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goldenhemmings · 6 years

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Stealing Second | Baseball!Shawn (Part Three)

Hello again, friends! Thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to read this series or send feedback, your kind and encouraging messages are so so appreciated!! I took some inspiration from this little Kate Upton/Justin Verlander moment (aka one of my favorite MLB couples) for a scene in this part and thought I may as well include the gif to match. I also proofread this while watching a hockey game, so please forgive any mistakes/typos! Previous parts can be found in my masterlist.

Don’t have a pre-read study guide for this one, because I think everything is fairly basic. But, of course, if you have any questions you are more than welcome to ask me!! Without further ado, here’s 8.3k of more Baseball!Shawn. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts, because conflict is coming in part four...

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you were hot. Burning up, actually, a likely combination of the sunlight streaming in through the window and the fact that your back was flush up against Shawn’s chest, which you had quickly learned was naturally quite warm. You groaned and ran a hand down your face, immediately tossing your white duvet cover off of you and sighing with relief when the air conditioning hit your bare skin. You flew up in search of the blue jersey Shawn had given you, smirking while you shrugged it over your shoulders and buttoned it up as the memory of last night came back to you.

You padded into your ensuite bathroom and sighed when you caught sight of your reflection--more specifically, the various purplish marks covering the expanse of your neck; you were almost afraid to see the additional damage that your jersey was surely hiding. You silently prayed your concealer would be strong enough to cover the marks as you raked your fingers through the ends of your hair in a desperate attempt to tame it, running a tired hand over your forehead when you decided that your current appearance was as good as it was going to get.

You started towards the kitchen to make some coffee, but as you approached your bedroom doorway you heard from behind you a raspy “Where are you going?”

You paused and turned around to where Shawn was still folded under the covers. You’d thought he was asleep, but upon second glance you saw his eyes were half opened and trained on you, a lazy smile crossing his mouth. “Was gonna make coffee,” you explained, unable to keep the corners of your lips from pulling up at the sight of a sleepy Shawn nestled into your bed.

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, rolling onto his back and folding his arms behind his head to prop himself up.

“Why?” you giggled, already beginning to gravitate back towards him.

“Because,” he hummed, a small grin still adorning his features.

You sighed and crawled back into bed, Shawn immediately pulling you to him so that you were chest to chest, his arms wrapped lazily around your back. He hummed in satisfaction, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.

“What?” Shawn groaned, his voice still thick with sleepiness as his fingers trailed up and down the fabric of the jersey you had on.

“Nothing, I just--this is a side of you I’ve yet to see”

“What side is that?”

“Clingy and whiny,” you teased, and his eyes went wide as he feigned offense.

“I am not being whiny!” he defended, and you erupted into a fit of giggles.

“Then what would you call this?”

“Content,” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

“And why’s that, rookie?”

A cheeky smile crossed his face and his eyes narrowed. “‘Cause I ran all the bases last night.”

“Oh, God. I was waiting for that innuendo,” you laughed, burying your face into your pillow to hide your flustered expression.

“Was it really that predictable?”

“Would it hurt your feelings if I said yes?”

“You’re so full of shit,” he grinned, rolling over to lay on top of you and laughing as you wriggled under his weight.

“Shawn. Shawn!” you squealed, attempting to push him off while he just laid there and laughed. Trying to overpower his sheer muscle mass was like pushing on a wall and hoping it would dent, but you kept going anyways...until you got a different idea.

“Shawn, wait, I can’t breathe,” you pleaded, trying to get your giggles under control. Shawn rolled off of you immediately, concern evident in his wide honey-colored eyes. Before he could ask if you were okay, you scrambled out of the bed and turned to face him with the most smug expression you could manage. “Gotcha,” you smirked, and as soon as you saw Shawn make a move to get up as well you shrieked and went flying down the hallway towards the kitchen.

He came dashing out after you, clad in nothing but his black athletic shorts from the night before. He caught up to you more quickly than you’d anticipated, and you squealed as you felt his arms come around you from behind and lift you off the ground. You clung on for dear life as he spun you in circles, both of you giggling uncontrollably.

He finally set you down, smiling as he panted to regain his breath. “I’m not sure Coach Montoyo would be very happy with you wearing yourself out on game day,” you smirked, breathing heavily as you walked into the kitchen to finally make your cup of coffee. You noticed some of the dishes from the night before still out on the counter, sighing at the thought of having to scrub them clean. You had meant to take care of them last night, but obviously had other things on your mind.

“Game’s not ‘til seven,” Shawn shrugged with a crooked smile, leaning against the counter and watching you start to set up your Keurig. “And I won’t tell if you won’t.” You chuckled, reaching into the fridge to get your coffee creamer.

“Speaking of game day,” he continued, and you looked up from making your drink to see him running a hand through his hair, his eyes focused on the floor. Intrigued, you set down your mug and crossed your arms over your chest as you turned to face him, waiting for him to keep going. “We only have home games today and tomorrow, and then we’re on the road for, like, nine days.”

Your face fell, and you were sure your disappointment was evident to him. You knew the team’s schedule back and forth, of course, but you were so caught up in the excitement of being in Toronto and being with Shawn that you’d forgotten to consider the bane of every baseball player’s relationship counterpart: away games. The idea of being involved with an athlete had always been dripping with glamour in your mind; watching him shine on the field and earn the love and fanaticism of thousands of spectators, knowing that you were the one who knew him beyond the stadium lights and grandeur. But you’d forgotten that during the season a good chunk of your time would be spent apart from one another, which seemed draining and stressful. Aside from your quickly-intensifying feelings for him, Shawn was easily the person who you’d spent most of your time with since arriving in Toronto; you weren’t sure what you’d do for nine days without him.

You took a breath, correcting your facial features so that they were no longer downcast. “Guess we’ll have to make the most of the next two days, then,” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee.

Shawn’s head suddenly snapped up, his eyes brighter than they’d been all morning. “Would you want to go to the game today? See it from the stadium for once instead of from TV?”

You looked away, setting your coffee mug down on the counter. “I’d want to, yeah, but I can’t really afford tickets right now. I’ll just watch it from here.” It was almost embarrassing, admitting that you were tight on money, but you didn’t want to hide it or make up an excuse. It was the truth, and it’s what you told him.

But Shawn scoffed and took a step towards you. “You really think I’d make you buy tickets when I could get my hands on some for free? All I have to do is talk to the VP of Sales and he’ll hook me up with a couple of seats anywhere in the stadium, even right behind home plate.”

“Shawn, you don’t have to--”

“Stop,” he laughed, cutting you off. “I want to. You can bring Cassidy, and you and I can meet up when the game’s over.”

You exhaled and looked back up to meet Shawn’s expectant eyes. “Are you sure?”

“It’s no trouble for me. And it’ll be easy for us to see each other again tonight because we’ll both be at the same place.”

“We live in the same apartment complex,” you giggled. “We’d be at the same place anyways.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, obviously trying to hide a smile. “I think we can agree that the stadium is more exciting than our apartments.”

You grinned. “I’ll give you that.” You swiveled to grab your coffee off the counter behind you, but as you did so you noticed the time displayed on your microwave: 12:04. “Damn,” you muttered, grabbing Shawn’s attention.

“Hmm?”

“It’s past noon,” you answered, turning to face him. “We really slept in.”

“Would’ve been longer if you hadn’t wound me up by calling me whiny.”

“You’re literally whining right now,” you laughed, and Shawn rolled his eyes. “But you should probably go prepare for the game. Eat something, shower, rest, all that stuff.”

He sighed. “You’re probably right. I have to be at the stadium at 4.”

“That’s so early,” you exclaimed, raising your eyebrows. Shawn just shrugged. “Why don’t you go get your clothes and I’ll make you some coffee for the road?”

“You mean for the elevator?” he smirked, earning a playful swat on the arm from you.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, pressing your hands against his bare shoulders to push him in the direction of your bedroom.

“Woah, if you wanted to get me back in your room all you had to do was ask,” he snickered.

“Oh my God,” you groaned as he laughed his way down the hallway, but you were smiling even though he couldn’t see.

You brewed another coffee, pouring it into one a paper coffee cup and pressing the lid on just as Shawn came back out with his shirt and shoes back on. You held the cup out for him, and he took it and planted a kiss on your cheek all in one smooth motion.

“I’ll text you about the tickets,” he said as you felt a burn in your cheeks. “After the game I just have to shower and change, and then I’ll meet you at my Jeep in the team parking lot.”

“I don’t think I can get in there,” you said. “Isn’t it blocked off to the general public?”

“Yeah, but you’re not the general public,” Shawn smiled. “There’ll be a security guard standing by the door that the players and coaches go through to get to the lot. Just show him your work I.D. so he sees that you’re with the team, and he’ll let you through.”

“Okay,” you smiled, Shawn making his way to the door. “Good luck tonight.”

“I’ll see you after the game, honey,” he said, then shut the door behind him. Your stomach still flipped every time he used that pet name.

You grabbed your half-empty coffee mug off the counter and trudged into your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed and reaching for your cell phone from the nightstand. You dialed Cassidy’s number, lifting the phone to your ear to wait for an answer. It rang three times before she picked up with a casual “Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I have two tickets to the game tonight, would you want to come with me?”

Her demeanor changed entirely as though you’d flipped a switch. “Of course! Is that even a question?”

You giggled at her enthusiasm, glad to be finding a friend in someone from work. “Okay, sweet. I’ll text you the details and we can meet in front of the offices and then walk over to the stadium together.”

“Yay!” she cheered, eliciting another laugh from you. “See you tonight.”

“Thanks, Cass. See you tonight,” you echoed, hanging up and placing your phone back on the nightstand.

You let out a breath as you flopped back onto the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, and it seemed that you’d had no time to process or relax. You were suddenly blatantly aware of how much your heart was racing, a likely combination of the coffee and anticipation of the night to come.

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Come 6:15 that evening, you were standing in front of the doors to the stadium offices and checking your appearance via your reflection in the glass. You’d opted for the white jersey Shawn had given you even though it was almost laughable how big it was on you, and you’d left it unbuttoned to pair with your typical jersey-day attire of a tank top and jeans. Your trusty concealer had come in handy, your neck showing no traces of the attack it had endured less than twenty-four hours ago.

You pulled up the tickets on your phone while you waited for Cassidy, Shawn following through with his promise to text you the link to them. They were row one of section 126, which you knew was on the third base side but you weren’t sure exactly where. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a Blue Jays game from the actual stadium, so the seats could have been in the very last row of the very top section for all you cared; you’d still have been just as excited.

“Y/N!” you heard, and you whipped your head around to see Cassidy bounding towards you, clad in a blue jersey and her short dark hair blowing behind her in the breeze.

“Hi, Cass,” you grinned as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

She pulled away, her eyes falling on your attire and making a little lump rise in your throat. “Where did you get your jersey?” she queried with wide eyes, reaching out to feel the material between her fingertips. “This is one of the most authentic-looking ones I’ve ever seen.”

You shrugged, fumbling to come up with an answer when something else (thankfully) grabbed her attention. “Oh, also!” she exclaimed, beginning to walk towards the stadium as you fell into stride next to her. “Where are the seats you have? So we know which gate entrance of the stadium to use.”

“They’re section 126.”

Cassidy looked at you in bemusement, a small furrow in her brow. “Yeah, Y/N, I’m sure,” she laughed. “Where are they actually?”

“I...I’m not kidding,” you replied, reaching for your phone to show Cassidy the tickets. “It says right here, section 126.”

She looked at your phone in disbelief. “How did you score these seats?” she cried, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Uh, just a friend of mine,” you stuttered, still unsure as to their exact location in the stadium and therefore not knowing why Cassidy seemed so shocked.

“Some friend,” she scoffed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “If they can get tickets right behind the Blue Jays dugout, I want to be friends with them, too.”

“Behind the where?” you asked a little too loudly for it to be natural, convinced you’d heard her wrong. What did Shawn do?

“126 is directly behind Toronto’s dugout,” she explained, her eyes still aglow. “You can basically hear the conversations the players are having, and it’s a great view of the field. What row are they?”

“Um,” you gulped. “One.”

Cassidy’s face immediately lit up with so much enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but laugh along with her. “Oh my God!” she cried, grabbing onto your arm and doing a little jump. “I’ve never had seats that close!”

You giggled, steering her towards the entrance on the third base side of the stadium. After going through the lengthy line for security you were officially inside Rogers Centre, and you followed the signs until you came to section 126.

When you and Cassidy got to your seats, your excitement was immediately equal to the level hers had been. The dugout was literally directly in front of you--you could rest your feet on the top of it if you wanted to. Your view of the game would be top-notch, and as the visiting San Diego Padres were warming up on the field you couldn’t contain your eagerness for the game to finally start.

“Oh, by the way,” Cassidy started, drawing your attention away from the field. “I meant to ask you earlier, but why didn’t you show up to watch the game yesterday?”

The unpleasant memory of overhearing the things your fellow interns were saying about you came pouring back into your mind. “Um...something came up,” you replied bleakly, avoiding eye contact. It was not a moment you wanted to relive.

“Hey,” she said softly, placing her hand on your arm. You looked up to see concern etched across her features. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you ever get shit for working in sports?” you blurted, the words out of your mouth before you realized you were saying them. “Like, from other guys in the office?”

She sighed knowingly. “Are the other interns giving you a hard time?”

“I--” you hesitated, unsure as to whether or not you wanted to get into this with Cassidy. You trusted her, yes, but it was still embarrassing to talk about the fact that these guys thought less of you even though you were their equal. Speaking about it made it feel fresh, and it was something you wanted to push as far away as possible. But, ultimately, you decided to tell her. She was the closest thing to a friend you had in the office, and talking to someone who might actually understand could be nice. “Yeah,” you finally said, looking up to meet her eyes. “I overheard some of them talking about me as I was headed back up to the clubhouse for the game yesterday. I heard them call me a jersey chaser--among a bunch of other nasty things--and it really got under my skin so I just went straight home. I wasn’t really in the mood to watch the game anymore.”

“Holy shit,” Cassidy muttered, running a hand through her hair. “You don’t deserve any of that, and I hope you know that you have every right to be working for this team. Sometimes we just have to work a little bit harder than guys do to prove ourselves in this industry, but that’s the way shit goes sometimes,” she laughed, and as she continued talking her words make you feel progressively more reassured. It made you feel better to know that there was someone else who could relate to the treatment you were getting; that you weren’t alone in what you were experiencing. “I didn’t know half of what you know about the game or the industry when I first started out. You deserve to be here just as much as those assholes do.”

You smiled, feeling the heaviness leave you. It didn’t matter what the other interns thought of you; you didn’t work for them, and you didn’t owe them anything. You adored everyone in your PR office, and that little work community within which you existed was the only thing that mattered. “Thanks, Cass,” you said wholeheartedly. “Didn’t mean to get all dramatic there.”

“If you think you’re dramatic, you obviously haven’t spent enough time with me,” she giggled, and you laughed with her. You finally felt refreshed, you were happy, and you were ready for the game to start.

The crowd was beginning to get louder as time drew closer to seven o’clock, and the excitement in the stadium was contagious. You and Cassidy were bouncing and giggling like little kids as you saw the players begin to fill the dugouts as the ceremonial first pitch was being set up. You could see into the front of the Blue Jays’ dugout, having a line of sight to any player that was up on the railing by the field. Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw the top of Shawn’s head appear, laughing with the right fielder, Randal Grichuk.

You froze when Shawn leaned back against the raining and turned to face the stadium seats. You could see his amber eyes scanning the crowd from underneath the brim of his hat, and when his eyes met yours he grinned and gave a little wave. You smiled and waved back, growing confused when Shawn held up his pointer finger as if to say one second. You looked over at Cassidy as Shawn disappeared deeper into the dugout, her head bent over her phone to check the batting order for the game; in other words, she was oblivious. Everyone around you, however, not so much.

You could feel the stares from the people on all sides of you, and you’d have thought your minor exchange with Shawn had been broadcast on the jumbotron with the way your cheeks were burning under the heat of the eyes of strangers. Not judging, necessarily, just...curious.

Your heart rate picked up again when you saw Shawn reappear in the part of the dugout you could see into, him shooting you another perfect grin. You smiled back shyly, not waving this time in an effort to keep a lower profile. Your attempts, however, went out the window when Shawn reached up and rolled a baseball across the top of the dugout right in your direction. You reached out to grab it out of instinct, and now you knew you’d attracted the eyes of almost everyone that had a sightline of the third base dugout--including Cassidy, who was surprisingly still silent. You took a breath and picked up the baseball, laughing despite yourself when you saw that Shawn had written a message in Sharpie between its red seams.

Are you a baseball? ‘Cause you’re a catch.

You rolled your eyes and reached into your purse, deciding to play along with Shawn. You were already wearing one of his actual jerseys, after all; people had surely caught on by now, and you figured the damage was already done. You grabbed a black pen and found a spot on the ball next to what Shawn had written, smirking as you added your own words.

That made zero sense.

You capped your pen and rolled the ball back over the top of the dugout towards him, and he grabbed it immediately. He raised his eyebrows playfully and his eyes, twinkling with amusement, lifted to meet yours. He disappeared back under the dugout and returned with a Sharpie in hand, leaning back against the railing and adding yet another message.

Like the seats? Picked them myself. The ball came tumbling back towards you.

The view’s nice, you added teasingly, sending it back to him. He received it, his shoulders giving a little shake with his laughter. He’d now drawn the inquisitive attention of some of his teammates, who you could see were watching him from the front of the dugout. Shawn added one more thing, rolling the ball back towards you and blowing you a kiss before disappearing under the dugout.

See you after the game, honey.

You smiled to yourself and tucked the ball into your purse, but not before Cassidy hissed a high-pitched “What the hell was that?”

You sighed, initially trying to come up with the right words to make the situation seem trivial. But, if you were honest with yourself, you’d sort of been dying to tell someone about you and Shawn. Realistically, you probably would have told Cassidy sooner had you not been put off by her apparent obsession with him, but now there was no getting out of it.

You spoke at a low volume so that the people around you--who were surely listening in--couldn’t hear. “Please don’t freak out, but I’ve kind of been seeing Shawn Mendes since I moved here.”

“Kind of?” she shrieked, earning a vehement shush from you. You couldn’t tell if she was excited or mortified.

“No, I--” you sighed. “I am seeing him. I met him the day I moved into my new apartment because he lives in my building, and it sort of just...happened.”

She leaned down, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She let out a little laugh before resurfacing to face you. “That explains so much. These seats, your jersey, why you get all frozen anytime anybody in the clubhouse talks about Shawn.”

“No I don’t!” you defended, quirking your eyebrows.

“Anytime someone says his name it’s like you’ve seen a ghost,” she replied. “I figured you just had a stupid little celebrity crush on him like I do--oh, did, sorry.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, Cass. I just honestly can’t tell if you’re angry or happy about this.”

“I’m only angry you didn’t tell me sooner!” she cried in exhilaration, and you felt a huge breath of air leave your lungs. “And the game is starting, so I’m gonna put a temporary pin in this. But the second this inning is over, I’ve got about a million more questions to ask you.”

You laughed, turning your attention to the field as the first Padres batter stepped up to the plate and the fans in the stadium began to cheer even louder. “Ask away.”

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The game ended with the entire stadium on its feet, whooping and hollering as the Blue Jays’ pitcher threw a third strike for the final out of the game. This secured a win for Toronto: 6-2 over the Padres. The Blue Jays had been explosive offensively, making for a largely exciting game for you and Cassidy to watch. Shawn specifically had been stellar, with three solid hits and zero errors in the field. You swelled with pride watching him play, knowing how special it was for someone as young Shawn to already possess such immense talent.

On your way to the game you’d been making up excuses as to why you wouldn’t be leaving the stadium with Cassidy after the game, but now that she knew the truth you were relieved to be able to admit that you weren’t going home because you were meeting up with Shawn. She gave you a bone-crushing hug in parting before setting out for her car, thanking you for inviting her to the game and making you promise to update her on the rest of your night.

You stayed in your seat until most of the fans had cleared the stadium, your legs bouncing up and down in your anxious state. You forced yourself to sit still and wait, as Shawn still needed time to change and you didn’t want to fight off the rush of the crowd trying to leave the stadium all at once. After a good twenty minutes you finally decided to head for the team parking lot, your anticipation growing with every step you took.

As you arrived where Shawn had directed you to go, you sighed with relief when you noticed the security guard he’d described. You must be in the right place. He was a big man likely in his late fifties, wearing black slacks and a bright yellow shirt that said (shockingly) ‘security.’ You fished your Blue Jays I.D. out of your purse so that you could get into the parking lot, flashing it to the guard with a smile. You were surprised when his eyes seemed to light up in recognition of your I.D.

“So you’re Y/N,” the man said, eliciting an amused expression from you at the fact that he seemed to know who you were. “Gotta say, I had the feeling when I saw you walking over here. I’m Jake, I’ve heard a lot about you.” The man extended his hand, and you shook it with a curious expression on your face.

“Y/N,” you answered. “But I guess you already knew that?”

“Shawn’s not one to keep his mouth shut around me,” Jake chuckled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. That’s how he knew who you were. “Been doing this job for four years and he was the first player to give me more than a head nod on his way out to the lot. He stopped to talk to me after the first game of the season, and I was so shocked one of the players finally acknowledged me I could’ve cried. He’s stopped to chat after every home game since, and I’m not sure he knows how much it means to me. He’s a real good kid.”

“Yeah,” you said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and making no attempt to hide the grin that was as big as your heart felt. “Yeah, he is.”

“But,” Jake continued, a playful look in his eyes. “If that kid ever starts putting you through hell, you just let me know and I’ll rough him up for you.”

You giggled. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue, but if it is I’ll know who to call.”

Jake smiled, then reached for the door to open it for you. “Have a good night, Miss Y/N.”

“You too, Jake. Thank you.”

You made your way through the door and into the parking lot with a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before your conversation with Jake. Shawn was not only sweet with you, but he was clearly sweet to everyone he’d ever met or spoken to. He was beyond skilled as a player, and it’d be easy for him to let the buzz get to his head to the point where he was cold and arrogant; but Shawn was different from other players. He relished in his love of the game, and he had not allowed his morals or his character to be compromised along the road to the Major Leagues. He was humble and kind, and with each passing second your feelings for him seemed to spread.

You spotted Shawn leaning against his black Jeep, damp hair hanging over his forehead as he stood with two other people, their backs to you and therefore preventing you from seeing who they were. You caught Shawn’s eye when you got a little closer, and he waved you over to join the little circle. When they saw Shawn divert his attention, the two other people turned to face you and your heart immediately dropped; he was standing with Kevin Pillar. You tried to keep your cool as you approached the Blue Jays’ star center fielder, but you knew your eyes had blown comically wide.

“Y/N, this is Kevin,” Shawn said as you approached, Kevin sticking his hand out for you to shake.

“I-I’m a huge fan,” you stammered, your grip on his hand a little too strong. “I’ve been watching you play for years.”

He laughed. “Shawn told me you’d say that.” Your eyes shot to Shawn’s like laser beams, silently conveying your embarrassment. “And this,” Kevin continued, gesturing to the gorgeous blonde woman at his side, “is my wife Amanda.”

“Hi,” she smiled, reaching to shake your hand. Her teeth were bleached white and you could tell that her eyes were bright blue even under the dim lighting of the parking lot lights. She was stunning--completely befitting of the role of an MLB player’s wife.

Once the introductions were done you finally turned to Shawn, moving next to him as he inconspicuously wrapped an arm around your waist. The four of you stood and chatted for a solid amount of time, and you very quickly relaxed around Kevin. You also decided that Amanda seemed like a lot of fun, especially with the way that she was constantly joking with her husband. She and Kevin were a good fit, and you couldn’t help but smile at the obvious chemistry between them.

Kevin and Amanda finally voiced that they were going to head home, exchanging goodbyes with you before they walked away to Kevin’s car. Once they were out of earshot, you immediately turned back to Shawn. “You didn’t prepare me for that!” you cried with widened eyes. He just laughed, and much to your dismay you felt the corners of your mouth pulling up.

“Shawn!” you whined, trying to fight your smile. “That was Kevin fucking Pillar, and I went complete fangirl on him.”

“For, like, thirty seconds!” he laughed, and by now you were fully grinning as well. “Then you calmed down.”

“Whatever,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “In other news, you played one hell of a game tonight. And Jake the security guard seemed to know who I was.” A flush rose to Shawn’s cheeks as you smirked at him knowingly.

“Yeah, I, uh...Jake knows a lot about my life,” he smiled sheepishly, and you giggled.

“He really appreciates that you talk to him,” you said. “And he thinks very highly of you. Can’t say I blame him.”

Shawn averted his eyes to the ground, suddenly shy. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, kicking your toes into the ground. “It’s kind of astonishing how good you are, and not just as a player.” You kept talking, eager to get some of your feelings out of your mind and into the air. “So many pro athletes let the attention get to their heads, but you just...don’t. Has Jake told you that you’re the only player in all four years of him working here that’s ever spoken actual words to him?”

Shawn’s head lifted up, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Did he tell you that?”

“He said he almost cried when you stopped to talk to him after the first game of the season because no coach or player had ever acknowledged him like that before. And you didn’t even know that, yet you’ve continued to talk to him every game since.”

Shawn was blushing profusely by this point, the sweetest smile crossing his mouth. His eyes were focused on the ground in timidity, and you couldn’t do anything except stand there and admire him. Not only the way he looked, but the way his mind worked. He was so much more complex than you’d realized when you first met him, and it was almost painful how attached you were becoming to seemingly every part of him.

“Whatcha thinking?” you finally spoke, desperate to break Shawn’s silence.

“Thinking about whether or not I should ask if you wanna go down on the field,” he said abruptly, his gaze coming back to yours.

You eyes opened all the way, your jaw dropping ever-so-slightly. “What? A-Are you serious?”

“One hundred percent,” he grinned, holding up his keys to dangle in front of you. “All the players have a key that unlocks almost every door in the stadium, including the ones that lead to the field.”

“Are you serious?” you repeated, because it was the only thing you could think to say. Your mind was desperately trying to process the excitement (and rarity) of what Shawn was offering.

“Yes, honey,” he laughed, the spark in his eye visible even through the barely-there lighting in the players’ parking lot.

“Like, right now?”

“Mhm,” Shawn hummed, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you back towards the door you’d come out from. “Everyone should be gone by now, so we’ll have the whole stadium to ourselves.”

What a thought that was: having the entirety of Rogers Centre at your disposal. “Will you take me into the dugouts? And the bullpen? And can we--”

“I will show you every single inch of the stadium if that’s what you want,” Shawn laughed as he cut you off. “Yes to all of the above.”

“You’re the fucking best,” you blurted, the widest smile plastered on your face. “Though that seems to be what everyone’s been saying about you these days.” Shawn smiled shyly and looked down at his feet, unspeaking.

“Oh, come on!” you continued, giving his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to be so humble all the time, Shawn. You batted 3 for 4 today, including a two-run home run in the bottom of the sixth, and you were flawless in the field. You safely stole second base at the beginning of the game, which put you in scoring position and allowed you to come home when Pillar--Kevin, sorry--singled to right field. You absolutely knocked it out of the park today, pun intended.”

“Who needs ESPN game recaps when you exist?” he teased, but you were suddenly serious.

“I know I’m gushing, but I just want to make sure you know that everyone is really proud of how you’ve been playing.”

He leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your head, silently thanking you. Satisfied, you walked with him through all of the hidden hallways of the stadium to get to the locker room, a consistent smile on your lips. Once inside the locker room, he reached behind the door to flick the lights on, illuminating each player’s uniform for the next day hung neatly in individual cubbies, their bats, mitts, helmets, and other equipment carefully stacked on the shelves below their jerseys.

“Wow,” you said involuntarily, taking in the sight. “You guys have quite the setup.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” Shawn assented, pulling you towards a small closet off to the side labelled Equipment. He opened the door, revealing pile after pile of exactly what the door said would be behind it. Extra ball caps, batting gloves, bats, and anything else a baseball player could possibly need littered the room, and Shawn ventured inside in search of specific items. You quirked your head in curiosity, but decided not to ask what he was doing in favor of letting it be a surprise.

He first retrieved a Blue Jays hat, reaching back to place it on your head. You giggled as you adjusted its fit, finishing in time to accept the wooden bat he handed you next. “This is kinda heavy,” you remarked, and Shawn laughed.

“It’s the lightest one in here.” He emerged with three baseballs clutched against his chest, and he shut the door and jogged over to his little cubby to retrieve his own glove.

“Okay,” he said, coming back over to you. “Ready to take the field?”

You grinned like a little kid, nodding your head feverishly as he lead the way out of the locker room and into the dugout, climbing the steps to get up to field level. You looked around in awe as you finally stepped onto the dirt, the hand that wasn’t holding the bat clasped over your mouth as you tried to contain your off-the-charts excitement. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Most people haven’t,” Shawn laughed, following you over to the pitcher’s mound. You perched yourself on the rubber, your toes hanging off the white strip. You stared right at home plate before doing a full spin and taking in every bit of the stadium that you could: tens of thousands of empty blue seats, the giant scoreboard in center field, the Canadian and American flags both on display on either side of the jumbotron. Being at the stadium itself had always been magical, and it was still everything you’d thought it was when you were a kid. But standing on the field was an entirely different feeling altogether, and you couldn’t choose just one word to describe it. Surreal? Overwhelming? Dreamlike? You settled for an amalgamate of all of the above.

“Here,” Shawn said, gesturing towards the bat in your hand. “Go step into the batter’s box.”

You glanced up at him with quirked eyebrows. “I thought you would be doing the hitting.”

“What fun would that be for you? You watch me hit all the time. C’mon, go stand at the plate and I’ll pitch to you.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Mendes,” you teased, clutching the bat and making your way to the batter’s box.

Shawn stood about halfway inbetween the pitcher’s mound and where you were, a ball in his right hand and his glove covering his left. “Ready?” he asked.

You lifted the bat over your shoulder. It was a little heavy, but you managed. “Ready.”

Shawn softly threw the ball towards you, but it was high and way too far away for you to possibly get your bat on it. “Nice pitch,” you joked, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “You should probably stick to second base.”

“Aren’t you just so funny,” he razzed, and you giggled.

“C’mon Mendes, give me something I can actually hit.”

He shook his head playfully before sending another ball your way, which you actually managed to get your bat on. Shawn’s head whipped around to see the baseball you’d knocked land right at the edge of the grass behind second base, and you let a smug smile cross your face. “Woah,” he grinned, turning back to face you. “Impressive.”

“I don’t just watch sports,” you smirked. “Played them all the time when I was younger. I was pretty good.”

“Yeah?” he mused, his eyebrows raised and a toothy grin on his face.

“Oh yeah,” you giggled. “I bet I could easily throw a football with a tighter spiral than you.”

He laughed. “I’d say that’s fair considering I’ve never thrown a football in my life.”

“Never?” you cried, your face lit up with amusement.

“I play baseball, not football!”

“Excuses,” you teased. Suddenly getting a new idea, you dropped your bat next to home plate and headed over to where the second basemen typically stood. You smiled when you saw Shawn follow you, and he went to his position as if he could read your mind. You inched your way towards him and wrapped your hand around his arm, leaning your head on the side of his right shoulder.

“Your view’s nice over here,” you remarked as you looked towards home plate, and Shawn huffed out a soft laugh. “I’m sure it’s even better when the seats are filled and the fans are all cheering.”

Shawn turned to look at you, a closed-mouth smile that touched his eyes gracing his features. “Nah,” he simply said, and you looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

“What?”

“I like the view right now just fine,” he answered, never tearing his eyes from yours. His smile was unfaltering and his eyes gleamed under the lights of the stadium, and as your heart started to beat faster all you could do was mutter something about how cheesy he was and turn to bury your head in his shoulder, your arms finding their way around his waist as his quickly wrapped around your upper back.

As you stood there, unmoving and unspeaking as Shawn held you with his chin resting on the top of your head, you felt tears prick your eyes. You were standing on the field of your dreams with the guy of your dreams, and you had the job of your dreams in the city of your dreams. If someone had told you a month ago that your life would have worked itself out like this, that the stress and the work and the debt would have been worth it, you’d have told them no way. But this was your reality now, and the mere truth in that fact had brought you to tears. Good things really did come to those to wait.

You were suddenly shocked out of the moment when, slowly but surely, all of the stadium lights began to turn off. Before you could ask what was happening, Shawn let out a quiet, “Damnit.”

“Why are the lights going off?” you asked, looking at his face that was now dim in the decreasing light.

“They go off every night at midnight,” he sighed, letting out an exasperated laugh as he ran his hands through his hair. “I lost track of time, I didn’t realize it was already so late.” He grabbed your hand, beginning to pull you back towards the dugout.

“Shawn, wait,” you cried, sporting a grin he likely couldn’t see.

“It’s pitch black, it’s gonna take us forever to find our way out of here.”

“Shawn,” you pressed, and he finally stopped. “First of all, our phones have flashlights,” you giggled, “And secondly, the roof is still open.” His silence indicated that he didn’t understand what you were getting at, so you kept going. “Just--here. Come here.”

Shawn’s hand still in yours, you led him off the dirt of the infield and onto the grass in the outfield, laying down on your back and pulling him down with you. By now, your eyes had adjusted to the new darkness and you were able to make out Shawn’s silhouette, but not his facial expression.

You looked straight up, able to see the stars splitting the black sky into a million tiny pieces, backlit from the lights of downtown Toronto. Your left hand was still firmly wrapped in Shawn’s, and your right was absentmindedly weaving through the grass of the outfield next to you as your eyes remained fixated on the night sky. You knew in the back of your mind that this was undeniably cheesy and cliche, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You had tonight and tomorrow with Shawn before you lost him for nine days, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of the time you had before he left for the away series. The two of you laid by each other in silence until he cleared his throat, prompting you to turn your head towards him.

“I, uh, I know tomorrow--well, I guess technically today--is Sunday, so you don’t have to be at the stadium, but if you wanted to come, y’know, to see the game again, you’re more than welcome to watch it from the suite with Amanda and all the other players’ wives and, um, girlfriends. I think they’d love to have you.”

“Girlfriends?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows.

“Y-yeah,” Shawn whispered. You could hear the waver in his voice, and you giggled and rolled over so that you were nestled into his side.

“That’s quite a step up from when we decided we were dating.”

He shrugged, letting out a heavy breath. “I think we’re a step up from when we decided we were dating.”

“Touche, boyfriend.”

“See?” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t you like the sound of that?”

You laughed in agreement, and then went silent for a while until you became aware of the absurdity of the moment. “At least we’ll have a good story when people ask us about all this.”

“What do you mean?” Shawn asked, turning his head towards you.

You sighed, thankful for the darkness concealing your expression. “When--if--people ask us about how we, you know, happened, we get to tell them it was past midnight and we were laying in the outfield of Rogers Centre, which you snuck us into,” you giggled. “Not to mention the fact that all of the lights in the stadium shut off and we could barely see our hands in front of our faces.”

“Except it’s not sneaking in if I have a key,” Shawn said with a smirk in his tone, and you laughed.

“You don’t think Coach Montoyo would consider this sneaking in?”

“Not sure,” Shawn mused. “But I don’t exactly intend on telling him about it, so I guess we’ll never know.”

“Whatever, Mendes,” you grinned, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder.

“‘M gonna fall asleep if we lay here much longer,” Shawn said after a while, and as if on cue, you found yourself trying to suppress a yawn.

“The game’s not ‘til seven tomorrow, right?” you asked, finally allowing the yawn to pass your lips.

“It’s at one,” he corrected, and you shot up off of the grass.

“Shawn!” you cried, suddenly wide awake. “Why are we still here? You need to be home sleeping!”

“Relax, honey,” he laughed nonchalantly, propping himself onto his forearms. “I’ll be fine.”

“Shawn, it’s almost one in the morning and you have to be back here at, what, eleven a.m. tomorrow? How are you supposed to be fully rested for the game if--”

“Y/N,” he pressed, still amused.

You sighed, sinking onto your knees in the grass next to him. “I don’t want you to be exhausted tomorrow because of me.”

“It’s not like you’re holding me here against my will,” he laughed, and you finally let out a little giggle.

“I know, but you just said you were about to fall asleep,” you said softly, grabbing his elbow and gently helping him sit up. “I’m not sure the outfield grass is capable of providing a good night’s rest.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, standing up next to you. “You win.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, bringing up the flashlight on his phone to guide the two of you out of the stadium.

The two of you started walking back towards the dugout, Shawn bringing your hand up to place a chaste kiss to the back of it. “Thanks for coming to the game tonight,” he said quietly.

“Are you kidding?” you laughed, nudging his arm with your shoulder. “Keep pulling free tickets out of thin air and I’ll be at all of them.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” he teased, looking down at you with a smile.

“Maybe a few other things.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “So you’ll be at the game tomorrow then, too? Watch from the suite?”

“Sure,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. You didn’t know anyone that would be there other than Amanda, and even she had barely gotten the chance to talk to you. The idea of seeing the game with the group of the players’ wives and girlfriends made you a little nervous, but it clearly meant a lot to Shawn which proved that it should mean a lot to you.

“Cool,” he smiled, and you were able to see it touch his eyes in the dull light of his phone. “Now let’s go home.”

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jungblue · 7 years

Text

sonic rain (m)

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst ∘ dancer, college au

word count: 25,043

description: Feeling as if molasses coats his bones isn’t a good metaphor for a dance major like Hoseok, but maybe you’re the girl that can wash his troubles away… Now if only he’d gotten your damn number.

It was one of those miserably hot overcast days. The type where the sun’s rays proved useless against the murky clouds, the constant threat of rain just waiting for that opportune moment to pour down. Pour down and soak your backpack through to that $280 physics text book — yeah, it was that type of day.

From the time that Hoseok left for classes, to the time he arrived back at his tiny one-bedroom apartment, humidity consumed the air. The fabric of his tank-top and joggers clung to him with sweat, beads of perspiration coating the strands of his hair as he tucked it beneath a cap to combat his frizzy locks.

Just as he parked his car and gathered his books after a grueling day of dance practice mixed in with gen eds, he felt the light sprinkle of what would soon be another down pour. It was projected to rain through the night, harsh thunder storms with possible power outages predicted to begin in the next couple of hours. He quickly jogged to the front door, inserting the key before stumbling inside and tossing his backpack to the floor.

“Finally.” He sighed to himself, his body going limp as he collapsed against the couch.

It was only a few weeks into the semester and Hoseok was already dying for it to be over. Studying mixed in with his dance practices and part-time job didn’t exactly leave him with any time to relax. He mostly spent his downtime in positions such as this, sprawled out on his couch or bed, exhaustion enveloping his limbs. Even in this very moment he could already feel sleep tugging at his conscious.

However, interruption was something that had become all too common in Hoseok’s life. His phone began to ring in his pocket and with a groan he pulled it out to check who was disrupting his attempted (and failed) descent into a deep slumber. He vaguely squinted at the contact flashing across his screen before swiping it to answer.

“Yes, Jimin?” He answered, clipped and short.

“Fucking attitude.” Jimin scoffed, immediately picking up on Hoseok’s tone. “Dude, why’re you so pissy lately?”

“It’s called four-hour practices and fucking physics, dude. It’s not even seven and I’m already about to knock out.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta be an ass about it. But yeah, I guess there’s no point in asking you to come and hang out with me and Tae then? We were gonna smoke, thought I’d offer since you’re so wound up.”

Hoseok ignored the jab, instead opting to mull over the proposition for a few seconds. He really did need to relax. He hadn’t gone out in weeks because he was still trying to get used to balancing his schedule, so the offer was tempting. But he was also already laid out on his couch and his legs were not agreeing with the idea of getting in his car and driving.

“Sorry, I’m just tired,” He said, running a hand over his face. “And thanks, but I don’t wanna drive in the rain. I’ll probably pass out in like ten minutes anyway.”

“Suit yourself. Seriously though, you need to like get laid or something. Chill out for a bit, you know?” Yes, Hoseok definitely knew.

“Trust me, if I didn’t have work at ass o’ fucking clock every day, I would.” Hoseok grumbled. “But what about tomorrow? It’s my day off.”

Hoseok only got one day off a week this semester and on that day he spent it sleeping in and doing absolutely nothing so he could catch up on his rest. That was probably the reason he had been feeling so drained lately. He needed to go out, have fun. Going from constant parties, clubbing and hook-ups in the summer time to this had not been a pleasurable transition. So yeah, even if he was dead tired tomorrow, he was getting out of this damn rut.

“Oh shit, you’re actually gonna come out?” Jimin asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I’m over the highlight of my week being Criminal Minds marathons.”

“Christ, yeah we gotta get you out on the town again. I’ll call Namjoon and see if he’s down to throw a party or something.” Hoseok could already smell the beer and vomit. It was so weird that he actually missed that.

“Sounds good. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

The call ended and before he could even put his phone down, the device buzzed, showing that he only had ten percent of battery life left. He groaned, knowing full-well that his charger was all the way in his room, a whopping ten feet away, but it wasn’t like he actually needed it. He was about to knock soon, so he decided to simply lay it on the coffee table. Plus, if his phone died there wouldn’t be any more interruptions and maybe he could actually get a decent amount of rest before tomorrow.

At least that was what he had been hoping for. But as he found himself sprawled out along the couch, one hand laying beneath his head to act as a makeshift pillow while the other sat warmly in his pants, his thoughts decided to go haywire. Not only today’s dance practice but the dance practices from the past several weeks started to file through his head one by one. Each movement of his body coated in a sluggish thickness as he tried to twist and move with some semblance of fluidity, only to have failure staring back at him in the studio mirrors.

“Goddammit,” He mumbled to himself, flipping to his stomach to bury his face into the cushions.

This was something that had been plaguing Hoseok for a while now. Dancing was his passion, his life, his major, so how the hell did it feel as though it was starting to slip away from him? A few days or even a week or two, that was a normal length of time to go through spells of feeling dull and brittle. But it had been months. Months of his dancing feeling and looking calculated rather than seeming like second-nature as it always had. He narrowed this down to not being as excited about the craft as he once had been and that was honestly starting to scare the hell out of him.

He had expressed his concerns with a few of his closest friends, particularly the ones that were also dancers, such as Jimin. They all told him that it was normal. People get burned out on things all the time. It just means that you need a break or something to spark your passion again. In particular, Jimin had a story that gave Hoseok some hope.

Jimin told him that there was a time in high school that he almost quit dancing altogether because he just wasn’t enjoying it anymore. Nothing felt new or fresh, it was just the same thing over and over again. It was very similar to everything that Hoseok was currently feeling. But then one day his girlfriend from back then surprised him with some tickets to see a ballet. At that time in his life Jimin had mostly been a hip-hop dancer because it was his favorite genre and so the style just sort of stuck. Because of this he didn’t understand why she wanted to take him to see a show that was so opposite in terms of styles. But apparently she knew what she was doing because it took all of two minutes into the show for Jimin to become completely captivated. And although it might’ve been too late for Jimin to go down the ballet route due to his age, he found contemporary-style dancing instead. Nowadays that was what Jimin was best known for. In fact, he was generally regarded as the best contemporary dancer in the major. And that was someone who had been so close to quitting.

“It can be anything: a song, style, hell it can be the way a new pair of sneakers squeak against the floor while you’re dancing.” That was what Jimin told Hoseok when he asked him what he could do to get his motivation back. “Just gotta be patient. You’ll find it, whatever it is.”

So yeah, Hoseok had some hope. Though it was admittedly starting to dwindle since that conversation with Jimin had taken place weeks ago and he wasn’t any closer to finding something that made him feel that love for dancing again. Not yet at least.

He didn’t get it. He was physically exhausted, but it seemed as though his mind wanted to run wild for a little while longer, torturing him with his day-to-day issues. He tried to focus on the back of his eyelids, willing the thoughts of his troubles away, but they were persistent. They wormed their way back in with brute force. They festered, grew and multiplied, leaving him helplessly at their mercy.

After a cruel back and forth of trying to suppress his issues, Hoseok gave up with a lofty sigh cascading past his lips. Maybe a melatonin would help. He didn’t really like taking pills for things like sleeping, but in this case he would make an exception. He lifted himself off of the couch, steps sluggish as he stumbled towards the kitchen. Once he made it to the sink he began rummaging around in the top cabinet until he found the bottle that he was looking for. He popped the top off, dumping a pill into the palm of his hand. He yawned as he pulled a random mug from the dishes in his sink, washing it out before filling it up with some water.

He was getting ready to toss them into his mouth when he heard the faint rumble of thunder. It looked like the storm was starting sooner than he thought. He really wanted to be asleep before his air conditioning cut off since power outages were predicted as being highly likely. He found himself moving the tiny curtain that covered the window sitting above his sink out of curiosity, just to see how gray and dull the sky had gotten. But when he moved the randomly-pattered fabric to the side, fully expecting his attention to be consumed by the depressing gloom of the clouds, he was instead struck by the sight of something that nearly made him lose his grip on the glass in his hand. His eyes narrowed, brows pinching together as he leaned further into the window just to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was and that it wasn’t his exhaustion playing tricks on him.

Dripping from head to toe while surrounded in a tornado of rain, was a girl with headphones in her ears, slicing through the ruthless winds of the approaching storm with just her body and a beat.

It felt like such an instantaneous punch to his gut or shift in his lungs. Somehow he could taste the humidity from outside through every twist and turn of your limbs. Suddenly he found himself, elbows pressed against the window sill, wanting to be closer. He wanted to see the way the drenched strands of your hair stuck to your skin in new ways with every whip of your head. He wanted to hear the sound of the squelching grass beneath your sneakers as each step, stomp and twirl lured beads of water in some chaotic mirage around your skin. He wanted to hear the song that was conducting you along in these enthralling motions.

All of these desires crashed through his head at once. He didn’t know how long he might’ve stayed like that, completely paralyzed and enraptured, but with another rumbling of thunder coming overhead, he was pulled from his dreamy state. Instead his emotions were immediately replaced with concern. He had a feeling that you weren’t aware of the progression of the storm, the music from your headphones probably drowning it out. It wouldn’t be long before lightening started to pop, and you were in the middle of an open, grassy field that was going to have water up to your ankles once it rained just a little bit longer. Basically it was pretty much the worst possible place to be during a storm. And so before he knew it he was already shoving his shoes on and pulling a hoodie over his head and then heading through the backdoor.

“Shit,” He muttered as he took his first step along the soggy grass, water soaking through to his socks. He grimaced at the unnatural feeling. Dammit, it was going to take forever for his shoes to dry out and even longer for that wet smell to go away.

You weren’t very far into the field, which was probably the reason that he had been able to see so many details from just his kitchen window. But the closer he got, the more he felt as though he was about to interrupt something special. It had been some time since he had seen something that made him feel so raw. It didn’t look rehearsed, it felt like the moves were just coded inside of your DNA and you were simply expressing them. Seriously fuck this storm, Hoseok wanted nothing more than to continue watching you entranced in this rain-induced wonderland.

You still hadn’t noticed him yet, but considering you hadn’t noticed the thunder either, it wasn’t all that surprising that he wasn’t serving as a distraction. He side-stepped, almost slipping to the ground due to the wetness of the grass. How the hell were you dancing on this shit? It only served to impress him more.

Hoseok started to wave his hands around, hoping to get your attention. You were so in the zone that he honestly felt terrible about having to interrupt it. But having someone get fried to death when he could’ve prevented it is something he didn’t want to have weighing on his conscious. Your laser-focus lasted for all of ten more seconds before you finally noticed that you were no longer alone.

“Fuck!” Your movements halted, a sudden gasp pushing past your lungs as you ripped your headphones from your ears. “God… You scared the hell outta me.” You pressed your hand over your heart, ragged breaths filing out one after another.

Now that he was as close as he was, he could finally see the way your hair was clinging to your neck and face. If he looked close enough he could even see the droplets clinging to your eyelashes. And if he looked really, really close he could see the way the rain had completely soaked through your leggings and how you were in fact not wearing any underwear—but not the point.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just I saw you dancing from my window,” He motioned over his shoulder towards his apartment. “And I didn’t know if you could hear the thunder or not because of the headphones.”

You looked up at the sky, mouth parting as if you hadn’t realized the chaos that had been hanging above you. “Shit, that doesn’t look good.” You laughed, running a hand through your hair to finally move the strands behind your ears. “Thanks for looking out.”

“No problem, I—” The small rumblings of thunder suddenly turned colossal as one loud, cosmic boom seemed to shake the ground beneath the two of you. You both jumped, letting out yelps as a lightening bolt a short distance away popped against the sky.

“Uhm, do you think I could just chill in your apartment for a second while I check the bus routes?” You asked, clearly ready to get out of this deathtrap of a fucking field. “Sorry if it’s imposing or whatever. Feel free to say no, but if I get charred out here, my ghost’s gonna come back and haunt your ass.”

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing ever.” Hoseok chuckled, mouth tilting into this amused sideways grin. You could dance. You were funny. You were getting more and more interesting. “But yeah, that’s totally fine.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, motioning his head for you to follow him as he jogged across the field before he was slipping through his backdoor again. “So fucking gross,” He whispered to himself as he pulled his shoes off and peeled the socks along his skin, leaving them in a sopping mess by the door.

“Is it cool if I take mine off here too?” You pointed towards your feet.

“Yeah, go ahead. Want water or something while you wait? You were going pretty hard out there.” He asked over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.

“Oh you were watching?” You followed right behind him, leaning back against the counter as he pulled a cup from the cabinet. “Do I have a fan?” You smiled at him in this smug sort of way that had Hoseok’s blood tingling.

So confident, so sure of yourself, knowing full-fucking-well that he’d been watching you. But you said it in a way that sounded like you couldn’t exactly blame him for it, because it seemed that you just knew you were that good. Good enough for people to stop whatever they were doing just to admire the way you could move your body. That body that was currently on display beside him as you leaned further and further back against the counter, covered in those soaking-wet, see-through clothes, and you weren’t trying to be shy about it. He hadn’t spoken more than ten sentences to you and yet he could already use a few words to describe you. Poised, alluring, fascinating, but to boil it down simply—you were hot, and again, you fucking knew it.

“You do,” He said, pulling the Brita from the fridge. “Could the fan ask for your name?” You’d managed to cast such an impression around him already and he didn’t even know something as simple as that.

“Thanks,” You said as you took the glass of water. “And it’s Y/N. Could I ask for my savior’s name?”

He snorted. “Savior? Bit dramatic.”

“I’m oblivious to the world when I’m dancing, so I’d probably be fried to a crisp by now if you hadn’t gone out there. But I guess if you’d prefer a more relaxed title. Could I ask for this hot rescue boy’s name, please?” You brought the drink to your lips, smiling as your lips wrapped around the edge of the glass rim.

Oh you were good.

“Hot.” He repeated the word, chuckling because bluntness like that wasn’t something he got to hear every day. Advances towards him tended to be very coy and hidden, so it was an intriguing change. “Hoseok, hot rescue boy at your service.”

“I’ll definitely remember that.” You placed the glass down on the counter, eyeing him up and down to push your insinuation further.

He grinned, tongue running along the inside of his cheek. You were sly; he loved it. “As much as I’m sure you’d love to experience all of my services, weren’t you supposed to be checking when the next bus was coming?” Not that he wanted you to leave yet, the complete opposite actually, but he also didn’t want you to get stranded here with no way to go if you wanted to.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Sorry, got a little… distracted.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, performing several taps and typing motions along your screen as you presumably went to find the bus times.

“Not that I’m rushing you.” He decided to add, on the slight chance that maybe you would want to stay a bit longer. Sure, you were attractive and that was causing him to get a bit sidetracked, but he actually really wanted to talk to you about your dancing. It’d made him feel something that he hadn’t experienced in months, so he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to see you leave.

You giggled. “Someone sounds like they want me to stay—” But your laughter was cut short as your brows began to furrow while looking at your screen. You seemed to be zooming further in just to make sure that you were seeing whatever you were looking at correctly. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” You whispered, palm coming down to rest against your forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uhm, it says that the buses stopped running like fifteen minutes ago because the worst of the storm is about to hit. Shit, how the hell am I gonna get home?” You asked, seemingly more to yourself than Hoseok.

“Any friends you can call?”

“I don’t wanna make them drive in this weather. It’s already pretty bad and it’s only supposed to get worse.” You sighed, massaging at your temples like you were trying coax a solution out.

Hoseok had to admit that he thought seeing you a bit flustered and not so put-together was a bit amusing, even a little cute. Though he did feel bad that you were basically stuck with nowhere to go. It wasn’t as if you could walk. He could only think of one solution really.

“Uhm, I mean I know we just met, but if you want you can crash here until the storm lets up. It’s cool if not, just an offer.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem as casual as possible. He didn’t mind you staying here for the night, he thought that he’d quite enjoy it actually, but staying with some random guy you just met less than ten minutes ago wasn’t exactly an easy decision he assumed.

You pursed your lips, appearing to mull over the proposition as you started to look at him on a deeper level than just attraction. You were sizing him up, eyes tearing all the way down his body. Hoseok felt like he was being picked apart beneath your gaze, fearing that if he moved even an inch it would tip some weird scale inside of your head. But eventually you did seem to relax, shoulders dropping slightly as you took one small step closer to him.

“Promise you’re not a serial killer or something? Because again, my ghost’ll for real come back here and kick your ass.”

“Oh, you aren’t cool with my human head collection in the bathroom?” He motioned behind himself, laughing when you seemed to relax further, swatting playfully at his shoulder with a smile carving its way along your lips. “But yes, I promise not to go all Jeffrey Dahmer on your ass.”

“How kind.” You mused. “You know, a random but related story is that I was seeing this guy a while back, and I didn’t know that he wore glasses. He put them on for the first time when he was taking me home and then I shit you not he turned to look at me and went, do these make me look like a murderer? Like who the hell asks that?” You threw your hands in the air.

“That seriously happened?” Hoseok asked, cracking up.

“Yeah, and the worst part was that they were legit Jeffrey Dahmer glasses. Like dude, pick a different style.”

“Hey, maybe he was going for that Dwight Schrute look.” Hoseok chuckled. “Did you see him again after that? I would hope not.”

You shook your head, shifting your hips to lean against the counter again. “No, he was a weird guy—obviously. Plus, he always tasted like this weird mixture of kiwis and weed whenever we kissed.” You made this gross, grimacing face. “So yeah, didn’t last.”

“Doesn’t sound that bad to be honest.” Pretty appealing actually. “Well, unless you don’t like kiwis and weed, then I could see the issue.”

“Trust me I enjoy both of them, just not when they’re colliding like some violent concoction inside someone’s saliva that I happen to be making out with.”

“Hm, guess I’ll have to try it out one day, see if your taste buds are just fucked.” He shrugged.

“Got some weed and kiwis? I’ll literally show you right now how gross it is.”

He smiled, having a feeling that even if it wasn’t the most pleasing of combinations, he’d still enjoy having your tongue in his mouth nonetheless. “Sorry, smoked all my stuff last week. Been too busy to worry about buying more. Plus, no kiwis unfortunately.” He never thought that he’d have so much regret for having no fresh kiwis in his fridge.

“Aw, too bad.”

“It really is.”

You smiled, knowing that he would’ve totally been down for the taste test. “Oh, but yeah, sorry we got sidetracked on serial killers and kiwis. Uhm, are you sure you’re cool with me staying? I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If anything I can call an Uber, take our chances in this shit storm.”

Hoseok snorted, there was just something about the way that you talked that he really liked. “No, you’re fine. I promise.”

“Okay, seriously though thanks for letting me stay. I know I can seem like a snarky bitch, but I’m an appreciative snarky bitch.”

“Good to know.” He smiled. “But since you’re staying, I’m sure you don’t wanna be in wet clothes all night. I’ll go grab you something.”

You hummed a small thank you as he started towards his bedroom. When he got to his dresser he began rummaging around in the drawers, trying to find something that might fit. He stumbled upon a random shirt at the very bottom of the pile with a bunch of greek letters as the design. Hoseok remembered that it belonged to a girl he’d hooked up with a few months back. He thought that it’d be an okay enough fit as he placed it on his shoulder while he fished around for a pair of sweatpants. When he returned to the kitchen he found you walking along the tile, fingertips slowly running along the counters as you studied your surroundings. It was amazing, even doing something so simple you still seemed to have such control over your body. Each movement so confident and steady, even when you noticed that he’d returned, the way you suddenly halted, perfectly balanced on the tips of your feet.

Wow, he was literally getting turned on by your perfect posture. Seriously how fucked was he?

“Here you go,” He said as he handed the pile of clothes over to you. Simple as if he hadn’t just been fantasizing about how you could probably step on his face and still keep yourself perfectly balanced. “The bathroom’s right there.”

“You’re not getting these back you know?” You smirked, walking past him to the door he’d pointed out.

“I’m aware.” He chuckled. Hoseok was well acquainted with what happened when you gave girls clothes. It was as good as gone the second they slipped it over their bodies. “I don’t like those sweatpants anyways,” He called out as you closed the door behind you. That was a lie though, they were actually one of his favorites.

As he waited for you he walked around the kitchen aimlessly, just trying to pass the time. Opening and closing the cabinets to look for nothing in particular or tapping his feet along the tile in some made up rhythm from his head. While doing this he noticed the sleeping pill that he’d tossed to the counter earlier when he went out to warn you about the storm. It was weird, he hadn’t noticed until now but he didn’t feel as tired anymore. It was like his exhaustion just up and vanished. Because of this he slipped the pill back into the bottle and placed it on the top shelf above the sink.

He heard the bathroom door open from behind him, and when he turned around to see you emerging in a fresh pair of clothes, he felt his chest get a little tight. His sweatpants were hanging low on your hips and the shirt was on the shorter side, allowing him to see a small peek of your skin right above the waistline. Plus, you weren’t wearing a bra anymore. He definitely noticed that.

“Sorority girls, huh?” You asked, pointing at the shirt as you joined him back in the kitchen. “Must’ve been fun.”

“Oddly vanilla actually.”

Your eyes widened, something like curiosity seeming to glimmer inside of them. “Do we have a kinky one here?” You stepped closer, wiggling your brows. It made him chuckle, but it also made his gut twist, because it almost seemed like you were hoping.

“It’s not that. She was just into strictly missionary.” That had been… a strange night, to say the least.

You scrunched up your nose, head tilted like you were so utterly confused. “And how’d that go?”

“I mean it wasn’t awful. She… She was nice.” He settled on.

“So in translation you were bored,” You said matter-of-factly.

“I mean we both came, so does the rest really matter?” He asked, knowing full-well that it absolutely mattered. You seemed to agree with the way you were looking at him with such an incredulous expression.

“If it didn’t matter I’d just stick with my vibrator for the rest of my life. She has a one-hundred percent success rate in making me cum. Guys on the other hand… not so victorious, but yet I still have sex with them for some reason.” You had your arms crossed over your chest, trying to make a point, but now all Hoseok could think about was you with a vibrator buzzing between your legs.

“Your vibrator is a she?” Hoseok asked after he did his best to shove the image from his head.

“I said it makes me cum every time doesn’t it?” You were smirking at him, the quip like a punch to his manhood.

He was shaking his head, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “Damn, that’s cold.”

You shrugged as if to say, I’m just being honest, with something insinuated beneath the surface that went sort of like, do you wanna try and prove me wrong?

“I would say that you just haven’t met the right guys, but hey I don’t have a proven track record with you like Ms. Vibrator, so I guess you’ll just have to take my word on it.”

“Mm, I much prefer actions,” You whispered, giving his chest a light tap that sent a jolt through his limbs.

Hoseok opened his mouth, some variation of ‘let me show you’ dancing on his tongue. However, it was cut short by whatever cruel entity controlled the weather looming above the two of you, because suddenly thunder was cracking down, rattling the house and taking the lights along with it in one punishing flash.

You both screamed, Hoseok’s hands immediately coming down on your shoulders as you dove forward to bury your fingers in the front of his shirt, face pressed into his shoulder. Both of your chests were rising and falling at a rapid rate, the scare of that massive burst of thunder leaving you both shaken.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighed, waiting for his heartrate to even out. “You good?” He asked, looking down to see you still hiding.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You pulled back, eyes still a little wild from that sudden rush of fear. “It just scared the hell outta me.”

“No, same. Uhm, let’s go to the living room, less windows.” He pressed his hand to your lower back, ushering you in the right direction.

“My heart’s still pounding.” You sat down on the couch, bringing your legs up to your chest to rest them beneath your chin. “Can’t believe I was dancing in that shit.”

“Yeah me either,” He said, flopping down on the opposite end. “Though speaking of that, mind me asking why you were dancing out in the rain in the first place?”

“Practicing for a performance I have next week.”

“Performance?” Hoseok asked, interest piquing.

“Yeah just a random dance thing.” You shrugged.

“No, I get it. I’m a dancer too. I major in it over at KU.”

Your eyes were practically bugging out of your head at that. “No fucking way! I mean I figured you went to KU too, but I can’t believe you’re a dancer. Wow, funny how things work out.” You smiled, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“You go to KU too? Are you a dance major?”

“No, it’s more of a side thing. I’ve danced all my life though, so I didn’t want to just quit when I got to college.”

Wow, dancing was your ‘side thing’ and you were still that great at it. Hoseok would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. “Yeah, I get it. I thought about majoring in something different, but I didn’t really have anything else that I found interesting enough.”

“Must really love dancing, huh?”

Hoseok’s lips pursed at the question, fingers tapping nervously at his thighs. “Well, I mean I do love it… But lately I’ve just been having a dry spell. A bit burnt out, you know?”

You nodded, giving that sympathetic look that said you’d been there. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Yeah, just wish I’d hurry up and get over it. It’s been months. Seeing you dance earlier was actually the first spark I’d had in a while, so thanks for that.” He glanced over at you, sending a small smile your way. Hoseok was surprised to see that you were looking a bit flustered. Nothing too crazy, just the slight widening of your eyes and parting of your lips. And even though he very much enjoyed the brash side that you’d shown to him so far, he had to admit that he liked this too. But suddenly you were blinking, pushing the rattled expression away, leaving him feeling as though he’d imagined it.

“I tend to have that effect on people.” You smirked, splaying yourself further out along the couch. “But I wanna see you dance. Show me something.”

“Oh god, feel like I’m about to get crucified.” He joked as he lifted himself from the couch.

“Hey, I’m not that mean.”

“So you admit you’re somewhat mean.”

“It’s my charm.”

Hoseok had to agree. “You wanna play me something?” He asked.

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, seeming to scroll in search of something. “Any specific genre?”

Hoseok mulled over a few options. Again, he’d been struggling lately to get his natural charisma back, but there were certain styles that still came easy to him regardless of the troubles he was currently dealing with. “R&B or something.” He finally decided on.

“Oh does that mean I’m getting a lap dance?” You glanced up from your phone, one brow arched.

“You got money?” He laughed, popping the waistband of his joggers for good measure.

You scoffed. “Hey, I’m a guest.”

“Guests don’t pay the bills, babe.” He winked with an apologetic shrug.

You crossed your arms over your chest with a pout. “See if you ever get to watch me dance ever again.”

He wasn’t going to lie, the idea actually stung. Not getting to see the way you commanded his attention with such ease and confidence. It was more so something that he wanted to play on a loop inside of his head. Rain or no rain, you were captivating all the same.

Music from your phone started to suddenly play, pulling him from his fantasies of watching you dance. The beat and tempo were simple enough, sort of sounding like every other R&B song in existence but that made things easier on him. He knew exactly when the swells and drops of the song were coming even though he’d never heard it before, so he quickly fell into a nice rhythm.

It was all precise but soft movements that allowed him to flow from one move to the next. His limbs acted as extensions of the song with each pop of his arms or roll of his hips. He was light on his feet, pumping his chest and cocking his head, because he was just feeling it. But even though Hoseok knew it wasn’t going to be that difficult because of the genre, he still hadn’t expected it to be this… easy?

For months now his thoughts had been jumbled while dancing, translating into something that looked unnatural. Unnatural-looking being the absolute worst critique you could get as a dancer. It had been weighing on him all this time, but right now, in front of you, everything seemed to click. He wasn’t thinking, he wasn’t anticipating, he was just moving with the music; letting it shroud him completely.

But maybe there were some other factors involved, such as the fact that you were tearing through him with such a ruthless gaze, like you were trying to pick him apart. Having that pressure only made him do better, having your eyes on him only made him go harder. Each movement was twisted together with a little extra something. The stomps were rougher, the thrusts smoother, his hands wandering longer in places that your attention seemed to be gravitating towards. It was because of this, along with the way he watched your legs part as your mouth went a little bit slack, that after a minute or two of dancing to the song he was literally falling into you.

He placed his knee on the outside of one of your legs, hands coming to rest on the back of the couch right next to either side of your head. You gasped, a tiny one that maybe he wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been so close to you. It filled his chest with this sort of pride, because you seemed like the type of person who was always two steps ahead, never surprised by the situations unfolding around you. And yet here you were, eyes wide and glistening beneath him, mouth parting further as your tongue scathed slowly along the edges of your teeth.

If Hoseok were an impatient person he would take the plunge and just kiss you already, since it was so fairly obvious by the back and forth between the two of you that it was inevitably going to happen. However, as he looked down at you, lips practically quivering as they waited for him, he thought pressing the game further would be more interesting.

He hadn’t known you long, but he could already tell that you loved the thrill of being wanted. It was because of this that he was very aware of the fact that you were expecting him to make the first move. You anticipated him to crumble beneath your sex-appeal, having the satisfaction of knowing you were just that sought after. And although Hoseok certainly didn’t differ from the masses in the respect that, yes he absolutely wanted to fuck you, he also wanted you to be the one who bent first. Be the one who had to admit through that first act how much you desired him. And so with his lips hovering barely an inch above yours, eyes already slipping closed as you expected him to close the distance, Hoseok initiated a sultry roll of his hips against your own, pulling this time a desperate squeak from your throat.

“Dance for me,” He whispered with a smirk, pulling back enough to give you the hint that he wasn’t going any further yet.

You seemed almost disoriented for a few seconds afterwards, like it took a bit longer for his words to nudge through the hazy film that’d settled over you. But suddenly your brows were furrowing, mouth opening and closing, until finally you simply scoffed because you realized what he was trying to do. Immediately your eyes were ablaze, setting fire to the pliable women who had been anxiously awaiting him for the past several moments.

“So we’re gonna play that game, huh?” You asked, one brow cocked as you placed the palm of your hand over his chest, the heat seeming to break through his shirt and past his skin, where it wrapped around his blood, slowing his pulse to a steady, hot rush that he could feel throbbing in his ears.

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Hoseok grinned when your eyes narrowed into slits, fist curling around the fabric of his tank-top as you pushed him down to the seat beside you before straddling his lap.

“You’re gonna break first. You know that, right?” You grabbed your phone, tapping it once to start the song over before tossing it to the other side of the couch.

“I’m not the same as those other dudes you fuck around with.” Hoseok settled his hands on your hips and you were immediately relaxing into his touch, a small sigh passing through your lips. He chuckled, finding it so endearing how you were all bark and no bite. “I can hold out on pussy—no matter how good it probably is.” No matter how good he knew it was going to be, and you seemed to agree.

“First of all, swap probably with definitely.” You placed your hands on top of his, pulling them from your waist and placing them back on the couch. Then you pinched at the front of the shirt he gave you, showing off the greek letters on the front. “And second of all, same, I’m not like those other girls you fuck around with. I can break you.”

“I knew that the second I saw you dancing earlier,” Hoseok said in this charmed sort of way, because that was exactly what you’d managed to do to him.

“Oh, speaking of.” Suddenly you were turning around on Hoseok’s lap, your back now molded along the front of his stomach.

Oh fuck. He held his breath, forcing himself to keep the thoughts inside of his head instead of saying them out loud. This being slightly more difficult due to the way your ass was perfectly pressed against the semi already forming in his pants.

“For someone who was talking so much smack, you’re pretty fucking hard already.” You glanced over your shoulder with a smirk, moving your hips with the beat of the music.

“It’s a… biological reaction.” Hoseok’s voice was tight as he tried to think about anything besides how good it felt to have you grinding against his dick… Alright, maybe he wasn’t trying that hard.

“Mhm, whatever you say.” You were still rutting against him with such smooth sexual prowess, knowing every inch of your body so perfectly as you tortured him in the best of ways. But he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Don’t act like you’re not dripping already.” He said, trying to regain control as he shifted beneath you, finally giving his cock a breather from your movements.

However, this seemed to backfire on him, because suddenly you were grabbing his hands and guiding them to rest on the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. “Why don’t you find out?”

You rolled your head back against his shoulder, teasing his fingers into the waistband. Yup, you definitely hadn’t been wearing underwear earlier. Hoseok had to grit his teeth as if it physically hurt him not to slip his hands lower to find out how wet you were.

You turned your head, lips grazing against his ear as you started to whisper. “Don’t you wanna see how wet I got just from watching you dance?” Goddammit.

You knew exactly what buttons to press. Seeing and feeling a physical embodiment of how much he could get you going without having to even touch you was too tempting for him to resist. But it seemed that luck was on his side today, because just as his hands were about to slip past the point of no return, a booming round of thunder that rivaled the one that’d already knocked the electricity out came crashing down.

Again you both screamed, so caught up in the game of trying to get the other to break that you’d almost forgotten about the storm going on outside. You turned around, once again burying your face in his shirt while the aftershocks continued to rumble. He rested his hands on your sides as he tried to calm the heavy rise and fall of his chest. He’d been so focused on trying not to touch you that when the spell got interrupted he almost forgot to breathe. But eventually you both came down from the adrenaline rush that the thunder had caused. You lifted your head, pupils blown out wide and he had no doubt that his were the same.

You groaned, lips pouting. “Who knew god was such a fucking cock block?”

“He was looking out.” Hoseok chuckled. “I was about to get sucked in by your magic, snake-charming vagina.”

“…I could take that a lot of ways, but I’m gonna go with it as a compliment.”

“One-hundred percent a compliment. It’s… alluring.”

There was one brief pause of silence on your end before you burst into laughter. “I mean thanks, I guess? Never had a guy call my vagina alluring before.”

“Fucking with the wrong guys.” Hoseok shrugged, a playful grin gracing his lips.

“Yeah, apparently.” You smiled back, one hand playing with a small strand of his hair that’d slipped from his hat.

“It’s starting to get kind of hot without the air conditioning,” Hoseok said after he shifted on the couch, feeling the way his shirt was starting to slightly stick to his back.

“Well, the dancing probably wasn’t helping.”

“Or the grinding.” Hoseok looked down at where you were still straddling his lap.

“Oh, how absolutely torturous that must’ve been for you.” You brought your fists up, mocking him with some fake cries that made him chuckle. “Let me go get the baby a glass of water.”

You lifted yourself off of his lap, heading towards the kitchen with a swing in your hips that could kill. Hoseok let his head collapse back against the couch once you were out of sight. He didn’t know how all of this escalated so quickly. From him inviting you inside so that you didn’t getting charred right outside of his window, to you literally dancing on his dick. Guess that was just what happened when you stuck two people together who weren’t shy about what they wanted.

“Hey!” He heard you suddenly shout from the kitchen before you were appearing around the corner, one bottle in each of your hands with a look of insinuation covering your face.

Hoseok eyed the drinks, heartbeat kicking itself up a notch. “Really?”

“Yes,” You slinked further into the living room, setting the orange juice onto the coffee table. “Really.”

He licked at his lips, a defeated sigh already rattling its way up his throat as he leaned forward, hand wrapping around the bottleneck of the vodka that was still resting in your other hand. He could feel the silent back and forth, the question of who was going to lose this game now that alcohol was inevitably going to speed-up the disintegration of every ounce of self-control that you both had. Well, guess it was time to find out.

“I’ll get the shot glasses.”

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

“God, that shit is fucking foul.” You slammed the shot glass down on the table for the fourth time already, the cup of orange juice quickly being tipped back to chase the taste of Hoseok’s admittedly cheap alcohol away.

He snickered as he poured himself another shot, a light heat already starting to scathe his cheeks. “Hey, we can’t all have Grey Goose budgets.”

“Doesn’t have to be Grey Goose—but Pinnacle?” You fell back against the couch, still grimacing from the taste. “It’s literal death.”

“Find me another brand that’ll give you a whole bottle for seven bucks and then you can complain.”

“Oh, I know one. It’s called rubbing alcohol.”

Hoseok snorted, throwing the shot back before his face distorted in disgust. “Honesty, that would probably taste better.” His voice was raspy as he reached for the cup of orange juice, desperately gulping it down.

You leaned forward, lips catching the edge of Hoseok’s ear. “Exactly,” You whispered, breath splaying out across his skin, and he had to physically force down the shiver that threatened to follow.

But he wasn’t going to go down that easily. Suddenly he was shifting, head tilting so that he was now facing you, noses almost brushing due to how close the two of you were. He managed to catch the tiny hitch in your breath, causing him to move even closer, like you were a magnet just pulling him in, but he stopped himself before he got too far, enjoying the way that you were staring at him all wide-eyed and anticipating.

“But I can think of a lot of things that probably taste better.” He glanced down, eyeing the way your legs were spread open. He smiled when he earned a glare from you.

“Bitch, my pussy is premium, it does not dare to even be related to the devil that is Pinnacle vodka.”

Hoseok laughed, tongue running along the edge of his teeth. “You are crass.”

“And you love it.”

“You’re right.”

The two of you kind of just stared at each other for a second, tiny smiles plastered along your expressions. He seriously didn’t know how it was possible to become enamored so quickly by someone. But you made it all too easy, waltzing into his home like some tornado entrenched in rain and thunder.

He watched as you shifted once again, falling back against the arm chair of the couch. You were staring at him with this fiery glimmer in your eyes, and he knew in that moment he was about to get utterly screwed.

“Well, how about we get a little bit more crass?” You asked.

Yeah, he was fucked. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, it doesn’t really seem like the electricity’s gonna come back on any time soon, and I think the cell-phone towers got knocked out because my phone isn’t working… Also since someone’s being a bit stubborn,” You paused, cocking your head to the side. “Guess we have to pass the time somehow, so—”

“—I think you secretly like that I’m being stubborn.”

“Uhm, I like orgasms, which depending on your skill level, maybe I could be having right now.”

Hoseok shrugged, smirking as he motioned towards himself. “Come and start it then.”

“Anyways,” You said, eyes narrowing as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Truth or dare?”

Immediately he was shaking his head, laughing at your sly attempt. “Hell no. You’re just gonna ask me to kiss you.”

You huffed, pursing your lips. “Fine, how about just truths then?”

“Just truths?”

“Mhm,” You hummed simply, but there was something sinister in that poisonous grin of yours, and Hoseok found that he was willing to take that chance of getting bitten by whatever venom you were hiding.

“Fine, let’s play.”

“Alright, I’ll go first.” You clapped excitedly, folding your legs beneath you as you shifted your body to face him. “So, tell me what did you think when you first saw me?”

“Narcissist much?” He chuckled. “But hm, do you mean when I first saw you through the window or when I went to go talk to you so you didn’t get your ass fried?”

You shrugged. “Both.”

“Well, I thought you were a really good dancer, but you already knew that.” He thought a lot of things in those first few minutes of watching you actually, but he decided to keep just how smitten he was to himself for now.

“And when you went out to talk to me?”

He remembered one thing very clearly. “No panties, huh?”

“Still no panties.” You popped the band of your sweats. “Wanna see?”

Hoseok tongued along the inside of his cheek, having to physically clamp down on his bottom lip before he rasped a longing, desperate ‘yes.’ “My turn to ask a question.” He cleared his throat, ignoring your proposition as he tried to push images of how you probably look beneath those layers of clothes out of his mind.

You made a face of defeat at his lack of a response. “Alright, go for it.”

“How badly do you want me to kiss you?” He smirked.

You sighed, fingers tapping along the top of your thigh. “There’s a… slight desire.”

“Slight, huh? But I seem to remember you talking about how wet you got just from watching me dance? So it’d be a little more than slight, no?” Hoseok thought that being so blunt would give him the upper hand, yet he should’ve known to expect more from you by now, how you didn’t crumble so easily.

“You got my answer, so it’s my turn.” You rattled off quickly, shifting to sit up on your knees, towering over him like some beautiful, intoxicating dream. “Would you like to see exactly just how wet I am?” A dream with such a dirty fucking mouth.

“Yes,” He whispered, no hesitation, even if it was inevitably going to crush his resolve.

You smiled down at him, grinning so devilishly as you lifted one leg to place it on the other side of his lap so that you were straddling him. His eyes tore down your body, pausing to once again marvel at the way his sweatpants clung so low on your hips. That tantalizing strip of skin that was just begging to be touched.

Hoseok’s ragged inhale rang in his chest as you suddenly brought your hand down the front of your pants. Your lips parted, making him wonder what it’d be like to have them all wet and swollen as they wrapped around his dick. But that idea had to be shuffled to the back of the line for now, your twisting expression catching all of his attention. You threw your head back, fingers working yourself over, and he had to clench his fists as his side to stop himself from settling his hands along your waist.

He was partly thankful when you finally stopped touching yourself, since it was becoming physically painful to watch you without being able to do anything about it. However, when you slid your hand out of the waistband, fingers completely soaked in your own arousal, he almost wished that you wouldn’t have shown him. Though that thought quickly vanished when his cock started to kick in his pants.

“Alright,” You murmured, voice entrenched in lust. “What question would you like to ask me?”

You spread your fingers, lowering them until they were hovering above his face. He gritted his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. You smelled so fucking good, and it had his blood spiking straight to his dick. He glanced up at you, pupils blown wide at the sight of your heaving chest as you waited for him to speak.

“Do you want me to know what you taste like?” He was practically panting at this point, tongue already resting on the edge of his bottom teeth, like a dog just wanting to please.

He thought he heard you whimper as you jerked your head up and down in a silent confirmation. Hoseok parted his mouth a little bit wider. You took your other hand, threading it through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling it back to make him look up at you. His eyes were halfway closed as you placed the tips if two of your fingers along his bottom lip, and he could somehow hear your shaky sigh past the rattling in his ears as he closed his mouth around them, tongue lapping at the wetness he’d earned from you.

“Fuck,” You mumbled, breathless as you eased down to sit completely on his lap, the tip of his cock digging straight into your pussy.

He groaned around your fingers, hips bucking up out of instinct, forcing a whine from your throat. His tongue ran along your skin, leaving it spit-slick as he pulled back, strings of saliva and arousal connecting your fingers to his lips.

“God, please stop being so fucking stubborn and just kiss me.” You rasped, hands coming down to rest on either side of his face.

Even through his haze Hoseok still managed a laugh. “Could say the same to you.”

You huffed, falling to rest your forehead against his. Instantly he had his hands coming to rest at your waist. You were staring at him through heavy-lidded eyes that had his chest buzzing. Just like you, he couldn’t hold out for much longer, so in some last-ditch effort he found himself dragging you by the hips along his painfully hard member. His head fell back against the couch, completely blissed out. But he still watched the way you squeaked out in surprise, and he thought he could feel you shiver beneath his palms.

You both certainly looked like you were past the point of being able to hold out for much longer, and thankfully it seemed that you were finally over this game of seeing who would break first, because suddenly you were sitting back as you locked your fingers together, resting them on top of your head while you laughed. You were shaking your head, like you couldn’t believe that someone could possibly hold out on you for this long.

“Wow,” You sighed, smiling. “And I thought I was good.”

He shook his head. “Trust me, you are fucking fantastic.”

You stared at him for a second, eyes darting to and from his lips before you released that last raspy sigh of defeat. “Gonna get you next time.” And then you were kissing him, fingers yanking him closer by the shirt as your grinded yourself against his crotch.

Hoseok grabbed your jaw, forcing it lower to lick into your mouth. Muffled hums reverberated along his throat with each brush of your tongue sending violent shudders through his blood. His hands dipped lower, squeezing at the top of your thighs, urging them wider before he hooked one arm around your back while taking his free hand to grip around his hardened member through the fabric of his pants. He hauled you forward, pressing his cock against you so he could start dragging it back and forth along your center. You pulled back from the kiss with a smack of your lips, dropping your head to watch him work you over. Your breath hitched each and every time he managed to catch your clit.

“Fuck this.” You sighed after a few moments, lifting yourself off of his lap to stand up.

Hoseok hissed as you hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing them down until they were pooling at your ankles. He marveled at you, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip when he saw the way your inner thighs were already glistening.

“C’mere,” He rasped, pulling you back down onto his lap, heat pressed firmly against his dick again.

“Oh, god.” You rolled your hips, eyes fluttering shut at the lack of layers between the two of you.

You were so wet, a stain already forming on the front of his pants, and he could feel himself pulsing beneath the motions of you sliding up and down his cock. Honestly, it was starting to get borderline painful, having you so close but not being able to fully feel you. And so he gripped at your waist, pushing you down to lay flat against the couch as he hovered above you, hips giving you one more slow, torturous grind that had you both moaning.

Hoseok shifted positions so that he was laying on his side, right next to your body that was fully splayed out before him, leaving his mouth running a little dry. He placed the palm of his hand along your stomach, the shirt he gave you pushed up around your ribs in a way that gave him a small peek of the bottom of your breasts. He glanced at you, lungs seizing up at just how fucked out you looked already.

“You know, as much as I appreciate you staring at me like I’m some goddess,” You paused, halfway breathless. “I would like it a lot more if you’d finger me already.”

There was one beat of silence before he was laughing, forehead falling to rest against your shoulder. “You’re really bossy, you know that?”

“Oh, I’ll show you boss—” You tried to say, but Hoseok was already running the pads of his fingers along your swollen clit before you could finish. He couldn’t help but smirk at the way the words dissipated like smoke along your tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to nuzzle yourself further into his touch. But he was also sort of left in awe at just how wet you were, getting to feel it himself for the first time.

“So hot,” He murmured against your mouth before he was kissing you again, hand returning to your slick, sopping heat. You whimpered against his tongue as he slid two fingers inside of you, the stretch tight, and it made his gut twist. “Shit, can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

“Impress me and maybe I’ll l-let you get that far.” You stuttered, back arching off the couch.

“I’ll make sure to get right on that.” He smiled, fingers suddenly hooking inside of you to rub along your walls in a way that had you gasping beneath him, your hands finding their way fisted into Hoseok’s hair. “Would you say I’m on the right track?” He asked, smug.

“Don’t get smart—” You paused, whimpering at one particular thrust of his fingers. “—Or I won’t suck your dick later.”

“Damn, you really know how to threaten a guy.” Hoseok tried to say it evenly, but the idea of your lips wrapped around him had his head going a bit hazy.

“That’s because you’re too easy.” You chuckled, tugging him down until your mouths were slanting together.

Hoseok couldn’t exactly disagree, not with how his dick twitched every time you clenched around his fingers, each swipe of your tongue leaving him rutting against your thigh. But even then it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel more of you, taste more of you, hear more from you. Suddenly he was pulling his fingers from your entrance, thumb giving your clit a quick rub before he was sitting up, and he thought he could’ve died right on the spot from the death glare you were giving him.

You were shaking your head. “No, no, we’re not doing any edging bullshit—”

“Let’s go to my room, wanna eat you out.”

You blinked a few times. “Alright.”

Hoseok laughed as he stood up, reaching out his hand to help pull you off of the couch. “And I’m the easy one, huh?”

You sighed, smiling as you rested your hand along the front of his chest. “You’re so not getting your dick sucked.”

“I don’t care.” He shrugged, gripping your waist to tug you closer.

“You should.” You grinned wickedly beneath him, hands coming up to cup his face. “I give great head.” And then you were closing the distance, tongue parting the seam of Hoseok’s lips.

“I don’t doubt it,” He whispered in between each kiss as he started to blindly lead you towards his bedroom.

Hoseok kicked the door shut behind him, guiding the two of you until you were standing at the foot of the bed. Your tongue slid along the back of teeth, hips grinding into his dick. He seriously thought that he’d never been this hard in his entire life, and it had him going into a borderline frenzy. He pulled back from you with a gentle bite along your bottom lip, reaching down to tear your last piece of clothing over your head. But you seemed to be a little desperate too, chest rising and falling so heavily as you did the same to him, yanking his shirt up his torso and throwing it to the floor. You reached out to hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweats as you backed yourself onto the bed, pulling him down on top of you.

“Move up a bit.” Hoseok tapped at your side, lifting himself onto his knees to watch you inch back to lean against the mound of pillows he had placed against the headboard.

You laid there before him, legs spread wide with a glistening cunt as the dying sunlight streaming in through the blinds cut patterns along your skin. Hoseok thought in that moment that he could stay like this forever. Such a fiery soul wrapped in such a beautiful body, pressed along his bed as the rain fell outside in a constant deafening downpour.

“I know I’m hot and a great picture to stare at, but you wanna fix this,” You paused, waving your hands over your slick center. “Issue that you’ve caused?”

“Issue?” Hoseok scoffed, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Didn’t think getting you so wet would be considered a bad thing.”

“It is when it doesn’t get taken care of.” Your hand came down on his jaw, thumb grazing along his bottom lip. “Starting to think you’re all talk.”

You kissed him before he could get a word in, sighing into his mouth as his tongue snuck around your own. It seemed that you loved antagonizing with your words that were so sharp and baiting, luring him into your game of proving your words about him wrong. If this was anyone else he could probably hold out for a little bit longer, tease until they snapped, but with you… He just couldn’t.

“You weren’t saying that five minutes ago when you were about to cum on my fingers.” He pulled away, cocking his head to the side as he lifted himself to his knees again.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re so—”

You didn’t get to finish before Hoseok had his head in between your legs, tongue traveling up your swollen heat, wetness already dripping down his chin. He felt you relax into him, legs hooking over his shoulders as your head fell back against the pillows, a stuttered hitch in your breath clamoring up your throat.

“You were saying?” Hoseok asked, pulling back to rest his head against your thigh with a sly smile beaming up at you.

“Such a dick,” You muttered, suddenly reaching down to thread your hand through Hoseok’s hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan. You stared down at him expectantly, one brow arched like you were just daring him to defy you.

Normally Hoseok would’ve taken that challenge. However, looking up at you in that moment, fingers curling around his hair with such fire and demand reflecting off of your eyes, he found himself crumbling beneath the pressure in a way that he’d never experienced with anyone else before. Something twisted so pleasantly in his gut at the idea of being so obedient under your commanding silence. His shoulders dropped, head easing into the direction of your grip before he was licking a wide stripe up your center. You squeaked when his hands came down on top of your thighs, nails digging tiny crescents into your skin as he ate you out.

“Fuck—” You rasped, neck baring back, fingers digging further into his scalp. He hissed, sighing a cooling breath against your heat that made you flinch slightly.

Hoseok sucked at your clit, each whine and moan that he managed to coax from you sending a flood of arousal through his limbs. He could feel you were starting to tremble against his shoulders after a few minutes, softly quaking as you spread your legs wider. He brought one hand down on your knee, gently grazing up your thigh to feel each shiver as you got closer with each shallow and labored breath.

“You doing alright up there, Bambi?” Hoseok chuckled.

“God, if you weren’t doing such a good job I would get up and leave you hard and lonely.” You groaned, stretching out like a cat beneath him as he kissed along your center.

“Cruel woman.”

“Smart ass.”

“You mean smart mouth?” He tilted his head, grinning up at you as he snaked his tongue between your legs.

“You really wanna be snarky when I have my thighs wrapped around your head and could literally choke you out—”

Hoseok slid two fingers past your entrance, turning your words to dust. “I don’t know why you being so mean turns me on so much.” He laughed, shaking his head as he hooked his fingers inside of you.

“Not used to people knocking you down a few rungs, huh?” You were smiling, glancing down at him with hooded eyes.

“No… But I think I kind of like it.” He shrugged.

“Is that so?” You asked, a surprised lilt in your voice. Suddenly you were reaching down, grabbing his jaw roughly angling him towards your center. “Then stop talking and make me cum already.”

He didn’t want to admit that he felt his dick jump against the bed, so instead he did what you asked, because how could he refuse you when you were glaring down at him with such bite in your words. He buried his head in between your thighs, fingers working inside of you, making that fiery mouth go slack in a matter of seconds. You were grinding against his tongue within a minute, one hand coming down on his head, urging him to stay in place.

“Please don’t stop.” Your voice sounded halfway ruined and it had Hoseok growling from the back of his throat.

It was strange, he somehow had two parts of him vying for such polar opposite things. On one hand he loved how you could break him down in a second, demanding in a way that made him want to bow to you like he’d never wanted to for anyone else. But then he had this other part where he wanted you writhing beneath him. Honestly, at this point he didn’t care which one became the more dominant outcome, he’d take whichever one that you’d give him.

He looked up, taking in the way your eyes were screwed shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip. He slid his hand up your stomach until he bumped into your hand. Hoseok didn’t expect it, but you were suddenly interlacing your fingers with his own, your grip getting tighter the closer you got to finishing. It was an intimate act that he wasn’t used to with girls that he’d just met, but somehow it felt nice with you, felt right.

However, when you opened your eyes slightly and realized what you’d done, you started to recede from the entanglement, looking a bit flustered. It confused him for half a second before he was squeezing your hand, silently telling you that he wanted to stay like that. There was a flash of hesitance in your expression before you relaxed into it, turning into a strange moment that wouldn’t be reflected on until much later.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” You whispered, back arching off of the bed.

His ears were ringing at the words, and then suddenly he felt it. The way you tightened around his fingers or the way your stomach tensed up beneath his palm. He worked you through it until your hand softened its grip in his hair. He nuzzled his forehead against your hip, kissing his way up your side and then between the valley of your breasts. Your hands were still interlocked and simply shifted to pin them beside your head as he nosed his way along your jaw until he was finally hovering over you, lips still shining with your arousal.

“Can I kiss you like this?” He asked.

Your brows furrowed. “Like what?”

“I tried kissing a girl once after I ate her out and she almost kneed me in the balls. Said it was weird or some shit. I’m just careful now.”

“Who’re you sleeping with?” You snorted, clearly amused. And then you were lifting your head up, your grin brushing against his mouth. “Plus, I’m way too much of a narcissist to not wanna taste myself.”

He scoffed partly in disbelief, partly in amazement. “You’re like perfect, you know that?”

For a second he saw a genuine smile, nothing sly or cunning, just something pure and sincere. He thought that he definitely wanted to see more of that side of you as he leaned down to close the distance. He parted your lips with his arousal-slick tongue, your hum of approval seeming to reverberate all the way down into his chest. The kiss was slow and deep, the type that felt like you could never get close enough to the person. Your mouths slanted together over and over, leaving you both practically breathless by the time you broke apart because of the way Hoseok’s cock had rutted in between your legs.

“Shit,” He whispered, glancing down at the tent formed at the front of his pants. It was starting to ache at just how hard he was, but he certainly didn’t expect you to suddenly reach down and wrap your hand around the material, leaving him practically choking.

“Wow, you’re really hard.” You marveled, slightly giggling.

“Gentle! It’s a dick not a gear shift.” He gripped around your hand, pulling it into a better position.

You simply laughed before you were forcing Hoseok back by his shoulders until he was laying flat against the bed. You tapped at his hip. “Up, lover boy.”

He didn’t have to be asked again. He pushed the last articles of clothing down his legs, dick so painfully hard as it slapped against his stomach. You bent down, face hovering above his crotch as your tongue lined your lips, and it had his chest buzzing.

“Thought I was too much of a smart ass to get head?” He asked, lifting himself up to rest on his elbows.

“You are, but I’m feeling generous today.”

He hummed. “Lucky me.”

“Yes,” You whispered, mouth curling into a confident smirk. “Lucky you.”

After that Hoseok honestly did try his absolute best not to thrust his cock the rest of the way down your throat when you suddenly slipped him into your mouth. He hissed, hand coming down to rest on top of your head as he watched every inch disappear past your lips. He felt his jaw go slack at the sight of you sinking lower down on his length until your nose was buried into his stomach. He wanted more than anything to just keep watching you take him like that, but the second you gagged around him, making your throat tighten up, he was falling back against the bed with his eyes screwed shut.

He sighed when you pulled off of him, giving him a quick second to breathe before you were swallowing him back down. “F-fuck, baby,” He choked out, and you hummed around his length, the vibrations shooting straight to his spine.

You were relentless, each bob of your head so deep and wet. He managed to eventually push himself back onto his elbows, the sight just too good to be missing out on. His teeth bared down on his bottom lip when he got to see just how sloppy everything had gotten. All of the spit running down his member and pooling on his groin had him bucking off of the bed, urging for it to be even messier. You moaned, and he noticed the way your eyes were starting to water each time his cock would hit the back of your throat. He dropped his hand down to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away any tear that threatened to fall.

Hoseok found himself wanting to cum just like this, his length heavy against your tongue as ropes of white dripped past your mouth and down your chin. Honestly, just the thought alone almost had him finishing. But in the end, he wanted something else even more, and so before his body decided for itself he was pulling you off of him and coming to sit up on his knees.

“Why’d you stop me?” You were breathless, lips spit-slick and swollen.

He circled his arms around your waist, forehead pressed against yours. “Because I have a shit refraction period and you don’t get how badly I wanna fuck you right now.”

Your breath seemed to stutter, eyes searching up and down his face before you were closing the space and kissing him. “Then hurry up and put a condom on already,” You said in between each brush of your lips.

He nodded desperately, breaking away to lean over to his side drawer and pull one out. You sucked at the side of his neck while he ripped the package open and rolled it along his member, and he didn’t even get a second to think before you were pushing him back against the bed and placing your knees on either side of his thighs, your center hovering above him.

You leaned forward, pawing up his chest until you were parting his lips with your tongue. He settled his hands on your waist, nails digging lightly into your skin. He could feel himself bucking a little bit off of the bed, so desperate for any type of friction, but you made sure to keep your body high so he wouldn’t have anything to rut against. He found himself whining a bit at the absence of anything, and you seemed amused by this.

“You’re very impatient.” You giggled over him.

“Says the girl who’s already gotten to cum.” He scoffed.

You opened your mouth to say something, but stopped, tilting your head to the side. “Huh, can’t exactly argue. One point for you.”

“I’ll give you all of my points if you just sit on my dick already,” He said through gritted teeth.

“Hm, tempting.” But you still made no movements towards his lower half.

It seemed that Hoseok would have to take matters into his own hands, and he was not opposed to begging if that was what it would take. Suddenly he was sitting up, back pressed against the headboard as you continued to stare down at him with amusement.

“Please,” He started simply.

“That’s all you got?” You asked, brow quirked with a look of disappointment.

“Could I have the honor of feeling your gorgeous, tight, soaking-wet pussy around my cock, please.”

You lit up a bit at that one. “Ah, better. You’re tapping into my praise kink.” Hoseok noticed the way you dropped a bit lower, like you were rewarding him a little.

“I wanna feel you so bad.” He grabbed your hand, guiding it down to his length. “I’m fucking throbbing because of you. Never been this hard for anyone, ever.”

You lowered yourself a bit more, almost to being eye-level with him. “Just this hard for me?” You asked, pride in your voice as you squeezed your hand around him, feeling the way he pulsed beneath your touch.

“Mhm,” He hummed, sitting up straighter as he pulled you closer, hand coming down to press your hand tighter around him. “Don’t you wanna feel how hard I got just for you? Y/N… Please?” He was a bit breathless, trying to find the right words to convey just how much he wanted you.

You looked at him for one torturous second, like you weren’t going to move an inch, and Hoseok thought that he might just die right on the spot. However, like some sort of miracle you lowered yourself all the way until he felt the tip of his length pressing against your entrance.

“Fuck,” He growled, slamming his hand back..

You both looked at each other through hazy eyes as you started to dip lower. Hoseok’s breath caught in his lungs as he felt himself being engulfed by your sopping heat. Your nails started digging into his shoulders the further you slid down, mouth falling open as your forehead fell against his. When you were finally sitting fully against his groin, you both let out these sighs of relief that you’d been holding in the whole time.

“Oh, god—ngh!” You whined as you started moving up and down his length.

“You good?” He asked, fighting the urge to buck his hips up into you.

You nodded frantically. “Yeah, just don’t know how I feel like I’m already gonna cum again.” You laughed a little as you balanced your hands against the headboard, finding a nice, smooth rhythm.

“Good, cause I’m definitely not gonna last as long as I wanted to.” He grabbed at your hips, pulling you along in your motions until you started kissing him, urging him down on top of you as you fell flat against the bed. You wrapped your legs around him, pressing him deeper inside of you until your back was arching off of the bed and he had you crying out. “There?” He asked.

“Y-yeah, right there—fuck, please.”

You were sighing all of these things right into his ear, his gut twisting with every hitched breath and stutter. He pressed his shoulder into the back of one of your thighs, pushing it higher up so he could thrust even deeper, his hand hooking around so he could rub at your clit. You gasped, hands clawing at the sheets that sat beside your head.

It didn’t take long for him to feel the way you were starting to tighten around him, so close to finishing as you lifted yourself up onto your elbows. With hooded eyes you pulled Hoseok in and he swallowed all of your moans as you slipped your hand in between your bodies, urging him to keep going.

“Gonna cum?” He asked as his hips continued to thrust deep as he felt the build of his own end starting.

“Mhm,” You hummed simply, eyes closed as he fucked you open until you cried out, feet twisting into the covers as your body tensed up underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” You repeated the mantra until he finally felt it, that vice-like grip of you cumming around him, the tightness forcing a growl from the back of his throat.

“Shit,” He hissed, placing his hands on either side of your head. It was so wet, dripping out of your pussy and down his dick, each thrust was so much smoother, going so much deeper.

He felt it come on so fast. From all of the grinding earlier to the way you’d swallowed him down right before all of this, there was no way he could’ve lasted much longer anyways. He came into the condom with a heavy sigh against your neck. His ears were ringing from the high, vision blurry as he lifted himself up, your blissed-out face lying underneath him. He dropped down, placing a line of pecks along your neck until he met your lips.

“I’ll get something to clean up with,” He whispered, placing one last kiss against the bridge of your nose before heading over to his closet to pull out a towel. He pulled the condom off, tossing it into a tiny trashcan he kept in the corner, and then he wiped at his length. When he came back over to the bed he found you rolled over, a small smile on your lips, eyes closed like you were about to have the greatest sleep of your life. “At least let me clean you up a bit.” Hoseok laughed, tapping at your cheek. You hummed, rolling over, spreading your legs slightly. He flipped the towel to the other end, gently wiping away some of the wetness.

“M’good?” You slurred.

“Yup, you’re good. Come on, let’s get you the right way on the bed.” He urged you back towards the direction of the headboard where you were immediately curling into his side.

He thought that was going to be the end of it, that you were just the type to knock straight out afterwards. Not that it bothered him much, considering he was sort of the same. However, when he glanced down at you, you were staring at him, eyes glimmering with something.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, smiling. “Just looking at you.”

“I have a pretty post-coital glow, I know.” He joked.

“Oh my god.” You laughed, yawning a bit in the process.

“You tired?”

You nodded. “Yeah, a little bit.”

“Get some rest then.” Hoseok settled further down in the bed, throwing one arm over your side.

“Alright,” You whispered.

Hoseok expected that you would just close your eyes after that, snuggle a bit closer. Except when he glanced down at you again you were still staring up at him, the same glimmer in your eyes. “What is it? You look like you’re thinking about something.”

You looked up, lips pursing. “Uhm… It’s nothing.” You smiled, but it wasn’t genuine.

“You’re a shit liar.”

You laughed, sighing to yourself. “Yeah, I know.”

Hoseok moved closer, bringing his arm down to hook it around your waist. “So really, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You were quickly shaking your head from side to side. “No, you didn’t do anything. It’s just this other… thing that creeps up on me every once and a while. Usually when I’m happy, which fucking sucks.”

“Thing?” He asked.

You hummed to yourself for a second, like you were contemplating whether or not you wanted to say what you were thinking. “Don’t really like talking about it. Just past relationship stuff that gets me sort of sad and embarrassed.” You paused, throwing your leg over the top of his, twisting them together. “And I’m actually having a pretty good time with you, so don’t wanna ruin it.”

“Just a good time?” Hoseok could see that it wasn’t something that you wanted talk about it, so he quickly tried to change the subject.

“Better grade than most people get.” You chuckled, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Sad, guess I just like your company more than you like mine.” He pouted, earning a smile from you.

You shrugged. “That tends to be my goal.”

“So being liked more?” He asked. “Yeah, I could sort of tell.”

“Ah, you noticed that? Yeah, has to do with… the, uhm, thing again.”

Hoseok thought that maybe he knew what this thing was, but he was going to keep it to himself. Clearly it was something that still weighed heavily on you. But if it was what he thought it was, that guy was the biggest fucking idiot alive.

“Gotcha.” He nodded. “But anyways, not talking about that, right?”

You smiled. “Right.”

“So, what’re you doing tomorrow?” Hoseok asked, and you seemed to relax at the shift in conversation.

“No plans yet. You?”

“My friend might be throwing a party. School’s been kicking my ass and I haven’t been out in a while, so I’ll probably go to that… You wanna come with?” Hoseok asked, already trying to spend more time with you before you’d even left.

“Hm, sounds tempting.” You tilted your head, tapping at your chin. “We’ll see.”

“Alright.” He smiled, glad to at least have a small bit of hope.

You sent him a small smile back before closing your eyes, nuzzling yourself further into his side. Eventually he closed his eyes too, the exhaustion of tonight finally seeming to catch up with him as well. However, when he felt as though he was right on the edge of letting sleep pull him under, he heard a whisper, but he couldn’t tell if it was real or if he was dreaming already.

“Thanks for tonight,” You said, and then there was nothing.

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

When Hoseok opened his eyes the next day, it was to an empty bed. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He pressed his hands against the rivets in the fabric of the sheets that still held your shape. It was cool to the touch, and he thought that was strange.

“…Y/N?” He called out, confusion ringing in his voice as he hoped that maybe you were just in the kitchen or something.

No response came, which could only mean one thing, but he wanted to make sure. He got out of bed, finding his sweatpants on the floor and pulling them up his legs. He searched for the pile of clothes that he’d given you the night before, but as you had promised they were nowhere to be seen. He looked in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, only to get his confirmation that you weren’t here.

When he opened the freezer he found that you’d even put the vodka back in its place. He smiled, but only for a second, because seriously how could you just slip out on him like that? No goodbye? His tongue lined his teeth as he tried to figure out if maybe he had read something wrong. He thought that last night was one of the best that he’d ever spent with someone… But maybe for you it wasn’t the same? He felt this gross, twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach, something that he’d never experienced before.

Suddenly he was searching for his phone, remembering that he’d left it in the living room the night before. He unlocked it, going to the last call that was in his recents before pressing the device to his ear. It rang a few times before a groggy voice on the other side of the line answered.

“Do you know what time it is?” Jimin asked, clearly just waking up.

“Yeah, it’s noon.”

“Exactly.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving onto the real reason that he’d called his friend. “Anyways, I have an issue.”

“Uhm, alright, what is it?”

Hoseok sighed, foot kicking at the side of the couch. “I met this girl last night… and I need to like, I don’t know, talk about it.”

“Wait, you went out last night?” Jimin asked. “During that storm?”

“No, I stayed home.”

“So… how’d you meet a girl?”

“She… She was dancing outside of my window and I invited her inside.” Hoseok paused, knowing how absolutely ridiculous that sounded. “It’s a weird story, so can we just meet up somewhere to talk about it?”

“Wow, I gotta hear about this.” Jimin laughed on the other side of the line. “Wanna go to Denny’s or something? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, I can meet you there in like thirty minutes.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”

The phone call ended, the temporary distraction fading, allowing that strange feeling to worm its way back into his chest. Whatever this was, he didn’t like it. He felt so tangled up, like he was physically sick.

“What the hell?” He said to himself, hand grabbing at his hair as he began making his way back to the bedroom.

However, as he passed the kitchen something caught his eye. The fabric of the curtain hung over the sink, and he realized what an idiot he was for not checking sooner. Hoseok had never ran so fast, hope lacing every drop of blood as it raced towards his heavily beating heart. One hand braced against the counter as he ran into it with full force, the other yanking the curtain to the side.

For one second Hoseok felt elated, because he let himself truly believe that you were going to be there. But as he stared out at the grassy field that was still flooded from last night’s downpour, he felt that indescribable flood of disappointment encapsulate his entire body once more.

You weren’t there.

“Dammit,” Hoseok whispered, leaning to press his forehead against the window. The glass was cool against his skin, a light drizzle still going on outside. It was weird, Hoseok knew that he should hear the constant splashes of the drops hitting the ground, but for some reason everything just seemed so silent.

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

“Wait, so you’re telling me,” Jimin paused, forking a piece of omelet into his mouth. “That this random ass girl was dancing behind your apartment building in the pouring rain, you invited her in and just fucked the night away? Yeah right.”

“It’s true. And we did more than just fuck, asshole. We talked a lot.” Hoseok dropped his head, hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually really liked her.”

“Oh shit, you really are telling the truth.” Jimin sat back against the booth. “You look like a sad puppy.”

“Fuck off.”

Jimin raised both of his hands in defense from across the booth. “I see getting laid hasn’t helped to lessen your attitude.”

Hoseok sighed, leaning both elbows on the table, rubbing at his temples. “I’m sorry. I just had a really good time with her, so I just don’t get…”

“Why she dipped out on you?” Jimin finished.

“Yeah.” Hoseok nodded. “I just… I just thought we had such a good time. Like we really clicked.”

“I mean I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, but maybe that was only on your part.” He tried shooting Hoseok an apologetic look.

“I… I don’t think that was it either.”

Or at least he very much hoped so. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it a few times on the drive over. That maybe you hadn’t been as into him as he was with you. That maybe you were just that charismatic with everyone, and he was just like anyone else to you. The idea felt like a punch to the gut.

“I mean it’s not like you’ve never done it.” Jimin shrugged.

Hoseok was immediately shaking his head. “I’ve never snuck out on someone.”

“But you have hooked up with people that you have no actual interest dating or even hanging out with past that one time. Maybe that’s just what you were for her.”

“But…” Each word felt like a jagged-edged stab straight to his chest. “But I feel like I’m always pretty forward about my intentions.”

“So did you tell her that you liked her last night?”

“Well, no—”

“—That doesn’t sound very forward to me.” Jimin chuckled.

“Because I’d just met her!” Hoseok threw his hands in the air, wishing that he could just project last night into Jimin’s head so he could understand that there was in fact something between the two of you… Or at least he thought there was. “Plus I thought I was gonna get her number so we could hang out some more. Test the waters. See if we mesh well together in a context that wasn’t stuck in a house with no electricity during a fucking hurricane.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Jimin started, seeming to finally realize how serious Hoseok was about this, about you.

“So what do I do?” Hoseok asked.

“I mean there’s really nothing you can do. You said she goes to school with us. Maybe you’ll get lucky, just run into her around campus.”

“But even if I did see her, I feel like I shouldn’t go up to her. I mean she left without saying bye for a reason, right?”

Jimin made a face that said, yeah that sounds about right. “Well, I’m assuming you didn’t call me to hear something really depressing like that… but I mean, you aren’t wrong.”

Hoseok grumbled to himself, laying his forehead down on the table. “I don’t know why I called you. You’ve been giving me the worst-case scenario this whole time.”

“Hey, I’m just being honest. Call Tae next time if you want someone who’s gonna try and make you feel better by just telling you what you wanna hear.”

He turned his head to the side, lips pouting as he glanced up at Jimin. “Sort of would like to hear that right now, even if it was a lie. That she did like me at least a little bit. That I wasn’t just a dick to ride, you know?”

“Wow.” Jimin said, looking genuinely surprised. “She really got your ass.”

Hoseok smiled, lifting his head up to rest it against his hand. “Yeah, she really did.”

“I’m sorry, man. But hey, maybe you can distract yourself tonight. Namjoon texted me back yesterday about throwing a party. He said he’s cool with it.”

Hoseok knows that he was the one who asked Jimin about going out tonight, but that was before he had all of this shit on his mind. “Uhm…”

“Hell no.” Jimin crossed his arms over his chest, mouth pressed into a firm line. “You’re going. You haven’t been out in forever.”

“I know, but this whole thing has really fucked with my mood. I won’t be any fun.”

“You just got your ego bent a little bit. Come on, everyone’s always asking where you’re at. It’ll be fun.”

Hoseok narrowed his eyes. “You just want me to go so bad so I can be your wingman for Sana.”

Jimin pursed his lips, but he couldn’t stop the guilty smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, while that would be a plus of you going, I do actually want you to come out and have a good time… So, please?”

He smacked his lips, sighing in defeat. “Fine, I’ll come.”

Jimin threw his hands up in a praying motion. “Thanks, dude.”

“Mhm,” He hummed simply in response, mind already running wild again.

He had so many questions for you. Why’d you sneak out on him? Not even a goodbye? Did he just imagine that they’d both clicked as well as he’d thought? Maybe Jimin was right, maybe he just got his ego banged up, but he couldn’t help but think it was something more than that.

“Really does suck, huh?” Jimin asked after about a minute of letting Hoseok contemplate.

“Which part?” He laughed.

Jimin let his head fall back against the booth, this sad sort of grin playing out on his lips. “Being the one that feels more.”

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

The moment Hoseok walked through the door to Namjoon’s house that night, he was immediately glad that he let Jimin convince him on still coming. He missed this atmosphere, so much so that he’d sort of forgotten how relaxing it was. Though he knew how weird it was to use a word such a ‘relaxing’ to describe the current setting that was in front of him. The house was completely packed with people, floors already sticky with spilled drinks and the vibrations of the loud music playing from the speakers in the living room were halfway disorienting… But again, he felt relaxed somehow. Maybe it was just all of the stress from his life finally letting loose so he could enjoy himself.

“Let’s get a drink,” Jimin said, motioning towards the kitchen.

Hoseok nodded, weaving through the crowd of people until they made it to the island that held an assortment of hard liquors and cups. He was looking through the bottles, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted. Not tequila, not rum and most certainly not fucking fireball. In the end he decided on vodka, simple, not wanting to get too terribly messed up tonight. However, as he was looking through them he stumbled upon a particular brand that made him smile. It was Pinnacle, and Hoseok could only fondly think about how you would react if you had been there with him. At that he felt the light pang that he’d been feeling all day whenever he’d think about you, so he quickly tried to move on, browsing for a brand that tasted a little less like actual poison. However, as he settled on a bottle that was nearly empty, an arm was being thrown around his shoulders.

“Oh, look who decided to show his face,” Namjoon said, a slight slur in his words.

Hoseok chuckled, finding his way out from underneath his friend’s drunken grip. “I’ve been busy. Can’t go out all the time like I used to.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Namjoon grabbed a plastic cup from the table that he then filled with alcohol from a bottle that he’d already been holding. “Well, at least you came out tonight.” Namjoon gave the cup to Hoseok, now filled with a very expensive brand that would get him royally fucked up if he wasn’t careful.

“You’re just giving that out? Shit’s expensive.”

“Hell no.” Namjoon practically cradled the bottle to his chest, like it was an infant. “For friend’s only.”

“Alright, friend.” Jimin was suddenly sliding into the conversation, cup raised high. “Fill her up.”

“You could at least ask nicely,” Namjoon grumbled, but still tipping some into Jimin’s cup anyway.

“You didn’t ask nicely when you ate half of my goddamn pantry last weekend when you got the munchies from fucking hell.”

Namjoon scoffed. “I bought you Taco Bell the next day to make up for it.”

“It was a quesadilla that cost three dollars.”

“And who just poured a sixty-dollar alcohol into your cup? Makes us even.”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Hoseok laughed, shaking his head at the back and forth as he brought the cup to his lips. “And you say I’ve got an attitude.”

“Okay, I’m admittedly stingy when it comes to food.”

“No kidding?” Hoseok said sarcastically, remembering how Jimin wouldn’t even let him have a bite of his omelet from earlier. But still, in every way other than sharing food, Jimin was a good friend. The type that told you how it was, even if it wasn’t necessarily the thing that wanted to hear.

“Anyways,” Jimin started, pushing the conversation into a different direction. “Have you seen Tae yet?”

“Yeah, saw him chilling in the living room earlier.” Namjoon motioned towards the room.

“Alright, well that’s where I’ll be if you guys wanna talk about things other than my frugal food habits.”

“So sensitive,” Namjoon laughed, throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder as he followed him into the living room.

Hoseok simply smiled, choosing to stay behind to find something to mix his drink with. He went over to the fridge, searching past the various containers of takeout until he managed to find some Sprite sitting in the back. He pulled it out, setting it on the counter to get ready to pour it into his drink, when suddenly he felt a soft hand down come over his eyes, concealing his vison.

“Guess who?” The feminine voice said, one that was immediately recognizable.

“Uhm, the girl who busted her ass at dance practice yesterday?”

Hoseok started cracking up as Sana dropped her hand away, allowing him to spin around and face her. Her eyes were narrowed, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”

“And so are you,” He said as he brought her in for a hug.

Sana relaxed into the embrace, the edges of her smile having returned by the time she pulled back. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“You literally spiked my birthday cake with hot sauce last year—I’m definitely right.”

You both laughed, though he could still taste the disgusting concoction from so many months ago lingering in the back of his throat. Though maybe he deserved it for replacing all of your shampoos and conditioners with chocolate syrup, but there had definitely been something to prompt that… Which he just couldn’t remember the specifics of due to the fact that this prank war had been going on since Sana had moved right next door to Hoseok when they were six.

“Anyways,” She started, in the exact same way that Jimin did when he wanted to move the conversation along. It amused Hoseok considering the conversation he was going to have with Sana later on about him. “You didn’t tell me that you were coming out tonight. Surprised that you even did.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.” He sighed, sipping at his drink.

“Maybe that’s a sign that you shouldn’t be over-working yourself so much.”

“I’m not overworking myself, just staying on top of my main responsibilities.”

Sana grimaced. “When did you get so… adult?”

Hoseok chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“High school Hoseok would’ve had a stroke hearing you say that.”

“He would’ve busted an aneurysm hearing me say that.”

The two of them laughed, reminiscing on those times when things were much less stressful than what they were now.

“But how’ve you been lately?” Sana asked, hopping up to sit on the counter. “I’ve barely gotten to talk to you. Always running out right after practice or too tired from work to hang out.”

“Well, if you had asked me before yesterday I would’ve said, nothing new.” It looked like it was time to rehash his time with you once again. Maybe Sana could give him a perspective that Jimin lacked, but maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.

“Sounds serious. What happened?”

“Uhm, I met a girl.”

Her eyes widened, interest so clearly piqued. She was scooting closer to where he was leaning against the counter. “Okay, you met a girl… and?”

Hoseok wasn’t sure of how much detail he was going to go into. Not that he minded telling Sana details of his sex or dating life. They’d been best friends for as long as he could remember, so nothing was really private between them. They did try to go down the romantic route once in high school, but that was mostly due to the pressures of classmates buzzing about how they couldn’t possibly just be friends, so they decided to try it out. However, they thought it was incredibly awkward and almost immediately vowed to never do anything of that nature ever again unless it was under dire circumstances. Dire circumstances like Sana needing a fake boyfriend for two minutes to shut down a guy that she wasn’t interested in or like Hoseok needing a brief kiss to get a clingy hook-up off his back. They both knew that they should probably work on being more forward with people, regardless of whether or not it would hurt their feelings, but hey, maybe that disposition was why they were such good friends.

But even with all of this, he was hesitant to tell her everything in that moment because it seemed that when he’d told Jimin all of the dramatics, such as the rain, dancing, power outages and whatever else, it served to distract him from the more general questions that Hoseok had, so for now he was going to just stick to the basics.

“Yeah, so we hung out for a bit at my place. We ended up sleeping together.”

“Good?” Sana asked, referring to the sex.

Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh, because how could he possibly put into words just how good it was. He decided to use one of her past sexual encounters as a reference point, so she could really get it. “So remember how you described Taeyong to me?”

Her mouth dropped, eyes going wide. “That good!?”

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah, that good.”

“Okay, what else?” She asked, such excitement for him beginning to gleam off of her eyes.

“Like we talked so much that night. Her personality, the way she speaks, it’s so… I don’t know. I’ve just never met someone like her before. It was… great.” He was saying these things, but he couldn’t help the way his mouth fell into a downward quirk.

“Well, if it was so great why do you look so sad?”

“Because I guess it wasn’t as great as I thought.” Hoseok sighed, throwing his head back, teeth running along the inside of his cheek as the fluorescents of the kitchen lights flashed down at his eyes. “She snuck out on me this morning before I woke up.”

“What, why?” Sana asked, brows furrowed. “Sounded like you guys had a good time though?”

“I thought we did too… but then she just dipped. I don’t know what happened.”

“Well, just text her. Maybe she was into you but had to go and didn’t wanna bother you.”

Hoseok scratched at the side of his head, regret seeping off of him in waves. “Uhm, yeah, about that… I kind of didn’t get her number.”

Sana gave him this look like he was the biggest idiot in the world, and honestly he really felt like he was. “What the hell? Why not?”

“I know, I know, I fucked up.” He groaned, burying his face into his hands. “I was gonna ask for it when she left, but I obviously didn’t get the chance.”

Sana’s expression softened a bit at this as she placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Aw, I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t get it.” He shrugged. “Have you ever snuck out on someone?”

“Uhm…” She shot him an apologetic grin. “Yeah, like once or twice.”

He shook his head. “Evil.”

“Hey, I had no interest. Didn’t see the point in staying.”

“Yeah, guess I was just reading into things.” There was a pang in his stomach. He could probably assume that you’d felt something similar to Sana, and he wasn’t going to lie, it really hurt.

“I’m sure that’s not it. You sound like you genuinely liked her, and I know you. I know you wouldn’t be talking about it like this unless there’d been something there.”

Hoseok smiled at the small glimmer of hope. “Thanks, you’re way more optimistic than Jimin.”

“Wait, you told Jimin before me?” Suddenly she was hopping off of the counter, hands crossed over her chest. “What kind of best friend?”

“He was just the last person on my call list. But speaking of Jimin, what do you think about him?” Hoseok was kind of tired of talking about his own problems, and since they were already talking about Jimin, it seemed like the perfect time to facilitate this hopefully non-catastrophic interest between his two closest friends.

“Jimin? I mean, he’s fun to hang around.”

“Do you find him attractive?”

Sana scoffed. “Who doesn’t?”

“Well, I know I’m supposed to be more low-key with this, but since you’re my best friend,” Hoseok paused, emphasizing the phrase to answer her question from earlier. Thankfully she smiled, even turning away to blush slightly. “I’ll be up-front. Jimin really wants to go out on a date with you.”

Her eyes lit up slightly, mouth parting. “Really?”

“Yeah, he thinks you’re really cute and funny—no clue why that is.” Sana lightly smacked him across the chest, making him laugh. “So yeah, if you’re interested he’s somewhere around here.”

“But why couldn’t he just tell me that himself?” She asked, joining him to lean against the counter. “We talk all the time. It’s not like we’re strangers.”

“He didn’t wanna fuck it up. He doesn’t just want a hook-up—though I’m sure he wouldn’t be against it if that’s all you wanted.”

“I mean I definitely wouldn’t be against it.” She turned her head, looking into the living room where she seemed to already be searching for a mop of jet-black hair in the distance.

“But is that all you’d want? Just sex?” Hoseok asked, the idea of only being able to sleep with a person that you genuinely liked in a possible relationship sort of way seeming like it would do more damage in the long run. Not that he had never developed a strictly sexual relationship with someone whose company that he thoroughly enjoyed, but still he had never felt that drive to be anything more than simply friends.

“I mean I’ve always thought that we clicked really well, but I just figured he’d never try anything since you guys are so close. Plus, I didn’t wanna do something and make things awkward between the two of you.”

“Trust me, we had extensive conversations about his intentions. If he just wanted to fuck then I wouldn’t even be talking to you about it. That kind of stuff is all on him, but I thought I’d help out since he’s genuinely interested in more than that—well, as long as you are too, obviously.”

Sana nodded, still looking towards the living room. Hoseok was amused by how much you were already itching to go find Jimin. He sincerely hoped that it worked out between the two of them. Not just because it would cause an extreme amount of awkwardness if it didn’t, but because he wanted them to be happy.

“Go get him.” He chuckled, ushering her towards the living room. “You’re like drooling already.”

“Fuck off,” She said, but still while continuing on the path that he’d set her on.

“Remember condoms,” He called out when she was close to entering the living room. He smiled when she simply flicked him off before turning around to make her way towards the new object of her desires, purpose in her step.

However, after that it was sort of instantaneous, the way his smile slipped from his mouth once Sana was gone, effectively leaving him with no distractions for the first time since meeting up with Jimin earlier that day. It was weird, being surrounded by so many people and feeling this… numbness? It was something he’d never really experienced before, because like he said he loved the atmosphere of parties and just getting to hang out with everyone, but for some reason he felt uneasy.

That uneasiness didn’t stop for the entire night. Not even when he rejoined his friends, he and Namjoon watching with amusement as Jimin and Sana cozied up in a corner. Hoseok just couldn’t shake it, this strange and constant feeling of searching every face only for the pang of disappointment to immediately follow.

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

Sweat dripped down Hoseok’s temple, each breath heavy as he moved with the beat. His reflection stared back at him, each twist and turn urging him on, like the mirror was daring him to go harder. He pushed, vying for that sense of being lost within himself, only raw intuition guiding him through. He didn’t think or anticipate, he just felt it ravaging inside of his blood.

The music playing from the practice room speakers was halfway deafening, but he welcomed that feeling of being engulfed by the flow of a song. It was like the vibrations tore through the ground beneath his feet and surged up his body with all of its demand and expectation. For months Hoseok hadn’t been able to do this, to simply dance like it was second nature. However, four days ago, through what seemed like divine intervention draped in rain and wind, he found that feeling again.

It’d been four days since the storm that knocked out electricity for half of the city hit. It’d been four days since he’d last seen you. It’d been four days since he’d been left so completely… confused? But even though Hoseok found himself wondering with a slight pang in his chest about what happened to make you leave without saying a word to him, he also found himself constantly replaying the moment that he’d first seen you dancing inside of his head.

It was cheesy to say, but Hoseok knew the reason that he’d found his step again was because of you. Getting to watch someone lose themselves like that, it really put things into perspective for him. Nothing, not the rain nor the way your feet had sat ankle deep in that flood of water stopped you that day. You ignored it, somehow pushing through all of the obstacles that surrounded you until it was just you and the music sifting through your headphones.

Hoseok knew that was where he’d lost himself. Months ago he had become so focused on the things surrounding him that when he went to go dance he just felt paralyzed by the weight of everything else in his life. He didn’t understand that he could throw those things away, even if just for a moment, go missing inside of his head, inside of his body, for as long as a song could last. And so, regardless of the fact that maybe you had only been interested in him for the night, he still hoped to see you just one more time, so he could at least thank you for getting him through the fog that’d been clouding his head for so long.

In the background of the dance studio, Hoseok sensed the end of the song coming. He felt the swell in his lungs, baited breaths clamoring so violently past his lips as it merged with the air around him. And with one last move, his foot came down against the ground with an echoing stomp as the final beat played through the speakers. The music cut, leaving only silence except for the slight buzz that began to ring inside of his ears.

Hoseok smiled, dropping down to lay flat against the floor with a triumphant yell that came from deep within his bones. He was completely drenched in sweat, but it felt like pride sticking to his skin. He thought he could’ve marveled in that afterglow forever, just lying there in the quietness but with this indescribable fire still lingering in the air around him. However, as he laid there, eyes closed and chest heaving, the sudden sound of a slow clap coming from within the room shattered the walls he’d managed to build around himself for that one song.

“Someone’s got their mojo back,” The person said, though Hoseok recognized the voice before he was even turned over on his stomach to fully see them.

“Finally, right?” Hoseok sighed, still breathless as Jimin walked over, handing him a water bottle. He mumbled a quick thanks before unscrewing the cap and tipping it back to let some of the water splash against his face.

“You good?” Jimin asked as he joined Hoseok on the floor.

“Yeah, just haven’t gone that hard in a while.” He sat up, taking an actual sip from the bottle this time. “I’ve basically just been going through the motions the past few months to be honest.”

“Trust me, everyone could clearly see that.” Jimin laughed when Hoseok gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “So, what? This mystery girl from what sounds like a mildly descent porn plot was all you needed to get back in it?”

Hoseok chuckled. “Yup, that sounds about right.”

“Damn, wish I could’ve met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighed, taking the rest of the water and pouring it down the back of his neck.

“Hey, don’t get too upset about it.” Jimin brought his hand down on Hoseok’s shoulder in a comforting gesture but immediately recoiled at the amount of sweat. “Dude, go take a shower.”

“Was already planning on it.” Hoseok stood up, already making his way towards the door because admittedly he was feeling pretty gross right now.

Jimin followed behind him as they made their way out of the practice room and towards the men’s showers. “Oh, by the way are you busy on Friday?”

Hoseok quickly thought through his schedule. “Uhm, no actually. I don’t have anything.”

“Cool, you should come to this festival thing with me and Sana then.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” Hoseok asked, slipping his shirt off. He’d been busy the past few days, so he hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to either of them to see how things had went the night of the party.

Jimin’s face immediately lit up. “It’s been going really great, actually. We went out yesterday.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you guys.” He was glad that he could help out, even if they really didn’t need his help in the first place considering that they were already interested in one another. “But you said a festival?”

“Yeah, you should come.”

“Alright, could be fun,” He said with a simple shrug.

“Cool, well I’ll let you shower in peace then. Talk to you later,” Jimin called out over his shoulder as he headed back towards the exit.

“Yeah, see you.”

After that Hoseok quickly finished stripping off the rest of his clothes before throwing them into his locker and slipping into an empty stall. He twisted the knob to turn the shower on and then stuck his hand out to wait for the water to turn warm. Once it felt bearable he stepped beneath the stream, letting out a sigh as the heat engulfed his body. He felt so drained but in the way that you did after you accomplished something that was physically taxing. He dropped his head, letting the water soak through the strands of his hair.

Hoseok found himself staring at the constant barrage of water droplets falling all around him, and before he knew it he was closing his eyes, smiling at the way it rained down along his skin.

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

Hoseok was mid-dream involving something about sea monsters when his false reality was shattered by a series of relentless knocks coming against his front door. His eyes fluttered open, body sore as he sat up from his couch. He really needed to stop falling asleep there.

“What the hell?” He mumbled to himself, voice rough from sleep. He made his way towards the noise, giving a quick glance through the peep hole to see who the hell thought they could just bang on his door like that, though when he saw that it was Sana and Jimin he realized that he should’ve just known.

“Ready, bud?” Jimin asked, arm around Sana’s waist as he stared up at Hoseok with an innocent smile.

“Seriously?” Hoseok murmured, still halfway asleep.

“Yes, seriously.” Suddenly Sana was pushing Hoseok towards his bedroom. “You said you’d come to the festival with us. We’re gonna be late. Get changed.”

“Do I have to?” He whined, even though he knew it was a pointless question. He really had wanted to go a few days ago when Jimin asked, but he just wasn’t a happy person when he first woke up, but especially after naps that were cut too short.

“Yes,” Sana said simply, digging through Hoseok’s drawers to find him an outfit since she already knew where everything was, and also because he wasn’t in the right state of mind to do anything other than stand there while his brain tried to catch up with his body. “You’ll thank us for making you go once you’re awake. It’ll be fun.” She smiled, handing a few articles of clothing to him.

“Fine,” He grumbled as he started to change. “Can we at least go to Dunkin’ or something? I want coffee.”

“Yeah, because I don’t wanna hear you complain all night.” Jimin mumbled.

“Whatever, I’ll be ready in a second.” Hoseok buttoned his jeans before heading to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and get rid of his sleep breath. He looked at himself in the mirror, eyes puffy and tired. He splashed some water onto his face to try and get a little bit of life into his skin. He patted his face dry with a nearby towel before he was heading back towards his room. “Okay, I’m done—wait, what the?” Hoseok paused for a split-second, his mind short-circuiting at the sight of Sana and Jimin in an intense lip-lock at the end of his bed. “Oh, hell fucking no!”

Quickly they broke apart, guilty smiles lining their now swollen mouths. “Sorry…”

“Seriously, I’m happy for you guys, but no fucking on my bed, got it?”

Sana laughed, clearly amused. “It was just kissing.”

“Yeah, say that Jimin’s boner.” Hoseok pointed towards the very clear tent in his friend’s pants.

“Anyways,” Jimin started, reaching down to flip his hard-on into his waistband while he waited for it to settle down. “How about we get going, yeah?”

“Yes, let’s do that.” Hoseok stood by the doorway, motioning for them to go first.

“You’re no fun.” Sana pouted as she walked into the living room, pulling Jimin behind her.

“Yeah, yeah, keep it moving, sex fiends.” And eventually after much prodding the three of them made it through the front door.

“Shit, hope it doesn’t rain,” Jimin said as they made their way towards his car.

“Me too.” Sana agreed.

Hoseok glanced up to see what they were looking at, only to find a stormy gray patch of sky settled in the distance. “Yeah… uhm, hopefully.”

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

It turned out that the festival was a sort of an all-in-one thing. Singing, dancing, pop-up galleries and a number of other things. It was pretty cool, having something for every type of interest. Sana was mildly into art, so that was where they’d ended up going first.

They went through several set-ups, admiring each piece that they came across. Hoseok decided that he liked the watercolor paintings the most. He didn’t know why specifically, he just liked the seamless, flowing effect that a lot of them had. But unfortunately they had to be quick in their browsing since a lot of the artists and sellers were afraid that the rain would come on suddenly, so a lot of things were already being packed up by the time they got there. Because of this the three of them ended up at a photography exhibit close by, hundreds and hundreds of photos surrounding them.

“This is so cool.” Jimin smiled, walking from picture to picture, such intrigue as he stopped to study each one.

“It really is,” Hoseok said as he broke away to wander a bit ahead of his friends, just to see if anything would catch his eye. He found that he enjoyed the woodsy type of pictures the most. He liked a lot of them, but there was just something about that scene in particular that resonated with his own personal tastes.

Many of the images in that natured-vein were stills of meadows or clearings. Some of them were taken during the day, but most seemed to be at dusk or maybe it was even dawn. He couldn’t be sure of which one it was, but he also thought that it didn’t really matter. He just liked seeing how the sun filtered in through the trees, shining different patterns on the ground and along the flowers.

Hoseok continued on, hands stuffed in his pockets as he passed photo after photo. He was almost to the end of the gallery when he thought he’d better go back and walk with Sana and Jimin but as soon as he was about to turn around something suddenly caught his attention.

His head tilted to the side as he got closer to it. One picture surrounded by a sea of pictures, and yet he found that it pulled him in more than any of the others. It was a photo of a girl, again in the woods, but she was shrouded in this thick, murky fog. It seemed like a scary place to be, with this very ominous feeling as the trees towered high and looming while the mist encased her. However, for some reason as Hoseok stared at the image that was so hazy and bleak, he felt that it was also sort of peaceful in some ways. It conveyed this sense of loneliness or perhaps uninterrupted refection was a better way of putting it.

It was weird, he stood there, the feeling of being unable to move paralyzing him in place. And he thought that was strange because it wasn’t a particularly complicated photo. It wasn’t crowded or with various levels that made you really have to look in order to see it. No, it was beautiful in that very simple, up-front kind of way, and yet even after several minutes of getting to stare at it, he still didn’t want to leave. However, he was eventually forced to once Sana and Jimin appeared by his side.

“You ready?” Sana asked, tapping his shoulder. “There’s this dance thing I wanna go watch. It starts soon.”

“Uhm, yeah, let’s go,” Hoseok said, even though he wasn’t necessarily ready to leave yet, but as he did he couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder to take one final glance at the girl wrapped in fog.

They headed towards the other side of the festival, stopping at a food vendor to get something to eat along the way. It hadn’t started to rain yet, but the sky was getting cloudier and cloudier as time passed. He hoped that it held out for a bit longer. He didn’t want the performances to get cancelled.

It took them a while to actually get to the section where all of the dance performances were going on since there were so many things to get distracted by along the way. Jimin spent twenty bucks and half an hour trying to win Sana a bear at that rigged basketball game they have at carnivals, which didn’t pan out. After that they got caught in the middle of a car show, which lasted for about fifteen minutes. Because of this they ended up missing the first two performers by the time they finally made it to the venue. The three of them nudged their way through the crowd until they found some open seats.

“I’m so mad that we missed the opening.” Sana pouted.

“Date someone with better aim,” Hoseok joked, tossing some popcorn into his mouth. “He’s gonna miss that cum-shot to your back one day. That’s how people end up pregnant.”

“Excuse me, there are children here!” Someone suddenly yelled, making them all burst into laughter as they slipped further down into their chairs.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Sana giggled, swatting him playfully against the chest.

Jimin leaned across her, snatching the bag of popcorn from Hoseok’s hands. “I have way better aim than you. I’ve heard stories, my friend.”

“What? From who!?” Hoseok whispered, also leaning closer. “It was Joy wasn’t it—"

“—Stop gossiping! It’s starting,” Sana scolded, her hand suddenly coming down over Hoseok and Jimin’s mouths, forcing them back into their seats.

They listened to her, turning their focus towards the next performance that was about to start. It was a young boy coming out onto the stage, maybe a high school student. He took his place in the center of the stage, and a spotlight came down on him. Hoseok glanced upwards, looking at all of the tech and equipment that hung over the stage. He didn’t notice anything too different from your normal set-up. However, when his eyes did adjust a bit he was able to make out these strange box-like things that were hanging alongside the lighting system. Maybe he would’ve given them a longer look, but the music finally kicked in, drawing his attention back to the boy and his performance.

It was a slow, contemporary number. He was just one person, but the boy used every inch of space on that stage as he conveyed the story through his choreography and emotions. There were lots of ups and downs, points where Hoseok would catch himself smiling only to have it taken away by the dip in atmosphere created by his movements and the song working together as one. The performance closed out with a deep blue light covering the entirety of the stage before it cut out, leaving the stage shrouded in shadows. Everyone in the audience clapped, and not a beat was missed before a new person was coming out to take their place on stage.

The next few performances were ballet-styled dances. They went one after another, very elegant and poised in their routine. Some were adults, others were small children. Once those were done a hip-hop routine followed. It was fun to watch, really high energy. Several acts went after that. Hoseok wasn’t sure how many performances were slated, though it could’ve been hundreds more and he would’ve been content with that. Getting to watch people in their element like this, it was an amazing sight to endure. They continued on, performance after performance, genre after genre, talent after talent.

Hoseok leaned forward in his seat, back starting to ache a little from sitting for long. He was stretching when the lights dimmed again, and he could see the vague shape of another act making their way across the stage. It was one person, they stood directly in the center. He was waiting for the music to kick in, however, while they waited in silence something started to move overhead. He looked up, noticing that it was the weird boxes that he’d picked up on earlier. They were starting to move, and he was kind of concerned that it was a malfunction of sorts and that maybe they were about to break off or something.

“Hey, do you think that’s alright—” Hoseok started to whisper to Sana, but he didn’t get to finish, because suddenly the strange boxes began to tilt forward, and he thought that maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him since he didn’t think that this could actually be happening. Water began to sprinkle down on the stage in this showering effect from the dozens of boxes, the entire audience captured mid-gasp.

The sound of the water splashing against the stage in its continuous downfall had Hoseok’s breath hitching in his throat. It sounded like a storm was ringing inside of his ears, each drop that fell against the floor amplified somehow. He didn’t know why it felt so compelling, nothing had even happened yet. It was just water on a stage, it was just—

Suddenly everything was flooded in lights, a pale green illuminating the stage, and a shockwave wrapping directing around Hoseok’s heart. He thought for a moment that he was simply crazy. That the girl in front of him right now, covered in makeshift rain and spotlights couldn’t possibly be who he thought it was. It was just his head playing tricks on him, it had to be. Because there was no way that it was really…

It couldn’t be the same person turning that stage into their own little world, just like you’d done to that grassy field behind his apartment. It couldn’t be the same person cutting through that downpour of water like it was nothing, just like you had. It seriously just couldn’t be. And yet, once again here he was, feeling that inexplicable shift in his lungs that he’d only ever experienced while watching you.

His chest felt tight at he saw the same routine that he’d seen you doing through his window exactly one week ago. Only this time it was more than that. The music, the lights, the water, everything happening all at once including his acceptance that this wasn’t in fact a cruel joke, but that the person before him was actually you.

Hoseok was sure that he looked comical right now. Mouth hung open in disbelief, eyes wide and mesmerized, hands shaking in his lap. Though lucky for him everyone was so transfixed on your performance that they didn’t even notice the sudden change, not that he could blame them of course.

He thought that the performance was so short, yet so long at the same time. On one hand he felt as though he could watch you dance forever, so divine in the way that you could cast your way inside of his blood, even from a distance. But he also felt like he could hear each individual drop of water, see each splash that popped off of the stage every time your feet hit the ground. It was like he could feel everything through you, so when the music cut and the lights shut off it almost felt numbing.

“Oh my god, that was amazing,” Jimin said.

“I know, it was so—” Sana began, but stopped when Hoseok shot out of his seat next to her and started making his way back down the aisle of chairs. “What the hell? Hoseok, where’re you going?” She called out to him.

“I’ll explain later,” He called back over his shoulder.

Honestly, Hoseok didn’t even know where he was going or where he should go, but he ended up towards the back of the stage that had blockades set-up around it. There were so many people back here, dancers, crew workers, and everyone was just blending together to form a massive crowd. He felt his heart sink, like he was about to lose this moment. Though he really didn’t know what he was even trying to gain from getting to talk to you again.

“Please, please, please,” He whispered to himself, just hoping that he wouldn’t miss you. Though he did begin to suspect that after a bit more time started to pass.

He felt this shriveling feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he’d really just let you slip through his fingers. The same pang of disappointment that he’d felt when he woke up that day with you not beside him started to buzz painfully inside of his chest. It felt almost unbearable as the minutes began to tick by, you still nowhere in sight. He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He thought about going back to find Jimin and Sana. He’d felt his phone vibrate a few times in his pocket, which was probably them asking why he’d ran off like that. He almost went to go reach for it when his name was suddenly being called out, so familiar and warm.

“Hoseok?”

He looked up, heart beat already kicking violently in his chest at just the sound of your voice. His hands tensed around the railing of the barricade, body feeling as though it could crumble just from being this close to you again.

“I—Y/N—hey.” His thoughts were so disjointed, not even sure of what he should say.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” You made your way over to the railing, and Hoseok sighed in relief when you began to smile at him.

“Yeah, uhm, me either,” He said, trying to calm down so he wasn’t such a stuttering mess. “I didn’t know this was the thing you were talking about performing at.”

“You saw the performance? Did you like it?” You asked, leaning on top of the railing with him.

“Obviously,” He smiled, finally getting to a place where he felt like he could actually breathe while speaking to you. “Didn’t I make it clear how much I liked your dancing the other night.”

“Are you talking about the dancing I was doing while sitting on your lap or…” You trailed off, wiggling your brows at him.

Hoseok laughed. “Can’t I appreciate both?”

You seemed to ponder the answer for a second with your head tilted to the side. “Alright, I’ll accept it.”

“Seriously though, you did great tonight. I’m really glad that I got to see it.”

“Thanks.” You turned away slightly, trying to hide the small grin staining your lips. “Hey, there’s a bench. Wanna go talk over there?” You pointed to a wooden bench that sat a few feet away. “My feet are killing me from all the practicing this week.”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged, watching as you lifted yourself up and hopped over the railing. The two of you made you way over there, both straddling the same side of the bench, knees almost touching.

“So how’ve you been” You asked, leaning one elbow on the table to prop your head up.

“Uhm,” Constantly thinking about how you dipped out on me without a word when I thought we had a really nice time the other night. “Nothing much.”

“Same.” You nodded, but he noticed the way you were biting at the inside of your cheek. “Just practicing for this.”

“Ah, well it paid off.” He smiled, but he could feel that it was sort of stiff. Now that they were past the simple catching up stuff, the real questions that Hoseok wanted to ask were starting to bubble beneath the surface.

You seemed to be able to tell, your eyes narrowed at him. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am I?” He asked, already knowing that he was.

You nodded. “Yeah, like my Jeffrey-Dahmer-glasses-wearing-ex-hook-up weird.”

“What the hell?” Hoseok scoffed. “How could you compare me to him? I’m for real mildly offended.”

You laughed, pressing at the top of one of his thighs. “Alright, then stop being so secretive and spill already. We’ve only been talking for like five minutes and I can tell something’s up.”

Hoseok sighed, dropping his head as he scratched at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, I feel kind of dumb wanting to ask this. Plus, I don’t wanna make you feel awkward.”

You tapped the bottom of his chin, forcing him to look at you again. “Come on just say it.”

“I mean,” He paused, pursing his lips as his nails started to scratch nervously at the wood of the bench. “I guess… I was just curious on why you left the other day without saying anything.”

He watched the way your teeth came down on your bottom lip. “Yeah… figured that’d be it.”

“Seriously I don’t wanna make it awkward. You just weren’t feeling it the way I was. That’s fine.” He tried to just shrug it off so maybe they could talk about something else, but suddenly you were giving him this confused look.

“Wait, you think I left because I didn’t like you?” You asked, laughing like you were in disbelief.

“I mean, not that you didn’t like me, just that you were only interested for the night.” He tried to explain. “Which I get, I mean I’ve done that too—”

“—Hoseok,” You started, cutting him off. “I promise that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all, actually.”

“Wait… What?” Hoseok asked, bringing his hands up to rub at his temples. “Why’d you leave then?”

You released this really heavy sigh, tongue lining the edges of your teeth before you spoke. “I… You know how you just said you felt dumb asking me that question?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“I’m gonna feel really dumb explaining my reasoning, alright?”

Hoseok watched as you began to wring your hands around each other, looking increasingly more nervous by the second. Because of this he wasn’t really thinking when he reached out, grabbing your fingers, sending a small smile your way to try to say through the silence that it was okay. You didn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable with the gesture, in fact you began to squeeze his hand back, like you were glad to have something to hold onto.

“When I first woke up that morning… I was honestly so happy. I got to remember the night before and how I thought you were so sweet and funny at the same time, and I really liked that about you.” You shot him a small smile that made his stomach twist, but in a good way. “So yeah, it definitely wasn’t that I didn’t like you.”

“Alright,” Hoseok said simply, not wanting to push, so he just waited for you to continue on your own.

“Uhm, but the thing is I haven’t really enjoyed being with someone that much in a while, and it kind of, I don’t know, scared me a bit.”

His brows furrowed. “Scared?”

You nodded as you started to fidget a little bit, leg bouncing up and down. “I, uhm, I just got out of a relationship a while ago. One that I’d been in since high school. It ended pretty terribly, lying… cheating, that kind of thing. But because of that I’m in a really cynical place with my life right now. So yeah, I just don’t want to get involved with anyone romantically at the moment—not that I’m assuming you wanna be with me like that—”

“—No, you’re correct in assuming.” He smiled, and he couldn’t help but laugh at how wide your eyes bugged out at him.

“How can you even say that? I mean we’ve only hung out one time. You could think I’m annoying as hell by the time we’re done talking.”

“But it was also one of the best one times that I’ve ever had with someone. And even though I’m very doubtful that I’ll find you annoying as hell, I’d still like to find that out for myself instead of being pessimistic about it.”

You were trying to maintain your frown, but he could see the way the corners of your lips were fighting to quirk upwards. “But I just told you that I’m the queen of pessimistic outlooks right now.”

“And I’m okay with that.”

“But you said you wanted romance or a relationship… I can’t date you.” You shrugged in this defeated sort of way that made him feel so uneasy.

“Then let’s just be friends.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You’d be alright with being just friends? Like nothing else?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong the sex and non-friend stuff was fucking amazing and all, but the reason that was so great in the first place was because I liked you. Honestly, I think you’d get along great with my friend Sana, because you guys both seem to love busting my balls, and—”

Hoseok didn’t get to finish before you had your hands yanking at the front of his shirt, dragging him closer until your lips were on his. It was a soft kiss, so brief and short that he didn’t even get a chance to react before you were pulling away, light giggles falling past your mouth.

“Uhm,” Hoseok brought his hand up to scratch at his temple. “Yeah… I’m confused.” He laughed.

“Like I said, I’m not ready to get into something serious right now… But, if you’d be interested in being friends who do stuff like this,” You paused to squeeze at his shirt, sending him a sultry gaze that was filled with all of the insinuation that he needed. “Then I’d be alright with that—but obviously only if that’s something you’d even wanna try out.”

You dropped your hand from his shirt, sitting back as you presumably gave him some space to think about it. He wasn’t going to lie, he genuinely liked you in a way that he could see working beyond just sex, but like you said, you definitely weren’t ready for anything serious. Because of this he was honestly hard-pressed finding a reason not to say yes to your proposition. People did the fuck-buddy thing all the time, it wasn’t a big deal… Right? Hoseok honestly wasn’t sure if that was the correct way to think about it, but in the end, he was already pulling you back in for another kiss before he could change his mind.

You hummed into his mouth, hands finding their way back into the fabric of his shirt. It was so strange, he’d been thinking for the past week that he would never get to feel this again, your lips on his, tongue licking into his mouth, and yet here you were.

—But of course, when it came to you, it seemed that there was always rain in your wake. The light splash of what seemed to be the beginnings of a light shower began to fall along Hoseok’s skin. The two of you broke apart, looking up to see that the sky had gotten so violently gray, and it was only a matter of time before the relentless downpour came crashing down.

“Shit, we gotta get outta here,” Hoseok said, standing up from the bench.

“We can go to my place if you want? It’s right around the corner.” You gave him a tiny shrug and a smirk that implied so many things that there was no way that he could’ve possibly said no.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He smiled, reaching down to lace your hand with his. “Wait… Can friends do this?”

You chuckled, pulling him in closer. “Yeah, they can.”

﹍﹎﹍﹎﹍﹎

Your apartment was only about a five-minute drive from where the festival was happening, and thankfully you’d driven there. During that time Hoseok texted both Sana and Jimin saying that he was good and that they could go without him, resulting in many texts asking him where the hell he’d gone, but he decided he’d just wait to tell them in person.

By the time you pulled into your apartment complex the rain had already started to fall pretty hard. The two of you made a run for it, but still got pretty soaked in the process. You quickly shoved your key into the lock before twisting the knob and pushing yourselves inside.

“God, it’s so muggy.” You sighed, tossing your keys onto a nearby table. “Want anything to drink?”

He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settled his chin on your shoulder. “No, I’m good.” He started placing light pecks along the side of your neck.

“Sure?” You asked, twisting around in his arms so you were facing him. “I’ve got some Grey Goose.”

“Oh my god.” He laughed. “Are seriously still talking shit about my Pinnacle.”

“Me? I would never.” You smiled, hands traveling up his chest.

“Still such a shit liar,” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

Hoseok felt himself being backed up until he was pressed against a wall next to a door, your hands traveling underneath his shirt. He sighed into your mouth, every touch turning his head cloudy.

It felt like his clarity was vanishing with each passing second, his thoughts turning hazy beneath you. Hoseok sort of knew in that moment, the second you led him into your room and he closed the door behind the two of you, that he was going to get a little lost. That he might take a few missteps in these confusing woods of lust and emotion, because you were a girl shrouded in fog, but he only hoped that he could eventually help lead you out of the mist.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts scenarios #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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disruptedvice · 6 years

Note

Starmora promp AU: Peter is an colded mercenary only for mobey and Gamora is a bounty haunter that helps her family and they meet in Knowhere and started to know their past of each other.

Summary: “Holycrap dude! You stabbed me!” Peter shouted, not sure if he shouldfocus on how he had a blade buried in his flesh right now or thewoman who put it there. It sounded almost like an accusation comingfrom his mouth, like stabbing him was against the rules. Of thisfight where he was trying to kill her, and was now actually whiningabout gettingstabbed.

Sheraised her eyebrows in what was clearly an areyou honestly surprised lookif he had ever seen one.

“Yes,”Gamora stated calmly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Yougonna pull it out anytime soon? I’d like to have my blade back.”

Itwas her favorite one. She didn’t have a chance to remove it fromhis shoulder before she had to jump back to evade him blindlyswinging around his daggers like a true idiot.

“No!You stabbed me with it!” Peter shrieked, still freaking out aboutthe knife in his shoulder. She hadn’t realized his voice could gothat high- it was somehow even more shrill and grating than before. “No!”He shouted again, looking down at the knife in his shoulder, thenback up to her. “No! You’re not getting it back! It’s mine now!”

AO3 Link

_______

The Bounty Hunter and the Mercenary

_______

Peterthought it was luck when he ran into her.

Sure,it was a little coincidental, but he’d seen weirder things in hisline of work. The bounty hunter he’d been hired to take out justshowing up outside his regular base of operations on Knowhere wasn’tthe strangest thing considering her line of work. Probablythere for a bounty.

Hethought he’d been lucky. Most jobs usually took a bit morereconnaissance, especially when it came to someone as skilled andmobile as her. She never stayed in the same place for too long. Theywere similar in that respect. What he generously referred to as hisbase of operations was really just his favorite bar on this seedy,crime infested shit hole.

Hethought he’d been incredibly lucky when he caught the flash of greenout of the corner of his eye, halfway through a bottle of thecheapest liquor Knowhere had to offer when he got a good look andrealized that yes, that was Gamora, daughter of Thanos, walking pastthe dirty, dingy windows that practically came with every buildinghere. Knowhere attracted a certain unsavory element, includingthe bar Peter was in right now. The people who frequented theparticular establishments here were probably a feeding ground forbounty hunters with the right skills. It was just unfortunate for herthat she passed by the bar that a mercenary who’d been hired to killher was drinking in. He’d done his due diligence gathering intel onhis upcoming target, but he hadn’t even begun narrowing downlocations or tracking her movement yet.

Peterthought he was lucky when he saw her just walking down the street.

Heshould’ve realized sooner.

Instead,he made a quick exit, settling up his tab and leaving a grosslygenerous tip rather than waste precious seconds splitting hairsbefore he stumbled out the door, half worried he had already losther.

Whenhe’d spotted the whip of black purple hair and signature leatherhalfway down the block just as she turned the corner, he should’veknown.

Buthe didn’t catch on until it was too late. He could blame that on thecheap and crude alcohol that had already made its way into hissystem, but still. He should’ve known better than to go after someoneas good as her when he’d already been drinking.

Heshould’ve realized when she didn’t look back over her shoulders evenonce as he surreptitiously followed her. Someone with her history andtraining would’ve been paranoid as heck, and certainly watching herown back as she walked through the streets covered in grit and grimewith shady dealings happening everywhere you turned.

Shedidn’t check over her shoulder even once. He should’ve knownsomething was up. But no, when she made her way through one of thealleyway openings that littered the streets of Knowhere and opened toa secluded back balcony, he just followed her like an idiot.

Hedidn’t even have time to turn his head before she got the drop onhim, coming out of nowhere (or behind the wall, more likely),slamming him into the ground and immediately following up with apunch to the face.

Themetallic tang of iron and the unmistakable taste of blood suddenlyfilling his mouth wasn’t unfamiliar to him, hardly, in fact. Spittingthe blood out of his mouth and into the soot that had been kicked upby a scuffle on Knowhere’s streets- this wasn’t anything new to him.Losing the upper hand this early in a fight, being caught so offguard, he was a little less used to this. But he’d always been goodat thinking on his feet.

Petertried to pull his knees up in order to kick her off of him, but itdidn’t do much good when she was literally pinning him down in thesmothering ash. Gamora knew what she was going after though- the gunstrapped to his hip. She ticked her lips at his squirming andstruggling, but his wild movements and flaying limbs did nothing todislodge her. Peter soon gave up on trying to throw her off of himand instead focused on landing as much damage as he could with hisfists.

Gamoragrowled and dug the heel of her palm into his solar plexus after herhead snapped back from a punch, and it stunned him long enough forher to snatch his blaster and pull back just in time to dodge anotherblow.

Shewas already up and away before Peter managed to scramble onto hisfeet with an empty holster, which he didn’t even realize was missingsomething until he saw it in her hands. After she stole his gun (hisfavorite!), Gamora then proceeded to drop it over the railing andinto the endless void of space.

Peterwas completely dumbfounded, but already reaching for the daggers hehad hidden under his clothes by pure reflex, his knees bent as heshifted onto the balls of his feet to adopt a fighting stance. He’dhave time for mourning the loss of his favorite weapon later. Rightnow he was getting ready for a fight.

Hereyes flashed with something like amusement. No, not amusement, Peterrealized. Challenge.__________

Hethought it was lucky running into her just like he did.

Evidentlynot.

Peterwas clearly very unlucky. Even with her skill, he thought the fightwould be over soon. Now, as they’d circled each other for probablyabout the millionth time after another clash of blades, he’d beenproven wrong. Every attack and defense was evenly matched, and whathe’d thought would be a reasonably quick fight had been dragged outmuch, much longer with no sign of stopping soon.

Hewas very unlucky to get a target as skilled as her. This wouldn’t beeasy.

Especiallysince she came prepared. Already knew everything about him. Includinghis favorite weapon that she’d disposed of first thing.

Droppinghis gun over the side railings and reducing him to fighting withwhatever daggers he had strapped down when she brought a fuckingsword to this fight.

Herealized he was even more unlucky once he found out this bountyhunter was here for him. He had a price on his head, of coursehe did, and Gamora was set on taking him in. And not letting him killher in the process. She’d done her research too, it seemed.

Shewas annoyingly good in combat; Peter would’ve been impressed if itwasn’t so damn frustrating.

Inless than 10 minutes of them sparring round in circles (it could’vebeen considered more if they’d done anything other than dance aroundeach other clashing blades) this Gamora, last of the Zehoberi,managed to suss out that he had been hired to kill her for a veryprincely sum.

Sothat was interesting. He’d been hired to kill this prolific bountyhunter known simply as Gamora, the most dangerous woman in thegalaxy. She’d been hired to to capture, detain, and bring in onePeter Quill, a notorious mercenary who also went by the name ofStarlord.

Interesting.

Itcertainly was not lucky getting paired with someone as good as her.He honestly wasn’t sure how this fight was gonna end.

Hereyes were calculating, and every move he made she seemed to predictand have a perfect strike in response to that had him dodging andcountering and always on the defense.

Howlong had they been exchanging blows? From the way his muscles werestarting to ache, he’d guess something like half an hour. From thesweat beading on her temple and running down the back of his neck,he’d say 45 minutes.

Theywere both starting to tire, he could tell as she grit her teeth andtwisted her foot in the dirt after being forced back to her side ofthe makeshift arena, that was really just their trampled footsteps inthe soot that lined every inch of Knowhere.

“Youknow, if I still had my blaster, this fight would be going muchdifferently by now,” Peter claimed with a smile and that cockyattitude he was always sporting, absolutely sure of it as he wipedhis brow with his sleeve. His old leather ravager jacket was hot ashell, but no way was he taking it off and giving up what littleprotection the thick fabric gave him from sharp pointy things likeher sword. She’d already sliced through it and drawn blood more thana couple times, and while it sure as hell stung, it was nothing toobad.

He’dmaybe caught her skin a couple times with his daggers, but the damagewas minimal at best. He only managed to nick her when she came in fora strike on him.

Mostof the damage he’d landed on her came from his fists when she hadtackled him and they spent a solid minute grappling before she’dwrestled his gun away from him and dropped it over the side.

Gamorasneered. “I’m sure you’d like to think that.”

“No,really, I’m really good with it,” Peter said, smiling like thisreally was a sparring match between two old friends and colleagues,not strangers trying to take each other out.

Gamoradidn’t look impressed.

“Yourreliance on long range weapons is a weakness. I’ll admit, you’re abit better with a blade than I thought you’d be,” the bounty hunterfrowned, her brows lowering in displeasure. “No matter. You’ll godown just like the rest of them. They always do.”

Sheleapt at him, burying a dagger that she just pulled out of fuckingnowhere in his shoulder, and Peter cried out, ripping away from herand blindly slashing as more of a defensive maneuver than actuallyaiming for her at all, using his wild movements to cover his retreatback to the railings.

Shejumped back, hissing in what he soon realized was pain when he sawthe new gash on her thigh and the dark liquid spilling from thewound.

Peterlooked down at his shoulder. Her knife was still in it.

“Holycrap dude! You stabbed me!” He shouted, not sure if he should focuson how he had a blade buried in his flesh right now or the woman whoput it there. It sounded almost like an accusation coming from hismouth, like stabbing him was against the rules.

Sheraised her eyebrows in what was clearly an areyou honestly surprised lookif he had ever seen one.

“Yes,”she stated calmly. “You gonna pull it out anytime soon? I’d liketo have my blade back.”

“No!No way!” Peter didn’t know how she could say something like thatso normally when he still had a frickin knife in his shoulder. God,that hurt. Still, it’s not like he was gonna give her the commoncourtesy of returning her knife that was still in him because shestabbed him with it. “No!” He shouted, even louder this time.Shrieked was probably a better word to describe it, actually. “Youstabbed me with it! You’re not getting it back! It’s mine now!”

“Butit’s my favorite one,” Gamora said, clearly regretting buryingher favorite dagger in some asshole that didn’t return weapons usedagainst him. She was standing in the circular opening that led backto the main platform that was otherwise known as his only exit,unless he wanted to take a free fall much the same way his gun hadgone into the endless abyss. Check that one off the list.

“Comeon, don’t you have better things to do?” Peter tried, sincenegotiating was his specialty (other than the whole mercenary thing).It took everything he had in him to not pull the dagger out of hisshoulder that hurt like hell. The instinct to cover his wound withhis hand was near overwhelming, he knew that would help at least alittle bit, but his right hand was kinda busy holding hisfavoritedagger, AKA his best defense right now against her bigass sword. Hisbrain kept telling him that his shoulder would stop killing him if hepulled the knife out of it, but he knew his brain was stupid, andremoving the knife was the quickest way to death via copious bloodloss. No way was he giving her back the knife that was currentlystopping him from bleeding out. He still had his second dagger in hisleft hand too, but he didn’t know how useful that would be since hewas pretty sure it would hurt like hell just trying to move his leftarm right now. “I can’t be the only bounty offered in thissystem. Hell, there’s gotta be at least 15 other guys on Knowherealone who have over 50,000 unit prices on their heads! They’ll bemuch easier to take in than me, I promise. Why don’t you go afterone of them? How is this worth the trouble for you? Don’t give meany nonsense about me being the real bad guy here or some moralityshtick, I know the kind of work you used to do for Thanos. How canthis job be worth it for you? If you think this is just the start ofmy annoyingness, watch out sister, cause I can become a whole lotmore inconvenient than what you’ve seen. I can pay you twice asmuch as whatever the going rate on my head is these days. Staying inthis fight with you isn’t worth it for me anymore either. So let’sjust settle this like the business transaction it really is.”

Gamora’sjaw ticked and her eyes narrowed at the mention of the mad Titan’sname. He was hoping that would throw her off. He’d done hisresearch too, before accepting this particular commission. He knewshe wasn’t exactly the most willing of Thanos’s soldiers back inthe day. But he was sure this wasn’t a morality crusade given herhistory, and he didn’t see how it could be personal, so all that’sleft was monetary gain. Which was good, because those motivationswere much harder to persuade from doing something other thankilling/capturing him.

Gamorascoffed. “Nice try. I’m not trading you in for money,”shesneered, spitting into the dirt. “You won’t be bribing me offlike any of the other officials and hunters who’ve let you get awaybefore. You’re merely collateral, Quill. In a trade. You havenothing to offer me that I want. And you’re not talking your wayout of this one.”

“Comeon, whynot?!”He whined in the most childish manner she had ever seen an adult manemulate. He looked two seconds away from stamping his feet in thedirt and throwing a full blown temper tantrum.“You didn’t eventhink about it! You won’t even let me try! Just tell me what you’regetting, thenyoucan have the satisfaction of shooting me down. Give me a fair chanceto give you an offer!”

Sheknew he was just trying to buy time as they started circling aroundeach other again. And it wasn’t until they started back at theirslow and wary dance of keeping their distance and watching each otherthat she realized just how deep his slash had gone in her leg. Hermods were designed to keep her alive in near death situations, buteven the nanotechnology with rapid response and healing factors stillneeded time to repair her muscle that felt like it had been slicedclean through. With the amount of blood and placement, she was luckyhis blade didn’t nick her femoral artery. Buying herself a fewminutes to let the nanobytes repair what they could would probably bebest overall instead of pushing her damaged muscle fibers further bymoving at anything faster than a walk right now. He didn’t have toknow how bad her leg was.

“Doyou have a brother? A sister?” Gamora asked, even though shealready knew the answer. Everyone knew that Starlord had no family,no friends, and no allies. He was alone. He only looked out forhimself.

“No.”

“ThenI do not expect you to know how it feels to be faced with losing yourfamily, Terran,” she spat venom, and didn’t notice how her wordsmade his footsteps falter, his movements stutter.

“Mysister faces execution for her crimes, but the Sovereign have offereda trade. I get her if I bring you to them. And I’m not leaving herewithout you, Starlord.”

“TheSovereign? Oh man, I hate those guys!” Peter whined, and for amoment she was taken aback by his sudden shift in tone, how his voicewas that of whining to a friend, not someone he’s trying to killwho’s trying to capture him for a bounty. It was a different voicethan the one he had been using up till now. Before it was stillclearly the voice of a practiced liar trying to talk his way out ofsomething and negotiate for his life. Now she didn’t know what itwas… just different.

Histone was so casual and genuine compared to his previous words that itwas distracting and disconcerting in a way that didn’t make sense toher.

“They’resuch assholes!” Peter exclaimed, and even though she was inclinedto agree, and that she wouldn’t be doing business with them ifNebula had not been caught trying to steal those stupid batteries,she wasn’t going to saythat.

The,once again, very immature mercenary pursed his lips, then sighed.“You’re really not leaving here without me, are you?”

“Nota chance,” she confirmed easily.

“Youknow, if you hand me over to the sovereign, they’re gonna executeme, right?”

“Notmy problem. If you expect me to have sympathy for a mercenary such asyourself, Starlord, then you are mistaken.”

Henodded, as if conceding her point. Peter held up his hands, stillcarrying both his blades. “Okay, I’m just gonna call a temporarytruce and back up to this here balcony so we can talk withoutcircling each other like a bunch of idiots,” Peter claimed, takingthe few steps back until he was against the outer balcony before heleaned up against it, relaxing in his stance. Gamora watched himwarily- she didn’t trust him farther than she could throw him. Andwhile she knew they wouldn’t come to a solution, she took a fewsteps back too, her leg quite thankful for the opportunity to rest.

“Alright,so fair point. But you hate the sovereign too, right? I saw your facetwitch when I said that! You think they’re assholes too!”

Gamoraonly scowled in response, immensely displeased that he had been ableto read anything on her face. She supposed he was good at what hedid, as much as she would hate to admit it. People reading. He had awhole list of tricks that she knew she would do poor to dismiss orwrite off just like that. There was a reason he was still aroundafter all these years, why he’d never been captured, why he was themost well known mercenary in a business with an extremely highturnover rate, why he had a body count higher than most armies. She’ddo good not to forget that. He was good at what he did. But so wasshe. She was better.

“Myopinion regarding my current employer does not matter. Neither doesyours,” Gamora said, making sure her expression was nothing morethan absolutely neutral.

“Theygive you a deadline?” Peter asked her, a spark of something justbeyond his eyes that screamed trouble.

“Twoweeks.”

Thesmirk that spread across his face at that was so insufferable thatshe didn’t know how he didn’t make his way through life riddledwith holes. Someone who smirked like that had to get stabbed all thetime. It was probably a daily occurrence for him. She wanted to stabhim again for it. If she had a blade to spare, she would’ve flungit at him right then and there. As it was, her only dagger was in hisshoulder (she was still working on how she was gonna get that back)and she wasn’t gonna let go of her sword anytime soon. Still.

Shecould practically see the gears turning in his head, and the way hissmile widened gave her a feeling of malaise that even Thanos couldn’tstrike in her. His smirk only grew, and from the smugness inherent init, he clearly thought he’d gained some ground on her.

“Okay,maybe you take me in in the end, maybe you don’t,” Peter noddedhis head side to side, as if weighing the likelihood. She’d noticedhe’d slipped back into his easy going negotiation voice. Thatsubtle shift let her know she wasn’t going to like the way this washeading. “You and I both know we can drag this fight on for days,and you don’t have that kind of time if you wanna make it toSovereign space before they kill your sister. You know how much theysuck. On the way isn’t good enough for them.”

“Doyou ever shut your mouth?”

“Nope,”Peter grinned. “So how about we make an alternative arrangement?”

“Ishould just shoot you now for thinking I’m dumb enough to fall foryou trying to talk yourself out of this so desperatelyrightnow.”

“Ah,but you haven’t even pulled out that nice little blaster on yourhip, have you. Now why is that?” He asked in a lilting, sing songvoice, tapping his finger on his chin. Gamora snarled, and if glarescould kill, he would so be dead right now. “Could it be they wantme brought in alive?” He continued, voice going higher, and eyeswidening for effect. “And relatively undamaged?”

Gamora’strigger finger just itched to pull out her gun and shoot him in theface.

“Ah,got it in one,” Peter smiled, so infuriatingly smug. She wascertain it was on purpose. No one could be this much of aninsufferable smartass without being completely deliberate. Petersounded like he was already gloating, in the most infuriating waymanageable. He tapped his nose, then pointed at her. “If there’stwo things I know about the Sovereign it’s that they like theirpeople pretty and their executions public.”

Hehad clocked the gun she had strapped to her side pretty early on inthe fight and tried to get ahold of it whenever they were closeenough, but he’d never even gotten close to grabbing whateverblaster made the vaguely gun shaped outline at her hip. He keptwondering why she didn’t pull it out. Dead or alive bounties werecommon in this business, and knowing who he was, he would’veassumed that everything on his head stipulated that bringing in hisdead body would’ve been fine. But this wasn’t just anyoneoffering a bounty on him. This was the Sovereign. That changedeverything. He’d pissed them off too many times to count, and theywanted to make a spectacleofhim.

“There’sa reason they hired a bounty hunter for this job, and it isn’t foryour fighting ability. Though for real, if you quit your job and gotinto mine, you’d make a killing in the mercenary business,” hesaid, trying to pay her a compliment, but she didn’t look amused.He went on, unperturbed. “That’s besides the point. There’s areason they hired a bounty hunter instead of a mercenary, and it’snot just because I’m the best mercenary in the galaxy. It’sbecause they don’t want me taken out, they want me taken in.”

“Andwhat are you proposing?” Gamora finally asked, if only to stop hisincessant bragging, even though every bone in her body was tellingher not to. Telling her no, no, no, it’s a trap, don’t engage,this is how he ensnared everybody else. Don’t underestimate him.

“Simple.I go with you, of my own free will, we leave right now, and we’llmake it to Sovereign space in 12 days or so. Then we break yoursister out of their pretty little golden jail and we skedaddle, andno one dies. Your sister’s saved and you don’t actually turn meover in the end, and I don’t face public execution. Good idea,right? How’s about it?”

“No,”Gamora said immediately, didn’t even need to take the time to thinkabout it. Peter’s face fell in utter disappointment. “You’regoing to kill me the second I turn my back on you.”

“Nuh-uh!”He argued, like a mature, reasonable adult.

“There’sa reason they hired a mercenary and not a bounty hunter for thisjob,” she parroted his words back at him in a vicious, mockingtone. “You think I don’t know the work you do, Quill? I found youafter all. I know you better than anyone who’s ever come after youbefore. And I know anyone who thinks they can trust you is a fool.Sorry I won’t be as easy to kill as all your other victims. Causeyou’re mybounty.And I knowyou,Peter.Preserving your own life isn’t a good enough motivation for you,cause there’s only one thing you care about. You don’t make anymoney off of letting me live. Don’t think you can bat your prettyeyelashes and have me convinced just like all the rest that you’reas lucky and dumb as you want everyone to believe.”

“Youever get tired of it? You ever want someone to notice how clever youare? How everything goes your way because you plan and practice, andit’s never luck but skill, but you wouldn’t get away with thingsnearly as easily as you do if you broke your charming goofy littlerascal facade, would you?” Gamora taunted. “The unassuming dumbluck sort of guy works out much better for you than the unbearablyclever Peter Quill who notices things and always seems to just barelyescape in the nick of time. I know you, the realyou. Sono, I won’t be taking your offer. I know you rely on peopleunderestimating you, so let me assure you that won’t be happeninghere. And you won’t be talking your way out of this one. There’sonly one thing you care about, and you don’t make enough money outof letting me live. I’m not stupid enough to believe your story fora moment.”

Shewas more than pleased with how that seemed to wipe the smirk rightoff his face. He didn’t have a comeback this time, and her innercompetitiveness was feeling great about beating him in this verbalsparring match, even though their physical match was ongoing.

Peterhesitated to speak, his mouth opening and closing without a sound.His expression was so serious she’d begun to wonder if she hadbroke him. It was a complete change that overtook him. His shouldersslumped forward, body language closing in on himself as he stared atthe ground in quiet thought. Rather than the calculating look hetried to hide before, this look was openly thoughtful.

“Okay,but your sister got caught trying to steal the Anulax batteries,right?” He asked, finally looking up at her. The surprise must haveshown on her face, because he smiled, kindly, and answered thequestion that she hadn’t yet asked. “They always leave them sounguarded. I swear it’s just bait that they leave out all so theycan get on their high horse every time someone tries to steal them.They’ve spent a hundred times more hiring people to defend thosestupid things than they would if they had invested in some simplesecurity for their prized batteries 10 years ago.”

Gamorawas even more furious at Nebula than she had been for falling forsuch a trap, but then again, all of her research into the Sovereigndidn’t even hint at what Peter was implying. For some reason, shedidn’t doubt him, though. Well, for one, he’d immediately knownit was the Anulax batteries that her sister was captured trying tosteal, when the Sovereign had many high value items that theypublicized and would be much more logical targets. But she had afeeling there was a different reason that she didn’t doubt Peter’sclaim right now. She just didn’t know what it was.

“Thebatteries would be what- a quarter mill on the open market?” Peterlooked up, doing the mental math in his head. “Considering how theonly thing I care about it money, that’ll be enough to recoup mylosses on what I would’ve made upon completion of well, you.Besides, this was kinda fun,” Peter waved his hand between them,smiling. He actually had a kinda nice smile when he wasn’t being adick about it. “I was thinking it would’ve been a shame to killyou 40 minutes ago. Now I am a little less sure of if I would comeout on top in this fight. But we could drag this out until yourmotivation is moot. Sovereign space is a 12 day trip from here,minimum. Even if you managed to capture me and get me onboard yourship, I wouldn’t go easily. It’s in everybody’s best interestfor me to go with you willingly. So money plus the satisfaction ofscrewing over those golden D-bags sounds like fun. And I think you’veproven not killing you will be mucheasierfor me than killing you. I’ve already got a knife in the shoulder,”he shrugged his uninjured one, trying not to move the one that stillhad her favorite knife in it. “The Sovereign are such assholes, andI’m a very petty man. They put a bounty on my head, how could I notwant to get them back for that? The batteries are like a 8th of thecommission I would’ve gotten from this job, but I can make up thatdifference easily in no time flat. My business is always in business.I think I would be sad not to get to see your scary face againanyway. So saving us the trouble seems like it’s in both our bestinterests, yeah? You make it back to Sovereign space before yourdeadline’s up, we rescue your sister and that’ll really piss thoseassholes off, and adding insult to injury we grab the Anulaxbatteries on the way out the door. I don’t get executed, and Idon’t get stabbed by you again. That sound like a good plan toyou?” Peter offered, almost looking hopeful. Sincere.

Gamoraknew she couldn’t fall for it. How convincing he was right now wasexactly what everyone else he’d ever screwed over thought.

Eventhough she was kinda impressed to find out that someone paid twomillion units to have her killed, and she was more than a littlecurious to find out who.

“Nope,not good enough,” she refused, trying to ignore how the way hisface fell made her want to frown even more. “Try and come up with abetter story for you motivation. We both know that’s not enough.This is getting pathetic. I thought you were better at making upthings on your feet. Or maybe try giving me one, just onereasonto believe you. You haven’t given me any reason to trust you,”she maintained with a scoff. She didn’t want to let on that she wasgetting more uncertain of her decision to never trust him no matterthe circumstance. He had a point, she didn’t have time to waste.

Shenarrowed her eyes, looking over his shoulder at the backdrop ofperpetual twilight behind him. The illusion of endless night andscores of stars that was Knowhere’s only redeeming aspect just seemedto drive home the time limit. 12 days. She couldn’t waste time onthis suspended wasteland that didn’t even have a star to orbit.

Butshe knew- she could tell that everything he listed wasn’t the realreason behind his offer. She knew she couldn’t trust him. When washe going to get it?

Peterwas silent for a moment, looking down as he thought. Heabsentmindedly rubbed the heel of his palm on his pants as some sortof self soothing gesture, but any conflicting feelings he had werepushed to the side and replaced with certainty when he lifted hishead again. His face now somber and serious as he looked her dead inthe eye and said “You aren’t the only one who’s lost someone.”

Hiseyes were heavy and clear and earnest.

Gamoraknew it was the first honest thing he’d said to her all night. Whathe said earlier, about not wanting to kill her, about selling thebatteries, every part of his negotiation, all of that may have beentruthful, but it wasn’t honest.

Thesewere the first honest words he’s said to her.

Anddamnit. Shewas really going to do this, wasn’t she?

“We’retaking myship,”Gamora snarled. “I don’t trust you in yours.”

Peter’seyes lit up like nothing she’d ever seen, and the resulting smilethat spread across his face just made her feel confused, but notannoyed or angry. She tried to cover it by scowling though, and hequickly joined her by her side. Her hand tightened around the hilt ofher sword at his sudden closeness. But he just waited for her to leadthe way.

“Smort,”Peter nodded, smiling again. One of his easy and eager smiles, eyesalight with humor and maybe even excitement. “That’s probably forthe best. Now which way to your ship?”

Shefelt more than a little uneasy about this agreement, but she’dalready made her decision. She motioned for him to lead the way outof the alley, since she didn’t trust him enough to turn her back tohim. Peter didn’t look surprised or even offended.

And,back on the streets of Knowhere, Peter fell into step next to her asthey walked, his injured side closest to her, so he’d have to usehis far arm if he were to pull anything. Somehow, she was certainthat was on purpose. Joining her on her right side (her swordwielding side) and having his injured arm closest to her. It was asmall, subtle thing to make him seem less threatening to her, and aminute display of trust. Standing on her dominant side, while she wasstill wielding her weapon, and her dagger still buried in his leftshoulder as he walked next to her. It was a minor display of trust,of vulnerability, walking so close to her when she could easily usehis injury against him and it would be too late for him to defendhimself with his right arm. And she knew it was completelyintentional. From the little knowing smile playing at his lips, hewasn’t trying to hide it. He wanted her to know.

Shehad a feeling she was going to regret this, but she wasn’t going toturn back now. Gamora was going to save her sister, and she was goingto use him to do it.

Whateverit took. She wouldn’t fail Nebula again. And she wasn’t going to leta stupid jerkass mercenary get in her way, either.

Andif their first interaction was anything to go on, it certainlywouldn’t be easy spending 12 days on a ship with someone as annoyingas him without throwing him out the airlock, but she could make itthrough. She always did.

Still.This was set to be a long 12 days.

___

____

Author’s note: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but I hope you like it. I’m planning on turning this into a 3 or 4 chapter fic, cause I can’t just leave it like this. Chapter 2 will be posted the last week of November or the first week of December (it took me awhile just to write this chapter, so we’ll see which it ends up being).

#starmora #GOTG fic #guardians of the galaxy #Gamora x Peter Quill #GOTG AU #MCU fanfiction #starmora fanfic #starmora au #my GOTG fics #my fic

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silverfootstepswrites · 7 years

Note

HI! I saw you were writing itasaku fanfics and I was wondering if you could do a soulmate themed fic of them! THANK YOU

title Red Thread summary You just really get me.pairing Itasaku

Four drops of water raced down the window pane. He leaned against it, staring out at the street below. When he pulled away, his fingerprints had smeared onto the glass. Teeth clenching around his pen, he swiveled away. His chair squeaked. He stared at the numbers on his computer screen. The cursor blinked endlessly at the end of the last word he had typed.

“Fucking shit. S’gonna rain,” Hidan grumbled from his desk. He turned away from the window too.

“I’m going out for a smoke before it does,” Kakuzu said, already pulling his jacket off the back of his chair. He tugged his mask down, the elastic loops stretching from behind his ears. Hidan’s glare followed him all the way out.

“He’s had ‘allergies’ for like a month now. He ever think it’s because he smokes a pack a day?” Hidan muttered.

“Good. Hope the both of you die,” declared Kisame, leaning back in his chair.

“Detective,” reprimanded Itachi without looking up.

“I’m not sorry, Itachi. Those two committed an unforgivable sin. I hope Jashin strikes them both with lightning,” Kisame huffed. He got out of his seat with his mug.

“Dumbass. Jashin doesn’t do lightning. It’s more severing heads,” snickered Hidan. Kisame grabbed the warm carafe, shaking his head.

“Good. Even better. Hope he cuts off your head and then hits you with lightning,” amended Kisame.

“All we did was eat your ice cream. When are you going to let that go, man?” Hidan said under his breath.

“When you buy me more Chunky Monkey!” Kisame yelled back.

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. As Hidan and Kisame continued to bicker, he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. He accidentally wrote the word “chunky” in his report instead of “suspect”. Bashing the backspace button, he tried again. This time he wrote the word “ass-douche” as Hidan shouted the insult.

First, his umbrella had broken in a particularly strong gust of wind. Then one of the beat cops had mislabeled some evidence and nearly gotten a conviction thrown out. And then his favorite coffee shop had run out of banana nut muffins and he had had to settle for lemon poppy seed. Now two of his detectives were screaming at each other like children. The irritation began building up inside Itachi’s skull like steam in a pressure cooker.

“Well why wouldn’t you put your name on it?”

“I’m the only one who eats Chunky Monkey, Hidan. You don’t even like bananas. Also why would you eat anything that isn’t yours anyway?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t hog the whole fridge with your protein drinks, I’d have room to bring in my own food!”

“How does that have anything to do with my Chunky Monkey?”

“You’re a chunky monkey!”

Banging his palms down on his desk, Itachi stood.

“That’s enough, you two! I’m sick of hearing about this damn Chunky Monkey!” he shouted over the noise. And in the dead silence that followed, someone cleared their throat.

“Uh…Sergeant. There’s someone here to see you?”

Itachi opened his eyes to see one of the beat cops standing by his desk. The same one who had nearly destroyed his triple homicide. Itachi narrowed his eyes until he realized that a woman stood with him. She looked at him and then her eyes went wide. She quickly averted her gaze. The officer coughed. He didn’t seem to know where to look.

“Uh, this is Miss Haruno. She’s the witness of that ATM robbery from yesterday,” he explained. Nodding to the woman, he quietly made his way out of the bullpen and to the elevator.

Itachi quickly pulled out a chair so that she could sit facing his desk. When he gestured to the seat, she sank into it, her expression strangely unreadable. Which was odd, because the sergeant prided himself on being able to read faces.

“Uh, Miss Haruno. I’m very sorry about that. My name is Sergeant Uchiha. We spoke on the phone this morning,” Itachi stated. She nodded, looking around the room. She tapped her nail against the armrest; it was the color of cherries.

“Yes, although, you made fewer mentions of Chunky Monkey,” she pointed out. Itachi cringed. But when she turned back to him, she was smiling.

“I assume it’s one of those situations where I came in at the worst possible point in the conversation,” she asked. Itachi chuckled.

“You’re pretty sharp.”

Hidan crouched behind Kisame’s desk. They both peered out from behind his peace lily. Hidan glowered at the plant

“Can’t. see, anything. Stupid. flower!” he hissed, smacking at the leaves with each syllable. Kisame shoved him with his shoulder.

“Hey! Lay off my peace lily! It purifies the air,” Kisame whispered.

“Will the both of you shut up? I can’t hear.”

They both jumped. Kakuzu sat on the floor with him.

“When did you get back?” demanded Hidan.

“Shut up!” was all Kakuzu growled in return.

Heads clustered together like some alien plant, they attempted to eavesdrop on the pretty civilian speaking with the sergeant. She sat straight-backed, her short hair tucked behind both her ears.

Itachi asked a question. She laughed, head tilting to one side.

All three men sighed in unison.

“She’s so pretty.”

The three heads swiveled. Deidara sat in Kisame’s chair. He lounged, a dreamy expression on his face.

“Deidara, what the hell. We’re trying to be subtle!” Hidan spat.

“Yeah, three grown men squatting on the floor of a police station behind a ficus is subtle,” he scoffed.

“It’s a peace lily, damnit!” Kisame bellowed.

The sergeant and the civilian both turned to look at them.

“Ah, shit, Kisame,” groaned Hidan. He stood.

“Good going, moron,” Kakuzu agreed, also straightening.

With Itachi’s glare on them, they slowly made their way back to their desks. They settled for sneaking glances at the witness until she eventually gathered her things and left. As soon as the elevator doors shut, they scrambled over to the sergeant’s desk. They huddled around him while he did a good job of ignoring them.

“So, Sarge…what’s her name?”

“How old is she? Do you know what she does?”

“Is she single?”

“Does she like peace lilies?” Hidan snickered, earning another shove from Kisame.

“Her name is… none of your business. Whether she’s single is none of your business. And all of that is irrelevant to your jobs, which you should be doing right now,” Itachi finally responded, still typing.

“Aw, come on, Sarge. We never get the hot witnesses. The last one I got was an 80 year-old woman who kept calling me ‘Peaches’,” groaned Deidara.

“Detectives. If you’re still standing here by the time I finish typing this sentence, you’re all losing overtime this week,” stated Itachi. Rolling their eyes, they complained all the way back to their desks.

“Besides, we’re never going to see her again. So quit wasting time and work on your cases,” he added.

“Itachi sucks,” Hidan muttered under his breath.

“I heard that, Hidan.”

“Good. Now you know.”

True to Itachi’s prediction, he solved the case within the week. He didn’t have to call the pretty witness in again. And with another case closed, he typed up a new report.

II.

At 8, he clocked out, backed out of his parking spot, and pulled onto the main street. Halfway home, he remembered that he was out of milk, eggs, and actually that pretty much his whole fridge was empty. Sighing, he made a legal u-turn and headed for the supermarket.

Pushing his squeaking cart down the fluorescent aisle, he grabbed the usual packages and leafy vegetables. The most exciting thing was that he decided to get red bell peppers instead of yellow this time. A surly teenager with a lip ring rang up his groceries.

“Have a good evening,” he said in a flat tone as he handed over the receipt. Almost as if secretly hoping for the opposite to happen.

Itachi drove home and parked in his spot. He crammed all the paper bags into his arms at once, refusing to make more than one trip. He dropped his keys. Stooped to pick them up, dropped his phone. Picked that up, dropped his wallet.

Blowing out a sigh, he crouched in the parking lot for a long moment. Gathering the vestiges of his patience, he scooped everything up and made his way up to his apartment on the second floor. Everything seemed to be going reasonably well until he got to his door, dropped his keys, his phone, and then a bag split open, unleashing every single cherry tomato possible. Like a river of fleeing tomatoes.

“….Tomato betrayal,” he uttered.

“Woah. Uh. Here, let me help you.”

“No, that’s really not necessary. I ap-” he began, looking up. But when he locked eyes with the kind stranger, his jaw went slack.

“Oh. Sergeant,” she said.

“Miss Haruno,” he said.

It had been a year since the ATM robbery case. She had grown out her hair. She was dressed in black this time. Her bright red sneakers almost seemed to shine against the beige carpet. She smiled.

“Last time was Chunky Monkey. This time it’s tomatoes, huh?” she remarked as she squatted to help him retrieve the runaway fruit. She gathered the cherry tomatoes in her palm. He quickly grabbed the rest. They stood up together. She poured them into one of the unripped bags. And then handed over his keys.

“There you go,” she said, grinning.

“Uh. Thank you,” he replied, voice wooden. And for some reason, he pointed at his door.

“I live here,” he announced. And then mentally threw himself off a cliff. That sounded so awkward. So stupid. Sakura blinked a couple times. She then pointed next-door.

“I live here. Just moved in a couple weeks ago,” she replied.

“Oh. Well, good night,” Itachi said in a voice that was too loud. He quickly unlocked his door and slipped into his home, locking the door behind him.

“You WHAT?” Hidan shouted.

“AW, SARGE! NO!” Kisame lamented. He slid out of his seat, melting into a pile of disappointment on the floor. He flailed around, throwing a mild tantrum. Kakuzu walked in, microwaved burrito in one hand.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

“Turns out Hot Witness now lives next to the sarge. And when he ran into her last night, he said ‘oh, well, good night’ and shut the door on her’,” reported Deidara, chin in his hand.

“Yikes,” replied Kakuzu in an equally flat voice. He took a bite of his burrito and winced as the beans burned the roof of his mouth.

“It’s simple. All Sarge has to do is make sure he never runs into Hot Witness again. Stake out her apartment. Find out her schedule. And then plan the rest of your life so that your paths never cross again,” Kisame listed, his eyes a little crazy.

“Honestly, Itachi, that was pretty humiliating. I say just move to another country. Or get a face transplant,” Kakuzu said.

“Not helping, Kakuzu,” Hidan said, glaring. Kakuzu shrugged.

“I never said I was trying to,” he answered before he blew on his steaming burrito.

“Y’know, I’ve lived in my building for ten years and I’ve seen my neighbors maybe three times. I doubt Itachi will see her again,” Deidara pointed out. He clicked and dragged a card across his screen. Kakuzu leaned on the back of his chair. He used his burrito to point at one of the cards and gestured where to put it.

“You’re probably right, Deidara,” Itachi agreed.

III.

Itachi spilled a bunch of chili down the front of his shirt just before he saw her.

“Oh! Hey, neighbor,” she said. And then she saw the chili on his shirt and paused.

“Oh,” she said again.

“Uh, hi. Got a bit of a chili situation,” he explained, needlessly. She gave a polite smile.

“Yeah. Looks like it. I feel like food is always betraying you in some way or another. Do you need help?”

“No thanks. I uh…didn’t want the rest of the chili anyway…” he finished, lamely. She blinked a few times.

“Oh…is that why… you spilled it?” she asked with obvious concern.

“No,” he answered too loudly.

She blinked again. Itachi stared right back.

“You should probably soak that quickly. It’ll set if you don’t,” she pointed out.

“Uh…” Itachi responded, eloquently.

“The stain. It’ll set…” she repeated. Her patience amazed him. Glancing down at his shirt again, Itachi sighed.

“A little detergent and maybe some vinegar if that doesn’t work,” she went on. When Itachi continued to stare, she tilted her head.

“You know what? I was on my way back up anyway. I can show you how,” she offered, taking a step forward. It was only then that Itachi noticed the big cardboard box on her hip. He pointed at it.

“I can carry that,” he told her. She turned to look at him. Then looked down at her box.

“I mean… I’m not bragging that I can carry heavy things. I was offering- er. I would be willing to carry it for you. Not that I think you can’t. Feminism rules,” he rambled. She jostled the box a little.

“You know, this is actually pretty heavy. I would appreciate the help,” she said, handing it over to him. Itachi accepted it and nearly dropped it as the full weight hit him. But she had already turned to walk up the steps into the building.

Up on the second floor, she unlocked her door.

“Could you leave that on the table? Thanks.” She pointed to the round wooden table in the kitchen. Itachi deposited it as carefully as he could. It still landed with a disturbingly loud thud. He even thought he saw the table legs vibrating under the weight.

“Lose the shirt, Sergeant. Here. I’ll trade you,” she said.

When something came flying toward his face, he caught it. He turned it over in his hands. It was a rather old shirt, the lettering so faded that he couldn’t tell what it had once said. When he looked up, she had her back to him as she walked down the narrow hall. Popping open the buttons of his shirt, he quickly swapped it out for the t-shirt.

As he stared down at the heinous chili stain, her voice drifted in from the other room.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he called back.

She held her hands up as she walked past. Itachi tossed her the shirt. She held it up to the light.

“Wow. You just completely missed your mouth, didn’t you,” she observed. Itachi felt his cheeks warm. He followed her to the kitchen sink. She plugged it and began filling it with water. Her fingers flickered in and out of the stream as she adjusted the temperature.

“So there’s protein in this. You never want to put it in hot water because that’ll cook the stain in,” she explained. She dabbed soap onto the stain. Then she scrubbed the fabric together until the detergent foamed. She looked up at him.

“What do you usually do for stuff like this anyway?” she asked.

“I just pour bleach on it and hope for the best. I now own a lot of white shirts that didn’t necessarily start that way,” he admitted, looking down at the faded t-shirt. He squinted. Was that an M or an H? She plunged the shirt into the warm water, scrubbing harder.

“So do you do this all the time? Bring people up here to teach them how to do laundry?” he asked, looking around. Her apartment had the same layout as his. There was a vase of flowers by the door, filled with roses that weren’t quite pink and weren’t quite peach. Kind of like the color of her hair.

“Yeah. It’s how I get them so I can harvest their organs for meat pies,” she answered, matching his easy tone. When he gaped at her, she looked a little worried.

“I’m kidding,” she said.

“I knew that,” he replied, quickly turning away. He glanced over her counters. There was a stand mixer and a rather large blender. A variety of mugs hanging from a rack- each with some sort of animal ears or a face on them. Even the apron hanging by the oven was adorable. It was covered in little yellow chicks.

“But you know, I was really surprised to see that you’re my neighbor. Kind of makes me feel safe living next to a cop,” she confessed. His eyes drifted back to her. Their eyes met. There was no hidden laugh there. She was serious.

“Uh well… you know, even if it’s not an emergency, you can ask for my help. If you’re walking home late or something… you know…” he trailed off, mumbling. She lifted the shirt to examine it. Water dripped back into the sink. She plunged it back in, scrubbing again.

“You know, I don’t think I can do that…”

His heart sank.

“Given that I don’t even have your number,” she continued.

His heart soared.

She looked over her shoulder at him.

“That number you called me at was my personal. Drop call me?” she suggested. Itachi cleared his throat.

“Actually, when I called you, I wasn’t at my desk. So… you have my number too,” confessed Itachi. She smiled.

“Well, problem solved then,” she declared. And then she lifted the shirt in the air.

“Two problems,” she amended, turning with it stretched out in front of her.

IV.

“Hm. Sarge is whistling,” Hidan noted to himself. He continued typing for a few extra seconds. And then he gasped. Ducking his head, he wheeled over to Kisame’s desk. He had aimed poorly. His chair smashed into the other detective’s.

“What the hell, Hidan?” Kisame snapped. But Hidan threw his arm over his shoulder and pulled him down.

“Sarge is whistling,” he hissed.

Kisame stared at him. Then his eyes widened. He glanced over Hidan’s shoulder. Itachi was typing away at his desk. The man was indeed pursing his lips, whistling some classical music.

“Theories. Quick. Kakuzu, keep track,” Hidan said.

“This is stupid,” Kakuzu sighed even as he flipped to a fresh page in his notepad.

“Go,” Hidan ordered, pointing at Kisame.

“Itachi found a rare state quarter that he didn’t have before. Because you know he totally collects coins,” Kisame theorized, throwing down a crumpled twenty. Kakuzu nodded as he jotted it down.

“He ordered a really old, rare book and it’s coming in the mail today,” he then conjectured. He reached over and threw in another $20 bill.

“Ooh! Good one!” Kisame agreed. Hidan reached into his wallet to pull out a crisp $20 bill. He stretched it, making snapping noises. He handed Kisame the money, then rubbed his hands together.

“Okay. He marathoned a bunch of history documentaries he’s had on his DVR forever,” Hidan guessed.

“Damn, I should have guessed that,” groaned Kisame, sagging in his chair.

“That is pretty good,” Kakuzu said, writing.

“Yo. Deidara. What about yours?” asked Hidan.

They all turned to look at their coworker. He had his head down in his arms. Kisame grabbed a sheet of paper off his desk, wadding it into a ball. He lobbed it at Deidara, hitting him in the back of his head.

“Cough it up. And then talk, Deidara,” demanded Kisame. Deidara lifted his head, scowling.

“Pay up, nerd,” Kakuzu said. Deidara grumbled, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Muttering under his breath, he found the money and slapped it onto his desk.

“Your theory?” Kakuzu badgered him, holding his pencil ready.

“Your theories are all wrong. It’s obvious. The Sarge got some,” Deidara replied in a flat voice. He leaned back in his chair, arms limp at his sides.

The three other detectives stared at him before they burst into raucous laughter. They thumped their fists against Kisame’s desks. Even Kakuzu snickered, still jotting down the response. Clicking his tongue, Deidara spun his chair to face the sergeant who, surprisingly enough, wasn’t glaring at all the noise.

“Hey Sarge!” Deidara called out.

“Deidara, shut up!” hissed Hidan.

“You’re in an awfully good mood. Something good happen last night?” Deidara asked, ignoring his panicking coworkers. Itachi’s fingers stopped clattering against the keyboard.

“Shit,” muttered Kakuzu, lowering his head. Kisame ducked behind his peace lily, as if he could hide his huge body behind the ceramic pot.

“Not bad, detective,” Itachi stated.

Kisame’s head shot up.

“What?”

“No way!”

“Hand it over, you morons,” crowed Deidara.

“Wait, with Hot Witness? Was it Hot Witness?” Kisame shouted.

“Get back to work, detectives,” Itachi simply said as he resumed typing.

At noon, the Sarge always took his lunch break. On the rare occasion, he chipped in a couple bucks and stood eating pizza at Hidan’s desk. But more often, he took a walk to his favorite coffee shop.

A warm cup of Americano was a given. And he had a few favorite paninis and wraps that he cycled through. It was a quiet little joint. There were minimal hipsters crowding up the place and so it was an ideal spot for a relaxing lunch.

The barista at the counter recognized him and fired up the espresso machine.

“Oh, hey. We’re trying out a new recipe. Do you mind being the guinea pig?” the barista asked as he poured the coffee into a paper cup. Itachi’s eyebrows rose.

“Can I ask what kind of recipe?”

“Uh. I think she said some kind of chocolate? Hold on,” the barista hedged. He stuck his head into the kitchen and shouted something. The front of the kitchen was opened up to the rest of the coffee shop. Half the wall had been cut out and replaced with smooth wood countertops. He sometimes saw hands push out foods and such, but it had never been anything worth noting.

There was a distant bang. And then he saw hands emerge from that partition holding a plate. The bright red nails made him pause.

The barista returned with the plate.

“She says it’s a chocolate chiffon pie,” he reported. But Itachi wasn’t listening. He craned his neck, trying to peek into the kitchen. The hands were still there, tapping against the counter.

It would be embarrassing to be wrong, but the uncertainty honestly felt worse.

“…Sakura?” he called.

A head popped into view.

“No way! Sarge?” She grinned. “You’re the regular that Haku won’t stop talking about?” And then her eyes went wide. She held up one finger.

“Hold on!” she said.

And then she disappeared. It only took a few seconds for the kitchen door to swing open. She looped around the espresso machine and plopped her elbows down on the counter.

“Okay. Now take a bite. Let me know what you think. I kind of messed with this recipe,” she ordered. Face resting on the backs of her hands, she waited. Itachi looked from her down to the plate.

“Is this a new job?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No way. This is my store. I’m always in the kitchen, though,” she replied. And then she pointed to the menu mounted above the counter. She was wearing an adorable apron, just like the one hanging in her kitchen. Although, this one had a light blue pattern with piglets.

“But maybe that means I should show my face in the front more often,” she added, laughing.

Itachi leaned in closer. He took her hands. A blush rose to her cheeks.

“So you’re the one who bakes those banana nut muffins?” he interrogated. Sakura nodded.

“Fresh. Every morning,” she confirmed. Itachi lowered his voice.

“My life has been made so much better by those muffins. If I could, I would live inside one of them for the rest of my life.”

Sakura blinked.

“Thank…you? I think…”

Haku blinked at the both of them.

“So…y’all gonna try this pie or what?”

“Oh my god. Itachi,” Sakura exclaimed. He looked up from his newspaper. It took him a moment to find Sakura laying on her stomach by the couch. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her actually sit on the couch. Instead, she seemed to always lie on the shag rug beside it. And once again, she was there.

“Itachi, come here. You have to see this,” she insisted. Setting his paper down, he made his way over to her. A large book was spread open in front of her. She motioned for him to come closer. And so he sat on the rug. And he finally understood why she was always on it. It was so perfectly soft and fuzzy.

Sakura pointed to something on the page.

“So I was looking through my high school yearbook. And look!”

Itachi followed her finger. It was a picture, he read the caption, of the debate team in the gymnasium. To the left of the photo was Sakura in braces and a maroon blazer. She sat at a long table with several other teenagers dressed in the same blazer. In the background, he glimpsed a banner informing about the upcoming school dance.

“Cute?” he offered, not knowing what else to say.

“No. Look at this!”

She then pointed to someone in the background on the opposite side of the photo. There was someone carrying a trumpet case. Itachi squinted.

“Is that me?” he gasped.

She flipped to another page. There he was sitting in the courtyard with a couple of his buddies. He was in his letterman jacket, the school’s maroon and yellow proudly on display. And then he found Sakura on the edge of the photo, talking with her friends.

She was in front of some lockers, smiling and laughing. And there he was walking past with his own friends.

“I had no idea we went to school together. That’s so weird!” she exclaimed.

“I mean, our school was really big. And you must have been a freshman when I was a senior,” he rationalized.

“Still spooky, Itachi. I love it,” she hummed, legs swinging back and forth.

But the coincidences kept piling up.

Sasuke called, asking if he could crash on his couch for the weekend.

“Sure. I mean, it’s a little cramped but you’re always welcome to stay,” Itachi replied. He turned in his chair and found Kisame and Deidara leering at him from behind the peace lily.

“I’m on the phone with my brother, detectives,” Itachi said.

“Ugh. Boring,” they immediately groaned.

“Yeah, you see, one of my friends moved to your city like a year ago? Haven’t seen her in forever so a bunch of us are coming to throw her a surprise party,” explained Sasuke. Itachi nodded as if his younger brother could hear him. He continued clicking through the details of his latest case, half-listening.

“Actually, she went to school with us. Maybe you know her? Her name’s Sakura.”

Itachi dropped the phone.

“Hello? Hello? What was that?”

Itachi scrambled to pick the phone up. He jammed it up against his ear.

“Wait. Say that again?”

“Yeah. Sakura? We were in concert band together? She’s got pink hair, kind of pretty but also really weird,” Sasuke listed.

Leaning back in his chair, Itachi stared up at the ceiling. There was an old water stain above his desk in the shape of a rabbit. He tilted his head. Or maybe a duck.

“Okay, Sasuke. Get this,” he sighed.

Ten minutes later, Itachi hung up the phone as Sasuke continued to roar with laughter. It only took a few minutes for their family’s group chat to blow up. He didn’t bother opening it up. He didn’t have the energy for that. But he did happen to see Shisui type, “Yeeeeeaaaa get it boiiiiii”.

Itachi silenced his phone.

“Detectives, if I look up and I don’t see you doing something work-related, you’re all going to be staying late organizing case files,” he warned. Chairs squeaked around and someone began shuffling papers very loudly.

VI.

Itachi hesitated in front of her door. He held up his fist, lowered it again. Raised it. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and-

The door swung open. Sakura nearly barreled into him with a pizza box. On the lid of the box were drawings of bright red discs of pepperoni.They stared at one another for a minute. And then she opened the lid.

“I asked for a small and they gave me a large. I will die trying to eat this. I was just about to ask if you wanted to eat together,” she explained.

Itachi held up a six-pack of beer.

“Sasuke left these and they’ve been sitting in my fridge forever. Want to help me?” he said.

“There’s pineapple. Do you like pineapple? I know it’s a very polarizing topping,” she asked even as they stepped into her apartment together.

“Pineapple haters will go to jail,” he answered in a solemn voice. She laughed as they shut the door behind them.

VII.

Grocery store. There was a manger’s special sale on red pepper hummus. After a shift that ran late, Itachi arrived to find that there was only one package left.

He grabbed the last round container from the refrigerated display. The only problem was that someone else grabbed it too.

Left eye twitching, Itachi lifted his chin. It was Sakura, looking rather rumpled and exhausted herself.

“Itachi, release the hummus,” she ordered in a low voice.

“….I will have you arrested, Haruno,” he replied.

VIII.

“Ugh! I can’t believe the Captain is making us stay late for this. We should just let Deidara screw up. Then the Commissioner will grind his body up in his protein shake for breakfast tomorrow and Kisame can take his chair,” groaned Hidan.

Nodding, Kakuzu shot a glare toward the Captain’s office. But the blinds were shut and his glower was wasted.

“You guys should calm down. Sarge got here earlier than all of us. He’s been here for over 24 hours,” cut in Kisame, pointing. Itachi stood in front of the whiteboard, staring at the evidence. His necktie was loose and the back of his shirt wasn’t tucked in.

“Deidara, did you talk to the suspect’s sister?” Itachi asked.

“Already did. She has an alibi,” Deidara called back.

“Damnit. Now I’ve got no leads and I’m hungry,” sighed Itachi, rubbing his hair. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

“I really want some Thai food,” he grumbled to the heavens.

At that precise moment, the elevator doors dinged open.

Sakura walked in, shivering and huffing. She said something garbled but her huge scarf muffled her voice. Itachi walked over to her, opening the gate to let her into the bullpen. While he was at it, he tugged her scarf down, revealing her red nose.

“Hi! Got your text that you were working late. Thought you might be hungry,” she said, holding up a bulging plastic bag in each hand. Itachi trailed after her, jaw slack as she made her way to his desk. She set down the bags and undid the knots. And an absurd amount of food poured out.

“So I had Haku make you a bunch of Americano and put it in a thermos. It should stay warm all night. Here’s some of your favorite banana nut muffins and some carrot cake. I also had some rye leftover today so I made a pastrami sandwich for you,” she listed, hovering her hand over each food.

“Wow. Sakura. Baby. Thank you,” Itachi said, running his hands over his hair again. Her put his arms around her, pulling her chilled body against him. But then he pointed to the second bag that she hadn’t unpacked yet.

“What’s that?”

Sakura unwound her red scarf, shivering again.

“Oh. You know, I had the weirdest craving for Thai food on the way here. So I picked us up some Pad See Ew and Gai Yang. And I got you that pineapple fried rice you like with mild spice,” she stated.

It was silent when she finished speaking. She looked around the bullpen. At the frozen faces, puzzled.

From the back of the room, Deidara peered over his computer screen.

“Wow. Itachi, like, just marry her,” he yelled.

#writing #itasaku #Anonymous #asks #oneshot

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