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breakyourrxles · 5 months ago

Text

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟙𝟘

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

↳ You become comfortable... and suppose you always knew that it would eventually lead to your breaking point.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [6,5k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

Eric's voice drops to just above a whisper and he says, "It's gotta be pretty obvious by now, right? Everything? I can promise you he isn't just handing out his personal information to any pretty girl at a fansign."

Weekends are long with music show promotions and additional schedules fitted into all of the potential breathing spots. Days feel as though they never truly end with the next starting shortly after and with next to no time in between. You're tired, you're overworked, but this is the life that you knew you were signing up for.

You are given a Monday. A single Monday morning where you are gifted by chance the opportunity to not have a schedule. Sleep feels as though it is an impossibility to ever truly catch up on, and your body is so used to waking at the early, dark hours of the night that even with nothing to do, rest can no longer find you.

Thus, you shoot off a text. A hope for companionship that carries no expectations along with it.

"Good morning, I've already got you a coffee. Looks like you could use it."

Juyeon's thoughtfulness is something you have grown only somewhat accustomed to, because he is inclined to think of things long before you have had the chance to. He smiles at you gently from his seat at the small table and the aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans and blooming pastries from the back of the building fills the room with otherwise quiet welcoming.

You sit down across from him and immediately drop your forehead to the table.

"That bad, huh?"

Groaning, you only barely lift yourself to grant him your attention. "I feel like I've been awake for a week straight."

"Yeah, that's not uncommon. There's more where that came from." Pushing the mug towards you, it lightly bumps your hand. "Drink up, I'm sure you've got stuff to do in the afternoon, too."

"Of course I do. There's always something."

Through idle conversation you discover that The Boyz are slated for a comeback in the not so distant future. It will be their first since MVNE's debut, and you're interested to watch the inner workings of a group you have followed as a fan for so long from the inside, rather than out. Maybe you can learn something from all of this; develop better time management, figure out a way to not feel as though all of your strength is being sucked out of your body each and every day.

Unfortunately, the expectations of a rookie group and that of a far more established one are different, and this is something that you know all too well already.

Eventually, Juyeon finishes his drink and shoves the empty mug off to the side. His elbow comes up to sit atop the polished wood of the table and his chin sits just inside of his palm. He looks at you with a sort of amused adoration that you've never quite seen from him, though you have seen it before.

"It's nice that we can meet like this," he says.

Something inside of your chest flutters ever so slightly, and that is wholly unexpected. You feel the same, because this is the closest thing you have to anything resembling what's left of your real and normal life.

It's so much easier to carve out normalcy with Juyeon than it is to do so with Sunwoo, a fact that is terribly unfair to either of you, but a fact nonetheless.

And Sunwoo is not the only person not currently present that springs to mind.

Nervously shifting in your seat, you chuckle under your breath and say, "Well, as it would turn out, there are other people who wouldn't mind having this opportunity to sit here with you."

Juyeon's eyes widen just for a second, seemingly surprised by the news.

"Is that so?"

"My member Nara," you begin, "Turns out she has taken quite a fancy to you." Neither of you say anything for a few long moments after that, and though you are somewhat expecting a response from him, nothing ever comes. So, you prompt him further by saying, "She's pretty, talented; has a strong personality that I actually think would match you quite well. What do you think?"

Giving something of a half-smirk, Juyeon sits back in his chair and slumps down just a bit. He crosses his arms over himself and looks up towards the ceiling as if he is mulling the information over in his mind thoroughly before ever offering up a response. While he does so, you simply watch and wait.

Finally, he sighs and says, "I can't say I'm really looking to get involved with anyone right now." His attention is still up and away; thoughtful and rife with consideration. "I'm sure she's lovely, and I certainly have noticed her on the stage, it's just…"

Juyeon trails off, and finally, his gaze falls back down squarely to you.

"It's not easy doing this. Meeting someone, getting to know them, navigating everything that comes before establishing whether or not we're a good fit for one another. It's a lot of work in the best of circumstances—when there's just two normal, curious people with an inkling of interest—much less given all of these added hurdles."

Leaning forward and fitting his chin into his palm once more, he smiles at you and says, "I'm afraid I'm just not up to the task right now, and particularly not with someone that I've not already traversed those hurdles with. I prefer it when it's easy, when it's natural." A contented sigh follows, and finally his smothering attention towards you breaks in favor of the croissant sitting on the plate between you. "I like to let things happen, and it'll all fall into place like it's meant to."

The spell you'd been inadvertently locked into breaks, and you're not sure you've taken a single breath while Juyeon's sights have been set on you.

When the music cuts off, you know what's waiting for you on the other side of it.

For now, the room is filled with damp, heavy air and the rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing. You slump down to rest your hands against your knees—it's been two hours of nonstop dance practice and going over certain routines—and to say you're tired is an incredible understatement.

You've not spent much time with Woori in the last few weeks, since right before and leading through your comeback promotions. Not alone, at least. All of MVNE are racking up a dense list of personal schedules, not to mention full group engagements, and personal time spent with the members dwindles throughout the days; right before your very eyes.

Before you've really noticed, it's all just sort of gone.

But Woori has asked you to be here with her today during some of the few hours that the both of you have managed to carve out simultaneously. She could be spending this time doing anything else; resting, relaxing, tending to the relationships outside of her career that, like everyone else's, have surely suffered.

Instead, she is here with you.

A loud sigh is exhaled from behind you, followed by the crinkling of a roughly-handled water bottle soon to be consumed. You glance back ever so slightly, but before you are fully able to turn a hand is extended with a bottle intended for you.

Accepting it, you stand fully, and for what feels like the first time since this excursion has begun, both of your attention is fully resting on the other.

"I need to ask you this, because it's my job," Woori says. There is little combativeness in her tone despite what the words themselves might suggest, and rather, the air of it all gives a sense of anticipation. Anticipation towards something else, perhaps something more akin to disappointment. "Realistically, I've accepted a long time ago that I am not your mother, nor do I want to take on that role in the group. Still…"

Your eyes remain fixed on her through a bout of momentary silence until she finally continues on to say, "You and Sunwoo."

Though your stomach drops, you do your best to mask it. Instead, your features twist into evident confusion. "What about us?"

"That's what I'm asking you. It's going to be easier for everyone going forward if I know about things that I can get ahead of."

You wonder if she knows. If somehow, word has traveled through the pipeline of onlookers living at an apartment complex where you definitely shouldn't have been. Being set up to lie is far from an ideal circumstance, and if Woori knows about your escapades either following Idol Radio or showing up to Sunwoo's shared accommodation, you'd prefer her to just come out with it.

The irony of desire for a truthfulness that you, yourself, are unwilling to give is not lost on you.

Taking a long sip of water, your eyes fall away from her in correlation with what you can only assume to be guilt.

"Nothing is going on," you lie. "If anything, I see Juyeon these days more often than I see him."

"Is that because he's busy, or something else?"

"Sunwoo is my friend, I shouldn't be demonized for wanting to see him. I understand that the circumstances are the way they are but there are other people inside of our very own group who are hoping to plant the seeds of express interest, yet all of the concern seems to be set on me."

Woori's eyes narrow in a kind of way that alludes to her not being aware of the thing that you are calling attention to. Good, you think, because deflection was precisely the plan.

"Put a pin in that other thing for a second," she says, exhaling a deeply perturbed sigh, "but you know the stakes are incredibly high in your situation specifically. Even just with his little stint on Idol Radio the reception was not all that positive, and that's just from him vaguely bringing the fact up. What do you think is going to happen if it were to ever come out as there being fire behind the smoke?"

"I know that. Nobody knows that better than I do."

"Lines have already been crossed," Woori warns, "I've seen it with my very own eyes, and who's to say what else I haven't seen?" She sighs again, allows a second of silence to pass between you and then says, "Miyoung said you weren't home the other night with the rest of them."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, you're going to tell me, and then we're going to drop the subject for now. I don't enjoy rehashing this any more than you do."

More water, because it buys you some time. You drink it down and think through your options as far as this line of questioning is concerned. You're not going to tell her—you can't tell her that you went to his dorm—but at this point you have also lost the ardent will to defend yourself to any believable length. If it is always going to be like this, if you are always going to be on the receiving end of doubt; then why bother making such an effort to be especially believable?

Until something definitive is seen, then nothing you or Sunwoo do really, actually matters.

"I went for a walk. We don't get out much these days."

Woori merely stares at you. Her expression is fairly unchanged, and though there is little present to work from, what you most certainly find hanging there is doubt.

She sucks her teeth loudly and as if never having heard your response at all she says, "And what's this about the other thing then?"

"Oh, Nara's sudden budding intrigue in Juyeon, you mean?" You huff out a disbelieving laugh under your breath. "Seems like you've got your work cut out for you, leader."

"That's… Unpleasant," is all she says for a good few moments after the fact, as if giving herself time to navigate through her own thoughts on the matter. "But I don't need to tell you it's not the same thing."

Already having made your way to your disheveled bag and gathering your belongings, you shrug.

"Yes, I believe we've been over that more than a handful of times."

"I'll deal with Nara, but at the end of the day I don't have control over what she decides to do," Woori reasons. "Just like I don't ultimately have control over what you decide to do, either. In a perfect world and if things were up to me, we'd be at least—oh, I don't know—two or three years into our careers before I have to deal with an absolute avalanche of dating scandals?"

You look back at her from over your shoulder, and though you don't immediately reply, the face you give is loud with seriously?

"Juyeon isn't interested," you say. "So, I don't think you have to worry too much about that."

Woori hums. "I'm not so sure this is putting my concerns to rest," she says, eyes narrow and distrusting after having been presented with new information. Perhaps, more information than you had ever intended on giving. "If anything, it may be introducing more."

"First you're upset about the possibility of a relationship forming, now you're upset that it won't be?" you question. "Some leaders can never be pleased, I suppose."

"My qualms definitely aren't with his alleged disinterest in her."

You stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading towards the door with Woori alongside. There's little more than a split second that goes by where the two of you meet eyes, and through that exchange alone, you already come to an understanding of everything she is concerned by.

Whether or not it's for good reason, remains yet to be seen.

"It's why," she says.

Enthralled with the conversation you are engaged with, you don't even notice the nearing doom that is soon to descend upon your table at the company cafe.

A plastic tray drops down with a loud thud, all three of you start as a result of it. You, Serri and Kaia all immediately look up with disgusted expressions to discover the culprit of your interrupted good time.

To say you're not expecting it would be an understatement.

"Hi."

Eric stands there beside your table with his arms limply by his side, but there is nothing casual about his face. Instead, there's a hint of a smile that you absolutely do not like the look of, and naturally; his attention has fallen fully to you.

Serri's eyes drift from him and back to you. She says, "Do you know him?"

"Sort of," you answer. "I mean, in a kind of colloquial sense." Still facing Eric, you then choose to address him going forward. "Can we help you?"

"No. Well, sort of. I want to talk to you."

Not ideal.

There are few things on the docket of potential discussion points that might ever lead Eric to needing to talk to you, and in fact, there's really only one. One topic that you do not need brought up in the company of other people, and you would even go as far as to say should make rather obvious reasoning for not approaching you in that very same company, at all.

But, here he is. Not exactly gentle in his delivery, either.

Looking back to both of the girls for a second, you look to him again and say, "Okay, but I'm with my members, so—"

And just as quickly, both Serri and Kaia are gathering their things and seemingly moving towards making their fastest possible exit from the scene.

"No thank you," Serri says. "Whatever this is, I can assure you I don't want any part of it."

Kaia smiles, bows to him, and with swift agreement says, "Great seeing you, she's all yours!"

Just like that, they're gone.

Eric wastes no time plopping himself down into one of the just emptied seats, and pressing himself nearly halfway across the table—that still lingering, shit-eating grin ever present—he says, "Sunwoo."

You blink through silence a few times. "What about him?"

"You tell me! I heard about your little stint not that long ago, word travels fast through the dorms as I'm sure you could have anticipated. Changmin was very amused."

"Happy to provide some… amusement, I guess." You try your best not to let your discomfort in relation to the topic show, but sit wholly unaware of how good of a job you are actually doing. "I wanted to visit my friend, he's been busy lately. I'm sure you've noticed."

Waving a dismissive hand in the air, Eric rolls his eyes. "Sure, sure. Whatever. Do you really think I'm going to believe that? He told me how he showed up to yours that one time and you nearly tossed him over the side of the balcony railing, now all of a sudden you're showing up and I'm just expected to believe it's no big deal? Just felt like popping in for a visit? No big deal?"

He's annoying, but he is quite adept at doing fairly simple math.

Still, Eric probably means well but you can't let him in. As of now, comeback preparations for his group have begun ramping up, and with the years they have under their belt it results in longer days and much busier schedules than anything MVNE could even really begin to fathom yet. From one day to the next it feels like Sunwoo went from being almost obnoxiously underfoot to hardly ever heard from. Shows, practice, recordings and filming. If not one thing, there is always another waiting just around the bend.

As a result, communication with him has slowed nearly to a halt. Now, it is you who waits in the wings for a reply to a message that may not ever actually come. Humiliatingly humbling.

You spend a good portion of your days trying not to care.

Unfortunately, a byproduct of this is not entirely knowing where it is that the two of you stand. Sunwoo had been clear in the past; forthcoming and honest with his heart on his sleeve like he often does, and though your circumstances together had seemed to be headed in an evident direction then, the lack of communication has you wondering if at some point, unrealized by you, the path had diverted.

Maybe he is simply too busy to embark on that journey, and maybe a looming comeback and highly successful career is serving as something of a reminder of that fact.

Eric is still watching you.

"I guess I'm testing the limits of what I can reasonably get away with," you say, and it's not a complete lie. "I'm beginning to catch onto the fact that I take all of this just a little bit more seriously than everyone else does."

Jolting back, as if physically hit by the words you have just spoken, Eric's face twists like he can't believe what he's hearing, like it's the most absurd thing he has ever heard.

"You can't really believe that, right? That nobody else is taking their career seriously because they don't refuse to live, eat and breathe this shit every second of every day?" He snorts out a laugh and then continues on to say, "Come on, everybody clocks out. Even us. Even you."

"How are you not terrified of the prospect of becoming another article online? How do you not let that dictate your whole entire life?"

"Because it's going to happen anyway, whether I want it to, or not. Like, I could stay locked up inside of this building for months and if somebody wakes up one day and decides they want there to be some news about me, then there's going to be."

You raise an eyebrow. "So, what? Might as well give them something worth talking about then?"

He rolls his eyes again, as if quickly growing tired of your unrelenting antics.

"No, man! But listen… Is it really worth it to forgo every single aspect of yourself and your life just for this? Like, don't get me wrong, this is great, but it's all going to go away one day." Finally, he sets his sights on a melon slice sitting on his plate and shoves it into his mouth. "Most of us aren't going to still be doing this at 35, or 40; and then what do you have to show for it all? It's like starting again from scratch. At the very least, maybe you could have met someone along the way."

"I don't think most inactive idols who are married met their spouse while they were idols," you reason, but to that, Eric gives you a look of resounding doubt.

"A lot of them very much did."

Leaning back against the chair, Eric shrugs all nonchalant, like none of this really means anything to him either way. You know this to be untrue, however, due to his being here in any capacity whatsoever. It clearly does, and that fact alone rings alarm bells in your head.

He knows, he's onto you. It just so happens he has the tact not to say it out loud.

"Look, all I'm saying is that it doesn't have to be like this, you don't need to be so uptight about it all. No one else is, and most of them manage to escape out of the other side relatively unscathed. Think of it this way…" Eric meanders on the thought like he isn't entirely sure he wants to broach it to begin with, though ultimately, his nature betrays his sense of self-preservation. With another melon slice in hand, he waggles it vaguely in your direction and says, "How long were you following us as a fan—closely, might I add—and you never suspected a thing, now did you?"

A prior conversation with Juyeon springs to mind in that moment, but even more than that is the curious sensation that trickles up beneath your skin. You do think it through before rattling the question off, but you understand yourself enough to know that there was no chance of either of you leaving this interaction without it being laid out on the table.

"Sunwoo was…?"

"Ah!" Another melon slice is popped into his mouth, though he looks far too pleased with himself about all of this for your liking. He smiles through chews and says, "There's always women. Well, not always. I don't mean it like that…"

"Very tasteful…"

"You know what I'm trying to say! This isn't news to you so don't act like it is now just because you're all jealous and weird with each other, because the other thing you've no doubt learned through years of Sunwoo-viewing is that the bad boy schtick falls flat pretty much immediately once he's pressed about it. He's kind of a loser, a little pathetic but he means well. We like that about him, but girls don't. It's kinda like when you think you're buying a truck online for a killer deal and then it arrives and it's just a picture of the truck and then it's like oh, I guess that's why it was ₩1,000."

The two of you stare at each other in silence for a while after that, but eventually, Eric cuts through that once again.

"Anyway, you get what I mean."

"Was there a point to all of this?"

"Yes, the point is that a lot of people are probably going to tell you not to do anything to jeopardize all of this and I am here to tell you that you should forget everything they've ever told you and to just be smart, stay vigilant, and live your life. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity—all of this—so don't wake up one day and realize all you have to show for ten years of it is some Inkigayo trophies. Ya know, if you can help it."

The thought that follows is far and beyond against your better judgment, but Eric is nothing if not persistent, as well as offering a hefty dash of what you might consider to be some much needed hopeful optimism.

Your head falls into your hands, and with your face cradled between palms so tightly that it pushes and reforms the skin, you say, "So what you're saying is that I should just… date Sunwoo. Or whatever. That's what you're saying."

Sinking closer towards you over the table—so close that the scene probably appears incredibly inappropriate to any potential onlookers—Eric's voice drops to just above a whisper and he says, "It's gotta be pretty obvious by now, right? Everything? I can promise you he isn't just handing out his personal information to any pretty girl at a fansign."

"He certainly acts like he would."

Evidently the meeting has come to a rather abrupt end, because Eric shoots up from his chair and takes the tray back into his hands as he begins his self-aggrandizing strut away.

"That's the fun of it!" he says. "Playing pretend, give the people what they want, but at the end of the day; there's really only one."

Later that evening you receive a message.

The sound of it comes unexpectedly, and you're already fairly tucked into bed for the night on account of the late hour and much to do in the following days.

Your phone screen glows from the table beside you, and though you look at it suspiciously and have half a mind to ignore it, you cannot will yourself to do so.

Picking it up, you look at the notification and by some miracle, are surprised by what awaits you.

It's Sunwoo, and there's a photo attached. Your memory springs back to the last time he sent you a picture, and while you hope it's nothing of the sort, you are pleased to be hearing from him at all.

Filming for his drama often runs late at night and though you've not been able to meet with him much, occasionally the groups pass one another in the halls and you can see the evidence of a demanding schedule taking hold. His shoulders droop more, under eyes darker and a little less pep to his step than what you're used to seeing.

Now, past one in the morning, he is messaging you.

Opening the app, the photo that awaits you is not anything you could have anticipated. It certainly isn't in line with the previous one in question; A beautiful, darkened landscape of trees with fairy lights draped through them, a cobblestone path with a light dusting of snow covering it, and a charming, brightly lit coffee truck with a couple of staff members lingering in wait.

The fact that he would see this and then think of you is not at all lost. Sunwoo has always been something of a romantic at heart, and though a lot of time has been lost since the last time it has felt like something may have been developing, it feels so incredibly him at his very basic core.

There is no text, only the image.

So, you begin typing back to him. A feat that is far from simple like the times it may have been before, and now you feel a sense of anxiety when drafting up what best to say. Talking to Sunwoo used to feel so easy when perhaps there was nothing on the line in doing so.

A few beginnings are drafted and then quickly deleted in favor of something better that you haven't yet thought of. You sigh aloud inside of your dark, empty room and make a pointed effort to center your thoughts so that you can do this. You wanted him to message you, can't leave him waiting forever for a reply now.

Eventually, you figure maybe less thought is better, because overthinking it will make the entire thing seem forced and contrived. Nothing is different now just because a handful of the minute circumstances between the two of you have changed; it's still just you and Sunwoo, the same people from before, the same friendship from before.

Sort of.

You [01:16]: pretty! they really are going for that romantic dramatization aren't they? super late night for you huh.

Almost as soon as you send the message, the indication that Sunwoo is typing once again flies up. He must have been waiting for your reply—never even locked his phone in anticipation of it—and that thought reignites something that you can undeniably recognize as dangerous inside of you: Wanting.

S [01:16]: filming wrapped already, wanted to see if you're awake. can i come over?

Your vision blurs reading over the words.

The girls are home but the dorm has been deathly quiet for quite some time now. Every light is off save for a handful of nightlights that decorate the halls. It's unusual even for you to be awake at this hour with how busy you have been.

With your breath unsteadying, you inhale deep and begin typing your response.

You [01:17]: everyone is home, it's late

S [01:17]: not what i askedddddd yes or no

The fact that he is asking at all is already an incredible feat of growth as far as Sunwoo-relations are concerned. It's unusual for him to think anything through, much less have the foresight to ask for permission on a decision rather than default to seeking forgiveness after the fact. For this reason, you know that he is absolutely up to something, you just don't know what it is yet.

But maybe you want to find out.

With a shaky exhale that does not have the strength to steady your nerves, you type out your reply, and it is nothing more than a simple yes.

And for as much as you think yourself to be someone who has a relatively thorough understanding of his inner-workings, nothing could have prepared you for the next reply to come to you.

S [01:18]: outside. open up

Eyes widening, terror strikes you in that very moment and you leap to your feet. If any of the girls—or anyone else for that matter—happens to see him outside of your dorm it's going to be the unearthing of a whole set of problems that you very much prefer to remain buried. He's insane, and perhaps is a bit less calculated than you had just been giving him credit for, but more than all of that; it is exhilarating.

You pull on some sweatpants that might be backwards and rush yourself towards the front door as quietly as you possibly can. Looking towards the doors of your members, they are closed, but that does little to calm your fears as you begin to spiral into self-doubt about whatever it is that you have seemingly agreed to. Sunwoo cannot be seen here, not again, and you can only imagine that Woori's patience is growing rather thin despite not even understanding a fraction of the catastrophe that looms overhead.

Hand on the door, you take a deep breath and then… you open it.

What greets you isn't an adoring smile or a small wave, but the feeling of another body crashing directly into yours. You stumble back a few steps and try to maintain the wherewithal to deal with the door you could easily leave behind, but Sunwoo is handling it; removing himself from you only long enough to shut it as quietly as humanly possible, without so much as a single sound.

What follows is another flurry of lips, hands and teeth as he presses you into the kitchen and against the furthest back counter, a nook wholly out of sight should anyone cast a glance out from a doorway. Sunwoo's hands cradle your face as he kisses you, but this time is not like the last. There is nothing chaste nor gentle about his intent to taste you, and there is no effort from you not to meet him halfway in the endeavor either.

Sunwoo motions for you to hoist yourself up, and seated atop the faux-marble his hands drop to sit against your thighs. There is no sign of slowing down, only a desperate sense of urgency and the unraveling of something that has been too tightly wound for far too long.

It feels good. Too good. Intoxicatingly free to just let go.

Your hands slip down to disappear under his hoodie, quick to locate the flesh that resides somewhere underneath. His muscles tense and shift at the feeling of the touch, sensitive but pleased to be on the receiving end of it all the same. Sunwoo kisses you harder, deeper; gasps into your mouth at the feeling of your hands on him and you drink it all down like there is nothing else left in the room to sustain you.

When his mouth eventually begins to trail elsewhere, you are finally able to hear the heavy beating of your heart ringing through your ears. Plush, soft lips find their intended mark lust below your ear, a devilish tongue that rakes over any spot where his teeth had just been, and your head falls back against the wall a little bit harder than it should, given the necessity of secrecy.

His palms slide up your thighs and settle at your waist, though there is no intention of them staying there given the way fingernails graze at your skin as he slowly curls his fingers into the waistband.

The implications of it all bring you to a crashing halt, and still clutching at the skin of his waist you whisper out, "Wait…"

Sunwoo's head pops up only enough to make eye contact, and the look on your face must say everything that he needs to know, because a salacious grin curls into his lips before once again tending to the work at hand.

His lips find the shell of your ear, breath ghosting over it in ways that electrify your entire body.

"You think I'm gonna fuck you in your kitchen the first time?" he whispers, voice raspy and laden with lust. "Come on, you know me better than that."

Not that you had been meaning to, but if there had been a reply in wait from you it would have been ripped away right along with the firm yank of that waistband from your hips.

Fabric pools on the ground below, and Sunwoo comes up to kiss you again. This time it's brief; lips slide down the column of your neck and you're so dizzy with the immediacy of it all that it isn't until you hear the accidental brush of his knee against a lower cupboard and fingers curling into the fabric still sitting between your legs that you really start to put together the pieces of what's about to happen here.

That knowledge is just as quickly followed by the firm, pointed swipe of his tongue against you.

The gasp that escapes you is too close for comfort as far as volume is concerned. You sling a hand over your mouth, eyes dropping down between your legs to find his, and even more unfortunately for your resolve; he seems to be incredibly amused by it all.

Sunwoo wants you to give in to this, and give in to it, you do. Your free hand settles into his hair and your fingers wrap loose, black curls around and between them as he happily tastes you for the second time tonight. It's sloppy work; little finesse and an unfortunate lack of visual aid to help guide him in the search of having you finally unravel for him. It's so dark, and the both of you have to be even more silent during an exploration that is meant to be anything but.

As much as the odds are stacked against him, it may not end up a failure of an endeavor regardless. This moment has been cultivating for too long between secret meetings and stolen kisses. You can feel the blooming warmth of a release that hopes to come to fruition, and for all of the things that Sunwoo isn't, he does appear to be adept at reading the signs. For everything that he lacks as a result of the situation that the two of you have landed yourselves in, he is nothing if not eager; and that eagerness is hurtling you towards something that you can't be sure you'll be able to stifle when the time comes.

He shifts his position just slightly, and with the additional space he slips a finger inside and curls.

Every muscle in your legs tightens almost painfully so, your eyes screw shut and you have no other option than to drop the hand from your mouth, clutch onto the countertop edge, and pray that this isn't how it's all going to have to come to an end.

The way that the beginning of his name stutters out of your mouth in nothing more than a labored hiss is nearly humiliating, and maybe that's just something that you're going to have to make peace with in the morning. For now, it doesn't matter; the only things carrying any importance being Sunwoo's warm tongue firm and fast at work to make you come for him, and the vision of his eyes staring up at you as you do while he remains knelt down on the kitchen floor.

Through clenched teeth, it all culminates in one long, shattering blow. When you finally do come it's hard fought and leaves you nearly breathless as it takes you; no concern of sounds echoing throughout the dorm as your body heaves a lengthy, silenced gasp.

Sunwoo takes an asserted care in slowing to a halt, though the aftershocks of sensitivity wrack your body with every feather-light glide of his tongue against your body.

When he brings himself back to a standing position, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and goes in to kiss you all over again.

"Don't make me wait so long next time, would you?" he says against your lips, "I've been waiting ages, it's been excruciating."

"You poor thing," you reply through exchanged kisses. "How ever did you survive?"

Sunwoo hums like something exceedingly sinful has come to mind in response. Eyes still blown out with lust and no such release for himself anticipated here.

"I'll give you a play-by-play of exactly how I survived another time." He kisses you again, this time fuller and with more intent and then says, "You prefer video, or video call?"

Your hands once again curve up to feel the skin of his body beneath his shirt, and Sunwoo just about melts into the touch that you offer. His eyes fall closed, lips lazily meeting yours for the affection that you're offering.

"This is going to be a thing now, isn't it?" you ask, knowing full well that the damage is already done.

"We tried it their way. I like our way better."

And unfortunately, you find that the same goes for you.

end of act 2! 🫣

#sunwoo smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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breakyourrxles · 4 months ago

Text

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟙𝟝

𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

↳ 'A picture is worth a thousand words,' as the age old adage goes, but you are soon to find out that the narrative spun around them can be worth so much more.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [8,7k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

The following days speed by in a blur; comeback practice, setlist practice, multiple meetings and pre-comeback appearances meant to create interest for what is soon to come commandeer the majority of your time, and it is only once you land in Germany that you realize just how little you have been able to afford for yourself.

There is a wash of relief there when the foreign air hits your skin and the unfamiliarity of a place you have never been before begins to sink in. Of course, MVNE have things they must do here beyond a handful of songs they are set to perform tonight, but photoshoots and social media are nothing compared to the demanding schedule that still awaits you back home.

You've still not spoken to Sunwoo in weeks.

He has been away for the majority of the time, and did not fly with the rest of you. Sunwoo, you find out through overhearing discussions amongst managers, will come in a few hours in the future. Straight to the stage for rehearsals, and then a meager wait following that until it is time to perform for those awaiting him.

One positive thing about it all is that Juyeon has kept his word.

Interactions with him are brief and professional, given the fact that you are in public and there are curious eyes all around. The fans like the two of you together in certain ways—as far as performance and aesthetic are concerned—but both of you know it best to not test the limits of where your friendliness might land you.

You steal glances as he stands near to you, careful not to draw attention to yourself. He is handsome and kind; forthcoming with his thoughts and feelings, incredibly intelligent and well-read on top of it all. For a moment you wonder to yourself, why not him, and then suppose that it really is as intangible and cosmic as what he had said to you only a week or so back.

Your heart just isn't in it. What else can be said for that?

Mid-day rolls around and rehearsals come and go. The sound leaves a lot to be desired with numerous hiccups and discussions following in tow. MVNE will perform four songs, which is plenty given the way your body feels weary on account of the travel and jet lag. A couple of the girls push for one more, but you stay silent in the conversations. Really, your mind is heavier than your body could ever be. Hours have passed, the rehearsal following yours is for The Boyz, and you know who is standing by backstage awaiting their time to shine.

Your feet hurt by the time your time slot is finished—numerous runs done over and over again until finally everyone has got it right. The girls all hurry backstage to enjoy the small amount of time they have until fans start shuffling into their places and the arena lights shine for you and so many others to be seen. At the very least, the green rooms are catered well and there is a whole plethora of food awaiting you.

Once down the stairs and behind the scenes of the glamour, bodies dart around and zoom past you, all with time-sensitive tasks of their own that must be attended to. Black blurs that you cannot make out the faces of before it is too late and they have disappeared off into the distance. People are shouting and static is buzzing from sound systems and communication devices. It's stressful making sure that everything happens precisely the way it is meant to; the air brimming with electricity that can be felt right down to your bones.

You look up and to your left, your eyes catch Kevin's briefly and your heart leaps up into your throat. The understanding that they had been waiting back here is something that logically, you had made peace with, but emotionally? Evidently less so.

Yet you can't look away.

Your attention spans down the line with momentum so fast that it makes your head spin. Chanhee and Haknyeon are standing just behind, though their eyes are set to the ground in anticipation of what's to come. Mimicking them, you also look to the floor, not wanting to accidentally trip on something that may be troublesomely in front of you. Then, your eyes snap back up and as if constructed by fate itself; you find Sunwoo.

He looks at you as if he can feel the fact that your gaze sits heavy on his form. It's so dark and so busy that you only have a second or two to truly get a look at him, but you don't require much to recognize that he has seen better days and wears the fact tiredly upon him.

Those eyes light up for what seems like the first time in a long time.

But you snap away from him and are quickly ushered down the hall towards elsewhere entirely. The girls all make their way inside of the green room, a few of them wasting no time looking over the bountiful display of snacks and drinks that have been waiting there for the taking. Rather than following suit, or sitting to rest your tired feet, you halt just past the doorway and remain lost in a split-second moment that has hardly even happened, at all.

The look on his face, and the obvious desperation seen behind eyes that have no hope of being able to convey the depth of whatever it they feel as though they need to.

"Hey," a familiar voice calls to you, enough to snap you back to the present. Woori nudges you with her shoulder from just beside you and lowers her voice a little bit more to avoid being overheard. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah, of course." What else are you meant to say beyond the thing that you know she wants to hear. "Just tired, jet lagged… You know how it goes."

"First time overseas for an event, it's not easy, I'll tell you that much," she agrees. "I don't know how groups do it, back and forth all the time, but I guess all we can hope for is that eventually, that'll be us, too." There's no response you have to give to her words with your mind still left back in the hallways. Woori notices it—perceptive as she is—and lowering her voice to a whisper she says, "Are you sure you're okay? You know… with everything going on?"

You grant her your attention, and though you have no doubt that your feelings lie fully displayed upon your features, you don't have the fight left in you to attempt to correct it, either.

"It's fine." That's the best you can do. "It's all going to be fine."

From just behind where the both of you stand, a knock raps at the door and shortly thereafter it swings open to reveal a couple of familiar faces that you were not at all anticipating seeing.

There stands Rimi, dressed in white and pastel pinks. Beside her is another girl that you know, though not as familiarly as Rimi, herself. Her name is Kokoro; never not seen with bleached blonde hair and a wild aesthetic of animal prints and vast accessories.

They both enter and immediately wrap you in affection, with strong hugs and kisses pecked to the sides and top of your head. Just what you need, right about now.

"How did you guys get back here?" you ask, still basking in the love that they're showing you. "Don't tell me you've started down the dark path of sneaking into places you know you're not supposed to be."

Rimi's hands set at her hips, a comical display of displeasure at your words and she says, "Please! We would never! But more than that, we don't need to!"

Kokoro raises a hand. "My family knows one of the directors of this production, so we have just about as much free reign of this place as you do."

"Shall we step outside to chat?" Rimi suggests, "We wouldn't want to bother the other girls during their resting time, only you."

Little does she know, their presence is precisely the sort of pick-me-up that you need. Following them out, Kokoro says something about a vending machine with a very particular cold coffee that she wants, and the three of you head down towards her intended prize. It is a less frequently traveled spot by talent and staff alike; no time for anyone to hang around and enjoy the luxury of a beverage in the hours leading up to the show. For the first time in a long time, you feel the tension dissipate from your form. Comforted by the quell of madness.

"We can speak comfortably around Kokoro," Rimi says suddenly, words that feel a little out of place and do more harm than good when it comes to the stress that you're hoping to leave behind. "She already knows everything that goes on everywhere, nothing you could tell her would be news to this one."

You look the girl over. Times spent together in the past have been little more than holding spots in line and journeys for soju and barbeque after an event. However, your trust held in Rimi is unwavering, and if she is willing to vouch, then you allow yourself to accept the fact.

"My family is very well connected," Kokoro says. "I wouldn't be able to escape it if I tried."

The smile you give her is slight and half-hearted, but you don't have it in you to offer much more beyond that.

"That said! How are you? How have things been? It hasn't been long since we last spoke but a lot has happened!" With wide eyes and a dramatic display of disbelief, Rimi shakes her head as she recounts the most obvious elephant in the room. "I mean, can you believe it? Just crazy the way all of that has played out."

Busy with her drink retrieval, Kokoro finally slips the container out from the slot and still bent down, she looks up at you and says, "It must have been a very strange conversation, huh? But I guess this is business. It's all politics, smoke and mirrors and all that, ya know? Like, we always know that's the case, and then you see it in action and it's like whoa, they'll go to any lengths to get what they want, isn't that right?"

Through the course of Kokoro's tirade, your eyebrows have flexed and pressed together on your face. It hasn't been a conscious effort on your part, and though you entered this discussion with a baseline understanding of what is about, the more she has spoken, the less you have come to understand it. Somewhere along the line, the words Kokoro has said have sounded less familiar to you, and more akin to information that you have not yet become privy to.

You understand what the three of you are talking about, but simultaneously, you have no idea what the three of you are talking about.

So, you have no choice but to inquire. Your eyes dart to Rimi—who is watching you expectantly—then back to Kokoro who is seemingly unaware and working towards enjoying her prize.

"Uh, what are we talking about?"

Rimi rolls her eyes and stamps her foot like a cartoon character. "Sunwoo! The pictures, and everything!"

"I know, I gathered that much, but…"

Silence follows. Eventually, any hint of comedic display falls from Rimi and a sense of sincere urgency takes hold instead. "Wait." Her shoulders drop all of their tension, slouching lifelessly to her sides. Cocking her head inquisitively she says, "Have you not… spoken to him?"

Your throat is dry and your eyes drop from hers, unable to maintain the contact as this topic persists.

"No, I don't think I have to explain why."

"Oh shit!"

It drops from Rimi's mouth before she has a chance to reel it back. Her hands fly over her mouth and Kokoro gasps in the aftermath of it, gently swatting at her as if to reprimand her for saying it. Reaching towards you, Rimi grips your arm tightly—almost enough to hurt—and with a kind of determination you've never seen from her before she says, "Babe, you need to talk to him, oh my god. It's not true!"

Your stomach drops before you have time to truly consider the weight of what you have just been told.

"Wha… I saw the pictures," you stammer, "We all saw them. We saw the articles, the company statement…"

After struggling for quite some time, the cap finally pops off of Kokoro's drink. She takes a sip and appears wholly unbothered by the weight of the conversation that is happening around her. A loud sigh follows her sip, like she's filming for a commercial and selling the part to perfection, and once she's finished Kokoro finds the time to attend to you.

"I mean, yeah, the photos are real in the sense that they exist and they were spotted out together." She takes another sip, enamoured by the flavor in ways that seem incredibly untimely given the gravity of what is happening to you. "It's the story around them that's not. I thought for sure you would have known this, figured this was already water under the bridge. They must be keeping a real tight leash on him then."

You close your eyes, shake your head in disbelief and just say: "Pause."

A moment is needed for you to think through the unimaginable amount of thoughts swirling around in your head. You take in a slow but deep breath, holding it inside of your lungs until you can't stand to keep it there for any longer. Your nerves settle slightly, enough to move forward with all of this without completely shutting down, bursting into tears, and ruining the incredible amount of stage make-up that is crafted upon your face.

"Can you just… Start from the beginning."

"I'll keep watch!" Rimi announces, craning her body so that she can look down the hall.

"Okay, so." Kokoro revels in another sip of her coffee drink before continuing on. "My dad works with a lot of very high-profile people, so I hear about all of the nasty business in the industry. Entertainment companies, news, politics… all of it," she says. "He's currently assigned a job working very closely with the news source that posted those photos and the article along with it, and you know, these people love to talk. They love gossip. They can't sit on a secret without it killing them. Love the attention."

Growing impatient, you say, "Can we just…"

"Right! Anyway, he was there when the story broke, and I guess it was a big deal when it happened, the office was going crazy about it! So, they went out for some drinks after work and got to talking, and apparently everyone working on the project spilled! There was a lot of correspondence with your company back and forth, and apparently it wasn't just some random paparazzi that snapped the photos and sent them in… It was your company, themselves."

The more she says, the more your heart sinks down to your gut.

"So, they get these pictures of him out with this photographer. The outing is nothing special, nothing happens. It's just a casual thing amongst colleagues but you know, you can snap a single photo of a moment and spin it to seem like anything with the right kind of story attached. Which is precisely what they did. That company paid a lot of money for this all to get out, by the way. Orchestrated the whole thing. And I can't prove this—it's just something my dad overheard in passing another day—but it seems like they did it to manufacture tension in-house." Kokoro stops, gives you a knowing look and then says, "Don't have to be the smartest person in the room to know exactly what that means."

Voice trembling, you say: "They know about us."

"Yup, and are going about breaking it up in the nastiest way they know how," Kokoro confirms. "I mean, if you think about it from their perspective, there's no other way. No-dating rules have been a thing in the industry for decades but it doesn't stop anyone from doing it anyway. If you sniff out some funny business under your roof, the only real way to ensure that it stops is to craft up a way for those people to not want anything to do with each other the natural way—good ol' emotional manipulation style."

You feel sick. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, eyes stinging with the pain of tears you're desperate to fight back. Everything hurts, straight down to your bones; body limp with the discovery that you have never been as attuned to the intricate and downright wicked willingness these people have to get whatever it is that they want.

"You're sure?" you ask. Realistically, you already know the answer to the question, but something inside of you needs to hear the confirmation one more time.

Kokoro nods. "Yeah, without a doubt. I'm really surprised he hasn't reached out about it, but my guess is that they're watching him like a hawk. He probably doesn't have free access to his phone if he hasn't."

No wonder Sunwoo never reached out once the story broke. The sickness writhes inside of you just that much more in relation to everything that has transpired since then; your feelings, your actions, things that can never be undone or taken back.

All just to find out that Sunwoo hasn't done anything, at all. Instead, he is the person with the target on his back; the first shot sent from his very own company, and the second—unbeknownst to him—fired from you.

"Someone's coming!" Rimi whisper-shouts.

Kokoro nods to her and the conversation comes to a close, but before you will allow it to do so, you grasp the sleeve of her coat into your hand and say, "Thank you, but… I need to talk to him. How do I talk to him?"

Her eyes widen. "You're asking me?" Thinking it over for a few seconds, her head bobbles in a considering sort of way as if mulling over any potential options and she says, "Are you close to anyone else in there? Someone else you trust? I can't talk to Sunwoo himself, the degrees of separation aren't far enough, but I might be able to pass a message along and start orchestrating something."

Juyeon would be willing, you know that fact well. You trust him and have seen firsthand how capable he is through missions of stealth. However, involving him in this feels too close to home—as well as other things—and so, you opt into your next best and considerably more messy option.

"Eric."

Squinting suspiciously, as if to say that you have missed the importance of this being a covert sort of going on, Kokoro relents to it and just says, "Well, alright. Eric it is, then. I'll try to talk to him and figure something out, Rimi and I will message you when we have something but it's probably for the best if we're not seen together again after this. Not until we're back in Seoul, at least."

How deep does the rabbit hole go, you wonder.

Rimi [18:47]: great news~♡ kokoro talked to eric about that client her dad works with who wants to work with him in the future and it looks like he's super open to it! we wanted to talk to him about it more later after the show, but he said something about just being way too busy with the gym tonight (¬_¬") men can be so annoying, but that's how it is! see you in seoul again soon~!

Covered in sweat, it is the first thing you see on your phone upon arriving back inside of the green room. Your heart skips, breath holding inside of your lungs out of fear that should you dare breathe, the possibility of this may disappear with it.

This is code. Obviously enough to you with the knowledge you have but not so much so that anyone who happens to see it could understand the hidden meaning behind the words.

Unexpectedly, a hand finds your back and you jump at the fright.

Kaia swings around to settle in your line of vision with a big smile on her face and a make-up wipe in hand, always the fastest to rid herself of the excessiveness of it all.

"Great job out there tonight, you were electric," she says, "We're all going to go out for dinner and some drinks, enjoy the city a bit while we're here, tell me you'll come along with us!"

You want to say no, but there is no good excuse for not doing so. The Boyz trail behind you in their performance and are set to go on shortly, and rushing back to the hotel only ensures that you sit waiting until a later point in time where you are finally able to begin perusing the hauls for the place it is that you will seek. Truthfully, the only reason you wish to bow out is a selfish desire to be alone with your own thoughts and worries; what will happen, what has happened, and what might be waiting for you in the not so distant future.

"Of course I'll come," you say, putting all of your ample weariness on the shelf for the time being. A formidable task. "You were great, too. We all were."

Miyoung is passing by as you say it, catches ear of what you've said, and flashes you a smile as she continues on her way.

For MVNE, things couldn't be better. Little do they know how close you are to bringing it all toppling down.

You don't know Eric's manager, nor how intense he is about his line of work. All you know is that this had seemingly been his plan, and if he had set it into motion, then it must be fairly smooth going from here.

The room you have is shared with Serri and you're quite thankful for that. A perfect night for her is staying in, watching television and scrolling through her phone with little interest for much else to entertain her. She is quiet and kind, but wholly uninterested in being the life of the party—especially after a long day of travel, rehearsals, and performances.

When you say you're leaving to see what the accommodations have to offer, she barely even hums to acknowledge your words.

Circumstances are such now that you can't take any chances with anyone you may run into, and so, you are dressed accordingly. The typical wear of an idol engaged in sneaky business and you make it a point to keep your head low, not bothering to ask the front desk where the location of the gym even is. You trust you can find it on your own—these places have maps everywhere—and once you make it to the lobby, your instinct to trust your gut is instantly rewarded.

Basement level, just one more level down and just beside the pool.

You don't know what time you're meant to be here, and you don't ask Rimi for any further clarification, either. Correspondence with Eric is certainly out—not that you have a way of getting ahold of him, anyway—so all that you can hope is that their business is wrapped up and you haven't kept him waiting so long that he has already retired back to bed. It's late, most people are no longer making their way through the halls… All you can do is hope.

Down here it's musty and the scent of lingering wetness clings to the carpet that you're walking on. You pass a door for staff, and then the very next one is precisely what you are searching for.

With a racing heart that threatens to leap from your chest, you slowly push the door open.

And seated on a bench right in plain sight, is Eric.

"Your friends told me they have an exciting opportunity waiting for me, how nice of you to send them my way."

While a part of you wants to clear the distance and jam a fist into his arm, the stronger part nearly wants to break down and cry.

"Youngjae…"

His eyes go wide. "Whoa, government name. You're really in the trenches, huh?"

Fighting the floor of emotions that threaten to take hold, you bring your palms to your face and drag them downwards woefully as you make your way towards him. Eric pats the empty portion of the bench just beside him and you take your seat with a despondent plop.

"I need to talk to Sunwoo."

"You're kinda dumb, you know that? I can't believe you saw all that and really thought that what you were seeing is what you were really getting. I mean, seriously? Another woman?"

"You're not helping."

Eric reels a bit, rolls his eyes like he accepts that his badgering is not particularly wanted and says, "I'm just saying, you know that guy is crazy about you. I mean, I didn't have the proof and he hadn't told me it wasn't true yet but like… I kind of knew someone was playing games, and it wasn't him."

"You can hang me up in the city square for torture another time, but right now I need to talk to him. He doesn't have his phone?"

"Nope, at least, not without someone eyeing him while he's using it. It's kind of a nightmare, if I'm being honest. Can't send as many dick jokes as I'd typically like." You look over at him with a glare, and once again Eric realizes that his additional anecdotes are falling on deaf ears. "Alright, look… It's late enough by now that I don't think he's being hounded. We got food and some drinks after the show and then a few of us headed back in, him included. I told him I was going to come over so we could see if the theory is true that Ridiculousness is literally always showing on TV in hotels, no matter where you are or what time it is. He seemed to like that idea."

"I cannot believe you guys are actually idols," you say, "No wonder everyone likes girl groups now, instead."

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

His hand grips your wrist and just as swiftly, you are dragged to your feet and back towards the door.

When the elevator announces your arrival, your breath fully catches in your throat. Once again, you hold it for fear that none of this is real, that with one faulty move karma will deem your being here something that should not happen.

The silver doors slide open and Eric pops his head out.

"Nothing, it's clear. Pretty sure everyone is asleep already, managers included."

"Even for him?" you ask.

Looking back at you he says, "Yeah, they're tyrants but they're not on him twenty-four-seven, nobody gets paid enough to do that. Let's go."

Eric wanders down the hallway with the sort of nonchalant ease of a guy with absolutely nothing to lose. It must be nice, you think to yourself, walking with your body nearly curling inside of itself as if to disappear should the slightest of glances fall upon you.

"What if someone else is inside?" you ask then, nervousness making itself evident through your questioning.

He briefly glances back at you again. "Again, not paid enough."

"You guys don't room together?"

"Not anymore, perks of being in the game for a while." Eric pauses for a second and then says, "Wait, you two were friends for a while before all of this, don't you know that already?"

"I never went to his room, are you insane?"

Playfully offended, Eric tosses his hands into the air and says, "Okay, sorry. Forgot meeting at restaurants was a much safer option, as has thoroughly been demonstrated to us."

His jovialness is hardly appreciated.

The two of you turn a corner and after only a few more steps, you stop in front of a door. Neither of you move, and after a couple of long, unnecessarily drawn out moments Eric looks at you and says, "Okay. We're here. Knock."

"Is it weird that I'm scared?"

He rolls his eyes, a seemingly common reaction from him in regards to you now. "Oh my god." His fist pounds on the door—far more loudly than you think is really necessary given that this whole operation is meant not to draw attention—and then before the door even begins to draw open, Eric begins his journey back the way you came.

"You're not waiting!?" It's something in between a necessary whisper and a displeased yell, and all he gives you in reply to it is a big grin and a shrug.

Time draws on so slowly that you easily lose track of how much goes by with you perched up outside of the room. How many seconds has it been? A minute, perhaps? You don't know. Beneath your skin, your veins feel like fire in anticipation of what's to come. Maybe he's asleep, maybe Eric was wrong and the person that is soon to greet you is the angry face of a manager that somehow knew that all of this was taking place. A heavy exhale leaves you and it's shaky with uncertainty. You shouldn't be here, you can still leave… and yet, you can't. No matter what.

There's a click from behind the door and your heart nearly stops. It begins to pry open slowly, and though you aren't quite able to make out what lies beyond, the thing that does come to you is the gentle waft of warm steam and the noise beyond that grows louder as it widens.

An arm slips out, hand grasping your sweatshirt by the sleeve and forcefully dragging you inside.

What awaits you hidden away in those walls is a flurry of lips, teeth and hands.

Neither of you say a word and Sunwoo's mouth finds yours in a flash. His hands are warm and wet; hastily slipping beneath your sweater and tearing it upwards to rid you of the bothersome thing. With a pounding heart and chest that feels suffocatingly tight, you completely let go and relent to what he intends to give you; it's been far too long, you put up enough of a fight, and as far as you are concerned… This is the other side of a battle well-fought.

Beside you, the bathroom door is left ajar—a shower still running hot inside of it. The taste of beer still lingers faintly on Sunwoo's tongue as you revisit a place you have been so many times before. His skin is damp, warm; and droplets of water hopelessly cling to long, black clumps of curls that dangle in front of his eyes.

But more than anything else, he is relentless in his pursuit.

Sunwoo's fingers dig at the button of your jeans and though you make the effort to aid him in the task, it is already completed by the time your hands find their way there. His movements are hurried and clumsy; needy and rushed that aren't entirely unlike him but nothing that you have quite seen before. Teeth nip at your bottom lip and your body melts into the feeling of his hands smoothing over the skin of your sides. When your head falls back, he takes it as the perfect opportunity to drag his lips down the expanse of your throat; kissing, nipping… Maybe even marking.

You should care. You should find the strength to take the reins of this and bring it back to a place that isn't so desperate with careless need.

But you don't.

Dragging you into the bathroom, Sunwoo's mouth barely leaves your skin even for a second. Fingers disappear beneath the top of your jeans and they are quickly shimmied from your legs, discarded and quickly forgotten. Right along with all other intimates you had been hiding underneath.

Once you are finally disrobed, the towel tied at Sunwoo's hips is the next to fall away. His hands come back up to cradle your face, the urgency behind his actions slows to nearly a halt, and he kisses you again unlike any of the times before.

It isn't want that hangs shackled behind this motion, but something far more delicate and sensitive to the touch. This is adoration, it's regret, it's something raw and exposed and meant only for you, and you, alone.

It feels like love.

Sunwoo presses you to step backwards, and so you follow suit. The water is hot and jarring to your skin as it cascades down upon you. Never letting go, the persistence once again finds its way within his motions and once chaste kisses are replaced with tongue and teeth and a need to feel you in all of the ways he has been so desperate for before.

Your palms press into the flesh of his chest and the mere amount of muscle that rests underneath. Sunwoo is overwhelming in his insistence on all things, and being a lover is no different. The air is heavy around you with moisture in a way that makes it difficult to breathe, inebriated by the combination of both it and his desire to have you.

As your touch wanders, so does his. You slip down towards his waist and settle at his hips, now starkly aware of the fact that neither of you have a single garment covering your forms. All of your shared intimacy up until this point has been quick and to the point with little time afforded to revel in the joy of exploring one another's bodies. All of this is new to you, entirely uncharted waters await.

You feel his fingertips light and gentle as they slip down the front of your body and towards the space between your legs. Sunwoo's touch is shockingly delicate given the way his lips slot against your own. The feeling of his hands on your skin, his body pressing harder, firmer against your own dizzies you nearly out of the ability to think clearly. You've wanted this for so long; tried to fight it and lied to everyone—including yourself—in an attempt to win the war waging between you.

Sliding a hand up his back, you bury fingers deep within his hair. Sunwoo groans into your open mouth as a result of the touch and the sound of him like this—the look of him with lustful, half-lidded eyes and lips plump from abuse—sends a wanting chill down your spine that all but has you melting into putty in his hands.

When he goes in to connect your lips once more, you keep the hold of his head in your hands firm, disallowing him from doing so. The thought has lingered in the darkest recesses of your mind ever since his touch fell upon you; a dutiful thing that—while ugly and untimely—simply cannot be ignored.

"I…" you begin to say, and even just that much is sputtered out in a directionless way, with no clear path to follow. Sunwoo looks at you tentatively and with unwavering interest. All that you can hope for is that what you have to say will not shutter it away—rightfully, and for good.

"I…" you start again, forcing the rest of the confession out past the painful dryness in your throat. "I slept with Juyeon." Tears begin to form but you refuse to let them come. Crying on account of your own actions feels manipulative even if the intent to be so is not truly there. Your lip trembles as you continue with the words. "After the article, the pictures… I—"

Sunwoo's face twists into a mixture of things as he looks at you: confusion, disbelief, but most of all… indifference. "I don't fucking care," he says, firm and resolute. His hands clasp your face all over again and he kisses you hard, pulls back, and then reiterates it again: "I don't fucking care about that."

Your back finds the smooth tile of the shower wall shortly thereafter, and Sunwoo's hand falls down once more to fit between your legs. The gasp that slips away from your lips is immediately taken in by his own through fervent kisses and the ever so slight but pleased grin that twists at his mouth. Knees that feel gelatinous threaten to no longer be able to hold your weight, the arousal pooling where he touches you leaving your senses feeling stifled past anything but him. You can no longer hear the sounds of the water beating down or smell the faint hint of floral shampoo that once seemed so strong in the air; only slightly panting breaths just beside your ear and alcohol that has long since been consumed.

Sunwoo's fingers are long and slender, inching down and then slowly inside in an effort to have you melting around them. Tension drops from your shoulders as he does, your head falling back against the wall and his lips quick to taste the exposed skin there. That all-too-knowing curl follows—heel of his palm firm against the dull throb that begs for attention—this place has been visited between the two of you so many times before, and Sunwoo's expertise in the matters of having you come undone this way are fully on display.

His free hand finds your thigh and the feeling of his fingernails gently gripping into the flesh there as your body craning off the wall and harder up against his, but the pleading groan that drips from him afterwards is the final straw of your quickly dwindling sense of composure.

In your mind, the way you say his name sounds stronger than the actuality of it; broken, pathetic, and little more than a whimper.

"God, I want…"

Sunwoo doesn't finish the thought but you already know precisely what he means by it. This is quickly spiraling out of control should either of you hope to walk away from this with good decisions having been made. There is no push for more being made save for the idle desperation felt from his fingertips raking at your thigh. He wants more—knows neither of you have walked into this situation amply prepared for that—and worst of all, so do you.

And throwing all caution to the wind; a victim of being drunk with history, regret, and arousal, you find his warm, wet lips all over again to kiss him with silent, unspoken confidence and intent.

"I don't care," you whisper against them.

The reaction that follows is nothing short of a culmination of things, none of which are ill-suited for the situation at hand. Sunwoo's head falls back, eyes rolling as if some part of him had been holding out hope for the fact that you might be better than him—better than this. You're not, neither is he; and though it may be poor decision making at its finest, when his gaze drops down to find yours again, there is a sort of sinister hunger now sitting behind his eyes.

You know Sunwoo well enough to know he wouldn't dare to broach the subject on his own, but your willingness to put it on the table for yourself is simply too much for him to be able to deny.

The grip becomes strong, creating space for his hips between your legs as the hand once there moves to himself. His chest presses against your own, lips ghosting across yours as you feel the careful first push inside.

"Can't tell you no," he says softly, breath escaping him through the words as he sinks deeper into your body. "I've been dying to give you anything you want."

Feeling him bury into you, the closeness of your bodies, and the heat of your surroundings has you dizzy with need. Your hands slide up the hot, wet skin of his back with nails fast to dig in and find purchase against the muscles just below. They flex and move beneath your touch, tense with strength to hold you open for him and shifting with every slow, concentrated drive of himself into you. The friction of each drag blurring your vision, oxygen thick and hard to take into your lungs through the steam that continues to form.

Once frenzied kisses fall to the wayside in favor of open mouth panting and a repeated chorus of whines, groans and moans. Sunwoo watches your expressions intently for any hint of how to take you further as he settles into a more demanding, conscious pace. "Feel good?" he asks, voice low and labored, intonation matching with every press of his hips against yours.

The answer is written all over your face, given away with every sound that falls away from you and every deep drag of your nails against his back. He'll likely walk away from this encounter with rows of evidence to show for the fact, and you can only hope that there's nothing in his immediate future that might cause that being known.

Even just thinking about it has his name escaping you in a desperate plea for more of him.

"Keep doing that and I'm gonna come," Sunwoo says, a hedonistic growl laced through his tone. "But I need to feel you fall apart on me first." His lips drag across the flesh of your jaw, teeth lightly sinking in as he continues fucking you through the way his words make you tighten around him. "Then I'll have you moaning my name as much as you want."

Your muscles tense, the need for release teetering on the edge of unbearable to the point that your body aches from the tension. Nails dig deeper into him, so much so that he winces at the feeling but never once relents, and taking matters into his own hands, Sunwoo presses you harder against the wall in anticipation for how unrelenting his drives become. Faster, longer, fuller strokes that have you coming undone at a breakneck pace. Any control of your volume immediately falls to the wayside and is amplified by the bathroom echo—so just as quickly, Sunwoo fits his palm snugly across your mouth.

His eyes fixate on yours, completely in tune to the feeling and movement of your body as he works to bring you over the edge. Eyes blown out with lust and need and a sort of carnal desire to have and acquire something that he has, to some degree, always believed to be his.

"Come on," he urges, "Come for me, your body's begging for it."

Once loud moans dissipate into a silent cry through your release. It shakes you, rattles your body almost painfully as it rips through you. Any concept of your surroundings completely melts away for those few, slow seconds following the intensity that wrecks your body. Sunwoo never stops, never slows as he continues to fuck you through it without so much as a falter; and the gasps you find do cuminate into a breathless, pathetic chant of his name just as he so desired.

But he can't continue through it much longer, in the haze of your immediate aftermath you can feel the shake to his strength, the tremble of his breaths as his own end rushes to find him. The once easy rhythm to his hard drives into you are quickly dissembling; his head drops, forearm pressed to the wall beside your head like the additional assistance to his stance is needed.

Watching him unravel like this is delectable in ways you never could have possibly anticipated.

"Gonna come," he whines, "I'll pull—"

"Don't."

Your insistence for otherwise has his hips stuttering, head dropping down to just beside yours as he growls through the logical resistance of it. Hands once firms against his back slide down to his hips, guiding him forward and urging him to do precisely as you have instructed.

"Fuck." The exasperation sounds punched out of his chest, aching and craving for exactly what you've offered him. His head snaps back up, the hand against the wall then curling around to lightly grip into your hair as hungry lips once again find your own. All teeth and tongue and groans into your mouth as his drives once again find the speed and depth they had before. "Want me to come inside you?" he says, words filthy and coated with venom on his tongue. "Want me to take you, want me to really make you mine?"

And the airy yes that escapes from you is just as sinful.

Confirmation is all he needs, the simple word echoing against the shower walls as Sunwoo buries himself hard and deep inside of you. Laborious pants draft over your mouth, his chest rising and falling in quick succession with every aching throb of release that shakes him. He pulls from you only just a bit before pressing forward fully again, and an anguished whimper dies in his throat for the last time.

Basking in the immediate aftermath, there is only silence now. Your chests rise and fall with the hope of finally finding the calmness of breath that you seek, and slowly breaking apart your bodies, Sunwoo hisses at the feeling of loss and then suspiciously squints at you.

"Oh, you're a freak, huh?"

You deadpan.

"Says the guy with a fire-hot possessive streak."

"Very normal kink to have, I'll have you know." He inches his face closer to yours again, lingers in the space just between your mouths and then quickly pecks a kiss there. "Sure worked for you."

Gently shoving him backwards and into the stream of water, you roll your eyes and relent to the most obvious thing of all. "I guess I should have known that the mouthiest guy I know would be no different… In other aspects."

"Yes, you should have," Sunwoo agrees, and annoyingly so. "And as much-needed as this was and a great reunification gift… I guess we've got a whole lot more talking that we need to do."

The sound of his voice in the latter half of the realization is so far from the strength and confidence displayed only moments before. Sunwoo's eyes fall away from yours like he doesn't have the courage to face you, nor the choices you have made. Juyeon had insisted that this day would come, and though you had eventually relented to accepting that fact, suppose you had expected there to be just a bit more time spanning in between. Time for it to feel further in the past, time for it to feel less like a wound still trying to scab.

You offer a small and forced smile then say, "Lets get cleaned up, I want to enjoy this for a little while longer."

Sunwoo crawls into bed beside you last, tending to the last minute prep of your final moments together like this. You are unable to spend the night here and are expected to be found in your room by the time a manager makes his way to retrieve you in the morning. You'll be tired, the wear of the long evening will certainly show on your face… But it was worth it, without a doubt in your mind.

The television flickers on and a program that you neither recognize nor understand flashes onto the screen just as the light to the room is harshly shut off. It smells faintly of him; clothing, cosmetics, fragrances scattered about as far as the eye can see with little care for the place that they happen to land. Comforting and familiar within the coffin of a secret you no longer hold.

Slipping in beside you, Sunwoo's head falls daintily to the side as he offers you a tight-lipped smile. His arm falls over the front of you—laid out on your back and spending the majority of your time staring towards the ceiling.

Tip-toeing back through the memory of how it is that the two of you arrived here.

"So," he says, and his voice is so quiet that you almost don't even hear him. "Tell me."

But there's no strength behind those words, and that sinks into your chest with a weight far heavier than anything you could have anticipated. Sunwoo wants to know because he feels like he needs to; not through jealousy or even anger, but because of the very same reason that Juyeon knew to be true.

"I was angry." Staring up at the darkness of the ceiling, from here it looks as though it can carry on forever. A part of you wishes that you could disappear into it, leaving all of this behind, but the tender curl of Sunwoo's fingertips into the flesh of your stomach remind you to be present and that being here just might be worth it, after all.

"I had actually just gotten back from meeting with my friend, one of the girls that met with Eric backstage. We talked about you. Talked about us." You pause, remembering that day. Inhaling deeply, you continue on. "I got home and the girls showed me. I mean, what else was I meant to think?"

Turning your head, your eyes find his. Light from the TV flashes across them in an almost mesmerizing way. Easy to get lost in, easy to forget that all of this has been, and will continue to be, so hard.

"So, I was hurt, and I was angry, because I thought how can he be saying all of this to me while doing this behind my back? It's not as though we've never talked about you and other women, so I figured if there would ever be someone else, you'd at least respect me enough to say as much. It just felt like a knife to the back, after everything."

"You wanted payback," Sunwoo reasons.

"Yeah, and what better way to cash in, I guess."

"Fucking my friend?" The words are jarring when you hear them despite the light and comical way that he delivers it. Sunwoo rolls his eyes, sighs, and says, "Sure, that'll do it."

"Are you mad?"

"No." Inching closer, Sunwoo's lips ghost just beside your ear to say, "I came inside you." But as if the consideration has only just found him, he reels back suddenly, startled and says, "Wait, did he…?"

You shove him with nearly enough strength to have him falling out of the bed completely.

"No! Are you insane?"

The giggle that follows is annoying and presumptuous in its intent, but true, nonetheless. Sunwoo crawls his way back to snugly fit his body against yours and says, "See, you like me. What's there to be mad about? All jokes aside though, the whole situation is shit and obviously I know how it looks, so I can't really blame you for acting out. I mean, sure, I kinda wish you didn't fuck Tall, Scary and Handsome because that's a whole lot to try and compete with, but Juyeon's nice. He's a good guy. He probably had a whole lot to say about it, too."

Your eyes shut slowly at the recollection. "Yeah, he certainly does… Think about things."

"I take solace in the fact that you had to suffer for it in some way."

In silence, the two of you lay together for many long moments. Sunwoo's finger traces shapes over the expanse of your skin idly, lost in thought much like yourself, if you had to guess as much. Your mind has been heavy since long before your arrival here and the subsequent actions taken thereafter; but now that they have occurred, your thoughts have muddled and congealed past the point of being recognizable to you.

Turning your head to look at him again, you find the courage to say the thing that maybe—for a long time now—you've really wanted to say.

It isn't permanent, just speaking it aloud, but it certainly does feel that way.

"I don't think I want to be an idol anymore."

Sunwoo's hand slowly comes to a stop.

a/n: fun fact but this shower scene was The Scene that this whole entire thing spawned from, and now we're finally here. escape by tbz the perfect listening vibes for it 😋

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