#donghyuck angst

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

���I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. ���The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

[hyuckmov]

request #4 - himbo haechan

part 2! wc: 13.8k (yeah...) genre: fluff, smut (18+ minors dni), angst, himbo to fwb to lovers haechan warnings: mutual masturbation (kind of), sex over zoom call, softdom haechan and needy desperate haechan, mommy kink once, use of princess and angel and baby, fingering, unprotected fucking, overstim, haechan swears a lot, hair pulling, degradation/haechan likes pain and being humiliated, making love, nipple sucking, voice kink, thigh riding, haechan chokes and sucks on his own fingers, idk man a/n: i hope this is hot. i hope you feel this. i hope you like this. i don't know if this is my best work because i feel like the writing craft is so shoddy at times but idk... AS A PIONEERING HIMBO HAECHAN FIC, i hope this marks an important moment for the himbo haechan thinkers <3 thank you for waiting and thank you for supporting me. please let me know what you think and please be nice...

the first time you meet haechan, he doesn't exactly make a good impression. 

"what are you doing?" 

slowly, he lifts his head from where his lips were brushing your neck. "um…" blinking, his eyes refocus on yours. "trying to kiss you." 

"haechan!" you hiss. 

eyebrows raised, he beams back at you. "y/n!" he hisses back, imitating your tone. 

"i came here with someone else." you push his shoulder lightly, trying to make space between him and you but it's no use — his body slumps even harder, and you can see his eyes scanning your neck, zoning out of the conversation. 

"i know…" he mumbles, tracing a fingertip at your pulse point and making goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

"you do?" 

"yeah…" his other hand hovers in the air, as if he's deciding whether to grab your waist or press his palm to your lower back. 

"so you know i'm talking to someone right now, and it would be bad if i went around kissing my project partners...?" 

silence.

you dip your head slightly to try to look at him through his messy bangs, only to jolt slightly when you glimpse his expression. his eyes already half-lidded with lust, mouth hanging open and drool glistening on his plump lips. why did he look so…needy? fucked out? it had only been about a minute or so since you saw him walk towards you, the easy smile he kept on at full blast. you had exchanged small talk for about 10 seconds over your professor, and then he started nosing at the juncture between your jaw and your neck. 

"haechan?" you prompted, hesitantly. "everything okay?" 

"um...all's good," he mutters, before moving back towards you, lips puckered slightly and ready to mark your skin. 

spluttering, you push him away, again, confusion starting to settle in for you too. could he not take a hint? 

"were you even listening?" you ask, incredulously. "i said i'm talking to someone right now." 

"uh huh." he tilts his head to the side. "um, did you say something after that? sorry-" he breathes, wincing at the frustration on your face. "you just smell so good, i couldn't pay attention…" and as if he couldn't help himself, you noticed his body gravitate towards you, again. 

gripping onto his shoulder to keep him at a distance, you say slowly, "haechan, if i'm talking to someone, it wouldn't be good for me to mess around with other people." 

you see the words register in his head, see the furrow in his brow deepen as he ponders what you're saying. "it wouldn't?" 

"no, it wouldn't." 

"but you're not dating him yet." 

"no, i'm not." you see him open his mouth, so you quickly add, "but we're on our way, and i want to show him i'm serious about it." 

"but i'm serious about you." it was practically lazy – the way he pulled your hand off his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his. 

you couldn't help the thrill that ran down your spine as you were reminded of how strong he was, even though he didn't necessarily look it. 

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you bite back. 

"both." 

you let out a scoff. unable to stop yourself, you blurt out, "are you used to women saying yes to you or something?"

"huh?"

"where do you get your confidence?" 

he raises his eyebrows at you in genuine concern as if you're the confused one in this conversation. "where do you think?" he makes a vague gesture to indicate his pretty face, and you're a little annoyed at how right he is. with heavy eye makeup, mismatched contact lenses giving his look a more piercing quality, moles tracing across his cheek just begging to be suckled with kisses and those heart-shaped lips…you think you would be hard pressed to find a woman in this room who would say no to his shameless flirting. 

"you shouldn't assume, haechan." something close to confidence begins to stir up in you, and you straighten, shaking your hand out of his. "it's not nice to kiss someone without asking them properly. you should always try to read the situation, and make sure you have consent." 

listening intently like a student in a classroom, he nods slowly to show he understands. "not nice, got it. anything else?" 

"don't try to steal people away from their dates," you add on, inspired.

"right."

"and don't say things like 'i'm serious about fucking you' if you don't really mean–" 

"-this is hot." he interrupts, words blurring together in a rush. his eyes unfocused and dreamy, he drags his gaze up and down your body indulgently. "you teaching me things." 

"hae-" 

"teaching me how to be a good boy…" he breathes. "yeah. fuck." 

your jaw drops, momentarily speechless. and yet, despite everything you were supposedly teaching him, his straightforwardness, the lack of filter, the raw desire that seemed to course through his entire body…you couldn't deny that it was making you feel a certain way too. 

fixing him with a look that conveyed as much seriousness and frustration you could muster, you shake your head.

 and he cowers. 

"sorry…" he mumbles, stepping away from you, almost ashamed. "i should've kept that to myself." 

you resist the urge to laugh. "yes, maybe you should have." 

turning to go, you pat him on the arm lightly, feeling a little bad for him. "see you around in class, okay?" 

he nods, eyes cast to the floor gloomily, and you're about to exit and head back to the main room when he calls your name. 

"y/n?"

"yes?" 

"i meant it." 

"what?" 

"i meant it when i said i was serious about fucking you." quietly, and with surprising gentleness, "i wouldn't lead you on like that. i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it." 

and as you turn your back on the pretty boy in the hallway, you couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to burst into life in your chest at his words.

x

the second time you meet haechan, you're explaining your assignment to him in class, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

the third time, he keeps up an endless stream of compliments for you as he walks you back to your apartment to get ready for your date (with heavy insinuations that he could treat you better, the entire time). 

after that, you sort of lose count. from a name told to you by your professor, to the boy who couldn't seem to stand without your help at the party, he slipped into your life with no intention of leaving. 

"i'm frustrated because i WANT to fuck you-" 

no intention of leaving, no intention of changing, at all. 

his words come out louder than you expect, ringing out in the silence of the library. he's practically raising his voice, the aggravation plain and clear as his words escalate in pitch. embarrassingly, people studying at the adjacent tables start to look over at you two, drawn by haechan's distinctive tone of voice, wondering what the campus resident himbo-heartthrob could be saying. 

and he's still talking.

interrupting him with a loud shushing sound, you grab his arm and haul him out of his seat. he stumbles a little over his steps as he follows you obediently out of the library, the rant momentarily cut off. 

the moment the two of you burst out of the library doors, he's seizing you by your arms, his expression eager and delighted. 

"my place? i don't think my roommate's home, and there's this toy i want-" 

"lee haechan." your jaw drops. you seem to be doing a lot of that when you're around him. 

breathless, his eyes shine with delight. "yeah?" 

you almost don't want to ask. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?" 

"you're ready to fuck right now?" his expression falls when he finally reads yours, taking in your stony glare and the hard set of your jaw. "oh. i did something wrong, didn't it?"

"haechan…" you can't decide what to start with. 

"wait, i'm sorry-" he blurts out, letting go of you. "i shouldn't have grabbed you…"

"you shouldn't have raised your voice in a library!" 

"i'm SORRY-" gulping, he tries to make his voice smaller. "i just got really excited…" 

"when you are in small spaces, you use your 'inside voice', okay?" 

"my…" he gulps. "inside voice?" 

"your inside voice means a volume level only meant for you," you point. "and me, the person you are talking to." you point at yourself. 

"why?" 

"do you want the whole library to know you want to fuck me?" 

"i don't mind." a beat. "wait, fuck- wrong answer. no, i don't." he shakes his head firmly. "no." 

"exactly." you let out a breath. "so please, the next time you want to have this discussion, make sure you're not announcing it for the entire student population, okay?" 

he opens his mouth, but then quickly shuts it. a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he buries his face in his hands, sweater covering his palms up to his fingers. 

you sigh. "what is it, haechan?"

"i don't want to say," he whispers. 

"why?" 

"you'll get really angry at me." chastised, he bites his lip. and then, quieter, "i'm sorry i embarrassed you."

"welll…you didn't really embarrass me,” you mumble. "haechan…"

a muffled sound. 

"am i actually just being really mean to you? you can be honest-" you add, seeing something flicker in his eyes as he removes his hands from his face. "i won't get mad." 

"you're kind of mean…" he hesitates. "but i really like it. because i know it means you care about me." 

your heart warms. 

"and also because i find it really hot," he continues, unabashedly. "like…a part of me wants to push you until you freak out on me. but also the other part of me just wants to be good for you, you know?" 

you stare at him. his hair falling lazily on his forehead, a breathless and windswept look to him as if his own desire was physically stealing his breath away from his lungs. you'd noticed before how his eyes were always watery with some sort of emotion, his long lashes gently tangling and untangling, meeting his blushy skin. his pouty lips… forming your name. 

"fuck…i should have kept that to myself, right?" he tilts his head, blinking purposefully at you. "y/n?" 

you clear your throat. "it's fine." another pause, as you wonder how you can draw the conversation back to something less intimate, because the way he's looking at you — as if he wants to dive into your soul just by looking into your eyes, — was making you regret ever dragging him out of the library. "um…" sex. talk about sex. "so…you were going to use a toy for our first time together?" 

caught off guard, he gapes at you, trying to recall where he let slip his plans for the night. "i…" he blinks. "how did you know? did i tell you?"

he's adorable. pressing on, you try to bring back the tone of defiance in your voice. "couldn't make me cum all by yourself? are you really that unconfident?" 

from the way he's tonguing the inside of his cheek, you know you've successfully switched the tone. "princess…" his voice is slow and patronising. "don't talk about things you don't understand." you don't think you've ever heard him speak like that, cockiness dripping from every syllable. is this the haechan that everyone else knew? 

"i don't-" 

"i saw the way you were looking at me just now…" eyes fluttering, he slouches closer to you and you back away on instinct. the movement makes him smile. "you think i'm pretty, just like everyone else does, hm?" 

it takes everything in you to roll your eyes, stepping further away from him as if it would break the spell. "you're so full of yourself." 

"and you like it." at the look on your face, he backpedals instantly, the confidence draining from him in an instant as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "right…sorry. you're still seeing someone." he doesn't even try to hide the bitterness in his tone.  

a moment passes.

"let's just… go get dinner," you suggest, lightly. he nods distractedly, hooking a hand around your bag strap and lazily tugging it onto his shoulder, something he likes to do for you. 

the walk to the restaurant is only a few minutes, and it's only when you reach that he speaks up again. 

"y/n?" 

"yeah?" 

"he….he makes you happy, right?" 

"huh?"

"the guy you're seeing." he swallows, fingers curling tighter around your bag unconsciously. "you're happy with him, right?" 

biting your lip, you nod slowly. "i guess."

if he can sense your hesitance, he doesn't press — body relaxing considerably as he nods to himself too. "then that's all that matters." 

and he reaches over to hold the door open for you, face bright and happy again as he patiently waits for you to enter first. 

x

haechan, 11.00pm: i hope you got a kiss today  you, 11.00pm: what haechan, 11.01pm: idk you just looked really pretty today and i really wanted to kiss you you, 11.01pm: so that's why you were looking at me like that  haechan, 11.01pm: yeah but i can't kiss you so  haechan, 11.01pm: i hope you got a kiss somehow…

haechan, 11.12pm: so did you?  you, 11.12pm: did i what? haechan, 11.12pm: did you get a kiss  haechan, 11.12pm: WAIT  haechan, 11.12pm: don't tell me  haechan, 11.12pm: i'll get sad you, 11.12pm: okay haechan, 11.12pm: okay what?  you, 11.13pm: okay, i won't tell you haechan, 11.13pm: fuck  haechan, 11.13pm: i want you so bad… you, 11.13pm: HAECHAN  haechan, 11.13pm: TYPO sorry sorry  you, 11.13pm: you can't typo a whole phrase haechan, 11.13pm: yes you can… i just did…

x

for someone who doesn't always know what he's talking about, haechan loves to talk. a lot. 

"you're going to sleep? already?" even in the low quality image on your phone screen, you can see the crestfallen look on his face. 

"we both have an early class tomorrow." 

"we can take turns sleeping in that class…like we did last week…" 

accusatorily, you jab a finger at your phone camera, causing his nose to scrunch in alarm as if you were really there, backing away from his screen. "you slept for a whole two hours that time!" 

"i-" sulking, he rolls over on his side, face half smushed against the bed. "i'll do better this time." 

"we can always talk tomorrow," you soothe, getting comfortable in your own bed and holding up your phone a little higher so the angle didn't look so bad on videocall.

although it was ridiculous, you couldn't help but feel insecure at how pretty he looked all the time, even when it was 2 in the morning and his voice was low and scratchy, or when he just woke up and his hair stuck out in all sorts of ways…his eyes never stopped sparkling in the terribly endearing way, his skin looking soft under the warm lights of his room. 

"but i want to talk to you now…" he says, softly. 

"okay…what about?" 

"i don't know…" still in the same soft voice that drives you crazy, he blinks tiredly at his screen. "anything…i guess…" 

"um…what did you have for dinner?" 

you can't help but let out a laugh when he whines loudly in annoyance "i mean deep stuff. stuff you wouldn't tell anyone else." 

"you think of something then!"

"wait-" a look passes over his face, you can literally see the idea hitting him, the flickering of a lightbulb over his head: he sits up, animated, and starts pulling his laptop onto his lap. "give me a second." he's typing furiously on his keyboard, nose scrunched in concentration. 

"you don't even type this seriously in class," you accuse, half-heartedly. when he doesn't respond, you raise your voice a little. "haechan? what are you doing?" 

"nothing." he turns his attention back to the phone screen, and beams at you with a brightness that catches you off guard. "just had an assignment that i forgot to submit." 

"um…okay…"

"but i have my ideas for the questions now-" he continues, his words coming out rushed from the blatant excitement in his tone. "so let's start." 

"why are you so…eager?" suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "are the questions sex-related? you perv…" 

"no," he shakes his head vehemently, "i swear, they're not. i just…" and suddenly he's shy, biting at his puffy lips, and even in the dim glow of the room you can see the flush in his cheeks. "i just want to get to know you more…" 

"okay…" 

"okay, let's start." he clears his throat.

 "given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?" 

"what the fuck?" you gape at him. out of all the things he could have asked you, there was no way you would have thought of this. "haechan, are you trying to get me to do some assignment for you?" 

"i'm genuinely curious-" he tries to defend himself, a hint of a whine making its way into his voice. "i mean, i can go first if you need more time to think…" 

"i don't think i've ever heard you use the word 'whom'." 

"now that's just mean…" pouting, his eyes go round and sad, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, but when he nibbles on your lips you feel your breath catch in your throat. 

fuck. stumbling over your words, you rush, "uh…i can answer i guess." 

his eyes crinkle into a smile. "okay, who?" 

"um…probably that researcher guy who we're doing our assignment on. then i can just ask him all the questions and cite him as the source and we would be done."

"that's a good answer," he says, encouragingly. 

"okay…so who would you want as a dinner guest?" 

"you," he says, immediately. 

"haechan, this isn't going to be fun if your questions are all set up as lines…" 

"i'm serious…" and he is – there's no hint of any rehearsed expression on his face. "i only ever want to see you." and then, smiling, he shifts around happily on his seat on the bed. "okay! next question…" 

x

"what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 

"how many questions do you have?" 

"i don't know… i'm making these up as i go along," he shrugs. "so, what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 

you think about it, for a second. "i think my perfect day would be really simple, and everything would just go right. i would wake up early, there wouldn't be a queue at the cafe for breakfast, i get to class with my coffee-" 

"which class?" 

"uh… our class?" 

"okay, good," a small smile playing on his lips. "and then?" 

"and then…i can answer all your questions in class, and afterwards we go to the library and miraculously we can get something done…" you think back to a few evenings you've had where you've genuinely, really, been happy. "we get hotpot for dinner and we get a huge discount, and i go back home and fall asleep really easily." 

haechan is smiling so hard you want to ask him if his cheeks hurt. 

"what's so funny?" 

"it's funny…" he looks at you coyly. "that's my perfect day too." 

x

"number 10…" 

"motherfucker-" you sit up, startling haechan, who drops his phone. 

"wha-"

"you have a list of questions?" you wait for him to pick up his phone again before you point at the screen, savagely. you don't even have to look to know he's doing his cower again. "what happened to coming up with it as you go along? are these even your questions?" 

"y/n…" he shuffles around uncomfortably, picking at his bedspread. 

"how many questions are there in total?"

"36." his eyes widening, he backpedals. "actually, i don't know…um…it depends…" 

"i'm going to bed." 

"no we have to finish all 36 questions!" 

"we have to? why do we have to?" 

"please?" he looks up at you, and you should be used to it by now, used to the shifts in tone and the intensity of his emotions when his eyes meet yours, but still it makes your heart hammer a little harder every time. "please? i really just want to get to know you…" 

a pause. 

sighing, you lie back on your pillows again. "what's number 10?" 

x

"what roles do love and affection play in your life?" haechan lets out a yawn, rubbing his face against his comforter. 

the question wakes you up a little. you've kind of guessed that he was using a list of questions that would get increasingly intimate as they went on, but this one felt more direct than the others. and although so far you've been honest about everything, careless sometimes with your answer but never dishonest, you don't know how truthfully you should answer this time.

haechan blinks lazily at the screen. "um…" he rubs at his eyes, "i can go first. i think…love and affection are easy." 

the words feel like a punch to your gut. "really?" 

"yeah," he continues. "i mean, i'm affectionate with practically everyone i meet…and i'm not scared if i end up falling in love. i don't always know it when i'm in the moment…but i think i like how it feels," he adds, almost as an afterthought. 

"you like how what feels?" 

"being in love," he says, softly, looking at you with gentleness in his eyes. 

"but what if it doesn't end well?" you ask more for yourself than for him, and he answers as if it's the easiest thing in the world. 

"then it ends. but at least you were in love." tilting his head, he asks, "is it…not easy for you?" 

you can't find the words, so you shake your head. 

his brow furrows. "aren't you seeing someone right now?"

"yeah but i don't love him." he opens his mouth, so you add on quickly, "and he doesn't love me." 

"then you shouldn't be with him," he said, firmly.  things were always so simple when he outlined them. "you don't love each other, so you shouldn't waste your time together." 

"but he's not a bad person…" you have no idea why you're defending someone you don't even really care about. "he's generally nice to me…" 

"none of that matters if there's no love," he runs a hand through his hair, and that's when you realise that he's genuinely angry. "i didn't know you didn't love him. if i did, i would have talked to you about it ages ago…" 

"it's not so easy, haechan. it's not so easy to find someone who loves you back. sometimes, you just have to be grateful that someone is willing to spend time with you, grateful that they're not horrible-" 

he cuts you off with a frustrated sound. "i don't understand." rubbing his face with his hands, you hear him exhale shakily, the sound crackling in your earphones. 

"it's okay," you try to calm him, making your tone as light as possible. "these are just questions, right? we don't have to agree…" 

he settles down, but you can tell he's still lost in thought, his jaw clenched. "i guess." 

"which question are we on?" 

he checks his laptop screen. "21." 

"do you…want to keep going?" 

he nods, sighing one more time before focusing on you again. this time, you can tell he's managed to calm down, the gentleness returned to his demeanour. "i'm sorry. i'm really trying to understand what you mean, but maybe we're just different." 

"yeah…" affection and love did feel easy, even being friends with haechan. you think it's maybe become a part of your life that you couldn't live without — the little ways he took care of you, how he never hesitated to compliment you or defend you. "i want to be more like you, though." 

"huh?" 

"the thing about love and affection…" you mumble. "i want it to be as easy as it is for you." his eyes light up, and you hate how it immediately seems to lift a weight from your chest. 

x

it's strange that haechan's the one you turn to when things eventually fall apart. but at the same time, it makes perfect sense, because he's never once made you feel small for what you thought, or invalidated anything you've felt. 

you didn't even have to tell him. you had stumbled into class, numb from all your hurt, and the moment haechan raised his head to look at you, he just knew. 

"what's wrong?" he mouths, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he scans your surroundings, trying to figure out what could've done this to you. 

"i'll tell you later," you're barely able to whisper back as you slide into your seat next to him, eyes already filling with tears at how easy it was for haechan to read you. your heart warming from the urgency in his tone.

without hesitation, he leans over far in his seat to squeeze you into a hug. his lips ghosting over the crown of your hair, you can hear the worry in his voice even as he tries to reassure you. 

for the next 2 hours, he casts worried glances over at you, taking in the way you're barely listening, fingers ghosting over your keyboard and typing nothing. the lecture barely ends before he's reaching over to pack up for you, clumsy hands shuffling your papers into your folder the way he knows you like them, shouldering your backpack as he tugs you gently towards the door and out into the sun. 

he leads you to a quiet place on campus, and if you were a little less focused on yourself, you'd wonder if this was where he usually took his dates to kiss them. it's secluded and private, soft grass underneath your shoes as he guides you to a bench under a tree, sliding into a seat next to you and taking your hand in his immediately. 

on one of your study sessions together, the two of you had taken a love language quiz, and it was no surprise when his top love language showed up as physical touch, while yours showed up as words of affirmation. 

tears are slipping down your cheeks, and he pulls you into his arms — a gesture more for him than you but you melt into his touch all the same. his palms clumsily pat between your shoulder blades, his touch heavy as he strokes down your spine, rubbing at your shoulders as you try to stop from shaking. 

"do you want to talk about it?" he murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.

briefly, you consider not telling him, the thought of having to materialise everything with your words too painful to bear. but his voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that you feel he at least deserved to know why you were crying in his arms like this. 

"h-he took me to the party to make her jealous." 

his movements still. 

"i knew we didn't love each other…but i thought…i thought at least…he must've liked something in me, right?" 

he's at a loss for words as you cry harder into his shirt. 

"you don't have to say anything…" you reassure him. "i know it's stupid. i didn't even like him anyway, it just hurts my pride to think he never saw anything in me." 

"it's not stupid," he says, firmly. "you rejected me at that party for him, right? you've been rejecting me for weeks because of him." 

you nod into his chest. 

"you're not stupid." he declares. "he's the one who's wrong." and there it is again — the simplicity, the way everything was black and white with him. he was completely and wholly on your side, his hand diligently going back to stroke your hair, dipping his fingers to rub circles into the nape of your neck. 

"i'm surprised you're not being inappropriate right now." 

he doesn't respond at first, but his movements falter again. 

"i just really don't like seeing you hurt," he says, quietly. 

"oh." 

"wait, don't get me wrong, i think you look very pretty when you cry," he adds, sincerely. it makes you laugh, a little bit of the haechan you first met coming back. but he mistakes it for disbelief, tripping over his words to make you understand, raising his voice. "you really are, and you sound so pretty too-" 

wrapping your arms around his middle, you lean into his touch, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. "thanks, haechan." 

"it's just that…i don't like thinking that someone made you feel like this. it makes me feel…" his palm moves down to hold the side of your face delicately, fingers moving over your cheeks as he chooses his words. "it makes me feel really helpless. it reminds me i can't stop people from hurting you." 

his voice is small, and you can barely catch his words, but you feel like you've been slammed in the chest. you hesitate, wondering if you should press him further.

"why?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why does it make you feel helpless?" 

he huffs, frustrated. "because it does." 

he runs a hand through his hair as he rambles on. "i don't know why i don't like seeing you hurt. or why i don't like the idea of your shoulders being sore like mine are so i carry your things around for you everywhere. i don't know why i want to mark your neck but i don't ever want to see you bruised, or how i want to fuck you so badly, but also sometimes i get this feeling like… like i don't want to fuck you, i just –" he cuts himself off with a groan, tugging at his long hair desperately.

you don't reply. you can't trust your voice. 

so you ease yourself out of his hold, which had gotten increasingly tight. with a hand, you guide his hands down from his hair and into yours, and bring your other palm up to touch his face. he goes limp at your touch, leaning into you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

"why am i telling you this?" he whispers, eyes never leaving yours. 

"haechan-"

"you must think i'm pathetic." you feel his tears on your hand, hot and wet, before his breathing starts to pick up and soft whimpers rise from his throat. 

"don't say that." 

"i mean you," he gasps, words coming out in stuttered sounds. "y-you were the one who needed me to c-comfort you, and n-now i'm the one crying, and i…" he lets out a low sound, emotions overwhelming him all at once. "i really want to hurt the guy who made you feel like that." 

"haechan…" 

"where does he live? it'll only take 5 minutes i swear…" he swallows, hard. "i could take him in a fight, i saw him at the party…" 

"you're not going to get reported to campus police for him. he's not worth it." but you can tell your words are getting lost on him, his hands shaking as he fumbles them out of your grip, trying to intertwine your fingers. 

"i just need to do s-something right now," he breathes, hard. "anything. it hurts so bad, y/n. why does it hurt so much for me?" 

something about this — about him, calms you. the pain from before fading into a dull ache, and a new feeling swelling in your chest as you look at the boy in front of you. the feeling of being needed by someone grounding you, affection roaring in your ears as he leans into your touch, watching you like he was trying to decipher the thoughts buzzing like static in your mind. 

"take me home, haechan." 

he blinks up at you. 

"i want to go home," you whisper. 

and, drawing you into his arms, he does exactly that. 

he picks up your favourite ice cream on the drive home, and stays glued to your back on the elevator ride up. coddling you and cooing praises in your ear, tucking you into bed and drawing up a chair next to you as if you were ill. you ignore the fact that this was the first time you were indulging in his touch and it felt so right, the fact that he cried just because you did, for reasons he claimed not to know and you didn't want to admit. 

but as you watched him move around in your kitchen, putting away dishes from the dinner he made you — his broad frame stretching out his shirt, shoulder blades sharp under the warm light, you were met with the sinking feeling that the boy who was just out to fuck you might be out for something far worse.  

x

"i'm not setting you up with him," haechan's words come out in a blur. "okay? we're just walking to the party together." 

"yes, i'm aware of that. how many more times are you going to repeat this to me?" 

"haechan, why are you still hiding me behind your back?" 

"this is NOT a set-up!" he hisses, veins in his arms popping out as he keeps a firm grip on his friend, you presume, keeping him out of your sight. "i do NOT want you to like him, okay?" 

"okay haechan, i get it."

he looks at you, suspicious, but finally releases his hold, arms crossing over his chest instead as he scowls. "fine. y/n, this is my friend renjun." 

looking a little dishevelled, and very annoyed, renjun steps out from behind haechan. "hey." his face breaks into a sweet smile when he sees you, eyes brightening with recognition. "wait…were you in that statistics course from last semester?" 

"yeah i was! were you the one who did the project on social psychology? i thought it was so smart…"

"i had a lot of help with it," he beams back. "actually, i have more resources on the topic if you'd like them." 

"SHE DOESN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU." 

haechan's voice abruptly booms out in the middle of the street, making you and renjun jump. the handful of people passing by turn their heads to look at your trio, making shame burn low in your stomach as you wince apologetically. haechan's face is flushed, hands curled into fists by his side, a glare fixed upon renjun as if he were his worst enemy.

"haechan!" you whisper, annoyed. "did we not practice using our inside voice?" 

"fuck the inner voice!" he hisses back at you with equal venom, tugging you closer to him and away from renjun. his face screwed up, he jabs a finger at him. "she's not gonna fuck you dude. lay off her." 

renjun is looking back and forth between you and haechan, a knowing look settling onto his face as he meets haechan's frown with an easy smile. 

"don't worry about it, man. she's all yours." 

"yeah, that's right, she's mine," haechan repeats, savagely, before the words coming out of his mouth seem to take him by surprise. confused, he looks over at you, trying to figure out what exactly he just said. "wait…fuck i mean…um…"

"you know what? i'm going to go ahead first," renjun interrupts, giving you a small wave. "see you at  jaemin's."

"YEAH, GO AWAY RENJUN." 

"sorry," you mumble, now trying to free yourself from haechan's tight grip on your arm which he doesn't even seem to be aware of. 

"word of advice," renjun mutters to you, pointedly ignoring the way haechan was hissing at him. "pull on his hair. it shuts him up real fast." 

it's when you finally manage to pry his fingers off of you when haechan is brought back down to earth, throwing a venomous look at renjun's retreating back as he lets go of you reluctantly. 

you round on him. "well?" 

"w-well what?" he mumbles, looking away, acting out a textbook portrayal of guilty.  

you narrow your eyes at him, and some part of you is happy to see him gulp in fear like he usually does. "what do you have to say for yourself?" 

"i'm not the problem here," he mutters. "it's renjun. he's such a sleaze."

"renjun? a sleaze?" you laugh before you can stop yourself. "you're more of a sleaze than he is on a regular day." 

"ME?" he bursts out, head snapping to you. at least this time, the people in your vicinity seem to be used to the outbursts, and they don't bother to turn to look. "I'M NOT…that's not…" and then he's whipping out his phone, biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn close together as he scrolls through whatever's he's looking at.

you sigh. "haechan, what are you doing?" 

"immoral…corrupt…sordid…" he raises his voice again. "fuck google definitions. why is it that none of these words mean what i think sleaze means?" 

"could you not change the subject?" you start, but he talks over you. 

"yeah," he emphasises, viciously. "you're right. see, i just wanted to expand your social circle, it's not my fault renjun was making eyes at you," 

"he wasn't-" 

"he was about to invite you over,"

"did you hallucinate-"

"that's so…so insensitive, like couldn't he just take a hint? and you were wearing your fuck-me skirt today-"

"i do NOT have a fuck-me skirt-"

"no it's a fuck haechan skirt that's what it is, because whenever i see you in it i-"

"will you shut up?" annoyed, you reach around to the back of his neck, and tug harshly on his long hair, really hoping to make it hurt. 

you expect him to stop talking, maybe cry out in pain. 

you're not expecting his knees go weak as he lets out an achy, high-pitched moan that shudders through his entire body.

x

"hey, haechan's quiet today!" jaemin points out, cheerfully. "y/n, could you pass me the pepper?" 

putting on a smile, you pass the shaker over to him. "we had an argument on the way here, that's probably why." 

"you two should fight more," jaemin says, before taking a sip of his soup. "dinner's almost over and he's barely made a sound."

renjun just smiles to himself.

"what. the fuck." 

haechan's still gasping for breath, and when you raise your hand absentmindedly, his arms shoot up quickly to protect his head. "don't-!" 

"i'm not going to do it again." 

"okay good." his arms fall to his side, before he's looking at you with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "wait…like…never?" 

you narrow your eyes. 

"y/n, can you come with me please?" haechan is looking at you urgently, leg bouncing as he tugs on your sleeve. "i want to talk to you in private." 

sighing, you excuse yourself from the table, letting haechan tug you away from the living room and into what looks like an empty guest room.

clicking the door shut, he sits down on the bed, patting the space next to him impatiently to get you to join him. 

"what's wrong?" 

"i want to ask you something." there's a sincerity in the way he reaches takes your hand, his voice steady, and calm, and sure. 

"okay…" 

"i've been good this past week, right?" he watches your face closely, looking for an answer. "like…i wanted to show you i care, and i wanted to take care of you and help you forget…your breakup…" 

"you've been really good to me, haechan," you affirm quietly. because he has. 

"and i've kept my thoughts to myself," he adds. "because…you told me to do that…" 

"yeah."

"do you…" he struggles with the words. "do you want me to keep…keeping my thoughts to myself? like, does it make you really uncomfortable…" he looks like he's in physical pain, brows furrowed in concentration.

"no, it doesn't…" you admit, feeling a little exposed. 

"what about…so if…" he twists at his fingers. "so if i…made a move…like the first time we met at the party…would you…?" 

"i think i would." looking away, feeling that the room was suddenly burning hot, you mumble out, "so you don't have to worry about holding back or-"

"-good, because i've been hard ever since you pulled on my hair." 

he's getting that look again, lips parted and swollen. he slides a hand around your waist, the weight of his body leaning on yours feeling all too familiar. only this time, there was no one and nothing you could put between yourself and the raw need that was in every fibre of his being. always brutally honest about how much he wanted you, looking at you with eyes that could swallow you whole. and now that there was no one else, you were free falling right into him.

your voice is scratchy with nerves. "do you want me to do it again?" 

"to be very honest, it kind of kills the mood when you ask," he mumbles, now pressing the pads of his fingers under your shirt and into your soft skin. 

laughing, you slide your hands up his neck and into his hair again, relishing in the way his body tenses and his breaths start to come shallow and fast. curling your fingers around the strands, you pull on them softly, increasing in pressure as he throws his head back. 

"fuck," he pants, hands moving quickly now, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "wanted this since the day i saw you." 

well at least he's honest. hesitating slightly, you grasp his wrists gently to stop his movements. "haechan…you know this is me giving you permission right?" 

"huh?" his eyes cloudy, he struggles slightly against you, hands still trying to reach for your skin. "i mean…yeah…"

"so after this, we'll figure something out?" you look at him hopefully, trying to meet his eyes which were currently darting around, scanning your body haphazardly. until you let out a gasp, because somehow he's overpowered you — pushing you onto the bed roughly, his hands now gripping your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, the other resting heavy on your hip. 

"you talk too much," he says, lowly. swiftly pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he bites down on your shoulder next, and you hiss at the sting. in retaliation, you manage to release one of your hands from his grip, giving his hair a sharp tug — making him rut his hips into yours. 

"me? what about you?" you tease, breathless as he grinds into you, "with all your talk…all your thoughts, i kind of expected more…but you're whining and we've barely touched."

at that, he stills. 

he still has you pinned down by his weight on your torso, and above you, you can see the way his eyes darken, wheels in his head turning. 

"you're right," he says, quietly. releasing your hands, he crawls off of you to kneel on the bed by your feet, rough hands pulling at his belt. 

"r-right…about what?" now he wasn't lying on you, you felt a coldness travel through your body, making you crave his touch. sitting up to look at him, you swallow as he kicks off his pants. 

he wasn't lying about being hard. his cock looked thick and heavy in his palm as he squeezed his shaft, letting out a sigh. 

"haechan, what are you doing…?"

spitting in his hand, he starts tugging at his cock, slow and teasing strokes as he shifts his hips around in pleasure, settling his weight back on his heels as he hums. 

you place your hands on his thighs, shifting towards him, but with a speed and agility you rarely saw he grabbed both your wrists in his free hand, holding on to them tightly so you couldn't shake free. "you don't get to touch," he gasps, another moan ripping from his throat as his fingers press into his slit. 

"haechan," alarmed, you try to crawl over to him but his grip on your wrists holds you at a distance, pushing you back. the sounds he's making go straight to your core, high-pitched moans, drawn out and achy, gulping gasps of air between each one as if he was struggling to breathe. his hand speeding up, moving like a blur, swivelling his wrist and thumbing at a spot just below the blunt pink tip. precum dribbling out all over his hand as he starts to thrust his hips into the circle of his fist. 

"please," you rub your thighs together, pain and pressure building up in your core. his eyes, half-lidded and sultry, slide over to you almost lazily. 

"wait your turn, princess," he groans, mocking you with a whiny "ah…ah-" at the end. 

you're so frustrated you could cry. 

his whines and whimpers escalate in pitch, broken gasps and pants filling the air, and you can't wait for him to cum so it'll be your turn…

except suddenly he's letting go of his cock, a groan rumbling through his chest as it slaps up against his lower belly. 

a beat.

"did you like the show?" 

"you didn't cum," you mumble, dumbly. 

"i didn't think you deserved to see that yet." he releases your wrists. "see, that was your punishment." 

"for?" 

"for rejecting me for over a month even though i knew you wanted it." effortlessly pulling you into his lap, he smiles as he guides a hand under your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh with his sticky fingers. "sometimes when you look at me…i just know you're dripping wet in your panties."

"i'm not-"

"should we check?" he pulls at the seat of your panties, swiping his fingers on your folds. your thighs clamp shut on his hands, sensitive, and he laughs. "thought so." 

he traces light touches on your clit, alternating between rubbing circles and stroking gently. he brushes his fingers over your entrance and you crumble, grinding into his hand as you try to manoeuvre your hips closer to where his cock lies against his tummy. 

"so cute," he murmurs, pushing a careful finger into you, smiling to himself when you let out a soft moan. stroking against your walls, he adds another, starting to stretch you out as you rock your hips into his. his nose nuzzles at your neck, and you discover that all those times he's spent analysing the juncture between your jaw and your shoulder have paid off, because he finds your sweet spot in record time, his puffy lips mumbling against your skin and making you shake all over. 

"you're going to have to be a little quieter, baby," he says, gently. "don't want them hearing you outside." he adds another finger, humming delightedly at how you suck them in. 

"you-" you gasp, "but you were so, fuck, loud just now…"

"i don't care if they hear me." he starts fucking his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of your core with loud wet sounds, his thumb applying pressure to your clit that makes your thighs tremble. "i know i sound good. you should record me next time, baby." 

your brain has gone foggy. this is the haechan that still pushed at the pull door to your lecture hall, the one you've been going to for almost half a year. this is the haechan who hid behind his hands when you would get mad at him, then would beg for you to keep going, i'm memorising this for later. 

this was the haechan…who was currently moaning softly in your ear, a sound so saturated with lust that it takes your breath away, and makes you release all over his hand. 

x

as it turns out, haechan isn't really into edging unless he wants to make a point. 

he's far more interested in overstimulation, as he makes you cum 3 times on the guest room bed. and he cums twice himself from fucking you. 

with intense concentration, he cleans up for you and tucks you into bed, worried eyes making sure you're okay. when he watches the way you walk, unsteadily, to turn off the light, he slides to his knees and freckles kisses all over your thighs and hips, murmuring apologies into your skin, torn between gloating and grovelling. 

"jaemin's okay with us staying," he whispers into the dark. and then, with unfiltered dreamy happiness… "i'm so happy i'm going to wake up next to you tomorrow."

your heart melts and dissolves as you reach for him, nuzzling into his chest. it's because you're so close that you hear the rumble of his sigh through his chest. "haechan?"

"hm?" 

"i don't want to confuse you…" 

pause. and then, quietly, "you always say that before you confuse me."

you sit up, his arms falling to your waist. 

"haechan…" 

"you look like an angel," he looks at you through his lashes, doll-like features pretty in the moonlight. when he realises he's caught you off guard, he continues, his drowsy, honeyed voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he appeals to you. "go to sleep, angel. i'll fuck you awake in the morning, i promise…" 

"don't try to seduce me, haechan. i want to talk about this." 

"worth a shot," he mumbles. "look, i don't know if you think i'm joking when i tell you i want you," his eyes flicker to the sheets as he tries to outline his thoughts. "but i already promised since day 1 that i wasn't leading you on." he sighs when you still look unconvinced.

"tell me what you're thinking, angel." he reaches for your hand, and presses a small kiss on your palm, guiding your fingers to cup his face. "give me a hint."

"question 21," you remind him. 

love and affection. understanding blooms on his face.

"what about it?" 

"i'm scared," you confess. 

"what are you scared of, angel?" he tilts his face to the side but his eyes never leave yours. "you want me, and i…and i…" he sits up a little so he can pull you down to him. you think you kissed him just now, but this one feels like the first time — his mouth moving gently on yours, suckling on your lip, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, and the light sigh he lets out like he just tasted something sweet. he kisses you like he's just realised he has all the time in the world to, with no urgency, only the sweet indulgence of a boy who finally has what he wants right in his arms. 

"don't be scared," he whispers into your mouth when you break apart. "i'm serious about you."

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you ask, timidly. 

haechan looks up at you, the angel in his bed, and takes in the tension in your shoulders, the way you're holding your breath. 

if haechan was bad at homework, bad at assignments and impressing his professors, bad at reading the room and keeping his voice under control, there were things he was good at from experience. 

like how to tilt his face to showcase the pretty moles on his skin, how to pitch his voice like it was straight out of a filthy dream, and how to read people's body language to know what they wanted. how to read you.

"serious about whatever you're ready for," he says, gently. "affection, or love."

a moment passes. then another. then another. 

"haechan?" 

"yes?" 

"were you serious about fucking me awake tomorrow morning?"

x

"haechan, this is really, really bad." 

"i know." he exhales shakily, the sound amplified through your laptop speakers. "fuck, shit, i know." 

leaning forward to look at your laptop screen, you swipe back to the open tab you have of the document for your project. "how did you delete everything? and why can't it be restored?" 

"i don't-" a muffled choking sound. "i don't know." 

"i don't even want to tell you to stop crying," you say bitterly. "cry harder. it won't fix this." 

a strangled sound, barely audible over the music playing on his end. 

you swipe back to your zoom call with haechan. ever since you started giving in to haechan's relentless begging, it's been a lot harder for both of you to focus on your assignment. 

specifically, the number of times he's fingered you in the library or fucked you on his lap in his desk chair were now too many to count. 

so you've resorted to meeting up over video-call, using your laptops to provide a greater sense of occasion and to make it clear that these were meetings to do work. so far, they've been working out fine, but today he joined the call with his camera turned off, and only a guilty, shaking, voice told you to check the google drive, and please don't be mad. 

"so?" you don't bother to hide your anger, or to coddle him like you usually would. "are you going to fix this?" 

"dunno…" he gasps, whimpering when you roll your eyes. "dunno…fuck…dunno how…"

you tilt your webcam so you can really look into it, hoping that it's making him feel worse. judging by the wail he lets out, it does. 

"turn on your camera so i can see you," you snap. "and turn off the music. i want to hear you cry."

a muffled, guttural, sound. 

"really?" he sniffles, a loud sob crackling like static out of your speakers. "you w-want to…t-to see me…c-cry?" 

"don't play mind games with me, lee haechan," you warn. "i'm really fucking mad at you." 

"y-yeah?" he gulps, and you can hear it. 

"i'm so mad i could hit you right now." and you hear a sound of pain, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. 

"i wannit," he groans. "want you to hit me."

"forgot you were a masochist," you grumble, sarcastically. "how are you still in the mood to make jokes like that when we're going to fail?" 

he's panting, and a part of you starts to worry. is he hyperventilating? "i dunno, i'm sorry-" he gasps, voice raising in pitch. 

"haechan?" the anger hasn't completely faded from your voice. you're met with a hiccup, cut off by a wracking sob. switching tact, you make your voice go gentle, babying him the way you usually do to get him to do anything right. "turn off the music and turn on the camera for me."

he's still breathing heavily as you hear the sounds of fumbling, his phone falling to the floor as it disconnects from his speaker. silence fills the call, a tension so thick in the air as he pants into his microphone, and you hear his hands skid across the keyboard. 

you freeze when he turns on the camera. 

the background is different from your usual work calls. you see the headboard of his bed, an array of pillows propped up behind him as he slouches against them. but unlike your usual late-night calls, the laptop isn't balanced on his knees so that you can only see his face. 

its on the bed between his legs, giving you a full picture of his tear streaked face, the beautiful skin of his upper body, the jumping muscles in his thighs, and his thick weeping cock held in his veiny fist. 

he moans when he sees himself on camera, resuming his movements and watching himself carefully through tear-soaked eyelashes. 

"what the fuck?" you whisper, and he lets out a whiny sob, hand moving faster over his length. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?" your voice grows stronger as you watch his other hand close around his neck, choking back his sounds. "what the fuck?" his hand is dragging up his neck, he's slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, drool dripping down his wrist. "lee haechan!" you press your thighs together, trying not to let the scene get to you, but it was no use.

"love it when you-" he gasps, hips bucking into his hand. "get mad at me. i told you…ah, ah…you're so fucking hot when you're mad." he wipes the drool off his chin messily, and reaches down to stroke himself with both hands. 

"you're unbelievable," you snap, feeling your own hands drift to your thighs.

"and i…and i kept this thought to myself…" he moans, hand ghosting over his nipple as he whimpers. "but i always thought you looked like a camgirl when we call like this."

"yeah?" fuck it. you give in, crossing over to your bed. feigning indifference, you place the laptop on your sheets in front of you as you settle down and shrug off your sweatpants, grateful you had chosen to wear the white lace panties he liked. 

"mmhm," he hasn't noticed you yet, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "i came when you tilted the camera down…wanted see your tits so bad…" 

"if i was a camgirl, would you watch?" you slip your hand into your panties and let out a sigh, watching his cock twitch in his palm. missing the weight of it in your hand, on your thigh, and in you. 

"fuck yeah." 

"then why aren't you watching, baby?"

he moves so fast it's almost comical — eyes shooting open, he straightens to look at his laptop screen. the moment he sees you with your hand between your legs, panties so wet they were transparent, he cums, hard, thick globs of white cum oozing out of his tip as his legs tremble and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he lets out a series of moans reminiscent of the filthiest hentai porn. 

"was that your second time, hm?" you moan, the sight of him making you rub against your clit even faster, your hips rocking into your hand. 

"third," he squeezes his cock again, pain darting across his face as he releases it, letting it soften against his thigh. "y/n… take them off please…"

"take what off?" you push a finger into you, sliding your other hand up your top to graze your nipples under your camisole. he whimpers at the sight. 

"everything…" his eyes cloudy and desperate, his cheeks flushed so read you'd be worried he was running a fever. "wanna see you…" 

you're focused completely on your own pleasure, your heart soaring to see him so completely fucked out before you. 

"haechan…" you try to keep your voice under control, try to hide that you were close. you just wanted to see how far he'd go. "if you're my baby boy, then what should you call me?" you pinch your nipples, letting out a gasp. the sheets feel silky against your skin as your legs kick in pleasure, your hand still working in between your legs.

haechan's breathing picks up. when you look down at your screen, he's touching himself again, squeezing the base of his cock. his mouth falls open as you see his lashes flutter, rolling back into his head as he mouths the words. 

whimpering, his lip wobbles as he looks at you on the screen. 

"mommy," he moans, again and again, until you both climax, and you're no longer sure if he's saying it for you or himself.

x

haechan takes your words to heart. like, he really takes your words to heart. 

when you tell him off-handedly that leather jackets look good on him, he buys 3 of the same and never wears any other jacket again. when you painstakingly teach him how to add a footnote to his document, he scrawls the steps down on a post-it and nudges you for validation each time he finishes a page, blinking at you like a puppy needing a treat. which is why he treats his rom-com watching sessions with you very seriously. 

"so it's bad that he didn't ask her out properly?" 

"yes," you nod, enthusiastically. "really bad. he shouldn't assume that she's interested and just act like he has a place in her life now — he has to earn it." 

"right, yeah, fuck him," he growls, scrawling on his notebook. 

you peek over at what he's doing — he's added 'not officially asking her out' on the 'no' list. 

"are you sure the double negative won't confuse you?" 

"the what?"

"nevermind." 

reaching for the popcorn, you peer at the screen. "oh, and that's a good thing." 

"where?" his head shoots up, and he squints at the screen. "what?" 

"see, he asked 'can i kiss you'?' playfully, you glare at him. "you rarely ask for anything." 

"that's not true…" he grumbles. "i asked you if i was making you uncomfortable…" 

"yeah, that was one time…" 

"i asked if i could eat you out last wednesday…" 

"that wasn't asking that was sweet-talking." 

"well can we fuck now?" he blurts out. running a hand through his hair, he tosses his notebook to the side. 

a pause. 

"well?" he raises his eyebrows. 

"uh, okay…"

"was that asking or sweet-talking? oh-" and for some reason, he blushes when he registers your response. "you said yes." 

fuck. "yeah, i guess." you place the popcorn down on the bedside table, feeling shy.

"well, as you wish, princess," he whispers conspiratorially, crawling over to you to pull you in for a kiss. 

"see," you mumble against his lips. "you didn't ask…"

"oh, fuck, yeah sorry." breaking away from you, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand. "re-do, re-do. um…" he lowers his head. 

"okay you don't have to re-do it i was just pointing it out…" 

"can i kiss you, angel?" 

you freeze.

he really was too pretty for his own good, his hair falling over his eyes, the ethereal flush to his cheeks. 

"yes, please," you mumble, and he surges towards you, pressing his tongue into yours and running his electric touch down your spine. 

"can i take your clothes off, angel?" 

you murmur your consent as he smiles wide, helping you out of your clothes but lightly slapping your hands away when you reach to do your bra. 

"this is my favourite part," he sighs, as he unhooks the clasps from behind your back, hooking a careless finger around a strap and pulling the lacy piece off of you, wetting his lips when he sees your breasts. 

"can i suck on your boobs?" 

"god, haechan-" he giggles as he takes one in his mouth, teeth lightly grazing on it from his smile. his hand comes up to the other one and he ghosts his touch over it, before deciding better and squeezing it roughly in his palm. 

kissing down your stomach, he reaches the band of your panties with a smile. 

"are you going to ask if you can take them off, haechan." 

"i was gonna ask if i could eat you out," he murmurs against your skin, kitten licking your inner thighs and sending chills up your spine. 

swallowing hard, you nod. "yes." 

nosing at your clothed clit, he sucks the seat of your panties into his mouth, lips puckered in an adorable way if he wasn't literally trying to suck it off your skin. 

"haechan…you can take them off," you say, weakly, feeling heat pool in your navel. 

"mmhm…" he says, both hands winding around your thighs to grip onto the fabric of your panties. "or i could do this." with one harsh movement he's ripping them off of you, holding the pieces of cloth in his hands gleefully as he plunges forward and sucks harshly on your folds.

"haechan," you half-moan, half shout. "why did you do that…" 

"i'm sorry, baby," he flattens his tongue and laps at you, flicking his tongue against your clit. "i'll buy you new sets, i'll buy you as many sets as you want…" stiffening his tongue, his prods at your entrance and tries to reach as far into you as he can, licking at your walls, his nose bumping into your clit as he tilts his head this way and that. 

the pleasure increases tenfold when he starts moaning, and you finally come to your senses enough to see how he's humping the bed, his hips moving in time with the way he was licking at you. "taste so sweet," he moans. "cum on my face, angel. fuck…" he whines obscenely, hips moving faster against the sheets as he shoves two fingers into you, making your back arch. "can you cum for me?" 

you let your orgasm crash into you, the pleasure burning through you and making you go lightheaded. haechan is whimpering and moaning, and you realise you have your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him away from your core and making his neck crane up. you almost let go before you remember that he likes it, so you pull a little harder and watch the way his hips stutter against the bed, achy moans filling the air as he cums. 

"sorry," he gasps, "fuck, sorry…" he crumples into your arms. "it felt so good…i couldn't help myself." 

"it's okay…" you still when you feel something prod at your entrance. "haechan-" but you're cut off by a loud moan, as haechan pushes his softening cock into you. "haechan, are you sure-"

"hurts," he moans. "but it'll feel better soon, it'll feel…fuck fuck fuck," his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, as if he can't decide whether to stop or go harder. "just a bit more…" he mumbles to himself. 

deciding to help him, you smooth your hands down his chest and wrap your legs around him. he loves it when you cling to him during sex, he's told you openly, and he bites back another sigh as the pain seems to dissipate into raw pleasure again. 

"just a bit more, baby," you murmur in his ear. he hiccups, nodding as he starts to pound into you in earnest, slapping sounds echoing in the room as his cock abuses the one spot inside you that makes you see stars. stretched out and filled by him, you rock your hips into his too, feeling his thick cock bulge inside you.

"can i cum in you, please?" he asks, softly, painfully. from where he lies on top of you, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes watery from the overstimulation, you could never say no to him. he cums when you do, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being too much to bear, and he slumps in your arms, hips still pulsing against yours until you physically push him and he slips out of you.

haechan takes your words to heart. when you tell him to ask for permission, he does it throughout aftercare — asking for permission to run you a bath, to make you tea, to pull you closer in bed. and as you let his eyes meet yours, his gaze seeping into your pupils and making your mind go hazy, you wonder if he takes your words so seriously that he'll never consider moving from the affection you asked for, to the love you were too scared to want.

x

"did you forget something at my place?" 

"no." a pause. "if i did, it would be too late because i'm almost home."

"then why are you calling?" 

"because i'm cold, and my shoes are wet, and it's all your fault." he huffs petulantly, his words muffled by a pout you can imagine vividly in your mind's eye. "because you wouldn't let me stay the night." 

"haechan," you started. "i already told you i have really bad insomnia…" he grumbles to himself and you think you can hear him mocking your tone. "i really need to sleep for tomorrow because i have that test-" 

"oh yeah?" he bites back, annoyance clear in his tone. "and how's your sleeping going huh? are you talking to me in your sleep now?" 

you make an incredulous sound. "if anything you should be kinder to me since i evidently can't sleep right now-"

"you know i could have just fucked you right?"

what the fuck. the sound of footsteps on gravel crunch on even louder, anger evident in the way he's practically stomping his way back to his apartment. 

"haechan…what?" 

"sex and other forms of physical intimacy at bedtime have been shown to increase drowsiness, reduce the time it takes to fall asleep, and improve overall sleep quality," he rattles off. when you don't respond, the anger seeps back into his tone. "i'm not making this up! that's a direct quote from the chief of pul…shit, pulmo…pulmonology at Kaiser Permanente in Honolulu." 

"what's pulmonology?" 

"how the fuck should i know?" another frustrated crunch. "but she's the chief of it, so she should know what she's saying." 

your head is still reeling. stall, he gets distracted easily. "w-when did you look this up?" 

"two weeks ago, when you told me you had trouble sleeping." crunch. "i had a…a….hypothetical…?"

"hypothesis?" 

"don't interrupt me," he snaps. "i just remembered that people get sleepy after sex, and i knew there had to be a scientific reason. i'm not stupid you know." 

"i know…" you say, weakly. 

"but you wouldn't let me stay the night, for some reason you don't want to fuck me anymore, so now you have to suffer the consequences." the sound of a key fumbling in the door. 

"haechan…"

his voice drops an octave, a harsh rasp you've only heard when it was late at night or early in the morning. "i could have taken such good care of you, angel. i would've eaten you out…stretched you out on my fingers…" 

his next words are almost condescending. "would've fucked you until you passed out, or at least fucked you dumb."  

confusion, and something far stronger and deeper, tug at your stomach. 

"haechan?" your voice is a pale whisper. 

he hums. 

"i'm sorry. come back." you cringe at sound of your voice, small and achy, but you can't help yourself. 

there's silence on the other end. 

"you…want me to go back?" 

"please." 

and the line goes dead. 

x

it's a solid 15 minute walk from haechan's to your apartment, but it only takes 7 minutes after he hangs up for him to slam against your door, pounding on it with an urgency far too loud for 12.30am. 

when you open the door he crumples to the floor at your feet. he's drenched, completely, gasping and panting so hard you can see his chest move in and out with each shuddering breath. his mouth moving soundlessly, he crawls towards you, dragging himself up with a hand scrabbling at the wall, and your arms circle his waist immediately to steady him. 

his eyes are squinted shut in pain at what you assume is a stitch in his side, but he's still mouthing the same set of words over and over again soundlessly, too out of breath to vocalise them. 

"haechan, it's okay-" you splutter, helping him out of his rain-soaked sweater, his white shirt stuck to his skin underneath. "breathe. fuck, i told you to come back but i didn't tell you to sprint, did you fall? why would you-" 

"- don'tchangeyourmind," he rasps, gasping and hiccuping between breaths, the words finally ringing out in the still air of your apartment. "don't change your mind, don't change your mind…don't-" he coughs, his breaths still feeling more like punches than drawing air. 

"please don't change your mind," he begs.

his eyes are stealing the words from the cavity of your chest, drinking you in until you can't think of anything to say.

whimpering at your lack of response, he places his whole body weight on you, forehead gently nudging yours. "you told me to come back," he whispers. "i didn't want to give you any time to regret it. just now…when you made me leave…" his voice drops low. 

he was supposed to be the boy who just wanted to fuck you. but why did it sound like he was talking about something else entirely?

"i don't regret it, haechan," you say, softly. "and i could never…" you swallow. "i could never change my mind about you." 

he blinks, dazed. "i…" he takes a shuddering breath, and you tense up in fear. did he think you were alluding to something more? 

"haechan, i just meant-" 

"fuck, i don't understand anything you're saying," he blurts out. "i just know i want you, now." he drops his arms to your waist. "don't make me beg…i mean, fuck, if you told me to i would, but i just…" 

"you don't have to use your words," murmuring, you run your hands up and down his arms, and he shivers at your touch, closing his eyes.

"but you need to hear them," he insists. "words of affirmation…remember?" your heart thunders in your chest. 

"haechan…"

"i want to feel like i have you." his lips ghost over yours. "please?"

"please," you repeat back at him, and he's all over you. 

he carries you to your room, placing you gently on the bed. things go by in a blur, his gentle voice guiding you through the motions, skin against skin and his lips kissing you everywhere. before you know it, you're straddling his thigh as he drags your hips, grinding you down onto him as his mouth licks at your neck. 

"louder, angel," he pants, flexing the muscles in his thigh and making you whimper as you feel yourself coming close. this is the most silent he's been with you ever, his ears attuned to every catch of your breath, every choked sound you let out, that he falls silent to drink it all in. 

"need more," you beg. "need you, please…"

"you have me." his eyes soften, the sight of you falling apart on just his thighs giving him an aching feeling in his chest. this was different from the girls who would fall over themselves to talk to him, who used their own tricks to meet his. this was you, giving all your control to him. "you're doing so good for me."

sniffling, you grind harder against him, chasing your climax. "i am?" 

he allows himself a small groan. he wanted to swallow you whole. "come here," he says, tenderness straining at his voice. 

he stretches you out before he slips into you, waits until you give him the go ahead. he makes you wrap your arms around him, feet planted on the bed as your body intertwines with his, as he fucks up into you. he wants to feel you on him until he can finally decipher every look that flits through your eyes, until he can read your thoughts and drown in them. he presses a hand to your navel, and feels himself moving inside you, angling his hips until he knows he's ramming his tip against your sweet spot, feels your breath catch as if it were his own, your tears mixing with his sweat. 

he bites down on your shoulder when he cums with you. he doesn't know if it's to savour the sound of you falling apart because of him, or if it's to stop himself from admitting he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 

x

when you wake up, he's in your bed. scrawling on a piece of paper. 

he doesn't notice you're awake, so you move closer to him on the pretence that you're still sleeping, watching through heavy eyelids the way he's muttering to himself, biting on his lip harshly. the ache between your legs gives you a sense of bliss, and the sight before you gives you an overwhelming sense of peace in your heart.

feeling your body shift, he absentmindedly reaches out to stroke your hair. it's that specific action that gives you the courage to sit up, your heart full. 

"good morning, haechan." 

"what's another word for fuck?" he's not looking at you, mindlessly chewing on his fingernails as his eyes dart across his piece of paper. 

"um…the verb or the expletive?" 

"the action." 

"why do you need another word for 'fuck'?" placing a hand on his shoulder, you lower your head to try and catch his attention. "haechan? what are you doing?" 

"i need another word for fuck because renjun told me not to use the word 'fuck'," he mumbles, crossing things out on his scrap of paper. 

"why?" you laugh, watching as his lips begin to pout slightly at how things were not turning out the way he planned at all. 

unable to stop himself, he lets out a whine. "because it's unromantic-" clenching his fists, he yelps as the speech he has scrawled out gets crumpled up. "fuck!" 

"haechan, it's okay," you're trying hard to keep a straight face, wanting to match his sincerity and tone. "is that a letter? for me?" 

"it's my script," he snaps. "it's my planned confession." groaning, he tries to straighten it out so he can read the words on it. "you said…you said it was a bad thing not to confess, which means it's a good thing to confess…" 

you feel like you're about to cry. "explain in your own words," you place a hand on his wrist. 

"i- you-" he takes a deep breath, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall off the bed and onto the floor. "you deserve someone who can keep up with you," he starts, quietly. "you deserve someone who will understand your jokes on first listen, who can hold long conversations with you without getting distracted by how hot you are when you're talking about something smart. i can't be that person." 

the words sting at your heart. is that really how haechan felt when he was around you? 

"but also-" his voice grows stronger, a hint of defiance in his tone. "i know for a fact that i make you laugh harder than anyone you know, even if you're laughing at me and not with me. i also know i can fuck you better than anyone you've ever been with, like, look-" 

he roughly pulls you towards him, lips finding yours messily. unfazed by the way your body tenses in surprise, he slips his tongue in your mouth just as he pulls you to grind onto his lap, causing you to gasp into his mouth. it doesn't take long for the shock to wear off, your body so attuned to him that a buzz runs through your veins — and you're just about to press yourself against him, starting to reciprocate his sloppy kisses, when he pulls away with a wet sound. 

panting, he swipes his thumb affectionately at the corner of your lips. "see?" 

you can't tell if you're frustrated that it ended so soon, or confused at what just happened. "see what?" 

"that was what, 15 seconds?" both your breaths come quick and fast, the tension in the room so palpable you could feel it press insistently against your skin. "and look at you now." a smile tugs at his lips, and he raises his eyebrows cockily. "i'm the only one who can do that to you." 

"yes, you are." you affirm.  

"yeah, because, i know how to touch you-" 

"because i'm in love with you," you interrupt, softly. 

and haechan literally stops breathing. 

you can see the way his chest stops moving entirely — his mouth hanging open, doe eyes wide. it's almost comical, the way his body freezes up. 

"i can't tell if you're doing that on purpose."  

still nothing. 

"did you really stop breathing?" 

"you love me?" 

he comes back to life spluttering, hands pointing to you, than himself, trying to make sure he hadn't heard wrong. 

"i love you," you repeat, gently. placing your palms on his chest, you feel his beating heart under your fingertips.

"you're not scared anymore?" he places his hands on your face in wonder, brushing a thumb on your cheekbone. you let yourself fall into his eyes, soft in the morning light. "you make it the easiest thing in the world," you whisper. the two of you bask in the moment, him breathing in your air, leaning closer and closer to you. your lips brush.

"fuck."

you whine as he pulls away, a horrified look on his face.

"y/n, i think i brainwashed you into loving me," he whispers, voice laced with genuine fear.

sighing, you gently bump your forehead with his. "if you make this about your dick..."

"no," he lets out a strangled sound. "that day, when we were calling and i was asking you questions..."

"haechan i swear to god-"

"those were 36 questions to make you fall in love," he whispers, pained. "y/n...i think i manipulated you. fuck i knew science was real, but i didn't know it was that useful-"

"after we make out, i'm going to have to explain the difference between pseudo-science and science to you", you grumble, as you push him back onto the bed and close the distance between you.

x

he whispers it into your hair, your face buried in his bare chest one night, his arms wrapped securely around you. 

"i don't want to go back tonight." 

"then don't." you hold him a little tighter, feeling him shift under your touch. "stay." 

"no, as in, i don't want to go back, ever." 

"haechan." 

he hums, hands starting to stroke at your sides, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your chest. 

"is this your way of asking to move in with me?" 

"i dunno…" 

"you do know that it's a big thing in a relationship right? and you're going to have to actually move out of your apartment, and figure out the rent on mine, and…"

"i don't care about that," he mumbles, a hint of stubborness in his tone. breathing in your hair, his voice drops even lower. "all i know is, i want to wake up tomorrow right here, with you. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after." 

"yeah?" 

his arms fall away from you as you sit up, brushing your hair out of your face to look at him in the lamplight. propped up against the headboard, his eyes wide and gaze so tender it steals your breath away like a blow to your ribcage. you can see the hesitance written all over him, the slight tension in his shoulder-blades, his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the sheets. 

"please say yes," he whispers, more to himself than to you. 

"haechan…" you take his hands in yours, and kiss his fingertips gently. "please move in with me." 

exhaling in exaggerated relief, he pulls you onto him and kisses you deeply. mouth moving against yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he focuses on your tongue moving against his, his teeth grazing your lips. trying to convey all the love he had for you in the way he gently held the back of your neck, his other pressing down on the small of your back until your body curves into his. 

"if you move in with me," you smile, breathlessly, when he finally lets you go. "you can finally fuck me awake, like you promised." 

a pause. 

"is that all i am to you?" sadly, he runs a hand absentmindedly down his beautiful body, landing on his thighs. his eyes are downcast when he mumbles out, "just a hot body for you to fuck?" 

panicking, you lean into him quickly, cupping his face in your hands as you settle down on his lap. "baby, you know that's not true. you're the most genuine, kind, loving….." you trail off, eyes narrowing when you realise he's biting his lip to keep from laughing. "manipulative, conniving…" 

his eyes crinkle adorably as he wraps you in his arms, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours. "you love me soooo much," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. 

yes.

pause. "also, what does conniving mean?" 

yes. you did.

taglist: @puduwhore @haechanalpha @anniebyanto @sunnynaa @newdeobi @strwberrydinosaur @gyulfriend @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi @beomibeom

-> go to part 2 here!

[joyoushyuck]

requested

00:56

Your hand is raised in front of the door, about to knock, when the door clicks open on its own. Donghyuck doesn't seem surprised by your presence; his expression is morphed into one of indifference. He is wearing his glasses and that white Celine shirt he loves to wear on special occasions. His long hair curls at his nape, a few curly strands beautifully swaying at the front. You would call him gorgeous if it wasn't for the pressing situation at hand. He walks past you into the kitchen and extracts a water bottle from the fridge. You flinch when he slams the door shut.

“Donghyuck,” you try. He chugs the water down, ignoring you. “Donghyuck list-”

A thud, water on your feet and a gasp leaving your mouth, and Donghyuck storms past you back into the bedroom. The blue baby shark bottle lays a few inches away from your legs with a broken hinge and a crack near the top.

You bite your lips in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. You brought this on yourself, you have no right to cry. If forgetting your anniversary was not enough of a fault, you went on to blame it on your workload and blame him for being upset. Not your smartest move.

Dejected, you walk back to the couch and lay down. You haven't slept properly in ages, you really were preoccupied with an important project at work, but even that isn't a good reason to stop doing the bare minimum. Donghyuck's anger is justified.

You don't have a blanket; no amount of hugging yourself provides you the warmth that Donghyuck’s body exudes. The pit of your stomach feels hollow with dread; the guilt weighs you down and threatens to swallow your being. After an hour of twisting and turning, you give up on the idea of sleep. There's no way you can sleep peacefully without resolving this conflict. Your throat constricts and heart sinks at the prospect of Donghyuck ending this relationship for his own good.

So you walk up to the door resolutely. If Donghyuck continues to give you the silent treatment, you know your resolve will take a hit pretty soon. However, doing something to show that you care is better than doing nothing.

“Hyuck,” you start, only to hear your voice crack. It pains you as much as it pains him to have landed in such a predicament. “I'm sorry, Donghyuck, it's my fault. Please, just open the door.”

You are met with silence. Did he fall asleep already? It seemed unlikely but you couldn't rule out the possibility.

“Hyuck, are you awake? Baby? Just please answer me.”

Still no response. But then, something drops, and you hear the old bed squeak, his feet shuffle and the spring in your mattress dip. So he's awake.

“Donghyuck, love, please talk to me.” You cringe at the desperation in your own voice. “I am sorry, I know I fucked up Hyuck. Shout at me, hit me, just-”

You clutch your hair, your back sliding against the door and butt hitting the cold floor. A shiver runs down your spine. Was it winter already?

“Just don't be quiet, please.”

You bury your face in your hands in a last ditch attempt to keep the sobs under control. It didn't seem to be working in your favour. The stress at work seems to be finally catching upto you as well. Donghyuck needs space. He doesn't need you annoying him now when all this could have been prevented had you been more mindful of your actions. You accept your fate and curl into a bundle, deciding to give it a rest for now.

That's how Donghyuck finds you a few hour laters.

You are hugging your knees close to your chest, head resting uncomfortably on the hard floor. When he takes a closer look, he can see the dried streak of tears on your cheek. You are trembling, and he realises you haven't even switched the heater on. Something in him breaks at the sight of you like this.

“Hey, baby,” he gently taps your cheek to wake you up. “Baby, you can't sleep here, come in.”

You make a little noise. He is met with the uncontrollable urge to coo at you, but stops himself given the situation.

“Wake up doll,” he tries again. “You are going to have a terrible back pain at this rate.”

You blink your eyes open sluggishly after a few moments. Donghyuck isn't wearing his glasses anymore and his hair is mussed up. “Hyuck?” You ask, your sleep muddled brain still not catching up. “Is everything alright?”

Donghyuck sighs, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. He loved you too much to stay mad at you for long, no matter what you did.

“Come sleep on the bed baby. We'll talk about the rest in the morning. Come in now.”

[liliansun]

two “rules” one problem

pairing : ex-bff!hyuck x fem!reader

wc : 14.8k

synopsis : despite your history, you and haechan couldn’t stand each other. that is till you’re paired up for a project and he’s just desperate enough for your help with his love life with the acception of his stupid rules

genre : enemies2lovers (best trope), ex-childhood friends to lovers (also best trope), fake dating, angst, fluff, college au

warnings : swearing, kissing, alcohol, haechan gets jealous, lying, uhh idk what else but lmk if i missed something (not proof read so i’m sorry 🥲)

If there was one thing twelve year old donghyuck wanted more in this world, other than his mom’s cooking, it was his two best friends coming together. You had been his friend since birth, both your mom’s bonding together before the two of you even came into the world. They met in a birth class, having similar due dates helped them both find comfort and friendship within each other compared to the other moms in the class that were farther along than them. They had already planned playdates after both you and donghyuck were born and even after all that time, they stayed true to those plans.

Your earliest memories have donghyuck in them in some shape, way or form. Whether he was attending you birthday party, or you to his, all the way to the two of you sharing the same home room when you both started school. The dynamic between you two was truly unmatched, something that could never be touched or fault. When you two got older, not much had changed. The excitement of high school had you both buzzing as each day passed through your final years of being just below the line of being a teenager.

Although you both were attached by the hip, you still found space in your young life to befriend other people, or at least donghyuck did. Thats how mark lee came into the picture, being a transfer student in the middle of the year made it hard for him to settle in and become comfortable. Donghyuck saw mark sitting along during lunch one sunny afternoon and although the two had a bit of a rocky start, their friendship blossomed into something that they both needed. Now that he had such a connection with his new found friend, all he wanted to do is share his love for mark with you. You thought you were a welcoming person, easy to get along with and fairly nice, but the day donghyuck brought you and mark together would just so happen be the day you lost your best friend.

“I’m telling you, that doesn’t sound right to me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, laughing a little under his breath as he strums his slender fingers against the strings on his guitar. “Its not finished yet, gotta trust the process.” You simply reply with a hum as you watch mark fiddle and try to tune the strings to his liking. The two of you were cooped up in his dorm room, him sitting on the edge of his bed with the instrument rested in his lap while you opted to sit in the chair that usually was tucked under his desk. “What are you doing here anyway, don't you have other friends to bother instead?” Rolling your eyes, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. “Actually, no i don't, i thought we went over this. Yeongmin is off studying so she can’t aid my boredom.”

Mark continued strumming along the strings till he got a rhythm he liked and started to hum along with the tune that was filling the room. “I swear you’re gonna be famous one of these days.” Looking down at your phone, you notice the groupchat you’re in with your friends is going off. “That would be nice actually.” Unlocking your phone, a smile spreads across your lips at the messages that were popping up. “Maybe if you didn’t have crippling stage fright, you’d be able to actually play the songs you sing to more people than just me.” A gentle laugh left mark’s throat as he set the guitar down on its stand beside his bed. “Actually, I sing to Haechan too, so don’t come for me.” His name left a sour taste in your mouth, your face scrunching up as you try to block out his stupid face in your mind. Mark could tell you two still weren’t on good terms, but he didn’t want to push it again and opted to pick up his phone that was vibrating on his bed.

You stole a glace at the screen, catching the name of the caller id. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mumble underneath your breath. Mark answers the facetime call, holding his phone in his hand, but opting to hold it further down at an angle. “Yo, whats up?” The background noise was windy, letting both you and mark know that he must've been outside. “Bro where have you been, i've been looking for you for hours!”

“If you didn’t find him, he obviously didn’t wanna be found, but if its you he’s hiding from who can blame him.” Mumbling beneath your breath, but mark still heard you. “Hey, you be nice over there.” haechan looked confused on the screen, strolling around on campus to his unknown destination. “Are you talking to yourself again?” mark turned his camera around, showing you sitting comfortably in his chair as you scroll mindlessly on social media. “No, im not talking to myself again, y/n is here.” by the mention of your name, haechan rolled his eyes. “Why is she always there when im coming over.”

“I didn't even know you're coming over.” added in his defense after switching his camera back around. “If that thing is on his way, i’m out.” you piped up, grabbing your bag from off the floor as you stood up from the chair. “Text me when you make it in at least?” mark felt helpless sometimes. He never truly understood what went down between you and haechan all those years ago, but splitting his free time between the two of could could be more challenging some days than others. If he wasn’t chilling with you in the comfort of the few places you knew haechan wouldn’t be caught dead near like your dorm or the library, he was chilling with haechan and the friend group they developed over the years being in college.

“Will do, have fun with the devils incarnate.” You say back as you’re opening the door to make your exit. Just as you’re leaving, you come face to face with something firm or shall you say someone. “Do you ever use those eyes of yours or are they just there for decoration?” you recognized that voice from anywhere, it being the same voice belonging to the one person you were hoping not to see on your way out. “Can you move lee, or are you just that self absorbed to think that I could just see you standing outside the door before it was even open?” Haechan scoffed as you walked past him, huffing as you nudge him with your shoulder to get him out of your way. From mark’s dorm to yours wasn't a far walk, which was good for you when you needed to get out of your room or just needed his help on an assignment. Unfortunately for you, it meant that haechan too didn’t have much of a far walk either seeing that his dorm hall was across from yours.

When you get into your room, your roommate wonchae looked up from her phone as she was laid out on her bed. “I thought you were at mark’s for a few hours?” Tossing your bag down beside the door you huff as you walk over to your bed and crawl underneath the blanket after removing your shoes. “I was till donghyuck decided to grace mark with his presence.” Wonchae giggled as she sits up, looking at you getting comfortable beneath your blanket as you pull your phone out. “Wanna call the girls over for a movie night instead?” you glance over at her, a smile spreading across your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow. “As long as we’re not too loud again, we can’t afford another complaint this month.” Wonchae was already texting the groupchat before you could even finish your sentence. The night proceeded with you and your friends having a movie marathon despite your early class in the morning. You assumed it wouldn’t be too much to unwind a bit, binge watching three movies back to back. Somehow, you didn’t make it to your bed when you initially planned to due to the twins, wonchae and yechae convincing you to pull through the last movie.

Since the time on the clock read after midnight by the time the movies were finished, the three girls opted to sleep over with you and your roommate instead of taking the risk of going back to their own dorms. Yeongmin’s dorm was the furthest from yours, being about a twenty minute walk and you all collectively agreed she especially was sleeping over. Somehow you and yeongmin both managed to fit in your tiny bed for the night while the twins and sin-ra snuggled up on wonchae’s bed across the room. By the next morning, you woke up to the sound of yeongmin snoring in your ear beside you. She had her arms and legs tangled in yous, trying to pry her off you as you crane your neck to look over at the time clock on your desk. Your worst fears were confirmed when the time read nine after when your first class was supposed to finish. Quickly getting out of the warmth of your bed, you scramble to get ready and are out the door before you can properly apologize for waking everyone up.

If you were lucky, or rather fast enough, you can catch your professor before he starts his next class and get the notes on what you missed. You make a mental note to thank yourself when you set up your schedule for this semester for giving you breaks in between classes, especially on the midday schedules. As your toppling up the stairs leading into the building, you spot haechan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He hadn’t noticed you thankfully, not wanting him to hold the fact that you almost busted your face open trying to get inside over your head. He looked so into thought, looking out over the campus as you take the opportunity to grip the railing to catch your breath.

“Look who decided to show up for class today.” rolling your eyes, you straighten your posture as he pulls himself off the wall he once was comfortably leaning against. “Don’t start with me today, i almost died trying to get over here to catch professor choi before his next class.”

“Don't bother, he cut class short for some family emergency or something, but i can fill you in if you fix your attitude.” He truly was the epitome of your frustration. “Just tell me what i missed so i can get away from you as quickly as possible.” there was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he tools steps towards you. “Looks like you’re not gonna get too far, we’re partnered up for a presentation.”

If the universe didn’t already hate you, you’d think this was your first sign. “I can always request a partner switch, you know?” Haechan only laughs in response, clutching the bag hung over his shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that, he made it pretty clear that he wasn’t giving in because this will be counted towards our final.” a sigh left your lips as you accepted your fate, you and haechan would have to spend an unknown amount of hours in each others presence without any chance at getting around it. “Just meet me after our next class and we can go over it then.” WIth that, you turned on your heals and made your way to the nearest cafe to get something in your body since you didn’t have the opportunity to grab breakfast. Thankfully for you, your campus was notorious for its tiny cafes placed around all of campus which not only helped feed your caffeine addiction, it helped other students make some money as they swim in student dept.

As good as every cafe you’ve been to on campus can be, none of them compare to the baristas at cafe neo, something about the way those boys make your drinks just the way you like them has been without a doubt why you only trust them with your order. As you make your way across campus and the cafe is within sight, you over hear a conversation between the two girls in front of you. “Oh my god, look what bomi just posted!” the one to your right gasped, whipping out her phone as she brings it to the slightly shorter girls attention. “You’re kidding, isn’t she dating haechan?” you’re trying not to be nosy, not fond of listening into other peoples conversation, but at the mention of haechan’s name, you can’t help, but keen in. “Guess not anymore, look at the caption, those hearts are definitely more than just friendly.”

The two part off of the way you were going, leaving you with little information as to what their reactions were about. You had just saw haechan, judging by his usual cocky and self absorbing nature, he seemed all but heartbroken. You push your wondering thoughts aside as you enter in the cafe, smiling over at the tall boy who stood behind the counter. “Welcome to cafe neo– oh hi y/n!” his nametag read jisung, but you always referred to him as the cute underclassman who blushed when you tipped him. “Hi ji, anything new on the menu?” Jisung smiled at you as you walk up to the counter. “Nothing today, chenle is still brainstorming over ideas to ask the culinary department on what they can come up with in the back, you just want the usual?” You skim over the menu that was hanging on the wall behind him, as if you got anything different, but it never hurt to look. “Mmm, yeah, just one please.”

Getting the money from your pocket, you lay it on the counter as he typed in your order on the screen in front of him. It’s times like this that make you wonder how often you come here for this boy to know your order by heart. He takes the money you laid out for him and as he tries to hand you your change, you throw your hand up in refusal. “No, you keep it, you boys work too hard.” theres a slight pinkish tent to his cheeks as he slips the few bills and coins in the glass jar beside the front of the counter. “I’ll call you when its ready!”

Throughout the rest of the day, you take your perfectly made drink with you to your next class and go about your day, everything feeling as normal as it could. One thing that slightly bothered you were the hushed whispers of Haechan’s relationship and how quickly his ex girlfriend seemed to move on. People were coming up with theories amongst themselves as to what could’ve happened and if Haechan knew. Just like you, some said he seemed fine for the first part of the day till the alleged post was made from which you overheard. You didn’t pay it any mind and went about your day till you were back in your room for the night.

“And if you carry this number, you should get one of these answers down here.”

“And how do i know if i got them right?”

“We won’t know till we actually try, now won’t we?” Jaemin, the guy who you shared a math class with last semester, asked you to tutor him this semester so that he might actually have a chance of passing the class and getting out of this hellhole. His words, not yours. “Or, brillant idea, you can use your pretty brain and show me which answer is correct.” Jaemin was indeed a smart guy, but it was moments like these that you questioned if he really had a multi functioning organ in that skull of his or was it just hot air. “Not a chance, solve it the way I showed you and we’ll go from there.” With a defeated huff, he finally puts the pencil that he has been fiddling with the last few minutes to work.

The two of you met in the library near his hall regularly, about twice during the week and an extra day is added when he has an upcoming test and if you have the time. The library usually was quiet around this time of day, most keeping to themselves as they cater to their own work, but for some reason you felt a pair of eyes staring at the back of your head. Just as you’re about to take a look around the room, the chair beside you is being pulled out and haechan finds himself in the seat next to you. “Where have you been?” you look over at him, slightly shocked to see him actually in the library. “Excuse me?” His face tells you that he’s annoyed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he leans into your personal space. “I said, where have you been, i've been all over campus for you and had to result to mark to find you.”

You motion to Jaemin who was focused in on the problem in front of him, or at least he was when you last looked his way. Now he has his signature grin on his lips, flashing his teeth as he witness the unwelcomed tension between you and haechan. “For your information, i’m tutoring pretty boy over here and your grumpiness is interrupting him.” Jaemin’s smile widens even more as the vein in Haechan’s forehead looks like it about to pop. “I, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck. maybe send someone a text next time so i don’t have to look so desprate to find you.” You scoff, sitting back in your seat as you realize his undertones. Who was he to say that looking for you made him look desperate, he literally is desperate in this moment.

“Sorry to break up this beautiful moment, but its about that time for me to go, so y/n, same time next week?” Nodding, you let out a sigh as Jaemin starts to pack his things into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “There, happy now? You ran off Jaemin.” haechan ignores you, pulling his laptop out of his own bag and sets it onto the table. “We have roughly a month and a half to pump out a fucking book of an essay and make a slide point presentation, the faster we get this finished the less I have to see you in my free time.” He was truly unbelievable, first he comes and interrupts your personal time to help the needy, needy being Jaemin and his need to pass his class, and now he throws wanting to get away from you as quickly as he can? You are definitely adding this to the list of why you hate him.

The two of you go over the topic you were given, trying to break down the work between the two of you into categories: what you can do separate and what you’ll have to do together. Since you both were already here, you decided it would be best to get a head start on the research portion. Time must’ve caught up with you both, wrapping things up right before the library closed for the night. “I can’t look at this screen anymore, lets just end it here and meet up another day.” You grab your forgotten bag from the floor, carrying it on your arm as Haechan packs up his laptop. By the time he is done, you’re already making your way out the door and dredging the walk back to your dorm. Quick approaching steps trail behind you as haechan jogs to catch up to you. “Woah, not so fast, aren’t you forgetting something?” you don’t bother to stop, continuing your walk as he walks beside you. “And that is?”

“We don’t have any way of contacting each other, idiot, so give me your number.” You halt your movements and with a sigh, turn to face him. The bright sky from when you first entered the library earlier is now replaced with the deep colors of the night. The moon was full, shining its light down and being your only real light to see haechan’s features that seem more soft in this setting. “Do you still remember my number?” Haechan looks taken aback, looking at you with a lingering confusion in his eyes. “You still have that number?”

“Mhm, so if you still know it then there’s your way of getting to me.” You’re about to turn and make your way to your dorm, your stomach urging you to find food soon. Haechan was chewing on his bottom lip, reaching out for your arm as he watched you try to walk away. “What is it donghyuck? I’m hungry and tired, what could you possibly want now?” The wind leaves his lungs as you say his name. Once he got to high school, many people started sticking him with the nickname Haechan, the reasoning behind it was his bright smile and personality, but you still saw him as donghyuck even after all this time.

“Just come with me, your dorm is too far to be walking at this time of night.” You didn’t get a chance to protest, he was already dragging you along with him to his car parked out front. “Fine, but I swear if you try to kill me with your driving I will come back to haunt your ugly ass.” You earn a snicker from him, his hand still holding your arm till you two reach his car and you slide into his passenger seat. Haechan fits perfectly into the drivers seat, putting the keys into the ignition and starting up his car once you are locked in. The two of you don’t say much, letting the radio fill in the silence of the drive. You’re too busy looking out the window to realize he passes up your hall, looking over at him with confusion once you see an unfamiliar street.

“Uhm, where are we going?”

“Dinner.” The words fall from his mouth so nonchalantly that you don’t question it any further, sinking into the seat as you let him drive to wherever he wanted. You’re not exactly sure why, but part of you always wanted a moment like this. Sitting in the car with Haechan, driving around town till it got dark was one thing you dreamt of back when you were both young, back when you still could see yourself in his future. Now that you’re doing it, it almost feels foreign. Sure, everything about his car screamed Haechan, the little things dangling from his rear view mirror gave that away, but the boy beside you was far from familiar. He was uncharted territory, someone you barely knew and to be beside him, being this close to him brought on a headache you weren’t expecting.

The two of you pull through the Taco Bell drive through, getting in line behind the cars. “What do you want?” You tell him your order after glancing over the menu. Even though you already knew what you wanted, you still wanted to give it some time to tell him in the order you wanted it. You were the type of person who wasn’t afraid of change, but didn’t go out of your way to invite it either. Always ordering the same thing from each place you go, you found comfort in the things that could always remain the same, like your Taco Bell order.

After your order is put through, you’re pulling your wallet out to give him cash for your part. “Here, this is for the food.” Haechan simply ignores you, handing over his card to the guy at the window. “Hello? Take the cash before I take it back.” After getting his card back, he slips it into his pocket and pulls forward. “Save your money, y/n, it’s not a big deal.” He seemed short with you tonight, not speaking up or putting much of a fight into it like he usually did in the passing times you two saw one another. It felt odd to see him brush you off, an unsettling feeling washing over you as you put the money back into your wallet.

After he had gotten the food and your two drinks, he whipped his car around and parked in a spot on the side of the building. “Are you fine eating here, I’m kinda hungry and don’t wanna have to wait till we get back.”

“No, yeah, it’s fine, but are you okay?”

You could see his body tense up at your question, pushing the straw into your drink before doing so to his own. “I guess, why do you care?” You’re sorting through the bag, grabbing what you assumed was his and handing it over to him. He goes to grab his food from your hand, your fingers brushing against each other’s for a moment. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, the warmth of his hand against yours, but it felt all too familiar and you almost jerk back as he quickly grabs the food. “Because I’m a decent human being and I knew you well enough back then to know that something is off.”

If you could read his thoughts, you’d see how badly your words hurt him just now. You were far from wrong, you truly did know him like the back of your hand and maybe even better than he knew himself, but too much time between you two had you both wondering if you knew anything about each other anymore. Amongst the burning anger you both have for one another, there was still some sort of longing within you that had you both slightly questioning the downfall of your friendship, but never enough to where either would act on it. “I don’t know, it’s kind of weird to think of opening up to someone I hate.”

“Then don’t think about it right now, if you need someone to talk to then do so. If it means forgetting you hate me just to get it off your chest, do so donghyuck.” A somber smile finds its way onto his lips as he tears open the wrapping that covered his food. “You’re a little too nice to me for someone who hates me just as much as I hate them.”

“Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I’m evil, I have a heart too you know?”

“Oh really, I never would’ve guessed judging by the lifeless look in your eyes.” You roll your eyes at his jab, mumbling something about dropping it before relishing in your food. The two of you don’t talk much after that, sitting in his car with the only form of sounds filling it were you two eating till he dropped you off. After getting in, wonchae gave you a weird look as you looked both defeated and exhausted. You told her you had a rough day and wanted sleep to be the reason you forgot about it.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Haechan since the night he bombarded you in the middle of your study session with Jaemin then took you out to Taco Bell. Sure, you’d see him in your shared class, but not once did his eyes meet yours and he kept every snarky remark to himself if he had any. You didn’t pay it any mind, assuming whatever was going on with him would pass and he’d be back to his normal asshole-like self soon. In between your classes for the day, you decided to slip off to the neo cafe for some well needed caffeine to keep you going through the day. While you were here, you planned to slip off in a quiet corner and let the music they play in the small room milk your brain to help you continue working on the parts of your presentation with Haechan.

As you’re walking up to the counter, you notice Jisung was nowhere to be found and you opt to wait patiently by the counter. The ring of the bell signaling the doors movement doesn’t catch your attention, but the familiar voice behind you does when you turn your head to the boy who called your name. “Can I help you?” Haechan hadn’t turned to look at you, his eyes scanning over the menu. “What’s good here, do you know?” You give him a puzzled look, wondering where this small talk came from. “Uhm, if your taste buds are even remotely the same, I’d say you’d get the sweet honey taro drink, it comes iced or hot.” He simply nods, tearing his eyes from the menu and lets his gaze fall onto you. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, trying to find something that felt familiar behind them, but all you could see was the void behind his golden irises.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! Chenle was about to burn down the kitchen so I had to step away for a second.” Jisung’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to him with a soft smile. “That’s okay ji, I’m more than happy to wait if that meant this sacred place would still be my caffeine plug.” Jisung smiles as he enters your order, his attention going from yours to Haechan whose gaze has yet to leave your figure. Your eyes follow Jisung’s, looking over at Haechan. “Oh, no we’re not—“

“I’ll just have what she’s having.” Haechan pulls out some cash from his back pocket, bringing it out for Jisung. Your mind couldn’t wrap itself around Haechan’s weird demeanor lately, he not only has been nice to you, but he’s paid for you twice. You knew he was sick in the head, but now you’re guessing it’s more than just his mental stability. When Jisung gives Haechan his change, you fumble with your pocket and pull out a few bills to throw into the tip jar, something you didn’t want to miss even if you weren’t the one paying. Jisung silently thanked you with his smile, to which you returned and told you both that he’d call you when your drinks were ready.

You were about to start questioning the weirdly quiet Haechan before he motioned for you both to move over to a table a little further in a corner. The two of you sat down, setting your bag against your chair as you prop your elbows up onto the table. “Okay, you’re acting weird and it’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable.” Haechan’s lips part as he goes to speak, but Jisung’s presence interrupts him as the younger boy sets both the cups down. “Thanks, ji.” You said, grabbing one of the drinks and bringing it towards you. “Y/n, back in the car you said something that I’ve been thinking about lately.” He had your full attention, something that made him oddly feel sheer to you. You were leaned in, your body language letting him know that you were listening, despite the awkwardness of the moment.

“You said that even though you hate me, you still have a heart too.” Nodding in confirmation, you remember saying it, but it didn’t make sense as to why he was bringing it up. “I, uhm, don’t know if you heard or not, but my girlf—my ex broke up with me recently and I really want to get her back.” You bring the cup in your hands to your lips, taking in a slow sip in case his next words are your cause of death. “And the only way I can think to do that is to make her jealous and I know what you’re thinking and I can hear it now, but just hear me out?” There it was, his intentions and reasoning behind his odd behavior lately. As you process his words, you already know where this is going and your drink decides to be the one to take you out today instead. You start to choke as the liquid goes off its track and nearly comes back through your nose.

Haechan’s eyes widen, staring at you in surprise as you try to gain back the air that just left your lungs as you cough. “Are you okay?” You simply nod, patting your chest as your drink is put back onto the table and you’re taking in slow breaths to steady yourself in the seat. “Uh yeah, no wait, okay hold on, you want to do what now?” The boy across from you drops his head slightly, feeling embarrassed by even bringing up the situation. Yeah, he wanted his ex back, he truly loved her, or so that’s what he thought it was. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’re the only person I thought of.”

“And what makes you think it’ll be believable? I mean the whole campus knows we hate each other.”

“But they also know we have history, plus this project will be a good enough cover to make them believe we had some spark going off or whatever.” You stay silent, contemplating the whole ordeal. On one hand, this could go terribly wrong in many ways, people could not believe you two and this could blow up in your face for the rest of your time at this university or it could go great and once he’s back in the arms of his ex lover, he’ll finally leave your hair for good. “I’m not saying yes, so don’t get too excited, but if I were to think about it, what do I get out of it?” Haechan knew you were going to want something, a slight smirk forming in the corners of his lips. In his mind, he guesses some things never change and with that, neither have you. “I’ll leave you alone after this, no more bickering or picking at you and shit—oh and I’ll do half of your work for the project!”

Damn, he truly was desperate. You press your lips together, trying to debate if this truly would be worth it. The outcome, if good, would be best for both parties and maybe you’d finally have a peaceful rest of your time here. Something deep down inside tells you it’s a bad idea, but you choose to ignore it because if it meant he’d take over half of what you have to do on your shared presentation, more free time for you. “I have to go to class, but I’ll let you know by later tonight.” Your watch indicated if you didn’t leave now, you’d be late for your next class and since you have a lab today, you especially didn’t want to miss it. You go to stand, one hand holding your bag while the other grabs your cup. Haechan stands too, his bag still hanging on his shoulder as he goes to grab his cup. The two of you exit the Neo cafe quietly, unaware of the lingering eyes that follow you two out.

After your final class, you make a b-line to Mark’s dorm where he was expecting you. It had been a few days since you two had time to hang out and you both were taking the opportunity to have some study time together in the quiet of his dorm. Once he signs you in as a guest, you both go up to his dorm and make yourselves comfortable, you being at his desk and him sitting on his bed. “What do you have to get done?” Pulling out your notes from your lab along with your laptop, you set everything out on his desktop. “Just going over some notes and typing them into a small essay for class, you?”

“Man, I got a quiz to study for and since professor moon likes to give them at the worst times possible, I gotta get as much as I can in.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both busy yourselves in what you were doing, Mark had his speaker on and chose a calming playlist he created for when you two would study like this. The music really did help you stay focused, having something to fill the room to keep your brain from getting off track. You’re about halfway done typing away on your laptop when your phone buzzes beside it. Glancing over, you notice a few missed notifications from your shared group chat with your friends, a few social media notifications and a text from an unknown number. You’re about to pick up your phone to see who texted you when an incoming call pops up on the screen, the same number that texted you.

You slide your thumb across your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text.” Of course it would be Haechan, who else were you expecting. In all honesty, you did expect him to text you at some point, but the call was a surprise for you. “I’m studying, like you should be doing too.”

“I need to know your answer, don’t get too excited.” You can practically feel him smirking through the phone followed by some shuffling. “Where are you anyway? I stopped by your hall and you weren’t there.”

Your posture straightens, wondering who he asked and what he told them when we made his way to your dorm. “You did what? Are you insane?” Haechan laughs, a soft laugh as you lean back in the seat. “Slightly, I’ve been told that’s a part of my charm though.” Rolling your eyes, you huff before looking over your shoulder at mark. “I’m with a friend, why?”

“Tell me where you’re at unless you want me to go to every hall on campus.”

“You’re fucking psycho, I’m with mark, idiot.” At the mention of his name, mark looks up at you as you swivel the chair around. You mouth Haechan’s name to him to which he looked genuinely confused. “Figures, I’m on my way.” He ended the call before you could even protest, swearing under your breath as you stood up to get your things together. “Why are you—actually no, since when did you and Haechan call each other?”

“I’ll explain later, I gotta go though bub, but I appreciate you studying with me.” You gave mark an apologetic smile as you packed your bag up with your laptop, making sure to grab everything you had. “Text me when you get in.” Mark had stood up from his bed, making his way over to you to gently pull you into a hug. The two of you never hugged much, the sudden affection leaving you taken aback slightly, but nevertheless you wrap your arms around him as he did you. “I’m right across the street, I’m not going rouge.” He hums, pulling back from the hug as he gives you an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I know, but you’re going with Haechan and that’s what makes me worried.”

It too made you worried, even if you didn’t exactly agree to his lil situation he proposed earlier, that nagging feeling that it wasn’t going to end well never left you every time you gave it more thought. “I’ll be fine, plus my location is on if I don’t text you by nine.” Mark only laughs as your arms drop from around him and you leave his room. It doesn’t take you long to get out the building, spitting Haechan’s car parked in front with his passenger window rolled down. He’s leaned over, a smirk across his lips while one hand grips the top of the steering wheel. “Hop in.” He says as you make your way down to his car. Once you get in, you throw your bag in his back seat and fasten your seatbelt before Haechan takes off and drives you two off campus.

“And where exactly are we going?”

Haechan doesn’t look over at you, his eyes focused on the road, but he can feel your stare on him. He was wearing a letterman jacket with a black shirt underneath and some jeans that complemented the look, it was the first time you really took in his attire and you swore he didn’t have that jacket on earlier. “Somewhere quiet we can talk, to sort everything out for the show we’re about to put on.” He’s cocky, confident and arrogant. You hated it, hated how smug he looked as the words fell from his mouth. “I haven’t even said yes yet, did that get through your thick skull?” He takes a moment to glance over at you, his mischievous expression never faulting. “You wouldn’t be in my car with me if you didn’t want to.” Fuck him for being right and fuck him for being slightly attractive when he said it. Slightly, not very or even a full hundred percent, but slightly.

He drives you two off to an abandoned looking parking lot where he puts his car into park and turns slightly to face you. “Have you thought about it enough?” You turn to face him, getting as comfortable as you can in the seat. “I guess, but you better pull through with doing half of my part of the project or else I’ll castrate you, no hesitation.” Haechan laughs, a full laugh that has his head tilting back just a bit. You’re fighting the smile that threatens to form on your lips. “You have my word, but we have more important things to go over.” He searches your face when you remain quiet, having the same look you did back at the cafe earlier, he knew you were listening. “Okay, so I was thinking our first appearance as a newly and very much in love ‘couple’ should be at the party this weekend.”

“Scratch that, I don’t party.”

“You’re gonna have to if you wanna keep up with me.” You scowl at him, rolling your eyes mentally as you give in. “Fine, but I’m not making it a habit, I have grades to keep up ya know?” He simply nods, going over the next few things y’all as a couple would have to do together in order to pull this off. Your first outing would be at the party, to much of your disapproval and the following will fall into place like dominos. You’d start having lunch together if your schedules met up, the two of you would spend time between classes together, again if your schedules met up, then you’d also have to sit beside him in your shared class. He also made mention that he’d be picking you up and dropping you off at your dorm so that you’d always be seen with him to make it believable. “Now we need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules? What are we, five years old?”

A memory flashes through Haechan’s mind, back to when you two were five. You had been on the playground at school by yourself and he was off on the monkey bars when you had fallen off the swing. The ground did not aid your fall, scraping your elbow and knee which resulted in a cry that not only alerted your teacher, but haechan. When get got to you, you were sniffling over the pain and the dirt on your dress, a dress that your mom bought for you for your previous birthday. “Y/n, i told you to wait for me.” Five year old Haechan pouted as he walked with you and the teacher to the nurses office. “I wanted to swing, I didn’t think I’d get hurt.” You replied, holding his hand gently. After that day, the two of you made a rule that you’d play together to make sure if something went wrong, you’d be by each other's side.

“The first rule, no one can know, not your roommate or your friends, if you have any, not even Mark.” You scoff, hitting his arm to which he whined. “For your information, I have friends and it’s not only Mark.” Haechan rubs the sore spot on his arm as he shakes his head at you. “Yeah yeah, the voices in your head don’t count.”

“Fuck you, Lee.”

“Second rule, no falling in love, not with anyone while this is going on, which goes without saying, but no hooking up either and no falling in love with me.”

“How can anyone fall in love with someone like you?” You didn’t realize the weight of your words till you watched the smile from his face fade away. Guilt washed over you in a wave, your face dropping as you see him fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. You’re about to apologize when you see his mood shift, he turns back facing the wheel and starts his car. “Yeah, anyway, two rules and that’s that.” You don’t say anything back, turning back in your seat to fasten your seatbelt. Haechan drives you back onto campus and drops you off in front of your hall. “What time is your class in the morning?” He asks as he puts his car into park. “I think it’s an eight am class, but I’ll text you when I get in.” He nods as you free yourself and get out of his car.

Heading upstairs, the phone in your hand is going off with missed messages from your group chat with your friends. You’re smiling down at them as you push your door open, only to look up and see your four friends sitting with their arms crossed. “Oh hello, did I miss something?”

“We missed you!” Yeongmin stated, sitting with her legs crossed on your bed. “Where have you been, ma’am?” Yechae asked as she gave you a knowing smile. “I was just out, jeez, I’m sorry mom.” Sin-ra giggles as she pushes out her phone for you to see. “Uh huh, and whose car was this?” All the girls ooo at you as you sit down on your bed, filling in the spot next to Yeongmin. “You watched me!” Wonchae shook her finger at you, “What else were we supposed to do when you went missing? One minute, you’re at Mark’s dorm and the next, you’re off the grid!” The four girls immediately started questioning you as you brushed off their curiosity with half-assed answers. You wanted so badly to tell them all that’s going on and the situation you had gotten yourself into, but that was one of the two rules Haechan made. No one can know.

A loud knock on the door interrupts the conversation, all of you looking at one another. “Oh, that must be our RA, I think the pizza is here.” Yeongmin gets up from your bed and goes to open the door, unexpecting the boy who was on the other side. “Hi, uhm, is y/n here?” Haechan’s voice immediately caught your attention as you scramble off your bed while the other three girls give you wide eyed looks. “I’ll get it!” Yeongmin’s grip on the door is stronger than your force of trying to push her out the way. She moves, but not enough to where you'd be blocking their view. She only steps back, opening the door even more for them all to see him standing there with your bag in hand. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t even realize I left it.”

Haechan can tell by the look on your friends' faces that they were shocked to see him there. He had an audience and he was about to put on a show. “No problem baby, you left it in my backseat.” The sudden nickname makes your stomach flip, but you weren’t about to show him that. Instead, you reach for the bag to which he moves with his hand. “Ah ah, I want a kiss goodbye first.” You immediately glare at him to which he gives you a smirk. “Not in front of my friends, silly.” The emphasis you put on the last word has Haechan smiling even wider. “Just one for the road?” With a deep breath in, you had only two options. Kiss him and get him to leave or knee him in his most valued area, but that would be too red of a flag for your friends. You take a step closer to him, standing up on your toes as you press a quick peck on his cheek. As you do so, you grab for your bag that he still was holding, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thank you, I’ll see you in the morning?” Haechan looks dumbfounded for a minute, blinking down at you with slightly parted lips. He wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss him, so for you to do so, he was a bit taken aback. “I’ll be here, goodnight babygirl.”

The show Haechan put on caused an uproar within your friend group that lasted just long enough before the three had to go back to their rooms. They were questioning everything from what the hell that was and since when were you babygirl for anyone else, but them. When you finally admitted that he was your (fake) boyfriend, they all congratulated you on your new relationship and only wished they knew about him before.

The next morning went according to your plans you and haechan texted about the night before. He picked you up, parked right in front of your dorm before your class and even stopped by and got you a drink from the Neo cafe. After he dropped you off at your first class, you didn’t see him much till your shared class where he saved you a seat. The two of you went your separate ways after he walked you to your next class and eventually he dropped you off back at your dorm. “The party starts in a few hours so I’ll text you when I’m coming by.” He said, watching as you get out of his car. “Got it, also don’t come in again, you nearly killed my friends with your little stunt you pulled.” This earned a laugh from Haechan as you shut the door and he waited till you were inside before he pulled off.

By the time you got inside your room, all your friends were already sitting on your and wonchae’s beds as they watched a movie on your shared tv. “Oh good, just in time, the movie just started!” Yechae smiled at you as she paused the movie. “Actually, I have plans, I’m so sorry.” A pout forms on your bottom lip in hope they forgive you. “Actually, do you guys wanna come with me? Haechan is taking me to a party and I don’t wanna leave you guys here.” Sin-ra was already jumping off the bed as she went straight to your closet. “A party, fucking bet!” The other three girls join in as they raid Wonchae’s closet and you text Haechan letting him know they’re coming. To your surprise, he responds with ‘the more the merrier ;)’ and you brush off the wink as you try to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks.

Since there were so many of you and you know already you won’t all fit in Haechan’s car, the girls opt to take Yechae’s car as well and after you all get dressed, you get a text that Haechan was waiting for you out front. “Alright, he’s here, y’all ready?”

“Go ahead and send us the address, we’ll catch up.” Yeongmin gives you a playful push out your door, turning to ask her why before she shuts the door. With that, you go ahead down to his car and open his passenger door. “Hey, the girls are gonna meet us there so can you send me the address really quick?” You haven’t looked at him yet, trying to get your phone out of your pocket. Haechan, on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. You chose to wear an off the shoulder shirt to attempt to blend in paired with some of your nicer jeans and the exposed skin has his heart racing. “Hyuck?” Turning your attention to him, you take in his attire. Leather jacket with a white undershirt and black jeans paired with a black belt. Damn, he actually looked good.

“You look beautiful, y/n.” He sounded like he didn’t mean to say that out loud, his voice barely over a whisper, but that didn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you, not too bad yourself.” Haechan’s face was similar to yours, his cheeks a soft shade of pink. Not just from your compliment, but from how effortlessly the forgotten nickname rolled off your tongue. A few minutes felt like forever passed, the two of you staring at each other with something similar in each other's eyes. For Haechan, it looked like a longing feeling swirling around in his eyes while for you, he could see the same little girl you were back when you were kids and he wonders how much time has passed since he’s seen you like this. You’re the first to break contact, looking away awkwardly as you open your phone to Yechae’s messages. “The address?”

“Huh, I’m sorry, what did you ask for?”

“I asked you earlier for the address to the party.”

Haechan’s lips formed an o as he took the phone you handed over for him. He took the phone, this time your fingers just miss each other and you can’t deny you miss the warmth that radiates from him. After he types in the address, he hands over your phone and the two of you drive silently to the party with the music volume on low. It doesn’t take you long to arrive, people coming in and out as he opts to park up front. “Isn’t it illegal to park here, I thought this was for members only?” You’re unbuckling your seatbelt as you look through the window at the Greek letters above. “Not for me it isn’t.”

His words alone leave you slightly confused, but you get out of the car and as he walks on the other side, he has his hand out for you. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Grab it, we’re a couple, remember?” Oh yeah, you’re here as his girlfriend. Right. Hesitantly, you take your hand within his and interlock your fingers. You haven’t held his hand since you were kids, but damn did it feel right. His hand, obviously larger now, fits with yours perfectly and you shove down the butterflies that climb up your throat as the two of you go inside. The room was crowded, people everywhere leaving little room to actually get through. Haechan’s grip on your hand tightens as he guides you through the room and you can feel the stares of everyone on you as you two make your entrance. The two of you find your way through the main area and over to a slightly less crowded place where some familiar guys stand around a table playing beer pong.

“I want you to meet some guys.” He says loudly to make sure you can hear him over the music. You simply nod and stand a little closer to him as people walk past you. Haechan calls over a few guys you’ve only seen in passing, one very tall and the other slightly shorter with multi-colored hair. “Johnny, Taeyong, this is my girlfriend y/n, y/n, this is Johnny and Taeyong.” Johnny, the taller one gives you a sweet smile as he grabs your free hand and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.” Taeyong laughs as he pats the others back. “Watch it, Haechan is giving you the death glare.” Haechan drops your hand as you shyly smile, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his hand firmly on your hip. “It’s nice to finally meet you y/n.”

“You’ve heard of me before?”

Taeyong and Johnny exchange looks as they smirk. Haechan on the other hand turns his head as he begins to blush. “Lover boy over here talked about you nonstop when we first met him, i was starting to believe you weren’t real until he told us he finally asked you out.” Taeyong’s words came to you as a shock, not believing Haechan had talked about you to anyone before. “Believe me, he’s definitely down bad for you. You got a good one, Haechan.”

“I know.” He replies with a wide smile as you turn to face him, you’re definitely going to question him on this later. “We’re gonna go get a drink, I’ll catch up with y’all later.” His hand leaves your hip, immediately intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives both boys a hug. You wave them goodbye before Haechan leads you two into the kitchen. “Want anything?” He asks, looking over the table with a variety of alcoholic drinks. “I’ll take some water, I’m not sure if I wanna drink tonight.” He simply nods, respecting your choice as he himself grabs a beer. Just as you’re about to leave, you and haechan turn to see a girl walking in with her arm wrapped around the guy she was with.

“Haechanie, I didn’t know you were coming!”

Judging by how tense Haechan felt beside you, you can only assume that this was his ex, Bomi. “Uh, yeah, I didn’t think you’d be here either.” His tone was flat, but his face was mixed with pain and uninterest. “Yeah, I came with Kai, Kai this is Haechan.” Her smile was fake, even you could see that and the guy she was holding onto gave one similar as he replied with a hey. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there, and who are you?” Her eyes looked soft, but if you looked any closer you could see the burning flame behind that glossy coat. Her lips were turned upward into a smile, but you knew she was lying between her teeth to make you seem less important, to make you feel less important.

“I’m y/n, Haechan’s girlfriend.” You said, squeezing his hand in yours. Haechan came back to his senses, looking over at you with a fond smile. You could feel his gaze on you, but you wanted to mess with his ex a little more. “Who are you? I don’t think I caught your name.” Bomi laughed, a little too loud as she threw her head back a bit. “I’m Bomi, Haechanie’s ex.”

“Oh really, never heard of you.” Your lips purse up a little as you look over at Haechan, his eyes softening when yours lock with his. You honestly could get lost in them if you didn’t realize the amount of people who were staring at you right now. Your attention turns back to Bomi and her new arm candy, her cheerful expression now long gone. “Sorry, we were just stopping for a drink, but it was nice to meet you.” And with that, you guide Haechan from the kitchen and maneuver your way around with him in hand till you reach the stairs. Haechan had silently been following you, thoughts swimming around in his head. “You know a room we can go to that’s clean?”

“Moving pretty fast now aren’t we y/n.”

“Oh shut up, just get us somewhere quiet.”

Haechan smirks as he leads the two of you upstairs, going down a hallway till he stopped at a room and pulled his eyes from his pocket. With his free hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside with your hand still in his. “I lock it when I’m out so that no one can do anything unholy to my bed.” His words register in your brain, but you’re too distracted as you look around in the room. There were vinyls plastered onto the walls, wireless headphones sitting carefully on the side table next to his bed. Haechan drops his hand from yours, furrowing his brows at the lack of warmth that reaches his fingertips while opting to sit on the bean bag across from his bed. You sit down on his bed, noticing he too was already sitting.

Patting your thighs, you take a deep breath in to collect your thoughts from all that’s happened since you two got in while Haechan looks deep in his own head. “So, she’s something.” He laughs softly, fiddling with his fingers as he stares into his lap. “Yeah, she is.”

“And you talk about me?”

Leaning back into the bean bag, he looks at you through hooded eyes. “I did when I first got accepted in, they went around asking personal questions as a bonding experience and you were all I really knew so you naturally came to mind.” You’re fighting the frown as you think about how long you two have hated each other, almost forgetting why you two grew apart for so long. “You okay, after seeing her and all?” With his lips pressed together, he simply nods as he closes his eyes. “I’ll have to be, I mean she looked pretty pissed to see you with me, so that’s a step right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It felt very awkward to be having such a deep conversation with him, but somehow it also felt right. Your silence is interrupted when your phone starts buzzing, pulling it from your pocket and bringing it to your ear to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re here, where are you guys?” Yeongmin called you, you assumed from downstairs as you can hear the faint music through one ear and the louder music through the phone in the other. You mouth to haechan that they were downstairs and ended the call telling her you were on your way. The two of you interlock your hands before going back downstairs, looking for the girls within the crowd. From the staircase, you can barely see them on the dance floor and you signal to haechan to follow you. As you make your way through the sea of bodies against bodies, you see your friends laughing and holding hands as they dance together.

“This is so much fun!” Wonchae smiled at you as she and Yechae held each other close. “If you have any more parties, invite us again!” Yeongmin and Sin-ra smiled at you and haechan, giggling to each other as their favorite song was blasting from the speakers. Haechan drops his hand, turning you around with his hands on your hips. He leans in as he pulls you against him, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna dance?” There’s a faint blush on your cheeks as you simply nod, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you fall into a rhythm and sway with each other for what feels like hours. After dancing for so long, you’re starting to feel the effects of the night and tell Haechan you’re ready to go home.

You lost the girls way earlier before you decided to leave, sending them a text to tell you when they make it in. Haechan leads you outside, the wind blowing slightly as you two step out of the party. You shiver slightly, rubbing your arms as you walk over to his car. Haechan notices the goosebumps on your skin, immediately taking his jacket off and throwing it over your shoulders. “You’re gonna catch a cold, take it back.” As you’re protesting, he simply shakes his head. “I’m alright for now, just keep it on so you won’t catch a cold.” The warmth of the leather silences you, walking around the front of his car and resting against the top as he stands in front of you.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“For my first college party, yeah I had fun.”

Haechan gasps as you look at him confused. “This was your first party?” You simply nod, chewing on your bottom lip before laughing softly. “As you can tell from my friends, we don’t get out much and the only other person i talk to is Mark.” Haechan steps closer to you, losing in the distance as he tilts your head towards him with his finger. “Let me at least make it memorable.” Your face is bright red as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You stay still, afraid that if you move, he’ll move and you hate to admit to yourself that you don’t want to move. His lips were soft against yours as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands reach out for him, gripping the fabric of his shirt while his hand moves from your chin to cup the side of your cheek.

Haechan was the first to break contact, pulling back as he looked down at you. “How was that for a first college party?” You shake your head, letting go of his shirt to give him a slight shove. “Take me home, idiot.” He laughs as you stand from the hood of his car and the two of you get in, driving around to your hall before you go your separate ways.

The next few weeks go by smoothly, you and haechan seem to be fooling everyone with your physical touch and playful banter when you’re out together. He sits with you when you two go to the cafeteria, eating meals together during your breaks between classes. He’ll meet you at the neo cafe and order your drink for you before you arrive and if you’re tutoring Jaemin, he’ll bring you your drink and sit with you till you’re done. He’s made it a habit to bring you to Taco Bell after your tutoring sessions are over and you two even spend time in the library working on your project, but haechan doesn’t get much work done before he’s bugging you for attention. After all these years, you almost forgot how touchy he is, always grabbing your hand or resting his head on your shoulder and vice versa. The two of you have everyone fooled, even Mark.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you and haechan, I mean one day you were seconds away from ripping his throat out and now you’re giggling at his texts.”

You sheepishly smile as the two of you walk back to his dorm, holding your bag in your hand as you think how much has changed between you and Haechan. Even when you’re alone, he acts no different. He still grabs your hand, plays with your hair, complements you every morning and smiles at you as if every day was the first day you saw each other. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any different towards him, but you always push those feelings down and remember how you got here. He wants her back, he doesn’t want you, and every time you think of them two wrapped up in each other's arms like how he does with you, it hurts a little more than it should.

“I guess people change, I mean we were friends for a while when we were kids, that played into it too.” You were being truthful, reminiscing on the crush you had on Haechan growing up. Never in a million years would you have told him that, but in a way you also never were given the chance to. Now, here you are with those same harbored feelings and still don’t have a clue with what to do with them. After this is all over, he’ll leave your life once again and you’ll be left to fill the void that no one has ever come close to when it comes to him. “Yeah, I’m just saying, it’s a little weird to me, but I’m happy that you’re happy.” You give Mark a playful shove as you two walk inside his hall and go up to his room. You and Mark haven’t had much time together since you and Haechan started ‘dating’ and today was one of the days you two planned on studying in silence till you both grew bored and ended up listening to music.

“What’s on the agenda today? I got a psych essay to get out of the way.”

“I have some more lab work to go over, but I’m essay free.”

Mark opens his door for you and follows behind as you set your bag down beside his desk. The two of you go about doing your work as your phone starts to buzz on the desktop. Picking it up, you see you have missed texts from Haechan and a few missed calls. Just as you’re about to call him back, his name pops across your screen. Swiping across your phone, you bring it to your ear. “Hey, I’m so sorry my phone was on silent and I just now—“

“Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you by your last class for hours.”

Judging by his tone, he seems annoyed. You felt guilty, forgetting to text him before you met up with Mark to let him know of your plans. “I’m so sorry, Mark and I met up and were studying in his room.” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes if you could see him. “I’m on my way, meet me in the car.” With that, he hung up as you let out a sigh. “Who was that?” You’re packing up your bags as you look over at the window. It’s raining outside and it doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon. “Haechan, he called and wanted me to meet him outside, i kinda forgot to tell him I was coming with you and he’s kinda upset.” Mark gave you an apologetic smile to which you returned. “Be careful out there and don’t worry, I doubt he’s that mad, okay?”

You simply nod and bid him a goodbye before leaving his room and heading downstairs. When you go out the front doors, Haechan is already parked out front and you hold your bag to your chest to protect it from getting soaked as you run down to his car and quickly get inside. Haechan was gripping the wheel as he stared down at his lap, not looking your way once as you shut the door as you got in and placed your bag between your legs rather than in the back seat. “You okay hyuck?”

Haechan was quiet, you knew he was upset, but you’re starting to think there were underlying reasons as to why. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with Mark.” You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you reach over to touch him. “I said i was sorry, it completely slipped my mind and I didn’t mean to not tell you, he just asked me if we could hang out since we haven’t recently.”

“How hard is it to send a simple text, y/n?” He definitely was pissed, his knuckles turning an off shade of white with how tight he was gripping the wheel. “Why are you so mad, you know Mark, it wasn’t like I was out with someone random?”

“I’m pissed because I had someone come up to me asking why my girlfriend was walking off giggling with some guy, you ever think of that?”

He’s unbelievable, he’s literally unbelievable. The nagging feeling that this whole situation wasn’t going to end well resurfaces without hesitation, leaving you with a sense of deja vu. “Fake girlfriend, did you forget that?” Haechan laughs, not a genuine laugh, but a laugh that almost felt forced. “You’re right, how could I forget, I mean you’ve done it before so I’m not surprised you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what exactly, donghyuck.”

“Stealing Mark away, taking all of his precious time and acting as if I don’t exist.” His words hit you hard, bringing you back to the day you two first parted ways. When Haechan first introduced you and Mark, there was no doubt in his mind that you two would get along and he was looking forward to spending his days with both of his closest friends, but even at such a young age, jealousy got the best of him. Upon meeting, you and Mark clicked as if you were meant to be friends, talking and laughing together while Haechan stood silently and felt lonely. He didn’t like how quickly you got along with Mark, he didn’t like how much he hated bringing you two together, he especially didn’t like how much resentment he felt towards you even if he didn’t know what he was feeling.

He told you he hated you that day, out of anger and hurt. Not once did he mean it, in fact there were so many times he had wished he never said it and turned the clocks back to keep him from hurting you so badly. The damage had already been done, tears falling down your young cheeks when he told you he had never wanted to be your friend again. You were confused, hurt and overall overwhelmed with the events that happened that day, but you turned your sadness into the same hatred he said he had for you and from then, the two of you never had a nice thing to say about one another. Now here you were, sitting in his car with the hopes of you two finally making progress gone.

“I don’t steal his time, he gives it to me, but you wouldn’t know that because you force people to be around you.” You didn’t mean it, you didn’t even want to say it, but haechan was prideful and used his words to hurt others when he was hurting and you weren’t going to let him win again. “Did you forget that I’m your first actual boyfriend and I’m not even dating you, it’s kind of pathetic you had to get a fake boyfriend to even know what it’s like to have one.” You didn’t realize when you started crying or why you were crying in the first place. Maybe it was because you were angry, angry that he was angry at you over something so little and so stupid. Maybe it was because he hurt you and continues to hurt you over and over and the lines between what was real and what was fake have been blurred.

“Fuck you haechan, I mean honestly, I thought maybe you’d change, maybe the boy i knew then was still there.” He still wasn’t looking at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes and see the damage he’s done. “Maybe you didn’t know me at all.” He knew it before you said it, that everything the two of you had been building up to for nearly a month was all over. He didn’t want to believe till you said it, but deep down he knew. “Fuck this, fuck your stupid little plan to get your shitty ex back and fuck you.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and got out of his car, leaving Haechan with his thoughts and the tears that slid down his cheeks as he watched you walk away. Part of you wanted to go back inside to Mark’s room, but that would mean you’d have to explain everything and that was all too much for you to unpack right now. Instead, you walked back to your hall, soaking from head to toe by the time you made it to your room. Wonchae was sitting in her bed when you came in, immediately questioning you why you were soaking wet, but when she realized you were crying, she took you into her arms and held you till you settled down.

That night all the girls came over and stayed with you till you cried yourself to sleep. You had come clean to them all, telling them about the pretend dating to help him get his ex back all the way to your childhood with Haechan and even the fallout of your friendship. You even told them about the feelings you were harboring, sobbing through your broken words. They tried to reassure you, telling you that they believed there was something real between you and Haechan, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe them, not after what you just went through with him. Thankfully for you, it was a weekend and you didn’t have classes till the following Monday and that meant you didn’t have to try and avoid him as much as possible.

By the beginning of the week, you do your best to dodge him in any way. You stopped going to the Neo cafe for the first week, Sin-ra taking the initiative to bring you your drink every morning before your first class. In the class you shared with him, at first you’d sit in the very back to avoid being near him and people quickly took notice. It wasn’t long before whispers started going around that you two had broken up and Mark was a part of some of the rumors. When he got wind of everything, you told him the same thing you told your friends and he apologized to you for everything. After so many years, he finally knew why you and Haechan stopped being friends and he felt responsible for that, but you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done then or now.

It was nearing your last week for your project and you’re sitting in your shared class with Haechan who was nowhere to be seen. As you’re leaving when the professor tells everyone class was dismissed, your professor stops you and asks you to stay behind. “I wanted you to know that Donghyuck already submitted his portion of the project, so I’ll only need the remaining 25% from you.” You’re confused and it’s evident on your face as you grip the bag over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we agreed to split it down the middle, what did he submit already?”

“Are you sure? He emailed me this morning and submitted the essay portion and said you’d do the final draft on the slide presentation. Get with him and let me know before the deadline.” You simply nod and bid him a farewell as you leave your last class for the day. There are so many thoughts in your head as you pull your phone from your pocket and just as you’re about to text Haechan, you bump into someone on your way out. “Oh I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, I’m so—y/n?”

When you look up from your phone, you see Johnny standing in front of you. He was a little taken aback to see you, but still happy that he ran into you. “Oh hey, what’s up?” The two of you make small talk as you stand outside the building, chatting about the little things in life. “Oh before I forget, you’re coming to the party tonight right?” You’re unsure what to tell him, your silence leaving open room to answer. “It’s okay if you can’t make it, Haechan said you two were working on a big project so I get why you haven’t been around, but if you come tonight we’d be happy to have you.” Hearing Haechan’s name felt almost foreign, having neither your friends or Mark even uttering his name over these last few weeks. “I’ll see if i can make it.” Johnny gives you a genuine smile before heading off and you two go your own ways. When you make it back to your hall, Wonchae and Yechae are sitting on Wonchae’s bed as they watch a movie on her laptop.

“Wanna watch the movie with us, I can put it on the tv?” You smile at Yechae’s offer, but simply shake your head. “I’m gonna go to sleep instead, thank you though.” You slip underneath your blanket and lay in bed till your eyes get too heavy to keep open anymore. You’re not sure what time it was when your phone starts going off, waking you from your peaceful sleep. Your fumble as you sit up in bed, grabbing your phone from your side table. Through tired eyes, you see an unknown number calling you and hesitantly, you slide across your phone to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/n, we need you here! Haechan is whining for you.” You recognize Johnny’s voice, the mention of Haechan’s name sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. “Where is he?” You try to be as quiet as you can, looking over at Wonchae and Yechae cuddling silently in her bed. “He’s upstairs, I kind of lost him when I was busy cleaning up his puke, but I managed to snatch his phone before he disappeared to call you.” With a heavy sigh, you climb out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt before telling Johnny you’re on your way. Without a car, you’d have to walk all the way to the frat house where the party was thrown, but it’d take too long for you to get there so you opt to run instead as you mentally thank yourself for taking track one year in high school.

As you’re reaching the doors to the house, you’re panting and out of breath while dragging yourself inside. Pretty much everyone was gone and the scattered cups on the ground gave you an idea of how the night went. Johnny was crouched down picking things up off the floor when you walked in, looking your way as you tried to catch your breath. “Oh hey y/n, you okay? You look kind of..sweaty.” You shook your head as your hands rested on your hips, taking in slow deep breaths to steady your breathing. “Where is he?” You were here to find Haechan, as much as you wanted to make small talk with Johnny, you were too tired to even try. “Check his room, Taeyong should still be up there with him.” Nodding, you drag your feet towards the staircase and tiredly make your way to the top. Going solely off memory, you walk down the hallway till you’re standing in front of Haechan’s room. From inside, you can hear faint crying and Taeyong’s voice.

Pushing the door open gently, you see Haechan sitting on his bed with a cup of water in his hand while Taeyong is sitting beside him. When he noticed your entrance, Taeyong stood up from the bed and silently walked towards you. He placed his hand gently on your shoulder before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. You stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy who was silently sniffling as he stared down at his cup in his hand. “Do you have your keys, I can bring you to your room if you do.” He simply shook his head, gripping the cup in his hand. A sigh left your lips as you turned to his closet, rummaging through his clothes. “W-what are you doing?” You pull a shirt off a hanger, walking over to him. “You can’t sleep in that, it has liquids on it.” Haechan stays still, as if he was frozen in time. His body shook slightly every time he hiccuped, but he didn’t bother moving.

“Get changed please, I’ll leave so you can—“

“Please don’t leave me.”

You’re biting your bottom lip as you see his head rise, meeting his swollen and teary eyes. “Just for tonight, I just need you tonight.” He looked so sad, tears dried on his cheeks as he fought back the tears. You should’ve left, hell you shouldn’t have even come, but you needed to make sure he was okay and from the looks of it, he was far from it. “I’ll turn around, but you need to get out of your clothes and into something to sleep in.” Silently, he stands from his bed and sets the cup on his desktop. You handed him the shirt you grabbed from his closet, walking towards the door and facing away so that he could get dressed. After a few minutes pass, Haechan tells you he’s done and you turn around to him laying in his bed on one side, leaving space for you on the other.

Walking over after turning off the light, you pull back the blanket and slide into the space he’s left you. The two of you lay in silence, the moonlight shining through the cracks of his window cover. “I’m sorry.” Haechan’s voice was barely over a whisper, but neither of you could bring it to look at each other. “You’re drunk, you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You could feel how tense he was beside you, if you reached out to him you were afraid he’d fall apart. “I’m sober enough to know what I'm saying and I need you to believe me on that.” You shift onto your side, tucking your underneath his pillow as your eyes fall to the side of his face. He can feel your gaze on him, waiting for him to continue. “I didn’t mean anything I said that day, even back when we were kids.

“I was jealous of your friendship with Mark, in a way I still am because he’s been by your side this whole time and because of my insecurities, I missed all of that.” You knew he had a hard time believing in people after he had been let down many times before, you understood where he was coming from, but that doesn’t justify his actions. “I’m sorry you had to come out here at this hour, I don’t remember much of what I said to the boys, but it was enough for them to call you and for that, i'm sorry for wasting your time.”

The light coming from his window was just enough for you to see the tear that slid from his eye down the side of his face. “Was she here tonight?” You knew it was none of your business, you had no right to be asking him this, but part of you needed to know. “Yeah.”

“Did you guys get back together, I mean that was the whole point of this right?”

Haechan turns on his side to face you, tucking his arm underneath his head to prop himself up to your eye level. “She tried, but I told her it was over when she left me for that guy.” You’re a bit taken aback, why did he turn her down? What was the point of all of this if it was not for him to win her back. “Why, didn’t you want her back?” Haechan’s eyes locked with yours, searching them for something to give him the confidence to go on. He could see it in your eyes, but for so long he had been too scared to ruin what you two were building. “Spending this time with you blurred everything around me y/n, she was what I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t till I lost you that I knew what I needed instead.”

You felt speechless, staring at him with parted lips. He had just confessed that you were what he wanted and that alone made your head feel dizzy. Now lies the difficult decision, to lie and pretend you don’t feel anything to protect yourself or run to him and trust that he’ll protect you instead and all the love you have in your heart for him. “Say something please.” Hesitantly, you bring a hand up to his face, brushing his hair back to get the best view of him as possible. “Looks like we have a problem.”

“And that is?”

“I broke one of the two rules we made, well technically I broke them both but the first rule was broken after you were an asshole.” Haechan sat up, propping himself on his elbow as he stared down at you. “Does that mean I can kiss you?” A smile spreads across his lips as he watches the light reflect in your eyes. You give him a nod, all the confirmation he needed to lean down and capture your lips within his. The kiss felt familiar, like he had done this a million times before. Your arm wraps around his neck, pulling him close to you as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. The two of you healed a part of you that was long overdue, the two best friends within you now reunited. Now that you’re older, you not only have your best friend back, but the young boy you loved is too there beside you.

so for starters if you’ve gotten this far, why thank you pook 🥹i’m really sorry if the ending feels rushed, i’ve never written something this long before so i was struggling i tell ya🥲🫂 and i just wanna say ily and you’re doing great and if you liked it,, pls lmk! it always helps when you share your thoughts w me 🫶

[tenswrld]

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

[diorcities]

strawberries & cigarettes

pairing: haechan (donghyuck) x reader. genre: angst, smut towards the end, fluff? content: enemies to lovers, slow burn, college au, boyband, boyband!haechan, love triangule, kinda?, karina as jeno's s/o, ningning. they're on a play. haechan's a dick, reader's a dick. a lot of cussing. female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), virginity, unprotected sex, breeding kink. mention of alcohol, marihuana, sharing bed. wc: 15,9k readproof taglist: @sundamariis — @smwhrinthehaze <3

summary: the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.

"stop!" your voice reverberates on the four walls of the school of arts' auditorium, leaving everyone present perplexed and immobile; they believe that any movement might trigger armageddon. not that you aren't already upset. "tell me it's a joke. jisung, tell me it's a joke," you ask your assistant, who is more useful for carrying your things than assisting with important matters.

"it's a..."

"shut up, i don't want to hear it." your gaze sweeps the room, and as it passes, their eyes avoid yours, refusing to make contact. a sigh escapes your lips as you glance at your wristwatch. it's 22:48. "i don't have time to repeat for the thousandth time what you have to correct, you..." you pause, waiting for the girl in the middle of the stage to remind you of her name.

"yeji," she says. "sure," is her only response. "jisung, who's next?" you ask, watching the boy nervously scan the character list. "benvolio," he replies, trembling more than usual. you give him a bored look before instructing him to bring in the next person. "uh... i'm afraid renjun isn't here," he explains.

"renjun is...?" you repeat, having no idea who he is. "benvolio. he's the guy who plays benvolio," he blurts out, speaking so quickly it takes you a moment to process his words. jisung looks up from the ground and is likely convinced you've lost your mind. you're getting there. "alright," you manage to reply, your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw. "and the next one?" you ask, "the character, jisung," you insist, preventing him from mentioning another name you can't remember. "well... romeo and juliet are missing," the boy informs you tensely, your unnerving calm unsettling him.

"did you call them?" the boy nods, "they aren't answering." jisung awaits your response, which comes without delay. "can anybody tell me where everyone is!?" you explode, provoking a range of reactions. jisung covers his head with the list as if the ceiling were about to cave in, the spotlight assistant accidentally shifts the spotlight, and the girl in the middle of the stage lets out a shriek.

"it's almost midnight, it's friday," he tries to explain. "the play is on monday," you remind him, pointing a finger. the girl's voice captures your attention. "what did you say?"

"i said they're at the dream society party." those words hold no meaning for you. the idea that you should be aware of such events only fuels your growing anger. "can you explain what the dream society is?" you ask, using all your willpower to avoid shouting. "it's the band, the rock band," jisung explains. you look at him disapprovingly. "the entire school is there; it's the party for their new album," the girl continues. "renjun, benvolio, romeo, and juliet are probably there."

you contemplate for a few seconds, chewing gum furiously, almost able to hear jisung's heart pounding as he waits for your reaction. "okay, we're going to that party." the boy's eyes widen. "do you know where it is?" you ask. "y-yes, yes. it's in..." he stops suddenly, his eyes wide in recollection.

"what now, jisung?" you ask, heading for the exit. "lights off! you can go home," you inform, hearing the relief behind you. "well, uh...," you hear him say. "no stuttering; you know i hate it," you interject. the boy clears his throat before continuing.

"well, the dream society... the band... the party. you're going to kill me if i don't tell you."

"i want to kill you already," you mutter, encouraging him to continue. "it's made up of students, from the art school," he says. "okay, you're not telling me anything," you mumble, walking down the halls toward the parking lot. "you know some of them," he insists. "i doubt it."

"jeno," he mentions. you try to remain composed as you search for your car keys. "chenle, mark, and... donghyuck," he blurts out just as you find the keys. his sigh of relief quickly turns to annoyance. jisung must be joking. "there's more..." he continues, nervously. you spin on your heels and stare at him. jisung knows how cautious you are about any mention of donghyuck; you'd react with rage if you heard his name. one of the rules he must adhere to is not to make contact with donghyuck. if he did, you had several options: ignore him, curse him, or your favorite, punch him in his pretty face. but you're not in the mood to scold him for mentioning donghyuck's name, even though it's forbidden, so you push him to continue. "go on."

"the party is at his house."

act one.

"look up romeo and juliet. i'll go for benvolio," you order jisung as soon as you park. by now, you have become fed up with the party unfolding outside of your comfort zone (your car): sweaty bodies, music blaring in your ears, people, and forced conversations. it has become a hotbed for your patience. you take a couple of breaths before leaving.

you follow jisung to the entrance of the house as a somehow shield to the world; no one expects you to be there, and so making an appearance at your enemy's house could lead to a whole misunderstood, something you don't want to feed on. you need to get out of there soon. once inside, both have gone in different directions to cover more ground and, therefore, get out of that place as quickly as possible and go back to the well-being of the auditorium. your eyes look in all directions in search of the lost characters in your work, and also in case you see someone in the crowd. As you move towards the house's entrance, the music becomes louder, and more people start crowding. the smell of weed reaches your nose, causing you to wince. your hand quickly covers it when you collide with jisung's back. "hey!" you yell at him, about to tell him to focus on the target when your eyes flick from his body to the person blocking the way.

lee donghyuck.

"look who we have here, the lap assistant, and the movie star," he whistles. you notice jisung clench his fists ready to step out for you (which you don't thank him enough) before you move him out of the way and face him. the approach has to be friendly; it's his house. if you want him to let you in, both will have to leave the feud for another day. "look… you," you name, causing the boy to shrug. "you didn't call me an idiot; that's progress," he says. you take a breath of air before continuing. "we only want to look for the boys from the drama club, nothing more. let us in, and we won't bother you," you explain, with wounded pride that you have to give in. but sometimes, you have to give in to win.

"those from the drama club," he repeats. "yes, benvolio, romeo, and juliet," you reply. donghyuck frowns, "who?"

you grit your teeth and look at jisung for support. "karina, renjun, and jeno," the boy explains. donghyuck raises his eyebrows in realization, bringing a hand to his chin. you look at him reluctantly, feigning a grimace that doesn't reveal your annoyance. "it's not possible," he says finally. you're stunned for a few seconds, watching him look at you with amusement. "pardon? how is it not possible?"

"we'll play in a few minutes; jeno is our bass player. you can't just take him with you and leave like that," he explains. "dnd Renjun?" jisung asks. "ah..., i don't care about renjun," he says, shrugging.

"okay, okay. you keep jeno," you resolve, looking at jisung, seeking support in your decision. "we'll look for renjun, then," you add, nodding. "well, nice to see you, but we're going." you say your goodbyes, exhausted from being nice, taking jisung's hand and pushing him towards the house, being stopped by the fact that donghyuck doesn't move an inch to let you pass. "yeah… there's a little problem for you guys," he blurts out, looking suddenly embarrassed. "you're not invited to the party."

"you must be kidding," you finally mumble, making donghyuck smile triumphantly. "can't you stop being an idiot for a moment?" you feel jisung's hand on your arm, warningly. the friendly approach: forget it. your tetra: forget it. The possibility that he would let you into the party: forget it. "okay, there are things more important than your stupid band and your fucking existence." donghyuck looks at you with fascination. "there it is, the real yn."

"fuck off." it's too late. you're furious beyond fuming, rabid. you could explode right now and bring everything down. donghyuck's laugh makes you angrier. without being able to avoid it, your hands go to his chest, pushing him. however, the boy doesn't stop laughing. "you're a childish, dipshit jerk," you say, with each push. "fuck off!"."

"you've already said it."

"i hope you enjoy your damn party, you jerk," you spat, noticing jisung's grip on your arm, turning away from the boy with an amused look. "have I told you how cute your eyes look when you're angry?" his comment only makes you angrier. you release jisung's grip only to flash your middle finger in response, letting him finally lead you to your car. "idiot," you mutter, covering your face in an attempt to calm down. "maybe we should go ho…" you hear the boy next to you say. "break in," you interrupt, defiant. jisung nods slowly, exhaling. "break in, understood."

your eyes light up as an idea occurs to you. the trick is that nobody recognizes you and wants to alert donghyuck. "take off your jacket," you order. "and i need you to take my car," you add, causing jisung to stop his movements to do as you requested. sometimes you're grateful that the boy is willing to do whatever you order. among all the chaos, you like him. but you would never tell him. you snap your fingers for him to react. "he must think we left for my plan to work," you explain. "you will take my car for about two blocks. when i find benvolio, we'll meet there," you continue. "understood?"

jisung nods quickly before offering you the jacket. you rush to put it on and hand him your car keys. jisung gives a lucky thumbs-up before you approach the party again. you let your hair down to make the perfect curtain to cover your face, and with jisung's jacket, it's impossible for people to remember you. after all, no one knows you. spending time in the auditorium between classes and breaks in high school made you almost invisible. besides, your foul humor made it impossible to make friends. you knew the drama club. that was your social circle.

you're able to crash the party without regard. you almost jump with excitement if it weren't for the fact that you have to continue with the act until you find benvolio and drag him out of that place. his irresponsibility makes your jaw ache from grinding your teeth so much. the sweet desire to shout at them encourages you to search carefully. "yn?" someone takes you by the shoulder and gently turns you around. juliet's face looks at you, confused.

as if looking at you brings back her memory, she gently taps her forehead. "crap, i forgot. the drama club."

"yes, the drama club," you repeat with difficulty. "i know the lines, seriously." you doubt it. "it's just… jeno." that name. "is performing today, and i wanted to come to support him." jeno. jeno. jeno. juliet and jeno, best friends and neighbors. with those odds, you just couldn't compete. "are you okay?" she asks, concerned. maybe your face has turned red. "great," you blurt out. "now, if you'll excuse me," you say goodbye, stopping suddenly as you remember something. "you haven't seen me, is that clear?" you watch her nod before continuing to search.

okay, juliet: no. romeo: neither. benvolio, then.

you slip through the crowd, going unnoticed, hardly. people look at you strangely every time you take them by the shoulder and turn them around, hoping to find Benvolio in one of them. it seems like you're playing a game of turning over the cards until you find your match. back here, it's not benvolio. back there, it's not romeo. you find him later talking to donghyuck in a corner, and like a repellent, you go to the opposite side. you wait the time it takes for that conversation to end, and you follow him to the drinks bar.

"yn, what are you doing here?" jeno looks at you quite confused when you approach him. being at a teen party was one of the last places he'd expect to find you. honestly, he's right. "oh, i don't know," you mumble, exaggerating every word. "perhaps looking for answers as to why my characters are at a party and not in the auditorium." you watch jeno nod slowly, though he doesn't look at all guilty of that recrimination. "i apologize," he says, "but since you're here, you can stay. i'll make sure to dedicate one of our songs to you as a form of apology." you would have given in at that moment and place, except for one: you don't like rock, and two: someone catches jeno's attention.

"hey jeno!" you freeze as you hear someone calling romeo through the music. jeno waves somewhere behind you, purely by coincidence or fate, where you have seen donghyuck chatting with a girl. "this isn't over, romeo," you threaten, ready to leave before finding out if the person approaching you is donghyuck.

as you turn and flee, your face collides with a smooth yet hard surface. you caress your nose (two time in one night? it must be a record), looking up at the rest of the chest that you hit your septum on, meeting a pair of eyes that seem to shine. "oh shit, are you okay?" he asks, looking concerned. "great," you hiss. the boy moves with a spasm. "i'm really sorry." sure, he is. he looks at you for longer than usual, as if he remembered something. "wait, romeo?" he asks.

"mmm…" jeno nods. "we're in the drama club," he explains. the starry-eyed boy hisses. "i guess you're juliet," he says in your direction. "you guessed wrong," you mutter. even though that answer would have been enough to deter people from talking to you, the boy finds it funny. his laughter is heard above the music, and consequently, jeno starts laughing too. thus, you do too. "she's our director," jeno mentions. the boy nods several times, weighing the words of the black-haired man. "impressive," he says at the end, raising his hand above his head to simulate an imaginary ladder, "very impressive. my congratulations."

"thank you," you reply, suddenly feeling weird. no one has reacted like that. as if they take it for granted that it's impressive in and of itself. the star boy shrugs as if it's nothing. as if it's easy for him to spontaneously compliment people. "wait, if you're the director, that would make you…"

"shakespeare," you both say in unison. genuinely smiling is not common for you. you can see it; jeno has to look at you twice to make sure you're actually smiling. on the other hand, the star boy must think you smile often, go to parties every day, and that jeno is your friend. "have you seen renjun?" you ask jeno, remembering why you came. you watch him think before his gaze gets lost in the ocean of people. his eyes widen slightly as he finds something in the crowd. he points his finger behind the starry-eyed boy, and your gaze follows the path until it falls on renjun, talking to donghyuck, a few meters from you.

as if your gaze can sense it, donghyuck returns your gaze, at first distracted, without recognizing you, until you can feel his brain alerting him to look a second time. however, you react automatically, grabbing the boy by the shoulder, and he instinctively leans forward, within reach. your face moves closer to his, lips going to his lips.

first, there is no reaction. just your lips touching. your body is completely tense from being so close to finding benvolio, when a sudden movement causes your thoughts to shut up. the boy's lips begin to move on top of yours.

he's kissing you.

uour hands are still on his shoulders, and his hand goes to one of them, taking it between them and guiding it to his neck, before slipping out of your hand, onto your shoulder, resting on your back, drawing you closer to him.

his eyelashes tickle your cheeks, and his lips, soft, kiss yours. slowly. your head tilts to the sides when they change position. the spell of a kiss is broken without warning when his lips move away from yours. your eyes widen quickly as donghyuck takes him by the shoulder and pulls him away from you. finally, his death glare falls on you.

donghyuck gives jeno a look before taking your arm and dragging you toward the exit. you try to wriggle out of his grip, but the boy is pretty strong, and his grip is pretty hard. "i can find my way out on my own, cretin," you hiss at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. "you are a jerk. i want you to know that." you keep ranting as he leads you to the exit. "you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you," you blurt out, seeing that you're past the exit.

your hand instinctively goes to his arm, feeling it tense under your touch.

"the exit is that…"

"shut the fuck up," he hisses, leading them into a desolate hallway. he drops you between the wall and him. he looks quite angry, his hands are clenching and unclenching into fists, and his breathing is rough. his eyes finally look at you, burning with rage. "what the hell are you doing?" he releases. "shit, are you like this because i snuck into your part…?" you say before he interrupts you. "what were you doing kissing mark?" he asks. you're afraid he will release fire at any moment.

you find yourself not knowing what to say, watching his hardened features and shadowed eyes looming over you. without noticing it until that moment, you fall into the account of their bodies, almost brushing against each other. your arguing breaths intertwining in the air in between. your gazes trying to pierce each other. so close you can smell his cologne, mingling with his marlboro breath. your gaze travels to his lips, as if you could visualize the cigarette between them, exhaling smoke through his plump, heart-shaped lips. reacting quickly and cursing for what it looks like you're doing, returning to meet his gaze, only to find that he is doing the same, looking intensely at your lips. only you never smoked.

you make an effort to go back to the here and now, remembering that because of him, your characters are there and not in the auditorium. that he surely did it on purpose, just like in the past. donghyuck watches you cross your arms. "what do you care?" you ask, causing him to react by rolling his eyes in annoyance and taking a couple of steps back, putting distance between the two of you. "the world doesn't spin around you, pretty girl. i don't give a shit who you kiss." his voice sounds rather bored. "just don't kiss mark," he adds.

your laughter fills the air, a stark contrast to the boy's attitude. "you don't tell me what to do, idiot," you finally say, looking suddenly serious. "certainly, who or whom i can't kiss," you say, sentencing. a muscle jumps in the boy's jaw. "do what you want," he mutters, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare begins. "but do it out of my damn party," he whispers, his breath tickling your cheeks.

"good!" you answer, dodging him on your way to the exit, "and just for your information, maybe you should shower, you stink like cigarettes! bet your groupies wont like it."

"bet they do."

fuck romeo. fuck juliet. and fuck lee donghyuck.

you walk across the front lawn toward the street. a voice calls you over the music. mark appears out of the night, smiling in your direction. "hey, shakespeare, where are you going? are you okay?" he asks quickly.

“yn,” you utter in a low voice, resuming your march in search of jisung. "i know," he replies, earning you a look. the question about how he knows your name pops into your mind, and you answer it almost immediately. jeno.

“um… are you leaving so early?” he asks.

“yes, i… i have things to do.” of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that donghyuck doesn't want you at his stupid party like you want to be there anyway. “good luck with your presentation,” you tell him. “ah, and…, i'm sorry I kissed you,” you add, ending that fateful encounter between the two of you. that night has turned out differently than you imagined. you want it to end.

you feel mark's hand take yours, stopping you. "i don't." he watches you hide your perplexity at that confession, raising his eyebrows expectantly. you can't help but look into his eyes for a longer time, those that seem to contain fireflies. “you will,” you assure, and you wait, fearful for him to turn around and go back to the party, for him to give up so quickly, for him to agree with you. but that does not happen.

instead, he takes a step toward you, and then another, and you hold your breath. maybe he does too. his hand goes to an unruly lock on your face, pushing it away gently. “i doubt it,” he utters, just for you to hear.

act two.

the auditorium begins to empty out as students carry the romeo and juliet sets backstage. as one by one, the pieces are removed, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach; your last work of the cycle. the last play before you graduate. the memories are inevitable to stop, and suddenly, your vision blurs. you've been doing works since you realized that you could have your own criteria. you've been doing them since you were little, in the safe space of your room, but not interpreting them, directing them. seeing everything from the outside, always expectant. you've never wanted to play a role until that moment when you watched the stage empty.

"all set, boss," jisung shows up unannounced. “i can't believe this is the end,” he comments, without giving you time to recriminate him for the scare he has given you. “ugh… i didn't realize how much i liked working at the drama club,” he says, looking around the auditorium. you chuckle, causing the boy to look at you curiously. "even when i was yelling at you for not doing your job right?" you ask, wanting to sound disinterested but dreading the answer.

jisung simply replies, “that was the best part.” smiling. “it was a pleasure to have been your assistant,” he pronounces, his gaze softening with honesty.

“jisung,” you call as he walks away. the boy raises his eyebrows, waiting, patient, as if he knows. “you weren't… that bad,” you blurt out, trailing off each word, hoping he finds sincerity in your words. he nods, smiling, causing you to add “don't get used to it,” in the process. “uh, by the way,” he says, remembering something, “the principal wants to see us when you have time,” he reports.

you watch him walk away, deciding to pick up the art school principal on your way home. slowly, you walk toward the exit of the auditorium, pacing the room slowly, wanting to remember the scent one last time (excluding the smell of sweat and hairspray). all the auditions, all the plays, the moments when you eat quietly on stage, your gaze lost between the audience seats, with the dim reflector and your ideas traveling at a thousand kilometers per hour as the only company.

"hey!" a high-pitched voice screeches as you accidentally trip over his body. “ah, yn, i was looking for you.” renjun looks at you, his frown replaced by a smile, mysteriously looking glad to see you. “i just wanted to apologize for playing a lousy benvolio role. i'm really sorry, i should have taken your play seriously. you put so much effort into it and put your trust in me, and i'm really sorry,” he says, vomiting the words without breathing, his features contracted into a pained grimace. “you probably hate me,” he adds.

you look at him, breaking the silence with a sigh, "i don't know if i hate you more than i like you." the boy doesn't look the least bit offended. he shows you one of his best smiles, which lights up his face. “oh, i'll take that as a good thing,” he comments. "you know? even though everyone thinks you're evil, you turned out to be quite nice."

"who thinks i'm evil?" you question, catching him off guard. his eyes widen as if he had said something he shouldn't have said, suddenly avoiding your gaze. despite the fact that you had initially said it as a joke, the boy's reaction makes you take his words seriously. "was it your friend?" you continue, "donghyuck?" renjun denies it several times. “i was referring to the drama club,” he confesses, “well, apparently…everyone hates you.”

“old news, renjun,” you declare. you couldn't be friends with everyone, especially when the weight of directing a play fell on you. obviously, there was going to be discord, but as long as the play was perfect, you didn't care if the world ended up hating you. glory was born from hate. however, why did you feel a sting to think that lee donghyuck was behind all of that? he had said worse things in the past. their enmity went back years. their hatred, full of spite and resentment, could be felt if you shared the same room. the tension hanging in the air, making your blood boil and you hold your breath. just thinking about the other made your bodies stiffen, and a knot settle in your stomach.

renjun had said goodbye when you informed him that you should go to the principal's office. jisung had gone ahead and waited for you in the waiting room. when he saw you approaching, they entered the office. “good news,” was the first thing the man in the suit said. next to him, a woman took a seat in the chair where the director used to sit.

someone had seen the work and wanted you to present it at the art show in town. you listened intently to the woman talking about the details of the event. unlike jisung, who would blurt out “oh” and “wow” in every sentence the director said.

they wanted you to present romeo and juliet, again. all the creative protocol was in your charge. a play in the theater of the city, with five thousand people. with a lot of luck, the hundred seats in the auditorium of the school of arts managed to fill up, but the theater… it was another thing apart.

you both said goodbye to the woman and left in silence towards the already desolate corridor of the art school. both took a few steps, walking away from the office, before jisung cheered excitedly. "wait, you're going to say yes, right?" he stammered, looking concerned. your lost look found his, trying to contain a smile to no avail. you nodded several times. yeah. jisung returned to his victory chant.

your steps guided you towards the exit of the art school. as your eyes swept the parking lot, jisung announced that he was on his way out. "do you want a ride?" he asked, as your eyes found what they were looking for. “i'm fine,” you stated in a whisper, watching the boy lean lazily on the side of his car. brown eyes meeting brown eyes. smiles appearing shyly. the warmth of a hug impregnated with its aroma of amber and wood.

his lips left short kisses all over your face, and your hands put distance between the two of you, remembering where you were. “we're in the art school,” you muttered, causing the boy to chuckle. "i'm sorry," he apologized, her eyes flashing with a million emotions, “shall we go?”.

mark had attended the day of the play, and since then, something had blossomed. your heart beats faster when he's near, and an electric shock jolts through you when your eyes meet. however, you haven't kissed since the day of the party. waiting. it's something new for you. him. what you're feeling.

you catch mark staring at you. a nervous laugh suddenly attacks you. "what?" you ask, seeing him raise his eyebrows. “you're very happy today, that's all,” he reveals, turning his gaze to the road. “i'm happy,” you concede, reaching your hand up to her hair. "do you know the play?" you continue, hearing mark nod, "they want me to present it at the theater in town." you watch mark raise his eyebrows in astonishment. "wow, that's…impressive." his hand goes to the hand that's combing his hair, bringing it closer to his lips and leaving a kiss on it. “impressive,” he repeats again, in a whisper.

you smile, meditating. mark leaves another kiss before interlocking your hands and resting them on the panel in the middle of their seats. “this calls for a celebration,” he declares. "wait, what?" you ask between laughs. mark joins them.

the car falls into a pleasant silence. the evening breeze ruffles your hair. the sweet feeling of being this way numbs your extremities. why didn't i meet you before? you think aloud, quickly realizing your serious mistake. however, mark takes it seriously. "i don't know," he simply replies, "fate works in mysterious ways." "do you think it was fate?" you ask, curious. “surely,” he declares, drumming his fingers on your hand. you give him the reason probably was.

as soon as mark has parked the car, both run into a furious donghyuck.

"where the fuck were you?" he bellows, stopping to give you a fleeting glance. you can see how the fact that you were there answers his question, which makes him angrier. "we have to show up in a few hours, and you think of running away with your girlfriend?" he spats.

"well, at least you know what it feels like," you counter, crossing your arms. mark looks at them both, not knowing what to do or say. jeno, who had been observing everything from a distance, makes an appearance to calm the waters. "it's already here, isn't it?" he tries. donghyuck rolls his eyes at his words. “you can't expect us to waste time while you're being romantic, lee,” he complains, “you have responsibilities, abide by them,” he sentences, before walking away into the house, entering the garage.

jeno raises his eyebrows and half-smiles apologetically, before following the dark-haired man's footsteps into the house. you sigh, feeling your muscles tense, as mark stands in front of you, looking quite affected. "hey..." he starts saying. “he's an asshole,” you mutter, imagining pulling that runny tongue out of him. "sometimes." every time, you mean. "maybe, if..." you discover his intentions before he can formulate them. “never,” you settle, “mark lee, never,” you repeat, emphasizing each word.

“i'm not asking you to become friends,” he explains, “just…don't insult each other,” he requests. "at least try." you look at him, reluctant to do as he asked, easily giving in to the way he is looking at you. "fine," you hiss. and with that, you both head inside.

the garage is mainly decorated by the band's instruments. the battery is in one corner, and at the other end, two sofas (a large one and a small one) surround a box that serves as a coffee table. the walls are decorated with posters and license plates, and the lighting is rather dim. jeno is tuning his bass on one of the sofas, while karina is whispering next to him. donghyuck is on his back talking to a girl who is trying to calm him down, putting her hands on his shoulder and hair. just looking at him makes you feel tense again. mark notices, pulling you close and placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

the girl who is chatting with donghyuck finally looks at you at the entrance, raising her eyebrows in surprise. donghyuck gives them a doggy look before leaving the room. “you must be yn,” she says, reaching out and holding out a hand. you don't know if you should smile or not, so you just don't. “yn, this is our vocalist, ning ning,” mark introduces the girl, “and you know chenle. he's in our course.”, he points to the guy at the keyboard.

“my pleasure,” the girl greets, “will you come to our gig?” she asks. and honestly, you don't know what to answer her. mark hasn't invited you. carrying your thoughts a few minutes ago when you told him about your work, the thought that mark hasn't even told you that he's going to play today causes the knot in your stomach to tighten. the possibility that he doesn't want to spend time with you invades your thoughts.

“i…” you start to say, before donghyuck interrupts you. “she doesn't even like rock,” he says, referring to you. consequently, four pairs of eyes watch you. you glare at the boy, remembering afterward to be nice. “that is to say…, i have not been able to appreciate the genre. but it's never too late,” you confess. the truth is, there's no real reason you hate rock. at least, not one you can remember at the time. you've never taken the time to listen to it, so to say you hate it is pretty extreme. it's easier to say that you hate it than to have to explain that you have no reason to do it other than donghyuck likes it, and therefore, you repelled it.

you feel mark leave another kiss on the crown of your head in the form of support, under the brown-haired gaze. a staring contest over who can break contact first begins. "uh... shall we start the practice?" ning ning asks, getting the boy's attention, who just gives a short nod. mark walks away towards the white guitar resting on the support, and with him, the warmth that emanates from his body. not knowing what to do, you do the most sensible thing: sit next to karina, who pats where jeno had previously been.

“should we play…?” chenle asks, being interrupted by donghyuck. "it doesn't have a name yet, no." is all he says. “lovesong,” ning ning proposs. donghyuck nods and everyone goes to their places, mark strums the strings of his guitar, and in response, donghyuck counts out with his drumsticks.

«i know i love you.

이 제로의 세계 속. in this zero world.

i know you're my one and only.

이 끝이 없던 어둠 속. in this endless darkness.

like oh my god, so holy.»

you watch in fascination as mark plays the guitar with nimble fingers. the enveloping melody of the song puts you in a state similar to ecstasy. the way in which the instruments complement each other, producing an absorbing sensation. jeno's bass with mark's guitar makes the perfect duo, and the drums give it the touch it needs. and ning ning's voice, in perfect harmony, manages to unite everything in a melody that resembles a siren's song. ning ning is like that, bewitching. you can notice how her presence attracts the rest to herself, like an anchor.

you help mark with the cables of the amplifiers while chenle, jeno, and karina are in charge of loading the things into ning ning's van, who is smoking a cigarette outside next to donghyuck. both in a pleasant conversation that is alien to your ears. you watch donghyuck laugh and joke, and restlessness seizes you; the image being quite strange, almost intimate. you look away finding mark paying attention to the same panorama you are looking at. “it's not fair that they're not helping carry things,” you complain, suddenly feeling annoyed. mark chuckles, pinching one of your cheeks, "i think that's my punishment for being late."

“oh,” you say. "you should do it, then." his face twists into a grimace, “what? but it's shared fault,” he argues.

"why's that? i'm not in the band."

“but you're dating a member of it,” he accuses. you open your mouth and nothing comes out of it, while mark looks at you deeply. your body suddenly rises in temperature, making it difficult to breathe regularly. "uh..." you stammer, not knowing what to say. the words melt on your tongue, the heat reaches your neck and cheeks. you are blushing

“pretty,” mark declares, taking in your face. his gaze softens, his eyes widen slightly. you share glances for a few seconds, before he remembers something that causes their features to change. "hey, about today's gig."

“don't worry,” you request, brushing it off. maybe mark has reasons for not inviting you to his little concert. whatever the reasons, you aren't upset about it. maybe a little discouraged. “i have things to do and…” you say, leaving the words hanging because the reality is that you have the night off, and you expect to spend it with him.

“oh, i…,” he reacts deflatingly, “well, i was going to ask you if you wanted to see me play tonight, but…” he explains, fixing his gaze on the floor, looking interested in the carpet, and anywhere in the room except you. “i don't want you to think that i'm inviting you because ning ning told you that we were going to play. i was actually going to ask you when we were packing, but i messed it up, right?" ends with a question, waiting. studying your features. “we can drop you off at your house, on the way to…”.

“i have nothing to do,” you quickly confess, catching the boy off guard. you deny several times, not believing how foolish and desperate you sound. however, there is no going back. “i mean, i remembered that…,” i have nothing to do, you want to say, “i want to see you play,” you finish.

his brown eyes caress yours, before sliding to your lips. her mind meshes thoughts, his face gives them away. your gaze travels over his tanned skin. eyes, nose, mouth. lips parted, holding a prayer. you lick your lips in an involuntary gesture, returning to his gaze, shadowed. his eyes search yours, pupils dilated, asking for permission, before leaning dangerously towards you. your lips almost brushing against each other, your mind evoking the sweet taste of liquor in his mouth on the day of the party.

“okay, guys, we're leaving now,” ning ning announces, clapping her hands several times, drawing everyone's attention. the atmosphere of the moment breaks. mark sends you a pained look, before taking the last cable and encouraging you to follow him outside. the look of donghyuck throwing knives in your direction.

the journey is quite pleasant, the opposite of what you expect. the atmosphere is loaded with jokes and laughter between them, and you as if seeing everything from the outside. laughing, but not interacting. mark has noticed that you are thinking, and has put an arm around your shoulders, drawing you to him. “oh god, i remembered something,” ning ning says, in the front seat, “mark, thank god you decided to show up. donghyuck was about to pull his hair out with his bare hands,” she reports, emphasizing with her hands. donghyuck, next to her, snorts.

"well, it was for a good cause," the black-haired man defends himself, "i was celebrating something."

karina gets interested, “wait, you're dating?” she asks, astonished, before immediately hitting jeno's shoulder. “you owe me twenty dollars,” announced. you are stunned by their interaction, listening to ning ning whistle and share a look with mark, who laughs, waving a hand. “no, not that,” the boy replies, searching your gaze for approval, “yn will present his play at the theater in town,” he finally announces.

there is a reaction shared by the band members. chenle raises his eyebrows slightly, jeno and karina let out a "wow." and ning ning whistles again. "that's great, yn!" congratulates the girl, "don't you think so?" she asks the boy next to her, who simply says “quite a lot.” glancing fleetingly in the rearview mirror. "hey! watch out for the driver,” he protests when ning ning smacks his arm, joking.

you finally arrive at the place where they will play tonight. a bar on the outskirts of seoul. inside, loud music plays in surround style. drinks come and go. mark hands you a beer, which you swallow with difficulty. “yo-dream,” they roar, clasping their hands in the middle of the circle, preparing for the introduction.

the lights dimmed as the band take the stage. the crowd erupt in cheers. ning ning's voice greets the audience, and before long, the band start playing. all attention on her, ethereal. it fits perfectly with the music. chenle joining as second vocalist.

«i know it's real, i can feel it.

난 문제 투성이 love sick. i'm full of problems.

길이 없었어. there was no way.

죽어도 좋았어. i wish i could die.

i'm a loser in this game.»

they have the audience spellbound. singing the lyrics as if they are in a spell, and ning ning is the cause. with her pale skin, with a siren voice. she even catches the eyes of the band members. captivating. chenle glances in her direction, jeno sometimes looks at her, before turning back to the audience, donghyuck, hidden behind ning ning, seems to be staring at her, even though for a moment you think he is actually looking at you.

«please use me like a drug.»

your eyes go to mark, surprising you to see them already looking at you. it feels fascinating to watch. he has donned a tank top, which shows off his chiseled arms and collarbones. his black hair falls to all sides, which he combs back from time to time, leaving his forehead free. the lighting frames his angular features. his wet lips from constantly licking them part, in concentration, while his fingers strum notes on the guitar. the muscles in his arms tensing under his smooth skin.

you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to touch them. soft under your touch, warm. steady, as it looms over you. staring at you, from above, before bringing his mouth closer to yours. his pelvis rubbing against you. donghyuck's suspicious look on stage takes you off guard, taking you out of your thoughts.

your breath quickens at your thoughts. blurring look. you pull yourself together by casting glances around you, thankful that they can't read minds and your wild guesses.

the band eventually says goodbye. you go behind karina to the backstage, looking for mark. you find him keeping his guitar in the lining, a smile blooming on your lips before donghyuck appears in your way. you are about to hit his body if you aren't faster. your eyes meet.

the malicious desire to reprimand him for watching where he was going grows at the base of your throat. however, you remember that you will try to be nice to him for mark's sake, so you clear your throat, in an attempt to prepare yourself. “it was fabulous,” you admit, making no effort to lie. the truth is, it has been wonderful, but saying that to donghyuck would cause his ego to grow.

you watch him frown, and you almost want to roll your eyes. “hey… i guess for both of us's sake we can try being nice,” you ask expectantly, watching him take his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket. one holds a cigarette box, and the other he holds it to you. the rings on his long fingers send chills from your hand to the rest of your body.

truce.

“congratulations on your work,” he says, before breaking hand contact. “it was obvious that they were going to want to present it at the town theater. i liked it,” he adds, causing you to look at him in disbelief. “you haven't even seen it,” you object.

donghyuck is silent as if debating whether to say it or not. in the end, his lips part and he pronounces “yes, i did.”.

you take his confession seriously when you reply “i thought you hated them,” accusing him, unable to avoid it. "what makes you think that?" he asks calmly. "because you said it. you hate them the same way you hate me,” you reply, “remember?” the memory flashes across his face, finally laughing through his nose. “so you do remember,” you mutter. “something i said in fourth grade? of course,” he sneers.

"that doesn't mean you didn't say it."

“i was a boy, yn,” he pronounces. “sometimes kids talk nonsense,” he continues. “like saying they hate something when they really like it,” he finishes, fixing his gaze on you, taking your breath away. "i have never hated you."

there it is, again. that unknown sensation seizing you, confusing your senses. your mind blurs, and nothing coherent is able to form, under the penetrating gaze of the boy, absorbed in his own thoughts. his eyes, which always look like strong coffee, melt like a shot of expresso. an exhalation leaves his lips, snapping you out of your reverie.

“well…, your comment started our feud,” you expound. “mmm…” he mumbles, looking right through you. “just the result i didn't want, i'm afraid,” he says, before gesturing to the cigarette box in farewell and moving on to ning ning. you, in response, go to mark.

“hey… have you seen…?” he inquires when he sees you approach, however, he stops mid-sentence when you take him by the shoulders off guard and bring your face closer to his.

your hand goes to his neck, soaked in sweat, drawing him towards you, merging your lips with his. kissing them testing them. his hands go to your lower back, closer. his mouth opens slightly, deepening the kiss.

you hang on his neck when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, impregnated with beer and mint. moving your face for more access, his movements turn from cautious to agitated. suddenly feeling watched; across the room, someone looking back at you. you break the kiss against your will by running out of breath. you hear mark swallow slowly, before directing his lips to your cheeks, leaving a trail of kisses. your eyes turn away from donghyuck as your hands, still on mark's neck, close in a hug, breathing in his scent. “wow,” he sighs, “i think i'm getting used to being kissed off guard,” he teases, circling your waist.

after the concert, you go back to the garage of donghyuck's house: the band's refuge. jeno and karina are in a corner, where jeno is trying to teach her how to use the bass. mark has taken a seat on the single sofa, with you on his lap, chenle is on the long sofa, stretched out and staring up at the ceiling with the beer can on his stomach, and donghyuck has taken the coffee table

“tell us more about your play, yn,” ning ning urges, sprawled between chenle's legs, before taking a swallow of her drink.

“oh, it's romeo and juliet,” you report, “the contemporary version,” you add. “great,” ning ning admits. “by the way,” jeno says, walking over to the group and forcing chenle up to give him and karina a seat. "you haven't told us if we want to be in it again, did we do so badly in romeo and juliet?" he asks, sharing a look with karina.

"no, you do great," you confess, feeling nervous. it's true that you should ask your characters if they want to continue being part of the cast for the presentation in the theater, but the truth is, an unconscious desire has stopped you from doing so. "the truth is… I want to be in it for the first time before, you know, graduate," you admit, "i'm not sure I'm going to direct a play again, and...".

"don't say that," mark demands. "you're wonderful at directing," he assures, giving you a stern look.

"you'd do well as juliet, i bet," karina says, glancing back at jeno, who nods. "i'm willing to play romeo if you wish," he agrees.

"or..." chenle's voice comes. "mark could be," he opines, shrugging his shoulders. mark's eyes widen in astonishment. "wait, are you serious?" he stammers. ning Ning shrugs. "just saying." his brown eyes search yours for answers. "if Shakespeare accepts me, my answer will always be yes," he concedes, a peculiar twinkle in his eye.

you don't know why you feel horrible.

act three.

"benvolio? are you playing?" jisung's eyes widen in a battle of emotions. disbelief. emotion. intrigue. ecstasy.

you nod several times. "mmm..." you state. "you're the ideal candidate. you know the lines, and you almost defeated renjun at the auditions," you explain. "i still don't know why i didn't get the role..." he comments, meditating. you touch his shoulder gently. "that's because you were ideal to be my assistant. call me selfish," you confess.

the fact is that the work is next week. the fact that jisung is playing benvolio has nothing to do with the fact that time is not in your favor. the boy knows the lines and has been renjun's substitute in the last play. honestly, he is the perfect benvolio. also, you have to focus all your attention on teaching mark his lines. it's quite a difficult process because you both spend more time making out than practicing the scenes. it's hard to avoid it. look at his lips as he recites the words of romeo. his hands, with long fingers, touching his chest covered by a linen shirt. it's hard to contain the urge to kiss him right then and there. more difficult to contain the thread of your thoughts about that transparent garment.

"wow, being an actor is really hard," he decides on the way home, letting out a whistle that he accompanies by shaking his head. "i see why you're always in a bad mood," he confesses. the car is silent for a few seconds as you give him a reproachful look before his laughter fills the air. "i was kidding," he admits. "lousy, by the way," you comment before stroking his hair, smiling. it's your favorite thing. running your fingers through it. combing it. especially for what usually comes with it: mark's little moans into your mouth when you kiss.

after the first kiss, you're doubtful about the next step. you find yourself sinking into the depths of your thoughts while looking at him. the desire warming your chest, feeling your heavy tongue when someone decides to talk to you in those moments. and you know mark thinks about it too, yet every time a kiss escalates in intensity, mark stops.

you both want it to be special.

"you haven't played anymore?" you ask when he falls silent. "yes, small places," he explains by tapping on the flyer, "but i thought you didn't want to go since we've been busy with the play, and performances are late at night. i thought you deserved to sleep." you observe his profile, and you lean in to leave a kiss on his jaw. "i always want to go," you whisper in his ear. you hear him chuckle slightly. "really?" "mmm..." you mumble. your lips leave kisses on his ear, down his jaw and neck. you hear him swallow hard, his breathing becoming ragged.

after seeing them play that night, you find yourself wanting to see it again. it's the first time you've experienced something like that, the emotion, the ecstasy of the moment. especially what comes after each presentation. the intimate moment in donghyuck's garage, where they chat about anecdotes and joke with each other while low music sets the scene. friends. that's how it feels.

now that you and donghyuck have declared a truce, everything is more enjoyable. your body no longer tenses, the knot in your stomach is almost imperceptible. the atmosphere is no longer tense between you. finally, both are beginning to realize that it isn't so horrible to be in each other's company. watching him laugh so easily while joking with chenle. maybe it isn't as terrible as you imagined.

"shit," mark growls seconds before the car stops moving. he manages to park it on the side of the highway, both stunned, gaping at the car slowly lifeless. mark tries to start the engine, to no avail, cursing under his breath. "wait here," he speaks before opening the door. "do you want me to call a mechanic?" you propose, sticking your head out the window, and watching him head for the hood. "no need," he mutters, glancing over. "although…," you watch his face light up as he comes up with a solution. "could you call donghyuck?" "i don't have his number," you reply, watching him approach the passenger door and holding out his phone to you in response.

you take the cell phone in your hands, not believing what you're about to do. the phone rings three times before the boy's voice floods the line. "you're late. again," is the first thing he says, in a monotone. "uh…, it's yn," you clarify. you take your silence as a hint to keep talking. "hey, mark's car broke down on the highway on the way to your house," you report. "mark said to call you," you finish.

"tell mark i'm on my way," he replies. you thank in a low voice, ready to hang up when his voice stops you from doing so. "why didn't you call from your phone?" he asks, a tone that reveals curiosity in his voice. "i don't have your number," you reveal, feeling embarrassed. you hear his laughter fill the earpiece. mark becomes interested when he hears you laugh. "did he answer you?" he asks, leaning over the driver's door. "he said he'll be here in ten minutes," you reply. "we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members.

mark returns to the space inside the car, leaning back in the seat, and blocking glances. your hand reach for his cheek. the passing headlights of cars on the freeway illuminating his profile. “well, this is humiliating,” he mutters, referring to the accident. you deny, smiling, however, you could tell that he was hesitating. you lean in and place a small kiss on his lips, in an attempt to reassure him, lifting your body from the seat when it increases in intensity. mark welcomed you into his lap as you climbed in, tilting the seat back for more comfort. his hands going to your hips, while yours traced circles on the soft skin of his neck. feeling him under you.

leans towards you, leaving several kisses on your lips. you laughed without avoiding it. “mark,” you point out. “mmm…it's addictive,” he apologizes. “your lips always taste like strawberries,” he confesses, and you feel yourself swoon as you lean in to kiss him.

a sigh leaves his lips as you slowly moved your hips against him. your pulse soaring in your ears when you could feel it. getting hard against your crotch. you move over him again, back and forth, your lips parted with the sensation. the bulge in his crotch pushing against you. your face contracting as a wave of pleasure hit your body. "mark..." you moan.

two sharp blows sent them both into a spasm. as promised, donghyuck looks at you through the car's tinted glass. you rush down from mark's lap, as the boy lowers the window. “hey,” he greets. donghyuck looks down at both, arching his brow. he knows.

he clears his throat, glancing at the highway, disinterested, before opening the driver's door, prompting mark to get out of the car. the black-haired man gives you a short look before getting off.

you cover your face once you make sure both guys aren't paying attention to you. embarrassed, ashamed. fearing that he has heard you. fearing that he has seen them through the glass.

they return to the car minutes later. finally come to life. by the time they start back toward donghyuck's house, the sun has gone down.

"we're really sorry," mark apologizes to the other members. the breakdown has taken up the time they were going to allocate to practice. although the apology is directed towards everyone, donghyuck responds.

"it doesn't matter," he replies.

they end up playing jealousy, jealousy and shinunoga e-wa. the way home is quite silent. no one is joking, and no one is chatting. you even come to believe that they are avoiding you. mark doesn't even notice when you tell him about it when you get to the garage. "maybe we're all exhausted, we've been playing various places the last few days," he tries, but you don't buy it. "i'll go talk to him," you inform him before heading out to find him.

the marlboro trail leads you to it. and ning ning. you fear you are interrupting the hectic conversation they are both having, ready to talk to him at another time. after all, neither of them has noticed you. however, one word catches your eye.

"what will you do when she sees us, huh?" hisses ning ning. "you can't help it forever, hyuck," he adds, taking a short silence that he uses to take an inspired drag on the cigarette in his bony fingers.

you hear donghyuck complain. "she's going to kill me," he assures. "she'll still kill you if you don't tell her."

that conversation is not making sense to you. you are hesitating between interrupting them or leaving, noting that the conversation is heading towards private territory. you don't feel good eavesdropping, especially if that conversation turns out to be a confession between them. but a million unknowns float in your mind. who are they talking about?

"we just reconciled a few days ago. you can't expect me to tell her and have her hate me again. i don't want to ruin it," his confession catches you off guard. the tone of his voice reveals the effort it takes to say it out loud. reconcile with whom?

"she's going to find out sooner or later," ning ning states.

you don't have to connect the dots to conclude that they are talking about you. however, you can't find out about what.

"what do i have to find out?" you ask, finally stepping out of the darkness. donghyuck seems to have seen a ghost, and ning ning simply disappears into the house. "what don't you want to tell me?" you reformulate.

he recovers almost immediately, getting up from the wall where he was leaning and approaching you, menacingly. "who do you think you are, sneaking into conversations that don't concern you?" he accuses, towering over you. "don't try to change the subject." you threaten, discovering his intentions. "what is it that i can't find out?" you ask again.

donghyuck ignores your questions and enters the house, with you on his heels and recriminating him. it's true; you aren't going to give up that easily. with every step donghyuck takes, the chances of finding out what he and ning ning are talking about go with him. you can't let it happen.

donghyuck stops abruptly when you stand between him and his path of escape. your hand instinctively closes on his jacket, preventing him from moving. you look at him sternly, causing him to shoot daggers at you with his eyes. the discussion catches the attention of the others, peeking into the hallway where you and donghyuck are having a staring contest.

"listen to me," he says. "it's a huge opportunity," he begins, and as he explains, your brow furrows more and more in confusion. "i couldn't say no, okay?" he urges, looking at you with pleading eyes.

the realization hits you in the stomach as you realize where the conversation is heading. you feel his hand put on yours, but you break the contact as if it burns. “you… idiot,” you declare, feeling your voice burn in your throat.

you push past him on your way out of the house, hearing him call behind you. you turn a deaf ear to their calls, your mind plunging into the purest anger you've ever felt in your life. how could you have let your guard down? how could you think that you and donghyuck could be friends?

"yn, please."

"leave me alone!" you roar. “i… i'm a fool,” you continue, watching him deny. "yes, I am." you agree. "i should congratulate you; you've won, okay?" you admit.

"what's going on?" mark's voice comes from behind them, causing them to turn their attention to him. “let's give him the good news,” you propose. “dream society will be performing at the town theater,” you inform, feeling donghyuck tense. “his leader wanted to give you the news, but he thought it would be better to wait until I left so i wouldn't find out until the day of the presentation,” you conspire. "probably because he wanted to see my stupid face when i saw you."

mark looks at you, and the absence of surprise weighs heavily in your stomach. "you knew?".

"yn..." he tries to call you, tries to pull you out of the hole you've fallen into, the one you've been pushed into, by his hands, by donghyuck's, by everyone's. he looks at you and you feel like dying, but it's his voice from behind that make the execution.

"yn..." you interrupt him, accusing him with your finger. "you always have to take everything away from me, huh?" you spit “whatever you wanted to prove, well done, you proved it,” you add before walking away, not looking back.

act four.

“you're leaving in ten minutes,” the av assistant reports, peering into the dressing room.

the truth is that you are more than ready. you have fixed yourself in record time, just to be able to review and coordinate with others. the scenery is on stage, the seats are filling up. extras are in their costumes. everything is going smoothly, except for one thing.

it has been a week since you last went to a dream society presentation. mark seems to understand why. just seeing donghyuck's face makes you want to vomit bile. the best thing you can do is break all contact with him, in hopes of extinguishing that knot that oppresses your chest.

jisung comes out from behind the screen to show you his outfit. you tilt your head, watching the boy before reaching over and combing his hair. “better,” you declare.

you look at your phone for the fifteenth time tonight. no notifications. no messages from mark. romeo is not there.

"seven minutes!"

“shit,” you mumble, drawing the attention of the people in the dressing room. the last thing you want is for them to get stressed knowing that a major part of the work is missing, so you smile.

he is not answering the phone either, and boy did you do it more times than you wanted to admit. he has simply disappeared. a part of you begins to fret, plotting the most terrible thing you can think of. mark would have to be on his way to the theater if he is going to perform with the band afterward. it is unlikely that he would not come when he should. if it is not for the work, for the presentation of his band. a thought surges, like poison. what if donghyuck is behind all this? what if mark being romeo was donghyuck's plan to humiliate you in front of the whole town? you are on the verge of collapse.

"five minutes!".

"shut up!" you receive shocked looks from everyone in the dressing room.

without saying a word, you leave the room. you do not notice jisung following you. "something happens?" he asks. finally, you break down, “romeo…mark doesn't show up,” you correct. your gaze clouds; a moan tears from your throat even when you try to stifle it. jisung pulls you closer to him in a hug. "not a biggy." he reassures. you hear him hum, thinking. "jeno?" he suggests.

“it will take more than five minutes to get here,” you comment. besides, if donghyuck and mark are behind all of this, jeno is surely behind it too. “renjun,” he utters. you walk away, compiling yourself. it is not like you to whine. you must be looking for solutions. “he only knows benvolio lines,” you recall.

“huh,” you hear jisung utter. although when you look for his gaze, it is at a point behind you. your eyes go to the place where he is looking, holding your breath.

“mark's car broke down.” donghyuck approaches carefully, as if a sudden movement could break you.

“three minutes!”.

“we need mark,” you say in his direction. “he's not going to make it, yn,” he says, studying your features. “shit, shit.” jisung raises his hands to his head.

"is he coming?" you ask, fearing the answer, "or is he the final piece of your plan?" he tries to maintain a neutral expression, but you know him, you know when your words hit home, and this is one of them. however, you don't find victory in it, much less comfort. "i don't think mark would do anything to hurt you," he says sincerely. "and you?" you say without thinking.

"two minutes!"

“wait,” jisung says, drawing your attention. "you…" he hesitates to look at you when his eyes land on donghyuck. “you've seen the play a couple of times. in rehearsals, right?" both gazes fall on donghyuck, waiting for the dark-haired man's response.

donghyuck just nods slowly.

do you know the lines of romeo?" you ask, trying to hide your astonishment. "yes, i've read something."

"they're out in a minute!"

"jisung, take him to the dressing room. we have to improvise a bit," you announce. jisung steps forward, showing him the way to the dressing rooms, but you stop donghyuck before he gets away. "if this is another one of your jokes, you bet i'll go for your head," you hiss, watching him nod, looking at the bottom of your face to avoid looking at you.

«these violent delights,

have violent ends.»

the play starts, and the whole time, you are holding your breath. you force yourself to take slow breaths and stay calm. even if it goes wrong, it's not the end of the world. in any case, it would be the end of your career. nothing to worry about. you come out in your scenes and deliver every single line you know by heart. it's nothing new to say them; you always knew them. it's the experience, for the first time in front of the public. your body feels light, the moment feels unreal.

your body tenses when jisung and donghyuck come on stage almost halfway through the play. they exchange a dialogue.

"are you in love?" jisung asks, looking at donghyuck. you bite your lips, thinking of a prayer. "out," he replies. "of love?" jisung inquires benevolently. donghyuck's gaze goes to the boy. his features show nothing more than the ghost of a lament. "the one that i love doesn't love me back," he utters, his words emitting sadness to the public, his look causing a pang in your heart.

the scene changes to another. one by one, the work is coming to an end. you can glimpse the band members in the audience. jeno and chenle give you thumbs up, and you have to try not to laugh right then and there.

until the scene you had practiced with mark comes. many times. in rehearsals. backstage. in your car.

donghyuck delivers each of his lines to perfection. it's a little contradictory that he would have remembered them all just by reading the work once. although you don't underestimate it. donghyuck is pretty smart, you know that, and he knows many topics. you've seen him chat with the members when they're relaxing after a performance. so when you witness the emotions he inspires in each of his words, you can't help but believe that he really means them.

then he leans towards you, and impulsively you do too. he has removed the rings from his fingers when he places his hand on your cheek, his face moving closer to yours. your eyes close, feeling his breath mix with yours. your lips finally meet, and he explodes in your chest.

donghyuck kisses you slowly, and you feel your body melt into the other's mouth, savoring the kiss. his body hovers over you, causing a shadow, hiding the desire of the public. feeling his silky lips against yours, you find yourself wanting more. but the kiss doesn't last more than five seconds, and the moment comes to an end when donghyuck's body moves away from you, and you fall into the realization of your thoughts as you kiss him.

and like some sort of magnetic feeling, your eyes travel to a dark corner of the theater. a single figure stands there, as if heading backstage without being seen by the audience, but stops at the last second to witness this exact moment.

you both leave the stage, avoiding each other.

"well done," jaemin congratulates, in the role of mercutio. "it's not over yet," you both answer at the same time. jaemin stares at you, hiding his amusement. "break a leg," he wishes, watching you go off in opposite directions.

shit, what just happened?

the work finishes wonderfully. mark appears backstage, apologizing until he's breathless. he explains that on the way to the theater, his car breaks down, and he has to call a tow truck. his phone dies after calling and notifying donghyuck, with no way to contact you. you can tell that he really feels it. you reassure him that you aren't upset and that it isn't his fault. the last thing you want is for him not to do his best in his presentation by thinking about that kind of nonsense.

the band goes up shortly after the play. those from the drama club watch the performance from the wings, deciding that the views are the best. as always, ning ning introduces the band. her harmonious voice is heard through the speakers of the town theater. "this song is called 'strawberries & cigarettes,'" she announces.

act five.

your body feels like it's floating with mark next to you. the van is full of glee and ready to burst. jisung, jaemin, and renjun have joined in the celebration, causing them to be crammed into the seats. finally, the wars and disputes have ended.

the entire school of arts attends the celebration to bid farewell to the last semester.

the dreams have gathered in the patio of the place, toasting with beer and laughing. "i dreamt a dream tonight," you're surprised to hear donghyuck recite romeo and juliet. jaemin replies, "and so did i," before taking a drink of his beer. "well, what was yours?" you ask. "that dreamers often lie," he utters.

that little scene makes you remember something that had surfaced in your mind after the presentation of his song. your attention goes to the boy next to you. mark has been silent since they left the theater, his face reflecting nothing more than sheer absence. lost in thought, you leave a little kiss on his cheek; you don't want him to continue to torture himself thinking that he failed you in the play, so you come up with something. "by the way," you hear a small "mmm…" before muttering, just to him, "strawberries and cigarettes?" you ask, funny. your attempt to get his attention pays off. "mm…" he agrees, absorbed. "donghyuck named it," he declares, looking at you as if he wanted to find something before looking away, perhaps finding what he was looking for.

you stay hanging, in automatic mode, with a lost look. looking for donghyuck by inertia. their eyes meet, transmitting endless emotions without labels.

the night takes its course, but you get stuck at that moment. watching everyone have fun, toasting, dancing. mark has broken away from your side at one point, and at another, someone handed you a beer that you declined as best you could. the party fades until the members scatter again in the place where you stayed all night.

by the end of the night, everyone is all drunk, except you.

you help jaemin pick up the empty cans and put them in a garbage bag. jeno has taken renjun inside the house when the boy fell asleep on the grass. chenle is throwing up in a bush, and jisung doesn't let go of ning ning for a second, who is smoking calmly next to him.

"have you seen mark?" you ask him. she just shrugs. "i think i saw him leave in his car," she comments.

when the temperature begins to drop, they all go inside the house. "okay, let's divvy up the rooms," jaemin proposes. in the end, chenle and jisung take the giant sofa in the living room, and jaemin settles for a sheet and a cushion on the floor. donghyuck appears just at that moment. "you can take my bed," he offers in the direction of you, ning ning, and karina; jeno says that she will sleep in the van, and by default, donghyuck takes the sofa from the garage.

once everything is decided, everyone goes to bed.

to your and ning ning's surprise, karina has been asleep since before the party ended. in a deep sleep, it's hard to wake her up. you and ning ning lie down on either side of her motionless body.

no matter how hard you try to fall asleep, it's impossible. you can barely get into the bed, not a very comfortable position, and ning ning and karina have taken over the sheets. you stare at the ceiling in silence, debating whether you should just try to sleep or stay awake, considering that it's almost dawn.

however, you end up ruling out both options. your feet take you to the corridor as if they have a life of their own, although deep inside you know that they are paying attention to your deepest desires. trying not to wake anyone, you stop in the middle of the room, realizing how pathetic and desperate your decisions make you look.

"are you going to stay there and watch me sleep?" donghyuck mutters. you see his silhouette sit up on the sofa. it's too late to regret it. "don't you have another sheet?" you ask, watching him sit on the couch. the light hardly enters to see his features, but you can feel his gaze crushing you. "i'm afraid not; i've given them to the dreamies," he explains.

"oh, okay. i'm sorry; i'll let you sleep then," you say, making the move to leave.

"stay." you hear him say clearing his throat before continuing. "uh…we can share mine."

“i don't think it's a good idea,” you think aloud. “you're drunk,” you point out, quickly clarifying, “i didn't mean you're going to do something; i'm just saying it because you'll regret this in the morning.” when you can see him stir.

“i don't think i'm going to regret making sure you're okay,” he says.

there was. the dilemma. to leave. or to stay. donghyuck or…

“okay,” you whisper.

you close the distance between them, watching donghyuck make room for you on the sofa. he passes the sheet over your bodies before laying his head next to you. your bodies so close. legs trying not to get tangled. your hands brushing his chest. “you're shaking,” he comments. you don't know if it's just because of the cold. "i'm sorry," you apologize.

you feel his hand looking for yours under the sheet, taking them to his lips, expelling his warm breath. you are disconcerted when you don't smell a trace of liquor, coming to think that perhaps accusing him of being drunk had been your pathetic excuse. "better?" he asks. you nod slightly. the dim lighting barely reveals his smile. his eyes close sleepily, and you fear that this is the last chance to say it; he would slip out of your reach.

“donghyuck,” you call. his eyes widen again, warming your insides. "i…" god, why did it cost you so much? “it's okay,” he says. “i want to say it,” you murmur. you see him pay attention. “i'm sorry to tell you all those…things. i'm a stupid. it was a giant opportunity, and i just ruined that special moment with my attitude and… i'm so sorry.” your gaze clouds over with contained tears. “it's okay to hate me for the rest of your life,” you sob.

your words are followed by silence, coupled with donghyuck's rhythmic breathing. you feel his lips rest on your forehead. “i thought you would know by now,” he murmurs. you look up to meet his gaze. dark, as if the stars of the night sky had been swallowed. “i could never hate you,” he confesses. his eyes close by inertia under your gaze. “after all, all my love songs are for you,” he reveals, so low, for your ears only. he keeps his eyes closed, as if afraid of finding rejection if he saw you.

your hands go to his cheeks, prompting him to look at you. you study his features, scanning his face in the dark, although you don't need to see to know where his moles paint his face. "careful," he warns when your gaze lingers on his lips for a longer time.

your mouth imagines what they taste like this time if you try them. marlboro. beer. sweet.

a gasp escapes your lips unconsciously, catching donghyuck off guard. your tongue holds a plea, which doesn't need to leave your mouth when what you ask for is fulfilled.

donghyuck's lips devour your mouth fervently with hungry kisses, wanting to appease a long-held desire, wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, eventually getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, your legs wrap around his waist, a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire. him, all your senses scream. him. him. him.

his movements become erratic, clumsy, desperate, trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrust into your hips in an unexpected movement, feeling his erection against your belly.

your gazes meet between gasps.

"i don't..." you start saying, seeing him open his eyes with blows. “shit, forgive me,” he hastens to say. the very thought made your hands shoot up his arms, stopping him. “no, no,” you utter, making what you meant to say clear. “i…want…i want you to,” you confess, relieved that he hadn't brought up the intrinsic drawback you were both aware of.

“i just…” you continue, “it's the first time i…, you know, i've done it,” you finally say, waiting for his reaction. all you got was donghyuck's deep look. "it's also the first time for me," he answers.

the confession caught you off guard, sitting up on your elbows, almost impacting your foreheads. he had caught you off guard. you never would have imagined. that the boy that he belonged to a gang and misbehavior would not have had his first sexual experience. "shit," you exclaim, "are you sure...?" you asked, being interrupted mid-sentence by him. “yes,” he states, without a stutter. “i want it to be you,” he confesses.

your heart was about to explode. “i want it to be you too,” you agree, before donghyuck kisses you.

between kisses, he deposited you back on the comfortable surface of the sofa. your hands caressed his back when his lips moves to your neck and clavicle. hair tickling your cheeks. smile tasting like honey. his moans just for you to hear. his caresses bristling your skin as his fingers leave their prints on your hips, legs, and arms. inserting them under your shirt, cupping your breasts, brushing your nipples.

your back arch. further. further. further. lifting his shirt, stopping in mid-kiss to pull it over his head. admiring for a few seconds his bare chest. tracing an imaginary path to his belly button with your finger, listening to him breathe heavily. your mouths met again as if all this time they had needed each other. hands down your waist, fingers brushing your belly. "may i?" a question. a yes as an answer.

you feel his fingers get lost under your pants, letting out a gasp when he found his way to your intimate area. putting pressure on it, before drawing small circles. the pleasant sensation of their movements causing your eyes to fix on the ceiling, blinking when you feel your mind cloudy.

donghyuck stimulates your clit with a leisurely rhythm, leaving wet kisses on your neck and shoulders, deciding that your shirt was unnecessary, and ending up on the floor next to his. thumb deciding to leave short little touches as his fingers trailed down into your folds, awakening all your nerve endings.

while everyone slept, your silent gasps and the sound of your wetness crackled in the air.

your legs go numb while a pleasant wave invades you. "that's ok?" he asks shyly. fearing that your voice would betray you, you nod effusively. your hands instinctively going to the place where he was touching you. you got up enough to see his hand move nimbly, hidden by your pants. donghyuck watched you raise your hips and with agitated movements, started to take off your pants. his hand stops its movements, and you almost feel faint.

with one less garment, you go for his pants. donghyuck leans back on the sofa, watching you sit up and remove the piece of cloth, his hips moving up to help you. dark underwear coming out in sight, hiding a bulge underneath. "can i?" you ask the same question, looking at his eyes, the brown completely consumed by his pupils. "always."

a stain darker than the rest of the cloth reveals wetness. your hands went to his crotch, above the cloth. the moisture confirmed your suspicions: precum. you position yourself on the ground, between his legs, watching donghyuck throw his head back, you lick your lips before pulling out his member. beads of semen adorned the tip and without warning. looking prominent and big, you wonder how it'll fit in you. feeling soft yet hard, delicate and pink at the tip, with a visible vein that disappears under the base. you lean in. your warm breath hitting his penis makes him let out a small gasp. your tongue lick the drops of precum, putting the flushed head in your mouth, warm and rigid, causing him to let out a moan. the citrus flavor took you by surprise, gently sucking on the tip, hoping not to waste a drop.

“you're going to kill me,” you hear him say, before taking his full length into your mouth. your cheeks puffed out and your brow furrowed as the tip grazed your throat, pulling it out immediately and meeting the boy's gaze. like this? they ask his contorted features gave you the answer.

a line of kisses from the tip to the base, and back up, putting it in your mouth, pulling it out, and repeating the process while bobbing your head. his small moans letting you know you were doing a good job. his hands on your neck and hair, pulling him out of the picture. your hands going to the base of his member, touching his testicles and watching him tense up. finding yourself loving his whiny voice, his guttural sounds, the feel on your tongue, the trace of his flavor, wanting to taste more.

his hands take you away without warning from him. breaking contact. you watch him breathe heavily, and then watch him struggle to form a sentence. “you,” he says, on an exhalation. "i want you."

your chest explode in a supernova-like explosion. a hot sensation hit your stomach.

"do you have… ?" you see him rummage through his pants pockets. "yes."

his hands search for yours in the dim room, helping you up from the floor. finding your way into his lap. your legs are positioned on each side of his waist, putting all your weight on his thighs, in front of his erect dick hitting his stomach. your chin is lifted up by his hand when you get lost contemplate his masculinity, salivating in desire of having it again in your mouth, taste again his seed. the other hand leaving your hips to open the condom. “why did you have a condom in your pants?” you asked with genuine curiosity. his brown eyes looked at you. “i'm prepared,” he jokes, "i didn't know exactly the time you'd want it so i always carried it."

"shut up," you chuckle.

his mouth trail kisses from your chest to your stomach, lifting you slightly until you feel him at your entrance. hand looking for yours. intertwining. sharing glances as you slowly lower on him.

submerged in the coffee of his eyes, you feel him sink into you. a sharp pain expanding inside you, adjusting to the unknown. donghyuck stays still, watching you scrunch your face into a grimace showing him discomfort. he doesn't move until you push your hips into his. you need to feel it. you wanted it so much.

donghyuck expands your walls, the pain becoming imperceptible, pleasurable. a gasp escapes your lips. “hyuck,” you gasp.

his face is hidden in your chest. “feels…,” he whispers, “very good,” he finishes, before hugging you and pulling you close. the sudden movement causing both to moan for the friction of your bodies intertwined, moving with him.

your hands seek support on his shoulders, arching your hip, feeling it. propelling you up and down again, a slight burn in your groin. your mind going wild knowing that the reason was him. his half-open mouth letting out small pants, which you voluntarily let die in your mouth when you kiss him. clumsily you both laugh.

your face hiding in his neck when your legs trembled. pausing only a little because of the spasms that attacked your lower body, before continuing. increasingly erratic. each time faster. desperate.

"shit." the sound of your sticky arousal driving donghyuck insane, accompanying his hectic breaths. his desperate hands running through your entire body, while a knot grows in your crotch and expands through your belly, numbing your senses.

donghyuck collapses, as the orgasm drains him. holding you close, marking his footprints on your skin. a sharp pang tearing your breath away, before the knot finally came undone, whipping your nerve endings into sweet ecstasy.

slowing down your ride, until it was just small unconscious stimulating movements, still present from the previous episode. rocking your body while feeling him twitching against your walls, coated with your velvety arousal, sensing it slipping out every time you go down on it, shaky “i have to pull it out…,” you hear him say, “before… it stops being erect” he murmurs, receiving a short nod from you.

his hands goes to the base of his member, extracting it from your warmth. your lips leave short kisses on his temple, watching him handle the wrapping with skillful hands, before leading them both towards the comfortable surface of the sofa. his arms encircled your waist. "someone can see us like this" you whisper, remembering the pair of young adults in the next room.

donghyuck leans over and picked up his shirt from the floor, holding it out. “it's really hot all of a sudden,” he says, making excuses for why he was still naked. you put on his shirt between laughs, accepting donghyuck's invitation to lie on his chest. you hear his heart beat slowly.

"so..." you spoke again after a few seconds. “so, strawberries & cigarettes…,” you mention. you felt donghyuck's laughter rumble in his chest. "for you".

"what about lovesong?"

"same."

you meditated for a few seconds. “jealousy, jealousy?” ask now. “you'll have to ask ning ning,” he says, implying that the girl had written the song.

you couldn't contain the smile that form on your lips. again that feeling that warm your chest. love, now you understand.

“hyuck…,” you call, “don't fall asleep.” you could see the smile on his face. discovering your intentions. “we just did it and you want to do it again?” he mock. "you read my mind," he murmurs, before looming over you.

act six.

a tangle of limbs, that's what you notice first, and the absence of noise.

you sit up on the sofa, rubbing your eyes. memories of the night before overwhelm your senses. donghyuck is fast asleep, so you maneuver with difficulty not to wake him up, taking your clothes and deciding to go out and investigate why everything seems so quiet.

the first thing you see is chenle and renjun in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cereal. joining them, jisung and jaemin eat quietly at the kitchen island. “good morning, boss,” jisung greets. three pairs of eyes shoot your way. “uh, jisung, you can call me yn.” the boy just nods.

"cereals?" chenle asks, in your direction. when you nod, he adds, “can you call ning ning? she's outside, smoking," before returning his attention to what he's doing.

your steps take you to the backyard of the house. ning ning is lost in thought as she puffs on her cigarette, or so you think you notice when you reach her side, exhaling the smoke. “mark was here,” she says, “a few minutes ago.” shit.

her gaze meets yours, her features hardening. "you won't deserve him in a million years," she declares.

you return her gaze, serene. “it's not my fault he doesn't like you,” you finally acknowledge. all this time, you'd thought she had feelings for donghyuck when her heart had always belonged to the boy with the firefly eyes.

you turn your back on her, walking away, going back into the house. "it's already served…" you interrupt chenle mid-sentence. “mark, did he come by car?” you ask, urgently.

“on foot,” chenle replies, “he lives a few blocks from here.” you hurry out, past the garage and the boy who sleeps in it. your mind races with a thousand thoughts per second, and your feet move on their own.

shouldn't be far. you pray that he isn't far away.

"mark!" your breath catches from the effort of running.

he finally turns around, recognition bathing his features.

you shorten the distance that separates you until there's only a prudent space between the two of you.

"forgive me," you beg. "i did not want…".

“i wanted to ignore it,” he confesses, getting tired of waiting for you to finish that sentence. “i wanted to believe that one day you would look at me the way you look at him,” he says under your gaze. you shake your head. "that night when you apologized for kissing me." his eyes narrow, visualizing the memory. “i told you i wasn't sorry,” he quotes. “looking back, i would have avoided all this,” he admits, “maybe if i had run i would have prevented donghyuck from stealing the love that was for me,” he declares.

“if only i had gotten to the play on time. i would have avoided everything."

“i didn't mean to break your heart,” you open up. a laugh leaves his lips. “everything started with him,” remembering the kiss you used to distract donghyuck at the party. "it's only fair that i'm the one who ends it."

mark. the star boy or donghyuck, the black hole.

a sigh leaves your lips as you open your mouth to respond.

finale.

the house is quiet as the members have recently left. you look around the garage, not avoiding feeling nostalgic.

donghyuck is not on the couch, neither are his clothes. a noise coming from the floor above gives away their location: his room.

the boy glances at you over his shoulder. "you're still wearing my shirt, you know that?" you look at the garment. "yeah."

"mark?" he asks, referencing your whereabouts a few minutes ago. he watches you nod slowly, still backward. "aren't you going to look at me?" you want to know, finally making him face you.

you stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, feeling the weight of your actions and their consequences.

donghyuck clears his throat. "i suppose you're here to tell me that you've chosen him, so i'll tell you one thing: don't worry." his words catch you off guard. "it's only fair that it's him. i… was a complete idiot," he opens up. "i wasn't even able to express what i felt for you."

"hyuck." your eyes meet. "then do it now."

a silence settles between them before donghyuck breaks it.

"i'm in love with you." five words. they are enough to bring down all your walls. "i will always be in love with you." his brows furrow in sorrow. "it doesn't matter if you don't love me back."

your feet move by inertia, like a magnet attracting you. donghyuck watches you in silence, his eyes closed when you touch his cheek. finally, he lets out the air he had been holding. “i love you back,” you declare before he kisses you.

his muscles relax under your touch, his tongue savoring your lips before meeting yours. the kiss escalates in intensity, your movements becoming more frantic, and when your feet fall back, donghyuck follows you.

your bodies impact with the soft surface of the bed, taking off each other's clothes with agile movements.

“keep it on,” he requests as your hands went to remove his shirt.

your bodies came together again in a collective gasp. donghyuck closed his eyes, contracting his face, overwhelmed by the pleasant sensation that also ran through your nerves. sinking into you, your mouth opened in a ghostly moan, feeling your head spin.

his hips moved rhythmically, sliding in and out. "look at me." his eyes did as you told. believing that you could drown in the chocolate of his eyes, and in the black hole of his pupils, expanding. his muscles tensing with each thrust. moans coming from his lips, swollen and wet. your body submerging in a sweet ecstasy. eyes filling with tears.

"hyuck...,"you moan, however, nothing coherent could come out of your lips. donghyuck slows down his movements, using one of his hands to comb your hair. “without…” you start, “without condom.” you were able to ensure that his cock twitched inside you. “i'll take the pill,” you mutter with effort.

a sob leave your lips when you felt him take out his member. your gaze travel to the point where your bodies connected, watching as he removed the condom and threw it. beads of precum glistening at the tip. your hands inadvertently go towards his length. you heard donghyuck catch his breath as your hand goes up and down, milking his dick.

"it feels good. you feel good.” donghyuck sank into the crook of your neck, in a tangle of kisses and gasps. your body bristling for him. an exhalation leaves his lips when he reintroduces his member, as the sensation becomes more intense, pounding hard. whimpering as his climax feels closer, feeling you raw, skin to skin. hips colliding, everything ending and beginning there where your bodies get together with each thrust, filling you. intertwining your legs on his lower back, forcing him to go further. deeper. feeling your walls tighten around his girth as he brings both of you to their breaking point, becoming more sloppy.

"i'm so close." a sharp pinprick expand in your core, a current invading your senses. your mind clouding listening to donghyuck's grunts and gasps in your ear.

an electrical wave numbs your senses, feeling your muscles go into spasms, small and short at first, shifting under his weight, arching your back and meeting his body when he pushes into you once more, your hands squeezing his shoulders, traveling to his arms, fingers burying on his smooth skin. hearing him let out a groan, which finally released the tension in your body, both of you letting out "i love you." in one last gasp.

the body of donghyuck collapses on top of you, tensing as waves of pleasure washes over him. slowing down his strokes, going deeper and lighter, milking his seed inside you, hot. the pleasurable sensation of it making you smile softly, sleepily. tired. full.

donghyuck greets you when you snuggled up next to him. silent. the confession still hanging in the air. “i like this character evolution,” he says in a whisper, “no more idiot. or my favorite, dipshit. hyuck” he repeats, "i like how it sounds in your mouth." you leave a long kiss on his mouth. the marlboro mingling with the strawberry flavor. you complain when he broke the kiss.

"did you know that i made you angry just so you would call me that?” he confesses. you deny, laughing.

donghyuck kisses your smile.

"now you know."

[lelengerine]

to have you

pairing | streamer!hyuck x streamer!reader

synopsis | your sleeping schedules never fail to worsen, but in luck, you have him to ease those troubles — just don’t mind the stream in the background, of course.

genre | established relationship, reader uses she!her pronouns once in this, use of nicknames for reader (baby, love) and hyuck (babe)

wc | 0.9k

notes | another gamer hyuck oneshot because im actually obsessed its unhealthy atp ;0; i'd love to know your thoughts on this one!

m.list

its three in the morning, and the thuds of your soles echo through the quiet hallway as you walk down the familiar path to your boyfriend’s room — highly unaware said boyfriend is live on twitch for a 38 hour streaming challenge (courtesy of renjun doubting he couldn’t pull it off). 

you had been trying to fall asleep for the last hour, knowing all too well your sleeping schedule was declining from bad to even worse. yet no matter how much you toss and turn in hopes of falling into a comfortable position, nothing seems to make your eyelids droopy enough to fall asleep.

in the end, you sat up from the comfort provided by your bed, slipped your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, and started trudging your way over to wherever your boyfriend was  — hence why you were currently approaching his room at this ungodly hour in the first place.

you twist the cold, metal doorknob open,  the amount of lights currently in use blinding you for a brief moment. “hyuck, what are you doing?” you question with a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes to hopefully ease them to the brightness of the room. 

“baby? what are you doing up?” haechan awkwardly moves himself closer to the camera to block you out as much as possible, knowing you probably haven’t realized the camera filming him all this time. 

user_01: Y/N IS HERE??

user_02: is that why he’s blocking the cam?

“couldn’t sleep.” the frustrated whine you let out only fuels haechan’s chat as they get affirmation on your presence in the room. 

you, on the other hand, only notice your boyfriend’s streaming materials properly set up after an entire minute had already passed. he’d usually store them away in one of the drawers so that meant…

 a wave of shock washes over you at the late realization, eyes flicking wide open as you crouch down to hide yourself in the current state you were in. “oh my god, im so sorry!”

“noo y/n, love. it’s fine, hm? just fulfilling my part of a bet with renjun.” your boyfriend reassures you, stepping away from his desk to crouch down at your level, meeting your dazed eyes. he gently cups your face with the palms of his hands, placing a gentle kiss on your lips — the feeling still lingering even after he had already pulled away.

user_03: SOMEONE CLIP THIS VOD ITS TOO CUTE

user_04: hii y/n!! we’re all just chilling with hyuck dont be shy :>

user_05: @.user_03 I GOTCHU BFF

“i should’ve checked if you were up to something.” you mumble, soft enough to not get picked up by the audio from haechan’s mic.

“you didn’t know, it’s okay.” he giggles, the bubbly sound lifting your spirit by a little. “plus, you were all cute being whiny about sleep.”

you laugh along with him, lightly smacking his chest. “you’re literally the only one who’d think that.” 

“i better be!” he protests with a gasp, “can’t have any others seeing you all cute and huggable like that. that’s part of my boyfriend rights.”

“what do i get in return then?”

“you, my love, get an unlimited pass to get cuddled by yours truly.”

“i think you benefit from that more than i do, babe.”

“do not!” haechan lets out a gasp, “but really, i can help you fall asleep- if you don’t mind the stream that is…”

“i think i’ve fallen asleep enough times on my own streams to not care, hyuck.” you chuckle, letting him lead you over to his desk.

he pulls a comfy chair from the side, patting the cushion to let you know where to sit. you give him a small smile, grateful he’s taking care of you despite his stream ongoing. 

once you get confortable enough, your boyfriend gently guides your head to his shoulder before mindlessly reaching out to play with your hair while reading the chat messages. you’ve realized he formed a habit of doing so quite early on into your relationship. 

it wasn’t like you minded it either, in fact, it was rather the opposite. to you, it was a soothing gesture he’d do every time the two of you were about to sleep. perhaps, you’ve grown too used to the feeling, to the point you couldn't sleep without it. without him. 

god, you’re so thankful to have him by your side.

user_06: i want what they have :(((

user_07: you guys are the cutest W(`0`)W

you doze off before knowing it, your boyfriend chuckling to himself at how your lips go agape ever so slightly. “chat, isn’t my baby just the cutest?”

user_08: you mean OUR baby?”

haechan reads that comment aloud for the rest of his viewers to hear. “now where are you guys getting that from?? y/n is mine, back away!”

user_09: BRO URE GNA WAKE Y/N UP

user_10: NOT MY STRIMER (￣^￣)ゞ

user_11: Y/N CALLS US HER BABIES TOO DURING STREAMS- WE ALL HAVE RIGHTS

“as if.” haechan scoffs in faux annoyance, opting to hug you a little tighter than he was before (to quote and quote assert his dominance over chat). “you guys are probably jealous of me, huh? i’m the one who has y/n in their arms.”

“and i hope it stays like this forever.” he whispers, a growing smile on his face as he glances down, glad he’s the lucky one who does have you in his arms.

[badalivie]

 body language [l.dh]

pairing: reader x lee donghyuck ft.hyunjin

genre: romance, friends to lovers

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of injuries, a small tiny pinch of violence, jealous haechan and suggestive(ish)

about: You and Donghyuck have been dance partners for the past 6 years. When he gets into an accident that costs him a competition and substitutes himself with another dancer, he realizes he’s not so open at all to having you dance with someone else, especially having their hands in the places he considered his.

“twirl. come to me, and... pose!”

Donghyuck had one of his hands tight around your waist with the other on your back, pressing your chest flush against his own while you leaned backward in his hold. You felt his warm breath on your neck, his hand just above your ass, and his heartbeat against your chest all while your arms were wrapped around his neck. Every time Donghyuck found himself in a close position like this with you, he felt as if time slowed. He studied every breath, movement, and even experimentally moved his hands around to see which spots you seemed to like being touched in. He found that rubbing his thumbs lightly on your waist would relax you and mold your body closer to his, sometimes even earning a whimper from you, and it would make him melt each time.

“good job.” Donghyuck supported your back to help you stand up straight and pulled away.

“You think we can win with this routine?”

“Absolutely. Don’t you have confidence in my choreographing skills?” He frowned and crossed his arms

“I didn’t say I doubted you, you moron.” You flicked his forehead, making him whine and cover his face with his hands.

Donghyuck has been your best friend and dance partner for 6 years. You’ve won countless competitions with him and spent most of your days training with him or just talking to him. How could you not when he’d obsessively — and quite annoyingly— text you every hour when you were apart?  With the intimacy that comes with dancing alongside him for years, he knew you and your body better than anyone else. Your mannerisms, where you liked to be held and where you didn’t, he knew everything about you. Often it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Hey wait wanna grab a bite? I think we deserve it.”

“Fine. You’re paying though!”

“I always do” He grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and walking outside with you. Your favorite restaurant was only 3 blocks away. You and Donghyuck often went there to reward yourselves after a competition or intense training. Eating at that restaurant always involved one of you getting black-out drunk and sleeping over at the other’s house, but today was different. While crossing the street, he noticed a motorcycle speeding in your direction without any indication of stopping. Without a second thought, almost on instinct, he pushed you to the sidewalk and took the hit.

“Hyuck!” You rushed to his side as he lay on the concrete. His arms were a bit swollen but he didn’t appear to have any major injuries that were evident except for his ankle which was very clearly dislocated. The ambulances arrived a couple minutes later and rushed you two to the hospital. You didn’t let go of his hand once throughout the ride. Luckily, the doctors were able to pop Donghyuck’s ankle back into place (but he didn’t take the pain of it well at all). As soon as you both thought the worst was over, they found that he also broke a rib from the impact. The doctor said he would fully heal in about 2 months, which didn’t leave him enough time to rehearse before the competition took place.

“We have to withdraw.” 

“What?! No! You can’t withdraw from the competition!” Donghyuck argued

“I’m not dancing without you!” There were tears in your eyes at this point. His expression softened when he saw the first few tears streak down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He cupped your cheeks and wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “Listen, you worked too hard for this competition. I don’t want you to withdraw because of me. Hear me out, I’ll look for a substitute to take my place. Hm? How’s that sound?”

“That sounds awful. I’ve never danced with anyone else but you and I’m not willing to.” You lowered your head

“Just give it a try okay? If you really don’t want to compete without me, then you withdraw. But you need to give it a chance first. Okay?”

After a couple minutes of careful consideration, you reluctantly agreed “Fine.”

“Don’t look so down. You’ll get wrinkles.”

You chuckled under your breath, earning a smile from Donghyuck. “There she is. There’s that smile.” You talked a few more things with him until a nurse told you that you had to leave. You waved goodbye and said you’d visit him again tomorrow.

By the time you came back for another visit, Donghyuck had already found a substitute. He found him through a friend and heard he was an extremely talented junior dancer. It still took some convincing to get you fully on board but by the end of your second visit, you were ready to meet his substitute.

His name was Hyunjin. He was taller than Donghyuck by a little bit. He was attractive, had long hair, a slim figure, and he was really hardworking. Hyunjin really devoted his time to learning the choreography beforehand with the short amount of time he had. After your first practice together you realized that maybe things weren’t as bad as you thought they would be.

“Hey we match pretty well” Hyunjin commented, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I think you’re great” he smiled.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

You and Hyunjin teased each other back and forth for a while, growing closer with each passing hour. To your surprise, you got along well with him. You became more comfortable spending your time with him practicing every day until your hospital visits to Donghyuck became less frequent. 

When Donghyuck was discharged the first thing he did was go to your practice studio. He accepted the fact that you weren’t visiting as often probably because you were busy practicing. Still, wanted to see how things were going without him. He was obviously rooting for your victory, but a small part of him hoped to see that his absence would be affecting you somehow.

“You okay?” You asked

“Im fine. Just a little tired.” Hyunjin huffed, resting his hands on his waist while facing away from you.

“I told you that you should have slept more.” You walked towards him and placed your hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him. “We can take a break if you-“

Hyunjin spun around and leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder. You felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist as he sighed. “I just need a minute… give me 1 minute…” You were a bit surprised by his actions but didn’t push him away, you only kept your hands on his chest.

“Hyunjin? You can rest on the couch-“

“I’m okay. This is all I need… you’re all I need…”

His voice faded towards the end of his sentence, making you unsure of what he really said when suddenly you heard a cough from the far end of the room. When you turned your head around you saw Donghyuck standing there.

“Hyuckie!” You beamed. Hyunjin raised his head from your shoulder and gazed at the man who interrupted your moment. He gave Donghyuck a blank stare but didn’t let go of his hold on your waist at all. That didn’t go unnoticed by Donghyuck. He felt his eye twitch at the green feeling that was beginning to simmer in his chest.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No you came at the right time” You broke free from Hyunjin’s hold and walked towards Donghyuck, enveloping him in a big hug. “Happy to see you walking again”

“My rib is still in rough shape but I’m good enough to visit.” He smiled, glancing over your shoulder to glare at the other male in the room. “How’s practice?” ‘Horrible. Not so good. Wish you were my partner instead’ were some of the responses He was hoping to receive.

“Great, actually! Hyunjin and I have great chemistry and everything is going smoothly. I think we’ll win next week”

“Oh yeah? Well um… that’s good then…”

“Hey y/n! I need your advice on something” Hyunjin called from the other side of the room.

“I need to get going… see you again soon okay?”

You ran back to Hyunjin and started talking about the dance again. Donghyuck didn’t miss the way Hyunjin smiled at you and the way he leaned closer to your direction whenever you spoke. What irked him most was the way Hyunjin looked at you. Probably because it was the exact same way he looked at you. Who could he blame though? He was the one who pushed you to substitute him with someone else. He started this.

He came around to your practice every day since then. He hated how well you were doing without him. He hated how perfect everything was. The way you were in perfect sync with Hyunjin, the way you seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, the way it seemed like the two of you were just made for each other. He felt so replaceable. He felt like maybe you were better off dancing with Hyunjin instead of him. Like what you had with him wasn’t special at all.

Over the days before the competition he just watched helplessly as Hyunjin did the things he was supposed to do with you. It was supposed to be you and him. And with each passing day, his blood seemed to boil more and more. Still, no matter how jealous, he knew you deserved that medal more than anyone else. So when the competition day came, he didn’t care who you were dancing with. What mattered was that you were on that stage, and you were going to win.

“Y/N!!! WOOOOOOO” Donghyuck cheered, jumping out of his seat when you walked onto stage. Hyunjin held your hand in his, leading you out to the stage with long, confident strides. Your eyes met Donghyuck’s in the crowd, and you smiled at him the way you always did. He felt his heart flutter. Was this what it was like to watch you perform? If it was, maybe he’d play sick to see you perform from the audience more often. But preferably without Hyunjin by your side.

Everything went just perfectly. Down to every beat and every sway of the rhythm. Donghyuck always found you pretty, but today, you were especially beautiful. The way you styled your hair, the way your costume revealed just enough of your skin, the way you smiled whenever you faced the audience, and especially the way you’d occasionally steal glances at him, knowing he was already staring back at you.

Your performance came to an end. The crowd roared, bursting into cheers and applause. So did Donghyuck. He smiled proudly as you held the ending pose. You stood on stage, breathless after giving it your all with your chest pressed against Hyunjin’s. Donghyuck noticed the ending pose was different. When you were with him, your arms were always wrapped securely around his neck, but this time, one of your hands grasped Hyunjin’s arm while the other held onto his shoulder. A wave of pride shot through him. Of course. She’d only do that with me. That’s our thing.

The applause continued as you and Hyunjin held the pose, trying to catch your breaths. “I think we won” you chuckled

“yeah…” He smiled, gazing into your eyes. You smiled at his response, not noticing the way his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes repeatedly. His silence confused you and made you match your gaze with him. Hyunjin had an unreadable expression on his face before he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. Your eyes widened. The crowd’s cheers grew in volume as the lights on the stage went out. Once it registered in your brain that Hyunjin actually kissed you, your immediate response was to turn your head away, using the hand on his shoulder to push him away and create space. What was that? Why did he kiss me? He likes me? A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in your head, but one seemed to scream louder than the rest. Did Donghyuck see?

“What the fuck Hyunjin?!”

“I-I’m sorry.” He muttered “I just- I really like you, y/n… these past 2 months have just been so wonderful for me and I couldn’t hold back my feelings anymore… I just had to let you know.”

“Hyunjin, I don’t feel the same way… I’m sorry… you’re a really great guy its just that I already have someone I like” You fiddled with your fingers, nervously watching his reaction. A smile tugged on the corners of Hyunjin’s lips.

“I figured… Its Donghyuck, isn’t it?”

“Was it that obvious?” You covered your mouth

“To me it was. Still knowing that, I wouldn’t back down without trying.” Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders

“Thanks for being cool about this whole thing” You smiled, linking your arm with his, feeling comfortable again.

“It’s just how things are I guess… sorry for kissing you earlier. It was out of line. I should’ve asked and not made you uncomfortable...”

“Eh, it wasn’t too bad” You nudged his rib and made him laugh, moving past that whole incident completely unaware of the storm brewing outside.

You and Hyunjin accepted your medals hand in hand and gave brief appreciation speeches before walking backstage and deciding to call it a night. You and Hyunjin had packed up and were casually having a conversation in the parking lot when Hyunjin took a harsh punch to the jaw and fell hard on his back.

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

It was Donghyuck.

“Hyuck!” You called out in surprise

“Kissing her like that? You have a lot of fucking nerve.” Donghyuck grabbed Hyunjin’s collar and raised him off the ground “What do you have to say now, pretty boy?”

“I’m sorry” Hyunjin coughed

“Damn right you are.” Haechan seethed before throwing another punch until red spilled from Hyunjin’s mouth.

“hold it right there!” You yelled grabbing one of Donghyuck’s arms and pulling him away from Hyunjin. “Hyuck, stop.” He turned his attention away for a second to cup your cheeks and scan your face. You don’t know what he was looking for, but there was an expression you’d never seen on his face before. “Let’s just go. Okay?” You rubbed your hand up and down his arm to calm him down, and it seemed to work a little.

Donghyuck gave one last glare to the other man before wrapping his hand around your wrist tightly and pulling you to his car. “Hyuck… Hyuckie you’re hurting me…” He didn’t say anything in reply but his grip on you loosened. Donnghyuck opened the door for you and let you in before closing the door rather harshly.

The drive was silent. If you were being honest, you didn’t even really know where he was taking you. “What’s going on with you..?”

“Me? What’s going on with me? What’s up with you kissing that pretty boy on stage?!” Donghyuck retorted

“I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me!”

“What so you like him now?!” He was raising his voice at you for the first time, it was unfamiliar and surprising, it was making you emotional.

“Why are you yelling at me?” You asked with a weak voice. Haechan swerved his car to the side of the road and slammed the brakes.

“Because I like you, idiot!” Donghyuck yelled, removing his seatbelt and turning to face you. “You know how hard it was for me to watch him touch you?! He was all over you y/n! He even kissed you for fucks sake!” He ruffled his hair in frustration. He was unloading too much information at once that you could only stare at him with widened eyes. You were overwhelmed. Donghyuck kept rambling on about his frustrations but all you could think about was his confession. This whole time you liked him, he liked you back.

Everything made sense. All the teasing, the way his hands would trail when he held you, the way he’d keep you close when in public spaces. He was telling you he liked you this whole time through his actions. How did you not notice? You laughed.

“Whats funny? You think this is funny?” Donghyuck stared at you with confusion, but nothing could prepare him for when you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. His eyes widened with shock at first, but then he leaned closer to deepen the kiss. Pulling back for just a second, you whispered lowly “I like you too, dummy”. With one hand, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved to straddle his lap on the driver’s seat without breaking the kiss. Donghyuck reclined his seat in order to give you more space. He had his hands on your waist, and you pushed your lap down on his own, earning a low groan from him.

“You’re an eager one aren’t you” Haechan smirked, bringing his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I want to take my time with you, sweetie. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you like this” He sighed, taking a deep breath of your scent and kissing your cheek, all the way down to your collarbone. “See this?” Haechan pressed his finger against a spot he’d kissed just a few seconds ago, a dark blue mark beginning bloom. “This is mine.” He kissed the bottom of your jaw. “Every curve” your neck. “Every crevice.” your collarbone. “All mine.” Your shoulder.

You buried your face into his neck, resting all your weight against him. “We can’t do this here.” You whispered.

You heard Donghyuck chuckle lowly. “Oh?” He moved his hand on your waist lower to knead your ass. “You say that, but you’re grinding onto my waist right now. I can feel the heat of your cheeks on my neck. The way you’re clutching on my shirt right now… honey, you’re not fooling anyone.”

“Hyuck...” You whimpered into his ear, sending a shiver up his spine. He groaned in response and slipped his hands under the skirt you were wearing. His rough hands kneaded your thighs and pushed you lower onto his waist- well, dick.

“Only I can touch you like this. Only I can get this close. Only I know what you like.” Donghyuck kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear and made you gasp. “See?”

“Hyuck~” you begged.

He smiled, bringing a hand up to gently hold your cheek. “be patient, baby. I’ll do everything I want with you when we get home”

[https-yeonjun]

ghostin (l.dh)

wc. 2559

genre. angst

tags. haechan x fem!reader, the one who got away (kinda), unrequited love, warnings: infidelity (kind of, emotional, very much one sided), mentions of alcohol

a/n. this is based off of ghostin by ariana grande. this is really sad (like even as i was writing this i was like that's a new low even for me) but i really hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing this. this is the first thing i've written for haechan, my muse , my angel, my sunflower but i have so many ideas now hehee. this was also supposed to be like 400 words, oops.

more of my work

one: he leaves you

from haechan 🤍: i just got the keys to my new place from haechan 🤍: it’s so much better than the pictures from haechan 🤍: i really wish you were here

your phone buzzes on your night stand.

picking it up, you can feel your heart breaking into pieces all over again as you read the text messages. i really wish you were here. you try to stifle the tears bubbling up in your eyes, so as to not wake up the man sleeping beside you.

but it is no use. you can feel your boyfriend stirring awake beside you. “are you okay? who was that?”

“just haechan,” you respond, in between sniffs. “he just moved into his new place.”

with an understanding nod, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. you nuzzle closer to him, taking up all his warmth. it isn’t what you want, but it is what you have. he lays beside you, gently stroking your hair. “it’s okay, i got you.” he whispers until you fall asleep.

if only that could solve everything, but at least it brings you comfort in this moment.

two: he loves you

from haechan 🤍: hiiiii from haechan 🤍: im sooo drynk riggt now from haechan 🤍: can i calll you??

you can barely respond when his call comes in.

you’re sitting on the couch of your boyfriend’s friend’s apartment. all night, they’ve been playing drinking games and you’ve occasionally joined in, but you mostly sat with your boyfriend’s arm around you as you nursed your diet coke.

when your phone rings, everyone stops to look at you. “i, uh, i should take this.” you stammer, walking out of the room, but not before shooting your boyfriend an apologetic glance.

“hae, are you okay?” you whisper into the phone.

“that rhymes,” he giggles on the other side of the line.

“i know,” you can’t help but smile, thinking about just how much you wish he was here with you. “are you okay?”

“things are so different here,” he begins, “especially without you.”

you feel your heart skip, but then you look back into the hallway and you see your boyfriend and his friends laughing together and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. “haechan, i don’t know what to say.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have called you.”

“no, it’s not that. i don’t want you to feel like i’m not here for you anymore, just because you’re not here anymore. just tell me what’s up? how’s your life there?”

you sit on the floor in the hallway listening to haechan ramble about his apartment, and how his neighbors are super loud at night, and how the doorman always glares at him when he walks in, and how the old lady that lives above him always bakes him cookies to thank him for bringing in her groceries. he goes on about his job, and his coworkers, and his bosses, and the friends he’s made there. and he does this until he falls asleep.

all eyes are on you when you walk back into the living room after you hang up. you return back to your seat. “i’m tired, i wanna go home.” you tell your boyfriend, who is shifting in his seat beside you.

he bids his friends farewell and the two of you leave.

the car ride home is completely silent, save for the pop song playing on the radio. “what did he want?” your boyfriend finally asks you.

“i don’t know,”

“you were on the phone with him for an hour and a half?”

“i think he just needed someone to talk to.”

you can’t tell if he was jealous or angry at you at this moment but you both leave the car enveloped in a quiet unease that neither of you address ever again.

three: you lose him

from haechan 🤍: i’m going to be in town this week from haechan 🤍: i would really love to see you

you stood in front of the vanity in your bathroom, re-applying your lipgloss for the third time already. the day you would see haechan after eight months was finally here and you just wanted to look perfect.

your boyfriend appears next to you as you put your things away. “how do i look?” you asked him, staring at him intently through the mirror.

“you look beautiful,” he says. the sadness that is always lingering in his eyes and in his voice is still there, but you don’t seem to notice.

“i’m really nervous,” you hold a mirror close to your face, anxiously monitoring how your makeup looks.

“do you want me to drive you there?”

“you don’t have to,”

“i want to,” he tells you before leaving the room. “i’ll be waiting downstairs.”

you sit in the passenger’s seat of your boyfriend’s car, twiddling with the hem of your skirt, excitedly counting down the minutes until you’re in the booth of the diner that you and haechan always would go to before he moved.

you finally arrive and your boyfriend parks at the front. “call me if you need anything.” he leans in to give you a kiss.

pulling away, you open your purse and reapply your lipgloss.

“thank you again for driving me here.”

“it’s not a problem. i love you, you know that right?” he asks you.

“yeah, i do.” you exit the car, closing the door behind you.

you pick your booth by the window and watch your boyfriend’s car drive off.  the soft hum of the conversations around you weave through the air as you patiently wait for him, your fingers tracing the condensation on the side of the glass of water you ordered when you got there. 

finally the door chimes, signaling his entrance. he walks in holding the hand of a girl whose presence immediately sends ripples of disappointment down your spine.

time seems to pause as you observe them approach your table. a myriad of emotions danced across your face, and as he looks into your eyes, you try your best to stop your smile from faltering.

“it’s so good to see you,” he greets, a genuine warmth in his voice. you stand up to hug him and you enter into a collision of past memories and present uncertainties.

“you too, haechan. i’ve missed you,” you reply.

and then he introduces her – the girl whose hand he held, whose presence altered the dynamics of this reunion. “this is my girlfriend.”

that ten letter word that you were dreading. you knew it was true but you were hoping that you could somehow convince hope to make it not true.

you had been so consumed by the fantasy of what could have been – what should have been.

it should have been you. he should have told you that he loved you. he should have asked you to be his girlfriend. he should have told you to drop everything and run away with him. he should have chosen you every step of the way,

but he didn’t.

and maybe if he did, it would have been you sitting beside him in the booth, holding his hand so tightly, like he would disappear in a moment. it would have been you causing his eyes to crinkle in the way that it does when he laughs. it would have been you making him feel so happy and so complete.

but it wasn’t.

you wanted to be happy for him. because he was finally happy again and that was the most important thing to you – his happiness, and his smile, and his joy that just hasn’t been there in a while. but how could you be happy when you’re mourning the greatest loss. you always lived with the thought that there could, possibly, sometime in the future, be a chance that the two of you could make it work. but as he fed his girlfriend a fry from off his plate, you realized that was never going to happen.

“do you want us to take you home?” haechan asked after he had paid the bill.

you could think of about five hundred and fifteen things you would rather do than be in the car for even ten minutes with them. “no, my boyfriend isn’t too far from here.”

you stand outside the diner as your boyfriend’s reliable gray car pulls up to the front.

“how was it?” he asks you when you sit down.

“i don’t really want to talk about it,” you say quietly.

you spend the rest of that weekend wrapped up in your comforter, only coming out of bed to eat when your boyfriend begged you to.

on monday morning, he comes into the room. “do you still want to go to my sister’s engagement party? it’s fine if you’re not up for it. i’ll just let her know.”

“no, i think i’ll be fine.” you weakly answer, “i want to go.”

that evening you manage to get yourself dressed and dolled up even though you feel completely lethargic. when you arrived at the party, you stood at your boyfriend’s side as he greeted his sister and her fiancée. the four of you stood for a while, chatting. at least the three of them were. you, on the other hand, were trying to find the easiest way to slip away to the open bar.

eventually you found your out – your boyfriend was called to talk by some family friends and you could finally escape to the bar. “can i get a martini, please?” you ask the bartender.

you sit at the bar, scrolling through your texts with haechan again. he had texted you a few times since you saw each other at the diner, but you just didn’t have it in you to respond to him. locking your phone, you look around the party, spotting your boyfriend talking to some of his old friends. he looked so happy and you couldn’t help but feel sorrier and guiltier for the way you’ve been feeling the past few days. but that didn’t stop you from flagging the bartender again to order another martini.

the bartender had replaced your drink twice already when they called you for dinner. you stand up from the barstool, your movements betraying the effects of intoxication to the bartender. “i think we need to cut you off now,” they joke with you.

you laugh it off, but still appear unsteady. you make your way over to your table, a slight sway in your posture. you kept telling yourself to keep walking straight, but as you weaved through the tight dining space, your steps were marked by a wobbly and lurching quality.

you finally make it to the table, not so elegantly sliding into your assigned seat.

“where were you?” your boyfriend leans in to ask you.

“at the bar,” you whisper yell in response.

“we can tell,” his sister jokes across the table from you. you give her a tight lipped smile.

the waiter places the dishes on the table. everyone digs into the meals in front of them, but your appetite is absent. instead of savoring it, you absentmindedly toy with the food on your plate. your boyfriend, concerned, softly encourages you to eat but you brush off his suggestion, insisting that you’re not hungry.

“you haven’t eaten all day,” he persists and for some reason, that just sparks frustration within you. you abruptly excuse yourself from the table, stumbling as you hastily exit the dining hall. you hear your boyfriend hurriedly apologize to the rest of the table before following you outside.

“what’s going on?” he calls out after you. 

“nothing, i just don’t want to be in there.”

“you told me that you wanted to be here.”

“well, i don’t anymore.”

“can you please talk to me?” he pleads, genuine concern in his voice.

“i can hear everyone talking about me,” you confess, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

confused, he asks, “what?”

“i know your friends hate me. your sister hates me too.”

“what? no one hates you.” he insists, trying to reassure you. “they love you; they just don’t know you like i do.”

with a straight face, you dismiss his words. “you don’t have to lie to me. no one loves me.”

his eyes widen in disbelief. “i love you.”

“well, haechan doesn’t,” you declare softly.

“what?”

“haechan doesn’t love me.” his name heavy on your lips, like it was a bad word that you weren’t allowed to say.

a moment of silence hangs in the air as he processes your revelation. he scoffs, running his hands through his hair in disbelief. “what is this about?” he sits down beside you.

“he has a girlfriend,” a heavy revelation hangs in the air. the dim lighting of the quiet street casts a shadow on both of you.

“oh,” he pulls you into him, his strong arms enveloping you. the scent of his cologne surrounds you as you rest your head against him, closing your eyes to shield you from your reality. unbeknownst to you, he struggles to keep his bittersweet smile at bay. he wants to comfort you and be there for you but he can’t help but love knowing that now he doesn’t have to share you with someone that you never belonged to.

the silence stretches, broken only by the muffled sounds of distant traffic. his soft hands caress your arms in an attempt to soothe the storm of emotions raging within you. your tears stream down your face onto his suit jacket as you find solace in the warmth of his embrace.

after a while, you sit up straight. “i’m sorry,” you say, your voice barely audible.

“it’s fine,” he reassures you. “i can get it dry cleaned.”

you shake your head. “no, not the suit.” he cocks his head in confusion. “i mean for everything.”

“y/n,” he begins, but you cut him off.

“i’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“no you’re not,”

“you’re so good to me and i’m terrible to you. that’s why your friends hate me. that’s why your sister hates me. i’m so selfish. i’m so horrible. i–”

“you’re not selfish or horrible.”

“i am.”

“you’re not.” he lifts a hand to gently wipe away a lingering tear on your cheek.

“i spent a weekend crying about some guy who has a girlfriend, while you were at the door waiting for me to come out,”

his sighs, taking in the weight of your words but refusing to let you dwell in self blame. “you guys have a history that i guess i don’t understand.”

“i heard your sister telling you to break up with me.”

he looks down the quiet street, a furrow forming on his brow as he recalls that conversation. “i-”

you look at him, your eyes searching for answers“i know you defended me, but sometimes i wonder why you don’t just break up with me.”

“because, i love you.” the words echo in the quietness.

“i hurt you. every day of our relationship, i have hurt you. you never say anything, but i know it hurts watching me cry over him.”

he meets your gaze, sincerity in his eyes as he navigates the intricate web of emotions between the two of you. “i still love you.”

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[lebrookestore]

sixteen | l.dh [part ii]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here 

Notes from brooke: here it is!! the second and final part of this fic that has taken me a whole year to write and i'm as proud of it as I am nervous to put out the rest of it here for all of you. as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

➳ read part i here!!

vii] now.

The aroma of coffee beans being ground wafted through the air, somehow managing to brighten your foul mood. You had never been much of a morning person and could barely start your day without some form of caffeine in your system. On most days, you made your coffee at home before setting out to work, but today you wanted to treat yourself a little bit, and what better way than to put your money towards something practical? 

(This was a hundred percent your attempt at trying to convince yourself the overpriced eight dollar coffee you had just ordered was worth it.)

“Iced Latte for Y/n?”

You got up from the stool you had occupied, making your way over to the counter and barista who had called for you. In another life, you would be one of those cool working ladies who managed to down americanos without flinching, but in this one you were quite content with the milky sweet goodness of a latte. You handed over the money you owed and lifted the straw to your lips, sighing in happiness as soon as the drink hit your tastebuds. 

“Hey, I had placed my order…” A man's voice startled you, but it wasn’t the abruptness that caught you off guard- that was pretty typical for a busy Tuesday morning in New York- but rather the familiarity of it as it trailed off. You spun on your heel quickly, coming face to face with a rather dumbfounded looking Donghyuck. 

You stared at him, lips parting in surprise at his presence there. The barista behind cleared her throat expectantly, waiting for Donghyuck to reiterate his drink order.

He snapped out of the initial shock of seeing you at that. “Right, sorry. I had asked for a caramel frappe about ten minutes ago?” Of course he still had the same order from when you were teenagers, one that was much sweeter than yours. 

“Oh yes, it's ready. Sorry for the delay sir!” Her cheery voice rang out as she held out the drink.

You were still rooted to the spot in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, cocking his head to the side to silently motion towards the counter, signalling that you were currently in his way. “Uh.”

“Oh.” You stepped out of the line, feeling embarrassment quickly creep up upon you for your slowness right then. He grabbed his drink, and moved out of the way for the next person as well, stopping before you for a second, eyes lingering on your face as if trying to read your expression, gauging whether he should say something or not.

Terribly self conscious, you took another sip of the latte you held, though it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. He sighed softly, seemingly deciding that doing nothing was for the best, and walked away.

What were the odds of you running into him like this? You had banked on only having to see him when Yeonmi had him over, but now you realised that was incredibly naive of you, since run ins were bound to happen from time to time. It seemed that your naivety from your youth hadn’t quite run out yet.

Often, you thought about how you had been so quick to shut down his pleas to talk about things with you that one movie night, how defensive you had been from the get go. He had done his best to be cautious while approaching the topic, as if he had seen the mental caution tape you had wrapped around your heart when it came to him, but you had been so afraid.

Afraid that whatever explanation he provided you with wouldn’t be sufficient to heal the would he had inflicted. Afraid that if you even began to let him in, you’d forgive him immediately and feel pathetic about dismissing the part of you that was so angry at being left behind without so much as a goodbye. 

But as you watched him walk away and to the door of the cafe, you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t let him speak. 

Wasn’t closure something everyone wanted and deserved? You more than anyone knew this and maybe that's what you would have gotten if you hadn’t been so stubborn that night.

Your legs moved on their own, carrying you towards his departing figure. “Wait!”

He stilled, turning around slowly to make sure it was him you were talking to, which was a surprise in itself to him. You bit down on your lower lip, scrambling to find the words you needed to communicate with him. 

“Do you have a few minutes?”

His gaze softened the way it used to when it came to you and he nodded. “I can make time.”

You glanced down at your watch, grateful for actually having one sitting on your wrist. In truth, you had only bought it after noting how almost everyone in your workplace wore one. It didn’t seem professional to constantly be checking your phone for the time, but you did it anyway, leaving the watch to be just another accessory you donned. 

Right now, its utility made itself known. 8:00 am. “I have to be in office in an hour,” you informed him. “So I can’t stay long but….we can talk?” You mentally winced at how you ended what you had hoped to be a confident statement as a question. 

“I’d like that.”

The two of you made your way to a small table in the back, sitting opposite each other. You were grateful for the window on your left, which served as a good distraction from the man in front of you. Cars whizzed by on the busy NYC streets, painting the scene in a blur of reds and yellows against the grey concrete background. 

He tapped his fingers against the table periodically, the rhythm finally giving you the courage you needed to begin.

“You were right,” you said finally, desperately searching for the words to appropriately approach the topic at hand. “We do need to talk. I should have listened.”

“It’s okay, I should have approached it differently considering,” he paused, mulling over what he was about to say, not wanting to be insensitive but also not wanting to underplay the severity of what you felt. “Well, everything.” 

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, this was going nowhere and was getting increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing minute. You should have just let him leave instead of heeding to your intrusive thoughts and going after him, you should have watched him walk away and bit down your tongue in regret later on in the privacy of your room. 

It was as if he had sensed your trepidation and decided to put you out of your misery. “How are you?”

Small talk. Right. You could do that. 

“Good, good,” you had no idea why you said it twice. “Mostly just busy with work and you know, adulting. You?” 

“Pretty much the same, work.” He smiled softly at you, and you wondered how he somehow still made that feel like a reward for you, how something as simple as that could have a deceitful warmth bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “I have to get to the studio in a bit.”

“Studio?”

“I’m a music producer,” he clarified, and the conversation was almost too reminiscent of his date with Yeonmi, except a little more meaningful this time. A certain sense of shyness washed over him at telling you what he did for work, because although he was extremely proud of his job, your opinion of it mattered to him more than anyone else's ever could. 

“That's amazing! Do you like, get to meet famous people?” Your reaction was genuine, just as you had always been with him. You had once been the only person he thought believed in him. He could see the fraction of joy that sparked in your expression, truly happy on hearing this news.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I do. There are a couple of them I regularly work with.” It wasn’t in his nature to brag, but the starstruck look that appeared in your eyes made it worth it for once. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, fiddling with the straw in your drink. “I just work in HR.” Your life felt awfully boring in comparison to him, but then again, that was a feeling you had made your peace with a long time ago. He had always been the more interesting, more magnetic person from the two of you- or perhaps from everyone in general. A stranger could take a look at him and know that he was made to walk a path different and more vibrant than most. 

An awkward silence settled after that, only succeeding in increasing your anxiety levels. Pleasantries were over, so where the hell were you supposed to go from there?

“I didn’t know Yeonmi was your roommate,” he said quietly, not looking at you. “I’m sorry for the position I’ve put you in, I promise you it wasn’t intentional.”

“I never thought it was,” you assured him. “I didn’t think it was you she was talking about either. This is just some sort of freak coincidence, I guess.” You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to not overthink anything having to do with the situation. There were so many questions left unanswered that you had no qualms with getting right to the point now that you could. “I don’t even care actually, I just want to know one thing.” 

The flippancy in your voice almost made him wince. “Anything.”

“Why did you do it?” 

And suddenly, Donghyuck felt as if he was back as his teenage self, staring at you through his younger self's perspective. He had been so unforgivingly impulsive at that age, and selfishly so, unable to put himself in anyone else's shoes. Of course, he had felt guilty for what he had done, to the point where he felt sick in the days that followed, but he had done it to protect himself from having to deal with your reaction to the news. News that had, back then, ruptured the little world of bliss he had cultivated with you by his side. 

How could he have explained anything back then anyway? He had always hidden that part of his life from you, the constant instability and fleeting nature that it possessed. Putting it together made it sound like a bad excuse, and you definitely did not deserve that.

 But he wasn’t an avoidant teenager anymore, and neither were you. What you deserved was the whole truth and nothing but that, and so he steeled himself, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you. 8:15 am. He didn’t really have much time, but he was going to do his best.

“I spent most of my childhood moving around from place to place. I think the longest I stayed in a town was two years at most, and for the longest time, I resented my mother for that.”

This was something you had waited for all your life, or at least, that was how you felt, and now you were finally going to get the explanation you had spent years trying to put together for a fickle sense of closure. Here you were, finally getting what you had spent birthday wishes and pennies down fountains for since you were sixteen, hoping and praying that it would happen for your sake. Here you were, getting it from your first love.

It was three in the morning and though the caffeine from your coffee had long since worn off, you found yourself lying in your bed wide awake. It had been a few hours of tossing and turning underneath your sheets, trying to find a position comfortable enough to succumb to sleep but evidently, seeing that you were now staring at your ceiling in frustration, had been wholly unsuccessful.

You were going to need an extra large cup of coffee to curb your inevitable grumpiness the next morning. A sigh left your lips as you threw your covers off, sitting up in your bed and taking in your room in the darkness, hoping you would feel the heaviness set in on your eyelids. When that didn’t happen, you swung your legs over the side and landed on the wooden floors, slipping your feet into your house slippers and opening your door as quietly as possible.

A glass of water should put everything right and curb your restlessness. Your optimism was admirable, if not downright stupid. The cause of your current state was fairly obvious.

So there you were, now holding an empty glass. You had finished your water, and didn’t feel any better, not wanting to go back to bed in the slightest. 

Donghyuck rippled through your mind, and you shut your eyes, trying to block him out. The sight of those sad eyes of his as he explained what really happened all those years ago had been imprinted in your mind, and it had left you with nothing but contempt.

You despised the childish reasoning that consumed the entire explanation, the way it felt like everything that had happened and what you felt had been so trivial and completely avoidable if he had just spoken to you. Eight years, that was how long you had waited just for it to feel as if he had just rubbed salt in your wounds, and you hated every second of it.

What you hated most though, was the way you completely understood why he did it.

The more you thought about what he told you, you couldn’t help but empathise with him. Sure, you wouldn’t have done what he did if you were in his position, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had never been in his position, and it was clear that his younger years had been scattered all over the place.

How could he have known any better when he too was learning how to navigate his emotions at that age? He was a child and you couldn’t hold anything against a child now that you were an adult.

I’m sorry.

Suddenly, why those had been the last thing he ever said to you made sense. He knew what he was doing and did it anyway. The burn that you felt every time you thought about it hadn’t subsided.

Your younger self was angry at how things had turned out, pissed at being left in the dark even if you understood why. You wanted so badly to hate him for what he had done to you, but no matter how hard you tried to push yourself to do so, you just couldn’t. Instead, another emotion lied in the place you tried so hard to fill with hate, and it scared you even more.

He had hurt you to such a colossal extent, and yet that little flame inside of you refused to be put out, or even have the mercy to dim itself for your sake. It flickered back to life the moment you set eyes on him again and you knew this to be true by the effect he still had on you.

You never stopped loving Donghyuck. You only started hurting, and let the pessimistic degree of that feeling drown out everything else.

“I should have handled it better,” his frustration with himself was clear by the way he exhaled agitatedly. “I know I was a dick to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. If I could go back and do it all again, I’d do it very differently, but I can’t.” He sounded pained, his sorrow cutting deep into your freshly reopened wounds and making you realise that he had hurt himself in the process of doing what he did. 

While you had been painstakingly stitching yourself back together after him, he had been doing the same, reaping what he had sown in your garden. He was as old as you had been, and emotions are often magnified in the melodrama of youth.

It didn’t feel like that magnification had dulled out though, the regret potent in his voice, matching your emotional state. 

“But if there's anything I can do now….I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

You were drowning, sinking rapidly below the surface as the waves thrashed around you, unrelenting and ruthless. You gripped the cup in your hands, a warm pressure building behind your eyes, making you feel even more miserable than you already were. The realisation of your present feelings overwhelmed you, and you crumbled against the counter, letting yourself lean against the cupboards as you settled on the floor.

He’d do anything for you. He said it himself.

So then…would he…?

A choked sound escaped your throat- something that sounded like a cross between a bitter laugh and a sob. You were deplorable, truly, for even letting the thought cross your mind, but god.

Would he end things with Yeonmi for your sake?

The topic of your roommate hadn’t been brought up during your chat, the two of you skirting around the topic for all you were worth. It felt like taboo, and although it was probably something worth mentioning, you were glad you hadn’t needed to deal with it just yet. You held so much love for Yeonmi, but right then she seemed like more of an obstacle than anything else. 

But if she knew the truth and Donghyuck and you, wouldn’t she think the same? She had done nothing wrong, so you were the problem here. You were the obstacle you had never signed up to be.

The question sat heavy upon your tongue, and you so desperately wanted to ask it.

You couldn’t do that to your friend, you would never. She hadn’t been this happy with someone since her sorry excuse of an ex broke her spirit, and you couldn’t bear to be the one to take that away from her. You couldn’t, even if it meant that it broke you, because goddamnit you were still irrevocably in love with Lee Donghyuck.

And all you wanted to do was hate him. 

viii] then.

Donghyuck’s room was much planer than yours, with just a clock hanging on one of its walls. A keyboard in one corner of the room and a guitar leaning against the side of his closet, you supposed that he hadn’t had much time to put too much thought into decorating just yet.

“You can put up posters of all those bands you keep talking about,” you suggested, running your fingers through his hair. You were sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with him lying in between your legs, looking up at you fondly 

Your boyfriend frowned lightly, “Too much effort.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re just lazy. I can help you, you know. We could go print the posters after school.” Your enthusiasm was endearing, but he didn’t really see a point. Nevertheless, he didn’t have the heart to shoot your ideas down and nodded noncommittally, enjoying the feeling of you absent-mindedly massaging his scalp.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he said lazily. A silence settled, and although it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, he began humming a melody. 

You had heard him sing several times now, usually while he accompanied himself on guitar and his voice was just like the rest of him- captivating. It was gentle but still strong, his tone conveying the message and feel of any song he picked perfectly. He had once confessed that he would love to work in the music industry one day, no matter what the role was, but then brushed off the wish, saying that it was a shot in the dark. 

To counter this, you told him that if anyone could make it, it would be him. By no means did your words shake off his doubts or uncertainty, but you could tell that the faith you had in him helped him feel better. 

“What song is that?” You tilted your head, looking down at him. He shrugged. 

“It isn’t one, just a tune that came to me,” it was such a simple thing, and it still somehow earned him an impressed look from you, making him laugh. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.”

“You’re the dorkiest.”

“Hey! Dork-? Is this the shit I get for being nice to you?” You pouted, the offence heavily lacing your voice making him laugh, and to soothe your ruffled feathers, he dropped a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“A cute dork.” 

His mother was out, leaving the house empty save for the two of you. The privacy was nice, much better than your house for sure, where your mother was always hovering for some reason, even though you hadn’t told your parents about your new relationship just yet. She was overprotective, and while you were definitely going to tell them, you didn’t particularly want to deal with any outbursts just yet, wanting to savour the beginning of it all and keep that joy just for yourself.

As far as you knew, Donghyuck didn’t have a father, but he had never gotten into the details. He made sure to tell you that it wasn’t because it was hard to talk about, but because there wasn’t much to say about the man anyway, since he had never known him or even met him. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to fake annoyance to the best of your abilities, but you weren’t and never had been immune to the butterflies he managed to set free in your stomach with that kiss, a smile slowly forming on your face. Your hands moved to his face, cupping it gently as you leaned closer.

“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere.”

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, “What will then?”

“A proper kiss maybe,” you mused, matching his playfulness. He immediately took you up on your proposal, smiling into the kiss. 

You were glad his mom wasn’t around.

Neither of you had ever kissed anyone before, but somehow he was still very good at it, a single touch of his igniting a pleasant buzz on the surface of your skin. Everything you knew about kissing came from books and movies, but you could only hope you had the same effect he had on you.

If you only knew. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had started dating, and he had memorised everything he could about you he possibly could- the shape of your mouth and the slope of your nose, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed and the sound of it, he knew it all like the back of his hand. It wasn’t hard to be with you, it came to him like second nature, and part of him was convinced that everytime his mother had moved them from place to place, it was to bring him here to this moment. 

To be lying in your embrace, tangled in your arms and the gentle, loving kisses you pressed to his mouth and forehead- this was the definition of bliss, and everything about it was so utterly ignorant. 

“You taste like sour patch candies,” you muttered softly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. You had quickly grown addicted to Donghyuck, deciding right then and there that you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the entire world. 

“Mhm, I was eating them before you came over.” 

You chuckled. “You, sir, have a problem.”

“Drama queen, you’re exaggerating a little too much. I only had a few.” 

“You had an entire packet, didn’t you? No wonder it's so noticeable.” The light wash of crimson that appeared on his cheeks at being caught gave him away.

“It can’t possibly be that noticeable.”

“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t consume copious amounts of that candy.”

He simply kissed you again in retaliation, a consequence you could definitely live with and had no complaints about whatsoever. “Shut up, you know you secretly like it.”

You never had the chance to argue with that one, once again silenced by his lips against yours. He was undoubtedly right about that accusation, for you liked it almost too much. You liked everything about him too much, and for the first time you understood the typical giddiness that was portrayed in every teen movie you watched growing up.

Every school day was something to look forward to now, making it possible to spend almost every day with him. You sat on desks next to each other, sometimes listening to music together and trying not to get caught talking to each other. The teachers had definitely picked up on the fact that there was something between the two of you, considering the amount of disproving looks you had gotten sent your way for laughing a little too loud at the jokes he would crack under his breath. 

Holidays were spent with you trying to finish all your homework as quickly as possible so you could hang out with him or Sakura and Chenle, making it so that every single day was bright and exciting from the moment you awoke. 

“You have no proof of that,” you pointed out, sitting up straighter to be able to kiss him better, savouring the way his arm immediately slid around your waistline. He smirked, his hand slipped just under your t-shirt but staying at your waist, fingers tracing abstract shapes upon the expanse of your skin.

“You’re still kissing me, aren’t you?”

The local playground was pretty deserted after eight on Sunday evenings, mothers having taken all their babies and toddlers back home for their nightly routine. Other highschool juniors or seniors didn’t really hang out there, opting to spend their time at the small skate park on the other end of town, which made it a perfect hangout spot for you and your friends.

Chenle slipped a cigarette pack out of the pocket of his designer hoodie, along with a bright red lighter. “Does anyone want one?”

Your reaction mirrored Sakura’s, who currently wore a frown. “Since when are you a smoker?”

“Johnny hyung taught me yesterday when he invited me to hang out with the seniors,” he filled you in, and you groaned, leaning into Donghyuck’s touch. He had an arm around your shoulders as the two of you occupied the bench swing, while Chenle and Sakura were sitting on the ends of the metal slides.

“Please don’t follow in his footsteps.” 

He lit one of the cigarettes, rolling his eyes. “Can you chill?”

“You do not have to smoke Chenle, you’re sixteen, not a wildly miserable forty year old  divorcee. You’re doing it just because you think it's cool and because Johnny does it.” Sakura shared your view of the senior, and as hospitable and lovely as he was, you didn’t particularly support his life choices.

“That is not true,” Chenle contested, and your other friend huffed. “Johnny is a great friend.”

You shook your head in disapproval. “He’s a bad influence.”

“He’s not! He’s really cool Y/n, I swear,” He waved his cigarette around, gesturing towards your boyfriend. “Right, Donghyuck?”

His admiration for the senior boy had only grown since the day of the party. To put it plainly, he thought the absolute world of the older boy, making an effort to spark a friendship. To say that he was overjoyed when Johnny started inviting him places was an understatement, if the excited call you got from him said anything. 

Donghyuck looked all too amused and nodded. “He is pretty cool.”

He got two scathing looks as a result, one from Sakura and an unimpressed stare from you, causing him to clear his throat, quickly following up. “But! That doesn’t mean you should follow his every move. You definitely shouldn’t smoke, smoking is bad.”

Now that he was back in your good graces, you kissed his cheek and looked at Chenle pointedly. “Please don’t end up like him.”

“I would love to end up like him.”

Jesus Christ. There was no saving him.

“With all the shit he pulls, he’s going to end up dead by twenty-five. Do you want to die?” He put the pack and lighter back in his pockets, brushing off Sakura’s grim statement. 

“One cigarette won’t kill me.” 

“Yes, but if you make smoking a habit and get addicted, it will eventually. Lung cancer is a thing, you know.” Your reminder was not taken kindly, and he groaned, taking a puff before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his heel, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to smoke it in peace with you guys around anyway. 

“You are all so boring.” He whined, glaring at Donghyuck. “And you’re a hypocrite. Didn’t Johnny teach you how to smoke too?”

Having stayed a silent observer for most of this conversation, Donghyuck seemed to momentarily scramble for his words. “Only at the party, I haven’t smoked anything since then and I don’t intend to do it casually. It was a one time thing, and it was almost two months ago.”

“Remind me to only ever smoke at Yuta hyung’s place, because you guys are too annoying.”

Sakura perked up where she was sitting, blinking rapidly. “Nakamoto Yuta?”

He nodded, smiling almost evilly at her. “Yeah, I hang out with your crush more than you do. Maybe if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass, he’d invite you too.”

“Ugh, I hope you do die.” 

She had gained quite the infatuation with Yuta, having flirted with him at the party and hung out with him for quite a bit of the night. All her confidence to do so had come from the alcohol though, because she ran in the opposite direction of him at school, too nervous to go up to him and strike conversation so casually. 

You snuggled closer to Donghyuck, the evening air taking a turn for chilly. You loved having him around and was overjoyed at how well he fit into your little group, getting along with them as if they were his best friends as well. Being with him was effortless, just how it should be. 

“You should at least try talking to him,” you suggested, “If you don’t try, how do you know he’s just going to reject you? Didn’t he spend almost the entire party with you?”

“Easy for you to say,” she scowled, but you knew she meant no ill will and was simply joking. “You got the guy from like, the moment you met him.” Her words had you bite back a bashful smile. 

“That's true,” Donghyuck quipped almost proudly, rubbing your shoulder and dropping a kiss to your temple. He noticed the way you had tucked your hands under your legs. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you, taking it off and draping it over your shoulders, and resuming his previous position of having his arm around them. Sakura and Chenle simultaneously pretended to gag.

“The two of you are disgustingly adorable.” She complained, and Chenle agreed.

“Yeah, you make me feel so single I want to smoke.” 

The sound of Sakura hitting his arm at that comment resounded through the empty park, making you laugh. You hadn’t realised how bland your life had been before this year because now it was like the colours were brighter and much more vibrant than before, so much more interesting. This was how highschool was supposed to be, you thought to yourself as you slid your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, simple and rosy tinted, without a single worry in the world. 

ix] now.

This was the tenth time Donghyuck was listening to the track.

He paused it and dragged it back to the start, playing the song once again. Something about it was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet, subjecting himself to analyse it over and over as a result. 

He shut his eyes, trying to absorb the song and search for what was not clicking for him, letting himself be consumed by the music. The melody washed over him, the powerful vocals and enticing beat soaking into his system. In his expert opinion, it was one step away from being a hit on the charts. He just had to figure out what step he had to take in order to achieve that.

Usually, he would stay and work on it until he managed to come to a solution, but for some reason all he wanted to do was go home today. He wasn’t focused on his work, as much as he loved music and what he did, for some reason today he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe the thing that was off with the song was his demeanour at that moment. For all he knew, when he felt better and more motivated to work on it, it might sound ready to put out into the world without him having to change a single thing.

Donghyuck needed to clear his head. He pushed himself away from his desk and stretched his legs, walking to one of the windows of the studio and peering outside. 

He loved the studio, he practically lived there half of the time, sleeping on the sofa when he stayed too late or was too tired to drive home amidst a project. Every instrument inside was precious to him, every piece of equipment important. It was filled with happy memories for him, with artists waltzing in and out of his space and entrusting him with their life’s work. Their vision collided with his artistic view, and even though his name wasn’t bedazzled in the lights and he wasn’t directly in the limelight, he had somewhat managed to make a name for himself in the industry he had always loved.

The studio was more his home than his apartment, so then why did he so want to go back to the latter at the moment?

Looking out into the streets of New York, it hit him.

It wasn’t his apartment he was yearning for, per se, but more so the idea of home. It was something he had struggled with coming to terms with for the longest time, having never stayed anywhere long enough to consider home throughout his formative years. As a default, home had never taken the form of a place or a house on a particularly named street, but instead had always been a person. 

During his childhood, it had been his mother, for she was the only truly constant thing in his life back then. As his teenage years rolled around, even she started to feel alien to him. He began perceiving her as less of a home and more of the reason he didn’t have one. 

And then there was another person who became his home, and she came in the form of you. You were his age and much more relatable, it was much easier to place all his hope and trust in you, especially when just being around you made him forget about all his problems. When he was with you, his life seemed to lose that intense sense of instability that always kept him on edge. 

You somehow stabilised him, but he lost that stability in less than a year. In an attempt to reconcile with his guilt, he began punishing himself by changing his number and cutting you off completely, telling himself that it would help you as well. Once again, he was without a home, and his relationship with his mother was further strained. 

At eighteen, he moved out to New York. 

New York was his home now, the place he had stayed for the longest time. It was a place finally, somewhere he could point out with his finger and proudly say he lived in. He finished up his education, going to college and teaching himself music production on the side. He worked two part time jobs and enrolled himself in production classes. 

It was hard being all alone in a city as big as New York, in an unfamiliar and cold place. The loneliness hit him hard, and that led him to calling his mother. After a year in the city, working and studying hard, he finally understood why she had done what she did while he was growing up and appreciated her for it.

He had his big break at twenty-two while working under a small record label. The song he had worked on as a producer went number one on the billboard charts, rocketing the singer from an unknown person to a household name and right under theirs, was his.

He was being praised by critics for his experimental style and the little things in the production that made the song what it was. Suddenly, he was in demand and made real, good money- amounts that he had never seen in his life. He sent half of it to his mother and could now visit her as many times in the year as he so pleased. 

Every sacrifice was worth it. It had gotten to where he was standing and made him who he was. 

But you being in his home now?

That made him question it. You displaced him.

New York had only started to properly feel like home when he had made it big, the big scary city not seeming so scary anymore. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere after years of lacking that. 

The only time he had ever belonged to someone was when he had been with you. 

When he left your town, he had left a piece of his heart behind with you, just as he had taken a piece of yours with him. He had never gotten it back, searching for it- something, someone perhaps- in the faces of strangers. 

He had put all his faith in finding that in Yeonmi, a woman who reminded him of you, only to find out that she was simply influenced. He was stuck, frozen in place by a choice that seemed impossible to make. Whatever course of action he took, any option he picked, it always seemed to make him the bad guy. He couldn’t just drop her for you because things were too complicated for that, and it would in turn make you the bad guy as well, but he couldn’t keep on feeling this way while being with someone else.

Home. Donghyuck knew right then that he wasn’t yearning for his apartment, or the city itself. He was yearning for you.

Donghyuck wanted you there in his studio, in his apartment- just with him maybe would be enough. Not just wandering and brushing shoulders in the vast city that you called home as well, but by his side constantly, to once again be the home that grounded him.

The realisation washed over him, but it didn’t come as a total surprise. Part of him had always known that you were it for him, especially when he saw you for the first time again that night he dropped a drunk Yeonmi home to you. The reason he couldn’t focus was you, how badly he wanted to run back to you and ignore all the complications that came with it, right back into the arms that were his true home. 

Occasionally, you would think about Sakura and Chenle. 

You had long since lost contact with your highschool best friends, inevitably drifting apart from them with the course of time. Once university began, even managing to text each other turned into a chore, and the only times you saw each other or hung out was during the summer when you went back home. Once you moved to New York and started going home less, those few moments turned into nothing at all.

Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten about them. They had been your constants for so long, people you trusted with all your heart and soul, always running out of your house to meet them. You fondly recalled all the late night calls and sneaking out and sleepovers, complaining about examinations and school together, and spending your summers with iced teas and hanging out at the local diner. From drinking sprite to sneaking alcohol, a lot of your firsts have happened with them. 

They held you together when Donghyuck left. They picked up the shattered pieces, sticking them back together the best they could with the resources they had. They were the ones that got you to smile again and eventually forget about him long enough to forget that you were trying to. 

Even though you haven’t spoken to them in years, you still thought about them. You would never stop being grateful. 

You also wondered how they would react if they knew what your life had come to. 

The coffee you had ordered this time was hot, and you cupped the mug, letting the warmth of the drink seep through the ceramic and to your fingers. You were in what had become your regular booth in the cafe, and across from you sat none other than Donghyuck himself. 

Ever since that day, an unspoken sort of agreement to at least be friends had passed between the two of you- a truce of sorts. It was only logical, considering he was technically with Yeonmi, and it meant that you would have to learn how to put everything aside for that. Oddly enough though, you never talked about your roommate, and he didn’t make an effort to bring her up either. 

Sakura would have glared at you in disbelief. Chenle would be laughing his ass off in some corner.

Meeting at the cafe had turned into a ritual of sorts. You would meet him there every Tuesday before work and both of you would chat and have your drinks before parting ways. Admittedly, you had started looking forward to these little rendezvous with him, they somehow managed to make your entire week. 

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised at this. Donghyuck had always had that effect on you and clearly nothing had changed. He still made you laugh more than anyone else and left you with that warm, fuzzy feeling that made you think that anything was possible. 

Yeonmi did not know about these meetings. 

You had never mentioned them to her even once, and you were willing to bet that Donghyuck hadn’t either. He seemed to avoid talking about her entirely, and it seemed that he hadn’t been talking to her very much either, since your roommate had worriedly mentioned his lack of communication this past few weeks.

“He still talks to me,” she explained, eyes knit together in worry. “But not as much, you know? I can’t help but wonder if something is wrong.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.” You assured her when you were not, in fact, sure. You didn’t have the courage to ask about it anyway, and selfishly enough you didn’t particularly want to spend any of the little time you got with him talking about her.

You abhorred the way you had subconsciously turned against your friend, but it was fine because you had it under control. You could never do anything to hurt her, this was completely innocent. The two of you were just talking.

“You’ve met Lee Jieun?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide in awe. He held back a laugh at the starstruck look on your face, nodding as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. 

“Yeah, she’s very sweet and extremely talented. Worked on a few tracks on her last album.”

“I bought that album,” you said, putting your mug down and clasping your hands together. “I’ve been saving up for tickets to her concert.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “I can get you some if you’d like.”

Mouth falling open, you stared at him in shock, no words leaving your lips for ten seconds straight. “If I’d like?? I would love that, my god. I’ve been a fan for four years now and she’s always my top artist on spotify every year during spotify wrapped. My most listened to song is also always hers and she’s just so-”

You faltered when you glanced at him and noticed the doting expression he wore while looking at you- the sides of his lips were just slightly upturned, eyes following your movements keenly and hanging onto every word. It had heat rise up to your face and made you self-conscious because goddamnit, that was the exact way he would look at you when you were together. 

Fuck.

Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed hard, averting your eyes as you felt your cheeks burn. “I’m rambling,” you mumbled, fiddling with the teaspoon on the little place your cup sat in. “Sorry, I talk too much. I’ll shut up.”

“Don’t,” he immediately said, “I like hearing you talk.”

You blinked.

God. He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“R-right, uh, I just really, really love her music.” Everything about the moment threw you off. The way he was able to so skillfully grab you and plunge you back into the past you had tried so hard to run away from was jarring. It wasn’t even something that slowly crept up on you, instead clutching you by the collar and throwing you straight into it, right back into your sixteen-year-old self’s shoes. 

“I can tell. I’ll do my best with those tickets.” His promise almost flew over your head entirely and you forced a smile, staring down at your coffee awkwardly.  He still liked hearing you talk and your loquacious nature. Some things stayed the same no matter the course of time.

You let yourself wonder if he felt the same way about you as well, but just for a second. 

There was no way you could let yourself get away with thinking about it anymore because it would strip you of any dignity you had left. Your feelings for him had only grown dormant over the years and were now being awoken from their hibernation with every minute more you spent in his invigorating presence. It was unrealistic and childish to think that he felt the same way anymore.

The lack of any mention of Yeonmi, the way he seemed to be talking to you more lately and going so far as to meet with you on a weekly basis, well, the signs were definitely there, weren’t they? You were well aware of how much of an asshole move this was from both your ends towards your oblivious roommate, but as much as you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was terrible, but there was nothing happening. You were allowed to enjoy these fleeting moments that when boiled down to it, meant nothing at all.

But as he smiled at your excited demeanour, looking at you like you were everything he could ever want, you couldn’t help but wish that it did.

Yeonmi stood in front of the ice cream display, scanning all the different flavours at her disposal. You stood by her side, already digging into your own ice cream and waiting patiently for her to be done.

“You’ve already chosen what you want,” you pointed out. “Do you want a second cup or something?”

She shook her head. “Not for me, for Donghyuck. I’m going to meet him later on and since he likes sweet stuff I thought I’d get him a tub.” 

You paused your movements. Their meetings had grown sparse from what you had heard from her, with her having to plan most of them and him simply agreeing. It killed you a little on the inside, filling you with guilt at the suspicion that you had something to do with it.

The earnest lilt in her voice, her eagerness to please him- it reminded you so much of yourself. You disliked the way he was treating her, but you also found a sense of relief in it, and when you acknowledged that, you officially accepted that you were probably the worst friend in the universe.

“Have you chosen what you would like yet?” The teenager behind the counter asked impatiently. She looked like she would have rather been anywhere else in the world, but she was probably a highschooler who wanted some extra cash and this was the best she had gotten.

“No, sorry,” your roommate said dejectedly. “I’m not sure what he’d like.” 

Deciding to put her out of her misery, you spoke up. “Can we get a tub of cookies and cream?” The girl nodded, boredly taking one of the tubs out of the freezer and sliding it across the counter, calling out its price. Yeonmi flashed you a confused look and fumbled with her purse for a few seconds, taking out a few dollar bills and handing it over. 

The two of you walked out of the ice cream store, and she doubtfully looked at the tub. “What if he doesn’t like this?”

“He likes cookies and cream ice cream.”

“How would you know?”

You stopped walking and glanced at her, quickly realising you had slipped up. You tried not to take offence at the defensive nature of her tone, knowing that she had every right to be that way. She was technically his girlfriend, she should have been the one to know what flavour he would want. 

So you bit down hard on your tongue when the urge to tell her that you knew him better than she ever could sprung to its tip. You were bitter at having to let that go, your ego bruising from the fact that you weren’t entitled to the position of being the one who knew him so well, even though you had everything for it.

“He told me.” You said weakly, dropping your now empty cup into one of the bins on the sidewalk.

“When?”

Eight years ago. That was the truth, but you knew very well that you couldn’t possibly tell her that after pretending you had never met him before. The edge that her voice possessed right then put you off, but you brushed it to the side, knowing deep down that she had the right. “That one movie night we had.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember talking about ice cream at all.” 

“You fell asleep, remember? We spoke about it after that, just before he left.” The lie tasted sour, but not the pleasant kind of sour that is followed by a sweetness like a sour patch candy. This type of sour was persisting, the type that tainted your mouth from just its feel, spreading to your lips and the back of your neck.

“Oh.” She sounded hollow, letting the arm that held the bag containing the tub of ice cream fall limply to her side. “Okay.”

“You can tell him you picked it out.” 

You knew he wouldn't believe it anyway. “Okay,” She repeated, but you could tell how miserably she truly was. Resentment filled you, but just as quickly so did pity, replacing the former in the blink of an eye.

She had finally moved on from her sorry excuse of an ex and found happiness in another man, only for him to suddenly pull away right when she was ready to give it her all. You understood that more than anyone ever could, but in a completely different sense. To her, Donghyuck was emotionally absent now. For you, he had been wholly absent, snatched away and out of your reach for so long.

Yeonmi still had the chance to hold him, if he let her. You never had that.

And then your pity for her was replaced by anger.

Donghyuck had no right to run her around in circles like he was doing. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to make a decision on whether he wanted her or not.

You didn’t want to know the answer though, because the chances of it breaking your heart were high, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle another heartbreak at his hands. It could also remove him from your life once again, and you’d continue to be haunted, just by new memories this time around. 

And just like that, you understood why he couldn’t make a decision so easily, because you couldn’t either. You wanted nothing more than for him to choose you, but it was the very last thing you would ask for, reluctant and afraid to hurt someone else in the process of healing your very own innate brokennes.

So you walked with Yeonmi back to your shared apartment and talked about insignificant things to take her mind off it all, trying to do the same for yourself. 

x] then.

When a storm is coming, you can almost always tell.

It may not look like it, but intuition works in mysterious ways. That sinking feeling that stirs deep within your gut, discomfort flooding your system slowly and warning you of something bad to come. You try your best to ignore it, to pretend as if you’re overthinking and going crazy and that everything is fine. You revel in ignorant bliss and sunny days, growing all too comfortable with the stability of the everyday life you have grown accustomed to. You let yourself believe that the calm before a storm is permanent.

Donghyuck knew something was wrong the moment he walked into his house that fateful November evening, four whole months since he had first stepped foot inside it when they first moved in. He had learned the pattern of the switches, he knew the layout of the house by heart. 

His mother sat on the dining table, her face buried in her hands. Usually, he would walk upstairs to his room and not bother, but this time something made him stop.

“Mom?”

She looked up at him, and he noticed just how exhausted she looked. His mother was a beautiful woman, but time had worn her down just like it did to everyone, and all the stress she was under had caused some of her black hair to turn grey. Wrinkles showed on her palms, her laugh lines had grown deeper. 

“Donghyuck,” she said his name with a heavy sigh. “Come. Sit.”

On most days he had an excuse to avoid this, saying that he had homework or a project to work on, but today he complied, taking a seat next to his mother. 

“How was school today?”

“Good,” he answered. She gave him an encouraging smile that was clearly forced for his sake, and clasped her hands together.

“Good, good.”

“Is….is that it?” He asked gently, suddenly not wanting to be there. It was like his body was trying to get him out of the situation, knowing something was off before his brain did. Unfortunately, some things were unavoidable and inevitable, and just like that the clouds began to darken.

She shook her head, “No, there’s something I need to talk to you about” She reached out and grabbed his hand that was on the table, squeezing it hard. “It’s important, okay?”

He nodded slowly, now trapped within the conversation with no escape. His mother exhaled and shut her eyes, dropping her head in what seemed like defeat. “I’ve been offered a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes- with a much better salary. Of course, I’m beyond blessed with the amount I get now but we’d be more comfortable, it’s a better opportunity.” She rubbed the hand of his that she held soothingly, as if trying to soften the blow she was about to give. 

The waves gradually grew more turbulent, slow but definite. It was clear that she was trying to approach whatever she was trying to say with as much tact as possible, but was only succeeding in frustrating the boy with her vagueness. 

“Just spit it out, Mom. What's happening?”

“We’re moving, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck sat there, stunned into a silence at what his mother had just said. Finally, she was done beating around the bushes like he had wanted, but now he wished he had let her take her time. It almost didn’t even feel real to hear, the true weightage of her words not quite registering just yet.

“What?”

His voice was devoid of any emotion, falling flat and harshly against the gentle, apologetic facade that his mother upheld. “In a few months, I know that it’s hard to hear and I’m sorry I have to uproot your life once again but I promise it’ll all be worth it I just-” She shakily exhaled, as if trying to expel all the fatigue she had accumulated over the years of switching out jobs and moving around in an attempt to create a better life for her only son. “I promise I’ll try and make this bearable and it’ll be the last time.”

If she had the choice, she would never have chosen such a turbulent lifestyle. After all, who would ever want to thrust their child into such an unstable environment- it being unstable due to its ever changing nature? But being a single mother was difficult and she had to do whatever she had to in order to survive.

The ship that Donghyuck stood upon began to rock as the storm intensified. 

“It’s been less than a year,” He said icily. “Five months.”

“We’re not moving immediately. I have to finish up some work here and get everything together before we leave. Three months.” She rushed to assure him of this as if it fixed anything.

“So eight months. That’s still less than a year, Mom.”

“I know sweetheart, I’m so sorry.

Sympathy filled her expression and she squeezed his hand, trying to convey that she understood his frustration. That notion was perfectly ridiculous sounding to Donghyuck, how could she even begin to think that she understood how he would be feeling? If she did, then why was she once again ruining his life?

If she was really so sorry, she wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. He clenched his jaw, looking away from his mother and around the living room he had finally grown familiar with. Every other time this had happened he had always grinned and bore with it because there never seemed like a reason to fight back. He had grown complacent and used to the cycle, expecting it almost.

But this time he had prayed it wouldn’t be the same. This time, he had grown attached to the dusty streets of the town and the long school days. He had a favourite store, more friends than he had ever had in his life and more importantly, a favourite person. This time, it wouldn’t just be him leaving behind a bunch of acquaintances, it would mean him having to leave you behind as well. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of that, his fury welling up and coming to the surface. For once in his life he had someone he wanted to stay for.

“If you’re so sorry,” he said, voice low and enraged all the same, “You won’t do this again.”

Her eyes softened, “I have to. I won’t ask you to understand, but-” 

“I hate you.”

The moment he said it, he could see his mothers countenance crumble, but the sympathy in it only increased. No parent ever wanted to hear their child say those words to them and he knew that in his heart, he didn’t truly mean them, but he was just so indescribably angry with her and the world for constantly doing this to him. 

It was cruel for him to say it without any hesitation, that much was certain the moment he saw tears well up in her eyes. She was a strong woman, refusing to let them escape and fall down her weary face for his sake, and he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer. Aggressively, he pushed his chair back and stormed off, bounding up the stairs of the house that would no longer be his with his heart hammering in his chest.

It was only in the comfort of his room that he let himself let out the sob that had been choking him up as he crumpled near the foot of his bed, a heavy sense of loss already passing through him. His eyes drifted to one of the walls of his room.

He had never put much thought into decorating, but there on it were three posters you had managed to convince him to put up with you, insisting that they livened the place up a little. He would have to tear them down now, just like everything else in his erratic, volatile life. Every other time was easier because there had been no bonds to sever in the process. He had let himself foolishly trust that his continued resilience was all for the happiness he had ultimately found now.

Perhaps this was why he had been so reluctant to let you help him decorate his room. Subconsciously, he had known that it would all be for naught when the nature of his life caught back up to him. Somehow he had already known that this was never meant to be anything more than temporary.

The waves capsized his ship and down Donghyuck went, sinking beneath the surface of the storm and below the storming sea, drowning in his sorrow.

You sat in the driver's seat of your father’s car, legs propped up on the seat with your cardboard container of fries balancing on your knees. Donghyuck occupied the passenger's seat, biting into his burger.

The both of you were parked in the local diners parking lot in the late evening after school. Donghyuck had said something about not feeling like going straight home, and since you had driven to school that day, you suggested taking a detour and hanging out for a little. 

“I was thinking,” you started, picking out a fry and biting into it, glancing sideways at the boy who owned all of your teenage affections. 

“Hmm?”

“I wanna tell my parents,” you declared finally, finishing the fry. He blinked, lowering his burger and looking at you pointedly. “About us.”

“All of a sudden? Why?” His mystification was justified since ever since the two of you had begun dating, you had been adamant on trying to hide it from them. It hadn’t been the intent initially, you simply were procrastinating their reaction- not that it would be a bad one- and as time went on, it got easier to put off. That being said, it also got harder to hide.

You shrugged, shifting in the car seat and reaching out to adjust the volume of the radio. “I just think it’s time, you know? I’ve been putting it off long enough and I want them to know about you. The smile that crept up on your face when you said that was enough to have a pit form at the bottom of his stomach.

Guilt is an ugly emotion. It manifests slowly, digging into your insides as it grows in its magnitude until it's up to your throat, depriving you of air and choking you. 

Needless to say, you weren’t the only one putting off telling someone the truth.

Avoidance wasn’t something that was inherently built into his nature, but it came into play almost naturally now. He had managed to evade being around his mother as much as possible over the past week or so, ever since she had dropped the news that completely displaced his entire world. Similarly, he had been avoiding bringing up what was happening to you, telling himself that he still had some time

But the truth was, saying out loud and admitting it all to you was just too much for him. It made it feel real and not like some terrible nightmare he had been living for the past few days. He didn’t want the reality of it all to hit him just yet.

“Do you have to?”

“Kind of?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question. “We’ve been dating for almost three months now Hyuck, do you expect me to just keep it from them forever?”

He winced internally, beating himself up about how you were talking about your relationship with him. It felt wrong to let you naively talk about a supposed forever when he knew that simply wasn’t going to be the case.

Your forever was going to be quickly cut short. 

“Of course not,” he mumbled, sighing softly. “I don’t know. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

You frowned slightly, turning the volume down and putting your fries on the dashboard, giving him all your attention. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. He wanted to laugh, mostly because the only other option he had was to cry and he couldn’t do that without having to expose it all. Instead though, he shook his head as nonchalantly as he possibly could, refusing to meet your eyes and instead staring at his burger. “Nope.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, that was definitely believable. Come on, tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You said you didn’t feel like going home today. Is it something to do with that?”

You were too smart for your own good. He rolled his eyes, attempting to remain lighthearted, “What if that just meant I wanted to spend more time with you?”

“Weird fucking way of putting it, then. You could have just said you wanted to hang out.”

He put his burger on the dashboard as well and turned to you, holding your gaze firmly in the hopes that it would thwart your suspicions by appearing to be sincere. “Y/n,” he said your name steadily, a slight smile playing upon his lips that from the outside looked effortless, when in reality it was the most forced he had ever been. “Nothing is wrong. Drop it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. You could respect that.  “Alright, I’ll back off.” You raised your hands to the sides of your face to mimic surrendering and earning an amused look from his end in the process. 

It scared him a little bit, how you seemed to be able to look right through him without even knowing the full extent of what he was going through. He had known you for so little time- too little almost- and yet you knew him better than anyone else. 

Leaving you behind was going to be the thing that hurt the most.

He leaned over and kissed you gently. “Thank you. And you’re right, you should tell your parents.” Your trusting countenance clawed at him, only worsening the sickening feeling of culpability that swirled in his gut. Maybe he’d tell you tomorrow, or the week after. Maybe he’d wait for another month so that he could gather his wits first.

If you doubted his confident facade, you didn’t let it show.

“Hey Donghyuck?”

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.”

Five little words should be entirely inconsequential, but even as young as he was, Donghyuck knew their true weightage. He knew you meant it by the credulousness in your gaze and the gentle squeeze of your hand on his. 

The two of you were sitting on the roof outside your room's window, you clad in sweats and his jacket- the very same one he had given you weeks ago at the playground. You had never given it back to him. He was in casual clothing as well, having sneaked onto your room during the early hours of the morning to hang out with you.

Time with you seemed to be fleeting now, and so he clung onto every minute he got. You had your head resting on his shoulder as the sun began peeking over the town and spilling its golden rays all over the little houses and buildings, lighting them up and bringing vibrancy to the town. 

Love was a complex emotion, a haphazard mishmash of several others in proportions that were unique to every occurrence it manifested itself in. Trust, admiration, infatuation and many more- they made up the feeling that everyone on the planet supposedly sought after so desperately. If it was truly so unpredictable, how did anyone know what it felt to be in love?

He sucked in a breath as seconds passed. Then, he squeezed your hand back.

“I love you too.”

xi] now.

Yeonmi was a great friend, ever ready to show her endless support for you in all your endeavours. 

“Smile! And for god's sake, get a drink and lighten up. It’s all your friends here.” She slid her index finger under the strap of your dress, lifting up to its correct position on your shoulder. 

You sighed and complied, flashing a smile for her sake, promising to make your way to the kitchen and do as she asked. She inspected your eye makeup one last time, pleased with how her handiwork had turned out and left your room, reminding you to hurry up and get out there. 

You had gotten a promotion at work a week ago, and when you had revealed the news to her she insisted that you celebrate properly for the occasion, taking it upon herself to organise a small party at your apartment. She invited some of your friends from work and a few mutual friends of yours- not too many people in all, but since your apartment wasn’t the biggest, it was already starting to feel a little cramped.

Pulling yourself together, you left the confines of your room, finding yourself humming along to the music that she was playing. The dress you had donned was definitely not as short as the ones you had insisted on wearing during your highschool years, having opted to go for a more respectful length now that you were older, but it made you feel pretty and put-together.

Among the familiar smiles and toned down congratulations that you received, you found your eyes wandering until they met another pair that was already trained on you.

Donghyuck was there, of course he was. Yeonmi had already told you that she had asked him to attend and you had been expecting his presence.

So why then did you feel your heartbeat pick up a little, as if it had come as a surprise?

You looked away

A slow hour passed.

In your teenage years, parties had been something you had always enjoyed partaking in, but right then you felt a tad uncomfortable. You quickly deduced that this was because all those times, you had just been another partygoer, lost among the rest of the drunken crowd. Here, you were the subject of the party, the centre of attention. 

People came up to congratulate you and make small talk. It struck you then, just how different your life was now from what it was back then. You were older in a different city, surrounded by people who had nothing to do with what felt like your previous life. Your old best friends, people you had thought would stick by you to the very end were not there, you were far away from your parents and were no longer a child that depended on them for everything. You had an apartment you called your own that you shared with your roommate. 

The only thing- person- that had somehow belonged to both your youth and adulthood was Donghyuck.

Flushed with the alcohol that you had consumed, you excused yourself from the umpteenth conversation you'd been dragged into with some of your colleagues and made your way to the kitchen, wine glass in hand. Shutting the doors behind you, you revelled in the momentary silence. 

You noticed the bottle of wine sitting on the counter and looked at your empty glass. Being the focal point of everyone's attention had never been something you particularly enjoyed and so to ease the bubbling anxiety inside of you, you walked over and poured yourself another, swirling it around and taking a good, long sip. 

The sweet wine trickled down your throat, kissing it soothingly with its tart berry flavours. You were no doubt tipsy at this point, having subconsciously fallen back upon the alcohol to support you through all the socialising. You truly wished Yeonmi hadn’t been so insistent on this stupid thing, you would have been more than happy to celebrate by going out to dinner, just the two of you.

“Oh! You’re here too.”

You spun around, clutching the stem of your wine glass a little tighter and automatically leaning your back against the counter when you felt your balance slip away from you a little. Donghyuck shut the door, hesitating.

“Am…Am I intruding?”

He totally was intruding on your solitude, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it came to him, thus shaking your head ‘no’. “Not at all, I just needed a moment.”

“I can leave if you’d like.”

“Don’t.” And you meant it. You didn’t want him to leave and he was the only one you would willingly tolerate at that moment. He flicked the lock of the door, sealing it shut to the rest of your guests and walked over to you with his own glass. You handed him the bottle of wine.

He nodded in silent thanks. “Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you took a small sip of your wine, looking at him and allowing yourself to study his matured features. There was not a thing about him that didn’t explicitly shine, a being so enigmatic and beautiful that it had you in awe of him even eight years later. “Not that it’s anything exciting like your job. I just sit in a nicer office now.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s still pretty cool, you’re still pretty young for your own office, aren’t you?”

You nodded bashfully. Even though you tried to remain as modest as possible when it came to the good news, you were quite proud of yourself. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get so far so quickly out of college.”

Donghyuck shuffled a little closer until he was right next to you. The urge to lean into him sprung up out of nowhere, the little voice in your head telling you to do so abruptly growing stronger. You drank the rest of your wine in an attempt to drown it out, only succeeding in doing the complete opposite.

God, he smelled amazing. You could get hints of the cologne he had on, a musky scent that had hints of something citrusy in the mix- thoroughly dizzying to you. You despised how much control he had over you without even knowing it.

“I had to repeat my senior year of highschool.”

His words snapped you out of your self-induced reverie, and you cocked your head to the side in question, prompting him to continue. As of late, your little coffee dates (your mind had defaulted to calling them that, even though you knew you shouldn’t), he had begun sharing bits and pieces of his life, and you had started doing the same. However, this was quite out of the blue, piquing your curiosity.

“After we moved,” he clarified, uncertainty creeping into his voice as if he was afraid of how you would react. “I almost flunked the eleventh grade finals in my new school and barely made it to the twelfth, and then that began, I barely attended, bunking almost all my classes to hang out with this group I had somehow managed to fall into.”

He sounded regretful as he spoke and you didn’t dare interrupt. You had often speculated what he was doing after he left, while you mourned the loss of your love, you had spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning, wondering if he was thinking about you as well.

“They were terrible influences, but at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was never in class, always at one of their garages with some sort of alcohol. A lot of that year was a blur, with me being drunk almost every day. I’d leave the house in the morning and say I was going to school and take a detour. My grades fell but I never paid attention to it because of how unhappy I was.”

Your eyes stung with emotion for him, because although you had resented him so much, he was still only a kid back then. Pairing this new information with what he had told you about his flighty childhood, you couldn’t even imagine the sheer level of frustration he must have experienced with having to adapt to yet another place.

“By the end of the year, my attendance was so terrible that they couldn’t let me write the finals, nor could they let me graduate, leaving me with the option to drop out. My mother was in tears and we fought a lot when I told her about it. At first I was fine with just dropping out and giving up, but she said something that made me rethink that.”

“What did she say?” You whispered, your heart feeling as if it was in your throat. You hadn’t even realised you had moved in position, now even closer and directly in front of him.

He sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to live without having to uproot every year or so, and the only way I could do that is if I didn’t give up. And that got me thinking about everything.”

His glass was empty now. “I realised I didn’t like my so-called friends, I hated what I had become and I didn’t want to continue living the way I had for so long. I thought long and hard about what my mother said and then…then I thought about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you held his gaze, searching his face for answers before he presented them to you. 

“Me?”

He reached out, his fingers oh-so-carefully brushing against the skin of your cheek, dragging back slowly and tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, lingering there. 

“Yes, you.” A wistful smile made a show on his face. “I thought about how my mother said she wanted me to graduate and push forward so I wouldn’t live the same life she created for us, and how if she had done the same thing she was begging of me, maybe-” His voice cracked, causing a jolt down your spine and your sight to blur slightly with the emergence of tears, but they didn’t fall just yet.

“-Maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave you.”

Fuck.

A single tear trickled down the apples of your cheeks, and the moment it did, his thumb wiped it away gently. 

“So I agreed to the second option, which was having to repeat my senior year. I attended every class that I could, I studied and worked hard for every test. I graduated late, but I managed to do it, and then I moved to New York just before I turned nineteen.”

“Donghyuck…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say.  It was clear to you now that he had to grow up a lot earlier than you had, even if it hadn’t seemed that way at first. You had a good family life and a stable, comfortable childhood. You were allowed to figure it out slowly, never being exposed to any sort of extreme turbulence that shook your world so deeply other than his leaving- and you had support through that as well in the form of your friends. Donghyuck had none of that, left all alone.

“All I wanted to say was that without you, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“Don’t do that,” you said almost sorrowfully, “You did it yourself. I just happened to be a part of it for a little while.”

“You should have been a part of it for longer.”

He wiped the stray tears that escaped your eyes at that, knowing how much weight that statement alone held. You shut your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to try and pull yourself together, but to no avail. Quietly, you responded. “I know.”

“Don’t cry,” He whispered, tilting your face up by your chin, a fond expression gracing those gorgeous features of his, and your eyelids fluttering open to look at him, committing every single detail about them to your memory. “You look beautiful tonight, Y/n.”

The compliment stung, like needles digging into the surface of your skin roughly. You knew you were completely undeserving of it, that it should have been directed to your friend who was somewhere outside the privacy of the kitchen and yet there you were, basking in his attention like you always did in the few stolen moments you got with him. 

You were quite aware that you weren’t sober and you were willing to bet that he wasn’t either. Here the two of you were once again, eight long years later at a party, alone yet together. The irony of it all was not lost on you, and you somehow knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few seconds and still you made no motion to stop it. 

His lips found yours instinctively, kissing you hard. You let him, the familiarity of it all rushing back to you so quickly that it nearly knocked you off your feet. Your hands rested upon his arms as his mouth moved against yours, rendering you breathless and at his disposal. You were his, you had always been his just as he had always been yours, no matter how much time had passed or how much the two of you had changed.

If the wine had gotten you tipsy, his kiss had you downright intoxicated. You were drunk on the sensation, leaning into him to get as close as possible to take it all in. You memorised the way his thumb traced your jaw so tenderly as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you.

Life had somehow brought you right back to him full-circle, ending right when it had started the two of you off. Perhaps it was a cruel joke, to give you everything you had ever wanted in such a limited capacity and to simultaneously make it completely off-limits.

Eight years you had waited for this, and nothing had ever felt as liberating as it was wrong.

“We need to talk.”

It was the second time you were hearing these very words from Donghyuck’s mouth, and you were just as reluctant to comply as the first.

“No.”

He looked at you, frustration decorating the expression he had directed towards you. “We can’t keep avoiding it.”

Yeonmi had invited him over again for a movie night, but realised you had run out of coke and had volunteered to run down the store and get some more, blithely unaware of the clear tension between him and you. Then again, she had never noticed anything when it came to that, but it made your life much harder. 

“I think you’re just fine at that.” God, you couldn’t even begin to explain the magnitude of your anger. He was sitting there on the other end of your couch after a week of saying nothing to you- which was mostly your fault, considering you hadn’t shown up for your little coffee date that week and had stoutly ignored any calls or texts he sent your way- but that wasn’t the point.

The point in question? The fact that despite having kissed you, he evidently hadn’t broken things off with Yeonmi.

He frowned, “What do you mean?” 

Now, it wasn’t as if you wanted him to break up with her for you or anything, but rather because it was the right thing to do. Of course, this wasn’t to say that you didn’t secretly hope the former would be the reason for it, but deep down, you knew that you couldn't even indulge in that. The incident had been eating away at you ever since it happened–

– Well, what exactly had happened?

You recalled the way you broke out of his touch the moment he whispered your name against your lips and brought you back to reality. You remembered how the crash felt, the way you had been on top of the world for a few seconds before it all crumbled right at your feet, the long-growing anticipation dying out into unadulterated guilt.

You remembered thinking of Yeonmi, your sweet, supportive friend who hadn’t done a single thing to deserve what you had just done to her. 

When that happened, you wordlessly left the confines of the kitchen, avoiding him for the rest of the evening. Your cheeks felt hot and you felt light headed, but you had to keep up your image until everyone had gone home. He disappeared some time after that, the reason unknown to Yeonmi, who informed you of his sudden departure. 

“I mean, you’ve done a great job at completely avoiding talking about Yeonmi before, so you should have no problem avoiding talking about whatever happened between us.”

He clenched his jaw. “That's not fair and you know it.”

You did. You were too proud to admit it to his face though, refusing to let him pummel through your already shattered dignity. “Whatever.” You were still seated, staring up at him in defiance as your fingernails dug into the cushioning of the couch.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut me out again. Talk to me.”

“I shut you out because you left me, Donghyuck. I’m sorry for not letting you back in with open arms, if that's what you wanted from me.” You were terrified of this, manic at possibly having to face the music. You were so much better at running away from it all, away from him.

He sighed in retirement. “We kissed.”

Your throat felt dry. “Yeah.” 

“Y/n-”

“Don’t,” you warned, feeling emotion bubble to the surface and crack into your speech against your will. 

“I want to talk about it. I need you to talk about it with me.”

Stupid, perfect Donghyuck. You loathed the way that even after everything, after all this time, trouble and everything in between, he was somehow still everything you had ever wanted.

You kept your voice airy and as light as possible although your tongue felt heavier than it had ever been. “If you’d like, we can pretend like it never happened in the first place, just like we pretended we weren’t a thing.”

A thing. What a gross, unjustified oversimplification of what you had with him when you were younger, and cruel too, but you had no choice. You had spent every waking hour going over the possibilities, every outcome of the situation you had stumbled into and had come to a singular conclusion: you were going to get hurt.

Donghyuck stared at you in disbelief, getting to his feet and pacing around the room as if he was trying to create space between him and you to get away, but coming back moments later. “Don’t pin that on me. That was all you.”

A bitter laugh left you as you stood up, now face to face with him. The tension was arid, almost choking you, but his gaze had an even more adverse effect, cutting right through you like you were nothing at all and holding you accountable. He was so close to you, close enough to reach out and touch and kiss once again if you so wished.

But wishing for the unattainable was futile.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Futility be damned, you wanted another taste of what it felt like to be kissed by Lee Donghyuck already, having been stripped of that luxury without having any say in it all those years ago. Just like that, you were breathless and your thoughts scattered, the air between him and you turning electric.

God, you were so tempted to just give in and press your lips to his, but you knew you couldn’t, no matter how the way he was looking at you made you consider risking it all.

“Oh and what did you expect me to say? That it was wonderful she was dating my ex-boyfriend?”

And that's when you heard glass shatter.

You startled, taking a step away from Donghyuck immediately and your head snapping to the direction of the sound, only to find Yeonmi standing by the door. 

Two broken glass bottles of coke lay near her feet, their contents spilled and pooled around her shoes. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know- the disbelief in her eyes and agape mouth, those features laced with striking betrayal. In the heat of your argument with Donghyuck, you hadn’t heard the door open, neither had you heard your roommate enter, and you were certain that she had heard that last bit. 

Worse, she had seen the two of you like that. It didn’t matter how quickly you had retreated away from him. 

The scene was horrific in her eyes, and you could only imagine it from her perspective. The man she was dating and her roommate, someone she trusted and considered close, looked as if they were about to kiss each other right in front of her as if she didn’t exist in the first place.

“Yeonmi– I can explain–” You scrambled to try and piece together something that sounded plausible. 

“Explain what, exactly?” She asked quietly, staring at you like she had seen a ghost. You had never heard her speak with such hollowness and it scared you. “That you, the both of you, lied to me?” 

You had nothing to say to that because it was completely true. Everything about this was your fault and you could relate to the betrayal that she felt right then, you understood the hurt that she undoubtedly was experiencing right then.

“It makes sense now,” she said, tears springing to her eyes as she looked from you to him. “How you knew she knew so much about you, why you suddenly distanced yourself from me when I thought things were going well.” Donghyuck exhaled, looking at the ceiling and shutting his eyes. “You never really wanted me.”

“I’m sorry, Yeonmi.” 

You watched as tears made their way down your friend's face. You felt like a fraud for still referring to her as a friend when you had been anything but one to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed like her grief took over, only a choked sob leaving her. 

“I never want to see you again.”

And she turned around and walked out, storming into the hallway outside your apartment. You followed her out as quickly as possible in desperation, leaving Donghyuck behind. The yellow hallway felt intimidating all of a sudden, as if it was staring you down for the sins you had committed against your roommate. “Yeonmi, wait–”

She stopped outside the elevator and turned around to face you. “Why?” Her question felt like a sharpened rod prodding at your heart, or perhaps a knife driving through you and leaving you there to bleed out. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Your helplessness finally escaped you in a rush, your own tears gathering in your eyes. “I didn’t want to, I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” 

This was all wrong. You had never wanted to hurt someone else, you had never wanted to spread the pain you had carried with you all these years to her and had done everything in your power to avoid doing so. You had done everything you thought was right and yet here you were, having made a mess of it all anyway. 

“I never…” You trailed off, your voice failing you as your tears trickled down, stinging your skin with their heat. “I never meant for it to be like this. I’m so sorry.” 

“He’s your ex.”

You nodded miserably, burying your face in your hands and pressing your palms over your eyes hard. You let your hands slide into your hair, tugging in frustration before you gathered the courage to finally look at her again.

“A long time ago. We were kids.” 

“And you’re still in love with him.”

You didn’t bother answering that one because you knew it wasn’t a question, looking at your feet until your vision got blurry from all the tears, some of them dribbling down your chin and onto the thick carpet beneath your slippers, staining it a darker colour than it was. Of course you were in love with Donghyuck, but it had come in between her own falling for him and she, despite having done nothing wrong, had to suffer the consequences.

“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against the wall. “You should have told me. I would have stopped seeing him immediately if I knew.”

This wasn’t groundbreaking news, you had inherently known this from the start. “I know.” 

“If you knew, then for fucks sake, why didn’t you tell me?” Her anger was warranted in every sense and ever scenario having to do with this, the force and outrage in her tone making you visibly flinch.

“Because,” you hesitated, before deciding that hiding anything more from her wouldn’t do you any good. “Because you were happy.”

She softened slightly at that. “But you weren’t, Y/n.”

“I hadn’t seen you that happy since…” You didn’t need to finish or mention her ex, you knew she understood. “I couldn’t bring myself to take that from you.”

She took a few steps towards you, failing to portray any malice now. “You ruined it anyways, and I think this is much worse.” Pity exuded off of her while she spoke to you, but just as quickly as you felt it, it was gone, replaced by the sheer magnitude of deception she felt. “You let me experience a false sense of happiness and consequently ruined it, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” 

You certainly didn’t expect her to. You didn’t even dare ask her for forgiveness, knowing that you didn’t deserve it at all. 

“But I can’t blame you for loving him. And I can’t blame him for being in love with you either because I can see it. It finally makes sense now.” She sighed in defeat, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I hate you.”

“I know.” 

“And I can’t be happy for you either, so I’m going to leave. I’ll stay over at Chaewons.”

You shook your head. “No, I should be the one who goes, you should stay at the apartment.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who deserves to have a friend to talk to, so I’m going to go.” You could tell how hard she was trying to remain calm, removing herself from the situation before she did anything stupid. She walked away from you and towards the elevator, calling it to your floor. You nodded, letting a defeated sigh escape your lungs.

“Okay. Drive safe. I’m sorry.” 

“I will.” Yeonmi stepped into the elevator and faced you one last time, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry too Y/n, because I never want to see you again either.”

xii] then.

You occupied one of the swings, humming an idle tune you had heard on the radio earlier that day while you looked through your phone. Currently, it was 7:15 p.m, fifteen minutes after Donghyuck had promised to meet you at the park. You didn’t think much of it though, since he was usually on time and would show up soon enough.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked up from your scrolling to see him standing there a little away from you and smiled. He seemed out of breath as if he had run all the way here and his hair was tousled from the wind that blew, biting into your exposed skin. You realised you had left his jacket at home. 

“Hey you,” you hardly ever recognised the tone your cadence took on when it was directed towards him, and you couldn’t pinpoint when it switched to such transparent affection either, but you weren’t one to question such things. Your love for him was as sure as the cycle of the earth around the sun, an inevitable happenstance of fate. 

“I can’t stay for long,” he informed you regretfully, walking over and occupying the swing beside yours. “I have to be home earlier today.”

“That’s okay,” you checked the time. 7:17. “How early?”

He winced, “Eight technically, but I’m sure I can stretch it till eight-thirty.”

You waved this suggestion off, shaking your head. “Nah it’s fine, I don’t want you to get in trouble. We can talk while we walk home.”

“Okay.” He followed you out of the park and onto the streets. Still being winter, the days were short and the sky was already dark, the streetlights provided the pair of you with illumination, second to the moon peeking out from behind the clouds as if it was afraid to call the sky its own before its usual time. 

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you fell in step with him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “We can just hang out tomorrow.” The next day was a Sunday, which meant you had the entire day to yourselves if you so pleased.

His smile faltered slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.” 

You completely missed the uncertainty coating the word and the anxiety he felt right then, pulling him along with you as you walked. Teenage foolishness was truly a fool's paradise, your blissful unawareness blessing you with a bounce in your step and a worry free mind. Donghyuck meanwhile was struggling to keep up, his guilt making it feel as if his feet were heavier than ever, the knowledge he possessed and had effectively kept from you being the cause of his misery. 

So you talked about your day, the difficult question on your test that day and about Sakura’s progress with Yuta (which had been minimal at best, but you were proud of her nonetheless because at least now she could wave ‘hello’ to the boy). He listened to you chatter endlessly, the sound of your excited rambling distracting him from his troubles. There was never a moment he was bored when around you and he truly did love to listen to you talk. 

He’d miss that more than anything. He’d miss you more than anything he had ever had the chance to miss.

“Oh we’re here,” you stopped outside your house and turned to him, walking right into his arms for a quick goodbye hug, planting a chaste kiss upon his lips before you pulled away. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, watching as you began walking to your door. He already missed the feeling of your skin against his, wishing he had held you for a little bit longer. Was he already forgetting the taste of your kiss, even though you were only a few feet away from him?

“Y/n?”

You stopped and looked back at him, your smile visible in your eyes. “Yeah?”

He was leaving tonight. That was why he had to be home early, because it would be the last time he ever set foot in that house. Tonight he would be gone, and you still didn’t know a damn thing. It was too late to explain. That was his own doing and now he’d simply have to live with the guilt plaguing him for what would probably be the rest of his life. Every time he thought about you, it would attack him once more and push him underwater, holding him there until he ran out of breath. 

So he would have to settle for something small and manageable to quell his culpability, at least by a little. 

“I’m sorry.”

He knew that it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for everything. Two meagre words couldn’t do much at all and it wasn’t capable of fixing anything either, but it was the best he could do. His heart felt heavy, and he could feel his eyes sting with tears at the sight of your confused face at this, finally letting the unhappiness he felt crack through. “I’m so sorry.”

Concern bled into your features. “For what? Hyuck, are you okay?”

Donghyuck shook his head and blinked rapidly to stop himself from crying in front of you, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step back. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just– see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you to eye his figure as it sauntered down the street and disappeared around the corner. He was confusing sometimes, switching from being happy to something entirely else within seconds. 

You opened the door and walked into your house as night fell.

The next day, he was late again. 

Usually he would pick you up on holidays before you went anywhere, but today he was nowhere to be seen. It was noon now, and you glanced outside your window, anticipating his car to pull into your lane any moment now.

You momentarily entertained the idea of him possibly forgetting. It did seem like he had a lot on his mind as of late, so you wouldn’t blame him if he had. The only issue was that he wasn’t texting you back, nor was he answering your calls and so you decided to stop waiting around for him to show up, opting to go over to his house instead.

The sky was cloudy that day, a chill in the air that had you remembering to pull on a jacket before you set out this time, the gravel beneath your feet crunching loudly in the silence of the afternoon. Most of the town took their midday nap on a Sunday such as this one, making it seem a lot quieter than it was.

So when you walked up to his door and noticed all the lights in the house seemed to be off, you didn’t think much of it, preparing to apologise for disturbing if his mother happened to answer as you rang the bell. 

No response.

You frowned, waiting a minute or so before ringing the bell again twice in succession. When nothing happened, you slipped your phone out of your pocket and clicked on his contact, holding it up to your ears. It didn’t ring at all, immediately playing a recorded message instead.

‘This contact is temporarily out of service.’

Your intuition kicked in, telling you that something was inherently very wrong. Swallowing thickly, you tried ringing the bell one last time, louder than before.

“Y/n? What are you doing here sweetheart?”

You looked over to your right to see a lady in her fifties- a friend of your mothers- standing outside the neighbouring house, wrapped up in a robe. Embarrassment at causing a disturbance flared up inside of you as you rushed to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry Aunty, I just wanted to visit my friend Donghyuck.” You gestured toward the door to aid in your explanation, earning a perplexed look from her end.

“He’s not here anymore.”

There it was again, your intuition kicking you from the inside and clawing up, dread beginning to fill you. “I–I’m not sure I understand Aunty.” 

“They moved out sometime late last night, his mother had told me about it a month or so ago when she needed help fixing a hole in the wall to get her deposit back from their landlord. I had my husband help her– but that’s beside the point. They’re gone.”

The implication of the new information hadn’t quite registered yet, leaving you to stare at the lady, dumbfounded. “Gone,” you repeated under your breath. “Oh.”

“I thought you knew since you were such good friends with her son.” Friends. The word sounded bitter right then, because you had been so much more than that, but as you stood there and listened to your mothers friend talk, you wondered if you even qualified for that. Didn’t friends tell each other things? 

“Is everything okay, darling?” Why didn’t he tell you?

“It must have slipped my mind. I’m sorry for disturbing you Aunty.”

She waved it off, forgiving you easily and retreating back into her house. You stared at the door.

He couldn’t have been gone- it made no sense whatsoever. Just yesterday he had been by your side and had made plans to meet with you today. Why would he have done that if he was going to leave?

I’m sorry.

His cryptic words from the day before rushed back to you and you gasped to yourself when their magnitude finally hit you, causing you to stumble back and off of the landing of the house. He did know, he knew and had blatantly lied to your face without a second thought. Your mind went into overdrive as you tried to piece what had just happened together to form a coherent set of thoughts, failing miserably at doing so.

Two things were clear: Donghyuck was gone and you had no idea where or why. 

You tried calling him again, punching in his number into the dial pad almost furiously, willing him to pick up. When the same monotone message repeated itself, you cursed, accidentally dropping your phone onto the path you stood on in your frenzy.

“No, no, no, no” There was a certain manic quiver to your voice as you picked up the device, staring at his profile picture. It seemed to mock you now, the bright smile he sported in it that portrayed joy directly challenging the torrential downpour of agony that you were inflicted with, thus rendered utterly despaired.

Your boyfriend was gone, and he hadn’t bothered to tell you about it. 

The boy you loved, heck, the person you adored and meant the most to you in the entire world had left you without so much as a proper goodbye, leaving you behind to wonder why. You hadn’t the faintest idea where he could have been at that moment, just knowing that he wasn’t where he had promised he’d be and where you needed him most.

Hot tears spilled out of your eyes, catching onto your eyelashes and making it hard for you to see. You didn’t bother to stand back up, the asphalt beneath your knees digging into it harshly, no doubt going to leave a few minor cuts. The amount of questions you had were innumerable, each one crashing into the other until your head was full of incomprehensible nonsense that made it spin. 

It felt too normal for him to have been gone. The rest of the town functioned as normal and yet it felt as if your entire world had just been flipped upside down.

When Sakura and Chenle sat you down and asked you about what had happened when they found you sitting all alone in the park after skipping school a few days later, you left out the parts describing how you desperately tried ringing the bell a few more times afterwards. You didn’t tell them about how you had so hoped that it was an elaborate prank, nor did you go into detail about how many times you had called him, hoping and praying for him to pick up. 

The days melted into weeks without Donghyuck. 

You hated how it felt as if he was everywhere, having tainted all your favourite places and being the majority of your most beloved memories. You half expected him to walk out from around a corner and surprise you, taking you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

But hope is a foolish sentiment, especially hope fueled by naive teenage fallacies. The rose tinted glasses that had been worn by you for the months you had been with Donghyuck seemed to fade in their vitality, sucking out all the colour from your life until it felt as if you were left with a dull combination of greys and blue hues to paint the rest of your life with. You were missing the components that gave it warmth.

For you, Donghyuck was the sun, enigmatic, alluring and all too elusive. He was everything you could ever ask to have and yet just outside your reach, your fingertips barely brushing against it before it disappeared again. You quickly learned that you were the moon, waiting amidst the stars and hoping for those moments when both the sun and moon were painted across the same canvas of sky. 

That very sky had fractured into a kaleidoscope of colours when he left, leaving you to pick up the shards of your broken heart.

xiii] now.

You stood in the doorway of what used to be Yeonmi’s room, comparing it to how you remembered it looking before. The only thing left was the bedframe and an old cupboard, the rest of the room was bare.

She had moved out a couple days after the incident, leaving you alone in the apartment. You would have to look for another roommate or simply cover her part of the rent yourself considering you could afford to now with your promotion. Still, the silence was overwhelming, reminding you constantly of how easily you had ruined a friendship.

It seemed to be one of the core themes of your life- to experience debilitating loss over and over without having any time to prepare for the same.

The doorbell rang. 

Ungluing yourself from her former doorframe, you dragged yourself to the door and opened it, your eyes widening in question when it fell upon the person who stood there.

“Y/n."

Donghyuck stared back at you with those captivating eyes of his, pulling you into a trance of sorts instantaneously.  You forced yourself to snap out of it.

“What are you doing here?”

He combed his fingers through his hair, evidently agitated. “I didn’t know what else to do. You won’t answer my calls and I need to talk to you, even if you don’t want to.” 

You were so tired, the events that had transpired over the past few weeks crushing you beneath the weight of it all. Looking at him now, all you could do was weakly shake your head, a frantic sort of fear consuming you whole. 

“No,” you said, taking a step back. “I don’t not want to talk to you, I can’t.”

“Why?”

The question made you freeze in place, your feet rooted to the flooring of your apartment. Why? After everything that had transpired, it was for some reason much too hard for you to answer although the answer was at the forefront of your thoughts and on the tip of your tongue. Truthfully, you were afraid to sound it out, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convey it correctly.

When he left you eight years ago, you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him. He had taken away that possibility for you without ever considering if you’d want it, and gradually you grew used to silently harbouring ache that bloomed in your ribcage. 

It occurred to you then that the same was the reason he wanted to talk. Donghyuck had forced himself to cut you off in every way after he moved, following his own teenage justifications that told him it was for the best. Now, older and wiser, he knew not to repeat the misdeeds of his youth, but the very opposite notion had been instilled in you.

“Donghyuck,” you whispered his name, giving him a knowing look, one that was filled with so much sadness and despair that he could barely recognise you. Where was the ever-cheery girl he had fallen for?

Was he the cause for her disappearance?

If so, he promised himself he’d be the one to bring her back too. “Be with me.”

You gasped softly at his proposition, shaking your head furiously, “Are you insane?”

He simply nodded, taking a step closer towards you. “Yes. About you, I’ve always been insane about you.” Conviction hung onto every word, and perhaps if you were younger you would have swooned and run straight back into his arms. 

You missed your naivety, for life would have been so much easier with it. It was a boon, but now you were wary for the sake of your fragile heart. You could feel your teenage wistfulness rise to the surface as if it was trying to break out of the cage you had locked it in, doing its best to claw its way out and hand the rest of the pieces of your heart over to the man who had the missing bit you had been searching for all these years without him. 

But you knew better.

Instead, you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make him go away. “No, no, no.” It seemed to be the only word your tongue could form right then and so you repeated it over and over, clinging onto what it meant as if you were trying to convince yourself that you truly meant it. “I can’t be with you.”

“Yes, you can. You know you can.” His own desperation began to shine through, exposing his own years of heartache. He had waited so long for a moment like this. Every goddamn day since the day he had left you, he had regretted it, heartache permanently etched into his bones.

You snapped your eyes open, disbelief overtaking. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Be with me.”

“We just hurt Yeonmi,” you said, your words getting caught in your throat. Then, once again, your chagrin towards him glared up as you glared. “And that was because she happened to walk in on us talking. What if she had seen us kiss? Tell me, would we even be having this conversation if she hadn’t found us?”

“I…” He frowned and you scoffed. 

“Would you have ever broken it off with her?” Or would I have had to deal with our intertwined web of lies all by myself? The bitter thought lingered.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. “If you wanted that, I would have done it.”

“Of course I wanted it!” You blurted out, your fingers curling into the palm of your hand into a fist. “But I couldn’t want it, because she was my friend, Donghyuck. Even if you had broken it off, I still couldn’t do a damn thing.” 

He swallowed thickly, “I know, its fucked up, but I–”

“Yeah, fucked up. Too fucked up for me to even think about being with you.”

“But you have, haven’t you?” The question threw you off, and as if he had magically read your mind, he clarified, “You have thought about it.”

You froze, and your silence betrayed you immensely. There wasn’t a single lie you could have uttered in response that would have been convincing enough, not even to yourself. 

“I can do it this time,” he said so earnestly that it broke your heart all over again, his coffee-coloured eyes pleading with you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you again Y/n, I’m not a kid anymore. I can be here for you.” Promises fell from his mouth, sweet pledges and assurances that felt like balm to your wounded soul. 

But how were you supposed to trust the very person that had given you trust issues? 

How were you supposed to put those trust issues to the side and take him back with open arms without bruising your dignity any further? How were you to do it without falling apart?

Melancholy was a funny thing to have taken over you right then, self pity flooding your system, as well as pity for him. For so long, you had blamed him, but now that you took a step back and viewed your situation, you realised that you would have to do the very same thing he did so long ago.

The cyclical nature of life was pitilessly cruel, ravaging everything in its path no matter the case. It had brought you back to all you had ever known and wanted, all the while forcing you to let go, pulling the rug from under your feet without giving you the chance to find your footing. It had made him leave you and come back, only to have you walk away because of how wrong things were. 

Love found in dark, twisted places was never love that was meant to be nurtured. Love emerging from lies and deceit, situations that were impossible- it was love that would forever have to be left behind, no matter how pure it might have once been.

“I can’t love you.” 

“Y/n please-” 

“I’ve already hurt her, and if I love you again I’m going to hurt myself as well because I–I’m always the one that's left to sit and think about you. And it fucking hurts Donghyuck, it hurts.” You couldn’t believe him when he said he’d stay, because he had told you the very same thing all those years ago. You couldn’t be with him without guilt haunting your every move when you had so severely hurt Yeonmi due to your own agony.

You didn’t even realise you had started crying, tears cascading down your face. It was all so unfair, how something that had always been advertised as being simple had been anything but for you. Love had never once ended well for you, constantly picking you up and throwing you back down subsequently without giving you a moment to breathe.

Love was supposed to be the most beautiful thing in the entire world, so why was it so goddamn ugly? 

It crushed him to see you like this, so openly broken and yet guarded at the same time, your wall built up so high that he wasn’t sure he could ever break it back down again. He hated how it was him who always brought you to this point, and he tried to reach out to you to wipe away your tears, but you only flinched away from his touch. 

How the hell had you ended up like this? 

“Then tell me you don’t feel it.” He had to know. He needed to hear it from you.

Your lower lip quivered. “Feel what?”

God, you felt so much. Just looking at him was enough to stir up a surfeit of emotions that you hadn't the faintest clue how to handle, but one in particular overpowered the others, an ache emanating from your rib cage that was so potent, it exhausted you.

“Feel what you did when we were sixteen. Say it.”

Sixteen. You had felt so loved by another that barely understood the concept of it himself at the time, its meaning so completely untainted by the passage of time and complications that came. That innocence wasn’t to be found within you, but the remnants of it had grown and interwoven itself with what only he could bring out of you.

“I–”

“I’ll say it then, because goddamnit Y/n I love you.” The look on Donghyuck’s face ripped right through you. “I’ve always loved you, from the moment I saw you when we were teenagers. You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with and I know you love me too.”

It fucking hurt. You couldn’t understand how the only person in the world who understood you so completely and saw right through everything you were was the one person you couldn’t let yourself be with. It was Donghyuck who used to notice even a slight switch in your mood when you were upset and it was him who would cheer you up the best he could. It was him who used to let you ramble on into the late of night and text you into the wee hours of the morning and him who now naturally gravitated towards you, just as you did to him. It was his jacket that you still had buried somewhere in your closet from all those years ago, with you unable to let go of it no matter how hard you tried. 

Even now when you had only reunited for a bitterly short period of time, he was still the one who intrinsically knew every part of you. He knew you loved him still.

You inhaled sharply, noticing the red tint to the white of his eyes, realising that he too was struggling to keep himself together right then. Shaking your head slowly, you moved closer towards his figure, touching his face gently and cupping it between your palms, searching his eyes intently.

“I love you.”

He shut his eyes the moment you said it, tears slipping down and catching on your fingertips as you brushed them away. 

“But even you know we can’t be together.”

The world had ripped the two of you away from each other once, and you had to trust that there was a reason for it. You knew you couldn’t let yourself go back because it was simply not meant to be with the circumstances and cards life had dealt you.

You loved Donghyuck- fuck, you loved him more than you thought was possible, and it still wasn’t enough. Neither of you could communicate through anything and shit was a hell of a lot more complicated than it was when you were just teenagers. He was right, he wasn’t a kid anymore and neither were you, but too much had happened. The timing was never right for him and you, there was always one thing or the other standing in the way, and the repercussions of everything was too much for you to simply put in the past, making the two of you something that would never work.

“I know.” 

The syllables left his lips so brokenly that you instinctively had the urge to somehow fix him- whatever part of him that was fractured. The front he had been parading around, the false sense of confidence that he had pretended to have about you had finally collapsed, leaving him with a truth he hadn’t come to terms with just yet. The resignation he possessed broke you further, and you pressed your lips to his firmly, trying to mend your fragmented souls.

But it was fruitless. This was a brokenness that you would have to learn to live with until time bandaged your matching wounds, dulling it down into what would one day just be the thought of how terribly it burned. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

Disentangling himself from you, he stepped outside of your apartment and looked at you, imagining you once again the way he had first met you. 

“I love you too.”

It was ironic, how words could mean something entirely different to what they were, how seemingly unrelated sentences were connected, a confession of affection serving the same purpose as a final farewell. Goodbyes of such permanence were merciless things and so when presented with one so absolutely brutal, he couldn’t help but think about the beginning, from the very first hello that passed between him and you. 

I love you. The very last time you’d ever hear it from him.

Those fragile, lovely rose tinted glasses you wore in your youth had snapped a long time ago, and you could see everything for what it was.

And now, he could too.

Time was said to heal all wounds, but only if it was a wound that was ready to be healed.

Everything about Donghyuck and you was unfinished back then, the millions of questions you had haunting your every move ever since it had so abruptly ended. For eight years that wound had been left wide open and time had only assisted in letting it fester, burying its memory deep within your psyche.

But time also brought wisdom in its stride. 

You picked up the mail your new roommate had left on your coffee table, shifting through the pile until you found the envelopes with your name on them. Leaving the rest behind, you made your way to your room, sighing in relief at finally being back in your comfort space.

Sitting atop your bed, you began opening each envelope. A letter from your grandmother who refused to learn how to send you a text, a card from an aunt and a few bills- the usual collection, but one stood out from the rest. The sender's address was entirely unfamiliar to you, and you frowned lightly, carefully tearing open the top and tipping out its contents.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

Right there on your lap lay two tickets to Lee Jieun’s upcoming concert.

As if you were afraid that they would disintegrate, you gently picked them up and inspected them, in utter disbelief at the fact that you were holding them. You had failed to get tickets of your own when you had tried and yet here you were with not one, but two of them in your grasp- and they were the expensive kind, the ones where you had access to go backstage and meet the artists as well. 

For a moment you entertained the possibility of this being a mistake, but then you stopped your train of thought when it slammed head first into the only explanation as to how they had gotten here.

A small, wistful smile crept up upon you as you glanced back at the envelope, noticing a small piece of paper still inside. Taking it out, a breathless chuckle was all you managed after reading what it said.

‘Thought I’d at least keep this promise. – L.D’

Suddenly, you were taken back to that cafe where you had the conversation with Donghyuck. You hadn’t stepped foot in there since the last time you saw him- over two months ago when you knew it was over. 

Sometimes, a story doesn’t have to have an ending to be finished. 

You knew that a part of you would always love Donghyuck due to the ephemeral, innocent nature of the young love you had for him that had been ingrained within you. You had made your peace knowing that the two of you were something written into the world to die out eventually, something that you had to let go of even if it made no sense to you.

It was apparent that this was a love that could never truly be yours, as magnificent as it seemed it had never been yours to begin with in the first place. It was a mishmash of bad timing and rash teenage decisions mixed in with that sort of hopelessness you only found in the blissful oblivion of adolescence. You could wish and want a million things, but at the end of the day, now and then, some things were simply not meant to be.

The love between the two of you was something you were never supposed to claim, time and time again slipping through your fingers, and yet you still grieved for its loss.

But grief could be overcome. You shut your eyes, imagining his cheeky smile and fond eyes, the way he’d look at you while you were talking and all the pretty, empty promises he had made. All the talks of the future that had always been fractured for the two of you and moments of tenderness.

For once, you didn’t just picture him apologising to you over and over again, that ache having finally dulled out.

And when you opened your eyes, you didn’t feel sixteen anymore, instead you felt as if time had passed almost too quickly and reality was finally catching up. You felt older, properly this time, and much more experienced. 

Donghyuck had been your first love at the tender age of sixteen, the cause of your flushed cheeks and racing heart; affectionate, shy smiles and chaste kisses underneath streetlights. He had been the torrential downpour of rain upon a stormy sea, as violent as it was beautiful. All you felt about him had only ever been intense in nature, your youthfulness unable to process them in any other way. Now, looking back, perhaps there were several things you would have done differently, and maybe some you wouldn’t have done at all.

You would remember it all, every single detail of course, but when you thought about Donghyuck, you’d think about all the good. You’d remember laughing out over him singing along to your favourite songs on the radio while aimlessly driving around town, the late night conversations you’d sneak out together to have and the ice cream you’d share on hotter summer days. You’d think about his infectious laugh and the way he always managed to make you happy, the way he’d take care of you when you were sick and kiss your forehead goodbye each and every time. How your hand would perfectly fit in his, fingers intertwined and clasped together tight, how he’d whisper the three words that you so cherished back then at the most unexpected of times. You’d remember the love that was very real and very much lost and its seemingly magical, wild nature that you doubted you’d ever find again. 

You’d remember sixteen.

fin.

[tonicandjins]

all of the girls you loved before

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 3k

GENRE: best friends to lovers, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

WARNINGS: none, just fluff

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this has been in my drafts for way too long. hope you like it! please consider donating/tipping me

all of the girls you loved before is the fourth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

lee naeun, June 2013 - July 2013

Lee Donghyuck’s first love turned out to be the quickest one.

It was a whirlwind romance, like how he would describe it whenever you’d ask him. At thirteen, you and Donghyuck were finally catching up to the rest of your homeroom’s growing pains—both literally and figuratively. Your legs were longer now, albeit Donghyuck’s becoming longer than almost everyone else’s, and you were prettier than most. Letting your bangs grow was a wise decision in the summer, after all. Long gone were your chubby cheeks and you’d learned how to put on some lip tint before jumping on the bus to school. The internet was a better teacher when it comes to styling your hair; you’d never expected hairstyles come with face shapes. Meanwhile, Donghyuck, though his cheeks are still as round as they were in primary school, has learned that the hugs and kisses he used to give everyone in homeroom erupted butterflies all over.

You’d wondered, of course, because among everyone in class, Donghyuck’s probably given you the most hugs and kisses, yet you haven’t quite figured out what they meant when they say he gives people butterflies.

In the same year, Donghyuck learned consent. His mother and father gave him a lecture on why kissing people randomly isn’t ideal at his age and why consent is important. Hence, he’d stopped giving everyone random kisses. The last one he’d kissed you on the cheek was a week before summer started—not that you were keeping a record of all the stolen kisses—right when you were about to jump off the bus you and him were on.

Lee Naeun gave the first consent at thirteen. On the last day of classes.

She was moving to the US the next school year. Donghyuck made you wait by the benches as she packed up her duffel back after soccer practice.

She was taller than everyone else. Sporty and ambitious, Lee Naeun was every boy’s kryptonite. Just like how Lee Donghyuck was every girl’s.

“Can I kiss you?” Donghyuck asked. Naeun blushed like crazy. She was taller than Donghyuck, so when she’d nodded, Donghyuck had to go on his tip toes to reach her lips.

You looked away when Donghyuck got his first real kiss, wondering if the sudden pain in your stomach is the same as the butterflies that people get when Donghyuck kisses them.

kim haerin, August 2016 - January 2018

Kim Haerin was Donghyuck’s girlfriend all throughout junior high school.

Contrary to popular belief, Haerin pursued Donghyuck from the first week of classes. You and Donghyuck had moved to a different school after middle school as the one in your hometown didn’t focus much on arts, leaning towards STEM more, which, if you and Donghyuck were being honest, is the last thing you’d want to do in high school. This also meant that you and Donghyuck were new in town—the new girl and the new guy—and that people your age were particularly curious about you and Donghyuck that school year.

Oddly enough, the first thing they needed to confirm was whether you and him were dating. As soon as it was a clear no, you and Donghyuck received flowers left and right. You wondered whether this is what high school should be like and expected Donghyuck to feel the same, but that school year was different. The people liked the extroverted, friends with everybody Donghyuck, so it was easier for him to adjust to the new place and the new people.

They’d started dating the week after school started. Haerin was a part of a big group, the ones who’d studied in the school’s sister middle school down the road, and she knew everyone. She was nice, or so you’ve heard because you didn’t have that many conversations with her to confirm if she truly is, and she’d say hi to you when you passed by her by the lockers.

Donghyuck tried to take you with him whenever they’d hang out, of course, but his attempts could only do much because you weren’t into the same things as they were. Eventually, you’d found your own group and adjusted to the new school all by yourself. It made you worry about Donghyuck less whenever you’d see him all happy and loud like the person he is. While Donghyuck’s name stuck with Haerin’s all throughout high school, yours remain independent. You’d decided you’d start dating when you’re ready.

The only times you’d see each other, apart from the classes you shared, were weekends with your families. You and him talk, of course. Donghyuck at home is different from Donghyuck at school. But it was different. The memories of you and him going to and from school gradually blurred between all the people you’d met in high school.

Kim Haerin broke up with Donghyuck as soon as you all came back from Christmas break on the last year of junior high. She’d started dating the new guy from the other class who transferred all the way from Germany. She’d given Donghyuck a kiss in the middle of the empty gymnasium and told him she’d loved him but the sparks were gone.

Donghyuck waited with you on the bus stop that same day. To this day, he waits with you.

im jieun, November 2019 – December 2019

Im Jieun was one of a kind, and if you could pick, she was your favorite from Donghyuck’s long list of lovers.

She was a couple of years older than you and Donghyuck. How Donghyuck even got the slimmest chance of dating her, you have no idea. She was a freshman in college. You and Donghyuck met her at one of your seniors’ birthday party; they’d hit it off easily. They had the same personality, almost like twins, and were pretty much the perfect couple in your newly found friend group.

That year was the most life changing for him because Donghyuck lost his virginity with her, and for quite some time, similar to when he’d dated Kim Haerin, he disappeared from your life, and not that you’d cared at much at that time because you were also dating your first boyfriend, Na Jaemin.

Jaemin was everything a first boyfriend should be. Gentle and sweet, determined and future-driven, truly the kind you’d want your parents to meet. He’s been in the same class as you since junior high, but he wasn’t the kind to approach women that easily. He was brought up loyal and kind, and it showed with the way he treated you. He asked you out on a dinner for the first date, at an amusement park for the second, and a picnic by the park for the third—which was the same day he officially asked you as his girlfriend.

When Donghyuck had learned, he was as surprised as a best friend would be.

“You never told me you liked Jaemin,” he commented when you’d told him the news. He was sitting on the swivel gaming chair you and him bought as pairs right beside your bed, where you were still half asleep because he barged in at seven on a Sunday morning. Apparently, he learned it because he saw Jaemin’s Instagram story from your date with him last night.

“Because I didn’t,” you groggily replied. You squinted, trying to make up your mind whether Donghyuck’s a dream or not. “I mean, I like him now. But it didn’t occur to me until he started asking me out for dates.”

Donghyuck leaned his head against your chair, kicking his feet off the floor to spin himself around. “You never even told me you went out on dates.”

You giggled. “Are you sulking now, Donghyuck?”

He sighed. “I tell you all about the girls I date. Even the ones I dream on dating. And this one time you finally decided to start dating, I wasn’t there for you.”

You sat up, watching as your child-like best friend spins himself dizzy on your chair. “Check your phone. Every time Jaemin and I went out, I texted you.”

He sighed again, pressing his foot on your bedroom’s floor, stopping so he could look at you eye to eye. “You didn’t tell me it was a date. You said you were having dinner with him, going to the amusement with him, and hanging out with him at the park.”

“We’re 19,” you pointed out. “What would 19-year olds do alone together?”

Donghyuck tilted his head sideways. “You and I are always alone together.”

“It’s different.” You throw a pillow at Donghyuck, kicking off the blanket from your body and moving to give him some space to lay on. “Come here, you big baby.”

Donghyuck’s mouth formed into a pout but occupied the space on your bed anyway.

“I’m a big girl,” you reminded him as he rested his head on your chest. “I don’t need you to be there for me on my first relationship.”

“Ouch,” he mumbled.

“I will always need you in my life, Donghyuck,” you clarified, knowing well how Donghyuck hates being not needed. “Just, not for this one. I might actually, truly like Jaemin. He’s a good guy.”

Donghyuck hummed. “But I’m still your best friend, right?”

You laughed. Because it’s the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. Donghyuck will always be your best friend. You were certain no relationship would break that. You and him were past being insecure about your friendship.

“Always.”

Donghyuck broke up with Jieun before Christmas break. The reason, you have no idea. But he’d told you it wasn’t as fun as it was in the beginning anymore. And Jieun was in university, after all, and you and him had SATs to pass and college essays to ace before the school year ends.

You and Jaemin took him out for clubbing that night, in hopes of cheering him up. It was a mystery to you why he’d suddenly decided to end it when the relationship seemed like it was smooth-sailing. They’d even talk about Donghyuck going to the same university as Jieun next year. You didn’t recall any fights within the relationship, so you wonder why.

Donghyuck leaves the club without you and Jaemin.

lee naeun (again), February 2020 – April 2020

Donghyuck learned from Lee Jeno that his first love returned from the US to take her bachelor’s degree in Seoul on Valentine’s day. He found her wandering around SNU’s main lobby on the first day of the spring semester. You and Donghyuck were visiting the university after receiving your acceptance letters, looking for an apartment to share. Jaemin was going to another university, so it wasn’t wise for you and him to move in together, hence Donghyuck offered to move in with you to save up some money for rent and other expenses.

Lee Naeun stood there, still taller than Donghyuck, still the first person who ever kissed Donghyuck’s lips, still the first person you’d ever compared yourself to, wondering what she had that you didn’t.

Like the day they kissed in 2013, you looked away when Donghyuck finally reached to where she stood, wondering why, all of a sudden, many years later, the butterflies were flying all over in your stomach once again.

ginny williams, September 2020 – October 2020

Of course, the first woman that Donghyuck officially dated in university is from the UK. Jeno said he only dated her to show everyone he’s immensely improved in English.

The break-up was proof Donghyuck never improved in English. He didn’t even understand why she was breaking up with him.

park yesol, September 2021 – February 2022

You introduced Donghyuck to Park Yesol because it’s what she wanted for her birthday.

She had invited you to her 21st birthday. You and her, if you were being honest, barely know each other. You only shared a class in Literature once, so at first, it was a mystery to you why she suddenly invited you. When she’d asked if you could ask Donghyuck to RSVP with you, you’d known that it’s all she wanted from you.

Eventually, they’d start dating. Donghyuck, at that time, had been single for almost a year. He thought he convinced you that college was finally catching up on him hence he’d put a stop to his “demanding” dating life. However, Donghyuck is your best friend, and you could see right through him. You knew he liked someone he wasn’t willing to share with you, and he was probably working up the courage to ask that person out, which, when you thought about it, was new. Donghyuck was cunning and ambitious and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. He was never one to shy away from the people he liked, so it was a little suspicious that it took him almost a year to start dating again. You did not figure out who he liked, and you knew he’d only started dating Yesol to get you to shut up about it.

You and him knew it wasn’t a serious relationship because Yesol was dating other guys while she’d dated him. Donghyuck told you it felt like the relationship was just for sex because of his oozing sex appeal; you’d thrown a cushion at him when he’d said that.

Meanwhile, you and Jaemin were almost at pointbreak.

You didn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day being uncertain of the relationship would go, so you broke up with him on the first day of February. Jaemin had gotten an internship in Japan a few months ago, and the company that hired him liked him so much that they wanted to keep him while he finishes his degree virtually. You wished you could say the same, that you loved him so much you also wanted to keep him.

It was finally catching up to you and him, the distance. So, it was better you’d break it off before you and him start failing subjects just to keep a relationship steady.

Two and a half years together wasn’t enough. You and Jaemin wanted to spend the rest of your college years, at least, together. But like he said the night you’d ended it: it wasn’t worth it if it was compromising your mental health and studies. You’d cried so much that night, and you wondered if Donghyuck pretended he couldn’t hear you sobbing from the other side of the apartment.

Come Valentine’s Day, Donghyuck asked you to dress up, throwing a paper bag at you.

The place he “luckily scored” a reservation from, on a busy, fully-booked Valentine’s night, was nice. It was romantic and you were flushed and giddy from all the wine and all of the Donghyuck.

“Why are you here with me and not with Yesol?” you’d asked after the waiter filled your glass.

Donghyuck smiled at you. “I broke up with her two weeks ago.” Around the same time you did with Jaemin. “I figured if my best friend would be miserable on Valentine’s day, I should be, too.”

You laughed. “Well, you don’t look too miserable for a newly single man.”

“I’m not,” he confessed. “I’m never miserable when I have you.”

You reached out one hand, palm facing Donghyuck. He intertwined his hand with yours. And it fit perfectly. Just like the dress he got you.

your name, June 2022 – present (or alternately, sometime in 2005 – forever.)

“Lee Naeun, Kim Haerin, Im Jieun, Lee Naeun again, then Park Yesol,” you enumerate. “You were a ladies’ man!”

Donghyuck whines, begging you to stop as you go through his things in his room, particularly the notes and letters from the girls he’d dated.

You and him are moving out. Graduation is just around the corner, and you and Donghyuck decided to move on to a better place. Your boyfriend got a job in one of the biggest companies in his industry, while you’re yet to find yours.

“Don’t forget Ginny Williams,” he teases, throwing you a love letter from the bunch.

“You did not date Ginny Williams, Donghyuck. It was an illusion,” you scoff. “Tell me one conversation you had with her. A real one.”

“I swear to God, she loved me,” he answers. “Stop playing around and help me in here.”

You stand from the carpeted floor and walk towards Donghyuck as he sorts out the things from his study desk. Donghyuck starts with the tower of books and folders, organizing them alphabetically as he carefully places them on the box labeled as books. The other box is labeled as essentials; hence you start throwing his headphones and speakers and its chargers in. While doing so, you get a hold of a small box that contains what you thought were miscellaneous items mixed in with trash, until you realize what’s inside.

There are a few polaroid pictures of you and him from high school, including a picture of you and him on your high school’s graduation day, some receipts from, now you recognize, the places you’d gone to. There’s a receipt from when you and him took the subway to visit a museum at the other side of the country back in 2018, another from Valentines day 2022, when you and him celebrated being newly single, the old ticket from your senior prom when he’d gone with you, and so many more that you could recognize just from its dates.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper as you look at the box of memories. Donghyuck turns, eyes wide when he recognizes the box you’re holding. “Where… where should I put these?”

Donghyuck loved many girls in his life. You can recall their names in the order of when he’d dated them. You had your favorites and the ones you didn’t like that much. Some of your friends wonder if you’ve ever been insecure knowing you weren’t the first kiss or the first person he had sex with and if you were okay with knowing all of that. You weren’t the first and you wish you’d be the last. The only thing you’re certain of, is that he had always loved you, and that alone erases all the other thoughts.

If you could say so, you’re thankful for all of the girls he loved before because they made him the one you’d fallen for. Every dead-end street led him straight to you.

He smiles. “Essentials.”

[hyuckmov]

haechan — if i believe you  

haechan x fem!reader 10.6k, angst & fluff, fake dating to real a/n: thank you all for waiting...this is the longest thing i've ever written :) i really hope that you can enjoy this and the emotions and everything are immersive and not too annoying with the miscommunication/repression i hope. these two are my favorite ever, quiet haechan is my favorite ever and i would love to revisit them maybe in a later fic. anyway, let me know if you like this!! thank you for reading <3 it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this.

it’s a little past midnight, and you don’t know how it happened but the room has been split into happy pairs, all in their own world. movie on the tv forgotten, jaemin has his arm slung around a girl as they whisper to each other on the floor next to the couch, which is taken up by jeno — currently very endearingly laughing at something his girlfriend said. renjun was arguing with his girlfriend, but you know that neither of them truly meant it. you don’t know how it happened, but it seemed that this year, the trip to jaemin’s beach house had turned into a triple date for which you were seriously 7th wheeling. the sight makes your heart hurt a little, because you suddenly feel so crushingly lonely. 

“still here?” 

you almost forgot that haechan was here too. almost. 

sliding in to sit next to you on the kitchen island, he was dressed cozily for bed: his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, smelling slightly of toothpaste and fabric softener. you didn’t actually talk to haechan that much, you were always closer with jaemin in the friend group, but sometimes when eating together he’d catch your eye after a particularly terrible joke, or you would raise your eyebrows at him for something questionable said. you had almost developed an entirely non-verbal form of communication in that way, the two of you sharing your humor, and yet you didn’t actually know a whole lot about each other. a part of you thinks that you know a different haechan from everyone else, because in all the looks you pass each other and the comfortable silence you share, the haechan you know is quiet and sensitive, with a world of kindness in him that made you feel calm. and although you know he can be obnoxious and loud, his laughter echoing down corridors and smile brighter than the sun, you much preferred the haechan you knew. 

you also thought he was the prettiest boy you’d seen in a long while — something casual about the way he would smile, or wink at people, and his habit of poking his tongue in his cheek…but you weren’t going to tell him that. 

“yeah, still here.” you exhale. “when did you make your escape?” 

“about 30 minutes ago.” he smiled fondly at the happy couples in the room. “it’s a bit funny how the room just rearranged itself. i could’ve sworn jaemin was beside me at the dinner table the entire night but somewhere along the way he dematerialised and reappeared next to the sofa.” 

“love can do that to a person.” you rolled your eyes, before pausing to consider that maybe haechan was not quite in the same predicament as you. “hey, speaking of, why didn’t you bring your girlfriend?” 

because you were sure that haechan had a girlfriend, who he would sometimes leave gatherings early to see. you vaguely remembered renjun complaining about how he always had to walk her to class, never showing up to gatherings anymore because of some surprise or another. 

haechan blinks at you. “don’t have one anymore. we broke up quite a few months ago.” at the guilt-striken look on your face, he shakes his head to reassure you. 

“i’m over it,” he says softly. “don’t worry about me, okay?”

you can’t imagine anyone breaking up with haechan — haechan who was so gentle. with his radiant smile and his arms full of flowers whenever he surprised her. haechan who walked her to her classes. 

“i’m sorry to hear that. you deserved better i’m sure.” 

he smiles, and it looks kind of shy. “if you say so.” 

“hey y/n-” you look up at jaemin’s voice, and realize that somehow, the room had emptied out while you were talking to haechan. the only person left was jaemin, who had just finished clearing the bottles and snack wrappers. “we’re going to bed, i’m going to turn out the lights now.” 

“okay, thanks jaem.” 

he made to leave, but stopped abruptly. “ y/n, remember-” jaemin looked at you sternly, one hand on the light switch, one pointed at you. 

“repeat after me: do not trust how you feel about your entire life past 9pm.” a pause, as he glances at the clock on the wall. “or 1am, for that matter.” 

you laugh. “thanks jaem.” 

“repeat it”, he insists. 

“do not trust how i feel about my life past 1am.” 

“good.” jaemin nods in acknowledgement to haechan, flicks the light switch, and just like that, haechan and you sit alone at the kitchen island, illuminated by the moonlight through the glass doors.

suddenly, it is so quiet you feel like you want to sit in the moment forever. 

you look over at him, and haechan raises his eyebrows. it is a look you know well. care to explain?

“sometimes i get really emotional at night”, you explain. “tend to overthink. jaemin knows that because i’m always calling him talking about one thing or the other.” thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you started oversharing, you quickly promise, “but i’m working on it, don’t worry. i won’t do that to you.” 

haechan smiles. “i don’t mind.” he blinks at you and supports his chin with his hands. “we have all night. tell me what’s on your mind right now.” 

“really?” you look skeptical. once again, you and haechan haven’t really talked that much at all. you think this is maybe the longest conversation you’ve had with him, with so many words. 

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. but i’m just saying, i wouldn’t mind.” he smiles, and it warms your heart. 

asking you softly if you would like something to drink, he gets up to make hot chocolate for the two of you. and you’re sitting there, not even trying, but suddenly the moonlight and the soft sounds of haechan padding around the kitchen are setting off a feeling of butterflies making their way to your throat from your stomach. there are shivers running up and down your spine because there is something tender and fragile in this moment that you can’t pinpoint, and a deep feeling begins to crawl its way, spreading through your toes and fingertips. all you know is it’s the feeling you get before you’re about to spill your heart out to someone. 

“haechan?” 

he hums, and the sound could break your heart. 

“do you ever feel lonely sometimes?” 

you hear the smile in his voice without having to turn around to look at him — its the one that starts at the corners and spreads slowly across his face. “so this is what keeps you up at night.” 

“i’m serious, haechan.” running your hands through your hair, you are aware that you are beginning to sound like a rom-com protagonist, but you don’t care. 

“sorry.” you hear the clink of teaspoons against cups as he stirs the hot chocolate. “i mean, i guess i do feel a little lonely sometimes. but it’s not…an all-consuming thought.” a pause. “i guess it is, for you though, isn’t it?” 

you hesitate, before nodding because fuck it, this has been on your mind for way too long and jaemin was rarely helpful. always with his arm slung over another girl, you had a hard time getting jaemin to admit he got lonely sometimes. 

choosing your words carefully, you continue your spiel. “it’s just…it’s insane to me how we are told that life is so romantic, that there are so many wonderful moments in love we can look forward to, but none of that is happening to me and it doesn’t seem like it will be happening any time soon.” 

haechan comes over to you, and passes you a mug of hot chocolate. soothingly, he places a hand on yours where it rests on the counter. “you have to wait y/n. i promise, one day you’ll find someone who loves you, and all the things you’re dreaming about will happen.” 

“you can’t know that for sure,” you press. “i mean, when will someone write a love letter to me? will we kiss in the rain in the park? will they run to see me at a new year’s eve party?” 

“woah woah woah, slow down.” he nudges your mug with his, indicating that you should drink, so you take a sip of chocolate: it’s rich and warm. 

“i’m sorry. it’s just over the years things just keep getting added to this list of love, and now that i look at it it just seems ever the more impossible.” 

“love isn’t defined by actions and experiences,” haechan muses. 

“but i want to experience these things,” you say, feeling a little shy at how raw this conversation was getting.  

haechan smiles at that, at the yearning hidden in your small voice. the two of you sit for a while, nursing your cups of chocolate, lost in your own thoughts. enjoying the warmth of his hand on yours, you look at the glimmering countertop and choose not to say anything so he doesn’t move his hand away. 

and suddenly, out of the blue, haechan asks you a question. 

“just out of curiosity, what are some things on your list?” 

feeling a little embarrassed, because really — sharing your romantic fantasies with someone was beyond intimate, you mumble, “just simple things. going to the aquarium. being a couple at the amusement park, on the ferris wheel. watching fireworks together. cuddling while watching movies in my bedroom.” 

haechan thinks about it for a moment. you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. you sit in silence for so long, you’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about, or tell him it’s not that serious, when he speaks up.

“i’ll do them with you.” 

you almost choke. “i’m sorry?” 

“i’ll help you complete your list.” he looks at you, as if it’s a completely normal thing he’s just said. 

“but…but i mean…” you blink confusedly. you were supposed to do those things with a boyfriend or someone you loved, not just as friends. that would defeat the whole purpose. 

reading your mind, haechan added “it’ll just be like fake dating. i’ll pretend to be your boyfriend so you can experience all that you want to.” 

you’re beginning to see a little bit of the haechan that you don’t usually get to see, as he grins at you and there’s suddenly something sharp to the smile you always found gentle. “the full, personalised, boyfriend experience. just so you can have a go.” 

you laugh, but that’s just a cover for all the questions running through your head. “i-i don’t know,” you stammer. “does it even count if it’s fake?” 

“you’re the one making the rules.” tilting his head to the side, his eyes glimmer almost teasingly. 

“but what are you suggesting? what do you have in mind?” 

“well…” haechan hums as he thinks about it. “i could do everything with you on the list, as your fake boyfriend. in the timeframe that we’re going about carrying out this activity i’ll be fully and completely your boyfriend, yours to hug and kiss and hold hands with, until it’s over. then we can go back to being…” he smiles at you, hesitantly. “friends? does that work?” 

this haechan makes your palms sweaty, and makes your breath catch. this haechan makes you feel jumpy, and nervous, and impulsive. you think you’d do anything he asked in that moment. 

“okay.” you say slowly, and he smiles wide. “wait no.” you hesitate. “wait, fuck it, yes. let’s do it.” 

he laughs. “are you sure?” 

“wait.” his body heat is radiating off his skin as all his attention is focused on you. lips still pressed into a smile, his eyes bright and far too mesmerizing in the dim moonlight. and you can’t help but wonder then, “what if we catch feelings?” 

tilting his head to the side in consideration, he leans in close, one arm reaching out to cage you in. the two of you are nose to nose. you can count his every eyelash, see the constellation of moles scattered across his face and neck. his breath so close to your own, that your eyes can’t help but flutter shut.

“then that’s the best part.” he whispers.

x 

you try not to think about how you felt when haechan leaned in, or the way the circles he traced into the back of your hand were still burning. you couldn’t help looking for the smell of his perfume on your clothes.

you’re way too easy, y/n. this is only the first real conversation you’ve had with him. 

you’re about to turn off the lights and call it a night, hoping to some power above that you’re able to reign in your emotions come morning, when there’s a light tap at your door. 

“y/n? are you there?” 

it’s him. you spend about 5 seconds debating whether or not to pretend you’ve already fallen asleep, but curiosity eventually wins you over. crossing over to the door, you place a hand on the doorknob. 

“haechan?” 

you can hear him shift from behind the door, pushing it so it keeps shut. “y/n, wait, don’t open the door. i just want to tell you something.” 

slowly, you remove your hand from the doorknob and the latch clicks back, shut.

 “okay…” 

he’s breathing softly, and in the quiet you can hear it as if he were in the room with you. “y/n, i’m sorry i sprung the idea on you just now. you can forget i said anything if it made you uncomfortable.” he shifts his weight from foot to foot, nervously. “especially the part about catching feelings.” 

“it’s fine,” you say softly, but there’s a little disappointment stinging at you. does he regret it? 

“but also, if you’d like, i would really love to do all those things with you,” the words come out in a rush, as if he’s trying to be brave. “as fake lovers. without feelings attached.” 

you don’t know what to say, and you can tell that for each second you stay silent, haechan is growing less and less confident behind the door. you run things through in your head quickly. this plan meant that you were able to jump headlong into romantic experiences you’ve dreamt of for what felt like your whole life, without the potential of them being ruined by a bad date, or waiting for years more to find the right one. and most of all, you trusted haechan with this.

haechan is leaning against the opposite wall, looking at the floorboards, but his head shoots up when you open the door. 

taking a deep breath, you look him in the eyes. “let’s do it.” 

“really?” shocked, he reaches for you — maybe to wrap you in his arms for a hug, but drops them, remembering what he had said about making you feel uncomfortable. putting his hands behind his back to resist the urge to swing you into the air, his expression of surprise melts into a huge smile. one that makes you laugh. 

“you’re more excited about this than me,” you tease, and because you just can’t help it, you step forward and give him a quick hug. “thanks for doing this with me.” 

instantly, his arms loop around your waist, squeezing tightly. “thank you for trusting me.” 

the butterflies in your stomach, however, tell you that you were maybe being a bit too trusting. without feelings attached. because would that really be possible with him, who’s currently making your heart race and your breath catch? 

x

it was a week since the beach house. and while the opening of summer felt optimistic and hopeful, now everyone had to wander back to their lives and figure out exactly what they were going to do for the next three months. jeno and renjun had an ongoing bet that jaemin would be fired from his summer job within the week. and jaemin had a bet with you that jeno and renjun wouldn’t find themselves a job that entire summer.

but you knew exactly what you were going to do for the season. and it all started with getting in the passenger seat of haechan’s car as he took you to a waffles place for breakfast. 

“hey.” 

“hi.” he flashes a quick smile at you. “you look nice today.” 

“really?” you adjust the collar of your shirt self-consciously, checking on your hair through the rearview mirror. 

“no, i lied.” he laughs, and the sound is all too fitting for the morning sunshine that flits in through the windows. “yes, i mean it. i like your shirt.”

“my shirt?” 

“just take the compliment.” 

you can’t help a smile of your own. “okay. i will.”

for a while, he drives in silence. it’s a peaceful sense of calm that you think you’ll come to enjoy. there’s a lot of comfort in just sitting next to haechan, watching his hands move on the wheel, his careful eyes scanning the road.

“so, y/n, i took a look at your list,” he starts. 

you had texted him a small list of the things you were thinking about doing. the classic dinner and a movie. going to the amusement park. sharing a kiss while watching fireworks. 

feeling a little shy all of a sudden in his car, you nod. “is it a bit much?”

“not at all,” he says quickly. “i was just wondering how you’ve never done some of those things before. i would’ve thought going to the amusement park was entry level honeymoon phase stuff.” 

you nod approvingly. “it’s sweet that you think so.” 

“didn’t you use to have a boyfriend?” 

“i did,” you muse. “i dated mark a while ago.” 

“our senior?” 

“yeah.” looking out the window at the cars passing by, you think back to your time with mark. “he was always nice to me. but we never really went out and did things. we broke up because i was someone who loved romance, and he wasn’t.” 

 “i see.” haechan hesitates. there was something about the way you talked about mark that unsettled him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “do you think you could get back together with him?” 

“trying to pass me off onto someone else already?” you don’t pick up on the shift in haechan’s tone, and mistake it for genuine curiosity. “i guess i could. maybe after these years apart he wants something romantic too.” 

although the morning was warm, haechan felt a sense of cold sweep through him. he tries to brush it off. “well, thank your lucky stars you have me now” 

looking over at him, his hair falling slightly over his eyes, the troubled crease of his brow, your thoughts of mark immediately clear. “thank you,” you say, a little too emotionally for the early morning and this car ride. 

he looks over at you, and his chest eases up at the warmth in your eyes. “don’t mention it,” he says, and smiling at you is the easiest thing in the world.

x

the line for popcorn at the movies had stopped moving. fidgeting from the cold of the cinema, you wrap your arms around yourself as haechan stands by you, scrolling on his phone for a deal that he saw for a discounted drink combo. one arm slung casually over your shoulders, you lean into his touch just a little. 

today he was helping you out by taking you for a date. specifically, the classic dinner and a movie idea that has been long since rendered obsolete, but you had never had a chance to do. standing in line, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, you recall how he had showed up 5 minutes early outside your apartment, holding a small bouquet of flowers, and doing the thing where he flicked his fingers to splay out the two movie tickets he had ordered early on. the two of you had dinner at a nice italian restaurant, and he had offered to pay but you insisted, since you were technically making him do all of this. 

“are you cold?” drawing you out of your thoughts, you turn to see haechan, concern causing his eyebrows to furrow and his heart-shaped lips to form a slight pout. “why didn’t you bring a jacket? you knew we were going to watch a movie.” 

the line moves forward by a fraction of an inch, and you take a step forward, haechan now standing slightly behind you. “i completely forgot,” you whined. “i just haven’t watched a movie at the cinema in a while.” 

haechan bites back a smile, and slots his phone into his back pocket. the arm that is slung over your shoulder drops to your waist, while his other comes to circle around you from behind, and before you know it he’s pressed up against your back. you can feel the heat of his skin even with the thick hoodie he’s wearing over. dropping his head onto your shoulder, you feel him smile against your neck. “there,” he whispers. “now you won’t be cold anymore.” 

trying to steady your nerves, you stare resolutely ahead. “couldn’t have just given me your jacket like a normal person?” 

he shakes his head cutely, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “nope.” 

you make sure your voice stays resolutely calm. “then what will we do during the movie? you’ll be sitting next to me.” 

the line moves forward and haechan straightens, but his arms never leave your side. “guess you’ll have to hold on tight.”

and so you do. he ends up draping the hoodie over you during the movie, and he clings onto your arm, head resting on your shoulder. you hold on after the movie when he drops you off at home, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself getting out of his car.

you hold on when he takes you for the next date at the amusement park; and when he tilts your chin upwards to press a kiss at the corner of your lips, your top-of-the-ferris-wheel moment,  you squeeze his hands in yours and move so your lips slot against his. you tell him with your smile that it’s alright. 

you hold on to him through your dates to the local aquarium, and to the beach. you let him pull you close as he drags you around the mall window-shopping, and as he guides you through clubs and restaurants. 

and if some part of you gets scared that it might be getting too real, if some part of you feels a little hurt whenever he brings up the list or when he removes your hand from his, you ignore it as best you can. 

x

“thanks for inviting me to this event,” you whisper, as you step into the doorway of the mansion, which really looks like a castle from the level of grandeur that meets your eyes. a man steps forward to take your coat, and you feel giddy. 

“nah, sorry for stealing you away on some random summer night.” haechan smiles, and you feel a tug in your heart. in his suit, he looks like he belongs here with all this finery, the slopes of his shoulders and the slight cinch of the waist looking elegant under the chandeliers, the rings scattered on his hands catching the light in pretty ways. “besides, it’s all part of the experience, isn’t it?” 

right. kissing and fireworks. trying to disguise the squeezing feeling in your chest, you smile back. “why do you keep bringing that up?” 

“do you not want me to?” there’s something careful about the way he looks at you. 

“i don’t.” you say, quietly. 

“then i won’t.” he extends an arm for you to take. “tonight you’ll just be my date.” and with your heart thundering up your throat, he steers you into the warmth of the room.

you spend most of the night in the same giddy spiral of emotions, as he twirls you on the dance floor expertly, and winces dramatically when you step on his toes. your hands never leave each others’ grasps, as you stand around tables eating finger-food and drinking champagne. as the party went on, he introduced you through holding up your clasped palms to each of his parent’s friends, earning a lot of cooing and fussing about. 

“haechan, how well you’ve grown up!” 

“is this your girlfriend? haechan is so lucky to be with such a beautiful girl like you.” 

“haechan! come say hello to the kids, they miss you!” 

“this won’t take long,” he mumbles sadly to you, as an aunt of his insists he meet his cousins upstairs. “i’ll meet you at the bar, okay?” 

“okay,” you smile, inwardly dying at the idea of haechan interacting with kids. as if he couldn’t get infinitely cuter. “have fun!” 

“don’t let someone steal my date away,” he warns, as he’s pulled away. “i mean it – you’re mine tonight.” 

you’re mine. you feel like you’re floating on a cloud as you make your way to the bar, you’re sure you’re at least swaying on your feet. 

“woah.” a hand reaches out to steady you, helping you settle into a seat. “too much champagne?” 

you gape at the man who’s sitting next to you now. “mark?” 

fidgeting with the collar of his suit and looking very uncomfortable, he nods in greeting. “didn’t know you were coming to this thing.” 

you look at him. he had gotten a haircut recently. but besides that in terms of appearance, he looked just as he did when the two of you were together, except for the fact that something about his demeanor was off. he looked tired, and there was something weary about his posture that hadn’t been there before. 

“i was invited,” you tell him. “how are you here?” 

“one of the ladies there is my aunt.” he pauses. “you’ve never met her. are you enjoying yourself?”

you think back to haechan’s smile as he sways underneath the lights, holding your hips. before you know it, you’re smiling too. “it’s a nice night. this place is really beautiful.” 

mark studies you for a moment.  “how have you been?” 

“i’ve been alright.” you figure since there aren’t any hard feelings, you don’t have to make anything up as you would for an ex you were bitter over. mark was still a nice person, and he had been good to you in the right ways. 

“it’s summer, so i’ve been going out more i guess. how about you?”

“i’ve been alright.” he downs his glass of white wine and signals for another one in a fluid motion, and you raise your eyebrows. shaking his head, he changes his answer. 

“okay, things could be better.” 

“why?” 

“just been feeling a little lonely.” 

you are so taken aback, that you let out a laugh. he looks at you, affronted, and somehow the furrow of his eyebrows makes you laugh even harder. 

“i’m sorry,” you calm yourself down. “i wasn’t laughing at you, not really. it’s just…” you take a sip of your own drink. “i was in the exact same situation say a few months ago.” at his bewildered expression, you gesture. “please continue, though.”

mark shrugs and goes along with it. “i guess i was just realizing that i wasn’t as happy as i could be. there were times where i would be – i don’t know, having dinner, and i’d just think ‘damn. really wish i had someone with me right now.’ you know?” 

“i do know.” you nod. “it’s crazy we’re experiencing the same thing, after, you know, so many years.” 

“yeah.” he looks at you carefully. “crazy.” 

“hey baby.” 

a hand slides possessively around your waist, and you jump. the next thing you know, a pair of lips are kissing their way down your neck, as another hand snakes its way around you until you are fully in their embrace. craning your head up, you already know who you’re going to see.

“hi haechan,” you say breathlessly. 

“sorry for leaving you for so long,” he murmurs, intermittently, as he continues to plant wet kisses on your neck. “the kids were going crazy.” 

feeling like you were about to burn up into a crumble of ashes, you splutter out, “we have company.” 

pulling away from you, haechan turns and stares at mark, coldly. “sorry, i didn’t notice.” his hand still draped over you, you can almost hear the forced normalcy in his voice when he asks, “and you are…?” 

“mark,” mark supplies, awkwardly fidgeting with the coaster under his glass. 

looking up at him, you see a flash of something race through haechan’s eyes, as he tightens his hold on you. “mark. well, hello, and goodbye.” 

he pulls you to your feet, and you set down your drink hurriedly and latch onto his arm. “say goodbye to mark, sweetheart.” 

“bye mark. things will get better, i’m sure of it,” you say, still left breathless by the turn of events. 

raising his eyebrows, he turns back to the bar. “see you around y/n.” 

“i don’t think so,” haechan chirps brightly, before tugging you away and past the throes of people, down a narrow hallway that was deserted. 

“haechan, what are you doing?” 

even in the dim lit of the hall, you can see his glower. “what were you talking to mark about?” 

“i don’t know…” you shake your head, still a bit lost. “just about life, i guess.” 

“did he ask to get back together with you?” he blurts out, suddenly. 

“what? no!” you splutter. 

“i heard him say he was lonely. who the fuck says that to their ex unless they want to get back together?” 

you take the hard look in his eyes. hesitantly, you call out. “haechan?” 

he huffs. 

“he didn’t want to get back together, i promise.” he looks at you, warily. “and even if he did, i wouldn’t want to get back together with him.” 

it is almost laughable how quickly his expression clears. 

“you wouldn’t?” 

“i wouldn’t,” you confirm. “i told you, i’m completely over it.” 

“okay,” he sighs, in something that sounds like relief. and before you could even register it, he pulls you into a hug, crushing you against him. “sorry, i guess i got nervous.” 

“that’s alright,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him firmly, feeling his heartbeat against your ears, and you smile when you realise it’s racing. 

“hey it’s almost midnight,” he dips down to whisper into your hear. “do you want to go to the balcony to watch the fireworks?” as you nod, he leads you gently away from the corridor and through a set of glass doors, stepping out onto a beautiful balcony. the night air smells like honey and roses, and the sky is clear and bright with moonlight.  

you feel a tug at your fingertips, and you look to your side to find him smiling as he looks up. 

“what are you smiling about?” 

he hums. “i’m smiling about the fact that my date is the prettiest girl at the party.” 

you pretend to wrinkle your nose, and use your free hand to hit him on the shoulder. “corny.” 

“you love it.” 

and because it’s been weeks, and haechan is slowly making a home in your heart, you decide you need to at least start acknowledging the honest truth of the matter, so you don’t say anything. 

as the night sky fills with fireworks and the people inside the party cheer, he turns to hold your face in his hands, the tenderness and warmth in his eyes unparalleled by the lights in the sky. 

you tilt your face up to kiss him, and as his arms fall to your waist, with a jolt you remember his voice at the bar. hey baby. the term of endearment swirls in your chest, and makes you drape your arms around his shoulders and pull him just a little closer. the two of you don’t break apart for what feels like hours, as you lose yourself in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses, and the slight tremble of his fingertips on your cheeks. it feels and tastes as real as you have ever known. 

x

except it’s not real. and you can’t ignore it. so you avoid it. 

keeping busy and finally diving into all the things you wanted to do for the summer was your only way of telling haechan you couldn’t make it for the next ‘date’, or the next. you can tell he’s a little confused, but since the whole thing was your idea, he’s trying his best to respect whatever pace you’re deciding to go with. you push it all away, and you try to live life without thinking of him and his hands, the way he closes his eyes in bliss when the sunlight makes his skin glow, the way his hair looks after he tugs his hoodie off, and the feel of his lips when he presses his face into the crook of your neck when he thinks you’re not paying attention. 

it’s late. you think you’ve definitely just had the longest day you’ve had all summer, running errands all around the city. all you wanted to do was lie in bed and put on a show that you could fall asleep to. lazily changing into your favorite pajamas, you set up your laptop on your bed, and you’re just about to press play when your phone screen lit up the dark room. 

jaem: wru

one of jaemin’s summer house parties must’ve been today. you were so tired that you forgot. 

y/n: too tired :( i don’t think i’ll go sorry

jaem: haechan needs you

you’re sure your heart actually stops beating for a second. haechan needs you. and just like that, your imagination kicks into overdrive, wondering what he could possibly need you for. 

holding your breath, you watch the three dots on your screen indicating jaemin typing for what seems like ages before your phone buzzes again. 

jaem: super hammered needs u to drive him home lol sry my bad that sounded weird

you let out a sigh of relief, but you can’t shake the adrenaline that rushed into you when you first saw the message.

y/n: can’t you let him crash at your place 

jaem: he won’t stop ASKING for u it’s driving everyone crazy 

a voice message comes through. he plays it, and it’s someone breathing really heavily. you’re beginning to wonder if jaemin sent this on accident, when haechan’s voice, low and husky from the alcohol, murmurs through the phone. 

“y/n can you hear me? i wanna….wanna see you… please…i’ll do anything…” 

“YOU’RE NOT BEING KIDNAPPED,” jaemin’s voice rings out, his words a little slurred but doing nothing to conceal the impatience in his tone. “GET A GRIP MAN.” 

“PLEAAAAASE”, he raises his voice in an impressive whine, and you wince in second-hand embarrassment because you’re sure the entire living room must have heard that. “I MISS YOU.” 

the voice message ends.

jaem: what a loser but yeah you get the gist of it

y/n: okay i’m on the way. can you get him on the phone? 

jaem: do it yourself

x

on the drive there, you do call haechan. 

he picks up halfway through the first ring of the phone. “y/n?”

“hi haechan. i’m on the way.” 

“don’t lie to me,” he mumbles. “honk your car horn.” 

“i’m not going to do that!,” you hiss, as if he were right here with you. “there are cars around.” 

“liar,” he breathes. there’s a pause, and when you next speak you’re startled to hear his voice wobble. “liar. you’re not coming to get m-” 

you slam your palm into your car horn, feeling your cheeks burn. 

on the other end, he sniffles, and you presume he’s nodding at you. “okay. stay safe.” 

“i will.” you hesitate. “is everything okay? did something happen at the party? are you hurt?”

he sighs over the phone. “everything is not okay,” he sniffles again, “because you’re not here.” 

you swallow hard. you want to take a hand off the wheel and slap yourself, because you need to remember that he’s not himself right now, and he might regret this all in the morning. you calm yourself down before responding as lightly as you can. “haechan i’ll be there any minute now, okay? but you have to tell me if something happened and if you want to talk about it.” 

he breathes heavily into the receiver. eventually, he mumbles out, “nothing happened.” shuffling, a pause, and then… “just miss you that’s all. i want to do more…more experience-y stuff with you.” more to himself than to you, he rambles on. “we’re falling behind you know. how are we going to finish this by the end of summer?” 

a shot of pain twists at your guts, and you feel nauseous. so he really just wants to get all of this over and done with. you want to stop the car so you can throw up. you want to turn it back around. you’re suddenly regretting dropping everything just because he wanted to see you, because if this was why… 

you keep driving on autopilot. the call has gone silent, but you can hear haechan breathing on the other end, and it’s driving you mad. you have no right to yell at him, but you almost do. 

when you pull up at jaemin’s driveway, you clear your throat. your voice controlled, you say, “i’m here now. you want me to come in and get you?” 

“okay. i’m in the 1st floor bathroom.” 

x

the front door swings open, and you’re met with jaemin. at first, you think he’s going to tell you off for taking so long, but something in your face causes the words to die in his throat. 

“y/n?” he asks. “are you okay?” 

and before you know it, you’re wrapped in his arms in a hug and you’re bawling like you hadn’t for months. the built up pressure of avoiding haechan, of having to get into character as his girlfriend and having to get out of character just as often, and all your confusion at your feelings leave you sobbing and you just can’t stop. jaemin’s running his hands down your back and making soft, soothing noises. 

you realise that you just really, really, missed your best friend. 

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. “i haven’t come round to see you ever since the start of s-summer.” 

“it’s okay,” he shakes his head, and leans back to look at you, wiping tears off your face gently. “we’ve both been busy.” 

but you shake your head. “i really need to talk to you. i need your opinion in my life.” 

he laughs at that. “i never thought i’d hear you say that.” 

you just go back to hugging him as you slowly calm down, and the constricting feeling in your chest eases. but after a moment, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check it you see that haechan has spammed your text messages with a bunch of ‘?????????’ and sad faces. 

jaemin, ever the nosiest person in the room, is looking at your phone with a frown. “you never told me you started dating haechan, by the way.” 

ignoring the twist in your stomach, you shake your head. “that’s because i’m not.” jaemin raises his eyebrows, and you elaborate. “we’re just doing coupley things. for the experience.” 

narrowing his eyes because he knows you way too well, jaemin asks, “was this something you decided in the middle of the night? it’s sounding very classic middle-of-the-night-y/n ….��� but at the look of frustration on your face, he immediately drops it. “okay, okay. not now. i get it.” 

“y/n? are you here?”

you still, as haechan shuffles into view. he squints, until he confirms that it’s you, and suddenly he’s rushing towards you giddily and unsteadily, his socked feet slipping and sliding on the floor of the hallway until hes collapsed in your arms. 

and there it is: his damn face in your neck again.

“wondered where you were, angel” you feel his hot breath against the base of your neck, and shivers shoot down your spine. “can i call you that? is it allowed?” 

exchanging glances with you, seeing how this was slowly making you go insane, jaemin reaches out hesitantly to pry him off of you. “haechan, maybe it’s best if you stay at my place tonight-” 

but haechan is quick to shrug him off, and with an agility that he shouldn’t be capable of in his state he pivots behind you and clings onto your back. his face once again buried in your neck. 

“don’t wanna,” he shakes his head vigorously. “wanna stay with y/n.” 

“y/n doesn’t want to stay with you,” jaemin starts forward again, making eye contact with you as he confirms, “right, y/n?” 

haechan spins you around in his hold, with the most wounded expression you’ve ever seen from him, or anyone for that matter. his eyes filling with tears, his cheeks flushed and his lip wobbling in an alarming way, he chokes out, “you d-don’t want…to s-stay…with me?” 

“i do, i do.” you assure him, trying to soothe him by drawing circles on his back with your thumb as he bites back sobs. over haechan’s back, you can see jaemin sigh defeatedly. “what am i supposed to do, he’s about to cry!” you hiss at him.

“he can cry on cue,” jaemin mouths. 

pause. what?

you look back at haechan’s face, but every expression seems to be genuine: his bottom lip caught between his teeth and the tears shimmering in his lashes, his hands — which he barely seems to be aware of — caressing your sides nervously, as if afraid you were going to disappear into thin air. 

“haechan,” you start. “are you lying to me?” 

x

but that was the wrong thing to say. the better part of the next hour was spent trying to console a weeping and sobbing haechan on his knees, who would not stop clutching your waist and biting jaemin when he tried to pry him off of you. and then it was guiding him to your car, and another round of consoling as you assured him that no, you weren’t going to disappear as you were driving, and no, you could not drive one-handed so you could not hold his hand the entire way, but yes, he could put his hand on your thigh if he promised he wouldn’t do anything else. 

you end up reaching, and then driving away from haechan’s apartment, because he would not leave the car without you and you figured that you might as well get a good night’s sleep at your own home. and somehow, you end up digging out some of mark’s old clothes out from the back of your closet for him to wear. and now, you’re standing between his legs, brushing his teeth for him while he looks at you adoringly. 

he mumbles something intelligible, his mouth full of toothpaste foam, and you shake your head tiredly at him. 

“nuh-uh. rinse your mouth out first.” 

you hold the spare mug up to his mouth and his lips wrap around the rim of it obediently. turning to spit in the sink, he swivels back to face you, his arms never leaving your side. 

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly. 

“it’s okay. i know you’d do the same for me,” you say, patiently, because it’s true. if you were drunk, haechan would definitely drop everything to make sure you were safe. 

that you were sure of, because that was just the kind of person he was. 

“no,” he tugs his bottom lip with his teeth again, looking nervous. “it’s not about that.” his arms remove themself from your waist and he wraps them around himself instead. all of a sudden, you’ve never felt colder. 

“what do you mean?” 

he doesn’t look at you in the eye when he answers. “sorry for bringing up our deal. that’s not why i miss you.” 

you think you could cry. “really?” he nods, but his eyes are still on the floor. “haechan…” you press. “look at me.” 

he looks up. he looks so pretty right there, his heart-shaped lips and moles scattered haphazardly over his cheeks and nose. 

“so why do you miss me?” you ask, hoping against hope. his lips part, and for a split second you think he’s going to lean forward and kiss you. 

but then his lips press together. he shakes his head. and again. and then he slides off the counter, brushes past you and out of the bathroom despite you calling his name. and when you break yourself out of your daze and walk, trembling slightly, to your bedroom, you see him tucked under the covers, fast asleep. 

x

“i still don't’ get this ‘quiet haechan’ thing you keep going on about,” jaemin chews thoughtfully on a forkful of salad. “but okay, i’ll bite.” 

you’re having lunch with jaemin for the first time in weeks. with nothing much going on in his life for the summer, him waving you off when you apologised again about not checking in with him, the two of you breezed past your usual topics and quickly moved on to the elephant in the room: you and your fake relationship with haechan. 

nervously, you pick at your fries. “do you think i should just tell him we can stop now?” 

jaemin shook his head. “that’s not the main problem.” ever the mom best friend, he takes a pause for dramatic effect before leaning in. “the main problem is that your catching feelings policy is completely shit.” 

you glare at him, but don’t manage to keep it up. he’s right. “you think i should ask him about that?” 

“of course.” jaemin shrugs. “but you could also just confess and see what happens.” at your mortified expression, he raises a hand to calm you down. “you never know until you try.” 

unwilling to address the fact that he assumed you were in love with haechan, and the fact that he was probably right, you argue back. “you’re the one who’s friends with the both of us. do you have any idea if he maybe likes me or not?” 

“i’m not telling you,” jaemin says, stubbornly. “you have to make the decision and accept the risks it comes with.” 

you put your head in your hands. “i really hate you sometimes.”

x 

as it turned out, ‘sometimes’ turned out to be occuring quite frequently, because jaemin seemed hell bent on getting you to talk to haechan, even if it was through the most roundabout ways. 

such as inviting the beach-house group of friends over for dinner the next day, just so you had a reason to talk to haechan. 

and that led you to where you were, currently, jaemin putting the cap back on his black marker as the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY” scrawled over your wrist and palm. 

“i’ll remember to ask him, i swear,” you say impatiently, trying to wriggle your arm out of his grasp, but jaemin was a man on a mission. 

“i don’t trust you,” he insists. “this way, even if you don’t bring it up, he’ll read it off your arm, and you will both talk it out.” finishing up with a few exclamation points, he caps his marker triumphantly. 

you’re about to head to the bathroom to wash it off, when haechan shuffles into the living room, and embarrassingly it’s as if your mind is wiped clean. 

between the night he slept over and now, the two of you had only seen each other once. he had called to apologize for bothering you the night of jaemin’s party, and you made plans to have lunch together, not dinner (because night time was always an emotional affair for the two of you, as evidenced in the past few weeks). 

sitting in the sun, staring at him while he talked, the two of you eating in semi-silence, was enough for you to realise that no matter what time of day it was you would always be a little too giddy over him. the two of you, in some sort of mutual agreement, had left it at that — him bidding you goodbye with a pat on the shoulder, of all things. 

and now, standing in front of you, his eyes just as confusing with their tenderness, you think that jaemin may be onto something. 

“so how can i help?” haechan looks around the room, his mind on the dinner. “do we have all the materials? or…” 

“everything’s in the kitchen, haechan,” you nod in the direction of the dining table. “i’ll show you.” 

haechan nods, more to himself than you. then, hesitantly, he starts, “y/n…” 

something had to give. but not now, not as you felt everything in you crashing down, your heart threatening to spill over at the edges just at the sight of him again. 

“we’re good.” you interrupt. “everything’s going to be okay, haechan.” 

he bites his lip. 

“it will be,” you insist. “we’ll talk later, okay?” 

his expression clears a little at that. “okay.” 

x

in the car on the way home, jaemin insisting haechan drive you, it begins to drizzle slightly. after the moment from just now, the two of you had almost been able to go back to normal, working side by side and sitting together during dinner. topics opening up between you, discussing what happened in the days you hadn’t seen each other. things were comfortable, and you almost felt like you could go back to ignoring the aching feeling in your chest. 

it slowly starts to end when the car peels into the street in front of your apartment. the two of you go quiet, and haechan’s body is tense as he looks straight ahead.

you realise you hadn’t even brought up what you had meant to say. 

“do you…maybe…want to come inside?” you suggest. “we could watch a movie?”

“it’s late.” he says, almost automatically. he looks over at you, and you look so hesitant and sad. fuck. something stirs inside his chest, and suddenly he wants to do anything to take that look away from your face. 

“i mean, i could. just for a movie.” 

you smile, and haechan relaxes.

x

cozied up on your bed, haechan in a pair of sweats he had left over some other time, you slump against him as your eyes flicker between watching the movie on your laptop screen, and watching him. something about the way things were going tonight told you this might be the last time you could be with him like this, and you wanted to cherish it while you could. 

the music swells in the random drama film you picked, and you are feeling that feeling again, the one that you get when you’re about to spill your soul out, and even with haechan’s warmth against you — his arm tucked into your waist and your head resting against his chest, the reality that he wasn’t yours was crashing down all the walls in your heart. 

he realises you’re crying before you do, as he registers the jagged breathing from your chest, and the soft sounds you’re making. 

“y/n? what’s wrong?” 

“i-i, i just.” you breathe, and your sobs wreck through your words, each one stabbing painfully at his chest. “i’m just s-so tired of not h-having someone who loves me that much.” 

running a hand up and down your back, haechan makes soft cooing noises as you bury your face in his chest. “okay. so watching this film was a baaaad idea.” 

you’re muffled sobs soak through his hoodie, and you press it closer to your face because it smells safe and it smells like him. your emotions running away from you, you splutter out, “maybe i’ll never find s-someone. maybe i just have to deal w-with it. these experiences are just t-temporary fixes, aren’t they? i’ll never find someone who l-loves me. i mean, right now i am so in love with you and you don’t even seem to c-care —” 

haechan stills. he sits there, motionless, you still quivering in his arms, as his brain kicks into overdrive. 

you’re in love with him? 

incoherent, you’re still talking on and on, and suddenly he knows it isn’t something he should be hearing. 

“shut up.” he says, quietly, but you ignore him and ramble on. “shut up,” he insists. 

“you d-don’t want me,” you sob, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’ll be embarrassed about this later, but for now all you could focus on was the fact that haechan wasn’t reacting because he was probably completely disgusted at the idea of even being with you. “i-i started to ignore you because it was too difficult to be around you, and suddenly you show up drunk and asking for me, and then you just act like nothing happened and i have the feeling that i’ll never see you again-”

“fuck it,” he breathes, and suddenly he’s holding your face in his hands, moving you away from his chest. “shut up, y/n. please.” and then he is kissing you, his mouth moving on yours, begging you to understand. you think he’s drawing the breath straight from your lungs, and you’re sure your lips will bruise, but you kiss him back with even more fervor, settling your weight on his lap as you lean into him, and he groans. 

breaking away from you, breathing heavily, he reaches for your hands and begins to press kisses to your knuckles, trying to ease you. 

“haechan…” you start, because everything is so confusing to you at this moment. “don��t-you don’t mean it-”

“what’s this?” he interrupts, as he flips your palm up, raking the sleeves of your hoodie upwards so the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY!!!!!”, smudged but unmistakable, could be read even in the dim room. 

“oh, y/n…” he whispers, reaching to stroke your cheek. leaning into his palm, completely lost in his touch, you mumble on. 

“jaemin said our catching feelings policy was shit…” you blurt out. “and i agree. i want a new one. i want to be allowed to love you.” 

gently, haechan continues to whisper to you. “you’re the one making the rules.” trembling, his arms wrap around you, and he rocks you in his hold tenderly. “you’ve always been the one making the rules. i would do anything you told me to. i would love you if you asked.” 

you don’t understand any of the words he’s saying. “no,” you raise your voice a little louder, even though he’s still speaking in that low voice. “you don’t want me.” your eyes fill with tears, you can see it now: he’s comforting you, he’s lying to you because you’re crying, and haechan is nothing but good to you, a kindness and gentleness in everything he does that you just know you’ll never feel again. 

“y/n that’s not true,” he shakes his head resolutely. “please believe me.” 

his voice is patient and soothing, and it’s that tone which slowly calms you down. the gentle rhythm of his hands tracing circles on your arms allowing you to breathe easier, and relax a little in his hold to be able to really look at him. and it’s the worry in his eyes, and softness in the way he’s looking at you which makes something click into place in your head. 

and so what if everything in your relationship with him was supposed to be fake — the dates, the moments he’s introduced you as his girlfriend. everything else in between had started to be real for you — the kisses, the time you told him not to mention the deal or the list or the experience at all and so he didn’t, brushing his teeth for him as he sat on the counter, skin brushing against yours.

and so what if it was real for him too — the times where he’s held your hand or pulled you close when you weren’t paying attention, the nights on the drive back when he would look over at you incessantly?

untangling yourself from him, you reach for the notebook and pen you keep on your nightstand.  he doesn’t stop you, tilting his head in confusion. 

“what are you doing?” 

holding it out to him, your heart hammering in your chest, you gesture for him to take it. “write me something i can read when i wake up. it’s so i have…,” you take a breath. “it’s so i have proof that it’s real.”

something stirs in haechan’s chest. taking the pen in his hands, he begins to scrawl on the notebook, looking up at you as he’s writing. 

“if you still feel the same way, call me as soon as possible, okay?” 

“okay,” you promise, breathlessly. 

the yearning in your eyes is driving him crazy. guiltily, he reaches for you again, and slots his lips in yours, holding you tightly against him. as if kissing you was the last thing he would ever get to do. 

you have half a mind to move into his lap, wrap your legs around his waist and keep him with you forever, but already he pries your hands away from him and heads for the door, reluctance making his movements disjointed and shaky. 

“go to sleep, y/n.” he says, gently. “i’ll see you soon.” 

and with that, he’s gone, and you’re left on your bed, the note at your bedside burning a hole into your table. shutting away your laptop, you curl up under the covers, and somewhere in your mind you pray that the light of day doesn’t treat you too harshly.  

x

dear y/n, 

last night you told me that you were in love with me. i don’t know if it was the loneliness, or even if it was too late at night for you to be thinking straight. all i know is that i love you too. i didn’t think you would want me unless we were playing pretend. but now i can’t look at you without realising i am completely fucking in love with you. i’m sorry that you never knew, and that somehow i messed up to the point where you didn’t believe me when i told you. if you wake up tomorrow and you still want me, call me. i will do everything with you again if it means it’ll be real. 

love, haechan

x 

it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this. 

summer was drawing to a close, the optimism at the start and the feeling of endless days under the sun slowly fading to a blistering heat, which then slowly tapered out into a hazy sense of being in limbo. soon the seasons would change, the days get shorter and the nights grow longer, the loneliest parts of the year stretching out before everyone. the sense that this had been another summer of wasted potential, the sense of taking a deep breath before the dive, of holding love close to one’s heart and hoping it’s enough to last through the winter, hanging in the air.

you had walked over to jaemin’s apartment for breakfast with everyone, practicing the entire way. you were going to tell haechan you wanted to talk to him. pull him away from the group, and talk to him in a separate room. the letter from last night, from him, seeming to burn right through your palms, words you wanted to echo right back at him. 

but when you opened the door, you realise he wasn’t there. instead, everyone else sat slumped around the living room, prodding at various snacks and cans, and waving at you lazily as you picked your way through them, looking for the familiar mop of brown hair and eyes you had come to love. 

“jaemin,” you make your way to your friend, who’s crumpled into the couch himself. 

“hey y/n,” he smiles at you easily. “how did it go yesterday?” 

“well it’s still going,” you admit. “where’s haechan?” 

jaemin furrows his brow. “i swear he just arrived. i think he said something about getting us breakfast.” 

your body moves before you can think to, winding through the room and carrying you towards the front door and out into the driveway. and there it is — his car, slowing backing out. and through the window you can see him, looking over his shoulder, the familiar twist of his neck you knew so well. the arm he would throw over the passenger seat. 

you call out to him, and by some miracle he hears you. he stops the car jerkily, and you rush towards him. he had just barely gotten out of the car when you fall into his arms — you think you never want to be separated from him again. 

squeezing you against his chest, he murmurs next to your ear. “you read my message?” you nod. “i meant every word,” he says, kissing the crown of your head. “i know we’ve done this all backwards. really sometimes i just wish i could go back and ask you out like i should have done.” 

“i don’t regret it,” you tell him truthfully. stepping back from his hold, you interlock his hands with yours, relishing the familiar feeling. “i don’t regret any of the things we did.” 

“me neither.” he hesitates. “actually…maybe i regret getting drunk at jaemin’s party.” he shuffles his feet. “i missed you a lot, and i feel like i should have just told you then.” 

“maybe.” pause. “or you should tell me again now, because i don’t think i’ve heard you say it.” and it’s something that’s a little teasing, because at this point you know he loves you just as much as you love him, but haechan takes it so seriously — straightening up, he holds your hands against his chest, looking deep into your eyes. you feel a little out of breath from the way he’s looking at you. 

“i’m really sorry,” he starts. “for everything. i love you so much. everything i ever told you, every time we’ve touched, it was real for me.” 

“and if i believe you?” 

he smiles. and it’s a look you know so well, the familiarity in reading his expressions and talking to him without words hitting you full force. 

“just tell me you love me too,” he says, softly. “not because it’s at night, and you’re feeling lonely, and not while you’re crying. was it real for you too?”

and even though you’re soon interrupted by jaemin, who urges the two of you to go get breakfast together. even though the two of you keep making lists of places you want to go, and things which feel like love to you — haechan presenting you with music to dance in the kitchen to, afternoons spent restaurant hopping and nights spent driving to look at the ocean and sit under the stars. even as winter eventually rolls around, and the two of you bundle yourselves up in the apartment, his cheeks perpetually a shade of red which makes you want to kiss him —

neither of you forget the way it all started. that first time he held your hand in the middle of the kitchen and warmed you all the way through.  because everything was real. and in a way, it always had been.

[thatsatricky1]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 || 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

It was like a punch to the gut. He never thought he’d be able to see you again. Not in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that fate could be so cruel yet so beautiful, a bittersweet scene to behold.

But there you were.

Fate testing his own patience with her very presence. It was a punishment, that was clear. To be able to watch but never touch. To be in her presence but never up close. To faintly smell that floral scent yet not be able to get a proper taste.

Her head was tilted back as if the moon that illuminated against her face was actually the sun that she could soak Victim d into her soft supple skin. Leaning ever so slightly backwards, hands gripping the metal railing tightly with her fisted hands as to not lose balance.

He remembered the day he’d lost her. Due to his own selfish power crazed hunger. How she has tried her best to hold him back from it, but he just couldn’t control the feral rage pitted inside of himself.

Not a day has gone by without the guilt and regret plaguing his mind. No matter how much time passed by he would not forgive himself for the actions he had taken part in and therefore consequences he would have to live with.

In that moment it has been worth it. That taste of pure unfiltered power he had held. Then it all crumbled only one mere second later. Not allowed to enjoy the chaos that had occurred only to instead deal with the nightmare that would follow him instead.

At first he thought his punishment was to live an eternal life without her, to roam the earth alone without her by his side. But then came the night terrors, replaying her last words over and over again.

Had she not been so selfless, her life would have been able to continue existing, yet she offered herself up with no complaints in order to balance the world out and put structure back into it. All because he had wanted too much. His greed has exceeded its limits.

For two decades Donghyuck continued life without her, never aging, never forgetting. The constant reminder of her absence was not just through those wicked nightmares but through the mundane life. No longer filled with her aura, her thoughts, her gestures or her touch.

So it was cruel to see her there sitting on the metal ledge of a bridge swinging her legs back and forth not a worry or negative emotion in the air, eyes closed in content. Yet for twenty years he had roamed without her, only for him to see this sight in front of him.

His eyes burned, desiring just one second to be able to close, yet he did not allow the itching dry ache to disappear in favour of continuing taking in her presence just on the other side of the bridge.

Many words clogged up his head and throat preventing him from calling out to her. His beloved. The one he had foolishly let slip between his fingers in return for glory.

And in that moment it was as if time itself slowed, moving at such a deliberately timed pace. The way her body stayed facing the water's edge and scenery, yet her head turned.

Those sweet eyes that held what he felt as though was the sun itself in them, locked on to his own. She looked exactly like twenty years ago, not having aged just like himself. He thought to himself maybe fate has taken pity on him. Understood that he would never do what he had done in the past ever again and decided to gift him with the only thing he truly wanted, craved, no, the thing that he needed.

However, fate was cruel.

One moment he was soaking up the eyecontact he was receiving from the love of his life and the next he watched her hands raise up towards her face. Motioning with her hands in a silent gesture.

Thought it all clicked too late for him. Her hands had left the railing and he watched her lips form a soft gently smile, her eyes looking back at him with longing mixed with disappointment.

Her body, her presence was with him, and then it was gone. Falling at an inhuman speed downward into the shallow water filled with jagged rocks. Plummeting to her second demise.

A scream rolling through the air filled with agony and torment. His fingers tearing and scraping down his face in order to wake up from the hellish new night terror, only for the pit in his stomach to expand as he realised. His head snapping upwards to look towards the now empty railing.

What a fool for him to think he'd only receive night terors as punishment. His beloved had been real, and he had watched her life disappear once again.

Fate was not done with supplying punishment to him. It would happen every twenty years on the same day, same time.

Donghyuck, punished to witness the one he loved most die over and over again, for it was his own hands that took away her life in the first place. For just a moment of glory, for his greed had become too much for others and his own self.

His chaotic nature had gifted him immortality in that moment of time twenty years ago.

Yet fate punished him swiftly by taking the one thing he loved most. Over and over again.

Y/n who was supposed to finally find peace in her eternal slumber was forced to die repetitively. All for his sake, to remind him of his choices and the consequences that always followed.

Fate was cruel, but it was deserved.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @bubusebu @hanniehq @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun

(If you want to be tagged in my Nct Dream writing comment, inbox or message me)

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget likes, reblogs and comments are always encouraged and help keep writers like myself motivated to continue our stories.

𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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[neowinestainedress]

enough for you | lee haechan

title: enough for you | sequel to traitor

pairing: ex!lee haechan x oc/fem reader (no descriptions, no name, written in third person) | side members: huang renjun, lee jeno

genre: angst, song-fic, friends to lovers to exes, (a bit of) fluff, happy ending | requested and inspired by enough for you by olivia rodrigo

summary: all she ever wanted was to be enough for Haechan, even now that they aren’t together anymore. Until someone opens her eyes and makes her realize that she is already enough the way she is.

warnings: angst (but it's not that bad, it's more focused on the healing process)

words: 5.002k

a/n: i hope you’ll like it! let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or asks ♡

Looking back at what had been between her and Haechan she should’ve known. Should’ve seen some red flags before, instead of being so surprised when everything crumbled apart. 

Sure, it was all there. But she didn’t feel like blaming herself too much when he did nothing but fool her. She had no idea what kind of Haechan she would’ve had in front of her, every day changing into someone she didn’t know. 

But she loved him. Deeply, too much to really hate that push and pull. She loved him too much to see how much all that was getting to her head. 

And even now that Haechan wasn’t hers anymore, now that they broke up, those doubts filled her mind. 

Her confidence had crumbled into pieces, it was worse than when they started dating when he had to whisper sweet words to her hear and tell her how beautiful he found her. 

“Why are you changing so much?” Renjun asked her when he met her in the corridors of their campus. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, fixing her bag full of books on her shoulder, and starting to walk to the library with her friend. 

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You know what I’m talking about.” 

“No, I don’t,” she replied, chuckling. 

“You never wore make-up,” he pointed out. Renjun wanted to add ‘not that style, not the kind of make-up Bora wears,’ but didn’t. She knew it. 

She sighed, pushing the heavy door and waiting for him to walk inside. “Wanted to change,” she shrugged. “New break-up, new me.” 

“Sure,” he huffed, pulling out a chair for her before sitting next to her. “You’re just hurting yourself.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, hiding her face in her bag to look for the books they needed to study. 

“You gave him everything you had to give,” Renjun said. “If he’s dumb and doesn’t see the value in you it’s not your fault.” 

She lifted her face, glaring at him. “I’m doing this for myself.” 

“Yeah, just like you started going to the arcade for you, right?” He asked, placing his elbows on the table, staring at her, making her roll her eyes. “Jeno saw you, you were more concentrated on Bora and Haechan laughing because she got herself killed every two seconds than your own game.” 

She wanted to deny it, but she knew there was no point. She saw Jeno too, they made eye contact and then drifted away, but it was too late. And neither he nor Renjun were dumb to don’t know she didn’t care about video games at all. 

“He never let me play with him,” she confessed. “He always got mad at me because I wasn’t good. And now he’s laughing with her for the same mistakes I made.” 

“And knowing it will make you feel better?” 

She chewed her lower lips, head lowered as she pulled a hangnail on her thumb. “No, but I don’t understand. How can she be so much more exciting than me? What does she have that I don’t?” 

“He’s an asshole, that’s the only answer you need to give yourself,” Renjun insisted. 

“No,” she replied. “You know her better than me, you don’t have to lie. I know she’s more exciting. It took me one night to get she had everything to swipe him off his feet.” 

“Her being interesting doesn’t make you less.” 

She hummed. Of course, Renjun was going to say something like this to her, but she didn’t want his pity. She didn’t even know what she wanted. No, she knew. She wanted Haechan back and that was something she couldn’t have. 

“Let’s study,” she said, opening the first book. “I don’t want to think about him.” 

But she thought about him a lot, more than she should’ve. 

Every time that she was in her kitchen preparing coffee, she couldn’t help but remember their mornings together. 

“I promise coffee is not that bad,” she laughed at Haechan’s disgusted face as he pushed the cup back. 

“That’s like a shot of venom,” he said, trying to clean his tongue and get rid of the strong flavor. 

“It’s an espresso, of course, it’s strong,” she said before turning around and opening the fridge. “Wait, let me make it better.” 

“Yeah, throw it away.”  

She rolled her eyes, sitting next to him and pouring the milk into the small cup. “Drink it now, come on.” 

Haechan lifted his eyes on her, a furrow on his face, and then hesitantly grabbed the cup. “Just because it’s you,” he said before bringing it to his lips, tongue sticking out to try to taste just a bit before drinking it all. 

“So?” She asked, big bright eyes looking at him with hope. 

He sighed. “Hate to prove you right, but it’s good.” 

She clapped, letting out a squeal, “I told you! You never trust me.” 

“You nearly killed me before.” 

“I’d never kill you, I can’t live without you.” 

And it was true. Because now that he was gone it felt like she was carrying around an empty shell of her body. And she hated the way his favorite songs popped in her mind at the most random times. And she could still hear his angelic voice singing over them when he would let her lay her head against his chest and she could feel it vibrate and then drift to sleep into his hold while his voice lulled her. 

She couldn’t move on when he was in every corner of her house. She still had those self-help books she bought just to impress him, to make him think she was smart. Like she had to prove something to him when her history major was going so well, when she always aced everything since she was six. It still wasn’t enough. Somehow Haechan always found a way to don’t make her feel smart enough. 

“It’s not like you’re not smart,” he said, resting on the couch with one leg falling out, dangling back and forth. “You’re too emotional. You let that part of you get the best of you and you end up looking stupid.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with emotions,” she retorted, trying to push away the painful emotion she felt at his words. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You panic over anything. The other day you got mad at me just because I was a bit more annoyed over the phone.” 

“Lately you are always annoyed,” she replied. “And not only over the phone.” 

“I told you, I’m tired,” he cut her off. “Anyway, you should read some self-help books, they might help you.” 

And she did, she listened. Starting from one and then reading so many more just to make him happy. But it wasn’t like they worked. She kept being her paranoic, obsessive little self because Haechan gave her enough reasons to be. No book was going to take away the way he acted and how much he pushed her back. 

“I thought you were smarter than this.” 

The last person she expected to ever talk to her approached her one day, making her turn around with a furrow on her face. 

“Shouldn’t you be at your table with your friends?” She asked when Jeno sat next to her in the university cafeteria, ignoring his words because she couldn’t get what he wanted from her, and she couldn’t care about it either. 

“Don’t want to deal with Bora and Haechan stuffing their tongues in each other mouths,” he said, making her gag just imagining them so close. “You were much less annoying.” 

“Is this a way to slap to my face how much better he’s doing without me?” 

Jeno shrugged, grabbing his chopsticks and starting to eat. “No,” he mumbled after swallowing. “I told you, I don’t get why you’re still obsessing over him.” 

She snorted, rolling her eyes when she got that he had no intention to leave her alone, and started to eat too. “I don’t care about him.” 

Jeno almost choked from laughing at what she said. “Please, be serious,” he said, looking at her up and down. “Look at you, baggy pants, neon tops, sneakers? What happened to your dresses and skirts and pastel colors? From looking like a fairy to looking like a hip-hop dancer.” 

“People can’t change?” She asked, tilting her head to look at him, still trying to understand what he wanted from her and why out of all the people he cared. 

“Sure,” he said, “but it would be less embarrassing if you didn’t try to be her copy.” 

She placed the chopsticks down and turned to him. “Leave.” 

“No,” he retorted, turning to face her. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth none of the hurt you’re putting yourself through.” 

“You are his friend, not mine,” she said, not getting why he was acting like that. Were those words coming from Haechan? Maybe he saw her changes and found her annoying once again but didn’t dare to confront her? 

“I know, and I also told you I can’t stand them.” 

“Sure, it didn’t seem like you couldn’t stand her when he was dating me,” she huffed, going back to her food. 

“I guess he made you feel incredibly insecure, but,” he said, stopping for a moment because he didn’t know how to let her know what he thought without looking weird. “You are interesting. And you’re not annoying or whatever he made you believe,” he confessed. 

She stopped eating again, looking at Jeno with a furrow on her face. “Do you have a fever by chance?” 

“Oh, shut up,” he groaned, slapping her hand away from his forehead. “I’m serious.” 

“How do you know?” They never talked much, well, now that she thought about it, they never went past greetings and other small talks when they ended up being alone during their group hangouts. 

“You don’t want to know,” he said, drifting his gaze from her. 

“Oh, no, I do. You sound like a stalker.” 

“I’m not, you can be sure about that,” he defended himself immediately. 

“Then what it is? I don’t need your sympathy or worse your pity, Jeno. I already have Renjun filling me up with bullshits to make me feel better and trust me, it doesn’t work,” she snapped, raising her voice, making him look around, panicking when people turned around to look at them. 

“I didn’t eat,” she whined, barely grabbing her bag and trying to don’t fall on her steps as she hardly followed him when he grabbed her wrist and dragged her outside.

“We’ll skip the last lessons and I’ll pay for something outside,” he said, starting to walk out of campus, still holding her hand. 

“Jeno, what the hell,” she complained but then gave up. She couldn’t care less about university either, two hours skipped weren’t going to make her fail. 

“I know,” he whispered once they were outside of the garden, walking through Seoul, his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans, his backpack on one shoulder, and his black hair hiding his face. 

“Yeah, how?” She asked, getting inside of his car once they reached it, not even sure why she was following him and maybe ending up getting more hurt than she already was. 

“Is there something of your heart left to break?” He asked, lifting his eyes to meet hers and when she looked behind him, he got that yes, there was something more to break. “Nevermind.” 

“I want to know anyway,” she begged, grabbing his arm without thinking before letting him go, pulling away. 

Jeno sighed, starting the car and driving to a place where they could eat. “Haechan talked a lot about you…” he confessed. “And not always in a positive way.” 

She was expecting to feel pain, to hurt more, but maybe there truly was nothing left of her heart to break. There was nothing left of her that Haechan could break because he had already destroyed everything. Her heart, her confidence, her passions, her intelligence.

“I honestly couldn’t get half of the critiques about you,” he admitted, his gaze was concentrated on the street, but she felt a weird nervousness in his voice, and she couldn’t understand why. He always seemed like the confident type, and he wasn’t her friend, so he had no reason to be afraid of hurting her. But she shrugged it off, she, unfortunately, had other things to worry about, like her ex-boyfriend talking shit behind her back when they were together. “A bit because you seemed the total opposite of what he used to tell and also because I couldn’t find flaws in many of the things he hated about you.” 

“Hated?” She asked, a look of disbelief on her face. Over the past months, she had come to the conclusion he couldn’t stand her anymore, but she never thought Haechan hated her.  

Jeno nodded, not daring to turn around and see her wrecked face. “Maybe your story became too much,” he guessed. He truly couldn’t comprehend how they fell apart. He was there since the start and imagined them to be together for eternity. She had been by Haechan’s side when nobody else was and Jeno couldn’t understand how Haechan could be so stupid to let her go, especially like this. And he couldn’t get an answer from his friend. Not that he asked, it wasn’t his business after all.

“What did he hate about me?” She dared to ask, looking down at her thighs because she felt tears at the corner of her eyes. But they threatened to fall even harder because Jeno was right, she looked pathetic trying to be Bora. She hated those clothes. She wasn’t like her. She wasn’t the kind of girl Haechan wanted and no matter all the clothes she could change, or lipsticks on her face, she was never going to be her. 

“Why would you do this to yourself?” He asked, parking the car before signaling her they had arrived. 

“You started talking to me,” she reminded him, closing the car door behind and following him as they walked toward the place. 

“And not to hurt you,” he said, scratching his neck, and she saw his mouth open again to say something, but no other words came out of his lips. 

“Then why?” 

He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Because I think you’re smarter than this dumb thing of trying to be a copy of her. And because…nothing. We’re here,” he said, turning left and pushing the door open before looking for an empty table. 

“No, finish,” she insisted, sitting in front of him, and now it was harder to escape her interrogating gaze. 

“Because you deserve better than him,” Jeno confessed, cheeks reddening. 

“I will never have him back,” she replied with a bitter chuckle as she felt her heart clench as the realization hit her again. 

“That’s why I wish you stopped acting like this,” he said before handing her the menu. “It’s on me, get whatever you want,” he added. “What?” He asked when a smile curled her lips and she hid her face behind the papers. 

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I thought you hated me and here you are, paying for my lunch, trying to wake me up from my fantasies about my ex.” 

“You thought I hated you?” He asked, raising a brow, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Let’s say you weren’t the most welcoming of his friends,” she explained, smiling at him again before focusing on the menu. 

“Let’s say you’re not good at reading people considering how you let him treat you,” he whispered but she heard anyway.

“You do stupid things when you want to keep somebody by your side,” she replied, but she wasn’t mad, not at Jeno at least, because he wasn’t wrong. She was terrible at reading people, especially when she loved them. 

“Yeah, but now?” 

She hesitated before answering, “I know… but I can’t help but still want to be enough for him. I meant too much for him. I have no idea how I…” she had to stop, feeling her eyes wet again and a gulp form in her throat. “I don’t get how he couldn’t care less about someone that loved him so deeply. I don’t get how after everything that tied us he could forget me that easily.” 

Jeno nodded. “I don’t get it either. And I know you don’t want me to be the one saying those things but as I said before, you don’t deserve all this pain.” 

“I don’t know how to make it go away,” she confessed. “I don’t know how to make him go away.” 

“Or maybe you didn’t even try,” Jeno whispered with a hesitant voice, shily meeting her eyes, and feeling his heart clench seeing that they were off, nothing of her old bright eyes was there anymore.  

“I just… I want myself back but I feel that he’s such a big part of me and I know this is wrong, but he took so much of me, Jeno. I cannot erase so many years of my life in the blink of an eye.” 

And he wanted to tell her that yes, she could, just like he did. He wanted to tell her that the way he moved on so easily should’ve been enough for her to do the same or to at least don’t let him have so much power over her. But when he looked in front of him and saw her shaking as she tried to hold back the tears, he realised that Haechan was right. She was too emotional for this, too emotional for his careless way. She loved too much and Haechan didn’t know how to deal with so much love. Now that she looked at him, apologizing when a tear rolled down her cheek and ranting about how pathetic she looked and how weird this all was, he realized why she and Haechan didn’t last. 

“Hey,” Jeno called her, grabbing her hand that was moving frenetically to fix the bottle with flowers she made fall by mistake, “look at me. It’s alright,” he said, smiling before he wiped her tears away. “Why don’t we eat without thinking about him?” 

She nodded, slumping back in the seat, hating herself a bit more because she wasn’t so sure she could’ve avoided thinking about Haechan. Not now that she knew that he truly started slipping out of her hold much longer than that and only God knew how many other girls made him turn his head because she had never been enough for him. Because she was not enough and too much at the same time and she had no idea how to deal with it. Jeno was wrong when he said that their story became too much. The heavy thing that dragged them to the bottom of the sea was her. She was too much to take and at the first chance Haechan got, he ran away. 

But weirdly enough Jeno was good at keeping her mind off her ex. He listened to her, something nobody did in ages. And he was funny, unlike the times they hung out together and his jokes never hit. Sure, it wasn’t the kind of humor that anybody could get, but right now it was enough to make her crack a laugh and feel her heart less heavy. 

And with time, it turned out that Jeno in general was really good at don’t make her think about Haechan. She had no idea when they started hanging out so much, probably after he had asked for help for a class he was about to fail because he couldn’t even memorize the basis and they spent afternoons in the library studying, occasionally with Renjun’s company, that was finally happy to see that she didn’t look so heartbroken anymore. 

“So, you’re finally stepping out of the house without me dragging you by the hair,” Renjun joked, they were sitting on the sidewalk while they waited for Jeno to bring them their orders from the street food stand in Hongdae. “And most importantly,” he said, looking at her dress and the make-up on her face, “you got back to being yourself.” 

“You were right, it was dumb trying to be like her,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “Also, I look better in pink than in bright colors.” 

Renjun chuckled, and then asked, “And your heart? Got back to beat for someone else?” He pointed his head to Jeno that briefly turned around to smile at them while he waited in line. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, pushing him off. 

“You know what I mean.” 

She rolled her eyes. “He’s just a good friend, like you.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She hummed, biting her nails, before saying, “I’m getting back up on my feet, but I’m still hurt, Injunnie. And…sometimes I still think about you know who.” 

Renjun laughed before pinching her cheek. “Take your time, baby. And, next time, fall for someone that won’t hurt you this bad.” 

“That someone that hurt me that bad is your friend.” 

“And? You have no idea how much I fought with him for the way he treated you.” 

Before she could say anything else, Jeno came back. 

“Teobokki for my favorite girl,” he said, handing her the cup, making her lower her head and mumble a low ‘thanks’ and then he turned to Renjun, “and a tornado potato for you.” 

“Thanks,” Renjun said. “Should we start walking again?” 

The other two hummed and started walking through Hongdae again to enjoy more local singers or dancers covering songs. But she couldn’t help but think about what Renjun had told her. 

She wasn’t feeling anything for Jeno, right? No, of that she was sure, at least, she believed her heart was too wounded and broken to start beating again. And she also knew that when she occasionally crossed Haechan she could feel a weird sensation in her stomach, but she couldn’t tear the butterflies and the venom apart. 

On the other hand, she knew that Jeno made her feel good. But she couldn’t call it love. 

She liked the way he would rest his face on his crossed arms and listen to her talk no sense for hours, his eyes crinkling up every time he laughed or smiled at something she said. 

She liked the way he never made her feel stupid, even when her emotions would take over and tears fell a bit too easily from her eyes. 

She liked the way he listened to her repeat for her history exams and didn’t find it boring even if she knew that it was terribly boring for him and he couldn’t care less about wars, politics, and social dynamics all around the world.

She liked hearing him talk about dance without mocking her when she didn’t understand some specific terms, or when they tried choreographies together and she couldn’t keep up with him. Most of the time it lead to them laughing on the floor like fools while they struggled to breathe from the laughs and the fatigue. And when she laid there, at his side, so close to him feeling light, she could feel her heart beat just a bit faster than usual. And maybe her stomach twisted when he turned around and smiled at her, his shaky hands moving a strand of hair out of her face. 

But it was too soon, it definitely wasn’t love, and she couldn’t jump into another relationship without looking. She couldn’t use him as a replacement, she couldn’t hurt him when she was the first one to know how painful being used and betrayed was, so she left Jeno there, in the back of her heart, under the ‘friend’ label because she knew she wasn’t ready for another heartbreak. 

“So, Jeno’s the lucky one.” 

When she heard those words and that voice she felt her heart drop to the floor, her stomach clenched uncomfortably and she felt struck on the spot. But she still turned around, the lights of the party weren’t enough to don’t make her see Haechan standing there behind her, unfortunately for her with the same handsome face of always. And the music wasn’t loud enough for her to pretend she didn’t hear him. 

“Jealous?” She asked, tilting her head and holding the glass in her fingers tighter. 

“I just think that it’s just a low move to go with one of my closest friends,” he said. 

She laughed, not a chuckle or a smile, a laugh, loud enough to make some others at the party turn around and stare at them before Haechan glared them off. “You talk about what’s a low move or not. You have some gut to come here and teach me a lesson.” 

“You broke up with me,” he replied.

“Of course,” she chuckled, shaking her head, “how long has it been? Two months since we spoke last and you still don’t get it, you still don’t get all the pain you put me through.” 

“I told you, I never cheated,” he said, taking a step forward but she stopped him with a glare.

“Yeah, because cheating is the only painful thing you can do, right? Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? Not even respect. I’m not asking you to love me, I don’t need it anymore. No, worse, I don’t want it anymore. But you could at least stop coming in between my happiness. Why are you mad? Because your best friend can give me all the love you were never able to give me?”

“I loved you and you know it. You can’t delete five years of our story just for someone that arrived in your life in what? Two months?” He told her and when she looked at him with a serious face, eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face, it hit him. That was exactly what he did to her but two weeks after they broke things off. He was getting mad at her for the same thing he did, but he did even worse, he hurt her more than she could ever do now. 

“So, is it clear now? Do you feel at least half of the pain I felt? Do you feel betrayed like I felt?” 

Haechan didn’t answer, he stood there, staring at her while all his mistakes crumbled on his shoulders and pushed him to the ground. He was the reason their story fell apart. He had hurt her. He had betrayed her. And he couldn’t get mad at her for moving on with anybody else, not even if it was Jeno, not even if that meant seeing them together all the time. 

That was her payback, and all of a sudden, he realized he had no more reasons to be mad. And probably, it would’ve been better if he simply avoided approaching her in the first place. But he did that, and they were there now, and he deserved it, he deserved to feel all the humiliation he was feeling right now.  

But she was glad he did. Sure, those past months not talking to him helped her, but this conversation made him realize what he had put her through. And she loved to see that he was finally bleeding too. Sure, revenge wasn’t a virtue, but she couldn’t care. She was tired of his smug smile, of his confidence when he broke her apart. She was tired of seeing him walking around like a God without realizing all the pain he was causing. 

And right now, in front of her, there was a broken-hearted Haechan and she had no idea if he was regretting it because he missed her, because he had realized that Bora couldn’t give him what she gave him, or if simply because he didn’t like losing and his pride now was eating him alive. Knowing him, well, finding out over time who he truly was, she would’ve bet on the latter, but she truly didn’t care. 

Haechan wasn’t her problem anymore. 

She was done with this story, with him, with his lies, and his games. 

And since he seemed to have no intention to talk again, she started walking past him. She had a party to go back to, and an entire night to dance between arms that weren’t his, between the arms of someone that made her feel good and enough. A feeling she had forgotten all these years by his side. 

“And for your information,” she said, turning around again because she needed to put an end to this with a light heart, “between me and Jeno there’s nothing. But who knows, someday I’ll be everything to somebody else. And they’ll think that I’m so exciting. And maybe then, only then, you will be the one who’s crying.” 

Haechan didn’t dare to meet her eyes, the floor wouldn’t have hurt as much as meeting her cold heart would’ve, the floor couldn’t remind him that she wasn’t his anymore and it was all his fault. 

“All I ever wanted was to be enough for you, Haechan,” she said, looking into his eyes when he lifted them, and not feeling pain, not feeling anything anymore. “But thanks to you I found out I was already enough for someone else. And I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t have to hurt myself just to keep them. They don’t leave me all alone crying, wondering what I did wrong.” 

“You were enough for me,” he tried to stop her from leaving him again, grabbing her hand but she swiftly pulled away from his hold, making a crack form in his heart. 

“No,” she replied, a bitter smile painted on her face as she stared into his brown eyes, “I don’t think anything could ever be enough for you.” 

HAPPIER (finale): READ HERE

[liliansun]

NEVER LET ME GO | LDH

pairing | lee haechan x fem reader

synopsis | it’s pretty much a given when it comes to friends of a long time that one will fall for the other, so you’re not surprised by how long you’ve kept it to yourself. unbeknownst to you, you’re not the only one holding things back and once the truth is out there’s no going back.

genre | university au, childhood/best friends -> lovers, fluff, angst

warnings | swearing, haechan is kinda rude, mentions of sex (non-detailed, just briefly brushed over), winter calls jaemin an idiot (playfully)

featuring | nct dream, heeseung from enha, chaewon from lesserafim, winter from aespa, ryujin from itzy

wc | 6.2k

a/n | shoutout to ash for beta-reading this for me and screaming in pms as she did so 🥺❤️ @ethereal-engene

I. WHEN WE WERE YOUNG

Ever since you were a kid, you always looked forward to growing up. Even if it was just a couple years older than the age you were at, you were constantly thinking about what milestone you would accomplish in the following years. You wouldn’t say this all changed when you met Haechan at the ripe age of 9, but he definitely did hinder your outlook on growing up. Haechan was the type of kid to live in the moment, never once taking the day for granted which truly made the phrase ‘opposites attract’ led you two into an unbreakable friendship from that point on.

As you two sit on the set of swings at a park near your neighborhood, you ponder on what will happen to the two of you as you enter high school in the upcoming semester. “You’ve got your thinking face on.” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, feeling more relaxed under his tender gaze. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” He adds on, playfully flicking your forehead. You wince, rubbing it with a slight pout. “I’m just thinking of what’s gonna be of you and I when we get to high school.” You never could hide from Haechan, always being an open book when it came to talking to him. When you look up from the ground, you can see his eyes soften at your worries.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen when we get to high school, but I can promise you that I’m always gonna be by your side.” You knew he was sincere, his words putting your heart at some ease. Unexpectedly, he raises his hand and holds out his pinky, something he’s always done when he makes a promise and keeps it. Smiling, you brought your hand up and interlocked your pinky with his. “Me too hyuck.” You said softly, giving his finger a gentle squeeze.

If someone passed by and saw the two of you, they would’ve assumed you’d been in love and are on your way to a relationship. They wouldn’t entirely be wrong at first glance, because you were on your way to being completely head over heels for your best friend and no one could’ve prepared you for it. When you look back to that pivotal moment in your friendship, you’d say that was the first time you finally got a taste of what loving someone could feel like and if you’re honest, you never wanted it to change.

Not much has changed over the years between you two, you’re still pretty much still stuck to the hip and spend a lot of both down and social time together. Even now that you’re both juniors in college, the two of you have found ways around your schedules for one another. While you sit on his bed, going over some notes for an upcoming test, Haechan lets out a loud sigh while slumping his head toward you. Most people would be concerned, quick to ask what was wrong and offer any help, but you knew him all too well to know this was one of his desperate attempts to get your attention. With another loud sigh, you ignore him as you turn the page in your notebook.

“Are you really ignoring me in such times?” He asks, grabbing his shirt as if he was shocked. You smile to yourself, looking up to meet his eyes and straighten your expression. “Have you ever considered that maybe I actually enjoy silence?” Haechan scoffs, turning more toward you as he sits in the chair at his desk beside the bed. “But I’m hungry, let’s go get something to eat.” You can’t deny how incredibly cute he is when he pouts, but that’s something you’d never say out loud. “I just got here 20 minutes ago and now you’re hungry?” As he pulls your notebook from your grasp, he carefully sets it on his desktop. “What if I pay?” Rolling your eyes, you let out a singular huff as you get off his bed.

Haechan takes this as a win, jumping out of his chair with his wallet in hand. “I’m picking dinner tonight.” You tell him, slipping your shoes on. He nods, grabbing his coat and shoes. “Okay, but nothing crazy expensive, I’m using Renjun’s card.” As the two of you leave his dorm, you decide somewhere on campus would settle for the two of you. “Why are you using Renjun’s card again?” You said, watching as he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his coat. “We made a bet and he lost, but I’d feel kinda bad if I blew his bank account.” You nod, continuing to walk beside him as he greets people that pass.

You’re not bothered that almost everyone on campus knows Haechan, I mean he was pretty well liked. He got along with almost anyone due to his outgoing personality and sunshine-like essence. He was essentially a charming guy who knew his way with words and it definitely worked on the girls who spared him a glance. Now that definitely bothered you, but who were you to be jealous of pretty girls wooing over your best friend? Instances like now really reminded you that you’re just the friend that’s been by his side for so many years and that the girls who call him late at night get to experience what you could only imagine, if you were imagining it.

You had continued walking when Haechan suddenly stopped to talk to what you suppose was one of his flings. She had caught his attention by calling him over and in typical male fashion, he followed the pretty girl with the pretty face. You would’ve waited for him, but who knows how long that would’ve taken if he even would’ve made it back. You entered the dining hall alone, looking straight ahead at the selection of food they have out. “What’s a girl like you doing out alone?” A familiar voice appeared behind you, bringing a small smile to your lips. You grabbed a tray and started to get items to accompany your main dish.

“Oh you know, I’m just enjoying the silence before a hurricane comes through.” You said, watching out of your peripheral view as Jeno cracked a similar smile. “Oh yeah? Where’s he at anyway?” He said, grabbing something for himself as he followed behind you. “Talking to some girl by the lab hall.” You stated, going down to pay for your food. “Figures, I bet he was the one who opted for food too.” He says, paying behind you as you wait for him. You give him a nod, following beside him as you two walk to the table where the rest of your friends were sitting.

“Well well well, look who’s finally alone.” Jaemin announced upon your arrival. “She’s not alone if she’s with Jeno, Nana.” Winter said matter-of-factly. “Lover boy is shooting his shot outside and left this gem by herself.” Jeno sat beside you, clicking his tongue as he talked. “Yeah well, one man’s loss is another man’s treasure and I’d like to be that woman.” Ryujin said, playfully winking at you. You laugh, rolling your eyes as you’re about to dig in. Just when you bring the food to your lips, Haechan brings his hands down to your shoulders with enough force to startle you.

“Why’d you get food without me, I said I was gonna pay!” He says, whining as he looks at your plate. You turn your head, staring at his almost guilty expression. “Hyuck, you were off doing your thing so I came to get food.” He sits on the opposite side of you with a frown, picking some food he knew you only got for him off your tray. “Since some of us are here can we talk about the back to school party this weekend?” Winter announced. Jaemin whipped his head toward her slowly, squinting his eyes. “You do know it’s been a month since school started right?” His lack of ability to pick up the slight sarcastic meaning by the party title earned him a punch to the shoulder by Winter. “Yes you idiot, god why do you even talk.”

Jaemin winces as he rubs his shoulder, mouthing to you with a smile that Winter was apparently in love with him. You giggle, continuing your meal till it was nearly done. When you finally notice that Haechan took the cake you had, you frown. You could’ve easily gotten another one, but the one you had was one of the last few on display. Jeno noticed your sudden sadness and put his cake onto your tray. You flash him a smile, mentally thanking him. The rest of the table watches the exchange happen and even more so how Haechan’s expression changes while watching. As you look up confused as to why everyone was eyeing the three of you, you then turn your head to Haechan who was giving Jeno a hard stare.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, he seems to visibly soften at your touch while shifting his gaze onto you instead. “Okay, now that whatever that was is over, I’m gonna go.” Ryujin says as she gets up from the table. You give her a questioned look as she signals for you to follow her. Winter does the same, stealing your cake off your tray. “My cake!” You say, quickly walking around the table to get your dessert. “Sorry hyuck, I’m stealing your girl!” She says as she and Ryujin giggle while leaving the dining hall. You have to jog to catch up to them, finally getting the cake from Winter. “So are we gonna just ignore that or what?”

“Ignore what?” Ryujin scoffs as Winter looks at you in shock. “C’mon y/n, you can’t tell me that boy isn’t head over heels for you.” You don’t comment, staring down at your cake while following along the girls. “Jeno was just being sweet, don’t read too much into it.” “No girl, not Jeno, Haechan!” Winter says, smiling at you widely. “Even I saw those heart eyes throwing fireballs at Jeno when he gave you his food, man was saying ‘don’t touch my girl’.” You shrug, trying to shake off the sickly sweet feeling you have in your stomach. As much as you’d want Haechan to reciprocate your feelings, you don’t ever see it happening.

“He’s not like that, we’re just friends.” Judging by the way the two of them look at you, you know they don’t buy it. If you’re honest, you don’t either, but purely from a one-sided point of view. Only in your dreams will you ever be more to Haechan and throughout the years you’ve learned to accept that. “Whatever you say girl.” Winter says, interlocking her arm with yours. “Speaking of, when was the last time Haechan ever got jealous, do you know?” Ryujin asks, slinging one arm around your shoulder. You smile to yourself at the thought of the memory in mind. “When we were young.”

II. HEADACHE

The next time you saw Haechan was days later when he showed up at your dorm unannounced. You were sitting in bed, headphones in with your calming playlist on mid volume in attempts to soothe your headache. You took some pain medicine to help aid your throbbing head, but nothing seemed to relieve the misery. Your roommate Chaewon decided to go out to study so that you could lay in the dark till you were feeling better. As she opened the door with all her books and bag in hand, Haechan was the last person she expected to see behind it. “Oh, uh did y/n call you over?”

“No, I came to surprise her.” He said, holding up a bag with some of your favorite snacks. He sensed you weren’t in a good mood through the way you were responding to his texts earlier and he did what he thought would cheer you up and bought you food and a drink. “Take care of her, yeah? Her head is hurting badly.” She said as she walked past him while he entered. He saw you laying in bed with the blanket up to your cheeks, the curtains covering the windows beside your bed. Quietly, he takes his shoes off and sets the bag down by your bed. You had yet to notice his presence while he started taking the snacks out and laying them on your bedside table.

When you turned over, you weren’t entirely surprised to see him beside you. You paused the music, taking a headphone out to hear him humming along to the music that was playing. “What are you doing here hyuck?” You asked as you moved over in your bed to make room for him. He pushed the cover back gently, climbing into your bed and taking the headphone you had offered up. “I noticed you were off in text today so I brought you some stuff to see you smile.” You were truly down so bad, the simplest yet sweetest gesture had you flushed in the cheeks and you couldn’t help it. To hide how hot your face got, you pushed your head against his chest once he got comfortable.

“Just a headache is all.” You mumbled, listening to his heart beat inside his chest. You felt your mind start to relax under his touch, the feeling of him rubbing the back of your hair had you hyper aware of his gentleness. A comfortable silence continued on between the two of you, just the sound of music and soft breathing filled the room. “Are you planning to go to that party Winter mentioned?” You suddenly ask, feeling his chest rise a little more at your question. “Dunno, you going?” You nod, blinking at the fading light peeking through the window by your roommate’s bed. “Maybe I’ll go just to protect you from any wandering eyes.”

You sat up, smiling down at Haechan. “Wandering eyes? What are you now, my father?” You said, laughing a little as he sat up. “I’m serious y/n! Some guys are out to get pretty girls like you who just so happen to be all alone.” You said that so confidently that you couldn’t help, but to laugh. “Why are you laughing, huh?” With one brow raised, he eyed you as you started to calm down. “Nothing, you’re just too funny.” Haechan sat up quickly, switching the way you two were positioned in your bed. He was now hovering above you, hands immediately finding their way to your most ticklish spots. “Oh so I’m funny now huh? Do you find this funny?”

You couldn’t stop laughing as you tried to fight off his devilish hands. After what seemed like nearly 10 minutes of being tickled nonstop, Haechan moved his hands away from your sides to let you catch your breath. Unbeknownst to you, he was watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smiled. Bringing one hand up to your cheek, he pulls a piece of your hair away from your face. You suddenly went stiff, watching his eyes shift from yours down to what you could only imagine was your lips. Your breath seemed to be caught in your throat as you noticed how he didn’t look up nor did he move.

You didn’t know what to do, whether to move in and close the space between you or to make your way from underneath him and pretend this didn’t happen. Your heart was saying one thing, but your mind opted for another. You cleared your throat, bringing Haechan to his senses as he got off from above you and stood beside the bed. His cheeks were a light shade of pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So yeah, uh as I said earlier.” He said, shifting his eyes around the room to ease the awkward tension. “The snacks, yeah..the snacks.” He could feel your gaze on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

A couple minutes pass while silence fills them before either of you speak up. You’re about to try and change the subject when you hear his phone go off. Normally when he was with you, he’d only have select contacts on for notification so you assumed it must’ve been his roommate. Glancing at the caller ID when he pulls it out, you knew whoever it was that she must’ve been important. Something about his expression makes your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. He almost smirks at his phone before realizing where he’s at and what had just happened.

“I think I’m gonna go.” He said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Silently, you nod without meeting his eyes. You could practically feel the tears starting to sting as they welp up, opting to not cry in front of Haechan over something you consider dumb. He can sense the change in atmosphere, your posture and sudden energy makes his heart break, but he’s too scared to comfort you after what happened just moments ago. “I’ll see you at the party y/n.” He said as he left while you looked over at the way he laid your snacks. Part of you wonders if he knows what he’s doing to your heart and part of you thinks it’s just how he is and that maybe you’re not as special as you hope you are to him. Either way, he has your heart in his hands and it’s too delicate now compared to your reappearing headache.

III. FAIRY GODMOTHER

“So you’re telling me that he was about to suck your face off, but for a message from his booty call and left?” You stare at your roommate, quite shocked at the way she worded everything from what you all told her. “Yeah, pretty much I guess.” You replied, throwing your head back onto the bed with a groan. You could hear her laughing, lifting your head to see her hysterically laughing into her hand. “I don’t see what’s so funny.” You continue, trying to hold back from joining her. As she calms herself down, she straightens up while wiping away her tears. “I knew transferring to SMU was gonna be different than HYBE-U, but y’all are a different breed on this campus.” She says, getting up from her chair that she pulled beside your bed and made her way toward your closet.

“What exactly are clothes gonna do to salvage what dignity I have left?” You asked, getting off your bed to meet her in your closet. She rummages through your clothes in the back, a section of clothes you never really wore unless you wanted to feel extra pretty. “We’re gonna make him jealous at the party tonight.” She said as if that was the most common sensible thing. You stare at her worriedly, especially with the outfit she had chosen. “C’mon y/n, haven’t you ever read those fanfics where the girl gets the guy jealous which lures him into confessing his underlying love for her and they live happily ever after?”

“This isn’t a fanfic nor is it a fairytale chae.” You said, watching as she turns to you with a bright smile. “C’mon, I know a couple of people who can ease your mind.” Hesitantly, you followed her across campus to one of the halls you had only been in once. You were starting to get a nagging feeling of where she was taking you, but you tried to relax and follow along with her. You entered the same dorm hall you knew that Chenle and Jisung stayed in, walking past their door with a small smile on your face. As she continued down the hall, she stopped at one door that you knew was most likely a single room.

After a few knocks and the loud music from inside the room stopping, a very tall and yet handsome guy opened the door. “Oh, hey Chaewon.” He said, instantly smiling down at her. “Heeseung, this is my friend y/n who also doubles as a roommate and we kinda need your help.” She says, walking past him to enter his room. Unfazed, he steps aside and gestures for you to enter the room as well. Upon entering, you recognize almost immediately that he was a music major. He had music sheets laid across his desktop, an acoustic guitar on his bed and the stereo where you could only assume that the music was coming from was on his bedside table.

“Heeseung also transferred from HYBE-U, mister smarty pants graduated early so even though he looks older, he’s a year behind.” She said, taking his chair as her seat from his desk. He smiles at you, shrugging as he walks over to sit on his bed. “I just got lucky is all, don’t listen to the fairy tales she tells.” You nod, leaning against the wall while still observing his room. “So she is a fairy godmother after all?” This made Chaewon laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what’s up, did you need something or do you just enjoy my company?” Heeseung asked as he leaned against his pillows. “My dear y/n here has a case of the lovesick for her best friend who just so happens to be a fuckboy.” You groan, dropping your face into your hands while Heeseung surprisingly listens without comment. “So I need you to come to the party with us tonight that he’ll be at to kinda spice things up.”

You could hear some shuffling, but nothing was said by either of them. Just as you’re about to look up, Heeseung grabs your wrists and pulls them from your face. “Are you okay with this y/n? I know we just met, but I don’t want to tag along if you’re not down.” You had to truly think about your answer for this because this could make a lot of both good and bad things happen between you and Haechan. Part of you was too scared and slightly insecure to try and get his attention on you, but you also felt like you waited so long for this and if not now, then when. You finally nod, giving both Heeseung and Chaewon the green to get ready and go. After you and Chaewon had finished getting dressed, the two of you met Heeseung down by his car for a ride.

Winter and Ryujin were texting you nonstop on the way asking why you didn’t ride with them and once they were filled in, they completely understood. You were typing away on your phone to your friends, not noticing Heeseung smiling softly at you. “How long have you two known each other?” You look up at him confused until you follow his eyes to your lock screen. It was a picture you and Haechan took over the summer when you visited your hometown, the sun kissed his skin beautifully while you hid from it with glasses and a hat. “Over 10 years.” You answer, looking up to meet his eyes for a second. “I hope this goes well for you.” Your heart melted at his words, reaching over to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Me too because if I’m honest, I’m tired or watching you two shoot love arrows with your eyes.” Chaewon said as she got out of his car.

Both you and Heeseung got out of the car, making your way into the NCT Fraternity house. Heeseung was always one step behind you, playing into the whole idea that he was your plus one for the night. You could see some familiar faces throughout the crowd, looking around to see if you could spot one of your friends lingering around. “You two have fun, I’m gonna go find a drink.” Chaewon said, barely audible over the music before she slipped off into the crowd. “You’re not weird are you?” Your question makes Heeseung laugh, shaking his head as you seem pleased with his answer. You grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the side of the house where the kitchen and typically a pool table was at.

Just as you turn a corner, you spot Renjun and Winter talking over by the kitchen entrance. “I found some of my friends.” You said, getting a nod from Heeseung as you made your way through the crowd. “There she is!” Winter said a little louder than you expected. She throws her arms over your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. You smile, returning the hug as she laughs into your hair. “Do I know you?” Renjun asks, immediately eyeing Heeseung down. “He’s my plus one, Jun this is Heeseung, Heeseung this is Renjun.” You say, prying Winter’s arms from around you.

You fidget under Renjun’s questioning gaze, knowing he has more questions that you’d rather not answer. He senses your shift in demeanor, rolling his shoulders back in attempts to relax. “Did you already meet up with Haechan?” He says to which you answer him no. “Last time I saw him, he was somewhere out near the rooms.” You nod, bidding goodbye as you decide to take the way through the kitchen to avoid less people. “People have been eyeing us since we walked in, just a heads up.” Heeseung says as he leaned down near your ear. You start to turn to face him as someone behind you nearly knocks you over.

You shut your eyes, waiting for the impact of the floor to hit until you realize someone is holding you up, or rather someone. You can smell Haechan’s cologne behind you, making your lips instantly curl up into a smile. Just as you’re about to say something, you follow his hard gaze to Heeseung who was holding onto your wrist and hip. “Are you okay y/n?” Heeseung’s voice snaps you out of the fog that the situation puts your head in. You nod, standing up with a little more effort as Haechan’s eyes move between the two of you. “Why are you still touching her?” Haechan’s tone was something you’ve never heard before. He genuinely looked like a million things were going through his head and one of them was about to be directed to the boy beside you.

“I was helping her up, who are you again?” Heeseung asked, feeling slightly intimidated and confused as to why the boy in front of you looked like he was going to go to war for you. “I’m her best friend, Haechan, you are who again?” You put one hand on his chest, feeling how tense he was as he took deep and shaky breaths. “Heeseung, her date for the night.” When you felt his warm hand on your shoulder, you didn’t know whether to push him away or accept the warmth. “Do you mind if I steal your date then?” Heeseung looked at you, asking through his eyes if you were okay. When you gave him a nod, he slowly backed away and eventually made his way through the crowd.

Haechan grabbed your hand as soon as Heeseung was out of sight, bringing you along the back of the house and into the back yard. You immediately start to rub your arms due to the slight breeze blowing your way. “Wanna explain who the fuck that was or do I need to guess?” You were genuinely shocked by his sudden hostility, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse you? What’s your deal hyuck, he’s just a friend that came with me to the party.” Haechan laughed, a little too unsettling for you to digest before he looked back at you. “Oh so he’s a friend huh? Is that what you do with all your friends now, nearly kiss them in your fucking bed before moving on to the next?”

You felt so many emotions that took the blow from his words. You could feel your eyes start to sting as you drop your arms. “You’ve been fucking some girl or many to be exact so why the hell does it matter when one guy caught my attention, huh?” This seemed to set Haechan off more than you’ve ever seen. His cheeks were a slight shade of pink from both his anger and the bite of winter winds. “You’re in love with me y/n, we all see it and yet you go fucking around with other guys so you might as well not feelings for me!” You couldn’t tell if the city around you went silent or were his words just that loud, but you could hear your heart shatter inside your chest.

Haechan didn’t seem to register his words until he looked up at your broken expression. The tears that were now flowing freely down your cheeks stained your skin as you let go of your clenched fists. “So you knew..and you didn’t say anything?” You couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, feeling almost embarrassed at how easily you had been strung along. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“ “You knew how I felt about you and instead of rejecting me you played around with girls in front of me?” You didn’t notice how close he was getting to you till he was within arms reach, so you stepped back. “Please let me explain, I’ll-“ You couldn’t be here any longer, you didn’t want to see him nor did you want anyone to see you like this.

“Fuck you donghyuck.”

IV. WHEN YOU’RE GONE

You inevitably spent weeks dodging Haechan at all costs. Since the night at the party where you two had a major falling out, you’ve spent your days in class and headed right back to your dorm if the coast was clear. If it wasn’t your roommate, it was one of your friends who kept an eye out for Haechan lingering around your door. From what they were trying to tell you, he sounded pretty desperate to see you, but you just weren’t ready yet. You stayed huddled up away from your usual spots where you know he could find you and slip away whenever you could.

Your pillow had become your best friend when you couldn’t stop yourself from crying each time your mind wandered back to that night. Chaewon did her best to comfort you and even laid with you on some nights till you fell asleep, but nothing she did could fill the void in your heart that had been caused by Lee Haechan himself. You were so hurt, so many questions that you had for him and you’d be damned if he didn’t answer them. More than that, you were confused as to why he did what he did with the information he had. He could’ve told you he wasn’t interested, he could’ve causally kept you in the friend zone instead of giving you the slightest bit of hope.

You were starting to get a headache as you sat on your bed, scrolling through videos on your phone. When the caller ID came down, you saw that Heeseung was calling you so you picked up. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive”. He says, laughing a little to lighten the mood. You let out a soft sigh, fiddling with the blanket between your fingers. “If that’s what this is called then consider me living like Larry.” When the line went silent, you could practically feel the disappointment through the phone. “Didn’t like that one?” You said, laughing as Heeseung let out a heavy sigh. “That was so bad, so so bad y/n.”

“Hyuck would’ve gotten it.” You mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear you as the tears you thought would have dried up start to reappear. “He misses you.” All of a sudden, you couldn’t think. The thought of him missing you wasn’t hard to imagine, but it made your heart ache so much more when you let yourself feel bad for creating such distance between you two. “He comes to I guess his friend’s room just down from mine and from what I’ve seen, he looks rough.” The two of you went silent once again, only untold thoughts filling in the gaps of the conversation. Heeseung takes a deep breath, about to say something when you hear a knock at your door.

“Coming!” You yell out, getting out of bed while wiping your face with your sleeve. “Are you expecting someone?” Heeseung asks through the phone, strumming on his guitar. “I ordered takeout earlier.” He only hums, bidding farewell as you throw your phone onto the bed and go to open the door. As you open the door, you don't know how exactly to react when you see Haechan standing in front of you holding what you assume is your takeout. “I paid him extra to let me be the one to deliver it, he kinda looked at me like I was insane, but he got a good tip.” He said, trying to get any form of a smile out of you.

You stare at him, nodding slowly as you take in his appearance. He looked a little thinner, the bags under his eyes slightly darker and his hair not as shiny as you remember it. Instinctively, you want to reach out and touch his cheek, but you hold back and try to figure out what to say from here. “Can I come in?” He says, fidgeting with the plastic bags in his hand. You can’t pinpoint what washed over you for you to step aside and let him in, but you’d have to face him eventually so opting for it now isn’t that bad of an idea. He looks around the room as if he’s never been inside, trying to find little things that he might’ve missed. To him, nothing changed. Your pictures of your friends are still up on the wall, your desktop is still oddly as neat as ever and the picture you two took on his family vacation is still in its frame next to your bed.

“What are you doing here?” The lump in your throat was keeping you from speaking any louder than a not so soft whisper. When he finally turned back to you, he could see how his much presence had affected you. “I needed to talk to you, I can’t keep going on like this without seeing you y/n.” You didn’t wanna be a fool, hesitant to accept the truth lying behind his words. Instead, you cross your arms and press for more out of him. “So then talk, but if you’re gonna waste my time then you might as well go now.” He sets the bag on your desktop, running his free hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts.

With a deep, shaky breath, he meets your eyes and in that moment he felt like the world around him was falling apart. “I want to start off by saying how sorry I am for being the biggest asshole in the world. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel like I was stringing you along because I couldn’t get it shit together and figure out my feelings for you.” You try to keep it together, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall down your cheeks as he continues. “I love you y/n, you’re my best friend in this entire world and I can’t- I can’t stand not being next to you anymore.” His voice sounded strained, as if he couldn’t get the words out.

“I was scared to admit that I had the same feelings you had for me and I know that sounds like a fucked up excuse, but I mean it when I say I love you. Jealousy took over the worst part of me and when I saw you with any guy, I felt like you’d fall for them and leave me.” You could tell he was crying, his hands were constantly wiping away his tears and brushing them on his cheeks. Your heart was broken, you never imagined that you’d be having this conversation with Haechan, let alone watching him cry and be so emotional with you. He walked toward you, trying to control his emotions while taking your hands into his.

“I don’t wanna know what it’s like when you’re not here, when you’re gone it’s like I’ve lost a part of me I’ll never get back and I know I don’t deserve any of it, but if you can forgive me, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You were a little taken aback by his sudden confession and the overall moment. You wanted to believe him and take him into your arms as if nothing had happened, but you were still very much hurt and cautious for your fragile heart. When he felt your arms wrap around him, he blinks away the tears. “Promise me that you’ll never do some dumb shit like that again and maybe we’ll talk about this being more.”

Hearing his soft laugh made your heart swell. You couldn’t tell if you had done something right in your past life or if you were just this lucky to have him with you, but you were hoping nothing would change. “I promise as long as you promise to never let me go.” You lift your head, bringing one hand to his cheek. “I promise, you better be lucky I love you.” He smiles, leaning into your touch while closing in on the space between you two. “I am extremely lucky to be loved by you and to only love you.”

©️liliansun., 2022

[diorcities]

an essay on dreams

pairing: haechan (donghyuck) x reader, jeno x reader. genre: angst, smut, fantasy ya. hyudior's halloween stories. content: morally grey characters, slow burn, heavy plot. smut flashes (blowjob, missionary.) riding, fingering (fem receiving), oral sex (fem receiving), mating press, missionary, manhandling, slight handjob. sandman references. prose w poetry. wc: 20k, (but bear w me, it is worth it)

there is a dream you always dream of.

where you fall, infinitely. towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean. you don't know. you never know, because you never reach the bottom. that dream you always dream about, about falling without knowing what awaits you is more recurrent than you would like to admit; it scares you more than you'd like to admit. but the most disturbing thing is that the hands that keep you suspended, those who prevent you from falling into the void are the ones that throw you in the first place.

a stranger. a friend. a lover. an enemy.

yet, it was intriguing.

your body shakes off its lethargy and you soon realize that you've been dozing off for a while when you're supposed to study. you find yourself slightly disoriented even though it's still 2 a.m., as if a whole lifetime has passed between the now and a couple of minutes ago; the sensation takes a little bit to wash off when your mouth stretches into an involuntary yawn, too potent to resist your exhaustion. every one of you is in the same dire state.

you embarked on what was meant to be a night of tranquil study, a forlorn endeavor to conquer an all-nighter. yet, at this moment, renjun reclines against jaemin's sturdy shoulder who nods over his notes, struggling to keep his eyes open. chenle has long departed for some ethereal realm where souls find solace while their earthly vessels rest. even there, he's not alone, jisung's always present sporadically responding too fatigued to discern that chenle's not with him, but in the cosmos.

“i was waiting for you” he mumbles at one point, getting no response from his murmuring partner.

and him. why is he here, among all the past nights? scattered on the sofa with no signs of being tired, walks his eyes along the lines of the book before his gaze falls on you and catches you sneaking a glance at him. you clear your throat feeling a rush of energy and turn your attention to the heavy tome on your lap, but the letters change places due to fatigue, and one more second looking at it will cause a migraine. so, you close the heavy book that almost threatens to wake up renjun who startles next to you but remains dreaming peacefully, now with jaemin laying his head on his, as you can no longer hear the meaningless conversation that jisung and chenle are having a few moments ago.

“i think it's just you and me,” you say, seeing how his way of responding to you is by pulling his head to the side, as if he knows something you don’t know yet.

the haze that has fallen on your eyes barely allows you to see his features clearly, but there's no need for that; messy honeycomb hair that he brushes every now and then, delicate hands that surely caress like a lover, brown sugar eyes that now are still on you “why don't you go to sleep?” he asks, and his voice sounds soft and slippery like a warm feeling that drips through your mind. “i can't,” you hear yourself say.

“why?”

he looks really interested. but why does he care so much? it's him who disappears at the moment when everyone else is asleep and appears days later, leaning against the brick wall of the university on any given cold morning, smoking a cigarette with the rest as if he had never left. as if you're the only one who's noticed he wasn't there.

“why don't you go to sleep?” you replicate, and you feel your heart beat slower. “besides, will you be able to study tomorrow with us, anyway?”

he just shrugs his shoulders, “why?”.

where will he go, when he's not around, when you didn't know each other, years ago? will he go to his place? will he tour the city because he has insomnia, like you? because he has nightmares, like you?

“because you'll be behind with us and we'll have to help you keep up.”

“is that so terrible?” he asks now with a composed tone, and due to deprivation, you can't turn back time so you haven't been so insensitive. “sorry,” you apologize, “i'm irritated by this test, that's why i must stay awake,” you finally confess, but is it the truth? doesn't wanting to know if he's going to leave that time have anything to do with the desire of not want to go to bed?

“everyone's asleep,” he points out. but you. the words burn in your tongue when he speaks again, “there's no point in studying while being tired.”

“i'm not tired.” but he knows you're lying, and your cheeks burn at the thought of him knowing that. you are, in the way your eyes stay closed longer than necessary when you blink, startling when an apex of desolate darkness comes and tries to lurks you in., you're too busy trying to soothe the dizzy spell to notice that he has come closer to you.

“go to sleep, star.”

“maybe if you... sleep with me.” donghyuck laughs briefly, shaking his head slightly, and you simply stay there, unable to look away, because one of the strands of his soft hair has moved slightly out of place, and you fight the urge to run your fingers between them. he doesn't lose his composure for a second, even though his cheeks are flushed. “would that be a good dream?”

“ask me tomorrow.”

your eyes close and open heavily, feeling the thick fog of sleep take possession of your mind while his figure seems to change the further you lose the battle. “i'll stay a few more minutes” you grumble in disadvantage of this weird sensation taking over your body, feeling his face being swallowed by the darkness that envelops you, casting shadows over his delicate, angular features. “now, yn.”

“i'm afraid i'll have nightmares about letters changing places if i do,” you say in an exhale.

he raises the corners of his lips, “i'll keep them away.”

his voice vibrates and passes through you in waves, resonating and expanding within you, injecting a silky sedative into your bloodstream. you are not in control of your body. the calming effect that his voice has is hard to battle, letting your head pull back and your arms fall inert on either side of your body, feeling the weight of the book slip like liquid out of your lap, feeling that every second you spend unsuccessfully in regaining control of your body is another second that slips from your fingers until it becomes an unstoppable retreat.

no matter how hard you strive to resist, slumber proves an unyielding force, and gradually, you sink deeper into morpheus domain. your body offers no resistance, your consciousness scatters throughout the boundless universe, wandering towards the endless expanse of the cosmos as the battle, both unfair and treacherous, dissipates.

as the world blurs, he's looking at you. it's his docile and magnanimous voice resounding in every bone that makes your voyage to the gloomy stars less terrible. and as you go there, you were looking at him.

time passes differently on the rem. you don't know how to explain it. it's hard to put into words. there is no activity at instance, only unconsciousness. nothing. and then... the entire universe formed with one pulse. time shrinks and cracks like a wormhole, and you're passing right through it.

your screams are barely a muffled sound in the immense darkness that rushes past you. your lungs fill with frigid air, and each frightened exhalation feels like a stab. fear tightens your stomach as you plummet through the hole. this is the moment when you remember a forgotten detail; it's just a nightmare, despite your emotions being real, despite feeling the terror emanating from your body.

there's always a mist clouding your dreams. something you dread when you close your eyes and find yourself alone for a moment in that darkness. thick, volatile, arcane. a piece of a starless sky, which weaves its own mantle that extinguishes sunlight. it smells like a thunderstorm, like the dark part of the moon. and yet, the terrors that fright the long nights are easily dissolve in liquid twilight when golden threads intervene, transforming the matter into a meteor shower.

and you're falling once again, into the stars. no. you're floating among them.

you are dreaming.

was this a fragment that belonged to the ether before it got lost in the darkness? was it yours? the matter becomes so thin that your unconscious body can pass through it. stranded in the endless void between the stars. but now everything glows.

a cozy bedroom. a café opened at midnight. a party. a city at night. a meadow. a black hole. a beach.

all happening, in the same fraction of time.

the wheat your fingers touch. the rock music that envelops your body not so different from the one that comes out of a jukebox at midnight while you dance slowly. your feet buried in the sand.

your gaze lowers to your feet before looking at the expanse of sea. little by little the sounds come back, and you're listening to the seagulls over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle startles you as he passes by your side, smiling so openly while he walks away toward the shore, that makes you smile too.

your eyes water from looking straight at him, waiting for an answer, and you find yourself thinking what to say, when someone else does it. “no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

a sense of unease settles in your stomach. you slice your head for memories of how you ended up in that place when all of a sudden you remember that you haven't woken up yet.

you keep dreaming, but why this dream? where are the others?

why do you seem to be an intruder in your own dream?

“chenle, where are w-…?” your words are cut off. you cut them yourself. your voice…. sounds different; it echoes through space before returning to you in waves, until all that's left is the sound of your pulse pumping behind your ears.

you witness something unusual. jisung and chenle watch you. their faces reveal nothing, frozen in a neutral expression. all of humanity torn from their jovial faces and leaving only a shell that shows no emotion whatsoever.

a thunder strikes the sky, and jisung's face transforms. “what are you doing here?” you hesitate before speaking because you remember how your voice sounded a few moments ago; just like how his sounds like now. “i don't like this dream.” you ask, and everything is unsettling for you. a smile disfigures the boy's pale face, “i do.”

within that inner space, the corner of the universe residing within you, something stirs.

you've never been able to dream. and he often slumbers eternally when you're conscious, only to awaken for fleeting moments, like the ones when you do dream, to play with them. a riddle of ivory and hair as dark as night, celestial as a sculpted statue, perfectly chiseled, with skin as pale as lunar dust, as frigid as thee. you refer to him as nightmare.

nightmare, like the ones that torment you in the long nights. like the monsters that inhabit your head. nightmare, like this one. 

you don't know anything about it, only that it dwells in you. in the immensity of your nightmares. he. who is so wary of the touch of morpheus that takes you out of the rem, where you wake up, breathing erratically.

it's still dark. the room is darkened and you feel that someone is lurking in it. wrap its hands around you, feeling your heart skip a beat as the fear crawls inside, failing to escape the dreaming. “it's me, star. it's donghyuck, it's donghyuck,” his voice tinted with sedative calmness even though you sense your own desperation in it.

you feel his fingers in your hair, as if he can untangle the bad dreams from your head, while his voice continues to feel serene, having an effect on your runaway pulse. you allow yourself to be influenced. it's always this needs to find warmth even in a place on fire. letting your guard down even when your gut says something is wrong, that he feels wrong. “you can't have good dreams.” your breath gets stuck in your throat when you hear his nocturnal voice, “he'll make sure of that.”

your body sits up, and a thud rumble causes jisung to stir in his sleep. the dim light of a forgotten lamp reveals his features in deep sleep. chenle sobs beside you, in trouble. the world becomes silent as his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it, and suddenly his chest becomes still.

jisung mutters something when you're halfway from chenle. you don't hear it until he repeats it, this time more pressing, “wake— up.” your eyes travel to the boy, breathless at jisung's twisted features in a grimace of anguish.

“chenle, wake up.” your hands shake it, but there's no answer. there's nothing.  he's not breathing. “chenle,” you say more urgently, slapping his face a couple of times, “you need to breathe.” your face moves closer to his chest to try to feel his heartbeat; you don't like the revelation at all. “chenle, now!” jisung frets under your attempts to awaken chenle; his murmurs begin to become more frequent and yours more desperate.

“it's just a dream.”

jisung keeps repeating «wake up», and you start to get impatient. in one last attempt, you shift your attention to him. your hands hesitate, suspended in the path it takes you to reach his shoulders, before you do, taking a breath of air. “wake up, now!”

chenle takes a long breath of oxygen behind you, sitting up in the sleeping bag almost as jisung's eyes widen in stupefaction. you feel your head lighter, forcing you to rest your weight on your elbows while catching your breath.

“what the hell was that?” chenle asks in a hoarse voice, casting a glance at jisung before you.

you deny shortly. “you stopped breathing.”

“i know… i was— drowning,” he mentions with a shallow tone.

“what were you dreaming?” you hear yourself asking even though you don't want to know the answer.

his eyes pull away from his friend to answer you. “a beach.”

( ✶ )

donghyuck has disappeared, as usual. and you can't come to the conclusion whether that's bad or good. but it is inevitable to go around the courtyard in search of his presence. try to find him in the cafeteria with the others, or in the library where you thought he would be with jaemin that day. but it is useless, and trying to contact him is even more so. you know you shouldn't worry too much about his absence; donghyuck always comes back. even when it takes days or weeks. and feeling that you would expect it all that time does not end up seeming hopeful or pathetic. because he just doesn't care. he makes no excuses. he gives no explanation. he just appears, as if only one day had passed, as if you had said goodbye yesterday.

and every time, the lapses in which he disappears become larger. at first, it was days; he always came with an excuse about being busy. then weeks. and so on, the lapses will grow wider, until you forget his features. until you forget him.

“don't think too hard, bug.” his voice takes you out of the planet of thoughts, but his eyes remain on the book in his hand, “it's no use.” then his gaze lands on you, and it feels like he can see through you.

“what are we searching for?” jaemin lets you change the subject and focus on the stall. “art project,” he absentmindedly informs, “my teacher wants us to investigate not-so-ordinary things.”

“thats why we're in the fantasy section?” renjun arrives unexpectedly and joins in the casual chat while leaving a pile of books on the shelf where jaemin had left his attention.

“urban fantasy, little bird,” jaemin corrects under the shared chuckles of you and renjun. “troubles with sleeping?” he asks, taking notice of the books renjun had had in his possession just minutes ago.

“per usual. is either i finish my midterms or my midterms finishes me.” he pats his shoulder before taking a seat at the study table designated by the science student committee to chat during breaks.

“nightmares?” jaemin inquires before renjun shakes his head and scares away his words with his hand in a relaxed gesture. “cute, but no.”

your countenance shadows by thoughts entangling as they form, “drowning?” the word escapes from your subconscious before you can stop your mouth and renjun looks at you strangely. “dreaming apnea.”

“you found that in your little search?” jaemin praises with a smug smile that causes renjun to roll his eyes. “are you having dreaming apnea?” he wonders looking at you.

you shake your head. “i—” no. just your taciturn nightmare, until that night. of all of them the one where he was there, and you dreamed. a few seconds of glory before falling down the hole that always waits below, “see you at the red door.” jaemin and renjun say goodbye to you smiling slightly before watching you walk away from the study table towards the exit.

you can't tell them about chenle yet. not without knowing what it means. your mind is fragmented in the fateful night moment when his heart stopped beating and the moment before your nightmare triggered a metamorphosis.

a sharp pain goes through your head just thinking about it. all those dreams, could they be yours? you find yourself trying to calm the drill that slices your brain at the little hint of dreaming when you hear their voices.

“... finds out.”

“... she's not...”

they abruptly shut up as if they feel like you're listening.

jisung's gaze looks sterner than usual when chenle speaks, “d'you think you're safer?”

“no.” his voice is barely a whisper.

chenle sighs audibly, “we can make mistakes, just… don't kill me in one of those.”

jisung laughs.

“it never turned into a nightmare before...”

his words keep echoing in your head for a long time later.

( ✶ )

“an essay on dreams.”

“you must be kidding!” renjun exclaims, throwing his head back to show his annoyance.

“what does that mean anyway?” jisung asks with his mouth full of popcorn, “like, to prove your point you'll fall asleep in front of everyone?” chenle laughs at the other end of the couch.

“hear me out for a second.”

“oh, not again,” replies chenle.

jaemin ignores chenle to answer the confused boy, “i'm doing research about the rem.”

“so dreams and nightmares, then,” mutters renjun.

“the spectrum.”

everyone looks at him, dumbfounded. “how does our brain process dreams? why can't we remember some? is there a fragmented consciousness?...”

you feel donghyuck gaze on you, and when you return it, you discover that he is looking at you strangely. “entertained?”

“very,” you say, feeling the word slide down your tongue and leave a strange aftertaste. you've been feeling weird this week. it's been a few days since you eavesdropped on chenle and jisung, and you don't know how to feel about it. you haven't talked about it; you've kept your distance while the waters calm down. in the meantime, dreaming and having mental lapses in identical proportions are taking your mind lately. dreams that now belong to you. dreams that you can't seem to have enough of. you wake up from them and spend the whole day waiting to go back to bed and dream. this time, what?

a terrace in milan. night walks in new york. a piano in a london theater.

your eyes close under the premise of rem and a thousand and one dreams, but you find yourself unable to fall asleep as you feel commotion in the small living room where everyone is asleep.

but donghyuck.

the bewilderment crawls into your skin, “what…?” but donghyuck presses a finger over his mouth. silence.

your eyes sweep the place, travel to chenle; his chest rises and falls.

another rumble is heard.

“where's renjun?” you question without making a sound.

kitchen.

you get there before him because he has to cross the entire room to catch up with you when you've already changed rooms. the lights are off, and yet the silvery light that trickles through the window is extinguished when it stumbles upon his stretched figure.

even when everything is dark, you can feel his gaze.

“going somewhere?”

you feel him smile. “this late?” your eyes squint to see in more detail. you feel donghyuck get closer. renjun's voice sounds different when he speaks, “i like the night better.”

renjun opens the door, and the light coming in from the moon reveals his closed eyes.

donghyuck gets in the way when you make a pretense of going to renjun. “he's asleep—” you intervene, watching him debate. renjun disappears through the door he has opened before going into the long night “i'll go.”

what he did. what he did to you. the words he said when you thought you were out of the nightmare; you start to think that all of this is happening because of him.

he can see it in the way you look at him.

“i'll bring him back, yn,” he says before letting you go with slight reluctance. his dark eyes are the last thing you see before he disappears in pursuit of renjun.

your breath condenses in your throat as you turn around and hit jisung's sleepy figure squarely. “where are they going?”

you find yourself in the dilemma of whether or not to tell him, when in the end your bad judgment wins out “donghyuck… he, renjun, he's…”

“sleepwalking.” jaemin's yawns as he passes the two of you to close the door. you both stare at him in surprise before he stiffens slightly and speaks, “one of the terrors of the rem spectrum.”

“terrors?”

“nightmares.”

chenle enters the kitchen scratching his stomach, “well, that doesn't sound silly anymore.”

“shouldn't we go after him?” you ask, “what if he gets hurt?” you add after watching jaemin shakes his head.

“donghyuck's with him,” jaemin persuades.

“and magically we should relax?” chenle says incredulously under the eldest's gaze.

after a few long seconds where everyone waits for an elaborate answer, jaemin takes a breath of air and lets out “yes.” with nothing else before heading to the leaving room.

“wait a fucking minute.” chenle goes after him, and consequently, jisung and you too. “that's it? are we leaving the safety of our friend to someone we see every forty days?” he utters without a hint of sleep, watching jaemin shrug his shoulders, “what if he's a werewolf?”

“oh, my god.”

“we're in the middle of halloween, he might as well just be reaching out to us to become one of his kind.”

“okay, kid, enough tv before going to bed.” jaemin lets go, shaking off the chenle's grip, “you too,” he adds, looking at jisung.

due to chenle's heavy gaze, reluctant to give his arm to twist, jaemin snorts, “he's not a fucking werewolf.”

“vampire?”

“no.”

“why do you trust him?” jaemin is surprised at the contrast between his conversation and yours, but when he responds, you feel like he's grateful that you asked.

“i have sleep paralysis.”

“at first i thought it was because of having to work at that bar so i could pay rent and college...” he remains silent and lets himself be swallowed up by his mind going at a thousand revolutions.

“but they turned longer and longer, until i couldn't close my eyes without the fear that i'd be imprisoned in my own body again.”

“he offered to wake me up when that happened. he stayed in my place for a few nights and helped me.”

“did you dream about him?” everyone looks at jisung before jaemin shakes his head.

“why would i dream about him?” chenle adds under his breath before deciding it was good time go back to sleep.

“i mean, has anyone ever?” jisung goes behind him, answering in low volume, leaving you with his words causing swirls in your head.

“have you?” jisung looks over his shoulder at your face, but is only met with a neutral gaze that doesn't reveal the dead-end labyrinths that build up every time you try to reveal a moon phase of donghyuck. “no.” when he's everywhere.

when he knew jaemin for longer and never appeared in his dreams. nor chenle or jisung. no one has ever dreamed of him, and you couldn't dream before that night.

monday comes by, and so tuesday. all at once, the sounds come back to you until they become a swarm from which you have no escape, pulling out of your small universe. the night continues its constant rhythm, forcing you to stay agile, waiting tables in a bar on some forgotten street.

“still don't know why we come here all the time,” chenle says, taking a sip from this beer the moment you left it in front of him as his gaze swept the seedy place where you work half a shift. you smile unapologetically as you leave another one in front of jisung. “cheaper beers,” he answers for you, “and jaemin and yn work here.”

“what's up with the frown?” jaemin's voice blends in with the rest of the chatter, coming in your direction with a sad grimace on his face, mockingly. chenle rolls his eyes, “i'm just saying that we might as well get out of here drunk or dead.”

“it's not that bad, lele,” jisung tries to appease unsuccessfully when chenle scoffs in response. “say that when we get matching stabs in our way out,” he adds with sulkiness.

jaemin clicks his tongue, “stabs are friday's special, don't worry about it today, little prince.”

“ha,ha.”

jaemin stops smiling to adress you, “hey, can you take out the trash?”

your steps guide you towards the door designated for staff, and the voices of the group fade into the distance, swallowed by the sea of souls in that overcrowded establishment. it's quite a challenge to navigate among swaying bodies and avoid the occasional vomit stains; a typical night at the red door. frankly, you have no idea how you ended up there, in that dim corner of the city's harbor, where the majority of the clientele appears to be a curious mix of fishermen and shady characters.

before braving the cold night outside, you cast one final look at the group, attempting to soothe chenle's mood as the icy wind lashes at your face.

a chill envelops the outside, causing the nearest souls to huddle indoors, even though it's bursting at the seams. your breath escapes in ethereal clouds as you step through the door; a single bulb intermittently lights the desolate alley. it flickers in a constant dance of light and darkness, and it's not until the third flicker that you realize you're not alone. three silhouettes wrap themselves in the cold of the night as you put the bags in the bin. it's the midst of october, and the city seems trapped in an endless cycle of rain and snow. the fishermen seek refuge inside that cozy bar before the first light of dawn breaks, prepared for their maritime journey.

they seem to have a pleasant conversation as you redo the march toward the cozy interior of the seedy bar when his laughter reaches you with the wind. 

“tell me, sleepwalker.” his voice, so different from the one he uses with you, is the embodiment of the dark side of the moon, deep as the endless night. “there's a price for our knowledge, my dream,” whispers one of them, his companions barely whisper to each other with a seductive tone, appearing indifferent to the shadowy nuance with which donghyuck addresses them as if they were accustomed to hearing him that way, and you are the only one taken aback by witnessing it for the first time.

the bulb flickers and plunges you into darkness as they continue talking. in one flash, you see his broad back turning towards you. another flicker, and the features of his companions start to emerge as if they are being shaped in the dark time it takes for the bulb to light up the alley once more. your breath freezes in your throat.

“good dreaming, perhaps?” you find yourself considering that the entities he converses with might not be entirely of this world, and that donghyuck is not perturbed, but rather accustomed to their presence.

“doesn't work like that,” he replies with a hint of humor under the fog that causes his voice in you.  “you've done it before,” appeals the other one starting to look more like a woman with each dark flicker. you see donghyuck leaning toward her, and it's impossible to discern when he turns his back to you. you feel the seconds pass with two beats of your heart, as donghyuck regains his composure, and the figure releases a laugh that indicates donghyuck's actions have affected her. your mind undergoes a revolution, not knowing what he has done, filling your head with ideas you don't want to let affect you.

a can blocks your path, disrupting the piercing silence of the alley as you struggle to increase the distance between him and you, while simultaneously shortening the one separating you from the door. suddenly, a dizziness envelops you as his eyes meet yours.

your elusive figure slips back into the bar after having listened to their entire conversation, having gone unnoticed by their radar. donghyuck turns his gaze back to the two women, consumed by dreams, appearing more like specters than humans due to the time they've spent traversing the dream realm. completely stripped of amusement when his eyes lock onto them, one of the women dares to speak, “look at you, so far from home. chasing a myth.”

“what would morpheus think if he sees you?” donghyuck nods in acknowledgment. both figures smile, mirroring each other in a shared consciousness. he remains silent as each passing second takes a toll on the women, now reduced to little more than shadows and uncertainty. their eyes narrow once again as donghyuck addresses them, “ask him yourselves. you're now, awakened.” his voice, brimming with power, issues a gentle reprimand for their roundabout approach. donghyuck watches them dissolve into the cold night, carried away by the wind to their ensnared bodies in the dreaming, before he figures out what to do with you. his eyes trace back to the spot where you vanished before he follows your trail within. 

the darkness envelops the surroundings, weaving a perfect nest for nightmares and terrors. he can hear them, his dreams and nightmares, those dark and eager thoughts yearning to break free from his mind, craving to run wild in the world. his eyes catch the faint golden threads that barely endure; the realm of sweet dreams clings as a fragile inhabitant in that place overrun by nightmares. he sees your figure moving through the crowd, approaching the group of boys who seem to have stepped out of a fairy tale to which you feel you don't quite belong, always yearning to reach the sun and bask in its warmth, despite being destined to settle for shadows and cold. feeling confined and punished by the terrors, yet perceiving a spark in your eyes capable of kindling your own fire if that's what you need to stay warm.

a sturdy arm intercepts the space between your body and that of the group. your eyes follow the limb until they meet a face weathered by the storm, bloodshot eyes, and a repulsive smile. “another round of beer for this table, darling,” he grumbles. his companions cheer as you nod hesitantly, getting ready to go for the drinks, but the arm hasn't budged an inch. “what's wrong? i saw you smiling at that group over there. is there no smile for me?” the beer-stained breath wafts into your nostrils, reminding you to be cautious. the men exchange glances at your lack of reaction, allowing the arm that holds you captive to linger another second with them. you exhale and resume your walk when a jolt rocks your world, and a hand lands on your rear unceremoniously. “give us a smile!” unrestrained chaos erupts due to the man's audacious move, taking you by surprise. laughter erupts at their table as you break free from his grasp with force, the motion propelling you forward until you collide with a solid surface.

you gasp for breath, determined to untangle yourself from the arms that envelop you and keep you captive when your eyes meet donghyuck's gentle gaze before it shifts behind you. you see his eyes cloud over, and you recall the encounter with those specters from a moment ago, prompting you to break free from his grip and put as much distance between him and you as allowed, escaping to the boys who talk about dreams and nightmares.

thanks to jaemin's discoveries from his essay, everyone is more aware of the spectrum, as he often calls it. how nightmares influence sleepers, causing terrors such as apnoea, sleep paralysis, narcolepsy, and sleepwalking; all the things that have been affecting you these past nights.

apnoea. the decease of holding your breath while diving in the ocean of dreaming. sleep paralysis. being conscious while being in the ether. nightmares. darkness that slips into your dreams and turns golden threads into liquid shadows. narcolepsy. the state of the consciousness that gets trapped in the ether. insomnia. inability to enter the dream spectrum, unwelcome.

“...morpheus and the dreamcatcher. how morpheus loved his dreams so much he turned them real.” you hear as you come closer.

“finally,” jaemin greets you before you realize he's talking to someone else. donghyuck has appeared behind you after you left him with those guys; his gaze has darkened. “shall we leave?”

“wait a minute.” chenle's voice interrupts donghyuck's, “is he coming?”

“why wouldn't he?” jaemin replies.

chenle scoffs graceless, “i don't know, jaems, maybe for the fact that all of this is happening when he's around,” he points out, sweeping his glare for approval, “besides, where the fuck is renjun, huh? bet he killed him and…”

“he, what?” renjun arrives without prior notice and places his hand on chenle's shoulder, who startles at the unexpected arrival of the boy. “ren!” jisung hugs the eldest under chenle's gaze.

“oh my god, tell me i'm not the only one who thinks this is a bad idea.”

“you've been thinking bad ideas since we arrived,” mocks jisung.

“whatever.”

your eyes take record of him, as much to everything. how chenle has big blue bags under his eyes, how jisung yawns every now and then, how jaemin seems barely here with you while renjun tries to pretend to be calm while he hasn't stopped fidgeting around.

nothing is said for a long time, but the aura remains the same, kneading the words and connecting them, failing to stay awake in class, being in a complete state of abstinence, being physically but absent. they being unable to sleep without the fear of facing their worst nightmares again, growing with each hopeless exhale, taking more space, becoming more ferocious, annihilating any iota of good dreaming.

“hey.” you blink repeatedly under jaemin's concerned gaze and offer him a reassuring smile before your gaze meets donghyuck's.

and how he looks more tired than ever.

with his bright eyes completely dull, distant expressions and a mind working at high speed behind his gaze lost somewhere in the universe that inhabits his head. he, has been having bad dreams? what will he dream of? what will his taste like? more worrying, how did he do it? making you neglect your duties for the simple fact of making you dream of outer space.

“it's dawning,” you comment, “we should probably get going.”

time fades away as they gather their belongings and venture into the dark night. your mind gets lost in a sea of thoughts before you remember that you've forgotten something, and you quickly retrace your steps back to the bar. you follow your steps automatically to the staff door, and your eyes find the piece of cloth on the coat rack. you take it in your hands, ready to return to your friends, when something catches your attention. the service door is slightly ajar, maybe due to the cold wind, maybe due to unknown hands.

your fingers brush against the doorknob to close it, but in a final breath, you decide to step out into the alley, guided by a hunch.

a thick, dark fog swirls on the wet ground of the alley, while the light bulb in your heart flickers to the rhythm of the sharp whistles in the air. the light reveals their figures, and darkness envelops them as you hear the sounds they make. the light shows the glint of their blades, while the darkness makes you feel more than hear the steel cutting through skin. the light reveals their sinister self-inflicted smiles, and darkness enshrouds them once again.

the dark mist rises and condenses in the spot behind them, taking shape, molding a pair of shoulders draped in black garments, hair as dark as the night, and two eyes that gaze at you with depth. you hear his vicious laughter resonating within you.

( ✶ )

another night descends upon all, and each one tries to find sleep. however, you find yourself willing to stay awake, trying to keep yourself at bay from the clutches of morpheus. you toss and turn on the sofa unable to find rest and choose to remain in the room's dimness.

the memories of that night haunt your thoughts, like persistent shadows refusing to fade. the images of what happened seem to replay in your mind again and again, giving you no respite.

as you're immersed in your thoughts, you sense chenle stirring in his dreams; the dreaming heads of everyone scattered in jaemin's small room like stars, and it all seems to happen again. it feels like an eternity has passed since they were all like this, every laugh, every conversation, every shared look and gesture of camaraderie among them, whose only concern was passing exams. but it's only been two weeks. two weeks without him.

your eyes begin to close unexpectedly. “enough,” you demand from the boy hidden in the shadows. “i'm not doing anything, star.” his eyes look like daydream pools when he looks at you, “you're just tired.”

you struggle against the lethargy that fills your body, reluctant to close your eyes after what you've seen, after witnessing what the darkness conceals. dreams, on the other side of the room, so far out of your reach. nightmares, your recurring companion when you shut your eyes. his tattooed on your subconscious, brimming with ruthless coldness against the specters, ingrained in the alley where the men cut off their own smiles.

“they were evil.” his voice yanks you from your reverie, “they use human bodies to wander through worlds while they sleep,” calm and warm, explains. your gaze darts toward renjun, sleeping. “yes,” he responds as though he'd anticipated your query. “you should’ve come sooner,” you reproach. donghyuck remains reticent as you unload your grievances upon him and allows you to vent until you feel hollow inside, while everything whirls around him. “i couldn't.”

“why?”

the words burn at the tip of your tongue, despite knowing the answer. despite having seen the lines of reality blur and worlds collapse. you can't decide whether to feel fear or relief; you can’t trust him anymore.

you leave donghyuck with the word in his mouth, rolling over on the couch. whatever half-truth he wants to tell you, you don't want to hear it.

it's faster that time. dreams don't put up resistance when you insert yourself into them. and again, you dream the same thing.

the sand you feel between your fingers as real as in the city, with jaemin. in the meadow, with renjun. in a black hole, alone.

you always resort to the same fragment of dream. and even though you stay out of it, the sleep is disturbed. it mutates.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle passes by your side,  smiling so bright, completely ignoring what you see.

your eyes go to the expanse of sea behind them, which now rises in a wave until it blends with the blue of the sky; a sand island caught in the middle. the sounds of seagulls reverberate in the sky until you realize that it is not them but dolphins, using the clouds as waves.

“no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

“don't make me drown this time,” chenle jokes, and you wonder.

is this chenle's dream or jisung's dream? or perhaps, something in between?

a thunderclap rumbles in every nerve joint at the same time as it does in the ground, forming the wake of the lightning in fingers that protrude from the sand and form rings that touch the sea. your eyes close dejectedly. it's the beginning of the denouement. no matter how you decide to appear, the result is always the same.

“it's a vortex.” you are startled to hear his well-known voice behind you, before you finally see him. his face… almost lights up even though it's shadowed with concern. but there's no doubt he could be containing a sun within. “it's bringing the walls down, so the dream glitches.”

“are you dreaming this too?”

you see the flutter of a strange smile that brightens up his face more, “i'm not dreaming, neither are you.” donghyuck scans the surroundings before taking note of you taking note of him. “this is chenle's dream,” he explains, “and jisung's,” he finally adds.

“they're both dreaming the same dream because of the vortex.”

“what's a vortex?”

“a sleep phenomenon,” he says, meditating. “what happens if it brings the walls down?”

a few seconds pass when your heart stops beating in the wake of his response, “the dreaming will collapse.” and that'll mean there will be no barrier between what is real and what is ethereal, so dreams will run free. and nightmares.

“their whole nature is dangerous. vortex cannot dream so they enters other's people,” donghyuck explains to you, “by doing this, the lines between dreams blurries, and two people dream about each other.” but it's impossible to look at him for long when you have secrets in your eyes. “it must be eradicated.”

“i thought people could dream about other people.”

“chenle is not dreaming about jisung, he is dreaming with jisung,” he remarks, “they're both consciously dreaming together because jisung is causing it.”

your eyes turn to donghyuck. “jisung is the vortex?”

he nods while something heavy settles in your stomach. it all makes sense now. all the inexplicable. everything out of the ordinary. their conversation. the day at the library where chenle was worried that someone would find out. all this time you thought they were talking about you, but they were actually talking about him. they were afraid of him.

what is he?

“what if you're wrong?” you question, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“i'm not.” his voice is tinged with regret, as if he were aware that you know he must do something irremediable, at any cost. “i have the entire collective unconscious.”

dreams. conveyed by threads to the planet of dreams, a labyrinth of interwoven strands that shape the entirety of existence, a web spun from something finer than mere dust. exquisitely delicate, suspended in the ethereal air, poised to glide through your fingers and move with the grace of otherworldly tendrils. able to knot and twine, whirl, and stretch, yet they remain unbroken, eternally binding the rem.

some of them are thinner or more delicate. they are malleable. vulnerable. easily influenced if pulled in the right way. they are susceptible to corruption.

sorrow settles on his countenance, “i need to protect the dreaming.”

“by eradicating him. that's your answer for all?”

restlessness. distrust. both emotions intertwine, and you can only sense the unfamiliar essence of something fluttering within you, exploring this place and awakening once more.

“star…,” donghyuck appeals, but you're deep enough. “if he's not dreaming he's not a threat.” you try to convince him back, but his eyes shun yours as if they might cast a spell on him against his will. “don't do this to me.”

“asking you a favor?”

as the sun sinks below the horizon, so does chenle and jisung. a glow casts shadows on his angular features, his eyes encapsulating the sunset as he responds, “because you already know the answer.”

nightmare contorts and twists its form. donghyuck senses that something is amiss when he sees your features contort with what appears to be annoyance and fear. he tries to reach you, but the ground beneath his feet trembles, and before he knows it, the earth beneath your feet splits open, a boulder begins to collapse into the sea that now wets your feet.

his hands reach out to you desperately, you feel them almost touching, keeping you suspended from the abysm.

“let go.” donghyuck's eyes are covered with astonishment, “the dream is collapsing itself.” your voice manages to sound convincing over the sound of the raging sea swallowing the rock. he denies, and you discover that it's not distrust that moves him to keep you in the dream with him, it's panic. “i can protect them, but i can't protect you if you let go.”

for the first time you see hesitation cloud his eyes. uncertainty. wherever you're going, he can't. and it terrifies him.

you were there before. often. “i'll be fine,” you nod, and the movement causes your cheeks to soak wet. “it's just a dream.”

you manage to dispel the uncertainty just a little. enough for him to grant. “you'll have to wake him up,” he informs. his gaze shifts to your clasped hands before you can nod, and your heart prepares under your ribs for the imminent moment of your dream. you see him hesitate. something clouding his mind.

his lips part but you notice the words freeze in his throat; resignation tinges his features as if he is giving up something, before letting you go.

you are reduced to nothing before you expand again and your lungs begin to fill with air. your body only has a few seconds to adjust to the change of states before you go towards the sleeping figure of chenle.

his chest rises and falls, and your pulse resets in relief. wake him up is easier this time. his sleepy eyes open before closing again. the rem state restarting into a new sleep cycle. you're pleased with it before heading to the other dreamer but he's gone.

you look for him in the dark room, before you give up and your body unconsciously heads towards donghyuck's. “donghyuck,” you call him as your hands carefully shake him.

his hair is wet. “hyuck, wake up.” fear grips your insides and begins to climb up your spine when you see him arising.

your face get soaked, feeling his body tense up when you wrap your arms around him, feeling you self-aware of it before you sense his hand resting awkwardly on your back.

your body still has the memory of the night gone by. you must separate yourself from him to make sure that he is the real donghyuck, and not one of the tricks of your mind; when you look at him, his gaze melts into yours. and you have no doubt left.

your close without you being able to help it, “no more nightmares,” he pronounces watching you nod;  the world is already cruel as it is.

you're too tired to fight the tiredness, so you let yourself be deposited on the still warm surface of his sleeping bag. “don’t be afraid of me,” he whispers, and you think he's longing for it.

your hands meet his face blindly. donghyuck holds his breath the moment your fingers brush his lips.

sleep gains more ground, and your hands slide out of his face unwillingly, before he takes them between his.

“star…” he calls, but there's no answer from you.

the seconds go by more slowly, and you have to wait forever to feel his lashes tickling your cheeks. your lips being brushed softly. register in your memory.

you find donghyuck's slightly frozen gaze crumbling when a smile betrays you. “it'd be a good dream,” you say with your voice muffled in his embrace. you sense him nuzzling into you. “if i sleep with you?” he asks, surprising you for even remembering it.

the vortex, the sleepwalkers, his secrets, and your nightmares. all of them can wait, because everything takes a back seat that night. you no longer fear the dark, because you have known his eyes, and you can only feel warmth. an old worship.

“alright, then.”

( ✶ )

renjun plops down on the study table full of papers and coffee, turning cold. jaemin looks away from the book for a few seconds before going back into his reading as chenle is startled by the clatter of the tomes falling against the wood, casting a furtive glance at the boy before continuing to sleep and jisung appears running through the halls as he arrives late for the afternoon of study. everything goes back on track, but something's missing. he's missing.

you navigate oceans of time and hourglasses, listening to conversations that you don't feel like being part of, admiring the perfect picture that makes up their figures trying to solve puzzles and mini-games, once plagued by terrors, forgotten in the back of their minds. because dreams last, nightmares don't.

“what are we looking for, exactly?” a deja vú sentation even though you remember it. back in the library, jaemin is too busy gazing at the bookshelf to pay attention of you staring at him before pronouncing with certain doubt. “the dreamcatcher.”

jaemin looks at you with some amusement, “having bad dreams again?” you shake your head absently under his gaze. “having any.”

where did your nightmares go?

the nightmare sorter possesses a dark and mysterious power. what were once comforting and pleasant dreams for chenle were transformed into terrifying nightmares. for him, his safe haven was always a dream of the infinite sea, where calm waves and the endless horizon filled him with peace. but irony loomed over his mind, as his worst nightmare involved precisely what he loves the most: facing his own death amidst the waters, a victim of the depths that once provided him solace.

in jaemin's dream, his greatest desire has always been to be everywhere, to experience every corner of the world and absorb every possible experience. but the nightmare sorter toyed with his wish and paralysis became his worst enemy, and being trapped in one place tormented him.

after discovering that jisung had been breaking down sleep barriers to dream about his best friend, he barely spends time with any of you. chenle hasn't dreamed of drowning anymore, but the cost of that is mourning jisung's absence. and you can't help but feel responsible for that.

as these dreams turn into nightmares, you realize that space, in its vastness and mystery, has become the recurring theme of your nighttime fears. you didn't know you loved space so much until your nightmares of falling into the void turned into a journey among the stars.

what was his? vanishing? losing track of time? has he ever tell you?

you're afraid to know the answer. you extend the time of acknowledgment and ignore it as you grab your things in a hurry, hearing jaemin's short good luck when you go out in search of him.

you fear that he has vanished again. you fear having to wait another eternity. you fear that everything will go bad. as your pulse ticks an hourglass in countdown, you try to recompose your runaway heart, hoping that so will time, slipping through your fingers. eternity has always been cruel to you, so do knowledge. time is never enough and you've taken so long, so long to realize it, that you're afraid it's too late.

you've always known where to find him.

you lose the memory of how you end up in front of him, and you're aware that the time you've taken hasn't been kind to him.

“you came.” maybe, just maybe you knew all along because he was calling.

“i know.” but not in the sense of always knowing what the other person has said. to recognize a spoken fact. to gain knowledge. no. to know. you now do.

how the cosmos is his most precious asset. the thing for his entire existence.

“let me look out for you.”

“my narcolepsy...,” he appeals. now you can see him. you've always been able to see him for what he really is and that terrifies him.

the night of the vortex, he was afraid of being trapped in the ether. he was afraid you wouldn't wake him up. the nights he refused to sleep because the threat of being trapped in the rem kept him awake. hasn't he had a rest without fear?

“i know, and i still want to.”

he shakes his head. you terrifies him, and the more he immerses himself in you, the harder it will be to do what he has to do. dreams..., dreams are his most precious asset. the cosmos is what he most desires. there are a hundred million dreamers whose dreams he must collect, for they are as fragile as a crystal sphere, and on him depends the balance of the ethereal world, and that balance has been cracking since he began to let his guard down, for you.

yet he's so selfish, that now he sees you barely here with him, inside your head before turning around his bed and landing your eyes on his dark onyx, fixed on you. “go to sleep,” you say to him in a whisper, “i'll keep them away.”

even though it is dark, you see a flash of a smile. “what if i take too long?” he asks, closing his eyes as he faces the ceiling, as if he could see the moon from there. his hand stops feeling his heartbeat under his ribs, dropping it to the side of his body, inches from yours. “i'll bring you back.” to me.

“how will you know where to find me?”

even though it is dark, he can sense your smile.

“i'll always know where to find you.”

he doesn't say anything for a while, and for a moment you think he has already gone. his body suffers a small involuntary spasm as if struggling to stay awake for a few more minutes, before he rolls towards you and his breath combs loose strands of your hair. “come with me,” he says in a sleepy voice. you manage not to look restless when his fingers brush caresses on yours. your senses beat with the same intensity as your heart, and you fear that he can hear them by being so close. “where?” you wonder, stargazing at his eyes, “to my dreams.”

his words remain suspended longer in your head, resonating until they imitate your pulse, until they expand and get under your skin. a mist settles over your mind, and his voice reciting that invitation is diluted as a sedative effect that does not take long to take effect. there is no point in fighting morpheus. it feels like falling down an abyss and your fingers are squeezed harder between donghyuck's by inertia. you're falling, and falling. 

at first, you only feel the beginning of everything. you feel your heartbeats, you feel your fingers, you feel the place where you are; you are aware of yourself. your eyes record the world unfolding before you, evolving as you become more conscious, like a thinking being, and you know you are in the ether. more than knowledge, you can feel it.

and before you can register it, you plunge into the abyss. like layers, you see worlds and spirals passing in a blur before your eyes. your voice sounds strange as an involuntary sound of awe escapes you, gazing at the hundreds of thousands of golden lights adorning the realm. the existence of the whole being a stark contrast to what you usually see when you fall. so many dreams, so many people coexisting in one place, that you'll never manage to grasp or take them all in.

you feel it before you can see it. your body stops falling and remains suspended, and as donghyuck's face shines through the mist, you think: «not a stranger. friend, lover, enemy.» holding your hands, preventing you from continuing to fall. “let me tell you a story,” he finally say, his raspy voice resonating among the realm, “about the great fall.” seconds pass, or maybe an entire eternity, where his gaze reveals nothing, but you fear that yours might show something: betrayal, before his hands release you from yours without reconsideration, and this time you fall...

towards his dreams.

when you find yourself in that place, you feel as ancient as the stars themselves, and a profound comprehension of everything dawns upon you.

in the realm of divinity, there resided a god whose face remained under a veil. you fear that such beauty is only seen by worthy souls. a being so mighty, yet lonely, who found solace amidst the clouds, weaving worlds, weaving dreams. this god had a love for his dreams so profound that he willed them into existence. two catchers, gatherers of the essence, were crafted to shape the rem, threading benevolent dreams into the very fabric of each slumbering mind. and thus, the cosmos came to life.

you watch the universe unfold before your eyes, creating itself, evolving on the fly, revealing a story, and you're almost certain you can hear donghyuck narrating it.

the dreamcatchers executed their duties and responsibilities with unwavering devotion, protecting the dream world of their creator. the very essence of dreaming hinged on their meticulous craftsmanship, with golden dreams as their finest creations. yet, a peculiar injustice prevailed: they could bestow dreams upon others but were forbidden from experiencing their own. this rule kindled a deep dissatisfaction in the elder of the two. it gazed upon the world from its lofty cloud, bestowing dreams with jealousy, and in secret, it harbored a desire to reshape its reality.

its face, beautiful and eternal, reflects discontent. shrouded in jealousy, the dreamcatcher laments feeling such emotions. it senses the injustice every time it's compelled to bestow good dreams and envies the dreamers whose fate is to protect. its visage grows more withered as it lets these emotions swirl within, losing its luster as they grow to poison its soul. its once delicate hands, which once found solace in crafting shimmering desires, now clench into fists when it departs the serene realm and ventures into the unknown, into the vast universe still destined to expand. and it creates.

however, the dreams it planted in their minds transformed into something else, something it couldn't contain within. they turned dark, malevolent and seeped out of its mind into the universe. morpheus soon noticed that something was amiss. the dreamers had been plagued by dreams whose trail was as dark as the nighttime mist. he called them nightmares.

the dreamcatcher pleaded for its forgiveness, but as a great god, mighty and solitary, morpheus could only sympathize with the dreamers. he banished the dreamcatcher from the dream world, the very dream it had once loved with all its heart. thus, unable to create golden conjectures, unable to dream, and forever plagued by its own creations as punishment for what it had done, the dreamcatcher fell, and fell…

towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean.

there is a single door in front of you, and behind it, a bright haze seizes your eyes. your fingers brush against the cold knob before you pass through it. covering your eyes in reflex when a bright light scans you before everything returns to normal, and suddenly you are in a café, at night.

the lights are dim and warm, bathing the space where two dancing figures live. it is then that you hear the soft melody; familiar at the behest, as if you had worshipped it in another lifetime. they do not realize that you are there, observing in detail, because the boy looks singularly like someone whose features you never tend to forget.

“that's my favorite song,” you hear your voice say, but your lips remain sealed. “i know,” he answered, his voice muffled by your hair, and you could recognize that voice anywhere, in any version. “it reminds me of you,” you speak again, through the great hall. a version of yourself, close on the spectrum. you watch her look up until she meets donghyuck's and you hear him ask your other version: “what other things remind you of me?” with curiosity. “brown. and chocolate,” you said.

“mhmm...” the scene blurs. it overlaps with another one that occurred later that night. you keep hearing your voice but now you don't see yourself, you're seeing through. he's so close now, you can sense his warmth colliding against your body as colliding stars. “a teddy bear and a museum.” your eyes close when you feel him pushing inside, filling you with him, drinking his moans that he slowly lets out against your lips. “wood and trees. sunsets and sunny days.” your foreheads presses together when he spread your legs and bring them to his waist, rocking in and out in brief strokes, as his features contort into an struggled frown. “fuck... i'm so close,” he whines biting his lips that you kiss right away.

“milk and pearls. a field of grass and sunflowers, and horses running free.”

you sought his gaze, “so am i”.

your whole world shakes and you are short of breath when you are squeezed and spit elsewhere. you're in a cozy hall, but you're not alone. even agitated and dazed, you can hear it. the sounds he accompanies with guttural exhalations that cause your breathing to get stuck in your throat.

it is revealed before you his body scattered on the sofa, with his head pulled back while his wet and swollen mouth lets out gasps that you want to taste on your tongue. completely vulnerable, at the mercy of someone kneeling in front of him, tasting him. “what other things you can do with that mouth?” he whispers to you, now looking at you from above as his cock twitch in your grip. he rolls his eyes and lolls his head back when you bob down to the base of his girth, and back to the tip, circling the sensitive zone with your tongue. he exhales a chuckle, “fu—ck, star.”

star. as in you. this dream, this particular dream doesn't feel like the others. the others looked real, a piece of collective memory of something greater. a collection that crossed barriers and universes to meet in one place: his head. but why don't you have access to it? why is this the first time you have witnessed them? and is this dream his, or is it yours? before you can take registration you are wrapped in an ethereal mantle, turned into nothingness and returning materially elsewhere.

a party.

you see a version of yourself being dragged by donghyuck away from a boy with puppy eyes and someone else whose gaze shine so brightly that he seems to contain the starry night of that evening in his eyes. “i can find my way out on my own, cretin,” you hear you hissed at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. “you are a jerk. i want you to know that.” you kept ranting as he led you both to the exit, “you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you,” you blurted out, seeing that they were past the exit.

“the exit is that…”

“shut the fuck up,” it seems like a deja vú now, when his eyes finally look at you, becoming a witness and not a watcher anymore. “what is going o...?” you say, before he interrupts you, “what were you doing kissing mark?” he asks, fuming.

your laughter fill the air but it doesn't feel like you “you don't tell me what to do, idiot,” you finally say. “do what you want,” he muttered, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare began. “but do it out of my damn party,” he whispered. his breath tickling your cheeks.

“you're like this because i kissed mark instead of you?” the boy looks at you with surprise and concern in his eyes, staring at you eternally as you're now in control of your body. “w-what?” stutter, before you grab him by the neck and bring him closer to you, joining your lips with his.

the scene evaporates, and their bodies swirl like thick haze spilling into a dark room, where your bodies lay, intertwine. donghyuck's lips devours your mouth fervently with hungry kisses. wanting to appease a long-held desire. wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions. his movements becoming erratic, clumsy, desperate. trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrusting into your hips in an unexpected movement. feeling his erection against your belly.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, until getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, legs wrapping around his waist as a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire.

“say my name,” you whisper in his ear, “please.”

he towers over you, in all its glory, flexing the muscles that jump under his smooth cinnamon skin. looking at you affectionately with his brown orbs, you can't help but soften you as your hand goes to his cheek, urgent. “yn,” he pronounces.

his voice has always caused you to have mixed feelings, but this time something was missing. it wasn't his voice. it was him. someone else's donghyuck. of some version of you that you wish you could be. better, kinder, less broken.

his lips deposit a kiss on your wrist. brown locks tickling you in instances before wrapping you in his warm gaze, full of cherish that in some inexplicable way has traveled through entire cosmos and has been shared, passed and given to each one of them, to look at you the way they looked at you in every parallels. but you can't stay with him.

“i promised him i'd find him.”

“who?”

“my donghyuck.”

how much time passes, in which you are nothing and everything? in which you see yourself in all your versions, while you vanish like sea foam and slip between his consciousness.

crossing the limbo that inhabits the cosmos in its search, you find the blurred line that separates this world. just a fragile and brittle barrier that houses the dense core of nightmares, containing the thick essence of terrors trapped, far, far away from his dreaming. nightmares from all places, collected from all the sleepers trapped in the one place he thought they'd be out of the reach of the dreamers, in his little ether, having to carry them, for how long?

there is no way to see through it. your breath condenses in the air between as the black mist lashes against the barrier, before stirring until it petrifies again due to the low temperatures. darkness and shadow reigning at the touch of your fingers, its eerie dance a mimicry of something unsettling, moving strangely, as if imitating…

“a black hole.”

your dream. your nightmare. your taciturn lover.

converted in front of you into what you fear most, having self-consciousness to be able to see within, taking your deepest fears and making them its own. the tick essence moves when you touch the barrier. it contracts against itself before evaporating and vanishing into nothing, forming a wormhole where you can see through donghyuck standing on the other side.

your body reacts on its own.

your hands sting when they impact against the cold frozen glass that eats the skin of your palms. “donghyuck.” it's too cold there. your breath condenses in front of you when you call his name, the awakening of knowledge when you notice it comes from the other side. cold, vast, arid. “donghyuck!” the shadow retracts, the haze disperses, and you know it's him. however, it gives in immediately and the dark essence regains strength. it has a will of its own, and you're terrified to know that it has more power than you think. a glorious creation out of control, impossible to contain.

you despair with every passing second and your efforts are futile. breaking the glass is not possible. You're afraid you're not really there. unable to alter the ethereal world, you are just a projection in the space.

your mind races at a thousand revolutions, quickly grasping what that means. you look into the darkness, and the darkness seems to look back at you, before it seems to call you to it, and you respond by becoming more than dust.

your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness as you stir in your dreams. present, not present. materially, fleetingly. all. nothing. before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. you blink adjusting your sight just to watch a small figure at the foot of your bed.

“mommy.” it takes a while to get used to the environment, completely dizzy and confused, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright the moment you sense him whimpering. “jisoo, sweetheart...” how do you know his name? how are you so certain that you know him, taking him in your arms and comforting him as if you were made created solely for that purpose. to protect him. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers.

you remain silent, stroking his back and hair, lost in your head. with the feeling that you're forgetting something. you look over your shoulder and only find the space next to you empty. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

jisoo stands still in your arms as his words linger in your head, echoing in every recessed corner of your soul, gnawing at your insides, and you can't help but feel devastated. you want, you fervently desire to take his nightmares out of him, take them with you, carry them on you. you could use your own soul as a shield, if it meant he never knew that sorrow. “what was your nightmare about, darling?” you whisper in his ear, promising to seek for it in every corner of the cosmos, until it is reduced to little less than nothing.

his little deer eyes glow in the dark like two shiny stars, bright. his sweet little voice speaks, and all your nerve endings tighten so tightly that it hurts when he pronounces, “about you.”

the room fades away, and you're unsure if it's by your will or that of the terrors. someone screams in the distance as your eyes remain closed, reluctant to look further, all the while sensing that your fear is no longer yours but belongs to it. how can it know? how is it so aware? the space grows cold, and you huddle against it to keep its cold fingers at bay, but it envelops you in its arms, and grief and despair settle in your stomach as it takes you with it. it smells of night, of a sky stripped of stars, of endless darkness. you feel a certain comfort, a certain familiarity. the screams cease when you discover it was you in the beginning, now reduced to barely audible sobs that find solace as it shushes you.

the mist solidifies, and you sense the change as your face now presses against a soft yet firm surface, feeling the weight of their arms supporting you. nightmare carries you with it, and your terrors dissipate. you hear a snort followed by a chuckle as you feel your arms wrapping around him, tighter. “tired of screaming, sweetheart? too bad, i'd rather hear them some other time.” their voice is like a liquid storm, like the nocturnal wind. it resembles nothing you've heard before; a night in wakefulness, but above all, it's not like his.

“there's a great feast here, don't you think?” he asks, feeling him permeate everywhere but holding you close to make sure you stay with him.  when you look at him, vague memories start to take shape in your mind, like fragments of a forgotten dream. an uncomfortable feeling envelops you, and recognition grows, crystallizing into a solid image. you've seen this figure before, in the alley, amidst darkness and shadows. you vividly remember what he did to those men, the terror that emanated from him. “time to wake up.”

you're on the verge of letting him take you along, on the verge of allowing yourself to wake up.

“no!” your voice comes out stronger than you expect, causing the nightmare to recoil and look at you with subtle surprise. his hair sways unrealistically like the waves of a sea entirely of the cosmos, and his head tilts back as he listens to you. “he won't mind. he's trapped.” it would be so easy to just leave, to leave him at the mercy of the night terrors. but you can't be surprised when you shake your head, and he shrugs, showing indifference, “your loss.” and vanishes.

the mist stirs as though it greets your return with eager delight. you willingly descend into the unruly tempest, offering yourself as sacrificial allure. donghyuck missed a crucial chapter in the tale. of how the nightmares rebelled against the nightmare sorter, an unceasing thirst for its very essence, an unrelenting, perpetual duty to purvey dreams stolen with a reluctant hand from dreamers, bereft of alternatives. all in the relentless pursuit of quelling its own terrors, to appease its nightmares and prevent them from consuming it.

the swirl of bad dreams roars around you, making your way through the indomitable, self-aware blackness. a creature created out of darkness. no vestiges of giving truce and claiming their new trophy. your trophy. a gold mine compared to the rest. golden dreams as its bearer. you can almost feel the hunger of your peers, awake. you can almost feel your own. the sensations that come back like poison clouding your judgment. it hovers over you almost imposible to see the light, calling you from the depths.

inside the matter is different. your body barely manages to stay on land, even your hair moves like the waves of a dark wave. above, high above your head, you observe his body disturbingly still, and your feet stop skimming the ground to close the space between both.

he casts a golden light almost extinguished. he sleeps where dreams run awake.

“hyuck.” his face seems to have aged a thousand years. your hands brush against his dull and lifeless features, and you are afraid that you are late. “hyuck, wake up.” the dark scenery reveals itself ecstatic, and a tingle rises up your spine as it falls into the realization of what it meant. “no.” it is too late. you've taken too long to find him, and nightmares have claimed him as theirs.

you have broken your promise.

he now belongs to us.

they have overpowered you. they've beaten you in numbers. that being who mocks you cannot be right. it's not; that conscious darkness belongs to you.

“i made you.”

“we are more.”

“no, you're not,” you reply with mockery, “you are what i tell you to be.” the voices fall silent, and the scent they emit clouds your sense of smell. disappointment. sadness. mourning. fear. “you're not here.”

the darkness disperses into a scream that echoes to the ends of the realm as you feel the warm wake of donghyuck's hand perching on yours. his fingers tangle in yours, just as his presence. his breath hits the hidden place on your neck when you hug him for an eternity. inmersed in each other.

“is this where you go, when you're asleep?” you inquire, helping him to get up. “i need to stay here as long as i'm need to,” he explains, too distracted to let go of your hand.

“you shouldn't have entered here,” he adds, reproachfully.

“why did you?”

“i have duties,” he says with an uncommon tone. mortified. hopeless. imprinting a wild emotion, he enunciates every word with them, “i have dreams to take care of.”

“and who takes care of you?”

“i'm fine.” but he's not. when his eyes close to your touch, and his eyebrows gather in a restrained emotion pressing his cheek against your palm for more contact you know he's not. “i made a promise.”

“so did i.” as his gaze spills into yours, his lips burn for saying that he has been looking for you all over the universe. in all parallels. that he would never have dared to enter the tangle of nightmares if he had not believed you were inside it. that you weren't the only one who fell that instance, lost now in the eternal realm, because he followed you. but he keeps it to himself, and instead, he lets himself be carried away by the cooing of your touch, by the softness of your voice, telling him to go home.

as the ethereal shroud unfurls from around you, you're unsure whether mere hours have passed or an entire eternity. you feel the world spin, and it takes a significant effort to pry your eyes open. despite having slept, you're weary as if a thief has stolen your sleep. “the effect will linger for a bit,” you hear his drowsy voice instructing, pulling you from your reverie. how long were you inside his mind? how many days have passed since you went to sleep?

“don't dwell on it too much. it's better not to know.” your eyes open slowly, reinvigorated by his voice rousing you from slumber. it's then that you notice his fingers tracing through the strands of your hair.

the line that once stood wavering is now too blurred to tell when it was crossed, an eternity ago, as you inhale the comforting scent of home that emanates from his body, cradling yours. “how did you do it?” you hear yourself ask, too exhausted to feel intrusive. the dream you now cradle like a relic, forged by his golden threads, turning the darkness into something less than a place where the stars would shine brighter. you sense his chest vibrate as he makes a brief sound in his throat, a sign that he is listening despite being more in the realm of dreams than there with you. “i've known you since i was born.”

he watches you with a multitude of suppressed emotions as you ascend his body and hover above him, your hair cascading like the nightly cloak that always envelops him when he's lost in his dreams. his gaze weaves stars and conjectures as he forms two crescents while smiling with weariness, and longing clouds your judgment.

“how did you know where to find me?” he asks.

as though the constellations themselves had liquefied, trickling into his gaze, your responds “i've known it since i was born.”

your lips spill your essence onto his in a cautious yet passionate encounter. the world recedes, and all at once, the kiss assumes the flavors of countless others, a collective memory. and yet, his lips are the only ones you've been craving all along. your heart beats with a more deliberate cadence, mirroring the unhurried rhythm of the universe as his hands echo the gentle contours of your face feeling his lips parting slightly upon yours, each kiss becoming deeper, each kiss becoming eternal. your mouths unite in the obscurity, an unceasing communion, causing time to unravel and elongate until the boundary between you and him becomes an indistinct, boundless continuum.

donghyuck deposits you back into the comfort of his bed, descending on you until his body is mated to yours. lips and teeth taste your mouth. the elixir of liquid stars savored on your tongue. you cling to his body completely drunk on his longing-flavored kisses. hands tangling in his hair pulling him closer to you, mouths merging in a metamorphosis of tongues and gasps, willing to safeguard each other's sigh rather than break the kiss for air.

his tresses tickle your cheeks, his eyelashes caress your cheekbones and his hands have not left your face. you fear you are being devoured with each kiss deposited on your lips, with the taste of his tongue on yours. you fear that you could become nothing.

you feel his body melt over yours. a gasp leaves his lips extinguished in your mouth as your hands venture down his broad shoulders and arms, firm yet delicate. you hold your breath as his body moves over yours, taking your hands in his above your head as his hips sink against yours. he presses down, rocking against you in an involuntary motion while still kissing you. “star.” his voice wreaks havoc on you, causing a pit to appear in your belly, pushing you down.

clothes begin to get in the way and become scarce. his fingers leave trails wherever he roams, your chest, your belly, until they hover around your legs, touching the inside of your thighs as he drinks your moans from your mouth, bristling your skin. feeling his silky chiseled body move over you, mingling with yours, permeating every corner of you with his presence.

your breath catches as you hear him growl as he rolls onto the bed, pulling away from you. your body burns in the places where he no longer touches you, your lips burn in protest against his.

“what is it?” his shortness of breath mingles with the anguish that assails you when he doesn't speak to you.

meditative, lost, tormented. he's never only in one place. he's everywhere. scattered in other heads, aware of all of them. in vigil. and sometimes, they don't leave him alone, unable to get rid of them, destined always to carry the conscience of dreams, and so, nightmares.

as a struggle takes place in the universe where he's conscious, your hands cradle his face and for an instant, “focus on me.” he hides like a moon phase in the hidden place of your neck, drawing you to him like an anchor that keeps him with you, pulling you onto his lap, you end up sitting in each other's embrace. “hyuck, stay with me.” until his worries become as small as an applesauce that you can push away from his shoulder.

until he finds his way back to you.

and so his mouth.

entangled. a jumble of gasps and glances that seem to repeat each other's name. a religion founded on his lips pressing against your collarbone and his fingers burying themselves in your waist. sucking the bristling skin of his shoulders, the soft skin of his neck, the sweet and comforting scent of his lips, drinking in the other's panting as his length presses against the hot zone of your core. lifting you above him as you feel him venture beneath you, as you feel his fingers wrap around your girth and guide it to brush against you, as you feel yourself spreading up, giving him room as you lower yourself onto it all the way to the base.

both of you furrow your brows at the pleasurable sensation. sensing his member fit snugly wrapped around your silky walls. the hole tingles from you and you bite your lip, feeling full and blissful as donghyuck's hand presses into your belly. you arch involuntarily pushing back your hips. and consequently, moving forth over his lap.

a hiss departs from his lips before his features relax and a pant follows your name that you taste from his mouth open. 

the sounds emerge and fill the room. the touch of your bodies mixes with the gasps. the stars in the sky mingle with the stars in your eyes, and your mouths speak each other's name between kisses until the vast infinity remembers you. little moans and whimpers that you bite from his mouth, that die in yours. precious, like him. tinged with adoration, with need. your body vibrates and enjoys his beneath you, burying itself with each thrust of your hips, stealing your breath as his find yours first, touching the sweet spot inside that give their purpose when your head tilts back and it is impossible to keep your eyes on his daydream eyes.

the firmness of his erection presses against your walls as you rock back and forth, stiff but so soft it slides out before your fingers guide it back into you. you revel in his face fading into the raw pleasure that splices his body. pink lips and bitten a thousand and one times by your mouth. silent guttural sounds you've been deprived of for an eternity.

enernity. eternity.

the world is shrinking. it ends. it resurfaces in the same way that your exhalations soak your mouths. in which your hands are lost in his silky hair and his in your intimacy. suffering a spasm when his graceful fingers begin to trace circles in the swelling of your clitoris, and his warm tongue wraps around one of your erect nipples.

no needs for words. there isn't a language yet invented that can encapsulate the feeling the way your mouths do, nor another way to talk than your eyes, gazing at each other.

you comb his hair, untangling dreams from his head, drugged in the delight of his touch to the beat of your hips riding him. the silky sounds of your dilated pussy coating his cock, ramming completely enraptured by the sensation generated by the liquid sound of your ecstasy sliding and lubricating his length, feeling it hit the soft wall inside you when you go down completely and begin to ride him with short strokes that he controls with his hands on your waist.

you try to suppress the unconscious sounds you let out every time he sinks into you at his pick-up pace accompanied by the liquid splash of your crotch lubricating his cock. donghyuck notices the struggle that blurs your gaze just by looking at you.  “keep doing like that, precious,” he exhales and your hands go to his on your waist, suddenly dazed by his mere voice. “mm-hm, like that.” his voice cuts off at the end of the sentence into a strangled vowel when your insides squeeze around him in a spasm.

you squeal and hold tighter on his hands sensing your whole insides glow. “baby.” the hole in your belly expands and shot euphoria through your bloodstream, and donghyuck holds you closer, til you can hear his heartbeat, or is it yours? a desperate sound leaves your mouth parted open as your legs go numb and your mind spreads in the space. and his grip becomes tighter, “h-hyuck.” your body jolts back and forth along his length buried in your walls and a tingle bathes your limbs. and as the sensation expands towards the edge of the universe, and the stars spills into you as he lets out your name caught between one last exhausted moan, and you fall, asleep.

and it happens. all at once. at the same time.

the memories you've been deprived of as punishment. to be completely alone in the vast infinity, now filled with extracts of essence collected from different places from a shared conscious of you, in all alternate universes with his presence. feeling completely comforted that there are other stories, where everything is simpler, where love prevails in most of them. where there are a thousand and one scenarios where you and donghyuck always manage to find each other.

this piece of consciousness that was long stripped of you, as if morpheus knew that leaving you alone with your own nightmares wouldn't punish enough, he also took away your memories with donghyuck. he let you forget him and distrust him, and you couldn't conceive which part of the punishment was worse: to be the one who forgets, or to be the one who is forgotten.

it takes you a while to get used to the uncovering of memories from a collective memory. as you are now aware of everything around you. and yet, the dilemma of whether it's a dream or a reality still remains.

“dream?” you ask him, so close to his face you can see his moles forming a little constellation. your little constellation.

“dreamlike.”

you bet his dreams taste exquisite but his lips taste more so.

( ✶ )

you feel it before you can hear it. the change in matter that floats around you. join in total alertness, while you continue your work as if you don't notice the way your hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. humming a stray song while trying to sharpen what your subconscious tells you to pay attention to, but only a fraction of a second has passed, and the intruder is gone again.

he's been coming for three nights now. at first, you felt something detach from your chest, the absence where it once was now with a hole that threatened to eat itself. a silky, cold sensation that slips away into the starless night. you can't help but think it's due to a collateral action after donghyuck showed you the dreaming, and stole you from his embrace that never failed to rip you from morpheus, so you could rest on his instead.

your steps take you back to the cozy room and to the tangle of legs and sheets in which you had managed to emerge victorious a few hours ago. something flutters in your chest as you watch him sleep peacefully, oblivious to the anguish that grips your insides as you imagine this same scenario without you. sleeping, trapped in the ether. you're not capable of aging, you doubt that you're not eternal, but time has always been your rival. and while he sleeps, time narrows, expands, moves.

all this time he's been away, he's only been asleep. and you don't find anything sadder than that, you don't find any comfort in knowing it either. because without him, the cosmos protector, dreams run wild. affordable, manipulable, fragile. tender, like the soft skin exposed by his sweatpants, golden as his touch. tempting, like his wet mouth, part open. vulnerable, such as the area behind his ears.

all this time, you were looking out for his dreams.

your lips sit on the warm skin of his stomach and it takes all your willpower not to venture out, just far enough away to go up to his chest and caress his collarbones. kisses deposited in the valley of his neck until you reach his cheeks.

“wake up.” the room stay still. you hold your breath.

before your eyes register the awakening. slowly coming out of the ether, his eyelashes fluttering with the laziness of someone who is still drowsy. you leave a chaste kiss on his cheeks, suddenly pink-tinged and find yourself doubting whether he's able to stay aware of what's going on with his body when he's lost somewhere else.

it takes seconds for him to recover from his trip to the stars, where he receives everything you give him: water, in case he gets thirsty, a half-finished sandwich and headache pills. you look at him with urgency as the sandwich is finished and you can't find his movements so endearing, especially when he grabs you by the cheeks and his lips leave a tender kiss on your mouth.

his body returns to the cozy nest that the sheets form with you. he kisses you urgently, eyes darkening at the sight of you, out of breath because, you had spent so much time fearing darkness when now it only reminds you of him. “how's the dreaming?,” you ask, cradling his face. “so fucking long,” he mutters before you're kissed again.

your body is trapped underneath his and you can't help but melt with every caress his fingers leave as he settles between your legs while slowly kissing you. lips splitting in a moan to make room for his silky tongue sliding into your needy mouth. your senses are wriggled in a bundle of sensations that explode after a long time without him. your skin crawls. and he slides his fingers along your stomach.

you're embarrassed that he knows how much you've missed him. how ecstatic you are just for a few kisses because you've been without them for a fraction of eternity. he suppresses a curse when you feel so silky, “so wet.” fingers smoothly sliding down your folds as his lips drift off to your exposed neck. your mouth opens in a silent gasp as you feel his digits move in circles in the swollen area of your pussy.

a sweet sensation forms there where he touches. you're out of breath. a smile forming in your lips that he tastes later with this mouth. your feelings are wired at the destructive kiss, melting you entirely. you couldn't resist the moans, coming from your mouth as a prayer that only he could fulfill. as your body twirled from his touch, wanting more.

“hyuck.” your stomach feels on fire. your whole body buzzes to his fingers slowly stimulating your clit. “keep saying my name like that.” your body arches involuntarily as you feel the embers come down to your crotch and slide into your legs, completely devastated.

dying moans as dying stars. needy. eager. your hands fisted in his chest while his fingers venture dangerously down before feeling them inserting inside.

his fingers expanding you as he adjusts them within your walls release a pleasant sensation that makes your eyes roll behind your eyelids. “so tight, star.” a hiss assails you when you feel your skin tingling the moment he starts to pump his digits in you, “i can't wait to fuck you.”

he exhales when your fingers travel to your clit. hands now touching while his are inside you. the brief touches of your skins cause a shiver to run through your entire body. his voice is ten times darker than before, deep and filled with raw desire, “feels good?” fingers curling gently while constantly stroking your sensitive wall. “too— good.”

you missed him. you missed him an entire lifetime. as his fingers wreak havoc on you and his voice tells you how pretty you are, your whole body reacts in electricity, shooting on your bloodstream, reaching your belly. “you take my fingers so well, mhm?” donghyuck feels the waves on his fingers still moving inside while you pass your high.

he lets out a hearty laugh when your fingers travel to his body, needily removing his clothes. you don't really care that he knows how much you crave him. how much your body calls his name. how much it hurts you to want him inside. he rejoices to see you undress him and take off your pajamas and panties yourself, how willing you are for him to fuck you.

he spreads your legs and enjoys the sight of your swollen and flushed pussy soaking his fingers.

you hear him moaning under his breath, “i want to taste you, baby. fuck, i need it so bad.” his words wreak havoc on your lower belly, and you find yourself squeezing nothing; you want it too.

he devours you completely, and your breath is choppy only with his mouth working miracles on your already sensitive folds. his breath hits the right area that makes your eyes close tightly, and exhale with difficulty, “you taste so good after i fingered you.” his tongue moves over the hard skin of your clit and you swear you're about to combust.

your hands tangle in his hair as the lashes of his tongue take your breath away. his warm breath flushes all over your skin as he opens his mouth and starts sucking gently. your throat feels pasty when a moan reverberates in your chest as you feel a sharp tingle in your belly. “shit,” you pant, feeling your stomach tighten and your whole body sinking into the mattress. senses going numb to donghyuck humming in delight against your skin before he feels your body convulse slightly, and quickly using his warm palm to keep your legs from closing when a sharp sensation rip you apart. “take it. take me.”

a strangled sound comes out of your mouth before you feel your body sink into violent spasms. the raw desire injected into your bloodstream is too much for you to process in one go, leaving you completely light and inebriated, tense and contorted under his heavy gaze, drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his acts on you.

something glows behind his dilated pupils when you recover your blurry sight. watching him hovering over you, you looked in his eyes, two dark orbs, consumed entirely by the pupil; a black hole that you wouldn't mind falling into.

a guttural grunt escapes his lips as he feels your fingers curl around his wet girth. you stifle a gasp as you feel it hard. hands moving up and down, stroking his dick as exerting pressure. feeling his delicate cock warm and soft, you gently stimulate it. donghyuck's head falls forward, and you bite your lip, delighting in the sight of his blushing penis, glistening with precum pearls.

“say that you want me,” he utters, “that i'm yours.”

words get stuck in your throat, you feel a rush of ecstasy when you guide him in, watching him being affected by you when he slides fully. “we belong to each other.”

you can only let yourself be carried away by the uncontrolled sensation caused by his cock deliciously entering inside. a sweet burn takes your breath away as you feel him so thick, settling inside you, pressing against your aroused walls. a tremor shakes your legs when he stands still for you to adjust around him; his lips are part open absorbing the way your nerves clenched around him, your fingers squeeze around the tender skin of his arms when you feel him push inward.

you feel so overwhelmed that your legs don't respond to your stimuli, completely, irrevocably, eagerly at his will.

a deep moan escapes from his lips. “you feel good,” he whispers as you feel him starting to thrust you. a hiss assails you, still sore from his fingers, “i'll be gentle.”

his mouth leaves moist kisses on yours half-open, unable to generate a single coherent thought other than the arcane pleasure that welcomes you every time you feel him sliding in and out, steady. sharply. “so good for me.” he adds in a moan, a hidden feeling of belonging while passionately pounding you: «just for me». “soaking my dick so g-good, taking me so good— oh,” he murmurs, twitching his face, “always wet and tight no matter how much i fuck you, huh?” he breathes heavily against you open mouth before he traps your lower lip in his teeth.

his tongue enters your mouth and makes you feel all the voracious desire he has to make you his, imprinted in his kisses, in the way his fingers bury themselves in your soft skin while his girth is buried into you over and over, leaving you breathless.

your voice, clouded by the euphoria that is unleashed in your stomach, can barely hiss with a deep groan “f-feels good.” your cheeks are wet, eyes under the haze of tears of pleasure that involuntarily shake you when he pushes against your intimacy. your eyes open only to take record of him, looking so hauntingly beautiful. holy. eyes clouded by the simmering desire in his dilated pupils as he admires you take his cock, letting out all these emotions he feels at the same time in moans and grunts that delight your ears every time he sinks into you.

“mine.”

“always—, my yn.”

a pride catches you knowing that you are his.

his tongue enters your mouth and makes you feel all the voracious desire he has to make you his, imprinted in his kisses, in the way his fingers bury themselves in your soft skin while his girth is buried into you over and over, leaving you breathless.

a demolished feeling shaking your body under his heavy gaze when he wraps his arm under your thighs and brings them to your ribs. your whole self fixed in the way he fucks you deeper. “o-oh shit,” you shudder. “you're d-doing so good.” he hovers over you with an exhale, “soaking wet for me,” pressing you against the mattress, his dick hammers your cunt sharply, causing your eyes to slam shut. your drenched pussy accompanies his thrusts with the lascivious sound of your arousal coating his girth every time it goes in and out. feeling his warm breath in your ear as he slams his pelvis rhythmically into you, taking exhales with each thrust. “oh— fuck.” it feels so good. he feels so good. you're a whole mess of thoughts, speechless. a jumble of gasping and sobbing and yet the only thing that comes from your mouth is his name in your shaky voice.

“you're making me feel so— good calling my name.” donghyuck opens his mouth to let out a wild growl that causes your legs to tremble. his eyes are two pools that take you to the abyss. blushing with labored breathing, your neck burns when you are aware that it is because of you. feeling your swollen pussy throbbing with sharp pleasure, which tears your belly at him constantly hitting every nerve in you.

his expert moves shift your body with ease. he puts you in different positions that cause screams in you. completely carried away by the crushing of his pelvis pounding you, rough and raw. “hyuck!” a pant of surprise assails you at the simple thought of him shifting you in a heartbeat before your thoughts get messy and lose the thread when you sense the warm feeling of him inside you again, stretching you with smoothness every time. arching your back as a silent moan burns in your throat.

you want him closer. you want him to shatter you.

your fingers tangle in his hair as you feel his hands hug your waist. your legs roll up slightly at his hips, pelvis suspended inches from the mattress.  you roll your eyes when you feel him still erect slipping inside you and pressing his tip against a weird but delicious angle. you're completely numb. your fingers go to the base of his penis, wetting your fingers with the creamy ring that formed the constant hammering on you. staying in the same position when you feel him insert it all the way in, the rubbing of your fingers sending shivers down your spine.

“just like that, baby,” you whisper under your breath as donghyuck penetrates you again and again, slowly, passionately, hissing under the pressure of your fingers wrapped around his circumference. “fucking me so g-good.” you feel his body buzz with each powerful stroke. every second he takes between thrusts, feeling it the pleasure runs through his length.

his mouth lets out a beautiful strangled growl. so possessed, so bewitched. the purest ecstasy fluttering in his eyes as he sees the point where your bodies meet. you're imprisoned under his heavy gaze drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his actions on you while sharply stroking his dick in and out, watching your tits bouncing with each move.

“so gorgeous. you're so gorgeous.”

moans died and were reborn into stars twinkling in your vision, leaving in their wake your broken body as donghyuck turned up the intensity. his movements rougher by having more stability, bending you until your thighs touch his hips and your head lolls back into the mattress.

“let me fuck you right, star” his unwrapping thrusts drove you to edge of your sanity. a silky-smooth feeling filling your mind, the melody of your voices, a feeling of delight took root in your abdomen, tightening, wanting to be released from you.

you clenched and grithe your teeth. your walls pulsating each time he comes in and out, steady, consistent while you're a mess of tears and sighs. “hold it, love,” he coaxes, and no matter how tired you were, it wouldn't be enough. there was no end to your satisfaction when it comes to him. you'd burn your body to keep him warm if he asks you to.

his deep thrusts feel delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. the space absorbed your essence as your stomach tightened and your back arched into a frenzy. flushed, he rocks his cock back and forth into you as he puts pressure on the grip that holds your legs spread when you try to pull away because you feel a lot, everything, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. letting out a whimper when you're overpowered by him.

“h-hyuck, p-please. i'm cumming.”

you're so close, a thousand emotions going through your mind. feeling him reaching out your spot, over and over, causing an explosion of suppressed pleasure. feeling the mixture of both arousal causing damp sounds every time he hammers you, joining your breathy moans in the steamy air between your bodies. “i want to cum with you.” his body tenses and your body shake, “tell me when, love.” you make a fist the sheets in your hands, arching your back closer to him. “f-fuck!” your eyes close tightly and your pasty throat let out a scream, legs closing around his hips as his thick grith grinds inside you until he brakes suddenly and his cock twitch wrapped by your walls before it starts to pulsate erratically along your nerves.

his mouth leaves a trail of bites and kisses down your stomach until it goes up your chest. he stays still inside you until you stop pulsating around his cock coated in your arousal, and then, he slides out before he pumps it back and forth a few times more. your body jolts and vibrates as he finishes covering your body with marks from his lips. his hands tangle behind your waist, drawing you towards him, leaving your legs to fall sore around his waist.

you feel his cum slide along to his cock when he pulls it out. breath bathing your face when you join your foreheads and catch your breath. delighting in the full sensation left by your bodies together, intertwined, merged into each other. a gentle caress brushes your tummy when he draws circles with his thumb. pressing a kiss on your shoulder as he drift down. mouth replacing hands, caresses turning into kisses. you sense him fixed on your intimacy before he lifts from the bed.

“hyuck.”

“right here, star.” you feel coming back again, a slight touch in your body, and him disappearing again. you don't know how much time has passed till you come back to your senses, in a bathtub, drunk and sleepy. “tired?” he says, suddenly blushing. “mhm.” your eyes close involuntarily, but you open them again when you feel his mouth pressing against yours. “sorry,” you say hesitantly, taking notice of his messy hair traced by your fingers and his neck marked by your mouth. he kisses you softly, exhaling when he feels your hands on his nape, bringing him closer. “aren't you coming?”

“i wish i could…” but he's been asleep for so long. his life paused while he was away. you can't expect him to leave his life aside just so you can have waking moments with him. “don't think that.”

you laugh.

“think, what?”

“that i want to be somewhere else but with you when i'm awake.” you deny.

“i love being with you while you sleep,” you assure him, “you don't owe me anything.”

“jisung is out there.” he murmurs. “would you be okay for a few hours?” he wants to know.

you don't know if you have to tell him about nightmare. he's never posed a real threat, but not having him with you can't mean anything good. you've been cautious, hoping that next time he'll stay longer, allow you to put him back in the empty place of the small cosmos where he belongs, but he remains just as cautious, and his ephemeral visits only bring with them the promise of being able to consume golden dreams.

golden dreams that you've been watching while their wearer is vulnerable.

your fingers run their moles over the golden skin of his face, gliding down to his neck where the constellation continues. you nod absentmindedly, soothing yourself with his now bright eyes.  “something's wrong?”

his eyes are worried, and you see him watching you more closely to find out what's troubling you. “it's just... it must be tiring. lonely,” you correct later, “i wish i could give you dreams like you do with me because... it must feel lonely.”

his lips curl up with fondness. “it doesn't.” he muses. “i get to see the dreams of other dreamers, i can see the dreams of every version of me, and when i do, i don't feel so alone, because you are always there, with me.”

where you put this grief, this guilt, where there is a room to contain it.

you can't. there isn't.

“be careful.”

you watch him disappear through the bathroom door, his essence slowly fading into the light air as you sink your head under the water to chase away the evil thoughts swirling around your head.

warm water numbs your muscles stiff with worry. everything becomes silent underwater. even your head. as the seconds of oxygen run out, your mind clears.

jaemin has been studying rem for months now, if there's anyone who knows about this besides donghyuck it's him. you'll ask him about nightmare. there won't be need to involve donghyuck into this.

there a shift in the water, you sense a subtle change in the warm water wrapping you. your hands take a foothold on the slippery ceramic of the tub to get out underwater. eyes opening in a strange instinct, encountering nothing but darkness staying still above you, before it attacks you. panic takes hold as a viscous substance infiltrates your nostrils, constricting your airways in a suffocating grip. a coiling serpent of fear, constricting your muscles as it winds its way down your throat.

but just as it seems that darkness might claim you, the sensation of drowning vanishes. you burst forth from beneath the water's surface, gasping for breath, your chest heaving with the urgency of survival. your wide eyes search the water's depths, yet all you find is the undisturbed and tranquil surface, bearing no trace of the harrowing struggle that unfolded below.

you feel trapped in a whirlwind of emotions as you watch everything unfold automatically. your body moves on its own, as if it's disconnected from your consciousness. consternation consumes you from within, and you know jisung must be dreaming again, blurring the lines between reality and nightmares. and now donghyuck goes straight to it. your steps quicken, resonating like the racing pulse under your ribs as you glide through the bookstore's corridors.

no one pays attention to you; they’re either asleep in their table or too busy to watch the girl almost running as she turns in a corner. you come across jaemin standing in front of chenle’s sleeping figure at the table. his eyes dart away as if they've detected your presence, and a smile forms on his face. however, your eyes fail to see it because they travel towards the creature beside him, eclipsing the dim light of the bookstore with its smile. you feel ancestral panic inject into your bloodstream when you realize jaemin can see it too, “oh, this is jeno.” all the blood migrates from your face, and his smile widens further.

you see him take a few steps, closing the gap between you without being able to do anything about it, frozen in anticipation. his hand reaches out to you. “a pleasure,” he says in a husky voice. he's here. really, physically. “you shouldn't be here...” you whisper, causing his eyebrows to shoot up, showing his surprise. his hand rests on his chest, “i'm just helping a friend with his nightmare problem.”

his countenance exudes a sense of contentment, while yours surrenders abruptly to the bitter taste of defeat. you watch as he takes his place, engaged in casual conversation with jaemin, a scenario that strains your credulity. jeno assumes the mantle of an ordinary young man, laughter and jests flowing freely, a potent elixir of mirth that might, under different circumstances, have coaxed laughter from your lips if it weren't for the incessant pounding of your heart, staying alert to his movements. when his hands move suddenly, but only to pick up a pencil. when his body makes an unexpected movement, but only to settle into his seat. your breath oscillates in agony, measured in agonizing intervals just before jaemin goes for a book and leave you both alone.

a chuckle ripples through his chest as you guide him toward a desolate corner. “one of my dreams,” you hear him jest.

“stay away from him.”

“don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, my dearest,” he coos, his hand daring to cradle his chin, only to meet your swift rebuff and unyielding gaze. “i'm deadly serious, you... should not be here,” you insist, observing as he takes a contemplative pause, morphing his countenance into an unsettling neutrality that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. yet, the sight of his sardonic grin strangely lulls your unease.

“i've missed you as well... drinking dreams together…, being inside you.”

he takes your silence as embarrassment. fangs peeking through his lips, yet a hint of annoyance flickers in his nighttime eyes when he discerns the truth behind your silence. “doesn't work that way, mastermind," he intones, emphasizing each syllable as he gently taps his index finger against your forehead.

“what are you?”

“a thought, an invention, a dream.” he recites, coming closer. your steps take you away from him, a shadow stirs in his gaze, like a crow's wings, sending shivers down your spine. “are you afraid of me now, after all i've done?”

your brow furrows and his wicked grin widens even more. “why?” you ask confused by his intentions. you can't believe that someone wickedly evil has been saving you on several occasions.

“i owe you,” he simply say, “thanks to you, i exist. and... thanks to you, i am free.”

“i can do whatever i want,” he says with sly enthusiasm.

“you killed those men.” your voice sounds raspy and pasty when you speak. and he finds it, delightful.

he spills joy tinted in every word when he pronounces, “you did.”

the ground beneath you quivers beneath the gravity of his revelation, an undeniable truth crashing over you. “of course not.” but a sliver of doubt lingers in your mind. could you? would you? his enigmatic gaze descends to floor as if he could feel it too.

when his eyes find yours again, a fierce struggle unfolds within their depths. “or maybe someone else did.”

you get his implication,“he wouldn’t do something like that.”

a smile as sharp as a knife. “oh, you have no idea what things he’d willing to do to protect his little dreams.”

the ground quakes once more, and this time, you're certain it's not your doing.

“enough,” you declare, although you can't decide what you mean.

“i'm not doing anything, darling,” the subtle roll of his eyes doesn't escape your notice, yet your attention remains firmly planted on the floor. confusion knits your brow as you observe a puddle encroaching on the soles of your shoes.

your gaze traces the meandering path, eventually leading to the study table. chenle’s name becomes lodged in your throat as a deafening shatter assaults your ears; the shelves flanking both jeno and you teeter precariously. the library is about to collapse.

jeno's hands spring out toward you reflexively, but you deftly evade them and instead utter, “chenle.” there's a hint of reluctance in jeno's response before he resigns himself to approach the slumbering boy.

books start to tumble to the floor as the crowd erupts into collective hysteria. this isn't a dream. it's happening again. water splashes as you approach the table where jeno is trying to wake chenle with limited success. “this doesn't look good at all.”

another crash rends the air as the earth cracks, and the world shudders when a rocky spire erupts from the ground, puncturing the vaulted library ceiling. debris begins to rain down. “you don't expect me to carry him, do you?” he asks rhetorically.  “never, you're not strong enough.” a few seconds pass before your words have an impact. “okay, fine. mastermind.”

the water begins to rise, creeping up their knees and weaving its way through the books, meandering around the crystal spires jutting from all sides. the place starts to fold in on itself, morphing as it seeks an escape amidst the chaos and hysteria. the water climbs higher and higher along their limbs as the ceiling crumbles, revealing a sky filled with meteorites.

“keep moving, darling.” you hear jeno’s voice under your bewilderment. “this is…” not chenle’s dream. something morphed. this is his dream, but also yours.

not dreams. nightmares. they are taking possession while people dream.

“jeno.” your voice trembles more than you'd like. all those people, in the same state as chenle despite making a thousand attempts to wake him, remain ensnared in the realm as their dreams turn to nightmares and escape from the ether into reality.

your eyes dart to him when you receive no response, but you're met with the cruel revelation that he's gone. you sweep hastily in all directions in his search as you call his name, almost in desperation, too absorbed in the panic that paralyzes you that you barely register the marble figure sinking into the depths. the water reaches your chest, and it's only now that you came across the fact that you've long since ceased to touch solid ground.

you take a breath before submerging yourself, swimming down as the ever-widening expanse separates you further. his frozen, pale hand stretches toward yours, unable to make contact, sinking alongside chenle. a sharp pain explodes in your chest as you look at each other, his face trapped in eternal agony, as he vanishes into the depths, until only chenle and you remain, drifting in the endless expanse of the cerulean sea.

your lungs rebel, their desperate gasps clinging to the dwindling reserves of oxygen, while your outstretched fingers ache as if they could grasp the very essence of chenle. fiercely holding onto that lifeline, you initiate your ascent as your body falters beneath the relentless depths.

the world swirls in a dizzying frenzy. first, the embrace of the ocean's frigid depths envelopes you while your outstretched fingers ache as they grasp chenle, then the warmth of another's taking hold of you. in this tumultuous surge, you sense your very being's resistance against the relentless sea, as it compels you to expel the intruding water, your throat erupting in a violent symphony of coughs.

gradually, your ears resurface, attuned to the cacophony of a world that had been submerged in silence. amidst the crackling sounds of your awakening senses, chenle's cough reaches you.

you're too catatonic to initially register his presence, warming your insides, but once your being recognizes his, you wrap your arms around him and meld into him. donghyuck embraces you, and you blur your own fear of losing him with his. after an eternity passes during which it seems like you both don’t want to break each other's embrace, you become aware of the world falling apart.

“i thought i'd lost you,” you sob. your hands cradle his warm face, and his eyes tightly shut. you see his celestial countenance marred by fears as the stone where he placed your bodies begins to tremble. “jisung... what happened with him?” you ask.

his eyes finally open, wet with lament. “he's not doing this, star.” confusion roots itself in your stomach as a sensation tightens in your chest. “it's you.”

“the nightmares…,” he mentions while you find yourself slowly denying. an unwanted feeling winds through you, a presence you refuse to acknowledge. as he talks, as he accuses you for actions you cannot truly comprehend, delving into your consciousness that unravels your misguided decisions, compelling you to confront the uncomfortable truth unfolding before you. “you took them from me.”

despair creeps in, “so you could sleep.”

“so you could free them.”

you couldn't carry out such an act. it wasn't for that reason that you did it, yet you’re the only one who refuses to believe it. his shoulders slump under the weight of defeat, and you, you've lost your voice; all the things you’ve done, all the things you could’ve done, dancing in the space.

he seizes your daze to hold you tighter, and you feel it. every sensation that assails him with each rapid heartbeat. reluctance. fear. love. resignation. “i've been searching for you since you fell, my star,” his voice is tinged with sorrow, and you hear him sob. “i fell for you.”

boulders start to tumble into the deluge. the ground beneath you quakes as it crumbles away. “he vanished me from the dreaming until i was worthy once more. until i found the nightmare sorter.” your arms hang limp, feeling defeat coursing through your veins. every part of you burning. your heart breaking in tandem with the world while his arms continue to embrace you.

a sob overtakes you, “sorry for taking too long, my star. i would have loved to spend an eternity with you.”

“we're bond forever. our souls come from the same star. i'll find you again, in another universe, in other lifetime. and i promise i'll find you sooner next time.”

you look at him with nothing left inside you, consumed by betrayal, unwilling to do anything because your heart is broken. his dreams are his most precious possession, and he would do anything for them, just as you would do anything for him. “i love you.” he shatters when you shake your head. no, you don't.

you feel your body move under his influence, his eyes closing, unwilling to look. “look at me.” his face contorts in agony as he does as you ask.

the words burn on your tongue, “i would never have done this to you.” your feet slip off the ledge, and you make no attempt to hold onto anything.

the voracious pain in your chest tightens as you fall, numbed by the spreading malaise within you. not sensing at first the shift in the substance around you; how it becomes denser. your body shivers from the cold touch, so different from his warm hands. this time, he doesn't laugh, but you know it's him, enveloping you in his midnight cloak. you've been descending for a time without end with the ocean as your downfall.

but you never reach the bottom. he transforms your being like his, nighttime mist that dissipates into the darkness.

you are startled awake from your reverie. it feels like you've been dozing for a lifetime. in a dream you always dream of.

where you fall, infinitely. towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean. you don't know. you never know, because you never reach the bottom. pushed by a stranger. a friend. a lover. an enemy. a lost boy.

his gaze falls on you and catches you sneaking a glance at him; a lot of time has passed. “i think it's just you and me,” you say, his eyes as dark as two black holes capable of devouring entire stars, with secrets yearning to escape as if he knows something you don’t know yet.