nwinwisworld - Tumblr blog

nwinwisworld · 1 year

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just stay with me

{ 18+ only. minors/ageless blogs DNI ≡ masterlist }

pairing: hyunjin x afab reader | wordcount: 17k | genre: coworkers to friends to lovers, romance, smut | general warnings: multiple povs, mentions of a breakup (not hj x reader), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, only one bed trope, mutual pining/fantasizing, food/drinking, explicit sexual content. more warnings under the cut. Just a chill, uneventful little one-shot for winter vibes ♡ { ao3 }

It's time for the yearly winter getaway organized by your boss. You haven't participated in a little while, but this year you're determined to spend some quality time with your coworkers.

Smut warnings: Hyunjin has explicit fantasies about reader (oral sex, fingering + daydreaming about her body) and masturbates to the thought of her, foot massage/appreciation of feet, very low key exhibitionism but I'm adding it just in case, tipsy sex, oral sex (m + f receiving), handjob/vaginal fingering, unprotected & fully consensual sex. Vanilla for the most part, just on the rough side (a few slaps of reader's ass, hair grabbing, etc), creampie (not accidental) / some cumplay. Terms of endearment used: baby, slut (affectionate)

You had thought there would be something cathartic to crying outside in the cold with the crisp breeze blowing over your face. But there was nothing liberating about it and it did not feel like an epiphany. The tears did not freeze at the corner of your eyes, the blizzard had no impact on your sorrow. It just felt like you were crying, and that also it was cold.

Quite an underwhelming experience, actually. If you were to give it a rating, it would go a little like this:

“ ★☆☆☆☆ — Better than crying in front of everybody, I guess, but not by much. ”

You walked around the cabin, the snow crunching under the soles of your boots. You hadn’t even bothered with zipping them up before rushing outside, away from your friends.

Another gust of wind blasted over you and you wrapped your cardigan closer around your body, but it did not do much against the strong squall. Still, you welcomed it, welcomed the cold, you let that occupy your mind instead of the thoughts that were troubling you.

You passed a window as you walked and couldn’t resist peeking inside the cabin that your boss had rented for this year’s winter getaway. The place was lost in the mountains, and from here in the dark you couldn’t see much except some trees and the lights from other cabins a little farther away.

The game was still going strong inside, with Jisung currently standing in the middle of the living room, doing his best to act out whatever charade the others had to guess. You watched for an instant, wiping off your tears to see better. Still, you couldn’t guess the riddle for the life of you, and it seemed the same was happening to the rest of the group—even from here, you could see Jisung growing more impatient by the second.

From out here, it looked cozy in there. A fireplace with a little fire in it, string lights all over the place, mugs of mulled wine warming up fingers or cooling off on coffee tables. Cushions and pillows and fleece blankets. Remnants of dessert all over the place, crumbs of cake on empty plates. The cake that you baked, your favorite winter dessert—chocolate-cinnamon cake with mandarin cream cheese frosting and candied cranberries to decorate it. You made it every year.

Friends laughing, phones out filming Jisung’s tantrum. Some of these friends were more entangled together than others—hands holding other hands or arms passed over shoulders, quick pecks here and there, eyes full of bliss, of wine, of love.

The voice coming from the hidden corner of the cabin startled you, but at least it was soft. “Hey, I know you’re out there, come back inside, you’ll catch the flu! Where are you? It’s so fucking cold!”

“You can’t get the flu from the cold, Hyunjin,” you pointed out. “It’s a virus.”

Hyunjin appeared after turning the corner of the large wooden cabin. Your coworker, your friend. Not necessarily a close friend, but you weren’t sure you had one of those anyway. So much for keeping your circle small. He had quickly put on his coat around his broad shoulders and was holding something as he walked towards you.

He stopped when he made it to you and stood with you by the window. “Let’s not argue over semantics, shall we?”

“Semantics? That’s biology, man. Not the same. You just can’t catch a virus because of the cold—”

“I brought a blanket.” Hyunjin cut you off in the middle of your counter-argument as if you hadn’t been talking at all, but the warm lighting from the window revealed a soft expression on his face. And concern, too. “Here. Flu or not, you shouldn’t be out in the cold dressed like that.”

He wrapped the fuzzy blanket around you, making sure to tuck you in tightly. You observed him as he did so, the dark pools of his eyes, his soft cheekbones turned pink with the second mug of mulled wine, which had also stained his full lips a little.

Hyunjin wasn’t like the others. Not that there was anything wrong with the others, of course not—but he was different. His aura had not only a unique color to it, but it also had a very distinct texture. As if Hyunjin was surrounded by soft, satiny, petal-like material. As if he brought tranquility wherever he went.

“Will you come back inside?” he asked gently, rubbing your arms over the blanket with his big hands to help warm you up sooner.

“You go.” You breathed deeply. “I’ll go in a minute or two.”

“Fine. I’ll stay for a minute or two, then. Won’t say a word.” He let go of you and returned to his observation of the charade game going on inside.

Hyunjin, with his striking beauty, his dorky laugh, his wisdom, his insight, his politeness. His sense of humor. His profound kindness. His sensitive heart, which he tried to conceal under his mysterious demeanor. A handsome man with a delicate soul, who moved with grace, elegance, and purpose no matter what he did. When he wrapped you in the blanket just then, when he got out of his car as he arrived for his shift at the restaurant, or when he mixed the drinks at the bar section. Nobody did anything like him, which you knew explained the fuzzy feelings that you had when he was around you or when you thought about him. Because, maybe, you hadn’t felt for anybody this way before, and it was strange.

Still. Hyunjin was your friend, and you felt safe around him. “I shouldn’t have come, Hyun. I knew it was a bad idea.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned against the wood exterior of the cabin. He was away from the light then and you couldn’t make out his facial expression, but you could see that he had cocked his head to the side. “Or not,” he offered. “Maybe this is how you move on, you know?”

Moving on. Fucking moving on.

One of the many things in life you seem to consistently fail at.

You did not love him anymore. Minho. Your boss, the owner of the restaurant where you worked at.

Your ex.

You were there from the beginning, along with Chan, Jisung, and Si-yeon. Si-yeon had found a promising position at a company soon after and hadn’t stayed at God’s Menu. Still, the restaurant had gained popularity quite quickly. One night, after closing time, Minho had kissed you as you two were looking at color swatches to repaint the main room. Then he had fucked you on his desk, and again against the wall of his office.

You had dated Minho for some time—nine months to be more exact. Towards the end of the relationship, he was closed off, distant, often choosing to come in specifically when you weren’t scheduled to work. When confronted about it, he admitted that he had been struggling with the fact that he was dating one of his employees, that it had affected his feelings for you.

He had fallen out of love with you, despite him trying not to. You believed him—Minho did not tell lies. Besides, you could see it on his face. The shame, the disappointment in himself. You knew he had a strong work ethic, you liked that about him. But neither you nor he had expected it would cause the end of your relationship.

But that was a while ago now. The breakup had occurred almost two years ago. You had taken the painful decision to stay at the restaurant. You liked the atmosphere there and were friends with most of the staff. You liked that you had seen it become something so grand when it started from basically nothing. You had painted those walls, you had typed the damn words on the menu before sending it to the print shop. You had tasted Chan’s million versions of his dishes to help him select the ultimate ones. Your blood, sweat, and tears were in there, and it felt wrong to leave it just because of a breakup.

It also felt wrong to stay. Still, you stayed, like the stubborn motherfucker you were.

Minho started dating Si-yeon. After all, she was not one of his employees. So it was okay.

And this is when Hyunjin had started working there. Changbin was the manager of the bar section as well as the only bartender at the time. But when business had picked up, they needed to hire somebody, and quickly. Jisung and Chan knew a guy who knew a guy, and that guy had just closed his bar due to unfortunate circumstances, and his best bartender needed a job. That was Hyunjin, and he had been hired on the spot after mixing one of his signature drinks for Minho. It was called Red Lights. Campari, prosecco rosé and cranberry juice mixed with some honey, served on ice.

That drink was now on the bar section’s menu, as well as many other of Hyunjin’s creations.

And maybe this was why your feelings for Hyunjin didn’t have any clear boundaries. He had entered your life when you were at a very vulnerable place, so maybe your heart had wanted to find wonder again in this too-pretty-to-be-real boy, the one who mixed ‘special’ drinks for you after closing time if he thought you seemed in a bad mood. He would never say that, of course, he’d just hand you a glass and tell you what ingredients were in it and tell you it was a magic potion for serotonin. Often, it was just fruit juice with a dash of smoky tea in an extravagantly decorated glass.

But hey, it kind of worked.

You did not miss him, did not love Minho anymore—maybe you hadn’t even loved him anymore when you confronted him about his lack of response in your relationship, all this time ago. But still, it had hit you like a train when, just now, he had told you that he and Si-yeon were engaged. He had told you first, which you thought was admirable and adult and respectful, before telling the rest of the group between two charades.

And now you were outside, hoping that crying in the cold would be better than locking yourself in a bathroom to sob and it wasn’t. It just wasn’t.

You did not love him anymore, but you hadn’t been able to move on like Minho had. He had started dating Si-yeon not long after the breakup while you had developed a stupid crush on a bartender who gave you fruit juice and was way out of your fucking league. Minho had moved in with his new girlfriend, a thing he had never voiced he even wanted to do with you, and they were living a good life. You were happy for them, truly. You weren’t jealous in the sense that you wanted Minho back, no, it wasn’t that.

You stayed in your small but cozy apartment, you did not do much. You watched TV series or movies, you read books. You baked for fun, to share the sweet treats with your friends, coworkers and family. You went on a handful of dates but did not care much for that. You had ended up in the bed of two of those dates, and you hadn’t cared much for that either.

Minho had moved on and you were stagnating, unable to figure out what you were supposed to do next. Your mother had suggested moving. Maybe a new environment would help you see beyond your routine. She had also suggested—many times—getting a new job. Your friends all said the same. Still, you stayed at God’s Menu. Like the stubborn motherfucker you were.

“I think it was a good idea that you did come,” Hyunjin said. You had avoided the yearly winter getaways since the breakup, figuring it was best not to end up stuck with Minho and your coworkers in a cabin up north for a couple of days. “It was brave, don’t you think? You couldn’t have known he was gonna drop the bomb on us—on you—like that.”

Hyunjin’s hair fell over his eyes when he straightened up his neck and his back, pushing himself away from the wall he leaned on. The blue shade of it was invisible to the eye in the darkness. He walked a few steps away from you, motioning you to follow him, but you didn’t. You stayed there, at the window, shivering in the cold, watching Minho’s charade. You knew he was trying to act out ‘pickpocketing’, but nobody, not even Si-yeon, seemed to pick up on that. Just like Jisung, he was becoming frustrated. It was funny. You smiled a little as you wiped what you hoped was the last of your tears for tonight.

“I’m happy for them, you know.” There was a lump in your throat and it didn’t seem to budge one bit. “I don’t even love him anymore. Why am I crying then?”

Hyunjin closed in the distance between the two of you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in for a one-armed hug. “It’s a lot to process.” Hyunjin’s voice was low, but you still heard him clearly over the gusts of wind. “You have to give yourself some time. He…” Hyunjin sighed, hesitating. “I think Minho was a bit of a coward to just break up with you instead of trying to work it out. Maybe your subconscious thinks like that, too. Unresolved frustration and shit. You’ll be alright, just be patient with yourself.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to start charging me for therapy fees.” Hyunjin chuckled with you, but you went on. “Is it extra for all of the serotonin potions, or were these part of the bundle?”

“No, they’re actually free because they’re experimental. You were the first and only patient of our very important clinical study.” Hyunjin pulled away then so that he could look into your eyes. He was warm against you, though, and it felt nice. He smelled good, too, as usual. “Unfortunately, it seems that our product did not meet our expectations.”

He brought the back of his fingers to your face, gently wiping away the few tears that were still rolling on your cheek. You shivered at the contact, blaming the cold despite knowing very well it was something else causing your sudden emotion and state of high alert. It happened every time Hyunjin touched you like that.

“Did you mean it?” You held onto the blanket around you, doing your best to calm both your fluttering heart and your rapid breathing. “That I’ll be alright?”

Hyunjin smiled at you. His arm returned around your waist, no longer giving you the choice—he dragged you away with him as he made his way back towards the front door. “I meant it, yeah, but it’ll only work if you actually don’t die of hypothermia. So let’s go.”

When you got in the cabin again, the conversation and laughter were still going on just like before you had gone outside. From the small entrance, you couldn’t see anyone though, and turned to Hyunjin as he was hanging his coat on the wall. “Is it obvious that I cried?” you asked him. “Are my eyes red and puffy?”

Hyunjin squinted a little, observing you carefully. Then, he shook his head. “Actually, not that bad.” He pulled on the sleeve of his sweater and finished drying your cheeks, dabbing your skin carefully so as not to leave any marks. “Maybe the cold prevented the inflammation.”

Then you ought to change your rating on the whole crying outside experience.

“ ★★★☆☆ — Better than crying in front of everybody and served as a free, complimentary eye mask at the same time. Will go back for sure! ”

Hyunjin took your hand in his and led you not to the living room where the game was still happening—although you could hear Changbin voicing his complaints that he was tired of it—but to the kitchen. Most of the dishes had been cleaned.

“You didn’t eat dessert,” Hyunjin pointed out, opening the fridge. “And you made it! So we’re gonna eat some cake and finish the mulled wine, how about that for serotonin?”

“Cake?” you raised your eyebrows, surprised at how easily a smile painted itself on your lips. “Is this the second phase of the clinical trial, by any chance?”

“Guilty.” Hyunjin let the fridge door close itself as he brought what was left of your cake to the counter. You sat at one of the stools near him, watching his agile fingers hold the knife carefully as he sliced the dessert. “But I’m more than confident that we will see some improvement this time. The person who made the cake is one hell of a baker.”

“Ah, are they really that good or is this just a rumor?” You giggled as Hyunjin’s soothing aura was piercing its way through the gloomy mist around you.

Hyunjin placed the slices of cake on two small plates. He had icing on two of his fingers, and you found yourself wishing you’d lick it off him. Before your brain could even process that thought, Hyunjin had brought the fingers to his mouth to get the job done himself—of course. That was the normal thing to do anyway—it’s not like he was going to push his fingers into your mouth and—

“They’re really good, yeah,” he went on, pulling his fingers from between his plush lips, leaving a small speck of icing on them. “That person baked me a cake for my birthday last year actually, and it was the best cake I ever had.”

What if I kissed him. What if I kissed the icing off his lips?

No, no, no. Fucking hell. How was it possible that, five minutes ago, you were crying because your ex is getting engaged, and now you wanted to kiss your friend because he had icing on his pretty mouth?

You ate a bite of cake, remembering the one you had baked for Hyunjin’s birthday—a matcha cheesecake with raspberry coulis. He had talked about that cake for months, and you had promised yourself you’d make another one for his next birthday too.

“Thanks, Hyunjin.” He ate a little too before leaving you to pour the last of the mulled wine into two mugs, which you clinked together before emptying their content.

“I think I’ve had a little too much of that,” he admitted with a laugh. In the other room, the volume of the conversations seemed to have dialed down a little. Changbin had apparently won his battle to end the game—and it was most likely because he and his girlfriend were the losing team. In fact, you could hear her call him out on it gently, her voice dripping with love. “I think you’ve had too much too, your cheeks are all rosy. Are you feeling a little warmer?” Hyunjin inquired, returning to his seat next to you.

“Yes, I’m alright.” You touched your cheek, not surprised to find it so warm. It made you blush even more to think that Hyunjin was seeing you like that.

“Don’t worry, it looks pretty,” Hyunjin commented in between bites of cake. “Sounds like they’re gonna watch a movie. Do you want to join?”

You stared at the half-eaten slice of cake on your plate before turning to Hyunjin. He looked especially handsome tonight in a simple hoodie and jeans outfit. His desaturated dark blue hair looked soft to the touch, silky smooth, and you had to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. You couldn’t help but notice that it had grown a little longer since he had gotten this haircut. You liked it, though. You didn’t think this man had it in him to look anything but gorgeous.

“Oh, yeah, why not?” You actually felt like it, too. Hopefully the movie would be fun…

Changbin, Jisung and Si-yeon entered the kitchen as you were finishing your slice of cake. Hyunjin was already done and was rinsing his plate in the sink.

“That’s where you guys were!” Jisung exclaimed, taking the seat that Hyunjin had occupied just a few seconds ago. “Hiding to stuff your face with cake, keeping it all to yourself!”

“Hey, you had two slices,” you pointed out, “and I made the damn cake! Think that entitles me to some…”

“She’s right, Ji,” Si-yeon said as she grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard next to the sink. “You stuffed your round little cheeks more than anyone in this cabin!”

“You all can go to hell, whatever!” Jisung scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m hungrier than all of you because I had to be the one starting the fire in the fireplace.”

Changbin leaned against the counter right across from you and smiled playfully. “You tried to start the fire, Han Jisung. But you couldn’t. Minho actually lit it up, remember?”

“No, I have no recollection of that. Hyunjin, what the hell did you put in that mulled wine to make me black out like this?”

The whole room burst into laughter. Yours was a little shy, a little quieter, but you found it comforting to know that you could find things funny even when Si-yeon was around. She was a lovely person anyway.

She had actually turned Minho down initially, feeling like going on a date with him would be crossing a line. You respected that, some kind of unspoken rule had been observed there. But when your group of college friends had met a couple of weeks later for drinks, Si-yeon had told you about it, and you had immediately assured her that it would be totally okay if she went out with Minho. So really, you could not understand what troubled you so much tonight. This had all happened so long ago.

Was your mother right? Did you need to put space between the past and you?

“Are you guys gonna watch the movie with us?” Si-yeon asked, but she really was staring at you. She could probably tell that you had cried, and was testing the waters with you.

“What kind of movie?” you replied. “I’d be in the mood for some mindless sci-fi, you know?”

“Actually sounds lovely, I’ll go start up the TV.” She disappeared from the kitchen without using the clean glass she had taken out of the cabinet.

You filled it for her with water from the fridge while Hyunjin was making a late-night round of drinks for everyone—sweet vermouth with maraschino and chartreuse liqueur. He diluted it with ice, claiming he did not want to be responsible for everyone’s liver to fail as he had stirred up several rounds of drinks tonight for the group as well as the mulled wine.

Soon later, as everyone was getting settled in the living room to watch a superhero movie, Minho smiled worriedly at you over his glass. You tasted the drink too, finding it refreshing after a few mugs of spiced wine. Si-yeon sat beside him, but she was having a deep conversation about the looks of two of the actors from the movie with Changbin and Ha-ri, his girlfriend.

You smiled back at him, at Minho, and raised your glass just slightly at him. He had hurt you and you had hurt him, too, but you couldn’t hold it against him that he had moved on. That he had allowed himself to fall in love again while you so obstinately refused to. Like the stubborn motherfucker you were.

Minho stared at you for a few seconds, his expression softening, and he raised his glass back, then you both drank to the unspoken peace treaty. Minho wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders and she rested her head against his.

Hyunjin took the seat next to you on one of the many couches in the big living room. He had brought with him the blanket he had given you earlier, outside, and laid it on both of you. You wanted to rest your head against him, too. You wanted to touch his blue hair, look into his espresso eyes.

Instead, you sipped your drink, complimenting him on it as it was genuinely delicious, and watched the movie by his side. And it felt good. Like something in your chest had evaporated, and instead of a thick storm, you only felt a gentle mist.

Nineteen months ago, Hyunjin had met Lee Minho in his restaurant which he had boldly named God’s Menu. Hyunjin admired that about Minho—his confidence that he was always doing his best, and that his best was enough, yet that he still could and should improve. Few people in life displayed such reason and determination, so Hyunjin wasn’t surprised that Minho was successful. That night, Minho sat with him after closing time and they chatted. Chan was also there—he had made them a delicious pasta meal and they were eating together. Minho seemed rather inclined to at least give Hyunjin a chance. Still, he asked him if he had a few signature drinks and if he would be willing to mix one for them tonight.

Hyunjin had a few drinks of the sort, but his true specialty was to ‘remix’ cocktail recipes to elevate them. As Minho was requesting a signature drink from him, Hyunjin’s eyes had fallen upon the bottle of Campari behind the bar, and the inspiration for Red Lights had come to him instantly. That night was the first night he mixed that drink, inventing it on the spot and improvising the whole time. But it had been the drink that had gotten him the job, in the end, and now Hyunjin had a reputation in town—he was known for his mixology skills, which was still surreal for him.

Nobody knew. That he had never made the drink before that.

Two days later, he met you. The restaurant assistant-manager who liked to do some waiting at the tables even though she did not have to. A soft smile on softer lips, big eyes, kindness in every word you spoke. After closing time, you always sent the waiters home early and took on some of their chores. ‘Keeps my mind busy,’ you had told Hyunjin, one night after he asked why. You had music playing in your section of the restaurant for your ears only, and liked to hum along to the songs. The volume was low but Hyunjin could hear you as he took inventory of the bar section, as he wiped down tables and surfaces. If he had to describe you at that point, he would have said that you were interesting.

Sixteen months ago, he noticed that the melancholy in your eyes did not dissipate. Still, you regularly brought baked goods for the employees, bought fresh flowers for the staff room, you sported a smile on your face, no matter how painful it was to do it.

‘If I were you, I’d forget her,’ Seungmin had told him one night when, after closing time, Hyunjin was doing some prep for the next day. You were in the other section singing along to a pop song and sweeping the floor. In your own little world. Seungmin had noticed him staring at you. ‘She’s the boss’ ex and she still loves him, everyone knows that.’

‘Isn’t Minho seeing someone?’ Hyunjin had asked the restaurant’s accountant. ‘I’m pretty sure he mentioned a girl.’

‘Oh, Si-yeon? Yeah, they’re seeing each other.’ Hyunjin would never forget Seungmin’s shrug, how perfectly synchronized it had been with the beat of the song you were listening to. Coincidences like that were like life’s way of reminding one about its intricacies. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that it would be a bad idea to fuck your boss’ ex, doesn’t it? Besides, she’s really hung up on him, not sure you even stand a chance.’

If he had to describe you at that point, he would have said that you were interesting, sad, pretty. That you were a skilled baker.

Ten months ago, Hyunjin caught the flu. He was very sick and stayed at home for over a week being miserable in his bed. One evening, he received a text message from you. ‘I’m coming over, please unlock your door.’ He objected—the last thing he wanted was to make you sick too, but you insisted. He unlocked his door and you came in with paperwork for him to sign for the restaurant and two large bags of groceries. You made him sit on his couch with peppermint tea, a blanket, and a light-hearted drama while you cooked chicken noodle soup and black bean sauce for him, chatting with him while you did so. You left as soon as you had split the food in small containers and put them in his fridge, making him promise to get plenty of rest and eat three meals a day. Making him promise to call you if he needed something.

The whole rest of the week, Hyunjin was waiting for a good reason to make that call, but he didn’t run out of medicine or food, or anything. Unfortunately.

If he had to describe you at that point, he would have said that you were kind, generous, interesting, beautiful. Sweet. That your heart was heavy but you made sure that others felt joy every day.

Nine months ago, Hyunjin was working and it was his birthday. He did not mind that—his parents would have him for dinner the next day and he had another dinner planned with friends from work and from outside work, too. Halfway through his busy shift, the music playing in the restaurant stopped, immediately replaced by his coworkers’ voices singing him ‘Happy Birthday’. He had been moved by that, as all of them surrounded him and hugged him. Changbin was holding a plate with a cheesecake on it. The cake had a satiny raspberry coulis on top and was a pretty soft-green color on the inside.

‘Make a wish, quick! Or else the candle will melt and ruin y/n decorations on the cake!’ Chan had pointed out. Hyunjin hadn’t known what to wish for, he didn’t like to wish for things. But he had wished that you would bake him another cake for his birthday next year, too.

He hoped that wish would come true because it was the best cake he had ever tasted. The crust was crispy, not too sweet, and the coulis was divine. You had made it yourself, for him. Later that night, there had been a little gathering after the restaurant had closed. Everybody indulged in the cake and some drinks. He found you outside in the cold, shivering but determined to stay away from the others. He had given you his jacket, pretending he wasn’t cold at all. ‘I just wanted some quiet, Hyunjin. Sorry. Happy birthday, though.’

Hyunjin had wanted to kiss you then but did not have the balls to do it. You were Minho’s ex, and your eyes were still veiled by your heartbreak. Part of him knew he was just looking for excuses to stay in his comfort zone but still, he did not insist. He stood with you at the back of the restaurant until you decided to go back with the others.

If he had to describe you at that point, he would have said that you were hurt, but that you had found a way to make beauty out of that hurt. He would have said that you were beautiful, charming, alluring. That he thought of you, often, of the way your mouth looked when you sucked on a maraschino cherry, the sound of your laugh, the outline of your tits in your white shirts, the way your skirts hugged your legs. He would have said that you were smart, interesting, kind, that he made sure to be very slow at his closing routine so that you’d offer to help him once you were done with yours, and he’d just chat with you for a while.

He always put maraschino cherries in your drinks. Thank you drinks, serotonin boost drinks, I’m sorry I fucked up the liquor order shipment and we’re definitely running out of vodka before the end of the month drinks…

He always stared at you when you ate the cherries, too, imagining that you were playing with his tongue instead of fruit. How wrong it felt when he closed his eyes at night, fist closed around his cock in his bed or the shower, thinking of bending you over and fucking you against the large counter of the bar section, or on his couch, in his car, anywhere. How good it felt when he came thinking of you.

One month ago, Minho had come in just before dinner service, telling the staff currently working that the yearly winter getaway would indeed take place. He had rented a bigger cabin this year, and everybody was welcome to have a plus one with them, something that hadn’t been the case before—to keep things simple, he always said. Minho always needed to make sure things were running smoothly. He had asked everyone to confirm their attendance within two days. If too few people were interested, he’d rent something smaller.

Hyunjin's heart had jumped when he saw your name in the group chat for the getaway. You were working that day, so he had told you about it later. ‘It’s cool that you’re going this year.’

‘I think it’s a bad idea, Hyunjin,’ you had admitted. That night, Hyunjin could make out the lace of your bra under your shirt and it had made his cock twitch in his pants. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t go. Because of Minho.’

By then, the two of you had grown close enough that you had trusted him with the whole story behind the breakup. To this day, Hyunjin thought Minho had been a coward not to try harder. If you were his girlfriend, he would try to keep you. ‘I’m glad you’re going,’ was all Hyunjin had managed to tell you. He understood how you felt, but he was happy with the perspective of spending some time with you, away from work, away from the city. ‘I’ll make you plenty of serotonin drinks, promise.’

You had hugged him after that, thanking him. Later that night, Hyunjin had watched his cum disappear down the drain of his shower, forehead against the ceramic tile. It was wrong. He had to do something about it.

If he couldn’t have you, then maybe he should find another job. Go somewhere else where he would not see you so often. Go somewhere else, so that you didn’t hug him so tight, your body flush with him, your tits pressed against his chest.

If he had to describe you at that point, he wouldn’t have known which words to use. A friend, a crush, the girl he liked. Something else, something stronger. Something he was afraid to admit even to himself.

Something he couldn’t have.

Tonight, at the cabin, Hyunjin watched the movie by your side. He had seen it twice already, mostly because it was one of the default movies his roommate would put on when he didn’t know what to watch. He liked it, but he liked watching you more.

The way you would close your eyes sometimes, to rest them maybe, or because you were sleepy. The little glances and smiles you had for him after you laughed at a joke. How you tried to conceal your tears at the sad scene in the middle of the film.

How your thigh brushed against him when you shifted your weight on the couch. Hyunjin was hoping you would fall asleep and lay against him, but you didn’t. You watched the whole movie.

A few people announced they were going to sleep—Jisung, Si-yeon, Jeongin and his girlfriend Hye-ja as well as Min-seo. They immediately earned themselves playful complaints from the ones who said they would finish the dishes and clean up the kitchen. You were among those, and Hyunjin wanted to go with you, but Minho and Seungmin had other plans for him—they asked him to join them in a discussion that had started before the movie, when Seungmin was telling the story about the time he visited a whiskey distillery with his friends. Minho wanted to know Hyunjin’s opinion on whiskeys, as he considered investing in a few exclusive bottles but wanted to make the right choice.

But Hyunjin indulged them. He liked whiskey, liked to see the light filter through a good whiskey as he poured it into a Glencairn glass. Minho promised him a brand new set of those, as well as to bring him on his shopping quest for some fancy whiskey.

From where he sat in the living room, Hyunjin could see a little of the kitchen. He saw Changbin and Ha-ri leave for the basement where their room was located—Changbin looked so tired that his poor girlfriend almost had to carry him down there. He, of course, blamed it on washing the dishes by hand.

The smell of coffee was spreading all the way here, and Hyunjin observed you. You were grabbing a handful of small mugs from a cupboard while Chan sat on the counter. You two were having a lively conversation about something Hyunjin couldn’t quite understand, as you were speaking in low voices, most likely out of respect for those who had gone to sleep.

“I would like a coffee,” Seungmin pointed out while Minho was scrolling something on his phone. Hyunjin was still staring at you, trying to decide if Chan was openly flirting with you or if he was being subtle about it. “Should we go with the others?”

“I better get upstairs,” Minho commented with a self-deprecating laugh. “If I don’t go to sleep soon after Si-yeon, she’ll turn into an actual human-sized ice cube and try to steal all of my warmth.”

Seungmin laughed about that on his way to the kitchen, but Hyunjin stayed on the couch. He had a nice view of you here, and he saw how you responded to Chan’s compliments. He could tell that Chan was asking about your baking. He heard him complain that baking had never been his strength, that it was why the dessert menu wasn’t particularly elaborate.

“Would you teach me sometime?” Chan asked you. You were leaning on the counter in front of him, hands crossed over your chest, watching him carefully. “The éclairs… or that matcha cheesecake, you know?”

As if he had known you would glance at him, Hyunjin looked away just in time but still saw from the corner of his eyes that you were now the one observing him. He simply stared at the TV where some boring infomercial was on. He did not hear your response, but he heard Seungmin making a comment about the cheesecake.

Seungmin left soon after, telling everyone he was going to watch a drama with his coffee, as his room was equipped with a TV. He politely invited him, but Hyunjin refused, pretending he was too tired for it.

But he just wanted to keep watching you.

You, snacking on a sugar cookie as you listened to Chan. The way you held the mug, not by its handle, to warm up your hands. The way your tits bounced a little when you laughed, or when you pushed your hair behind to come see something that Chan was showing you on his phone, revealing your neck and some of your shoulder. Hyunjin could not describe you, but he knew he would miss you if he left God’s Menu. When he left it.

He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

But he knew that your bare neck made him hard. He knew that the sight of your tongue licking off powdered sugar on your velvety lips made his cock twitch. Maybe it was all the wine, but Hyunjin was certain that if he stayed here in your vicinity, he would make a mess in his pants.

He got up and, without a word, made his way to his room. So what if you fucked Chan? He was a nice guy, after all. Maybe tonight had been eye-opening for you. Maybe Minho and Si-yeon’s engagement had helped you find some peace, finally. And if that was the case, Hyunjin was glad.

But he also wanted to be the one in the kitchen with you, wanted you to teach him how to make sugar cookies. He wanted to taste them in your mouth, wanted to kiss your lips, your neck, your pussy.

Hyunjin painfully made it to his room. He had lucked out—he did not have to share it, but his room wasn’t particularly big, it was on the highest floor and had a large window that showed the beautiful scenery around. It was also equipped with a private bathroom, which would come in handy right about now because he needed to relieve his aching cock and also needed to wash himself off—he always felt so fucking filthy when you made him hard like that.

He couldn’t help it. And it was why he figured it might be best if he just left.

Hyunjin unzipped his pants and left them on the floor by the door with his boxer briefs. Spitting into his palm as he let the shower warm up, Hyunjin took himself in his hand, not even glancing down at his shame. He knew what he’d see anyway, and if he stared too much at his flushed, leaking cock, he would imagine it between your legs or in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around his tip…

Hyunjin whimpered at that thought as he squeezed himself tighter before leaving his cock to fondle his balls gently. He twitched at that and entered the shower stall, letting the warm water calm him down for a while as he rubbed his now fully hard cock.

He didn’t want this to be elaborate or anything—he couldn’t wait to cum anyway. Maybe he should sleep with his noise-canceling headphones in case you did fuck Chan. If he heard, even faintly, a moan from you, it might be enough to make him lose his mind.

Hyunjin fucked his hand, legs going weaker and weaker the more he went, hoping the sound of running water would muffle his whines. You were so fucking pretty. He had a semi during the movie just from sitting next to you and smelling you, feeling the warmth of your body against his. He wondered how your tits would feel in his hands, wondered how they would look if he sucked on them while fucking your cunt with his fingers.

Most of the time, he was able to suppress those thoughts, especially in public settings. But not tonight—that was just too much. Earlier, when you were crying outside, he wanted to kiss you and take you away from this place, make you see how you deserved to be loved. Make you see that you were worth fighting for.

If only you’d let him.

If only it were your hand around him, working him to build up his release. Would you let him flood your mouth with his cum? He always came so much if it was to the thought of you…

And that’s what made him cum tonight—the thought of filling your cute little mouth with his cum, so much that your eyes would water. So much that it would spill from your lips and roll down your chin, all the way to your tits. Hyunjin felt a strong throb, almost losing his balance, and fucked his hand hard as he came, spurting white ropes that landed on the ceramic wall in front of him.

He continued to stroke himself gently as he came down from his high and used the showerhead to clean up his mess.

But even the shower gel didn’t wash off the shame. He felt bad. He was your friend, and he shouldn’t think things like that. It wasn’t his fault that he had fallen for you like that… But it wasn’t yours either.

He really, really didn’t want to leave. But he also didn’t really have a choice, did he?

Hyunjin did put on his noise-canceling headphones after his shower. He listened to some music while he relaxed on his bed, staring at the snow lazily falling outside. He almost wanted to go out there. After all, that’s what you had done earlier—fleeing outside to escape the overwhelming feelings of the moment. Yeah, maybe he should do that. Might just clear his mind a little and allow him to get some rest.

Hyunjin put on a pair of sweatpants to go along with his t-shirt and found woolen socks too. He made his way downstairs, where all the lights had been turned off. You were supposed to share a room with Min-seo, but something told him you weren’t with your friend. You were probably with Ch—

Hyunjin nearly died of a heart attack when he saw a shadow move on the couch. In the dark like that, it might have been a ghoul, a spirit, or something worse. But it turned out to be you.

He turned off his music and left the headphones hanging around his neck.

“Oh, sorry Hyun… Did I scare you?” You asked him, your voice full of concern. “I thought everyone had gone to bed.”

You had scared him but Hyunjin pretended he was completely calm. “I thought so too.” He chuckled nervously. His eyes were getting accustomed to the dark, so he was able to see that you were on the couch, which you had turned into a makeshift bed with the help of cushions and throw blankets. “What are you doing here anyway?”

You sighed. A sound so delightful it made Hyunjin forget why he was downstairs in the first place. He went to sit with you, on the space of the couch that you didn’t occupy. Your toes brushed against his thigh, and he couldn’t help but notice that they were a little cool. He pulled on the blanket covering you to make sure it could warm up your feet well and placed his hands on top to provide some kind of heat. You sighed again, and it made Hyunjin want to punch the wall.

“You’re so warm,” you commented, snuggling with the blanket. “Thanks, Hyunjin. Without the fire, it got cool pretty quickly in here.”

“Did Min-seo throw you out?” Hyunjin squeezed your feet a little, massaging them gently. He liked physical contact with you and there was no denying that, but more importantly he liked that it never felt forced or strange—something that was quite new to him who didn’t particularly enjoy any sort of skinship. “Were you perhaps snoring?”

“No!” You gave him a soft kick in his side. It didn’t hurt. It felt like a hug more than an attack. “God, I’m almost embarrassed to say it but… The door is locked, and… I think she’s in there with Jisung. If you know what I mean.”

Hyunjin laughed and you attempted another playful kick again, except this time he held your feet down, pressing his thumbs onto them and kneading carefully. He knew this wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that normal friends did, but he had pretty much made up his mind about leaving. And if tonight was the only chance he got at giving you a foot massage, then he would fucking grasp it.

“Oh, Hyunjin, fuck—” You moaned when his massaging reached the exact center of your feet. His brain heard the moan and sent a truckload of blood to his crotch, but Hyunjin took a deep breath to try and calm down. How fucking pathetic was it—you did a thing, he got hard, he jerked off. Rinse, repeat. You were his friend. He liked you for more than… this. He hated that his body seemed to disagree with that. “Oh, that’s really nice, hmm…”

He remembered catching a peek of the lavender nail polish on your toes earlier. “We do get sore feet from our jobs, don’t we?” he whispered, watching you get comfortable in the cushions. “I like your nail polish, it’s pretty.” You had pretty feet. Hyunjin liked it when you wore heeled sandals in the summer.

“You really don’t have to give me a foot massage, Hyunjin.” But you let him do it and he kept doing it. “Or is this part of the clinical study along with the magic potions and cake?”

“Absolutely it is.” Hyunjin was relieved for the touch of humor—it helped diffuse the tension he felt in his chest. However, it did not do much for the pressure he felt in his loins. “On the house!”

You didn’t laugh, but you hummed your appreciation again at his handling of your feet. Hyunjin decided to push the blanket a little so he could massage you directly, his skin touching yours. You were warming up but he did not want to stop, did not want to get up from this couch.

“I’m not really surprised,” he said, “for Ji and Min-seo, I mean.”

“Neither am I,” you grunted. “Just wish they’d have the decency to take my stuff out of the room before locking me out of it! Sleeping on the couch is one thing, but my toothbrush is in there, my clothes, my towel for a shower…”

You got a little more comfortable and put your feet on his thighs instead of next to him, and that concluded Hyunjin’s worst fear—having your feet inches away from his cock was enough to give him a semi.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure if it was his cock or his heart that spoke next, and he was greatly displeased with himself for that. “There’s a bathroom in my bedroom,” he reminded you. “I have extra towels and extra clothes… And I’m willing to bet Chan has an extra toothbrush somewhere.”

You thought about it. “Chan is the mom of the group.” You giggled. “Really? I’d just need a t-shirt and some shorts I guess… I hate going to sleep without a shower.”

“Let’s go.” Hyunjin didn’t like the idea of not touching your feet anymore, but he released them and you sat upright on the couch to gather your phone and phone charger. While you weren’t looking, he adjusted his cock in his pants, pretty confident that his loose t-shirt would hide the worst of it. “There are fees for the shower, though.”

“Oh really?” You followed him into the staircase, your footsteps as quiet as a cat’s. He liked to think that he had helped your sore feet a little. “A foot massage was free, but not a shower? What would warrant you charging for it? Are you gonna get in there and lather me?”

“That would be way out of your budget, no offense.” But Hyunjin’s cock twitched painfully in his underwear. God, that’s what he wanted to do, slide his hands all over you, foam dripping on your tits. He wanted to make you moan again. Still, he kept his friendly, lighthearted tone. “Unless you want to send the bill to Minho. One shower, one lathering, one rinse, one hair lathering, one hair rinsing… Fees would be piling up. He’d be broke, you’d ruin his wedding… Is that what you want?”

Instead of responding, you simply shoved Hyunjin against the wall and walked past him to get into his room before he did. But you laughed at his joke. You laughed. Could you really be over him, over Minho? What had happened between earlier tonight and now?

Hyunjin didn’t want to cultivate false hopes, and he was certain he would be more rational about it if there was more blood going through his brain. Instead, he went to his suitcase while you sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.

“You do have the best view,” you commented. “Look at the mountains…”

“After your shower, you can take the bed.” Hyunjin had found what he was looking for in this stuff—just a plain white t-shirt, but it was the softest he owned. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that, I’ll be just fine downstairs.” You took the shirt from him as well as the pair of black sweat shorts he handed you. “Don’t worry, Hyun.”

He figured he could just leave the room while you were in the shower and saw no point in arguing. Instead, he showed you the bathroom and gave you clean towels, assuring you he’d find a toothbrush for you somewhere. You stood in the bathroom for a while, staring up at him. A strand of your hair fell over your face and Hyunjin gently pushed it away. “Clean up,” he murmured. “Take all the time you need.”

He could not find the exact words to describe you, but he knew it felt like a soft summer day when he looked at you. Like a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot day. Like listening to his favorite song for the first time. Like listening to his favorite song for the thousandth time.

He was almost glad to exit the room but made sure to text Chan before knocking at his door to see if he was asleep. What a foolish that was though—to think that Chan would sleep. Not only was he awake, but he also had a few toothbrushes still in their packaging—he had bought a few extras for the group.

Of course.

“Jisung and Min-seo, eh?” Chan snorted after Hyunjin explained the situation. “We all saw that coming I guess.”

“We sure did.” Hyunjin took the toothbrush that Chan gave him and looked around the room. It was the smallest in the cabin, but it was cozy enough and had a TV. Chan had been watching a movie by the looks of it. “Better get going then, thanks Chan.”

“No problem.” Chan walked him to the door which, considering the size of the room, took about 0.02 seconds. “She’s in your room now, then?” Chan’s voice was full of acknowledgment.

Hyunjin froze for a second, barely daring to face Chan. In the end, he did turn to him, thankful for the darkness that concealed the color on his cheeks and whatever the hell was going on in his pants. “Yeah, she is.”

Chan’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Are you gonna shoot your shot then, or are you gonna keep staring at her from afar?”

Hyunjin’s fist closed around the cardboard packaging of the toothbrush, crumpling it a little. “What? I—”

“Oh come on, Hwang.” Chan gave him a gentle bump on the shoulder. “It’s pretty obvious. I don’t know if you thought you were being low key… But you were not.”

Hyunjin gulped. There was no point in denying anything, then. “I don’t think she… feels that way, Chan.”

Chan squinted, observing him carefully. “You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot, will you?”

Hyunjin had never even considered it—confessing his feelings to you. You were too precious to him, you were a friend he did not want to lose. But Chan was right. Hyunjin was struggling to live a normal life because of how strongly he felt for you, and he knew that even if he left the restaurant, those feelings wouldn’t magically disappear.

“Weren’t you hitting on her earlier?” Hyunjin pointed out.

“Not really.” Chan shrugged. “She doesn’t see me like that. She wouldn’t even give me the recipe for the cake she baked for your birthday. She said it was a special creation for you.” Again, Chan gave him a bump on the shoulder but also shoved him farther into the hallway. “Get the girl, man. Or else you’ll regret it for a long time I think.”

Hyunjin stared at the door long after Chan had closed it. He trusted his friend, trusted that he wouldn’t give it this advice if it was a bad idea… But if Hyunjin’s crush on you was so obvious, you must have noticed it, too. And Minho and the others…

But you. You hadn’t changed anything in the way you treated him, had you? Which, to Hyunjin, made it obvious that you did not reciprocate his feelings.

But Chan was right. Those feelings had a right to be spoken out loud. Hyunjin feared that if he kept them all to him, they would drown him someday.

So he returned to his room and left the toothbrush on a desk near the bathroom door. He sat on his bed, eyes fixated on the wall in front of him. He tried turning on the TV but nothing was interesting. The sound of his heartbeat became deafening when the shower stopped running and he heard you move around in the bathroom. He cleared his throat and told you that he left a toothbrush by the door for you and that you were welcome to use his toothpaste. He still had its minty aftertaste in his mouth.

When you came out of the bathroom for good, Hyunjin noticed many things at once. Your hair looked so pretty when it was damp and messy. It had dripped a little on the white shirt and it made the fabric wet a little. The clothes he had given you looked good on you, and you looked comfortable in them—it suited you. You were not wearing a bra under the shirt. You were also not wearing socks, and Hyunjin’s brain jumped to the conclusion that you must not be wearing underwear either since all of your stuff was locked in your room.

Maybe that was it. Maybe the reason behind his insatiable lust for you was that he had kept all of these feelings bottled up for too long.

“Thanks for the shower, the shirt…” You were holding your neatly folded clothes. “I bet I’ll sleep much better now.”

“You can leave your clothes here if you want,” Hyunjin offered. “Actually… I was thinking this bed is big enough for the two of us. If you want. I can go downstairs and sleep on the couch too, it’s totally fine—”

“No, it’s okay.” For a second there, Hyunjin thought you were going to say no. He couldn’t read the expression on your face. It looked as if you were trying to understand a language you did not speak. “You’re right, the bed is kind of big. How come you got that room anyway? It’s the nicest in the whole place!”

“Just sheer luck.” Hyunjin shrugged, feeling a burst of relief.

“More like ass-kisser shit, you mean.” You laughed at that, making your way to the other side of the bed. Hyunjin had made sure you had the side that was closest to the window. “Minho this, Minho that…”

“You could try not to sound so jealous, you know?” Hyunjin wondered how far he should go with the joke, but the spiced wine and sweet vermouth had softened his edges. “Some time ago you would have been the one to Minho this, Minho that, and most likely did kiss his ass in the very literal sense of the term, so—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hwang!” The sound of your laughter at that moment reminded Hyunjin of an upbeat violin melody. “Maybe you’re jealous because you never sucked his dick!”

There was a silence after that but, as if on cue, Hyunjin and you laughed entirely too loudly for the hour of the night. You tried to muffle the sound of your voice by essentially burying your face into a pillow while Hyunjin pressed his fist to his mouth.

“You’re the worst,” Hyunjin concluded after the laughter episode had died down, which took several minutes. “I offer you shelter and this is how you thank me…”

“Oh, please.” You threw the pillow at him and gave him a shove for good measure. “Fucking drama queen.”

Hyunjin threw the pillow back at you and you simply put it back where you took it. Instead of sitting against it again, you lay down. You really did not have a bra on and Hyunjin could see your nipples. Fuck, he could almost feel them with his eyes, could only imagine how nice it must feel to rub them through the soft fabric of the white shirt.

After turning off the only source of lighting in the room, his bedside lamp, Hyunjin pulled the blankets over you gently before laying next to you and getting under the covers himself. There was still some light coming from outside, but just a little.

You looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Hyunjin wanted to kiss you. Wanted to hear all the stories from your childhood. Wanted to play with your hair and give you a million foot massages. He thought about what Chan had told him. He thought about the words he wanted to tell you, but they got stuck in his throat as if they were trying to choke him. Instead of trying to say anything, Hyunjin respectfully turned away from you and pushed himself a little farther on the bed.

It was quiet except for the ventilation system, his heartbeat, and your breathing. Steady, pretty. He wished he was still facing you. He wished he would smell mint in your mouth. His toothpaste. It was his toothpaste on your lips, his shirt hugging your enticing body.

Why did it mess with his head so much? Why did it make a difference that your nipples poked against the fabric of his shirt? Why did it make a difference that your hair smelled like his shampoo, that you were in his bed right now? Why did it make a difference that it was his shorts that hugged your ass, your hips, your pussy?

Because he had wanted this for so long. He had wished for this—something like this—for a long time. Something disgustingly domestic, like waking up next to you in the morning and making you breakfast or fucking you or offering to go take a walk with you. Doing your laundry with his laundry. Picking up dinner and eating it quietly with a glass of wine before making love to you in your living room, and then again in the bed he shared with you.

The problem with unspoken feelings is they grow and grow and grow. Much like any type of flora would—every smile, every word, every whiff of your perfume, every bite of a dessert you made, every time he thought of you, it just fed them, those feelings. And so they grew. You were the sunshine and the rainfall. Hyunjin wanted to mix drinks and name them after you, or after the small pink scar behind your ear.

He never knew how you got it. That scar. He’d never know, right? Why would he ask about a half-centimeter long scar that he definitely should not have noticed?

Torture. The sweetest kind of it.

Hyunjin heard the brushing of your body against the sheets. He expected you to turn your back to him as well, so his heart jumped hard in his chest when he felt your hand reach for him under the covers. You squeezed his arm. “Hyunjin,” you whispered, “goodnight. Thank you for everything.”

You didn’t move, so Hyunjin did—he brought his other hand to rest it on top of yours. “You don’t have to thank me. Goodnight, and don’t hesitate to pull the blankets back your way if I steal them.”

You giggled softly. God, you were so fucking beautiful, even your giggles were beautiful, and you were right there, your hand on him. His cock twitched, reminding him that he was pretty much living his fantasy right now—so why was he stunned like that?

“No, thank you for everything.” There was more brushing of fabric and Hyunjin felt the warmth from your body closer to his. You pulled your hand away from him but rested your head on his side. He suppressed a whimper, and couldn’t help but cup his crotch under the blankets—his underwear was starting to feel a little tight. “You’re always so kind to me. You always come find me when I think I want to be alone. And I do, but it’s better with you. I don’t know how I’d do it without you. So, yeah. Thanks. For being my friend. For the drinks with the maraschino cherries. For everything.”

The delightful weight of your head disappeared from him, but you stayed close anyway, close enough that he felt your breath against the nape of his neck. Faintly. But it was there. “You don’t have to thank me for that. You’re… important to me.”

In the silence of the room, Hyunjin heard you gulp. Your fingers found him again as you traced a heart on his back. “You’re important to me too, you know. I meant what I said. I don’t think I would still be working at the restaurant if it weren’t for you.”

Hyunjin could have jumped out the window and landed in a pile of snow and it would have had about the same effect as you saying this to him, today, tonight. Your warmth embracing him. The smell of his shampoo on your hair.

He took a deep breath, thinking about the text message he had gotten from Felix earlier this afternoon. The text message that, seemingly, Hyunjin had been hoping to get for weeks.

Felix, his friend, his roommate, worked at a big real estate office. He was the main assistant of an agent who specialized in small businesses.

One month ago, Hyunjin had realized that he was in love with you.

He wanted to know about the scar. He wanted to hold your hand. He wanted to whisper things into your ear that would make you blush, that would make you wet. He wanted to introduce you to his parents.

One month ago, you told Hyunjin that you didn’t think it would be a good idea to come here, with the rest of them, with Minho. One month ago, you told Hyunjin, ‘I don’t love him anymore. Minho. I really don’t. I don’t think it’s for me. Love.’

This afternoon, Felix texted him this: ‘We found a nice location. In a hip neighborhood, good market value, would be worth checking out absolutely, it might sell fast. I see it there, Hyunjin. Your bar. It’s perfect for it.’

“What if I didn’t work there?” Hyunjin asked you, his voice barely a whisper at all. “What if I left?”

You remained quiet for such a long time that Hyunjin thought maybe you hadn’t heard him, or had fallen asleep. He wished your hand was still on his arm, your cool fingers reminding him of the first day of spring. “Why are you saying that? Are you… are you leaving the restaurant?”

Hyunjin bit his lip and rolled into the bed until he faced you again. God. If he had to describe you now, he would say you looked like the love of his life. Hyunjin had never been particularly good at restraining his feelings.

“I… I thought… Maybe I should pursue something else,” Hyunjin admitted, and he did not mean his own business versus the restaurant, he meant to keep going on in his life versus… you. “I—Felix found a small place, where I could have my own bar. You know?”

A long sequence of discernable emotions went through your eyes. Shock, pride, disappointment. Happiness, sadness.

Sadness. Sadness.

Melancholy. Sorrow. Sorrow.

“Your own bar…” Your voice was strangled and Hyunjin was almost sure it was tears he was seeing in your eyes. Understandable—he did spend a lot of time with you at and outside work, and it was normal to fear a change in your routine. “I mean, that’s… that’s amazing, Hyunjin—you’ll do amazing, you’ll be so great, I—”

He saw the tear roll down your cheek and he wasn’t fast enough to reach it, but he managed to stop the second one before it made it to your chin. Your hair was spread around your head on the pillow and you stared at him, trying so hard to conceal your disappointment. “Hey there, why the tears?” he asked, sliding his face closer to yours.

You shook your head. “No, don’t mind me, I’m… I’m really happy for you, Hyunjin, I mean it, I just… I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you a lot.” You cupped his face, sending a shockwave through Hyunjin’s whole body. “But you should absolutely do what makes you happy.”

“I haven’t decided for sure,” Hyunjin revealed, wishing you would brush your thumb over his mouth. He would take it in between his lips and suck on it, twirl his tongue around it. “I’m… I like the restaurant too.”

“But it’s okay to want more,” you insisted, letting go of his face. “You make the best drinks. Why would you want to stay when you could have your own bar?”

Why would Hyunjin want to stay?

And when the words he wanted to say took too much space in his heart, in his throat, they became sick. Much like planting flowers in a pot that was too small for them. They would die, no matter how much sunshine and rain they get. Or maybe the flowers find a way to survive—maybe their roots find their way out, thriving in harsh conditions but staying.

So Hyunjin just told the truth. “I don’t want to leave you.”

You stared at him, stared at his eyes, your mouth parted open. “Me?” You licked your lips, a small frown appearing between your brows. “But… we’d still be friends even if you worked some other place, right?”

The problem with the truth is you can’t just say a little of it. Once it started coming out, the spill couldn’t be stopped. It just kept going. “Maybe, but you deserve better friends than me.”

“That’s ridiculous, Hyunjin, I—”

“You said love wasn’t for you.” Finally. Finally, he was reaching the focal point of it, of the strings that tugged at his heart. “And it’s okay. But that means I can’t stay.”

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it back immediately. You pulled away from him, just slightly, your eyes trailing down somewhere, but all that Hyunjin could feel was the weight lifting off his heart, his mind.

You opened your mouth again so he looked at it. He wanted to see the shape of your lips when you would speak to him again, wanted to see your tongue dance the words into existence. He had dreamt about that mouth, about the feeling of it on his skin. But if those lips said his name and called him your friend, that was okay. Hyunjin should have known. That your maraschino cherry mouth would remain a place he would only visit in his mind.

“Hyunjin.” He had never noticed the shape of your lips when you spoke his name, the way they barely moved, the way his name rolled off them like an accident.

“How did you get the scar?” Hyunjin asked. “The scar behind your ear.”

You took a deep breath, and Hyunjin noticed there were still a few rogue tears staining your cheeks. He thumbed them off slowly, and he thought you were going to pull his hand away from you, but you didn’t. “The scar?”

He let go of your face so that the tip of his fingers touched the exact spot where he knew the scar was. You breathed in again, your eyes wide, full of tears, like lakes under the moonlight. “The scar?” Your voice was trembling. “I… fell off my bike, when I was twelve… and the pendant of my necklace…”

Your lips moved like trees in the wind, and Hyunjin couldn’t look away from them. You brought your hand to rest on top of his. It felt good. He liked it when you touched him.

“Did it hurt? When you fell?” He knew it was a stupid question, but the scar had bothered his curious nature for a while.

“I scraped my knees, and… yes, it hurt, but not too much.” You sighed, biting your lip gently. “Are you really leaving because of me?”

Hyunjin sighed. “It’s ok,” he said under his breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll go sleep downstairs, yeah?”

“But—” You slid closer to him on the bed, so close that he smelled mint on your breath. “Hyunjin, no… stay with me. Don’t go.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help it. He ran his hand through your damp hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your hands made their way to him, clinging to his shirt, tugging gently as if you were afraid of falling. “Why did you say that?” you questioned, and your eyes were on his mouth, and his on yours. “About me, about love?”

“You know why, don’t you?” He trailed his hand down from your hair to the side of your neck. You raised your chin, exposing your skin further to him. An invitation or an act of defiance, he couldn’t tell. “You know why I always put the maraschino cherries in your drinks.”

“Say it.” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if he heard you speak the words or if he read them on your lips, but he understood anyway. “Say it, Hyun.”

Hyunjin’s heart threatened to spill out from his mouth, but he managed to keep his breathing steady. There was still some truth to be spoken, so he obliged. “I don’t like you the way you like me,” he said. But what he wanted to say was that he loved you.

“You don’t know that,” you pointed out, pressing yourself closer to him. “You don’t know.”

Hyunjin settled his hand right where your neck met your face, holding you there. Half of your face basked in the moonlight and the other half of it was in the dark. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Your lips were calling for him. Your beauty begging to be witnessed, your tongue demanding freedom.

So, Hyunjin pulled you close, and he kissed you. Gently at first, just pressing his lips against your mouth, but it was enough to make him reach another plane of existence. The smell of you was stronger from so close, your lips so soft against him.

But it wasn’t enough.

Your lips were warm, wet, smooth. Hyunjin deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to devour yours. You moaned into his mouth, just a low hum, but it almost made him cum in his pants. He pressed you against his chest, your tits flush with him as you kissed him more and more and more, enough to make him dizzy. That sweet mouth of yours, that pretty mouth of yours.

Your tongue teased his, just the way you played with the maraschino cherries. Hyunjin lapped at your mouth, desperate, tasting you, breathing your air, his fingers sinking into your waist. You moaned again, louder, responding to the kiss with your whole body.

Your hands ran under his shirt, gliding on his skin. You lifted your leg just enough to pass it over his, deepening the kiss even further, exploring his mouth, his chest, him.

You dug your nails into his back when you felt him against your crotch.

“Fuck—” you managed, your mouth still on his. The sounds of the kiss were enough to drive him crazy. Soft, wet sounds, as if each twirl of your tongue was a symphony, each sigh a crescendo that would surely lead to his demise.

Painfully, Hyunjin pulled away from you but kept your face in his hand. You leaned into it, the tears in your eyes all gone, replaced by something darker, something purple and deep. “Hold on—are you… are you sure about this? We…” He sighed. It was hard to think with your body so close to his, but he didn’t want you to wake up with regret tomorrow. Not for any reason, but certainly not because of him.

“I’m sure.” You kissed him again, but not for long—your mouth trailed down from his to settle in his neck, kissing him there, sucking his skin between your lips while your hands ran marathons on his body, teasing the waistband of his pants. “Do you want this, Hyunjin?”

He did not hesitate. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

You left his neck to look him in the eyes. He could feel you growing warmer by the second, as you rubbed yourself onto him, softly, barely. “Then take me.” You kissed him once, twice, as if testing the waters of him.

He kissed you back, holding your head in both of his hands. If you needed to breathe, it would wait—he had been waiting a long time for this, not daring to even hope he would ever be the reason you sighed, the reason your skin flushed with heat.

Without breaking the kiss, Hyunjin rolled until he lay on his back and pulled you along with him. You bit into his lower lip as you settled onto him, straddling him with your knees on either side of his thighs. Your weight rested all onto his aching cock. He bucked his hips into you and you moaned again. God, he would never fucking get tired of that sound. Just you, your voice. Needy.

“I don’t have protection.” In hindsight, that was stupid, but at least he was honest about his stupid decision. He slid his hands under your shirt to feel up your tits. They occupied a nice space in his palms, your nipples hard and nice, tickling him.

“I don’t want it,” you replied, diving down to kiss him. “Do you? It’s okay. I’ll suck you off, Hyun…”

“N—no, no I want it. I want you.” It was true. He vaguely knew from overheard conversations that you were on contraceptives. He also knew that neither of you had an actual sex life… “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Please fuck me. Please fill me.” It was Hyunjin’s turn to moan then, his eyelids fluttering at your words. “I feel you, so hard, Hyun.”

He nodded with a hum. “Feel me with your hands if you want,” he invited. He pleaded. He begged. So that it would feel real. Because it did not now. It did not feel real.

Your hands left his abdomen and disappeared somewhere between your legs. You cupped him at first, then squeezed him. Hyunjin whimpered, squeezing your tits in return, but you squeezed him harder, and harder, and harder. Not too hard. Hard enough to make him throb and groan and rut against you quicker. You let him, you let him fuck your hand through the fabric.

“Let me see you.” You slid down a little, exposing his very noticeable hard on. You took in the sight of his bulge before pulling down on his waistband to free his cock. He wasn’t just hard, he was about to cum. He stared with you at his flushed length. “Hyun…”

You leaned down a little, just a little, and pulled his chin back up to make him look at you. You made eye contact with him as you released a large amount of spit that landed directly on his cock.

“So big,” you commented, closing your hand around his base, squeezing him a little, feeling him. “You’re so fucking big.” You gave him a gentle stroke to smear your saliva around. “Your cock is so pretty, Hyun.”

He twitched in your hand and he could tell that you felt it. While you rubbed him, Hyunjin pulled your shirt off, exposing you. Finally, he saw you. Your tits, so pretty, round, perfect. They moved with you as you kept jerking him off slowly, observing him to find his favorite spots. Your other hand played with his balls, cupping them, palming them.

“I… I won’t…”

“Close already?” You cocked your head to the side, not stopping one bit from what you were doing. If anything, you only got faster, spitting disrespectfully on his cock again to facilitate your job further. “You want to show me your load, Hyun? Want me to see how much you cum for me?”

No, no, he wanted to fuck you all night. Until you were a mess, a sloppy mess of his cum and yours, and until the both of you were reduced to nothing. But his cock had other plans. He twitched in your palm again, harder, painfully, with a moan. “I won’t last,” he whined, going back to feel up your tits again.

“You feel me too, Hyun.” You thumbed precum off his tip in a slow, meaningful swipe. “Feel how wet you made me already.”

Hyunjin reached between your legs, brushing the fabric there only to find it soaked. He slid his hand through the leg opening to feel you directly, skin to skin. Your bare pussy felt like the softest velvet. He touched you, again and again, gentle caresses that made you flinch. That made you squeeze his cock.

You brought your head closer to his navel, kissing him there first before kissing the base of his cock. You opened your mouth wide to suck on his skin there, your hand working on the upper half of his length.

Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to take it for much longer, but he let go. The pressure between his legs was too grand, the ache only getting worse, the pleasure only getting bigger and better. Uncontrollable. He left his three fingers pressed on your pussy so that you could grind against them—and you did. You rolled your hips to the same rhythm of your handjob, seeking something out of it too.

Time slowed down when you went back up to take him in your mouth. Hyunjin felt you clench when you swiped your tongue on him, tasting him. You bobbed your head around him, swallowing as much of him as you could. Hyunjin’s free hand closed into a fist in your hair as he rolled his hips just a little, helping you.

Your mouth was warm, so wet. He watched his cock disappear between your swollen lips, and that was enough for him. He felt the throb, felt his whole soul shatter—but when he tried to pull out, you didn’t let him, so he fucked your mouth erratically. He never wanted this to stop, but his balls were so tight that they hurt him.

“So—fucking—pretty—” he grunted in between thrusts. At that, you raised your eyes to stare at him, opening your mouth wider, spreading your legs wider, too, allowing him better access to your hole, to your clit. You were dripping wet though, and you clenched again when he rubbed circles on your clit, moaning around his cock.

He came—of course. The vibrations of your voice sent him to the stratosphere, and Hyunjin thrust into you, the roof of your mouth hitting his tip. Soft, wet. Your tongue was twirling on the underside of his cock, your hand squeezing him at the base. Milking him. You were fucking milking him, and looking like a slut doing so. On your knees, ass up in the air, tits exposed—a mouth meant to be filled with his thick cum.

He throbbed again and cried out when he released the first spurt of it, then there was another, and another. It was coming out from the corner of your lips, dripping on your chin. You gagged a few times and there were tears in your eyes, but you kept him in your mouth until he descended from his high.

When you were sure he was done, you released his cock, coughing a little, and waited until he was staring at you before swallowing his load. He didn’t let you wipe the rest of it from your lips—he kissed you instead, hard, your mouth full with the taste of him, lips raw and swollen.

“I taste nasty,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers still teasing your dripping cunt.

“Sort of, but I like it.” You pressed your forehead against him, almost collapsing when he changed the angle at which he was touching you. He needed more than that. Than just touching you like that—if post-nut clarity was real, it had hit him, but not in the usual meaning of it.

He removed his hand from you and kissed you before making you lay on your back. He got rid of his clothes and pulled his shorts off you too. His cock hadn’t even had time to soften and he felt it becoming hard again at the sight of your pussy.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Open your legs will you, baby? Show me how wet you are.” He could smell you from here, and even your scent was unreal. “So pretty.”

Even in this little light, there was no denying that you were aroused. Hyunjin pushed your legs open a little more, brushing his thumb over your pussy. It made a wet sound when he touched you, even barely. You rolled your hips to get more contact, your back arching already.

Unreal. It’s all that Hyunjin could think as he watched you writhe in this bed, tits moving lazily with you, face twisted in anticipation. He had thought about this moment a lot and he was afraid it was slipping through his fingers. He was afraid it wasn’t real, he was afraid he was dreaming it. That he would wake up tomorrow in an empty bed, without the sweet scent of your cunt on his fingers.

He straddled you much like you had straddled him earlier, bending down to kiss you while he parted your pussy open, allowing him better access to it, and watched carefully as he coated his fingers with your cream. Even that was pretty about you, creamy, nice.

Hyunjin observed your face at the very moment he slid two fingers in your dripping cunt. The way it made more of your arousal gush around his digits was lewd, but the look on your face was better—how you were trying to hold back, to keep it together, but you were already clenching, your hips bucking to meet him halfway.

“So tight, baby, can you feel that?” Hyunjin sank his fingers deeper, twirling them carefully, stretching you. “Open your legs wider, I wanna see.”

Yes, much better. He watched his fingers as he fucked you with them before pressing his thumb on your clit, rubbing it delicately. You let out a few more moans and Hyunjin wondered if anyone could hear you from up here.

They probably could.

Maybe some perverted part of him hoped Minho would hear him ruin his ex’s pretty little cunt. What a fool he was for letting you go. If that pussy had been his, Hyunjin would have tried harder to make it work.

Hyunjin kissed you, fucking you diligently with his fingers as your hands ventured on his body. Your touches were slow, meaningful, electric, made him moan or hiss if you touched him in a sensitive place.

He left your lips to kiss your neck but moved onto your tits quickly, leaving wet kisses and a trail of spit behind him. He took your nipple in his lips, twirling his tongue around it, loving the way you reacted to him. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, fucking his hand from below. Your arousal pooled beneath you, smeared all over your inner thighs and his hand, all the way to his wrist.

You moaned when Hyunjin sucked on your nipple hard enough to leave a bruise. He thought about the scar, how a fall from your bike had marked you forever. Maybe he wanted that his falling in love with you left a scar, too, in the most delightful way. So that you would wear his love on your body, like perfume, a reminder, a warning.

When he left your tits it was to settle comfortably with his face between your legs. He kissed your inner thighs, inhaling you. “How come you smell so fucking good baby?” He kissed all over your thighs and mons, finally pulling his fingers out of your hole. “Bet you taste even better.”

“Please, I need you now…” But Hyunjin took his time, still using his thumb and index finger to open up your pussy for him.

You glistened under the moonlight, inviting, beautiful. Swollen clit, a pussy meant to be licked, tasted, experienced. He brought his face closer to your core, giving your clit a quick kiss before going tongue first, dragging it along your slit in one swipe, filling his mouth with you. Fuck, you tasted good. Sweet, with just enough of a tang to make him want more.

He pressed his face flush into your cunt, slurping you clean, swallowing you whole. “Fucking hell…” but he said it into your pussy, because he didn’t want to get out of there, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with his face coated with your sweet cream.

Hyunjin lapped at you, listening to the sounds of his mouth against you, your sighs, your moans. When he cocked his head to the side, delving deeper into you, pushing his tongue into your hole, he felt your walls flutter against him, around his tongue, felt your legs tense up. “Close, baby?” he muttered into your cunt, and you responded by bringing your knees together, trapping him between your legs. Fine. Perfect, even. There was not a place on earth where Hyunjin wanted to be more than the heaven that your cunt was.

Hyunjin coated two of his fingers again—it wasn’t hard, considering the amount you were soaking, considering that he was literally drooling all over your pussy—and pushed them into you before closing his lips around your clit, carefully, as if you were made of the finest porcelain. The calm before the storm—Hyunjin intended on making you scream.

You hugged his fingers so nicely that he almost forgot to suck on your clit. He flicked his tongue on it first, gently with small licks, his eyes on you. On how beautiful you looked with your mouth parted open, eyes closed. He was used to the sound of your voice but not like this, not hurried whispers, not soft-spoken pleas. It messed with his mind, as in, he liked it a little too much.

But he sucked on your clit, unbothered by your increasingly loud moans, your squirming, and his own heart racing in his chest. Or by how tightly your thighs kept him there, making him a prisoner of the loveliest prison. It almost made him blow on the spot when you pulled harder on his hair to grind against his face and impaled yourself onto his hand at a quicker pace.

Hyunjin knew you were close so he rotated his fingers upwards and bent them just enough, searching for your most sensitive spot. He couldn’t help releasing your clit for one second, just the time it took for him to press his tongue flat against your pussy to collect as much of your arousal as he could. Just to swallow more of it, in the hopes that it would coat his throat, that his body would absorb some of it somehow, and that you would become a part of him, just like he had become a part of you.

“Cum for me,” he said, looking into your eyes, although you couldn’t keep yours open for very long. “Let me feel you, baby. Please.”

You dug your nails into his scalp when Hyunjin’s lips returned to your clit and he tenderly sucked on it, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, too. Your head hit the pillow behind you and you cried out, your whole body coming alive. “Yes yes yes don’t stop don’t stop—”

Hyunjin savored you, savored the way your back arched for him, savored every drop that you gave him and the scratches you were undoubtedly leaving on his scalp. He moaned with you as your climax came, as he rubbed his fingers on the spot of your cunt that made you react the most, his free hand holding you down to make sure that you weren’t escaping his hungry mouth.

“I’m—” You couldn’t say it but you didn’t need to—Hyunjin felt the throb, somewhere deep within your body, felt it like a wave, then like a tsunami. It overtook you, shaking you from the inside out, as your voice filled the room. “Yes, yes… FUCK—Jin—Hy—Jin—” But you were just crying out nonsense, coating Hyunjin’s face with your sweet cream as your walls closed tight around his fingers, fluttering for a good while as he kept your clit enclosed in his mouth.

And he only released you when your high had passed. He licked you gently, selfishly, to drink you. To clean you up. To taste you. He kissed your pussy, admiring how much prettier it was when it was flushed like that and wet, so wet. “You did so good, baby.” He kissed your thigh before climbing back up to kiss you. He felt you search for your own taste in his mouth and shared it with you eagerly, enjoying the way your flavor made his much more palatable.

“Will you fuck me now, Hyun?” Your voice was rough and your face flushed, but Hyunjin had never seen something as beautiful as that in his life.

“How do you like it, baby?” He kissed you gently as your hands reached for his cock, tugging at it. You moaned when you found him fully hard, ready for you.

You kissed him with your mouth open, squeezing his erection. “Hard.” Another kiss. “As hard and as deep as you can. Don’t be afraid to hurt me.”

It would have been enough to send him over the edge, but Hyunjin managed to roll you on your stomach. He wasted no time taking his cock into his hand and guiding it towards your entrance, making sure to coat it with your cream beforehand. Elegant. His cock was flushed dark, and the contrast of your essence on him was that—elegant. Enticing. Addictive.

You were beautiful like that too, even if he missed the sight of your face and your tits. Your back was nice, smooth, your ass just perfect for him to grab at.

He gave your ass a gentle slap, eliciting a moan out of you. “Higher, baby.” He watched you adjust your position, arching your back in a way that allowed him the perfect angle. “Yes, just like that.” He put one hand on your waist, squeezing your skin, aligning himself with your hole.

Hyunjin sank into you, losing more of his sanity the more of him you took. The deeper he buried himself in your intimacy, the more of himself he lost, the more of himself he found again. Maybe Hyunjin found god then, as he stretched your pretty little cunt with his cock.

“Fucking hell, you’re tight—” He stayed there for a few seconds as you got adjusted to him. The sight of him disappearing with you had been a little too good.

“Fuck me, Hyun.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow your face rested upon. Hyunjin slapped your ass again, a little harder.

You clenched around him, your walls responding to his touch.

So Hyunjin gave one thrust, then another, and another, fucking you steadily, his cock twitching menacingly. You were wet, gushing around him, and he couldn’t stop staring at his length pounding into you, making a wet mess out of you. You whimpered every time he bottomed out, holding onto the wooden headboard with one hand, your other hand trying to reach for him behind you.

Hyunjin rolled his hips with broad and confident movements, making sure to hit that one spot that you had seemed to like earlier. You mewled, face twisted with pleasure. So vocal, so pretty.

“Such a beautiful slut you are, baby.” Hyunjin’s hand left your waist to grab your hair, raising your face up. He wasn’t going to let you muffle your voice when you creamed his cock. “Close, aren’t you?”

The room smelled like sex and it made Hyunjin dizzy, or maybe it was just from the ache in his loins. Except not—he was sure he was drunk on the scent of your cunt. Such a smooth pussy, perfect for his cock.

“Hyunjin…” Your voice was just a breath. Hyunjin kept fucking you as deep as he could, hand in your hair. He was where he had wanted to be for so long—balls deep in your pussy. And it was good, so good.

He let out a cry when he felt the telltale throb of his orgasm, his pounding becoming erratic. He would have tried to last longer but the second he glanced at your face and noticed how fucked out you looked—swollen mouth, flushed cheeks, eyes rolling far at the back of your head—Hyunjin just couldn’t prevent it.

He pushed himself at your deepest point when he came just so he could empty his balls there, painting you white, fucking his cum deeper into you as you clenched, then came around him. He blacked out. All that he could feel what his cock and you, the squelching sounds of your filled cunt lewd enough to corrupt a monk. You pulsed for a long time, moaning his name, milking him for the second time tonight, until he was empty.

When Hyunjin let go of your hair, you collapsed onto the bed and he followed you, his spent cock sliding out of your sloppy cunt. It rested on his thigh as he lay on his side, facing you, watching you with a smile as you tried to even your breathing.

You smiled too and pulled him in for a kiss that tasted like sweat and like sex. He kissed you back with his mouth wide open. “Am I dreaming?” he asked against your mouth.

“No, silly.” You clicked your tongue and gave him a playful shove.

“God, you’re pretty. You’re perfect.” He kissed you again and again before reaching the nightstand for a box of tissues.

You didn’t let him clean you up. Instead, you rested your head in the crook of his neck, kissing him gently there. He shivered, his body covered in chills. “I like the feeling of it inside me, Hyun.” You giggled nervously. “Just leave it there for a while, yeah?”

“You’re filthy.” But he laughed too. “I love it.” He kissed the top of your head and brought his hand between your legs, feeling his cum dripping from your swollen cunt.

Gently, he swiped the excess of it and pushed it back into your still sensitive hole using his fingers, making you hiss and moan against the supple skin of his neck. “No waste,” he assured.

“No waste,” you echoed, your voice sleepy. Still, you insisted on licking his fingers clean after he was done putting his cum back where it belonged. “Can I stay for the night? I’m tired.”

“Stay for the night, baby,” Hyunjin whispered into your hair, pulling the covers over your body. “Stay for every night after today too, if you want.”

You settled comfortably in his arms, tracing circles on his abdomen. “Really?” You looked up at him, your tired eyes big and hopeful.

“Really.” He kissed you, a gentle kiss. “Sleep a little.” He could feel your heartbeat. Steady, strong. Like a song.

You nodded but didn’t even have time to say goodnight before you drifted to sleep. Your body was warm against him and he could smell your pussy and his cum on both of you. He felt your gentle breathing on his skin. You would be in his bed when he would wake up later.

Maybe it was starting to feel real. Just maybe.

Three months later, Hyunjin left his car in the employee parking lot at God's Menu. It hit him then. It would be the last time he ever did that. He sat in the car, watching the spring sunset over him. He could hear the music playing in the restaurant from here, could see the clients through the window. He knew it wasn’t the last time he ever set foot in this establishment, but Hyunjin couldn’t help feeling emotional today.

His last day as an employee of this restaurant.

He entered through the staff door, immediately tackled violently by Chan who hugged him tightly, shaking him hard enough to cause brain damage. But Hyunjin hugged him back, and let Jisung and the rest of the kitchen staff hug him too.

Changbin’s welcome was unsurprisingly loud and over the top, but Hyunjin also let him go at it, laughing with him as Seungmin filmed the scene.

Felix was there too, amongst the clients, sitting at a table not too far, and he waved at Hyunjin excitedly when they made eye contact. He wasn’t alone—he was drinking a red cocktail with someone who had ordered extra maraschino cherries in hers.

You got up from your chair and made your way to him, forcing Changbin to release him from his embrace.

“Hey,” you said with a smile. You looked ravishing tonight in a black cocktail dress, your hair held in a messy bun. Maybe you hadn’t had time to smooth it out after he had blown your back this morning, just before he left for his meetings. “Happy birthday, Hyun.”

“Hey baby.” Hyunjin pulled you close and kissed you as if you two had been alone in the restaurant or on this planet. You kissed him back, cocking your head to the side, mindfully taking his lips in yours. “You look gorgeous.” He kissed you again.

“How did the meetings go?” you asked, ignoring his compliment but taking his hand in yours. “Are we good?”

He noticed that the others had gathered around the two of you, all of the employees. Minho was there, too. “We’re all set.” Hyunjin smiled at you, just you. “We’ll open in two months.”

His bar. His little corner of the city where people would be welcome to sit down and unwind by having a drink while playing board games, or drawing, or hosting work meetings, even. His dream come true… well. Kind of.

How sappy would it make him if he ever admitted to you—or to himself—that you were the dream come true and that the bar came in second place?

The applause and loud, obnoxious congratulatory screams from his friends after his announcement soon switched into a familiar melody.

“Happy birthday Hyunjin…”

It may have been Min-seo that carried the plate, but Hyunjin recognized your matcha cheesecake with the raspberry coulis and a fancy candle. It was set in front of him at the counter of the bar section, and Hyunjin could feel warmth on his face as the whole restaurant—as in, the clients—joined the others to sing him Happy Birthday.

“Make a wish, Hyun,” you reminded him, your hand pressed on his lower back.

Hyunjin stared at the flame on the candle, thinking.

Last year’s wish had been granted, after all. You had baked him this matcha cheesecake once again for his birthday. So maybe he ought to wish for something a little bolder.

He kissed you before blowing the candle out, hoping that it would bring him good luck.

author's note: Big thank you to my lovely friend Mari, @staytheword, for letting me find inspiration for this story in her bartender!hyunjin from her fic The Smell of Roses. He made a very strong impression on me and inspired this character ♡

Thank you for reading this story! To those who choose to interact with it through a reblog, I am sending you a special thank you and extra love! ♡ As always, I am very grateful for my readers, and I hope everyone has been well and staying warm and healthy this December.

permanent taglist ♡ @cb97percent @changbinluvr @neosracha @hwan-g @streetlight-s @upallnight-s @j-0ne25 @tanyas97 @hyun-bun @hellishmoons @americanokisses @aimeexx

🪧 I do not allow the translation, reposting, rewriting or copying of any of my works of any kind, for any reason or on any platform. Thank you!

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