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clubdionysus · 3 months

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[BAD DECISION #48] Bickering

warnings: an everything shower!! self control? what self control? mutual masturbation, a lil mean dirty talk from jk, sex toy (f), lots of flirting, lots of banter, important info for upcoming chapters

notes: last one for today, as im gonna update the wedding chapters in a cluster! <3

wc: 10.6K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

A creature of habit, is Jeon Jeongguk . He's proven it time and time again – the gym sessions that look identical to sets done the day before, how he always goes for the French toast at his favourite café and, more recently, the way he can't keep his bloody hands off you as soon as you're naked.

It doesn't come as a surprise, how he hooks onto your waist and drags you beneath the steaming shower with him, nor how his deft palms stroke up and down your skin as he greets you with a kiss. Mumbles into your lips how much he can't stand showers without you. Pouts when you pull away and grab your shampoo – but hums in complete satisfaction when you hand it over to him.

"Please," you simper quietly, wet lashes sultry, though the request is as innocent as could be.

It's a ploy, you see. A little scheme cooked up in that sparkly little brain of yours that Jeongguk loves so much. A guaranteed free head massage- because he's a perfectionist and constantly needs to be doing something with his hands.

If he gets them lathered up with shampoo, and adds the combination of it being your hair he's washing, and his desire to be touching you, it'll equal an excellent outcome for both parties.

It will also get his hands off your body, which you don't particularly want, but being naked with him is a dangerous game. He's not hard (yet), and so this is prime time.

He does as is requested of him, and sure enough, he gets far too into it. Ends up rinsing and repeating. Is taught about shampoo brushing, and the concept of an everything shower . Decides that you should have one. That you deserve one.

"They take an absolute age," you tell him with a serene smile, toying with his hands, chin pressed to his chest. Just out of the direct line of the shower, Jeongguk looks down at you, wet hair sticking to the sides of his face, damp skin glistening in the overhead lights. The light he basks in reminds you of your favourite steps of an everything shower – candlelight .

You tell him of your ritual - how you turn all the lights off and keep your phone out of the room with only candles as a light source - and his expression doesn't change. Doesn't contort in confusion, nor question your sanity, no. He's just as enamoured as he always was.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for, B?" He simpers, pressing a kiss to your lips. Oh, how he treasures you, and the fact that he gets to do that now. Does it all the time. Does it again. And again, and again, and a- focus . "You got a lighter?"

You always tend to have them in your bags from nights out – never know when you might need one, or when you might make a new friend in the smoking area of Dionysus – but your ritual doesn't call for such sophistication.

"Use matches for this," you tell him of your personal tradition.

"Well, then have you got matches?" he smiles, not caring in the slightest that you're particular about it. Likes it, in fact. Matches him and his strict routines. When you nod, he lets you go gently. Whispers, "Go light them, baby."

Despite the sheer number of times Jeongguk has been in your bathroom, he's never noticed how many candles you have in the room. They're on the windowsill, the shelves, the countertop. There's even one by the sink – a long candle wedged into an old wine bottle.

A towel loosely drapes around your body as you strike up matches, lighting the candles one by one. Jeongguk is surprised the steam in the room isn't causing an issue, but you do also crack the window open to funnel some of it away.

"Okay," you whisper, turning to face him. "Close your eyes."

He does as he's told, with no hesitation.

Dipping out of the room quickly, you flick the lights off, then re-enter and drop the towel. Get back to the shower with him. Hold his hands, and say, "Open."

There's something quite spectacular about Jeongguk's eyes and the galaxies he holds within them. You're not sure what NASA are currently up to, but you know for a fact they'd be dumbfounded if they were to ever see Jeongguk.

The warmth of the candlelight sparkles in his dark irises, as if stars are fighting amongst themselves for you to make wishes upon them – and yet it's when he looks at you that they really begin to gleam. Magnificent in their magic, Jeongguk's eyes are impossible to look away from.

"You do this like... a lot?" he questions, a little smile on his pretty lips, not even looking at the room. Only at you.

You want to kiss him; simply, and completely.

Instead, you nod. Bite your lip. "Like, every week."

"Y'know I've always wondered how you're so..."

"So?"

"So..." he struggles to find the word, but settles with, " Dreamy . Like, the way you carry yourself, B. You're just... You're a literal dream, and I always wonder how."

You know what he's getting at - that your little ritual is somehow responsible for, well, the rest of you.

It's no secret that it's not the most conventional of showers. Danbi swears you'll burn the place down one day. It's impractical and a nuisance, but it is enchanting, and that's all you really need from it.

You've never left a candle-lit shower feeling horrible. Even in the worst of your Seokjin era, they'd remedy your woes and help you feel slightly human.

While you had never believed they helped you to transcend human status, Jeongguk is certain of it.

He thinks there's no way he's made of the same stuff as you. He doesn't know fuck all about classic literature, but he knows enough to know that Emily Brontë got it all wrong (even if he doesn't remember which of the Brontës wrote Wuthering Heights).

He could consider stardust and atoms and what it really takes for a human to form, but none of it matters. He's stardust. He's atoms. He's clusters of cells.

You're ethereal. Intangible. Transcendental. A star, in its truest form.

It's a miracle you haven't blazed right through him - though the way he feels could be argued as a side effect of that very affliction.

Of all your little habits and rituals, this one is your most sacred.

And you're sharing it with him.

You're not sure why.

Cause you trust him, maybe, or potentially because you only ever want him to feel good, and know that this is a failsafe for you.

Or, most likely, it's because your candle-lit showers are yours . They've never been shared.

But with Jeongguk, it's different. You want to give him something of you that really will only ever be his. He's worthy of your ritual.

"Well, let's hope it makes you feel dreamy, too," you grin, arms wrapped around his waist as his palms cup your jaw and bring you closer to him.

He nods, a smile relaxing on his lips. "Already feels like I'm in a dream."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he swears, ghosting his lips against yours. His kiss, when it finally greets you, is slow. Patient. Calm. Missed, when it ends. "How did I get so lucky, hm? How is this my life?"

You could argue that you're the lucky one – and you no doubt will in the near future – but you're enjoying his display of adoration far too much to derail the conversation.

"You are a lucky boy," you tell him – 'cause he is.

Nobody sees the world quite like you; looks at him like you do. What he's found in you is special. Rare.

And he'll do well to remember it.

It's not that you love Jeongguk (even if you totally do and are just playing a game of chicken against yourself), but you've loved others before who were unworthy. Who didn't realise what they had until it was gone. Losing him doesn't bear thinking about, so you're putting worth on yourself. Making an asset of your mind, your body, your company. Making yourself too valuable to lose.

As if you ever need to worry.

"So lucky," he agrees. "What next? What's after shampoo?"

"I'm so glad you asked," you beam, before talking him through your routine.

The ritual took you a while to figure out. Had spent your early twenties as a low-maintenance girlie, quite enjoying the hot mess look, but definitely leaning more towards the mess side of the scale.

With time, you learned how to be high-maintenance for the sake of being low-maintenance, in a roundabout way.

It's still not a perfect routine – but you also still enjoy being on the hot mess scale, so it's no issue. You're more polished these days, even despite the glitter.

You'd lost yourself for a little while.

Are thankful to have found a beacon while searching for yourself. He never insisted on finding you, but helped light the way for your exploration. Now, he reaps the rewards of restoring a disco ball, as your radiance shines upon him.

He might not care for extensive shower routines (as if he doesn't have three shower gels going at all times, and designated towels), but he cares to learn yours. Knows that what you're sharing with him isn't just a little quirky thing you like to do.

This is how you unwind. How you reset yourself; your mind.

To be invited to witness such a thing, to experience it, is no small honour. It's huge. Monumental.

Trust, shared, in a way he doesn't think he's ever experienced before.

The weight of your agreement to not let things get too heated until five dates in is heavy on his shoulders. He doesn't wanna do anything to jeopardise that, but equally knows sex has been how he communicates his desperation for you. Without it, it feels like all these emotions are bubbling up inside of him, but he can do nothing about it. The pressure just builds and builds.

It's precisely why having this time without the physical intimacy you so often hide behind is essential. It's forcing you to be honest with one another.

Like when Jeongguk lets you shampoo his hair, and finds him mumbling, "I like this. Like this so much."

His eyes are closed, skin warm in the flickering candlelight, and there's a tranquillity to such acceptance of his feelings. Not only is he content with them, happy to sit with these emotions, and make room for them, but he's happy sharing them with you."Shampooing?" You hum, lightly teasing him. "Don't you normally shampoo?"If his eyes were open, he'd be rolling them.

Instead, he baits you on. "You're supposed to shampoo?"

"Ah, that explains why your hair always looks like shit," you smirk, rinsing his hair through.

"Fuck off, you love my hair."

"I think your hair looks like it belongs on your head," you correct (although he is right).

Jeongguk can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult, so he just laughs. Doesn't care to think too hard. You're right when you say your little ritual relaxes the brain.

While skincare is usually the step that follows your everything showers, part of you forgets tonight.

It's the same part of you that just can't stop staring at Jeongguk.

Towel wrapped around his waist, there's an arrogance to Jeongguk in moments like these; the effect he has on you, and how he knows just the right way to tweak his brow and say, "You're staring, Byeol."

You think anyone in your position would be. A wet, naked, Jeon Jeongguk all yours for the taking. Shameless in the way his head tilts, smirk lingering on his pink lips, he doesn't care to hide himself from you. Allows the muscles of his chest to do the talking for him: hard, rigid, and oh-so eager for your touch.

It's not the only part of him that shares those... sentiments .

Hidden by his towel, there's a bulge that you know is obscuring something far larger than it appears right now.

A small trail of hair peaks from the top of his towel, an inch or so beneath his belly button, and it makes you sigh, all hearty and wanton, desperate to see where it leads.

"So?" You reply with just as much arrogance, because you're not gonna let him win, even if you're going crazy looking at him like this. "Should I stop?"

He pouts. Shrugs. Sinks his thumb beneath the waistline of his towel. "Should I stop?"

There's no subtlety to the way you're looking at him right now. None whatsoever.

It's how he knows it's a lie when you say, "I don't care what you do."

If you didn't care, you wouldn't swallow back your desire in the way that you do.

If you didn't care, your lips wouldn't part, then meet once more as you bite down on your bottom lip.

If you didn't care, you wouldn't almost fucking whine when his towel is finally relinquished.

It hits the floor with a shallow thud; an announcement of his nakedness. It's almost like he wants you to stare. Wants you obsessed.

There's a mindlessness in the way his hand drops – not to cover himself, no, but to tug on himself. Stroke the firm length of his cock. Roll his hand down his shaft. Just twice. Three times, maybe. You sort of can't comprehend it.

But then you realise he's winning – and you can't be having that.

"Cute," you smirk. Look at him with eyes that are just begging for a challenge as you drop your towel, too.

And oh, he is just so cute. Looks at you like you're a Grecian statue; as if he's witnessing a Goddess making herself known to mere mortals for the very first time. It's no secret that he loves your body. Has buried himself inside it enough times for you to be certain he'd die for it.

"Cat got your tongue?" you tease when his reaction is written all over his face, but not on the tip of his aforementioned tongue.

He smirks now, too. Shakes his head, but not in denial – in adoration. "Wish it did."

His innuendo sparks a little something inside you – and given the fact Jeongguk can light you up like the fourth of July with the most innocent of remarks, it's no surprise that you consider just saying 'fuck it.'

Would it really be so bad?

Snapping yourself out of it, you nod towards your chair. Tell him to sit. He does.

Facing your bed, his legs are spread, cock hard. He knows he's in no position to tease, 'cause his need for you is obvious.

Perching up on your bed, you sit by the pillows. Are as far from him as you possibly can be. It's the only safe way to do what you're about to – and as Jeongguk watches you spread your legs and display yourself for him, he knows that he needs the distance. It's bad enough having to look at your pretty cunt without being to touch it, but if he could smell your arousal? And couldn't lick it up? Oh, well, he'd simply die .

"You're playing with fire," he tells you as your hand dips between your legs for his viewing pleasure.

With a small sigh, letting the touch travel through you, you laugh. Simper, "No, Gguk. I'm playing with myself."

"Fuck," he groans, watching with unadulterated interruption as you refamiliarize yourself with your own body. "Tits."

The command is brief, but enough for you to know to use your spare hand on your chest. Slow circular motions are used for both, your head dipping back, the beating of your heart getting heavier and heavier. "Feels so good."

"As good as me?" He husks. You rejoin his gaze. Are pleased to see him slowly stroking up and down his shaft. Is matching his timing to yours.

"Better," you lie, desperate to have him prove you wrong – but he won't. He's a man of his word, so even if you bait him out, he won't bite. Not really. Might have a little nibble, but you'll never sink a hook into him.

"Liar," he smirks, then deepens his gaze. Adjusts his posture as he touches himself. Gently toys with his balls, letting you have the full visual pleasure of his throbbing cock. "You just want me to touch you, don't you?"

You don't deny it.

"Look at you," he smirks, unadulterated sin written all over his angelic features.

"You already are," you tease right back, because you both know you absolutely should not be doing this.

"Wanna know what I see?" He asks.

The way he tilts his head back, almost looking down at you, gets you excited. Sends a shiver down your spine all the way to your toes. He looks like he's about to be an asshole - and it's all you want.

"Depends," you bait him on. "Are you gonna be nice?"

"Do you me to be?" He bites back a laugh. Knows exactly what kind of mood you're in. Are far less heavenly than you were earlier. In fact, you're hellish in the way you want him to misbehave.

You raise a brow. Smirk. "Not particularly."

God, if there's one thing Jeongguk loves, it's a challenge; and when it's you, naked and practically begging for him, he'll play to win. Will go all in. Toss his car keys on top of the poker chips. Will call your bluff. Aim for a Royal flush.

There is a small part of him that considers packing it in. Saying something about how you shouldn't be doing this. Behaving himself.

But it's a very small part.

Naturally, his brain ignores it.

Instead, he takes on a prowess. Looks at you in such a way you almost regret giving him permission to be mean - but all that dissolves the second his pretty mouth starts saying filthy things.

"I see a needy little slut that wants me to fuck her," he grits, palming himself with far more determination now that he's vocalising what he wants to do to you, even if he is acting like you're the only one who wants it. Jeongguk is paper-thin. Hold him up to light, and the word desperate would shine through. "Correct?"

"Incorrect."

"No? So you don't want me to touch you?"

"No."

"Don't want my fingers inside you?"

"No."

"Cute," he gives you a light chuckle. Nods towards where you're playing with yourself. "Baby look at how small your hands are. You really think you can make yourself feel as good as I do?"

"Better," you assert– as if you could even compare. The second he touched you, thanks to a God damn origami bird, you knew you'd never be able to come undone from the touch of another.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks. "They fill you as well? Get your pussy squirting like mine do?"

"Anything you can do, I can do be-"

"No you can't," he interrupts. "No one fucks you like I do, B. Not even you." Jeongguk nods towards your pussy. Doesn't look at you. Only looks at the mess between your legs. Husks, "That cunt is mine, 'cause I've fuckin' earned it, B. Now spread it," he grits. "Let me see what's mine."

Manners seem to be lost on him.

"Say please."

He laughs, but bites down on his bottom lip. Nods. Gives you what you want, 'cause he thinks he'll die if you don't give him what he wants. "Please spread that pretty cunt for me, gorgeous."

And who are you to deny such a request?

The way Jeongguk groans at the sight of you is nothing short of addictive. Primal, Jeongguk wants you in the simplest, most human of ways. Doesn't care for the outside world, or expectations, or whatever stupid deal you've agreed upon. If he was put on this earth for one thing and one thing only, it was to stargaze. He'll go blind before he stops. Even then, you'd be all he thinks about. All he wants.

He has to have you.

Needs you so badly it hurts.

He stands. Walks to your dresser. You pretend not to be mesmerised by his cock. When he reaches the dresser, it's his ass you pretend not to be obsessed with. He's just so toned. So pert. The gym is working wonders for him.

You know what he's doing. What he's getting. He's the only person who knows what hides in that drawer, after all.

Smirking when he pulls open your top drawer, you're somewhat perplexed by the fact he doesn't even ask permission. You don't mind. What's yours is his, or whatever they say.

As he turns, that black silicone rabbit of yours in his hands, you have to suppress a gasp.

"Cute," you hum, as if you're totally unphased by the sight in front of you. "You gonna fuck your ass?"

The way he looks at you is fuckin wicked. Sinful. Unholy.

The way he doesn't utter a single word as he walks to the bed, is even more so.

There's a darkness to him when he's like this; one that so heavily contrasts the light he so often is. You think that's why you like it so much. He bares all sides of his soul for you; is vulnerable, even in his dominance.

"Gonna fuck your mouth if you don't shut up," he promises, as if that would be a bad thing.

"I can talk for days, babe," you smirk. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

There's a sweetness to his smile as he looks down at you. So sweet, in fact, that you almost don't realise what he's doing as he lines up your toy with your pouty lips.

He tweaks a brow, and says, "open", then smirks, when you do as you're told. Curses, when your tongue flattens to accept it into your mouth. Groans, when your lips wrap around it as if it's his cock.

We shouldn't be doing this, his brain yells at him. You shouldn't be doing this.

But the way you look right now is hypnotic. He's in a trance. Can't listen to his own damn mind.

There's a hollowness to your cheeks, expert in how your mouth takes cock, even if it's a pathetic replica. It's far smaller and far less impressive than Jeongguk's, but it still gets the job done.

"Not so chatty now, are you, baby?" He teases, gentle in the way he fucks it into your mouth.

You hum something incoherent around the toy, and it makes Jeongguk's cock twitch. Hard and engorged, he wishes it was him inside you; wishes he could feel that vibration, your tongue, the back of your throat. Eyes wide as he deepens the toy, Jeongguk is careful not to outright choke you – but the way you're working your way down the shaft even without his movements confirms only one thing: you wish he was choking you.

He builds the pace. Gets you noisy. Mouth wet. Sloppy . God, he's just obsessed with everything you do, but the way you keep your eyes on his? He thinks he'll die .

It's only when your eyes get a little watery, toy repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, that Jeongguk pulls away. Leaves you panting, chest heaving, chin wet – and still, you look at him in that needy way that always begs him for more.

He drops the toy down beside you, and strokes your cheek. Is tender. Whispers, "Three more dates, baby. Three more."

"Then what?" You reply, just as quietly but infinitely more breathless.

"Then it'll be my cock," he promises. "You want that?"

Nodding, you don't even pretend to have dignity. You give yourself up for him at the drop of a hat. Now is no exception. "Want you so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he nods, then spreads your legs apart even further. Still standing by the side of the bed, Jeongguk has your body right where he wants it – and as he begins to rub the tip of your toy between your folds, he knows he can't be beside you for too long. It's just too tempting.

Slow as he sinks it into your soaked entrance, Jeongguk is almost surprised by how easily it slides in.

"Fuck," he mutters beneath his breath, your body writing from the welcome intrusion. "You're so wet. So wet, and so... Fuck. Take over from me, baby," he encourages as he begins to pump the toy into you. "Fuck yourself for me."

Shaking your head, you whine. "You do it."

"I can't."

"Why," you pout, as if it takes a genius to figure it out.

All of his willpower is being channelled into going against his human desires. You're naked. Wet. Wanting. Are practically begging for him to fuck you.

But if he fucks, he loses the inner battle he's having. Jeongguk hates losing.

Sort of hates winning, now, too.

Cursing beneath his breath, he pulls the toy from your pussy. Doesn't take his eyes off yours. Says nothing as he brings it to his lips and licks up the shaft of your dildo.

He's always been a slave to the way you taste and now is no exception. None whatsoever.

Which is why you really shouldn't be shocked when Jeongguk takes it in his mouth. Locks his eyes on yours, then lets them close for a moment while he pushes it deeper. Takes it all. Makes you fucking gasp, cunt twinging with pleasure at the sight of it. He bobs his head up and down the shaft of the toy, and cleans it of the mess you made – then withdraws it from his mouth with a pop.

Clenching around nothing, your pussy is desperate for him – but he simply stuffs you fullonce more with the toy. A euphoric buzz takes hold of your body as he fucks it into you, shivers running all over your bare skin. Pulling one of your hands to the base of the toy, Jeongguk finally steps away. Can't keep going. Feels like he's gonna keel over with how badly he needs you.

"Keep fucking yourself," he husks, retreating to the chair. "Keep fucking that tight cunt for me."

"Gguk," you whine – both because you need him, but also because you fear you'll finish far too soon.

"Do it for me, baby," he instructs – then softens his gaze. Looks at you with soft eyes, and a tender smile. "Let me watch you cum, gorgeous. Let me."

For all of his talk of dying, Jeongguk fears it. Knows what heaven looks like. How it sounds. Tastes. Fears he'll be stuck in eternal hell without you.

And so you give him a little death of your own; a promise that where he goes, you'll go too.

Though your eyes are closed, your head is full of him; his touch, his smell, his voice.

"Look at me, B," he implores. "Look at me when you cum."

"C'mere," you nod down towards your spread legs – and while he knows he shouldn't, he can't help but move closer to you. Gets on your bed, between your legs. Sits on his heels. Doesn't dare get too close, 'cause he knows that you both want him inside of you.

Right hand tight around his cock as he jerks himself off over you, the other strokes down your thigh. There's a carefulness to Jeongguk. The desire to perform well, yes, but more so the need to keep you satisfied.

"You're so pretty, baby," he whispers, and there's something endearing about the way he's literally looking at your pussy as he says it. "You were made for me."

Jeongguk thinks it applies to all aspects of your body – brain included – it's just that he's currently enthralled by your cunt; the way you sound, taste, feel. Can never get enough. Craves you, constantly.

"That's it, Byeol," he encourages as your body begins to writhe. He knows the signs by now. Is jealous of the toy that's inside you. Knows your walls are throbbing, desperate to milk a cock, much like his cock is begging to be milked – and the deprivation is only making you want each other so much more.

"Gguk," you whine, desperate to reach out for him.

As if he knows that you want something – anything – he presses the hand that was on your thigh down on the cute little tummy of yours he loves so much, and helps to deepen the sensations you're experiencing.

He lets go of his cock. Doesn't care about his own orgasm. Doesn't give a shit. Knocks your hand to the side. Take's dominance over the toy that's currently keeping you full and begins to fuck it into you at a pace you wouldn't have been able to do yourself.

The pleasure that comes with his movements is only taken to new heights when he flicks the switch at the base, and gets it vibrating inside you.

You always could have turned it on yourself – but he put it inside you. If he wanted it on, he would have turned it on, much like he just has.

Like he says, your pussy is his . You'll let him dictate the pleasure it receives in moments like these.

The pressure of his hand weighing down on your tummy and the speed he's building sends you reeling. Gets you gasping. "Gguk-"

"I know, baby. I know. It's okay. You can cum, okay? Please cum."

There's an urgency to his request; a need to watch it happen. There's no greater gift, he thinks, than watching you orgasm. Knowing that he's the reason why? Oh well, it makes it so much sweeter.

Still rubbing circles on your sensitive bud, there's an overwhelming need within you to come undone but you're holding out. Don't want it to end. Don't want it to stop – but fuck .

It's too much. Too good . Your shoulders press down deeply into your pillows, body jolting as a familiar sensation waves over your entire being. From the very tips of your toes to the moans that get caught in your throat, you can't stop yourself from cumming for him.

"That's it, pretty," Jeongguk grunts. Doesn't relent. Sends you reeling. Your body shakes, jerking and tensing erratically from the sensation surging over you. "More, baby. Give me more ."

Time ceases to mean anything when Jeongguk is devouring your orgasms – and god, he wishes he really was. Wishes it was his mouth on your clit, not your hand. Is jealous of you. Wants to be where you are.

And so as your trembles begin to stifle, moans laboured as they escape like sobs, Jeongguk lets himself go, too. Holds his cock with a firm grip and rolls back his foreskin, jerking himself to the point of no return.

In a state of hedonistic bliss, you watch on as Jeongguk unloads. Are enamoured with how it looks. Sounds. How his brows grow taut and lips grow loose.

God, he's a vision. Angelic. Otherworldly – and then he's painting you in all that he is. Laying claim to your body. Marking you in him . It's a mess quite frankly; all of your slickness and his cum on your tummy, dripping down your pussy. It's a waste of a shower, but an excuse to have another.

Slowly, he pulls the toy from you. Is greeted with a sight worthy of preserving; pussy soaked and swollen, still needy for him.

With the toy in one hand, Jeongguk reaches over to your bedside table. Grabs the Polaroid. Watches on with a fond smile as you giggle at his actions.

"Really?" You raise a brow, against your forehead so you can shyly cover your eyes if needs be. You don't hide your smile though.

"You're so gorgeous," he whispers, pointing the camera to the mess between your legs. Presses down on the shutter, and lets the mechanical whir echo into the room. "My pretty girl."

In classic Jeongguk fashion, he nips the Polaroid with his teeth as it prints, just so he can take another shot.

Reaching for your hand, you're not really sure what he's gonna do with it. What you are sure of is the fact that you'll let him do whatever he likes with it.

Much to your surprise, he simply holds it. Positions your linked hands on top of the ruffled duvet, and takes the shot. Says nothing. Kind of hard to, given that that other damn Polaroid is still between his teeth.

Instead, he lets you take the camera from him. There can't be more than a couple of shots left, but you don't check. Just hold your hand out. Are aiming the be touching his chest, but he takes your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss, instead. Aiming the camera from his belly button upwards, the picture you take hides the sin that's really occurred – and yet it couldn't feel more apt.

"Such a gent," you giggle as the photo prints. You set the camera back on your bedside table, and pull Jeongguk down to meet you. A nudging of noses occurs, because you are you and Jeongguk is Jeongguk. He smiles. Giggles.

"How did I ever live without you," he simpers, kissing you softly. There's a star-like quality to him in the aftermath of your orgasm. There would have been, even if he, himself, hadn't finished. In fact, he only ever finishes these days by making sure you do.

"It's a miracle," you agree.

There's no talk of the rules that were broken. There will be, eventually, but you're both telling yourselves it didn't count. You didn't fuck . Barely even touched one another. Mutual masturbation; one of the oldest birds in the book. Revision, some may call it. Cheating, others may view it as.

"C'mon," he eventually whispers after an eternity of being curled up beside you. "Let's get cleaned up, then bed, yeah?"

"You staying?"

"Well, I hadn't planned on leaving," Jeongguk smiles. "Unless you want me to?"

"No. Stay. Please."

As he nestles his nose into the crook of your neck, the scent of your hair products lingering ever so subtly, Jeongguk finds he likes it just as much as he loves your perfume. Hums. Says nothing, just presses a soft kiss to your throat.

Stay , he thinks. Knows that he'd love to do nothing more.

"Hey," you whisper, toying with a little bit of his hair.

It's a small word. Insignificant. A greeting uttered in passing to strangers and lovers alike – yet when Jeongguk is curled up against your body, his chronic need to have you near manifesting in the way he's unable to let you go, it's entirely different. It's no longer just a greeting. It's acceptance. This is life, now.

That's what you're saying hello to. Not to him, but to how things are.

And to be welcomed with such warmth? Such tenderness?

It's like giving Jeongguk a key.

He knows you've been his home for quite some time, but there's always been a fear he could get evicted, or that someone else might move in. That the bricks and mortar could come crashing down.

With a key comes permanence. Permission to help reinforce the walls. Safeguard the house from hurricanes.

In his fantasies, fueled by your perfume, Jeongguk is home.

Trapped in his domestic delusions, Jeongguk is home .

Bare feet on cold kitchen tiles in the midst of winter, Jeongguk is home.

Coffee steeping in a pot, the sound of your record collection humming out from the next room over, Jeongguk is home.

Sash windows ajar to let in fresh air and give him permission to complain about the energy bill, Jeongguk is home .

Your simpering smile as his arms wrap around his waist, early morning sun framing you both in a glimmering brilliance, Jeongguk is home.

The sway of your bodies in time to the music, no care for a world outside of those four walls, Jeongguk is home.

You're always older in these fantasies. Him, too. Working 9-5s. Have a dog. Have everything you need. Have each other.

"Hey."

The echo of his voice vibrates against you; a reminder that even the smallest of interactions with Jeongguk have the power to shatter you completely.

You think of the stars that linger in the night skies, and how they disintegrate in nothingness. Know that if Jeongguk were ever to see you collapse like that, he'd use his bare hands to hold you together. Much like the grip he has on your body, he keeps you secure, no matter what.

"Tomorrow," you begin quietly. "You have work?"

Nodding, he groans a little.

"Same," you sigh. "Evening shift."

"Grab coffee before you start?" He offers. "I'll probably head off early in the morning. Need to go to the gym, considering you're not helping me out with cardio these days."

Laughing at the crassness of his remark, you find yourself comfortably smitten with the current state of affairs.

"Yeah, we can grab coffee," you confirm. "Walk me to work?"

"Was planning on it."

"Good," you smile. "Was just checking."

It's not like you expected any less. He always walks with you when you get coffee together before a shift. Makes no change now, even if the nature of what you have going on has altered ever so slightly.

Or, so you tell yourself.

See, when Jeongguk meets you the next day, everything is exactly as it was.

Laughter is shared between you, like the sips of each other's coffees that are exchanged when you go rogue and order a coconut coffee instead of your usual Americano.

"Tastes like shit," he tells you, decidedly not a fan.

"So you don't want to kiss me?" You tease.

"I do," he counters. "But I'm scared your little group of Ajummas will see us and rain hell down upon me again."

"If they do, it's cause you deserve it," you laugh. "You're not in their bad books anymore."

"No?"

"Well, it's been a while since I last gave them the down-low. Truth be told, I think Minsu will have a heart attack if I tell her."

"It's the tattoos, isn't it?" He pouts, not really caring in the slightest. "I'll wear long sleeves around them."

And as a surprise to Jeongguk, you slip your fingers between his. Pull his hand up and nod towards the ink on his knuckles. Say, "Gloves, too."

"You just wanted to hold my hand," he teases, not letting go as you try to drop your grasp.

Smug, you don't give him a direct response. Just shrug. Let your hand settle comfortably, his thumb resting on top of yours.

Jeongguk uses it to his advantage, pulling you down a side street. Part of you thinks he's just after that kiss you mentioned, but he quickly says, "Wanna show you something."

The roads are familiar to you. You're not too far from work, in the downtown area. These streets look different in daylight, typically only traipsed down by you in the dark of night, often in a drunken stupor. The way Jeongguk has you feeling – all giddy and giggly – isn't too dissimilar from a star fucker heading straight into your bloodstream.

Takes you a second to realise the direction you're heading in, until it becomes far more apparent.

In the distance sits the empty unit Jeongguk has had his eye on for as long as you've known him. The FOR LET signs have changed. They're no longer yellow.

Now, they're red.

And they read FOR SALE.

Easing to a halt, Jeongguk nods towards the derelict building. Says nothing. Lets the mid-afternoon traffic on the main road a few streets over soundtrack the melancholy ache in his chest.

"Y'know, I just thought it was up for lease for so long because the economy is bad," he says softly. Purses his lips. Looks down towards you, then back up at the building.

It's easy to imagine the place bustling. Lights on, Jeongguk's laughter echoing from the rafters. The sound of sizzling meat fills your ears, and the clink of glasses being cheered creating the perfect harmony.

Truthfully, you've no idea how Jeongguk would decorate it. Just know whatever he chooses would be perfect.

"So why has it been empty for so long?" You enquire.

He takes a second to form his response. Hasn't told anyone yet. Not even Yoongi.

"The owners passed away," Jeongguk exhales. "I'd spoken with them a few times, and I, uh... Yeah, I didn't know it had happened. Anyway, their son inherited it and-" he nods to the new signage "-has no interest in keeping the place."

There's a devastation in his tone that breaks your heart. The puzzle pieces begin to fall into place, but you wish they wouldn't.

"So what does it me-"

"Means that my business proposal is void in the eyes of the bank. The loan was good to go, just had to sign a few documents," Jeongguk hangs his head down as he talks, ashamed, almost, for taking so long to get his shit together. If he'd have just been faster . More pro-active. Gone to school earlier... He could have done so many things differently. Eventually, he looks up. Shrugs. Continues, "Majority of the loan was intended to be used on the premises. Without it, the business plan and expenditure predictions all fall apart. Bank won't touch the application with a ten-foot pole, now."

"So," you say quietly, fully intending on following it up with more words, but find yourself falling short. You know exactly what this means, yet you fear speaking it into existence.

Jeongguk's come to terms with it. Sort of.

"So," he nods. "Loans gone."

And with it, so has his dream.

"But can't you-"

"Trust me, B, if you've thought of it, so have I. Been wracking my brains how to raise enough capital, but I'm in no position to buy the building outright," he tells you.

"There must be another building-"

"B, this building is the dream."

You know, in your heart of hearts, that Jeongguk is responding emotionally right now, even if he is delivering it as facts.

His dream is his restaurant.

He can build it no matter which four walls it's within.

But the whole point of a dream is to have everything you want. So yeah, he is being a little defeatist right now, but you can't blame him.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" You ask, because he's clearly not after advice right now.

And yet he shrugs. Quietly admits, "Don't know."

Accepting his answer, you choose not to press down on the wound too hard. Instead, you ask when he found out.

"Pohang," he sighs. "On the drive there."

You loosen your grip on his hand and slink an arm around his waist. Squeeze.

You're content when he drapes his arm over your shoulders and does the same thing back.

"I'm sorry," you offer, because it's all you can do right now.

"Not your fault," he says, pressing a kiss to your head. "I'll figure it out, B. I always do."

Turning your head, you stand on your tippy toes. Wait for him to turn his head a little lower. Smile as his lips press against yours for just a moment. Eyes closed as he pulls away, there's a radiance to him despite the rainfall of bad luck he's experienced.

A kiss fixes nothing, but it does make him feel so much better.

"I know you will," you agree. Don't doubt him for a second.

"C'mon," he insists, taking your hand once more, heading for the main road. "You'll be late."

You won't be. Jeongguk just doesn't wanna dwell on it any longer. Was unsure if he was even gonna tell you about what happened. Is a little embarrassed.

But if there's one thing about Jeongguk, it's that he commits.

Committed to his dream. Committed to seeing it through, regardless of the outcome.

And more recently, even if nothing has formally been declared, he committed himself to you, too.

The topic of conversation is changed to something far lighter – Yoongi and Seoyeon's wedding – with the both of you deciding that honesty is not the best policy when it comes to your friends.

"Not yet," you admit when Jeongguk asks if you want to share the change in status from 'just friends'. "Sort of want to indulge in it for a while, you know?"

Jeongguk smiles. Makes no change to life as it has been, if you choose to keep a lid on things for now. Both of you want to focus on their big day. It should be all about them.

As ring bearer, Jeongguk has a vital role to play. One of the few roles, actually.

Seoyeon elected not to have bridesmaids, opting for her older sister to be her Maid of Honour. Likewise, Yoongi's opted to have just a best man, and picked his brother for the role. Easier that way. Less people to offend, and more focus where it should be – on the couple you're all celebrating.

Jeongguk only scored the gig as keeper of the rings because Seoyeon thought he needed a purpose – something to look forward to – after the breakdown of his friendship with Hayun all those months ago. Kind of remarkable, how much has changed since then, but neither Yoongi nor Seoyeon wanted to take the privilege away from him.

Credit where it's due; they've never met a more diligent man for the role. Every few weeks, he texts Yoongi, and asks him to check if the rings are safe.

They remain where they always are: in the safe hidden under the bed in the spare room.

Jeongguk doesn't think it's a very good hiding place. Tells Yoongi so, every single time he confirms they're safe.

"Got your suit sorted?" You ask, curious about what he'll be wearing.

"Mhhm," he hums. "Got your dress sorted?"

"Mhmm," you hum right back.

"Colour?" Jeongguk checks, just so he can be prepared.

Seoyeon had sent out a colour palette which had, admittedly, helped you narrow down your choices – but sage green and deep teal weren't colours you wore too often. All options felt a little bit alien to you.

"You'll see," you simply smile, not really wanting to give anything away – after all, you've something to prove now. A man to impress (even if he is seemingly entranced, no matter what you wear).

"Tease," he pouts – but when you ask him the same question, he smirks and says, "You'll see."

When you round the corner towards your place of work, you both separate a little. It isn't discussed, nor premeditated, just a habit.

The pretence of being just friends still lingers, even if his eyes sparkle as he says goodbye, like the glitter on his skin catching in the mid-afternoon sun. He bites down on his bottom lip. Lets his ring do the thing. Keeps looking back even as he walks away.

Turns out, you are late for work, only by a couple of minutes, and not Jeongguk's fault at all.

It's all yours, and the fact you refused to stop watching him walk away until he was out of sight entirely, your hand twiddling with silver bird around your neck.

You're reminded of winter. Christmas. The gift he'd given you that wear with pride, and the chopping board that sits next to his stovetop that had been intended to live inside his restaurant.

"Hobes," you call out as you make your way into the art café, not caring for any punters who may overhear. "I need your help."

He cocks a brow. "Nice to see you, Hoseok. How are you? How's your day been?"

Rolling your eyes as you set your bag down, you counter his sarcasm with a bribe you know he won't refuse.

"I'm asking Namjoon for help, too – are you in, or not?"

He narrows his eyes, mainly so you can't see his pupils dilating at the mere mention of his terribly hidden crush.

"You're a witch," he assures you.

"And it's why you love me," you smirk. "Now are you gonna help me or not?"

Tossing his phone down onto the desk, he relents. Was always gonna help you, but was always gonna be a little tricky about it. Typical him. "Fine. Tell me your spells."

"We've got an issue."

"Hm?" You sleepily mumble into your phone, rudely awoken from an evening nap that probably would have ended up turning into sleep had it not been for the violent buzz of Jeongguk blowing up your phone.

"It's Yoongi."

"What?!" You gasp, bolting upright from your relaxed position. "What do you mean?"

Just a few hours until midnight hits, it's the day before the wedding.

"He forgot the rings-"

"Oh my god," you practically yell into the phone. "Lead with that next time, Gguk! I thought something awful had happened!"

"It has!" He whines, and you just know he's pouting. "Ring bearer is my job; without the rings, I have nothing ."

"Okay, so are you gonna do anything about it?" You groan through the telephone, far too tired for his indecisions.

"Yep. Gonna get them," he tells you.

"You mean to tell me you had that planned already?" You deadpan.

"Well, yeah."

"God, I'm gonna kill you when I see you next," you half laugh, half mumble, trying to fight a yawn. "Woke me for nothing."

"Okay, well, hurry up," he says, dismissing your threat of murder. "I'm parked outside your place-"

"What?!"

"You didn't answer my texts!"

"Because I was sleeping ."

"And now you're not," he says, and you just know he's got a smug little grin on his pretty face. How can you refuse?

"I'll be down in five."

In his car, Jeongguk is radiant. Has missed you over the past few days. Wanted to spend time with you, but didn't wanna have too much of a good thing.

Yoongi had called him in a panic about half an hour ago. Already at the wedding hotel with their families, neither he nor Seoyeon could leave to go and get the rings. Luckily for them, Jeongguk was quite possibly the best choice they could have made regarding their wedding. Offered to go and get the rings before Yoongi had even finished his sentence.

He'll keep them safe up until the ceremony.

The thing is, the drive to their home takes an absolute age – and he misses you. Of course he was gonna ask you to come with.

"Sorry for waking you," he offers as you pop his door open, sinking into the passenger seat. He can see your sleepiness in your eyes, and the way you carry yourself. Posture sloped, he knows you must have been cosy.

"It's okay," you reassure him with a sleepy smile, body clad in a pair of leggings and one of his shirts.

He reaches over. Holds your cheek. Reconfirms how enamoured he is when your eyes close, head leaning into his touch.

"You can sleep if you want," he says. Feels quite bad, now.

"The quicker you start driving, the quicker I can go back to bed," you smile softly, even if your words are a little snippy. You don't mean to them be, and he knows this, so he smiles back.

"Right you are."

The drive is everything you'd expect it to be: roads pretty empty, skies dark, light pollution obscuring the stars. He's got a chilled playlist humming through his speakers, encouraging you to sleep again, but you're restless. Have something on your mind that you desperately want to ignore – but if you can't share things with Jeongguk, what on earth is all this for?

You're nearly at Yoongis by the time you eventually blurt out, "Hayun messaged me."

Jeongguk is quiet for a moment. Frowns. "Saying?"

Part of you thinks her message is the reason for your grouchiness. Tiredness, too. Sleeping to avoid dealing with it.

"Some bollocks about getting off on the wrong foot," you sigh. Wasn't even that bad, even if it was total bullshit. "Reckons she doesn't want things to be awkward tomorrow, so was offering a white flag."

Hayun has presented Jeongguk with many flags in the time he's known her – and none of them have ever been anything other than red.

"Okay," he nods. Doesn't wanna say too much but fears saying too little, too. "Did you reply?"

"No," you admit.

"Are you going to?"

"Feel like I should."

"But do you want to?"

"No."

"Then don't, B," he says softly. Shrugs. "It's not like you owe her anything."

"Yeah, but if I don't reply, then I'm the one being difficult," you stew. Danbi had told you to ignore it, but you're a chronic people-pleaser. If you can ease a situation, you'll try to. "I just don't want drama. Especially not tomorrow."

"There won't be," he assures you. Genuinely thinks you needn't worry, but knows it's far easier said than done. "Look, Hayun is a lot of things, but she's not the type to ruin one of her best friends' weddings just because she's jealous of someone."

"Jealous?" You almost scoff. Of all Hayun's gripes with you, jealousy has never seemed to be one of them.

"Jealous," he nods. Thinks it's obvious. You're the artsy one – surely you realise that red hides green. Obscures it. Balances it out on the surface, but beneath it all, the green remains. "You've got something she can't have, B – and she doesn't like that."

"Are you trying to say she wants my tits?" You chirp, deliberately playing dumb, but also because you know she's gorgeous . It's the only department you think you come up trumps in. Stupidly wanna remind him of it.

"Probably," Jeongguk smirks. Reaches over. Squeezes one. Loves the way you feel. "Mhmm. Yeah, definitely ."

Laughing, you swat his hand away, pleased that he doesn't take the occasionally petty nature of your reactions too seriously. There's an ease to Jeongguk that remedies your woes. Makes everything feel a little effortless; like you aren't restricted by the gravity of this planet. With him, you're floating. Free. Orbiting around him, 'cause there's nothing that centres you more than he does.

Not letting your hand go, Jeongguk brings your knuckles to his lips. Presses a sincere kiss against them. Says, "I'm not gonna force you to be friends with her. Do what feels right to you."

And see, it's funny, 'cause Jeongguk treats you with such compassion, the only thing that feels right is telling him to pull over so you can show him exactly how thankful you are.

You won't.

But you want to.

Truthfully, you want him in the most explicit of ways. Want him to pull into a layby, not even off the main road. Want to be in his lap, lips on his. Want his hands all over your body, the sound of his stereo pale compared to the harmony of how you whine for one another.

Almost as if you've conditioned yourself, your brain tells you , 'that's not very friendly' .

The thoughts get you crossing your legs, and gently reclaiming ownership of your hand.

"Unless you want to be friends with her?" Jeongguk questions, aware of the way you're closing off.

"No," you say without any malice. "There's no point."

"If she bothers you tomorrow," he glances over to catch your expression, and is pleased to see a light smile on your face as you look towards the dark road ahead. "Just come find me."

"We not gonna be keeping a distance?" you hum, having understood that Jeongguk wasn't keen on other people knowing just yet.

And while it's true, he wants to hold on to your little affair for a while longer without the intrusion of outside opinions, it doesn't mean ignoring you entirely.

"Would we be keeping a distance normally, B?" He questions.

"Well, no."

"Exactly. Would be weirder if we were avoiding one another, wouldn't it?"

He's got a good point. You tell him so.

"What was that?" he grins, because you did not , in fact, tell him so. You grumbled an incoherent noise that was supposed to indicate that he made a good point. It also meant admitting you were being a little overdramatic and didn't want to do that.

"You heard."

"I didn't."

"Should get your ears checked."

"B," Jeongguk laughs. "Just admit I'm right."

"No."

It's the principle, more than anything, that makes you not want to give in. You also enjoy the flirt of it all, but you'll never admit to that weakness.

"I'm right," he tells you – and something about his confidence has your brain back on your desire to have him pull over.

As he knocks the indicator to turn up the road to Yoongi's home, you're thankful that you'll be out of the car soon. Know that there's no way you could have survived any longer in there with him.

"You're a right dickhead," you banter as he comes to a stop. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you don't hesitate to open the side door.

"What's gotten into you?" He laughs, softly closing his door without much fuss, following you up towards the house.

"Nothing!" you almost whine. "I mean-"

"You wanna fuck me, don't you?"

The question is so abrupt that it stops you in your tracks.

"Oh my God."

"Oh, don't play coy," he laughs, reaching for your waist.

The only reason he even knows that sex is the issue is 'cause the lack of it has been making him act all irrational, too. Finds relief that he's not the only one going insane.

You shake him off. "I'm not playing anything ."

"Yes, you are," he continues laughing, and paws out for you again. This time, there's a little less resistance, but you eventually rid yourself of him. "B, c'mon. I know you. I know your tells."

"You know nothing," you insist. "And I'm actually getting away from you, not trying to get in your pants."

"Only 'cause you don't trust yourself to be too close," he smirks, gripping your wrist. It's firmer, this time. Dominant, when he pulls you back. Turns you. Gets your chest pressed up against his. "That's it, isn't it? You want me."

"I don't want anything."

"No?"

"No."

"Shame," he husks, nudging his pretty little nose against yours. "If I'd have known how insatiable you'd be tonight, I wouldn't have gotten off to videos of you earlier. "

"You did what?!"

"What?" He smirks. "The ones of us. You filmed them for a reason."

"And you-"

"Uh-huh," he nods, the position of his nestled nose deepening as his voice softens. "Came so hard."

"Fuck."

"You should watch them," he tells you. "See how pretty you are when you're taking my cock."

"Gguk," you exhale.

"Pretty all the time," he admits. Sinks his lips into yours without objection. Keeps his lips on yours even as he talks. "But fuck, B. Should see yourself cum."

"So that's why you're with me?" You challenge, 'cause it's either that or your start babbling on about how much you like him, too. "'Cause you like my cum face?"

"Mhmm," he nods. Kisses you again. "Why else would I be with you?"

Neither of you discusses the fact that you aren't technically together, even if saying it makes you feel like your blood is on fire, scorching through your veins with unrelenting force.

"My big-"

"Tits?"

"Brain," you correct. "Tits, too."

"I like 'em both," he tells you – and then he's kissing you again, palms to your cheeks, tongue invasive, moans vibrating. "So much, B."

The isolation of Yoongi's property provides you both with a luxury you've never had before: the chance to kiss him like you mean it out in the open. There's no hiding what's happening. No quick glances to check you're in the clear, and no need to fear getting caught.

Your arms wrap around his neck, standing on the very tip of your toes as the sensation of what it's like to kiss Jeongguk takes hold of you once more; the roughness of his lips as they forget to be gentle, and the pressure of his metal lip ring against your skin. His hands roam. Squeeze. Sink beneath the hemline of your shirt; hold your waist but desperately fight the need to hold your tits instead.

"Gguk," you pant a little breathlessly. "We can't."

"Says who?" He whines into your mouth, pulling your lips back to his.

"Says us," you giggle, sinking back down from your elevated height, soft palms on his cheeks. There's a blushed plumpness to his lips, a little swollen from how he'd been kissing you as if it was the last chance he'd ever have.

There's a wateriness to his eyes, even in the dark. The porch lights shine in his eyes, and it's about now that you notice your glitter all over his skin. Even if you play 'friends' at the wedding, there's no mistaking whose hotel room he's gonna end up in after the reception.

"We'll stop off at a convenience store on the way home," you tell him softly. "Grab snacks. Make this date three. A mini-road trip."

"That's cheating," he pouts.

"So pull something out of your ass," you grin. "If you wanna hurry this ordeal along, then you gotta make this a date. Now c'mon. Let's get the rings."

Jeongguk relents. Lets you pull away, and drag him by the hand up to the house. Unlike your apartments in the heart of the city, Yoongi's front door operates with a good old lock and key, instead of a pin pad. There's a nostalgia to the crisp sound of metal grating against itself as Jeongguk twists the lock, opening the door.

Shoes off, you let Jeongguk lead the way up to the spare room.

You've only ever been in there once. Christmas. Part of you feels guilty, as if it will remind him of the gift and the situation with the restaurant.

If it does, he doesn't mention it. Other than a few mumbles narrating what he's doing, he doesn't say anything – "Safe's under the bed. Think I 'member the code. Hold on. Shit. Ah, wait, no. There we go."

He checks the boxes and ensures the rings sit prettily in their cushions. Custom designed, Yoongi had gotten a friend within the local craft industry to make them. The perks of his work meant that Yoongi had connections in all of the creative fields over the city, and it has proven insanely helpful when planning a wedding.

It's a get-in, get-out operation. Neither of you want a particularly late night, not with the wedding tomorrow.

There are, remarkably, some things you deem more important than your need to have Jeongguk inside you. The wedding is one of these things.

You're maybe twenty from home, when Jeongguk says, "Stay at mine tonight."

"Hm?"

He repeats himself, a little louder. "Stay at mine tonight, B. No funny business."

You never stopped from snacks. Date three never materialised, because Jeongguk has solid plans for it. As much as he wants the dates over and done with, he also wants to spend with you. Doesn't want to hurry them along all the time. Just most of the time.

"Alright," you eventually concede. "Take us home."

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