

unknown number: it’s out of my hands. there’s nothing as indomitable as the human spirit.

oh, this bitch.

you: but why me? couldn’t someone else do this, like one of the other anomalies idk..

it takes a few seconds to get anything back, but what you see chills you.

unknown number: because someone who can’t be loved has no place in this world.

you narrow your eyes, more infuriated than hurt.

you: why the fuck should i listen to you

it’s as though the air instantly intensifies and the world quiets around you.

unknown number: i’ll give you a reason. move back

you shoot out a quick:

you: what?

before immediately receiving back:

unknown number: now.

now usually this kind of command would irk you into stubbornly ignoring it, but a seriously dreadful feeling settles into your gut. instantly you scramble backwards, tripping into the flower bush.

and just as well because as soon as you do, a motorcycle zooms past, on the sidewalk, tearing into the sound barrier as it breaks record speeds.

your hands tremble and you stare wide eyed in front of you, not even able to comprehend what just happened at first.

you tend to get absorbed in tasks, yes, but there’s no way even you wouldn’t have been able to hear the engine of a motorcycle approaching.

the thought of what would have happened to you if you hadn’t moved chills you to the bone. or if the phone hadn’t decided to warn you, or if it chose a more severe threat. you shudder.

the message is clear: ‘i can get rid of you anytime i want.’

you sigh.

you: okay fine i'll figure it out you piece of shit.

you slam the flip phone shut, not giving the other side a chance to reply. huh, that’s really satisfying, maybe you should switch your actual phone to one of these for that effect.

you sigh in frustration, the happiness and satisfaction from finally getting to glimpse underneath sunghoon’s stoic exterior now completely gone. 

the phone’s words run around in your head, haunting you. there’s still no way you were going to manipulate someone into falling in love with you, but you have to figure something out, and fast.

something has to give, and you hope to hell it won’t be the ground underneath your feet.

you’ve been on edge ever since the motorcycle incident a few days ago, constantly paranoid that someone is following you or set to attack you.

it feels like every day is spent looking over your shoulder, and you are, which is probably why you bump into another student so hard, on the way to find a secluded corner to eat in. 

you feel their hands grasp the sides of your waist to balance you before you yelp and jump back, finally realizing who it is when you do.

“oh gosh, i’m so sorry.”

then, remembering your first encounter you laugh, “looks like i’m the one bumping into you now, huh?”

you expect to see a smile or chuckle in response from the usually genial guy, but instead you're met with jake’s expressionless countenance.

you raise your eyebrows, about to ask if everything is alright, but jake interrupts you.

“sorry, but can we talk?”

you’re flabbergasted at the chill permeating his words, but you nod immediately, sensing the mood shift to something more serious.

jake on the other hand is incredibly frustrated as he walks with a brisk pace to the closest storage closet (again, why are there so many?)

you follow, even more confused now that this is apparently a conversation that has to be done in private.

when you turn after shutting the door, jake looks like he doesn’t want to be here at all, which is hilarious because he’s the one who brought you here?

jake inhales deeply before speaking, “be honest, are you stalking me?”

“what?!” your jaw drops, not entirely believing those words actually came out of his mouth. the notion to you is downright insane, because why would you go around stalking jake of all people?

you shake your head, disturbed, “what are you talking about?”

“i keep seeing you around after that first time we met; it looks innocent and coincidental, but you could easily be staging this. not to mention the phone.”

you have no idea what the second part of your sentence means, so you focus on the first part.

“we’re in a high school? we’re probably just in the same place? dude, i promise i’m not following you around, hell i don’t know how you’ve been seeing me when i haven’t been seeing you.”

seeing his unconvinced expression, you continue, “look, while i think being good enough in something to compete is incredibly cool, why would i be stalking a mathlete? i hate math!”

jake looks at you like you have a few screws loose.

“why would you be stalking me?” he repeats incredulously.

you nod.

“i’m a model. if you’re going to pretend you’re not stalking me, at least have a believable defense.”

now this is just ridiculous, you roll your eyes. “yeah sure. and i’ve sold a million copies of a book.”

not done with berating this liar, you continue, “the only model i’ve heard of going to our school is sim jaeyun!”

while jake was initially dead set on confronting you before this turns out like last time, the situation has just gotten bizarre.

“i’m sim jaeyun.”

“what.”

“that’s me.”

you shake your head, feeling like you’re speaking to a child, “no, you’re jake.”

“yes. that’s my nickname,” jake for his part, also feels like he’s speaking to a child.

he snaps himself out of it, “okay fine, i get all that, but that doesn’t change the fact that you forgot that phone with me and i kept it to give it back to you, but all of a sudden it disappeared? i took it with me and then it disappeared. so either you tried to get it back, or someone else stole it.”

a chill runs through you; you know exactly why the flip phone disappeared from jake’s possession. but there’s no way to explain that without sounding absolutely insane.

so you lie.

“i don’t know man, i’ve never seen that phone in my life. i didn’t even know it was in my backpack, which is why i freaked out a bit.”

you shrug, hoping to sell it.

jake stares at you for over a minute, trying to read your expression and determine if you truly were innocent. he must see what he’s looking for, because he sighs, and his shoulders relax.

“sorry, that was a pretty serious accusation. i just, dealt with a similar situation before and i didn’t react quick enough back then and it had severe consequences.”

you shake your head, “all cool. your evidence was mildly incriminating at least.”

he nods, “yeah, but still…”

“i was wondering,” you hesitate, not sure if asking would be going too far, “why are you alone so much? last time i met you, you were eating alone here for no reason.”

and jake could lie. he could brush it off. he could put up a big smile and let this opportunity to open up pass like every other one that’s come his way. and for a split second he’s about to, but then.

jake sighs. It’s not like anyone would believe the world of an odd, bright-eyed girl over him anyways. so even if you did open your mouth and blab to everyone about your conversation, no harm done, right?

“everyone hangs around me because they have something to gain or they’re impressed by some superficial trait i possess. no one sees me. not for who i am.”

you raise a brow, “which is?”

he pauses, not having expected that question and not entirely having an answer, but his mind flicks to one of his biggest grievances. that everyone only saw a pretty face and underestimated his intelligence. constantly.

“... smart?”

you burst out laughing, prompting a flinch from the teenage model. jake frowns at you, sure he doesn’t expect you to understand that even someone like him can struggle, but this is a little cruel isn’t it?

he voices as much, “hey… i bare my heart out to you, and you laugh at me. i know there are worse things, but–”

you interrupt him with wide eyes, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, “no, sorry! it’s just, when you were talking about being seen, i wasn’t expecting you to name something that’s also superficial.

he adjusts against the metal shelf, pursing his lips. “what do you mean?”

“well, intelligence is also something you’re born with, no?”

jake rolls his eyes, surprising you with his increasingly lax demeanour, “that’s something stupid people say to excuse themselves from learning and improving.”

now this actually prompts some derision from you, coming out in the form of an incredulous snort.

“not quite. you can learn things and grow smarter, yes, but some people are gifted with a natural intelligence. i don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right to use that as a metric when it’s not that simple.”

jake hums, contemplating, “what qualities do you look for in people, then?”

“like,” you pause, “loyalty, passion, dedication, kindness, humour, empathy, patience.”

you take a deep breath to continue, but get interrupted by jake, who’s laughing a little.

“i think i get it, that’s interesting. i’ve never thought of it like that before, but… you’re right.”

you smile, a little smug at coming out of this conversation with the upper hand.

jake, in the meantime, runs over what you’ve just said in his head several times. none of the people he surrounds himself with have a nearly similar line of thinking, and it’s exhausting.

hearing from you that the qualities you’re born with are the ones that don’t matter is a breath of fresh air, and jake can’t go back to the smog after experiencing it.

“hang out with me?” jake blurts before he can think about it.

he stiffens immediately and he rushes to clarify, a little upset at himself for being like this.

“not. like, in a date way. i want to be friends.”

you just give him an odd look, “i didn’t think it would be romantic?”

and it’s a little hypocritical, but that mildly offends jake, because why not?

he pouts, “what, why not? are you too good for someone vain like me?”

you laugh and shake your head, “no, no that’s not it. no one’s ever seen me like that, i mean.”

maybe it’s more of the phone’s words ringing around in your head, yelling at you that you’re unlovable, but it’s not like the phone lied. no one has ever confessed to you, or pursued you romantically.

your mind flashes briefly to the boy who left his number for you, but you shoo the thought away. if he was really interested in you, why didn’t he just speak to you? it wasn’t like you had claws or anything scary.

deep in your musing, you don’t notice the dumbfounded expression on jake’s face. how in the world has no one had a crush on you before? sure, it’s not like jake does either, but he isn’t blind, or stupid.

you were kind and pretty. and probably a bunch of those other qualities you had listed earlier. before he can make any sort of response, the bell rings, startling the two of you.

you gasp, looking at jake with a stink-eye, “you took up my entire lunch?”

“sorry, i’ll make it up to you?” jake responds with a sheepish grin.

you shake your head lightheartedly and turn to leave, exasperated but clearly not upset. before you can turn the knob though you feel jake clasp your wrist.

“wait!” he clears his throat, “add my number? so we can talk. and stuff.”

ah, this is so awkward. it’s been so incredibly long since he has made friends authentically.

you smile and agree. your smile only drops abruptly much later, when you’re in your seat and you realize you’re doing exactly what the flip phone wants. guilt fills your stomach and the idea of any of the pair finding out and thinking this is the only reason you became friends almost kills you where you sit.

although unwillingly, you have made progress on target number one. good thing you don’t notice target number two’s intense stare, because it might have truly taken you out.

sunghoon listens patiently as you explain the intricacies of online books versus published books on your way to the weekly event-planning meeting with your teacher.

except, imagine his surprise when you arrive and instead of their teacher there, waiting to cover what they had accomplished in the past week, there’s a bunch of other students?

you stop speaking at the same time sunghoon freezes, also noting the odd situation. simultaneously, the two of you back out to check the room number again.

nope, it’s the right room. 

the two of you exchange a cautious glance before venturing to enter the room despite the students occupying it.

seemingly noticing the confusion apparent on both your faces, a boy with bright eyes who exudes a sort of feline air, (if that’s possible?!), speaks to you.

“are you two part of the event-planning committee?”

you nod gingerly, still feeling a bit like you’ve stepped into the twilight zone, “yes?”

the end of the word pitches up, coming across as a question rather than a response. the boy just smiles kindly.

“apparently, we’re having a monthly meeting with every class’s representatives,” he explains. 

you feel comfortable enough to lead sunghoon into sitting where the boy is, although there are three others clustered there, not really interested by newcomers. there are also other groups scattered around the empty classroom, but you don’t think inserting yourself in any of them would be a good idea, given that they hadn’t looked up in the least when you entered.

they nod at you when the two of you sit down, but leave the introductions to the boy who spoke. it doesn’t escape your notice that literally all of their gazes hang onto sunghoon for a bit before looking away.

you’re starting to believe there’s some kind of lore, for lack of better words, behind why sunghoon is mildly ostracised amongst the school and yet also has an incredibly high love count.

you tear your gaze away from the other boys, however, when the boy who greeted you speaks.

“i’m jungwon, this is sunoo, this is ni-ki, and this is heeseung,” jungwon gestures to each of the boys respectively, who do some sort of acknowledgement upon being mentioned.

“nice to meet you! i’m y/n,” you pause looking over to sunghoon, who looks like there about a million other places he’d rather be right now, “and this is sunghoon.”

you ignore the gnawing idea that they definitely know who sunghoon is and don’t look too keen on meeting him.

instead, you focus on the bright smile you receive from jungwon, “nice to meet you too, so i guess you’re a second year then?”

he’s most likely referring to the fact that you’re with sunghoon, but you respond without acknowledging it, “yes! i transferred here a couple months ago, though.”

jungwon nods, “makes sense why i haven’t seen you around then, ni-ki here is a transfer too!” 

he ruffles said boy’s hair while he says so, ignoring ni-ki’s yelp and complaining that he’s ruining his styled hair. ni-ki doesn’t retaliate though, too absorbed in whatever game he’s playing on his switch right now.

“so,” you attempt to speak casually, “what are we all waiting for?”

this time it’s sunoo, if you remember correctly, who pipes up, “the teacher who initiated this event!”

he continues with an eye-roll, “real classy of him to be running late after emphasizing how important being on time was.”

you smile, endeared by both of the boys' behaviour. it seems jungwon and his group of friends have a lot of personality. even heeseung, who looks to be on another plane of existence thanks to his zoning out.

ni-ki mutters a curse when he loses the level yet again, shoving the switch into heeseung’s chest petulantly, “fine, you can do it for me.”

heeseung just gives a smug smirk back as he gets to accomplishing what ni-ki was unable to do in your short time in the classroom. now that his attention is free, ni-ki finally gives the two of you a good look.

“so how’d you get drafted onto the committee, volunteered or voluntold?” he waggles his eyebrows slightly, and you smile at the clear attempt to be friendly.

you nudge sunghoon’s hand gently, trying to see if he’d like to answer, but when a second goes by, you speak up instead, not wanting the boy to go unanswered.

“voluntold,” you speak with faux dramatics, satisfied to hear a chuckle from heeseung even as he plays and smiles from the other boys.

“yeah, same,” sunoo mourns, pouting exaggeratedly.

you venture a questioning glance towards sunghoon, curious as to why he’s gone back into his shell. noting that the boys have become absorbed into a conversation that you are evidently welcome to join, but does not centre around you, you pull your phone out to send a message.

you: what’s up with you?

when sunghoon feels a buzz in his pocket, he glances at you curiously, putting the dots together. a small smile makes its home on his face when reading, before he responds.

park sunghoon: Contrary to what you might believe, I still don’t like hanging out with people

park sunghoon: This school is unkind

the kindness thing had sort of become an inside joke between the two of you by now, so you could recognize that he’s being playful, but at the same time an undercurrent of truth seemed to run behind it.

instead, you just send a quick response before visibly putting your phone away.

you: they seem nice though, just give it a try.

sunghoon doesn’t respond, knowing you wouldn’t see it anyway. he does, however, consider the suggestion. he’s entirely conflicted. you don’t know what he’s gone through before you transferred here. at the same time, none of these boys are involved with that incident. 

maybe you’re onto something.

for now though, he stays silent, content to watch you interact and bond with these people instead. even though he’s seen it before, your ease in human connection is truly something astonishing to witness.

it’s a gift not many have, to be able to recognize boundaries and communicate at a level that matches your conversation partner.

to your surprise, it’s heeseung who’s been relatively quiet compared to the younger boys until now who suggests exchanging social media. sunghoon raises a brow, but says nothing from where he’s leaning against a desk.

after you’ve given the boys your account, you’re about to perhaps try and suggest exchanging numbers as well so you could include sunghoon, but before you can say anything, a teacher walks in.

presumably the teacher sunoo had been shading earlier.

he talks about compiling everyone’s efforts so far, and so the next hour is spent basically catching up the entire committee on the progress each team has made towards the festival.

evidently, this does not go as well as expected, because the man listens to each recounting with a slight frown, noting that several teams had been exploring the same things and basically doing tasks that others had already done.

he shakes his head as he speaks, “this structure is very inefficient, we’re repeating work like this. instead, moving forward i’ll be dividing you into teams targeted towards different aspects.”

the teacher goes on to make several divisions, including accommodations towards different disabilities, vendors, decoration, entertainment, and the like.

he hesitates, seemingly making a choice between two equally conflicting options, “you can all choose your own groups, i suppose. based on the people here, each team will have five or six people.”

your eyes immediately find sunghoon’s, who’s done the same, before snapping to the other boys nearby after a few seconds. the agreement that you’d be a team seems to fall even without any words.

in the end, you go up with jungwon to write down all of your names under the ‘promotion’ task force. it seems the conflict you had earlier has been solved as, being a team, the six of you have to exchange numbers to make a group chat anyways.

you smile, beyond elated at the possibility of actually having friends, and not ones who behave strangely like sunghoon and jake.

more than that, though, is happiness at the possibility of sunghoon gaining more connections as well. maybe it’s not your place, but sometimes you look at sunghoon and you feel an immense aura of loneliness. 

and it would make you incredibly happy to see sunghoon happy, to see him learn that kindness isn’t so uncommon. because admittedly, at this point you are friends.

although you’ve started speaking to the other boys more after that fateful meeting, you had reckoned you’re more on the level of acquaintances.

apparently not, because during your wandering (jake had some shoot to go to, leaving you unable to have lunch with him) near the gardens outside, you caught their attention. hell, you didn’t even know they hung out here during lunch time, but you supposed it only made sense considering you had never seen them inside before.

you also hadn’t expected said observation to lead jungwon to calling you to them with a, “hey, y/n, over here!”

you look around in confusion, before pointing at yourself with confusion.

sunoo laughs, “no, the other y/n behind you.”

despite knowing it’s a sarcastic joke, you play along and whip your head to look behind you, and gasp loudly at a supposed second y/n.

a shy smile lights up your face when you hear laughter. so you are funny, you had started to think you had lost it with the way you had remained absolutely friendless for so long. 

you make your way over to the group, desperately hoping they won’t notice you’re alone.

of course, this doesn’t happen.

“where were you going?” ni-ki questions, not unkind, but curious.

you cough, a little embarrassed, “the single friend i’ve managed to make so far has other plans today, so i’ve been abandoned…”

heeseung raises a brow, “i think i saw sunghoon sitting alone by the west end entrance earlier though?”

you shake your head, a little embarrassed, “not him, we’re friends, but we’ve never really had lunch together because i don’t know if he wants to?”

jungwon nods with understanding, “he’s always been a bit of a lone wolf, i was surprised to see him so comfortable with you at the meeting.”

“comfortable?” you laugh a bit, thinking he’s making a joke, but no, the boy is serious.

“well, yeah, usually sunghoon’s in a bad mood.” 

he mutters an ‘understandably,’ but then raises his voice again, “but he seemed very calm and at peace. i don’t know.”

jungwon shrugs slightly, ending off with, “just my thoughts.”

sunoo watches the exchange with keen eyes, noting your demeanour and reaction to all of this.

he brings out a bright smile to speak, “anyway, forget that for now, sit with us! now heeseung won’t look like a creep hanging out with first years despite being a third year.”

heeseung yelps with indignation, “hey! if i recall correctly, ni-ki over here is the one who begged me to join you guys. i have third year friends too!”

ni-ki rushes to defend himself, “because you’re the captain of the basketball team! if they see me hanging out with you, they’ll think ‘oh, he used to be captain’s friend’ when we’re deciding the captain next year.”

heeseung shakes his head, “see, they just use you.”

you hold your hand out for a fist bump from the teen, laughing at the third year’s scandalized expression, “he’s just trying to be a nepo-baby. i don’t see an issue.”

jungwon laughs, “that’s not– well, i guess.”

you have an incredibly enjoyable lunch with the boys, sunoo making sure to let you know you’re always welcome to eat with them. they’d usually be out here, but if they aren’t you should shoot a text and they’d let you know where they are.

as he speaks, a chime comes from your backpack, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from pulling the flip phone phone out and smashing it on the concrete.

you know it’s that stupid phone because yours is currently in your pocket. while you’re tempted to see whatever taunt the entity has left you now, you’re not keen on shooting your blood pressure through the roof.

so there it lies, in your backpack, ignored as you laugh along with the boys’ jokes and converse with them.

life at decelis is finally looking good.

despite the boys’ insistence that sunghoon seems to be comfortable with you, you can’t shake off the fear of bothering him.

sure, they think he looks like he enjoys being in your presence, but considering what you know about sunghoon, you’re unsure. which is why the next time jake’s unable to have lunch together (another photoshoot.) and you’re left alone, you hem and haw.

conflicted between sitting next to sunghoon or sending the boys a text like they had encouraged you to do, instead you end up doing neither and glare holes into sunghoon’s lunch.

unfortunately, as anyone would, sunghoon notices the intense gaze being levelled at him and catches your eye, startling you. he raises an eyebrow, both amused and exasperated by your focus.

you shake your head as sort of a ‘it’s nothing, disregard.’

of course, sunghoon doesn’t care and he gestures you over anyways. you sigh, well whether you like it or not the choice is made for you now.

you make your way over to sunghoon’s desk, trying hard not to focus on your fellow classmates’ curious eyes and whispers. yah, sunghoon is such a headache.

he doesn’t speak even when you arrive, staring at you until you pull a chair to sit across from him at his desk.

“so what was the laser focus for,” sunghoon’s tone seems to be teasing, but you can’t exactly discern if you’re right.

you mumble, “was wondering if we should use this time to speak,” and then you notice his blank stare and panic, backtracking a bit.

“i mean. about planning for the festival.”

“planning,” somehow sunghoon doesn’t seem convinced and you don’t want to figure out why that is.

you still don’t meet his eyes, “right.”

“without the rest of our team,” ah, there it is.

you nervously laugh it off though, “yeah, that’s why i was considering it, we’d have to find the others as well.”

you wonder how speaking to sunghoon had seemed so easy before, when now it felt like his eyes are capable of gazing uncomfortably deep into your soul. he looks around the classroom, noticing several people jerk their attention away after being caught, and rolls his eyes.

sunghoon gets up, which wow, you knew maybe you aren’t the best company, but that’s a tad rude?

to your surprise however, he looks expectantly at you when he’s standing.

“let’s go for a walk,” sunghoon finally says when it seems the brain waves he’s sending your way aren’t being received.

you nod dumbly, a little stunned as you follow him out of the classroom.

when you’re a good distance away and now roaming the sparse halls, sunghoon finally speaks.

“there were way too many people paying attention,” he sighs, “i’ll never understand the interest in other people’s business.”

you bite back the retort that it’s less other people’s business, and more his business they’re interested in, fearing this talkative (for him) mood sunghoon’s in will disappear.

and despite your initial reasoning that this interaction is for the event, you don’t bring up the planning at all, instead choosing to mention that your neighbours got a dog instead, and that it kept you up at night.

sunghoon’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of topic being completely unrelated to the festival, but he chooses to simply respond to what you’ve said instead.

and so you make rounds, talking about anything but the event. embarrassingly enough, you even spot your team members at one point, although sunghoon doesn’t notice them and it seems jungwon’s the only one who notices you, sunoo being in an animated discussion with ni-ki and heeseung being missing.

he smirks at the two of you, while you just narrow your eyes, daring him to say something. jungwon shakes his head and looks away, letting you off the hook for now, but definitely planning on bringing it up later.

well. that’s later you’s problem. for now you can relax and enjoy the rich timber of sunghoon’s voice along with the admittedly pleasant decelis atmosphere.

you guess its inherent clique-y-ness isn’t so bad once you actually have people to hang out with.

now that you have sunghoon to hang out with. you’ve spoken and interacted with sunghoon countless times over the past month, but this is the first time you feel that the circumstances with the event planning have nothing to do with it. like sunghoon actually enjoys your company.

so of course you have to open your big mouth and ruin that.

in an attempt to prolong the conversation, even as the toll of the bell looms closer, you say the following:

“by the way, did you know there’s a skating competition happening at the rink near decelis this weekend?”

immediately, it’s as if the vitality has been drained from sunghoon.

he freezes, then when you stop walking as well, he puts on a neutral expression but it looks wrong. forced.

“really? that’s… cool.”

you furrow your brows, “is something wrong?”

and wow, that’s something sunghoon’s wanted someone to care about for years. for just one person to look at park sunghoon and not see an ice skater, incapable of (forbidden from) messing up. for them to see a human being pushed to the brink, desperate to live up to the expectations.

just for someone to ask, even.

he chuckles sardonically, “no. yes. i don’t know.”

“do you want to… talk about it?” you venture tentatively.

sunghoon shakes his head, “no.”

but then he adds on after a few seconds, “not now at least.”

right before you’re set to enter the classroom, sunghoon grasps your shoulder and pulls you back gently to mutter. you stiffen, his mouth is way too close to your ear, it feels intimate.

“thank you for asking,” he pauses, “and caring.”

before you can compose a response, he lets go of your shoulder and brushes past you to rush inside.

you grasp at your ear robotically, eyes wide, and inexplicably flustered. you didn’t know why you felt so affected, but it’s a euphoric feeling.

after several last minute commitments and cancellations, it’s finally time for you to eat lunch with jake again. admittedly, while you want to get pissed off at the guy for blowing you off several times in a row, you can’t.

in your opinion, it’s understandable that he doesn’t have much time to dedicate outside of his literal job. although with how often he’s running off and missing school, you’re surprised it’s still legal.

aren’t there some child labour laws that should be getting enforced?

regardless, it’s been around a week since you’ve last seen jake, and you’re not ashamed to admit you’re excited to see him again.

you wait in yet another of decelis’ storage closets, this time you and jake actually planning to meet there instead of happening to meet or getting dragged there.

while you wait you decide to examine your surroundings with a bored gaze. nothing interesting, except for the fine film of dust coating everything and causing you to sneeze every five seconds.

it seems this closet is especially unused.

unfortunately, jake enters during a loud sneezing fit and it’s evident on his face that it’s all he can do to stop himself from bursting into laughter at your state. 

he shakes his head, amused, “i think we should probably go out to eat.”

“wait no, i’m fine! i just–” you interrupt yourself with a thunderous sneeze, “need to get used to it…”

this time the gaze he levels at you is deadpan, as sort of a ‘really…?’

but to save you from embarrassment, jake disregards the blatant lie, “it’s fine, i forgot to pack a lunch anyway. let’s go.”

you sigh, getting off the floor and only mildly cringing at the dirt that’s collected upon you during your stay in the space. maybe jake is on to something; you can only imagine how many diseases you’re possibly contracting.

“so, where were you thinking?” you ask curiously, struggling a bit to keep pace with jake’s speed.

if sunghoon is like the winter: cool, arid, and measured, jake is the summer: energetic, loud, and headlong.

you wonder what would happen if the two were to meet, a friendship for the ages, or an intense showdown? of the unstoppable force versus immovable object kind. you’re pondering who would be which when you’re pulled back to reality by a hand waving in front of your face.

“hellooo?” this doesn’t seem to be jake’s first time calling you.

you respond quickly, embarrassed, “yes, sorry?”

he snorts, “man, i thought you were just quiet because you were hungry, but you were on a whole other planet just now.”

any possible protest is cut off when you realize the two of you have actually arrived at some of the mom-and-pop restaurants that had set up near decelis, attracted by the hub of student activity and guaranteed customers.

you muse, “hmm, will we make it back in time?”

“doesn’t matter,” jake’s smile is something between mischievous and eager, “what’s one skipped class?”

you smack his arm slightly, “you of all people have no right to say that, you’ve probably attended what, six classes so far?”

when jake gasps in mock offense, claiming he’s not that bad, you give him an unimpressed stare.

“do you even know your teacher’s name?” you squint at the boy.

“of course, it’s…” jake flounders, before whining, “you gave me a hard one.”

“sure i did,” you roll your eyes, “have you chosen what you want to eat yet?”

jake’s responding silence tells you everything you need to know, his sheepish gaze meeting yours when you glance at him.

“what’s good here?” he ventures.

you shake your head, exasperated, “i bet you hadn’t even looked at the menu yet.”

“i heard their yangnyeom chicken slaps, though,” you add on, deciding to grant him mercy.

jake hums in acknowledgement, but he looks a bit… hesitant.

then it clicks, “wait, are you not allowed to eat stuff like that?”

he is a model after all…

seemingly caught, jake looks at you in surprise, before rushing to deny, “no! if it’s just once…”

you shake your head, “i was planning on just eating this later, but i had some bibimbap for lunch if you want to eat that?”

it would be considerably healthier after all.

and if you had any doubts earlier, the exhale of relief that jake lets out is enough to tell you that you made the right choice. 

(unfortunately you lose in another battle for paying for your food; although this time you genuinely feel you have no grounds as jake insists it's the least he can do after taking your lunch. touché.)

when you eventually receive your order and settle down at an outdoor picnic bench with jake, you pull out your tupperware, a pair of chopsticks, and a spoon to give to him while speaking.

“it’s really not my business, but are you okay with such a strict diet?”

jake shrugs, “it’s alright. it’s not like i never eat anything i want to, but sometimes it is frustrating.”

you look at him curiously, setting up your own food, “you like modelling in general, though?”

jake pauses, thinking it through thoroughly for the first time in a while, “... the verdict is still up. it can be very satisfying. and yet i can’t decide if it’s worth the sacrifices it comes with. this shit tastes so good by the way, did your mom make this?”

you laugh at the dichotomy between his dialogues, only laughing harder when jake sends a confused puppy-esque look your way. 

eventually upon calming down, you let him know, “actually, i made it. and by sacrifices do you mean like. missing out on school?”

jake’s jaw drops open slightly, “no way, you made this?”

you narrow your eyes, “what, you don’t think i can?”

he laughs, “no it’s just… you should open a restaurant or something. it tastes like home.”

the wistful light in his eyes leads you to believe you should probably leave the earlier line of questioning alone, so you don’t bring it up.

still, after a few moments of eating in quiet peace, jake speaks up, “it’s less school and more… i miss having friends. i used to be on the football team in middle school, and we would all goof around. i can’t get that anywhere now.”

“nowhere?”

he sighs, “you know, i meant it when i said people only see a pretty face, earlier. if guys aren’t pissed off at me because their crush likes me, they’re jealous that i get good grades. or some other inane bullshit.”

you consider his words, before speaking quietly, “i think you just have to find the right people.”

“believe me,” jake rests his cheek onto one of his palms, leaning an elbow on the table, “i’ve tried.”

and maybe it’s not your place, but you cautiously suggest, “actually, the friends i’ve made here have been nothing but kind and nonjudgmental.”

now jake is looking at you with suspicion, “you’ve only been here a couple months! and just a little bit ago you were saying you had no friends. zero.”

you roll your eyes, “well you don’t have to rub it in. and yeah, i probably don’t know the extent of their character, but sometimes you can just tell. the kindness someone shows you when they have absolutely no reason to, it sticks. and also i’ve been friends with one of them for over a month now!”

the boy mutters, “very impressive,” with sarcasm, but he seriously considers what you’re saying.

sure, you could be wrong, but the feeling you're describing is the same one he had about you. that ‘this is a good person, and i’ll remember them for the rest of my life.’

jake gives in, “alright, introduce me to your friends.”

CLICK ME TO CONTINUE READING

TAGS.

@ashtxrie @mioons @won4kiss @txnwvc @mygnolia @vivi-nin @laylasbunbunny @coqhee @boyfhee @sungbyhoon @viagumi @strxwbloody @dreamiestay @doublebunv @hoodiebangtan @lol6sposts @neos127 @capri-cuntz @junislqve @itulipy @woorcve

[moon-reblogs]

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored. 

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?” 

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum. 

--

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him. 

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions. 

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child. 

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.” 

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes. 

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours. 

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back. 

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate. 

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion. 

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss. 

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you. 

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands. 

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against  the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all. 

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern. 

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking. 

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon. 

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

--

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past. 

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake. 

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright. 

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles. 

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

--

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes. 

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?” 

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come. 

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in. 

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth. 

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him. 

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

--

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting. 

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one. 

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter. 

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.” 

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.  

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him. 

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

��Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.” 

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed. 

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

--

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks. 

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to. 

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing. 

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

--

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out. 

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

--

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream. 

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh. 

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

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[moon-reblogs]

BREAK THE ICE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss?

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), mentions of drinking, alcohol and partying, slight miscommunications, lots of overthinking

WC: 25k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: coming back w another cheesy hockey romance hehehe, here's a spin-off of jake's part in no competition that has a little bit of elements from each part! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

part 3.5 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2024 all rights reserved.

You weren't expecting your first landed punch to happen on a random Friday night. 

The club was packed with people, overly stuffed to the brim that it eventually became sauna level hot. It didn't help that you had to squeeze past the crowd either, trying to keep your balance and not topple over your own two feet was a hard challenge. Which one of your friends said that it would be a fun idea having a birthday party in a popular club? Now, you've got to face the repercussions of their impulsive planning. 

It was also common knowledge that the club was one of the unsafest places to be, so when you felt someone grab your hand from behind in the midst of you squeezing through the crowd, tugging you and causing you to stumble, your first reaction wasn't exactly friendly.

Maybe it was both a rash decision and reaction, but you turned around, the hand no longer on you to even determine who had held onto you, then proceeded to throw a quick punch at the guy you're facing. You didn't even know if he was the actual one that did so, the amount of anger and rage that coursed through your veins had spurred you on to thrust your fist forward before a second thought. Judging from the guy's reaction, he was not the one, and it only clicked once he held his nose in pain.

"What the hell?" His yell above the music was audible to distinguish the confusion and annoyance in his voice. "Are you crazy?"

In the dimness of the club and the hat on his head, you couldn't fully tell who he was, or if he was bleeding from the punch to his nose, but you do know for sure that he was angry. The hat that he wore had the letter 'J' on it, and it was tilted upwards from the impact. He fixed it as immediately as you had noticed it. 

"I'm so sorry," you were panicking, trying to meet his eyes that were basically impossible to make out in the darkness and the cover of his hat. How were you going to pull your infamous puppy pleading eyes to get yourself out of trouble? "Look, I felt someone grabbing me from behind, and you were … behind me, so I turned around and punched you thinking you were the one who pulled me," 

He could tell you were panicking, though your reason was quite reasonable, he was also rightfully mad at you. The guy before you took a minute before responding, most likely figuring out what to say next. "It wasn't me who grabbed you, it was probably some guy in between us that fled away once you turned around. I can understand your reaction but please don't punch people as your first instinct,"

You winced, mostly in embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry, really. You're not hurt, right?"

"It's just a punch, I'm not bleeding.  I've gotten worse, don't worry," he waved you off, the tension in the stuffy club air was lifted. You couldn't tell if he was actually being serious or just trying to make it situation less serious, either way he was convincing to say the least. However, it was hard not to feel the aftermath of guilt for punching someone accidentally.

"I can get you drinks—"

"Nah, it's fine, really. Go buy a drink for yourself instead," he cut you off, waving his hand once again in dismissal. "I'm just glad you're safe. Even though I got a punch out of it,"

He might've laughed, but you could only let out a small chuckle, still embarrassed. It was amazing how the man was able to recover himself this quickly. "Thanks for not pressing charges or anything. Have a good night,"

"You too, sweets." 

Him leaving right after calling you that was not nice at all. You found yourself stunned and replaying the moment. You just punched a guy, he was actually nice to you instead of being mad, and he called you 'sweets'? You might have just fallen in love. 

Breathing out a sigh of mixed astonishment and relief, you regained your composure and continued your way out of the crowd. You've never been so glad to find the booth your friends were at, the panic did take a toll on you and all you needed was a shot. 

Wonyoung was the first to approach you, her arms outstretched to pull you into a brief hug. "Hey! What took you so long?"

"Punched a guy. Don't ask."

She made a face at what you said, but decided not to question it either. "Okay? Was he cute though?"

"He was…I think?"

This wasn't how you imagined your first hockey game to turn out.

Thanks to your best friend, Anton's constant convincing and overly exaggerated praises for the school's hockey team, you were eventually dragged to one of their games against a big rival of another college. With the way he was explaining the rules and the rivalry, you were surprised at how the swimmer was an actual big fan of the sport. Even as you sat in the stands, successfully turning up to the game, he could, however, still sense your doubt.

"You're going to enjoy this one," he nudged your side, sounding confident till the point where it had you convinced for a second. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Would I?" 

"Come on! Don't be a hater. I'm trying to welcome you to the world of sports," 

"I just don't get the hype of watching a bunch of men skating around with sticks and chasing after a puck," you huffed, standing your ground. Anton should be lucky you tolerated swimming enough to watch all his tournaments. "It's like football but on ice,"

"Either way, at least you'll still get to see some hot guys," he gave a small shrug, seeing your face morphing into that 'you have a point' type of look. Maybe that part had you convinced, even if it was the slightest.

You didn't need Anton to specifically point out which player was cute either, your eyes were already straying to them warming up on the ice. Although you were seated far up, you were able to tell from the glimpses on the jumbotron that number seven, 'JAEHYUN MYUNG', was a total cutie. 

"Time to turn up to every game for number seven," you murmured quietly to Anton, watching him roll his eyes in response. But apparently, it wasn't whispered with enough silence. 

A cough coming from beside you  immediately made your smile drop, an awkward smile made its way to your face to try to diffuse the momentary embarrassment. You turned to glance at the stranger slightly. The hat he had on shielded most of his face, especially when he was staring down on his phone, it only made it harder to make out his identity. Has he been listening all along?

Wait. That hat. 

The same hat with the letter 'J' sat on the stranger's head. The one that was on the man you encountered (punched) the night before. Could it be …?

You didn't think much of the guy next to you, not when he was busy with his phone and hiding his face away from you to figure out anyway. Once the game started, your attention had been averted to the ice and all of the moving figures on it. The roaring crowd left you in awe, it seemed the players, too, were basking in the limelight and trying their very best in scoring. 

The first two periods had raised the tension in the arena. You, and everyone, including Anton and the guy next to you, had jumped out of your seats too many times. The stranger was the most passionate amongst the bunch in your area. Shouting tactics and cursing at every missed chance, he might as well be the coach. 

The nearly scored goals were too much to handle. You got the adrenaline of watching the team play against their rivals with such ferocity, joining the crowd in every 'ooo' or 'ahhh'. Soon enough, you finally understood the passionate love Anton had for the sport. 

"See? Hockey is fun," Anton sat back down after the second period was over and the short break commenced, the scoreboard displaying the current leading scores of the home team.

"Yeah, yeah, I take it back," you waved him off dismissively, hating his shit-eating grin that screamed 'told you so'. You turned away from him to avoid that exact expression, gaze drifted up towards the jumbotron instead, spotting an interesting sight. "Hockey games have this?" You pointed up at the screen.

'KISS CAM' 

Written in bold pink, cursive font, it was almost like a slap to your face. Look, you've seen this everywhere online, those clips of people being on kiss cams, but to think you're going to be witnessing it in flesh, that's new. You weren't going to be the victim of it … right?

"Oh, the kiss cam? It's a frequent thing they have here. It started off as some charity thing but people loved it so they made it permanent," 

"I can see why they love it," you mumbled, watching the screen panning to a pair that was caught off guard, the rest of the crowds cheering for them once they shared a kiss. 

One thing about paranoia was that it's either just a bugging anxiety or a premonition that your gut had. For you in that present situation, it was the latter. Your paranoia foreshadowed your biggest nightmare.

Your conversation with Anton in that moment had distracted you completely from whatever that was happening. That was until you heard the crowd cheering and saw Anton's widening pupils, you soon realised something was up, something not good. 

The camera of that kiss cam had its focus on you, but unlike what you predicted, it wasn't you and your best friend that occupied the screen, it was you and the stranger next to you. Speaking of him, he was staring directly at you, the hat was tilted back a little more to reveal his face. The shock of the kiss cam couldn't amount to the shock you had when the man's identity was revealed. It was him. The guy you punched.

The darkness of the club had hid the beauty of his face, the hat itself was shielding you away from the entirety of it. No matter what, you could still tell he was attractive, very attractive. That alone caused your anxiety to increase ten fold. The minor bruise beside his eye was questionable, but the bruise on his nose was easily recognised. 

The matching shock in his eyes slipped away, an amused smirk replaced that initial surprise. "It's you again. Not punching me again, eh?"

"Stop staring and kiss already!" A voice yelled out from the crowd before you could respond, followed by a chorus of agreements. 

You hate people.

"Are you okay with me kissing you?" The smooth, yet unexpected accent that rolled off his tongue caught you off guard, it was something you just registered despite the multiple times he spoke to you, but you nodded nonetheless. As he leaned in closer, the features on his face magnified, becoming clearer. His eyes were a shade of muddy brown, plump lips pulled into a slight frown and thick eyebrows furrowed. The last thing you expected from him was his hand making contact with your face, the smoothness of his palm cupping your cheek, everything was happening in slow motion. "I need your words, sweets,"

"Kiss me," 

That was all the stranger needed to hear to pull you into the kiss. The softness of his lips melted on yours, moulding it to fit against yours. It was just like a scene brought alive from the movies. The cheers from the crowd was deafening, but the sound of it soon tuned out. 

It lasted almost a few more seconds longer before the stranger pulled away, the look of bewilderment evident in his eyes. You were stunned, and so was he. Thankfully, the kiss cam was no longer on you two, instead finding another pair to target. By then, you were still trying to compose yourself. He broke into a smile, one that was so sweet it actually made your heart skip.

"Wow," he breathed out, scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment. 

"Wow," you echoed, falling back onto your seat, feeling a set of watchful eyes from your best friend, who you knew was probably holding in a laugh on your right.

The last period of the game concluded a win for the home team. Everyone was left in high spirits. You, in particular, were feeling the same way but due to different reasons. Before you could utter another word to the guy you kissed, he was already making his way out of the stand and left no traces behind for you to follow. Was he cinderella? Well, there goes your potential soulmate. No, you were being delusional.

It was rather embarrassing to admit that you were actually disappointed. Not mildly, but by a lot. Considering the past encounter you had, you expected the guy to initiate some sort of conversation, yet he fled without trying. He didn't owe you anything, but the small hope you had internally was, undoubtedly, crushed. 

 "You're telling me now you're sad because of some guy?" Anton snorted loudly into the night as he walked you back to the dorms. Obviously, he started off by laughing at you, then asking for everything as if he wasn't making fun of you in the first place. 

"He's not just some guy," you grumbled. "He's cute and a good kisser,"

"So you just want to kiss him again?" 

"Hey!" You landed a firm slap on Anton's shoulder, earning a loud yelp from him. "I mean, a little but I just wanted to know who he was. He's that guy I met at the club,"

"Oh really?" That piqued Anton's interest, his eyebrows flying high, lips then turning into a flat line. "I guess that's the beauty of kiss cams. Kiss a stranger, or in your case, kiss and punch a stranger and live with that memory forever," he shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. 

"You're horrible,"

Your grumble only pulled a snort from him. "Plus, I thought I could help identify him but the way he wore his hat basically hid his face, how am I supposed to tell who he was?" 

"I can," you pulled a doubtful frown, wondering if you even remembered his face entirely, speaking of which seemed a little hazy in your memory. It was the shock that made everything a mush, you blamed it on the anxiety and panic. "I think,"

"You think?" Anton practically snickered at your poor choice of words and the lack of conviction in your tone. You, yourself, were equally unconvinced. "Good luck finding your prince charming, princess."

His shout of laughter was quickly drowned out by your string of thoughts. You genuinely needed that luck, because how were you going to find him again in the sea of students that roamed the campus? You could almost feel the ghost of his lips on you, and you swear you're not just ovulating. 

Good luck in finding him, indeed.

Turning up to the next game wasn't because of player number seven that initially caught your eyes, nope, not at all. Pathetically so, you were actually hoping to bump into the guy you kissed. Call it fate or something your delusional mind would end up concluding. 

Anton managed to bag you and him front row seats, meaning a closer look at the players and a nearer distance to the rink. How did your best friend successfully pull tickets out of his ass? You had no idea but you're not complaining either. 

"Don't tell me you're looking around for the guy," Anton caught you in the midst glancing around the area, a rather desperate glint in your pupils giving it away. 

"I'm … not," you said unconvincingly, flashing an innocent smile at a doubtful looking Anton. 

"Sure you're not," he mumbled, crossing his arms. "How can you even recognise him? Okay, what if he doesn't have his hat on and he's bald, then what?"

"I know for a fact that he's not bald, thank you, there were hair strands peeking out under his hat,"

"Hair cap, it's on Amazon,"

"Please shut up."

The topic of your mystery man eventually dissolved into debates of the oncoming hockey game that was about to start in a while. If you told your past self that you'd be turning into a hockey fan, you'd probably laugh out loud. But, there you were, character development going great. 

There was still a handful of time before the warm up, so you took the opportunity to slip away and out of the stands to locate the restroom. You passed some familiar faces, course mates or mutual friends, but none of which were the guy you were searching for.

Being a new fan came with a disadvantage: not knowing the place well enough to tell which way led to the restrooms. You walked down the corridor, passing the food stalls and countless students, looking like an absolute fool. 

By the time you finally located one from a distance, you were stopped by a voice coming from behind. All it took was a tap on the shoulder for you to turn your head, quick enough for a momentary whiplash upon meeting the person's eyes. 

"Hey,"

It was a man dressed in a formal suit, a backpack hung on his shoulders. He was tall and lean, but muscular enough to have an athlete's build. He could almost fit the hockey players there. But there was something about him to you that seemed familiar, yet you couldn't put an identity to the face. 

"Hi. Do I … know you?" You said, uncertain, though you knew you shouldn't be. 

The man before you cracked a small smile, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. He shook his head, probably in disbelief, but there was also a mix of amusement. "No, not quite … yet, but you do know how I kiss, and I know how you punch, so that makes us something, right?" 

Pause. It clicked. The hat wasn't there on his head, and he was not bald. That proved Anton something, but he had made a point that you had to admit was right. You forgot how the man that kissed you looked like. 

Hat guy. Kiss cam guy? Wait, first punch guy—

"Wait, you're—"

"See you," he let out a laugh, shooting you a wink, purposefully not giving you the chance to fully realise his true identity. Annoying asshole. Just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone with the wind. The initial shock only bloomed bigger, going through several stages of it. The times you prayed for his appearance led up to this moment just for it to pass by quicker than expected, rather underwhelmingly you must add. You didn't even manage to get his name!

Begrudgingly, you made your way back to your seat after the long journey to the restroom. Luckily, the warm up hasn't started and you got to mull in your own disappointment for the time being. The smell of fresh popcorn and corn dogs only made you sink into your seat further.

"Got something flushed down the toilet? Why do you look so sad?" Anton caught onto the frown you had displayed absentmindedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The one that got away,"

"Katy Perry?"

"No. The guy, my guy, I saw him just now and he said 'hi' but left after saying that, what's he in a rush for?" Your questions didn't have a concrete answer to them, but Anton sure knew how to provide some bullshit answers.

"To get away from you, maybe," 

"I'm giving everything in me to not stand up and strangle you right now."

The players of both teams were soon filing out onto the rink for warm ups. The players of the home team were easily recognisable to you after that first memorable game. There was number seven, the captain, the ace, all of which were standing out to you amongst the rest. However, an additional number five that you didn't see prior was standing with the team. His back was facing towards you, the number five sitting comfortably on his back under 'JAEYUN SIM', presumably his name. 

"Who's that? Number five. Didn't see him last game," you pointed out to the frequent game goer, Anton, who pursed his lips, nodding slightly.

"That's Jake Sim. Defender. He got suspended for the last game since he committed a foul during the game before the last one. It was quite a scene,"  

The players were skating around the rink, moving the puck as they went, shooting goals into the nets as practice. Given the clear view of everything before you, you got the chance to put your focus on player number five, Jake. The speed he was going kept you away from seeing his face, the headgear was only an additional deterrent.

Your curiosity only heightened everytime he passed, the urge to stand and knock against the glass, but that would just get you into the blacklist without doubt. The focus you kept on him was insanely intense, you wondered if he could feel you staring considering the next time he passed your section, turned his head, making a second worth of eye contact with you before skating off.

That split second had the gears in your head running. His eyes were familiar, not to mention, that face … It was him. The one that got away. And he was on the ice? As a player?

Everything made sense now. He was suspended last game which totally explained why he was sitting next to you, and that led him to kiss you and you realised he was also the same person you punched. All in one go.

By the time warm ups ended and the match was about to begin, you were able to finally swallow everything you just processed. The look on your face paired with your anxious finger taps against your lap caught Anton's attention.

"You're finally getting the pre match hockey fan anxiety, huh?" He nudged your side, startling you a little from your train of thoughts.

"No," you breathed out, eyes still trained on the rink that players were currently filing out on. Anton raised his eyebrows at you. "I found out who my guy is,"

"What?" Anton snapped his head to fully look at you now, widened eyes scanning your shock ridden features. "Who is he? Is he some guy that shares the same class as you?"

"He's the one skating on the ice right now—over there," you nodded towards the rink where players were taking their positions. Anton's eyebrows only furrowed at your lack of sufficient information.

"You're fucking kidding. Which one?"

"Jake Sim, it seems," your eyes strayed to the defender that wore the number five, upon the whistle blow, he skated off and you were left wondering. "See? He's not bald,"

"Not the point," Anton snorted, sounding nearly amused and astonished. "You punched him and kissed him all in two days? That's genuinely a meet cute,"

"You're insane. If anything, I'm just hoping he's not filing a restraining order against me,"

"Dude, he willingly kissed you and went up to you just now. I don't think that man wants a restraining order, maybe something more," he started wiggling his eyebrows, smirking playfully at you. You wanted to wipe that look off of his face. 

"Dream big, Anton, dream big."

Dreaming big was definitely what the team did in order to secure another win. Jake Sim had thankfully kept his fouling records free so far, and from what Anton mentioned, it seemed Jake has a knick for getting into fights on ice while being the opposite off ice. A man with a stark duality does sound interesting.

The team lingered on the ice after the win, making rounds to bask in the victory and greet the crowds in exchange for their endless support. You watched as the captain approached your side, calling out for Anton and waving at him.

"You know him?"

"How'd you think I got my front row tickets? We're literally party bros," he shrugged nonchalantly while your mouth dropped at the fact that he left you such crucial information. "Which means, I can set you up more easily with your man and we're also getting free booze at the after party,"

"There's an after party?"

"There's always an after party,"

The unexpected part of the night after several surprises along the way was Jake skating towards your side of the crowd, just as Heeseung did. You thought he was doing the same as his captain by greeting everyone, but you knew it wasn't exactly that when he pointed at you, eyes trained on you specifically. It was one of those moments where you looked around and went 'me?' rather embarrassingly. Your genuine confusion made him laugh and he beckoned you to come close to the glass that separated you from him. 

You obeyed, casting Anton a reluctant glance, but upon seeing his excited expression, you knew he was egging you on. It was weird, seeing Jake up close this time knowing who he was, unlike the previous encounters, this was definitely a lesser odd one.

'Catch' he mouthed multiple times until it clicked for you, the puck in his hand telling you to watch out. He threw it over the glass and lucky you, your catch was as good as his throw. Jake didn't say much, all he did was point at the puck that was in your possession, smiling sweetly before waving you goodbye and skating away to join the team.

You glanced down at the puck, pupils blown at the sight before you. It wasn't just a puck, it was one that had his number written on it in white marker ink, writings all messy but still readable. 'Text me -Jake :)' was what he signed off with, the lopsided smiley face got a snicker out of you.

"Look who's a true fan now, getting a puck and all," Anton got up to join your side as the crowd started dispersing now that the game was over. 

"I didn't just get a puck alone, I also got one step closer to him," you waved the puck in front of Anton's face, grinning pridefully. 

"I guess Cinderella's about to accomplish her search for her lost lover prince charming."

Anton truly had a way with his words by convincing you to go to the after party with him, claiming you'd reconnect with Jake and somehow a spark would happen between you two, whatever rant his delusional self came up with. To your dismay, you actually believed him. Not that it wasn't completely untrue since the hockey team would always turn up, but to approach him with everyone around when he's literally a known figure? You might need a couple of shots beforehand first.

You eventually saw Jake and the bunch of hockey players file into the room as the hollers and cheers got louder for them. Pressing yourself closer to the wall, suddenly intimidated by the strong concentration of testosterone filling the room. The constant thoughts of finding the guy you kissed and punched didn't prepare you to legitimately talk to him instead of just daydreaming about him.

As if on command, you attracted the player's attention like a moth to the flame. Anton had disappeared off to somewhere, you were left alone in a corner minding your business and playing tetris on your phone when you felt a presence behind you. 

"Boo," The presence confirmed itself and you turned around, too fast till the point where you gave yourself a whiplash, in complete disbelief at the thought of him being there. 

"Hey," you breathed out, resisting the urge to back into the wall behind you. This was not the time to start being nervous around a man.

"You didn't forget me this time, right?" Amusement flashed across his face at the mention of your blunder from earlier. You knew it was something he wasn't going to let go easily. 

"Of course not,"

"Well good. I'm Jake, Jake Sim. Engineering major and a part time hockey player," he extended his hand out, waiting for you to accept, which you did, casting him a small smile.

"Impressive. What are you? Spiderman? Living with two identities?" You joked, his confidence absolutely taking you aback. "I'm Y/N L/N, nursing major,"

"Let me guess, you minor in punching?"

You scoffed, but laughed. "How did know? I suppose yours is kissing strangers that punch you!" 

He snorted, shaking his head, the banter between you and him flowing ever so naturally. It was almost as if you two had been friends since the beginning. "I'm just playing. I'm glad to see you again, I'm sorry I didn't stay back after the game that night. I guess adrenaline got to me and I raced away to find the boys only to realised what a dumbass I was to not ask for your number,"

It was hard trying to hide your shock that he was apologizing. You didn't even expect an apology from it, let alone prepare for it. Yet, the explanation from him set your worries and overthinking to rest. "It's alright, you didn't owe me anything. I'm glad to see you again too. Congrats on the win," you were more than just glad.

A smile made its way to his lips at your words, to him it was hard resisting against a smile when it came to you. He barely knew you, yet you had a charm to you that he was not immune to. "I hope that puck was a good move,"

"It was smooth, definitely caught me off guard but it worked on me," 

Relief was evident on Jake's face, but he played it off coolly. "It didn't strike me that you're a hockey fan,"

"Well, I'm not exactly one, but my friend is and he's the reason why I'm there,"

"Who's your friend?"

"Anton,"

"Anton?" Jake repeated his name, visibly surprised. "He's your friend?"

"You know him?"

"More than just that. How come we've never met?" 

"I'm just as confused as you are. He was literally next to me that day where we—you know—appeared on the kiss cam,"

"Really? I didn't see him!"

"Well, that's because your hat practically covered half your face, I couldn't fully recognise you too. He didn't know it was you either," you snickered at the mention of his famous hat that was burnt into your memory by now. "I only found out today that he was friends with Heeseung,"

"He's friends with all of us," Jake chuckled, mostly in disbelief. What was Anton doing hiding all his hot, attractive hockey friends? He wasn't just a fan, he was friends with them. "He loves hockey, so when he found out we played for the school team at this random party, he started coming to cheer for us. Sometimes we would watch his swim tournaments too,"

"What?" You gasped, finding it surprising that you had done the same, except never once had an encounter with the group. "I went to a lot of his swim tournaments too!"

It had rendered both you and Jake speechless, the two of you staring at each other with a look of starstruck filled gazes. All this time, had there been an invisible string that tied you two together? The thought was pushed to the back of your mind as you and him laughed after a pause of silence.

"No way!" Jake exclaimed, laughing in between. 

"I'm serious! I don't know how we've never come across one another before," 

"Maybe it wasn't the right time, so fate set us up in a more … unconventional way," Jake said with a hint of playfulness that you caught on. You snorted at the realisation, knowing the incidents were something he was going to hold over your head for a long time.

"It's better than not at all,"

"You're right," he said softly, gaze dropping down to sweep over your body just to come back to meet your eyes once more. "I want to see you more actually, not just at my hockey games or some one time thing. Can I bring you out on a date? What do you say?"

"A date?" You didn't expect Jake to immediately whip out the date card, expecting him to take it slow and build up to a date that you would eventually expect. There was something in you then that invoked a sudden confidence to say such things. "I'm not just some girl you can easily score dates with,"

Jake's lips curled into a small smirk. It was his turn to be surprised and rather amused by you pulling out a surprise attack card, purposely playing hard to get which he caught onto instantly. "What can I do to score a date with you?" He wanted a challenge.

"Show me that you mean it. Earn me," you were gladly setting up something testing for him. "One week. Then I'll decide,"

"You know how to play, L/N," Jake shook his head, but didn't shy away from it either, brazenly taking it on with his head held high. "Just wait, I'll prove it to you. By the end of the week, we're going to be on a date,"

"I'll be waiting for you to swoon me over, Sim."

Jake bit back a smile, ideas already churning in the back of his mind as the both of you moved onto other topics. He was going to win you over, he was sure of it. The first step of breaking the ice had been done, now it was onto getting you, the girl he had unknowingly fallen for after unfortunate encounters that he believed to be fated.

Despite the many difficult games Jake played in or the countless troubles he faced on and off ice, for the first time in ages, he was actually challenged, and he was going to overcome it to make you his. 

"You scored yourself a man?"

Telling both Wonyoung and Anton about Jake at lunch was equally comical and confusing. Anton was the one who knew the whole timeline while Wonyoung needed a lot of catching up, resulting in many back-and-forths in the conversation. In the end, you finally reached the conclusion with both fully caught up. 

"Well, yes but not officially?" You didn't even know how to put it. 

"Y/N wants a yearning man, that's what," Anton snickered, earning a firm slap on the shoulder from you, though you didn't deny.

"You never told me you were friends with Jake too! Or with the whole hockey team," it was your turn to point fingers at Anton, staring accusingly at him.

"Last time I checked you weren't interested in hockey and jocks," he shrugged, which you couldn't deny wasn't entirely wrong. "Plus, I didn't think it was necessary,"

"They're his party friends," Wonyoung added, earning a guilty eye roll from Anton. 

"Okay, pause, they're more than that. They even came to my tournaments, but that's not the point. Look, honestly, they're the last people I'd set you up with," Anton threw his hands up.

"Are they really that bad?" 

"They're not bad, they're good people, just … the single ones tend to have more fuck boy tendencies as cliche as it sounds," Anton clicked his tongue, leaning back into his seat. "You know, when you're hot, single, and a quite known collegiate athlete, girls are going to be chasing after you,"

"Great, now I have to think about him being perceived by other girls," you muttered, supporting your chin on your palm. 

"But he only has his eyes on you now," Wonyoung interjected immediately, trying to salvage the originally sweet and romantic scenarios of Jake. "He wants a date with you and he's going to go out of his way to prove that he deserves it. It shows enough that he's serious about you,"

"Yeah, don't let my words get to you. That's just a general idea people have on them and their romantic lives, but you have a chance to find out the truth," Anton tried his best in mending the cracks of your perception, realising he probably said too much for your own good. "Worst case scenario the date flops, you can just ghost him,"

Wonyoung narrowed her gaze at him. "Shut up, Anton."

The rest of the day consisted of classes that got you away from your friends' constant bickers and distracted you from the thought of Jake. Not to be that overthinking person that you were, but to know how Jake was perceived probably crushed the small idea you created of him. You shouldn't have even created the idea in the first place, but a crush was a crush no matter what, wasn't it?

"What's got you so deep in thought?" 

The owner of that voice which startled you appeared before you as you walked out of the lecture hall, completely in a daze until the man you couldn't keep out of your mind somehow read your ongoing thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, finding yourself standing face-to-face to a smile that radiated the sun's energy. 

"Hello to you, stranger,"

"Stranger? You wound me," he joined your side almost immediately as you picked up your steps again. 

"Hello, Jake," you corrected lightheartedly, resisting a smile once his laughter reached your ears. Is it normal for someone you barely knew to have such an effect on you?

"Hello, Y/N," he greeted back, going along with whatever that's happening. "You're really pretty today,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, though the tightening grip of your hand on your bag strap betrayed your nonchalance. "You say this to other girls?"

"Only to the ones that punch and kiss me, which is none, other than you obviously," 

"Real charming, Sim," you chuckled, nudging his shoulder with yours, eliciting a playful giggle from him. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm walking you back to the dorms," he said nonchalantly in a matter-of-fact manner. 

"Don't you have classes? Wait—how did you even know I was here?" You turned to stare at him, both puzzled and shocked. 

"I had classes, but that doesn't mean I can't free up my time to come find you, no? And don't worry, I've got an insider," he winked, and by that, you knew it could only be Anton that served as his insider.

"You didn't need to, you know?" 

"I do want to though," Jake slid his one hand into his pocket, glancing at you briefly. "You might think I'm just doing this for the sake of earning a date but I honestly just want to see you,"

You blinked, eyes softening at his words. Looking at him was the only reaction you could get out of yourself, not knowing what to do or say. You failed to even realise your heart had skipped a beat. 

He smiled at your reaction, shaking his head slightly. "Don't take me so lightly, sweets," he said rather lightheartedly, but genuinity lied in every letter. You still needed to wrap your mind around the fact that Jake was actively chasing you. 

"You're doing that thing again,"

You snapped out of your thoughts, curiosity flooded your features. "What 'thing'?"

"The thing where you seem to be caught up with your thoughts," Jake had completely read you like a book, way faster than any of your friends had. How? "You know what, let's stop by that bakery first for some sweet treat to clear your mind. How does that sound?"

A sincere, sweet smile spread onto your face, the slightest of nods as a response as you tried to compute a sentence without malfunctioning. "I'd love that." I love you. Too soon, but God, you just had to put that out there somewhere even if it's in your head.

You let Jake whisk you away to the bakery, then back to the dorms where you held onto him until it was ultimately a few seconds too long to be just a casual hug. The momentary silence after was filled with your quiet smiles, followed by hushed goodbyes that trailed past your door, leaving you in a lump of mush whose heart was beating too quick for your own good. 

Was this how liking someone felt? Well, it was something to be discovered as you failed to come to terms with it just yet.

Somehow, Jake knowing your class schedule and coming to your lecture hall at the end of each day became something you didn't question eventually. The shyness from both sides melted with every encounter, soon the space between you and him seemed to become smaller, and your bag would be on his shoulder instead. It was unimaginable how quick you and him got along in a short period of time as if you had been friends since the start.

"You didn't come to the game yesterday," Jake pointed out rather sulkily, flashing you those signature puppy eyes that you learned in a span of three days was actually just a trick to milk some pity.

"Jake, it's a school night. Why is the team even playing twice this week?" you deadpanned.

"Who says you can't have some fun on school nights?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly at you just to be shot down by your blank stare. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm convinced your appearance is pure luck for our team,"

"Now, what BS are you trying to use to convince me to go?" 

"It's not bullshit! The last game we played that you didn't come to resulted in a near loss. We were lowkey shit. The times you were there, we were somehow the next contending NHL team," 

"I think that's just a coincidence," you poked his arm, shaking your head in pure disbelief. 

"To me it isn't. Come to the next game, and to the pregame party with me on Friday,"

"Pregame party?"

"It's this party we have once in a while—you know what—it's actually almost before every game, but as I was saying, a party,"

"Full of jocks?"

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. "Not only jocks, Anton will be there too,"

"Wow, like that's any better," you said sarcastically, knowing your best friend was the worst party goer to be with. Despite his shy personality and persona, all it took was one cup of alcohol to get him absolutely buzzed and become the opposite of his usual demeanour. That explained why he would usually ditch you though it was unintended. Wonyoung then became your party partner in crime, you suppose Jake was now trying to make a spot for himself now.

"I won't get drunk, I promise, I won't even touch a single drop of alcohol. I'll be by your side the whole time. It'll be a good opportunity to meet the guys too," he raised his eyebrows expectantly at you, the smile on his face persisting. He could tell you were conflicted. "You do the drinking, I'll do the driving, how about that?"

"Modern day romance, cute," you snickered, gradually letting the feeling of FOMO get to you but you also wanted to actually hang out with Jake. "I'll go,"

"Great—"

"No funny business," you pointed an accusatory finger at him, to which he reacted with a mock salute, flashing a satisfied grin. 

"Absolutely no funny business." He reaffirmed, the sparks in his eyes increasing by tenfold. "I'll be by your doorstep at 8 sharp."

Jake was a man who stuck to his words. He was, in fact, on your doorstep at 8 PM that night, ringing the doorbell a minute earlier until you swung the door open to reveal yourself, already ready to leave. 

"Hey," 

"Hi," you greeted back after a second's pause, stepping out to close the door behind you. "You're on time,"

Jake pulled a face, following your pace as you two started making your way to wherever Jake's car was parked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You shrugged, pursing your lips. "My past dates never came on time,"

"Well, they suck and I'm glad it didn't get serious because you deserve better," 

You took a glance at him, smiling at the way he had his eyebrows furrowed, looking as if he was mad on your behalf. "I have you now,"

It took a couple of seconds for it to dawn on Jake's face. Watching his features twist and morph upon realisation had you giggling deviously. "I'm your date? Are you calling this a date? What—"

"Come on, let's walk faster." You looped your arm around his, pulling him along and giving him zero chances to collect himself as he tried to dissect everything happening. He didn't question it further once you two got into his car, only a faint smile remained on his lips all the way there.

You practically clung onto Jake almost like a koala bear upon entering the threshold of the frat house, reminding you of why you barely go to parties in the first place. "How about you do all the socialising too?" 

Jake threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. It was an odd feeling when you noticed people having their eyes set on you and him, the hockey star player with just some girl. "Come on, the guys will love you,"

"I have social anxiety,"

"That's too late to confess now," he gave your shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze. "We can leave anytime you want,"

"Really?"

"Really. It's not about me tonight, it's you. Plus, coach will kill us if he knows we're at another one of these parties, so I'm saving my ass while we're at it," 

"You're an idiot," you snorted, but all he did was mirror your smile without your knowledge.

Out of all the things you've witnessed at this party, you found the most fascinating thing was Jake knowing practically everyone there. Every person he's passed by would greet him or he would be the first to greet them, the popularity of his was evident.

Never in a million years would you be able to predict the fact that you would meet the school's hockey team, let alone Jake himself. You were too used to seeing their tiny figures skating around on ice that when Jake brought you up to his friends, you had to blink a couple of times.

"Hey! Oh—you're the one that gave little Jakey a kiss," Heeseung's attention immediately turned to you after Jake introduced you to his small circle of friends. 

"Dude!" Jake swatted Heeseung's shoulder, the reddening tips of his ears gave himself away. 

"I'm Y/N," you casted a pointed look over at Jake while you introduced yourself to his friends, shaking some of their hands and letting them give you a half hug. Anton was amongst the bunch, occasionally nodded over at Jake to purposely tease you. 

The amount of drinking games the circle of hockey players pulled you in was admirable even for a person with high tolerance like you. There were wins and losses, by the end of the night, you could barely stand on your two feet. Thankfully, your personal chauffeur and date was there for you to lean on. 

"I want to see you around more often," Sunghoon drunkenly pointed over at you. "Jakey, don't hide her, okay? She's lots of fun,"

The rest hummed in agreement and Jake reassured them he'd do so before saying his last goodbyes of the night. His attention was now fully on you as he tried his best to get you into his car, somehow managing to also safely drive back to your place and guide you into your dorm. 

"I'll go in myself," you protested against him as you crossed the threshold, his hands holding onto you firmly. 

"You can barely walk properly, Y/N,"

"I'm just a little drunk," you defended, earning an amused snort from Jake who was entirely unconvinced by you. He eventually set you down onto the couch, wandering into the kitchen area and you didn't bother questioning, not when he came back with a glass of water. 

"Here, drink," he handed you the glass of water that you downed in one go. You expected him to leave right after, but he didn't seem to be going anytime soon from the way he stayed glued to his spot next to you. "You alright?"

"I'll manage," you reassured, knowing how your roommate was going to have to put up with your hungover state the next morning. "You should go and get some sleep, you're playing tomorrow,"

"You're right," he stood up, though seemingly reluctant as he stared at your tipsy state. "Are you going to be okay alone?"

"Yes, I'll be! Now stop nagging," you followed suit to stand up, holding onto his arms for slight support. "I'm back home safely thanks to you and that's all that matters. Now, you, home, sleep, okay?"

Jake threw his head back, biting back a smile that was threatening to make its way to his face. "Okay. Who's the one nagging now?"

You pulled a look, punching his shoulder softly in a lighthearted manner. "Whatever," you murmured, excusing the rate of your heartbeat picking up. "You need to rest to score goals,"

"Goals? Why are you suddenly talking about goals?"

"I want to see you score,"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, an imaginary light bulb flashed bright as an idea did in his head. "And if I score … will I get anything out of it?"

You caught on immediately, rolling your eyes with an incredulous smile. "Maybe an answer to a certain question,"

"Are you raising a bet with me, L/N?"

"Am I? It depends if you're up for it, Sim,"

"I'm always up for a challenge. A goal, a date,"

"You have my word."

Jake was soon out the door, your figure leaning on the doorframe for support as you bid him goodbye. "Good luck for tomorrow," 

"My heart will be at peace knowing you're going to be there. Come find me after the game … which I will score in," 

You stifled a laugh at his response. "I will,"

"Great, I'll see you then," Jake couldn't even hide his excitement from the way his face beamed. He acted nonchalant by shoving his hands into his pockets. "Goodnight," 

You smiled, "Goodnight." It was a daring move, but you took the chance of him being completely caught off guard to swiftly press a kiss on one side of his cheek. You didn't allow him to process this before closing the door, hiding the shade of burning scarlet on your cheeks. 

Were you crazy? Yes. Were you starting to feel something more for Jake? Definitely.

"So … you and him are officially in the talking stage?"

It was the first time Wonyoung accompanied you and Anton to a hockey game. Her lack of interest in the sport didn't fathom neither of you, all you two needed was extra emotional support. So, now you were stuck gossiping instead. 

"Something like that," you shrugged, eyes automatically landing on said talking stage who was warming up on the ice. This time around, Anton managed to score some good seats, though it wasn't front row, it was still considerably close. 

"'Something like that'? Dude, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and you guys wouldn't stop texting, you're literally advancing at this point," Anton crossed his arm, shifting in his seat. 

"You did what? Since when did you get so bold?"

"Since I got drunk. I swear I wasn't in my right mind,"

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, or in your case, drunk actions, that was probably what you've always wanted to do," Anton chipped in, earning a nudge from you.

"And you still haven't given an answer to that date yet? It's been almost a week and it's the weekend already," It was Wonyoung's turn to cross her arm and stare accusingly at you. Guilty. If only they knew the secret bet you had with Jake too.

"Don't worry, I've made up my mind," you, in fact, officially did make up your mind the night you went to bed screaming into your pillows at your action. It was a blessing he hadn't intruded on your dreams or else you'd be doomed.

"Well, what is it?" Wonyoung egged on, but all you did was smile deviously at her.

"I'll tell you after I give him my answer, but I think you'd already know it."

There was no mistake that Jake had spotted you in the crowd multiple times. The first time he glanced over, you thought it was a mere coincidence, but when there was a second, third and fourth time, you knew it wasn't. You didn't miss that lingering smile on his lips each time he spared a glance in your direction. If he kept going on, you felt your heart was about to burst. 

The first period started with a bang. It was barely a few seconds in when the home team already got possession of the puck, Jake playing a big role in it. As if on cue, Jake was the one leading the possession, swerving past the opposition's defence line. Before you knew it, the puck was at the back of the net, a goal by Jake was scored under a minute. 

Naturally, you and your friends jumped out of your seats in celebration. You, however, were hiding a bark of laughter once you remembered the bet you made with Jake. He really had something to prove to you, didn't he? To rub it into your face much more, Jake just had to skate past your section and purposely blow a kiss at your direction. 

It wouldn't be Jake if he didn't have more tricks hidden under his sleeves, which explained why in another minute, a second goal from him was scored. At that point, you were both shocked and amused, realising how you should probably not second question his determination and dedication to securing a date with you. Two goals in two minutes, there was no denying his utmost desperation was apparent. 

The first and second period soon ended with the home team leading. It was a pretty laid back game all thanks to Jake's contributions, so once the third period came around, everyone wasn't on the edge of their seats as much as before. It didn't excuse the surprises that continued to ensue time after time, the next one included Jake. 

The clock was ticking and the atmosphere was gradually getting intense. The sounds of hockey sticks clashing into one another to win over the puck was loud, the home team succeeded in taking possession. That possession was soon passed onto Jake who quickly speeded past the oppositions. In a blink of an eye and a swift movement of his hockey stick, the puck was in the back of the opposition's net. 

The crowd in the stands erupted into shouts of joy, pieces of popcorn flew into the air, drinks were flying everywhere, but nobody cared. You and your two best friends jumped out of your seats at once, shouting and hollering madly. The team on the ice was equally high on energy too, every player was jumping on Jake, but there was no mistaking his eyes being trained on you even if you were a distance away. 

You expected him to turn away right after, but he never averted his attention on you. In a place full of people, you felt as though the lights were focused on you and him only. The camera zoomed in on him which was displayed on the jumbotron screen showing his smiling face, only then he turned his gaze onto the camera, blowing a kiss. This action managed to get many screams, but what came next was unexpected. He held up a gesture with his hand and it was clearly the first letter of your name. 

Jake turned to look back at your direction, showing the letter of your name gestured by his hand proudly. Just from seeing his beaming expression, you found yourself smiling too, unable to resist his charms till the point where your friends were staring at you dumbfounded at the side. Frankly, no man has ever made you smile this way, ever. 

"Did he—" Anton glanced at Wonyoung who looked back at him with a rather nonchalant expression compared to his confused one.

"Dedicate a goal to her? Yeah," it was something everyone could see, even if they didn't know you personally, they'd know Jake was dedicating it to a specific someone. "I wish a talking stage of mine would do this too,"

Anton shook his head. "Dream on, Wony."

Once the game was over, you sent him a text to meet you at the same location you bumped into him, aka somewhere along the food stalls. You took your time hanging around with your friends until you got a response back saying he's on the move, until then your friends decided to leave first and you were left with multiple 'good luck's from them. 

Thankfully, by the time you got there it was mostly empty and there wasn't any crowd, because the last thing you needed was someone overhearing. It didn't take long for Jake to arrive after you did. His hair was still wet from the shower, a backpack slung over his shoulder. 

"Hey," he said casually, stopping right before you. "I didn't keep you waiting, right?"

"Nope, you didn't," you shook your head, pursing your lips. "Great game, by the way,"

"Thanks," Jake's hand travelled to the back of his neck, a small tinge of red making its way to his cheeks. He was shy, especially since you were inadvertently hinting at the celebration that came after the goal. 

You smiled, but the nervous habit of fidgeting your ring betrayed your rather nonchalant expression. It wasn’t supposed to be something so scary, yet it’s a much needed step in your talking stage with him. “Yes,” That wasn’t exactly how you wanted to execute it, here you were making a fool out of yourself instead. 

Jake tilted his head to the side in confusion, almost looking like those golden retriever puppies you’d seen online. “What?” If it wasn’t for your shamelessness and determination in that moment, you’d have already ran away from the embarrassment. 

“Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you. That’s my answer and also a part of our bet,”

Jake’s lips parted, the initial confusion morphed into surprise which he soon fully digested and that realisation resulted in the biggest smile that crept its way onto his face. You couldn’t help but find his reaction endearing, laughing softly. "Nice goals,"

"Thanks. Does that mean I get three dates now?" 

It was easy to laugh around Jake, there was something freeing and warm about his presence. There was a feeling you experienced only with him, you didn't know what it was, but you wished to be able to have it all the time. "Take me out on one date first then we'll decide,"

Jake laughed quietly, looking away to avoid your eyes, because to him, one more glance at you was about to make his heart burst in nervousness.  It took a few seconds for Jake to gather his composure back. He was the complete opposite compared to the person he was making that bet with you, shy and cheeky, unlike the confident and suave person he was from that night, the stark difference was what warmed your heart. 

The obvious giddiness of his was eventually masked by an attempt in casualness. "I–tomorrow, seven, I'll pick you up,"

"Sounds good,"

"Great. Amazing," Jake mindlessly said, unable to take his starry eyes away from you. It looked as if Jake was completely enamoured by you from the way he stared at you with fascination. Whatever was going on between you and him then, it was some kind of love that was undeniably innocent. 

Almost in a single blink, Jake snapped out of it, somehow being self aware as a shade of pink painted his cheeks at the realisation of his own thoughts. "It's getting late, how about I take you back to your dorms?"

"That'd be great, thank you." you suddenly felt shy under his gaze, the thoughts in your mind were yelling at your heart to stop beating so quickly. 

Under the bleak night sky, you and Jake made your way back to your dorms with the stars as an additional companion. For the first time in forever, you found yourself wishing the night would never end and the road stretched further just so you could listen to his laughter for another minute. Falling in love was scary, but realising it was another story.

"It's been three hours and you still haven't made up your mind yet?"

Calling Wonyoung over and having her help you in getting ready was actually just her seeing you entering your demise as you overthink every little single detail. The outfit you chose had been changed over and over again till the point where Wonyoung was exhausted just by watching you do so. 

"I haven't been on a date in ages, cut me some slack," you groaned, sitting down on the edge of your bed in defeat. "Plus, I think what's different about this date compared to the others is that I actually like him,"

"You—what?" Wonyoung practically scooted over in a hurry to join your side, purposely looking at you in shock.

"What?"

"You admitted it. You never do, amd it's only been a week," 

"Didn't need you to call out my emotional avoidant issues but yeah, I do like him. Well, not like 'like' him, confession kinda level yet. It's getting there but I think there's probably a chance," you sighed in defeat, basically raising your hands up in surrender, liking someone could be ever so thrilling but also an emotion filled rollercoaster. "He's sweet, genuine, funny, cute, everything a girl could ever dream of, it's no surprise how he's so easy to love. But I just hope I'm not another one of the girls in his roster,"

"Hey!" Wonyoung nudged you hard in the ribs, you sat up straight, head snapping to see her disapproving frown. "You're not, okay? I doubt he even has one from what I heard,"

"What?"

"I did some digging and from what my sources claimed, he hasn't been seeing anyone since his last break up, which was over a year ago. Not like the ones on his team, okay? They're fucking everywhere and he's been practising celibacy, alright?" Wonyoung's reassurance might've been slightly lighthearted, but it still held a certain weight to it. "Don't think too much. Are Anton's words getting to your head?" 

"Well, no, but you already know my traumatic experiences with guys like him," by that you meant your exes and past dates, who were coincidentally friends of Anton's and the reason how you got to know them in the first place, also explaining why you doubt your best friends' judgement at times. Dating in the 21st century was tough. "I'm just saying. It feels too good to be true,"

"Or maybe it's because he likes you for who you are. You're you. Don't care about him being some hot shot hockey player, in the end, he's the one who wants a date with you."

You replayed Wonyoung's words as you waited for Jake to turn up at your doorstep, the clock ticking close to seven. As much as you had a great time getting to know him  throughout the week, you couldn't help but have doubtful thoughts. He was Jake, the star player of the hockey team, there were probably many girls on campus dying to be in your spot right now. 

Maybe Wonyoung was right, Anton's words were getting to you. You shook the badgering thoughts from your mind once you heard the doorbell ringing, all of the doubts disappeared the moment you opened your door to see a nicely dressed Jake Sim, who had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

Jake stared at you, his eyes sweeping over your body, lips parting in what you think was awe. The black dress Wonyoung picked really was the best choice it seemed. "Wow," he breathed out, pressing one hand on his chest. "You look like a dream,"

If what people described as having butterflies fluttering in your abdomen was exactly how you felt when he said that, they were probably right. You could feel the heat rushing up to your cheeks, painting them a light shade of pink. It was cliche, something typical a man would say, but somehow when it came to him, it had an effect on you.

"Thank you. You look handsome too," you smiled at him, momentarily getting distracted by the first few buttons of his button down shirt that was undone. It was most likely on purpose, wasn't it?

"Thank you," he bit back his smile from becoming wider, then raised his arm which held onto the flowers. "I got you flowers,"

You raised an eyebrow at him, both pleased and surprised. It might've been a simple act, but it was certainly a way to your heart. "You really know how to charm me, don't you?" You accepted them and quickly ran to place them on the counter, mentally noting to store them away later. 

"I have my secret ways to get to your heart," he slipped his hands into his pockets, watching you make your way out and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. "And today, there's going to be another one that will lead me there,"

"I'm intrigued."

The car ride was quite longer than you had expected. It was a good thing that the whole journey wasn't filled with complete silence. Here and there, either Jake or you would tell the other about something going on in your lives, sometimes even the most random things too. The occasional silence wasn't awkward at all. With him, you realised the silences were always comfortable, as if his presence was what made everything reassuring. 

The car eventually came to a stop at a building. You prayed it wasn't some shady building you were about to get abducted in, but knowing Jake, it should be the complete opposite of so. He held the door open for you at all times, even the car door, such small gestures made you smile secretly and your heart skipping. It was quite a torture, however, for his hand to brush against yours but never once intertwining. Maybe it was because he didn't wish to go against your boundaries and you were also too shy to suggest it, so either of you were left being stuck in agony hoping the distance between would disappear.

The elevator reached the top in no time. You were rather relieved, the tension in the whole journey up was palpable. It was obvious the both of you were aware of it, the only problem was no one dared to act on it. From Jake's frequent glances and his intense gaze, you knew his hand was itching to reach out for yours.

You were surprised at what Jake had planned once you stepped out of the elevator and into a restaurant with open air. It was a rooftop dining restaurant. Jake didn't bother to hide his knowing smile even as the server led you both to a reserved table. 

"Dinner and sunsets," Jake smiled cheekily at you, seemingly looking proud of himself and the idea behind this location. 

You narrowed your eyes at him lightheartedly. How could he have known that this was an ideal date of yours? "How did you know?" 

Jake paused, then he shrugged, feigning casualness that you knew was the opposite of his true feelings currently. "I have my sources," Anton. Again.  

You snorted at the common phrase you've grown to understand, shaking your head at the thought of Jake constantly pestering your best friend for information. Yet, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. Knowing Jake would frequently ask your friends about you and your likings showed his efforts. Plus points. 

"I've never had someone put this much thought into a date with me before," 

Jake's gaze softened following your words, the littlest of the edges of his lips curled upwards. He let out a small endearing laugh and looked down a second to hide it. "I just hope you'll get to enjoy this date to the max. It's all about you after all,"

"Of course I will! The restaurant's amazing, the view over the city is too perfect. The fact that we'll get to watch the sunset in a while too? Ten out of ten,"

"I'm glad. You have no idea how much panic and anxiety I had planning this out,"

It was your turn to smile, the image of Jake being all panicked asking Anton to try and plan a perfect date was absolutely fitting to what you expected. "I wouldn't mind even if you took me to a seven eleven to eat cup noodles together if it meant we got to spend time together,"

You didn't know what it was exactly hidden behind Jake's expressions. He was resisting the urge to smile wider, the look of appreciation and adoration flashed across his eyes expressed otherwise. "I guess that's going to be our next date. I still have another two, don't I?"

"I don't remember that being in our deal exactly," you tilted your head and felt your heart beating with an increased tempo, accepting the effect he has on you by now. "But I don't mind seeing you more actually. Maybe I can promise you more than two dates,"

A look of relief was evident on Jake's face, he smirked in disbelief at you almost causing his heart to stop thinking you didn't want more than this one date. He was wrong, so wrong to doubt you. "Scared me for a second, thought you wanted this to be your one and very last date with me,"

"How could I? The restaurant's not the only reason I'll enjoy this date, you know? It's because of you," you averted your eyes away for a moment, suddenly scared to meet his gaze and the intensity of it. "You're the main reason, Jake," 

Once your confession had escaped your lips after holding it in for a suffocating amount of time, you realised you were not only professing something that was blossoming, but also gradually opening up to him, being completely honest and vulnerable while speaking your mind. It was odd. You've only known him for a week, but it was the most you've ever felt for a man you were romantically involved with. Maybe the part where he kissed you before you even knew one another played a role in the speed of your feelings' development, but you rather not come to terms with that. 

There was another side of you which bugged you negatively. You had a feeling falling so fast for somewhere could eventually lead to a dismay. Some of your friends were evidence you could attest to, the amount of tears shed onto your sleeve was enough of a memory for you to recall. It was also a lesson on not moving too fast that you learnt.  Were you going to get your heart broken? 

But, the heart does want what it wants. You were a victim of listening to your heart over your head, and so were your friends who would tell you the same continuously. Seeing the man opposite you being completely stunned at what you said made the thoughts in your head panic. Oh God, did he not feel the same? Were you the one moving too fast and misreading the room instead? You turned away to look at the view of the city as a way to avoid his gaze, your heart feeling as if it was about to explode at any minute.

The view before you was exactly what you were feeling at that moment. The golden orange mixed with a pale pink painted your emotions of a complicated longing and attraction towards Jake, the softness of the colours were exactly how you felt for him, adoration and affection. "Pretty," you said mindlessly as you watched the sunset. 

Jake followed your sight to take in the beauty of the sunset over the city, smiling to himself before turning back to look at you, taking the chance while you were paying him no mind. If only you could see the amount of pure fondness in his eyes which travelled to the corners of your face under the reflection of the orangey pink sunset. "Pretty,"

In that exact moment, it was a scene out of a movie and you weren't even aware of it. The hidden intimacy of it all was something you couldn't find reciprocating with someone else. That was mainly because Jake wasn't just someone to you.

You pushed the whole load of thoughts going around in your mind to play a little game of twenty questions with Jake. It was probably not the best idea, but it was also a convenient way to get to know someone. You soon learned that Jake had a dog back in Australia and he played football before getting into hockey, which explained why he held onto the jersey number five for a long time. His favourite colour was black, spring was his favourite season and that grape was his favourite flavour. There were many occurrences in which you and Jake yelled 'me too' in between the things you two revealed about yourselves. There was one out of many you two shared a belief in: love at first sight.

You were surprised at how compatible you and him were. There were slight differences but also a lot of similarities between you both. Maybe it was fate for you to find someone that fits you like a puzzle. Throughout the dinner, everything was going smoothly with nothing but laughter and interesting conversations to go with your food. That was until a foreign voice came towards your table.

"Jakey!" The familiar voice you've encountered once during the party came from behind you. You could tell by the smile faltering from Jake's face that he was not happy with the appearance of this person. Actually, it wasn't just one, there were multiple. 

"Jaeyun!" There came another and soon the three stars of the hockey team appeared by your table. At first, their attention was all on Jake, their precious best friend and teammate. But judging from Jake's death glare, they only got the gist once they noticed your presence there, taking them a second to process everything. 

"Hey guys," you greeted with a pinch of uncertainty, but you wanted to be nice and it would be rude not to greet them. 

"Y/N," they acknowledged you in unison, their glances going back and forth between you and Jake. "Looking good," Heeseung added, followed by a hum of agreement from the other two. This only earned a sharp jap on the side from Jake. 

"Thank you," you covered your smile with your hand, the urge to burst into full blown laughter was getting strong. 

Looking at the knowing smirks appearing on every one of their faces, you knew all of them were sharing the same amount of brain cells which had identical thoughts. "Are you guys on a … date?" Sunghoon, the rather cheeky one, was the first to ask. 

"Yes, we are, and you guys are crashing it," Jake narrowed his venomous eyes at his best friends, his gaze were enough to convey a message: he was going to strangle them to death after the date. "Why are you guys even here?"

"Well, Heeseung kinda overheard you asking Anton about a good restaurant or something like that, then he told Jay and Jay told me, so we thought it'd be nice to check it out on the same day you're going," Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck, realising how awkward this whole situation was. 

At that point, Jake was rubbing his temples as if his head was about to burst at any second. The three hockey players turned to look at you for help, to you, they were almost like three helpless puppies who were about to be scolded. "We're sorry," Jay immediately gripped the other two by their shoulders, "and we're going to get out of your hair now. Enjoy your date, bye!" He rushed his words out then instantly dragged Sunghoon and Heeseung away, their hushed whispers audible until they eventually disappeared as a whole.

You turned over your shoulder to see their retreating figures until they were completely out of sight. You had to stifle your laugh as you turned back, seeing Jake shake his head before he met your eyes, cracking a small and rather embarrassed smile. "Sorry about that. I didn't know they were going to appear,"

"You don't need to be sorry. I think it's funny they made a sudden appearance and it definitely took me by surprise—in a good way. Plus, it's cute they came here wanting to join you thinking you were alone,"

The initial annoyance and embarrassment melted from Jake's expressions, he smiled with full genuinity, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, it was,"

You leaned your front against the table, placing your head onto your palm for support. "So, you asked Anton about me, your 'source'," you began carefully, "how long has it been going on?" 

Jake flushed a light shade of pink that matched the hues of the sunset from earlier. He let out a cough then masked it with a lopsided smile in embarrassment that you had caught him straight on. "Ever since I found out you were friends,"

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning at his truthful confession. "I figured,"

"You did?" He tilted his head in curiosity and surprise. You supposed it was normal for some men to be oblivious. 

"It's not hard to catch on, Jake. I only have two close friends," you poked light fun, though in reality it was pretty much the truth and you were not going to talk about that. 

"Two close friends? What about me?"

You shrugged, surpressing the laughter that was on the edge of escaping your lips. "Well, yes, but you're more than just a friend to me,"

Jake's eyes lit up, a twinkling sparkle decorated his pupils. However, his playful grin said otherwise. "Best friend?"

"Get out."

Other than the cameo of Jake's friends, the rest of the date has been relaxing and calm, going smoothly as you continued on with more jokes and throwing fun facts about yourselves. The person you saw on ice was a contrary compared to the one sittinf opposite you. Although he was much rougher and aggressive on ice, even till the point where it landed him several suspensions, you knew he wasn't like that. He showed you his true, softer side with nothing but honesty and trust. There was only mutual respect and truth between you two, that was how easy it was to be with him. 

By the time you got back to your dorm room, it was already past midnight. Time was no longer a concept when it came to being with Jake. Neither you nor him realised how late it was until the servers told you they were closing soon, being completely immersed in each others' presence and conversation to even pay attention to your surroundings. Jake had walked you to the door of your dorm room, the exact spot where he probably stood knocking your door earlier.

"Thanks for tonight. I don't think I'd ever forget about … everything. The sunset, your friends—" you smiled at that moment when Jake snorted when his friends were mentioned, "and you,"

The grin he had on his face faltered a little, his eyebrows raising and head tilting slightly. "Me?"

You couldn't tell him the truth. The sight of him with the sunset was when you realised your heart was feeling for him more than you could control. It was as if your heart was speaking for you. The hues of the evening sunset painted his face with a slow glow when he was watching it unfold before you, it was then you looked over at him and felt your heart stop. He was beautiful, his smile was something you wished was embedded in your mind even when you closed your eyes. 

Instead, you hid the truth. "You put so much effort into planning this whole date till the point where you asked Anton about me. I'm grateful that you cared this much, it's something I'll never forget,"

The smile on his delicate features only grew wider, the light tinge of pink was making its way to his cheeks. "I'll never forget about this too, our first date. I never knew I could feel this way,"

"What way?"

"In a way where I feel too much, and I feel like my heart is about to burst at any moment just watching you," Jake bit his tongue, stopping himself from letting all his inner thoughts pour out and overwhelm you, the last thing he needed was you running into your dorm and never see him again. Little did he know you would do the opposite of that. 

"I feel the same too," it was your turn to confess your truth. From the looks of Jake's reaction, that was probably the last thing he expected as a response which reciprocated his thoughts. You couldn't help chuckling softly at his expressions, he was definitely someone who had a rich set of reactions for each situation. 

"Do you want to know what I think we should do next time?" There was an edge of humour in his tone, you didn't know what he was going to say next. You narrowed your gaze at him, particularly at the way he said it. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yeah, why? Is it something dirty?" You scrunch your face up, shooting daggers at him. 

"It's disgusting," he punctuated, pausing for a few seconds after. "I think we should go on another date sometime, go bowling or whatever, get some ice cream,"

The glint in his seemingly mischievous looking stare met the roll of your eyes. He snickered at your reaction and you almost punched his shoulder out of spite. "You idiot," there was no chance of you hiding the growing smile, "I'd love to. It's a no brainer,"

Jake smiled in relief, breathing out a sigh. "I'll hold you to it," he snapped his fingers. There was a short pause, realising something shifted in the air ever since the moment you and him both confessed each of your inner thoughts. 

You took the chance to divert the conversation away in an attempt to make everything less awkward. "You should head back already, it's late. Thanks for driving me back. I'll text you, okay?"

"Right," Jake said rather mindlessly, the gears in his head seemingly turning and still stuck on the conversation a few steps back. 

"Goodnight, Jake," your hand was on the doorknob, giving it a twist to open your door, but you didn't walk in just yet. 

"No goodnight kiss?" Jake said teasingly before you could even take a step past the threshold. The slight raise in his eyebrows and the smirk on his face was what made you recalled Anton's words of them having fuckbiy tendencies. Well, there was that side of him. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Nice try, I'm not intoxicated this time, Jake. Maybe I'll give you one on our next date—just maybe," you sent him a blowing kiss, which he caught as you closed your door shut, the sound of his sweet laughter was audible enough for you to feel a smile mindlessly making its way to your lips.

You hoped this would never end. The feeling of overwhelming joy, the giddiness as if you were a teenage girl all over again, the pure emotions of liking someone. All of this, you wished it would have a fortunate outcome.

Days turned into weeks where weeks turned into months. The time you've known Jake was no longer just a week, but months now. During those months you've spent together, there were countless of dates he brought you out on. Amusement park, cinema, ice skating rink, roller skate rink, the list of location went on and on. At that point, there was nothing but transparency between you two given the amount of time spent with each other. He wasn't just becoming your best friend, but also someone your heart was yearning for. By then, all your negative overthinking thoughts from the first date had completely vanished. Wonyoung was right, you thought too much.

Over the months, he has been proving to you that he was just a loser in disguise, you were saying this with full affection, of course. The initial fuckboy reputation that everyone claimed him to be just because he was part of the hockey team proved the complete opposite. He was probably a victim of rumours, stereotypes and generalisation. 

"Aim better!" 

It was one of those weekends reserved for date nights between you and Jake. It was a little something special that you and him shared. This had become a tradition before you even realised. The bowling alley nearby became the talk of the conversation about your next date not long before and here you were now, beating him while he continued to sigh in defeat.

"I am! You can't just say that while you're here winning. How are you so good at this?" He was gripping onto the bowling ball tightly, his eyes trained on the pins ahead of him. "I didn't know there was this side of you. You should consider a career in bowling," his aim definitely didn't land right when all he managed to do was knock two pins down. "I give up,"

"Don't be a sore loser here," one throw of the bowling ball from you showed Jake your true talents when every one of the pins came knocking down. 

He turned to face you while still standing in his own lane, hands on his hips with a look of disbelief and admiration. "You know what, that's probably one of the hottest things I've seen,"

You screwed your face up, letting out a snort. "Your switch up is crazy,"

Jake threw his hands up in mock defence, shrugging. "Hey, I might've not win in bowling but I did win here with you by my side,"

Him and his words. He sure knew how to work them to his advantage and make you flustered. You turned away from him to hide your grin, the bowling ball in your hold suddenly feeling ten times heavier. "You're such a tease, Sim,"

He picked up a bowling ball too, contrary to his claims of giving up earlier. At your response, he laughed lightheartedly, giving it a few seconds before speaking again, as if to let everything soak in. "Just speaking the truth, sweets."

The next and last location to end the night of competitive bowling was the ice cream shop down the street. In classic Jake style, he got the flavour with the most complicated and weirdest name out there just for it to be chocolate, whereas you got a simple strawberry flavour. Strawberry and chocolate, a match made in heaven which represented you and him coincidentally. How cliche. 

Amidst the silent exchange of reactions to each of your ice creams, Jake placed down his cup after taking one small scoop. "I have something to propose,"

You paused, glanced at him with suspicion before halting your actions completely. "What is it?"

"Be my plus one for Sunghoon's birthday party,"

You displayed some apprehension. "Is it some crazy frat party like the one you brought me to last time?"

Jake let out an amused sounding snort, then shook his head. "The opposite—"

"Thank God," you breathed out a sigh of relief.

Jake, however, looked rather offended. Maybe because the party was his hockey team's pre-game party. "Hey! The party I brought you to wasn't that bad," 

"It's the most beer and shots I've consumed in a night. I would say I'm lucky for having a solid tolerance but I'd also rather not think about the morning after,"

Jake smiled at that. You didn't know if it was simply because you brought up a past memory or that memory reminded him of your certain actions that night. Either way, you didn't miss his sly smile. "Okay, okay. There's no frat parties at all for Sunghoon's birthday, don't worry. We're going to throw a dinner party at our place and that's all. Pretty simple,"

Your face lit up at the idea of a birthday party, contrasting the look you had minutes ago thinking it was going to be another party with sweaty frat boys. "Wait, that's actually so cute. Count me in,"

"Really?"

"Really. When is it?"

"Next Saturday,"

"You know exactly when to pick me up."

It wasn't even Saturday yet when Jake turned up on your doorstep unannounced in the middle of the week. He had an unapologetic smile, a bouquet of fresh flowers in one hand and a box of donuts in the other. The confusion on your face to the unamused stance you had while staring at him was enough of a response on your part. Look, you liked Jake, but whoever ruins your sleep at nine in the morning was not an exception when it came to you cursing them out. 

"Is this a courtship or a bribe?" You leaned your side against the doorframe, doing anything but inviting him at that moment. 

"Both?" He shrugged, the awkward twist of his smile told you he had an explanation ready,

"Come in," you moved your body away to let the starry eyed Jake in, a certain plan he had concocted was soon to be revealed. "Had breakfast yet?" 

"I did. But I know you haven't had breakfast, so I got you donuts," he nodded at the box in his hand, then raised his other hand that held onto the bouquet. "And flowers. I know the last one I got you is wilting," he pointed over at the vase sitting on the counter, the previous bouquet he got you on your date was indeed slowly wilting. How did he know? You didn't ask that. 

You watched Jake's movements as he set the box and bouquet down onto the table, standing in a stance which reminded you of your mother when you were in trouble. "What brings you here at nine in the morning on a Thursday, Jake? I thought you had practice and I thought I would have extra sleep," 

Jake flashed you a sheepish smile, rubbing his forearm out of habit. "That got cancelled, so I wanted to take the chance to run an errand I've been holding off. This errand, however, requires your help," 

You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "My help? What could it possibly be?"

The question you asked was answered when Jake drove you to a mall nearby. Turns out, he didn't know what he should get for Sunghoon's birthday, which was just in a few days. Not to mention, they were anything but prepared for the party. So, a trip to the mall with your guidance was a way to lessen Jake's bundle of worries. 

"You said Sunghoon needed what?"

"A new bottle of aftershave," Jake trailed off with a hint of uncertainty, but also some embarrassment. 

"Right," you nodded slowly, scrunching your nose up at the choice of gift Jake wanted to pick out, but alas, he knew Sunghoon better than you did so who were you to judge? "What else?"

"I already ordered him a Mitch Marner jersey, so I think that's all? Oh—I need to get him this thing,"

You were puzzled, but at that point, you didn't wish to question his interesting choices of a gift. "Which is?"

"A penguin plushie."

It seemed this gift was something Jake had in mind for ages as he found his way with no fault to a toy store and knowing exactly which aisle to go to in search for the penguin plushie. With a bottle of aftershave, a penguin plushie and a soon to be delivered hockey jersey, that was Sunghoon's gift from Jake. Next on the list was party decorations. 

"Do you know what party decorations we're supposed to get?" Jake said with uncertainty as you walked past aisles of colourful decorations, only getting overstimulated by the bright colours and overwhelming amount of choices to choose from. 

"I've done many things but a birthday party? This is a first," you sighed, grabbing some tinsels that got approval by Jake with a nod of his head. 

"I blame them for putting me in charge of decoration. I want to get the cake instead," Jake sulked rather pitifully next to you, and instead, you snicker silently, which was received by a huff from him.

The trip to the mall ended with a bag of gifts and another bag full of decorations. Maybe you and him went a little overboard on the decorations, but Jake justified that it's reusable—well, except for the letter balloons which spelled Sunghoon's name.

Jake and you stopped by the small apartment he shared with his friends before dropping you off back home. It was probably your fourth time entering the apartment he lived in and it was also the fourth version of the house you last remembered. There was a new painting, several pieces of furniture shifted, and a whole lot of laundry stacked on the couch. 

Not that you were intimidated by the ever changing interior till the point where you didn't drop by his place compared to the times he came over to yours, it's just the last time you were here, the memory wasn't quite a favourable one. Let's just say, it was another recreation of your first date where the three of his friends joined your supposed movie date, but there was something they lacked that time around: self awareness. That only resulted in you and Jake cuddling rather stiffly listening to three of them rambling about the movie's theories.

"Thanks for coming along with me today," Jake held onto a chair once everything was set aside, the two of you standing close to the door and being the sole presence there at that hour.

"It's no problem. I'm glad I could be of help even though I'm pretty sure you already had everything in plan, didn't you?" 

"I'll look stupid if I admit that this was a plan to just get some time with you, won't I?" Jake slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing at the floor for a second with a small smile. "I genuinely needed your input, though. I'm sure the party will go well with your opinions,"

"It better go well, or else me getting woken up early and also getting bribed will all be in vain," you said in a lighthearted manner, eliciting a quiet laugh from Jake, and because of that, you were unable to resist a smile creeping onto your lips. "Trust me, I look more stupid for willingly sacrificing my sleep so that I can let you pull me into whatever scheme you have,"

There was a mutual spark that lighted in between. The weight of both yours and Jake's words carried something more than you had anticipated. It was evident that there was a change of atmosphere in that room, in that split second. Realisation clicked at the end of your sentence, both by you and Jake.

The momentary silence was broken by Jake. "I can't seem to find my words, but I know what my heart wants,"

You inhaled a small, sharp breath, eyes flickering. "What is it?"

"To kiss you,"

You shouldn't feel nervous, right? That was what you thought then but whatever you were feeling was betraying your thoughts. Was he going to kiss you? No, he was holding back, and that was obviously torturous not only to him but you. You wanted him to kiss you. "Then do it. Kiss me,"

You've never been braver until this moment. Never in a lifetime would you have expected those words to leave your lips. Congratulations to Jake for being the first man to get you to do so, but God, you were going insane and you were lucky your knees hadn't given out. 

Jake took a step closer to you, his hands were by his side now. The steps were daring, testing the waters. You gave a green light by staying unmoving, the quiver of your lips were a sign of anticipation and anxiety. It was happening. Your official first kiss with him. An actual kiss after months. 

At that point, he was standing so close to you, you could almost feel his breath on your face. The cologne he wore daily filled your senses, his warmth you got used to was giving you a quiet assurance like a hug. He could just kiss you now if he wanted to, but why couldn't he? Maybe he was taking his time. He was staring all over your face, as if memorising every little detail of it.

The moment his palm made its way to your cheek was when you knew you were far too deep to escape. You ignored the quickening pace of your heart and the wobble in your knees, then closed your eyes and waited with hope. 

It never came. The feeling of his lips never touched yours. Instead, the sound of the front door bursting open and the shouts of several familiar voices came crashing into your reality. 

"We're home!" The voice belonged to Heeseung, seemingly still unaware of everything. "We saw shoes out front—oh," realisation.

It was then you snapped your eyes wide open, pushing yourself away from Jake before you could form any coherent thought. Jake's expressions matched the one you had on your face: panic and shock. You stayed staring at each other for a few solid seconds until you figured you were, in fact, not dreaming of the voices and that his friends were actually standing there. 

"I—were we—did we—interrupt—" Jay stuttered out, the horrors on both his and Heeseung's faces would've been comical if only you weren't stuck in this situation yourself.  

"No!" The word escaped both yours and Jake's lips at the same time, in the same tone and manner. You turned to look at him and he did the same, then you faced his friends again. 

Jake heaved a sharp breath, pupils shaking visibly. "Well, I was just about to grab my keys to drop Y/N home," he snatched his car keys from the table without thinking twice, the awkward tension in the room was suffocating. 

"Yeah, we were about to leave …" you trailed off at the lie you made up. Nope, you weren't about to leave, you were about to kiss Jake. Oh, Anton and Wonyoung were going to love this story.

"Should we…?" Jake glanced at you, the red lights practically blaring in those pairs of brown eyes. You got his cry for help and nodded, because you, too, were calling out for help internally.  

"We should, yeah, we definitely should. I'll see you guys at the party." you waved a quick and stiff goodbye then grabbed your stuff, following Jake out the door. Only when you were outside wearing your shoes, you got the chance to breathe out a breath of relief. You didn't know what was about to happen in that house or after Jake returned, but all you could guess was them being as panicked as you were.

On the drive home, it was rather quiet. Whether it was the lasting awkwardness from earlier or the avoidance of the topic, you didn't know. You could feel his occasional glances at you, yet he didn't dare to act on it and somehow, you felt disappointed after every one of them. 

You thought by the end of the drive, you'd be silently leaving his car with no words exchanged. However, Jake wasn't one to leave it at that, nor was he someone to let you go that easily. He grabbed onto your hand before you could reach for the handle, halting you in the midst of your actions. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," he let go of your hand from his hold as you sat back into the cushioned seat of his car, the flickering of his eyes gave his nervousness away. "I can't believe it happened again,"

You cracked a small, humorous smile at the mention of you and him getting interrupted for a second time by his friends. At that point, you believed it was just fate that intervened. "It's okay, Jake, really. The timing wasn't perfect, I suppose, and I get it,"

"Maybe," he hummed, unable to take his eyes away from you, which only made you want to sink into the seat further. He couldn't just do that after almost kissing you! It's not fair. "I'm frustrated,"

"At your friends?"

"At my friends, and at the fact that I couldn't kiss you," 

He was bold. It was something you never got used to, having no prediction of what he would say next. This was one of them. 

"Yet," you added quite daringly, looking away to hide the shyness you were suddenly feeling.

"What?"

"You couldn't kiss me yet," you repeated, this time a little more confident than a minute ago. "There's always a next time, isn't there?"

Jake let out a small chuckle, throwing his head back slightly, the reddening tips of his ears betraying his current calm demeanour. The simplicity of your optimistic words made his heart jump at the unrelenting chances of another try. Second time could go right, can it? "Yeah, and I'll make sure there's no interruption during then, just the two of us."

You were thankful you declined Jake's offer of walking you up to your dorm room. Having him beside you in his car when he uttered those words so nonchalantly almost made you lose your mind. Even after you entered your room, you still felt the lingering feeling of his lips just like a ghost. Closing your eyes, you could almost feel his warmth around you swallowing you whole, the touch of his hand on your cheek burning. 

Lying in bed, you thought of him the whole night as if he had infected your mind. It was then you realised what you felt months ago was different compared to now. Your feelings for Jake was no longer some simple crush, attraction or liking, it was something deeper. You liked him, but it was a kind of feeling where you felt yourself giving your heart to him with no doubts, the stars in your eyes only shining brightly for him. He was your universe.  

God, how did you end up here? You had fallen deeply and helplessly.

On the evening of Sunghoon's birthday, you, Jake, and the rest of his friends along with some of their partners spent the last bit of time finalising all of the decorations before the birthday boy's arrival. 

The near kissing incident with Jake was eventually swept under the rug.  Maybe it did for you and him, but you could tell from Heeseung and Jay's faces that they were still suffering from the embarrassment when seeing you. You had a feeling Jake told them off after getting back that day. 

Other than that, you were more relieved nothing was awkward or stiff between the two of you. Everything was well and the preparations for Sunghoon's birthday busied him enough to get his mind off the embarrassing yet intimate moment. The time you spent with him throughout the whole fiasco of planning did some salvaging. 

"Do you think he'll like this colour?" Jake was anxiously looking at the time on his watch, noting Sunghoon's imminent arrival. Jay was out with Sunghoon to get him away from the house as long as he could.

"Jake, it's just yellow," you patted his shoulder in reassurance, unable to blame the guy for being a tad bit nervous for the first party he planned for his best friend.

"You're right—I hear his car in the driveway. Guys! Off the lights now!" Jake couldn't even get a single breath of peace when speaking of the devil, Sunghoon was home. He grabbed onto your arm, pulling you with him to hide behind the counter. The others were scurrying for the cake and you were thankful you weren't tasked to handle that. 

Even though it wasn't your first time rehearsing this, the feeling of Jake holding tightly onto your wrist, his body pressing close to yours as you squatted behind the counters, all of them were the factors your heart was beating extremely fast. Not because of Sunghoon and the entirety of his surprise party, but Jake. 

The heat emitting from his body shouldn't be making you flush red, should it? The scent of his woody cologne was concentrated, the closeness of his face and his obliviousness to it all was the cherry on top.

"I'm nervous," he whispered, the voices outside becoming louder as footsteps approached closer to the front door. 

You flashed him an assuring smile, squeezing his hand lightly. "It's going to be fine. You have me,"

The undying spark in his eyes shined even in the darkness of the room. He gave your hand a squeeze back, tugging it closer to him. "I have you."

Jake's hand never left yours even when you and him jumped at the entrance of Sunghoon. Shouts echoed around the room as Sunghoon remained shocked whilst his friends wished him happy birthday. The cake was immediately carried towards him and everyone started singing the tune of the birthday song. All while everything was happening, the hand intertwined with yours was the only thing occupying your mind.

At the end of the night with Sunghoon drunk out of his mind and everyone else too tipsy to function properly, you were one of the few left sober. Surprisingly, Jake was among the few you mentioned. There on the sidewalk of his driveway you sat under the starlit sky, catching a moment of fresh air after the whole day's worth of running around.

"Can I join?" The voice you would anticipate hearing interrupted your daze, glancing up from the sidewalk to see Jake's smiling face. 

"Always," 

He didn't say anything more but instinctively sat himself next to you, his shoulders brushing against yours created a spark that neither of you could ignore. There was a short pause of silence where you and him said nothing but just basked in each other's presence. It was one of those times where you communicated through your every microexpressions, barely saying anything audibly but also expressing everything needed. 

"I have a question," 

You were the first to break the silence, taking a daring step. 

"Shoot," 

"This is going to sound cliche, and a little stupid, but bear with me," you let your curiosity wander this time, maybe it was a spur of a moment feeling which gave you a sense of sudden vulnerability, you didn't know. "Why me?" 

Jake turned to look at you. "What?" 

"Why—out of many other girls on campus—you somehow ended up liking me and asking me out on a date?" Gosh, you knew how cliche it already sounded in your head, but to say it aloud was probably worse. You were thankful Jake wasn't walking away at the question. Instead, a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. 

"It's a long story,"

"Oh God, it's not one of those movie scenes where you tell me it's all a bet and try to win me over after I get heartbroken, right?"

Jake let out an amused sounding chuckle, throwing his head back, a habit you noticed whenever he laughs at something humorous. "What is this? '10 Things I hate about you'? Thankfully no," he gave your shoulder a small bump with his, eliciting a quiet laugh from you this time. 

"You might not remember this since it's been a while," he continued on with his story and you grew more curious. "But we actually met before that night you punched me,"

"What?"

Jake knew you wouldn't remember the memory he's bringing up currently, only smiling in response as he gave you a few seconds to process. "It's a little crazy, but we actually met on a Saturday evening. I can still remember it clearly. You were the person who offered me your umbrella on that rainy day when I was stranded outside the library building. I almost didn't make it to practice if it wasn't for you,"

He turned away from you, glancing up at the sky instead, the slight smile he had on his face maintained, never once faltering. "If I have to be fully honest with you, at that time when it happened, I was still quite heartbroken from my last break up even though months had passed since then, but seeing you … I felt something. The biggest regret was not talking to you when you already left, then somehow I found my way back to you,"

Your head was a mess scrambling to piece together Jake's story. Searching in every corner of your mind, you thought back to a rainy day, from there you looked further. The blurry memory of a guy appeared, the vague recollection of a face matched the one sitting next to you. It happened, it actually happened. 

"You did," you whispered, your voice audible in the quiet night air. "Maybe there was an invisible string tying us together all along," 

"I usually don't believe in things like that, but for once, when it comes to you, I do believe it," Jake's gaze held a twinkle that resembled the stars on the night sky, his features was soft as he stared at you with a touch of gentleness you've never once seen.

"Can I be honest?" You held onto your breath, the speed of your heartbeat increasing. He was anticipating your words, looking at you expectantly. But you found yourself frozen for a moment. He was pretty, so pretty. Staring at him was enough to get you stumbling over your words. "No one has ever made me feel this much except for you,"

The unbreaking eye contact was intense. Once your confession left your lips, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the air was thick and laced with an electric spark. He was digesting every letter you uttered, the slight surprise morphed into a smile. The corners of your lips automatically followed along with his, stretching into a smile that you didn't know was Jake's favourite.

"I feel the same too," he edged his body a little closer, facing towards you more, all of which went unnoticed by you. "I want to be the only person who makes you feel this much, to make you smile, to make you laugh," he leant in closer, his face being barely illuminated by the street lamp, yet, you could see make out every little feature of his that you memorised. At that point, you knew it was happening, and there wasn't going to be any interruptions. You were determined for it to be that way. 

One of Jake's hands reached for yours that rested on the pavement ground, taking it into his and intertwining his fingers with yours. You could read his emotions through his eyes, every detail of his expression told an emotion he was feeling currently. Anxious, but also thrilled. There were the two of you who felt the same at least. Then, he said it, the thought you two were simultaneously sharing. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Finally.

You bit back a laugh and proceeded to do something you would've never dared to do until now. Without letting a second pass, you grabbed onto his shoulder clumsily and pressed your lips onto his, shutting your eyes with the feeling of your heart almost escaping your chest. 

Would it be cliche to describe the entirety as a breath of fresh air? It took a split second for Jake to actually process your lips on him then only proceeded to kiss you back with the equal amount of gentleness, want and desire. Although this wasn't your first time kissing him given that moment in the hockey arena, it was the total opposite. 

The initial shock and confusion disappeared immediately. Jake's hand travelled from the expanse of your cheek and disappeared into your hair. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and Jake took that as a welcoming invitation. Safe to say you were about to think about this the whole night instead of falling asleep.

If there was a memory you wished to experience once more, it'd be this exact moment. The intoxicating touch of his and his familiar cologne scent that ingrained into your mind itself. You felt Jake smiling into the kiss seconds before pulling apart, the feeling of it made you experience overwhelming emotions that choked you, it was as if his smile was imprinted on your lips even after and you were unable to forget about it, instead, you craved it. 

No one told you how it'd go down after a kiss. You and him both were there staring at one another in a daze, seemingly thinking 'did this happen?'. Well, it did, and you were reeling from it.

You were sure your lipstick was smudged, not to mention, the red marks left on Jake's lips gave it away clearly. Neither of you dared to move away from each other, keeping the close proximity in between. The loud music playing from the inside of the house eventually became more apparent once you gained full consciousness from the disassociation post kissing. 

"I'm glad there's no cameras this time," Jake broke the silence, lighthearted and gentle with his words just as much as his kiss was. 

You snorted, nudging him a little with your elbow. "And I'm glad no one walked in on us,"

There wasn't a word exchanged, a knowing look in one another's eyes which you read, and from that, you and him burst out laughing. If it wasn't for the fits of laughter which distracted you, you would've already been exploding from the realisation of Jake keeping your hands interlocked. 

"If I have to be really honest with you right now, my heart is beating way too fast for it to be healthy. You're quite literally about the death of me," Jake said, completely stunned as he pressed a hand on his chest. He surely had a way with his words. "I could kiss you forever," there he's done it again, erupting butterflies in your abdomen.

"I'm not entirely objecting to that, so …" you shrugged playfully, meeting Jake's watchful gaze that was filled with nothing but softness and love. 

He let out an amused chuckle, squeezing your interlocked hand with his. "I'll hold you to that."

The night eventually ended a little over midnight. It was entertaining to watch the three of Jake's best friends slurring their goodbyes to you, stumbling around trying to keep their balance but giving up and crashing onto the couch. Jake decided to leave them be and drive you back, taking the extra mile to walk you up to your doorstep. 

"It was really fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me," you fidgeted with the sleeves of Jake's jacket that was draped around you, the quietness of the night only amplified your voices in the corridor.

"I'm glad you agreed to come and also helped me out on setting this up. I don't think I would've survived," Jake offered a lopsided smile, glancing down at the floor for a moment to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm happy to be of help," you were trying your best to contain your giddiness that was bubbling in your abdomen ever since your lips made contact with his. "I think Sunghoon will love his gifts … well, after he's sober,"

"He better likes it. I spent a shit ton amount of money on that jersey," Jake snorted, shaking his head, seemingly split between regret and indifference. "It's getting late, you should head on in,"

"Right, I should. Thanks for dropping me off, like always,"

"It's alright, I want to make sure you get home safe anyway," his heartwarming words definitely made your cheeks flush a tinge of pink, but you hid it away from him by fumbling with the lock of your door. Just before you could bid him the last goodbye of the night, he stopped you. "You forgot something," 

You tilted your head, eyebrows scrunched into a look of confusion. There was nothing you could think of that you've possibly forgotten. Wait, did he mean exactly what you were thinking of? You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smirk on your face greeting him. "You're so annoying,"

It was his turn to be confused, but unfortunately for him, you didn't take note of that in time and he was left dumbfounded. In a blink of an eye, you pressed a haste kiss on his cheek. Jake thought he was dreaming. Even until then, you were unaware that he was surprised and frozen in shock, or just the plain fact that you and him both had a small misunderstanding. 

"Goodnight, text me when you're home!" With that, the door slammed shut on his face before he had a chance to regain his composure and open his mouth to say something. He let out a breath of disbelief, his hand instinctively shot up to the spot where you placed a kiss on, grazing his finger faintly there. 

"I mean the jacket." He murmured to himself, still in a daze as he turned around to make his way back. 

He meant the jacket. 

Sunghoon's birthday party had definitely become a turning point for you and Jake's relationship. Ever since that night, the both of you were inseparable. To your friends, however, it was insufferable instead. But, there was something very big and blaring in front of your face: he hasn't made anything official … yet? You tried reassuring yourself. 

"You guys kissed, twice. He's not going to miss the chance of asking you to be his girlfriend officially. It's been almost a year," Wonyoung was pouring a drink that you needed from the amount of thoughts bugging you. Maybe going to a frat party was the least sane option of trying to take your mind off of it. "Think about it, for someone like him, he's surely thought about it before and he's probably planning something,"

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, considering. Wonyoung wasn't completely wrong, neither was Jake entirely dumb. "You're right, I'm probably thinking too much,"

Wonyoung threw her arm around your shoulders, leading you to somewhere less crowded. "It's completely valid, Y/N. I'd think the same. But don't worry, knowing Jake and how he's absolutely whipped for you, you'll be fine." 

Will you? Given the past failed situationships you had that led you on to thinking you'd have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas absolutely tainted your view on talking stages. Not that Jake was just a talking stage, he was more than that, more than the ones that did you wrong. But a scar was permanent nonetheless, it's just something you had to live with.

You eventually left Wonyoung's side to search for any bathrooms that were unoccupied, which ended up being a harder challenge than expected. A big frat house with many rooms, yet most of the bathrooms were either hidden away or occupied, just amazing. The narrow corridors were also another nightmare for you having to squeeze past drunk college kids or people making out, you didn't know which was worse. You wondered if your luck had somehow ran out when you accidentally bumped into someone tall, knocking his drink over in the middle of the corridor. 

"I'm so sorry!" You reached down to pick his cup up in panic, not knowing who the person even was until you stood up straight, the fog in your brain clearing up for you to realise the person was actually someone you knew. Speaking of past failed situationships, one was unfortunately standing before you there and then. The universe must be toying with you.

"Y/N?" 

Nevermind the cup, either of you were too stunned at the sight of one another to really care about it anymore. Song Eunseok. Anton's best friend from the rival school's hockey team, but also your past situationship and talking stage. How did Anton even acquire that many jock friends, you didn't know, neither did you want to. 

Anton was the one who set you and his friend up, thinking it'd be a good idea to get you back into the dating scene. Wrong. Turns out, his best friend ended up being a total asshole that reminded you to never trust Anton and his wingman abilities, particularly him and his jock friends. That was also the reason why you doubted Jake at the start, and you hoped you'd continue being wrong about him. 

"Hey," you murmured, unknowingly tightening your grip on the plastic cup. What was there to speak about anyway? The thing that happened between you and him ended sourly and it wasn't entirely the best memory for you to sit and talk about. "I'll get going now,"

"Wait," the sound of his voice after years of not hearing it in flesh made you stop in your steps, your eyes flickering up to stare at his face. 

"What?"

"You're not going to ask me why I'm here?"

You should be confused, he wasn't around here, neither did he go to your school to mix around with people that did. "I don't care," you answered bluntly, but truthfully, it was already predictable that he's only in town for a game against the school's team, that's all. 

He wasn't impressed by your indifference, clicking his tongue as he glanced away for a second. "I heard you're going out with Jake,"

"And?"

He threw his hands up in mock defence, that gloating look on his face was only making it more punchable as minutes ticked by. "I'm just trying to warn you,"

"Whatever it is, I don't care,"

"Really? You really don't care about him being known to switch between girls all the time? How he breaks hearts and plays with girls like you, really?" Eunseok practically sneered, watching the brave front you put on faltering. 

"What?" 

"Oh, you know, he's got a reputation for himself. A good boy facade with fuckboy tendencies, many girls fall for it, I can't believe you did too," he shrugged, the maliciousness evident in his gaze. "He's probably fucking with you for a while then he'll throw you to the side after, just like every other girls,"

You knew he was lying and trying to get into your head by spewing some bullshit, so why were you letting him do so? A part of you was aware that what he said wasn't true, but the other part of you let his words get the worst of you. It was as if all the horrid thoughts you had pushed into the back of your mind resurfaced and manifested into words that were thrown into your face, more ironic that they were uttered by the same man who was the blueprint of your problems with relationships. 

"Look, whatever hockey rivalry you have, I don't care, but don't bring his and my personal matters into this," you backed away from him, wishing the ground would just swallow you whole instead of having to face him. "God, you're still such an asshole after a long time." 

The last sentence from you was seethed out of your teeth before you whipped around to speed walk away. The adrenaline and anxiety redirected your attention away from the need to find the toilet, instead, you were searching for the front door in order to leave. 

"I need to leave," you gripped onto Wonyoung's shoulder, her smile formed into a frown once her eyes landed on your face, instantly sensing the red flags. "It's okay if you want to stay, I can go on my own,"

"But we took my car, I can't just leave you—"

"I'll find a way, I'll call a cab, whatever it is. It's fine, I'll be fine," you rubbed her shoulder assuringly, though you knew in reality, you were far from fine. 

"Are you okay? Y/N, I can leave with you, it's fine—" 

Wonyoung realised you were no longer keeping your eyes on her, but you were staring over her shoulder, dread evident in your features. Before she could open her mouth to question you, you were already inching away from her. "I'll text you when I'm home. Be safe!" 

Wonyoung was having a hard time keeping her gaze on you and grasping everything in general, she ended up following your line of sight, her frown deepened once it landed on what happened to be the root cause of your panic. Eunseok. By the time it clicked in her head, it was probably too late. You were out the door. 

A gush of the cold night air hit your face just as much as Eunseok's words did. They were circling around your mind endlessly, fighting the thoughts of you convincing yourself he was just a liar. But to a certain extent, some lies do have truths hidden in them. Could this be one of the cases?

It didn't help that the memory of what Anton said came flooding in, rubbing salt to the wound. Neither was it the perfect timing for Jake to come walking up towards you, looking ready to start his night of partying.

"You're here!" 

His voice broke you out of your trance, your feet halting just in time for his hands to hold onto your shoulders, the biggest smile greeting you. However, this time around, you couldn't bring yourself to reciprocate it, not when he reminded you of all the things you told yourself to not worry about. 

"You okay? Where's your friend?" Jake's smile faltered, the look of worry flashed across his face, his grip on your shoulders didn't budge.

You couldn't meet his eyes, releasing a shaky breath. "Tell me it isn't true," your voice came out quiet, the sound of your blood thumping in your system filled your ears. "He's lying, isn't he?"

Jake's face was leveled with yours, shaking your shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "What? Who?"

"You're not going to break my heart too, right?"

"What—Y/N, you're not making any sense. Did someone tell you that? Who was it?"

"It isn't true, right? Those stories of you playing with girls' hearts just like any other asshole would, I … never believed them, so they're lying, aren't they?" 

Jake's mouth fell agape, the words that were expected to spill never came, a dawning fall in his expression spoke more than it should've. "It is. It is true," you breathed out, letting it sink in, after all those times of not listening to the rumours of him, it ended up being real. A serial heartbreaker, Jake Sim, how cliche could it be? And how unfortunate for you to attract these types of guys over again. "I'm not one of them, am I?

"You're not, Y/N, never," his hold on you was relentlessly, you only felt smaller as seconds ticked by. "Those rumours were from ages ago, back before I knew you, before I had my break up. It's been years. I realised how much of an asshole I was and I changed my ways. You have to believe me,"

You did, you believed him. His actions over the months told you enough, giving you a chance to build a trust towards him. But after hearing basically a confirmation to those rumours from him and Eunseok, you were split in half, mind in a mess. Eunseok wasn't completely wrong, but you believed he was just trying to get to you with his scathing words, and Jake admitting to it wasn't exactly the ideal cherry on top. It was supposedly the past, wasn't it? Plus, Wonyoung's survey of information about Jake was something much more worth believing than your ex situationship.

"I believe you," you whispered out, choosing to tell the truth rather than making it into a bigger mess. You ran a hand through your hair, releasing a sharp exhale. "I think Eunseok was trying to stir a reaction from me,"

"Eunseok? Song Eunseok? He's playing against us tomorrow," Jake breathed out incredulously, swallowing a string of cusses. "Y/N, forget about him or whatever he said. I admit it, I was like that in the past, back when I didn't know any better. But I promise you, I'll never, ever break your heart," 

You felt guilty, guilty for letting the worst get to you, for putting the blame on the wrong person based on assumptions you made. Jake had always been an accepting person, and you were grateful for that. "I'm sorry for acting this way. I let my fears get to me after hearing things about you from Eunseok and you admitting to them. I was scared you'd turn out to be the type of guys I hated," you paused, taking a chance to breathe in deeply. "I just didn't want to be someone else's second choice again,"

You gave yourself a chance to be completely vulnerable with him, laying all your ugly truths for him. Embarrassed and distressed, those were what describes you at that moment. You hated the way you got heated up over nothing, letting your fears and emotions overwhelm you till the point where you couldn't think straight or rationally. Your mess of a mind was distracted once Jake pulled into his chest, engulfing you into a hug. 

"You'd never be a second choice to me, in fact, you're the only one in my life," His hand stroked your head, the side of his face resting on it. "I'm sorry for letting you feel that way, or not being there to punch that asshole square in the jaw. You're not just anybody to me, you're my best friend, my partner in crime, my everything. You don't understand how much and complete you make me feel. I wouldn't replace you for anything,"

The initial shock of the hug melted into relief, his warmth provided a sense of security along with his reassuring words. Your arms wrapped around his body, reciprocating the hug. "Thank you," you swallowed, letting yourself melt into his hold. Minutes passed with no words exchanged, just the two of you holding each other, yet, it expressed much more than words were required. You trusted him, you do, and you knew he wasn't the type of man Eunseok described, maybe in the past, but the present was where you're at currently, you knew he wouldn't try hurting you. You knew him.

The drive back to your dorm was sullen and weird. 'Weird' was definitely a way to put the whole aftermath into words. You had already settled whatever rift there was before getting into the car, but why didn't it feel right at all? You were scared you hurt him, and unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same. This only caused a slight tension, neither of you daring to reach out first at that given moment. 

That was when Jake reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and settling the interlocked hands on his thigh. As always, he was the first to mend the cracks. "I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself in the first place. I never knew,"

"I don't blame you. It was my fault for not speaking out on it either. I bottled it up until it got to me. People did warn me about your past, about your old ways, but I trusted you, I knew you wouldn't hurt me," you gave his hand a squeeze, more to reassure yourself. "I just can't believe I let Eunseok get the worst of me,"

"He's just a total asshole. It's okay, I understand, I would've felt the same if I was in your shoes," there was a sigh that followed after. "Actually, what's the relationship between you and him? I never knew you two knew each other. Are you guys … friends?"

"Friends? God no. We're anything but friends at this point," your face twisted into a sour expression, the thought of being friends with a guy like him made your stomach churn in the worst way. "Long story, but Eunseok is Anton's friend, they go way back. Anton being the wingman that he claims to be, he set me up with Eunseok. We were never official, but we were more than just friends at one point. I thought he'd ask me to be his girlfriend officially since everything was going good, but he ghosted me and got with another girl after," 

Explaining your past with Eunseok was another type of reliving the bad memories. The time you spent on that man was not worth it. "Which explained why I became wary of Anton's friends. All the ones he's introduced me to ended up being the same variant as Eunseok, and that also instilled a paranoia when I agreed to try things out with you,"

Jake kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, but his raised eyebrows that were almost touching his hairline was enough to show his surprise. "Wow," he breathed out, seemingly digesting it in. "Are all Anton's friends assholes? Am I an asshole?"

You rolled your eyes at him even if he didn't catch onto it. "Luckily for you, you changed and they didn't. I'm pretty sure most of them stayed the same, Eunseok is basically a living proof of that theory. You and your friends, however, aren't like that from the beginning, which is why I like you guys,"

"I thought you only liked me?" Jake finally glanced at you, among the hint of playfulness in his gaze, there was also a warmth of understanding. 

You stifled a cackle, choosing to let out a laugh out of impressed disbelief. "Don't need to be so full of yourself, hot shot."

It was his turn to laugh. The sweetest melody of his laughter had you smiling unknowingly. It was always the simplest things about him that made you happy. You wished for it to stay as such for a long time.

By then, it became a normal habit for Jake to walk you up to your doorstep, neither of you questioned it anymore. This time, however, things didn't leave at the doorstep.

"My roommate's at her boyfriend's place for the weekend," you started, the question which came next was unexpected. "Do you … want to stay over?

A single question to change the whole trajectory of your relationship to develop into something deeper. Jake couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to your offer, his hands were still in yours, most importantly, those pairs of eyes staring back at him made it hard to reject. 

There you were, making your way over to your room carefully through the darkness of your living room, passing by the flowers he gave that sat in the vase. There were little parts of him in your shared dorm that consistently reminded you of him and his presence. 

Never in a million years would you have predicted Jake being next to you in bed. The stillness of the night air engulfed the two of you, not a word shared, but the intertwined hands between you and him was reassuring. There was nothing else that would have replaced this moment of your back against his chest, feeling the palpitations of his heart as you drifted off to sleep, unaware of Jake's fluttering eyes, sneaking occasional glances at you. 

"I'm undeniably in love with you." He muttered against the top of your head as he pressed a haste kiss. 

Jake couldn't see you, and he didn't know you were still half awake, listening in on his whisper. There was a smile that settled on your lips, the intertwined hand felt heavier than usual, just as your heart did, filled with an immeasurable amount of love for the first time in your life. What has he done to you?

One bed, two idiots in love, helplessly pining onto each other with an overwhelming amount of love that the other didn't know. Only an imminent happening would be the catalyst for one of you to break. 

Having to explain to Wonyoung at nine in the morning that you and Jake didn't do anything weird the night before was a pain in the ass. It wasn't the right timing for Jake to leave just as Wonyoung showed up at your doorstep, an arm outstretched ready to press the doorbell but stopping in motion from the shock of seeing you and him alone in the apartment. 

"You didn't leave early yesterday to fuck Jake, right?"

"I didn't fuck him at all," you seethed, glaring at Wonyoung for sayinh that the hundredth time. "I coincidentally ran into him and he brought me home,"

"And … he stayed over?"

"He stayed over," you confirmed, a little more timidly. "But we didn't do anything, okay?"

"Okay," she said as she took a sip out of her cup, an edge of doubt in her voice that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "Enough of Jake. What happened yesterday? Everything wasn't right,"

A sigh left your lips unconsciously, the thought of having to relive the whole nightmare of a fiasco by summarising it to Wonyoung was a dread. If only she could peek into your mind and memories. Nevertheless, you gave her a brief summary of what happened, from A to Z until the part where Jake ended up in your bed (that wasn't exactly how it meant to sound).

"Eunseok said that to you? He had the nerve to say that when he's literally what he's accusing Jake of? The audacity," Wonyoung was visibly fuming, pinching the tip of her nose bridge. "I hope Jake beats his ass today," she frowned, then added, "figuratively, can't have him suspended again."

For the rest of the day, you stayed home with Wonyoung by your side, waiting for the time of the game to arrive. You never knew they streamed the games online until Anton came over to set up the stream, bringing along a huge box of pizza while he's at it. On the couch in the living room, the laptop sat next to the flower vase, the commentator's voice filling the silence of the space. 

"Remind me to never set you up again," Anton mumbled through his mouth full of pizza, looking thoroughly guilty and apologetic once you and Wonyoung ran through the whole incident that he missed. "I'll cut him off … and probably a lot of them. But hey, at least Jake's a success, eh?"

Wonyoung reached over to deliver a slap on the back of his head, earning a grunt of annoyance from him. "Don't jinx it, failed cupid."

Seeing Jake on the mini laptop screen was much different compared to actually being there in person. The game was starting soon, you hoped your good luck would manifest into reality too. Each glimpse of Jake only made you both anxious and relieved, how contradicting. It was as if the cameraman knew the tension between Jake and Eunseok, occasionally panning to Jake then Eunseok.

The start of the game was relatively civil. However, there was no denying the ongoing hostility Jake had towards Eunseok. The 'accidental' slams into Eunseok, they were obviously on purpose. There was nothing out of hand just yet, but it was apparent that something would soon stir. 

"He needs to calm down," Anton murmured mostly to himself at the end of the second period, the home team drawing with the opposition. You silently agreed with him, watching as Jake's teammates hit his shoulders with some knowing looks. 

Third period was when things started getting rough. It wasn't a tense rivalry without the occasional fouls, especially when both teams were stuck on a draw, trying their best to crawl out of the game with a win. Jake stood out the most. His assists were helpful to the team, but given his continuous hostility towards the oppositions, particularly Eunseok was going to cost him something. 

The worst and unimaginable that everybody was expecting eventually came to life. The frustration in the atmosphere was felt even through the screen. Eunseok slammed his side onto Jake, but it didn't stop just there. Jake retaliated by grabbing onto Eunseok's collar, ripping his helmet off and throwing a punch across the latter's face. Both men's helmets were on the ground, gloves off and sticks flung to one side. 

The whole thing was a mess. Players stopped in their tracks to pull the two off of one another, there was a circle surrounding the fight, doing whatever they could to stop it. Even after they were pulled away from each other, the aftermath wasn't a good sight. Both players were bleeding and injured, to top it all off, a suspension was immediately issued to Jake. 

"Is this the time to switch the stream off?" Anton broke the silence in the room, the three of you meeting each others' gazes with an obvious 'oh no' on your faces. Oh no indeed.

You actually didn't know what happened after. Anton did, in fact, switch the stream off while you raced to text Jake with full worry. He wasn't responsive, so you gave him his space to let his anger cool off. In the meantime, you paced around despite your friends' reassurance that didn't help much. You weren't feeling much better even after they left, glancing at your phone way too often while praying your screen would lit up with a notification from Jake.

The evening sunset pierced through your curtains, dawn eventually made its appearance. It had been a long hour of waiting for Jake, no matter how you tried to shake the dreadful feeling, it was hard to fully ignore it. It almost felt like forever until your doorbell rang. The sinking feeling was back.

Your footsteps thud loudly against the floor, ripping the door open by its handle, meeting Jake's injured face that carried a lopsided smile, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Are you disappointed in me?"

He was about to be the death of you, in the worst possible way. You said nothing at first, walking closer, and caught him by surprise when you threw a punch at his shoulder, then again. "You asshole! You disappeared on me and ignored my texts. I thought something went wrong," 

He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you mid punch. "I forgot how painful your punches were," he tried to lessen the tension, offering a reassuring smile at you, but you only reciprocated with a frown that caused his smile to falter. "I'm sorry. I really am. I should've called you immediately after, but … I needed to cool down. I was too stuck in my head,"

"I figured, I understand," you pressed your lips into a thin line, releasing a deep sigh, you couldn't blame him either.  "Why did you do it?"

"He was a jerk," Jake said plainly, although it was already a full explanation on its own, you couldn't help but shake your head at it. 

"You shouldn't've used violence to get back at him,"

"I know,"

"You're suspended for the next game,"

"I know,"

You let the words sink in for a short moment, pursing your lips, then breathed a deep sigh through your nostrils. "Does that mean you'll be free to be my partner that day? I need someone to watch the game with,"

The initial disappointment in his face disappeared, turning into a much more hopeful expression. His eyes visibly lit up, face beaming. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I am,"

"Then I have something to ask too," Jake's voice slightly trembled at that, it was something that didn't go unnoticed by you. He extended the hand that held onto the bouquet, the most nervous smile you've seen on Jake was plastered on his face. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

There was something electrical that coursed through your veins, it could be pure shock or adrenaline. Your mind was currently short circuiting, a mix of relief, happiness and disbelief eere clogging your head to form a coherent thought. But your answer was forced through in the end, you had to push it out no matter what. 

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jake. I'd love to be your girlfriend. In every lifetime if that matters," your lips twisted into the biggest smile, it was hard to resist laughing at the shock in Jake's reaction. He must've expected the answer already, but he still couldn't hide the surprise from hearing the word 'yes'. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me,"

A rush of relief flooded his prior expressions, the littlest grin adorned his face. It was as if everything happened on cue. You grabbed the bouquet from him and next thing you knew, he used his other hand to pull your forearm, causing you to stumble into him, then there it was, his lips on yours. Out of everything, this was unexpected.

"Ouch," he winced, the small yet fresh wound on the edge of his lips being a deterrent for a second, but he was not going down like that. 

Jake tilted his head to angle his lips better, deepening the kiss and avoiding the cut at the same time. Kissing him this time was much different from the rest. This time after his long awaited question, it seemed the built up of emotions were poured into this single kiss alone. Unimaginable, that was the only way you could describe how you felt. The rollercoaster of emotions and the twist in your gut, it was your first time feeling this way. In love, that was it.

Pulling away from each other was something neither of you wanted. His forehead was resting against yours, his minty breath fanning on your lips, the dorkiest grin displayed. The two of you kept your hold onto one another, not daring to make a single move. 

You met his eyes, reading the secret love messages hidden in his brown irises that he held onto tightly. "So, do you accept my date?"

Jake leaned his head back, unimpressed. "What do you think? I already gave you my answer," there it was, his typical smirk that told you he had another idea in mind. "Want me to give you a more concrete answer?"

He didn't allow you a chance to answer when he leaned in to kiss you again, a much shorter and brief kiss. But, you got your answer, and an endearing smile that you couldn't wipe off no matter what. 

"Stop being cheesy and get your ass inside to get your wounds treated. An infection will hurt," you pushed his chest lightly, visibly flustered from his actions that he took pride in. He only threw his hands up in defence before obediently crossing the threshold. 

"Don't cry when I apply the ointment,"

"This isn't my first day at the job."

On the contrary, he actually whined a lot. You learned to put up with it despite the several attempts to force him in place. Did that confident man just turn into a whole baby? Absolutely. The bruises on his knuckles, an ugly cut on both his lips and cheek didn't phase Jake at all, he stayed proud at the fact that he got the chance to land a punch on Eunseok' face. Even though you shook your head in disapprovement, secretly, you were satisfied. 

At the end of the night, you didn't think Jake would end up staying over again, but it happened inevitably. He took the advantage of your absent roommate to spend as much time there with the freedom to lounge around. Was he there for you or your bed?

Either way, being in his presence and having his arms wrapped around you in your sleep was something you wouldn't complain about. If this was a privilege you got to enjoy every night, you would count it as a blessing you were never letting go. In his arms, you found a home you would go back to without a doubt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was grinning like the biggest fool every now and then when he stole glances at you. To him, you were the brightest star in his dark sky. After all, you had been the person who stayed in the back of his mind from years ago till then.

It might've been fate, or it might've been plain coincidence when it came to the two of you meeting. Whatever it was, all roads led you to each other. That was inevitable. 

There you were, sitting in the stands of the hockey arena, seemingly back to square one all over again. 

Everything around you was giving you deja vu but in the best way. Jake was sitting next to you, also suspended like the last time you were in this arena with him beside you. This time around, it was much different than before. He was no longer a stranger that you had one too many encounters with, instead, he was your boyfriend and best friend that you wouldn't dare trade anything for. 

"You know what?" Jake turned to look at you with a questioning glance, to which you raised your eyebrow at. 

"What?"

"I don't regret getting suspended. I got to punch that jerk and spend time with you here, I think it's pretty romantic," he had a prideful smile as he placed your interlocked hands on his lap. 

"I can't tell if I should be charmed or not," you held back a laugh, squeezing his hand while shaking your head. "Modern day romance, how cute,"

"Isn't it?" He replied shortly, averting his attention to the jumbotron, the unmistakable 'KISS CAM' was displayed on the screen as it searched for its next pair of victims once more. 'Look, it's the kiss cam again,"

You followed his line of sight, recalling the time you were once on it with Jake. That felt almost just yesterday. "I doubt it'll land on us again,"

A faint smirk on Jake's telling looks showed that he thought otherwise. "Why? Scared to kiss me?"

"So scared," you responded dryly, a tone laced with sarcasm that had him smiling as well. 

"Is it bad to say I want a cameo on the kiss cam with you again?" He pursed his lips, staring back at you with a tinge of guilt at his own confession. "I just want an excuse to kiss you,"

"You don't need any excuse to kiss me, idiot," you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours. "Admit it, you're just an attention freak, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he choked out a laugh that got you doing the same. 

As if on cue, the jumbotron screen had moved on from the previous pair, choosing the next one: you and Jake. Must the universe listen to Jake? Unlike last time, Jake didn't have a hat to hide his identity, so once people noticed it was the team's star player, the roar of the crowd only grew tenfold. 

"You see," you wished to wipe off the cheeky smirk on Jake's face, the one that he always had whenever he was right about something. "Come on, sweets,"

Despite receiving an eye roll out of annoyance from you, your smile proved something else. Without a word from you, you grabbed onto his face, pulling him in to place a quick kiss, definitely not having a full makeout session in front of the cameras. From the sound of the crowds' cheers and Jake's satisfactory smile, you could tell everyone had eaten this moment up, even Jake himself whose reddening ears were giving him away. 

"Look who's blushing!" You pointed at the clear evidence of his reddening skin, but he could only respond with an embarrassed cough.

"No, I'm not,"

"Don't lie, Jakey. You're shy," you looped your arm around his, then rested your head on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that anyway,"

"I know," he whispered, pressing the side of his face on the top of your head. "I love you, sweets," 

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze just in time for him to see the shock evident in the twist of your facial expressions. "What's with the sudden three words?"

He shook his head, pursing his lips a little. "Nothing, just telling you how I feel. I love you," he repeated once more, the effect of the eight letter word piercing through your heart, especially when it came straight from him. 

A soft, affectionate smile settled on your lips, your eyes still glued to his face. "I love you too, Jake." 

A kiss on your forehead was his reply, a simple action spoke much more than a million words could. An overwhelming wave of emotions gripped onto you just then, just as you tightened your hold on his arm at the feeling of those emotions. It was love, a special kind of love that you built to have with him and him only. 

There in that arena, you shared your first unofficial kiss with Jake, leading to a blossom of events that eventually led you to this exact moment, where you had your second kiss in the stands, this time being something more than strangers or even best friends. Lovers, eternal companions, that was what you were. All it took was to break the ice with a punch, then a kiss to fall in love. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[moon-reblogs]

✶ LOSER BF!ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE 𓍼

﹙NOTES 𖥔 ݁ enhypen hyung line as your loser fluff. fem!reader. 𓈃 ๋ 484 wc.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 heeseung’s shy smile makes your heart flutter as he shyly holds your hand. “i, um, got us matching keychains,” he mumbles, blushing. you grin, squeezing his hand. “you’re such a dork, hee,” you tease, but your eyes shine with affection. heeseung chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “only for you, babe,” he says softly. he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. the world fades away, and it’s just you and your cute, awkward boyfriend. pulling back, he grins, eyes twinkling. “you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.” you smile, your heart swelling with love. “and you’re my favorite loser, heeseung.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 jay’s endearing clumsiness always made you laugh. today, he was nervously fumbling with his words, his cheeks turning a rosy shade. “so, i was thinking,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “maybe we could, i dunno, go see that new movie together?” his awkwardness was adorable, making your heart flutter. you leaned in, teasingly brushing your nose against his. “are you asking me out, jay?” his eyes widened, and he nodded frantically, stuttering, “y-yeah, i guess i am.” you giggled, closing the distance between you two, capturing his lips in a soft, reassuring kiss.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he was nervously pacing in front of you, his cheeks flushed. “i, uh, couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he blurted out, stopping in his tracks. you couldn’t help but giggle at his adorable confession. “really?” you teased, stepping closer. he nodded.“yeah, really,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. your heart fluttered at the gentle touch, and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “you’re such a loser, jake,” you whispered, smiling. he grinned, his nervousness melting away as he pulled you into a deeper kiss. “but i’m your loser,” he murmured against your lips, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 sunghoon’s cheeks flushed a rosy hue as he fumbled with his glasses, trying to hide behind a mess of floppy hair. “you’re so adorable when you’re nervous,” you teased, poking his side playfully. he let out a soft, embarrassed laugh, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “stop it,” he mumbled, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “i’m supposed to be the one making you blush.” with a shy yet determined look, he closed the gap, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. his touch was sweet and unsure, making your heart flutter.

[moon-reblogs]

STOPPPPP THIS SERIES WAS SO GOOD- the way loneliness was described was actually so beautiful n heartbreaking it had me sobbing oml IT HAD SUCH A NICE PROGRESSION AND ENDING TOO 😭

PLZ CONTINUE WRITING THESE AUS, U DO IT SO WELL ❤️❤️❤️

if you’ll have me (i) | c.yj

here’s (finally) the first part of the monster yeonjun fic I wrote in august, right in time for his birthday! happy birthday to the terrible wonderful human being who has given me the worst brainrot I’ve experienced in a while (second only to the rot brought on by one kang taehyun), and I hope you all enjoy this <3

Pairing: Yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, regency era!au, nobility!au

Warnings: mentions of past death, mentions of period-typical misogyny

Word Count: 11.3k

Yeonjun Choi, Duke of Hastings, is in want of a wife. Boxed in from all directions by the overbearing mamas of the ton, he begins his arduous search this season for not fortune, not love, but merely the perfect woman to succeed his mother’s place. None of the daughters of high society manage to catch his eye, however, or fit his overwhelming list of standards—at least until he meets Miss Y/N L/N, the queen’s diamond of the season, newly arrived in town from abroad and said to be one of the most accomplished women to grace the ton in a generation.

You, the eldest daughter and only child of the L/N family, just want stability. With your father dead and the estate passed to a cousin, leaving only your dowry and a small pittance from the inheritance left intact, you begin your search for a husband with money enough to keep you and your mother afloat. It seems like a miracle when, after being crowned the queen’s diamond, the Duke of Hastings himself asks for your hand—but as you learn of his complete indifference to the concept of love, you begin to doubt yourself. Perhaps money is not enough to keep your hand—maybe you desired a true love match more than you thought.

Trapped in a marriage of convenience that everyone believes is a love story, you and Yeonjun find yourselves forced to reevaluate what you want out of this match. Between balls and promenades, dances and poetry, you begin to view each other beyond the pithy conversations allowed in the courting stages, learning to see one another not just as business partners, but perhaps friends as well. And as you begin to reconcile your needs and wants, your goals and desires, maybe, just maybe—

The ton’s belief that you are a love match can find some truth, too.

Part 1 >> Part 2

TXT Masterlist

The minute Yeonjun enters the club, he makes a beeline for the corner where Soobin is sitting, two small glasses set on the table in front of him. He flops into a chair and downs one of them immediately. “I am so sick of debutante season.”

Soobin raises an eyebrow. “The season hasn’t even started,” he points out.

“Exactly,” Yeonjun groans. “If it’s this bad even before they’ve been presented to the queen, how much worse will it get when all the balls and courtships start?”

“It’s kind of your fault,” Soobin says, picking up the other glass. “Maybe you shouldn’t have announced your intention to find a wife so early on.”

“I didn’t mention it,” Yeonjun hisses. “That rat bastard Wooyoung let it out before I was ready to say it publicly—”

“That’s on you for letting Wooyoung hear you,” Soobin interjects calmly. And Yeonjun can’t even argue with that—he loves Wooyoung, loves his friend dearly, but Wooyoung’s loose tongue is arguably his worst trait—so all he does is slump back into his chair and raise a finger for another drink. “You’re supposed to be comforting me,” he sulks. “Some best friend you are.”

“Well, I’ve made my opinions about your ways of getting a wife very clear, and you’ve elected to ignore every single one of them.” Soobin smiles. “Some best friend you are.”

“What’s wrong with a list?” Yeonjun frowns, crossing his arms. “Every man—no, every person—has to have ideas about who their future partner might be, I’ve just written it out.”

“It’s not the list that’s the problem. Though I’m pretty sure not a lot of people would actually write a list, either.” Soobin finishes the rest of his drink just as Yeonjun’s second one comes. “It’s your requirements for the people on that list that is the issue.”

“What’s wrong with my requirements?”

“They’re so demanding.” Soobin places his empty glass down with a loud clack. “How many people, men and women of all ages included, do you think are actually fluent in all those languages you require? All those instruments? All that dancing? Impeccable decorum too, and on top of that, to have a proper, pretty visage of some sort—”

“That’s not even a requirement,” Yeonjun argues. “My main goal is to try and find someone with a sound and clever mind to help me run the estate since my mother wants to retire to the country—”

“And that’s well and fine, Yeonjun.” Soobin sighs. “My point is, your requirements are so stringent as to alienate every lady in this society from the prospect of marrying you.”

“Soobin, I hate to sound egotistic—” Soobin snorts, which Yeonjun staunchly ignores— “but they’re literally leaping for my hand.”

Keep reading

[moon-reblogs]

୨୧ — kiki the cat (psh)

pairing. brothers best friend! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre. college au f2l fluff wc. 5410 notes. ft. jay, jake, hee, & chaewon, contains profanity

synopsis. you've liked your brother jay's best friend since you were five. you now go to the same college and one night on the way to the store, you stumble across a kitten. you want to keep it but aren’t allowed pets in the dorms. impulsively, you show up to sunghoon's apartment in hopes he'll let you keep it at his apartment for the rest of the semester.

JUST AS SUNGHOON SETTLED IN BED, SOMEONE RANG HIS DOORBELL.

he let out a loud groan, sitting back up and contemplating wether or not he was going to answer it.

maybe the person would leave him alone if he pretended he wasn’t home. he was about to lay back down when he heard the doorbell being pushed five times in a row.

“hoon!!” a muffled voice called out to him, then doing your signature knock.

it was you. his best friend jay’s little sister, or as heeseung liked to call you: the original sunghoon fangirl. 

as humble as sunghoon seemed to be, he could not ignore the line of girls who swooned over him on campus. as cliche as it is, it was true that many girls had eyes for him. they sized him up as either some untouchable god or a complete fuck boy.

but neither of those was true. you knew that best of course as the first girl to ever like sunghoon, or at least you hoped. 

at the ripe age of five, you declared your and sunghoon’s marriage, or rather future marriage.

your eyes flickered over the three boys your brother brought home with him from school, eyes coming to a halt and staring a little too hard once they landed on sunghoon.

once your eyes landed on sunghoon you decided your search for a boyfriend was over, because the perfect one was sitting next to you in the back seat. all thanks to jay.

whispering to the older boy that when you grew up you would fall in love and get married. he awkwardly nodded, not wanting to upset you because his mother told him never to argue with younger kids as they get angry easily. 

now at nineteen and twenty, you were still very adamant about your ‘pact’. even though it was only a statement since sunghoon never verbally agreed.

over the years it had been an ongoing joke between him, jake, heeseung, and jay that you were the reason sunghoon’s relationships were never long term.

which of course wasn’t fully true, but many girls just felt like he couldn’t fully commit to them. though the problem never being you, since you avoided him at all costs when applicable.

sure, you were down horrendous for sunghoon and wanted to fight every girl that looked his way (because they didn’t know him like you did), but when it came to his love life you never dared to interfere.

though when he was single, which was the majority of the time, you made constant remarks and jokes regarding your feelings for sunghoon. all four of them chalking them to be an ‘inside joke’ since they believed you only said those things to honor five-year-old ____’s dream. they all even played into it.

unfortunately it wasn’t a joke and you were undoubtedly in love with sunghoon.

of course, it was seemingly unrequited but you didn’t let yourself fall into a pit of teenage angst. instead, you let your feelings stay the same, holding onto some hope and the fact that in college you could meet a guy who liked you as much as you liked sunghoon.

a year after jay and his friends graduated you had gotten accepted into the same college as sunghoon. 

jay and his other friends going to a neighboring campus a forty-minute drive away. 

following many extensive meetings with your guidance counselor, you and your mother decided it was the best fit for you.

though you couldn’t deny that sunghoon being there was an added a bonus.

you texted him the night you had made your final decision, jokingly saying it was fate. 

he’d liked the message, and for a few minutes didn’t respond. you fell back on your bed in defeat, grabbing the nearest pillow and screaming into it. 

your phone then pinged, sunghoon finally responding with a short ‘it’ll be nice to have another familiar face around’. 

you felt a blush spreading on your cheeks and again reached for the same pillow to scream. 

you and sunghoon had had semi matching contacts for each other ever since you had received your first phone. again he passed it off as a joke, while it fed into your delusions.

you had him saved as husband, while he had you saved as ‘self-proclaimed wife.”

you’d rather it just be wife, but it was a start.

though he had changed it every time he had a girlfriend which was understandable, but would always somehow remember to change it back when they broke up.

you hoped that it meant something.

now that you had settled in and been going to school with him for a year, the two of you had gotten closer. as you saw each other frequently, around school, or even on rare occasions when you hung out at his apartment when your brother came to visit.

you had finally gotten as close enough to sunghoon to where you could stop complaining over how he didn’t like you and was content being a friend if anything.

IT ALL LED YOU TO BE OUTSIDE SUNGHOON’S DOOR AT ELEVEN AT NIGHT.

once he’d recognized your knock he got up and made his way to let you in. opening the door he felt an unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in his chest when he saw you in your pajamas cradling a baby cat in your arms staring up at him.

“who’s cat is that?” he made space for you to walk past him into his home, shutting the door. 

“it can be ours.” you sat down on his couch.

“i was going to buy a small cake roll for my roommate because she had a bad day and then i got distracted and saw this cute little cat and she’s allergic to cats so now i’m here because i want to keep it.” you rambled even more.

“did you walk all the way here? didn’t i tell you it’s not safe for you to be out alone after dark?” he scolded, sitting down in the empty spot next to you. 

“does your roommate know you are here and did you bring the pepper spray jay gave you?” 

“yes hoon i did all of that! i just came here because you live off campus so you’re allowed to have pets here!”

“what if i don’t want it ____? did you consider that?”

“you can’t say no to me, my birthday is coming up soon!” you sulked, holding the kitten out for him to see. 

“how do we even know that it doesn’t have diseases..” he argued. 

“because i found the nearest vet and we are taking it tomorrow!” you grinned. “can we please keep her hoon? you know i’ve always wanted a cat since we were kids!” 

he did know that. he remembered more things about you than you could ever imagine.

“we can keep him for now but if the vet says otherwise we are releasing him,” he said sternly. “but since you walked here i don’t want you going back alone so you’re staying here.”

your heart fluttered at the fact you were going to get to sleep at his place for the first time without the presence of your older brother. 

but that fluttering came to an abrupt stop right when he added “it’s what jay would want”. 

he motioned for you to come with him to his room so you could both go to bed. you followed behind him still cradling the cat.

“wait hoon we need to feed her and give her a place to sleep!” you paused in your tracks. 

he sighed but wordlessly went to his kitchen to get a small bowl of milk and an old blanket. He returned to the bedroom, settling the bowl onto the ground and making a makeshift bed for the baby kitten. he gently took the animal from your hands, setting it down on the floor, guiding it towards the milk.

you kneeled next to him watching the scene in front of you, eyes glimmering with envy for the cat at how gently sunghoon treated it. 

he looked over at you already staring at him and smiled softly.

“what will we name it,” he asked you softly.

“i want to wait until we know if we can keep it.”

with that you both stood up, sunghoon letting you take his bed while he tried to prepare to sleep on the couch. which you quickly shut down, saying there was more than enough space left for him, which was true.

after bickering for five minutes about where sunghoon would sleep he finally caved and laid down on the empty spot of the bed, hoping jay would never hear of this. he would be teased till the ends of the earth.

“goodnight ____,” he said from his side of the bed.

“goodnight hoonie,” you yawned. 

hugging a pillow you had put in between you two, you wished you didn’t have to sleep and could embrace the only time you would ever be in this situation with him. but alas your eyelids betrayed you. 

sunghoon struggled to fall asleep, extremely hyper-aware of the small proximity. right before he finally drifted off into slumber you mumbled a curt, ‘i love you’ in your sleep. 

he knew he shouldn’t assume that it was directed towards him and that you could very well just sleep talking. he told himself he shouldn’t think so hard about what you said. though the warmth spread throughout his body begged to differ.

however, one thing he knew for sure was that wasn’t going to fall asleep now. 

YOU WOKE UP TO FIND SUNGHOON ALREADY STARING AT YOU.

you quickly shut your eyes again feeling like you were crazy, while sunghoon cleared his throat.

he immediately stood up, went to the corner where you had placed the cat the night before and brought it back to you on the bed. you sat up, resting your back on his headboard.

he wordlessly handed you the kitten so you could cuddle it. then reached over to unplug your phone from his charger and give it to you.

your screen was full of a myriad of messages from your roommate chaewon. from asking if you were okay staying at sunghoon’s, if you wanted her to pick you up, if the cat was cute, and more. 

you hadn’t checked your phone since getting here last night. 

you told her you would tell her everything when you got home, not wanting to actively geek out about sunghoon while you were with him. 

fifteen minutes later you ended up in the kitchen. making some pancakes for the both of you while sunghoon got ready. 

“what time does the vet open?” he finally spoke up.

“like twelve?” you replied. “you mind dropping me off right?”

“i’m going with you ____, i’d like to be there if this cat is going to be living with me until you can figure out what to with it.”

“you’re really going to let me keep her?” 

sunghoon swore your eyes were shining when you looked at him. he needed to take care of this cat for you. 

since you had showed up last night with just your phone and kitten in hand, he needed to drive you to your dorm so you could get ready. 

both of you quietly eating the chocolate chip pancakes you made and heading out to his car.

reaching your dorm, he unlocked the car waiting for you to get out, expecting to just wait in the car.

“are you not coming in?” you hopped down from the passenger's side.

“oh,” he started. “i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”

“no, it’s okay! you let me sleep over and keep a cat so…”

you both headed inside and took the stairs up to your room. sunghoon held the kitten while you unlocked the door. walking in you saw chaewon at her desk finishing up some assignments before her first class.

“____, i said no cat.” chaewon said bluntly.

“i thought you had class!” you defended yourself.

“i don’t, and also the fur!”

“it’s fine, the cat is going to live with me,” sunghoon interjected.

chaewon finally registered you had brought someone with you. her eyes flickering between you and sunghoon.

“well i’m leaving now,” she started collecting her stuff. “i do not want an allergic reaction so make sure to borrow hanni’s vacuum.”

“where are you going if you don’t have class?” you sat down at your desk, directing sunghoon to sit on your bed.

“i’m going out with,” she coughed, not wanting to say the name out loud. 

“oh my gosh really?” you stood up, shaking her by the shoulders.

“yes! she asked me to go downtown with her-” sneezing before finishing her sentence. she pushed you away due to you being covered in cat fur.

“oh sorry, have fun though! send me pictures! oh my gosh did she imply it was a date?” you rambled as she put on her shoes and rushed out the door.

“bye ____!”

“bye chae good luck!”

you turned back to sunghoon sitting on your bed, cuddling the cat while he scrolled on his phone. unconsciously breaking into a smile at the sight.

“hoon, what time is it?” you asked, looking through your drawers for something to wear.

“11:04” he looked up from his phone.

“okay, give me like 20 minutes.” taking steps towards the bathroom to wash your face and get changed. in a couple of minutes, your makeup was done and you informed sunghoon that you were ready to go. 

THE KITTEN DID NOT HAVE ANY DISEASES.

sunghoon felt conflicted after getting the green light that the cat could be turned into a housecat after getting some vaccines. the veterinarian had suggested some food brands and tips on how to take care of the kitten, and before he knew it the appointment was over.

both silently entering the car. the car ride was silent. you sat there trying to figure out a name. sunghoon sat there wondering why his whole body had felt incredibly warm since you had shown up at his door last night.

he started going through a pros and cons list the entire drive home in his head. 

the pro he kept coming back to was you would be over at his house more often. 

but it felt weird to think of that as a pro. not because he wouldn’t want you to spend time with more but because you were to put it simply, just jay’s little sister. so why did he catch himself stealing glances at you every time he reached a red light?

a quick trip to the pet store getting, a bed, bowls, canned cat food, and some small toys you insisted on getting. you quickly paid, not wanting sunghoon to since a small kitten now inhabited his house that he would now co-parent. 

when getting back to his apartment the both of you set up the cat’s stuff. staying for a while before chaewon came to drive you home. 

“so, how was it?” she smirked, pulling out of the parking lot.

“i could ask you the same thing.”

looking down at your phone, it read: “sunghoon sent you money.”

sighing as he paid the exact amount as the receipt on your lap.

SUNGHOON WAS STARTING TO FEEL INSANE.

once he was alone in his apartment he texted jake. voicing his concerns but not name-dropping as jake would laugh in his face, telling him that he knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.

jake had quickly got fed up not knowing who sunghoon was talking about so he pressed the call button without hesitation.  

“you like ____ don’t you,” jake giggled from the other side of the line. “i saw her post that cat you were describing.”

“i don’t know!” sunghoon groaned. “i think i might, but she’s jay’s little sister.”

“so what! she isn’t your little sister! has jay has never told you she was off limits?” jake argued.

“no,” sunghoon mumbled. “but you could have worded that better you know.”

“i mean there's something between y’all,” jake advised. “she’s been in love with you since we were six.”

“she’s just joking.”

“yeah and i can drive.”

“no, you can’t-”

“i’m saying you're wrong and in denial..” the boy on the phone sighed. “how about you see what happens while you take care of your new child.”

“not my child.” sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“cat co-parent. gaeul would be furious.” 

gaeul would be if she could talk. sunghoon abruptly hung up. maybe he did like you to an extent, he was taking care of a cat for you for crying out loud.

the next time jay and jake came to visit, sunghoon was undeniably on edge.

for the past month you had frequented his apartment more than you could count on your fingers. coming after classes and staying until after dinner. 

it was starting to feel so domestic, thinking about how this is what it could be like if you and sunghoon were dating. indulging on the fact this was the closest you’ve ever been to him.

when jay saw the kitten sitting on your lap when he walked in the front door he thought he was seeing things. sunghoon had been an avid cat hater ever since his family got gaeul, and seeing that cat only further confirmed what jake had told him a couple of weeks back.

he was only waiting for sunghoon to come to him now.

“what’s its name?” jay asked, patting the gray cat on its head.

“her name is kiki!” you exclaimed. “you are now an uncle, this is my daughter.”

“so is sunghoon the dad?” jake giggled mischievously.

“um.. well i mean i’ve never asked?”

“i guess i am since she’s with me almost 24/7”

“____ or the cat-” sunghoon muffled jake with a pillow. 

THE SEMESTER WAS ENDING AND SUNGHOON STILL HADN’T TOLD YOU ABOUT HOW HE FELT.

the weeks full of rain soon turned into warm days. the tulips around campus had sprouted. an assortment of pink, blue, and purple flowers filling the grass. summer was right around the corner. 

though spring and summer only meant one thing, finals.

sunghoon had not seen you for about a week at this point. his finals had been done for a couple of days while you had all of yours during the last stretch before break. he stayed home most of the time thinking about how he could confess to you. 

from the time you had spent together, his apartment was your second home.

he didn’t realize the sense of normalcy having you around provided until you could no longer stay with him and kiki.

kiki had been doing great. she was no longer the scrawny little kitten she first was. she had healthily gained some pounds through her recommended diet, slowly warming up to sunghoon more as his only roommate.

sunghoon had given you a copy of his key so you could come while he was gone to spend time with kiki whenever you pleased.

his favorite sight to come home to was seeing you and kiki snuggled up on his bed sound asleep. sometimes he would even join you two. you intentionally never slept in the dead middle of his bed, always leaving room for him in case he came home, not wanting to be a bother if he also felt tired and wanted to lay down.

but as the semester came to an end, he knew that you would soon be able to buy an apartment and take the cat for yourself.

he couldn’t stand thinking of you not being there when he got home nine times out of ten.

he wished that he could just wake up one day from one of your afternoon naps with you snuggled up against him. 

SUNGHOON WAS TOTALLY FUCKED.

finals were over. sunghoon had procrastinated to the very last second, and now you were on your way to pick up kiki and head home for the summer.

if he couldn’t just get it out today once you walked in the door he would genuinely go insane. 

he had gone through a practice confession three times last night with jake on call. jay refused to sit and listen to it, but he did give sunghoon the go that he trusted him with his sister. 

he was pacing around his living room, failing miserably to calm his nerves.

“kiki what if your mom doesn’t like me back?” he knelt in front of the couch, the kitten becoming eye level with him. she got closer to sunghoon and sat in front of him, meowing as if she was responding.

“yea i hope so too, i don’t want you to become a child of divorce.” sunghoon sighed, stroking kiki on her head. 

“hoon why are you talking to the cat..” you spoke up, sunghoon being too immersed in his conversation with kiki to notice the door being unlocked.

“oh hi ____,” sunghoon stood back up, scratching his neck and facing you.

“hi hoon,” you took off your jacket and shoes. “are you okay hoon? you look a little warm.”

“no i’m not! um i mean i am but-” he tripped over his words. “i don’t even know anymore.”

“do you need anything?” you walked up to him, feeling his forehead.

“no, but can we talk?” he sat down on the couch, he gestured for you to sit down next to him, kiki climbed into your lap.

sensing the awkward tension in the room, you also began to feel worried. sunghoon looked undeniably nervous which then rubbed off on you.

what if he found out you liked him, that the ongoing joke was never a joke in the first place? 

“i’m going to say something,” he shakily breathed out. “and i want you to listen to it all before considering hitting me or something.”

“okay,” you nodded. “should i be scared?” and awkwardly laughed. 

“trust me i’m more scared than you.”

yo moved so that you were fully facing him, letting kiki down from your lap so she could roam and not interrupt. tilting your head to connect your eyes with his and give him your full attention. which was never hard for you since you stared at his face often. he cleared his throat and mirrored your actions, now face-to-face with no distractions.

“i practiced this but i think i might just wing it.” he started, avoiding eye contact. 

“i like coming home to you and kiki asleep on my bed, i like how you leave a spot for me on the bed even if you don’t notice it,” you felt like you were dreaming, watching all the words seventeen-year-old you yearned to hear before he left for college leave his lips. 

“i like how i was the first person you came to with kiki when you have plenty of other friends who live off campus, i like how you’ve never been shy to show you like me ever since we were kids,” he grabbed your hands, and you felt your stomach churn. 

“i like you ____.” he breathed out, searching for any sign of return of feelings. 

you felt like you were going to collapse. your clothes starting to feel like millions of layers of itchy fabric. the collar on your shirt felt tight around your neck. the room began to appear extremely fuzzy, with complete silence, only accompanied by the pounding in your head. 

desperately trying to find words but they failed to come up in your head, and your mouth was muted.

“____? i’m sorry, please say something.” sunghoon worried, feeling you grip his hand tighter. 

“oh my god i thought you were going to tell me that you don’t want to help with kiki anymore because she gonna live with me now.” you let out the breath you were holding.

“why would i do that?” he asked in a confused tone.

“i don’t know it must be annoying having your best friend's little sister come over every day to check on her cat,” you replied. “you probably couldn’t have any girls over.”

“i don’t need any girls over but you,” he relaxed back on the couch.

“you’re so cheesy,” you elbowed him. “i like you too, i think everyone knows.” copying him you sunk into the couch cushion and leaned on his shoulder.

“is jay going to kill you now?” you turned your head towards the black-haired boy next to you.

“you underestimate me,” he said, resting his head on yours. “i asked him three months ago!”

“you’ve liked me for three months now?” eyes threatening to fall out of their sockets.

he grabbed you by your waist and brought you into his lap. resting his forehead on your head and inhaling your strawberry shampoo. 

“well came to terms with it..” he mumbled into your hair.

“i win! I’ve liked you since i was five.”

“i know, but i was in denial since we joked so casually about it.”

kiki hopped up onto the couch, making herself comfortable in your lap. purring as you gazed down on her and stroked her fur. you smiled, finally, your dreams were semi-true. you had a kitten and sunghoon all to yourself. you were starting to feel your eyes burn. 

“kiki you will not be a child of a divorce!” sunghoon told the kitten, bringing his free arm around to pet the small cat.

the thought of you not seeing sunghoon now that you’d be able to take kiki off his hands if he hadn’t confessed made the stinging in your eyes turn into small water droplets. the tiniest tear sliding down your right cheek was enough for you to turn your head away as far as possible to wipe the stray tear.

sunghoon noticed immediately, cupping your face and bringing it towards him.

“ew sorry i’m being dramatic,” you sniffled, avoiding his eyes by putting your hand in front of your eyes.

“no you’re not,” he wiped some stray tears. “but why are you crying?”

“i don’t know! i’m just feeling a little overwhelmed..” 

“i know i have that effect on people,” sunghoon joked, planting a kiss on your cheek, resulting in you taking kiki and jumping off his lap. “where are you going?” 

he watched you take the gray kitten and make a run for it to his room, trying to shut the door on him. standing up simultaneously and chasing after you, blocking you from closing the door with his left arm. 

putting kiki on her bed, you flopped onto sunghoons bed and slipped underneath the duvet. sunghoon follows after you, but not before approaching the cat in the corner of the room, muttering a quick goodnight like he did every night. he never knew he would like having a cat this much, but it being your idea gave some bias.

it wasn’t the first time you’ve slept over at sunghoon’s house, but it was the first time falling asleep in his arms. 

YOU WOKE UP TO THE LOUD VOICES IN THE KITCHEN.

sunghoon had forgotten that jay and jake would be there in the morning the next day, but he wasn’t expecting to hear his doorbell ring at nine. he gently slid his arms out from underneath you and let them in.

“why are you guys here so early” he squinted, rubbing his eyes.

“why were you still asleep? i told you nine,” jay said, walking straight to the kitchen.

“because ____ is still asleep.” sunghoon retorted.

“not anymore,” you yawned from the corridor, walking closer to greet your brother. you gave him a brief hug before moving onto to sleepily bury your face in sunghoon’s chest.

“gross. it's already started,” jake made a face of disgust, laying his head flat on the dining room table.

“hi to you too jake.” you looked up and waving at him.

jay had made the four of you breakfast and gave you both a whole speech about how he would do very bad things if sunghoon were to mess things up with you. also going into depth about things that made jake stuff his mouthful of food and cover his ears. you wished you did the same.

perhaps the nearly sixteen years of pining for your older brother's best friend was worth it.

BUT ONE THING YOU DID KNOW FOR SURE WAD THAT YOU NEEDED TO CALL YOUR MOTHER.

kiki's first birthday! (extra)

the apartment was decorated, maybe even over-decorated. pink and yellow streamers going from one side of the kitchen to the other. hanging from the ceiling was a string of letters reading ‘happy first birthday kiki’ in pink letters. 

“hoon!” you came in from the front door holding a cake. “you bought candles right?”

“yup!” sunghoon walked over to you from his spot in the kitchen.

he took the cake, giving you a quick peck. you trailed behind him admiring his decoration skills. sunghoon placed the cake on the dining table and opened the lid. inside the white box was a small white cake, piped with pink icing, and writing that matched the banner. 

you took the candles from the kitchen counter and took the cake out. then placed the number one candle on the center back. 

both of you admiring the cake, before being interrupted by a ring on the doorbell.

leaving sunghoon in the kitchen, you opened the door. chaewon greeted you on the other side with a small present wrapped in white paper. she also held a mini headband small enough for kiki to wear. though you weren’t sure if you would even get it on kiki.

“i got the birthday girl something to wear!” the blonde-haired girl grinned, waving around the headband. 

she walked inside and set the present on the coffee table and walked over to kiki resting on the floor. chaewon sat down beside the kitten, pulling out a mask, glasses, and gloves from her bag. she put them on skillfully and quickly.

you and sunghoon shared a glance and let out laughs.

“hey! you can’t blame me for wanting to be safe.” chaewon huffed and crossed her arms. 

following after was another sound from the door. rather than ringing the doorbell jake opted on forcefully banging on the doors like a maniac. causing all three of you to roll your eyes. sunghoon taking one for the team, walked up to the door, and let the three guys outside in. 

“hi guys!” jake smiled, carrying his present for the cat unwrapped. “i couldn’t find a bag sorry..”

jay and heeseung following closely behind, heeseung with a pale blue bag, and jay with nothing.

“why didn’t you bring your niece a gift?” you chided your empty handed older brother.

“i’m bringing her on a shopping spree!” jay picked up the cat, spinning her around. “i’m the best uncle ever!”

“she can’t go out in public,” sunghoon deadpanned.

“i’m bringing you two on a shopping spree!” jay corrected himself, sitting down on the smaller couch.

“why is the girl on the couch suited up like someone is sick..” heeseung whispered to you. 

“that’s chaewon,” you whispered back. “she’s allergic to cats.”

an hour later you found yourselves in the kitchen surrounding the cake and wearing party hats. you holding kiki in your arms while sunghoon held the cake in front of the gray kitten. just as you predicted, kiki put up a fight while you tried to coerce her into wearing the party chaewon bought. resulting in some scratched littered around your arms.

after singing happy birthday you held kiki in front to blow out the candles from behind her. 

sunghoon and you were glad that it was kiki’s birthday. more like the anniversary of the day you had brought her home, but birthday sounded better. the day finally arrived and you were relieved, as you had avoided cutting her nails for a week so she could go crazy when opening her presents. 

she received a mouse toy from chaewon, some oddly expensive cat food from heeseung, and a plushie that eerily resembled gaeul a lot.

once everything was done and everyone was ready to leave, jay shouted that he would send sunghoon’s mom the pictures to show gaeul. 

you were to blame for sunghoon’s one-sided beef with the whole cat population for no particular reason finally coming to an end.

[moon-reblogs]

♠️off limits: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 19.6k

synopsis: your older brother has always told you “no boys” and his friends “sister is off limits”, which always worked…until everyone comes back home from college and you see how grown up his best friend has become…

genre: friends to lovers, older brothers best friend!au, forbidden love, eventual smut.

warnings: swearing, masturbating, fingering, reader being called a “bad girl” once, alcohol, blood mentions, sex in a hot tub, unprotective sex, oral (m. receiving), dom!jake, hair pulling, cum eating, MINORS DNI! lemme know if i skipped anything ♡

a/n: jake is so older brother best friend coded I couldn’t help myself

The last thing you expected was your older asking if you were planning to head home during the last bit of your winter break. 

You raised your brow at the texts from your brother, thumbs hovering over the keyboard debating how to let him down easily in the nicest way possible that you rather lounge around in your dorm room in your PJs for the last two weeks.

You sighed and fell back on your bed, “Guess I should start packing then.” 

You knew Jay was right, it’s been roughly a year since the two of you were back at home at the same time. And even when both were at home, one was always going out and never really stayed home. 

Maybe spending the next two weeks at home wasn't such a bad idea. Spend some quality time with your family. 

Or so you thought until you walked into your parents' house with your duffle bag and backpack in your hands staring into the living room and seeing not just your brother, but his three best friends. 

The same three best friends he grew up with who all followed him to the same college after high school graduation. Ones you haven’t seen in like four years. 

You’re only a year younger than your brother and two of the friends while two years younger than the oldest one in their little circle. 

You basically grew up with them as well, since you were just a grade below them. 

They haven’t even noticed you arrived yet. Your parents weren’t even home from their jobs yet. 

The four boys sat on the couch, their hands going a hundred miles per hour on the Nintendo Switch controllers going head to head in smash bros. 

They all started screaming as one took the rest out. 

You dropped your bags to the floor, clearing your throat to show your presence. 

Jay was the first to turn around, his smile growing all the more wider seeing you. Jay dropped the controller onto the coffee table, stepped on the couch, and jumped over the back of it, “Hey stink!” 

You cringe at the nickname he continues to call you even as an adult. He wraps his arms tightly around you, squeezing you. 

You hug your brother back, tapping his back, “Jay, you can let go now.” 

As Jay steps to the side, his three friends fully come into your view, all their eyes on you. 

You tried hard to not drop your jaw at the three of them. 

“Hey, Y/N!” all three of them said in sync. 

Heeseung fully turned his body around, leaning on the back of the couch, “You’ve sure grown up a lot since the last time I saw you.” 

Heeseung stood up, stepping over the couch the same way your brother did, rushing up to you and squeezing you just as tightly. 

Sunghoon was next at your side, pulling you into a small hug, “It’s been what? Like four years?” 

You nodded, “It has been a while, hasn’t it guys?” 

“Jake, what are you doing?” Jay called him, “Come say hi too, don’t be rude.” 

Jake stood from the couch, his eyes locking with yours, and didn’t leave them until he was in front of you, arms stretched out, “Was just saving the best hug for last.” 

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Haven’t changed at all, have ya Jake?” 

He chuckled, his heart beating loudly in your ears as you rested your head on his chest. 

Jake pulled away from you, taking a step back, “I’ve changed!”

Jay scoffed, “Right. We’ll say that.” 

“Most that has changed is your grades are a bit better than high school.” Sunghoon teased, placing a hand on his best friend. 

“Bro,” Jake playfully shoved him, “I’ve grown up a lot!” 

Oh yes, that he did. 

All of them have. It’s only been four years, but each of them has grown up. They went from those nerdy boys you would scrunch your nose at saying they have cooties while holding your index fingers into an x, to the most good-looking men you’ve ever seen. 

Four years feels like it’s been a long time, mostly with how they are in front of you right now. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts, as Jay sets a hand on your shoulder, “Let’s get back to playing Smash Bros and let Y/N rest, she drove longer than we did.”

It was true, you drove three hours to get back home while they only had an hour. You were overdue for a nap. 

Jake waited for you to glance over at Jay before eyeing you up and down. You’ve sure grown up a lot too in the last four years. He was expecting the same girl from all those years ago, oh but he was wrong. 

Jake eyeing you down didn’t go unnoticed by his friends, mostly Jay who was shooting darts into Jake’s soul. 

“Oh also!” You said as you picked up your bags, “How long are you three staying here today?” 

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around Heeseung and Jake’s necks and pulled them in, “We are here the whole two weeks.”

You raised a brow, confused. Of course, they are going to be in town the whole time, “I meant here at the house,” you said pointing your index finger to the floor, “Aren’t you staying with your families while you’re in town?”

Heeseung chuckled, “Nah, we are staying here, that’s what Hoon meant by being here.” 

You glanced at your brother, a smirk on his face, “Nice to know I was told.” You glared at him. 

Jay shrugged, “It was last minute.” 

“We will go see our families, don’t worry,” Sunghoon smiled, “I have to see my little sister, or else she’ll kill me for not coming back home.” 

You glanced between the four of them before deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about at the moment, you needed a nap, “Whatever, I am taking my nap.” 

The three boys turned around heading back to the couch, Jake took one last look at you as you headed for the stairs, Jay catching him once again looking, Jake quickly turned back around and placed himself back on the couch. 

Jay quickly caught your arm before you were too far up the stairs. You turned and looked at him, giving him your nastiest side eye, “What corn lover?” 

“The rule still stands.” 

You raised a brow, “What rule?” 

Jay tilted his head at you, “Really?” 

You gave him a confused look, trying to read his mind. The gears in your brain turned until it finally clicked. 

“You mean the rule from when we were kids?” 

He nodded, “No boys.” 

You rolled your eyes, “As if, they still have just as many cooties as they did four years ago.” 

Jay nodded, “Good. Keep it that way. Get rest, I’ll come to wake you when mom and dad get home. We are barbecuing tonight. I’m grilling.” 

Your mouth was already watering thinking about your big brother's cooking. The one major con of going to a college further away was missing his cooking.

You continued your journey up the stairs and into your childhood room, seeing that your parents left everything the same as it was when you left it. Dropping into your bed, face first into the pillow, sleep finds you quickly. 

Jay dropped himself back on the couch, picking up the switch controller, “Alright douche bags, let’s get this party back in motion.” 

Everyone grabbed their controllers except Jake, who had his nose in his phone and searched for your Instagram account from Jay’s account, curiously stalking through your account. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Jay, who glanced over at Jake’s phone, catching him staring at the recent selfie you posted a week ago. 

“Sim Jaeyun.” Jake jumped at his government name being called so sternly by his hyung. 

“Jesus Christ, what?” Jake breathed out, his hand flying to his chest, his heart rate increasing, “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jay glanced back down at his phone, bringing realization to Jake causing him to quickly lock his phone. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon also had their eyes on Jake. He looked between the three of them, raising a brow, and glared at them, “What?” 

Heeseung slowly faced back to the TV, “I ain’t saying anything.” 

“I am,” Sunghoon chimed in, “We all saw how you eyed her.” 

Jake quickly shook his head, realizing the situation he got put in, “It’s not like that! She just grew up a lot more than I was expecting.” 

That wasn’t helping Jake’s case. Jay was just getting more pissed. 

“Dude,” Jay narrowed his eyes, “That’s my little sister.”

“Who is also like a little sister to us,” Heeseung added in. 

“Who passed you the baton?” Jake groaned, finger pointing at Heeseung and eyes looking between all his best friends, “Why are you all on my ass?” 

“Off limits.” Jay said, bringing in the old rule from childhood, “Nothing has changed.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, slouching into the couch, “Obviously! Trust me, I am not interested, like a little sister, remember?” 

“Good. Goes for all three of you, she’s off limits.” 

The conversation ended there. The last thing Jay needed was having to pull any of his friends off you. He was way too protective of you and knew his friends way too well, mostly after the sex demons they became after graduating. It was already bad enough in high school, but with the freedom college gave the four of them along with the parties and of course, females…

Jay had to protect you at all costs. And he would always stand by it. 

—

Jake’s hands trembled as he stood in front of your bedroom door. He’s stood by your door many times as a child growing up, always kicking your door open and running away with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, before you could shout at them for annoying you. 

But obviously, you all weren’t children anymore. So why was Jake so scared to simply knock on your door?

Jay decided to start grilling before your parents got home so that it would be ready or almost ready by the time they walked in. 

Your parents arrived just at the right time as the steak was almost done grilling. 

The three boys sat at the picnic table outside by the portal heater and set up the plates while Jay stood by the grill, grilling away. 

Your parents hugged each of the boys, welcoming them into their home like old times. 

“Oh, where is Y/N? Jongseong?” your mother asked sweetly, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I saw her car outside.” 

“She’s napping,” Jay said, turning over the steaks, “Everything is ready, so someone should go wake her.” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon were already way too busy talking to your dad to notice what Jay said, your mother ultimately decided she’ll go wake you.

“Mom! No no no!” Jay quickly spat, “Go sit down, you just got off work, I’ll make one of the boys do it.” 

Your mother sweetly smiled, “Are you sure? I can do it.” 

Jake quickly stood from the table, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll go get her, Mrs. Park, please sit.” 

She quickly pulled Jake into another hug, “Such a sweet boy like always!” 

And that’s how he found himself at your door. The sounds of the laughter of his friends and basically his second family echo from the background as he continues to hover his trembling fist at your door. 

“Come on, Sim…” he whispered, trying to hype himself up, “She’s the same girl you grew up with.” 

Jake’s knuckles made contact with the wooden door, leaning himself closer to listen for any movements. 

Nothing. 

He knocked again but a bit louder, “Y/N?” silence. Another knock, “Hey, Y/N?” 

There was shuffling on the other side, the door opening too quickly. You and Jake were now face to face, barely inches apart. 

Oh lord was Jake’s heart racing. 

You were in your favorite pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt back from high school with the school's logo on it. Your hair was slightly messy from sleeping and had on the same pair of glasses you wore growing up. 

Jake was weak. He always loved your glasses growing up. Thinking they shaped your face nicely and made you look really cute. Of course, he’d never tell you this, he just always made fun of you like the other boys did. 

Jake quickly stepped back, giving you space. 

You yawned and did a small stretch, “What’s up?” 

“Umm,” Jake quickly looked away from you, too scared you’d see how his heart was practically bursting through his chest, “Your parents are home, and dinner is ready.” 

Whatever tiredness you once felt was out the window at the mention of Jay’s dinner. 

“Okay! Let me change and I’ll be downstairs.” You closed the door quickly, not wanting to miss a second away from the delicious dinner. 

Jake made his way back down the stairs and outside, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket as he sat back down. 

Jay raised a brow, “My sister?” 

Jake shrugged, “She’s coming. Said she was going to change.” 

As if on cue, you slid open the glass door, quickly embracing your mother. 

You wrap your arms around her from behind, surprising her. 

“Hello, mom!” 

She quickly turned around to hug you properly, “Oh my sweet girl! I’ve missed you!” 

You smile, the familiar smell of her rose perfume fills your nose, “I’ve missed you too momma.” 

“Jongseong, come over here too!” your mother waved your brother over, pulling the both of you into a tight hug, “It’s been so long since I have had both my children home. I’m so happy you’re here:” 

Jake and the others smiled at you three.

Once your mother released you from her arms, Jay sat down across from Jake, leaving you a spot between him and your mother. 

Before sitting down you hugged your father and gave a wave to Heeseung and Sunghoon. 

“Good to see you back to the land of the living,” Heeseung teased, “We thought you’d died.” 

You roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny.” 

Jake took a moment to take in your new outfit. Hair was nicely brushed, tight skinny jeans with rips at the knees, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that hugged your torso snug, perfectly shaping your breasts. His eyes not leaving you until you sit down, and then his eyes go to his plate of food. 

Jay glances at his best friend, eyes shifting to you, then back at him.

“We can finally eat now that Y/N decided to grace us with her presence,” Jake teased, finally digging into his food. God he was blessed to have Jay as one of his best friends. 

You reached under the table and kicked Jake’s shin, him only laughing more than before. 

“Just like old times! You kids never change!” your father smiled, lifting his beer for a cheer. 

—

Jake tossed and turned, eventually ending up on his back staring up at the ceiling. 

The thoughts of the outfit you wore earlier tainted his mind. The way your clothes perfectly shaped your body. 

Jake quietly covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes in hopes it would take the thoughts out of his head. “She’s your best friend's younger sister, what are you doing?” 

He sat up in bed, throwing the blankets off him, and carefully crawled out from the bottom bunk of the bed, trying to not make too much movement to disturb the sleeping Sunghoon above him. 

Heeseung was fast asleep on the twin-sized bed across from him, small snores escaping his lips. 

Jake took one last look around the room before carefully tip-toeing out. 

Jake remembers when Jay announced to them that his parents were buying a bunk bed to add into the spare room so that each of them had a proper place to sleep besides sharing the twin-sized bed or having an air mattress. 

Mostly after the four of them got into middle school, no one wanted to share a bed anymore. 

It was a blessing, even more of a blessing that the Park’s kept the spare room just the same after all these years. 

Jake opened and closed the door with such grace praying to be quiet enough to not wake anyone. Carefully walking down the hallway, stopping at the foot of the stairs, swearing he heard something, looking up them. 

The moonlight gave enough light to show how empty the upstairs was, Jake shrugged off the noise he heard and went to the kitchen. 

You quietly opened your door, making sure to not disturb any sleeping body, specifically your parents since they needed to be up early for another full day of work. 

The nap you took earlier in the day completely messed up your night's rest. You tossed and turned in your bed hoping for sleep to find you but never did. Hoping for a few bites of the leftover barbecue and some water will help you chase the sheep. 

You tip-toed to the stairs, carefully and slowly making your way down them, eyeing down the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen, making sure no one else was awake. 

You turned the corner of the kitchen, fingers flipping the light switch on. Once the lights came on, your heart nearly dropped to your stomach. 

You swore you jumped ten feet in the air, “Oh sweet god, what the fuck Jake?!?” you whispered loudly. 

What the fuck indeed. 

Jake was pressed against the counter, the water bottle he once held in his hand was now on the floor and the liquid completely covered him. 

He took a few deep breaths, hand clenching his now wet shirt, feeling his heartbeat. 

“You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” 

You raised a brow at him, “I scared you? I nearly had a heart attack!” 

Jake relaxed against the counter, his hands now gripping the counter behind him, “That makes two of us.” 

You ran your hands down your face, taking a deep breath in, before dropping your arms back at your side, “Why are you even up?” 

Jake’s face was glued to you, his eyes turning dark. 

You just looked at him, “What?” It wasn’t until you crossed your arms that you realized what he was staring at. 

You remembered what you were wearing. Sweatpants that hung loosely at your hips and a black sports bra. 

Jake didn’t notice it at first, mostly not after the surprise of you scaring him half to death, but after he finally looked at you is when he noticed. 

The way your breasts were exposed and practically spilling out of the top of your sports bra, how loosely your sweatpants hang. Oh, the thoughts running through his head. 

The way all he would have to do is barely slip his fingers at the fabric of your pants to remove them from your hips. The access his lips would have to your tits as he slid his against your heat. 

Jake didn’t even realize how hard he was staring at you, looking like a meal he could easily eat up. 

Normally you’d run out of the kitchen and back up the stairs full of embarrassment, but something about the way Jake was looking at you made your knees weak. 

Your body moved on its own, walking closer to him. His hands gripped the counter, knuckles turning white and his heart rate accelerating. It wasn’t until you were a couple of inches away from him that he realized what was happening. 

You could easily see the tint in his shorts growing. All it took for him to see you like this to get so hard?

Jake watched as your eyes dropped to his crotch, and slowly made eye contact with him. 

Oh how hard it was for him to keep his hands to himself. 

“Jake,” you whispered. You, yourself, want to put your hands on him. 

From the moment you saw him, Sunghoon, and Heeseung in the living room earlier this afternoon, you’ve had to admit you were attracted to them, especially Jake. He was no longer the icky boy you grew up with. He’s a man, looking at you like a woman, not the little girl you once were. 

You whisper his name again, moving your hand to touch his bicep, but stopping halfway. 

“Y/N, touch me and I can’t promise to behave myself.” His Aussie came out thicker in that moment, filled with lust and want. 

You wanted to test his boundaries and see if he would actually misbehave. 

Your cold fingers brushed his bicep, and that’s all it took for his hands to fly to your hips, switching positions and pinning you against the counter, his hard length now pressed to your aching core, hands gripping your hips. 

Jake felt as if he was on autopilot, moving against you as if it were second nature to him. 

Jake’s mind has been going wild since the moment you walked through the front door. 

He wasn’t expecting the woman he had pressed to his body. 

Jake was still expecting the little girl he used to tease. The little girl he would gang up on with his friends. The little girl he would scrunch his nose at when he’d see you in the halls at school as you’d pass by him. The little girl Jay would rant about if another boy looked at you in a romantic way. The little nerdy girl who got straight A’s and never skipped a day of school in your life even if you were sick. 

Jake never expected to see you so grown. To see how your body changed and filled in. The way you style your hair and the taste of fashion you have now. How your tits naturally fall and how your ass fits so perfectly in any pants you’ve worn today. 

Oh, Jake was a mess. And oh how badly he wanted to make a mess out of you. 

You kept your eyes locked with Jake’s, honestly loving how seen you felt by him right now. 

“Thought you were going to behave?” you whispered, your hands now gripping the counter behind you. 

“I told you the consequences of your actions if you’d touch me, and here we are.” 

You let a small laugh leave your lips, rolling your hips against him. 

Jake groaned, resting his forehead against yours, grinding himself back onto you, “What are you trying to do here, Y/N?” 

You bit your lips, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your mouth from the pleasure of his dick just rubbing against you. 

“Are you trying to get me in trouble with your brother? Huh?” Jake whispered, dropping his head to the side of yours, lips brushing against your ear, rolling his hips a bit harder than the last, “He’s already on my ass from the way I’ve been eye fucking you today.” 

Your knees buckled, Jake not letting your weight drop with the grip he has on your hips. 

“You’re being such a bad girl right now, Y/N, disobeying your brother's wishes so easily just to get a feel of my dick.”

Your brain was going fuzzy at his words, trying to focus on the sound of his breathing to keep you in reality. 

Jake’s hands drop down to your ass, squeezing the fat as he thrust his hips against you. Your breath hitched at his touch, knees buckling again. 

You wanted to feel his hands everywhere, to feel his lips on yours and against your skin. 

You turn your head towards him, wanting to find his lips, only to be met with his hands leaving your ass, body no longer pressed against yours and him taking a couple of steps away from you. 

Jake’s chest raised and fell with each deep breath he took, eyes glued to the floor as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. 

“We can’t be doing this,” he finally said between deep breaths.

No matter how badly Jake wanted to lead you up those stairs and push you face down into your pillows, he couldn’t betray his best friend like that. Couldn’t betray that trust. 

You nodded in agreement, taking your own deep breaths to steady out your heart rate, “You’re right, we can’t be.” 

You relaxed your body, pushing yourself off the counter, eyes darting to the fridge. 

You grabbed a water bottle, walking past Jake as you exited the kitchen, stopping right past him. 

“Jake,” you whispered, looking back at him. Jake stared back at you with lustful eyes, praying you’d jump his bones right here, right now, “Make sure you pick up that bottle and clean any water that got anywhere, mom will kill you if you don’t clean your mess.” 

And with that, you left him alone in the kitchen. 

Jake didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he heard your footsteps going up the stairs. He quickly cleaned up the spill and threw away the bottle.

Jake made his way back to the hallway, stopping at the door of the spare room, and seeing the bulge in his shorts. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes going straight to the bathroom door. 

He locked himself in, pulling his shirt over his head and to the floor, quickly dropping his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. 

His cock pulsating and red, precum leaking from the tip. 

Jake took himself into his hand, pumping himself slowly. Head leaning back against the wall, mouth slightly open. 

Jake stared at himself in the mirror, watching as stroked himself, hand picking up speed. 

His hand wasn’t enough, and as guilty as he already felt, he imagined his hand was yours. Imagine how your hand would be wrapped around his thick cock, thumb spreading his precum around the tip. He imagined how it’d feel to how your lips on his neck, kissing down his chest and torso until your lips wrapped around his cock, tongue licking up and down his shaft. 

Jake had to bite down on his lips to keep his moans quiet, whining at the sensation of the twitch his dick made, so close to release. 

He whispered, “I’m cumming Y/N…I’m cum-“ 

Before he could finish his words, his cum was dripping down his hand. 

Jake slowed his hand movement, chasing his high. 

He looked down at his mess, taking deep breaths and relaxing against the wall. 

“Fuck…oh fuck…” 

Jake knew thinking of you while he got himself off would only make this sexual frustration worse. How was he going to survive the next two weeks? He barely survived the first day. 

—

If you weren’t awkward around Jake before, you sure are now. 

You barely slept at all last night because of the hard-boiled embarrassment you felt. 

You came onto your older brother's best friend?! What were you even thinking? You can already see how pissed off Jay would be if he found out what happened last night. 

You knew what happened was just a one-time thing. Some weird thing that happened because of your choices. 

But the way Jake looked at you…how his eyes spoke for him…it clouded your mind. 

When you walked into the kitchen that morning, Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table yelling and pushing each other while your brother stood at the stove flipping pancakes. 

Jay was the first to notice you, “Aye, good morning stinks.” 

Three other pairs of eyes fell onto you, feeling Jake’s gaze specifically. 

You walked to your brother, taking a glance at the pancakes, “When will they be ready?” Your mouth was practically watering just by looking at them. Maybe it was a good idea to come back home, all for Jay’s cooking. 

“Soon, go sit down with everyone else, impatient.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms, “How can I not be impatient when I don’t get to have your cooking anymore?” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Maybe if you came home more often-“

“Okay, whatever corn lover.” You scoff, “You win.” 

Jay chuckled at his victory, telling you once again to sit down. 

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, eyes landing back at the spot Jake had you pressed against just the night before. 

Jake took notice of your stare on the spot. Covering his mouth with his fingers, eyes staring down at your legs and how your ass is barely covered by your shorts. 

It’s like you were trying to tempt him. 

Sunghoon also noticed your stare at the counter, raising a brow in concern, “You good over there Y/N?” 

The thoughts of last night faded from your mind as you turned around to face him, smiling with a “Mmhmm! Just lost in thought!” 

Oh, Jake couldn’t help but tease you, “What’s up with that spot to get so lost in thought about?” 

He did not. 

You narrow your eyes at him, the shit-eating grin that spread across his face pissed you off. 

While the others giggled and went back to their normal business, you kept your eyes on Jake. Fully watching as his eyes traveled down your body. 

If he wants to play games, you’ll play back. 

You walked back over to Jay, leaning yourself onto the counter, knowing full well your shorts will ride up, showing off your ass cheeks. 

Jake clenched his fist in his lap, biting down on his fingers at his mouth, feeling his dick start to harden. 

The way your shorts lifted to show the small amount of fat from your ass, basically showing off to Jake that you were either wearing a thong or…nothing at all underneath. 

You slightly shifted your weight between your legs, the small jiggle of your ass made him clench his fist tighter, having to completely cover his arm over his bulge. 

Jake knew he couldn’t get up and walk out of the kitchen, not with his raging boner on full display. Everyone would clown him. 

This was the consequence of pushing his luck. Now he’s got to suffer with it. 

You turned your head back to look at him, seeing the way he twitched in his seat and how his jaw was clenched tightly. The look he was giving you, the same hungry look from last night, but worse. 

It was enough to dampen your shorts. 

Jake knew he had to turn the situation around, to drop it entirely, “Hey Jay!” 

You quickly twisted yourself around, looping your fingers at the back of your shorts to pull them down, seeing the smug look that now played on Jake’s face. 

It was a powerful move to get your brother's attention, knowing Jay would turn around along with Sunghoon and Heeseung's attention being brought in this direction. 

Checkmate. 

—

You nearly jumped for joy when you found out all the boys would be leaving the house for the day to see their families, Jay going along with them. 

You decided since now the house was empty and you’d be alone means the massive TV in the living room finally being free. 

You pulled Netflix on the TV and skipped your way into the kitchen, pushing a bag of popcorn into the microwave, watching the timer go down as you grabbed a bowl for the popcorn, fingers barely holding the bag to drop them into the bowl. 

You dropped onto the couch, popping the corn into your mouth, free hand searching for something to watch. 

There was a show your best friend from college told you about not too long ago, but you couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of it. 

You looked on the coffee table, searched the couch, and couldn’t find your phone anywhere. 

“Where could it be…” 

You set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, rushing upstairs into your room, and finding the device sitting on your bed. You snatched it up quickly, shooting your friend a quick text as you made your way back down the stairs, the sound of the spare bathroom door opening nearly sent your soul into orbit. 

You found yourself standing across the hall from Jake, him shooting the same confused look back at you. 

“What?” he raised a brow, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You pointed a finger at him, “Why aren’t you with the boys?” 

Jake got more confused, “Why would I be?” 

“Don’t you need to see your family? Ya know while you’re back home?” you retort.

Jake chuckled, “Honey, how can I visit my family if they’re on vacation in Australia?”

You…didn’t think of that. You just assumed his family would be here in town too. 

You fidgeted with your shorts, suddenly embarrassed for thinking you’d be home alone. 

Jake looked down at your legs, the thoughts from earlier in the morning coming back to his head. 

You caught him looking, a smirk playing on your face, “You sure have a staring problem, Sim Jaeyun.” 

His eyes whipped up to yours, the corners of his lips curving, “You really want to play this game right now, Park Y/N? When there’s no one else here?” 

You came back to the realization that the two of you were alone. 

Jake walked over to you, arms stretched out at his sides, corning you between himself and the railing of the staircase. 

Jake knew this was wrong, but the stunt you pulled this morning had him taking a thirty-minute shower after breakfast just to beat himself off to release that tension. 

“I’m asking you this again, what are you trying to pull, Y/N?” 

You were at a loss for words because you weren’t sure what you were trying to pull. You want to respect your brother's “off limits” wishes towards his friends, but god damn at the same time, you were so attracted to Jake. 

He has always been a good-looking kid, you always found him so adorable, but once middle and high school came around and he started to finally fill into his body properly, the more attractive he became and the girls around school knew it too. The last time you saw him was his high school graduation, and boy did those years make him one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. 

“Turning me on in front of my friends and your brother? So dirty.” 

You clenched your thighs together, trying to hide the arousal you were feeling, except nothing could get past Jake. 

“You want me,” he whispered with a smirk, leaning his body closer to yours, “You want me so bad.” 

Jake had to admit seeing you like this was such a turn-on. The way he’s got you clenching your thighs and hasn't even laid a hand on you. 

God he wanted to touch you again, have your body pressed close against his, feeling your tits squish to his chest and hands grasping your ass. 

Him being alone in this house with you was dangerous. 

Day two and still basically a full two weeks left to go. 

But he can’t fold, no matter what. 

You saw how quickly Jake’s face changed, how the lust left his eyes and was replaced with the soft puppy dog eyes he normally has. 

And you knew why. 

Jay. 

“Maybe we need to stay clear from each other,” you said, slipping under his arm and up a few steps on the stairs, “Like you said last night, we can’t be doing this.” 

Jake knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, once these two weeks are over and he goes back to college, things will go back to normal, right? No thoughts of his best friend's little sister fucking him into oblivion. 

He nodded, pushing himself off the stairs, “But unfortunately we can’t completely ignore each other, that’ll be more suspicious than anything.” 

“Right,” you knew the moment your brother caught onto the two of you ignoring each other he’d known something was up. Thankfully for you, nothing has really happened between you and Jake, just some dry humping, dirty talk on Jake’s end, and him grabbing your ass in the kitchen on top of you teasing him this morning. No big deal! “We just need to act like how we used to do, like when we were kids.” 

Jake softly smiled at you, “That’ll be an easy thing to do, right, stinks?” 

You rolled your eyes and stomped up the stairs, “I’m so sick of that name.” 

Jake couldn’t hold back his laugh, seeing the popcorn bowl you left on the table, “I’m stealing your popcorn!” he yelled, shoving some of the buttery goodness into his mouth. But the only response he got was the sound of your door slamming. 

—

What Jake thought would be easy ended up being the hardest thing. 

He couldn’t look at you without the thought of laying face first into your bed running across his mind. 

Talking to you was a small challenge in itself. Mostly because Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were always right there. Jake felt like their eyes were secretly judging him, watching his every move when probably in reality there was nothing but elevator music going on in their heads the entire time. But he still couldn’t help but feel like an ant under a microscope and had to watch how he looked at you or spoke to you. 

The four of them grew up teasing you, calling you silly names, spitting their watermelon speeds at you during the hot summers while you all played outside, and even when they would throw snow at you when you five would play outside in the cold. You were really like a little sister to them, basically family. So why was staying clear from you so hard? It was easy as kids. What was so different now besides how grown up you were now?

It was now Monday, four days into the small vacation at your parents and still all this week and a full week after that to be here. The last couple of days have been…somewhat of a struggle for you and Jake. 

You acted normal when everyone was around, but still couldn’t help but steal glances at Jake, sometimes already catching him looking at you. 

After that day you were both alone, you stayed in your room at night, already having some snacks and water up on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to carefully sneak yourself back downstairs and run into Jake again. 

There’s only been a few times where walking past him was a challenge, mostly in the living room trying to find a seat to sit down or in the kitchen when everyone is putting food on their plates at dinner time. 

Small touches of your hands grazing from reaching for cups or when you walk past each other in the crowded kitchen and living room. Nothing too big that anyone would really notice…or so you hoped. 

Jay nudged your shoulder with his, “What’s up Stink?” 

You looked up at your brother, “Huh?” 

Jay raised a brow at you, “Y/N, you’ve been twirling your spoon around your cereal for like five minutes now.”

You thinned your lips into a line, looking back down at your cereal that is more than likely soggy now, “I was, wasn’t I?” 

You dropped the spoon in the bowl, excusing yourself from the breakfast table and walking the bowl to the sink.

Jay crossed his arms and slid back into his chair, “You not going to tell me what is going on?” 

Your heart dropped, does he know? Does he know you and Jake have been acting not completely normal? 

“I’m just really tired today is all,” you decided to play it off, hoping your worst fear wasn’t happening. Dumping out your wasted cereal and washing the bowl and spoon, “I also didn’t sleep much last night, could hear your snoring from next door.” 

Jay, who now appeared at your side, chuckled, taking the bowl from your hands and a towel from the cabinet, “Was I really snoring that loud last night? I was exhausted. Heeseung spam called me saying they all could hear it from the guest room downstairs.” 

Score! He doesn’t know. 

You watched as he placed the now clean bowl back into its home in the cabinet and placed the towel over the rack to dry, “Damn, even Heeseung heard it? How is your throat not dry as hell?” 

Jay flicked his finger against your forehead, laughing as you winced and one hand went to your head while the other balled into a fist and reached across to punch your brother in the chest. 

His bright smile was enough to completely change your mood, taking whatever negative energy that was balling up to release and escape back to wherever it came from. Jay always had this effect on you, it was one of his best sibling traits. 

But that didn’t stop you from still trying to square up with him. 

And you failed…horribly. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked into the kitchen at the perfect time for Jay to put you into a headlock between his biceps, “Say you're sorry,” he said in a teasing tone, “And I’ll let you go.” 

Even with the laughing fit you were in, you still didn’t give up. Hands gripping his arms in attempts to get yourself free, “Never!” You chanted, “You snore like an old man!” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon shared glances before walking around the two of you wrestling to grab their own bowls of cereal and sitting at the table. 

Jake was the last to pile into the kitchen, stopping abruptly at the fight in the kitchen. 

“Just walk around them,” Sunghoon mentioned, “We did.” 

Jake carefully walked around the two of you who now sat on the floor. 

You had your arms and legs wrapped around your brother, his back to your chest. But he had your back pressed against the island, his shoes digging into the floor to help him use all his weight towards his chest to keep you against the island. 

Jake carefully made his way to the table, sitting down beside his other two friends, “Have they been fighting long?” Jake asked, too scared to even prepare himself his own bowl of sugar. 

Heeseung shrugged, “We found them like this when we got here.” 

Sunghoon groaned, “Should we break it up now? Probably been going on for long enough.” 

“Hey!” Heeseung shouted. You and Jay stop wiggling around, eyes now set on the table at the three friends staring back at you, “Some of us would like to eat our breakfast in peace.” 

“That sucks,” you joked, tightening your grip on your brother. Jay pushing his weight back onto you. 

While Heeseung and Sunghoon seemed to completely discard the two siblings, Jake couldn’t help but smile fondly at you two. 

He dropped his jaw into his palm, his smile only growing wider. This moment felt like old times when you were all children. 

But that happy feeling soon faded and was replaced with fear when your mother walked into the kitchen. Jake never sat up straight so fast. Even Heeseung and Sunghoon stopped slouching. 

“Park Jongseong! Park Y/N! What are you doing?!” 

You and Jay got up from the floor, standing side by side in front of your mother. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Jay quickly asked with his, sorry for wrestling my baby sister on your clean kitchen floor mom, it won’t happen again, awkward smile. 

Your mother placed her hands on her hips, “Am I not allowed to have a day off from work?” 

Heeseung scooted his chair closer to the table, leaning against it in a way to get as close as possible to the conversation, him eating his cereal as if it were popcorn, and you guys were the movie. 

Sunghoon followed Heeseung, him pulling at Jake’s hoodie to pull him close too. 

“I think what Jay means mom, is that we weren’t expecting you to have the day off.” You elbowed your brother's ribs, a small oof leaving his lips from the pain. 

Your mother relaxed, looking between the two of you, “Your father has a company party tonight up at that new fancy hotel a couple of towns over, we are leaving now to get there at a decent time. We are packing as we speak.” 

“Wait, you're not coming home tonight?” Jay asked with a hint of shenanigans in his tone. 

Oh boy…

She shook her head, “The party is ending too late, so we are staying at the hotel and coming home tomorrow morning.” 

Jay didn’t even hide the fact that he had some kind of bullshit cooking up in his head as he turned and faced his friends, a smirk forming. 

You leaned back, glancing at his friends, trying to decipher whatever secret language they were using to communicate with their eyes.

Before your mother could protest whatever shenanigans your brother was planning, your father stumbled into the kitchen. 

“Boys, I need your help. The mail just came.” your father said, pointing his index finger at each of the three boys one by one, “It’s a big one.” 

“Are we building something, Mr. Park?” Heeseung asked, already standing up from the table. 

Your father nodded with a big smile, “We bought a hot tub for the back porch.” 

—

You sat at the picnic table, cold hands shoving into your hoodie pocket, watching as the three boys hovered around Sunghoon who held the directions to the hot tub. 

“When your dad said he got a hot tub that he needed help setting up, I thought he meant he was going to be a part of helping…” Jake sighed, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

Jay also sighed, “Yeah, trust me. He put his whole faith into us with this one. Not to mention one person is just watching while we struggle.” 

The three boys looked at you. You sat up straighter, smiling at them, and waved, “Dad never told me to help.” 

Each of them glared at you before going back to the instruction booklet. 

You were surprised your parents even bought the hot tub. Mostly since it would only be the two of them using it up until the spring came when it got too hot for it. Plus you and the boys would only be able to use it while you were visiting. But it’s their money, not yours. They can do what they please. 

“Wait,” Heeseung said, picking up one of the hard plastic pieces, “I figured it out.” 

The boys, sooner than later, had the hot tub built. It was a beautiful oak brown wood color with six seats and came with massaging capabilities with cool lights at the bottom for when it was dark out. It was small, and everyone’s legs would get all tangled up, but beautiful nevertheless. 

The next step was setting up the pumps. Which racked the boy's brains too hard, causing them to sit at the picnic table with you. 

“My brain hurts,” Heeseung said rubbing his temples, “I need a break.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up quickly, he sat up on the bench, hands slapping onto the table, “Tell us your plan, Jay!” 

Jake’s attention also drew in, curious as well, “Yeah what’s the plan?” 

Heeseung looked up at his friends, also waiting. 

You looked at your brother, “Are you talking about whatever hidden language you three stooges had while in the kitchen earlier?” 

“How dare you compare us to the three stooges!” Sunghoon snapped, reaching over to flick your forehead, but you were too quick, swatting his hand away. 

“Can’t tell me I am wrong?” you retort, “Anyways, spill the beans.” 

Jay looked between his two friends, “Might as well tell her,” Jake shrugged, “She’s already onto us.” 

You shook your brother’s shoulder, “SPILL!” 

“Party,” he sighed, shrugging you off, “We are going out tonight.” 

You raised a brow, switching glances between the three idiots, “And you were trying to keep that a secret…why?”

“We couldn’t go to parties when we lived here?” Jay sassed. 

“That didn’t stop you from sneaking out your window and jumping into Heeseung’s car?” you threw back, “You’re adults now, you think our parents can stop you?” 

Jake released a giggle, “Your mother actually called Jay on the drive here telling him no drinking while we are here.” 

You shrugged, your mother was always against drinking and going to parties. It’s what caused Jay and yourself to sneak out half of your high school lives. Your dad caught Jay sneaking in through the front door once and that’s all it took for him to start using his bedroom window and bribing you to keep your mouth shut until the first time you snuck out and couldn’t get back inside due to your window closing while you were out having no choice but to call him to let you inside. 

“Anyways, yeah we are going out to a club, possibly bar hop. Just depends.” Jay shrugged it off as if it were no big deal. 

“Cool, when are we leaving?” You asked, fully invested in going. 

Jay scoffed, “Who said you can come?” 

You scrunch your nose at your brother, “I am an adult, if you tell me no I could always drive myself and follow you guys.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “She’s got a point, might as well let her come.”

You gave your brother a smug look, “See?”

“Fine, jeez!” he groaned. 

“Plus, maybe you’ll get lucky and someone else can take me off your hands.” you wiggled your eyebrows, hoping they picked up what you were putting down. 

Jake was the first one that pick it up. Chills being sent down his body. Eyes darting between you and Jay, then it finally clicked in his head. 

“No!” Jay snapped, “Not happening, keeping you in my sight.” 

You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well once you all get to the club or bar and get some alcohol in your system Jay can’t stop anything. 

Heeseung slapped his hands on the table, “Anyways, enough of that! Let’s get these pumps on the hot tub working so we can get ready to leave, there’s five of us that have to get ready and lord knows we will need that time.” 

Sure enough, the boys got the hot tub up and running smoothly in no time. 

—

“Wear the fucking jacket Y/N!” Jay snapped, yelling over the loud music from the club, shoving his jacket in your face.

“I said no!” you snapped back at your brother, shoving his jacket out of the way. 

“Dude,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, “did you not notice her outfit when we got in the car?!” 

Jay sent daggers shooting at the older, “I was in the driver's seat dumbass! We were running late on leaving!” 

You crossed your arms, looking down at your outfit. It wasn’t even bad? You had on your favorite faded blue ripped skinny jeans with fishnet tights underneath. You had on a long-sleeved crop top that was just above your belly button and in a v-neck style, shoving off your breasts, and your long hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. 

“Besides, it looks like a completely normal outfit!” Jay once again tried shoving the jacket at you. 

“Dude!” you pushed his hands away once again, “There isn’t anything wrong with my outfit!” 

Jay looked at each of his friends to help convince you, his eyes landing on Jake last. Jake just shrugged his shoulders, “Your sister man.” 

Jake on the one hand had no problem with your outfit, it was cute, it was sexy, and it showed off all your curves, not to mention it made your tits and ass look GREAT. On the other hand, he can see Jay’s frustration. The moment any of the guys would take their eyes off you, another man would make his move. 

“Jesus Christ I’m ordering us shots I can’t take this bickering,” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes as he pushed past everyone making his way to the bar. 

Jay pleaded with you with his eyes, “Y/N.” 

“Jongseong.” 

Sunghoon returned quickly with five shots, handing everyone theirs, “Let’s get fucked up tonight!” 

“Amen to that brother!” Heeseung shouted, “CHEERS!” 

Everyone clacked the shot glasses together and then drank down the shot. 

It’s been a while since you drank last, already making a promise to yourself to not go overboard. 

Sunghoon collected the glasses and set them on the table next to you all. 

Jay wouldn’t take his eyes off you and you shot darts into his soul. 

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes looking away from you for a second, his mouth hanging open at whatever sight he saw behind you. 

You raised a brow, turning behind you to see what he was staring at, “Wow, and you want ME to cover up?” 

Granted, the female your brother was going heart eye for was beautiful, she just happened to be showing off a lot more skin than you. She had a matching black crop top and skirt with black boots. It was a cute outfit, no wonder it got Jay’s attention. 

She was also staring back at your brother, even giving him a little wave. 

“Oh shit man,” Sunghoon nudged his arm, “Go get her.” 

Jay ran a hand through his dyed hair, walking in her direction, “Put this on, I’ll be right back,” he dropped the jacket on the top of your head and disappeared into the crowd towards the female. 

You pulled the jacket off you, dropping it down onto the table, “I need more alcohol.” 

You walked away from the boys, only for the three of them to follow directly behind you to the counter of the bar, “Don’t you guys have girls to be going after?” 

Heeseung chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders while he leaned against the counter, “We came here to drink, Y/N, and that’s exactly what we are doing.” 

You pulled Heeseung off you, “Can’t you do that somewhere else?” 

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, “You trying to get rid of us?” he gave you his famous smirk, and oh man did you want to punch him. 

“Duh?” you said matter of fact, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Yeah, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said, slinging his arm back around you, “She wants to get laid tonight, she can’t be seen with three other guys hovering around her.” 

Jake didn’t like this conversation nor did he want to hear it. In hopes of changing the vibes, he called the bartender over. “Can we get a couple of rounds of shots please?”

The bartender nodded, “Coming right up!” 

You once again removed Heeseung from you, getting more irritated by the second. You didn’t know what was more annoying, your brother, or his friends. 

The eight shots were placed in front of you all, everyone taking one into their hands.

“Cheers!” Jake calmly said, once again clacking the glasses together before slurping down the liquid. 

You set the glass down and then dropped your head into your hand, this wasn’t how you wanted the night to go. You expected to drink with the boys, yeah, but you weren’t expecting them to be up your ass. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Heeseung asked, pointing a finger down the bar. 

Everyone shifted their gaze looking in the direction Heeseung was pointing at. 

“No way!” you gasped, leaning your head more into your hand, “Is that Choi Yeonjun?!” 

As if hearing his name being called from across the bar, he turned and faced your direction, his eyes wandering between the four of you. He gave a small wave, his eyes lingering on you. Way too long for Jake’s liking. 

The more shots Jake ordered, and the more the liquid courage went down your throat, the more you wanted to walk over to Yeonjun. 

“Are you going to keep giving him heart eyes or are you gonna actually go talk to him?” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes, taking another shot down. 

You tucked your lip between your teeth, slightly pulling at your ponytail while making eye contact with Yeonjun, him giving you a few winks and his own lip bite to flirt back. 

It was driving Jake up a wall. 

“Should I?” you asked, “Haven’t seen him since he graduated a few years before you guys.” 

Yeonjun used to be in band class along with the boys and even lived the next street over from you and Jay before he moved away after graduation. He wasn’t close with the boys since he had his friend group, but they all hung out a few times from what you could remember. 

“Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t,” Jake said, taking a small step closer to you as he eyed Yeonjun. 

“Why not?” you stood from the bar, causing Jake to bring his eyes back to you. You adjusted your shirt, pulling it slightly down to reveal your tits a bit more. 

Jake clenched his jaw at the sight, seeing how your tits slightly jiggled from you adjusting your shirt, and the fact Yeonjun was about to see it up close and personal wasn’t sitting right with him. 

“How do I look?” you asked, turning and looking at each of them for their opinions. 

“You look hot, now go talk to him before some other girl beats you to it!” Heeseung said, quickly pushing you away from them, which gave you no other choice but to walk over to him. 

Once you were far enough away, Jake glared at Heeseung. 

“Dude what?” he scoffed, “She came here for this reason. Jay ain’t even around, relax.” 

That’s not the point.

“Come on, let’s go back to the table, I’m tired of standing,” Sunghoon said, collecting the leftover full shots, “Hee, Jake, order us some beer or something.” 

“Well, hello there,” Yeonjun said, pulling you into a hug, “It’s been what? three-four years?” 

You nodded into his shoulder, “It’s really been a while hasn’t it?” 

Yeonjun sat back on his bar stool, pulling the one beside him out, “Please sit.” 

Now that you are closer to him, you can see how grown-up he has gotten. Damn, what is with everyone you knew getting hit with puberty like a fucking truck? 

“Are you still friends with Soobin, Beomgyu Taehyun, and…?” 

“Huening kai?” he smiled, “Of course!” he glances around the club then looks back at you, “They are around here somewhere.” 

You came over here specifically to flirt and hopefully get dragged out of this club by him, yet you’ve found yourself at a loss for words. He’s too beautiful and sexy with how he smiles, it’s throwing you for a loop. Plus you barely knew him back in school, only the basics really. 

Yeonjun leans closer to you, placing his hand on your forearm, thumb rubbing circles, “How is your brother?” he asked, glancing behind you, “I saw you are here with Lee, Sim, and the other Park.” 

You sighed, “Jay is around here somewhere,” you said, taking a quick look around the club, just to find your eyes back on Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun sucked on his bottom lip as he stared you up and down, his eyes always landing back down onto your tits. 

Yeonjun remembers perfectly well how overprotective Jay was over his sister, so if Yeonjun wanted to get you out of your clothes, he needed to act fast before Jay caught eyes on the two of you. 

Yeonjun was so attracted to you right now. He found you cute back in school, but damn did you grow up to be such a fine woman. And with the way your friends were eyeballing him, he knew they too found you just as sexy, making him need to act even faster before one of them decided to ruin everything. 

Jake took notice of how Yeonjun was eye fucking you without a care in the world. His hand was on your arm as you two talked. Oh, it was setting him off. 

“Damn,” Heeseung said, putting his beer bottle to his lips, “You’re going to burn a hole in the guy if you keep staring at him like that.”

“Are we just going to let him touch her like that?” Jake spat out, taking his eyes off Yeonjun to look at his friends, “You both are staring at them too!!”

Sunghoon shrugged, “I am only watching to see if he can actually bag her.” 

“Dude,” Heeseung quickly said, “One hundred bucks that he fucks up somehow.” 

Jake furrowed his eyes, “What the actual fuck?” 

“What?” Sunghoon snapped, “You’re acting like Jay right now. What is up with the two of you? Huh?” 

Jake didn’t know how to answer that. He can’t tell them the sexual frustration he’s been feeling knowing one of them will let it slip to Jay either by accident or purposely.

“I am just worried about her, that's all,” Jake said, looking back over to you. 

In the time Jake had his eyes off you, Yeonjun had his stool pulled closer to you, his legs found their way between yours, his knees touching yours and hand resting on your thigh, his fingers slowly slipping between the tears of your jeans. 

Jake’s jaw locked, his hands forming into fists. 

“Jake,” Heeseung said calmly, noticing his friend's behavior, “Let’s think smart about this, ya?” 

“She is basically our family and you’re just going to stand by and let some random dude touch her like that?!” Jake snapped. 

“Jake, he isn’t some random dude, we went to school with him,” Heeseung tried to play damage control, but it wasn’t working. 

“He also had a reputation for the females he pulled into his bed!” Jake spat. 

Sunghoon let out a whistle and with a tilt of his head said, “You’re so into her.” 

Jake whipped his head around, “Would you let Yeji be in Y/N position right now?” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Fuck no! She wouldn’t be anywhere near here!” 

“Then what’s the difference of letting the girl we grew up with be in that position right now?” 

Heeseung sighed, “Jake, what is really going on with you? You’d never bat an eye at her before.” 

I want her all to myself. Don’t want another man touching her. 

Jake looked away from his friends. Heeseung was right, he’d never thought twice about you before now, he should be supporting your choices to get laid. 

Except he wasn’t. 

Yeonjun’s hand completely slipped between the tear of your jeans, squeezing your thigh as he continued to eye fuck the shit out of you. 

And that’s all it took. 

Jake shot from the chair, his brain on autopilot. 

“JAKE!!” Both his friends called after him. Jake ignored them. 

Jake approached the two of you quickly, Yeonjun locked eyes with Jake and slid his hand out of your jeans with a disgusted look on his face clearly showing his irritation towards Jake. 

“Hey,” Jake said, his hand finding your lower back, his fingers twisting into your belt loop and slightly pulling, “Let’s go find your brother and leave, ya? We still have a few other places to check out.” 

Oh here we go, Yeonjun thought. 

“Wow, no hey Yeonjun! Long time no see! How ya been?” Yeonjun sassed, his thumb still making soft figure eights on your forearm. 

Jake burnt holes into him, “Sup, Choi, long time no see. How have you been? Cool. Bye.” 

“Jake!” you snapped at his rudeness. 

Jake’s hand found your waist, slightly pulling you again in an attempt to remove you from the stool. 

“I don’t think Y/N wants to leave,” Yeonjun glared at him.

Jake scoffed, reaching over to remove his hand from your arm, then completely wrapping around you, lifting you from the seat. 

Yeonjun clicked his tongue, “Is there a problem, Sim?” 

Jake chuckled, “Nah man,” he looked around behind Yeonjun, “Where is the rest of your rat pack huh?” 

“Jake!!” you snapped at him again. What the fuck was his problem? 

Yeonjun chuckled back, his tongue digging into the side of his cheek, standing up from the stool, “Why don’t you let miss pretty thing go and head back over to Mr. Ace and Ice Prince, ya?” 

Yeonjun reached for you, only for Jake to whip you behind him, “Don’t you fucking touch her.” 

“Come on man, trying to get my dick wet, stop gatekeeping her pussy for yourself.” 

Oh, man. 

“The fuck did you just say?!” Jake lost it, letting his grip on you go and stepping into Yeonjun’s face. 

This can’t be good, “Jake!” you gripped onto his arm, trying to yank him back, “Jake come on, let’s just go!” 

He wouldn’t budge, so you did the next best thing. Whipping your head around to find Heeseung and Sunghoon. Waving your hands to get their attention to look in your direction, eyes pleading with them. They got up immediately. 

“You heard me, Sim,” Yeonjun said, “I saw the way you’ve been staring her down all night.” 

Jake clicked his tongue, “Man, fuck off!” and Jake shoved him. 

Yeonjun shoved him back harder.  

Before Jake could swing, Heeseung wrapped his hands around Jake, “Woah woah woah!! Hoon get Y/N out of here!” Heeseung yelled as he fought to keep Jake still. 

Sunghoon wrapped his arm around your waist, trying to pull you away from the situation, “Y/N, let’s go please,” but you fought against him, “I need you safe! Please!” You stopped struggling against Sunghoon’s hold, slowly letting him back you away. 

“Jake, man listen to me,” Heeseung whipped himself in front of Jake, “Let’s just go okay? Think about Y/N, we need to get her somewhere safe, ya?” 

Jake took his eyes off Yeonjun and over to Heeseung, his body relaxing and nodding. The last thing he wants is to put you in danger or see him start a fight. 

Jake nodded, letting Heeseung push him back and turn him around. 

The moment Heeseung’s hands were off Jake and he was now at his side, Yeonjun scoffed, “Pussy shit.” 

Pussy shit?

Heeseung wasn’t fast enough to get ahold of Jake, because now his fists were balled and made contact with Yeonjun’s cheek. 

Yeonjun hunched to the side, his left hand touching the area Jake just punched him, only to quickly whip around and land a punch right on the corner of the left side of Jake’s mouth. 

“Find my brother!” You yelled, fighting against Sunghoon’s hold on you, “Find Jay!!” 

Heeseung ran into the crowd, pushing past the dancing bodies on the floor. 

Jake licked the blood that dripped down his lip, letting out an evil laugh before gripping Yeonjun’s collar of his shirt, Yeonjun took his fist full of Jake’s shirt and gave him a shove. 

“You’re fucking dead!” Jake spat, getting himself ready to throw another punch. 

Before the next moves could be made, Heeseung and Jay were at Jake’s side with Soobin and Taehyun at Yeonjun’s. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Jay yelled, pushing Yeonjun off his friend and then wrapping his hands around Jake’s biceps, Heeseung doing the same in hopes of holding him back. 

Soobin and Taehyun also hand their own death grips on their older. 

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?!” Jay snapped, eyes darting between him and Jun, “Fighting in a club? Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Sunghoon let you go to run to his friend's side, placing his hands on Jake’s shoulders to help pull him back. 

“Let’s fucking go!” Heeseung growled, “NOW!” 

You made your way over to Jake, eyes landing on the cut on his lip. You whipped your head back around and looked at Yeonjun, seeing the bruise already starting to form on his cheek. 

Much deserved. 

Jake’s hands found your waist as he pulled you to him, giving Yeonjun one last fuck you look as he backed away. Jay also places a hand on your back, giving Yeonjun a stare himself. 

Yeonjun chuckled, taking a step forward but his friends stopped him, “Yeah! Learn to get your dog and bitch of a sister under control!” 

Yeonjun was now on the floor on his knees, spitting blood onto the tile, and blood dripping from Jay’s fist. 

You quickly ran over to your brother, pulling him away, watching as Soobin and Taehyun pulled Yeonjun up. 

“Let’s just go hyung,” Taehyun said, “You’ve drank way too much tonight.” 

With a nod from Yeonjun, he let Taehyun pull him away, Beomgyu taking Soobin’s spot as he quickly apologized to us for Yeonjun then followed behind his four friends. 

Heeseung drove home while Sunghoon sat in the passenger seat. 

You sat between Jay and Jake, your hands examining your brothers, napkins, and a bag of ice you guys got from the bar laid onto his hand. 

“I can’t believe you punched him that hard,” you said, squeezing his wrist tightly. 

“I wasn’t going to let him talk about you and Jake like that,” your brother mumbled, “couldn’t let Jake get hit again either.” he teased

“Fuck man,” Jake said, leaning his head back and tilting it to look at Jay, “I had him!” 

Everyone laughed. 

“Oh!!” Heeseung finally spoke up, pointing a finger at Sunghoon, “You owe me one hundred dollars!!” 

“Huh?” Jay questioned. 

“They made a stupid ass bet,” Jake said, rolling his eyes, “Sunghoon lost.” 

“I wouldn’t have if someone didn’t storm off.” Sunghoon snapped, whipping around in the seat to look at Jake, earning a middle finger from Jake. 

“Wasn’t going to let him continue touching Y/N like that.” 

“Thank you,” Jay said, “For watching after my sister.” 

Jake nodded, “Someone had to.” 

You rolled your eyes and sent your elbow flying into his ribs. 

Turning your attention back to Jay, you shifted the ice and napkin up to take a look at the cuts on his hand, “It’ll be bruised for awhile, you hit him pretty hard.” 

Jay just nodded, eyes getting heavy. 

“Hey,” you tap his leg, “You okay?” 

Jay smiled with a laugh, “I’m so fucking hammered, surprised I sobered up enough to stop that fight.” 

You smiled sweetly at your brother, “Let’s get you to sleep once home.” 

—

After the night you had, all you wanted was to try out the hot tub. 

Once you and the guys got Jay into bed, you watched as they made their way into the spare room, the door closing. 

You did get into bed, but the jitters from the fight still haunted you. And what better way to get those jitters away than to try out the brand-new hot tub? 

You quickly changed into your dark blue bikini, slipping sweatpants and a sweatshirt over your body, and quickly but quietly made your way down the stairs, into the laundry closet to grab a towel and into the kitchen, carefully unlocking and sliding the glass door open and shut. 

Turning the hot tub and pulled the cover off and the lights lit up the porch, and watched the bubbles start to form. You dropped the towel onto the table and slid out of your sweats, the cold immediately touching your skin. 

You tied your hair back into a tight bun and quickly jumped over the steps and slid your body into the warmth. 

You released a soft ahhh as the water warmed your body. 

You laid your head back onto the pillow at your seat, closing your eyes and moving your arms back and forth. 

No wonder your parents wanted a hot tub, this shit was relaxing as hell. 

The sound of the sliding glass door opening scared you, making you quickly sit up and whip around. Your eyes nearly rolled out of your sockets from how hard you rolled them. 

“Hello to you too,” Jake said snarkly, “What are you even doing up?” 

You turned back around, “Can say the same about you.” 

Jake wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the hot tub, he wanted to be alone and get out of the spare room for a few hours. After tonight a relaxing time in the hot tub sounded amazing. 

He was probably the last person you wanted to be around, yet he also couldn’t help but feel happy knowing you were also here. 

“Am I allowed to get in or??” 

You looked back over at him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, that’s fine. You’re already out here.” 

The corner of Jake’s lips curled, dropping the towel next to yours. 

His hands found the ends of his sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his body. 

You felt your face flush. Feeling as if you just saw the work of a God. 

You knew he worked out, his whole physique was proof of that. But seeing shirtless was a whole new level. 

Your eyes wandered from his chest down to his abs. Yeah, he was sculpted by the gods. 

Jake looped his fingers in his sweatpants, giving a small smirk at you staring, “Staring problem?” 

You quickly made eye contact with him, then shifted yourself back around, “No.” 

He softly laughed, dropping his sweatpants to the ground and climbing into the hot tub. 

“I am so glad I brought my swimming shorts.” 

You watched as he sat across from you, his legs sliding down beside yours. 

“Did you just, randomly pack swimming shorts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Jake laid his arms out against the top of the tub, sinking himself lower in, “Yeah. Always have to be prepared.” 

You narrowed your eyes, “It’s the middle of winter.” 

Jake chuckled, “Heeseung’s family has a heated pool. Figured we would go use it at some point during this trip.” 

All you could do was nod. You’ve only ever been to the Lee household during birthday parties for Heeseung as kids. Guess the heated pool came around after you stopped hanging around them. 

Everything went silent. It was awkward, both of you knew that. You both went from staying clear of each other the best you could to sitting across from each other alone. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Huh. 

You looked at him with confusion, “Why?” 

Jake sat up, leaning forward, and wrapped his arms around himself, “For starting a fight with Yeonjun in front of you. For him talking about you the way he did.” 

“Jake,” you also leaned forward, placing your hand on his knee, “You were just defending me, there’s nothing wrong with that. My brother would beat the shit out of you for even apologizing for it.” 

Jake scoffed, “The fight wouldn’t have happened in the first place if I didn’t lose my cool.” 

“You aren’t…wrong…” You studied him. You’ve known Jake basically his whole life, you know his mannerisms and tell by his body language that he was truly deeply sorry, that’s one thing that has never changed about him, “Just don’t be sorry. You were defending me.” 

Jake nodded, his eyes finding a corner of the tub, watching as the bubbles pop, then softly laughed, “Sorry I cock blocked you, that wasn’t cool of me.” 

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah, you really did cock block me,” you let out a sigh, “Too bad he ended up being an asshole, really wanted to have a good fuck.” 

“Fuck me then,” Jake said softly. 

All you could do was look at him, not being able to tell if he was serious or not. 

“Funny joke.” 

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” 

The whole reason you wanted to go out and gain a hookup was to release the sexual frustration that you had for the man sitting in front of you. But now that said man is straight up asking you to fuck him. 

“You said we can’t be doing this, my brother—“

“I don’t care,” Jake moved forward, reaching his hand out and grabbing your waist, pulling you back over to him and in his lap. 

His hands squeezed your thighs on either side of him, his forehead connecting to yours, “I can’t take it anymore. The way you’ve been teasing me…After seeing the way Yeonjun was undressing you with his eyes…the way he was touching you.” 

His length grew hard underneath you, his hands sliding up to the strings of your bikini bottoms, gripping them tightly. 

Jake thought he could survive these two weeks, thought he was stronger, and that the respect and bond he had with Jay was strong enough to keep him away. Unfortunately, your hold on him was stronger. 

“I want you, so bad,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting your lips. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, “I want you too…” 

You did. Oh god did you want him badly. But how could you betray your brother's rules? He’d kill you both. 

Jake pulled at the strings of your bottoms slightly, “Just give me the word, and I’ll fuck you so good I swear it.” 

Oh, fuck it.

You nodded, “Jaeyun, please.” 

And that line got crossed. 

Jake’s lips connected to yours, kissing you with such passion and need, like he’s been wanting for this his entire life. 

His fingers pulled at both sides of strings, your bottoms completely coming undone and him pulling them away from your body to float off somewhere in the hot tub. 

His tongue invades your mouth, twisting the muscle around yours letting soft and quiet moans release into your mouth. 

You rolled your hips against him, sliding your folds against his clothed length as your fingers got tangled up in his hair. 

Jake squeezed your hips, pushing you down harder onto him, bucking his hips up in motion with yours. 

You released your mouth from his, a string of saliva connected to your mouths, “I need you, Jake, please.” 

His hands left your hips and flew to his shorts, his fingers pulling at the strings. You, being impatient, looped your fingers into his shorts, helping him pull them down. 

“Fuck baby, that needy for my cock?” 

You nodded, watching as his shorts went down at his thighs, his thick length now resting against his abdomen. 

Taking his cock in your hands, you slowly pumped him. 

Jake’s hand went back to your waist, biting his lips. Fuck your hand feels so good against his cock, it was everything he ever imagined and more. 

Jake lifted you, letting you adjust him to your fuck hole, lining him up perfectly. 

“You ready, baby?” Jake asked, wanting one last form of permission from you before crossing the line even further behind the return. 

You nodded, slowly sliding yourself down onto him. 

You both groan out at the feeling of him bottoming out, the sensation already sending Jake over the edge. He could cum right now just from bottoming out. 

You rolled your hips slowly to help get adjusted to his size, hands gripping his broad shoulders as you slowly picked up your pace. 

Jake’s mouth connected back to yours as you rode him. bucking his hips up at the same motion as you. 

“Fucckkkk, you’re so tight, baby. Taking my dick so good, oh fuck.” 

You picked up the pace, his dick hitting your g-spot perfectly. 

Jake’s brain was going fuzzy, the sensation of his dick buried deep in your cunt was sending him to another world. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Jake slid his hands up to the string of your top, fingers gripping them tightly along with your skin, fingers digging in as he slid them back down your back, his hips bucking up harder into you. 

You moaned out a little too loud, Jake’s lips reattaching to your lips, “Shhh, baby, you need to stay quiet.” 

You nodded, biting down on your lips to suppress your sounds as you continued to slide his dick in and out of you…in and out, in and out. 

Jake knew he would cum soon, that knot in his stomach threatening to snap and the twitch of his dick. 

Then your pussy tightened around him, your own high approaching. 

“I’m…cumming soon,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders. 

“Yeah, baby?” He slid his hand down to your heat, thumb rubbing circles on your clit, “Wanna cum?” 

“Please.” You begged, throwing your head back as your legs got weaker, biting down on your tongue as the knot snapped. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, make a mess all over my cock.” 

You fell forward, resting your head against his, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he fucked into you, the overstimulation making you dizzy along with the heat from the water. 

“Jake…” 

“I know baby girl,” he whispered, locking his jaw at the knot and getting close to releasing, “Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” 

With a groan, he pumped his seed against your walls riding out his high. 

Jake wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair and let out a sigh, “Jay is going to kill us both.” 

Jake chuckled, “Yeah, but only if he finds out.” 

You both took a moment to catch your breaths, your hands releasing from his hair and sliding down his neck, your fingers stopping at the chain of his necklace. A beautiful large double link pendant.

Jake noticed your eyes at his neck, “It’s pretty, right?” he said between deep breaths.

You nodded, twisting the metal between your fingers.

He lifted his hands from your sides, reaching behind him and unattaching the clasp, removing it from his body and moving it to yours, the double links dropping at your collar bones.

“Jake, no, I can’t take this!” you went to take the necklace off, “This was probably very expensive!”

Jake grabbed your hands, sliding them back around his neck, “It’s yours now, a beautiful necklace for a very beautiful woman. Keep it.”

Your heart was racing, your stomach filled with butterflies at the way he smiled and looked at you.

“It looks better on you anyway baby,” Jake wraps one arm back around you, his free hand cupping your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss.

—

Jake had to admit, that seeing you walking around with his necklace around your neck drove him insane. 

It was like his own way of marking you without physically having to do it. 

You plopped down onto the couch next to Heeseung, the necklace sitting beautifully against your collarbones. 

Oh, did Jake want his lips on your neck right now. 

“Damnit!” Sunghoon shouted, tossing the Nintendo Controller onto the coffee, “Why are you so damn good?!” 

Heeseung raised a brow, “It’s Mario Kart??? It doesn’t take skill??” 

Jay patted his back, “At least you aren’t last place, like someone sitting in the corner over there,” 

And then all eyes went to Jake.

“Oh, fuck off!” he snapped, “I don’t play Mario Kart!” 

You smiled at your friends, eyes connecting with Jake’s. 

He gave you his flirty smile, eyes leaving yours, and went back to the TV as the next race started. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Last night in the hot tub replayed in your mind on a loop. The way his hands felt against your skin, how his lips fit perfectly to yours. How his cock felt…You couldn’t help but wonder if he went to bed last night too with his brain flooding of you. 

And he did. 

Having sex with you was everything Jake imagined it to be. It was actually BETTER than he imagined it. To finally feel you wrapped around his cock and hear your pretty moans in his ears. Oh, it was heaven. 

The only issue now is…well…he wants more. So much more. 

He spent most of his time last night after the hot tub sex thinking the next moment he’d be able to fuck you. Thinking how he’d be able to get you alone long enough or even have the opportunity to get you alone. 

Another problem is, that those chances are slim. 

You lifted the collar of your hoodie over your neck, not wanting to chance your brother, or really anyone, seeing Jake’s necklace. 

You both crossed a line and now have to deal with the secret of it. 

The sound of the washing machine went off, telling you your laundry was finished. 

You quickly jumped from the couch. 

“What are we doing for lunch?” Jay finally said, “Y/N? What do you think?

You stopped halfway out of the living room, turning back to look at your brother, “Why not just order takeout?” 

Jay shrugged, “Guys?” 

As the boys discussed lunch, you finished your walk back to the laundry room. 

By the time you transferred your wet clothes into the dryer, Jake walked in, “Is the washer open now?” 

You gave him a nod, closing the dryer door and turning it on. 

“What did you decide for lunch?” you asked, leaning against the dryer. 

Jake shoved his dirty clothes into the washing machine, “We decided on takeout like you suggested.” 

You nodded, “Nice, I’ll go tell Jay what I want.” 

You barely were out of the room when Jake’s hand wrapped around your wrist. 

He pulled you back, leaning you back against the dryer, “Stay, please.” 

Jake’s free hand gripped the door, barely leaving it open a crack. 

Before you could ask him anything else, his hands cupped your face, his lips crashing to yours. 

You kissed him back, your hands pulling at his jacket, bringing him closer to you. 

Jake has been waiting since watching you walk up those stairs last night to kiss you again. To feel you pressed to him again. 

With one last passionate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, “Jay already knows your order, no need to leave.” 

It was true your brother knew your food orders, which was all you needed to stay in place even after Jake removed himself from you to finish starting his laundry. 

Once the washer was started, he leaned against it beside you, crossing his arms, “Can I ask you something?” 

You nudged his arm, “Yes, of course! We’ve known each other for our whole lives, you can ask me anything.” 

“Can I sneak up to your room tonight?” 

It was a simple question, yet it was enough to make your heart stop. He bit the inside of his mouth, anxiously waiting for your answer. 

His question was proof that last night wasn’t a one-time thing. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind it. If Jay’s bedroom wasn’t right beside yours. 

“Jake,” you whispered, peeking your eyes between the cracked door, “You know his bedroom is right beside mine, right? And my parents' room down the hall?” 

Jake shrugged, “And? That’s the point of sneaking into your room like we are teenagers.” 

You tried to not laugh, looking away from him and his goofy grin. 

“Come onnnn baby,” he teased, pulling you to his chest, “Let me shove that pretty face of yours face down into your pillows while I fuck you so good from behind.” 

He slid his hands down to your ass, squeezing the fat while he pressed his hard length against you, his lips finding your neck, “Wanna fuck you so hard and watch my necklace bounce against your pretty collarbones.”

You were melting under his touch. Folding so hard for him. He makes your heart race faster than anyone else ever has. 

“Please…” you softly moaned, hoping he heard you over the sounds of the machines. 

He did. Hearing you beg for him to fold you like an omelet later tonight was turning him on so badly. He thrust his cock harder against you. 

“Get on your knees, baby,” Jake whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. 

You dropped down with no hesitation, hands already reaching for the buttons of his jeans, helping him slide them down along with his boxers in one motion. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock resting against his abdomen. 

Jake stroked himself, watching how undone you’re already becoming for him, “Such a good girl for me. Put your hands on my thighs, and stick that pretty tongue out.” 

You did what you were told, hands resting against his toned thighs, tongue sliding out of your mouth. 

“Fuck…” 

He placed the tip onto your tongue, immediately wrapping the muscle around him, taking him completely in your mouth. 

Jake groaned, his hands gripping the edges of the washing machine and praying his knees wouldn't fail him now. 

You bobbed your head, tongue licking up his shaft all the way to the top, spreading his precum and mixing it with your saliva. 

Lifting your hand from his thigh, you wrapped it around his length, following the motions as your mouth. 

Fuck you were sucking him off so good. His mind went cloudy, the only thing he focused on was how fucking good your mouth felt. 

Jake pulled your long hair into a ponytail, wrapping the locks between his fingers and giving it a tight pull. 

You moaned against him, the vibrations sending gasping out of his mouth, his hips fucking forward, “Oh, fuck…Y/N, fuck.” 

Jake pulled your hair slightly harder, not wanting to hurt you, his dick hitting the back of your throat as he fucked your mouth. 

Your hands found his thighs again, fingers digging into his skin. You were losing yourself against his cock, knowing full well your panties were soaked. 

You looked up at him, seeing how much of a mess he was. Pupils were blown out, mouth opened, chest heaving. 

Who knew you could make such a mess of him? 

“Sucking me off so good, Y/N. I’m…fuck I’m, I’m gonna cum.” 

You stuck your tongue out further, giving him more access to the back of your throat as he continued to face fuck you until his warm load shot down your throat. 

“Clench your lips,” he whispered between breaths. You did as you were told, him slowly sliding his dick from your lips, “Swallow and show me.” 

You gulped it down, opening your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, showing him the proof. 

Jake smirked, using your hair that was still wrapped around his hands to pull you back up to your feet, “Such a dirty girl, only for me, ya?” 

You nodded, licking the side of your lips.

He gave you one final kiss, then pulled his boxers and jeans back over his hips. 

The laughter from your brother and friends from the living room filled the house while they cheered over their video games. 

Jake’s fingers adjusted his necklace on your neck, fingers rubbing up to your jaw, his heart did flips seeing how you stared back at him with your fucked out lips. 

“Let’s go back, can’t let them get too suspicious.” 

Jake watched as you left, carrying your laundry basket quickly up the stairs to your room. 

He leaned back against the washing machine, hand clenching his shirt, feeling the rush of his heartbeat. 

Oh, he’s in deep trouble. 

—

Jake’s promise to fuck you face down ass up was fulfilled. Yours and his clothes scattered all over the floor of your room. Your moans being muffled out by your pillows and Jake’s hand at the back of your head shoving your face deeper into the fabric. It was the best you’ve ever been fucked. 

Your bed felt empty after Jake snuck right back out your door and went back downstairs. 

You were scared tonight would be the last, but fortunately for you, it wasn’t. 

The following night he quietly knocked on your door before quickly slipping in and crawling into bed with you. 

This went on for the rest of the week. The two of you finding time throughout the day to have a quick make-out session just for him to crawl into your bed at night. 

But it wasn’t always the rough sex you’d have. One night Jake cuddled you until you fell asleep before quietly exiting your bedroom. One night he held you in his arms listening to you talk about your classes back at college and the friends you had. One night he laid his head against your chest, listening to the sweet sound of your breathing and heartbeat. And then, oh god that night, it wasn’t rough sex or even a good fuck. He made love to you. 

He hovered over you, one hand gently cupping your face as he squeezed your leg that was wrapped around his waist. Soft and slow thrusts were completely turned on just from being with each other and the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. How softly he’d kiss you and tell you how pretty you are. How lucky he was to have you in his life. 

That’s the night you completely folded. You fell in love with him. It wasn’t about the sex anymore. It was about him. About the man you’ve known your whole life, that you grew with and watched him become who he is today. 

Your feelings for him ran deep. 

The secret meet-ups during the day turned into playful kisses, him wrapping you up in his arms and hugging you tightly. 

You were really screwed. 

The final week of vacation was half over and Jake was dreading the finale. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet. Wasn’t ready to let you go. Knowing damn well the minute you go your separate ways he would lose his goddamn mind. 

All because of Jay’s rules. All because of the fucking “off limits”. 

You and Sunghoon made lunch for everyone, giving your brother a day off from cooking. 

Since you weren’t the best cook, ramen was on the menu. 

You prepared the noodles and broth while Sunghoon prepared the meat. 

“You guys both know that if this ramen turns out like shit it won’t be me beating your asses right?” your brother teased, his eyes looking between Jake and Heeseung. 

“Yeah yeah fuck off,” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “We know the ramen lovers will lose their shits. They’ll survive.” 

“Hey now,” Jake snipped, turning around to face his friend, “I am so serious about my ramen!” 

Heeseung agreed, high-fiving Jake, “We don’t fuck around when it comes to our ramen.” 

You finished up two bowls, rolling your eyes as you set the first fresh bowls in front of the ramyeonz, “You both are so annoying!” 

“They are, aren’t…they.” Jay’s eyes fixated on the necklace around your neck. He barely noticed it with the way your sweatshirt covered it. But when you bent down just right to put the bowls in front of Heeseung and Jake, it became noticeable. 

If it weren’t for Heeseung sitting to his left, and Jake sitting in front of him, Jay wouldn’t have clocked the necklace as suspicious and went on about his day. 

But the necklace looked familiar, and all it took was Jay’s eyes to wander to his best friend, no longer seeing the silver chain sitting against his neck. 

“Can’t believe I’ve spent my whole life stuck with annoying boys like you!” You teased them, earning a middle finger from Heeseung and Jake scoffing out an “whatever” trying to shove you playfully but missing as you were too quick to back away. 

“We are men! And you totally love us!” Heeseung said with a mouthful of ramen, “Doesn’t she Jake? We are the extra brothers you didn’t ask for.” 

Jay clocked the look on Jake’s face, the awkward smile he had, and the way he was hesitant to answer, “Y-yeah. Of course.” 

“We are stuck with you just as much as you’re stuck with us,” Sunghoon added, “Get over it.” 

You elbowed him, “Whatever Hoon!” his smile and laugh causing your own to form. These boys were truly dear to your heart, and it took years of being away from all four of them to realize how deeply you did miss them. Especially your brother. 

Jay kept quiet most of lunch, his eyes wandering back and forth between you and Jake. Taking mental notes of everything in the small details. 

How you look at him, how he looks at you. How you sat beside him at the table when you usually sit beside Jay or Sunghoon. The little graze of Jake’s hand ran across your ass as he walked past you while you and Heeseung cleaned the dishes, causing you to scrunch your nose at him, thinking no one noticed. 

You all went grocery shopping to refill the food in your parent's cabinets and fridge, Jay taking notes on how Jake was always right behind you or straying not too far from you. Jay was hoping he was overthinking, that maybe the two of you got closer after the bar fight last week, but something didn’t sit right with Jay. 

He lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling that night, the sight of Jake’s necklace suddenly appearing around your neck. 

Jay shoved his face into his pillow, trying to chase after the sleep he deeply needed and wanted, wanting to forget everything and give his best friend the benefit of the doubt, to trust the bond they had and the rules that were set. 

That was until he heard your bedroom door opening and quickly shutting right after. 

Jake spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist as he bottoms out, one hand flying to cover your mouth as he fucks into you fast and deep. 

Both of you became a cumming mess. 

You pulled your shorts over your hips and Jake’s tee shirt that you stole from his clean laundry over your head. 

After Jake had his boxers over his hips, he playfully pulled you down onto your bed, his face cuddling up into your neck, “I don’t think I ever could get enough of your pussy.” 

You wrap your arms around his bare back, drawing small infinity eights, “And I don’t think I ever could get enough of your dick.” 

You felt him smile against your skin, “At least we are on the same page.” 

Jake could get so high off the sex you have, it was addicting, his own personal drug. 

His heartbeat fastened due to the thought of being away from you. Deciding now was a better time than any to bring up the topic. 

Jake sat up, his hand resting at your hip, “Y/N, can-“ 

Before Jake could get another word out, your worst fear came to fruition. 

The door opened with such force, your brother standing in the doorway, jaw locked tightly and fists clenched. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

Your heart stopped, quickly sitting up, trying to find the right words. 

Jake sat up behind you, “Jay, bro, listen to me,” 

“There isn’t a DAMN thing to listen to!” Jay yelled, turning on his heels.

“JAY!!” Jake yelled back, jumping from your bed and quickly sliding back into his sweatpants, pulling his shirt over his head as he followed your brother down the stairs, “Man stop we need to talk!!” 

You finally found the will to move, climbing out of your bed and rushing down the stairs at the right moment of Sunghoon and Heeseung running from the spare bedroom, confused looks piled onto their faces. 

“Will you listen to me!” Jake grabbed his friend's shoulder, Jay quickly whipped around and threw his hand off him. 

“Listen to you? Give me one goddamn reason why I should be listening to you right now?!” Jay snapped, getting into Jake’s face. 

“Woah! Woah!” Heeseung rushed over, pushing himself between them. 

“Because I am your best friend man!” Jake snapped back. 

“Yeah? My best friend?” Jay moved forward, Sunghoon now had to step in, pushing Jay back as Heeseung handled Jake, “My best friend wouldn’t be dicking down my little sister!!” 

Everyone in the room froze, Sunghoon and Heeseung making glances between each other, and then between Jay and Jake. 

Jake’s jaw locked, not wanting to say the wrong thing right now. 

You stood at the last step of the stairs, too scared to move. 

“I gave you one, ONE, rule. That she was off limits,” Jay’s eyes found you, “And you! I said no boys!” 

“Nah, man!” Jake finally spoke up, stepping in front of Jay’s line of sight, “This is between you and me. Leave her out of it.” 

“She betrayed me just as much as you did!” Jay scoffed, “How could you do this to me, man?” 

Jay relaxed his body as he leaned against the couch, Jake also relaxed, “Bro it just…it just happened.” 

That wasn’t the right thing to say, “How does it just “happen” Sim Jaeyun?! Huh?!” 

shit. 

Jake rolled his eyes, “Dude, I don’t know!” he threw his arms into the air, “It just did!”

“Stop lying!” Jay stood back up, “Stop fucking lying to me!” 

“Oh good FUCKING god! Why are you so protective over her?! She’s a grown-ass adult!” Jake ran his hand through his hair, “We aren’t kids anymore man!” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s my everything!! From the moment she was born, I promised I was going to protect her from everyone! including you.” 

Jake chuckled, “Protect her from what?!” 

“From her getting hurt!” 

“I wouldn’t do that!” 

“What’s so different with her then huh?” Jay stepped forward, Sunghoon placing his hand on his chest, “What’s so different dicking down the girls in chem class and my sister, hmm? You’re such a play—“

“I am in love with her.” Jake spat out. 

The room fell silent, confusion not only on Jay’s face but your own. 

“What?” 

“I’m in love with her, man,” Jake sighed with a shake of his head, “I’ve always been in love with her. Even as kids, I…I always had this ache in my heart, never understanding what it was, and because of your stupid ass rule…I was never able to figure it out.” 

Jay relaxed himself back against the couch, eyes staring holes into the floor. 

Jake continued, “Yeah I might have been a stupid ass playboy and completely forgot about your sister and what she meant to me but good god, the minute she stepped foot into this house…” Jake turned and looked at you, “Everything I felt all those years ago became clear.”

Jay looks up at you, the hardness that once sat in his eyes a second ago was gone, nothing sat there except soft sadness. 

“Yes, I’ll admit, I had sex with your sister at first to release the sexual frustration, but the moment it happened…I was done for.” 

Jake placed his hands on your face, his forehead touching yours, “She’s everything to me too, Jay.” 

Jay let out a sigh, “What about you, stink? What’s your side?” 

You remove yourself from Jake, walking around him and standing in front of your older brother, “I love him,” Jay rolled his eyes, staring back down at the floor, “But I love you too!! Jongseong, you’re my everything too. You’re the best big brother I could have ever asked for, you’ve done your job protecting me.” 

Jay looked at you with glossed-over eyes, “Why him? Why out of everyone, one of my best friends?” 

You shrugged, “It just happened that way.” 

You stepped closer to him, pulling him into a hug, he gave in and hugged you tightly back. 

“I am deeply and truly sorry that everything happened this way. I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Jay knew that, deep down he knew this wasn’t what either you or Jake wanted. That this was something that just kinda happened. And he has to accept it. 

Jake appears at your side, having you step away, pulling Jay into another hug, “I won’t hurt her. I promise. I’d die first before I’d ever do that.” 

Jay sighed, also giving into Jake and hugging him back, “Hurt her and it’s your funeral I am planning.” 

Jake chuckled, slapping his best friend on the back, “No problem there buddy.” 

Jay pushed Jake away, “Okay, let’s all go back to bed. I am sure we already disturbed my parents enough.” 

You let out a yawn, exhaustion sweeping over you. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked towards the spare room and you up the stairs, Jake following behind you. 

“Uhhh nah,” Jay snapped his fingers, pushing Jake towards the spare room, “You ain’t going back up there.” 

“Come on dude.” Jake groaned. 

“No, I’m sleeping in front of her door.” Jay pointed at the two others, “Make sure he doesn’t leave the room.”’

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, “You all are really actually annoying.” 

—

You sat at the kitchen table, peeling the potatoes for tonight's dinner, watching as the four boys and your dad stood outside in the cold grilling the meats. 

Your mom stood behind you at the island, tossing the salad. Her careful eyes studied you, “Want to talk about it, my sweet daughter?”

You turned and faced her, “Talk about what?” 

She gives you a soft smile, “About the reason your brother was screaming last night.” 

You sighed, turning back around to continue peeling the potatoes, “You and dad heard everything?” 

Your mother sat down beside you, taking the peeler and potato out of your hands, forcing you to face her. 

“Honey, your brother is a very vocal person when he’s upset. It scared us half to death.” 

She held your hands, her thumbs circling your palms, “Why didn’t you come and stop the fight?” 

She sighs, looking outside at your father, “We wanted to, but your father said it was best for you guys to handle it. It was a matter we couldn’t step into.” 

You understood that, everyone here is grown adults, your parents stepping in probably more than likely wouldn’t have helped anyway. 

You followed your mother's gaze outside, watching as your brother flipped over the steak with dad right beside him. Jake sorted the raw meat into separate plates, handing them off to Jay to be grilled while Heeseung and Sunghoon helped cut the cooked meat into pieces. 

Your eyes lingered on Jake, watching as he said something to Jay, your brother smiling wide and shoving Jake. That made you happy at least, knowing that your betrayal didn’t completely shatter their friendship. 

“Y/N, you love him, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nodded, the tears swelling up in your eyes, “Momma I love him so much. But the fact Jay caught us the way he did is eating me alive. The last thing I wanted to do was see that betrayal and hurt in my brother's eyes.” 

“Y/N, can I tell you a little story?” 

You nodded, looking back at her. She wiped the tears off your face and squeezed your hand, “You want to know why your brother started that rule in the first place?” 

You nodded again. 

“It was Jongseong’s tenth birthday party, and Jaeyun just returned from visiting Australia, you remember that?” 

You slightly nodded, trying to recall the memory. Jake would disappear to the land of kangaroos at least once or twice a year growing up. Narrowing down specifically when this is in this situation would be hard to pinpoint. 

“Well, Jaeyun brought back gifts, not just for you know, your brother, Heeseung and Sunghoon, but one for you.” 

The memory completely came back to you. Jake brought you back a small keychain with a baby joey and your name on it. You had that keychain on your school backpack for a couple of years until you lost it. 

“I remember, Jay was irritated with me that day and I couldn’t figure out why, I was only nine.”

Your mother nodded, “It was the first, and last time may I add, that Jaeyun ever brought you back a gift.” she softly laughed at the memory, “Little Jaeyun handed your brother his birthday gift and souvenir, giving Heeseung and Sunghoon theirs, then he rushed away from the picnic table looking for you. That little keychain was in his hands until it was placed into your hands. Oh, was your brother upset.” 

“So he was jealous that I also got a gift?” You raised your brow, glancing back outside at your brother, jealousy was never something he had or even showed. 

“That’s what we thought it was at first, just Jongseong being jealous that his baby sister also got a gift on his birthday. Your dad tried calming him down for a good twenty minutes.” 

Jay and Jake started to play fighting outside, running further into the yard as your dad just laughed and took a sip of his beer bottle. 

“After your dad got him calmed down, we were finally able to talk to him about why it upset him, and you know what he said?” 

You looked back at your mom, waiting for the answer. 

“That you were too young for a boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes, of course he said that. Even as a child at the age of ten, he wanted you nowhere near other boys, “We had to explain to him that just because Jaeyun brought you back a gift, didn’t mean he likes you. But your brother wasn’t having any of it, kept saying over and over that the look Jaeyun gave you said otherwise. Then he told your father no one would be good enough for his little sister, that you were a prize that could never be won. So he came up with his rules. His friends were told you were now off limits, specifically to Jaeyun. And then he told you no boys.” 

Your heart melted, knowing that Jay’s rules were always just a way to protect you, that he held you on such a high pedestal to the point no male would ever be good enough for you in his eyes. That you did indeed deserve so much. 

“Obviously, your brother didn’t want you dating his friends, it would have been weird, mostly with how close the five of you were growing up. But your father and I figured he would have eventually let it go.” 

You shrugged, making eye contact with Jay, he gave you a small smile before returning back to the grill after his play fight with Jake, “But you know, mom, I am grateful for his rules. He has helped me get out of so many terrible relationships and helped me see my worth.” 

Your mom pulled you into a hug, “He loves you so much. You two are truly blessed to have each other as siblings.” 

You agreed, no one will ever compare to your brother. 

Your mom pulled back, rubbing your shoulders before standing up and going back to the island, “I always secretly wanted you to get with one of them.” 

“Mother!” you snapped, “Huh?!”

“What?” She smiled, “Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon have always been good kids. I practically raised them! If any boy would be good enough for my daughter it would be one of them. Just funny how the person who created the whole reason the rules came into place is the same one who took your heart.” 

You had to admit, it was funny. No wonder Jay literally lost his bonkers last night, questioning you on why Jake. 

“Treat him well, Y/N. And give your brother some time to get over it. He’s strong, and he will get over it. Don’t beat yourself up or let it affect your relationship with Jake.” 

Your mother was right. But you still can’t help but feel a bit guilty. Jay deserved the truth from the beginning. 

—

The rest of the week went by in a flash. And turns out you really had nothing to worry about with Jake and Jay. 

The two boys moved on like it didn’t happen, that their friendship was never on the line to begin with. 

Jay even was being his normal self to you. 

Dinner last night Jake sat beside you and even put his arm around you, and Jay didn’t even bat an eye. 

It felt…different. You and Jake went from secretly hiding around to holding hands, hugging you any moment he could, and weren’t afraid to sit close to you. The only thing he secretly did was when he wanted to kiss you. Which you understood. 

Jake still snuck into your room as well. That didn’t change. But the final night at the house, Jay straight up told him to spend any final moments with you. 

Unfortunately, the night went by too quickly. You woke up in Jake’s arms, the only thing that could be heard was the sounds of his soft breathing and his heartbeat in your ear. 

Jay’s alarms went off in his room, then the sound of his feet shuffling against the floor. You knew it was time to get up. 

You got Jake up, sending him downstairs to pack and get ready. 

Time was flying too fast, and soon enough your parents stood on the front porch, hugging each of you goodbye. 

“Please come back home soon!” Your mother whined, tears staining her face, “I miss you both already!” She pulled you and Jay into a hug. 

You fought back your tears, and you could tell your brother was too. 

Your parents hugged the other boys as well, telling them to not be strangers and stop by anytime they come home or to even come back when Jay does. 

But then the moment you wanted to shove away came, saying goodbye to Jake. 

You hugged Heeseung, “Keep in touch kiddo!” he said with a pat on your head, “Stay out of trouble.” 

“I think you’re the one who needs to stay out of trouble, Hee.” You pinched his arm, then moved on to Sunghoon, “You too! I heard all about your party shenanigans!” 

Sunghoon playfully shoved you, “As if!” and then pulled you into a hug. 

Jay was next. 

“C'mere stinks.” Jay pulled you into a tight hug, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your time with us.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, “I’m so glad you convinced me.” 

Jay gave you one last tight squeeze before releasing you, “Love ya, please stay safe and talk often, ya?” 

“Of course.” 

He gave you one last smile, before his eyes lifted over behind you, “And keep him in check, ya? I can’t do it on my own.”

You turned behind you just in time to see Jake roll his eyes, “Dude, I keep myself in check.” 

You patted his arm, “Sure you do babe, it’s okay.”

Everyone had their laughs except for Jake who rolled his eyes once again. “I hate you all.” 

“Whatever, go say your goodbyes so we can leave,” Jay said, shooing you away. 

Jake followed you to your car, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled your body to his, leaving no space in between. “I’m not ready to leave you yet.” 

“I don’t want to leave you either, Jake.” 

He really wasn’t ready to leave you yet, wasn’t ready to be apart, “Why did you choose a college so far away?” 

You gigged, “Because at the time it’s where I wanted to be.” 

“Transfer. Come be with me.” 

You smiled at him, cupping his face, “I’ll think about it.” 

Jake shook his head, sticking his tongue out at you, “Don’t tease me.” 

You touched his forehead to yours, “I’ll miss you, so much.” 

Oh, now Jake wanted to cry, “God knows how badly I’ll miss you too.” 

He pulled you even closer, lips connecting to yours. 

Jake kissed you like you were about to disappear from his grasp. Like the universe was going to rip you away from him. 

Your cherry chapstick filled his senses and made his head spin, oh the things he’d do and the crimes he’d commit to always get a taste of your lips. 

“Hey!!” Jay shouted from his car, his head hanging out the driver's side window, Heeseung and Sunghoon also peeking out their windows, “You gonna keep making out with my little sister or we gonna hit the road? She’s got a longer drive than us!” 

Jake laughed against your lips, head turning to his friend, “If you’re going to give me a choice then…” 

“Hurry up!” Jay snapped with a laugh. 

“Go,” you said, “You’ll see me soon.” 

Jake placed one final kiss on your lips, pulling away as he walked backward towards Jay’s car. 

“I love you!” Jake shouted freely, finally happy to say those three words he’d been holding back. 

“I love you too!!” You shouted back. 

“Call me when you’re back in your dorm!” 

You nodded, climbing into your car. Jake got into the back of Jay’s car, letting out a sigh. 

“Missing your girlfriend already?” Heeseung teased. 

“Man,” Jake shook his head, “Shut up.” 

Jay took off down the street, slouching down into the seat, “Don’t worry, man.” 

Jake slung his head back onto the seat, staring out the window, “How can I not?” 

Jay looked into the rearview mirror, “I already have a plan to convince her to transfer.” Jake smiled, “If I can convince her to come home for two weeks, I can convince her to transfer. It’s already in motion.” 

Jake sat up, slapping his friend on the shoulder, “My man!” 

Jay knew he had to get used to seeing Jake with you, and he already could imagine the pain you both would feel being apart. Plus, having you around more often wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would be just like when you were all kids. 

Jake sat back down in the seat, his smile never fading with thoughts of you.

—tags: @wooziswife @enhaslxt @woniebae @nctislifue @nanabbg @rikisnuggie @ericluvs @nyfwyeonjun @ratedjaeyoon @yvesgfss @addictedtohobi @nshmrarki @hey-hey-heybitch @eneiyri @smiling-lion @loves0ft @luvswonyoung

[moon-reblogs]

HIDDEN LOVE ⋆𐙚 lhs

꒰ SUMMARY ! ꒱ to others, he was lee heeseung: musical prodigy, star of the basketball team, and golden boy of his college. to you, he was hee: your brother’s best friend, your safe place, and your first and final love.

pairing brother’s bsf!heeseung x fem!reader (ft. brother!jay) warning mention of violence, assault, profanity, blood and injury, not proofread word count 9.2k notes happy bday @bluriki! love u rora bb & hope you like my gift! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

THE FIRST TIME YOU MET LEE HEESEUNG, he was nineteen and you were seventeen.

School bag in hand and sweat on your forehead, you sighed in content as the coolness of the air conditioned home kissed your flushed skin. The summer heat was unforgiving, so no one could blame you when you rushed towards the freezer, throwing the door open in search of the precious stash of mango popsicles you saved for yourself as treats for enduring another tedious day at school. The last thing you expected was to find that there was none left.

In disbelief, you rummaged through the drawers, wondering if you misplaced them. But it soon came clear to you that this wasn’t an error on your part. There was no one else in this household who had the same appetite for ice cream as you did — and this time, you just knew he was to blame.

You slammed the door of the freezer shut, your mind made up as you stomped over to your brother’s room. Since he came home from college for summer break, he had been invading every bit of territory that you claimed as your own upon his departure from home. You didn’t even need to question when he had the opportunity to steal your precious ice cream. The evidence was all against him. So you didn’t hesitate to enact justice when you saw him.

“Hey!” you yelled at the top of your lungs. You twisted open his bedroom door, throwing it open with all the annoyance you could summon. “Park Jeongseong, you—!”

You froze mid sentence, eyes comically wide as they stared at the sight before you — one that wasn’t your brother. A person who could only be a character of a manhwa who had come to life. Had you been idealised without even realising? Because the stranger in front of you was far too pretty to be real.

Sitting in the halo of the sunlight that filtered through your brother’s window, the person before you cradled a guitar over his lap, slender fingers pausing in the middle of a gentle strum. Doe-like eyes met yours, giving him the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights. Still, with the framing of his soft hair against his forehead and the soft angles around his face, he didn’t look any less handsome in his surprised state. With his casual baggy t-shirt and jeans, he looked like the typical flower male leads of high school romance dramas.

“…Bastard…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes blinking rapidly at the unwilling words which left your mouth. The handsome stranger raised a perfect brow at the sudden name-call, and you felt your face flush. Somehow, even such a simple action seemed attractive when he did it.

“Sorry, not you!” you amended immediately. “I was just—!” You were about to explain yourself like a burglar who was caught in the middle of a heist, only to realise that wasn’t right at all: pretty or not, the person in front of you was a total stranger inside your home, in your brother’s room. You crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground against the curious gaze of the intruder. “Wait a second— who are you? And why are you in my house?”

The intruder looked at you. You looked back. Then after a few seconds, he laughed. In your confusion, you failed to notice your older brother creep up behind you with an unimpressed look. “What are you doing in my room? I told you not to go in without knocking.”

You turned around to meet your older brother’s questioning gaze. By now, you had completely forgotten about the ice cream, instead focusing on the new mystery in front of you. “But!” You pointed to the stranger on your brother’s bed like a child pointing out a stray puppy to their mother. “There’s a random guy in your room!”

Jeongseong — or rather, “Jay,” as he liked to be called — followed the direction of your pointed finger, his gaze landed on the boy on his bed. Your brother let out a sigh. Like an adult dealing with a troublesome child, he looked down at you with a flat look. “That ‘random guy’,” Jay said, “is my best friend from college.”

Your eyes widened comically, a small ‘o’ forming on your lips. “You have friends?”

There was silence. Then, the emptiness was filled with the sound of rich laughter, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the warmth of the sound, your head turning to look at the source. Your brother’s so-called ‘best friend’ was smiling at you, his eyes dancing with mirth. Your brother rolled his eyes from behind you, unaware of the infatuated look in your eyes as you took in the sight before you.

“Heeseung, meet my little sister, [_____].” Jeongseong’s rough palm landed on the top of your head, forcing it down into a polite nod, and breaking your trance with the older male in front of you. You furrowed your brows and shook off the weight of his heavy hand, lifting your head to meet the eyes of this ‘Heeseung.’ “[_____], say hi.”

You timidly bowed your head, fidgeting slight under the amused gaze of the handsome boy in front of you.

He nodded at you, a soft smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Little Park,” he said, his voice full of the gentleness one might have when speaking to a baby kitten. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging out in your home.”

You blinked, too startstruck to do anything else. And from that moment on, your world was never the same.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED YOU MIGHT HAVE A LITTLE CRUSH ON LEE HEESEUNG, it was only a few days after meeting him.

Ever since you met Heeseung, he had been around the house more often, seeing as he had won over your parents as easily as he seemingly won over you — with his charms and smile, the couple instantly invited Heeseung to hang over at your home more often. And surprisingly enough, the boy instantly agreed.

You had always been shy around strangers. But at your age, within the walls of your school, someone as handsome as Lee Heeseung was rarer than a Shiny Pokémon. And while your own brother was considered good-looking by many people, including your friends, you had grown immune to his face from years of exposure to it and because of many embarrassing childhood memories of him attached to it. To you, Lee Heeseung was from a whole different world from your own. And that was why you couldn’t help but treat him differently than you did other boys you met.

You were skittish around him, avoiding him like a cat would water. You made sure you weren’t alone with him for too long out of fear that you might embarrass yourself with your awkwardness. On the other hand, he had always been the one to give you warm smiles out of kindness, greeting you whenever you somehow crossed paths. And you had to admit that it made you feel warm inside. But at the same time, having him around your house constantly was a little unnerving. Especially when he witnessed all the little moments that happened in your own home — even those you wished he wouldn’t have witnessed at all.

You had a test coming up for one of your classes which you had been struggling with, and in a last ditch effort to save your failing grade, you enlisted the help of your much more academically gifted older brother. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, your books and stationary scattered across the small coffee table, while your brother sat on the couch behind you, arms crossed over his chest and a ruler in his left hand, painting the image of an old-school teacher with Spartan teaching methods.

“Okay, so which formula do you use to solve this?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at the paper in front of you, trying to mentally flip through all the pages of formulas you had tried to cram in your head under your brother’s expectant gaze. You frowned when you could only remember the first few parts, completely unable to decipher the rest from the random jumble of letters and numbers that your brain came up with to fill your gaps in knowledge.

“Ouch!” You yelped when you suddenly felt the familiar feeling of the end of Jeongseong’s ruler lightly knocking your skull. You raised your hands defensively to plant on top of your head. Pouting, you turned around to glare at your brother. “What was that for?”

“I was giving your braincells a manual reboot,” he said plainly. “How hard is this? I already told you so many times how to do it.”

You huffed, your pride wounded as Jeongseong chided you. It would be fine if it was only you and your parents in the home to witness your lack of mental capacity for math. But as it happened, your brother’s best friend was pouring himself a drink in the kitchen, and happened to witness everything with front row seats.

“Seriously, how are you this dumb?” Jeongseong asked.

You drowned in embarrassment as you felt Heeseung’s eyes on the two of you. Even if he was your brother’s best friend, he was still essentially a stranger to you, and it was always more humiliating to be humbled in front of people you didn’t know. So for your brother to call you ‘dumb’ in front of him, you couldn’t help but feel wronged.

You glared at your bother. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it,” you hissed under your breath, your hands balling into fists at your side. “I’m trying my best.”

Before Jay could ask what was wrong with you, you quickly stood from your seat, your hair falling over your eyes as they remained glued to the floor. And without another word, you stormed to your room. You slammed the door shut, ignoring the protests from your older brother. Flopping onto your bed, you buried your face into one of the plushies, your limbs laying limp by your side.

You thought about the way you left the scene and groaned. Now you probably looked weird and stupid at the same time. You reached over to your bedside subconsciously, and groaned again when you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. Your laptop was still in the living room, as well, so you couldn’t carry out your plans to waste the day away in your room like you had planned.

Great. Just great.

Seems like you would just have to force yourself to take a nap instead. Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall asleep. But a knock at your door had them snapping open once more. Was it Jeongseong? What did he want right now?

Groaning, you dragged yourself off the bed. At the door, you readied yourself to give the meanest glare that you could possibly give, in case he tried to give you a hard time because of your attitude. But when you opened the door, you were surprised to find someone who wasn’t your brother.

“Hey, Little Park,” Heeseung greeted. Your eyes widened, and you felt your breath be caught inside your chest. Because why was Lee Heeseung currently in front of your room? “Sorry to bother you, I just came to bring these for you.”

Your eyes flitted down to the tray inside Heeseung’s hands that you didn’t notice upon seeing his face. It had a glass of juice on it, as well as a plate of fruit that he had cut. “This is for me?” you asked in surprise. “What’s it for?”

Heeseung chuckled warmly at your reaction. “Your brother asked me to bring it for you, since he knew you probably didn’t want to come out into the kitchen after…”

You lowered your head in shame at the reminder of how you suddenly stormed out the living room. “Please forget that happened… It’s embarassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Heeseung said gently. “Your brother did a lot more embarassing things in front of me. His mood swings were the worst during puberty.”

You laughed as you recalled memories of your older brother when he was fourteen. He had a bit of a temper, and got angered at the slightest inconveniences. One of his infamous grievances — or so you heard from your parents, when they came back from a parent-teacher interview for your brother — was when he gathered all the members of his football team in the locker rooms and gave them all a dressing-down for leaving their dirty towels scattered across the changing rooms.

Seeing your smile, Heeseung returned it with one of his own. He held out the tray in his hands, and you took it gratefully into your smaller ones, your fingers brushing slightly from the contact. You expected him to let go straight away, but to your surprise, he kept his hands there. You looked up at him questioningly.

“I know you probably wouldn’t want to hear this right now,” he said, “but your brother really cares for you.” He gestured to the fruit on the plate. “I know for a fact that whenever me and my older brother argued, he would never think to feed me afterwards.”

You lowered your head at Heeseung’s words. You knew this very well, in fact. Your brother was the person who cared about your most on this world, aside from your parents. Your mother often told the tales of how your brother had refused to leave your side when you were younger, insisting on sleeping in your room with you in case you got lonely. And then when your parents woke up to check on you when you started crying in the middle of the night, by the time they made it to the room, your brother was already by your side, gently patting you back to sleep.

Even when the two of you bickered, you knew you were fortunate to have a brother like Jeongseong.

“I know,” you told Heeseung, your head lowered.

Heeseung chuckled. And a second later, you found yourself freezing when you felt his palm on the top of your head. “Hey,” he said, meeting your surprised gaze with a smile. “Don’t feel bad.” He gave your head a gentle pat, chuckling awkwardly when you seemed even more confused. “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

The two of you laughed together, and the earlier gloom above your head was chased away by the brightness of his smile.

“I should probably go back to study,” you said, suddenly feeling invigorated.

Heeseung hummed. “How about I help you?” Upon seeing your surprised expression, he smiled warmly. “I have the free time, and your brother is still moping in his room. So we can go over some of the things you’re struggling with.”

You eagerly accepted the older boy’s offer, and the two of you sat down at the coffee table, knees brushing against each other, and your heads bumping slightly as you hunched over your school work.

You looked up at one point, after a particularly problematic equation, discretely watching Heeseung as he scanned your working. At this angle, you could admire the length of his eyelashes and the perfect outline of his side profile, and the way his chocolate brown irises appeared like caramel in the lighting. You almost flinched when those eyes of his met yours. And then he smiled at you, his hand reaching up to the top of your head once more.

“Good job, Little Park,” he said warmly. And you couldn’t help but beam under his praise. “You should take a break, though. It’s been a while.”

You didn’t refuse. After all, you would much rather not do any more equations. You worried it may be awkward between you and Heeseung, though, seeing as you’ve never had a proper conversation before today. But soon, the living room was filled with your voices as you discussed topic after topic.

“So you have an older brother, right?” you asked, remembering how he mentioned it earlier. “Do you get along?”

Heeseung hummed, and you couldn’t help but note the smooth but low register of his voice when he was relaxed. “We get along like all brothers do — but I’d say you and Jay seem to be closer than we are.” Heeseung smiled as he observed your facial features. “You’re really similar, too. Me and my brother never had a lot of shared interests.”

You tilted your head curiously. “How so?”

Heeseung leaned back onto the sofa behind the two of you, looking up at the ceiling, and giving you a nice view of his Adam’s Apple. “He was always more studious. Top student and everything. I liked music and basketball better — and apparently I’m pretty good at it.”

“Really? That’s cool!” Music and basketball was an interesting combination. But It made sense, too, considering Heeseung’s physique: Heeseung was much taller than average, and even your brother was quite a bit shorter than him; his fingers were long and slender as well, and probably skilful with the piano — though you, of course, wouldn’t say that out loud. “So you’re good at basketball? I can see it,” you said, nodding sagely. “You have the height for it.”

Heeseung chuckled. “I think I’ve heard that one before.”

The more you spoke to Heeseung, the easier for you to let down your guard. While your first impression was someone out of reach, you realised he was actually very comfortable to be around. “By the way,” you said, looking up at Heeseung, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Heeseung blinked, obviously surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“I mean…” You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You couldn’t let him know you wanted to see if he was available — especially since you only just met. “Most guys your age have girlfriends, right?”

“Your brother doesn’t, though,” Heeseung pointed out.

You nodded. “Well, that’s because my brother is terrible at flirting with girls. So it makes sense.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So what about me, then?” The corner of his lips tugged into a smirk. “If you think I have a girlfriend, are you saying I’m good at flirting?”

You blinked, not expecting that sort of question to come from him. You awkwardly avoided his eyes, humming uncertainty. “Well… I mean— you probably wouldn’t be bad at it… Right?”

Heeseung paused. Then, he laughed, the sound so full and resonant it caused your heart to beat wildly in return. “Well, I’m flattered,” he said while looking at you with amusement. He leaned towards you, his voice and smirk holding a teasing lilt. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

You didn’t realise it then, but that fluttering feeling inside your chest when you made eye contact was the beginning of your first and only love.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED THAT LEE HEESEUNG REALLY CARED ABOUT YOU, he was twenty and you were eighteen.

A year had passed since you met Lee Heeseung in your brother’s room, and since then, you could say that — whenever he was on break from college — the older boy had become something of a constant in your life from there on. Every day, when you came home from school, he would be there with a cup of juice for you to fend off the heat. And when winter came, the juice would be replaced with hot chocolate. And one the first day you saw each other during his seasonal breaks, he would have a gift for you.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t been suspecting it. But as soon as Heeseung laid eyes on you when he walked through the front door of your house, he had immediately gestured you over to him. You, being the lovesick puppy you were, immediately bounded up to him. And your eyes lit up when he held out his hand with a keychain of your favourite Sanrio character.

“Here,” he said to you, in that same gentle tone he always did. “I got this for you. I saw it at a gift store and thought you would like it.”

Jeongseong gave him an ugly look. “Where’s my present?”

Heeseung walked past him. “It’s me.”

Your brother, having his delicate feelings offended, immediately pounced on his friend in retaliation. Their laughter bounced off the walls of your home. And as the two tall males brawled playfully in front of the entrance to your home, you simply stared at the keychain in your hand with a smile, before clutching it close to your heart.

It had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where you had been used to his presence. So, whenever your brother was home, but you didn’t see Heeseung’s face, you pestered Jeongseong about it.

“Where’s Hee?” you asked one day, as you returned home from school, only to find the familiar head of ashy silver hair was no where to be seen.

Your brother gave you a narrow stare, and you briefly wondered if he had caught onto your little puppy crush on his best friend, and had consequently chased Heeseung out of his home in his typical overprotective fashion. But instead, he turned back to his show on the television, brushing your question off with a dismissive explanation.

“He’s busy,” Jeongseong said.

You frowned at the news.

“Did you ask about if he was coming to my graduation?” you asked your brother. It was your final year in high school, and in a week’s time, you would be graduating. Since Heeseung had grown close to your family, you thought that perhaps he might come. But your brother nipped that thought in the bud.

Jeongseong turned around and gave you a strange look. “Why would he?”

You paused. That was a good question: why would Lee Heeseung attend your graduation? Even if it was a milestone in your life, were the two of you really close enough that he needed to be there to share it?

“Ah,” you said, disappointed. “Never mind…”

You knew it was foolish of you to be upset about this. After all, he didn’t have an obligation to be there. The two of you wouldn’t even know each other if it weren’t for your older brother. It was childish of you to assume he would be there, as if you really meant anything to him — as if you weren’t just someone he treated well for the sake of being related to a good friend of his.

Besides, he was busy. What right did you have to demand his time?

You dragged your feet as you went towards you room, phantom puppy ears flattening against your head. As if sensing the sulking aura from you, Jeongseong let out a heavy sigh and said, “Bring your phone.”

Your head whipped towards your brother in shock. “What?”

“If you want to ask him to go to your graduation, then you ask him yourself.” Jeongseong looked at over form over the couch, holding his hand out to you. “I’ll give you his number.”

You rushed to hand your phone over to your brother like he had offered you a pot of gold. You weren’t sure why your brother was offering you his best friend’s number, but you didn’t question it. Heeseung was the only friend of his he ever allowed near his home — so it went to show that your brother didn’t mind if he was around you. You just had to make sure you weren’t obvious. So after Jeongseong had typed Heeseung’s number, you feigned calmness as you thanked him and went to your room.

But the second you closed the door behind you, you jumped onto your bed while kicking your feet giddily. After saving his contact under your nickname for me — accompanied by a hamster emoji — you quickly sent a text his way, letting him know that your brother gave him your number. It didn’t take long before you received a reply.

Hee 🐹: thanks for letting me know

Hee 🐹: i’ll save your number

You smiled as you sent another text.

You: sorry to bother you btw

You: i just wanted to ask if you were free next friday

Hee 🐹: next friday??

Hee 🐹: sorry little park but i’m busy on that day

Hee 🐹: why do you ask?

You frowned at the reply. Of course. Your brother had told you he was busy, so you shouldn’t have been disappointed. But a small part of you — the naive part — was hoping that, by some twist of fate, he would be free to celebrate what was a special day in your life. Biting your lip, you sent back a solemn reply.

You: no, it’s nothing

You: just asking

You quickly changed the topic, not wanting to alarm the boy. Knowing him, he would feel guilty if he knew he was missing out on your graduation: he was just kind like that. Always wanting to be there for everyone, always wanting to make everyone happy. You supposed it was selfish to want to keep him to yourself.

You: are you okay?

You genuinely didn’t want him to be overworking himself, so you had to make sure.

Hee 🐹: i’m fine don’t worry about me

Hee 🐹: i’ve been working at a music store lately to earn some money

You tilted your head. You knew Heeseung was talented when it came to music, but you didn’t know he worked at a music store. His parents were well off much like yours and Jeongseong’s, so he didn’t need to worry about funds — just like you and Jeongseong were told by your parents to simply focus on studying rather than getting jobs before you graduated. But it was admirable seeing Heeseung be independent, regardless.

Smiling, you sent back a text of your own.

You: oooh i didn’t know that you had a job!

You: congrats! 🥳

You: hope i’m not bothering you

Your heart skipped a beat at the next text.

Hee 🐹: you could never be a bother to me

You didn’t realise how much Heeseung meant that until a week later, after you had walked off the stage with your graduation certificate.

Your cheeks had hurt from smiling so much, your graduation certificate held carefully in your arms. Being able to celebrate it with your family and school friends you spent years with made the lack of Heeseung’s presence feel a little less empty. So you, were content with what you had, and didn’t dare ask for more.

After taking photos with your friends, you stuck by your family the entire time, until your brother had excused himself for a second to answer a call.

“Hey, are you here yet?” Jeongseong asked on the phone, making his way away from you and your parents. You didn’t pay attention to what he might be saying, too focused on posing for more pictures as a photographer your parents hired snapped away on their camera.

Time passed since your brother had left, and you didn’t know when he came back, but when he ran back towards you and your parents, he promptly apologised by saying, “I had to go pick something up.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Pick up what?”

A tap on your shoulder caught you off guard, and you whipped your head around to face the perpetrator. You hadn’t expected to come face to face with the person you had been missing tonight. You gasped and broke away from Heeseung in shock, a hand flying to your mouth. He simply chuckled at your expression, eyes crinkling and sparkling with mirth. “Happy graduation, Little Park.”

“Hee!” you exclaimed excitedly, and you jumped on him, almost tackling him to the ground. You giggled with glee as he returned your embrace, his arms wrapping around you gently, and a hand coming up to the back of your head, cradling it to his chest. Your parents chuckled on the background, and your brother sighed. You pulled back, eyes full of wonder as you looked up at your crush. “But didn’t you say you were busy? I mean, you had work, right?”

Heeseung smiled. “I couldn’t miss your graduation, could I?” He then pouted at you. “I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t mention it, though.” You sheepishly lowered your head, and he chuckled before patting your head. “Don’t worry. That’s what your brother is for. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s telling people all about your business.”

“Hey!” Jeongseong protested at having been exposed for his habit of bringing you up any chance he got. You blinked in surprise, not expecting that side of him. But as if he didn’t like the way your attention drifted from him, Heeseung cleared his throat.

You immediately looked at him. And then, as if he didn’t surprise you enough already, he suddenly pulled a bouquet out from behind his back — one that had to be bigger than the size of your head, but which happened to have all your favourite flowers.

All of a sudden, you remembered a conversation the two of you had, a few days ago on the phone.

“Can you help me with something?” Heeseung asked on the phone. You, of course, eagerly agreed, and he explained his situation. “I want to buy my brother’s girlfriend some flowers to welcome her into the family, but I don’t know which ones a girl would like. Can you give me some ideas?”

You “ooh”ed in understanding, racking your brain for some common flowers. Secretly, your heart fluttered at the thought that — of all people, and of all the girls he most likely knew — you were the first person Heeseung came to for help. You definitely didn’t want to mess this up.

“It depends, though. Everyone is different,” you replied.

There was a slight pause on the other side of the line, and you were scared that you had disappointed Heeseung. But instead, he simply hummed, and made an ‘ah’ sound out of realisation. “Then why don’t you tell me what flowers you like?” he suggested. “If I got you a bouquet, what would you want in it?”

You scolded yourself for immediately picturing Heeseung in a suit, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers as he gave you that same warm smile that he always did. Shaking your head, you immediately started to name the ones that you preferred.

You didn’t think the information you gave him would end up being used like this. With a wide grin, you accepted the flowers, your eyes sparkling like the night sky as you looked at the boy in front of you — not in a suit, like you had imagined, but handsome all the same. He always was, after all.

“Thank you, Hee,” you said, full of genuine gratitude.

He smiled at you. “Anything for you,” he said.

And now, you knew he meant it.

THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW LEE HEESEUNG ANGRY, you didn’t even know he was capable of it.

You had always been used to a warm Heeseung. The Heeseung who teased you with smirks, and simultaneously doted on you with kind smiles. But you didn’t realise that he had a side to him that was fierce, just as he was gentle. That even his blood was capable of boiling if someone pushed him far enough.

Having graduated from high school, and awaiting news from college applications, you spent your free time working part-time at a local convenience store, which happened to be fairly close to the music store Heeseung worked at. You worked day shifts, so you never worried for your safety. But one particular day, you got unlucky.

“How’s work going?” Heeseung had asked through your AirPods. He was on break, while you were simply waiting for customers to show up. At this time, you guys usually had phone calls to pass the time, and you would stack shelves with your earphones in, listening to Heeseung’s voice as he talked about his day and you told him about yours. It was one of the things you liked most about working at the convenience store — apart from the endless supply of nearly expired snacks you were allowed to eat for free.

“It’s going okay,” you replied. “Really empty, though.”

You weren’t surprised. Since it was winter, most people opted to stay inside to keep away from the cold. At most, you would have the nine-to-five workers who popped in from the office buildings across the convenience store during lunch hours. But it was already going on to four in the afternoon, so the buzz had already long died down by now.

At that moment, the door opened to signal the arrival of another customer. “Welcome,” you greeted politely, going over to the counter to get out of the way and wait for the customer to make a purchase. Heeseung didn’t say anything, allowing you to focus on your job. And it was then that you realised something was wrong.

The customer who had just walked in was stumbling over their own feet, an empty soju bottle in one hand, the other wiping his mouth after taking a swig. He was an average-looking man, middle-aged, with beady eyes and a strong stench of alcohol surrounding him. You subconsciously moved closer to the emergency button when he stumbled into one of the shelves, cursing loudly when a bunch of items fell to the floor with a clatter.

Heeseung, of course, had heard this, and instantly questioned you.

“Little Park,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tense. “What was that?”

You blinked, watching as the customer aggressively ripped a few soju bottles from the fridge, causing others to fall on the floor. The sound of shattering glass immediately followed, and you flinched. “Sir,” you called out shakily, scared that you might set him off. “If you break items, you have to pay for it.”

“Fucking hell, just shut up already!” You flinched at the customer’s raised voice. You thought you were overreacting, so you didn’t alarm Heeseung when his voice once again rang in your ear.

“I’m being serious right now,” Heeseung said. “Are you okay?”No, went unsaid. But you didn’t need to say it, because there was already a loud shuffling on the other side of the line, followed by the sound of a door being swung open. Heeseung didn’t even let you protest as you heard the sound of him running down the concrete pathway. “I’m on my way, just stay on call.”

“Huh?” You glanced at the time on your watch. His break would finish in five minutes, he really didn’t have time to be running out on your account. “But your break—!”

“Hey.” You froze upon being addressed by the man, who had suddenly appeared in front of you. And even if there was a protective screen in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel threatening as he glared at you, aggressively placing his bottles on the counter. “Who are you talking to?”

You furrowed your brows. Why was it any of his business? “Are these all you’re buying?” You asked, ignoring his question and gesturing the the alcohol bottle. You then looked at the mess he made near the fridge. Since you weren’t going to risk stepping outside the booth, where he would be able to reach you, you did your best to assess the damage from where you stood. “I see three broken bottles, so that will be added to your total.”

You reached out cautiously to grab the bottles on the counter for scanning, wanting him out of the store as soon as possible. But just as you tried to grab them, you let out a scream when the man suddenly grabbed your arm, holding your wrist like a viper trying to cut off circulation.

“You little bitch!” he cursed. “You tried calling the police, didn’t you? Just like that woman!”

“Help!” You ignored the man’s rambling. But that seemed to only make things worse. He lunged at the screen between the two of you, nails reaching for your face. You let out another scream, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried in vain to free your hand. You somehow had the sense to press the merges services button under the counter, but who knew when they would get here. “Help! Is anyone there?!”

At that moment, as if the world had answered your prayers, the door to the convince store opened. And there stood Heeseung, chest heaving, his phone clutched in his hand. Upon seeing the sight in front of him, his eyes flashed with rage beyond words, his phone falling to the floor as he marched up to the man holding your wrist captive.

He grabbed the back of his collar before ripping his form away from the counter with strength you didn’t he possessed. You watched with wide eyes as Heeseung threw him to the ground, straddling him before throwing an unforgiving fist to the man’s face. The sound of flesh and cracking bones rang out as Heeseung levelled the man relentlessly in silent rampage, not once letting a single curse slip.

You watched as Heeseung’s knuckles became bloodied, busted and bruised. And seeing him like that, you finally snapped out of your frightened daze.

“Hee!” You yelled, scrambling from behind the counter. As if you placed a spell on him, Heeseung immediately stopped, his fist pausing mid-punch. You immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, tears flooding your vision as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. “Hee, stop!”

You didn’t care for the man who tried to attack you. But you could never forgive yourself if Heeseung got into trouble because of you.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m okay…”

Heeseung let his fist fall to his side, and he sighed as he looked at the unconscious man beneath him, whose face was beaten beyond recognition. By the time the police arrived at the scene, the only thing they found was the man on the floor of the convenience store, while you and Heeseung stood to the side, the latter hold you in his arms as he stroked your head and whispered gentle words into your ears.

“It’s okay,” he said, his lips against the shell of your ear as your body trembled from the shock of the events that just unfolded. He closed his eyes, burying his nose into your hair while you sobbed into his shoulder. “I won’t let anyone hurt you…”

That day, you realised just how unforgiving Heesung was. And yet, as he held you in his arms, you felt nothing but comfort. Even then — especially then — he was warm, gentle. He was safe.

“That bastard got lucky,” Jeongseong said as he picked you and Heeseung up front the police station, where you were required to give your own statements of what happened. Your older brother gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. As soon as he heard the news of what happened, he was ready to send the person responsible for the bruise on your wrist to an early grave. And if it weren’t for the police present, holding him back when he stormed into the station, you were sure he would have. “If Heeseung hadn’t gotten to him first… I would have seriously killed him.”

Heeseung reached over from the backseat to pat your head as you zoned out in the passenger seat. You rubbed your arms for warmth, and the scent of Heeseung’s hoodie on your figure caused you to drift off to sleep while your brother ranted his frustration in the driver’s seat beside you.

And you just prayed for anyone else who ever raised a hand against you in the future. Because you knew you weren’t leaving Heeseung’s side any time soon.

THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED LEE HEESEUNG, it was just a few months later.

It was your first day of college, and you had been nervous as you moved into your new accommodation on campus. Your parents were even more so, and you had a tearful goodbye. But as soon as they left, your brother and Heeseung — who coincidentally went to the same institution that you would now attend — stayed behind to help you move your furniture in.

“That’s all of it,” Heeseung said as he dusted off his hands. He smiled at you, before wiping sweat from his forehead. And you shamelessly watched the way his skin shone under the sunlight filtering through your window. “You’re good to go, Little Park.”

You smiled. Although he didn’t seem too different, you could tell you had somehow gotten closer to him after the convenience store incident. And ever since then, his presence had always been a source of security for you. You didn’t worry when he was around.

“Remember what I said, okay?” Jay asked. He was in typical overprotective brother mode as he lectured you on what you could or couldn’t do, and it gave you flashbacks to your first day of middle schools, where he had threatened off a little boy for gifting you a flower. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be getting into any fights this time around — but who knew? He had an unpredictable temper at times. “Be careful of boys!” Jeongseong warned passionately. “You can’t trust any of them, no matter how nice they look?”

You raised a brow. “But what about you and Hee?”

Jeongseong waved a dismissive hand. “Obviously, I’m your brother, so I don’t count. And Hee basically sees you as his little sister with how long he’s known you, so he doesn’t count, either.”

You froze. And all of a sudden, it was like a cloud of doom gathered over your head, threatening to drench you in your own self-pity. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest crush on him — and you had been trying to delude yourself into thinking he might feel the same one day.

But when Jeongseong raised a point, it was often a very good one. Heeseung had essentially spent two years in and out of your home, making it a second home of his own, and was as close as brothers with Jeongseong. He was a ‘safe’ man in Jeongseong’s eyes — because the way your brother saw it, there was no way Heeseung could hold any romantic feelings for you.

And you hated to admit that he might be right.

You glanced hesitantly over at Heeseung to find that he had a clenched jaw, his posture tense as he stared straight forward. You bit your lip, lowering your head. Now that you thought about it… Everything he did for you— was that just an act of brotherly affection? Did he really not see you as anything else?

“Anyway, we should head off,” Jeongseong said. “Have fun, and don’t forget to call if you need anything!”

With that, Jeongseong turned and opened your door, ready to leave. But at that moment, he noticed Heeseung was still standing where he was — unmoving. “Hey, man,” Jeongseong called out to him, “you okay there?”

You looked at him curiously, wondering the same thing. As if snapping out of a trance, Heeseung shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He turned to follow Jeongseong out the door, but paused for a moment to look at you. You spared a small smile, hoping to give off some semblance of normalcy. But to your disappointment, he simply averted your gaze and turned away.

He left without looking back, leaving you wondering what you had done wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You looked at your friend, who you had met on Orientation Day, and who you hit it off with immediately. Kim Sunoo was the same age as you and coincidentally from the same degree. So, the two of you quickly stuck together like glue. “You seemed out of it since we met up.”

You quickly shook your head, not wanting to bring down the mood. Even though Sunoo knew about your feelings for Heeseung (you couldn’t resist telling him, when he seemed invested in your story), you didn’t really want to think about his strange behaviour. This was a day out for the two of you to enjoy. Remembering this, you smiled. “It’s nothing!” you assured. “Just missing home.”

Sunoo, thankfully, bought the lie (mostly because it was actually true), nodding sympathetically. “I get it. I miss my family a lot, even if it’s only been a day.” After a moment, he then made a noise like he remembered something. “By the way— if you’re not too tired, there’s a party at the dorms tonight. Some seniors that I know are holding it for us first years. Wanna come?”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” You hadn’t been invited to parties much in high school, because everyone knew you were related to Park “Overprotective” Jeongseong. Besides, your parents would have never allowed it. But now, you were slowly realising how much freedom you had as an adult. Just once, you felt like experiencing this part of your youth you never got to taste. “Sure.”

Hopefully, if nothing else, the party would be a nice distraction…

“You know Lee Heeseung?”

Or not.

Upon arriving at the venue where the supposed party was being held (which happened to be in the common rooms, meaning a relatively short walk), Sunoo had immediately dragged you over to a group of older girls, who were all either second or third years. You chatted with them awkwardly until they brought up the name all too familiar with you, fawning over his good looks. And Sunoo, who sensed the sudden spark of jealousy in your eyes, had been quick to subtly stake your claim on him.

Not that he needed to, considering Heeseung wasn’t yours…

“He’s my brother’s best friend,” you explained. Though you wished you kept your mouth shut, after seeing the glint of excitement in the senior’s eye. “Why?”

One of the other seniors grasped your hands. “Then do you think you can introduce me to him? He’s totally my type!”

You frowned.

“Oh, I forgot I was supposed to meet with some other friends,” Sunoo suddenly said. He then turned to you, grabbing your wrist out of the senior’s hands. “Come on, [_____]. They said they wanted to meet you, too.” With one last half-assed apology, Sunoo dragged you away from the seniors. He glanced at you, frowning at your vacant expression. “Sorry about them.”

You shook your head. “No. It’s okay…”

You supposed you should have seen this coming. Who wouldn’t want to be close to Lee Heeseung? It was only natural. But deep inside, you couldn’t help but wonder, if there was someone — someone like those pretty seniors you were with — who Heeseung wanted to be close to. After all, you knew he was single, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t taken. So who? Who was it?

“Little Park?”

You immediately froze in your tracks, causing Sunoo to pause right beside you. That nickname… Only one person ever used it. And there was no mistaking that voice. You immediately turned around, as your body was driven by some subconscious reaction to respond to him. Your eyes widened when you met gazes with Heeseung.

And he did not seem happy.

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes landed on Sunoo’s hand on your wrist. His hand clenched in a fist by his side, and his jaw was clenched. He was as gorgeous as always, with his silver hair shining under the dim lighting of the common room, creating a nice contrast with the black shirt that clung to his form, moulding itself perfectly over his muscles. But the thing you noticed first was not the glare in his eyes, or his beauty.

It was the busted lip he was sporting, and the purple bruise on his cheek.

Your eyes widened, a gasp slipping past your lips. You didn’t know when Sunoo had dropped your wrist, but you didn’t care in that moment. You immediately ran to Heeseung, eyes trained on the injuries on his face. “Hee!” you gasped out, raising your hand to his face, your fingers hovering over his injury. “What happened to you? Your face…”

Heeseung looked down at you, sparing a weak smile, all his precious displeasure fading from his face. “Don’t worry.” He lifted his hand to grab your own, eyes holding the same light it always did when he spoke to you. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” You said. And it was probably the first time you ever raised your voice against him. But he simply grinned even wider, despite the pain he must feel from the cut on his lip. “Come on, we’re going to get your wound treated!” You turned around, facing Sunoo who was watching the two of you with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, but we have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Sunoo barely got to say goodbye before you were bounding up the stairs. You pulled Heeseung behind you and he followed you like a lost puppy as you navigated your way up the stairs, towards your room at the end of the hallways. You threw the door open, making Heeseung sit on the bed as you looked around at your unpacked boxes.

“Where did I put my First Aid Kit?”

You went to reach for one of the boxes, only to be stopped by Heeseung’s hands on your own. “Hold up, Hee,” you said absently, not looking at his face. “Let me just—”

“[____].”

You froze at the sound of Heeseung’s voice calling you by name — your actual name. Not ‘Little Park’, the name that ensured he only looked at you as an extension of his friendship with your brother, but your name. Just you. You slowly turned around, wonderstruck at how the sound of your name on his tongue was both unfamiliar but right.

Heeseung smiled at you, and you thought at that moment that the look in his eyes tonight were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. “Just stop for a moment, okay?”

Before you could say another word, Heeseung was pulling you towards him, so that you were standing between his legs. Your eyes widened, and your breath hitched in your throat. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you, eyelids hooded as his chocolate orbs stared into yours, looking as if he was trapped in some daze. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at the bruise on your cheek.

“But your wounds,” you whispered, worry causing your lips to tug downwards in a frown, despite the way your soul sang at your proximity.

“I deserve them,” Heeseung whispered in return. “If I were Jay, I would beat me up, too.”

You froze, your blood going ice cold. “My brother did this to you?”

Your brother — Heeseung’s best friend — Jeongseong was the one responsible for the injuries on Heeseung’s face? Just what had happened in the few hours that you didn’t see the two of them? What was severe enough to warrant punches between all-but-blood brothers?

“I let him,” Heeseung said. “I said something I knew would piss him off, and gave him a free shot at me.” Heeseung laughed, as if recalling some fond memory. “He always did like bargain deals…”

You stared at Heeseung, dumbfounded. “What did you say to my brother that was bad enough to earn you this?”

Heeseung stared at you in silence. You stared back. The room was filled with a heavy tension as Heeseung’s eyes flickered down to your parted lips, his fingers curling into your waist. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes wandered up to yours.

“I told him that I liked his sister.”

You gasped silently, your eyes widening comically at Heeseung’s words. What did you even say to them? It was funny how you had been chasing after him for so long, and yet never imagined what might happen given the possibility that Lee Heeseung would feel the same way for you. And now that it was happening, you were helpless to react, your throat closing up and swallowing your words.

Then you remembered his strange reaction to Jeongseong’s words this morning, and if all made sense. “So this morning… You weren’t mad at me?

Heeseung smiled seeing your reaction. “I could never be mad at you,” he said, thumbs caressing your sides. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way… I was more frustrated with myself.” You gave him a questioning look. “I just knew I couldn’t keep hiding from the truth any longer: Your brother is smart, but he was wrong this time. He said I didn’t like you — but I do. I have for a while now.”

You didn’t even know what to say. If this was even real, or if you would wake up in your bed any second now with a hangover and the taste of vomit on your tongue. But all you knew right then and there was that you didn’t care if this was a dream or not. All you could think about was the you from two years ago, who had fallen for this man for the first time because she had looked into his eyes just like you were doing now.

“And what did my brother say after he punched you?” you asked breathlessly, your heart wrenching now that you knew just exactly why Heeseung was in the state he was.

Heeseung gave you that smile of his. The same one from when you meet. The same one you fell for. The same one you dreamt about every day since.

“He made me promise to love you like my life depended on it,” Heeseung replied. “And that’s exactly what I did.”

You don’t know who moved first. But within a split second, your lips met Heeseung, and a sharp hiss was ripped from his throat from the pressure on the cut on his lips. But before you could even think about pulling away, his hand found the nape of your neck, melding your lips further into his own.

Heeseung stole your kisses like it was breathing in air. You let him take them the same way he took your heart.

“I like you,” you whispered as you pulled away from him. “I like you so much.”

When the two of you fully parted form each other, you looked into Heeseung’s eyes to see an unfamiliar fire in them. “Before I ask you to be mine, I just have one question.” Heeseung smirked coolly as you swallowed nervously under his gaze. “About the guy you were with earlier…”

You blinked, surprised. “Sunoo? What about him?”

“You’re not a thing, are you?”

You raised your eyebrows, taking in Heeseung’s expression. The green in his eyes, and the distaste in his tone. You burst out into laughter upon seeing his jealousy shine through for the first time since meeting him, a warm feeling settling over your chest.

“I’m flattered you think every man I come across is interested in me…” you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

Heeseung smiled softly, a distant memory of the past flashing through his mind. “Not anymore,” he claimed, before his lips found yours again.

You smiled into the kiss, too starstruck to do anything else.

All of a sudden, it was like you were seventeen again, and he was nineteen, playing guitar in your brother’s room. And just like then, you knew, your world was never going to be the same. With Lee Heeseung by your side, it could only be better.

✉️ PS 노트 ! this fic inspired by the drama ‘hidden love’ and the novel ‘secretly, secretly, but unable to hide it’. the pretty dividers with the bows are by @/v6que, but the header was made by me!

[moon-reblogs]

LOVE AT FIRST SPEED — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: World champion, record breaker, winner of hundreds of races, what does Lee Heeseung want other than that? Apparently, love. Being the greatest when it comes to racing doesn't mean that he naturally has a flourishing love life. True, there were many girls already lining up for him, but he knew none of them were truly sincere, leaving him devoid of love and unconditionally craving it. That was until everything changed when he met you, his new next door neighbour that doesn’t even know he’s a famous F1 racer. Three dates. three different countries, but only one chance to make you his.

OR! in which a world champion tries scoring the girl next door.

presenting ... driver of scuderia ferrari f1 team

PAIRINGS: F1 driver!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers/neighbours to lovers, love at first sight, he falls first but she falls harder, formula one au, sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, mentions of alcohol, drinking and partying, lots of feelings being self questioned, slight miscommunications/misunderstandings

WC: 29k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's finally ... here ... please leave your feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated !! your feedbacks will mean a lot to me since i'm lowkey second guessing if this is good LMAO enjoy ♡

part 1 of 'no brakes' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2024 all rights reserved.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, LATE 2022

Lee Heeseung was drunk.

Going out with the boys was probably a mistake. Look, it was off season and everyone was back in Monaco, so it definitely sounded like a great idea to go out for a night out, right? Wrong. 

Letting Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Yeonjun and some of the other drivers drag him to a well known club in the city was his first mistake of the night. The second was accepting all of the shots they offered, acting as if the celebrations of him winning his third world championship wasn’t over yet. The alcohol that took over his senses only made him stumble to the dance floor, dancing wildly with girls surrounding him, not giving a care if a camera was capturing everything. That was his third mistake.

By the end of the night, every one of them were equally shitfaced. It wasn’t a great look, and he was sure their personal trainers weren’t going to be happy at all. Heeseung, in particular, was taking it better than the rest, though still slurring and stumbling around, at least he managed to tell his address fully to the taxi driver. 

Getting dropped off at the lobby looking absolutely destroyed was humbling. He kept his head low, reminding himself that he had a reputation to maintain and went for the elevator, pressing the number of his floor. He was leaning against the wall, holding it for support as he slowly sobered up, trying his best to feel around his body for his keycard.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, unable to remember where it was with that hazy mind of his. 

The elevator stopped at his floor with a ‘ding’, grabbing his attention from his ongoing search for the moment. He trudged along the quiet hallway, dragging his feet and mumbling his regrets. One thing’s for sure was that he should not rely on Jake for claiming it was a ‘light party’. Light party my ass.

Standing in front of his door to the apartment, he was dying to get in and crash into his comfortable bed. However, he remembered what he was struggling to find: his keycard. God, why me, he thought. 

His head was beginning to spin and it was not helping. He was slipping his hand into his back pockets, shirt pockets that didn’t even exist because he’s wearing a button up, then his socks, which was absolutely insane. No, Lee Heeseung was turning insane. At one point, he let out a sigh and leaned his head on his door, swearing that he was about to collapse out of fatigue.

“Uh—are you okay?” Was that a voice coming from the pits of his head? It couldn’t be, it was a woman’s voice. “Mister?”

Heeseung turned around in a blink of an eye, almost letting out a yelp in shock when his eyes landed on you. Even in his drunken daze, he was still able to make out how pretty you were. There you were, standing in a party dress that was enough to tell him you were out clubbing too, makeup that was intact and heels in one hand, creating a small height difference between him and you.

“Huh?” That was probably the dumbest thing he could let out at that moment. Wake up, he cursed at himself. “You’re not that old lady,”

“She moved away,” you guessed he was referring to the old lady that sold you her apartment, the one that was next to this … guy. “I’m guessing you were not here a few months ago to even realise I’m your new neighbour?”

Well, no, Heeseung was busy winning his championship in Abu Dhabi during then. 

He didn’t say that though, instead he shrugged, liking the fact that you were oblivious he was someone well known. “I travel for work, so not really. My apologies,”

“I see,” you nodded your head, continuously cautious, he could see that. “Do you have trouble entering your own home?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You were searching for something—even in your socks,”

“Oh,” he licked his lips, currently embarrassed. “I—uh—don’t know where my keycard is,”

“Have you searched your pockets?”

“Yes,”

“Wallet?”

Heeseung paused. “No …”

“Try searching, I’m sure it’s there somewhere,” you were so confident in saying that, which made Heeseung uneasy and doubtful. How would you know it was there and he didn’t? 

You pulled out your own keycard, pressing against the sensor and your door unlocked with a click, but before you went in and left Heeseung behind, you scrunch your nose up. “You should probably sober up … and also wash away the perfumes on your shirt. It’s heavy,”

Once you shut your door, Heeseung scoffed. He lowered his head to the sleeves of his button up shirt and inhaled, the smell of perfumes from the girls he danced with clung to the fabric desperately. He hated that you weren’t completely wrong. Then, he reached for his wallet, rolling his eyes at your voice in his head, but was once proven right again when he saw his glistening keycard there. For fuck’s sake.

Now, he was guessing he probably set a bad impression on you, making you think he was some stupid womaniser. Gosh, the way your eyes narrowed at him was burnt into his mind. 

Heeseung was not getting much sleep that night.

“Slept well?”

Fate had a play in hand, somehow setting Heeseung and you up by having the both of you exiting your apartment at the same time. The only difference was you being fresh and awake, ready to start your day while Heeseung was the total opposite. Hungover, body sore and dark circles under his eyes.

“Great,” he seethed out. 

No, Heeseung didn’t have a ‘great’ sleep. He was plagued by you. Yes, you. The neighbour that he didn’t even know existed until yesterday, the same one that had to witness him drunk and turning insane. It was funny knowing you probably didn’t even like him, but somehow, that was what bothered Heeseung. Everyone liked him. But you, apparently, or so your vibe told.

“Someone didn’t have their lucky charms this morning, huh?” you reached into your tote bag, Heeseung’s curious gaze following your every move. “Here,” you tossed a protein bar at him, the same brand that he eats occasionally. What were the odds?

“Don’t just stare at it. Eat it.”

Apparently Heeseung was staring at it too longingly, and until he heard what you said, he snapped up to look at you, mouth slightly agape. “Thanks,”

You smiled. You fucking smiled. Heeseung didn’t expect your teeny smile was enough to spur him on. This was cheesy, too cliche and very predictable. Did he think he was in a reenactment of Notting Hill except it’s called Monte Carlo instead? The feeling of falling at first sight was foreign to him, to have a crush on your neighbour was new to him, and he wasn’t going to take this well.

“Eat up.” you waved a little, turning your back to him and rushed for the elevator, leaving him on his own again. 

The small encounter was enough to make Heeseung more curious about you. He knew nothing about you, you were his neighbour, his goddamn neighbour, but it felt like he was in high school with a crush again. Was it even a crush? Was it admiration? Heeseung didn't want to overthink it, it's too early in the morning for that.

He made his way to his sleek Ferrari 488 Pista Spider, the one car that he was devoted to. It was easily recognisable in the streets of Monaco, the design was a custom made and a favourite of his, any fans could make out that Lee Heeseung was the one driving it.

The usual bunch, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon had invited him out to brunch. Heeseung knew damn well all of them were just as hungover as he was, or even worse, he thought they were quite brave for stepping out of the house. 

Making a few detours for grocery and miscellaneous items prompted him to be later than the rest. He was rushing to the cafe, seeing the back of his friends' heads from a distance. They were sitting at an outside table, as they always preferred, but what caught his attention was an extra head next to Jake's blond hair.

Was that the girl who followed Jake home yesterday? He wouldn't even second question it.

He was wrong. 

Making his way to the table, Heeseung greeted them with a good morning before looking at their faces. Well, the boys looked like them, but the girl, oh … the girl.

It was you. His neighbour. What were you doing sitting next to Jake? Seriously, Jake?

“Hey, man, sorry for not letting you know earlier but I invited my friend, is that okay with you?” Jake grimaces apologetically, offering a smile as compensation.

“It's alright,” Heeseung stared briefly at you, then took a seat next to Jay, the one opposite that faced you.

“Heeseung, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Heeseung,” Jake did a gesture between you and Heeseung with his hands, while you and him both looked at each other with a 'what the fuck is going on' expression.

“Hi—”

“She's my next door neighbour,” Heeseung didn't know why he blurted that out, he didn't even let you finish. 

The boys and you stared at him, incredulous but to a different extent. You had annoyance in your eyes, the others had disbelief. Maybe you were mad he interjected, but he felt he needed to get that out. 

“Uh—sorry,”

“He's your neighbour?” Jake cackled, his gaze flickering between you and Heeseung. “No, wait, you're his neighbour?”

You and Heeseung nodded in unison.

“Which means you guys knew each other already?”

“Not exactly,” you said, sipping a little of your latte. “I didn’t know his existence until yesterday, let alone his name,”

“Ditto,”

“Wow,” Sunghoon laughed at the side, both him and Jay witnessing everything in entertainment.

“Shocking,” Jay nudged Sunghoon.

“You guys will get along better than you’ll expect,” Jake said coolly, speaking from a deep knowing of you and Heeseung’s personality traits. However, you and Heeseung seemed doubtful, but didn’t comment on it. 

“So … if they are F1 drivers, that means you are one too,” you pointed a finger at him, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Yup,” Heeseung replied, popping his ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Three times world champion too,” Jake jerked his chin towards Heeseung, a look of pride on his face. “He’s literally insane,”

“It’s nothing,” Heeseung suddenly felt like he was put on the spot. Usually, he would be immune to all these compliments thrown at him, but this time with you around, he wanted to be lowkey. 

“Did you hear him?” Jay scoffed, making the others, you and Heeseung himself included, laugh. 

The conversation was interrupted with the waiter serving your orders. Pastries, bread, and Heeseung’s go-to hangover cure, a mixed fruit smoothie were placed on the table. Soon, everyone got comfortable and dug in, enjoying the cool weather of Monte Carlo.

“What brings you here, Y/N?” Heeseung finally got the confidence to ask you a question, letting his curiosity win over him. 

“I moved here because of my new job—"

“Because of me,” Jake chimed in unceremoniously, catching everyone else's attention at the table. Now, what did he mean by that?

“Basically, Jake hired me as his personal trainer,”

“And assistant,” Jake added, increasing Heeseung’s fascination and wonder. Since when did Jake change his personal trainer? Oh wait, he mentioned it. Something about wife’s pregnancy that his ex trainer needed time off. How could Heeseung forget this crucial information? 

“I’m going to have to keep him in check every race,”

“We’re glad you’re coming along,” Sunghoon clapped his hands, genuine happiness in his smiley features. “It’s time someone put this guy in place,” he snorted, pulling a laugh out of you. 

Your laugh. All it took was your laugh for Heeseung to disassociate from everything happening around him and place his focus on you. The wrinkles around your eyes when your lips stretched into a grin, smile lines adorning your face that he found breathtaking. Every part about you and your happiness was enough to make him smile as well.

Pause. Was he hearing himself clearly? 

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Jake rolled his eyes at Sunghoon, not appreciating the comment targeted at Jake’s known party behaviours.

“You know what I mean,” 

At that, Jake eyed you nervously, already having a feeling that you were going to be strict on him, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Heeseung was dying internally. He wanted to speak to you, but how was he able to when he wasn’t close to you? Instead, he was stuck with the two bozos, half-heartedly chewing on his croissant as he and the guys listened to you talk about your job and degree.

Whatever Heeseung thought possibly of you dissipated. The sharp gaze you gave him that night disappeared once he came to the realisation that you were nothing like what his mind made you out to be: scary and hard to get along with. Heeseung would admit, he makes the worst assumption of the people he first met, but some were true, as for you, you were nothing like that. He could tell you were warming up to him, probably also having the same misconception of him in your head. 

Once there were nothing but crumbs left on the plates, with the bill paid and everyone’s stomach filled, you and the guys got up from the table, making an exit. The awkward part arrived. Jay and Sunghoon were leaving on their own, Jake too, but what about you?

“Do you want me to drop you off—” Jake offered after Jay and Sunghoon were out of sight, leaving you, him waiting outside and Heeseung, who was still lingering in the cafe. You shook your head.

“You literally live on the opposite side of where I am, I don’t think that’s convenient,” you poked his shoulder, an unapproving frown pulled at your lips. “I’ll just hail a cab same like this morning,”

Clear worry was evident in Jake’s eyes. “You sure?”   

“I can drive you back,” Heeseung suddenly appeared by Jake's side, an innocent look on his face as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “We stay next to each other anyway,”

“Yeah, sure, thank you,” you breathed out in relief, initially being nervous at the thought of having to be alone, thankful Heeseung came in to save your ass.

“Now that’s settled, I’ll see you for training soon, Y/N. And Hee, you should hit the simulator soon, practice so you don’t get rusty!”

“Shut up,” Heeseung clicked his tongue in annoyance, but couldn’t resist a cheeky grin.

“Alright, bye guys!”

Jake soon disappeared around the corner, and the air turned thick with awkwardness. You didn’t mind Heeseung’s presence, but honestly, you didn’t know this man, or at least not enough. Without Jake’s familiarity and his comforting aura around you and Heeseung, you were unable to function well. Not when he’s your neighbour that you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot with, and truthfully, he was hot, to simply put it. You know how hot people tend to scare you? Yeah, that was him. Curse Jake for having hot friends.

“Shall we get going?”

You snapped out of your momentary inner monologue, nodding and hoisting your bag higher up your shoulder, letting Heeseung take the lead. Even though he was leading you towards his car, he didn’t try walking faster than you, constantly maintaining the same speed as you. You noticed him taking peeks at you occasionally when his pace started to speed up, then he would slow down again. It was a small detail that you took notice, appreciating it more than you should. 

The way to his car was quite a walk. He was walking beside you, always on the outside and made sure you walked on the inside. Was he always like this with everyone else? It was quiet between you two, but it was a comfortable silence. He was aware of your presence, you were aware of his; both were just too scared to be the first to break the ice, or so you thought.

“How did you meet Jake?” 

“Hm?” You snuck a glance at him, processing his question. “Oh, Jake. He’s my cousin,”

“Your—what?”

A humorous laugh slipped out of you. You loved this part, where everyone gets shocked at you casually dropping the news about your blood relation with Jake. Heeseung, on the other hand, realised that he wasn’t actually familiar with Jake’s family besides his parents and siblings. Seeing Heeseung being thoroughly shocked, you took the opportunity to continue.

“Yeah, he’s my cousin. Usually people don’t expect us to be related so I totally get your reaction,” a smile rests upon your lips, one that Heeseung didn’t miss. “I’m an only child, and he was the cousin that constantly played with me, so that’s mainly why we grew close,”

Heeseung unknowingly smiled at the thought of little Jake and you running around. He knew what his best friend was like, and realising the fact that he maintained the same outgoing personality was absolutely heartwarming. 

“Growing up, I knew he wanted to be an F1 driver, I’d occasionally tag along to his karting races. Soon, his F3, F2 races. It all went by like a blur, and suddenly he’s racing for an F1 team. That’s probably when I came to the realisation that I wanted to be a trainer too, I guess it was mainly because of that and him,” you shrugged, shying under the constant eye contact with Heeseung. He was all ears, never interrupting you once. 

“And now you get to tag along to every one of his races full time,” 

“Exactly,”

“Hey,” a thought suddenly sprang to his mind, wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows. “If you knew Jake was an F1 driver, then how did you not know I was one too?”

You snorted, shrugging your shoulders a little dramatically. “Well, sorry Mr Famous, I don’t like constantly watching cars drive in circles,”

“They’re not circles!”

“To me it is,” you heard a huff coming from him, laughing quietly under your breath. “I only kept up with Jake, but I guess I’ll start keeping up with you now, Mr three times world champion,”

“I’m honoured,” he placed a hand on his chest, flashing a toothy grin that made his nose crinkle, the sight unintentionally making your heart skip a beat. “You’ve got to support Ferrari,” he was referring to his own team, a sense of pride and honour as he said it, even you could tell how much he loved them.

“I don’t think Jake’s going to be happy about that,” you slowed down your steps as you approached a sports car that you figure was Heeseung’s, the Ferrari emblem shining brightly. “But, maybe I’ll have to make an exception,”

“You won’t regret it,” he said confidently, winking at you playfully, which earned him an eye roll from you. The change compared to his personality earlier on didn’t go unnoticed by you. The clumsy, shy and dorky him had a confident and cocky side to him. Noted.

Before you could reach down to open the door to the passenger side, Heeseung’s hand reached for it first, almost like it was his second instinct with how natural he was. He pulled the door open for you, and you turned to look at him, ignoring the minimal distance in between. Holding his eye contact for more than two seconds (yes, you counted) was intense. It took you everything to break his stare and enter his car, not missing his hand at the top of your head as you got in. 

You watched as he circled the car to get to his side, waiting patiently and sneakily looking around the interior. The hood of the car was closed, and you imagined for a second what it would be like to drive with the hood open, feeling the wind brush against your face. It was a two seater car, despite that, it was big and comfortable enough inside, the seats had you melted into it the moment you got in. So, this was what expensive cars felt like. 

Heeseung entered the car with a quiet grunt, revving the engine to a start and turned his head to check up on you, a small smile appearing on his face upon meeting your gaze. He caught you staring at him, didn’t he? 

“Nice car,” you complimented a little too awkwardly, which also made Heeseung chuckle stiffly, seemingly caught off guard too. 

“Thank you,” he smoothed his hand over the steering wheel, then pulled the car into drive. “Question, can I ask you something?”

You arched an eyebrow, wondering what was coming your way. Heeseung took that as a sign to continue, keeping his concentration on the road but actually, he just didn't want to face you as he asked the question.

“Be honest, that night when I was drunk, did that give you a bad impression? ‘Cause I swore your eyes was yelling it,”

Nothing prepared you for that. Not that it was bad, just unexpected. Moreover, you were surprised at him remembering the happenings that night, and not only that, to overthink it too? You couldn't blame him though, you would too.

“Okay, I'm being honest. Yeah, kind of? I thought you were some random drunk and I was scared for my life until I saw you were trying to get in—which I also thought you were breaking in at first—”

“That's harsh,”

“I had some drinks myself too, alright?” You snorted, remembering that night where you weren't fully drunk but intoxicated enough to think your next door neighbour, whose existence you didn't even know, was getting robbed. “You seemed fine, just maybe the heavy smell of perfume coming from you gave off a bad, and also odd first impression,”

“I swear I’m not some playboy,” it was a genuine misconception for most. Heeseung gave off the vibes of some womaniser that thinks he has power, money and influence just because he was a top Formula One racer, but truth be told, he was the opposite. The people closest to him knew that, not the one that the media created.

Judging from your sceptical raise of an eyebrow, Heeseung had a feeling you were doubting him. He feigned a shocked expression “Did you really think I’m the kind to bring a woman into my bed each night?”

“I didn’t say that! You’re a total opposite of what I thought you were—in a good way,”

“But your look was intending that you thought of it, about me being a playboy of some sort,”

“Maybe just a little, teensy bit,”

“I’m hurt,”

“It’s the aura,” you scrambled to pick up at the pieces, all while Heeseung enjoyed teasing you. “I mean, you’re cute, rich and talented, everybody wants you,”

“Doesn’t mean I want them either,” he pressed his lips in a flat line, shrugging lightly. Beside him, your eyes twinkled. What he said shouldn’t have set some small hope in you. Dude, you barely know him! But, you couldn’t help wanting him secretly. “Also, did you just call me cute?”

“I—” you sputtered, not expecting him to catch that. Heeseung was grinning like crazy. Oh, he was so definitely enjoying poking fun at you. You crossed your arm, turning your nose up at him. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,”

“I’m pretty sure you did,” he let out a chortle, finding your denial humorous and enjoyable. Just simply being with you was enjoyable. “I’m honoured … yet again,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, feeling your cheeks heating up just a bit. No way he caught you slacking like that. How did you even manage to pull that anyway? Whatever. 

The conversation soon died down, letting the music from the radio overtake the silence between you and him. On the drive back, you couldn’t take your eyes off the bypassing streets and buildings. You were in Monaco. That itself sounded surreal and unbelievable, and something you didn’t have in plan until now. The change was unexpected, but maybe it was something you needed.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect myself to be here right now,” you said out of the blue, speaking your mind ever so casually. You didn’t even realise yourself getting comfortable with Heeseung overtime, everything just seemed too natural when it comes to hanging around Heeseung. Was that normal?

“What do you mean?”

“I originally thought I’ll end up as a trainer in some football club since it was something I wanted,”

Another fact that surprised Heeseung. He glanced at you. “Football fan?”

“Kinda, I guess you could say that,”

“Maybe it’s fate,” he decided, a lighthearted assumption that you once had in mind as well. 

“Or maybe Jake saw I was unemployed and took the chances,” you wondered jokingly, but also having your suspicions. 

Heeseung let out a laugh in incredulity, shaking his head. “Either way, it was meant to be, you being here and working for Jake,”

Nodding a little, you considered his words. It was most likely meant to be. Monaco, Jake, meeting Heeseung. Something was in store for you. “Well, I’m quite glad,” you purse your lips and paused, “I got to meet you too,”

“Huh—” his head snapped to look at you in a flash, the look on his face telling you he thought he might’ve heard you wrongly. That’s when he had to regain his composure and maintain a stable breathing, “me too.”

The weight of your words and Heeseung’s reply were on each of your shoulders individually, both of you were unable to get the moment from earlier out of your minds. Leading up to the part where you and him reached the floor of your apartments, he walked you to your door and stood there, waiting for you to turn to him, which you did after breathing in a deep breath. You met his eyes, ones that resembled a bambi, glistening under the dim light.

“Today was fun, thanks for letting me join,”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you joined, actually,” he slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, hiding the fact that his palms were sweating. “If you didn’t, we wouldn’t have properly met and on a much friendlier term,”

“That’s true,” you clutched onto the straps of your bag tighter. “And this won’t be our last meeting either,”

“Definitely,”

“I have a question,”

“Shoot,”

“This might sound odd but I feel like we didn’t properly introduce ourselves,” you looked at him expectantly. “Jake kinda introduced us to each other and I thought it would be wrong to not really get to know one another more personally. You get what I mean? Since we’re neighbours and everything—am I rambling?”

Heeseung grinned at your nervous and jittery demeanour. “Kinda,” he let out a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You’re not entirely wrong,” he extended his hand outward, “I’m Lee Heeseung,”

“Y/N L/N,” you accepted his hand, the coarseness of his skin from the excessive amount of driving over the years met your smoother palms, though it was a short moment, you could feel the contrast of his hand to yours in terms of size as well.

“It’s nice meeting you, neighbour,”

“You too. Heard you’re some hotshot formula one driver,”

“Nah, they’re all just rumours, I’m just your friendly average neighbourhood guy,”

“Who delivers milk,”

“Newspaper,” he corrected, playing along with the joke with a the widest smile, “Some say I might be spiderman,”

“Now you’re going too far,” 

It was natural. All of it was. The flow of the conversation and the way you joked with each other. When you broke out laughing first, Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh along with you, the sounds of your laughter filled the empty hallway.

You didn’t want this to end. Talking to him and staring at him, no, you wished you could continue on. Yet, the words that left your lips were the opposite of how you felt. “I think I should head on in, I probably need a shower,”

“I—uh—same,” a breathy chuckle escaped Heeseung’s pretty lips, and hearing it only made you let out one as well. He was so dorky and awkward, it was cute, and a total contrast of what you had expected of him. 

“See you, Mr World Champion,”

“Bye, pretty,”

Pretty? 

Heeseung’s eyes widened a fraction, shock crossing his face. Did he just … call you that? It was the truth though, a truth that he unknowingly let slip. Lee Heeseung, you should’ve kept that in your mind and not the tip of your lips. He was chastising himself, but you, however, felt your knees weakened as you pressed your keycard onto the sensor.

He called you pretty. Pretty. Pretty!

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out right before you managed to shut your door, narrowly missing you as you were busy having a serious conversation with yourself regarding Heeseung’s pet name. You peaked your head out of the door, an expecting expression staring back at him. “Uh—if you need anything or any help, I’m always next door. Just��ring my doorbell or something, I’ll be there,”

What a sweetheart.

“Thank you, Hee, likewise,” you casted him your sweetest smile, then waved briefly and closed your door with a small click.

Hee? Hee! Oh my God. That just left your lips.

Heeseung couldn’t believe it himself. First, he called you ‘pretty’, and now, you called him ‘Hee’. He was winning, and never in a lifetime would he expect the day where he felt his heartbeat speeding up because of someone instead of racing.

Side by side, in different rooms with only a wall separating you and Heeseung, the two of you had your backs pressed against the front door. Processing and reflecting on what had happened, from the words said and the gestures made, all of them were taken notice and stored in each of your head. Butterflies and beating hearts overtook your bodies, the prospect of someone to look forward to now plagued your minds.

It was the start of something.

Whether it was a coincidence or on purpose, none of you knew the truth.

The times you've bumped into one another was more than imagined. Throwing out the trash? Oh, Heeseung just got back from the gym, looking absolutely scrumptious and waving at you. Going out for a morning jog? Heeseung coincidentally was doing the same and eventually joined you. 

Were you complaining though? No, you took every possible chance to see him, even if it was a glimpse or a 'hi' or small talks.

There's one thing you've got to admit. He was unhealthy for you.

The months passed and the routine of the both of you bumping into each other somehow became standing outside the door to talk longer and progressed into exchanging phone numbers, which was long overdue in your opinion. 

What amazed you most was him texting you first. It didn't even take him long to do that, in fact, it was on the same night you gave him your number. Wow. It then turned into you huddled in bed, stalking his Instagram profile and laughing at the range of pictures taken.

Obviously, pictures of his career and wins were the majority, ones that even included Jake who shared the same podium as him. With more scrolls, you discovered more natural pictures of him. 'Boys night' or 'chill days' captions under selfies or group photos. The recent one was ‘Happy New Years!’ with him in a party hat accompanied by some of his friends. 

That night, you went to bed a little too giddy and hit the 'follow' button without thinking twice. The morning was even better when you saw him following you back, and that only prompted you to bake a load of cookies, which explained the reason why you were standing in front of his door, a box of fresh cookies in hand.

It took you only one ring of the doorbell to have Heeseung appear, a hand on the door, body dressed in a casual outfit of black tee and sweatpants. Okay, breathe.

“Hello, hello,” he greeted, not missing the box you were holding.

“Hey, kinda random but I baked some cookies and I have extras so I wanted to give them to you if it's alright,”

Heeseung visibly beamed at your offer, eyes shining like a little kid at the candy shop. “It's more than alright actually,” he looked behind his shoulder for a quick second, “if so, would you want to come in and have a quick bite? I'll give you my honest feedback,”

“That's very Gordon Ramsey of you, why not,”

He stepped aside to let you in, and you gladly did so, gaze flickering around to take in the interior of his apartment. All of which screamed his vibes. You caught sight of some formula one car figurines and a couple of trophies on a shelf. 

“Cool collection you've got here. How much were these?” You pointed at his trophies, joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. You knew it was received well after you heard him laughing breathily as the door clicked shut.

“Just a couple thousands, no biggy,” he played along, ushering you to join him at the table with a wave of his hand. "I see someone's been stalking me lately," he said once you sat next to him, and you almost wanted to leave the moment you heard it.

“I did not stalk you,” you defended yourself, even if it meant you were lying. “I just wanted to follow you since we're more closer now,”

You swore you saw Heeseung's eyes soften at the mention of you and him growing closer. He let out a hum. “For a moment I thought you were thinking about me,”

Spoiler: you were. 

It took Heeseung minimal effort for him to make you fluster. Judging from the way you nervously open the box and push it to him, actively ignoring what he just said. “Here,”

“Thanks, sweets,”

There it was again. Another pet name that slipped from his tongue way too naturally. It even caught him off guard, thinking he should be more appropriate around you since you two were just getting to know each other. But how could he? Not when you were giving him a hard time by taking over his mind.

“These look good,” he said upon opening up the box, a smile creeping up onto his lips. Without hesitation, he grabbed one and took a bite out of it, savouring the taste of the fresh cookie. 

His nod of approval was the seal of validation for you. “Good, right?” him humming in agreement only made your smile wider in satisfaction and victory.

“Is this how you buy your way into people’s hearts? It’s definitely working for me,” Heeseung stared at the rest of the pile in awe, not realising how his words made you fluster even more. 

“Not just anybody,”

His gaze averted to you, a tinge of pink painted at his cheeks. It was unnoticeable in plain sight, but Heeseung himself could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. The feeling was overwhelming till the point he had to let out a cough. You were staring back at him innocently.

“Preseason starts soon. Testing in Bahrain,” you switched the topic, noticing the both of you being equally caught off guard. 

“Oh, yeah,” time passed by in a blur and Heeseung didn’t even realise February was coming along. “It’s really soon, huh? New Years was literally a few weeks ago? How was your New Year, by the way?”

“It was chill, didn’t do much since I don’t know many people here and all my colleagues are in other countries,” you mumbled the last part a little too sadly, but it was the truth, being alone in a different country was a new kind of foreign that hits harder than you expected.

“Ah. I didn’t know you were free and available that day, if I did, I would’ve invited you to the party the boys had—” that Instagram post, “You know what Jake said to me? ‘Take care of Y/N on my behalf too, she's new here and doesn't have many friends’,”

“He didn’t need to expose me like that,” you rolled your eyes in irritation at the mention of your cousin brother’s name, and what he said on top of that. It was partially the truth. “But it’s fine, Hee, he did bring it up over the phone but I chose to stay in. Too much testosterone concentrated in one party,”

“Not true, there were girls there too,”

“Does that make it sound better?”

Heeseung gulped, realising it in fact doesn’t make it sound better. “Well, no,”

“You athletes and partying and women scares me,” you played with the box, not wanting to imagine Heeseung with some other woman. There was one thing you had to remind yourself: stay away from athletes. For the reasons of them being unfaithful, rich, famous, snobby, womanisers, cocky—

“Not all of us are like that,”

Heeseung wasn’t like that. 

“I mean, yeah, I know some of the drivers are like that but most of us aren’t,” he continued on, seeing the worry dissolving from your face. He knew what he was doing, you were aware too, he was trying to give you assurance, catching on to the underlying meaning of your words. “The guys I hang around with have girlfriends and trust me, they’re loyal as ever, the ones that are single only actively search for girls. Even if so, they aren’t as playboy behaviour as you think,”

“Genuinely?”

“Genuinely,”

“What about you?”

Heeseung pursed his lips. “I haven’t been in a relationship in years,” he shrugged quite pathetically, “I’m practically living like a man who hasn’t felt a woman’s touch in years, because it’s mostly true,”

“Come on, really? The Lee Heeseung is bitchless? I don’t believe it,”

“Ask my friends! It’s been a while,” he laughed that eventually turned into a  sigh, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know, I admit, there were lots who tried hitting me up, but none of them truly meant it. You know what I mean? Especially after winning my championship, it felt like I could see through them and their true intentions. I just don’t think they see me as me. They see me as Formula One champion, famous and on the top of the world, but I’m none of that,”

Witnessing Heeseung getting vulnerable with you on a random 6 P.M. was not part of your schedule, but you were relieved he was comfortable enough to share these with you. Him, however, got panicked and didn’t even let you speak when he blurted out, “Sorry, shouldn’t have dumped everything on you—”

“No, no, it’s okay, Hee, really,” you reassured, almost placing your hand on his, but retreating your hand rather reluctantly. “It must be hard to not be able to have anyone see you as the way you truly are. You’re an amazing guy, genuinely. I might know you for a few months only but you’re one of the sweetest guys in my life, it makes sense why Jake regards you as a good friend,”

No words were able to form on Heeseung’s tongue, let alone speak. All he could do was stare at you, a kind of admiration and fascination in his bright irises. 

“I hope you can find the right person soon, even if it takes a while, it’ll be worth it knowing they’re the one,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, and in his perspective, he was sure he would’ve fell if he hadn’t snapped out of his daze. “I get you though. I might not be a world champion but I prioritise my job a lot. Some men don’t see that, at least the ones that I’ve dated. That’s why I’ve been single for quite some time too, and it’s not helping that I’m travelling a lot more now,”

This mild relationship trauma bonding session wasn’t what you two had in mind.

“Just as you said, it’ll be worth it when we find the one even if it takes some time,” Heeseung bumped your shoulder just as you did, a small grin displayed on his pretty face. “We’ll get there,”

“We will,”

What you didn’t know was Heeseung screaming at himself internally. ‘We’ll get there’? No, Heeseung didn’t want you with someone else. Hell, he doesn’t want to see other people either. He couldn’t believe himself for feeling this way. In what way was this a sane man’s behaviour? He’s far from sane.

Worst part of all was the two of you were equally running in circles together. You were interested in him and he was interested in you, but none of you dared to make any certain moves. Was it the fear? Was it because you were scared Heeseung might break your heart? Was it because Heeseung was scared you’d be affected by him? It was only going to be complicated the more it went on. But were you going to acknowledge that right now? Absolutely not. As they say, go with the flow, right? 

“Wanna grab dinner together? Heard there’s a new sushi place down the street,” you let Heeseung take the box from your hold, watching him place it on his coffee table so that he could enjoy it some other time. 

“Sounds good.”

There was no denial that something was growing between you and him.

Time passing by in a blur wasn't a great thing at all. Not to you and Heeseung anyway.

The oncoming F1 season starting soon only meant having to travel more and moments spent being next door lessened. This fact was apparent and undeniable, one that both you and Heeseung were aware of, and an unspoken urge to hang out more developed.

It first started when you invited Jake over for dinner after a hard training session, and miraculously on the way to your door, Heeseung showed up, just on time. He was about to leave for dinner, and Jake being Jake, he invited Heeseung to join you two with no hesitation. From then on, even without Jake’s presence, you found yourself having dinner at Heeseung’s house and watching movies together. Wild, wasn’t it? 

Maybe it was a good thing you were getting closer and more comfortable with him. You needed more friends other than just Jake in this line of work. For now, Heeseung was equally a great company that knew how to make you laugh and bring out the other side of you that you kept away from others.

However, no matter how close you were with him now, you were not prepared for whatever happened that day at all.

“Can I shower at your place?”

Opening the door to find a messy haired Heeseung in his grey sweatpants almost had you slamming the door in his face out of pure instinct. The sight was dangerous for you. You were just a girl after all. A man in grey sweatpants was a killer.

“Excuse me?”

“Hear me out,” he dramatically placed his hands out, putting on the most convincing look after seeing your doubtful expression. “My shower broke and the guy I called could only come by tomorrow to fix it, so I can't shower now, but, I need to shower,”

You considered for a moment, but unable to put up your front the more you glanced at Heeseung's pleading eyes and the desperation coming off him.

“Please, Y/N?”

“Of course, you can, Hee,” you patted him on the shoulder. “I'm not cruel enough to let you stink,”

“You're a lifesaver,” he sighed in relief, the desperation melted into gratefulness, you've never seen a man as desperate to shower as him at that moment. “I'll bring some ramen for us to eat after, sounds good?”

“Absolutely,”

“Great. Don't tell Andrew this though,” he was referring to his personal trainer, and you smiled.

“I won't, now hurry up before I close my door,”

Heeseung was quick to grab his items and rush into your apartment as if his life depended on it. A tray filled with his toiletries and a towel hung around his neck, he gave you a charming smile when he saw you approaching him after closing the door.

“Realised I've never been over much,” he said, eyes wandering around the corners of your living room.

“You never asked and I didn't offer, that's why I'm always at yours,”

“We need to switch it up soon, or else we'll have to wait months to be back,”

“Right,” you nodded a little solemnly at the mention of the long period of being away. “The bathroom's down the hallway, just walk straight and it's there,”

“Got it,” he snapped his fingers once he averted his gaze away from the direction you pointed. “Wait for me to cook the ramen,”

“You know I always do.”

That was exactly what you did: wait for him. You could hear the shower running in your quiet apartment, and it only made you think. He was in your house, showering. An F1 driver. If you told the you from months back that this would happen, you’d be livid.

The on and off conversation you had with yourself about Heeseung went on for a while until you heard some crashing noises that definitely came from the bathroom. Did he fall? There’s no way, right? The paranoia had you jumping out of your seat and jogging towards your bathroom. A knock from you once and there came Heeseung’s panicked voice.

“I’m okay! I dropped your shampoo bottle!” he yelled back, but most importantly was what he did next. He swung the door open, revealing him with only a towel hanging around his waist, hair visibly wet and his bare upper body on display. You shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t—

You did what you couldn’t do earlier, which was closing the door on Heeseung. This time around, you finally found the strength and pulled the handle, closing the door and shocking both you and him. Okay, you needed that though.

Despite doing all that, the damage was unfortunately already done and the image of his bare body was burnt into your mind. Were you complaining? Secretly, you weren’t. But you were worried awkward tension might mess everything up. 

Acting natural was what you could do, focusing on the screen of your phone even when you heard his footsteps against the wooden floor and his soft humming that was heading your way. Your attention strayed away from the video you were watching, instead focusing on his humming, recognising the song he was humming to. It was a Justin Bieber song. What was the title of the song? Off something? Off—

“What are you watching?” Heeseung was suddenly standing next to you, head leaned down and the scent of his shampoo invaded your senses. It wasn’t just that, his face was quite literally next to yours, one wrong move and you’d clash your face with his. When you turned your head, he was already staring at you, a smile tugged at his lips.

“J–Just a stupid video,” why did he have you stutter? Stand up!

“Looks interesting,” he noted, straightening up and was no longer torturously close to you. Thank God. “So, ramen?”

“Definitely,”

You watched as Heeseung shuffled around the kitchen, sitting leisurely on the high stool behind the counter. He, who insisted on being the one who cooked, was struggling to find the pots and pans, but somehow still managing throughout. As he waited for the ramen to cook, he had his hand resting on the counter top, standing faced towards you, gaze staying on you.

“Sorry for just now,” he started, getting your attention and your ears perked up. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,”

“It’s fine, Hee, stuff happens,” you tried your best at seeming nonchalant, but you were actually crumbling internally. You could tell the both of you were struggling. 

“Well, opening the door and seeing me half naked isn't exactly just 'stuff happens',” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but you couldn't help cracking a smile at his demeanour. 

“You're fine. Everything's okay. It's not like I'm banning you from my home and filing a restraining order,” you reassured him for the millionth time, watching the distress on his face gradually melt away and shoulders relaxing. “It was a slip up and I'm not uncomfortable at all. For a moment I thought you fell and something happened, I'm much more glad finding out you didn't,”

“Thank God that didn't happen,” he breathed out a sigh of relief, closing the fire now that the ramen was done cooking. His back was faced towards you, and all you could focus on rather shamelessly was the wideness of his back. 

“I would've saved you,”

“My knightress in shining armour,” he took a peek back at you, meeting your eyes for a split second before turning away, a smile plastered on his face evident from his voice. 

It didn't take long before Heeseung was done with the ramen, serving two bowls onto the counter and joining your side. He even prepared two boiled eggs for you that you specifically requested every time you had ramen together. It only took once for Heeseung to remember. 

“Are you prepared for the new season?” You asked, trying to crack your egg but was visibly struggling. Heeseung then wordlessly took it from you, knocking it against the counter and peeling it slowly.

He hummed. “Physically, yes. Mentally, no,”

You frowned at his response, eyes following his hands as he placed down one freshly peeled hard boiled egg and took the other to get rid of the shells. “How come?”

“I don't know. I think I've always felt like this before the season starts,” he pursed his lips thoughtfully, merely shrugging and taking bites of his ramen. “Think the car's going to be good—I hope—I'm bound to know in a week at preseason testing,”

“It will be! You'll do well,”

“You have that much faith in me?”

“Mr Three Times World Champion? Yeah,”

“Over your own cousin?”

“I have faith in both of you,” you scrunch your nose at the mention of Jake, having to pit him and Heeseung against each other was unfair 

Heeseung clicked his tongue, letting out a 'tch'. “Not fair,”

“It is fair,” you rolled your eyes at him, naturally and smoothly putting half an egg into his bowl that he gladly accepted.

“Will you mostly be at the Mclaren hospitality?”

“Not during races. Will probably be at the garage. Depends on Jake though, wherever he goes, I'll go,”

He finished the last of his ramen, nodding at your response. “It'll be easier for me to find you, then,”

“You're saying it as if you've got something up your sleeves,”

“Hey, I just wanna see you,” he threw his hands up in mock surrender, a sense of sincerity visible in his gaze. 

“I'm not opposed to that,”

“I'll come find you when you least expect it,” he noted, and you shook your head, laughing quietly. “I'll take you out to dinner too, wherever you want,”

“Even if it's just a simple ramen in your hotel room?”

“I'll be down,” Heeseung said without any hesitation. You couldn't tell if he genuinely loved ramen that much or he was just willing to be flexible for you. Maybe both.

“I'm looking forward to it,”

“It'll be on me, as a way of repayment,”

“You're already feeding me free ramen, I think you're fine,” you gestured at the two empty bowls that were only filled with leftover soup.

“Better food,” he added, eyebrows rising in an attempt to have you tempted as well. “At least, higher quality ramen," he paused, taking in your contemplating expression. “Come on, I want to do it, so let me, please?”

You were grinning at his determination, and at the same time, you couldn't entirely reject his willingness. “Well … if you're genuinely willing, then I'm alright with it,”

Heeseung exhaled in both relief and victory, smiling quite stupidly at his success. “Let me treat you, okay?”

You nodded, picking up the two bowls to place into the sink, swearing that you've got it and having to make him back down from washing them since had already done the cooking. “Yes, yes, Mr World Champion,”

He suddenly barked out a laugh, throwing his head back with ease. “You've got to stop calling me that. I might not even be World Champion this season,”

“Why not?” You steal a glance at him, noticing he was already watching you as you washed the dishes. 

“Who knows? Anything can happen.”

Anything can happen. 

Heeseung had a feeling that wasn't just referring to his upcoming season, but also insinuating a change between you and him. Anything could literally happen. That was what scared him but also excited him.

It was going to be a long season ahead.

– MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, 2023

You finally understood Heeseung's popularity. Might've taken a while, but now, your eyes have been opened. 

The season started off gracefully right after preseason testing. You found yourself running around quite a lot and being much busier than expected. The new life of working in a motorsport environment was humbling but also rewarding.

After the first two races, you slowly got used to the busier lifestyle, enjoying the trackside views and getting a better insight of what's happening in the garage. 

Other than that, you weren't surprised Heeseung had bagged the opening races easily. You watched from the Mclaren garage as he crossed the finish line, leading up to him celebrating at the podium with some familiar faces. Jake almost came in close, but unfortunately, missed out on the podium. Still, it was a strong start.

That was the reason why trying to speak to Heeseung face-to-face was much more of a struggle than you'd initially thought. He was big, like big big. He was always swarmed post race, fans crowded him and constantly busy with many other duties. The only time you got to speak was congratulating him for his win, and the rest was left to iMessage. 

Yet, you didn't miss his lingering gaze amongst the crowd of people. It was as if you were the only person there to him there and then.

The third race soon rolled around, meaning it was the Australian Grand Prix. Look, you loved Melbourne, but you swore your jet lag was about to take you out. It didn’t help that it was media day as well, which included having to partake in press conferences, video shoots and other promotional related things. Your legs weren’t getting much breaks either knowing you’d have to follow Jake around to all these.

Being Jake’s assistant almost felt like you were babysitting a child sometimes. The morning of media day was rough. You couldn’t find Jake after leaving him at the garage for only a few minutes, only to come back to engineers and no driver that resembled a puppy in sight. 

A headache wasn’t the ideal to welcome the first thing in the morning. You decided to rush out and walk around, texting him feverishly as you rounded the place. It was then you rounded a corner and focused too much on your phone—people were right about not walking while using phones—when you bumped into someone.

Heeseung.

His expression contorted into a mixture of shock, relief and happiness. You, yourself, felt like your breath was knocked out of you. Just staring at him was enough to have you rooted to the ground.

“Hi,” you exhaled, not giving a care if you looked abysmal at that moment, dressed in a papaya coloured work uniform.

“Hey,” his eyes visibly brightened up, a sweet smile slowly spreading. “What's got you so busy with your phone?” He pointed at your phone, genuine curiosity sparkled in his irises.

“Jake, that's what,” you groaned, waving your phone in annoyance. “He disappeared from the garage and he's supposed to be getting ready for press,”

Heeseung suddenly looked guilty, which only prompted you to raise your eyebrow at him, signalling him to spill. “He snuck out to find me, and I think he's already snuck back to the garage. Sorry about that,”

“Why are you guys acting like a forbidden couple sneaking around?”

“What if we are?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a habit that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Sure you are,” you replied sarcastically, and it made him laugh. 

“When will you let me take you out for dinner?” Heeseung frowned, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back a bit.

“I'm free whenever,”

“That's a lie,”

“Fine. That is a lie,” you sighed, remembering your busy schedule that was just as hectic as his. “There's a few weeks break after this weekend, just before Baku,”

“Right,” the gears were turning in Heeseung's head, faintly recalling the season's schedule. “Will you be back in Monaco?”

“I will,”

“Great,” he was having a hard time hiding his true emotions, suppressing his big goofy smile into a nonchalant one. “I'll have a table booked, and I'll just text you the details,”

“Sounds amazing,” it was beyond amazing. 

Even though you two acted like it was only a normal dinner, both of you had a secret feeling it wasn't just that. Not at all. It was clear in the air that a certain emotion and tension lingered in the air, getting heavier as time passed.

“I've been dying to talk to you,” he confessed out of the blue, taking you and him, apparently, by surprise. If you had to be honest, you felt the same. “Me being too caught up with everything and you adjusting to the job, I just wished we got to talk more rather than just texting,”

“Are you saying that just because you keep losing at 8-Ball?” It was true. Heeseung might be a good Formula One driver, but horribly skilled at iMessage games.

“No,” he was quick to deny it, but you knew he was just saving face, so you spared him and waved it off.

“Kidding. I really wanted to talk to you too. It felt weird,”

“What does?”

“You are so close but too far to reach. You’re constantly surrounded, and it feels like I can’t reach you, it feels strange and distant, very foreign,” you didn’t even realise you’ve let the pent up amount of pining slip into your words, but it seemed he felt the same, being able to understand as his gaze softened. You were clutching onto your phone for dear life, knowing sweat was forming on your palm from the nervousness. “But it's great to see you winning, the first two races were crazy,”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” 

“Says the person who thinks the sport is just cars driving in circles,”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, holding in your laugh as you watched Heeseung raise his eyebrows with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m slowly getting the hype,”

“So … not fully, yet?”

“You’ve got to show me more to fully get it,”

Heeseung’s ears definitely perked up at what you said, but he didn’t want to overthink it and overanalyzed the hidden meanings behind it, so he tried keeping his nonchalant front. “I’ll show you,” he merely said, winking cheekily at you.

“Alright, World Champion. I think it’s also time for us to leave, especially you. You’ve got press with Jake,” 

“Right, almost forgot,” he chuckled awkwardly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should probably go,”

“You should,”

“I’ll see you,” he started walking backwards, not turning his back on you yet. “Let me know once you’re back. I’ll tell you the details once I’ve settled it,”

“You’ve got it,”

He nodded, still backing away stiffly and you wanted to burst out laughing at the way he’s acting. You crossed your arms, placing your weight on one leg, staring at him, amused. “You know the Ferrari hospitality is in the opposite direction to where you’re heading, right?”

He stopped in his tracks, then tilted his head, resembling a lost puppy. “Is it?”

“Yes, it is, Heeseung,” you sighed, beckoning him to come forward.  “Let’s just walk back together,”

Heeseung was good at hiding his embarrassment. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, but not reaching his face, instead to the tips of his ears. Yet, the moment he joined your side and saw your smile, every negative thought dissipated, and he let himself feel when he’s in your presence. His sly brush against your shoulders and hands didn’t go unnoticed by you. All you could do was hold your calm until you reached back to your own hospitality, seeing Jake there and you were silently grateful he didn’t stay in the garage.

“What’s got you so … glowy this early in the morning?”

You snapped up from your phone screen, meeting Jake’s narrowed suspicious gaze. “What?”

“Don’t just ‘what’ me, something happened, didn’t it? You seem so smiley and giddy,”

Was it that obvious? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe it’s that overpriced smoothie I got for breakfast,”

“I drank it too!”

“Maybe it’s not working for you,” you shrugged, facing a pouty Jake that was displaying his best attempt at sad teary eyes. “It’s the sad truth,”

He huffed. “Whatever. We should get to the press before I get my ass beat,”

“Yeah, by me.”

Jake eventually forgot about his whole suspicion on you once the race weekend arrived and passed. You consider yourself lucky for that. It was probably fated for what happened next. Him and Heeseung managed to claim their spots on the podium next to each other that race weekend, earning points for their championships and teams. It was one of those times where you ran to pull Jake in a big hug, just like old times. 

In the midst of it all, seeing Heeseung approaching you brought out the instinct in you to pull him in a hug as well. Despite him being covered in sweat and you in another team’s uniform, you and him both stood there as if it was only you two alone. You were able to speak to Heeseung for a bit, congratulating him and shaking him in excitement. Maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, but Heeseung pressed a kiss on your cheek, leaving you stunned. Before you could even give a reaction, he got whisked away, resulting in you and him each frowning and frazzled. 

You stood there, all stunned and fingers softly touching the spot where his lips made contact with just a moment ago. The same lips that curved into a smile that you adored and spewed stupid jokes which never failed to make you laugh.

Snap out of it!

Oh.

You were utterly screwed.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Nothing felt better than being back to the comforts of your own home.

It was odd, calling Monaco your home now. If you had to be fully honest, you missed your real home. The place where you old friends and family stayed while you were currently miles away. 

The ping from your phone eventually brought you out of your reminiscence and diverted your attention. It was good timing, or else you would've broken down crying thinking about it more. 

hee(neigh)bour: free tonight?

you: yes!

hee(neigh)bour: expect me at 6 pm ;) we're going fancyyy

Was that winky face necessary? Yet, it still somehow made you laugh. It didn't last long once you realised the little time you had to get ready. Five hours wasn't enough. You needed a day to fully mentally and physically get yourself together. 

Heeseung was taking you out to dinner. Was it a date? Did he think it was one? No, don't overthink it, it's just a dinner, a friendly dinner. 

You didn't want it to stop at that, though. Shamelessly, you wanted it to be a date.

You wished you were lying when you said you spent two hours trying on outfits and rummaging through your closet for anything that was fancyyy, just as Heeseung mentioned. In the end, you settled for a dusty pink satin midi dress that you got online not long ago thanks to some tacky fashion blog. It was something you've barely worn before, the open back and silky material was probably the most fancy you could dig out from your closet.

The clock was ticking close to six, you made sure your makeup wasn't smudged or your purse wasn't left on the side of your couch, carelessly stumbling around as you balanced on one leg trying to get your heels on. Your heart shouldn't be beating over the normal speed, but it was. The moment your hand twisted the doorknob, clock ticking right at six o'clock, and with one twist of a hand, the door opened and the doorbell rang, you stood still.

“Heeseung,”

“Y/N, hey,” he breathed out, gulping at the sight of you. The timing of your exit and his appearance collectively gave you and him a whiplash, but seeing him managed to calm your nerves a lot more.

Heeseung was dressed in a simple suit and tie, hair styled down, but still managing to be as handsome as ever. What really caught your eye was the small bouquet of flowers in his hand, explaining why he was shifting around nervously. 

“I've got you flowers,” he held it up, gaze held with expectations and a sweet smile facing you. It was a pretty and delicately made bouquet with colourful flowers. Cute. Both him and the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you accepted them from him, smiling wider, and it almost felt like you'd be smiling non stop whenever you're around him. “They're really pretty,”

“You're really pretty too,” he was quick to compliment you, too quick that even he didn’t realise until a beat later, reddening in surprise. “I—”

“Thanks, Hee, you’re really handsome too,” you kept your cool, though feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks as well. In a third perspective, you two probably looked like blushing idiots.

He visibly straightened, clearing his throat and gradually regaining his composure. One thing Heeseung wasn’t going to do tonight was crumble, but with you around, it’s hard to say. “Thank you. Shall we get going?” 

“Yes! After I put the flowers away, wait a minute, okay?”

Heeseung let out a soft ‘okay’ and laughed under his breath, watching you run back in and filling a vase full of water, proceeding to chuck the flowers in carelessly. Your heels were clicking against the floor noisily, and soon you were in front of him again, smiling abashedly. “I’ll make sure to deal with the flowers more nicer when I get back,”

Heeseung waved you off, guiding you forward. “No worries about that, I can always get you new ones.”

Heeseung might’ve not realised how lasting the effects of his words were, because you were a flustered mess while he continued on as if nothing happened. He couldn’t just say that and expect zero reactions from you!

The drive there might’ve been a little quiet from time to time, but you basked in the silence and admired the scenery of Monte Carlo. It almost felt like you were a kid in a new country again and was constantly wowed by new things. Apparently Heeseung could tell that about you. He occasionally casted glances at you, smiling mostly to himself when you were too caught up and blabbering about the most random things, listening to every one of them while you thought he wasn’t. 

“No, I have to agree, I think pouring milk after the cereal is much more … normal than cereal after milk,” Heeseung was holding back his laugh as he agreed with you when you two were walking to the restaurant.

“I know right! Say that to some of my colleagues,”

“No way,”

“Yes way,” you displayed a horrified expression, but it only melted into a smile once you saw Heeseung's face. 

You hated it. This unexplainable feeling you always had around Heeseung. It never faded away, but instead grew stronger and persisted as time passed. What was it? Why were you like this?

For the time being, you kicked aside the countless thoughts of Heeseung and actually tried to immerse yourself in the dinner with the real Heeseung in front of you. It was hard to concentrate entirely. Your main focus wasn’t even on the smoked salmon on your plate nor the ancient wine in your glass; it was on Heeseung. 

He asked you about almost everything, putting the spotlight on you for most of the dinner, which was quite surprising for you. But what he failed to know was you having trouble formulating a proper answer considering how your mind couldn’t stop wandering over to him. It was annoying that he had completely taken over you and your head in the span of a few months. 

It was even more annoying how nice and soft hearted he was. He proved that by telling you the bill was already paid and wholeheartedly declining your offer to pay back, insisting that he was the one who invited you out anyway. You could only accept your defeat, but promised him you’d treat him to some ramen. 

The walk back to the car was excruciating. It was mostly silent, but that was not the problem, it was the tension filled air that made your skin crawl. You and him were both tired, and you’d said what you wanted to say during dinner, so comfortable silence eventually settled in the air. You could feel his lingering gaze on you, and you were sure he felt yours on him as well. It was just a waiting game for one of you to speak up at that point. 

It must’ve been an unsaid rule. Heeseung didn’t think twice before opening the door of the passenger side for you, bambi-like eyes staring back at you, a small smile on his lips. “M’lady,” 

You cracked a smile at his behaviour, shaking your head slightly and thanked him as you got in. Everything happening before you almost gave you a sense of deja vu from months ago where you were last in his car. Back when you were barely friends but somehow there was an undeniable spark between you and him. Nothing has changed, neither the dynamics nor you and him in general, all of it was the same, but probably better.

“What are you thinking about?” Heeseung’s voice drew you out from your small bubble of thoughts. It was then you realised that you were soon reaching the apartment complex.

“Us,’’

Heeseung was quiet for a beat, the both of you processing what you said differently. His head snapped to look at you, and you gulped, cursing at yourself for letting your tongue loose. “I mean, the time we met,”

“What about it?” he kept his composure, you could tell that he did.

“I’m getting deja vu to the time we just met. Me in your car and we’re driving back to the apartment,” you decided to be truthful, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “It’s nothing, really, it’s a little stupid,”

“It isn’t,” Heeseung reassured. “It’s normal to reminisce once in a while, and it’s weird, you know? How our emotions and feelings work, it’s all complicated,”

You glanced at him. Feelings and emotions were complicated, he said it almost like he had read your mind. He didn’t notice you staring at him, and continued on. “I’m just glad to have you here, in my life and … in general. Didn’t realise how lonely I was in Monaco until you came into my life,”

Your gaze softened at his words, unable to hide your small frown at the tone of his voice. He turned to look at you for a split second, then broke into a chuckle. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good neighbour,” he attempted at diffusing the heavy tension, eliciting a quiet scoff and an amused smile from you. 

The rest of the journey was thankfully much lighter and easy going. Heeseung was too busy indulging in the music playing on the radio to notice you spacing out yet again. His words were dancing in your mind from time to time. You certainly didn’t miss the look in his gaze, even though it was merely a second. 

As you let him hold your hand and lead you, you couldn’t help but feel giddy from a small action like this. Holding your hand tightly and offering his spare slippers to get you out of your heels were simple gestures, but why were they making you flush easily? Maybe it wasn’t just the actions, but also the person behind it.

Standing in front of your door, right beside his, you were facing him with a wavering attempt at maintaining eye contact. It was the same exact spot where you first met him, except this time around, you felt the complete opposite compared to then. Thinking about this spot, in front of your individual front doors, it was crazy that you and him had many encounters here. But at that moment, you stood with a different feeling and emotion, eyes holding a message for him to slowly decipher.

“I really enjoyed the date—” Did you really just say that? You swore you’d keep that to yourself!

Heeseung blinked, looking almost as if he was splashed with a bucket of cold water, totally shell shocked. “Date?” 

You, on the other hand, were freaking out at your own mistake. “Ignore that. It’s a slip of the tongue, it’s stupid, oh my gosh—”

Heeseung was quick to wave his hands. “No, no, it’s fine. I—uh—I really liked this date too,” he was slowly smiling, not denying or correcting you. “I was hoping I can bring you out for another date again,” he made sure to enunciate that word, making his intentions clear. “If it’s all okay with you,”

“I’m more than okay with it,” you exhaled, needing to pinch yourself. 

“Great,” he was good at hiding his joy, suppressing most of it into a smile and slipping his hands into his pants pockets to hide his clammy hands. “It’s time to clear out your schedules,”

“You sound like you’ve already got something in store,”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he simply shrugged. “Get ready to be sick of me during these few weeks,”

“Like I’m not already sick of you,”

“Hey!” 

“Kidding. If you charm me enough, I’ll probably even fall in love with you,”

The gears in Heeseung’s head seemed to have turned, coming up with an idea that you couldn’t predict. You instantly recognised the familiar spark hidden behind his soft gaze, preparing yourself to hear him out on whatever he had hidden in his sleeves. 

“Give me three dates,” he started, the sincerity in voice contrasted with his playful smirk. Screw that, you weren’t prepared for that. “I’ll charm you within these three dates,”

“Seriously? Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he didn’t even bother to hide it nor make up excuses, being much more straightforward than you expected. Who gave this man the sudden surge of confidence? “Four dates. I'll plan them and it'll be spontaneously timed,”

“Do you have the time for that, though? The season's schedule—”

“Forget about that, I'll make it work. Just let me take you out on a few dates, how does that sound?”

“Sounds fantastic,” it felt like he had knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Heeseung nodded slowly, seemingly digesting it all too, his smile never once slipped. “Fantastic,” he repeated after you, and it had unknowingly become a habit he picked up on. “I'll let you know when's the first date. Any preference?”

“I have faith in you, Hee,”

“I won't let you down,” his promise sounded like it had a deeper meaning behind it from the tone of his voice. He was serious about making you fall in love with him, but the thing was you already were halfway there. The effort coming from him only made you cave in more and more. “It's getting late, I'm sure you're tired. Should we …" he gestured at the front doors. 

“Oh right, yeah,” you were too deep into the whole conversation to realise you were still standing in front of your apartment. It was embarrassing for you to admit that you weren't willing to leave so soon and wanted to spend more time with Heeseung. You could always invite him over—no, wait—that sounds wrong, you're not going for third base. All you could do was nod along and act casual. Playing hard to get, that was the plan, right? 

“I had a nice time tonight, Hee, thanks for dinner,”

“It was my pleasure. I had a nice time finding out your punk phase in middle school too,”

“Okay, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, remembering the precise moment where you and Heeseung shared stories about each of you. Your big mouth just had to let it slip. “It was the past, and it was a phase,”

The mischievous smile persisted on his pretty face. “I would like to see it come to life again,”

“No you don't,” you poked his shoulder with a finger, and you let a beat pass, not removing it just yet. Heeseung arched an eyebrow in question, maintaining eye contact with you. 

The fingertip pressed against his shoulder eventually travelled upward and your palm pressed onto the same area. Your touch was gentle, fingers holding onto his shoulder lightly. “Goodnight, Hee,”

He visibly gulped, surprised at how close you've gotten in a split second. Not to mention, your touch on his shoulder was burning into his skin. It was such a small and simple gesture, yet he was crumbling from the inside. 

“Goodnight,” he mustered everything and managed to say, excusing the scarlet painted cheeks and ear tips. 

Once you removed your hand from his shoulder, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Was it normal to feel this way? To be completely knocked out of breath in a way? To be enamoured of you? 

With one last exchange of goodbyes, you disappeared behind your front door, leaving Heeseung there in the corridor to himself where he stood rooted to the ground, fingers grazing against the spot you had touched earlier, head tilted to one side and tongue wetting his lips in deep thought.

Then there was you, standing behind your door. Everything from the dinner up till now, you had to digest and process it. 

Because, that was all you needed to know to realise that you liked Heeseung, and you could only let time make you fall completely. 

— THE 1ST DATE, MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

“He’s taking you out on dates? Three dates?”

Kim Minjeong, your beloved best friend who stayed miles away from you, was screaming into your ear through the phone at nine in the morning. She was one of the closest friends you have that you kept in contact with, considering the amount of years you’ve spent together too. Now, you were in Monaco while she was in London, yet you were glad the distance didn’t stop you from being friends.

“The Lee Heeseung? That F1 champion?” she had been gasping nonstop throughout the phone call, and you didn’t blame her, it was a lot to take in. 

“Even you know him? Gosh, was I that oblivious? I truly think I was unprepared for the job,” you sighed, weighing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you attempted at picking an outfit for Heeseung’s first date.

“Way too oblivious. This was why I told you to come to the UK! Football is massive here, you’d be fit for a job anywhere,”

“Well, Jake practically begged me and I was unemployed so I took the chance,” you fling aside an overly fancy dress that was not fit for the casual, huffing quietly. Apparently, Heeseung had planned a dinner by the beach, taking you to watch the sunset before that too. Talk about being such a romantic guy, huh? “Besides, the pay was … convincing too,”

Minjeong barked out a humorous laugh that was mixed with disbelief, and you could almost picture her shaking her head, giving you that specific disapproving look. “Okay, whatever. Tell me more about this guy and the dates,”

“Heeseung? He’s nice, caring, funny, and just easy to be around,”

“Come on, there must be more than those plain descriptions,”

Of course there was. Heeseung was more than words could ever describe. He was a breath of fresh air on a summer's day, the type that was cooling and calm on a scorching hot day, soothing the burn on your skin. One look into his eyes was enough to fill you with contentment, everything about him was what you wished to have, but whether or not you could, you didn't know.

“There is…” your voice faltered into a whisper.

“Oh my God, you have a crush, don't you?” Minjeong practically screamed into your ear once again, making you recoil away from the phone for a second, wincing in pain. “You are just shy, I know it. You were always like this!”

You were in no place to correct her, she knew you through and through. “Fine, yes, I do fancy him—”

“You admitted it!”

“Well, yeah, after someone here egged me on,” you grumble quietly, listening to her giggles, knowing damn well she has a big wide grin plastered on her face. “I think I do like him,” you finally set down your chosen outfit, sitting on your bed in a slumped posture, mostly in defeat.

“You'll know over time, like, for sure. Based on my own experiences, when you're at that stage of thinking you like him, you tend to be in denial at first—” you rolled your eyes at that point, being heavily guilty, “then, you'd accept it, and fall harder and harder. Suddenly, you know you like him and boom, you're in deep!”

F.M.L. 

Everything she said had struck a point, and you being in the denial stage was already proving one of them. “You're—I—I don't think you're wrong,”

“I know I'm not. Just do what you feel is right, 'kay? He's into you too, don't overthink it! Man's planned four dates just for you to fall for him is already a clear sign,”

“You think?”

“Don't be stupid, Y/N. Anyone can tell how much Heeseung likes you.”

Anyone can tell how much Heeseungs likes you. That was the only thing running through your head for the rest of the time you got ready. It finally hit you that you had finally accomplished a little progress: admitting your feelings, but the problem was you’re literally seeing him in a few hours. How were you going to act normal around him? All of this was bringing back to your highschool years where you last felt the same as you were now, all giddy and preoccupied with thoughts of him. 

Leading up to the minute when your doorbell rang, signalling the presence of Lee Heeseung at your doorstep. Before opening the door, you did what you’ve never done, which was nervously tucking your hair behind your ears. What has gotten into you? The moment you pulled the door open, you were faced with him, the same man you were thinking about for God knows how long. He was in a simple outfit. White tee and light blue jeans, an outfit that totally complimented his tall and lean stature, plus his sun kissed skin that you ever so appreciate. He was absolutely gorgeous.

“I got you some flowers,” he revealed a small bouquet of tulips in different colours. “I figured the last one was probably wilting so I got you new ones,” 

You accepted it from him, cheeks matching the pink tulips amongst the bunch. He stuck to his words, though you didn’t believe it was true in the first place, mainly treating them light heartedly. “Thank you. You didn’t need to, you know?”

“I want to, don’t worry. It’s not hurting my wallet anyway,” he shrugged, not missing a chance to sweep his eyes along your body. “Besides, I like seeing you smile whenever you get them,”

That only got you flushing a deeper hue of pink. One thing about him was the fact that he knew his ways with words, and he was aware that he has an effect on you, so what more than to use both to its advantage. “Thank you then,” you turned to rush back inside to place the flowers away, but in actuality, you needed to hide your blushing face from Heeseung.

The drive to Larvotto beach was calming. Heeseung’s convertible car had its sunroof open the whole time, the evening air was cooling against your skin, and the sun was soon to set. You let yourself look over at Heeseung, watching his hair flow along the wind, a carefree expression on his face. He was always pretty, but seeing him under the dimming sun, it only made your heart tighter and eyes brighter. 

“Is it your first time here?” The beach was never the first place you’d thought to go to, especially when you’re not the biggest fan either. However, having Heeseung here made it an exception, or were you just biased? You weren’t complaining about having a personal tour guide either way.

“It is. I don’t think I’ve travelled much ever since I got here,” you kicked the sand with your feet, slightly thankful to have worn beach appropriate shoes. 

“There’s a lot of hidden gems here, I’ll bring you there during the break,”

You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head to one side. “Are you suggesting something? Hey, Lee Heeseung, why are you being so nice to me?”

“It’s because I like you,” no sugarcoating, neither did he flinch nor cower as he said it, face remaining impassive. You, however, were standing there with a thumping heart, mind practically yelling ‘did he just say that’ and ‘say something’ over again. Almost every possible word died on the tip of your tongue, leaving you stunned. 

What happened next only increased your confusion. Heeseung laughed. Right, you weren’t hallucinating whatsoever, he genuinely choked out a laugh, an awkward laugh, to be exact, and you were there questioning if his insanity was intact.

“Forget it, it’s nothing,” he waved it off, breathing deep and shaking his head. 

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Hee,” you frowned, crossing your arms and nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Okay, I drank a little before this,” he smiled, the same foolish smile that he sported around you, but soon it faltered. “You don’t need to say anything,” his voice softened. “Just … forgive me if I made you uncomfortable,”

“You’d never make me feel uncomfortable,” you were fidgeting with your fingers this time, unsure why you didn’t answer him back when you knew you liked him too. Were you scared? “Thank you,”

It was Heeseung’s turn to be confused. “For what?”

“For telling me, and … letting me know what I can do with my feelings next,” you needed time to sort everything out, and Heeseung understood that, but he also couldn’t resist being slightly curious about what you said. It was an unspoken fact that lingered in the air, from the first meeting until present, there had always been a spark between you two. You knew that, Heeseung knew that, but you were both just waiting for the right time to act on it. 

Heeseung’s soft smile reassured you a little more, and you knew there was nothing that’d make it awkward between you and him. You turned away from him, hiding the tinge of red gradually spreading on your cheeks. “It’s really pretty here,” the sun was already setting, painting the sky a darker shade of blue. The bright lights coming from the buildings nearby illuminated the area, bursting through the dark, just the same as the stars connecting the both of you burning brighter. 

You were looking around, unaware that Heeseung had his gaze on you instead, a faint smile pulled at his lips, a certain longing gleaming in his brown irises. “It really is.”

To your relief, the dinner wasn’t stiff or awkward, it flowed much more naturally than you expected. Heeseung’s sudden confession was truly out of the blue, but you blame yourself more for freezing like a deer in headlights. What could you do, feelings were odd, and you just weren’t fully ready right there and then. The scenery around got to take your mind off him though, basking in the bright lights and music, enjoying good food and company, you were thankful for it.

Just like the other night, you and him ended up in front of your front door by the end of the night. It was almost a reenactment of it too. He was staring at you and you stared back, both of you just standing there without wiping your stupid smiles away, as if playing a game about who would speak first. Spoiler, it’s you.

“Thanks for tonight … again,”

“My pleasure … again,” he mimicked your words, eliciting a scoff of disbelief from you, that grin on your face only widening, contrasting to your pointed glare. But soon it melted into a much more apologising stare, and you started biting your lips out of habit. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier by the way, I shouldn’t have kept quiet,”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping a little, but he reassured you another time. “It’s fine, really. I get it, you were shocked, I shouldn’t have done it either,”

“No—well—yeah, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me rejecting you or something, I’m not, okay? I just need some time,”

Heeseung seemed to look amused instead, lips curving up into a wider smile, twinkling eyes filled with a sense of adoration that you failed to notice. “I know,”

“You know?”

“I know. Y/N, you don’t need to explain anything to me, you don’t owe me an explanation whatsoever. It’s your feelings and what’s mine is mine,” he reached over to brush a strand of hair that fell onto your face. His action rendered you motionless, you found yourself holding your breath for a split second, gaze wandering around his features screaming ‘you’re insane!’ He was, in fact, insane, crazy even to pull this stunt on you, whereas you were too buzzed from the cocktails to form a proper reaction to it. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, realising you needed to get more alcohol in your system to fully take everything in. If only you had known earlier that having a crush would be this complicated, then maybe you wouldn’t have one in the first place. But it was impossible anyway, Lee Heeseung knew his way to your heart. Screw him. Unlike your mini rant in your head, your face lit up at the mention of his name, drawing his attention instantly. “Would you like to … join me for a drink?”

It was an invitation that meant more than what it seemed, one that told him you've opened your heart to him, letting him in. 

“A drink?” from the sound of his voice, he already sounded convinced, but mildly surprised at your sudden offer. 

“Yes, or maybe a few,” you smoothly unlocked your door, blinking at him with a teasing grin.

Heeseung let out a chuckle at the sight of you, so inviting and jumpy, absentmindedly filling his heart with more adoration, eventually having no choice but to cave in. Well, he has to push his trainer and nutritionist to the back of his mind and place you in the centre of it. “I can’t say no to that,”

“Be my guest.” you pushed the door open, dropping an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder as he passed, then closed the door to start a night of deep talks paired with red wine.

That night, you fell asleep at four in the morning, surprisingly with Heeseung by your side. One bottle led to another, and soon, you were both drunk, slumped on the couch in a stupor. Before Heeseung could realise or even form a single conscious thought, he had fallen asleep. Let’s just say the morning after could only be described with ‘hungover’, ‘dead tired’ but also, ‘filled with a new found love’. Maybe all it took was a drunken night with secrets told to get you one step closer to fully admit your liking.

— THE 2ND DATE, BAKU, AZERBAIJAN 2023

You wished your break lasted forever. In a blink of an eye, you're suddenly in a new country with a lasting jet lag. It wasn't just you who thought that either, it was the entirety of the garage. 

Another day, another race. You had to remind yourself that the season's schedule hasn't even reached halfway yet and there's still more to come, which is why you shouldn't expect a quick freedom from work.

“What did you do over the short break?” Jake stared expectantly at you as you handed him his gloves, the garage was filled with loud buzzing noises of metal. 

“I went on a date,”

Jake's eyes almost bulged out of his head at your casual response. “You what?”

“I went on a date,” you repeated a little harshly this time, handing him his balaclava that he didn't bother to put on until he was satisfied with your responses.

“I need more details,”

“There's not much details,”

“Who was it?”

“I don't want to say,”

“Why not? Is he some socialite? Monaco's filled with rich upper class people,”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, narrowing your gaze at him, visibly unamused. “Rich? Yes. Socialite? Not really,”

“Why are you making me guess?” He crossed his arms, clearly agitated at your reluctance.

“Why are you butting into my business when you're supposed to be putting this—” you pointed feverishly at the balaclava in his hand, “—on and getting your ass into the car,”

“Can't your sweet ol' cousin know?” He grumbled, finally pulling on the white balaclava over his head. 

“You'll know when the time is right,” you said with a finality in your tone, and Jake huffed in annoyance but not making another comment.

You wished him good luck and after you pressed an encouraging kiss against his cheek, he left to prepare for the race that was about to begin in less than an hour. 

Sitting amongst your coworkers, you were discussing with them about the possibility of winning, watching the race on a screen. The orange Mclaren cars were seen zooming past, climbing higher on the scoreboard.

However, your eyes were particularly set on a specific name. 'LEE' paired with a Ferrari logo, was sitting high on top of the leaderboard. Of course he was, you thought.

An hour had passed and with one last lap to go, Heeseung was fighting with Jay from Mercedes to snatch first place on the podium. You held your breath for a minute, eyes flickering between the timer and the cars that were inching close to one another. Then there it was, Heeseung's red Ferrari overtook Jay's silver Mercedes and crossed the finish line, a chequered flag waving in the air and you fell backwards onto your seat.

“Lee Heeseung yet again,” one of your colleagues, Keeho, breathed out in astonishment. 

“He's the ace for a reason,” Chaewon, your favourite PR manager and another one of your colleagues, added thoughtfully. 

The garage still had a reason to celebrate nonetheless. Jake came in third, securing another podium for him this season, meanwhile his teammate, Dokyeom secured fourth place, missing out narrowly for a spot on the podium. The team was in high spirits knowing there were points scored and their efforts were not in vain. 

While you were stuck in the garage celebrating with your colleagues, Jake and Heeseung were chilling in the cool down room, a place where drivers recover after a race, before heading out to the podium. Jake was eyeing Heeseung, a little thought in mind.

“So … what were you up to over the break? Didn't hear someone calling out for a small party or something,” Jake whispered quietly enough so that only both him and Heeseung could hear it.

Heeseung shrugged, unaware of Jake's intentions. “I trained, ate, went shopping and had a date—”

“A date you say …” his mind began to work, suspicions increasing further. “Funny, interesting …”

Heeseung pulled a face at Jake's odd behaviour, leaning his body away from the younger. “You're being weird,”

“Well, I'm just thinking,” he waved his friend off, smiling devilishly. “Plus, since when does Lee Heeseung go on dates?”

“Ever since a few weeks ago,” Heeseung grumbled, taking bigger gulps from his bottle.

“I see,” Jake smirked, enjoying teasing the hell out of Heeseung. “Treat her well, Lee,” he meant that even though he made it sound lighthearted. It wasn't hard to piece two and two together, he just didn't want to poke his nose into your business. 

“I will, like my heart depends on it.”

The rest of the day eventually consisted of team celebrations and lots of picture taking with the media team. You accompanied Jake until the end and you felt like you could breathe once again when your back touched the bed of your hotel room.

It was barely evening time and you were already begging for sleep, even when Chaewon came in to invite you for dinner at some restaurant nearby, you had to decline and promised there'll be a next time. The silence in the room was what accompanied you while you texted Jake, rolling your eyes at some stupid comments he made, until you paused at the sight of a new notification.

championhee: up for an impromptu date?

you: i'm too tired to go out :(

championhee: who said we're going out? send me your room number and the floor you're in, i'll be there soon

That got you sitting up real fast. 

Heeseung was coming to your room and you're dressed unprepared, looking equally unready. You threw on a decent looking outfit, one that didn’t seem that you tried too hard, but at least your effort could be recognised. It was a fact you never worked well with sudden plans, this was an example of it.

You couldn’t even concentrate on the screen of your phone, attention constantly diverting to the door, knowing Heeseung would turn up at any minute. At this point, tiredness completely disappeared from your body, leaving you awake and alert enough for a date. 

Speaking of the devil.

The thoughts of him manifested into reality when you heard the knocks on your door, a quiet hum coming from the other side. It didn’t take a beat to know it was Heeseung. Your familiarity of him by now was astounding, almost as if you had his memorised and imprinted into your senses without your knowledge. You broke into a smile at the realisation of his presence, bounding towards the door to whip it open, meeting his smiling eyes.

“Hey, pretty,”

There it was again, that pet name he reserved specially for you, just you and no one else. It didn’t help that his messy, newly washed hair was falling perfectly onto his forehead, skin clad in a loose white t-shirt, a killer combo for you. 

“Are you not going to let me in or …?” 

You’ve stared too long, haven't you? Snapping out of your shameless ogle session, you opened the door wider, stepping away. “Come in, please,” 

“I brought some takeaway,” he held up two bags of food, flashing you a toothy grin that made his cheeks puff cutely. 

“Sweet,” you helped him with the bags, setting them on a low table, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable, and so he did. 

Heeseung sat himself down on the carpeted floor, manoeuvring the table closer to him before staring at your every movement across the room. Stars were lingering in his irises, he was looking at you like you were the brightest one in the sky. You turned around just in time to catch his gaze, a feeling of fireworks bursting in your heart. He didn’t need any words to convey his emotions, all it took was a single look at you.

“Let’s eat,” he patted on the spot next to him.

You nodded, casting him a friendly smile and sat down at that exact spot. You accidentally brushed against his shoulder from time to time, even as you reached for the food, you would make contact with him, the touches alone were enough to send an electric shock between you two. Nervous glances and small talks were exchanged, you could feel the tension in the air and you didn’t know if it was the beer Heeseung brought or you were just going insane.

“Lee Heeseung,” his name contrasted to the bitter aftertaste of beer on your tongue. By then, a few cans of beer were consumed, your eyes were starting to droop and to you, Heeseung was the universe at that moment. “Your attempts to make me fall in love are failing…”

“Hm?” The much sober man sitting next to you was leaning over to catch a better glimpse of you, curiosity and dread welling up in his throat at the sound of your words.

“Because…I think I’ve already been in love with you since the beginning,” 

Heeseung almost saw his life flash in front of his eyes. You were there in front of him, in all your glory, saying something that you probably wouldn’t remember in the morning whereas it would just stay with Heeseung until the day he dies. You couldn’t even sit straight, cheeks tainted pink and breath smelling like cheap beer, but you said those words with so much clarity that even Heeseung forgot you were drunk for a second.

“W–what?”

“Lee Heeseung,” you repeated his name again, and Heeseung swore he was much nervous now compared to fighting for his championship. “You’re right. Emotions and feelings are weird, I don’t know why but every time I see you … I just feel …” you pointed at your heart, “my heart feels full,”

“Are you drunk?”

“Yeah,”

“Did you mean what you say?”

“Yeah,”

Heeseung heaved a small sigh, lips forming a small smile. He got a hold of your arm, gently lifting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed, it’s late,”

“It’s only ten! Plus, they’re out clubbing, you can stay longer,” you pleaded, pulling on his sleeves despite barely having any energy left yourself. “I want you to stay,”

“I didn’t know you were this clingy when you’re drunk,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes following your movement as you climbed into bed, tucking yourself under the covers. “I’ll stay,”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Heeseung was always a man of his words. He sat next to your sleeping figure, having not much to do and thus was left to think about what you said earlier on. This was a first for him in a long time, to experience a complicated amount of feelings he’s never had until he met you and letting himself be vulnerable around you. What were you doing to him? Even when he left your room to walk back to his, all he could think of was your face and the look you had when you were with him.

It was the first time he has seen you so open to him. Maybe you were the same back when you drank together, but to be fair, Heeseung was equally drunk to even remember the full details. This time around, he got to see you and the secret messages hidden behind your gaze. That night, just like the first night he met you, he was in bed stuck awake just thinking about you. 

— THE 3RD DATE, MIAMI, USA, 2023

You were sure you embarrassed yourself in front of Heeseung that night in the hotel room. Waking up to a headache with minimal recollection the next morning had you realising drinking was truly your biggest enemy. However, you were surprised to see water and aspirin already prepared on your bedside table, and no, it wasn’t Chaewon that placed it considering she was knocked out flat. It was Heeseung. 

Groaning further into your pillow, you saw his messages asking if you were fine, to which you replied yes, but hesitating whether you should bring up the conversation you had. Look, you barely remembered it, but you knew you said something along the lines of being in love with him. That alone had you kicking your pillows in frustration.

Now here you were, in the middle of Miami, preparing for another week of work. The jet lag wasn’t even giving you a headache, it was Heeseung and the thought of him that caused it. 

He seemed fine, completely normal both over text and in person, but you just had a feeling that night had shifted something in the air someway or another. Worst part of all, you were both ignoring it, or you assumed Heeseung had brushed it under the rug. 

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind for the time being, going forward with the work you had on hand and busying yourself just to forget about him. But how could you do that when he loved announcing his presence at random times? 

It wasn’t even the weekend yet, precisely the evening before media day when Heeseung sent you a message. ‘Date?’ was self explanatory, but once he turned up on the doorstep of your hotel room, you feared your heart wasn’t going to last at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” you greeted rather awkwardly, trying to keep the door open while slipping on your shoes. Heeseung managed a smile, helping you hold onto the door and waited for you until you finally rushed out, joining his side. 

“Hey, you good?” Heeseung turned to look at you, sincere concern laced in his voice. It was probably your stiff smile or unnaturalness that he noticed, not knowing that you were troubled by the things you said to him.

“I’m good, very good,” you assured, though partially lying, casting a side glance at him. “I didn’t think you’d bring me out on a date right before the race weekend,”

“It’s our last date out of the three I promised, and I want it to be on a day where we’re both not tired and fighting for our lives,” he leaned his head down slightly to catch your eyes, flashing you a playful smirk. “Plus, the date I planned requires a little more … energy,”

“Energy?”

Energy and strength were truly what you needed. Heeseung had planned a skating date all along, a disco skating one, not to mention. It seemed that he had done his research too, the place wasn’t far from the hotel and you were able to make it there by foot. In no time, the two of you entered the indoor skating rink, the dim coloured lights and loud music welcomed you.

You waited on a bench until Heeseung came back with two pairs of skates, making big steps towards you with an excited bounce in his steps. Watching him and that stupid grin he has on his face totally had your heart flipping, mind yelling at you and eyes shining brightly. If it wasn’t obvious to him, you were sure others would’ve already noticed either way. 

“Have you done this before?” you took the skates from him and he plopped down next to you, turning his head at the mention of your question. 

“Skate? I have. Sunghoon is really good at this, on ice too. He brought me and some of the guys skating before,” his hands moved fast, pulling the skates on and lacing them within a minute, then noticing you haven’t even got yours on yet. “Here,” he gently took the skates from your hold, getting up and kneeling down to put them on for you.

“Y–you don’t need to—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let me,” he was staring up at you, and at that moment, in the dim lights, shadows on his face drawing out his beaming eyes, you felt something new. Heeseung glanced up once more, hands tying your laces skillfully. “Are you okay? You look a little … red,”

You didn’t even realise how hot you were feeling despite being in an air conditioned room. Were you okay? No, thanks to the man before you that always successfully has you become a flustered mess. “Y–yeah, fine, completely fine,”

By the time he was done, you swore you had trouble breathing every time he looked up at you. Something so casual turned into something more than just that. You had to remind yourself not to give in easily, but seeing him offer his hand and feeling the touch of his skin made your knees weak. “Shall we?”

“Truth be told, I’m a little scared,”

“First time?”

“Not really,” you frowned, your other hand coming to grip onto Heeseung’s forearm once you entered the rink. “Just … balancing skills,” 

“Hold onto my hand, I got you,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance, skating side by side and never loosening his hold once. “Listen to the music, it helps,” 

He wasn’t entirely wrong. With the help of ABBA and some Fleetwood Mac, you found yourself enjoying this more than you expected. It was much better when you finally gained the momentum and were able to balance better. Okay, there were a few slips and trips, but it only gave you and Heeseung a laugh, and seeing the way his lips curve into a smile, eyes forming a crescent shape, your face unknowingly smiled along.

“Are you ready?” 

You whipped your head to look at him, absolutely puzzled. “What?”

Heeseung let go of your hand, but before you could panic or slip, he slowed down until he was directly behind you, hands holding onto your waist. The foreign feeling of his touch on your waist had knocked the air out of your lungs, your body instantly turning still under his fingers. 

“Hey! This wasn’t part of the plan,” you tried turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, but you only heard his laugh.

“I wanted to get closer to you,” at that, you could practically feel his front almost pressing against your back, and you wondered where he got the sudden confidence from. “Can I get closer to you?” his breath was basically fanning against the shell of your ear, and as each second passed, you found your will crumbling.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” you coughed, trying to seem nonchalant, but knowing you were gradually failing at that. You were glad your back was facing Heeseung so that he didn’t have any chance to see your reaction. You were left in a blushing mess, unaware of how Heeseung was stifling his laugh behind you. 

Once your legs got tired from constantly skating around the rink and you were starting to be sick of the repeated songs, you and Heeseung decided it was time to leave. On the way back to your hotel, you were walking hand in hand, barely much space in between you and him. You glanced at him briefly, pursing your lips in thought. 

“Thanks for taking me out tonight. I didn’t know you were skilled at skating just as much as driving a racecar,”

“It’s my side gig,” he joked, smiling when you started laughing quietly. “I hope you enjoyed it. I wanted the third date to be something special, but most importantly, for you to have fun,”

“I had fun, just not the times I almost fell and broke my ankle,” you exaggerated, but half of it was semi-true.

“I would be there to catch you if you fall,”

“Oh, my knight in shining armour,” you fanned yourself, leaning your shoulder against his. You felt his shoulder shaking slightly from chuckling, seemingly bemused by you. “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,”

“I don’t want this to be our last date,”

Heeseung gave your hand a squeeze, maybe out of reflex or instinct, you didn’t know, but it was definitely unconsciously done. He slowly turned to meet your eyes, you didn’t expect the constellations of hope, confusion and love weaved in his irises, shining brightly as if they were trying to tell you a message in an unspoken language that only he understood. 

“Then it won’t be our last,” Heeseung almost sounded relieved, glad that it wasn’t just him that felt this way. “Who said I’ll stop talking to you after this? You’re unfortunately stuck with me whether you like it or not,”

“Sounds like a curse,”

“You’re not complaining either,”

“I’m not,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, flashing him a teasing grin that he reciprocated. “Are you walking me all the way to the door?”

Heeseung shot you a look of deadpan, as if asking ‘are you hearing yourself?’ “I’m not one to dump you down in the lobby and leave, am I?”

“Touche,”

All the way up to your room, you couldn’t help yourself from casting frequent glances at him. He was real, so real and breathing next to you. Yet, why did he seem so hard to have whenever your heart screamed for him? He was Lee Heeseung, a three times world champion that everyone loves and probably countless girls chase, you were just … you. Somehow, you were the one he chose.

“Will you let me take you out on a date some other time again?” Heeseung’s hand finally left yours, now standing in front of you and facing your hotel door, the number ‘111’ reminded him of his car’s number, number one. 

“Well … I’ll have to see, maybe,” you placed a hand on your chin, playfully irking him on, liking the way his tongue poked against the insides of his cheek. “I’m kidding, of course you can, I love spending my time with you,”

“You do?”

“If I don’t I wouldn’t have gone on these dates with you, Hee, obviously I love being with you,” the words wouldn’t stop pouring out, whether or not you were aware of it, Heeseung felt heat travelling up to the tips of his ears. “Let’s just say the objective of this whole date plan was achieved,”

It didn’t hit Heeseung until a second later. Did that mean the things you said that night were true? Not that he didn’t believe them either, he just thought he had heard you wrongly, or more rather he tried convincing himself that. Before Heeseung could utter a response, you spoke first, fully aware of what you said and your intended meaning behind it.

“Thanks again, for tonight and everything, Hee. I do have the best time whenever I’m with you,” you breathed deeply, fighting the urge to just turn around and run away instead of being in this tension filled environment. “I should get going now, and you too. Text me when you’re back, okay? Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t sleep too late.”

You nodded, turning around to unlock the door with your keycard, but the moment you heard a click sound, you didn’t immediately make a dash inside unlike the initial thought you had in mind. Instead, you faced Heeseung once more, noticing the confused smile he had on his face. Hell, you couldn’t believe you’re doing this.

Almost like a flash, you practically jumped towards him, pressing a kiss on his cheek that somehow landed much closer to his mouth. Your aim was ass, but it seemed neither of you mind. Heeseung definitely was the one who looked the most amused. His gaze was sweeping your figure, tongue poking out to sweep across his bottom lip.

“Bye!”

“Y/N—” 

That was when Heeseung snapped out of his momentary daze, but he was too late, you had already made your escape by slamming the door behind you. Standing there, heart beating quick, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you broke into a foolish smile, giggling all to yourself. 

“Have you gone insane?”

Chaewon peeped her head out from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging in his mouth, a humoured, yet concerned expression staring back at you. She most likely heard your hushed self talk and giggles, then presumed you’ve probably hit your head somewhere or got drunk. 

You grinned at her.

“Insane? Yeah.”

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Being back in Monaco for the grand prix was both a blessing and a curse. For the pros, you get to stay in your lovely home instead of hotel rooms, as for the cons, work was all you could think of. At least you’d get a comfortable bed to sleep in after a long day at the circuit.

Over the course of two weeks after that night in Miami, you realised you haven’t seen Heeseung much in person. He was busy in Italy even though the race was cancelled, must’ve been a Ferrari driver thing that he claimed over text. You were equally piled with work and personal matters too. Who knew the role of being Jake’s trainer slash assistant was stressful enough to wish you were strangling your own cousin. 

Thankfully, there was something better to look forward to compared to the current downside in your life. Minjeong, the person you’ve been waiting all month for, was finally in Monte Carlo, specifically in your house, catching up with the copious amount of drama about every aspect of your life. 

“Okay, enough about the annoying team principal,” Minjeong held her hand up, catching you off guard and dumbfounded. “I need to cut to the important part, your love life. Heeseung! You’ve barely been telling me about him,”

“I—well—there’s some good and bad things about my encounters with him,” you winced, recalling your drunken moment and that time on the beach. “The dates are all good, but I think the problem is me,”

“How so? Spill,”

“He told me he liked me,”

“What did you say?”

“I panicked,”

Minjeong was rendered speechless, silence overtaking your embarrassed smile while your best friend stared at you, unamused. “And why would you do that?”

“God, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up in defeat, body falling back into the couch. “The thing is, I don’t think I was ready. I was still figuring shit out, and it just … happened? I feel like a dickhead,”

“It’s normal, your feelings weren’t clear. He didn’t even react badly, that’s a plus point,” you listened to Minjeong, nodding along in agreement. “So, have you set your feelings straight now?”

“I have, I really do like him, I think I’m going insane at this point,” you ran a hand through your hair, chewing on your bottom lip. “I even told him I’m in love with him when I was drunk. Can you imagine that?”

“No, I can’t! You professing your love to a man? That’s a first from you,” she shook her head, a knowing smile growing on her lips. “I don’t see you acting this way with your ex either,”

“It’s different…” you mumbled under your breath, feeling heat travelling up to your cheeks. Here she was again, proving and pointing out something you didn’t even realise until then.

“It sure is,” she threw a pillow at you, cackling almost maniacally at your cowering figure. You were doing a poor job at hiding your shyness and blushing face.

The timing couldn’t have been any better when you heard a buzz coming from your phone, checking it just in time to see Heeseung’s contact name coming into view. Of course, Minjeong was already making noises when she saw your eyes widening, further proving her guess. You skimmed over his messages, and it seemed he had invited you to Jay’s yacht party. 

A party before race weekend? Risky, but who were you to say? Maybe you’d have to keep Jake in check first, remembering you’re still his trainer no matter what. Until then, you looked over at Minjeong, her raised eyebrow meeting your expectful gaze. 

“We have a party tonight.”

Let’s just say it was your first time being at a yacht party. Yachts weren’t an uncommon thing to have in Monaco as long as you had the money for it. Now that it was the grand prix weekend, only more turned up at the docks, and to think some of them were owned by the drivers themselves too was surprising. 

“Do you know anyone here?” Minjeong was sticking close to your side the moment you entered, being equally foreign considering a yacht wasn’t your typical go to party venue. You guessed you had to get used to it after knowing there would be a post race yacht party coming on Sunday. 

“Other than Jake, Heeseung and some drivers, no,” you offered an apologetic smile that wasn’t assuring in any way either. “But I bet there’s going to be good food and drinks here,” that was quick to buy Minjeong’s excitement.

championhee: you here yet?

you: am hereee, wru?

championhee: i see you, give me a sec

You glanced up from your phone, looking around but only seeing masses of people you weren’t familiar with, and the neon lights weren’t making it better for you, it was harder to match people to their faces. One turn to the left and you were just in time to catch Heeseung’s eyes, finally a face you recognised that seemed to melt your heart every single time. 

“Hey, pretty,” he ever so smoothly leaned down to swoop an arm around your waist, pulling you in a hug. If you had to be honest, it surely did surprise you, but you weren’t complaining. After that time you landed a peck on his cheek, you found yourself being much more touchy with him without your knowledge, and he surprisingly went along with it. 

“Hi, Hee. How’s the party?” he soon pulled away, the feeling of his embrace disappearing and the sweet scent of his cologne drifted further from you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? After all I invited you here,”

“You’re here longer than me, I wanted an insight,”

“An insight?” Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, Jay is almost drunk even though it’s his party and his yacht. Jake is off somewhere, I told him you’re coming and I wished you saw the look on his face, he knew he was in trouble—”

“I’ll hunt him down tomorrow, don’t worry,”

Heeseung let out a snort, shaking his head at the thought of Jake getting a beating from his trainer. “The rest of them are just partying and dancing,”

“What about some of these other people?” you nodded at some girls at the side, then eyed a few guys shamelessly flirting with other girls. 

“I’m not involved in Jay’s invite process, but I think some of them are models, friends or just—I don’t know—known? I don’t think I know these people either,” he laughed a little at the end, following your gaze but it only landed back to your face in the end. “I know you kinda hate partying on some random day before the race weekend, so if you want to, you can always tell me, and we can just dip to somewhere else,”

“I mean … I really want to take up that offer but—”

A cough interjected you. Talk about divine timing. Minjeong was back from her small trip around the yacht, a glass of cocktail held in her hand. Her piercing gaze was all it took for you to know what she was trying to say, so you pulled her close to your side. “Heeseung, this is my best friend, Minjeong,”

“Hi, I’m Lee Heeseung,” he offered a courteous bow of his head, smiling politely at Minjeong. She was scanning him eye to toe, trying her best to keep a stoic expression. 

“Nice to meet you,” she raised her glass slightly, shooting you a knowing grin paired with her glinting eyes. Oh, that totally meant Heeseung had passed Minjeong’s ‘test’. “So … you and Y/N, huh?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you let out a stiff laugh, narrowing your eyes at her as she continued to smile at you, fully aware of what she’s doing. 

She leaned close to your ear, whispering quietly so that only you and her were able to hear. “I’m going to leave you to him and go around looking for my man for the night,”

“How are you getting back?” you whispered in a hushed tone, giving her a pointed look.

“I’ll have my ways. I’ll text you and you better text me too. For now, you have your fun,” there was a finality in her tone, and before you could argue on, she stood straight, staring ahead at Heeseung. “She’s yours for the night …” Minjeong gave your shoulder a light pat, leaving your side and brushing past Heeseung. “... loverboy,” she added teasingly, then disappeared into the sea of people. 

“Ignore her,” you waved your hands awkwardly, but it seemed Heeseung wasn’t fazed at all, totally bemused on the contrary of what you expected.

“I think she’s cool,” he gave a thumbs up, prompting you to roll your eyes at him. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of the guys, then we’ll grab some drinks,”

“Sounds good,”

It was your first time being properly introduced to part of the drivers. You’ve seen most of them in passing and knew who they were, but not till the point of knowing them on a personal level, that was new to you. There was Jeno who drove for Ferrari alongside Heeseung that you got to meet, and also that really hot tattooed driver, Jungkook, from Mercedes. If Heeseung hadn’t pulled you away sooner, you would’ve probably swooned over Jungkook more, just like every other girl in the vicinity did. 

Heeseung proceeded to drag you to some other place. It was then you saw some familiar faces that you were already introduced to since the beginning. Jay, the host himself, was genuinely pissed drunk by the time you went up to greet him, but at least he was sober enough to form sentences so you guessed that’s something. Then there was Sunghoon, the driver of Red Bull Racing that was accompanied by your cousin, Jake, looking a little cold at first glance, but his features instantly melted into a big grin at the sight of you and his friend.

Some small talks with them didn’t hurt, but it was the blaring music that did, mostly for your eardrums. The crowded area was unfortunately a no-go either, so you and Heeseung decided to seek refuge somewhere else, ignoring the interested whispers from his three friends that watched the two of you sneak away.

“Here you go, your shirley temple,” you were on one of those couches that were placed on the deck, most of them being empty since everyone was situated at some other place in the yacht, giving you and Heeseung a chance of alone time together. You were sipping on the mocktail Heeseung passed you, feeling his presence next to you.

“It’s been such a week,” Heeseung sighed, stretching his limbs. “Visited the factory back in Italy, then finished some business there and having to fly back to Monaco, I think this is one of my first relaxation times,”

“This party? You should be home sleeping instead, Hee, that’s proper relaxation,” you could see the dark circles under his eyes now that he’s mentioned it.

“Just wanted to find an excuse to spend time with you,” he leaned his head back slightly, wearing a wry smile on his tired face.

“You don’t need an excuse for that, you can always just tell me whenever,”

Heeseung nodded slowly, taking a sip out of his own glass, an obvious wave of relief passed through him. Your eyes, however, were stuck on him. No, there wasn’t alcohol that influenced you to do so, your mocktail was surely nonalcoholic, it was the fact that you realised how in love with Heeseung you were. 

Uh oh, you like him.

Wait.

Oh, you're in love with him. 

Under the changing hues of purple, blue LED lights, you found yourself coming to terms that you were truly whipped and flashing heart eyes at him. You watched his every movement, the way he blinked or even sip at his drink, you scrutinised them all, because to you, he was a nova that shined the brightest amongst the rest. 

“You okay?” Heeseung noticed the change in your behaviour, the tiredness in his face morphed into concern as he leaned in close to check on you, not realising how near his face was. 

“Huh?” That was the only thing you could manage out, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips, gradually shrinking under the intensity of his stare and the closeness of his face. He knew, you did too, but why were both of you holding back? What were you so scared of?

Magically and suddenly, the thoughts in your mind somehow manifested into reality when he started closing in. You felt your breath catch in your throat, conveying a sign of green light through a reassuring nod, trying to ignore your heart beating abnormally fast.  

Then there it was, Heeseung’s lips on yours and a burst of butterflies swarmed your abdomen. Was it real? Was this actually happening? The lingering taste of his whiskey left a bitter tang on your tongue when you kissed back, wanting more but before you could let it progress deeper, it had already ended.

Heeseung pulled away, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. You thought he was going to kiss you again, and you tried smiling, thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. But it seemed your sweet daydream was immediately crushed to the ground when Heeseung gradually got up from the couch, the look on his face was telling you things weren’t going great.

“Hee?”

An apologetic look flashed across Heeseung’s expression. “Fuck—I’m sorry,” 

“Wait—!”

You couldn’t grasp onto him and he slipped right through your fingers. There you were, confused and feeling the opposite of what a kiss should give. Did something go wrong, you wondered, or were you just too late? Too late to realise your love for him when he had already told you earlier on about how he felt about you. What did he even mean by apologising to you?

You tried searching for him around the place, but he was nowhere to be seen, only managing to find a surprisingly sober Minjeong that sensed your panic and despair. There was nothing you could do but slump in defeat, pulling Minjeong out of the yacht and back home.

First kiss with the guy you liked went wrong. Sounded like some clickbait YouTube title, didn't it? Well, it was actually reality, your reality.

To your absolute dismay, the race weekend was horrendous, at least for you.

Ever since that night in the yacht, you came to the realisation that Heeseung was avoiding you. Right, avoiding you like a plague whenever you caught sight of him or vice versa. 

How did you know? Well, there were multiple occasions to explain it but the most memorable was the time when you bumped into him one morning at your front door. It was actually the morning after the party, freshly awake and still confused from the night before, you wanted to question him once you saw him by his door, but from the way his door slammed faster than the speed for you to form a sentence, you could tell he did not want that confrontation.

Minjeong said maybe the kiss had shocked him, but he was also the one that initiated it. All of the guesses just seemed to meet dead ends. The day you dropped Minjeong off at the airport was when you knew you were left on your own to deal with Heeseung and your heart. No matter how you try to text him or get him to not run away at the sight of you, in the end it kept failing.

The sadness eventually turned into frustration, which explained your unannounced presence at the Ferrari hospitality right before the race. Were you insane? Totally. 

You knew where he was, and it wasn't hard to spot when they literally had a room dedicated to their world champion, making it easier for you to locate and bust the doors down. If you had to be honest, you wished you did.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You took no time to fool around and got down to business the moment you closed the door shut behind you. There was no one other than him in the room, thankfully, or else you'd be dying out of embarrassment first.

Heeseung dropped his phone in shock, not expecting you to turn up there and then. “W–what?”

Was he serious? “Are you avoiding me?” You repeated, standing with a hand on your waist, staring accusingly at him.

“No …”

“You're lying,” Of course he was. You could tell by the way he was chewing on the insides of his cheek when he said it, and it definitely wasn't helping his case. “So … we're not going to talk about that night? The night where you ran away after we kissed?”

“It's not that—”

“Then what is it, Hee? Why are you making me feel this way? Are you mad at me?”

“No, I'm not,” he denied at once, eyebrows furrowing in distress. “I could never get mad at you …” he mumbled quietly, and it only made you sigh in further agitation.

“Why can't you just tell me?” 

“Look, Y/N, now's not really the best time, the race's about to start soon and I have to be down at the tracks in ten minutes, we don't have the time to talk it over,” as much as you hate to admit it, Heeseung was right, there was barely enough time to talk. “How about we have a proper talk after the race?”

“You won't run away from me again, will you?”

“I won't,”

You couldn't exactly say he lied but he didn't stick to his words either. 

Winning the grand prix naturally got him swarmed by an obscene amount of people after the race, giving you zero chance to congratulate him or even slip in a word. Leading up to the celebration on the podium and the time after that, you still didn't get to have that 'talk' with him, nor did you see him. 

He wasn't home by the time you returned to your apartment either. It only made your heart heavier as each hour passed, your expectations seemingly getting crushed. You had to begrudgingly put on a presentable outfit for the yacht party, nearly forgetting about this matter until Chaewon brought it up and promised herself that she'd get shitfaced. Good for her.

Arms looped and hips bumping into each other, you and Chaewon made your way through the crowded yacht. The pool on the deck was the least surprising element of the yacht when there was literally a celebrity DJ controlling the music. You've taught yourself to be less surprised now that you're working here.

“To be honest, this is kinda overwhelming,” Chaewon whispered, glancing around. 

“Parties are overwhelming in general,”

“Well, this one's on a yacht. A yacht, and there's a pool too,”

“You have a point,”

“I need a shot—several shots—and find Anton too, he's like, a baby,” Chaewon just really wouldn't let that intern engineer go, would she?

“Go, go, that kid is probably lost somewhere too,” you laughed, thinking about the new intern that happened to give everyone a lasting impression.

“What about you?”

“I'll be fine, I'll just grab some drinks and go. I'm tired,” you weren't lying, a day's work was enough to take you out, you were shocked to see Chaewon still having a crazy amount of energy left in her after that.

Tired was an understatement though. You felt your energy draining away when Chaewon left, and you were alone to wander around in a yacht with countless strangers. 

There were a few familiar faces you recognised, both drivers and colleagues, but none were Heeseung. That was disappointing.

However, almost on cue once you weaved past a group of people, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you when you spotted him. Jet black hair, a black silk button up hung loosely on his frame, except he was sitting amongst a bunch of … models? Laughing? 

Your expectations only dropped lower to the pits of hell. 

Oh, you felt sick. A horrible feeling of jealousy and anger bubbled in your abdomen. If you could, you would've stormed up to him and grabbed him by his collar demanding an explanation, but instead, you were stuck to your position, unmoving.

How could he just sit there and laugh? All while you were promised a talk that never even happened. Why? Because he didn't bother to find you. Right.

Before you knew it, you were already walking away, the crack in your heart becoming bigger, tiredness overcoming you. Maybe this life wasn't meant for you after all. What if you and him weren't even meant to be in the first place? He was a worldwide famous driver, and you were just his friend's cousin that worked as his trainer, that alone sounded too different, too much of a contrast.

It didn't help that your mind was overthinking at that point onwards. All you needed now was your bed and a romcom to cry to. You guess that was your night routine sorted out.

Who knew liking someone everyone wants was this hard?

— BARCELONA, SPAIN, 2023

Lee Heeseung wished he was a little smarter.

He may be an ace, flourishing in racing and everything that life throws at him, he was good at anything and everything. Feelings, however, were another matter for a world champion like him.

That night, that kiss, had altered his brain in a way that he couldn't explain. Heeseung was always aware that he's into you. Hell, he was the one initiating the dates and flirty cues, who was he kidding? But that kiss got him overthinking.

Heeseung knew you were most likely interested too, considering you've never once rejected his advances. Yet, the problem wasn't there, it was whether or not you liked him, like actually like him. That kiss, did it matter to you just as much as it did to him, he thought.

That night on the beach where he confessed didn't help his case of overthinking either. Concerns after concerns piling onto one another. Heeseung knew you didn't reject him, but he couldn't tell if you reciprocated the feelings for him. Then, there was also that time when you got drunk and practically confessed your love to him, no what was that? Without any explanation either? See, Heeseung was trying to justify the mess going on in his mind.

So, being the person that he was, he chose to run before he had the chance to be dumped. Yes, Lee Heeseung was a coward in disguise.

It was an easy way out, or so it seemed at first, until Heeseung started to feel guilty, regretful and heartbroken over the fact that he was doing this. Truly the consequences of his own actions. But, he couldn't bear to face you either. 

Seeing you filled him with emotions and thoughts that were simply unbearable. When you burst through the door to confront him, he was truly rendered speechless at the sight of you. It was as if his ability to speak and think was taken away from him momentarily, and that only made him a fool while he tried to explain. 

He wanted to get close to you, he yearned to do so, to tell you how he felt and the entire truth, but he was holding himself back just because he figured he wasn’t ready for all that yet. It was indeed eating Heeseung from the inside out. That explained the reason why Barcelona was doing the opposite of cheering up, everything there was much duller and depressing from his point of view.

“Are you okay?” Jeno's voice broke Heeseung out of his trance. He wasn't even aware he was zoning out. 

“Yeah, why?” Heeseung got up from his spot to join Jeno, figuring it's time to prepare for the race.

“Dude, you've been so out of it this whole weekend—no—whole week, actually. Practice rounds, qualifiers, you're not driving like you normally are, and you just don't seem like yourself,” Jeno patted Heeseung's back, and Heeseung himself had a whole new revelation thanks to Jeno's eye opening observations. Maybe it was also your lack of presence that bugged him. Heeseung hasn't seen you around the paddock the whole week, and neither did he bother asking Jake since their schedules were too full with interviews and what not.

“I'll try to tune myself back, don't worry,” Heeseung gave Jeno a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, offering a slight smile. “Thanks for checking up on me. I need to find someone real quick before I get to the track, you go without me first,”

That ‘someone’ Heeseung had in mind was none other than you.

Heeseung probably looked like an unhinged racer walking around trying to search for you. He stopped by the Mclaren hospitality, then the Mclaren garage, but none of them had you there. 

He could only sigh, having to be forced to end his search since the race was starting soon. Was it bad to admit that he couldn't really think straight at that moment? All he had on his mind was you and you and only you. 

Lee Heeseung was never once nervous for a race. But this time, he was. 

The start wasn't the best for him, and he was having an overall weak start. The usual red Ferrari car that was meant to be leading the race suddenly fell behind there in Barcelona. He had a feeling the commentators were about to point it out. 

Heeseung has experienced bad races before. Ones that didn't go his way, technical failures, DNFs, but this one was just a plain disaster. There was nothing wrong with his car, it was him. He couldn't wait to get out of the car now that he knew he wasn't getting on that podium.

What almost felt forever and countless rounds of driving, Heeseung ended up in seventh place. Not the worst, but obviously not his best. He didn't even want to engage in interviews after the race, going straight to his hospitality and changing back into his usual clothes. 

“That wasn't like you,” Jake, being the caring friend that he was, had paid Heeseung a visit right before he left. Just like the drivers had done, the first thing he brought up was Heeseung's performance.

“I know,” Heeseung hummed, shrugging it off. “Just caught up with some … stuff,”

Jake didn't say much either, nodding in understanding. “I'll be here if you need anything, just so you know,”

“I know,” Heeseung said again, this time with a smile, then his mind redirected to a question he has been itching to ask Jake all week. “Uh—don't mind if I ask, where's Y/N?”

“Oh, Y/N? She didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She took a whole week of sick leave,” 

“She's sick?”

“Well, she didn't say she's sick but she said she's not feeling well enough to work,” Jake scratched his head, oblivious to Heeseung's deepening frown. 

“So, she's still in Monaco? She didn't leave at all?”

“Nope. After last week, she's still there,”

“Oh,” Heeseung knew what to do now. All it took was a disaster of a race and a whole lot of sleepless nights to overcome his fear and confront you once and for all. “I should get going,”

“You're not going to join me and Dokyeom for dinner?” 

“Maybe next time,”

Heeseung was going to make things right. He wasn't going to run away again, nor repeat the stupidest thing which was pulling the avoidance card. He's finally going to be honest about his thoughts and feelings. 

Flight booked and leaving in an hour. A two hour flight for him to collect his thoughts and soon he'd be back in Monaco, just in time to knock on your door and make things right.

Heeseung had a one way flight ticket to Monte Carlo, a whole dialogue he prepared in his head, and a dream. It was going to be alright.

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Staying in bed and mulling around wasn't a part of your original plan.

You thought having this time to yourself was going to be spiritually and mentally cleansing, giving you enough space to get yourself together, but it was doing the opposite. 

To think that you're, in fact, being sad over a man was quite incredulous. But it was Heeseung, somehow or rather, he wasn't just a man. Curse him and his apartment next to yours, you couldn't stop thinking about him even though he wasn't there.

During the days you were at home, you thought it over, about Heeseung and your feelings for him, all of which returned to the same conclusion. You liked him, very much so, and you were hurting that he was physically ghosting you. The more you think about it the more you try to find solutions which end up failing. Thus, you were in a slump and merely survived by listening to Minjeong's pep talk over the phone.

“He'll turn up,” you remembered her saying, sounding so confident that you were somewhat surprised. She was actually confident in a man … that was a rare sight.

“How do you know?”

“It's Heeseung.”

It really was Heeseung. That was what you thought too when you heard your doorbell ringing, peeking through your peephole just to see his face. Was it the wrong timing to admit you've missed him?

There was no way you could be so heartless to not open the door, especially when you've been spending most of your time thinking about him and the possibilities of what he'd say. So, you opened the door, eyes meeting his much tired and saddened pair, a sense of familiarity ran through you. 

It was currently almost nine o'clock, the sky was dark and the streets were more quiet, but how in hell was Lee Heeseung standing in front of you when there was just a race hours ago? You were literally watching the race too, recalling Heeseung's off-putting performance that shocked everyone, including you.

“Heeseung?”

He seemed to have broken out of his trance, mouth opening just a little, trying to utter a single word but nothing came out. You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, wishing he could say something, anything at this point.

“Do you like me?”

When you said you wish he could say something, this was the least expected one.

“What?”

Heeseung heaved a breath, looking slightly disappointed … at himself? He rubbed a hand on his face, frowning deeply. “Fuck—I swear I had a whole monologue for this, but I saw you and I just … couldn't think anymore,”

You gulped, the edge in his voice paired with his longing eyes made you shift your foot nervously. “Why are you here?” It didn't come out malicious or rageful, instead it sounded like defeat and tiredness, as if you've surrendered yourself. “Weren't you in Spain a few hours ago?”

“I figured we should have our talk,”

“Took you long enough,” you grumbled under your breath, a sour expression unknowingly pulled at your features. 

“I know, I'm sorry,”

You were silent for a moment, blinking furiously and formulating your words carefully. “You ran away from me, again, but you said you wouldn’t. You lied,”

“I know,” it came out as a bare whisper, emotions filled to the brim, regret and guilt evident in every letter. 

You didn't know what to say next, all the emotions trapped in you melted through your gaze, a mix of sadness, anger and desperation was calling out to Heeseung. His 'sorry' didn't make you feel better in any way either. If you had to be completely honest, you wanted to be mad, you wished to be angry at him and yell out every one of your frustrations that built up over the weeks, but it never happened.

“Heeseung, I don't really get you. What do you want from me?” you started, nearly pleadingly, backing up from the door as a way to tell him to come in, and thankfully, he got the signal. The door shut with a click of the lock, his figure approaching slowly. “One day you say you like me, we kissed, you proceeded to ignore me, then I saw you with girls at the party, and now you're asking if I like you? What am I supposed to do? Do you just secretly hate me or something?”

“What? No!” Heeseung scrunched his face up in confusion, but it soon dissolved into a look of helplessness, seeming equally awkward and stiff as you, both not knowing what to do. “God, I didn’t do anything with those girls, Yeonjun dragged me there and tried to set me up but I reciprocated nothing. You’re the one I want, Y/N,” there was a recognisable truth and honesty behind his voice, and you believed him. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I did some thinking—a lot, actually—and I'm a dumbass for ignoring you and running away after we kissed. But it's for a reason,”

“And that is …?”

Heeseung's shoulders sagged, sighing deeply. “I was scared you didn't like me,” he started, eyes flickering between you and the painting behind you, “—I know it sounds stupid but I just couldn't help but think about it. That night I told you how I felt … I thought it was fine when you didn't tell me an answer, yet it ate me up gradually after you said you were in love with me? But you were also drunk? You didn't say anything after and I didn't too,

“When we kissed, I wondered if you'd regret it, or that you didn't feel the way I did, I guess it got the worst of me so I chose to run before you could do anything,” he finally admitted the reasons behind his whole avoiding game, leaving you rather speechless in a way you couldn't comprehend. “It's stupid for me to do that, I know, that's why I'm here now, and I swear to you that I'm not going anywhere until we talk it out,”

You took in his words, trying your best to absorb it all, but his voice saying 'do you like me' was the only thing running through your mind.

‘Like’ would be an understatement when it came to your feelings for Heeseung. There were no limits, no boundaries whatsoever, nothing that just stopped at the word ‘like’. You felt for him, in a way that was indescribable and deeper than you've ever experienced before.

“I want you, Y/N, but I want you to want me too, that's what I want from you. I know you're mad and I get it—”

“I like you too,” the confession flowed out much more naturally than you had anticipated it to be. It was a part of you that you've held onto for so long, and finally, you're able to let it go, telling Heeseung your true feelings.

Heeseung blinked, mouth slightly ajar. “W–what?”

“I like you, Heeseung, a lot.” It took more than just mental strength for you to come to terms and admit it aloud, but you weren’t regretting a single thing either way, finally feeling the heavy weight being lifted off your chest. “I like you and your obsession with ramen, the way you smile or laugh, or how your nose crinkles everytime you laugh. I like every part of you, I–I think I might be in love with you,”

Heeseung could see the nervousness coming off you, your voice already shaking a little. He wanted to just rush towards you and pull you into his arms, but it wasn’t the best idea considering the situation. So, he stayed rooted to the ground, his gaze turning softer as seconds ticked by.

“I want you, more than you could ever think or fathom. I always did. I'm sorry I didn't make it clear in the beginning when you told me. I was still figuring all of it out and how I felt, so I just … froze. Then drunk me decided to tell you what I was scared to admit, but all of it was true—the things I said—so there's that,” you tried putting on a smile, but it wasn't much either. “When we kissed, I didn't regret it, not one bit and never would I ever think that. You mean a lot to me, Hee, and I'm sorry I didn't make you feel that way but I really, really like you, and I wish I had told you sooner,”

Heeseung was silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed and he had an unreliable expression that made you unnerved. However, it all melted away in the second, the corners of his lips were pulled up into a small smile, a certain reassurance hidden behind it. You felt balance and peace being restored gradually. “Are you kidding? You do make me feel that way. You don't understand how insane you get me every time. Y/N, you could get me to drop anything and anywhere if you want, even if it's in the middle of a race I'm leading. You make me feel more than you know of it,”

It was one of those times where everything felt like a movie. Heeseung professing his love for you in the middle of your living room was the last you’d come to conclusions, and it was surreal to think about. He had already shown you his devotion by showing up at your doorstep, there was obviously no doubt in what he said.

“I’ll be honest,” you began, chewing on your lips at the thought, “I'm still a little mad at you for doing what you did though,” you admitted rather pettily, crossing your arms and staring pointedly at him. “I can't believe you'd think I don't like you when I literally kissed you back,”

Heeseung was relieved that the mood was lightened a bit more, being able to crack a smile and chuckle quietly. “I panicked. I was scared of ruining everything we had,”

You couldn’t help but frown, mainly out of the solemnity his words carried. Heeseung didn’t want to ruin the connection you and he had, choosing to carry the burden that ended up hurting the two of you. “I get it, I wasn't any better too for being so vague. I accept your apology, and I'm sorry too,”

“Apology accepted,” Heeseung started approaching you, taking strides across the space separating you two until he was directly in front of you, looking vulnerable and bare, laying his heart out just for you. “So … we're cool then?”

“Yeah, we're cool,” you nodded much faster than you thought, showing off an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm that you didn’t hold back, “but …”

He was intrigued, wondering what he was getting into. “But?”

“I don't want us to go back to being just friends,”

Heeseung paused, opening his mouth just to shut it again, the confusion turned into amusement, his grin widening. “I'd be crazy to come all the way just to friendzone you,” he shook his head, “We've done the dates, practically said what we wanted to say, all that's left now is …” 

You knew what he was intending, and so did he. He has an eyebrow raised, one corner of his lips curved into a lopsided smirk. “So … what do you say? Can I be yours?”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped closer to him daringly, closing the distance between one another. There was a beat of silence, the only sound filling the air was your breathing and his shaky breaths. Then, you decided to do the craziest thing.

“I thought you'd never ask,” those were the last words uttered from your mouth when you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips onto his. You could feel Heeseung freeze under your touch, but it didn’t long for him to calm his nerves and relax, melting further into the kiss and letting his hands roam to your face and waist.

This was nothing like the first kiss you shared with Heeseung. It was something much more than that. There was a sense of urgency that you and him both knew and acknowledged. An overwhelming amount of longing and desire was finally conveyed through the kiss, telling you what you needed to know from the way Heeseung tilted his head to deepen the kiss, smiling against your lips after. 

Fireworks exploded internally, your mind was blank, the only thing in your head was the thought of him and the feeling of his lips. It was a new feeling, his lips moving against yours was almost like a fitted puzzle piece, too perfect and incomparable. It was a feeling you craved to have forever.

Before anything could advance further, you pulled away slowly, catching your breath in meantime. Looking at Heeseung, he was already staring at you, eyes filled with love and admiration. It was just silence, but you were basking in it, relishing the moment and his presence.

Heeseung leaned down to peck your lips, then again, and again on both sides of your cheeks, nose, forehead, and back to your lips once more. “I like you so much, more than the feeling of my cold pillow, or ramen, o–or even winning a race,”

All it took was one look at your face and seeing your smile to have Heeseung's nervousness disappear, replaced with a love filled smile that resembled the glow of the golden hour. A kiss from you was enough of a response, expressing your feelings more than words were capable of, whispering cheesy compliments to each other in an attempt to get one of you to laugh. 

“I guess I can say I'm a champion now?” Heeseung held you in his arms, his gaze holding yours. 

“Not quite,” 

“I finally got the girl I'm in love with. I consider myself as a champion, actually,” you were trying not to show how flustered you really were when he said he's in love with you aloud, catching you off guard for a second.

“You're never not going to be cheesy, aren't you?” 

“Never,” Heeseung gave your waist a squeeze, admiring the way you laughed along with the crinkles of the corner of your eyes. “I'll win the championship for you too,” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “For me? Shouldn't it be for yourself?”

Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips a little. “I never really had someone other than my family to dedicate it to, and I want you to be that someone, my someone,” 

Eyes rolling but that smile on your face gave it all away. “Well, I can't wait for you to win it, Mr World Champion … my world champion.” 

Never in a million years would you expect yourself to be cheesily flirting with an F1 driver, but here you were. There was one thing that Heeseung made you feel for the first time in years, and that was love, irrevocable love that you would never trade anything for.

— ABU DHABI, UAE, 2023

It has finally reached the last race of the season. 

Everyone in the stands, paddock and garage alike were all nervously moving around. Some anticipating the outcome, others betting money on it, the ones working in the garage were holding their breaths. 

There were still a few hours left to lights out and you were giving your usual pep talk to Jake, except this time it was a little more harsher. Being third in the championship leaderboard, you were immensely proud of his achievements, and you were encouraging him to give it one last shot. He gave you a salute before walking away to discuss some last minute strategies with his teammate, so you took it as a chance to slip away under Jake's nose to find Heeseung.

Jake was rather oblivious about you and Heeseung, but to be fair, everyone was, maybe except Minjeong who definitely screamed into your ear when you told her everything. 

Sneaking into Heeseung's hospitality has been one of your greatest skills over the past few weeks. You go in greeting the staff all friendly, pretending to be looking for a friend working there (which wasn't completely a lie) then you proceed to slip into his room. It was a day like before, but this time, Heeseung was already waiting by the door, and the moment you walked in, barely closing the door, he had you in his arms and lifted off your feet. 

“Heeseung” You squealed at the sudden approach, his spin only making you kick your feet in the air, your hand hitting his back.

“Hey, pretty,” he set you down back on the ground, a playful grin drawn on his face, arm still looped around your waist. “Missed you—” he brushed his nose against yours, giving you a small peck that left you blushing, “—like crazy”

“Hee, I saw you physically two days ago,” you rubbed his back, letting him press gentle kisses on every part of your face. 

“That's still a long time,”

You snorted at his never changing dramatic response, pinching his shoulder and he pouted at you like a wronged puppy. “Last race, you think you got it?”

“‘You think’? I know I do,” typical Heeseung, full of confidence and carrying himself with pride, you were to know by now to not doubt him. “I win this—all of this—will you let me ask you to be mine? Officially?”

Your gaze softened, your hand on his shoulder tightened a little, offering him a warm smile for more assurance. “It doesn't matter when or where you ask me, whatever the circumstances are, you already know my answer to it whether or not you win,”

Heeseung tugged you closer to him, your front basically pressed against his, only a few mere inches distanced you and him apart. “I know,”

“I’ll wait then,” your hand rested on his chest, your smile telling him there was nothing to worry about. “I’ll wait for the exact moment you cross the finish line and win it all,”

“Trust me, I'm going to.”

Situated in the Mclaren garage, you held your breath watching the fight between Heeseung and Jungkook for first place. Jungkook from Mercedes was second on the championship leaderboard, points only a fraction away from Heeseung, causing a tension-filled season of rivalry. For the last race, they were soon going to end it once and for all, concluding a winner of the season, explaining your sweaty forehead thanks to the nerves.

“Okay, Heeseung or Jungkook,” Chaewon brought up out of the blue when there were five laps left, Heeseung still leading but Jungkook occasionally giving many heart attacks by closing in.

“Heeseung,” you and Sakura both said in unison, clapping in excitement knowing you had the same picks. 

“Boo, I’m team Jungkook,” Chaewon frowned, watching Heeseung and Jungkook’s gap widening. 

“You’re kidding,” Sakura nudged Chaewon in surprise, whereas you kept quiet, a raised eyebrow being your response.

“Jungkook’s hot and beefy and tall, he’s also tattooed, you know?” Chaewon was practically drooling, dazedly starstruck. “Plus, he’s super nice and can drive,”

“Heeseung’s the same too,” you were quick to defend your man, though toning it down a bit to not come off too aggressive or suspicious. “Well … except the tattooed, beefy part,”

“That’s two points deducted,”

“It’s two against one so Heeseung won,” Sakura ended the debate, pointing at the screen to divert Chaewon’s attention. “He’s basically winning too,”

He really was. One lap left and he was inching closer to the finish line. The clock was ticking, your blood was thrumming, the shouts coming from people around you were tuned out. Your sole focus was trained on his red Ferrari car, the finish coming in view. One second passed, two seconds, three seconds, four …

“LEE HEESEUNG IS A FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION!”

Claps and shouts of congratulations rang throughout the garage for Heeseung. The Mclaren duo had come in third and fifth places individually, heightening the atmosphere to great heights at the news of grand results as an end to the season. You were on your feet, hugging both Sakura and Chaewon, them being unbeknownst to your actual elation.

All of you rushed out of the garage, managing to squeeze past the reporters and their cameras to the front of the barricade, seeing the top three drivers getting out of their cars. Jungkook who came in second congratulated Heeseung, but Chaewon’s fangirling beside you mostly distracted you. What can you say, her devotion to Jungkook was understandable in some ways. 

It was then you caught Heeseung’s eyes in the midst of everything. Sweat covered his face and drenched his hair, but it only made him glow under the night sky and bright lights. You didn’t even have the time to process it all. He was taking big strides towards you, not giving a care if every pair of eyes were on him, all he had on his mind was you. 

You opened your mouth to congratulate him as he approached you, but before you could say anything, he had already pressed his lips onto yours the moment he was in front of you. 

Gasps and the clicking sound of cameras were heard, yet you gathered everything in you to shut your eyes and kissed him back. Kissing him wasn't hard, it was natural, far too natural like it was an instinct. His lips moved against yours gently, loving and pouring out his overflowing want for you.

All heads were turned over to gawk at you and Heeseung. It was hard to ignore the burning stares and flashes of camera lights, so you pulled away from him (reluctantly) to save yourself from being plastered everywhere on the media, which seemed a bit too late by now.

“Let me be your boyfriend?” He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to catch on and flash him one of his favourite smiles. 

Hard to hide your excitement and happiness, you nodded feverishly, the corners of your lips were pulled upwards. “Yes,” you pressed a swift kiss on his lips, your face burning to the brim, completely the opposite of Heeseung who managed to maintain his composure.

“My beautiful girl, what should we do now?” Heeseung cheekily commented, talking as if he wasn't standing right in front of a huge crowd right after winning another world championship. He knew damn well he had to get onto the podium and celebrate like there's no tomorrow.

“Well, my world champion boyfriend, as much as I wish to hoard you, you should go celebrate already,”

He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear. “I'll let you hoard me all you want after,” shooting you a wink, he waved goodbye and left, disappearing into a crowd of people and leaving you flustered along with your dumbfounded colleagues.

“What was … that?” Chaewon slowly turned to look at you.

“Oh my God, you're dating Lee?” Sakura gasped for maybe the hundredth time already. “Okay, that's probably why he's a winner, huh? Because he has Mrs Lee here—”

“YOU'RE WITH HEESEUNG?” 

Shit.

Jake came into view, strands of hair stuck to his face didn't help his distress look either. No doubt, confusion was written all over his face, a raised eyebrow that was expecting an answer from you.

“Jake! Podium!” One of the staff shouted over at him. He, who placed third, didn't seem like he wanted it now that he has something else to uncover.

“You owe me an explanation.” Jake wasn't angry at all, he just looked thoroughly confused at the fact that one of his best friends was with his … cousin? Slash trainer, slash assistant, you get the gist. But at the same time, he also had that 'I knew it' shit-eating grin plastered on his face that you were very familiar with, he probably knew it was coming, didn't he?

Jake was eventually pushed to the back of your mind for the time being, mentally taking notes to deal with him after, but for now, the celebration was the crucial part of the night.

Watching Jake on that podium made you emotional, you couldn't lie. It reminded you of the many times you've seen him win at tournaments, and now, at F1 races, which was absolutely surreal. 

Gazing up at the stage where the podium was, your eyes followed Heeseung's figure appearing, and listened to his name being called on the speakers, the title of world champion belonging to him. He stood high and proud on the podium, eyes searching for someone in the crowd. Turns out, it was you he was looking for.

He mouthed your name the moment he locked eyes with yours, face visibly beaming like a star in the night. 'For you' was what came from his lips next, his finger pointing at the trophy in his hand then back at you. He was dedicating it to you, just as he said.

The smile on your face was evident to everyone how whipped you were for him, even giggling as you waved at him. Heeseung, being the person that he was, blew a flying kiss at you right before the national anthem played, and you were stuck there in shock. At this point, you should be prepared for things like that.

The night eventually rolled into the early morning. Heeseung was back at the hotel with you, secretly hiding out in your room while everyone else was mostly still out partying. It was just the two of you, on your bed with some room service as snacks.

“Shouldn't you go party with them instead of being stuck here with me?” You shoved a french fry into your mouth, not regretting your choice of returning early from the party to have a mini one on your own, plus Heeseung as an addition.

“I would rather be stuck here with you than with them,” Heeseung leaned onto your side, face obnoxiously getting closer, “You know I'll always choose you,” 

Even under the dim lights, you could make out the sparks hidden behind his stare. “You're my girl after all,” he added, ever so smoothly throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Isn't that crazy? You're my girl, my girl!” He dramatically gasped, feigning disbelief that you were, in fact, his.

“Yes, I am your girl, you idiot,” you reached to pinch his nose, and his face scrunched up, the biggest smile appearing on his face. Before you could retreat your hand, he had already grabbed onto it, fingers eventually making contact with yours and intertwined. “What are you doing?” It was a small whisper, curious and anticipating.

“This—” one pull of his hand, he yanked onto yours and pulled you into him, catching your face gently and pressing his lips onto yours. 

The only way to describe your thoughts was insanity. His small stunt had left you fighting for yourself internally, blood pulsing and heart skipping. He was the death of you.

You pushed him away after a few moments, having to catch your breath, but mostly to regain your composure. “Oh my God,” you breathed out, neither of you looking away from each other. “You're … wow,”

“Too cliche?”

“Is it bad if I admit I eat it up every time?”

“I don't have any more up my sleeves, I'm afraid,” he laughed, joking light-heartedly, turning his  head slightly to the side. “Can I have one more?”

“One more?” You hummed, fingers rubbing your chin in thought, continuously teasing him. “Why should I?”

“I asked nicely,” he poked at his cheek expectantly, lips jutting out in a pout. “Please?”

Only you could have Heeseung act this way. The reigning Formula One champion, could you believe that?

You didn't say anything, leaning in and pressed a peck on the spot he pointed out on his cheek. A satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know, his hold on your hand tightening. “I'm in love with you,” he confessed, a spur of the moment kind of confession that you were already aware of, but to hear him say it again got your heart skipping in ways you didn't know. “I'm basically the luckiest man in the world right now,”

“Shouldn't I be the lucky one too?” You nudged at his ribs softly, unable to contain your laugh. “I'm lucky to have you with me, like super lucky,”

Heeseung crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows with a pinch of amusement. “Really?”

“Really. I get to have good ramen whenever I want,” you grinned foolishly at him, seeing his face morphed into a look of disbelief. You shook your head, stifling your laughter at his reaction. “But I like you more than your home cooked ramen,”

Warmth spread over his expression, a soft glow to his features under the light brought out the way he stared at you, irises written with words he couldn't convey with his mouth. He was undeniably head over heels, it was already clear from the look of his eyes, they never lie.

“I don't think Chaewon's coming back tonight, she'll probably crash in Sakura's room,” you gave his hand a light squeeze, glancing over at the clock for a split second, it was already past two. “Can you stay?”

Heeseung's expressions were filled with love and affection, a softness to them that he only had with you. You already knew his answer before he had to say it out loud. “I'll stay. You know I'll always do.”

Somehow, you knew his simple promise for the night carried something more to it. It wasn't just a promise that lasted for a night, it was for a lifetime ahead of you. Because you knew, no matter what, he would always stay. 

From the front door of your apartment to a random hotel room in Abu Dhabi almost a year later, it was crazy to think that a Formula One world champion had scored his biggest win yet: the girl next door, his oblivious neighbour that wasn't even aware of him or his popularity in the first place.

Turns out, meeting his oblivious neighbour was one of his greatest moments in life ever, because now, Lee Heeseung might not know what to do without you. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[moon-reblogs]

you've got to be kitten me! ☆ jungwon yang

☆ class president! jungwon x troublemaker! fem! reader ☆ summary: jungwon yang, the stuck-up class president, had a secret: at night, he transformed into a cat. when you, the class's residential troublemaker (and one of the people that jungwon simply couldn't bring himself to understand), accidentally discovered his secret, jungwon found himself questioning his role in the school hierarchy. ☆ genre: fluff!!!! highschool! au, classmates to friends to lovers!!! very silly supernatural occurances, follows the asian school system btw, jungwon is lowk a loser and kinda assholey at the beginning ☆ warning(s)? this is very silly!! minor violence (toward animals) ☆ word count: 15.8k ☆ this isn't my usual writing style, or even my usual progression of events, but i was rlly inspired by those old shoujo animes so i tried to emulate certain features common in that genre! lmk what u think! btw it's not edited, i will go back and edit later but rn i'm j tired lol enjoy!

There were two things that Jungwon Yang hated:

Troublemakers, and teachers that talked too much.

Unfortunately, he was now sitting in a room with both types of people.

"You know why you're here right, [Name]?" 

[Name] [Last Name]. You were the class’s relentless troublemaker. He’d known you since elementary and middle school, and you’ve always been the same. Brusque, aggressive, and a little too happy to use your fists.

Jungwon and you were in the same year, and he was the class president. Currently, the class advisor, Jungwon, and you were seated in your shared homeroom class after school. 

Simply put, you've been causing trouble for the past few weeks, whether it be arguing with teachers or other classmates. Initially, the class advisor decided that although you were causing trouble, it was barely disruptive. 

Until today. When you punched a classmate, a guy named Jiho Jang, in the face.

You leaned back in your chair, rolling your eyes. Your gaze hardened, before you let out a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

As Class President, it was Jungwon's job to collaborate with the class advisor to enforce school rules and punish those that failed to adhere to them. His lips curled at your sheer lack of regard for anything around you. It was annoying how you broke every rule in the book, prancing around like you owned the place. Why was it so difficult to just not cause trouble?

"Jungwon, what do you think?"

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, "I think [Name] broke a rule—" you cocked a brow at him, but he ignored you, "By assaulting another student, she should be punished for it, shouldn't she?"

Being the Class President, Jungwon had learned to be well-spoken and level-headed, but sometimes, it was utterly difficult to keep a diplomatic attitude. Because although he disliked people that caused trouble, he disliked teachers that talked a lot just as much.

The class advisor went on talking for a few more minutes, using many words but truly saying nothing. Jungwon learned how to make it look like he was listening when he really wasn't, nodding his head and smiling mindlessly. 

God, just shut up, he wanted to blurt, but he caught himself.

Meanwhile, you clearly did not give a fuck. You looked at your nails, yawned, rolled your eyes, put your feet on the table. You even let out a very loud exasperated sigh. It was almost laughable the way you didn’t care, to the point that Jungwon almost caught himself letting out a laugh at your clear and abject expressiveness.

"Well, Jungwon, as class president," the advisor finally finished her long and drawn-out speech about school rules, "What do you think [Name]'s punishment should be?"

"Punishment?" It wasn't like Jungwon didn't punish people for breaking rules, but for him to punish someone directly felt so foreign to him. "Well, [Name] explained that she did what she did today in defense of another student, and there's evidence to back her up." Jungwon glanced at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "So, I think we should give her lunch detention for a week."

Jungwon disliked you. No, he disliked your behavior. But as the President, he was fair. You had thorough evidence to back you up, so he decided on a punishment that reflected on your circumstances.

Except, the advisor audibly reacted. "Ooh, I don't know about that."

Jungwon's brows furrowed. That was a more than reasonable punishment. "Why not?"

"None of the teachers are available to sit in for lunch detention this or next week," the advisor explained. "What about suspension for a week?"

Suspension wasn't even remotely similar to lunch detention! 

"No!" Jungwon blurted. When he realized his outburst, Jungwon felt his ears burn. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I feel like a suspension is too extreme of a punishment."

His eyes flickered over to you. 

You better thank me, he thought.

 "If it's possible, I don't mind administrating lunch detention this week and next week, since none of the teachers are available."

The class advisor stayed silent for a few moments, before collecting her papers in a neat stack, and shoving it into her desk. "Very well, then." She turned to you. "[Name], you will have lunch detention starting tomorrow. Jungwon will be administrating it."

Then, you were dismissed. Jungwon had to stay back for a few minutes to discuss other class plans with the advisor, before leaving himself. By the time Jungwon walked out of the school building, the sun was beginning to set. However, as he walked out into the school courtyard, he spotted you.

You stood alone under a plum blossom tree. The pink-yellow flowers, now beginning to blossom as winter flew by, were sprawled across the ground, and your shoes, covered in dirt from the early-spring rain, trampled all over them with little regard. As you always did.

And, before he knew it, Jungwon was walking toward you.

It was common courtesy, at least for him, to greet whoever he saw.

"[Name]!" he called out, lips moving faster than his mind. Your head whipped over to him, quirking a brow. 

"Hi?" you looked at him with suspicion.

He couldn't blame you. Jungwon and you were on completely different spectrums of the school social hierarchy. Jungwon was well-known with a clean reputation, and you were infamous at least and a delinquent at most. It wasn't like he had never interacted with you before, but those interactions were few and far between. 

"... Did you need something?" You almost looked irritated that he was talking to you. Were you incapable of at least pretending like you cared?

"I just, " Jungwon had to admit, your gaze was intimidating. He’d heard rumors of you beating up kids that tried to talk to you, and although they were a little ridiculous, Jungwon wanted to be cautious. But, when words came to mind, his wobbly lips formed a soft, forced, smile. "I just wanted to say, I thought it was cool that you punched Jiho today."

When you only stared at him incredulously, Jungwon continued.

"Like,  It was cool that you were trying to defend someone, and I thought that Jiho really deserved it," Jungwon added. "I'm sorry about the detention thing."

He was being partially truthful. Of course, Jiho had it coming. Anyone that picked on underclassmen were just shitty, but cool to use violence against him? Maybe not. It was the first word that came to his mind.

A few silent pulses passed, and Jungwon shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Thanks?" you said slowly, your expression painted with confusion— because why was the Class President praising you for assaulting someone? "Um, I don't think you need to apologize."

Jungwon nodded, his fake smile still painted across his cheeks, ready to spill more courteous words at you.

"You were just doing your job— Hey, are you okay?"

A sudden fuzzy feeling at the back of Jungwon’s head pierced through him. Almost like a switch had turned off inside him, Jungwon was suddenly wobbly on his feet, his eyes looking cloudy and dazed, rolling back in his head. 

"Hey, Jungwon—" you grabbed his arm to hold him upright, your brows crashing together. "Jungwon, are you okay?"

Jungwon's knees felt weak, his head full of static. When his eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, it was a dark, gray-blue mixed with orange.

Shit, he should have kept track of the time. For someone who prided himself for how responsible he was, Jungwon had to admit that he was a little stupid right now. As Jungwon slowly slipped out of consciousness, his mind raced. No, no, no. He did not want this to happen right now, not in front of you.

You freaked out, frantically holding onto him. Why was Jungwon Yang practically fainting on you?

All of a sudden, a big puff of smoke appeared. As you coughed, using your hand to wave away the smoke, you noticed that Jungwon's shoulders were no longer in his hands. In fact, his entire person disappeared from in front of you.

When the smoke cleared, Jungwon was no longer with you. Instead, there was just a pile of his clothes before your feet.

"Jungwon?" you asked, bewildered out of your mind. "Hey, Jungwon, what the fuck just"

Meow!

Did something just meow-

Meeeeowwww!

From under the pile of clothes, a small, black cat poked its head out. Your jaw dropped, panic overtaking your system.

The cat let out another meow, before it began inching toward you. Out of sheer panic, you took many steps back, letting out a small yelp of fear.

"Stay back, cat!" you cried.

Meeeeowwww! the cat meowed at you, only inching closer to you. Each step it took toward you, you stepped back, until your back was pressed against the tree. 

Who could blame you? Jungwon Yang just disappeared into thin air before your eyes, only to leave a cat! How could you not be afraid of that cat?

However, instead of killing you (or whatever you thought would happen if the cat got too close), the cat only pawed at your shoe. It let out another meow, but this time a much softer one. It continued to paw at your shoe, meowing profusely like it was trying to tell you something.

You watched it in disbelief.

You've seen many cats before, it wasn't like seeing a cat was some rarity to you. Just... where the hell did Jungwon go?

Experimentally, you reached out to touch the cat, only for it to jump away from you. You blinked at it. You and the cat stared at each other for a few moments, before it seemed to let out a small huff and stepped toward you. You reached out to it again, and this time, it didn’t jump away. You picked up the cat, holding up to your face so that it was at eye-level.

"Hey, kitty," you gently said, a small frown painting itself on your lips. You pet its soft, black fur, your fingers gracing its ears. Looking around, you bring the cat closer to your face. "Do you know where Jungwon went?"

Meow! was all you got in response, making you frown even more. You gently rubbed your thumb over its nose and soft, black fur.

"Did you take him, kitty?" you wondered, more to yourself than anything. When the cat only meowed, you couldn't help but crack a grin. You booped its nose, before cradling it in your arms. 

You glanced at the pile of Jungwon's clothes a few inches away from you. You looked around, for any sign of him or anyone at all, before sighing to yourself. You crouched down, placing the cat down, too. You neatly folded the pile of clothes, tucking it under your arm. You picked up the cat once more, scanned the courtyard, and started your way home.

Despite what a lot of people liked to think, you were actually gentle. But only sometimes. 

There were some perks to living alone, hundreds of miles away from your family. One of them was that you could bring home whatever animal you wanted, and no one could stop you.

On your way home from school, you decided that you'd keep the cat, whom you named Kong-ee (since its nose looked like a bean). How could you not? It was so tiny, and soft, and cute. Every time you rubbed its cheek, it let out a small meow. When you kissed it on the head, it started meowing profusely. It was so adorable!

If anyone at school saw you right now, they'd think they were dreaming.

You, that one mean and rough girl, playing with a little cat? You, not screaming and fighting every three seconds? Impossible!

You cracked a grin to yourself as you thought about the events that transpired earlier. Jiho Jang was picking on some underclassman, so you gave him a little nudge. When that didn't work, you punched him square in the nose. As you unlocked the door to your apartment, you thought back to how the school administrators reacted. For some reason, it felt like they favored Jiho over you, seeming to take his side before you even explained yourself.

You placed the cat down on your bed. 

"Stay here, okay, kitty?" you gently pet Kong-ee. The cat stared at you with its large, feline eyes, and you laughed, kissing its cheek. The high-pitched meow it let out was cute, so you booped its nose again. "I'm gonna go run you a bath, 'kay?"

As you set your things down to run the bath, you suddenly remembered your Class President, Jungwon Yang.

It seemed like among everyone involved in the situation, he was the only one that was fair. You appreciated him reiterating that fact that you were, in fact, acting in defense of another student, and you could tell that he was trying to give you a gentler punishment. However, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he disliked you. He had this weird attitude, one where he seemed to think of himself as superior to you. You could tell that he didn’t like you, probably because of your ‘troublemaker’ reputation.

Come to think of it, have you ever spoken to him? Sure, you went to the same elementary and middle school as him, but you swore that you've never really spoken to him. You still had no idea what happened to him earlier. He just randomly disappeared from the face of the earth. You still had his clothes, which you threw into the washing machine. 

You didn't think of him any more for the rest of the night.

"Kong-ee," you cooed as you poured warm water over the cat's head. For a cat, Kong-ee was very calm in water. You muttered to yourself, "So cute,"

After drying Kong-ee, you went to eat dinner, study, and at last, go to bed. 

You didn't have a bed for Kong-ee, and you didn't move a lot when you slept, so you just let the little cat lay on your chest. The warmth of the cat was like an extra blanket anyway.

Your eyes felt heavy, so you were fast asleep just minutes after your head hit the pillow.

Jungwon thought he was a pretty smart guy.

But right now, he was absolutely stupid.

He completely didn't take into account the fact that during winter, nighttime came much quicker. He was so distracted by school duties that he totally forgot his curse.

That's right. Curse.

About a week ago, Jungwon was hit with some curse, where every day, the moment that the sun began to set, he would transform into a cat. He'd only turn back to human when the sun rose the next morning. These past few days, Jungwon had been leveeing excuse after excuse about why he couldn't attend a certain event, or why his homework was done so quickly.

Yesterday, even when he should have been running home because he was literally about to transform into a cat, he decided to go talk to you instead. 

And now there he was, still in his cat form, laying on you, that one girl from class that couldn’t follow a rule to save her life.

As a cat last night, he decided that he’d escape out your window the moment you fell asleep. However, your apartment was many stories high, and he couldn’t fight off his feline instinct to snuggle up into something warm. So there he was, laying next to your sleeping face.

In his cat form, Jungwon could see your alarm clock. These days, sunrise was around 7AM, and it was 6:57. Just a few more minutes, and he should transform back into human. Hopefully, he won't wake you up.

Jungwon's plan was the moment that he transformed back into his human form, he would take his clothes (the one that you picked up and washed yesterday), and leave. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. Hopefully, you’d forget all about this, and his life would resume.

Meanwhile, Jungwon observed your sleeping face. It was weird. You usually had a scowl on your face, but your sleeping face was completely peaceful. He’d never seen you so… calm. In fact, last night was probably the most normal he’d ever seen you. Jungwon always kind of expected you to be rough with everything, but the way you treated him as a cat was almost… kind of nice? 

With his paw, Jungwon gently touched your face, a small meow escaping his mouth. Your lunch detention started today, so he’d have to spend his next few lunches stuck in a room with you. He dreaded it. He had other things he wanted to do, even though he was the one to suggest that he administrated–

Poof!

With a puff of smoke, Jungwon transformed back into his human form. Except, he was now naked, sprawled on top of you. 

Quickly, though with wobbly feet, he stumbled over to the clean folded stack of his clothes. 

Just as he was finished putting on his pants, reaching for his shirt, Jungwon heard a shrill scream.

He whipped his head around to see you, staring at him horrified.

Oh.

Shit.

The last thing you expected was to wake up to a shirtless Jungwon Yang in your room. 

"What the fuck are you—" you, still groggy, pulled your comforter over your shoulders, suddenly feeling exposed— "Jungwon, what the fuck? What are you doing here?!"

The boy only stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers, jaw dropped. It was only when you began throwing pillows and plushies at him that he began to get defensive.

"W-Wait, [Name]!" he staggered over to you, amidst the slew of pillows being projected at him. "[Name], let me explai— Ow!"

"Get out, Jungwon!" you shouted, hurling nearly every object on your bed at him. Simply for the reason that your Class President was literally half naked in your room, your face felt warm. With anger. "Get out, get out, get out— Oof!"

Behold, Jungwon tripped over one of the pillows as he floundered over to you, leading him to fall right on top of you on your bed.

A moment of thick silence engulfed your bedroom as the two of you stared at each other. Jungwon's cheeks flared. It was absolutely over for him now. 

With a rough, but flighty, hand, you pushed his chest off of you with a scowl. 

"Get off," you grumbled, shoving him again.

"Right..." Jungwon quickly pulled away from you. He sat at the edge of your bed, his head hanging low. His entire neck and face were red with embarrassment and shame. You probably thought he was a creep, a pervert, a weirdo! Would you tell people at school? He could already hear the rumors: “Class President Jungwon Yang is a freak!” 

"Well, aren't you going to explain yourself?" you nudged him harshly with your foot. You still covered yourself with your blanket, looking at him with the most hostility that he'd ever seen from you.

"Wait a minute," you muttered to yourself. You shifted around your bed, feeling around your comforter. "Where's Kong-ee?"

Jungwon let out a nervous laugh. 

"About that...."

(Long story short, you grabbed Jungwon by his shoulders, and said, "You're lucky that you were cute as a cat, because I was considering kicking your ass.")

Honestly, you thought Jungwon was a little weird, if not snobby. If you were asked how you felt about him a few hours ago, you would have said that he was a little self-important. But after the fiasco this morning, the only word you had to properly describe him was strange.

You supposed that you couldn't blame him. He didn't choose to be cursed into a cat, and he most definitely didn't choose for you to take him home. It was just a little embarrassing that the entire time, the cute cat that you were excited to take care of was just your Class President that probably hated you. It made you squirm a little bit.

After Jungwon gave you a (very thorough and evidence-based) explanation, you kicked him out and got ready for school as you always did.

When you got to school, you couldn't bring yourself to meet Jungwon's gaze, and luckily, it seemed like he couldn't either. You weren't shy, and you weren't the type to get actually flustered, but you felt a twinge of humiliation. 

Why, of all people, did it have to be the guy that you were spending your lunch detention with?

In fact, as you sat in lunch detention, there was a thick tension in the air. It was just you and Jungwon in an empty classroom, completely silent save for the sound of chattering and people talking from the other rooms down the hall. 

You were supposed to be doing homework, or something, but you preferred staring out the window. Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungwon sitting at the teacher desk, writing something out.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored. Normally, you were perfectly fine with getting lost in that head of yours, but for some reason, today all your thoughts were just... stale.

"Yah," you suddenly said, directed at Jungwon. The boy's head immediately shot up. "What are you doing right now?"

"Writing..." he answered curtly. His expression was awkward, very different from his usual composed face, the one that he used when he ordered people around. You tried not to show your discomfort on your face, but Jungwon was just an open book. 

"I'm bored."

He blinked at you owlishly, before narrowing his eyes. "Well, do you want a book?"

You groaned, leaning back against your chair and throwing your head back. If this was how lunch detention was going to be for the rest of the week, you'd die.

Jungwon watched you silently. He let out a sigh, before setting his pen down. He picked up the papers that he was just writing on, holding it up to his face so that he could read it. 

"Jungwoo and Sullyoon." You shot him a questioning look, and he continued. "Liz and Minji."

"What the hell are you saying?" you questioned.

Jungwon held up the papers; on them were elaborate charts with many columns. It was a list of some sort.

"It's the beginning of the month," Jungwon began. "I have to make a schedule for who's on cleaning duty."

You cocked a brow at him, making him continue.

"I might be the president, but I don't know a lot of our classmates well," the boy's feline-like eyes fluttered over to you. "I'm having trouble making the pairs. I don't know who gets along with who."

He stared at you for a few pulses, almost like he was asking you to help him. You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. You pulled a chair over to where Jungwon was sitting, plopping down. This was better than doing homework.

"All right then," you snatched the paper. You scanned the list, your nose crinkling at some of Jungwon's choices. "Why would you put Bae with Aran?"

Jungwon’s brows crashed together, just by the way you seemed so indignant about his choices. 

"I don't know," Jungwon shrugged, unable to hide the slight offense on his face. "I thought they were friends."

"Nah," you sucked in a sharp, exasperated breath. "Bae was trying to get with Aran's boyfriend, so Bae and her friends jumped her."

The way it came out so casually from your lips was almost laughable.

"Ouch."

"And why would you put Jihan and Rei together?"

"Why, are they not friends?"

"No, because Rei is friends with Liz, and Jihan hates Liz."

"Well, what about Rei and Hikaru?"

You groaned, punching Jungwon in the arm. "I'm actually gonna kick your ass."

Out of nowhere, completely out of character, Jungwon couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. There was something so laughable about you, of all people, knowing the business of your classmates, and not him, the literal president. It was almost ironic, the way you seemed to be so passionate about the ongoings of the classroom. He immediately clamped his hand over his mouth the moment you shot him a glare, but he was unable to swallow another laugh. 

"Yah, laugh again and I'll actually do it."

Jungwon let out another laugh. You grabbed his forearm, softly punching his shoulder again. The way your lips jutted out, the gloss on them shining under the light, was too much for Jungwon to handle. For someone so tough and violent, you looked so petulant, almost like a child, when you were angry. Your brows furrowing like caterpillars and the way your lips parted in offense was his favorite part.

You stood up abruptly, grabbing Jungwon's collar and pulling him up with you. Your lips pulled together in what could only be called a frown.

"You're so annoying," you grumbled, tightening your grip around his collar. "Kill yourself."

Jungwon's lips pulled upward to reveal his sharp canine teeth. 

"Sorry," he said with a smile. It was weird, the way that it was a genuine smile, as opposed to the fake one that he found himself giving out.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time that day, but you loosened your hold on his collar. When he let out another small laugh again, you raised your fist at him. It was supposed to be purely threatening, you weren't actually going to punch him. And Jungwon could tell, just by the look on your face.

But that was when the worst possible person walked into the detention room: the class advisor.

"[Name] [Last Name], are you trying to assault the Class President?!"

And that's how you got after school detention, too. Administrated by the one and only Class President himself.

"Look, [Name], I'm sorry—"

"It's whatever."

And it really was whatever.

No matter how many times Jungwon explained with the advisor and administrators, they all wouldn’t believe them. He clarified seemingly hundreds of times that you, in fact, were not trying to beat him up. Still, they wouldn’t listen. Because he was the president, they simply assumed that Jungwon was defending you to not cause trouble.

You appreciated his efforts, you really did. The way his face scrunched with frustration as he let out a deep, exasperated sigh was enough for you.

“It isn’t whatever,” Jungwon ran a hand through his dark locks, huffing. “It’s unfair.”

Now the two of you were back in that detention room. You were sitting down, bored, while Jungwon paced around. He couldn’t say that he liked you, but he couldn’t stand for something so utterly ridiculous.

"It's not a big deal," you seemed more unbothered than Jungwon was. When he looked at you with a pinched expression, you sighed. "I really mean it, it's not a big deal."

Jungwon chewed on his bottom lip pensively. "But they're not being fair."

You shrugged. "This isn't the first time that it's happened, you know."

When the boy frowned, you continued. "Sometimes, the administrative system is kinda fucked. It's just something we hafta accept."

Jungwon's nose scrunched, before he made his way over to where you were sitting. He stood at the edge of your desk before you, his fingers tapping anxiously. He studied your face: your expression was painted with sincere and utter indifference. You didn't care. But he did.

"I'm serious," you noticed the uneasiness on his face. "Just let it go, Jungwon."

"It's just..." he breathed, "I'm the President, aren't I supposed to be the one with a louder voice? Why won't they listen to me?"

You gazed at his face.

Jungwon Yang, the Class President. He’d always seemed snobby, but he was surprisingly earnest. There was an essence of naivete in him, a sort of innocence and optimism that you couldn't shake off. Jungwon was almost intense with the amount of conviction he had. 

"Well," you finally said. Under the desk, you tapped your shoe against his. "We can't do anything about it now."

You brusquely got up, moving toward the teacher desk.

"B-But—"

You plopped down on the teacher chair, kicking back. "Are you going to let me help you with your presidential duties or what? I’m bored."

You looked at him, dead serious. You gestured to the papers sprawled across the desk. 'Well, aren't you going to join me?'your expression read.

Jungwon finally exhaled.

He couldn't argue with you.

Because like him, your conviction was just as strong. You were realistic, too realistic that it was almost painful. But the intensity in your judgment was not to be challenged.

"Fine."

You never expected Jungwon's presidential duties to be so tedious. But what was surprisingly unsurprising was Jungwon's crazy amount of effort. Of course he put every ounce of his energy into perfecting the class calendar or the class seating arrangements. Although you did help him, there were a few moments of complete silence, as Jungwon sat in deep thought trying to figure out how to approach a certain issue. His zeal was almost freakish.

You let out a yawn. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Time?" Jungwon perked up, glancing out the window. Shit. It should be sunset soon. Why does he keep losing track of the time? He began shuffling his papers together, shoving them into his school bag. "Shiiiit, I have to go now."

"Man, I feel like I've never heard you swear—" Realization hit you. "Oh, right."

You helped him put his things away, but it was too late. Within seconds, a puff of smoke already engulfed the room, leaving a pile of clothes, and a tiny black cat.

You groaned. Not again.

"You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You decided that you'd take Jungwon home with you once again. As you laid on your back in your bed, you held his cat form up carefully, yet your words were harsh.

"God, you're so stupid, Jungwon," you scolded him. "Does this happen a lot? Where you don't keep track of time and just transform out of nowhere?"

Jungwon let out a small meow, hanging his furry head in shame. 

"Ughhh," you lamented. You gave the top of his head a small tap, equivalent to you hitting the back of his head if he was a human. "Do your parents know?"

Jungwon responded back with a bunch of meows, like he was trying to talk to you. 

"Whatever," you tapped his nose with your knuckle. Normally, you’d probably recoil at the thought of being this close to your Class President, but because he was a cat, you couldn’t help the desire to smother him with love. You held Jungwon's face close to yours. You rubbed your nose against his, cooing at the small meows he let out. You chuckled. "You're so much cuter as a cat, you know that right?"

Jungwon meowed, his short paws extending out to touch your face. You grinned, leaning into his touch. "You're so annoying at school. So annoying that I thought about punching you once. But I like you more as a cat."

Meeooowww!

"Have you eaten yet?" you brushed his fur back, rubbing the spot behind his ears, earning a purrrr. Jungwon shook his head. Then, you scratched his chin. "Can you even eat human food?" Jungwon shook his head again.

"Fine," you muttered, more to yourself. "I'll go buy you cat food."

The walk to the convenience store was quiet, save for your coos at Jungwon. On Jungwon's end, he was ecstatic. Each time you kissed his head or babbled back in response to his little meows, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. It was weird, so weird, to see you be so… gentle, and loving, and caring. It was like a flip switched the moment you stepped out of school. Weren’t you supposed to be a delinquent? Why were you so tender? He hated it, he hated it so much. But now you were peppering his face with kisses, and Jungwon couldn’t resist leaning into your warm touch.

"Which one do you want, Jungwon?" You took him through the aisles, letting his small, black paws dictate what you'd buy. 

"Are you serious? Salmon Gravy Poultry shreds?"

Jungwon meowed profusely, his paws flailing around almost offended. He couldn't control his feline cravings in his cat form! What did you expect him to choose, a Triple Dipple Mcdouble Wouble Hamburger?

You threw your head back, laughing at his cute frustration. You pinched Jungwon's nose, before going to the cash register.

That night, you sat with Jungwon wrapped in a blanket on your lap.

"You can still help me with my homework, right?" you said, petting Jungwon. 

Meoooowww! was his response (as always), but the way his feline eyes squeezes into thin crescents, his mouth turning upwards, told you his answer was a very enthusiastic "Yes!"

You and Jungwon came up with a system.

One meow was yes, two meows were no.

It was safe to say that Jungwon let out many double meows in succession.

"Maybe I was wrong," you grasped his little paws like they were his hands. "You're still annoying as a cat."

Meow!

You giggled, before turning off your lights. 

You gave Jungwon his own bed— a stack of pillows and blankets. You didn't want another incident, did you?

Oh. My. God.

It was past 7AM. The sun was up in the sky shining its yellow face so obnoxiously through the blinds.

However.

Jungwon was still a cat.

For the past week or so, he turned back into his human form the second the sun peeked through the clouds. But why not today? He had to figure this out before you woke up, or you might freak out, and that would make him freak out—

"Oh my god, Jungwon, why are you still a cat?!"

Long story short, you took him to school with you.

If Jungwon was a human, he would have refused profusely. Curse him and his tiny body, he had no way of refusing you.

And that's how Jungwon found himself stuffed in your pocket.

"Stop fussing!" you gently smacked the back of his head. "You're gonna get us caught!"

Meeowww! was all he could say. It was strange seeing the school through such a tiny lens. It didn't help that he felt like he was on a goddamn rollercoaster because for some reason, you decided to walk with a pep in your step today. 

"Where's Jungwon? He's normally not late like this," Wonyoung Jang, the class's secretary asked just as you walked in. After a round of "I don't know's" it seemed like everyone suddenly remembered what (allegedly) happened yesterday: you assaulted him.

"Hey, [Name], did you do something to him?" someone asked. You shot them a questioning look. You ignored them, taking your seat in the back, being careful to not crush Jungwon. 

"Yah, [Name]," one of the boys in your class (was his name Haruto, or something?) came up to your desk, slamming his hands down on your desk. "What did you do to Jungwon?"

You looked around the classroom— they had to be playing with you, right? Such a ridiculous accusation based on ridiculous evidence from the most ridiculous people.

"Uh. I didn't do anything...?" you answered sincerely, confusion strewn across your face.

"Hey, let's not lie, [Name]," Jinni, the class treasurer, smiled at you. "Just tell us the truth. What happened to Jungwon?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. 

"You were the last person to see him yesterday," one of your classmates pointed out. "Something's fishy."

"Well, I don't know what you guys want me to say," you scowled. "I'm sorry, I guess? It's not really my business what goes on with him."

Before another person could join in, and most definitely escalate the situation, the bell rang, starting class.

Meanwhile, Jungwon internally frowned. Why was everyone so quick to accuse you? Sure, you got into scuffles, but they were being baseless with their accusations. All you did was walk in, and you were bombarded with questions. While class went on, he let out a soft meow, using his paw to touch your hand.

"Jungwon, what do you want?" you whisper-yelled at him.

Jungwon couldn't imagine what it would be like to have everyone see you with suspicion. When the teachers didn't believe him earlier, it was frustrating. He never considered how you felt. Your quick resignation to the flawed administrative system was upsetting.

Almost like he was trying to comfort you, another small meow came from him, his paw petting your hand.

You smiled gently, bonking him softly on the head, before turning back to the board.

As the day went by, Jungwon caught a real glimpse of what it was like to live like you.

From the pocket of your sweater, he could see the nasty glares that people sent you, simply for being in the same room as them. The way that people would scurry away from you, cower under your gaze like you were some kind of monster. Jungwon didn't know how anyone could endure that for much of their high school career. The more he watched you from your pocket, the more he could see your hard exterior cracking. You were genuine in that you didn't like people that much, but he could tell by the way that your lips twitched slightly, eyebrows knitting together for a split second as you wistfully watched groups of friends giggle together. 

As lunchtime started, you slowly made your way to the detention room. That entire hall was mostly empty, probably because no one wanted to be near where you'd be. 

You reached inside your pocket, your knuckle brushing against Jungwon's ears.

"Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish you were human right now," you said quietly to him. Jungwon meowed, rubbing his cheek against your finger. "I’m gonna be so bored."

As you cracked the detention room door open, you were met with a group of boys.

Of course you knew them. Everyone liked to lump you in with them, as "bangers," but anyone that understood who they were knew that you were far from their friend.

While you just caused trouble occasionally, they were actual delinquents.

"Hey there, [Name]," one of them grinned at you. You stopped at the doorway, narrowing your eyes at them. They never talked to you unless they wanted trouble.

"What do you want, Gyuvin?" you huffed. Jungwon from your pocket peeked his head out.

"We don't want anything from you, [Name]," another of them, Ricky Shen, took a step forward toward you. The rest of the boys followed suit, pulling you into the classroom and surrounding you.

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. The way they were circling you certainly triggered your panic mode, but you swallowed it down, choosing to keep a hardened gaze instead. 

"Right," you nodded slowly. 

The next thing you knew, you were pushed to the ground with a yelp and thump! The way that the rest of them peered down at you condescendingly. You heard a small meow come from your pocket, so your hand shot to your pocket, your palm protectively cradling Jungwon.

"We're just bored, really," Gyuvin smiled, leaning down toward you. "Just wanted to see if this kitty bit back."

Silence enveloped the room as you glared up at them. You had to think fast. You honestly did not have the energy to put up a good fight right now, and you didn't want to. How could you evade this?

Your eyes shot around the room for some sort of escape. Unfortunately, there was only one: the door, and it was blocked by a few of the boys.

"Oh? What's that in your pocket?" It seemed like they noticed your hand clutching your pocket so firmly.

They yanked you up roughly by the arm, shoving their grubby hands into your pocket while others held your arms back.

"Hey!" you yelped, struggling against their grip. They're gonna find Jungwon!

Your worst fear came true. Gyuvin pulled out a thrashing Jungwon from your pocket. Even in his feline form, you could see the panic in his eyes. You tried to escape their grip, pulling away as hard as you could, but they overpowered you.

"What's this?" Gyuvin asked, a nasty grin on his face as he observed Jungwon.

"Give him back," you grumbled behind gritted teeth. You tried to pull away again, but it was no use. Gyuvin cocked a brow at you, before throwing Jungwon on the floor. Jungwon let out a small meow of pain, but as the boys approached him, he hissed loudly, his pupils dilated and his black fur standing up on his back. 

Ricky glanced at you, making sure that you were watching, when he landed a kick at Jungwon. 

"Jungwon!" you shouted, straining against the boys that held you back. 

"Fuck," you muttered to yourself. You didn't want to fight. Jesus Christ, the last thing you wanted to do right now was fight. But you could not stand for this. 

"Jungwon?" A smile was growing on Ricky's features. "Y'know, [Name], I thought that you murdered Mr. Class President or something. But it looks like you're obsessed with him more than anything."

Your hands balled into fists, biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood.

Assholes. That's what they all were.

It was Ricky's turn to land a kick on Jungwon.

That's when you had enough.

With all the force you could muster in your body, you stepped on the guys who held your foot. You didn't know how hard it was, but it was hard enough for them to loosen their grips on you, letting out cries. Your body was on overdrive now. The only thing you focused on was getting the fuck out of there.

"Yah, get her!"

You dashed to Jungwon, snatching him up and jamming him into your pocket. You flung the door open, but Ricky and Gyuvin grabbed both of your hands before you could make a run for it. Ricky pulled you in by the waist, so that you were flush against his chest, while Gyuvin pressed against you from the front.

"Let go of me," you protested. 

"Nuh-uh," Ricky whispered in your ear. 

"Why're you so resistant to us, [Name]?" Gyuvin rasped. "We just wanna be your friend."

Meanwhile, Jungwon, although injured, creeped out from your pocket. With them so close to you, it would be awfully easy for Jungwon to land a few claws on them. It wouldn't hurt to give them a few scratches, right?

With a loud hiss, Jungwon jumped out from your pocket, landing on Ricky's chest. With all the might that his small body could gather, Jungwon scratched the boy's chest with high-pitched shrieks. Almost immediately, Ricky stumbled backward, letting go of you. You took that opportunity to land the hardest kick you could to Gyuvin's crotch. Then, you plucked Jungwon up, and made a run for it.

You ran until you reached the girl's bathroom of the south building, far enough from Ricky and Gyuvin and their little henchmen. You took in shallow breaths, staggering into the bathroom. You held onto Jungwon tightly.

Finally, you dropped down to your knees, slumping against the wall. With a hiss, you observed the bruises on your wrists, where the boys had held you.

You took off your sweater, gently placing Jungwon on it.

He nuzzled his face against your leg, purring when you pet his head.

"Hey, Jungwon," your voice was quiet, the quietest that he'd ever heard. "You okay?"

Meow!

Your nimble fingers ran against his fur, and when you ended up on his side, Jungwon hissed. Upon closer inspection, that part of his abdomen was bruised from the earlier assault.

"I'm sorry, baby," you unconsciously used that name, your heart hurting for him. It must be horrible being so small and helpless. You tenderly caressed his face, with him leaning into your touch. "Does it hurt?"

Jungwon nodded. Although all the energy was sucked out of you from that scuffle alone, you jumped to your feet.

"The nurse's office is just down the hall," you said to him. "I'll go get some things, okay?"

Jungwon meowed to you as you left.

He'd never actually seen you fight anyone.

Were you harassed like this often? Was that why you were reported to be fighting people, when you were really just defending yourself? Why did people want to bother you so badly?

The pain in Jungwon's side was bearable, but the way you were so quick to get help was so admirable. 

In fact, all this time that he spent with you, you never looked to fight people. Instead, you were actually so eager to be helpful. How did you become known as the class's troublemaker when you actively avoided trouble? All you’ve been so far was kind to him.

Was he wrong about you?

Just as Jungwon was about to go on pondering...

Poof!

Jungwon coughed, and suddenly, he was human again.

But, like always, naked.

He scurried into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door.

"Jungwon?" you wandered back into the bathroom, unable to spot a little black cat. "Jungwon, where'd you go?"

When a deeper, masculine voice responded, you almost jumped out of your skin. "I'm... in the stalls."

"You turned back?!"

Jungwon felt his cheeks warm up. How was he going to explain this to you?

"Why are you in the stalls?"

Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm... uh.. naked right now."

.

.

.

"Oh."

"C-Can you please go get me clothes?"

When you came back with a set of male school uniform (that you stole from some kid's locker), you threw it over the stall door, a little flustered.

Jungwon finally came out of the stalls, an awkward expression on his face.

"Did the clothes fit right?" you asked. Granted, you thought you stole from the underclassmen, so the clothes you got him might be too small. "Are they too small?"

"No," Jungwon quickly answered. "They... They fit just fine."

He stared at you. "Thanks, by the way."

You blinked at him. "For what?"

"For everything you did for me back there," Jungwon took a deep breath. He still couldn't wrap his head around how your status as the class delinquent came to be. "You were really cool."

"Cool?" You raised a brow at him, but you couldn't hide the curve in your lips. "I thought it was pretty cool how you scratched Ricky."

Jungwon snorted. "That's nothing compared to the last-minute kick to Gyuvin's crotch."

You laughed, but clamped your hand over your mouth. 

"Sorry," you murmured.

"I mean it," Jungwon was looking at you with wide eyes. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "It was, like, straight out of a comic book."

"Right," you nodded slowly, the corners of your lips quirking up. You perched down next to him, pulling the first-aid kit you nicked from the nurse's office. You didn't know how Jungwon's cat-human curse translated injuries. That is, you didn't know if he'd have the same injuries he sustained as a cat in his human form. "D'you mind lifting up your shirt for me?"

Lift... up... his... shirt... for... you?

Jungwon choked on his spit, coughs spouting from his throat. As he coughed up a storm, a sharp pain in his abdomen pierced through him. He clutched his side, letting out a soft groan of pain.

"Shit," your fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, "You're bruised there, aren't you?"

You began to flip up his shirt to get a better look of his wound, but Jungwon quickly stopped you.

"W-Wait!" his cheeks flared. You gave him a weird look. "How am I going to get married if you see me shirtless?!"

.

.

.

For the Class President, Jungwon Yang was a little dumb.

You gave his head a soft smack.

"You dumbass," you chided him. "I've already seen you shirtless."

Jungwon's eyes widened into saucers. You sighed, rubbing your temples.

"Remember when I woke up to you half naked the other day?"

Oh. Right.

"And you're not going to be tainted if I see you shirtless. Stop being a baby and just let me see your injury, you loser!" With flighty eyes and red ears, Jungwon let you pull up his shirt, your fingers gently brushing against the brownish-purple bruise beginning to form on his side. He let out another hiss of pain when you pressed on it. "Does that hurt?"

"Y-Yeah."

Carefully, with the roll of bandages, you wrapped his torso. Although it was completely normal to you, Jungwon felt weird as your arms circled his waist. He could almost feel your breath on his neck. He'd been close to you like this as a cat, but it just felt different when he was a human.

You then gave him an ice pack, instructing him to hold it against his side.

"You're good at this," he complimented. You were very knowledgeable on how to treat wounds. 

"Well, I get into a lot of fights, y'know?" You flashed him a toothy grin before treating your own bruises.

Jungwon's heart dropped to his stomach. That was... really sad.

"Wait!" he blurted, reaching out to clutch your arm as you wrapped your wrists. "Let me help you with that."

"Um, okay."

Jungwon wasn't nearly as experienced as you, and his bandaging job was very clumsy. But you appreciated the effort.

When you were done, the two of you sat in a short silence.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked you.

You thought for a few moments. "I think I'm gonna jump the fence and leave."

"Huh? Why?"

You shrugged. "I refuse to go back there after what happened. Plus, lunch already ended, and I don't feel like serving after school detention today."

You'd already made up your mind, beginning to collect your things.

Jungwon blinked.

For the first time ever, he, too, didn't want to go back. Jungwon had never skipped a class in his life, let alone jumped the fence. 

"Why are you staring at me like that?" you nudged him with your foot. He looked up at you; you were ready to leave.

Jungwon breathed. This might be one of the hardest decisions of his life.

"Can I come with you?"

"If you're going to be worried, you should probably go back."

Jungwon swallowed down hard. He'd never skipped class before, and even if he really wanted to, he couldn't ignore the anxiety bubbling inside him.

"I'm not worried,” he clenched his fists. 

"Right."

After jumping the fence, you and Jungwon were free.

"Where are we going now?"

"Home."

Jungwon felt like he'd come home with you so much the past few days, to the point that he nearly memorized the way there.

Except, as he entered the doorway, your entire apartment looked different.

"Why are you so surprised?" you switched on the lights. "You've been here many times already."

"I know, but," Jungwon scanned your kitchen and living room. "Nearly every time I've been here, I was an 8-inch tall cat."

You went into your bathroom silently, leaving Jungwon to walk about your apartment. He'd never really got a good look at it. He observed the picture collage on your fridge, of you and your parents and friends, smiling so brightly. The peach soda - scented candle on your counter seemed so out of character for you, but for some reason, it made so much sense. From the arrangement of the throw pillows on your couch, to the fuzzy rug, to the pile of mail sprawled on the coffee table, your apartment felt so you.

When you emerged from your bathroom, Jungwon did a once-over. He'd seen you in your pajamas before, but for some reason, when he saw you now in your cute polka-dotted fluffy pajamas, you almost looked... cute. Someone as brooding as you in such cutesy pajamas gave him whiplash.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing..." but Jungwon couldn't hide the way his lips curved upwards.

You yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap."

"Okay."

.

.

.

"Can I join you?"

Jungwon had expected you to throw him a pillow and blanket on the floor, similar to what you did with him as a cat. But you didn't.

You patted the spot next to you on your bed, looking at him expectantly.

And that's how Jungwon found himself laying next to you like a sardine.

He felt like a child the way his hands felt clammy, feeling a wave of anxiety with each movement you had. In his defense, he'd never slept in the same bed with a girl. In fact, he couldn't remember a time where he was as close to a girl as he was right now.

"If you're uncomfortable, you can-"

"No, I'm okay!"

He felt your eyes on him for a few moments, before you sighed. You jammed a pillow between the two of you, creating a border of some sort.

"Is that better?"

Jungwon didn't know why, but he felt a twinge of disappointment.

"... Yeah."

The next few minutes were full of silence. Jungwon laid still like a statue. From the corner of his eye, he could see you snuggling up with a plushie, almost kind of like how you snuggled up with him when he was a cat.

An unconscious frown spread itself on his cheeks. 

He.... also wanted to be snuggled like that. Was it weird that he craved that closeness to you? He reasoned to himself that he was just used to it, since he’d spent the majority of his time with you as a cat. 

In a moment of pure boldness, Jungwon snatched the pillow between you and him away, throwing it on the floor.

You sent him a confused look. "Hey there."

Jungwon's eyes were shaky, yet they trained on the plushie you had in your arms. Then he looked at your face, then back at the plushie, then back at your face.

"You need something, Jungwon?" you asked, almost concerned.

"I— Uhm," his eyes kept flickering from your face to the plushie. At a certain point, he was glued to the plushie, unable to hide the pout formed on his lips.

For someone who was good at pretending to smile, he wore his feelings on his face so clearly, you rolled your eyes.

"You're so annoying," you muttered under your breath. You chucked the plushie in your arms to the side. You then threw your arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Jungwon let out a surprised yelp, but you ignored him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, careful not to touch his bruised abdomen. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses. "Is this better?"

Jungwon audibly gulped, but he eased into the feeling of your arms around him. "Y-Yeah..."

You were so close! He could smell the faint scent of your perfume, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry. You snuggled up against him, the sound of your soft breaths, which were slowing down into a steady rhythm, filling his ears. 

Jungwon took a deep breath, and melted into the warmth that was your arms. 

He wouldn’t mind doing this many more times, he thought. Would he?

And soon, he drifted off into dreamland, too.

Your eyes fluttered open a few hours later. Your bed was usually warm, but this time, it was very warm. So warm that you wanted to melt into it, completely and utterly disarmed by the comfort that you felt.

What time is it? was the first thing you thought.

The second thing you realized was that you could hear a heartbeat in your ears. Not your heartbeat, but the heartbeat of someone else. In fact, you were laying on someone's chest. 

Jungwon's chest.

There the two of you were, sprawled out on your bed. Jungwon gently held your head against his chest, his other arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, while your arms wrapped around his torso. Your legs were tangled. You didn't remember falling asleep like this, but it wasn't like you minded the position. You simply sunk back into him, basking in the warmth.

But Jungwon did.

As his eyes shot open, he immediately noticed the current position you and him were in. You felt him tense under you, his arms beginning to curl back into himself. But the warmth that he provided as your personal human heater was just too good, so you grabbed his arms, putting them back into the position they were holding you in.

"It's cold, Jungwon," you muttered, snuggling up against him.

“[N-Name],” Jungwon’s voice came out soft. He’d just woken up mere minutes ago, yet he was wide awake. There was a weird pounding in his chest that he couldn’t explain, one that thrummed so loud that he could hear it in his ears. Your touch felt like burns on his skin, an unforgiving scalding boil, hot to the touch. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Why was he suddenly feeling this way? Was he ill? Was he going to transform into a cat?

“[Name],” Jungwon whispered again, a little louder. His words got caught in his throat the moment he said it, wanting to swallow it the moment they left his lips. He didn’t know what he would say, but he just said your name to hear it on his tongue. 

“What?” you groaned, eyes gently shut but words lazily spoken.

Jungwon peered down at you. His ears felt like they were going to melt off his head. His skin seared with that scorching type of sting, the one that ached. 

“Nothing,” he murmured, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath you took. Soon, your breathing stilled, and Jungwon was sure that you’d fallen asleep completely.

He observed 

It was weird. He'd seen you up close like this before as a cat, but now that he was human-sized, it somehow felt so much more... intimate. Jungwon found himself digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched you sleep. He couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

Plunk!

Hey, what was that sound?

Plunk!

Jungwon's head shot to your bedroom window. Then, he heard yelling outside.

As he got up to check out the commotion, you tugged on him.

"I already told you..." you murmured dreamily. "It's cold."

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. "But, what's going on outside-"

"Ricky and Gyuvin," you answered, this time tightening your hold on the boy. "They like to... torment me... sometimes."

Just sometimes? Jungwon thought. Really, how often were you getting harassed like this?

Before Jungwon could answer, you were fast asleep again. From then on, Jungwon refused to move, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber.

But, there was one thing that he took heavy note of.

First, it was 7PM. It was completely dark outside by now, the blue-gray shrouded with clouds, only the yellow moon illuminating the sky.

And second, that he was still human.

Ever since that day, Jungwon hadn't turned into a cat even once.

However, while one phenomenon disappeared, another one emerged.

Jungwon's insanity.

Jungwon considered himself one of the, if not the most, sane person in every classroom. But right now, insanity was spiraling onto him like no other.

Weeks passed, and Jungwon couldn't shake off that tender, yet explosive, feeling he got when he was close to you.

After your week of detention was lifted, you and him slowly saw each other less and less. He couldn't help but feel disappointment when he locked up the detention room one last time, saying his goodbye to you.

You two were still in the same class, still saw each other everyday, but he didn't get to speak with you. 

And that was when Jungwon resorted to observing you.

He was naturally observant, but all this time, Jungwon had been observing the bigger picture. 

It started off with watching the doorway in the morning, praying that every person that passed was you. Then, Jungwon found himself watching you every passing period. Who did you talk to? Who tried to talk to you? What expression did you wear on your face?

Then, Jungwon took to roaming the school perimeter, under the excuse that he was just "patrolling the school for any trouble," when really, he was hoping that he'd run into you. This extended to after school. On the occasions that he actually ran into you, you'd shoot him a sly grin, making cat hands or ears over your head. He knew that you were doing that to tease him about his cat days, but his cheeks felt warm for another reason.

Have you always been that pretty? Of course, you'd always been cute, but did you always glow like that? Was Jungwon always into girls that looked like they could kick his ass? Why did the intimidating look on your face make his heart race?

Jungwon was in denial for a while, until he was at a Class Council meeting, when one of the members asked him casually, "Hey, what actually happened between you and [Name]?"

In retrospect, they were clearly referring to that one time you "assaulted" him. That incident remained shrouded in mystery for a while, as Jungwon refused to talk about it.

However, Jungwon jerked up at that question, his face painted with a look that could only be described as “constipated” at the sound of your name. Did someone find out about his cat transformation curse, and how you took care of him in that state? No, that would be too specific.

"Jungwon?"

"Y-Yes!"

Wonyoung and Jini shared a look, before a grin spread on their faces. 

"You make it seem like you guys were kissing, or something. We’re just curious about what actually happened."

A weird noise came out of Jungwon's throat, his eyes wide like saucers.

Kiss...ing?

"Oh my god, don't tell me you actually kissed [Name]--"

"I didn't!"

And he was telling the truth. But the bright, red color on his face betrayed him. The Council teased him all about it, even going so far as patting him on the back for "scoring a baddie" (Wonyoung's words, not his). He denied it, he denied it with his full chest. He held his head high, nose pointed to the sky, denying it like his life depended on it. 

But Jungwon couldn't help the weird feeling of pride that swelled in his chest. He liked the thought of kissing you, and in a weird, twisted way, he liked the way that people thought that you and him were together. Of course, he gave all of them a scolding for jumping to conclusions, but later in the day, when he was alone and reflected on the day, his cheeks began to hurt.

And that marked his actual descent into madness.

You began showing up in his dreams, smiling at him with those pretty, glossy lips, which he hadn't noticed until now. The grins you’d flash him across the room when he passed by, and the way you’d make cat hands or ears over your head whenever you saw him to tease him, made him feel weird. Gosh, did you have to be so pretty? Jungwon couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He craved your warmth, the warmth you gave him when you held him to your chest, the warmth you gave him when you hugged and called him annoying. Was it weird that he liked the way you could beat him up?

Jungwon was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone dinged.

Today was another mundane day, where he spent his lunch period in the Council room, looking through the schedule.

It was the Class Council group chat.

wonyoung jang: my friend said something fishy is going on in building b

wonyoung jang: someone go check it out?

jini choi: can't, i'm in a meeting rn

jini choi: jinwoo?

wonyoung jang: forget it he never checks the gc

wonyoung jang: jungwon?

Jungwon was already on it.

It wasn't uncommon for people to cause problems during lunch. In fact, that seemed to be the time when most people created the most commotion—

Oh my god, it was you.

When he rounded the corner, there you were. You had your arms crossed over your chest, backed up against a locker. The ones cornering you? Ricky, Gyuvin, and their lackeys.

"You're getting boring, yeah [Name]?" Ricky grinned. "I don't see you fighting back as much."

You shrugged, but you were clearly tense, narrowing your eyes. "I don't want to deal with you guys anymore."

Ricky slowly buttoned his shirt, revealing scars. Scars from scratchmarks. The same scars that Jungwon gave him.

"You see this?" his gaze hardened. "You and your goddamn vermin gave this to me.'

You looked at him incredulously, but you couldn't hide the small curve in your lip. "Okay. And?"

Ricky slammed his fist against the metal locker next to your head, making a loud clang! You cried out in surprise, jolting in place. Heck, even Jungwon was startled, quietly jumping out his skin for a second.

"You think this is funny?" Ricky slammed his fist again, relishing in the way you squeezed your eyes shut in sheer bewilderment. "You think you can get away with this shit?"

Your eyes darted around. Clearly, you were out-numbered and overpowered. Yet, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Yeah, I do," you muttered. "It was funny, the way you screamed like a girl, Ricky."

Ricky snatched your face, his hand clutching your chin. He leaned in close to you, so close that you felt his breath on your face. 

"You bitch."

Meanwhile, Jungwon's heart raced in his chest.

It was getting out of hand: how many people chose to bother you. You were honestly just minding your business, why did people want to pester you so much? He needed to step in before things escalated. And get you the fuck out of there.

Jungwon's body moved quicker than his mind. 

"Hey!" he shouted, making his presence known. Everyone's head whipped over to him. Jungwon gulped as his mind went into overdrive trying to figure out what to say. Curse himself, why did he jump into this without thinking? What a genius.

"Look who it is," Gyuvin slyly stepped forward. "[Name]'s little crush."

If Jungwon wasn't about to be jumped, he would have turned red at that little comment. He was too focused on the fact that you were in possible danger. 

"Yanno, Mr. Class President," Gyuvin paced toward him, his brows raised to his forehead. "[Name] here named her cat after you. Isn't it weird how she's obsessed with you?"

Your eyes were wide like saucers, sending him warning signals. 

'You need to leave,' your eyes read, but Jungwon ignored it. This entire time, he pranced around as the Class President, feeling righteous, yet he never even tried to empathize with someone like you. How could he claim his title but be so clearly blinded by dumb prejudice?

Gyuvin gestured for Jungwon to come closer, pulling him so that he was right in front of you, face-to-face.

"This one causes a lot of trouble, doesn't she?" Gyuvin rasped. "Parading around like she's some kind of queen, when really she's just a little cunt."

"I know you're angry, Jungwon," Ricky added, motioning to you. "Let your anger out, won't you?"

They were right about him being angry. But not at you, not at the world, not at whatever internal conflict he had. 

At them.

Jungwon's hands balled into fists.

"You guys are out of your fuckin' minds," he grumbled, his shoulders shaking. Before they could respond, Jungwon raised his fist, and swung in as hard as he could at Gyuvin, square in the jaw. Immediately, the rest of their lackeys stumbled back, screaming out their leader's name.

This was your opportunity to fight back. Kicking off the wall, you landed a kick at Ricky in the stomach, pushing him to the ground. "Your breath stinks, by the way."

With your back turned, the next thing you heard was a yelp of pain.

Shit, Jungwon!

You yelled his name.

Jungwon, to your knowledge, was not a fighter. He didn't fight people daily, he wasn't violent, he didn't tell people that he'd "kick their asses" like you did. For goodness's sake, he was the Class President. He'd never even had a missing assignment, he was most definitely not going to be able to fight back, let alone land a punch—

But instead of seeing the poor guy on the floor with everyone else beating the crap out of him, you saw the opposite. Jungwon, with only a minute cut on his cheek and bruised knuckles, stood tall, while the rest of the guys (including Gyuvin) groaned on the floor.

How did he..?

Jungwon snatched your hand. Before you could process what the hell just happened, he started profusely asking you if you were okay, if you were hurt. Right in the middle of a whole bunch of dudes groaning in pain.

You squeezed his hand, before running off, pulling him with you.

"You're so annoying, Jungwon!" you scolded him as you wrapped his knuckles in the nurse's office. "Why would you jump into a fight like that—"

"You were in trouble," was all he said solemnly. 

"So what?!" You looked at him incredulously. "You're insane. You're the President, why would you—"

As you chided him, Jungwon found it difficult to focus. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, or the way that you were so close to him. As he sat on the counter, you found your place in between his legs, dabbing rubbing alcohol on the cut on his cheek. It stung, but he only dug his teeth into his bottom lip, instead gluing his eyes to the way your lips moved.

"Jungwon, are you even listening to me?!"

"Yeah, yeah."

You smacked his shoulder. "And you're still recovering from an injury from a few weeks ago, what would you do if they tried to kick you in the stomach again?!" You flicked his forehead.

Jungwon couldn't help the way he felt his lips lifting up. The way you worried about him made his chest feel warm, mindlessly nodding along and agreeing with every word you said.

"You know what?!" you huffed, a hand coming up to rub your temples. "How the hell did you beat them up so quickly back there?! That— That was unreal."

Jungwon opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. "— Do you also have some curse that makes you unnecessarily ripped all of a sudden?"

Your hand came up to squeeze his bicep. Although it was hard, especially when he flexed it for you with a grin, revealing his toned arms, it still didn't explain how the hell he was so strong.

"I didn't tell you?" Jungwon smiled. "I used to do Taekwondo."

"You did not tell me. I don't think there was ever a conversation where that came up—"

Jungwon threw his head back, letting a laugh tumble from his lips. "Well, now you know."

It must have been something in the air, because Jungwon would not have done this any other time, but he slithered his arm around your waist as you cupped his cheek gently, fixing up the cut on his face. His hand dangled at your hip, his fingertips brushing up against your thigh. Your eye fluttered over to it briefly, but you didn't seem bothered. In fact, you actually leaned in closer, your other hand sliding up his chest to grip his shoulder for stability. As he was sitting and you were standing, his head angled up at you. The way you gaze down at him, your expression rested, made him almost feel light-headed.

"What if they spread rumors about you, Jungwon?" you asked quietly.

"I wouldn't care," he answered simply.

"But you're the President," your brows knitted together. 

"So what?" Jungwon breathed. "Should the President be concerned over silly rumors?"

"Won't people be suspicious if it suddenly came out that Jungwon Yang beat up a few guys?"

If you asked Jungwon this a few weeks ago, he'd be worried out of his mind. He'd be afraid of his reputation being ruined, he'd be afraid of what others thought of him. But for some reason, it didn't concern him that much anymore.

"That's their problem, not mine."

Just as those words left his lips, his phone began to blow up. He glanced at it briefly; it was probably the groupchat or something, but as it continued to ding, you motioned to it.

"You might want to check that out."

So he did.

wonyoung jang: jungwon we need you right now

wonyoung jang: it's BAD BAD

wonyoung jang: everyone's saying you jumped ricky and gyuvin

jini choi: mr president we need you NOWW

You peeked over his shoulder, only seeing the last message.

"You should go, Jungwon."

"I don't want to."

You gave him a look.

"Suddenly so rebellious?" you nudged his shoulder, the corner of your lip raising. "C'mon, you have duties."

Begrudgingly, Jungwon up and left the nurse's office, sending you the brightest smile he could muster. 

The moment Jungwon stepped into the classroom, he was bombarded– no, completely besieged– with questions. The mere amount of people hounding him with questions was so much, that all their words blended together.

“Okay, okay!” he shouted, putting his hands out in front of him. “One at a time, Jesus Christ.”

They called for a very "needed class discussion."

Long story short, Jungwon thought that everyone was kind of dumb. The way they were all concerned about whether or not he actually beat up Ricky and Gyuvin was ridiculous. Although Jungwon was honestly tired, he wanted to be smart with his words. He didn't want to scare them, did he?

"No comment."

"I don't feel like talking about it."

"I have nothing to add to that."

He found himself crinkling his nose a little too often as those words came out of his lips more times than he could count.

"Jungwon," some girl in the back of the class spoke up. "I heard rumors that you and [Name] are dating. Is that true?"

The class erupted with even more talking, people from other classes even lining the doorway to listen to it. The way that lunch should have ended a long time ago, but the teachers let this continue because they were also nosy and wanted to know. Did it really matter that much?

"Man, I don't know how I feel about that."

"But Jungwon's too good for her."

"[Name]? Of all people?"

They didn't even know you, how could they come to that conclusion if they never even spoke to you?

"But [Name]'s a bitch!"

"How is our Class President dating a bully?"

Jungwon's lips pressed together to form a thin line as thin as paper. He'd always thought that he'd been good at controlling his emotions, but the anger that was threatening to spill out of his throat was rising to a boil, bubbling to the point that if he didn't do something about it now, he'd absolutely implode.

"That's enough," he said, too quiet for anyone to hear. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing, behind Jungwon slammed his hand on the front table. "That's enough!"

The room went silent.

He took a deep breath, trying his hardest to contain his feelings. 

"I don't see the relationship between my love life and the class's affairs," he said simply. "We are having a class discussion, and in our class discussions, we discuss problems relating to the class. In what way is the person I'm romantically interested in a problem that relates to the class?"

Silence.

Jungwon looked around with a cocked brow, expecting an answer.

Silence.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. 

He was tired.

As he pushed past people crowded at the door, Jungwon turned over his shoulder.

"By the way, I think [Name] is pretty cool. You guys should talk to her some time, maybe you'd be happier if you did."

And then he left.

Jungwon expected to find you back in the nurse's office, but he found you down the hall, your arms crossed over your chest, leaning against the wall.

He rushed to you, clutching your hands.

"[Name]," he said, "Hi."

You raised your brow at him, the corner of your lip lifting. "I'm pretty cool, aren't I?"

"Shut up," Jungwon muttered under his breath, but his eyes stayed stuck on you. He squeezed your hands. "Everyone's so annoying."

"I know," you squeezed his hand back. "You were cool back there, Jungwon."

Jungwon's cheeks warmed up at that compliment. Now that he realized that way your hands were in his, he felt his face prickle with heat. "Thanks..."

Somehow, your gaze felt too much for him to take. Jungwon avoided your eyes, choosing to look down at the floor. He felt your hand gently grasp his jaw, before forcing him to look at you.

"I really mean it," you said. "You're really the coolest. It's almost scary."

Jungwon opened his mouth to respond, but before he did...

Poof!

But this time, it wasn’t him that turned into a cat.

It was you.

"Not again!"

Jungwon seemed like a cat person. And he most definitely was one. 

The moment that your cat form appeared at his feet, he scooped you up. Taking off his uniform blazer, he carefully wrapped you in it, before (to your complete and utter surprise) he jumped the fence, skipping class.

You meowed profusely. You had no idea how Jungwon did it; as words tumbled out of your mouth, they only came out as meows, and when you tried to clutch his forearm, all you could do was curse your annoyingly small paws.

If it weren't for your feline form, you'd be scolding him, chiding him for skipping class.

He was silent until the two of you reached a stoplight, when he took you out of the wrap that was his blazer. With his thumb, gently rubbed the spot behind your ears. Without even realizing it, you purred, leaning into his touch as if to say,"More!"

Jungwon chuckled, and you could feel his chest rumbling. 

How embarrassing! How did he do this everyday for nearly a week and not go completely insane?! When he began rubbing your nose, laughing at the way that you fussed, Jungwon softly squeezed your stomach.

"It's my turn to take care of you, [Name]," he murmured, holding your feline face up to his. From your much smaller form, you could see every detail of his face— from the curve of his eyes, to the blemishes on his nose, to the divots in his half-chapped lips. You'd be lying if you didn't say that Jungwon had a nice face. You brought your paw up to his cheek, to which he chuckled again. He took your paw with his hand, before nuzzling his cheek into it.

When Jungwon finally arrived at his apartment, your question (where were his parents?) from weeks ago was finally answered: he lived away from them.

"Just like you," he whispered against your fur, rubbing your head as he flicked the lights on.

The next thing you knew, you were being bathed in warm, soapy water, as strawberry-scented bubbles filled the little bathtub. Jungwon dried you with his softest towel, and then you were eating the cat-equivalent of a five course meal.

"I feed the stray cats sometimes," he explained to you when your feline eyes gazed at him questioningly.

Was it normal for you to be so tired? You usually weren't this sleepy at this time in the day, yet you were. As you laid on Jungwon's lap, purring at the way his fingers ran through your fur, your eyes felt heavy.

It wouldn't hurt to doze off, right? After all, you were with Jungwon.

Jungwon tucked you into his bed, placing you on a pillow before covering you with a small blanket. He booped your nose.

Although he'd willingly skipped class today, he still had his own responsibilities that he'd like to attend to. He looked over all his homework, filing through all his important Presidential duties, and jamming in all the extra studying that was necessary. 

It was a quiet few hours for him. Every hour, or so, he'd go to check on you. Each time he did, you were soundly sleeping. Since you transformed into a cat during the day, there was no telling when or how you'd transform back. He wondered how you'd react when you transformed back. Would you be bashful about it? Or, like always, would you call him annoying, and tell him that he spread his "disease" to you? Jungwon's lips curved at the thought of that. You were cute as a cat, but he thought you were cuter as a human, obviously. 

As he worked away, Jungwon didn't notice the way the sun slowly sank into the horizon, its yellow face eventually disappearing. He was deep into focus when he heard a crash, and a small yelp. Coming from his room.

"Jungwon?" your voice called.

Immediately, he dropped his pen, dashing straight to his room. You were awake now, he thought. Maybe he could fit in a nice conversation with you, get closer to you, but that might be difficult when you were so pretty—

Oh.

The moment that Jungwon busted his bedroom door, he really didn't know what he expected.

But he definitely didn't expect to see you.

Naked, sprawled on his bed.

!!!

You let out a shrill scream. Jungwon's face flared with heat, immediately turning around. He buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"S-Sorry!"

He felt like he could have increased the global warming rate and melted multiple ice-caps just by the sheer amount of heat radiating off of his face. It was so bad that his eyes began to water from pure embarrassment. 

Jungwon must be dying, he thought. He might actually drop dead now.

He heard rustling, before your voice, much quieter than he'd ever heard it, murmured, "You can look now..."

Jungwon turned around, but he still kept his eyes shut. If he looked you in the eye now, he'd probably combust on the spot. Slowly, his eyes peeled open, to reveal you, just as embarrassed as him, curled up on his bed, with his blankets wrapped around you.

"Sorry," you muttered, your eyes glued to the floor, too shy to meet his. Your bottom lip jutted out to form a pout, your brows softly furrowing.

Jungwon waved his hands in front of him profusely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Y-You have nothing to apologize for."

"Right."

.

.

.

"Jungwon, I'm naked—"

He was already on it. Your school clothes were still in the washer, so Jungwon dug through his closet, throwing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He let you do your business, and just when Jungwon thought that all his embarrassment was gone, he saw you in his clothes.

Shit.

Jungwon clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to hide the growing smile on his cheeks.

You looked so... cute.

"Yah," you kicked him with your foot, still buried in his blankets. He could see the way your eyes were shifty, still avoiding his. "What're you laughing at?"

"Nothing," was all Jungwon said, but a smile was apparent in his voice.

"Stop laughing!" you threw a pillow at him.

This scene has happened before.

Jungwon laughed, his eyes pressing into thin crescents as his sharp teeth came into view. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. Why did he have to look pretty when he laughed?

You threw another pillow at him. Jungwon snatched the pillow off the floor, charging toward you. You let another shrill shriek escape your lips when he managed to land a hit on you with the pillow.

"Jungwon!" you cried, as he grabbed another pillow, hitting you on the top of your head. You struggled for another soft and plush weapon to use against your assailant, but alas, he was much faster and stronger than you, "Jungw— Hey!"

"You started it!" He was kneeling at the edge of the bed, when he reached for yet another one of his pillows. When he did this, Jungwon had to climb onto the bed entirely. You hit his hand away from his target pillow.

"You already have two pillows!" you nudged him with your foot. "Don't be unfair."

"All's fair in love and war," Jungwon said simply.

You stared at him incredulously, before you bursted out laughing. Jungwon's ears burned, but he didn't budge.

"Okay, you nerd." With that, you seized the pillow that he was so desperately trying to obtain, only for Jungwon to try to rob you of it. For the next few minutes, you and Jungwon struggled over the pillow, ripping it out of each other's hands.

"Let go!" you cried.

"Absolutely not!"

It was going just fine. A friendly pillow fight. Right?

Except, Jungwon miscalculated one of his movements, causing him to launch himself forward. He landed right on top of you, his hands right beside your head with his arms caging you below him.

Oh.

Oh.

With his dark locks falling over his face, Jungwon gazed down at you with wide eyes. The way you looked back up at him, eyes glittery and lips parted, your breath heavy from the earlier play-fighting, made his heart race. Why were your lips so glossy under the light? Why did his bed fit you so perfectly? Why did you look so pretty when you were in his clothes in his bed in his arms? Why did he want to lean in and—

On your end, your heart was palpitating just as much as Jungwon's was. But of course, you didn't know that.

The lamp next to his bed casted a dim, orange light, and even under the shadow, Jungwon's honey tan skin glowed. 

There was something about the way his toned arms dangled over your head, or the way you could see his collarbones peeking out of his shirt, or the way that his neck just looked so goddamn kissable right now—

The two of you could have been staring into each other's eyes for minutes or for hours, there really wouldn't have been a difference.

"Uh, sorry," Jungwon finally said, the embarrassment finally settling in. He began to maneuver off of you, the warmth of your touch being ripped away from him.

No! You didn't want him to get off of you! You wanted him to be close to you!

You grabbed his wrist, yanking him down. Instead of caging you, Jungwon instead was now met with a faceful of your chest, much to his embarrassment.

"[Name]...!" he spluttered, but you didn't care. You pressed your hand on his back, making the rest of his body relax into yours, before you ran your hands through his hair.

"I'm tired," you muttered in his ear. "I want to sleep."

"Y-You just woke up..!" his voice was muffled by your chest and shoulder.

"I don't care." Your fingers stopped in his hair, before you reached for his lamp, switching it off. "We're sleeping."

All Jungwon could do was sigh, admitting defeat to you. He relaxed into your body, taking in your sweet scent, though with reddened cheeks. He thanked the newfound darkness for concealing the color of his face. Realizing that you were no longer playing with his hair, Jungwon clutched your hand, dragging it and plopping it right on top of his head.

"Play with my hair, [Name]."

"You're annoying," you whispered, but you complied. You were so warm, and soft, and calming. Jungwon felt all his worries melt away, which was why he couldn't help but nuzzle his face into your chest. You cocked a brow at him, pausing to flick his forehead. "Okay, you perv."

Jungwon shot up. "I'm not a—!"

You pushed his head down back into your chest, your other arm coming up to hold him in place. "Go back to sleep."

And who was he to refuse you?

Jungwon and you saw each other quite often after that. In passing, you'd always shoot him that signature smile, accompanied by a punch on the shoulder, or a light slap on the arm, or even a soft shove. Some days, you'd drop by the Council room and say hi to him, maybe even look over his Presidential papers. You got suspicious looks whenever you did, but the glare of the class's residential troublemaker and the Class President was enough to send people spiraling.

Day by day, Jungwon's feelings grew for you. Exponentially. It could be little things, like how you'd send him questioning looks when someone said something questionable, or the way that you'd scrunch your nose whenever he purposefully stared at you. But it was also the other moments outside of school that he valued, like when he found you feeding a few stray cats, or when he saw at the grocery store stocking up on cat food (just in case you or him turned into a cat again, your words not his). 

Little did he know, you, too, blossomed a crush. You didn't talk to many people, so Jungwon was special. You liked that he was diligent and hard-working, and his snobbery wasn't really existent. He was one of, if not the only, person that you chose to tolerate. He was cute, someone that you wouldn't mind being around.

It's been long known to Jungwon that he wasn't always as smart as he thought he was. But sometimes he thought he was plain stupid.

“I like you,” Jungwon blurted one day after school, as you helped him look over his papers. The moment that those words left his mouth, Jungwon wanted to eat them. 

As spring came rolling into your lives, the days were getting longer. Sunlight illuminated the empty classroom, casting a delicate shadow on your features. 

Jungwon didn't know what came over him, what spirit decided to possess him in that moment.

After a few moments, you said, "Okay."

.

.

.

Okay?

Just.

Okay?

Jungwon squeezed his eyes shut as his heart plummeted to his stomach. Of course he had no chance with you. How could he? Was he getting ahead of himself? Had he been misinterpreting your relationship this entire time?

Just as embarrassment crashed down on Jungwon, you clicked your tongue.

"Can you stop panicking?" you asked frankly. When you noticed his very red expression, you huffed. "I didn't reject you, if that's what you're thinking—" you pinched your nose-bridge— "Just, let me think of a response."

That only made Jungwon sink deeper into his seat. Oh, he was so naive! What would happen after this? He didn't want to lose his friendship with you, not at all! Maybe he should die, maybe the earth should just open up right now and eat him alive—

“Jungwon,” you finally said. “I think you’re really cute.”

Jungwon held his breath.

“But,” you continued. “This is a little fast for me.”

As catastrophe rained down on his shoulders, you stifled a giggle.

Setting down your pen, you rested your hand on your fist, gazing over at the boy.

Gently, as if he were a piece of glass, your fingers clutched his chin, moving his face to look at you. Jungwon's eyelids fell shut at your touch. Biting back a grin, you leaned in toward him. Experimentally, you came just close enough for Jungwon to feel your breath against his lips, ghosting you lips over his. You watched the way his brows knitted together, his lips wobbling.

Cute.

You pressed one kiss on his right eyelid. You felt his shoulders tense under you, but you only smiled. You pressed another kiss on his left eyelid. Before he could react, you pulled away.

“Take me out on a date first, yeah?” there was a smile in your voice.

Jungwon stood frozen in his spot, before his eyes shot open.

Date?

“And bring me flowers,” there was a teasing, but also dreamy, tone in your voice. “I like roses.”

The way Jungwon just stared at you with widened, glossy eyes, dumbfounded beyond words made you throw your head back, laughter bubbling from your chest.

You leaned in toward him again, collecting his hands in yours.

“I like sweets, but anything with too much chocolate makes me sick,” you leaned in closer. “I’m free every day, since none of the teachers are on my dick anymore.”

You put your finger to your lip in thought. “If you don’t want to go anywhere, we can come over to my house and nap. I like being hugged and I get cold easily.”

“W-Wait, what?!”

Jungwon felt so much blood rush to his face, he almost fainted.

"I like you, too," you said simply, as if it were just another fact and not one of the most ground-breaking discoveries of Jungwon's life! "I want you to take me out on a date."

Jungwon blinked.

You got up from your chair, yawning and stretching. Then, you began packing up your things.

"I have to go now," you flashed him a grin. "I'm tired."

As you made your way to the door, Jungwon finally realized where he was, and what the hell was happening: you, his crush, liked him back, and this was his chance.

"W-Wait!" Jungwon blurted, his hand jerking out to grab your wrist. Almost like you were hoping for him to do that, you turned over your shoulder, humming.

"This Saturday!" Jungwon gulped down those dumb words that threatened to spill out his mouth, the ones that would make him look even more like a fool. "Go out with me this Saturday, 5PM."

You only smiled. "Okay. Saturday, 5PM. Got it."

The two of you stood like that for what felt like hours. Jungwon darted his tongue out to swipe over his bottom lip. He wanted to say something to you, but he simply couldn't bring himself to utter words.

"You won't turn into a cat, on me, yeah?" you teased him, the corner of your lip raising up. Oh, how much he wanted to kiss them. How would your hand fit in his? What should he wear? Where would you go?

"No..." Jungwon answered, too dazed. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You slipped out of his grasp, making your way out of the room. Though, your footsteps as they faded away sounded more excited than usual.

Jungwon was left there in the classroom, alone. He blinked a few more times, letting a few more pulses pass, before his face broke out with a smile.

There he stood, hiding his face in his palms. 

Oh, he couldn't wait until Saturday.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

[moon-reblogs]

come on baby, don’t say that. / park sunghoon

park sunghoon x fem reader

synopsis : you were curious whether or not your boyfriend was a possessive type so you tested it out.

includes: 1.4k words | fluff 4 sunghoon stans (aka me) , suggestive ending oohooolala | VAMP SUNGHOON | zb1 taerae appearance! | sunghoon is a menace but so is y/n… grrr possessive sunghoon … | both are simps but cuties patooties <33

extra: his part in the baby shark movie lives in my mind 24/7, i hear it everywhere anytime and it’s making me LOSE my damn sanity | the ONE fansign video of op asking questions to sunghoon about dating ggggrrrrrrr | literally last minute drabble i had , it was supposed to be posted for my birthday but studies got in the way .. ew studies…:// | en o’ clock reference⁉️

likes, comments and reposts are very appreciated <3

[below the cut]

curiosity perhaps did kill the cat.

you wore your favorite dress (also sunghoon’s favorite dress), styled your favorite into a bun with two strands on each side of your face, wore makeup to emphasize your face features and wore your favorite ruffled socks to put your loafers on.

you dolled yourself so much just for sunghoon’s attention, but on the bright side you felt pretty all dressed up.

you didn’t know what was purpose of doing this to yourself up when you didn’t have any plans.

one day, bored in your living room of both you and sunghoon’s apartment, you came across a video on your foryou page about possessive behavior in someone’s partner. it made you think about your boyfriend’s behavior; curiosity overwhelming your thoughts. you tried to imagine what your boyfriend will do if these scenarios were to happen.

so, you planned out a script - going to the movie theatre with your male friend, eating with your male friend, etc. ; literally spending a whole day with a male friend. heck, you can’t imagine doing those things with a male other than sunghoon. you don’t even have money in your wallet right now.

you’ve always known sunghoon as a quiet yet clingy type of boyfriend. he wasn’t openly expressive with his clinginess he would be subtle. even with that itself it made your heart pound like crazy. but you wanted to take a step further on how clingy he could get.

you stepped out of the room, already seeing sunghoon lying around in the living room couch with his eyes glued to the tv. his eyes immediately diverted to you, getting your loafers out in front of the door.

“where are you going?” he asked, his eyes scanning to your dressed up figure. you knew he was shamelessly checking you out. it made your heart flutter and somehow boosted up your ego. but you shouldn’t be phased by his attractive face.

he wanted to compliment you but he spoke without thinking. he wonders where your gorgeous self is going especially with that little dress you owned that he loves on your body. he wonders what was the special occasion.

you put on a soft smile while adjusting your shoes. you noticed that sunghoon stood up, eyes still checking you out and wonders how such a dress curves your body so well.

sunghoon had a small smirk with his hands on his pocket, abandoning the pillow on his lap. it flopped next to him.

you smelt sunghoon’s signature scent of musk and a blend of roses. he wore his favorite grey hoodie that was stained with his cologne. it was because you would borrow it.

now that sunghoon was in front of you, he continue to look at you as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. that’s when you spoke. “mhm just going out.” you spoke sweetly to sunghoon but he kept you against the wall as the door was right next to the both of you but you didn’t comment. you knew he was trapping you.

“with who?” you noticed how sunghoon raised an eyebrow and how his expression slowly changed into a sad one that he wasn’t the person you’re going out with.

“just a friend of mine.” you looked up to sunghoon and noticed how your answer didn’t satisfied him so you pushed it further. “a male friend of mine.” you placed a hand on his chest, lightly playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“excuse me?” sunghoon spoke, slightly amused because usually you would hang out with your female friends.

your heart was starting to exhilarate when his voice octaves dropped. “hanbin? mark? jisung?” he started rambling of the guy friends that you had on the top of his head.

you were surprised at how many he remembered. is that a good thing?

sunghoon noticed your eyes widening so he took a deep breath and placed a soft smile that seemed a bit fake from your perspective.

“don’t go.”

what a contrast.

you almost snickered when you noticed sunghoon’s lips twitching, trying to lee his smile still but his hands wrapped around your waist, wrapped further until his hands reached his elbows. you were cold to him, close enough that your hands on his chest was the only barrier separating you two.

you found it somehow adorable to see him pouting.

you copied him. “taerae and i planned to go out and work work on our project for a while now.” you mentally apologized for using your friend’s name on the spot but you panicked to make something new on top of your head.

“where are you guys going?” you couldn’t handle sunghoon’s stare despite dating him so you looked down towards his buff chest. sometime about his stare sparked jealousy and agitated but he kept his mouth shut.

“we planned to watch a movie theatre together then a cafe and then the library.”

“alone?”

“yeah..”

you swore when you looked up at sunghoon, he was frozen, mouth apart as he was speechless. his eyes started to twitch. he then blinked at you multiple times to see if you were joking.

well, you were. but you kept a serious face on which didn’t show any sort of crackling.

“it sounds more like a date.” you can tell his whiny tone with his words, lips pouting that made you want to pinch his cheeks but you held back.

you shook his head. “why would i have a date with taerae when i can have with you?” you tilted your head, chuckling at his remark. “you’re literally my boyfriend.” you giggled lightly.

sunghoon sighed. “then don’t go. i’ll help you with the project instead, heck i’ll go to taerae instead of you.” his eyes were showing pettiness that you can’t help but lightly giggle. you saw sunghoon’s grumpy expression as he kept you close to him.

you poked at his birth mole under his eye. “boop.” were the words you let out but it didn’t phase sunghoon, keeping his grumpy expression on.

“we don’t even attend the same college hoon.” sunghoon’s eyes soften when you easily roll off his nickname out loud. he rather rolled his eyes instead.

“i have to go soon,” you looked at the clock behind sunghoon’s figure. it was 2pm. you were surprised your acting has gone this far and you’re continuing. you thought it was fun to make your boyfriend jealous.

“hoon, let go of me.” your hands flew to his triceps, surprised at how his muscle flexed against your touch. you lightly touched his muscle which broke sunghoon’s grumpy expression again.

you looked at him with an eyebrow raise, hoping he would be persuaded to let you go but he shook his head like a kid.

“come on baby, don’t say that.”

your heart beat started pounding like crazy. you were astonished at the unexpected sentence. you suddenly stared at sunghoon, how a strand of hair was covering his eye so you unconsciously moved it behind his ear, eyes watching your actions. sunghoon stared at your lips, stained with your red lipstick.

“taerae can wait another day.” sunghoon started rubbing your back with his hands, making you frozen and loosing your train of thoughts.

yeah forget taerae.

“it would be amazing to show him how beautiful my girlfriend is but i want you to myself right now baby.” sunghoon started to lean closer, his hand cupping your jaw and slowly easing your cheek with his soft fingers.

you closed your eyes and leaned against his relaxing touch. “you sound possessive park.” you were satisfied with your act, chuckling slightly at how amused you are.

sunghoon giggled as well, his deep giggle erupting in him as you felt him leaning more into you. “mhmm maybe?” he shrugged with a smile.

you opened your eyes and see sunghoon staring at you with love and affection. you can’t help but to plant a lot of kisses to his lips. you saw sunghoon staring at your lips and you predicted what was gonna happen next.

“mhmm yeah.” you smiled mischievously at sunghoon, removing his arms from your waist and turned around towards the door which showed your back to him.

maybe you’re not done yet.

but before you can open the door, sunghoon wrapped his arms once again which prevented you from not moving. your hands reached to the cold door handle but didn’t touch. his hands gripped your hips which indicated a new side of your boyfriend, park sunghoon.

sunghoon’s lips pecked your neck. “not on my watch.” his hot breath contrasted your cold skin, tickling you.

your heart paused at his actions.

you felt your boyfriend’s chest against your back, giving you instant warmth to your cold, clammy skin. his hug was very comforting and at this point you gave up with your little skit.

“possessive and back hugging me? how romantic.” you chuckled. you felt a sharp pain in the side of your neck, “ow!” you shouted in shock when it was sunghoon’s playful behavior of showing his love. you knew sunghoon had fangs and he unfortunately is abusing that characteristic of his by biting you. you rather found it his fangs adoring yet a bit hot that your boyfriend looked like an actual vampire.

you felt sunghoon’s tongue’s slowly soothing that area when he licked your pain away; like a cat. you smiled when he hugged you tighter as his face was dug into your neck as if you’ll disappear.

sunghoon abruptly stopped hugging you but rather grabbed your hand, dragging you across the hallway towards the bed that both of you live in, filled with smiles and flustered cheeks.

thank you for reading<3 hope you enjoyed!

[moon-reblogs]

THIS IS SO GOOD????? THIS IS SO UNHEALTHY BUT I MIGHT BE OBSESSED NOW 🙈 10 OUTTA 10 N DID REC TO A FRIEND 🤩

FRENZY  ៸៸៸ part one

Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect. 

៸៸៸  part two here ៸៸៸ you must read both parts to get the full story

 ៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader 

 ៸៸៸ minors dni

 ៸៸៸ wordcount: 33k (part two: 14.2k)

 ៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut

 ៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him. 

 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.

 ៸៸៸ a/n: this was way way way longer than I anticipated it to be but i mean…….it’s slow burn so take it or leave it. anyway, huge shout out to @drunkhazed for not only encouraging me to write this every time I lost steam for it, but even helping me work out some of the details. i hope this fic was worth the wait even tho tumblr is forcing me to post it in two parts.

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press,  standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s been days since he left his apartment. The skin around his fingernails have been chewed up, his eyes are red and heavy with sleep, and he still can’t bring himself to move from this spot. Disgusting as it may be, he loves it. It wasn’t like this before but that doesn’t matter too much to him right now.

The spot in front of his window has become his home within the apartment, a place where he can feel weightless and deserving of life’s pleasures. The sun is more bearable like this, the moon is prettier, even the rain sounds better now. The windowsill is lined with empty cans and food wrappers, a pile of laundry has been sitting in the corner since he started settling in this chair, and it’s gotten to the point now that nothing else in this apartment is of interest to him. Sleep comes easy in this chair too, so why move if he doesn’t have to?

He knows his last load of laundry is slowly molding over from not moving them into the dryer days ago, he knows his food is slowly going expired, and he’s aware now that bothering to wear clothes is pointless, they’ll just make the laundry pile bigger. He needs no distractions from this view, save for a quick bathroom trip and sprint to the front door to pick up his food orders. Each moment spent away from this space after five in the afternoon is a waste to him. 

How did he get here? How did he get to this point in his life? You. You’re how he got here. It’s your fault for moving into the apartment next door, your fault for accepting a space within view of his bedroom window, and it’s your fault he waits all day for you to come home, learning your schedule day by day. 

It started the day he forced himself out of bed. A Saturday afternoon. It was the first time he had the energy to do it after a month of barely moving, given that his recent breakup rendered him a shell of his former self. Recent to him anyway, it had been a year since she moved out, a year was like a day to him though. Time blurs when you’re shifting between resentment and numbness, and he really would have figured he'd have gotten over that breakup by then but he wasn’t. The words she last said to him resonated every minute of the day in his head, “he’s my brother!”, “you broke my phone?!”, “you’re fucking insane, Jake!”

It was a surprise to him that the man in her call log actually was her brother, but still a man at that and he didn’t like it. She was to be loyal to one man. Him. Only him. And she wasn’t, but none of that mattered to him after he got out of bed that Saturday afternoon. 

When he stood to his feet and began to dig through his closet for a shirt that didn’t smell like stale depression, it was much the same as any other day when he had the energy to do this. This time though, he opened his blinds and nearly fell on his ass at the warm sun boring through his window at him. He stood there feeling the warmth for a moment before his eyes adjusted enough to look around at the lively streets below. 

Even through his displeased huff, he stayed looking. If anyone cared to notice, this would be a good sign coming from him. One that shows that maybe he’s thinking about going out for once. Maybe he wants to call up an old friend that he hasn’t spoken to in almost a year and catch up on those lively streets. And you know, maybe that could have happened if it weren’t for the fact that something else catches his eye. 

Directly across the street sits a much nicer apartment building, and in his direct line of sight is a large window with opened blinds. Inside, stood you. He didn’t know you at the time, of course he didn’t, but at that moment he instantly knew that he had to know you. It was like slow motion, a rush of euphoria streaming in his veins as he looked at you for the first time. After so long in a slump, resenting and vibrating hate toward an ex, seeing you was like a glass of cold water during a drought. Even from so far away he knew you had a pretty face. Even from here, he knew you’d want to meet him too.

An immediate attachment he felt, to a stranger across the street unknowing of his existence.

 And that’s how he got to this point, growing so fond of watching you through that window day after day. It’s been weeks now since he started, and only the past two days have rendered him unable to move from the spot. He’s lucky his parents fund this apartment for him under the guise of him getting a degree that he no longer attends classes for. Because, well, he doesn’t want to miss a single moment with you. He’s growing so planted to this uncomfortable computer chair and barely caring because when you come home at five in the evening every day, this chair becomes much more comfortable to him. Almost as if it doesn’t exist, hell, he’s practically floating when he watches you. 

It’s your own fault he’s like this. It’s your fault you leave those blinds open, it’s your fault for walking around in close to nothing within the safety of your own home. If you didn’t want him to watch you do it, surely you would have closed the blinds by now. 

You’re practically inviting him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a given that within those weeks of watching you his obsession hit peak insanity by the time he ended up planted in place by the window. Now though, he’s making plans in his head, because he knows it’s not healthy to just watch. He knows he deserves more than just feeling himself up as he imagines being in that spacious apartment across the street with you. By now, the relief his hand offers pisses him off. He wonders more and more every day what you smell like, what you feel like, how warm you must be. He deserves to know. 

Such a pretty girl all alone over there, maybe you need some protecting from the other strange men probably watching you too. Jake isn’t strange though, he just likes you. A lot. Enough now to leave this chair in front of the window when he knows you’ll be at work. Enough to actually get up and shower, enough to start working out again in front of that window just in case you arrive home early. Enough to know your schedule like the back of his hand. Enough to clean his apartment, to throw out his building piles of trash, to shave and touch up his grown out hair. 

Enough to follow you to the grocery store and purchase the exact things you purchase, cooking later what he presumed to be your dinner and eating it with you there at the window. 

It’s gotten to that point, where his confidence is high and he feels as though it’s time. It’s time to stop waiting around but he needs to know more about you before meeting you officially. That’s the only road block by this time and he can only think of one way to do this. After all, he doesn’t even know your name in order to look you up online. 

So, its early Monday morning and he knows you’ve got work for at least eight hours and, well, he’s got a fucking need. 

He watches you in the window before you leave for work, his room now dramatically different than before. Clean. He looks in the mirror, proud of the way he looks now with his stylishly messy hair and skin moisturized. You’d like him better like this, right? 

He doesn’t even grab a bag to bring with him, because he knows if he forgets anything he brings, you’d take note of someone being there. You might become hyper aware, you might find out it was him in the future. There are too many risks in that. So, he just brings himself, which should be enough.

Going outside was an experience as it always was for him. He always feels so out of place and so entirely alone when he walks near other people. Always wondering if they see him too much or not at all. Thankfully, your apartment is just across the street and it’s a quick trip to get inside of the building. He knew the security here is trash, after all, he’s watched this building door for so long by now, that even if he were to be stopped, he’d know how to get inside anyway. He sees the side doors, the ladder in the alley way, all of it. 

When he steps inside, part of him almost wants to turn back and purchase a small camera to hide in your apartment. He slaps himself on the forehead for not thinking of that sooner, but he’s already here so he might just have to take note of that for later. 

With a polite smile he nods to a single security guard and receives a stern nod back. His insides are crawling with energy at how easy this is, and he feels fucking giddy. As he works his way up, entering wrong floor after wrong floor, he finally lands his feet on your floor. He can tell because he double checks, and then triple checks by looking out of the big hallway windows and finding his own apartment straight across the way. 

He smiles wide at the apartment doors, noting the lack of code entry locks and finding simple turn-key locks. This is perfect, because he practiced a skill for this specific purpose. Lock-picking. He hopes it comes in handy as he pulls out his miniature tools. 

That practice did come in handy, and he smiles to himself with a near sob of happiness at the sound of what he presumed to be your apartment door unlocking. Intelligent, that’s what he is. 

He steps inside and instantly he is dizzy. He was right, he was fucking spot on. This is your apartment, and he can’t help but stand in the doorway frozen at the very thought that he fucking did it. He made it in and now your apartment is his for the next few hours if he so wishes.

The first thing he does is go to your window and gaze across the street. Seeing his own window from here felt surreal, thinking back to all of those nights he came undone to the thought of standing in this exact spot. His body reacts quickly to the space, twitching in his pants at the adrenaline he feels. 

If there is anywhere in the world he could be right now, this would be the exact spot. He hasn’t felt this excited in a long time, even compared to when he first saw you and his heart went from rotting to filling with love. It’s hard at this moment for him to turn around and look somewhere other than his view of that all-too-familiar window of his, but he manages. He’s slow to turn around, taking in each breath with intention, every glance burning into his memory. From the open curtains, to the open blinds just behind them, to the dull color of the paint on your walls. 

He smiles as he notes that your apartment is clean, almost obsessively so. It’s also much nicer compared to his own even when it was brand new. You seem to like candles, apple and sugar cookie scented candles. He can tell from the amount littered around the open living room and kitchen. The dull scent dragging his senses into euphoria. You also seem to like plants, you like shoes, you like plushies. 

He nods as he takes note of everything in your apartment before sauntering out of the living space and toward the hallway. There, he enters the bathroom first.

Clean still, save for a pile of dirty clothes thrown carelessly into the corner. Before he focuses too much on that pile of clothing though, he stares at your shower, taking note of the other scents you’re drawn to before trailing his fingers along the shower wall. Still damp from your morning shower, he presumes. He lets himself feel the sensation of the droplets soaking his fingertips, running it along several areas of the wall before pulling his hand back. He looks at his glistening fingers for a few moments, preparing himself for a new sensation as he places his fingers to his lips. Sucking in the remnants of your shower and humming. Then, ecstatic with the taste, it’s easy for him to balance himself against the wall and bring his face close to a few more unbothered droplets, licking them into his mouth and relishing in the feeling of the cold shower wall against his tongue. His cheeks dampen through the act, and even when he pulls back for a moment, he can’t bear to wipe away the condensation. 

It tastes like water, but it’s your water. And as he continues to suckle against the wall, he finally pulls back and places his fingers back into his mouth to suck off any last remaining droplets. His eyes now flick to that pile of laundry. Based on your cleanliness in the rest of the apartment, he assumes you’ll probably wash these later, which is a fucking waste. He confirms in his head the loss it would be not to take something, and so, he plans to. 

Fingers still in his mouth, he fumbles with his other hand to shove each piece of clothing up to his face, inhaling the scent of your sleep because these were clearly the pajamas he saw you wearing last night. The scent is dull but he swears he can smell your skin on this fabric and it’s enough to cause another twitch in his pants. His cock already growing heavy and sensitive in the confines of his pants. 

Finally, the pair of panties. Worn, crumpled on the floor in a presentation too beautiful to resist. He drops your shorts carelessly to grab at them, his fingers leaving his mouth just to smear across the seat of the garments before instantly he’s sighing out in a soft moan. Nuzzling his lips and nose into them, inhaling for an even longer time compared to the other articles of clothing. It’s as if he’s inhaling a deep hit from a blunt, the scent making him dizzy and entirely hot in the face. He could cry, honestly, as he dips his tongue out just for a moment to taste. Heightening his sensations of you. It was euphoric feeling them in his hand, against his face, in his mouth. Even more so with the scent of them, worn from the day and clearly needing a wash. It was relieving to him in some way, fondling the panties seems to push him further from the reality he’s in, sending his mind into colorful image after image of what these must have looked like clinging to your pussy. 

He’s quick to stuff them into his pocket after he gets his fill, forgetting only for a moment that there’s more to explore and that he can’t just sit here all day and jerk off to a single pair of panties. He’s sure you have more for him somewhere. And with that, he moves his eyes to your bathroom counter. 

Gazing at your toothbrush momentarily, he fights off the idea of taking that too. Ultimately deciding that you’d definitely think something was off if that went missing.This doesn’t prevent him from touching though, as he reaches forward and runs his fingers along the bristles. Just as suspected, it’s still damp too from your morning routine. The sensation of the bristles along his fingers is somehow more arousing than anything else right now, and it’s hard for him to hold back. His cock is now heavy in his pants, leaking against his zipper and begging to be let out. He holds back still though, even as he brings the toothbrush up to his lips much like your other items. He takes in a deep breath first before licking along the handle up to the bristles. Still tastes like toothpaste, and the taste is far too overpowering to be able to taste you. Still, his hips lunge forward against the counter as he tastes another part of you. 

He stays like that for a while, hips pressing forward every few seconds in search of the friction his zipper offers, and your toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he rummages around your drawers and cabinets. 

By the time he has searched every inch of your bathroom, he finally places your toothbrush back into its place and stares at it for a moment longer. If you continue to use it, it’s like you’re kissing him. He hopes you like it as much as he does. And just like that, his interest in the bathroom is gone. Excitement bubbles up yet again, knowing that he still has more of your space to explore for his own pleasure. He adjusts his length in his pants and sighs with a dazed smile and leaves the bathroom almost exactly as you left it.

Quietly, he goes further down the hallway. There's only one other room and he just knows that it’s your bedroom, that much is clear. You always keep these blinds closed but sometimes he can see your shadow when you turn on your light at night. This is where he wants to be right now, and upon opening that door, he’s immediately hit with another new scent. Home. 

He doesn’t waste his time indulging himself here, throwing himself forward onto your bed, face down, and instantly groaning at the feeling of his sore cock hitting your mattress under his own weight. By this point, it’s weeping with pre-cum and staining his jeans with a large dampened spot. The feeling is so much to handle as he lays there trying to breathe through the raw feeling of how badly he wants to fuck something. How badly he wants to fuck you. 

He laughs to himself in the bliss of your scent as he tears up, gripping your duvet and covering his face with it. He breathes heavily as his gleefully aroused tears begin to soak into the fabric. Then, because of course he would, he gags himself by stuffing that very same duvet past his lips. He closes his eyes now, imagining that you let him in, you’re here with him, you’re here under him. The scent of apples and cookies would be drenching the air, your panties would be wet and begging to be off of you. Fuck, he wants to consume these sheets the same way he wants to consume you. 

Immediately, he sucks on the fabric with a lift to the corner of his lips, smiling as he tastes the closest thing in this apartment to your body save for the panties in his pocket. He feels like he’s floating right now, and he would be a fool to hold off any longer. He wants to have his way here, hoping that you don’t notice the stains he plans to leave behind. Hoping you sleep on them, hoping you sit your bare pussy against the same spot he intends to fuck as hard as he would fuck you. 

He slides a hand down between his body and the mattress and dips into his pants with a visible shiver, finally offering himself relief. Long and slender fingers making their way around his length and instantly he’s unable to keep quiet. His eyebrows lift in relief at the feeling, rubbing his tongue raw against your duvet with his muffled moans, writhing wildly as he begins to fuck forward. His ears are ringing, his finger tips are burning against his own arousal, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so fucking happy in his life than he is right now. 

As he continues, his wrist is being rubbed raw much like the head of his cock and his tongue. So many sensations come from the fabric you provide and, god, he loves it. He can’t help it when he aggressively shoves his pants down, allowing his pre-cum to spurt out of him, instantly staining your sheets and causing him to pick up the pace. Fucking against his hand and humping with no real rhythm. 

His moans come out in short, muffled whimpers. Your blanket in his mouth makes the sound more pathetic than it already would have been, but he loves the way the sounds echo off of your walls. It’s like he was meant to be in this room doing this. Like this is the only room he should be intimate in, whether it be with himself or you. He wants to moan like this not just because of you but, for you. He wants you to play with him, he wants you to fucking destroy him, mocking his overly sensitive cock until he’s crying. 

His mind is spinning as he fucks forward with these images in his head, the scent of you only drives him further and further from the reality at hand. He sobs only a little when he pushes the duvet out of his mouth, quickly replacing that with your pillow. He buries his face into it so hard that he nearly can’t breathe. The lack of oxygen hitting him second by second until he’s gasping for the same warm air that’s being trapped by the plush pillow, his orgasm bubbles up quickly with each jerk of his body. 

Faster and faster he fucks into his palm, paying no mind to the burn on the under side of his cock that repeatedly rubs against the sheets. His muffled breath now comes out in short cries of laughter as he feels his release approaching. He chases it aggressively, violently. He wants his cock to fucking ache for you.

And it does, a mixture of searing heat and release hitting him all at once. He can’t breathe as his body stutters against your sheets, his pathetic cock continuously releasing a greedy amount just for you to sleep soundly in later. 

Then he just lays there, feeling every last drop leave him and make a home within your sheets and mattress. All he can do is grin as he tries to catch his breath, rolling over and feeling his already-spent cock pulse at the cold air that hits it. He lifts his head to look down at it, noting how red it is even as it softens up. Again, he’s floating right now. He can’t believe he managed to get inside, he can’t believe he has your panties, he can’t believe he’s even tasted you. 

Through his blissed out state, his eyes begin to travel around your room as he comes down from his high. Heart pounding still, he realizes he didn’t comprehend a single corner of this room the second he saw your bed. It was like he cared about nothing, it was like he died and went to heaven, and he wouldn’t have it any other way save for you being on this bed with him. 

Then, his eyes land on your dresser and he’s careful when he stands up to balance himself, tucking his length half back into his pants and wincing at the sensitivity. Jackpot. Jake’s attention is solely focused on your dresser now, wobbling over and trying to pretend that his body isn’t still shaking from his recent orgasm.

He’s in a world of euphoria again, immediately after having gotten off so quickly within the sheets of your bed, and now as he rifles through your panty drawer, his sensitive cock is twitching with embarrassing interest. He laughs at himself and the way he could probably fuck you repeatedly for hours at this point. Never has he been so ready to come again a mere minute and a half after already having done it once. He holds off though, pocketing a few more pairs of your panties before turning his attention to your closet.

There, he notes the fashion you like, the shoes you have hidden probably for nights out, and…oh. 

Sex toys. 

He glares at them for a moment, wondering if you only have these because you’ve yet to realize how badly you’d want him to do it for you. This leads him to believe that you must be desperate for touch, for love, and surely he could make you feel better than a piece of soft rubber, surely you wouldn’t need these if you have him, right? 

He grabs one with a huff and inspects it for use. Upon realizing this has been well loved by you, he removes the batteries and pockets those too, solely because he refuses any competition when it comes to you. Another mental note to find any and every battery in this apartment so that this toy becomes useless to you and your pussy. After all, you’re his now and it’s only a matter of time before you realize it.

He shakes his head in disappointment at his findings before tossing the toy back into the space he found it and turning his attention to your desk. After all, he’s lost all interest in this closet simply for containing items that offer you pleasure. At least at your desk, he might find some deeper information about you.

And God, it’s like you knew he was going to be here. He smiles, his heart swelling at your kindness of leaving your journal right here in the open for him. Inside is a page bookmarked with what he assumes to be junk mail. 

There’s your full name though, glistening in the dark space of his brain that was dying to be filled with information about you. He whispers it to himself, loving the way the tip of his tongue tingles at the act of saying it out loud for the first time. His heart flutters as he runs his fingers along the plastic window of the envelope, repeating your name several times, as if to conjure your spirit up right here, right now, to bask in his post-orgasm glory of love for you.

He’s almost got all of the information he needs with this simple envelope. He knows exactly where you live obviously, your full name, what you like, your favorite scents, and now all he needs is– 

He pauses as his eyes fall to the page marked in your journal, damn. It seems to be your most recent entry, and you really let it all out in these pages. His own ex-therapist suggested he start keeping journals too, but fuck no. That’s too much work for him. He doesn’t like giving himself that type of attention either, but thank god you keep one.

Your self written bible, with all the information in the world about you coming from your own hand, your own brain, is right here in the palm of his hand and it’s not hard for him to decide what to do with it. 

Just like that, an hour passes as he starts from the beginning and works through your thoughts starting from early last year. Right around the time his ex-girlfriend left him, the bitch. 

The deeper into this journal he goes, the more he learns. Intimate things, fucked up things. He almost laughs at your pain, how silly of you to love someone when he was here all along. You had your heart broken, met someone who fixed you, then he destroyed you even more than the first man. Silly you, choosing the wrong people and letting yourself be hurt enough to write about it. 

It’s not until he reads what your recent ex did to you that he starts to really feel something. Anger. So much fucking anger that a man touched you like that. He hurt you like that, then left you feeling torn apart and, as you wrote, “dead inside”. The anger is so strong as he grips your journal and nearly crumples the page. He wants to rip it out, to erase it from your life so you forget it ever even happened. You wouldn’t need to remember all of this if you’d let him in.

But he can’t just rip this page from your life, because you’d notice. These are your deepest secrets, surely you’d be on high alert if something like this were to go missing. So, he opts to read it again, and again, and again, searing it into his memory like a mantra of you and your life. A mantra of why you need him, and why the universe is putting you in front of him. 

Now, the further and further he reads, the pages are filled by this man who hurt you. He can practically smell the tears you shed when writing these shaky words. Detailing each painful touch, each emotion and moment of dissociation that happened to you during that time. There’s something about the way you write your pain that arouses him just as much as everything else you do. 

Perhaps it's the anger of you being taken advantage of in that way, or perhaps it’s because he’s reading each fine detail and wishing he was you, and you were the ex. He wants you to hurt him the way you’ve been hurt, the thought alone is enough to make him fall deeper, and harder in love with you. He wants to feel everything you’ve felt.

In his mind, you’re doing this to him. He wants you to hurt him that way so badly. He wants you to have him broken and crying, with all the power in the world because it’s what you deserve. Because of him, you will forget what happened to you. He will fix you, and you will break him. 

The more he reads, the more he fantasizes. It’s not your pain, it’s his now, except he would never tell you to stop. He’d be begging for more, more, more. In his head, yes, you’re on top of him and gagging him with your fingers so he can’t cry out. You’re the one hitting him and taking him for all he’s worth. You’re the one calling him dirty names and forcing a painful orgasm through his body.

The image in his head right now is so beautiful, and it’s all you. The man no longer exists in his thoughts as he stares down at your words, another flash of a smile crossing his lips as he snakes his hand down his pants for the second time, because this time he can’t resist it. The words appear more like an erotic novel rather than your own painful trauma. He finds it easy when he checks out of reality, each drag of his palm up his cock sending waves of warmth through his body with each new word he reads. 

He likes the way you write “fuck”, he loves the way you write, “I deserved better.” He adores you so much, he wants you to say those things to him. Even if he would never hurt you, he would be more than willing to let you hurt him, to let you be the aggressor, to ruin him and make him bleed. 

His fingers squeeze around his length harder as he feels his legs attempt to buckle. He allows himself to fall to his knees on your floor, gripping the journal like it’s his last life line in this world. 

His eyes shoot across the paper and he’s biting against his bottom lip so hard that he can taste the metallic flavor of blood as he takes in every pen stroke. That taste of blood only becomes more obvious to him when he begins to whine at his own grip against his cock. It’s not enough, and it will never be enough until you’re the one ruining him. He grips tighter, bouncing up on his knees to chase the feeling as he works himself up, only briefly losing the ability to read when he rolls his eyes back at the desperate feeling of needing you here with him to hold onto. His entire body is burning up, pulsing aggressively, and yet, still shivering at the cold and lonely air within your apartment. 

Then his eyes are right back down on your journal, his hips continuing to chase. He’s not alone, you’re here with him, you are surrounding him entirely right now. This is the air you breathe into, and the gasps he takes with the realization are deep and intentional as he swallows up the air in this room until it feels suffocating. 

“Part of me wishes I wanted it, It would have hurt less, I think.” You had written one day last week.

He groans at your boldness, poking his tongue to his cheek with a frustrated moan. 

“At least I left the city. Mom told me to change my number too, but I haven't done that yet. I hope he can never find me again.” 

Jake smiles with a clenched jaw, because that man won’t ever find you again. Not with him by your side. He will protect you, he will make damn sure that any man who wants you can’t have you. 

He edges himself for a bit this time, after having gotten off so quickly before. He wants this one to be drawn out, he wants it to fucking hurt, and it does already. His sensitive length is twitching against the pre-dampened denim it’s being restricted by, his knuckles are red and raw from hitting the zipper of his pants, and the inside of his lip is still bleeding. Finally, he skews his pants down just enough to let his length spring free. 

The suffocating air of your apartment wraps around him so beautifully, and once again he’s shivering and letting out a chuckle. It feels so good. It feels so much better when he’s here and not stuck in his apartment. It feels amazing reading your words of pain, putting himself in your position and wishing so much for you to take this frustration out on him. 

He edges, and edges. Fucking up, then strangling the base of his cock to prevent orgasm. God, it feels so hot, so good that it becomes harder each time he does it. Again and again, until the shadows of your curtains shift in position, until he feels like his head might explode, and that’s when he realizes he has been reading, sometimes the same page over and over again, for hours and at least an hour more fucking himself.

Surely you’ll be getting off from work soon, but he’s so close. He’s so, so, fucking close to you right now and he can’t bare to end it just yet. The images of your past burns in his gut, and despite being in your space, he truly is so far away. He cannot imagine your face up close, and only imagines the silhouette of you, the shape of you that he’s seen so many times before. Every image is from a street away, and still it’s so unfathomably arousing to think you could use him as your diary. You could whisper your painful little thoughts into his mouth and let him swallow them up, let him erase them from your life. 

Take this rage out on him. Hit him. Make him suffer the way you did, he would love that. Giving you such an outlet, and loving it more and more each time. 

He fucks up once, hard, and for the last time he squeezes against his weeping cock so tightly as if to prevent himself from releasing. His body can’t take it anymore though, he loses all control even through his tightened grip at the base of his cock. Still, he manages to focus his eyes down at your journal, placing it directly against the underside of his cock, and there, he lets go. Strings of white shooting out past the journal and onto your carpet, seeping in almost instantly as he lets out a long and choked out moan. Raspy and raw, he can barely recognize his own voice. 

The sweat on his brow drips down as he shakes through the most intense orgasm he thinks he’s ever had, vibrating moans coming out as pained whimpers as he continues to pump himself empty against the pages of your trauma. Then, he pulls your journal up to his lips in a last attempt to show how desperate he is at this moment. He closes it, licking up the spine of the book before dropping it to the floor in exhaustion.

His mind and body has never been so stimulated by another person. Despite you not even being in this room to physically do it for him, he feels as though he’s just professed a profound love for you and you accepted it. He’s left himself all over your space, marking you, marking his territory, swearing to his shaking soul that he will never let another person touch you. 

The only pain you should ever feel again is when your palms sting from swelling his skin before kissing it better. 

As he sits, coming back to himself, still trembling from pleasure and overwhelming adoration, his eyes scan further around your room and note all of the little trinkets of personality you like to show to yourself. 

A list of movies you’ve watched dangles, pinned on a cork board by your tv, and next to that is a list of movies you haven’t gotten to watch yet. On the other side of him is a bookshelf, containing a variety of novels, manga, magazines, cds, and even a few little figurines of characters that must bring you comfort. 

All of these things, the scents you like, the colors you like, the books, movies, shows, music. It burns into his memory the same way you did when he first saw you. 

It doesn’t matter that his body feels weak at this moment, his mind will never be calm when he’s thinking of you. These forms of entertainment are now his favorite things. His fingers struggle to pull out his phone, and struggle more to find his notes app. 

There, he stays for an hour more. Typing and retyping everything he can see, smell, and touch. Every single movie, every single music disk, every single manga, magazine, and book. He will love them as much as he loves you, and he will be the person you seem to need so badly in your life. 

And then, as he glances up to the tiny, bastard of a digital block on his phone, reality sets in. He needs to leave now.

Thankfully enough, you’re right on schedule as usual. He’s crossing the street to his own apartment when he catches the scent of you carried by the wind, and right there, he glances. For the first time seeing you a little closer than usual. 

He doesn’t know if you look happy, sad, or exhausted, all he knows is that you’re truly a feast for his eyes as he stares a few moments too long and you make eye contact with him.

Then….you smile. 

You smile at him, with a small wave as you walk through the building’s doors with not a clue in the world that the kind faced, handsome, stranger you just made eye contact with was worshiping the very air you breathe.

For him, that smile managed to ignite something else in him that he didn’t even know he had. Perhaps a feeling of confirmation? No, maybe it was validation? Either way, the pep in his step is at least an inch higher than it’s ever been as he makes his way up to his home, and finds himself right back at the window. 

He feels satisfied, happy, and maybe even a bit sleepy as he watches you from across the street. Standing where he just stood, disappearing to what he now knows is the bathroom. 

With all the new information, surely it won’t be the last or only time he’ll be in that room with or without you. Now, he can meet you as the best version of himself. The best version of the person you would love. 

Perhaps now, he can accidentally run into you enough times that you’ll have no choice but to face an introduction, and right then and there, he will be the perfect man for you. You’ll invite him in, you’ll share all of those secrets with him, and you will love him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Buying a camera was easy, and setting it up against his window so that he never had to risk missing a single second with you was even easier. Especially because now he had studying to do. 

Movies, shows, music, books, all of it. He delved in for days, living the lives of other people through the media you seemed to love so much. Through all of it, he paid most attention to the romantic aspect of each bit of entertainment you seem to enjoy the most in your free time. 

He learns how these men kiss their significant others, he studies how they look at each other and express their emotions. In the music, he listens and anticipates that he can make you feel better than these songs do. In the books, even the horror related ones, he focuses on the emotional aspect and forces himself to learn these expressions. 

Love and hate aren’t the only two emotions he should be feeling, but they are for the most part. Save for things like jealousy, arousal, and entitlement. He needs to learn sympathy. Empathy, passion, contentedness, melancholy. There is a vast array of emotions he needs to master, and he can’t help but feel like that’ll just take far too long. 

As he is, he loves you. As you are, he loves you. You should love him the same, and you will love him the same. After all, he already loves the same movies, books, and music. What else could you possibly ask for from him, outside of a burning loyalty driven by passion? Outside of never laying a hand on you, nor letting another person within ten feet of you if you so much as blink at him lovingly?

It’s as if weeks passed when he started watching you through the recorded footage. Really though, it’s only been a week because he can still smell the scent of you on those dainty little panties each time he wraps them around his sore cock. They satisfy him plenty when he uses your other, cleaner garments that he took from your dresser against his lips. 

Each night since he was in your apartment, he’s fucked into these panties, remembering the taste of your shower water and toothpaste, and each night he grows more and more weary of when he can have more.

Still, these panties are getting him through this difficult period of down time, the anticipation that soon enough, you’ll smile at him again is enough to not jump for the opportunity to get back into your apartment just yet. Because soon, you’ll probably invite him in next time too, maybe even let him taste you rather than a simple remnant of you. 

Even your social media drives him to learn quicker. It’s private, of course, and all he has to go off of is that pixelated image of you, your interests, the burning images of your trauma, your name, age, address, and used panties. Sure, he’s satisfied for the time being but he knows for a fact that this “content” feeling will only continue to fade away and be replaced with the intense need to just fucking meet you. 

He knows you’re hiding from someone, and that someone just so happens to not be him. So, he’s the one man in the world you could ever hope to meet anyway. A protector, a lover, a fierce defender and an outlet for all of your pain. 

And oh, what great news is it that just a mere two days later that content feeling does, indeed, run out! Not only does he feel well equipped to be your forever soulmate, but when he looks at himself in the mirror, still fond of now trimming and taking care of himself, he’s gotta say that he plays the part well on both fronts. 

It’s another Saturday afternoon, this time he takes the time to sit by the window and watch the shadow of you through that closed bedroom curtain. He wonders how often you wash your sheets, or clean your carpet, or lose your batteries to your stupid fucking sex toys. 

Surely the remnants of him are still there, surely you’re used to his scent by now. You won’t be afraid when he steps out around the same time you do. You definitely won’t think it’s strange that he just so happens to be grocery shopping too, or that he’s needing the same ingredients you are needing. Maybe you’ll like it when he brushes his hand against yours when going for the same tomato. 

He’s confident, and he’s ready. That’s for sure. 

What he wasn’t ready for though, is how outgoing you are. 

Naturally, he smells you before he sees you. Hyper aware that every person on the street that isn’t you just ends up invisible to him anyway. He doesn’t intentionally walk into you, acting as if he’s going the opposite way. Except he does. 

The first touch of your body to his is nothing but a mere “accident”. The soft padding of your jacket collides with his hoodie, and still he swears he could feel the blood pumping through your veins at that moment. His entire body erupts in goosebumps at the first touch, he sighs out at the intentional mishap, not yet making eye contact with you. 

He falls back only slightly, raising his hands in defense and mock apology. Right there on the street, not even a block from the two buildings both of you call home. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even–” He goes to say, mind blanking the moment he does look at you, and you look back at him.

You’re right there. He can feel your energy hit him in the chest, as if that little collision was nothing less than a car hitting him at full speed. His breath is caught in his throat as he takes in your image up close for the first time. 

You look….frail. Not like a sickly-frail, but the kind of frail that only comes with emotional baggage. You look sleepy, with your cold cheeks and watering eyes from the icy wind hitting them. So badly does he want to grip you and pull you into his chest. He wants to hold you, he wants to keep you warm, he wants to kiss those shivering lips and hold those shaking hands. 

You’re a mere foot away from him and his heart is already exploding. Standing in awe, oblivious to the fact that he has lost his ability to control the situation upon looking at you, because now all he can think about is giving you everything in the world.

Then, you glance away from him and speak. 

“No, no.” You look to the ground after that brief eye contact and seem to shy away from the interaction. “I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone.” You continue to stare at the ground, gripping your bag close to you out of instinct rather than fear or anxiety. 

“Likewise.” Jake smiles, trying to refrain composure and softening his voice. Still, he burns the image of you into his corneas and memorizes the pitch of your voice. “Hey…” He adds, trailing off a bit and dipping his head to draw your eyes up to him in a friendly way. 

“I think I’ve seen you before, do you live around here?” 

You pause. He’s just a friendly stranger with a tender voice but the brief glimpse you had of him did seem familiar. 

“You seem kind of familiar too?” You question, easing your tense body and looking up at him with another smile, this time more awkward. Mostly because you definitely avoided his question. 

“Huh, small world.” He shrugs, offering little to no context to that statement before shifting the balance on his feet and stiffening at the harsh wind that picks up.

This is the moment in which any normal person would say their goodbyes, last apologies, and be on their way. Jake is too in love to comprehend what normal people would do though. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I forgot my wallet at home and was running back to grab it before the market gets packed with college kids trying to buy all of their weekend alcohol. I really didn’t mean to run into you like that.” 

God, he feels like a robot saying it. He did mean to run into you, and he didn’t forget his wallet. 

“Oh! I’m actually on my way to the store.” You admit, trying to appreciate his explanation and press the idea of forgiving and forgetting. “So you live close by then?” You add, feeling better asking him where he lives rather than stating your own place of residence. 

“Yeah, I live over there.” He points at the building across from yours, silently taking a step closer. 

The chill in the air is harsh, but the way you don’t move back from him is much softer and easier to swallow as a man on a mission. 

When you perk up at recognizing his apartment building, it’s very telling. Well, to him it is, but to anyone else he could assume they wouldn’t have picked up on that slight blink of surprise he caught. 

“Huh,” You state casually. “Well, I’m going to go pick up some groceries too. I walk this same way back, do you want me to spot you on your groceries as my own apology for not paying attention?”

Partially, you do this because you want to be alone, and upon meeting this man who is running the same errand as you, you think you may feel too awkward to go through your daily plan running into him again. Plus, he lives right across from you, and you find yourself not wanting him to know where you live. 

To him though, outgoing may be an understatement. You’re offering to not only shop for him, but to drop it off at the desk? You’re inviting yourself into his space?! 

“Don’t be silly, I’ll just run and grab my wallet and I’ll be right back out. I can help you carry your things. It’s not safe for a lady to be walking alone on a Saturday anyway.” He assures you, stiffening up his shoulders in the wind and smiling at you.

You don’t know how to reject his offer, as awkward as it is, and somehow as comforting as it is. Solely because he just confirmed your silent anxieties about being in this city alone. You do this walk to the market every weekend, and despite you slowly becoming accustomed to the area, you never truly feel safe doing it alone. 

Should you reject the offer and go back home? You have enough snacks to last you the night and you can just go to the market tomorrow. And even with those thoughts in your head, you wonder why you nod to him, and you wonder why you step back toward the building behind you and lean against it as if you’ll wait for him. 

You shiver at the wind as he nods to you and jogs to the very same building he pointed out before disappearing inside of it, and all you can do is internally panic at how pathetic you are. You should not be inviting this random man to walk with you, or to carry your things for you. He’s going to know where you live. What if your ex set this up? You wouldn’t put it past him for a second.

Then you think a little deeper…perhaps you’re comforted by this man’s calm and somewhat genuine kindness. You’re not amazing at reading people, clearly, but he seems to be kind. Still, you’re too afraid to tell another person “no” these days out of fear that they will be angry.

 You’re now hyper aware of your surroundings, wondering if the threat looms elsewhere, or if you just invited the threat to walk you to the supermarket. 

You have no choice but to take the chance though, with the way he mentioned that you shouldn’t be walking alone on a weekend. You’d be paranoid with or without a stranger escorting you, especially after returning home from work last week and swearing your apartment felt different. Your anxiety regarding your ex is at an all time high. 

Should you even want to reject this small situation of possible safety? It’s still known, to you at least, that your ex hasn’t been able to find you, nor has he texted or called you since your first week of living in this city. 

Finally, you decide to just try and relax. If you show your fear, perhaps this man will turn on a dime and take advantage like everyone tends to do with you. Even if you don’t remember leaving your apartment door unlocked last week, even if you don’t remember misplacing your batteries for a particular item in your closet.

You can’t just assume every new, kind, and handsome face is working with your ex. You can’t just let your fear continue to control your life. 

At least with this new face, and the security in your building being well aware of your safety concerns, you nor your personal space could be violated inside of your own home at the very least. 

Outside though? On the streets with dozens of others? The risk is high, and you aren’t even sure if you have the capability to run fast enough or react fast enough with the little safety keychain you keep in your hand, buried in your puffy jacket pocket. 

By this point, you’re more afraid to walk alone than you are to walk with this nameless man. Saying no to him would only result in another evening walk full of paranoia, then again, walking with him still brings a whole different type of paranoia. That is, until he comes running back up to you with that same warm smile, hands tucked into his hoodie, and the promise of some sort of protection at least for this grocery run. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So,” Jake starts after several long minutes of walking with you in silence. “Do you always walk alone at night?”

You nod to him quietly, about to say something before he sighs and shakes his head.

“That’s brave. You must be new to this side of town because it’s not exactly the safest for you to just be wandering around by yourself.” 

It’s obvious to Jake that this is only a half truth, but he knows what you’re running from by being here and he can’t help but ensure future endeavors with you, even if just to have you need him each time you leave your apartment. He would gladly walk you to the moon and back if you so much as considered it an option. 

“Oh, really?” You respond with slight distress. “I moved here because of the safety ratings. I wasn’t aware that it was an actual concern outside of me just worrying too much.” 

He picks up on it. 

“Every city is dangerous if you think about it. You know where my building is if you need it though. Just let me know if you ever need someone to usher you back and forth.”

You scoff almost, laughing at the implication that you’d consider that an option. 

“Please, that would be so inconvenient and inconsiderate for me to do. Besides, I have this nifty little keychain!” You smile, trying to make light of the situation and the anxiety his words of your bravery are bringing to you. 

“That is pretty nifty,” He laughs, eyeing your keychain and watching you put it back into your pocket. “Can’t imagine that keychain would stop anyone though.” He adds with a light and casual tone, only because he knows that the keychain couldn’t stop him. “Plus, it’s not inconsiderate. I’m much more effective than that keychain of yours.”

There is a deep fear instilled in you at his words, ones that make you curl in on yourself internally. Maybe you really couldn’t protect yourself without someone next to you. You slow your pace for a moment and consider his words. Pepper spray, a seatbelt cutter, taser, and a pair of pointy claws won’t do a damn thing for you if you end up frozen on the spot at a threat. Which is something you know yourself to do when danger rises. Perhaps this stranger is right about that, and if he’s offering, maybe it won’t be so embarrassing to actually follow up on that, especially if he proves to simply be a kind and concerned neighbor. 

Then again, maybe he’s just being nice and doesn’t want you to genuinely expect that from him. 

“Can I know the name of the person willing to escort me to and fro?” You try to play it off as a joke with a sweet and calm tone to your voice, thankful that you’ve become an expert at hiding your fear by now, but he stutters in response. Stopping in his tracks and deadpan staring at you.

“Oh my god, how rude of me.” The same smile, the same soft voice, and now– and extended hand to you. “I’m Jake, and I fully expect you to require my assistance at any time, any day, when you feel it may not be safe for you to be out here alone.” 

“What the fuck?” You comment without full intent, reaching for his hand and gripping it in yours. 

It’s…delightfully warm. 

“Hm?” He perks up a brow. “What was that?”

“It’s like you can read my mind or something.” You laugh, now releasing his hand and feeling far more comfortable walking with him, and possibly accepting his offer. 

“I’ve been told that before, you know.” 

Good fucking lord, the feeling of you gripping his hand was something that could have sent him straight to an asylum. Cold hands, warm smile, a reluctant tone in your voice– he sees you size him up, and god, fuck, did he see you just accept him for all that he is at this moment. He broke past your first wall, he could see it in your eyes when they flickered for just a moment. 

“I bet you have.” You confirm for him, now giving him your name and looking up at him. The dim streetlights and remnants of the setting sun sure do put this moment on a pedestal in your head for some reason. 

Your first friend in this city. Surprisingly it’s a man, and even more surprisingly, he seems to be entirely in tune with every single anxiety you have about life right now without even fucking knowing it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The immediate night after you willingly led a kind stranger to the front of your apartment building, seemingly right across the street from his own, was the moment you realized that for the first time in years, you really did feel safe. 

Jake, this new person who appeared out of thin air walking right into you and somehow, into your life as well, is safe. With the well-bleached hair peeking from his hoodie, tired eyes, and the blushed cold air on his face doing nothing more than highlighting his features, you didn’t want to admit the immediate attraction to him.

In fact, those feelings of instant attraction are what got you into that mess with your ex. It’s what you’re running from now, and what you were intending to avoid. It’s in your nature to want to be around an attractive person, sure, but is it so strange to lean in so quickly when said attractive person lives across the street and offers you convenient means to feel even safer? You’re not jumping into an immediate relationship or anything by feeling safe around him. You don’t know him well enough, but for some reason, all you need to know to satisfy you is that he’s not out to take from you. He didn’t seem to need or want more, even in those long moments of silence standing beside him in the supermarket.

If anything, Jake, himself, is a new safety measure you intend to use for yourself, even as a last resort. Not because his smile is charming, or his voice is soft. Definitely not because his fashion sense seems to be well thought out, and his clothes hang against his body as if he had a real life filter consistently maintaining that every angle of his face and body remains perfect. 

It’s because he offered it. Point. Blank. Period. You, unfortunately, are not in any position to deny that it’s what you need either. You know for a fact that your ex is still asking around for you and trying to figure out where you live. Not to get back together, but just to let you know that he’s around, and he always will be for as long as you live. 

So, Naturally, the days leading up to running into this man was a whirlwind of paranoia for you. Nothing that even your heavy doses of medication could calm, yet, he managed to do it on that simple fifteen minute walk to the grocery store, and that somehow quicker fifteen minute walk back home.

That happy shocked sigh he let out at learning you live right across from him, was weirdly comforting too. As if he was just as relieved as you were that he knew he could at least keep an eye on you if you needed him to. Like he would be willing to call you at three in the morning if he so much as saw suspicious activity outside of your building. Plus, you were debating at the time lying to him about where you live just to comfort yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t.

It caught your attention, and you find yourself longingly looking out of your window today, scanning the building across from you and wondering which one of those rooms would be the most safe for you. Your mother’s voice muffled through your phone as your eyes wander, and a smile forms at her words.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be putting your trust into a complete stranger? Honey, I don’t want to watch–”

“I know, Mom. Really, it’s not like that. I barely know the guy but don’t you think it’s a good thing that I have a neighbor now? One that’s willing to walk with me so I’m not alone out here?”

There’s silence on your mother’s end for a few moments before she sighs. 

“It does make me feel at ease, I admit,” She starts, sounding as if she’s going to cry. “I just want you to be careful. And– I want you to tell me things if anything were to happen. I don’t want you to keep anything from me anymore.” 

You sigh now, more in a defeated and sad way as your eyes trail down to the door of Jake’s building and notice him stepping out and heading down the street. 

“I won’t hide anything anymore. The last thing I want is to go through that again, but I’m healing. Really, every day feels a little better, a little safer.” You back up from your window and smile again, grabbing your coat and slipping on your shoes. “I gotta go though. I love you, Mom.” 

You don’t hang up until you hear her say it back, and then you’re out the door to catch up to him. Unsure of why you’re doing it, and ultimately choosing to ignore the fact that you were staring at his building. 

Jake, on the other hand, has been reeling for days. Though, more careful now when he watches you. He even moved his camera slightly, hiding it better since he’s caught you staring out the window at his building multiple times.

It’s confirmation that, at the very least, you think about him. 

“Hey!” 

At first, he thought that voice was his imagination like always. He ignores it, relishing in how well he managed to remember that little rasp you have sometimes when the wind blows like this. Given, he’s only walked with you once to and from the grocery store, the weather was much the same, and your voice cracked a few times in your words to him. 

“Jake, Wait up!” 

He hears it closer now, followed by the sound of foot steps and….fuck. It’s you. You’re really running after him as he makes his way to the local mall, all to buy the next book on his list from your bedroom. 

“Hey?!” He turns to you, unable to control his glee at the turn of events. 

For once, after all this time of him watching you, you’re approaching him without prompting and it only took one official meeting. 

So naive. You do need protection. 

“What’re you doing here looking so warm?” Jake adds, outstretching his arms and watching you pause at the invitation for a hug. “Too soon?” He lets his arms fall before stuffing his hands back in his pocket. 

You panic only for a moment, realizing you definitely need an excuse to be chasing him down like this solely because you crave that short instance of safety he offered you once before. Sadly, you have no excuse. You had nowhere to be today, nor any plans to leave your apartment at all and yet, here you are, avoiding his hug and yet still wanting to stand in front of him.

“Oh,” You instantly come up with a lie. “I was running out to the market again because I forgot to buy something.” 

Jake perks up even more at the idea that he could walk you to and from the market, and possibly even offer that you come with him to the mall. Maybe this is the perfect time to bring up the book you’ve already read, that he, apparently, so desperately wants to read too.

“What did you forget?” He asks playfully, noting in his head that maybe you’re a forgetful person. Which is kind of cute. 

“Uh–” You pause, breaking eye contact and blurting out a random item. “Milk.”

Well, that was a lie and he definitely knows it. He carried that jug of milk that was not forgotten back to your apartment for you. In fact, he hadn’t worked out his arms in a while due to his focus on his abs and stomach that he even felt a little sore due to how long he was carrying it, all while the wind was freezing his fingers to ice for you. 

“Ah, should we go grab you some milk then?”

You don’t think twice before you nod, sighing in relief that the lie was taken at face value and not realizing for a moment that you just impeded on whatever plan he had prior to you interrupting him. 

“Okay, can we stop somewhere else first? If you want?” He eases into the question, studying your expression and loving every moment of it. Craving to be close to you, even just to stare. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I can always just grab milk on my way home and drop it.”

Oh, you were being rude. Only now realizing how you eagerly transformed his errand into your errand. 

“My god, I’m sorry. You’re clearly busy today, it’s okay. I can grab milk later!” You say in a rushed huff, already backing away and trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment. 

You really do cling. Your ex was right about that, and it makes you uncomfortable.

“Wait, no!” He panics, fumbling in a step toward you to close the distance again, feeling far too uncomfortable with how you step away from him. “I’m just headed to the mall real quick to grab a book I’ve been wanting to read. Just a quick in and out, then we can grab your milk. I’ve been wanting to see you again anyway!” 

Jake thinks that may have been too forward for any normal person to say outright, but it’s true. He so desperately wanted to see you again. Up close. He needed to see you again. 

You pause your step, turning back to face him and unintentionally scanning his outfit that day. He’s somehow even more handsome than he was the night you met him, nose slightly red from the cold weather and shoulders stiffened as if he’s trying to hide from the open wind. 

He takes intense note of the way your eyes scan him, and there is an unintentional twitch in his pants at the way you don’t grimace at him. He knew you wouldn’t, after all, he does all of this for you. He’s clean shaved and dressing better because of you. 

“Book? What book?” You ask delightfully, being an avid reader yourself. Of course you’re interested in connecting on a level that isn’t just safety with him. 

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it but it’s called ‘[redacted]’.” He side eyes only slightly at the anticipated response from you. It was…a bit different than he expected.

You laugh at him. Genuinely, you’re laughing at him, with a snort and all. A laugh that he would argue is cute if it weren’t for the fact that he feels like this could be the first time he fucks up with you. He doesn’t want you to laugh at him for reading this book. He wants you to love that he wants to read it. Its one you wrote on your list, why are you laughing?

“Wait, you’re serious?” You deadpan, standing stiff and shocked. “Even I wouldn’t admit to having already read that very book…” Your eyes trail off before you smile. 

You sense that he’s gone rigid not from the weather, but from your mocking and you lighten up instantly. 

“I just didn’t expect to meet such a handsome guy who reads about a woman who…well, you know.” 

It’s like you could do no wrong as Jake’s eyes tune into yours and you see a sense of sparkle in them. You’d never understand how that simple, off-hand compliment to him is making his heart spiral up, down, and all over behind his ribcage. 

Physically, he can feel his body react to you addressing him as handsome. As if he doesn’t react the same way any time you look at him, or speak to him, or come near him at all. You think he’s handsome. You just admitted it, and he can’t help but already feel high, like he’s on top of the world over it. You must like to look at him, much like how he loves to watch you.

Still, he knows he needs to play it cool despite how in love with you he is right now. You’re the one who seems eager, which means he’s done his part for now, and your chase for him is just beginning. If he comments on your compliment, you’d think of him as too eager. Too ready. As if he had some underlying reason to continue speaking with you. 

Plus, Jake actually has no idea what the book is about, but he was very willing to find out today when he got home. You, however, seem to be keen on discussing it.

“Know what? I only want to read it because it was recommended to me by someone.” He lies.

Your face falters. 

“Oh, was this someone a girl?” You don’t look up, nor do you realize that the two of you have started walking toward the mall regardless of the insecure conversation at hand. 

“Ah, well, maybe.” Jake chuckles. 

He’s in love with you, he’s so in love with that disappointed sound in your voice when you asked him that. He could even, perhaps, sense a bit of jealousy. So soon too? Already? He knew he was right, he was made for you and he couldn’t be happier knowing that you’re picking up on it. 

“A girlfriend?” You pry unintentionally, noting how that book is generally geared toward a female audience who would only ever read a few passages to a man if they were, well, into that sort of dynamic. 

“Why do you ask?” Jake encourages you to boost his ego even more, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

“The book is about a woman who kind of, kills men and eats them, among…other things.”

Oh, wow. He loves you so much right now, even if you spoiled the story for him. 

“Interesting. What makes you think my girlfriend would ask me to read that?” 

“It certainly wouldn’t be a brother or best dude friend recommending it to you, let’s be real.” 

Jake raises his hands in mock defense, ready to see if this makes you like him even more.

“Alright, I’ll admit. I knew what it was about–” He’s lying. “No one actually recommended it to me, I just didn’t expect you to have already read the book, nor did I expect to have to explain myself why I want to read it.” 

“Explain away, Jakey, we got a bit of a walk ahead.”

A nickname?! Already? You're entirely naive and in need of him being beside you. God, what would have happened if some other cunning liar appeared to walk into you and offer to escort you back and forth? You would have swooned the same fucking way! Anyone with eyes can see that you’re flirting, and anyone with a dick can see that he’s eating it up faster than you’re able to put it out for him. 

Regardless of if you seem too quick to trust, he’s proud that it’s him who got to you first, because now no one else will ever get the chance to even consider it. 

“Oh, I’ve got a nickname now? That must mean you like me.” He offers you a sort of drunken dopey smile, only because he feels drunk. Like a lost puppy just invited into a warm and caring pair of arms, really. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re the one going to fulfill your fantasies about–” You try to joke as if he’s one of your best friends from highschool. You remember when you were able to freely have a sense of humor, but before you can finish your joke, you pause, realizing that despite mocking the book and his interest in it, you still don’t know him on a level to do this. Nor should you have given him a nickname so soon. God, how stupid could you be? “Nevermind, I actually have the book if you want to borrow it.” 

You have issues getting too close, too fast. You’re already clinging, watching his building without full intention, and chasing after him down the street simply to speak to him. You don’t know where this feeling inside of you comes from but you can argue that it’s solely due to the comfort he brings to you. You don’t know anyone else in this fucking city save for a few co-workers. When you moved here, you promised that you’d keep to yourself until you heal and feel safe on your own again.

Yet, here you are. Clinging to the handsome man who lives across the street. Clinging to a fucking man. Again.

And you know, even though the two of you are already halfway to the mall by now, he doesn’t mind that you didn’t bring up borrowing the book until now. He was prepared to buy it, and even more prepared to see where your eye wandered just to learn about more of your interests within the rows of books.

“Really?” He smiles and tilts his head at you, turning both of you around with a gentle touch to your arm, very nearly wanting to snake his hand into your pocket and hold your fingers against his. “That’s great, let’s go get you some milk then!” 

And you know, when he waited in the lobby of your apartment, you almost invited him upstairs to your actual space. You didn’t though. And when you handed him the book, and he handed you that milk, only then did you realize that one of the jugs of milk in your possession will have to spoil…and it sure as fuck won’t be the one he just handed to you.

Why? Because you create silly little attachments to the rare moments in your life when you’re happy. This jug of milk is a representation of a lie he accepted, as well as him accepting you and your silly ways of making it through the day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The panties. 

The scent is dull as he reads and rereads passages of a book that many would consider improper for anyone to even write, let alone publish. Every victim is him, and everyone, everything else is you. 

It’s hard not to be aroused when you so readily invited yourself to be around him that day. Even now having your number, the self control he needs to not frantically text you that he’s in love with you is eating him from the inside out. 

The panties. Still offering the most private part of you but no longer being enough. The camera, offering glimpses of your alone time within a space you don’t quite realize has been shared with him. The taste of your shower wall, your toothbrush, the smell of your clothes, the softness of your sheets, and the trauma within your written words— none of it is enough anymore.

And now, the book, offering plenty to the imagination, turning the pages as if he were playing with your skin, still not enough to satiate him any longer. Nothing could ever satiate the need within him to love you to his full extent or to have you love him back. Especially after having already met you, after feeling your hand against his in that brief handshake, after hearing your sweet voice say words for him to hear and him alone. 

Has he not waited long enough for more? He’s seen you up close and personal, he knows all of your interests that you display, he knows your voice, knows your footsteps— still, he can’t get the feeling out of his mind. What it felt like to stand in the spot within your apartment that ultimately led to his even deeper love for you. His confirmation that he loves you, even.

And now? Texting is easy when he feels this desperate to get to you again. He doesn’t care to be overwhelming to you because he is overwhelmed. You’re the one who approached him last time too, so if anything, the universe is on his side and he fucking knows it. He can feel it in the air with each little breeze that flows past that little crack in his window. He can smell your shampoo with each cold gust of wintery air, and see your reflection in each little snowflake that falls. 

He wants you to chase him again, so bad. Only so that he knows he can chase you harder now.

Jake: hey so i read the book, are you free today?

The way you immediately respond is telling.

You: what did you think? insane story, right?

Jake: not sure if you wanna have this conversation over text…

You: it’s ok, i figured you had some freaky fantasies if you wanted to read that, im not gonna blackmail you or anything

Jake smiles, he’d let you blackmail him any day of the week.

Jake: hmmm what does that say about you then?

You: anyway, im a bit busy today but maybe we can catch up tomorrow? 

No, no no. Tomorrow is centuries away. He knows you’re home, he can fucking see you over there, he can smell you, he can sense you. Not to mention, he’s not an idiot, he can see the way you avoid certain conversations and steer the direction despite making the same joke yourself. 

Silly, silly girl, thinking he can’t read you. If anything, he’d think by now that if you’re really so afraid of the world, or him, or anyone else, you’d have closed those fucking blinds by now. You haven’t though, have you? 

Maybe you know people watch you. Maybe you love it, hoping that he’s the one doing it. Maybe you’re some sort of exhibitionist. Maybe that’s the reason you read that fucking book. Maybe that’s why you were trapped in your relationship before.

There has to be a reason for it at the end of the day, and he hopes that it’s him. You love his jokes, and your avoidance is only further proof that he’s breaking past your little sad and pathetically thin walls. You’d probably love to know he watches you, that he protects you even when you don’t think he’s around. 

And yet, you’re busy today? 

Guess he will be busy too, then, as he stands to his feet and begins to dress himself while texting you.

Jake: Oh, you’re busy? That sucks, i guess i’ll find somethin else to do today then

You: I know :( ill make it up to you soon, promise! 

The buzzing in his brain and need for you is too strong to stay away. That little promise means the world to him, especially because you’ll be making it up to him sooner than you anticipate. You can be busy all you want, but that’s not to say he can’t accidentally end up at the same place as you, right?

Besides, what if your ex comes around? What if some guy gives you unwanted attention and there’s no one there to defend you? After all, his body reacts with euphoria each time he has gotten the chance to be with you, and he craves that feeling once again. You’re going to give it to him, not anyone else.

Jake: alright, be safe today...

You: always am! 

Jake: text me when you make it home safe

You freeze as you read his words, feeling something in your stomach flip. You can’t tell if it’s butterflies or anxiety. Still, you find yourself smiling and your face feeling a bit fuzzy.

He wants you to be safe. That’s more than you could ever ask from someone, because god knows you’ve always managed to find yourself in the most unsafe situations with very little effort. 

You: ok!!! ill text you when i get home so you know I didn’t get run over or something

Jake: it’s more just to make sure someone doesnt kidnap and take advantage of you lol

You freeze again, this time fully aware of the anxiety in your belly. 

Jake: pretty girls like you gotta be more careful, so don’t stay out too late or ill worry

For a second, you almost wanted to cancel your plans. For just a second, you felt good today. You felt safer than usual. 

You: i’ll come home before sundown….thanks

Jake smiles, hoping you recognize the risk you put yourself in each time you leave your apartment without him beside you. Thankfully though, you will never be without him again if he can stand it. 

Besides, you suck at safety. Following you around is far too easy, and popping up when you least expect it is even easier. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Spotted you. 

There you are, with that same puffy jacket he’s grown used to seeing you in considering he only ever really gets to see you outside and on a cold day. In that puffy jacket, you’re walking into a local coffee shop and his eyes sharpen at the image of you through the window. 

The barista takes your order with too much interest, in his opinion. He can see you not take notice on how everyone in this city wants to take you from him. He wants you to notice so bad, he wants you to only want his eyes on you, and to only want his voice in your ear. 

He breathes in the icy air, bottom lip shivering only a little bit at the idea that other people look at you the same way he does, even more so the fact that you might be here to meet someone that isn’t him. You might have friends, and he knows better than anyone that you do not need friends. They’re always out to get you anyway, you should be here with him, not someone else. 

He breathes a sigh of relief followed by a heavy shiver when he sees you take a seat alone, and he dips away slightly when you glance out of the window as if you’re trying to be aware of your surroundings. 

With him around, you don’t need to pay attention to the things around you, he’s hyper aware for you. He could tell your coffee was finished before your name was even called to alert you. 

Honestly, he’s so hyper aware of each person who walks into that coffee shop after you. He sets themself up for failure in his head. Each person gets a stare of daggers, because what if they’re here to meet you? What if you’re trying to make friends? What if you’re trying to date? After all, this little errand must be important to you considering you told him you were too busy to see him.

His eyes continue to fall back on the barista though, staring at the line of sight this man offers to you every few moments. As if he wants to catch you looking at him too, as if he wants you to give him a reason to talk to you, as if he is a better option than Jake himself could be. 

There is a hate within him at this moment as he seethes outside of the cafe window, staring down his competition. He almost completely forgot to look at you until he felt a rush of air push past him and he notes two people walking into the cafe now. 

As he comes back to reality and leaves his little realm of hate for the handsome barista at the counter, his worst nightmares are confirmed. Not only a woman walks in and takes a seat at your table, but a man too. You hug them. You hug him.

Why is everyone all over his girl today? His heart drops. His quivering bottom lip intensifies with the wind, the temperature mimicking the feeling in his heart as he watches you touch other people, and spend time with them. He really, really, needs to know who these people are and why they’re close enough to hug you like that. 

He pats his chest through his hoodie with a breath in an attempt to rid himself of the stress weighing on him, and then straightens out his back before taking one last deep breath and making his way inside of the cafe, straight up to the counter.

There, he tries to balance his breathing as he makes eye contact with the very same barista that keeps pushing dangerously close to a boundary line. His name tag states the name “Jay”, and Jake can’t help but grimace and roll his eyes at how similar their names are. 

He grimaces more at hearing the man speak to him, as if he has all the right in the world to exist on the other side of that counter after staring at you the way he did. 

“Sir? Can I–” The barista repeats himself for a third time, feeling small under the gaze of the customer in front of him. 

“Just a shot of espresso.” Jake dead-pans, still glaring at the man. 

The barista nods awkwardly, shifting his eyes to you on instinct now that he’s done it probably a million times since you’ve walked in. He’s noticed you for weeks, he can’t help it. 

Jake, on the other hand lets out a deep and angry sigh from his nose as he tosses his card onto the counter, clearing his throat at the barista. 

“You seem to have an eye for girls.” Jake lightens up, holding up the short line of one person behind him. 

“Oh–” The barista laughs shyly, “am I that obvious?” he adds, dipping his head down as he slides the card through the machine and turns the screen back to his customer. 

“Unfortunately.” Jake narrows his eyes at him, intentionally and violently clicking the number 0 for this asshole’s tip. “and I’d suggest you contain yourself, because that’s my girlfriend you’re drooling over.” 

And then he walks away, ignoring the way the presumed “Jay” looks at him in embarrassment. He can tell he wants to apologize, and rightfully so. Jake does deserve an apology for how shameless this idiot was, but he doesn’t let him as he makes his way down the counter leans against it with his palms, facing away from you and pretending he can’t sense your warmth from here. 

And then he starts counting in his head. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…..Thirteen….Twenty si-

“Jake?” 

His heart immediately swells at the way you’d recognize him anywhere, even if he’s facing away from you and he makes sure to make eye contact with the barista when they both perk up at your voice calling out a name. He watches the confirmation in Jay’s eyes click, the confirmation that he is never to look at you again. 

And still, Jake’s heart swells even more in this instance because he could recognize you too, even if you’re faced away from him. Still, he has to keep his cool. One, to make sure he doesn’t appear too eager to see you, as if he definitely followed you here. Two, so the barista doesn’t see his lie. And three, so he doesn’t snap right here, right now over the fact that you hugged someone that isn’t him. Two someones that aren’t him.

 He doesn’t want to interrogate you so immediately, he wants you to give him the answers yourself as to who these people are. 

He pretends to not hear you as he stands facing away from you and grabbing his espresso from the barista who avoids eye contact.

Jake gives a small and fake nod to the barista, as if to show you that he didn’t say anything out of pocket to him. As if to show you that he definitely didn’t just claim you as his girlfriend so the freak behind the counter doesn’t try anything with you.

Then he turns to eye the room, looking for an empty seat, avoiding the corner where you’re blatantly staring at him.

“Jake!” You wave your hands to get his attention, standing up half way as if to stand out from the crowd of puffy jackets and warmed cheeks. 

His eyes land on you, where they rightfully belong and he notes the smile on your face upon seeing him.

Oh, so you did want to see him today. You didn’t smile like that at the barista, or to the people in front of you. There’s another confirmation within him in reaction to this, that soon enough, what he said to the barista won’t be a lie. In fact, it gives him the confidence to push for it now more than ever. 

He raises a brow in mock-surprise to see you before shooting you a half wave, moving his eyes to other areas as if to imply he doesn’t want to intrude. As if to say he isn’t here with you intentionally. 

And then you wave again, raising your voice a bit and saying his name yet again. His eyes land back on you, and the way you pat the seat next to you.

Perfect. Yes, invite him. Prove to everyone who you belong to. Prove who it is you want to see right now, who you want to sit by, who you want to look at. And then, tell him who the fuck these people are. Explain why you hugged them, and why they’re somehow more important than he is.

As he heads over, bowing politely to the man and woman sitting across from you, he seats himself next you to closely. So close that he can feel the friction of your jacket against his hoodie, and immediately his skin is raised in goosebumps as he looks at you and your bright eyes. 

He wants to lay claim to you so badly. He wants everyone to know that you are his, and he is yours. 

“Such a huge city and still we manage to run into each other–” Jake chuckles playfully, looking at you with a soft and gentle smile before glancing at these strangers across from him. “If we keep meeting like this I might just have to ask you on a date.” 

He says it like it’s final, like he’s laying that claim he wants so badly. As he says it, he looks the man that you’re with dead in the eye with exuding charm and confidence. Still, the way you shift awkwardly next to him doesn’t go unnoticed as he turns back to you and takes a sip of his drink. 

“Would that be something you’d be interested in?” He whispers gleefully to you, saying it as if it’s a joke because the people across from him lend you both a smile and a laugh at his blatant and forward words. 

“Jake, this is my mom.” You finally speak out to avoid his question, watching him attach his lips to the hot cup of espresso he ordered, as if to only breathe in the warmth of it. “And this is my uncle.”

Jake immediately stands and bows politely. He appears panicked, embarrassed, to everyone else in the room. He’s not though. Not at all. He is relieved to know that now is his chance to make some sort of impression, now is when he should show his best side. All worry of who these people in front of you are is thrown out the window for the time being, actually. He feels like he’s on top of the world, killing two birds with one stone almost. Or three, if you count Jay. 

If he can get your family to like him the same way he got you to like him, maybe you’d be more inclined to circle back around to his half-joke of taking you on a date. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stutters, not looking the two in the eyes. “I must have sounded so rude just now, I didn’t mean to intrude–” He continued, only to be cut off by your mother. 

“Don’t mind us, Jake, is it?” She says kindly, glancing to you and then back at Jake. “You must be the boy with the pretty smile who she mentioned the other day.”

Jake does take note of your mother’s reluctance to accept him immediately, and given your past, he guesses that would make sense. Her kind words and smile does not match her eyes when she speaks to him initially, but he’s going to change that now.

Besides, his heart just grew four sizes bigger at your mother outing you to him. You said you like his smile? You said it’s pretty? Fuck, he’ll show you pretty. 

“I can only hope so.” He responds, turning to you and smiling even bigger, noting the way you curl in on yourself in discomfort at the awkward situation. “Always so shy, don’t worry, I think your smile is even prettier.” 

And then Jake trails his eyes to your uncle, proud of the way he felt you shiver at his words.

The man simply judges him, then looks at you with a raised brow. 

“Jake helped me carry my groceries, he lives across the street from me.” You say, feeling stupid and small in the way your mother just fucking embarrassed you in front of the only person you like being around in this city. Still, that judgment from your uncle is called for, you think, and you’ve got to calm his worry for you somehow. 

“Couldn’t just let her carry all that back herself, afterall.” Jake shrugs. “I was raised to know better.” 

Both your mother and uncle nod, going silent for a few moments. 

Then, as if Jake isn’t even here, your mother prompts the conversation that the three of you must have been having before Jake came over. 

“So, have you decided yet?” Your mother asks with no context for Jake to pick up on. 

“Yeah, actually–” You look down, then slightly press your leg against him from under the table. 

As much as you’d prefer this rather telling conversation not to happen in front of Jake, you reluctantly speak in a way that gives little to no context. 

His heart explodes at that simple touch though, ears going deaf from any words you’re saying anyway, and he very nearly shoves his hand under the table to place upon that very same leg. 

Somehow, he holds back, his hand shaking inches above your leg before forcing it back into his own hoodie pocket. 

“I’d like to stay here.” You say confidently now, looking at both your mother and uncle. 

Your mother nods with a smile, your uncle following her reaction. 

“I think I feel safe enough for now.” 

Jake wants so bad to confirm that you’re safe with him, despite knowing exactly what you’re talking about within an instant when he definitely shouldn’t know. 

“Well, you know there’s always a room at home for you if you need to come back–” Your mother seems reluctant to say too much, looking over to Jake with a smile that becomes more genuine. “Keep an eye on her, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

He knows you’d appreciate it and he has gone above and beyond in terms of keeping an eye on you. It’s like, he’s fucking perfect for you. 

Jake nods to her. 

“I’ll do my best.” Jake smiles, now shifting his body up and standing back to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you guys alone.” He continues, now looking at you. “Text me when you get home safe.” 

And as he walks away with a triumphant and hidden smile, your mother immediately smiles at you in the same way. Seemingly lightening up about Jake as a whole, briefly anyway. 

“Text him when you get home safe, huh?” Your mother pries, kicking you gently under the table and watching you squirm and release the blushing mess that you’ve tried to hold within you for the past few minutes. 

“Ah, yeah, um–” You try to speak, unable to explain the safe feeling you feel around Jake. You’re not sure if it’s a crush, or if it’s just you taking advantage of someone who is being kind. “He’s kind of already been watching out for me, so that's partially why I’m choosing to stay here.”

Your mother nods.

“I can admit that he’s cute–” 

You nod to yourself at those words before your uncle interrupts.

“And polite.” he adds, sipping his strong coffee and offering a look of possible approval.

You dead-pan stare at both of them, knowing exactly where this conversation is going. 

“He likes you.” Your mother continues shortly, looking away from you and not allowing you to hush her of the motherly-instinct. “I’m just saying, honey, please be careful. I know he’s cute, and polite, and seemingly safe. But I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

You look down with internal confirmation. 

“It’s okay to live a little, go on that date with him, but go somewhere public first.” She continues. “Don’t move too fast, you’re still–” 

Everything is overwhelming in this moment. Especially when the truth is put into words and offered to you by the two people you trust most. 

“Healing.” You look down at the table as you finish her sentence for her, thinking of how close Jake was sitting next to you. Wishing he was still next to you because somehow, you felt more safe with him than you do your own family right now.

“Don’t sit there and act like I don’t know how you act when you’re being shy about a boy…” Your mom adds to the silence, quirking a brow and looking to her brother. “You’ve still got your pepper spray if you need to use it.”

“It’s not that I’m worried he would like, be like him.” You interject. “ I just don’t know if I’m ready to act on a stupid crush so quickly.” 

“That’s good, and I’m glad he makes you feel safe. Just please hold onto that feeling, don’t rush just because a cute boy is carrying your groceries.”  Your mother starts again, only to be cut off. 

“Okay, okay. Can we talk about something else now?” You roll your eyes.

Your mother keeps to herself after this, and all you have in your head is wondering how and why your mother seems to partially advocate for this man after a mere ten minutes of meeting him. You can see her try to keep you safe despite her distance from this city, yet she seems to be hoping that Jake is a legitimate defense system for you too. It’s as if she’s looking for comfort in him as well. 

She’s never been one to approve of your crushes either, but somehow, this time is different. And these days? You trust her intuition better than your own.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i made it home safe

Jake: good, im really glad. sorry for accidentally ruining your plans today

God, if there’s anything Jake should be sorry for, it’s not that. 

You: it’s ok, i was happy to see you. 

You: my mom seemed to like you

Jake’s cheeks burn reading that as he goes from staring out his window to looking at the screen of his phone. He can tell that as soon as you got home, you headed for your bathroom and you must be in there right now readying yourself for your evening routine, possibly even naked before a shower to text him.

It’s not strange at all that he knows you’re over there all alone, texting him. His body reacts like it always does, and he’s already snaking a hand down his pants just to rub against himself to satiate his body and keep it under control for a bit longer. 

Jake: woah really? how so? 

You type to him almost immediately after each of his responses.

You: idk, they commented on how you asked me on a date or whatever, thinking it was serious. 

Jake: i was serious

You pause, standing at your bathroom sink with your toothbrush in your mouth when a smile creeps across your face. It feels like the first time you ever got asked on a date in highschool, and that little dance of happiness would have been fucking embarrassing if he were to see it. 

Even worse than your reaction to that, your mother would be terrified to know how you shift entirely when you’re alone and talking to Jake. She would faint knowing that you intend to immediately go on a date with him, and she would immediately wake up and faint again knowing that you find yourself letting your guard down entirely around him as well. 

It’s safe to say that, maybe you definitely have a crush on him. Why else would you react this way to how forward he is? Why else are you somehow so willing to go on a date with him despite wanting to stay as far away from relationships as possible?

Why is he so fucking irresistible? Why is he making you feel this way?

You: you were?

Jake: yea, what are you doing rn? 

He’s typing with one hand, legs spread wide while he slouches in his chair and skews his head  to stare through your empty window. He thinks back to the day he stood in your living room looking down at his own window. You could come into your living room now and watch his body jerk with each movement of his palm against himself, phone in hand as he texts you and know exactly what you do to him. 

Each passing moment between his last text to now doesn’t bother him as he works himself up, chewing on his bottom lip and focusing even more on that lit up room across the street, feeling the familiar arousal bubble in his belly as he rips his hand away to grab that same pair of panties he stole from you. There, he shoves them down his pants along with his hand, groaning at the fabric stretching around him like they always do. 

So soft, so gentle.

As for you though, you’re feeling the panic flow through you as you stare in the mirror at your reflection. Right now? He wants to go right now? You just washed your face, and you were about to take a shower. 

You: bout to take a shower, why? 

He groans more at your typed words, remembering the taste of that shower wall, imagining your pretty face with little droplets of water running down it. Imagining droplets of other things running down it. God, his confidence is so high, he’s so fucking horny right now, and he still manages to text you with that one shaking hand. 

Jake: ill come get you right now, i want to go on a date with you

Jake: can i?

His persistence shows his interest in you and it’s so attractive to you right now. Immediately you find yourself spitting, rinsing your toothbrush, and wiping your mouth clean before opening your makeup box again. 

You: right now? 

Jake: right now. 

You: can you give me like twenty minutes? 

There are explosions surrounding him right now, or rather, a very intense orgasm. He scored a date with you and he feels the confirmation run straight through his body and out the head of his cock, all over your panties, his hand, and his pants. And god, he’s a little frustrated that he spent so long trying not to get his own cum on your panties, solely to keep more of that scent of you, but he fucking got a date.

Who cares? He can surely just snatch another pair, possibly right off your legs.

After all, you asked for twenty minutes surely to try and look nice for him. Fuck, that means you want him to look at you the way he always has been. He wonders if you’ll do something different with your makeup, or if you’ll put on a different kind of outfit. All for him.

Finally for him. For him. For him. 

Jake: of course, text me when you’re ready

And then, he just watches as his body makes an attempt to relax. The way you wisp back and forth like a ghost through your apartment, rushing to find something to put on. Even from here he can see you smiling. Running around in a bra and panties, he moans slightly, almost considering fucking his cum into your panties again but ultimately choosing to stand and change him. Mostly because he sees you think hard about your outfit. The way you throw on a shirt only to take it off and slip on a dress instead, despite the cold weather. 

He’s going to give you that same effort, eyes glued to his window as he blindly searches his closet by touch alone. 

He wants to text you again after you run your hands down your stomach in that dress you put on, he wants to tell you to keep it on. He wants to tell you how pretty your matching pair of bra and panties look under it. He wants to say so much, do so much, and containing it is so fucking hard. 

Yet, still, he manages. 

When you stand in your living room, that same dress still on, he watches you throw a jacket over it, he can’t help but wonder if you could sense his hope that you’d wear that. He wants to have a reason to keep you warm, a reason to put his palms on your legs to warm them up, a reason to be close to you. After all, this is a date, you’re inviting him to be close to you, right?

And then his phone buzzes and he struggles to tear his eyes from the image of you standing there with your phone in your hand. 

You: okay, im ready! 

Jake immediately sighs, staring up at the ceiling to get his body to calm down. His dick is twitching wildly in his pants again, his hands are sweating, his entire body is vibrating. It’s finally happening. 

You’re going on a date with him, and he’s had the perfect place planned and in his mind since the first day he met you from your window. 

He’s quick to throw on an outfit, slip on his shoes, and run out his door. 

Jake: on my way outside now, meet me in your lobby in 5

You’re fucking beaming. For the first time in a long time feeling like you may be the luckiest person in the world. There is no pain within you as your butterflies overtake every amount of angst you had about meeting someone under circumstances of dating. 

You’re here to get away from your ex, not to fucking ban yourself from having a good time. You want to have fun. You want to stop being afraid. 

And god, Jake is like, the perfect guy for it. 

You enter the lobby to find him standing proudly against the wall, propped up in a lazy way and already looking at you with a dopey grin. He looks flushed, proud, and happy. Arguably, he’s even more attractive now than you ever thought he was before and instantly, you’re ten times more shy than you’ve ever been. 

“There she is,” He smiles, spreading his arms out to invite you into a hug like he tried to do before, and he’s shocked that you step into his grasp. “was starting to worry I was too forward.” He adds, immediately burying his face against your neck. 

You smile against his chest in the hug, feeling so warm for the first time in your life. A warmth that comes from something other than rage or tears. Already, you can feel your body shiver at the way his arms wrap tightly around you in a hug that doesn’t feel condemning. 

You don’t feel trapped against another person, and it’s a welcome change. 

“You definitely were a bit too forward but–” You pause, stepping out of his grasp and feeling the empty air replace his arms. “It made me feel better about liking it.”

Jake gives a reassuring smile before lending his hand to you and instantly intertwining his fingers with yours, shoving them into his hoodie pocket, and dragging you close to him before leading you out of the building. He’s reeling from the hug, feeling the way your breasts pressed up against him, the way you sighed against him, and the way you smelled while you did it. 

God damn. 

In his head, that hug from you felt better than any sex he’s ever had to date. His entire body reacted as to be expected, to the point he was thankful that you weren’t as close in the hug from the waist down as he wished you would have been. You would have felt that reaction, you would know how you wake his entire body up. 

Thankfully, the cold air outside lends him a hand in taming his lower half, and also lends your hand to him to keep warm. 

“Where are we going?” You ask out, voice gentle in the night air, unaware of how the man next to you is buzzing from his feet to the top of his ears. 

He’s struggling not to lose his mind. 

He can see your breath, and wants to swallow it. Each huff and puff, each word, he can visually see it in this icy night, and he knows it has to be warm despite the minty toothpaste he can smell on you.

God, he knows what your mouth tastes like, the smell sending shivers down his spine at the reminder of how he sucked your essence off of the bristles you must have used just minutes before now. He wants to kiss you, he wants to kiss your breath, he wants to devour the air and aura that surrounds you when you’re next to him. 

Honestly, the cold weather does not freeze his bones. He feels entirely hot, leading you to his favorite place in the city. 

“Nothing big, I assume you ate with your family so I figured we could skip the regular date stuff. I want to take you somewhere quiet and pretty.” He looks over at you, hoping you see how much he adores you. 

Somehow, you do notice something in his eye. A shine, a glint. It’s something you’ve never seen in any pair of eyes that looked at you. His pupils seem to be dilated and his eyes almost look black, still, that smile reaches those same dark eyes, indicating to you that he is happy. 

He looks happy to be with you right now. 

And on any other day, a man you barely know saying he’s taking you somewhere “quiet” would scare you. But….you’re not scared. You’re looking forward to it, actually. 

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he waits for you to speak back to him, leading you easily through the city streets. 

“Quiet and pretty?” You say, looking up at him. “Does this place happen to have a heater?”

It doesn’t. But that’s what he’s for. 

“Unfortunately, no, but–” He goes to say, and you stop walking for a second. “I was going to say I could keep you warm, I mean, if you want. If not, I can take you somewhere else.”

You look down, weighing the options on whether you want to be that close to him so immediately, or if you’d rather follow the general rule of dates. Dinner, movie, goodnight kiss. You already hugged him, and you can admit to liking the way his arms hugged you. Maybe you’re not entirely against the idea, despite feeling alarm bells deep in your brain go off, telling you that you’re moving too fast. 

And then you wonder why you start walking again, and why you’re imagining him holding you close, huddling your body against his to keep you from shaking. Intimacy. You’re thinking of intimacy. 

Why does it feel good? Why does the thought excite you? 

“You’ll keep me warm?” You reluctantly ask, your fingers twitching in his within that hoodie pocket. 

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t want to seem too forward–” His fingers squeeze yours tighter, as if to comfort you. 

You sigh, chuckling. 

“Like I said, I like that you’re forward— just, no funny business okay? This is a date, not a hookup.”

Jake pauses, glancing away.

As much as he’d love to lay you down against cold, moon-lit grass and taste the entirety of your body. As much as he wants to hear you call out to him, feel you react to him, he knows what’s inside of your head better than you do, he knows he needs to tame that need for now. The fact alone that you even imagined it for a second, just to find out if you want that now, just to tell him that you don’t want it yet, is enough to satisfy him. 

It won't be long until you’re asking for it anyway. 

Plus, he would never do anything to you without your consent. If he’s allowed to keep you warm tonight, that alone is better than anything he could ask to experience. 

“No funny business.” He uses his other hand to hold out a pinky to you. “Jesus, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Suddenly, you feel guilty as you take his pinky into your own and seal those words into a promise. Jake picks up on the way your face falls.

“I haven’t been on a date in over a year. Been avoiding it if I’m being honest,” He starts to explain as a way to soothe you, guiding you gently through a large gate. As if to connect with you on your level of discomfort. “My last relationship ended pretty badly, I didn’t think I’d ever want to date again.”

You perk up at his words, looking at him as he guides the two of you through a dark and grassy area. You can still tell his eyes are shining as he shares this with you, making you feel special and….not alone in your anxieties about this. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, or why I immediately want to skip all of the casual shit when it comes to dates but, this is where I wanted to bring you.” He smiles when he stops you, standing in front of you and grabbing your other hand, holding it, and shoving it into his hoodie pocket alongside the other. “Not because I was trying to come onto you. If I was going to do that, I would've asked you to come home with me.” 

You feel his icy knuckles and squeeze his hand hard to try and warm it up. Maybe to comfort him, or to thank him? 

“I didn’t even bring my ex here. I actually came here to get away from her sometimes.”

You look away when the blood rushes to your cheeks at the way he’s talking to you. He’s acting like the two of you have been on at least ten dates by now, but it’s only been one.

Somehow, some way, you lean into it. Into him. 

“My last relationship wasn’t very good either. Was so bad that I actually find it hard to believe that I’m on a date with someone right now, I still don’t even know if I’d know how to love again.”

You pause, closing your lips tightly and feeling awkward for saying the L word so fast like that. Implying that you don’t know if you could love Jake.

“Would you feel better knowing that I’m not asking you to think of the future?” He offers, slowly lowering himself and pulling you to the bare ground with him. 

The dirt is cold, but Jake is warm. 

“Just worry about how you feel today, when you’re with me. If you’re enjoying it, there’s no reason to worry about what you might feel–” He reaches for you to turn you around and drag you onto his lap before quickly enveloping you into his arms. “Or what you might not feel.” He pauses with a squeeze against you. “Is this okay?”

You don’t understand why it’s okay that he’s being so touchy, but he is warm, and any shiver that threatened to hit you now only comes in the form of butterflies seeping out of every pore on your body. He’s pulled you into his lap as if to keep you from having to sit on a blanket-less ground, and his arms are around you as if to remind you that blankets only exist for people who don’t have him.

It takes so much self control not to pull away when you feel his chest breathing against your back, but it takes even more self control to not turn around and cling onto him in the same way. You’ve wanted to feel safe so badly, for so long. You wanted to feel this way on your own though, without the need to lean on someone else. 

You’ve never wanted to be a damsel in distress, but goddamn are you fucking distressed. Your trust issues run deep, so fucking deep. Anyone can see that you are a broken person, but not everyone would accept you for it. 

Jake, right behind you, right under you, holding you so close like this the moment you’d let him? He accepts you entirely, and it’s so enticing to you. You can’t turn away from it, you’d only fail yourself. 

You’re so fucking drawn to him, no matter how forward or blatant he is. 

“This is a bit overwhelming,” You start, pulling away from him slightly and turning to look at him. But then you see his face, and how sincere he looks. “But I’ll try to appreciate how I feel right now.”

“Does that mean you’re okay with this?” Jake whispers, pulling you back against him and pressing his face against your shoulder, breathing in deep to get that scent of you into his lungs. 

You don’t notice the way he does it when you nod in response, and the way he’s entirely enamored with you at this moment. He wouldn’t be able to let you go if you asked him to, not when your body is relaxing against him and you’re letting out a small hum of cautious approval. 

“Are you warm?” He continues, shifting his legs only slightly from under you, mostly to make sure you’re coat is offering enough padding under you to keep from feeling the blood pumping in his pants right now. And then, his hands move from his hug down to your legs, big warm palms not moving from the expanse just above your knees, instantly warming you.

He can feel your shivers calm, and your regret for wearing this dress die. 

You nod again, still cautious but also wanting to fight the fear within you so that you can really just enjoy this moment of closeness with someone else. Even if you just met him. Even if you’re afraid. His hands feel like they belong there, as you stare at the way he doesn’t move them higher or lower. They’re really just there to keep you warm, and surprisingly, you don’t know if you could ever feel cold around him at this point. 

“I'm scared of this, you know?” You comment into the night after a few moments of silence, reluctantly holding onto his wrist, pushing them down your leg a bit as if to imply he should rub them. 

He follows your movement, wincing from behind you in a hidden attempt to contain the fact that he very much wanted to moan at that. Feeling your legs against his palm feels so….igniting to him. 

“I know.” Jake says in a matter of fact tone, confident in his words as he bores holes into the revealed skin of your leg when he moves his hands back and forth. 

“You do?” You lift to turn and look at him, but his hands instantly move to your shoulders as he turns you away from him, forcing you back against him in a tight hug. 

Mostly because you do not need to see his face right now, he knows he looks fucking gone. 

“Anyone can see that you’re terrified.” He comments seriously now, placing his head on your shoulder and pressing his cheek against yours. “It’s no wonder I feel the need to protect you.”

You’re shocked that you don’t flinch at feeling his cheek against yours, noting that his lips are just inches from yours. You try to erase the images of kissing him so soon, you’re too weak right now. He makes you feel so weak. 

Instead, you try to think hard about his words. Trying to ignore the way you felt his jaw move against you. Trying to ignore your immense attraction to the closeness he’s giving you. Are you really that obvious? Are you really this desperate to be close to someone? Anyone? 

“Hoping that someday you’ll tell me what it is that makes you so afraid, but for now? Just know that I’d never do anything to make you feel like that.” 

You think harder. 

Much, much harder.

An uncanny feeling in your gut wonders how he finds words that are so meaningful to you. It’s like he can read your mind. It’s like your life is a book that he’s read a thousand times. 

But that’s impossible. You haven’t known him for long, maybe he’s just….a really good person. Maybe you’re just lucky to have bumped into him that day. Maybe it’s lucky that your ex instilled a fear into you so deep that you found yourself living next door to the man holding you right now. 

“How do you do that?” You comment quietly, feeling warmer than you ever could have expected to on a night like this. 

“Do what?” He smiles, now loosening his grip on you, pulling his face back, and spreading his legs so that you’re now sitting between them, rather than on him. 

After all, if he had kept you there, you would have felt what was happening in his pants by now. The way you don’t run away from him, the way you let him touch you has him reacting for more than he ever knew he could. Even after releasing his arousal just before the date, he can already feel the ache. The need to crawl into you, the need to make you fucking love him. 

“It’s like you tell me exactly what I need to hear. It’s fucking weird.” You continue through his movement, scooting back as if to huddle yourself against his warm chest, in turn bumping his pathetically hard cock against your back. 

You try to hide that you’re a little disappointed that you’re no longer on his lap, and the back of your thighs are now freezing against the grass. He, on the other hand, is so fucking thankful that you still manage to not feel what his body is trying to show you right now. His arms immediately wrap back around you, holding you against him much like before.

You really don’t know why you wore this fucking dress, without tights no less. 

“It’s weird?” He questions. “It’s weird that I wouldn’t do anything bad to you if you gave me a chance?”

You look down, feeling those words hit you in the gut. It is weird, but then again, you’ve never really had a relationship with a person who wouldn’t bring harm to you. 

“I–” You pause, thinking as hard as you can without oversharing, hands reaching up to grip his forearms, pressing them tighter against you as if you want him to save you from…well, him. “I have my reasons. I’m not trying to call you weird. It’s just weird how you show up in my life at a time where I think I needed this the most.”

He smiles. 

“Well, you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to get rid of me at this point.”

You smile back.

“Likewise.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Three more dates have taken place since that first night in the empty park. Each date that followed took place in the same spot, with the same weather, and the same offered warmth. 

By now, you find yourself unable to avoid thoughts of him. Thoughts of how badly you like him after learning of his interests, after seeing how he carries himself, and how he treats you over all. The way he seems so in tune with everything you could ever want or need, filling you with only safe care rather than horrifying uncertainty.

Jake likes the same books, tv shows, music, movies. All of them line up near perfect to your own favorites and suddenly you believe that the red string of fate exists. Jake is careful when he touches you, never pushing and only offering, suddenly, that red string of fate is attached firmly to your pinky. Jake looks at you like he sees one of the world's wonders, which was uncomfortable at first for you, but you think that maybe the other end of this little invisible red string is tied to his other pinky. 

Your entire life of fucking horror led to this point, where the universe finally gave you the person you’d want to be with for real. Any other man would make you feel cautious, Jake though? Jake does nothing but make you feel like, for the first time, you don’t need to have a guard up. The fact that he managed to do this so fast is a bit telling on your end, that perhaps you put too much faith in people, but goddamn, it looks like he works so hard to show you that you’re not wrong about him.

On your last date, he even tried to kiss you. You panicked, backed away, and felt so fucking embarrased, until he texted you a mere fifteen minutes after parting ways and apologizing, stating that he didn’t know what came over him. 

He apologized to you. He didn’t take what he wanted despite your fear, he didn’t push or pull, he simply allowed you to exist beside him, in front of him, even behind him if it’s what you wanted at the time.

God, you should have kissed him. You should have kissed him hard enough for him to realize that you’re trying. 

You’re trying to be a person again, for yourself, for Jake, for your mom and uncle. Still though, he doesn’t know the shit you’ve gone through, or the shit you’re running from. You feel so dissociated at times, wondering how strange or odd you must react towards him during the dates he takes you on. Yet, he doesn’t falter. He doesn’t question. He doesn’t force you to feel like you need to apologize at all.

And this is all you can think about now. About Jake. About what he’s doing, about how he must be feeling today, about how he wears his hair, and how his alternating hoodies always offer warmth on a cold night when the two of you are sitting closely together on the ground just…talking.

The thoughts of him don’t stop and it’s kind of nice. Having your fears so loud in your ears every day, anxieties of your ex eating you alive, and fear of being alone in a big city can get quite loud and exhausting after so long of not being able to escape. Thoughts of him are the only thing that calms your mind lately, so you probably wouldn’t stop thinking of him even if you had the choice.

Unfortunately, that choice is made for you today, once again, just two days after that third date with Jake. 

A single text from an unknown number that shifts your brain into a fuzzy focus of terror. Your mother told you to change your number, and you really should have done it by now. You have no excuse as to why you haven’t, but you have the reason as to why you should have done it shining brightly in your notifications center. 

The unknown number is just that, unknown, but you know who it is already. 

Your fingers shake when you tap the screen and your eyes go dead upon the message. This confirms that your body will always know when he is around, you will always have to feel this way for as long as he’s thinking about you. 

Unknown Number: heard you got a job over at [redacted company name], mind if we have lunch?

You don’t know who told him, you don’t know how he found out where you are, or where you work. All you know is that now, the buzzing thoughts of Jake fizzle out and are quickly replaced with that of searing reminders of what happened, and what will likely happen if your ex is really trying to get to you already.

It’s the fact that the police did nothing. It’s the reality that they wouldn’t let you procure a restraining order. It’s the fact that he got away with everything he did to you, and wants to get away with more. You’re just a girl, alone in a city who thought this was the best course of action. 

You can’t even bring yourself to tell anyone that he texted you. Your mother would scold you for not changing your number fast enough, despite already knowing you haven’t done it yet. It would somehow be your fault that he found you despite his insistent attempts to keep you as his, as if you belong on a chain tied to a tree in his backyard. 

You call out of work, explaining the situation. Your managers are already aware of your safety concerns and the situation at hand, and you’re lucky that they really do live up to the promises they made when you took the job. 

All three sick days can be used right now if you need them but after those three days, you have to either work from home and be willing to come into the office if you are needed, or you need to put in your notice and leave. 

Naturally, you take the sick days, and you intend to work from home. 

Despite not feeling safe here, considering the few items in your apartment that went missing not too long ago, it’s safer than walking to and from work. It’s safer with Jake just next door. It’s safer with the security guard in your building’s lobby. 

You’ll be okay. This will pass.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake is at a loss, nearly ripping his hair out day by day when you don’t text him back. 

When he looks to your window, the lights stay off consistently, the curains are fucking closed. You haven’t left your apartment for work, you haven’t texted nor have you called. 

It’s been six days, nine hours, thirty eight minutes, and nine seconds since he last saw you and the only thing he can think of is that he fucked up. 

He tried to kiss you, and you eased him into a rejection by pretending everything was fine until you felt comfortable enough to stop talking to him. For three days now, you haven’t responded to him.

Three days without any hint of you, and six days without feeling you in his arms. 

He’s going insane and not even jerking off helps calm him down like it normally would. He feels like he could lose it at any moment as he paces his apartment with a buzzing non-stop energy within him, stopping at his bedroom window to stare for hours only to see no movement in your apartment. Only to still see the lights remaining off. Only to see the blinds locking him away from you.

Sure, he’s got the grainy footage of you from weeks past, the footage from the day you got dressed for your first date with him, and the footage from each date after that but he doesn’t have you. The last two days contain footage of blinds swaying, that’s it.

He was so close, he really thought he was. He thought he had you, he thought you were almost ready to let him move to the next level. He thought you would accept if he were to ask you to be his girlfriend, he thought you would let him kiss you, and let him into your apartment, and let him exist within the air you breathe. 

But you left. 

So, naturally, he works up the courage to grab his camera and hook it into his pc. Obsessively searching for any sign of you within the footage from last night. He tries not to think about missing a glimpse of you as he is away from his window, seeing as how you must not be home. You must have left days ago just to get away from him.

Until…as he fast forwards all of the footage, he sees a light flicker on. 

The timestamp reads four in the morning, and the light stays on for a mere minute and a half before turning off again. 

One thought floods his mind. 

Did you find out that he watches you? 

Then another thought.

Are you hiding from him? 

And one last thought. 

How can he explain and still get you back?

And as he continuously paces his apartment, unable to focus on anything other than knowing you’re in your bedroom hiding, nothing on this earth could calm his frantic brain.

Should he go over? Should he come see you? Should he text you again? Should he–

Pacing the same path in his apartment for far too long, nearly ripping his own hair out, he stops in his tracks at the sound of his phone. He knows that vibration like his own mother tongue by now. That’s you. You’re finally texting him back.

You: are you mad at me?

The relief is instant and near orgasmic. The first contact in what felt like an eternity for him in his head, he takes a deep and calming breath. His eyes flick back to your window, where your apartment still appears to be hidden from his view. 

Jake: never, i was just worried since you stopped talking to me. 

You stare at your phone, scrolling up the some fifty text messages Jake sent you over the last several days and feel awful for not once checking your phone. To be fair, you’re afraid that every message is from your ex and you eventually just ended up turning your phone off. 

After all, you remember what happened the last time you blocked him. That wasn’t even an option for you at this point if he really knows where you are. 

The fear inside of you is so strong by this point that you can’t help but want Jake to be with you. Even inside of your apartment, where you’ve yet to invite anyone aside from family. You just want one single day of calm, one single moment of feeling okay. The past three days have been nothing but a paranoid delusion for you. 

Each sway of your curtains in front of your blinds is a person who isn’t meant to be inside of your space. Each footstep in the hallway outside of your apartment isn’t other residents, it’s someone trying to get inside. Those missing batteries from weeks ago? It was him. Your missing panties? He has them. 

Just like Jake, though unknowing to you, you have been pacing much like he has. You’ve been on the verge of ripping your hair out too.

You: i think we need to talk

Jake’s relief turns to curiosity, to confusion, to horror, to excitement.

Jake: of course, love

Jake: do you want to go to the park again tonight? 

You shake your head as you text back with a firm “no”, wanting so badly to explain to him why you’re acting the way you are, and why you’ve always acted so defensively. You need him to understand so that he doesn’t leave. You need him solely because he is all you’ve got right now. 

You: no

You: ill explain everything but can you like…

Jake’s ears twitch as if he can hear your words, with your pretty voice, and that cute pitch it has when you talk to him. 

You: i don’t like to invite people to my apartment but I'd really just rather you come over. 

In less than a second Jake’s heart threatens his health. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. After days of festering in love rot for you, months actually, you’re finally inviting him. All forms of negativity towards your lack of speaking to him lately is laid to rest instantly as he jumps to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom to clean up. 

Jake: just tell me when, you know I’m here when you need me. 

It’s a shame that he said that, really, because you take it to heart. You need him now and will probably need him far past his ability to give to you. He will grow so tired so fast, surely, but you can’t deny nor can you avoid that you need him. 

You need his comfort, his safety, his smile, his dilated pupils each time he looks at you, and his careful hands reluctant to hurt you. 

You: can you come now?

Jake is already out the door, following the same path he took the first time he went to your apartment. Honestly, it’s quick enough to remind you that he’s just next door. 

Jake: im in the lobby, where do I go?

You pause, briefly realizing that you’re inviting a man into your apartment just so you can feel safe from another man you once invited into your life the same way. You were so enamored with your ex, never thought he could have done what he did to you, but he did. He shattered you from the inside out through years of meticulous work, and he’s still doing it now, all because you trusted him.

It’s driving you to act as recklessly as you once did, and it’s like you’re compelled to do it. You feel forced to trust Jake, despite none of the force coming from him. It’s coming from deep within yourself. Your brain is repeating whispers of “do it, do it, do it.” when it comes to him. 

You can’t resist it. 

You don’t want to resist it. 

You’re fast when you text him your floor and room number, and somehow still find yourself shocked at how quickly there is a knock on your door. 

Jake didn’t need your informational text though, he knew exactly where to go. He knows where he belongs, and the excitement within him to have an explanation from you is one thing. The excitement of standing inside of your apartment with you is another. 

His thoughts remain on that camera he placed back into his window, knowing that he will finally see himself in the footage with you, in the very spot he thinks about the most. He’s worked so hard for this, so hard. 

And his hands are shaking when you open the door, his heart is shaking when he takes in the scent he remembered from before, his legs shake as he takes a step in with a face of somewhat genuine concern for you, simply to hide the way his entire body is fluttering in euphoria. 

“Hey,” You start, trying to be nonchalant, trying to ignore that you look like shit. “Sorry for the mess.” You add, gesturing to not only your apartment, but at yourself as well.

“Aw,” Jake coos, poking out his bottom lip before opening his arms wide as he hears the door fall closed behind him. “Come here.”

Instantly you do, and instantly your face is hot. 

Searing. On fire.

Jake freezes, feeling the warmth against his chest paired with the death grip your arms instantly lock him into. This grip on him is painfully heavy and seeped with emotion, he can feel your hot tears soaking into his hoodie and it raises goosebumps across his skin. 

This is where he belongs. 

“I’m sorry–” You hiccup, feeling stupid for instantly crying at the touch of another person. “This must seem so annoying to you.” 

“Sorry for what?” He asks gently, finally managing to come back to your reality to hug you and hold you there, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. “Is everything okay?”

He can’t bear to let you pull away, so he holds you tighter against him, willing those salty sweet tears to seep through both layers of his clothing to his skin. Somehow, you still manage to make him fall harder for you. He’s so fucking in love with you. The way you cling to him like this? You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. 

You try to pull back though. Once, twice, and by the third time he finally relents and lets you back away. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze for just a moment and seeing the concern in his eyes. Pupils still dilated like they always are, but brows knitted together, with a small tilt to his head to offer a silent question.

You turn away from him to hide your face. You feel so seen, so vulnerable, and so stupid for involving him in this. 

“It’s–” You pause, catching your breath and wiping your cheek as you try to make your way back to your safe space. Your bedroom. “It’s a long story.” You finally mutter out. 

Jake notes where you’re headed and doesn’t want that. He needs his camera to get this, he needs to look back on this moment later, he needs to remember the smell of your tears, the feeling of your pain, the suffocating atmosphere within this apartment. 

So, he takes a seat on your couch, blatantly ignoring how your voice fades before getting closer again. 

You look at him when you go back to the living room, confused as to why he doesn’t follow you. 

“You mentioned not inviting people into your apartment, don’t you think it would be best if I stay here for now?” He offers, giving you instant comfort in the way he doesn’t try to invade your space. “Come over here.” He continues, patting the couch cushion next to him and glancing to your window for a moment. 

You watch him continue his own train of thought, shifting to reach for the blinds and open them. “It’s so dark in here, let me see you, love.”  He offers again, going back to patting the couch after letting the sun in and making it seem, somehow, more enticing. “Please?” 

You listen, quietly making your way to him and sitting closely against him. 

“I thought I scared you away because I–um,” He gazes at you as he speaks, seemingly studying the emotional baggage under your eyes. “tried to kiss you.” He trails off, very much wanting to kiss you again. 

“That didn’t scare me.” You shake your head, still trying to avoid his eye now that you know the sun is allowing him a true view at how destroyed you must look. “It’s just, we’ve been on a few dates now and I like you– alot.” You say more to yourself than to him, as if you’re confirming internally that you need to explain some things to him before giving him the option to run away. “I feel like I–”

“I like you.” He interrupts you. “Alot.” He continues, becoming hyper-aware of everything in the universe. He can feel the hairs on his head grow, he can hear the birds a country away, he can taste the sunlight spilling against your watery eyes. 

You like him, and he likes you. 

And he takes intense note of the way you dip your head, a small smile curling up on the permanent frown you previously had. 

“But Jake,” You say, letting your face fall again. “I think we need to talk about some things before, like, you decide if you really like me.”

That’s silly. He knows everything about you already. He’s in love with you, nothing you could say or do will ever change that. He wishes you could see it, he wishes you knew that he was made for you. 

“There is nothing you could say to change my mind,” He says sternly, turning towards you and attempting to make you look at him by grabbing your chin gently between his pointer finger and thumb, “Hey, look at me.” He urges you, pleased in the way you do turn to look at him. 

He’s stunned. The whites of your eyes are red, your eyelids are puffy, you appear to be so tired, and still you are so beautiful to him.

For a moment, you take note of the way he looks at you and wonder how he could genuinely think that way and show it so blatantly. Are you the one who is acting recklessly here, or is it him? Somehow, it brings you comfort, even if you feel the need to force your eyes away from him. 

He doesn’t let you, and you let him not let you. 

Your eyes stay on his. 

“I don’t think you realize how much I want to be with you.” He admits blatantly, forcing you to forget your train of thought for a total of three seconds before your eyes really lock onto his. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize that.” He continues. 

“Jake,” You mutter out, feeling so full of emotion that you weren’t quite prepared to accept yet. “Please,” You mutter again, continuously losing your thoughts, only to gain them back moments later, and then lose them again when his eyes stare through you. “Please, let me explain something before you say that.” 

He pulls his eyes away now, closing them and pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration before breathing out and adjusting his eyes to you again. 

He nods reluctantly, relaxing against your couch and throwing his arm around the back of you, pulling you to lean against him, where you can instantly hear the way his heart is beating. 

It’s beating fast. So fast that it’s almost distracting to you if you think too hard about it. So, you don’t. You try to ignore the way it beats against the top of your head just so you can finally give him some insight on why you haven’t texted him, on why you didn’t let him kiss you, on why you’re so reluctant. 

“Remember how we were talking about our last relationships?” You finally say, feeling his hand on your shoulder rub little shapes against your shirt in a comforting way.

He hums, continuing to trace his own name against your sleeve as he confirms your words. Because of fucking course he does. He remembers everything about you. 

“Mine was bad.” You pause, willing the emotion to say in your throat. “Really bad.”

“How bad?” Jake encourages you instantly, already knowing the answer. 

To be fair though, he’s been waiting to hear the words from your own mouth. He’s been pretending to not know this entire time, holding in his rage when he’s in front of you, seeing how it affected you, feeling what he did to you through your lack of trust and affection. 

“I think you could probably guess, considering I didn’t let you kiss me.” You try to say without going too deep into it. “Considering I’m afraid to let you touch me.”

“But you did.” He says calmly, running the hand on your shoulder down to your waist to pull you in closer. “You did let me touch you.” 

You recoil internally. 

“I let you hug me, and I let you keep me warm.” You admit. “I don’t know why I let you though. I wasn’t afraid when it was with you.” 

Jake knows exactly what you’re trying to say to him, and loves that you admit that he’s different. He is different because of you and for you. His stomach flutters at the fact that you know that, and you accept it.

“Because I wouldn’t hurt you.” He continues to echo his words to you, seemingly giving you a final answer to a question in your head that you have yet to find an answer to. “Because I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you.”

God, the warmth that floods your body is what you’ve been wanting. This is why you wanted him to come over. This is why you need him. You can’t do this alone, you want him here with you.

“I think, deep down, you know that I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you again.” He continues, talking for you, talking as if he is inside of your head. 

“I can make an assumption on what he did to you and I don’t need to know how far it went, but it’s not going to keep me away from you.” He takes in a sigh, releasing his next words with a breathy chuckle. “I have always wanted to be with you, and I still do.” 

He feels the way your breathing evens out as you listen to him. 

“Did you stop talking to me because of this?” He finally asks, letting the question hang in the air before his hand grips your waist tightly, holding you so close against him that you’re nearly on top of him. “Did you think I wouldn’t fight to have you?” 

The words are brash and hard to swallow, but that’s not why.

If you could, you would have gone the rest of your life without telling another person what happened to you. You don’t want it to define you, and you don’t want Jake to ever feel like he needs to fight for you. 

You shake your head.

“No.” You say sternly, now wrapping your own arm around his middle and hugging him as tightly as he does to you. Your head dips below his chest, up against his ribs as you curl yourself into him entirely, preparing to tell him. “I moved here to get away from him–” You start, feeling your body shiver in each spot your ex hurt you from before. “And I think he found me.”

You feel it before Jake realizes it himself, but it’s like all of the warmth left his body within seconds. He stiffens, his grip on you loosens, and he trembles for just long enough for it to be noticeable. 

“What?” He says, breathing in through his nose and staring straight ahead, seemingly out of it. 

“He texted me a few days ago, mentioning he knows where I work, asking if I want to have lunch with him.” You try to explain. “I freaked out, I called in, and I haven’t left my apartment since.”

“He what?” Jake repeats, now slowly turning to you.

For the first time when you meet his eye, you see his pupils constrict. They’re not dilated, in fact, they’re tiny. Horrifically tiny. And if you look hard enough, it’s almost like they’re vibrating against the pretty brown color of his iris. The simple act of watching them change like that felt uncanny. You pull back from him, shocked at the expression and not quite recognizing him compared to moments before. 

And then, he realizes your reaction to him and is immediately pulling himself back to you. He pushes that shocked rage back for now. Just for now. His pupils fall back into their permanent dilated state. His face softens, his body relaxes, and then he’s holding you again. 

“No one can hurt you when I’m here.” He finally whispers out, trying to keep his voice even and warm to calm you down. “So, he found you? So what?” He continues, letting his confidence take over. “I already told you, he can’t touch you.”

For some reason, his initial reaction sinks into the back of your mind as he holds you like this and says things like that. Why? Because you believe him. 

Somehow, you believe him. 

“Can you promise me that?” You ask reluctantly, taking everything you can get from Jake at this moment in an attempt to feel safe, to feel better. 

He nods instantly, and keeps nodding as he shifts his head to look down at you. This prompts you to look up at him, making direct eye contact and holy fuck. It hurts him not to dip down and make you forget that anyone else in this world exists aside from him. 

From this angle, as you look up to him with a promise swirling around the two of you, he knows he’s got you. You’ve never looked at him like this. There is no hint of doubt, curiosity, confusion, or fear in your eyes as you wait for him to answer. 

All he can do is stare at you, breath caught in his throat at the constant realization that he’s here. You’re against him, you’re talking to him, you’re looking at him, you’re–fuck, you’re everything he’s ever wanted or needed in life. 

“I can promise you that, and more.” He finally whispers out to you, knowing you can feel his words spread across your forehead. “I think I’d do just about anything for you.” 

You nod, keeping eye contact with him for a moment more before lying your head back against him and breathing a big sigh of relief. 

“I guess I’m yours then.” You sigh out, feeling comfortable saying the words. 

And oh. 

Oh, the fucking joy that rattles every bone in his body. The immense amount of love, adoration, and wonderstruck devotion he feels for you fills his body from the core, he can feel it seep out of him with each breath, each tear that reaches his eye, each goosebump, all of it. 

You’re his. You said it. With your own voice, your own words, your own thoughts, right up by his heartbeat, you fucking said it.

“Yeah,” He says in his own shaking breath, blinking away the first tear he’s felt in his eye for years, wanting to squeeze you so tight that you go numb. “You are.” He continues, swooping down just slightly and prompting you to look at him again.

Those dark eyes are dazed, and once again you feel like he sees you as the only other breathing person on this planet with him. It’s….so nice.

Silence hangs in the air as you look at each other, seemingly confirming a relationship that feels more uncertain to you than it does to him, but you know you’ll try. You want to be his safety too, you want to give him everything you have. 

And then he says it. 

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” 

It hurts you when you hear the way he says it. So uncertain and reluctant to cross a boundary. You’re trying to confirm his feelings for you, the feelings that you feel so lucky to receive. You’re trying to make him understand that he’s the only person you’re comfortable with. He’s the only one you’d ever let kiss you. 

You’ve made him hold back so much, you can imagine. 

You nod to him first, watching him almost immediately close in to do just that, but you pull back on instinct. 

“Just–” You raise a hand in front of him, putting your fingers to his lips to halt him. “Let’s go slow.” You say, already knowing he will accept it. He will go slow for you. 

“Love, you really just don’t get it.” Jake smiles, averting his lips and landing a kiss to your forehead, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his lips for the first time. “I have enough patience for both of us.”

And if only you knew how true that statement is. For him, he’s already been waiting for this moment since before you knew he existed. Despite his small moments of losing control, needing more, he could have waited even longer for this moment with you. All of it is worth it in the end if he gets to hear you call yourself his again. 

You are his. You have always been his. 

And you decide at that moment that he is right. He’s been nothing but patient with you, and has done nothing to make you feel otherwise. 

A kiss wouldn’t hurt, a few kisses wouldn’t hurt. 

So, you lift your head just a bit more, closing your eyes softly and waiting for him to do it. Waiting for him to kiss you, waiting for him to–

“Little more,” He encourages you, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Just a little closer.” 

And you do. The least you can do is close the distance for him, especially after what he just learned about you. He probably wants you to be the one to approach him, he probably doesn’t want to cross a boundary, or scare you. 

For Jake, the way you listen without a hint of hesitation is…well. It scares him. It scares him how every assumption he had about you was right. Given, he knew he would be, but experiencing it right here, right now, is amazing to him. 

He keeps his eyes open through all of it, seeing your heavy eyes stay closed as you place your lips on his. 

It’s so soft. Your lips are plush when they’re puckered against his own, soft, so fucking soft. He chokes back a relieved sob at finally getting this from you, hiding it with a thick swallow and his hands rushing up to cup both of your cheeks in his hands as he lets himself feel you like this.

He’s thought about it so much. Just these few seconds of feeling you kiss him already exceeds his expectations. He can feel your eyelashes flutter on the tips of his fingers, and it only makes him tilt his head just a bit to slot his lips against yours in a more comfortable position.

He doesn’t move after that, nor do you. Both of you just feel it. 

It’s the first time you’ve kissed anyone since your ex and even he didn’t hold your face against his like this, despite swearing he loved you more than life itself. You can feel the burn at the corner of your eyes, and you breathe out through your nose to try and keep them in. 

You don’t even notice the tears that escape until Jake is tasting them, relishing in what you’ve chosen to give to him. Never realizing how good pain can taste until it comes from you, and then he pulls back just slightly.

It was nothing but a long and drawn out act of lying lips against each other. There was no tongue, there were no frantic movements. It was just…a first kiss, that lasted what felt like years to you, and only a split second for Jake.

He blinks down at you, noting the beads of tears bunching up in your bottom lashes and uses his thumb to swipe just under your eye. That view alone of seeing his hand do it was enough to confirm for him that he is no longer chasing. You are his, and never will another person get the chance to look at you as closely as he does. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Jake smiles when he says it, feeling your tears nourish his body. 

You nod, still blinking up at him. 

“In passing, on dates. Never like this though.” You admit in a small voice, feeling a bit shy with the way you feel entirely new when he’s with you. 

“I’ll tell you every day.” He says, leaning down to connect his lips with yours once again solely because he can’t choose between staring at you or kissing you now. 

All of his senses are in overdrive. Kissing you, looking at you, sitting on your couch in your apartment, none of it will ever satiate his need for more, more, fucking more of you. And all of it is happening right there, in front of his camera. 

He can relive this time and time again for the moments he can’t be with you. 

You stay silent after that, alternating between the same long and simple kisses and staring at each other until you can see the sun shift positions in the sky. Sometimes he will say things during this time, sweet and passionate words that only make you feel safer and safer in your own space.

Up until you feel his body shift and his hands pull back to his own body.

You look at him as if he just interrupted a very important moment in your life, and in a way, he did. You could sit with him like this for three hours more if he allowed it, but unfortunately, nature does tend to call. 

“I’ll be back–” He whispers right up against your lips, knowing that you’re already growing familiar with how they feel against you. Smiling when your lips chase him as he stands up. He lends you one more. A quick kiss, one that reminds you that he isn’t leaving you. “Just a second.” He adds in an even smaller voice, heading straight for your bathroom.

You’re still so in awe at how slow the night feels with him, loving every warm second of it. You’re not thinking about anything but him and the way his lips feel. Hell, you haven’t even gotten a full glimpse of him since that first kiss. 

So, of course you don’t notice how he somehow knew which door held your bathroom behind it, or how long he stayed in there. You weren’t paying attention at all as you flop back and do your very best not to kick your legs out of happiness at this moment. 

You finally feel comfortable, even while a threat looms just outside of these walls. You have a boyfriend now, one that appears to be willing to stay beside you through all of it. 

You’re happy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

All good things come to an end but at least this time, it’s temporary. 

The night with Jake felt much needed on both accounts, but it became one sided when your discomfort kicked in. It’s not that you didn’t want him to stay, above all you almost needed him to. 

He was so willing to stay, you could tell just by looking at him sitting next to you with kissed lips and dazed eyes, far too late in the night to excuse what you eventually made happen. He had to go back home.

Again, it’s not because you didn’t want him to stay, it’s because you felt better. You felt so much better that you didn’t think even for a second that Jake wouldn’t come running back over if you so much as hinted through a text that you needed him. Not to mention, upon your anxieties calming, your rational thoughts took back over and reminded you that this was enough. You don’t need him to coddle you more, or to worry for you. 

You’re not entirely ready to let a man sleep in your home, despite very much loving the time you spent with him here. 

After all, you interrupted his day already by asking for him to cater to you. Cater he did, and you wanted to do the same for him. Kissing him one more time with an apologetic look, stating that it’s best if he goes back home for the night. 

You still remember the look on his face when you walked him to the lobby. Reluctance, confusion, even a bit of panic. He needed another kiss, and another kiss you gave. 

His shoulders relaxed at that, and you watched him turn on his heel and head back home to presumably sleep without you. 

And while you slept well that night, thinking of him and how you somehow found a boyfriend amidst all of your fears, Jake was wide awake and reeling from the conversations he shared with you, the kisses, the cuddling, the smell. Fuck, it was so much to face by the time he made it back into his cold and dreary apartment. 

He doesn’t belong in this space, he belongs just across the street with you. But, for your sake…he will continue the patience he promised you. After all, he could see in your eyes that briefly, you considered letting him stay. 

And throughout the night, his calm overtakes him as he rethinks, staring down his camera and trying to decide if he should watch it back until you eventually text him after you wake up. 

He ultimately decides to watch, checking that your lights are off one last time before moving to his PC and plugging in the camera. The first thing he does is fast forward to your first kiss, and then the second, third, fourth…

He rewinds it to watch again, almost feeling that you’re still against him when he presses play a bit too far back in the footage. 

You pull away from him in that moment and suddenly he remembers why.

Before the blissful moments he spent with you, there was a moment of intense and uncontrollable rage within him. When you told him the less-than-detailed story of what your ex did to you, he was expecting it. He knew how to act surprised, he knew how to comfort you, he knew how to make you understand that your past wouldn’t scare him away.

What he wasn’t prepared for was to find out that your fears that he read in your journal were very real. Learning that your ex texted you and that he knew where you were was one thing, but hearing your voice crack upon telling him that he wants to meet with you is another. 

Jake couldn’t have prepared a reaction for that even if he tried. Not one that wouldn’t have scared you, at least. And now, this night of reliving the hours in which it took for him to make you his girlfriend once and for all turned into a night of internet sleuthing. 

Finding the man on social media can’t be that hard. All he had to do was search your name to find your family, which he has done probably a thousand times by now. He knew that within the public posts of your family, this guy had to have been associated somewhere. 

And after three hours of finding nothing, a little hint of who this man is reveals itself. 

So far into his searches, intense googling, and even yearbook studying, he finds an older facebook account of your mother and he slaps himself in the forehead for not double checking the profiles sooner, he could have saved at least two hours if he had found this earlier. 

She must have made a new account after the divorce that she clearly had and shared with the world. It only takes a single scroll with his mouse wheel to find an image of her, another woman, you, and…that man. 

Jake sits and stares at the old image, noting that it’s over four years old. Indicating that you must have been with this guy for a long time. You look happy in the photo, with his arm snaked around your waist and gripping you tight.

Jake, above anyone else, knows that grip he’s got on you. It’s the same one he had on you just hours ago but he tries not to think too hard, prying his eyes away from a happy you with that piece of shit. If he ruminates on this image of you with another man, he very well may resent you for ever letting another man be with you in the first place.

Instead, he has to force his eyes from the younger college version of you and look at the reactions of the photo. 

Of course your mother is the type to have hundreds and hundreds of friends, most that she doesn’t even know in real life surely. The image has seventy three likes, and he goes through each and every single one until he finally recognizes the account of the very man in that photo, holding you, as if it’s his rightful place beside you.

God, safety concerns be damned. He cannot believe that your mother never deleted this account. Your ex probably looks at this photo all the time, he probably gets off on it too. Like he must think that because he had you once, he could win you over again. No.  Jake will see blood before he ever lets that happen. 

Jake rolls his eyes, giving himself a mental note to find a way to tell you that your mother should really watch her online presence if her own daughter’s safety is in danger, and then he continues his snooping on your ex.

One simple google of his name and city and Jake’s got a workplace address. Come Monday morning, you’ll never have to worry about this guy again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Every. single. day. 

Every day you have texted him since the night he left your apartment, and every day he hopes that you force him to be patient with you. Why? Because for the first time, he needs to stay distant for now. 

He kept his promise. Maybe he even overdid it a little bit. 

Given, he knows you’d probably be happy in knowing what happened, he just thinks it would be best not to tell you about it. For now, at least, he doesn’t want you to see the mark above his eye because if you find out what happened, perhaps you’d stop needing him for comfort. Maybe you’d even break up with him since you’d no longer need him. 

He’s going to ensure that you are safe, and he’s going to keep you. 

Unfortunately, Jake is awful at telling you no, awful at living up to his patience, and fucking horrible at staying away from you. When you text him this morning, just two days after he met with your ex, it’s not your usual greeting. 

You: they need me to go to the office today…

God, has he no shame? No. He doesn’t. Never in his life could he even imagine being ashamed to instantly come at your beck and call. Though you have nothing to be afraid of anymore. 

Jake: I’ll walk you there. 

You smile at his immediate act of protection of you. 

You: It’s okay, my manager is already on her way to pick me up. she knows about everything so i’m still safe!

He pauses, trying to look at the bright side of not seeing you. He’s not in fear of your safety like you are, because he definitely took care of the matter, but…under the guise of you still needing it, he doesn’t like that you’re letting someone else protect you on your trip to work. 

Jake: oh

You stare at your phone, feeling bad that you haven't offered him much since he was last at your apartment. You don’t want him to think you’re avoiding him again, or to think that you don’t want to see him but…your manager has a car. If you were to let him walk you to work, you’d just be paranoid of being on the street. 

You’d just feel bad for him to have to walk back home alone. And you’d feel even worse knowing he’d make the same trip to walk you back home. 

You: i don’t want to have to walk to work, even if I know you’d be there with me. It’s just a huge inconvenience for you and a big safety concern for me…

He reads your text and scoffs. Do you still not understand that it’s what he lives for? He would walk across the fucking country if you so much as suggested there was a leaf on the ground that you wanted to look at. It’s not an inconvenience. 

The inconvenience is you giving someone else the right to what he is supposed to be doing for you. 

Jake: it’s ok love, just text me when you get there safe

You pause, unable to shake the feeling of guilt that’s threatening your brain right now. It feels awkward, it feels weird. You’re more than aware to know that he probably wants to prove something to you, especially with such a new relationship but you can’t help but feel like you’re the only person who needs to prove something. 

You need his protection, but you don’t want to exhaust him. That is your biggest fear, even over the idea of your ex finding you. The idea of being wanted by someone you hate hurts far less than the idea of being unwanted by the man who is seemingly upset with you over not getting to walk you to work.

So, you’ll prove to him that this isn’t because he isn’t capable of protecting you. You’ll prove to him that you do want to see him. 

You: Can I see you after i get home? I miss you.

His reactions are always so immediate as he slams his phone against his chest, sighing out of relief that you want to see him tonight. So what if he has a blatant and obvious bruise on his face? He will proudly present it to you, with a lie of course, solely because he knows it’s proof that he would do anything for you. 

Jake: I miss you too :) just tell me when she’s bringing you back to me and i’ll be waiting in the lobby for you. 

For some reason, those little typed words of “bringing you back to me” hits you hard in the chest. It makes you feel warm, happy even, as you head out of your apartment and straight for your manager’s car.

Sure, you might not be walking to work when they need you to come in for a while, but you’ll sure as hell be certain to make it up to Jake every single time. You can practically feel his excitement through his quickly sent texts, and you can’t help but thrive off of it. 

Now, even as you’re worried that you’ll be at work, in a place where he can find you, you feel excited. You’re looking forward to getting to go back home, and looking forward to hugging Jake, and talking to him, and seeing his pretty face. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

  You don’t recall your work days going by this slowly, as you fiddle around your desk wondering why they called you here today in the first place. “For a meeting” Your manager had said. Well that’s all fine and dandy if it weren’t for the fact that the meeting isn’t scheduled until four thirty in the afternoon, the end of the fucking day. 

You could have worked from home and just came in for the meeting if that was the case, but you’re already here and mostly just annoyed that you had to come at all.

You scroll your phone, do some paperwork, scroll some more, more paperwork, and then, just as you open your messages so you can complain to Jake about how stupid this work day is, you pause.

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of everything and everyone around you, and all you can do is sit at your desk and pretend that you don’t see the man across the large room filled with fifty other cubicles, eyes scanning for you. 

The only thing you know how to do is drop to the floor upon seeing that familiar smile. You’re not ashamed when you text your manager, telling her who security just led to your floor. You’re even less ashamed in the way you quickly rush to the back, around a corner, and out the fire escape.

You came to work today to miss not one meeting, but two, apparently. The only reason you even feel safe enough to power-walk back to your apartment is because you know exactly where your stupid handsome ex is, and you know exactly why he’s there.

He’s not following you right now, you’re sure of it. You told your manager exactly who he was before, and she knows exactly where he is now. Surely they’re distracting him, because your manager, bless her, already texted you that she would take care of it and that you should get home quickly.

Insane scenario, really. You should have just called the police, but it’s not like he fucking did anything within these city limits outside of take an elevator to your floor. 

God, how did he even know you were going to be at work today? 

And as you rush into your apartment building, not even knowing how long or how short it took you to get there, you feel your phone vibrate before you even get in the building’s front door.

Jake: why are you home so early, and why did you walk alone? 

Instantly you call him, not thinking even for a second that it’s strange that he saw you come in. If anything, it was probably just a coincidence. He just happened to look outside and you just happened to be panic-walking inside. 

“Come over.” You say, out of breath into the speaker. 

Jake doesn’t even respond, he just hangs up and is immediately rushing to your building as quickly as his feet can carry him, for the first time unsure of what’s going on with you. 

He thinks this may actually be his record time of getting to you even, considering you’re walking up to your door as soon as he steps out of the elevator and rushing up to you.

“What’s wrong!?” You hear his panicked voice from behind you as you unlock your door, stepping inside and grabbing him by the shirt, not even looking at him before pulling him inside. 

“I missed you.” You say, desperate to feel safe again and running entirely on adrenaline as you lift up and kiss him harder than you ever have before.

Jake freezes, feeling your grip on his shirt and your hardened pucker against his lips. He doesn’t relax into it at all, in fact, the way you just grabbed him runs straight between his legs and all he can do is grab your shirt back, pulling you up more, kissing you twice as hard. 

He knew you could be forceful, and somehow this is the last thing he was expecting. Did you rush home alone and call him with that desperate voice because you needed him? Did you finally give in? Does he mean this much to you already?

There are no words in this breathless moment as you let yourself spiral into a void with Jake. Feeling only safe when he’s with you, on you, holding you, touching you. You really should have let him walk you to work. You should have let him stay with you there, you shouldn’t ever let him leave your side. 

You only feel calm when he’s with you, and god you almost hope your ex followed you here so that he can walk in and find you kissing someone else. Someone better.

“What happened?” Jake groans out his words between the harsh kisses that are quickly turning heated. Your grip on his shirt only tightens, and you stumble back to pull him with you. 

You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to explain, you just want to…do this. You need him to give you that brain fog that makes you forget about anything else. 

And it’s the first time he’s ever felt your tongue. So desperate to part his lips, so frantic, so sweet. The new feeling is more than he ever could have imagined, he feels like he’s almost forgotten how to kiss you back at this point. He lets you do all of the work right now, tasting inside of his mouth and fluttering your lashes against his cheek bone when you skew your head just a little bit to kiss him deeper. 

He’s feeling everything at once, and the fact that he’s finally back in your apartment only makes this worse for him. Or maybe, better? He isn’t sure, but what he does know is that if you keep doing this, he won’t be able to hold back. How could he? You’re pulling him, nearly tripping over your own feet just to pull him deeper into the room– right there in front of that same fucking window. 

Your tight grip on his shirt warms him along with knowing this is being recorded, right up from the brief amount of cold air that hit him on his run over. It was freezing, and he left without even throwing on his hoodie. Which is nice and detrimental to his health. It’s like you’re closer than you’ve ever been to him without two layers of clothing on, just this shirt keeping you from gripping his skin instead. 

And he would let you, he would let you grip and claw through his chest to pull him further into your space. If you missed him so much, perhaps he wouldn’t need to hold back. Your kisses are bruising, and the little breaths you take with each tilt to your head drives his heart to tremble in his chest, he’s sure you may not want him to hold it in any longer. 

He’s tasting you right now and only because you’re tasting him first. 

Safe to say, he’s in shock and entirely turned on right now with the way you try to overpower him. He lets you. Yes, yes, yes. Why wouldn’t he? You’re not being shy and your defenses are entirely down for him. 

You continue to stumble back with him, up until your legs hit your couch and he very nearly falls on top of you, but instead he holds steady, watching you fall from the close proximity against his lips with a huff after you hit the soft cushions.

He felt his shirt slip from your fingers in the descent and can do nothing but look at you in pure awe. You look like you want him right now, you look up at him the same way he looks at you.

Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving, and you’re just staring up at him with each breath. 

“Jake?” You mutter in a slight whisper and furrow your brows at your findings upon finally looking at him. In your rush to kiss him and to have him as close to you as possible, you nearly missed it. 

You reach a hand out and see him immediately take it, your gaze still trained on the bruise above his eye. You pull him to you instantly, landing your lips just below his right brow. “Why is there a bruise?”

He pauses to feel your breath hit his brow, entirely forgetting that he is a human being with flesh that can be marked by another. Forgetting that pain exists, solely because the kiss you just landed against that swollen spot felt good. So good.

“Ah–” He chuckles slyly, feeling you repeatedly kiss the area, bruising it more by the force behind your lips. “Dropped my phone on my face a few nights ago while texting you.” 

You smile against it, finding the image endearing before pulling back and taking note of the way he hovers above you, not letting a single part of his body touch you without you prompting it. 

“You should be more careful,” You smile, pulling him down more, until he is forced to use his arms on the back of your couch to steady himself. “Stay like this.” 

He notes how you look so small under him, and he would want nothing more than to stay like this for you. 

“On top of you?” He asks gently, allowing his hungry eyes to fall to a half-lidded stare, he tilts his head and inches back to your lips as he says it, entirely drunk on the image of you against the couch and totally barred from the outside world by his body.

“Yeah,” You sigh at how pretty he is close up, dark eyes taking you in with that deep stare. “Feels like nothing could ever get to me if you’re like this.” 

He nods confirmation. 

“You were scared of being alone today, weren’t you?” He asks gently, pulling back from the almost-kiss and now adjusting you to lay down on your couch, all so he can more comfortably fulfill the request you just asked of him. “Don’t go anywhere without me again, and I'll stay like this for as long as you need me to.” 

You stare up at him and his words as he crawls onto the couch with you, over you. He nudges himself between your legs and only now do you understand what it must feel like to want someone to love. You never imagined you’d let a man be with you like this again, and yet there’s so much truth in his facial expression after he said those words. You can’t help but feel like you were stupid to ever think you could do any of this alone. 

You never could do it alone to begin with.

“I won’t,” You confirm for him, lifting your hand to move a strand of hair that hangs over that darkened bruise above his eye. “So, stay like this.”

And he does, eyes lost as they glance at every part of your face, only closing his eyes to feel your fingers in his hair for that short moment. He lets out a long sigh, trying to keep his lower half from losing control, both understanding and not comprehending that he’s on top of you right now. 

Only now, with his mind racing and skin reacting does he dip back down.

“Alright.” He whispers just before the kiss, intentionally relaxing his lower half and allowing you to feel exactly what you’re doing to him. 

He feels you shift when you feel it, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he presses forward a bit more with his hips, making sure you feel his love for you in its entirety. 

And when your hands find their way into his hair and you hum against his tongue, that’s when he pulls back.

“Sorry,” He admits, looking away from you. “Didn’t know you were going to just– grab me like that and kiss me.”

All you can do is smile at him, refusing to question why you don’t recoil at the idea of a man being turned on. If anything, you give in to the feeling of pleasure yourself. Especially after so long of not only denying it to yourself, but fearing it.

And the two of you just lay there, shifting from time to time to get more comfortable and to ease numb limbs. Just kissing. Just making out. 

Hot, wet, warm kissing. To the point of being out of breath but not yet pulling back. Never wanting to be the first one to break the contact, but always wanting to be the first to dip back in. You feel his excitement throughout all of it, and you feel his patience as well.

He doesn’t even chase when your body arches into his intense kisses, he doesn’t ask for more, and ultimately, it doesn’t matter that your ex showed up at your workplace today. Because you’ve got Jake right here, on you, shielding you, holding you. 

No one can get to you right now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake holds you as you sleep, as tight as he can manage without waking you up. Thinking in his head over and over again about how pretty you are, how perfect you are, how utterly infatuated with you he is. 

He wasn’t expecting you to fall asleep like that, gentle fingers scratching the back of his neck and holding him just as tightly. Whispering to him that you don’t want him to leave this time.

Muttering that you want him to stay. 

He remembers so well how pretty your half-asleep voice sounded, with your half-asleep eyes, and half-asleep legs tangled in his own.

He didn’t sleep. 

No, no. He couldn’t have. He didn’t want to miss a single breath or twitch of your brow as you dreamt. And he really didn’t miss a single one either.

The sun is long gone in the sky by the time his own heavy eyes force him to blink. It’s so dark in the room but you brighten it up for him just fine, with that pretty breath and sleeping face. His gaze falls upon the window as he smiles, hugging you even closer to him just to feel you nuzzle your nose up and against his neck.

He has yet to set foot into your bedroom since the first time he’s been here but that doesn’t bother him. You both fit perfectly on this couch. Forced proximity really lives up to its name in this city, apparently. You haven’t ever been without him, and you never will be. 

He’s more than delighted to–

His thoughts shake the same way your phone does. A vibration sending his mind into a spiral at who could possibly be texting you at this hour if not him. 

The phone lights up the room and he’s very careful to reach for it, smiling when your sleepy brain tells you that he’s reaching over you to hug you closer again, not to grab at your phone that you left forgotten on the table.

He’s so quiet, so careful. 

The screen lights up his face, causing his dry eyes to water until they adjust to the notification. 

A text message.

From an unknown number. 

His eyes fall to you as he tries to remember the patterns of numbers you’ve typed into your phone, only to fail a total of three times before gently shaking you. 

“Love,” He whispers, lying his lips against your forehead. “What’s your passcode?”

“Hmm?” You mumble against him, his shirt bunched up against your own lips. 

“Your passcode,” He repeats in a more gentle voice, trying to keep from waking you entirely. “I forgot my phone at home, and I want to set an alarm.” 

Your sleepy brain barely registers his words, or the fact that he’s lying. You felt his phone in his pocket when he was lying on top of you all night. 

“Ah,” You sigh out, clearing the sleep from your throat as you whisper out the numbers to him, slurring out the last one as you fall right back into your deep slumber 

Jake smiles, dumbfounded yet again by how adorable you are for him. 

Now, with one hand unlocking your phone and the other tracing his name, once again, onto the fabric of your back, he swipes to your messages.

Rage.

Unknown number: so who is the new guy

Unknown number: get me banned from your work then you send him? fought like a bitch

Unknown number: i’ll be seeing you soon babe

Empty threats, he knows they have to be. Blatant lies and empty fucking threats. This idiot can’t do shit considering how battered he managed to leave him. 

He thinks hard about the pain against his knuckles and even harder about how you didn’t note that they’re just as bruised as his eye. Thankfully, you were too enveloped in kissing him to take note of his bruised hands, or the lie about dropping his phone. 

Jake easily deletes the texts and blocks the number, understanding that this little problem of yours is his problem to solve. And the worst part is that he knows exactly why this man wants you back. He hates that he understands the thought process from the root, knowing that if he, himself, couldn’t have you, he’d have to take desperate measures too. As if he hasn’t already. 

He’s similar to your ex, who was far more handsome with blood on his face, and you can never know that. As similar as he is, mirroring the love and abundant weakness he has for you, he would never. fucking. hurt. you. Infact, Jake would set himself aflame before even imagining you crying for him to leave you alone. 

Why would he set himself up for you to fear him? Your ex is a royally vacuous man, at least Jake has the smarts to treat you well. 

Still, he gets it. 

Who wouldn’t want you all to themself anyway? 

You’re Jake’s though. You belong to him and only him, you always have, and that’s the only reason, he thinks, that you’re in this mess. Had you not tried to love someone before him, perhaps you wouldn’t have that little journal filled to the brim with night terrors and body shakes. 

And as he ruminates on whether or not he should pay your ex another visit, this time without holding back, he searches the rest of your messages simply because he is entitled to it. 

Every text you have is from your family and him. Good. 

Your photos. 

Most of you and your family, one specific photo of you. Deep within your camera roll, pressing your tits together, hand grabbing one of them, panties sitting prettily on your hips. 

Who did you send that to? It’s old, your hair is different, but he’d like to hope it wasn’t to the man whose blood he’s currently craving. Still, he feels discomfort in knowing this photo was taken long before he loved you, and long before you loved him. Meaning, whether it was to your ex or not, it wasn’t for him.

His length stirs immediately still, so turned on by the image of you, the feeling of you currently against him, and the internal future promise to feel your ex’s teeth break against his fists. All of it is making his dick ache, as he chews the inside of his bottom lip and easily sends the nude to himself before deleting it from your phone forever. He’d better be the last to see this image of you, and the last to ever feel you hug against him like this. Then, he removes the sent message from your phone to hide the traces of it entirely.

You shift against him at this moment and he pulls back slightly to look at you, quickly closing out your apps, locking your phone, and tossing it to the floor. There, he wraps both arms around you, hugging you so tightly that you do wake up this time. 

“You’re so cute,” Jake mumbles against the top of your head. “Wake up so I can kiss you.”

You smile against him, shifting your head up and finding his lips within the dark room. It’s soft at first, and you assume he’s going to pull back, satisfied with it, but he doesn’t. 

It’s a quick movement, one that causes your sleepy groan to come out as a surprised yelp. He easily moves on top of you again, using his knees to spread your legs so he can lay between them, and his fingers locking into yours, pressing them into the cushion above your head. 

“Sorry,” He pouts, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, sorry.” He continues, kissing down to your jaw, and just below your ear. “I’ve been so turned on all day, please.”

You chuckle, feeling the tickle of his plush bottom lip meeting the sensitive pulse point of your neck. Pleased with how much he wants you, and even more pleased that you kind of…want this too. But, you’re not entirely ready. Even in this perfect atmosphere with the perfect man. Room shielded entirely by night, warm lips kissing you, strong arms holding you…

You’re still not ready. 

“Mm, Jake.” You hum, catching his attention and feeling him move his head back to look at you. “Not yet.”

And then you hear him let out a nervous chuckle, a sigh, and a whisper. 

“Alright, baby.” He pouts again. 

He moves back to your side and hugs you against him, trying not to seem as disappointed as he really is right now before you hear him speak again. You barely hear it, and you barely comprehend it within the comfort of his hug, but you do think you’ll remember it. 

“Then when?” 

Even as you fall back to sleep, you think about it. The fact that he’s already been so patient with you and that you knew it would run out eventually. You’ll lose him at this rate, and these soft arms vowing to protect you.

If anything, Jake has given you everything and you’ve given him nothing. If he finds out that you’ve already spotted your ex at work, he might really run away knowing that no matter what he does, you may never be ready to give him intimacy on a deeper level as long as said ex is around.

You felt how much he wanted you today right up against you. If you were any other woman, you wouldn’t have been able to pretend it wasn’t there. You would have touched him, you would have given yourself to him. 

And god, you want him so badly at the same time. The only thing holding you back is the fear of it hurting. The fear of regression, of dissociation. 

Yet, still, your dream state forces you to promise. You’ll be everything that Jake needs you to be in time, and he will be the only person able to teach you how to love again, the only man that will touch you in a way that feels good.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

part two

taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs

[moon-reblogs]

feelings for you | choi soobin

summary: after catching his roommate and his girlfriend making out, Choi Soobin’s life has been in an awkward standstill where he can’t decide if he should still be upset or move on. never one for confrontation, he still works with his ex girlfriend whose suddenly interested in him again all because he’s shown interest in another girl—his new roommate.

➣genre/au: roommate!soobin x roommate!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]

➣19.3k words

warnings: smut. kinda fluff. soobin is a barista. college grads. oc is soobin’s new roommate. one instant of fake dating. soobin is a whiny drunk. soobin’s cheating ex tries to get him back. soobin and oc friends. cute soobin but he’s a switch. dom soobin in the bedroom. soobin doesn’t like confrontation until the end. oral sèx [f receiving, in the kitchen 🤭] protected sèx. missionary. riding. soobin is subby post-sex. he has an unexplored boob kink. big soobin. jealous soobin but only slightly

When it comes to drama, you want no part of it. You keep your circle small and try not to involve yourself with things that don’t concern you but it’s been hard now that you’ve moved in with your new roommate. Originally, you thought it would be less drama to have a guy you didn’t know as a roommate, aside from the obvious worries Soobin had seemed perfect.

He was quiet and a bit shy but he seemed to have good intentions. You’ve heard him through the thin walls and he laughs when he watches something funny or talks on the phone but he’s not obnoxiously loud. He cleans up after himself and gives you your space so this first week has been good.

You’ve recently started rooming together when you answered his ad in search of a roommate and you’re starting to understand why he was looking for one in the first place.

“So she just dumped you?” You asked, unable to help yourself from being nosy. This is the first time since your first meeting that you’re sharing a conversation with him and it’s about his past relationship—evidently to thank for giving you a room for cheap.

“Basically,” Soobin said with a shrug as he stared at the television where his Nintendo Switch was connected. He was currently playing some Jujutsu Kaisen game that managed to grab your attention when you had come out of your cave for a bowl of cereal.

“That’s crazy,” you mumbled to yourself, turning away from him to wash your dishes in the sink.

Apparently, his last roommate moved out very suddenly considering he slept with Soobin’s girlfriend and things just didn’t work out.

“It’s whatever,” Soobin said, so hyper focused on his game, and saying whatever was on his mind with no attention at all, “Just sucks because I still have to work with her.”

“Wait!” You dropped what you were doing, rushing over to where he was and standing in front of the tv, “So you’re saying you still have to see your cheating ex girlfriend who slept with your roommate at work?”

“Yeah,” Soobin said, making you shake your head in disbelief. Still thinking about his sheer bad luck, you finally left him to his game and retreated to your bedroom to wallow in self pity like usual.

It was all too much to talk about for Soobin. His relationship only lasted about six months but he still can’t believe she slept with his roommate. He thought they all had become good friends but to find out she’s secretly going to his roommate’s bedroom while he’s at work. She would come over and stay while he would leave to work and while he thought she was waiting for him to get home, she’s letting his roommate stick it to her! The audacity, honestly, to do that in his home is ridiculous but thankfully his name was the one on the lease and he got to kick the guy out.

At first it was strange to have a girl move in with him considering he’s only ever roomed with guys and he was supposed to be in his ‘I Hate Woman’ era but you’ve turned out to be better than he expected. Of course it’s only been a few days but you both seem to be hyper aware of the fact that this is something new for the both of you. At least he won’t have to worry about you sleeping with his next girlfriend… or does he?

For another hour or so, Soobin played his game, completely engrossed that not even the pounding on the door for two solid minutes broke him from his trance. It wasn’t until you stormed out of your bedroom once again and headed right to the front door did he realize the person at the door was here for him.

You looked at the guy in front of you, a bit stunned to speak at how attractive he was and for a moment the two of you just stood there looking stupefied. The guy took a step back into the hallway and read the number on the wall which was sure enough his best friend’s apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Soobin asked, suddenly appearing behind you with a hand on the door above your head. Once you acknowledged that this stranger was here for your roommate you quietly made your leave, unaware of the new pair of eyes trailing after you.

“There you go, I didn’t know you had it in you to bounce back so fast,” Yeonjun said, looking to your closed door, “And with a baddie at that!”

“What are you talking about? She’s my new roommate,” Soobin said letting his best friend follow him to his bedroom so the two of them wouldn’t be in the living room and possibly make you uncomfortable. “And what are you doing here?”

“I came to cheer you up, I know its been a rough two weeks and I didn’t want you to think I left you at your lowest,” Yeonjun said, flopping himself down on the beanbag in the corner of Soobin’s room. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a couple bottles of Soju. Soobin released a sigh as he checked the time and read how late it was, “First of all it’s a weekday, second I’m not at my lowest.”

“Right… that’s the Denial stage of grief, don’t worry friend, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you,” Yeonjun said as he got up once again and went to the door, “Remember when you lost Odi? You cried for three weeks straight—“

“That is different! Odi was the real love of my life so don’t compare this to the heartbreak I felt for my beloved child!” Soobin yelled but Yeonjun just brushed him off to leave the kitchen and find glasses—and also hopefully run into you again.

Once he was back in the room, Soobin was sniffing Odi’s old blanket for comfort.

“So are you saying your roommate is up for grabs because she really is hot,” Yeonjun asked, beginning to pour two shot glasses with peach flavored Soju. Soobin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know and considering what happened with my last roommate, I’m not really into inner circle mixing with my friends and roommate.”

“Fair enough.”

Fresh out of school, you’ve been lucky enough to find a small job at the lowest ranking possible while still being in the world of fashion. There certainly are better things you could be doing besides running errands for your boss but as a new college grad with no experience, its not like you could expect more in the fashion world. It honestly wasn’t too bad and your boss wasn’t one of those horrendous bosses that paged their employee at all hours of the day and the pay was good enough to keep a roof over your head so there wasn’t much to complain about.

You surprisingly do have quite a bit of freedom and don’t always feel tied to your work so you’re thankful that you have time to visit your friends. Now that none of you are in school its become harder to fit time to see each other in your schedules but today you got lucky to finish a shoot early and you were able to get off sooner than usual.

Seeing Soobin’s friend the other night worked as a reminder to tell you you’re not a loser and actually have friends to visit too and that’s how you found yourself sitting next to your friend while he played Overwatch at a public game room.

Your computer screen had gone back to sleep mode after you got tired of making random SIMs characters and resorted to spinning in the rolling chair next to him. It was alright for a while but when it had been almost a full hour of this, you couldn’t take it anymore, “When you asked to hang out, I thought we would actually be doing something fun.”

“This is fun, what are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, eyes locked on the screen making you roll your eyes. You’ve been friends since your freshman year of college so his need to pay more attention to his games than you isn’t a surprise but it is annoying—even though your roommate was kind of the same.

When you didn’t say anything, Beomgyu tried harder, “So hows the new living situation?”

“It’s alright, he seems cool and it’s cheap,” You told him, still spinning absentmindedly.

Beomgyu nodded, “Is he a weirdo? Like do I have to worry about you popping up on a missing persons ad?”

“I hope not, but let me share my location with you just in case,” you joked making him chuckle, “But honestly, he seems like a good guy. It was kind of weird at first since it all seemed rushed so i was obviously worried but he explained why and its all good now”

“Spill the tea, why was he in a hurry to find a roommate?” Beomgyu asked, visibly more interested in your story than before, but still gaming.

“His girlfriend slept with his roommate when he was at work,” You said making Beomgyu gasp dramatically.

“Whoa, what a bitch,” he said, “I would’ve fought my roommate.”

“And you would’ve lost too,” you said to him making him kick your chair causing it to roll back a bit. Your laughter began to slowly die down when you felt the vibrations of your ringing cellphone. You checked the caller, surprised to see the man in question’s name on your screen.

“Hello?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had?” Immediately you were taken back by the brightness in his voice. He was obviously being dramatic and you could practically hear the favor he’s going to ask.

“Well it’s not like I have a lot of competition, right?” You asked, hearing the line go silent for a moment making you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that.

Soobin rolled his eyes but wasn’t mad, “Right… So can you do me a favor? I have to meet up with some friends right after work but my phone is about to die and I don’t have a charger. Is there any way you can bring one to my work?”

You thought about it for a moment, “Nobody has one you can borrow?”

“Yes, but there’s no way I’m asking her for it,” he said with an annoyed sigh. He’s already asked everyone and they’ve all pointed him to his ex girlfriend, “Please?”

You looked back at Beomgyu who started playing his game again, forgetting you were even beside him and with a shrug Soobin couldn’t see, you said, “I guess, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Soobin’s attempt to thank you was cut short when you hung up abruptly but he was too relieved to care and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Want me to ask Jia if you could borrow it?” His coworker asked when Soobin got back to the counter. He shook his head, “I’ve got someone bringing one.”

He couldn’t believe he forgot his charger and didn’t realize it until he was halfway through his shift with only 15% battery. When he went to the break room in search of his charger, he nearly lost his shit when he couldn’t find it.

At first he hoped his work bestie, Taehyun, would have one but he didn’t and the only other person to ask was his ex. Obviously he wasn’t going to ask her and although he could try and run home after his shift, unless he were to find an outlet at the place he was going with his friends, his phone would be dead anyway.

Soobin’s last resort was to see if there was any way you could just bring it to him. He left it on the entrance table and must have forgot it when he was putting his shoes on and ran out. He was pleasantly surprised that you said yes and it was such a huge relief that he wouldn’t have to ask Jia.

When you walked into the coffee shop you were immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of espresso beans. It was the first time you ever stepped foot into this cafè but it was calm and aesthetically pleasing, somewhere you can talk with friends or do some work. You followed the scent to the front register where a girl with blonde highlights stood with a polite smile on her face.

With wandering eyes toward the menu above her head, you asked, “Is Soobin here?”

You didn’t notice how that smile fell as she looked at you a little closer and before she could even respond, your roommate came out from behind some door holding a bag of hot to-go cups.

Once Soobin saw you, his heart unintentionally leapt in relief and he quickly set the bag down to go to you. A shy smile spread across his lips, very happy you actually came, “You brought it?”

“Yes,” you said, moving to the side of the counter and closer to where he was, beginning to look through your bag for it. Soobin had his hands on the counter waiting patiently as you two stood a few feet away from where his ex was. “But it wasn’t by the door, you left it on the bed.”

You felt a little awkward to go to his room but he left the door open and you could see it on the bed. Now, you could’ve easily just leant him yours so you wouldn’t invade his privacy but you weren’t going to risk him forgetting it.

“I did?” Soobin asked with a somewhat cute tilt of his head, “Oops, I swear I left it by the door, thanks though.”

When you handed it to him, your hands accidentally touched but neither one of you thought much about it, unaware of the people behind the counter watching the interaction.

“Do you want a drink?” Soobin asked, the least he could do is give you a free drink in thanks plus when he came out he saw you eyeing the menu.

“Sure,” you looked at the menu once again before just saying, “Surprise me.”

Soobin nodded with a smile as he got to making it while you looked down at the pastries in the dessert case.

By the time he was done and gave you the drink, you were ready to leave but before you could, he said, “I won’t be home till late.”

He just meant to give you a heads up that way you knew you had the apartment to yourself and didn’t think about how it would sound to the others.

You left with a goodbye and thanks for the drink and he was left behind to deal with his ex for another three hours.

“So who was that?” Taehyun asked, suddenly popping up beside him, catching him off guard and making him scream. Soobin clutched his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart as he looked at his friend with a dumb expression, “Who?”

Taehyun couldn’t even pretend to be amused and asked again, “The person who you were talking to like ten seconds ago.”

“Oh! That’s Y/n, she’s my new roommate,” Soobin said casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That’s it? I thought you had moved on already, I was impressed,” Taehyun said with a chuckle as Soobin rinsed out the froth pitcher, “I think Jia got a little worried there for a second.”

Soobin stopped as he tried to process what his friend was saying, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna lie it kind of looked like the two of you had something going on at first and Jia asked me if I knew her,” Taehyun told him confidently. Jia left on her break without telling either one of them but now they’re comfortably talking without her around.

“It shouldn’t matter to her anyway,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he moved past Taehyun to help the customer in line. Why does it matter to Jia who he talks to and why does she feel the need to ask Taehyun what he knows? She cheated on him. She betrayed his trust so heavily that he doubts she ever truly cared about him so why is she acting interested or concerned?

Does it bother her to see him talking to someone despite everything she’s done?

It was a couple days later when he realized your short visit to his work which should have been in the past, wasn’t.

Like the other night, he was stuck working with Jia and he had been counting every minute that passed until the end of his shift since it started. For hours they worked and talked around each other but never intercepted even when he could feel her eyes on him.

When they closed the cafè and Soobin was ready to run home and escape her presence, she decided to speak up, “Soobin?”

For a second he debated ignoring her so he could walk straight to the bus stop and not worry about seeing her for the rest of the night. It was hard to always act unaffected as if she didn’t completely disintegrate his entire confidence and practically shove new insecurities, he never wanted to show, down his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to her wordlessly, waiting to see what she had to say.

“I…” she bit her lip trying to figure out how to word her thoughts, “I… um, I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

He resisted the urge to scoff as he answered questioning, “I’m good?”

For the past few weeks he’s worked hard to act like he didn't catch Jia and his roommate kissing on his couch so why was she wanting to know now of all times?

As much as he wanted to go home, part of him wanted to see what was up. Jia met his eyes, still taken back to see his harsh gaze which was a huge contrast than the gentle stare she had grown used to in the last six months.

“That’s good,” Jia cleared her throat awkwardly, “Are you, b-by chance seeing anyone?”

The obvious look of disbelief on Soobin’s face had her rushing to explain, “I mean… the person who came to visit you the other night. Is she, yknow, are you seeing her?”

“You mean Y/n?” Soobin asked with a tilt of his head. Why was she asking about you?

Jia stood there silently trying to figure out what to say next. What was her point? What was she trying to find out by asking him that? Had she expected him to still be mourning their relationship? Does she have a right to feel worried that he’s moved on so quickly after what she did?

Before she could even try to word a shitty excuse for why she asked in the first place, Soobin had already stopped paying attention to her when he got a text.

you: ordered too much pizza

you: I’ll die if I eat more

you: pls take some

For some reason your sequence of texts brought a slight smile on his face. He put a thumbs up on the message and looked at Jia, “Night.”

He left her standing there alone as he ran home to his roommate who was slowly beginning to like more and more. He doesn’t even mean it romantically because clearly now’s not the best time for him but he likes you as a roommate and possible friend? You’ve slowly begun to help each other out and you don’t completely avoid shared spaces so you’ve been interacting a little more. He wouldn’t call you a friend just yet but you’re an easy person to live with and he doesn’t have that many people around him so it’s nice talking to you either way.

The two of you text here and there but never about anything important, usually you ask how to fix the hot water and he sends you anime reels he thinks you might enjoy. If he’s up for it, he’ll ask if you want any pastries he’s supposed to throw out.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

By the time Soobin got home, you had moved from the dining room to the couch where you engrossed yourself into some animated movie laying on your side. You barely raised your head to acknowledge him but he smiled anyway as he headed to the kitchen, “Thanks for sharing.”

“No problem, I overestimated how much I could eat in one setting,” You mumbled in a tired, raspy tone, “How was work?”

Soobin didn’t bother heating up his slice, or even get a plate, and he took a big bite out of the cold pizza, walked out the kitchen to talk, “It was alright, kinda slow aside from some teens who wouldn’t stop giggling at me.”

“Question, was that girl from the other night your ex or someone else?” You asked sitting up a bit when you noticed he was trying to sit down.

“Yeah that’s her, Jin, she also asked about you tonight,” Soobin said seeing it as a joke, “Taehyun said she seemed jealous when I was talking to you.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion, “Did you tell her I was your roommate?”

He shook his head, taking a moment to chew before saying, “No, I didn’t see why it mattered.”

“True, that’s so weird,” You released a sigh, resting your elbow on the arm rest and leaning your head on your hand, “Wow, no offense but your ex girlfriend is a bitch.”

He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face as you said that but he couldn’t disagree—he just would’ve used kinder words. It was kind of funny though and for some reason hearing you say that made him feel better. His other friends who know about it don’t really ask and they don’t explicitly tell him to his face how they felt about his former girlfriend. It just feels nice to have someone listen and be on his side, it made him want to open up more.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to seem mean, I just think its kind of bullshit for her to act jealous because you’re talking to someone. Like, why does she care who I am or how you know me when she cheated on you,” You said, unable to help yourself from speaking your mind, “Even if I was someone you’re talking to, why is she concerned about it? Did she expect you to just always be hung on her despite what she did?”

Soobin had to think about that for a second. That’s the same thing he had originally thought too but he tried to ignore it because it seemed wrong. He thought that maybe he was reading into it too much and Jia wasn’t actually jealous but now that you’re saying it too, he can’t help but wonder. She also talked to him tonight and even at work when they didn’t speak, she was looking at him constantly. She even tried helping him once but he just blew her off to do it on his own. It’s like tonight she was trying to remind him she was still around and that confused him.

“Do you think that’s true though?” He asked. You shrugged trying not to seem too invested but it was too late. Soobin is a good guy and now that you’ve met the girl, you just can’t wrap your mind around what she did. Cheating is already a huge betrayal but to do it with someone Soobin knew and lived with? To do it in the apartment, Soobin paid for? That’s the lowest of the low.

“I honestly do.”

What you said stayed on his mind for days. It didn’t help that Jia was trying to talk to him at work and last night she looked at his instagram story despite the fact they unfollowed each other. He just doesn’t get it. What did she want with him now?

When he came into work today, there was his favorite drink in his locker that he knew was from Jia because Taehyun had told her. Thankfully he wasn’t working with her now but Taehyun had filled him in. Apparently, she came in with drinks and he saw her putting it in Soobin’s locker.

“I don’t get her,” Soobin said with a huff of frustration, “Why does she keep doing these things?”

“Honestly, she probably regrets fucking up and wants to get on your good side again,” Taehyun said as he made a hot matcha latte for a customer that Soobin was ringing up.

“But why?”

“What if she wants to get you back?” Taehyun asked as he finished the drink and handed it to the customer. He turned back to Soobin, realization hitting him like a truck and he gasped, “Oh my god. She probably thinks you’ve moved on already and wants to get you back! That’s really bold of her to think you’d fall for it, right?”

“Right. You don’t think she is though, right? Why would she cheat on me just to try and get back with me?” Soobin asked and his voice was laced with confusion.

“Because she probably thinks it’s going to work and you’ll fall for it. God I knew based off her MBTI that she was going to try something, I could see the determination in her eyes when she saw Y/n.”

Soobin couldn’t help but scoff with a laugh. Why were you the reason Jia suddenly wanted to notice him again? You and Soobin were nothing but roommates, the only time you ever talk is during your daily debriefings when you’re getting midnight snacks. You don’t text and you don’t do anything together so it’s comical that you apparently worried his ex girlfriend enough based off one interaction to try and get him back—he wouldn’t do it, he should add.

“Wait! You know what you should do?” Taehyun dropped a itcher into the sink haphazardly as the idea came to mind, “Imagine if you started dating Y/n and made it known to Jia that you’ve moved on. She’s only putting in effort again because she probably thinks she can get you back. You gotta make her think you’re over her.”

“First of all, I am over her and second, Y/n and I don’t like each other like that,” Soobin said, making Taehyun roll his eyes.

“I don’t mean like actually date, I mean… make Jia think you are that way she can back off and won’t think she has a chance,” Taehyun said.

Soobin froze, looking at his friend in disbelief. Taehyun said it so casually like what he said wasn’t a big deal at all and Soobin just couldn’t believe it. He was completely lost by the whole and after an awkward silence between the two he just shook his head feeling a blush rise in his cheeks as he said, “That is a really bad idea.”

It was an awful idea and too much work. Soobin didn’t need to prove anything to anyone and why would he make Jia believe he was over her when he knew he was? She could try and talk to him all she wants but it won’t make a difference to him, honestly. It is kind of annoying that neither Taehyun or Yeonjun believed he was over Jia and now it seems like Jia doesn’t think so too? Why else would she be making this much effort to talk to him again?

Taehyun’s words were stuck in his head now and it made no sense. Why would he drag you into his problems and why would you want to do it? You probably have things going on in your own life that there's no reason to bother you with his. Sure, you’ve been fun to talk to since you’re not his usual circle of friends but that’s it. You don’t know each other well enough to do that.

“Hey,” when he got home that night, he could tell by the tone of your voice that something was off. You were in the kitchen washing some dishes when he walked in.

“Hey,” Soobin greeted as he began taking his shoes off at the door, “How was your day?”

“It was alright. I almost cried in the bathroom because my boss yelled at me for getting her the wrong milk in her coffee,” you said with a shrug, “And yours?”

“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking slowly trying to figure out if he should ask if you were okay or just say his part. “Um, it was nice, I worked with my friend but he said the craziest thing I had ever heard and it threw me off.”

You dried your hands off with the towel and walked past him, heading to your room but still holding conversation, “What’d he say?”

“He said that I should pretend to date you,” the words completely slipped from his and the second they were said, he felt his body tense up and his face go blank. You stopped at your door, turning to look at his confused state when he suddenly rushed to say, “I mean… She’s been trying to talk lately and I don’t know what she’s doing but it’s like she thinks we can get back together.”

He bit his lip and he just couldn’t stop talking, “So, Taehyun said I needed to make her think I was over her and that I should get your help but I thought it was an awful idea. Like, I don’t need to prove anything to her if anyone else and there’s no way you would ever do something lik—I would never ask you too and I know I should stop talking about it but you asked and for some reason I always just tell you what’s going and I can’t stop, oh my god.”

He covered his face with his hands, unable to see the way a smile played on your lips at his rambling. With a deep sigh you opened your bedroom door, “Goodnight.”

He waved goodbye, still refusing to look at you and stormed to his room in embarrassment. You got in yours and laid in bed where you got on your phone and immediately told your friends.

you: I think my roommate is weird

beomgyu: why

you: idk, just strange

kai: aww, ur twinning w/him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

you: … ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

beomgyu: (⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ ｡ ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)

you: anyway, he was talking about fake dating like this is a wattpad story

kai: do it, his ex is a bitch

Lately, it’s been getting hard for Soobin to look forward to the café. It’s such a huge contrast to the work he does at his internship that going to the cafe sometimes feels relaxing and not like work at all but these past few weeks have been dreadful. It’s very hard to ignore someone who hurt you when you have to work with her. It’s a constant reminder and everyone seems to always point it out. Taehyung was right, she was trying to do something with him again and it’s becoming even more noticeable everytime he goes to work.

“Are you going to Yuna’s party this weekend?” Jia asked him. The shop had been slow so he busied himself with closing duties, hoping he could get done sooner and meet his friend.

“Probably,” Soobin answered absently.

“Oh, maybe I’ll see you there,” Jia said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta be honest, Soobin it’s strange being so distant.”

Soobin scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. What was wrong with her and why did she act like there isn’t a cause for this distance.

Just as he was debating telling her how he felt, the bell above the door chimed and they both got ready to greet them with a customer service smile. His soon turned into a real smile despite his confusion at the surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“I want coffee?” Your tone was questioning but light as you got to the counter, trying not to look at the girl again.

It’s been a bit awkward since Soobin made that weird comment the other night but you’re tired of acting bothered by it. It was harmless and your friends thought it was funny [ and a good idea? ] but you just thought it was bizarre. You think it’s strange and although you wanted to avoid Soobin it’s very hard when you get to know him. He’s kind of cute actually—not looks wise but personality wise.

“Nice,” Soobin said with a nod of his head although he made no move to ring you up or make you a drink. You looked from him down to the register, “Can I order yet?”

“Oh, yes,” he cleared his throat awkwardly and waited for you to say something. Once he rang up your drink, he gave a discount and left to make it while you paid.

Honestly, he thought you were mad at him for what he said. He still has no idea why he brought up what Taehyun said but the way you ignored him let him know it was a mistake at the time. He’s been worried for days that he crossed the line but now you’re here talking to him like everything is normal. It makes him feel better.

You could feel Jia’s eyes on you and this time around it bothered you. Why was she glaring at you like you were the problem? You don’t even know her and it’s very obvious there’s nothing between you and Soobin. Why would it matter to her if there was or wasn’t?

“Are you off already?” Soobin asked handing you your drink over the counter.

You nodded, “Kind of? I still have some stuff to finish up but the WiFi at home is lagging.”

“Just work here then,” Soobin said motioning toward the tables, “Connect to the internet and keep me company.”

“How? You’re working,” you pointed out.

“Nobody’s here,” Soobin said, completely dismissing Jia, “Please?”

Now that he knows you’re not bothered by him it’s been like a confidence boost to try and befriend you again. He just needed the assurance that you weren’t going to ditch him and move out so for you to come and talk to him felt good. He was worried he scared you off.

With a dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, “Oh, I guess I could do that. I’ll just stay a bit.”

“Or you could stay till I’m off and we can go home together,” Soobin said but the sound of the espresso machine grumbling stole your attention instead. Jia was cleaning it already and had no problem cutting your conversation short with the loudness of it.

She was clearly annoyed with you being here and you just couldn’t understand it. Why was she so mad when she’s the one who ruined her relationship with Soobin? Soobin deserved so much better and it annoys you that she’s the one upset now.

“Maybe, who knows if I want to wait that long,” you said playfully, watching him leave the counter to talk to you. You were the only one in the shop and he didn’t care either way, you’re his saving grace from spending this last hour with Jia trying to talk to him.

“Please? I’ll buy you food on the way,” he said, feeling your eyes on him.

He wore a cream colored crew neck and light washed baggy jeans, a brown apron tied at his waist and even his glasses tonight. You don’t see him in his glasses often so it was a nice surprise, “Alright, you got me. I’ll stay.”

What really made you decide on staying wasn’t his begging or his offer to buy you food but it was actually knowing he probably wanted to avoid any more alone time with his ex. You already pitied the guy’s circumstances and you couldn’t just leave him to suffer while he begged for your help.

So you stayed, you had to remind Soobin every now and then to get back to work when he would lose track of time telling you whatever was on his mind and forget a customer was around. Jia did not acknowledge you at all, not until the very end when she came up to you and with a snarky tone said, “Heads up, we close in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” you flashed her a polite but strained smile, “I’m just waiting for Soobin.”

“I know, but you’ll have to leave when we’re closing,” she said bluntly.

“Really? Thanks for the heads up,” you put your headphones back on and turned your attention to your laptop, making it known you weren’t going to talk to her anymore and with a slight roll of her eyes, she left.

After a minute or so, you closed your laptop and put your things away. You got up from the table as Soobin was coming out with things he was planning on restocking and when he saw you get up, he practically dropped it all to go to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just going to wait outside,” you said with a shrug, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“Bu—“

“Soobin, can you start cleaning out the espresso machines?” Jia asked with an annoyed tone and with a huff in irritation, he watched you make your leave till he was alone once again.

He didn’t bother talking to her as he finished up his chores and the cafè was filled with an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the time. He’s been cleaning all evening but Jia wants to remind him about the espresso machines just because she sees him talking to you. It’s crazy and Soobin doesn’t know how to speak up.

He has so much he wants to say but then he gets worried he’s being rude or overthinking things that he ends up just staying silent anyway. That’s probably why his relationship with Jia was so rocky from the beginning—and also why he didn't argue when he caught her. He just doesn’t want to be in uncomfortable situations.

You had honestly debated just going home despite Soobin wanting you to stay. It was freezing cold out and you only had a thin sweater that did nothing to keep you warm. You had every right to just go home but he asked you so nicely and Jia was kind of rude when she tried kicking you out and it makes your pettiness want to show through.

When Soobin and Jia finally finished closing, she waited around while she locked the door looking like she had something to say but he wouldn’t even turn to look at her. Instead, he looked around for you, worried you had left already but he found you sitting on the curb, surprising him in the process. Jia didn’t seem to see you there either and it was hard for her to hide the look of displeasure when you got up.

“So what are you feeding me?” You asked, hugging your arms around yourself to fight off the cold wind from the winter air. Soobin didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket, leaving him only in a crewneck and pulling it around you.

“Something warm?” He asked, looking at the tip of your nose which was a deep shade of red. The two of you left without so much as a goodbye and when you were out of earshot he added, “Also, thanks for waiting. I thought you would’ve left and now I feel bad that you had to wait outside. I would’ve said something but you were already leaving and I assumed you got mad and went home.”

“I was going to,” you said honestly as he held the door open to some Korean hotpot tent restaurant, “But I decided against it. Also, I’ve got something to say.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, sitting down at a table across from you.

“I can tell you struggle a little bit speaking your mind and she talks to you like she still has a say over what you do,” you said to him, “And she was kind of rude? Like, she didn’t say anything mean to me but it’s obvious she doesn’t like me for talking to you and I don’t think that’s fair. So, is there any way we can make her know you don’t want her without you having to tell her harshly?”

It took him a moment to process everything you had said in such a short time and he wondered if you had said anything at all. Maybe he imagined you saying that because it’s been in his mind lately and he couldn’t see what you would gain anything from it so why would you help him?

He should just tell you it’s not something you have to do. If you were to go along with a charade just so that it looks like he’s moved on from his ex. He knows he has, he just can’t be mean. All he can do is ignore her but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Jia from approaching him. No, it still doesn’t mean he has to drag you into something useless.

“Well, there’s a party this weekend that I know she’ll be at.”

Pulling it off was harder than you had originally thought and there’s very specific reasons for this.

One, appearing as anything aside from friends or roommates was hard considering you were still at an awkward stage of friendship. You knew Soobin and how he looked in the mornings but you’ve no clue what his favorite movie is or favorite color or even his zodiac sign. You knew his ex girlfriend was a cheating bitch but you don’t know what his internship is or what his major was in college so when someone at the party asked you things about Soobin… you had no idea what to say.

Two, you’re not sure if the chemistry is there. So far, you don’t think you’re pulling it off. Sure, Soobin has remained at your side since the two of you got here but you think you both look stiff and nervous. Even when someone expects him to introduce you, it feels weird and you’re not sure how close you’re supposed to seem.

“You two suck,” Taehyun said [the first time he had ever spoken to you too], “Put some flavor into this. Hold hands, act cute, give me emotion because I can tell you right now, Jia won’t think she’s got competition.

Soobin rolled his eyes, “Shh, this is harder than we thought it would be— a-nd it’s not about competition.”

“Really? Because Yuna asked me who you brought because Jia was asking her, something about you not wanting to talk to her?” Taehyun said with a chuckle, “It’s like she’s completely forgotten what happened.”

You hadn’t spoken up once this entire time but Soobin was beginning to look visibly uncomfortable talking about his ex in a crowded place. Usually he’s open when you’re at home and you’re the only one listening to him but right now he keeps glancing around anxiously.

“Should we get a drink?” You asked him suddenly, watching him nod his head eagerly in an attempt to leave his friend who said too many things he didn’t want to hear right now.

“Sorry for him, he just says things sometimes and—“

“It’s alright,” you laughed softly, making your way to the kitchen where the countertop was filled with various bottles. Soobin was right behind you, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

He doesn’t understand you. You’re so nice to him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. You don’t question him or make him talk when he doesn’t want to. You seem to have some understanding of what he wants and he doesn’t even have to tell you anything.

He knows you’re just helping him out so he doesn’t look like a sore loser at a party he knows his ex-girlfriend is at but for the moment, he wants to forget Jia is here. Can he just have one night where his past relationship isn’t brought up by Taehyun or Yeonjun or anybody else? Can he just pretend like the two of you are here as friends just hanging out and not because you somewhat pitied his circumstances?

“You look pretty tonight,” the words slipped before he could stop himself and he immediately turned red in embarrassment, “I mean… yknow…”

“Thanks,” you said casually as you filled a cup of whatever interested you, “I actually put in effort, just for you.”

You didn’t think much about what you said even though you could see the blush in his cheeks. It was a bit surprising actually. At first, you thought Soobin was just some distant gamer you shared an apartment with but little by little you’ve gotten to know him more. He’s still shy like you first assumed but he’s also kind of cute, as a friend you mean. It would be weird to think of him as anything but that considering what he’s gone through lately.

He couldn’t help but smile, trying to hide it by biting his lower lip but his dimple still showed through and for a second he just stood there looking at you. You handed him a drink and as he opened his mouth to say something else, a familiar feminine voice came from behind him.

“Soobin? Is this where you’ve been hiding all night?” Yuna asked as she entered the kitchen with a smile, “I kept hearing everyone say you were here but I couldn’t find you. Hey buddy.”

“Hey Yuna,” Soobin said with a smile. Yuna was one of the few other baristas from work and someone he did enjoy working with. She was bubbly and nice so they got along easily but she’s more friends with Jia than him. He still can’t tell if she knew Jia cheated on him or not and he hasn’t bothered saying anything. She knew something happened to make them break up but neither have gone into it for different reasons. He didn’t want to tell the whole world he was cheated on and Jia didn’t want to seem like the lying cheater she was.

“This is Y/n,” Soobin said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward his side, “She’s my uh, um…”

“Friend,” you said, emphasizing on the word that it sounded like it had a double meaning and he couldn’t tell if you did it on purpose. Did you mean friend, like how he’s friends with Yeonjun and Taehyun? Or did you mean, friend, like something more?

While he tried to decipher it, Yuna seemed to pick up on the tone much faster than he did and her smile strained slightly. “Really? That’s, uh, that’s great. Have you seen Jia yet?”

“Who?” You asked Soobin, looking cutely confused, feigning innocence as you touched his arm.

“The girl from work,” Soobin said despite you already knowing. The room began to feel hot as Yuna stared at you and Soobin couldn’t take the heat. He didn’t like the way it seemed like she was trying to pick you apart with her eyes—probably seeing if there was anything she should tell Jiw and he couldn’t take it. It had him taking big sips of his drink to satiate his dry mouth, completely ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol.

“Binnie,” your use of a nickname nearly sent him in a spiral, it was the first time you’ve ever called him as such and there was a possibility it was all for show.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Yuna to turn to you.

“Don’t drink so fast, okay?” Concern was evident in your tone but you didn’t seem displeased. You just worried about having to haul a 6-foot-something drunk man back to your apartment when he wasn’t your boyfriend.

He looked down at his empty cup, realizing he really did chug back the full drink quickly and the thought alone made him dizzy. He’s usually good at knowing his limit but he’s been nervous all night. When you first got here he got a drink that emptied out right after he saw Taehyun for the first time. It was before Taehyun had even approached you two because he was in the middle of some game but it made Soobin nervous. He had to tell his friend ahead of time that he was bringing you but then the thought of Taehyun saying something he should had him anxious and he chugged his drink then too.

Now, Yuna’s here bringing up Jia once again and on top of that you’ve called him a friend but your tone sounded different than usual and you held his arm and called him Binnie—and it all just became too much.

What was wrong with him?

“Soobin?” You said his name a little while after the kitchen encounter and you sounded so distant despite standing right next to him. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was at least tipsy.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bit lazy and he just seemed less stiff than earlier. He’s also leaning into you a bit, no longer caring who saw or what people thought of it but more so for a sense of comfort as his vision blurred with the alcohol in his system. “Hm?”

“You okay?” You asked as he blinked slowly, “You don’t seem as nervous anymore.”

“Oh! Um,” he looked down at you and how close the two of you had grown, making him grin, “I’m fine, I’m with you.”

“Okay… but let me know when you’re ready to call it a night,” you said with a small yawn and he couldn’t help but look to your lips, blinking away the thought as you pressed your lips closed and looked off in the distance.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts a bit but right now everything seemed fuzzy. The night had been fine at first. He hadn’t been nervous at all and was actually a bit excited to get a chance to hang out with you [aside from the night you stopped to get food] and he had been thinking on how it would go all day.

When the two of you got to the party he had met up with Taehyun and he had a good time with him too so the only time he ever felt uncomfortable was when he was reminded of the situation. Talking about Jia didn’t bother him as much as the reminder that everyone knew about it did. On top of that, anytime someone looked at you or asked who you were, he would get nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him.

Just as you were going to ask him one more time if he was okay, you felt a sudden weight pressed against your shoulder as Soobin leaned into your side. He felt heavy against your arm and his head dipped low enough that his face was pressing into yours, “I think I’m ready.”

“Ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race as the warmth of his breath fanned your neck and his hand brushed against yours like he was debating reaching for yours. When you looked at him, it was finally noticeable that whatever he drank tonight had taken effect and he was finally drunk. He’s more quiet than you expected. His cheeks are red with a blush and his lips a bit pouty making him look a little cute.

He nodded his head aggressively, “Let’s go home.”

You didn’t question his decision and took his hand in yours when he swayed in his step and looked around for his friend so they could at least say their goodbyes. Every now and then you would look back to see how he was hanging but he seemed perfectly content having a blank mind and being dragged behind you.

“Soob? You good there, buddy?” Taehyun asked once he saw his friend’s state of drunkenness and placed a soothing hand on his tall friend’s back.

“Yesh,” Soobin said, leaning into your back, “Going home.”

Taehyun looked over at you with concerned eyes, “Are you alright? Sorry, I think he had too much to drink.”

“I’m good, the last bus will pass soon so we’ll just get home that way,” You told him, scanning the people around at the party, eyes catching on the one person you didn’t care to see.

Jia didn’t shy back from your short eye contact and she looked far from happy at the way Soobin was clinging to you—something he never did with her. To be fair, Jia was usually the one out at parties and getting wasted so she didn’t give him many chances to be the drunk one with no worries.

It bothered her to see how comfortable Soobin had gotten with another girl after their break up.

“Alright, i’ll give you my number and just let me know if you two get home safe,” Taehyun said before leaning closer into you, “Also, Soobin really likes being around you. Be safe.”

His friend left after that and for a moment you thought about what he just said, wondering how he meant it and if you were too hard into it.

“Y/n,” Soobin whined against you, “Home, please.”

“Oh my god, okay, let's go,” You said with a small laugh as he followed after you as got to the door.

Soobin was tired, he always got sleepy when he drank too much and when the two of you got on the empty bus, he couldn’t help but rest his head against the window. You didn’t pay much attention to him on the ride home but every now and then he could feel your eyes on him probably wondering how he was holding up. Going up to your apartment was another challenge trying to drag Soobin up the stairs without stumbling up the steps.

“Thanks,” Soobin yawned cutely as he rubbed his tired eyes, waving you goodnight.

You went to your room silently, flashing him a smile as you left and once your door was shut, you immediately began to undress. It had been a long night and all you wanted was to crawl in bed, scroll in your phone and go to sleep. You didn’t drink as much as Soobin did so the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on you but you were still tired. It was nice getting to hang out with him for a while despite the reason or who was around. At some points you were able to forget who was there but when you would catch sight of Jia and think back to Soobin, you just couldn’t understand why she would ever do that to someone.

Now changed into your pajamas, too tired to do anything more, you were halfway crawling on your bed when there was a soft thud on your door and a small whine of your name, “Y/n.”

“Yes, Soobin?” You asked with a sigh and a smile as you heard your roommate on the other side of the door, “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I’m not tired, can I come in?” He asked and you could practically see the pout on his lips. It was about midnight so you should just turn him away but you could hear the shuffling on the other side of the door and before you knew it, you were unlocking your bedroom door and letting him in.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as he hesitated to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Nothing,” he answered honestly, “I just… I wanted to see what you were up to, were you going to bed?”

“I was probably just going to be on my phone a bit,” you laid down on your usual spot reaching for the remote to your television, “What should I watch?”

You didn’t outwardly tell him to lay down next to you but the way you moved your things to your side, it was easy to assume you didn’t mind. Soobin was still hesitant to lay down with his back against your headboard but once you made no sign to kick him out, he let himself relax as you scrolled through Netflix.

“Something scary,” Soobin said, barely paying attention as he looked around your bedroom. This was the first time he had stepped into it since you moved in and it looks completely different than what it did before. He couldn’t explain into words but it looked like a room you would have. It was like an insight to who you are from the pictures on your walls to the clothes by your closet. It was cozy and your bed was so soft he found himself yawning.

“You surprised me tonight,” You told him as you finally settled on a movie about a haunted house, “First because you were surprisingly popul—“

“Why’s that a surprise?” Soobin asked, slightly more alert as he looked at you, “I’m a catch.”

“You are,” you said casually, “I just meant… a lot of people like you.”

He couldn’t help but bite his lips at your words. He didn’t mean to seem overly confident or anything but he knew he was somewhat likable. He tried being nice and friendly to everyone and clearly sometimes that didn’t work in his favor when it came to relationships but he’s always had people around him. Not everyone he would consider a real friend but the ones he have right now or the real deal.

Taehyun and him got along from the moment they met at work. Soobin’s the one who trained Taehyun when he first started and they just got super close from there.

Yeonjun has been his best friend for as long as he can remember and they even fight like an old bickering couple too.

Sometimes they don’t understand him—like when they thought he was still upset over Jia, and he needs a break from them but that’s where you came along. You’re one of his friends now too so does that mean you also like him?

As a friend?

As more?

No, not as more. He was getting ahead of himself.

“Don’t say those things to me, Y/n,” Soobin whined, hiding behind a pillow.

“Why?” You asked with a small laugh as he curled himself up on your bed, looking every bit out of place in your Sanrio bed sheets and his tall frame.

“Because, they’ll get to my head,” he confessed, sitting up a little to regain himself, “So what’s the other reason you were surprised by me?”

You hummed in thought, “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re drunk, and really clingy.”

It was clear that throughout the time it took to get home, Soobin had sobered up enough to have clearer thoughts and you just wanted to be honest. It’s what you believed and you hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think you were hitting on him. Sure, Soobin is attractive for many reasons and you enjoy hanging out with him but just think about the circumstances. He’s your roommate and he just got out of a relationship with someone who cheated on him.

“I mean,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, acting like you were watching the movie, “I bet you really sold it to Jia that you were seeing someone. There’s no way she’ll try and get you to go out with her again now.”

At the reminder, Soobin seemed to sigh, “Yeah.”

For a second he had thought you were going to say something else. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment and it worries him but at the same time it’s exciting and he wished he didn’t react this way to you and so soon.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, letting out a small yawn as you made yourself more comfortable indeed the covers.

“Only in the afternoon,” Soobin said, looking over at you hopefully, “Why? Do you want to do something?”

“I have to work, if I get off early I might stop by,” You said, looking back at him too. You could see the small dimple in his cheek become more prominent as he resisted the urge to smile, nodding his head.

With a small sigh, Soobin checked the time and sat up, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”

For some reason he wanted to do or say more but he’s not sure what he would’ve been able to say in the first place. You got up after him so you could close the door on his way out but at the door, you both stopped to look at each other.

“I did have fun tonight,” you told him truthfully.

Soobin stood at the door looking down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth. It was becoming more obvious that he liked being around you. He thought you were pretty and fun to be with and you have yet to make him feel poorly. He’s very aware of the fact that he’s only been single for a little over a month but he can’t deny the sudden race in his heart when you’re around.

It scares him to think he might be feeling something toward you at such an awkward time.

“Goodnight.”

Things slowly began to change between you two and neither one of you knew what to do about that sort of thing. On one hand, Soobin wanted to see if you would like to spend more time together but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready. It has nothing to do with how he felt toward his ex girlfriend and more with how he felt at possibly seeing someone again.

Jia was a major push to his confidence and definitely raised his insecurities and trust issues so he thought he would stay single for a while. Plus, you were his roommate which could pose an entirely different problem and yet none of that has helped him stop thinking about you. It’s been days from the party and he knows hes been slightly more in your bubble than before but its only because he doesn’t know how to read you.

How is he supposed to know how you might feel about him and how should he feel about it?

“You’re overthinking it,” Yeonjun said as he sat across from Soobin and Yeonjun who were in their matching brown aprons as part of the cafe’s unofficial uniform. The cafe was empty aside from a couple college students grossly immersed in their studies to care that the only two workers were currently siting at a table with a friend. Every now and then the three would feel the eyes of some high school girl gawking at them through the shop windows but none dared to enter making the cafe slow with traffic.

“If you like her, why can’t you at least try?” Yeonjun asked him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because she’s my roommate and what if that just messes things up completely?” Soobin asked.

“I mean, Y/n seemed pretty into you at the party,” Taehyun said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Soobin shook his head, “No, she was just being nice. I was drunk and probably embarrassed myself so there’s no way she liked it—well, okay she said it was cute, but do you think she meant it?”

Yeonjun reached across the small table and pinched Soobin’s cheek hard, pouting his lips in a kiss as he gushed over his friend, “Of course she meant it, just look at you. Who can resist this bunny face?”

Just as Soobin was ready to fight Yeonjun off, the familiar bell above the door rang and a loud burst of energy came through the door.

“Kai, I swear to god, if you don’t stop I’m going to bite you,” a guy said as he smacked another guy off and the two cafe workers couldn’t help but snap into attention and get behind the counter.

“Y/n,” Kai said with a forced whiny voice, “Save me.”

“Don’t touch me,” you pushed him off as you looked around the cafè for Soobin.

Just a couple feet away from you, he stood there with his lips parted in surprise before letting his eyes drift off to the two guys behind you. A smile spread across his lips as he left Taehyun and Yeonjun to go to you, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

“We were just at the arcade across the street so I figured why not stop for a drink?” You said with a gentle smile that had him practically giggling.

“Oh, so you didn’t come just to see me?” Soobin teased, a flirty undertone in his voice. He couldn’t help but glance back to the guys, curious who they were.

Since you moved in, you haven’t brought anyone home and he assumed you were single since you offered to go with him to a party—and let him on your bed, but now he’s not sure. What if everything you were doing really was as a friend and he’s just overthinking it all?

“Sadly no, I really need coffee,” you joked as he went to the counter to get you a drink. Taehyun was helping the two guys while you talked to Soobin and he couldn’t wait to be done so he can ask who they were.

“O-oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he began to make it, ringing you up and trying to apply some sort of discount so you wouldn’t have to pay full price. Before he could tell you your total,one of the guys who was with you gave him cash to pay.

Beomgyu placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Is this him?”

You just nodded your head ignoring his growing smile as he thanked Soobin for his change back and ruffled your hair, “Hurry up, I need real food.”

“Are you gonna be home later?” Soobin asked as the guys left through the door, waiting outside but looking in and it was clear they were talking about you. He wanted to say he was just curious for no reason but part of him wanted to know if you would be out with them.

“Probably, not till late though, I think we’re probably gonna go have a drink or two,” you said with a shrug and this was the perfect time for Soobin to ask who they were. Were they just friends? Was one of them something more? Have you been in any relationship?

“Let me know if you want me to pick you up,” Soobin said, “I-I mean, yknow, repay the favor from the other night that I embarrassed myself.”

“You didn’t,” you rolled your eyes looking around. Your friends were waiting and you had your drink so you should’ve left by now but instead you’re looking at his two friends. Taehyun had gone with Yeonjun again and it’s the first time in a while you saw Yeonjun. When you first met him he had gone over to the apartment and you had thought he was attractive. You still do but not in the same context anymore. Taehyun waved at you enthusiastically which you did back and looked back at Soobin, “It was cute, but should I call you tonight then? Or will you be asleep.”

“I’ll hear you come home either way, so come say hi even if it’s late,” Soobin said, making you nod your head.

“Okay, well I have to go before they come and drag me out,” you told him as you pointed to your two friends who were getting annoyed waiting out there.

“Y/n,” he called for you but when you looked back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Nevermind, be safe.”

Soobin waved you goodbye and watched you leave with the guy from earlier wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“God, Bin, you can’t even hide it,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle as Soobin joined them again, “You looked jealous.”

“What?” Soobin looked at him with big doe eyes, looking every bit clueless as he felt, “No, I just—I don’t, um, Y/n’s… did I?”

They both nodded their heads and Taehyun said, “Yes but not too much. We noticed because we’re your best friends but I’m sure none of them could tell. You were all smiley and blush which is major cringecore with Y/n but any time you looked at those guys, you’d glare.”

“I don’t glare,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he stared at the window, “Besides, I don’t know if one of them is dating Y/n so there’s no point in doing anything now.”

“You didn’t bother to ask!?” Yeonjun and Taehyun asked at the same time that it caused Soobin to jump, feeling startled.

“I’m sorry but if I was into someone and I was in their bed and then I see them talking to someone, you better believe I’m going to ask who!” Yeonjun added, making Soobin groan in frustration that he couldn’t just man up and ask.

It’s clear there’s no point in pretending he isn’t catching feelings for you and he has to figure out how to tell you. The only problem is if you reject him, he won’t be sure how to live with you anymore—especially if you were to date someone.

He should’ve just acted curious and asked who they were.

“You guys are so annoying,” you said with a groan as you followed after your two best friends who were fighting down the street.

“Soobin and Y/n, kissing in a tree! K-I-S-S—ow, ow, ow!” Kai cried out as you pulled his ear.

“This is why I don’t tell you guys anything,” you said when they laughed. Kai was doing that creepy evil loud laugh he always does and Beomgyu is just instigating it.

“First of all, you tell us everything,” Beomgyu pointed out, “And what’s the problem? Pretty sure he likes you too.”

“Oh my god, I don’t like Soo—I mean, he’s my roommate, it would be weird,” you said, “Plus, he just got out of a relationship.”

“Yeah like two months ago or something, and she cheated on him,” Kai said before clutching his chest, “You could heal his heart.”

“Corny,” Beomgyu yelled and the two laughed again.

“Whatever, let’s just go eat.”

It took a lot of convincing from his friends for him to actually agree to just go for it. He had been debating it for a while now and each day that passed where he gets to see you first thing in the morning or last thing at night just reminds him he wants to keep seeing you. He’s not sure how much more he could go just acting like a friend.

He likes everything about you and he’s not good at hiding it. Usually, it takes him a while to fall for someone.

When he met Jia its because they were partners in chemistry one semester and she helped him get the job at the cafe so he could make more money aside from his internship. Truth be told, Jia kind of scared him at first because she never hid her interest from him. She was aggressive with it and he didn’t know how to react so he never made a move on her.

She’s the one who had to ask him and even then, he didn’t say yes right away because he hadn’t been sure if it was something he wanted to do. Over time he obviously grew feelings for her but the relationship never felt as easy as his friendship with you did.

So really, the realization of how differently and strongly he felt for you in such a short time was an indicator that he clearly had strong feelings for you.

When he got home after the cafe, he had a strong sense of confidence that was going to be his push to just go for it. He had been talking himself up all day and had decided the worst thing that could happen is you say no. He could live with that… maybe.

“Y/n?” Soobin called out to you as he dropped his things at the door, “You home?”

You were in your room reading some poetry book with music playing quietly and he knocked on your open door. You looked up at him, sliding your headphones down to your neck, “Hey.”

You sat up a little, motioning for him to come inside and he looked around nervously, “Are you busy?”

“No?” You smiled as you looked down at your book, “What’s up?”

Soobin bit his lip in thought as he tried to figure out how to word it before saying, “Do you want to… I don’t know, get food? Maybe go for a walk later?”

“Um, sure?” You said with a racing heart, “What time?”

“Um, an hour? Forty five minutes?” Soobin asked, more eager now knowing you’ll hang out with him, “Thirty?”

“In thirty minutes?” You asked, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna change and probably, uh,” Soobin blinked nervously, “Get ready.”

“Okay,” you laughed softly as he nearly stumbled out the door. Once your door was shut, you jumped out of bed and straight to your vanity where you hoped to make yourself look a little better.

This wasn’t a date.

Soobin didn’t ask you out, he just asked you to get food.

How would you feel if he were to ask you on a date? Would he ever do that or does he only see you as a friend? For all you know, he’s sworn off dating completely.

When you left with Soobin at your side, things were normal. You talked about normal things, laughed about normal things and for a while you were able to forget your worries. You were just spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with without thinking every little thing over nonstop.

“So what’s your type?” Soobin asked so suddenly that you nearly choked on your water. Usually he’s not so forward with his questions so it caught you off guard. The two of you were at a small restaurant and it felt oddly like a date when he asked you things like this.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you said, “Um, I’m not sure if I have a type. The people I’ve been with in the past have all been a little different, I think.”

“What about looks?” Soobin asked, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He knows he’s an attractive guy but what if he still wasn’t your type?

You laughed softly, “I don’t know, Binnie, I like who I like.”

Soobin couldn’t help but blush, as he finally decided to ask, “What about me?”

You looked at him curiously, trying to decipher what he meant and when he couldn’t meet your gaze, you said, “You?”

“Am I your type?” He asked quietly. The server brought your meals which worked as a distraction to give you time to calm your beating heart and you took a deep breath.

It was hard to say because as of now… yes. You’ve always thought Soobin was attractive and kind and you’ve never actually dated someone like him so to say he’s your type is weird when you’re not sure if you even have one. You like Soobin, you know you do but what would it mean if you answer this question and what does he expect you to say?

“I think so,” you said shyly, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. Soobin resisted the urge to smile and ask you more about how you might feel for him.

He tried not to bring so much up while you had your late dinner and when the bill came, it became another topic of discussion.

“Soobin, you paid last time,” you said remembering the time you went to get hotpot last time, “Either I can pay or we can split the bill.”

“I asked you to come out with me,” Soobin said, getting his wallet out, “So I’m going to pay.”

“Binnie,” you said to him, watching him set money for the bill and a little extra for a tip before standing up, ready to leave. The server took the money and bid you both a goodnight.

“Y/n,” he used the same whiny voice you had, “Next time I’ll let you pay, I promise.”

Part of him wanted to reach for your hand as you left the restaurant but instead, he said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”

You have to admit, Soobin is really making your heart flutter in a very confusing way. You thought about taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the park across the street but you decided against it, unsure if it was something he wanted.

The night of the party when you held his hand, he made sure to not let it go even when you were on the bus but maybe it was just because he was drunk and not feeling good?

“So let’s go on a walk then,” you said, taking the reign to hold his hand, trying not to think about it.

Soobin smiled widely as he happily held yours, swinging them a little, “Y/n, I just want to say, you’re one of my best friends.”

He’s not sure he’s ever been able to call someone he’s dating his best friend. His past girlfriends never really cared to get to know him or have the same interests which wasn’t necessarily a problem but you’ve become his friend first and he thinks that’s what helped him develop feelings for you. You liked the same things, you enjoyed each other’s company and you never made him feel weird no matter what he did. He was being honest when he called you his best friend, it’s just that he wanted you to be more too.

“Who’s my competition?” You asked, waiting for him to say Taehyun or Yeonjun but he just shook his head, fixing your hands so your fingers were intertwined.

“You don’t have any,” Soobin shrugged, staring ahead at the path of street lamps, feeling a slight chill in the night air.

After a while the two of you decided to take a seat on a bench nearby, just under a streetlamp that casted down on it like a scene from a movie. You couldn’t help but shiver under the cold yet neither one of you brought up possibly going home—as if that would end the chances of spending time together.

Soobin felt you shivering beside him and without wasting too much time pondering, he scooted closer to you until his side was pressed to yours and provide you with much needed warmth. You looked at him with a teasing a smile, “So what you’re saying is, I’m actually your only best friend. I’m not sure if Taehyung or Yeonjuun would like that.”

He smiled cheekily, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, I don’t really keep it a secret that you’re my new favorite person.”

“Oh wow, what an honor. What did I do to deserve that?” You asked with a playful tone, trying to hide the way your face began to heat up.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking over at you with soft, moonlit eyes, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure what to even say and you just looked into each other’s eyes, wondering if you were thinking the same. You were so close now and it was getting very hard to ignore when you couldn’t look away from him. Soobin was hesitant for a long while, debating if he should just go for it.

There were a millón things running through your mind, some about kissing him, or not kissing. Wondering if you should cross the line or give him space. You turned to face him, lips parting, “I—“

It happened rather quickly, the brush of his lips against yours, and you hadn’t fully thought it through when you kissed him back. There was a sudden sense of bliss that caused him to relax into the short kiss, melting into you when your lips moved against his.

His fingers lingered on your thigh, itching to deepen the kiss with a hand in your hair. Just as he was going to reach out, you pulled away abruptly, nearly leaving him to follow and his eyes snapped awake, unaware when he closed them.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” You whispered so quietly he could barely hear you. It didn’t stop his heart from dropping with clarity, “Oh”

You were rejecting him, even if you kissed him too.

“Binnie, I just—I like you but,” You bit your lip nervously, ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Oh,” he slumped back, giving you more space, “Why? Because we live together?”

“Yeah,” you sounded regretful, “And you haven’t been single for long and I just don’t want to be a, um…”

“You think it’ll be like a rebound?” Soobin asked with a small scoff, “Y/n, I… I wouldn’t do that to you, I want to try with you.”

“But, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to become a real thing, and it ends badly and we can’t talk anymore,” you confessed, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Soobin said, “I get it.”

He doesn’t.

Silence filled the space between you and neither one of you knew what to do about it. The awkwardness was already beginning to settle and he didn’t want that at all. A sorry smile spread across his lips, “You’re still my favorite person.”

A laugh left your lips, an ounce of worry disappearing but you still felt awful. You liked Soobin, and you were always such a sure person but when it comes to relationships you can be doubtful. You never know their full intentions and although Soobin is a really good guy but you haven’t known each other long and he was just in a relationship not that long ago.

After a while he asked if you should head home and the walk back was a bit quieter.

Honestly, you really did like Soobin. You never thought of him as anything more than a friend but not because you wanted to friendzone him but because you I never thought he saw you as anything but. Maybe you thought you would be the one rejected that you never thought about him romantically. He was attractive and you always knew so but you just seemed different at the time.

You were friendly, you talked nicely to each other and to only been a while since you started hanging around him. You assumed you were the only one feeling this way and its strange to learn that’s not true.

How would you have guessed he had feelings for you? Sure, he was nice from the getgo but it had always been casual. The only time e acted differently was when he was drunk and even then you assumed it was because he was too drunk to remember. Sheen he crawled into your bed after, it are your heart race but nothing happened between you two and it was never mentioned again. You grew to like him but you had no idea he would start liking you too.

It was a flaw in your character design, you think. You have no problem making decisions and being more confident and in control with it came to other things but for some reason when it comes to yourself, you’re doubtful. It’s easy for you to catch on to feelings when it comes to others but yourself.

That’s not to say you’ve never been in a relationship with someone but you’ve always just struggled reading how someone feels about you. Now you feel awful thinking you read Soobin’s intentions wrong but you couldn’t help it. You know what it feels like to be a rebound and its not a feeling you want to go through again.

The other person didn’t make you feel as good as your time with Soobin does and that’s what worried you. You’re also not in a spot to put your living situation at risk again. You had gotten so lucky to find him and f it goes bad between you, where would you go? You’re not as strong as Soobin. He could keep working with Jia and seeing her in public after what she did to him and be fine, but would you be able to live with him after? If he hurt you, or if you hurt him… could you handle it?

Lately, its not that you’ve been purposely avoiding him but ever since the kiss, your paths have barely passed. It seems like you both made an effort to interact at least once before and now that you’re not, its been boring.

When Soobin gets to the cafe, he couldn’t even think about having to work with Jia. She wasn’t in his mind anymore because all he could think about is you. You didn’t fully reject him and that’s what drives him insane.

“Hey Soob,” Taehyung said as he watched his friend walked past him with a somber expression, completely ignoring him.

You like him. You said you liked him, right? So why can’t you just give him a chance?

His mind felt a million miles away as he slipped up on his apron, tying it over his baggy shirt and sweats. Soobin was unaware of the stares his coworkers sent him as he found his job for the day and busied himself with it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Jia pointed out toward the end of their shift, “Did something happen?”

Her voice was laced with feigned concern and that only bother him more. Why does she bother pretending like she cares about him?

“Nothing that you have to worry about,” Soobin mumbled more to himself than her but she heard him anyway. He wouldn’t tell her about you and how you somewhat rejected him, instead he looked at the time wishing Taehyun could’ve just stayed till close with him and Jia.

“Soobin,” Jia’s voice was soft, coming over to where he was wiping down tables and chairs, “I know you and I aren’t as close as we used to be but… I really do care about you.”

A small scoff left his lips that he wasn’t able to hide as much as before and he turned away, ready to leave her behind so he could be alone.

“Does it have anything to do with that girl?” She asked closer to close when there wasn’t a single customer in sight and the sign had already been flipped.

Soobin couldn’t help but release a sigh in frustration as he looked at her, “Jia, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“Why are you acting like you all of a sudden care? Can’t we just work without talking and then go home?” Soobin asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood for her.

He’s kept his mouth shut ever since they broke up and he’s never asked her to explain anything or to apologize so why doesn’t she just let it go. He’s been biting his tongue because he didn’t want to seem bitter that she cheated on him but at this point he doesn’t care. He has other things to worry about then listening to his ex girlfriend try and act like everything is okay between them.

“Soobin, I’m sorry,” Jia confessed watching as he walked past her to the front door already holding the key to lock the shop for the night, “I know I probably hurt you and what I did was unforgivable but can you please just give me one more chance. I—I don’t like thinking you hate me.”

“Jia, I don’t hate you,” Soobin told her honestly as they stood outside and he can see the way she got hope in her eyes, making him keep explaining, “And I can work with you because I have to but I’m not going to forgive you.”

It felt strange being so honest after acting unaffected for a while but it was the truth and he needed to get it out, “You cheated on me, don’t you get that?”

“I know bu—“

“No, you clearly don’t know because since you saw me and Y/n get closer all you’ve wanted to do is talk to me. It’s not because you still want me but because you know you fucked up and don’t want me to move on with anyone else,” Soobin said harshly, “Do you realize how frustrating it is to want to be with someone and everyone thinks you’re not over your cheating ex girlfriend?”

Jia looked like she wanted to say something but the words were caught in her throat, so Soobin continued, “You slept with someone I lived with behind my back and in my own home and you think apologizing and asking for one more chance is going to work?”

She was frozen, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. Of course he’s right and she was only wishing that things could change but she knows that she fucked up. Being with Soobin had been great, he was sweet and caring and she wanted more so she looked for more in a guy who doesn’t mean a thing to either one of them.

It had always felt like Soobin didn’t love her, like he only dealt with her because they were dating and even then it felt like she pushed him to it. He never got upset with her, even when he caught her cheating, he was just quiet and listened to her apologies over and over again. All he did was ask them both to leave and that was it. When he still went to work at the cafe she hoped it was a sign that he would forgive her if he could still stand being around her but then you came along and she could see the way Soobin’s face began to light up.

From the get-go, she feels like you were able to draw more out from him than she ever was and that really did annoy her. She’s not putting the blame on him for her cheating but why couldn’t he show more with her as he had with you and why is it too late now?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, close to tears but it was obvious Soobin didn’t care anymore.

“Have a good night, Jia,” he sighed, leaving her behind as he went to the bus stop.

He likes you, you’re all he’s been able to think about and he can’t stand knowing you doubt his intentions. Soobin has never been the type to use someone for his own gain and even that night of the party he forgot you went with him so he wouldn’t be alone knowing Jia was there. Once he had you with him, he didn’t care who was around. All he cared about was you and he needs you to know that.

When he got home, he was surprised to see you coming out of your bedroom right as he walked through the front door. You looked over at him, nervous and unsure what to say or if you should say anything at all. You weren’t sure if he was still upset with you or if he was ever really upset by what you said.

“Hey,” you said shyly, walking toward the kitchen where you were returning a bowl.

“Hey,” Soobin set his things, debating if he should go to his room or just try with you one more time.

Now that he’s told Jia how he feels about her still trying with him, he feels more confident to tell you exactly what it is he wants with you. He doesn’t want a rebound, he doesn’t care about his last relationship, he cares about getting to know you and kissing you more.

“Were you just at work?” You asked, trying to make some conversation, see if you could read how he might feel with you.

“Yeah,” Soobin joined you in the kitchen, “I had to close with Jia.”

You turned away from the counter, jumping slightly at how close he was behind you suddenly, “And how was that?”

“Well she apologized and asked for a second chance,” Soobin said, looking down at you, so close that his front nearly brushed against yours. You raised a brow in surprise that Jia had the nerve to ask for another chance but you wondered if Soobin was bringing this up because he planned on giving it to her.

“Oh?” You said, unsure what he was planning on saying next.

Soobin bit his lip, not shying away from your stare like he normally would, “So I told her that it was never going to happen because I’ve moved on and I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m using you or still not over my ex because I’m so over her, you don’t understand. The night of the party was one of the first nights I realized how much I like you and it’s taken me a while to admit it because I wanted to be sure.”

You blinked in surprise as he moved even closer, “And I know you kind of rejected me the other night but I also know you like me too so if you just give me one chance, I swear I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever been with and I have no intentions of just being with you as some rebound. You mean so much more to me and I should’ve told you that the other night but Y/n, I really want to be with you and no one else.”

With a small sigh, you leaned onto the counter behind you and nodded, “I want to be with you too, Binnie, but…”

He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he reached forward, cupping your face in his hands, “Y/n, just give me a chance.”

“I—okay,” you laughed softly and with that, he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours gently.

Your eyes fell shut, reaching out to touch him when he moved closer, pushing you against the counter with no room to go anywhere. A small gasp left your lips in surprise and it gave him a chance to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

“Soobin,” you laughed in shock as he pulled back in an attempt to catch his breath, “That was unexpected, different from the last kiss.”

His hands were resting on the counter, trapping you between them, he was leaning downuntil he could leave tender kisses along your neck, “I’m sorry, I… it was sudden and last time you wanted to stop.”

He was panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to take a deep breath, “Do you want to stop again?”

You looked into his eyes, “Not really.”

That was all he needed to hear before leaning back down for a kiss, this time sliding his hands down to your waist, grounding himself to the reality of this all. Your hands went to his soft black hair, brushed it out of his face and kissed him feverishly.

Soobin’s lips parted against yours, a sigh of relief escaped as he tilted his head to the side. You were a bit surprised by his forwardness once again that when his tongue trailed along your lower lip as if asking for permission, all you could was grant it. Your tongues met smoothly, circling around each other, before pulling back to his lips on your bottom one. Was he such a good kisser last time?

The more he seemed to lean forward and close the nonexistent gap between you, the more you leaned back with need, never once pulling your mouth away from his. With an annoyed huff at your attempt to lean back, he found himself tightening his grip on your waist before pulling you onto the counter making you gasp, “Bi—“

The near call of his nickname made him groan into your mouth, he kissed you with frenzy, like soon you would change your mind and everything would stop.

A small laugh escaped your lips at his eagerness, not shying away from wrapping your legs around his waist as he sat you down on the peninsula countertop. You brought a hand down to the cold marble, trying to steady yourself when he kissed along your jaw, then your neck leaving small red marks where he nipped at.

“Y/n,” Soobin’s voice caught you by surprise, his usual tone was deeper and hoarse with need as he pulled away from kissing you. His hands remained on your waist, his thumbs underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, inching it up just slightly, “One chance.”

“That’s all it’s gonna take,” he mumbled with swollen lips as he looked down at your lap, the material of your leggings not threatening and you could feel his hands slide down till they were at the hem of your leggings.

His gaze was darkened and you were admittedly incredibly turned on by this new side of him. It’s not like you expected him to suddenly take the lead so heavily but you can’t say you hated it. It’s different that what you’re used to from him and it makes you think back to the night of your first kiss. Should you have said yes all along? Would you have ever gotten to see this side of him where he felt the need to express just how much he wants to be with you?

Your eyes locked with his as he slowly began to pull down the material of your pants, lifting your hips slightly as he let them slide down. It’s like he was still waiting for you to tell him stop but with the parting of your legs and the way you guided him down to his knees, it was clear to him you wanted this just as bad.

Soobin started with gentle kisses along your thighs, neither you caring that you were doing this in your kitchen, it only seemed to fuel the heat in his stomach that you were alone. You licked your lips with anticipation, eyes dropping with need at the way he pulled your legs over his shoulders swiftly, looking down at your covered heat with a cute sort of curiosity.

He could see through the thin fabric how turned on you had gotten from the kiss. He can make out the shape of your slit and there was a slight dampness where your entrance would be and it made him feel so much bitter about the growing bulge in his jeans. With eager fingers, he pulled the fabric down, unable to help himself from teasing your heat with his nose tip, “Y/n.”

Your name fell from his lips so prettily that you nearly missed the urgency in it until you were looking at him, looking down at your cunt until finally, he leaned in. A sigh in content escaped you as he placed a soft kiss along your folds, teasing you by avoiding your hardened clit. His hands which held your legs apart were so far up your thighs you could feel the shadow of them against your core and it felt good to be grabbed by him. You never noticed just how big his hands were, or how good he could possibly be with his mouth.

After the light teasing he did with your folds, he licked softly against your clit before pulling it into his mouth, sucking gently making you moan for the first time. Soobin’s eyes immediately went to your face as he swirled his tongue around your clit, lathering it in his drool as he watched your face contort in pleasure making him throb in his jeans uncomfortably.

With one hand on the counter for support, your other hand went to his hair, pulling him closer between your legs and you could feel one of his hands unravel from your thigh and come up to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his middle finger dip into your folds, collecting whatever slick your pussy let out when he sucked on your clit and ever so gently, he pushed a finger in.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he let his finger do some of the work. He rested his cheek against the softness of your thigh while beginning to thrust his middle finger into your wet pussy, “So fucking pretty, Y/n.”

With a deep groan, he went back to your clit, letting his middle finger hook into your g-spot while he mouthed at your clit, costing it in spit while fucking you with his finger. Your hand in his hair never let up, you used it for support, unable to keep your moans down, “Binnie.”

He felt the way you fluttered around him and it only made him put in more effort to bring you to your edge—and not just on the counter. He was nearly on his knees and his legs were beginning to cramp, his cock was getting heavy in its confinement but he didn’t let up. Instead, he let his mouth glide over your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses in its wake.

“Oh god,” you whined softly as you felt a second finger push into your heat and a few seconds of this had your thighs threatening to shut, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, “Your mouth feels so good.”

“Cum for me then, baby,” the words slipped from his lips without thought but for some reason those were the exact words you needed to hear. He felt your release on his tongue a short moment after he spoke and your folds throbbed with please around him.

“That’s it,” he groaned, watching your juice drop around his fingers, gently pulling them away and letting you relax post orgasm.

You looked at him with a new sense of attraction, why was he so confident in bed? Soobin’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down at the mess you made on the counter but his dick loved the sight of your release dripping down on the counter. It was an easy clean up and it was hot, so fucking hot.

Without much thought put into it, Soobin raised his soaked fingers to his lips, humming softly at the taste of your essence. A bunny-like grin spread across his face as he couldn’t help but laugh, “You know we’re not done, right?”

Despite the last couple moments where he’s initiated intimacy, he didn’t wait for permission. He was letting you know he wasn’t done with you yet and that made it all the better when he pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were half naked and taking you toward his bedroom.

He set you down on his bed gently, looking down at you as he yanked off his shirt exposing a lean body of muscle you hadn’t expected.

Soobin isn’t the type to show off his body, he liked more loose fitting clothes and whenever he’s complimented on his physique he always gets shy. Whenever he leaves his room or he knows you’re home he makes sure to be fully dressed and he’s kept himself a secret from you out of nervousness that you might get uncomfortable. Now that your eyes are on his toned stomach, all he could think about is how he wished you’d seen him sooner—if he knew you would look at him like this.

Seeing him undress before you, taking his jeans off next followed by his briefs left you with your lip pulled between your teeth. You now knew why he looked so sweaty early in the mornings, he went to the gym at dawn while you slept in.

You sat up and pulled your shirt off, careful to undo your bra as you felt the bed dip down with his weight and he crawled toward you, helping you throw your things down before pushing you to lay down.

“Condom?” You ask, making him look at you with a sense of curiosity. He knew what you were asking and he of course would oblige but as he looked down at your naked bodies and the way his hard cock pressed against your head, he couldn’t help but let his mind go astray. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

You let Soobin get up as he leaned over his nightstand, praying to the universe that he had a condom somewhere about. It’s obvious he hasn’t had sex in a good long while but he’s just hoping the universe is on his side and he can find one.

After a moment of searching, his heart raced, moved back between your legs and kissed you hungrily. You took the condom from his hands, ripped the wrapper off and searched down his toned abdomen till you found his stiff member. Although you haven’t gotten a good look at it, it had a weight to it and good girth that you couldn’t help but write with need.

Soobin didn’t hesitate to himself up with your entrance when you got the condom on and as gentler as ever, he pushed in. A low growl left his lips as your walls hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but let his strength falter, nearly crushing you with his weight at the pleasure.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against yours as he pulled out slowly, taking a moan to let you feel his big mushroom tip against your ring of nerves. Once he needed more, he pushed back in with a bit more force.

“Soobin,” you moaned, letting your head fall back into to the pillows as his hips began a steady pace of thrusting into you, "Oh… fuck."

He brushed his lips against yours, fucking you with his big cock, basking in the feel of your pussy around him, “So wet, bub.”

His voice had softened even if his thrusts grew rougher, “You feel so good around me.”

Soobin couldn’t help but be close and he was awfully pathetic for it. In his defense, he had just made out with a girl he was crushing on for the past hour. Add on how he ate your pussy in the kitchen [of all places] he felt it was only human of him to be so close to cumming despite barely fucking you.

With a deep grunt, he snuck his hand under your arched back pulling you off the bed and a quiet squeal left your lips. You moved your legs to hug his waist and cling to him when he sat you down on his thighs, cock still deep in your pussy. Soobin’s hands founded their way to the softness of your ass, pinching softly at the way you basically cock warmed him and it took him a moment to raise you up, and pull you back to take him all.

“Please Y/n,” he groaned, grinding your pussy on his dick, “Just say you want to be with me already, fuck. I just want to hear you say it.”

Pure bliss was evident on his face and your usual cute Soobin was replaced by a feral, dark and lustful Soobin you weren’t used to. His hair was sweaty and voice so deep that you couldn’t help but succumb to his advances.

He hugged your body to his and you began to bounce on his lap, kissing his neck and letting your hands trace down his chest feeling his nipples harden, “I want to be with you, Binnie.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna cum.”

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming first but he couldn’t. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his cock shooting thick spurts of cum into the condom, trembling underneath you.

“Fuck,” his voice was dry, urging you to keep riding his cock, “Keep going.”

“Bin—“ you moaned, hearing the desperation in his voice and did as you were told. It didn’t take long for you to let go, cumming in his arms as he whispered how good you felt around him.

As gentle as ever, he set you back on the bed, collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess that had you groaning.

“Sticky,” you mumbled, “I feel sticky.”

Soobin looked down at you and the mess the two of you made of each other, blinking with confusion on how things had escalated so quickly. Did he do that?

“Sorry,” he pouted, “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“I think so,” you giggled softly as he reluctantly let you sit up, “How about I meet you back here in a minute?”

Soobin couldn’t think of anything to say and with a silent nod, he let you gather your things and leave.

You weren’t trying to ditch him but you needed to freshen up at least a little bit.

He thought about waiting for you in his bed after he cleaned up after himself but after a while he began to overthink it. Would you actually come back? He understands you’re just a wall away but the distance seemed so far now that he couldn’t help but get up and dressed, following you out his bedroom.

In the process of heading to your room, he stopped in the kitchen to clean up the mess as best as he could for the moment. A soft hum left his lips as he did so and when his eyes landed on a thin piece of lace fabric, he blinked curiously.

With a someone innocent look in his eyes, Soobin picked up your underwear, biting down on his bottom lip to stop a mischievous smile from growing before he shoved them in the pocket of his sweats, unsure what he would do with them later on. A giddy smile plastered his face, dimples on display as he walked toward your room, hearing the water run and he laid in your bed.

“Now, I thought I said I would be back in a minute,” you laughed softly when you came out your bathroom and Soobin just cutely snuggled himself deeper between your sheets and pillows.

“It was too long,” Soobin said as he lifted your bed covers, “Come lay down.”

“I gotta clean out th—“

“I already did,” Soobin whined when you tried walking past him on the bed and with a gentle pull on your wrist, he was leading you onto the bed.

“Did you?” You asked, letting him pull you down until you were laying down next to him, feeling him snuggle into you with his face against your breasts.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his interest caught on the softness of your chest—a place he had neglected when he knew damn well he shouldn’t have.

“Binnie,” you warned when you felt nuzzle into your breasts, squirming against your side, “It’s late already.”

“I know, but your bed… it’s so soft,” he clearly didn’t mean the bed and he thought he was just being a sly bunny, “And you said you would be with me now. Don’t kick me out.”

You could already feel his print press against your thigh, a clear sign that he was getting turned on all over and it was obvious he skipped over wearing anything under his sweats.

A gasp left his lips when he felt your hand palm his erection lightly and unexpectedly, saying to him, “Well, I guess my bed hasn’t been broke into yet.”

Soobin’s hand clutched yours tightly, following you so close that he almost stepped on the back of your shoes everytime you walked. The bar was packed with people and it made his anxiety spike up a bit and feeling your hand in his made him feel slightly better.

“Now don’t get too drunk tonight,” Taehyun said with a laugh as he trailed after you two. Soobin just glared at him, letting you take the lead to order the drinks, eyeing the bartender who was a little too nice to you.

“I don’t plan on drinking too much if he’s the bartender all night,” Soobin mumbled under his breath, hearing the way the bartender talked to you compared to the others. You didn’t pay him any mind but Soobin was watching him too closely that it made Taehyun laugh.

“Relax buddy, you already got Y/n and I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Taehyun said looking around the bar, waving down Yeonjun who had been search for them all night. Even if your attention was on the bartender, you still held Soobin’s hand, beating him to it when he offered to pay.

“You paid the last two times we went out,” you told him, handing everyone their drink but Soobin was whining.

“But I like paying for you, Taehyun and Yeonjun have their own money,” Soobin said, turning to his friends with a scowl, “Don’t spoil them, only me if you do things like this.”

You laughed, feeling his arm circle around your waist, “It’s okay, come on, my friends are around here somewhere.”

“Hurry up before I puke,” Yeonjun groaned, reminding Soobin that he wasn’t alone with you at home and it made him shy, hiding behind you as you lead the way.

“Wow, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so rizz!” A loud voice yelled out from your side before you were being pummeled back a few steps with large arms around you, jumping excitedly.

“Whoa, rizz!” Beomgyu shouted equally as annoying, making you groan. Soobin smiled nervously as he looked back to his friends who looked just as confused as him. He felt awkward seeing you being hugged by two guys but he tried to ignore it knowing they were just your friends.

“Binnie this is Kai and that’s Beomgyu,” you told him before looking at your friends, “Guys this is Soobin, my boyfriend.”

His dimples showed through and he couldn’t help but smile widely as you addressed him. When you joined his side against he was quick to reach for you, more happy now that you’ve called him that.

“Hello,” Beomgyu stood straight and brought a hand to his forehead as if in salute, “This is our first formal meeting.”

Kai nodded as he took your drink in his own hands, “Yeah, we would have said hi to you when we went to the cafe but Y/n wouldn’t let us because she didn’t want you to know she had a big fat mega obtuse crush on you.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes at him, “It wasn’t like I was obsessed. I was just, yknow, curious.”

Taehyun put a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, “You see? Y/n liked you then too.”

You spent the night either sitting on Soobin’s lap or dancing with him when he asked you to, and when you went home, he jumped in your bed like he’s been doing since the first night.

… THE END, okay I’m out of text boxes but basically sorry it took my so long to finally drop a Soobin fic but hopefully the length of this makes up for it 😭after drafting a story, hating it, drafting a new story, hating it and repeating the cycle for months, I finally got one finish. please interact and lmk what you thinks… it’s kinda a mess but I tried 🤒

[moon-reblogs]

LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. college! au, orgmate! soobin, strangers to friends to lovers, slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, comfort (no hurt), SLOWBURN, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. reader is shorter than soobin, swearing, drinking, kissing, unrequited feelings, annoying org jargon. WORD COUNT. 36k. TAGLIST. @stellz581​ @michipan​ @goldennika​​ @taekwondoes​​ @cerealdreamwriter​​

NOTE. this fic is a five-in-one but it’s obvious endgame is (hint: look at the header). thoroughly enjoyed projecting all my past crushes into my dear tubatu boys haha i hope no one i know personally reads this haha.

some of the scenes were lifted from my own personal experiences HUAHAH have fun guessing which ones are real (but embellished) and made up for the sake of the story 😎. anyhow, this is long. this is slow. but i do hope the payoff at the end is worth watching soobin’s year long suffering when he finally gets the girl 😭 hope to hear your thoughts on this. enjoy!

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds, and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight.

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