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alotofteez · 2 years ago

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Sphallolalia | Part 9

Series: ⇢ Pairing: San x fem!Reader ⇢ Genre: flirty af fluff, hints of angst, suggestive, kinda smutty, older reader (noona) ⇢ Synopsis: As your best friend’s maid of honor, you must endure the shameless best man’s flirting until after the wedding. It’s just sphallolalia… right?

Part 9: (Un)Expectations - Moodboard ⇢ Genre: fluff, angst, & suggestive ⇢ Warnings: Language, adult themes ⇢ Word Count: 6,639

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

taglist: @joongiebug (url doesn’t exist), @simluvbot , @kimtae-bae (can’t be tagged?), @justsayk , @sunsethw4 , @baguette-atiny , @youre-a-wallflower-charlie , @knisterlicht, @nevieatiny, @laylasbunbunny, @brown88, @rihannon14

Your finger moves quickly across the tablet screen and repeatedly stops as you figure out the best shelving layout with the store’s data from last month. You are lost in thought behind the registers occupied by sales associates. Their chatting is mostly blocked out, but their sudden giddiness and posture change slightly grab your attention.

“He’s so cute— Fuck, he’s walking over here,” one of them whispers in a panic.

“Language,” you warn before looking up to see who they are freaking out about.

The unfortunate sight of San strolling through your store welcomes you. He already has a smile on his face, and it only gets smugger the moment you lock eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You sigh defeatedly, putting the tablet down and stepping around the counter.

“Is that how you greet all your customers?” He asks, “I think I need to speak to the manager.”

“I am the manager,” you deadpan, leading him away from the prying ears of your employees, “Why are you here?”

“I happened to be around, so I decided to drop by to see if you’re a hardass at work as well,” he jokes, “I got you coffee. Happy birthday.” He smiles, holding out the cup.

You’re caught off guard by the sweet gesture and hesitantly take it.

“Oh- Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t think he even knew when your birthday was. You’re going to end up with a sweet tooth for this man.

“Yeah, but I wanted to,” he says with his smile turning into a smirk, noticing he has made you sappy, “You know what else you get for your birthday?”

Knowing exactly where this is going, your index finger presses against his lips before he can get out another word.

“Don’t. I’m at work. I don’t need you here talking about birthday sex,” you warn, voice wavering between seriousness and laughing because goddamn, does the devil work hard but Choi San work harder.

His tongue sneakily licks your finger effectively removing it from his mouth, much to your dismay. While groaning and wiping his spit off on his shirt, you briefly notice the scoop neckline of it and how his defined collarbones peek out from underneath. Thoughts of peppered marks on them and being the one to do so cloud your mind as he speaks.

“I was gonna say a kiss,” he starts, mischief sparkling in his eyes, “But now I know where your mind is at.”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you try to play it off, “Your mind is always in the gutter-”

“If that’s what you want for your birthday, I think I can arrange that.”

“Hell no. Get out before someone hears you.”

He sighs, stepping towards you and making you back up, “If you change your mind about the birthday sex, you know where to find me.”

“San!” You smack his shoulder, making him chuckle.

“Impact play?”

“Get out!”

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wink before turning to leave the store.

“Is he your boyfriend?” One of your cashiers asks excitedly.

“Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“He likes being single,” you answer and give them warning glares.

“What’s happening tonight?” They tease, wiggling their eyebrows.

“We’re making decorations for our friends’ wedding. Would you busy yourselves? Go tidy up shelves or something.”

They grumble under their breaths.

“I’m your boss, not your bestie,” you remind them.

Behind the counter once again, you take a quick sip of the drink he brought. You’re surprised by the familiar taste. How does he know your favorite coffee drink? Since when did he care about your birthday? Why is he being so nice to you? It’s not that you’re mad about it, but it just seems suspicious.

San occupies your mind, which is unfortunate for your productivity. You can’t get his stupid face out of your head like he now lives there rent-free. The new shelving layout needs to be done so that you can figure out where to move things for a display of upcoming trends. Shipments are coming in next week, and your store is a bit behind schedule.

Although you try to refocus on the tablet, thoughts of birthday sex with San lure you down a raunchy rabbit hole. For a moment, you entertain those ideas. In your little scenario, you invite him over after work, blowing off your plans to go to Mina’s. Already on his way, he responds with “No one has to know.” Upon answering the door, you pull him inside your apartment by his shirt and crash your lips into his. He lets you take control, allowing you to use him as you please. You can almost hear him say with a smirk, “Don’t take it easy on me,” as you push him up against a wall. Mina blows up your phone asking where you are, but San simply puts it on silent. “Just tell her your battery died,” he murmurs against your lips before continuing to kiss you deeply.

What the hell is wrong with you? You’re at work! Due to confirmation bias, it’s all San’s fault. He is like quicksand. The harder you struggle to get out, the more you sink into him. Almost like he has been spying on your thoughts all day, San texted you while you were working.

From: San🖕 Take a nap because I’m gonna keep you up all night😉 3:17 PM

From: You Omfg shut up 4:53 PM

You didn’t know exactly how you would spend your birthday, but making so many decorations for the wedding was not on your radar. To make it worse, Yujin invited herself to Mina’s apartment after hearing Mingi say something about wedding decorations. The hidden upside of the night is that you will see San, and it will fuel your dumb crush on him.

That same crush clouds your judgement enough to have you reaching for a coral blouse out of your closet as you’re getting ready to head over to Mina’s. When you arrive, only a few members of the wedding party are present. Kyungmi texts that she’s running late. One by one, the rest trickle in… Except for San.

Mina sends the guys into the kitchen to cut out sticker decals on her many cutting boards. Apparently, no one in the friend group owns a cutting mat for crafting. The plan for those decals is to put them on wine glasses Mina bought in bulk, but that is a task for the girls because Mina doesn’t trust them to line the decals up perfectly. The cups are for the wedding guests to reuse during the reception and to keep as gifts.

When you hear one of the guys say San’s name, you glance in their direction. This crafting ‘party’ has been going on for almost an hour, and it’s killing you to know what he’s doing.

“Where’s San?” You ask, trying to hide your interest.

“Yunho isn’t here either,” Mina counters, and you nearly slap yourself across the face. How could you be so careless? Your brain almost short-circuits racing for a rationale.

“Well, I figured the best man would be here,” you stammer out.

“He’s out with his other friends. You’re welcome,” Mina playfully answers.

Those words stab at your heart. He knows it’s your birthday and still changed plans? But why are you upset? He’s not your friend. This shouldn’t personally bother you so much, but it does. He even said he would see you tonight…

“He has other friends?” Sejeong jokes.

It doesn’t completely bring your mood back up, but you chuckle a little.

“He might be making a new one right now.” Mina wiggles her eyebrows.

“You look stupid when you do that,” Yujin grumbles, voice laced with what you assume is jealousy.

“Well, he is out with his party friends, so…” Mina emphasizes, making sure Yujin hears loud and clear, “Wooyoung is basically a copy and paste.”

You like that Mina also rubs salt in Yujin’s wounds, even if it’s for a different reason to keep her from him. But then again, it feels like salt in your wounds too. You can’t stand the idea of him in bed with some girl he barely knows all over him. Even though that’s his business, jealousy can make you think ugly things.

Looking down at your shirt, you feel so fucking stupid.

You pull yourself back together and start lining up the wine glasses on the table. Just after Seonghwa delivers a few dozen decals to you, Kyungmi busts through the front door.

“Guess who just won custody!”

You glance around at the other bridesmaids, who are just as confused as you.

“Huh?” Sejeong finally says something.

“My parents are giving my dog back. They had her while I was in college, and I broke them down enough to get her back. Wanna see pictures of her all cuddled up on my bed?”

Kyungmi doesn’t even wait for an answer. She must have pictures of her dog on deck at all times.

“Aw, what’s her name?” Yoojung coos, looking at a photo.

“Talulah.”

The dog is absolutely adorable, but there is something abnormal about her throughout all the pictures that has you hesitantly asking, “Does her tongue always hang out like that?”

“Yeah, she’s got a medical issue.”

“Wait, how old is she? You said your parents had her while you were in college, but she looks like a puppy.”

“She’s, like, seven, I think.”

Mina gasps as she remembers something and quickly whips out her phone.

“Do y’all want to see some pictures of Mingi from high school?”

“No, but don’t let that stop you,” Yujin deadpans.

“Was he a dork?” Kyungmi kids, putting her own phone away.

Mina pouts as she hands her phone to Yoojung and Sejeong, “Don’t be mean.”

“I mean, I was an anime kid, so…” Kyungmi trails off, lips pursing to make an ugly face, “It’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Really?” Yoojung exclaims.

Kyungmi nods, “Yeah. Then, right before my sixteenth birthday, I was like, ‘What if I was hot?’”

“Yeah, what if,” Mina repeats, receiving a smack to her shoulder from Kyungmi.

Sejeong passes the phone to Kyungmi, and Mina peeks around the screen to swipe to another photo.

“He was on the basketball team?” Kyungmi is surprised, probably because she can’t picture him not being clumsy on the court.

“Yeah, but he was only on it because he was tall.” Mina swipes again.

Sejeong tilts her head next to Kyungmi’s and squints. “Wait, is that San?”

Your interest is suddenly piqued, but you act casually as you lean into Kyungmi to catch a glimpse. His long, dark hair covers half of his eyes, but his dimples give away that it’s him. There’s a boyish charm about him in the photo that makes you want to smile, but you suppress the urge.

From the other room, you hear the refrigerator open and Jongho yelp, “Oh, shit” followed by the other guys gasping.

“Be careful!” Mina warns with an eye roll.

“Can you come here for a second?”

Mina stands while muttering under her breath, “Oh, my fucking god.”

They crowd around the kitchen island as Mina searches through some cabinets. Finally, Seonghwa emerges from the huddle with an adorably pink cake topped with lit candles, icing, and macarons.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” you say with glassy eyes as Seonghwa sets the cake on the table in front of you.

“Make a wish,” Mina smiles with the flames twinkling in her eyes.

It has been years since someone has said that to you. The last time was probably when you were a preteen. You can barely remember the things you wished for then. It was probably toys, a cell phone, or makeup.

What should you wish for now? Money; a raise at work; stumble upon a wad of cash; a distant relative you’ve never heard of left their life’s fortune to you? A new job, preferably one that exercises your college degree? Good health and a long life? To fall in love? There is one thing all these ideas have in common. If somehow, this can manifest something, you just wish to be happy.

“Just blow out the candle. It’s not rocket science,” Mina jokes with a chuckle.

Right. It’s not.

“Alright, who wants a slice?” Mina claps her hands together as Seonghwa brings over plates and utensils.

“I just want a small piece,” you inform Mina before she cuts one for you.

She furrows her brows, “No, you’re getting a slice thick with two C’s.”

You don’t want to waste it, so you might as well eat it. As much as you want to regret consuming these treats, they taste so good. The white chocolate rose macarons complement the vanilla cake with chocolate mousse filling well.

“Oh, my god, Seonghwa. Where did you get this cake?” Mina inquires, mouth full of cake with her hand hiding it.

“A little bakery over by my apartment.”

Mina nudges Mingi’s arm, almost causing him to drop his next bite in his lap, “We should check it out for our wedding cake.”

Once most of you are done eating, Sejeong suggests that you open your birthday gifts. You move a chair into the living room for your friends to watch comfortably on the couches.

“Hang on. I gotta go get my present. I hid it in the neighbor’s potted plant,” Kyungmi says in a rush to retrieve it.

Sejeong scrunches her face in confusion. “Why didn’t you just leave it in your car?”

“I wasn’t about to go all the way back down there.”

“There’s an elevator?”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t about to go all the way back down there,” she repeats as if it should be obvious that it would be too much work.

When she returns, you ask, hands hovering above the gifts, “Which one should I start with?”

“Save the big one for last,” Mina dismisses the large box.

“Start with the smallest one,” Yoojung suggests, and Kyungmi gets a large grin on her face.

You pick up the smallest bag and take note of how light it is. When you pull out all of the gift tissue paper, you’re met with something you weren’t quite expecting. A weird little stuffed creature with beady eyes stares back at you. As you take the plushy out, you find an envelope at the bottom of the bag. Your friends whisper among themselves asking what the gift is.

“It’s your adopted wombat!” Kyungmi chirps.

The paper inside the envelope confirms that it is a symbolically adopted wombat, specifically one named Gertrude. There’s even a photo of the wombat that benefits from the “adoption.”

“Why did you get her that?” Yoojung questions.

“She said she didn’t have a pet.”

“That’s cute,” Seonghwa approves.

As your friends discuss Kyungmi’s gift, you open the box from Yoojung. It’s a duffel bag; you remember her drunkenly pointing out at the bachelorette party how grungy the one you have been using is. Despite being put on blast for it, you’re thankful for the new one because truthfully, yours was disgusting.

“Those next,” Sejeong points out the matching gift bags.

Her present is actually three separate bags containing a trio of fake plants. One is labeled as a spider plant, another as a pothos plant, and the last as a rubber plant. They’re cute and require no maintenance aside from dusting every now and again. There are a few places in your apartment that could use some decoration.

To give your friends a hard time, you sigh, “I’m starting to think you guys think I can’t keep anything alive.”

“You know, I’m honestly surprised you’re still here,” Mina jokes as she hands over another gift bag. You toss her an unimpressed glare.

“Because your apartment is always freezing,” Seonghwa chimes before you remove the tissue paper.

The gift bag feels heavy and full but not like it contains a hard, solid object. Inside is a thick, plush throw blanket that makes a grin grow on your face.

“Are the blankets I have not enough?” You challenge as a joke.

“Those shouldn’t even be called blankets. They’re like bed sheets.”

“So you got me a present for yourself when you come over?”

He starts stuttering out arguments now that you’ve put him on the spot.

“Hwa, I’m just teasing. Thank you.”

Mina slides two boxes in front of you; one large yet flat and one small. Tears spring to your eyes when you tear away the gift wrapping from the bigger one. Dozens of photos of you and Mina over the years are collaged in the shape of a heart in a large picture frame. There’s even the picture of you holding her at the hospital after she was born.

“Don’t cry.” Mina shuffles over to wrap you in her arms as you look at all the different pictures.

“Where did you get all these?”

“Me and my mom dug through all her photo albums in the attic.”

“Minnie Beanie, this is so cute,” you say wiping away a stray tear. The use of her childhood nickname makes her grin.

“Don’t forget the little box.”

Inside the box is a silver necklace with a small heart pendant.

When you look up at Mina, she excitedly says, “Let me help you put it on.”

As she does so, Sejeong slides the giant box to you with a bit of struggle. The birthday card is signed off by Mina, Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa.

“Oh, my god. This is huge,” you say in awe as you reveal the present’s box packaging. It’s a pretty sizable espresso machine. Mina has always criticized your caffeine addiction, and now here she is enabling it. But you won’t call her out on it. Currently, you can’t wait for the morning to test it out.

“Did you bring anything?” Yoojung quietly asks Jongho.

He clears his throat to announce, “My presence is your present.”

“Did you keep the receipt?” Kyungmi quips.

“You gave a full-grown woman a stuffed animal.”

“At least that has value.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but she cuts him off, “Yunho isn’t even here, and he still got her a present.”

“Children, please,” Sejeong attempts to shut down the argument.

“In his defense, we didn’t tell him we were doing a little party for Y/N,” Mina steps in.

“I would have gotten you a boyfriend if I could,” Kyungmi says to you as Mina and Seonghwa clear up the party mess.

You assure her while moving back to the dining table, “I don’t need or want a man.”

“I mean, they’re kinda fun to have around.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“What’s your type?” Sejeong is the first one to actually ask about what you are into.

You hum as you think for a second, “Mmm, I just want someone who listens and understands. A deep emotional connection would be nice, you know?”

“We all want that, but that kind of man doesn’t exist,” Kyungmi sighs.

“You’re being too picky,” Yujin adds, and you really want to be petty and snap back that not everyone is willing to hook up with anything that has a pulse and a dick. Besides, you really aren’t asking much of a person; it’s like the bare minimum of being a decent human being. There have to be people out there who can do that.

“I mean, look at Mingi. He listens but, like, selectively listens,” Mina jokes as she plops down in the chair next to you, and you force a chuckle.

“I can hear you!” Mingi shouts from the kitchen accompanied by his groomsmen cracking up.

“Pay attention to what you’re doing with that craft knife, babe. I don’t want to take you to the ER again,” Mina yells back and then quietly tells your group, “He dropped the knife and tried to catch it.”

“What if your perfect person is right in front of you and you just haven’t noticed?” Sejeong redirects the conversation, ignoring the other bridesmaids’ horrified expressions and Mingi’s loud complaints from the other room.

“If they are, please point them out because I’m oblivious.”

She hums as if she’s thinking about something and squints her eyes at you. Sucking her teeth, she says, “I don’t know.”

It doesn’t sound convincing, and you don’t miss her cautious yet subtle glance at the boys around the corner. Before anyone can ask about her cryptic reaction, Yoojung decides to throw out an option, an unavailable option.

“What about Mingi’s brother?”

Mina snorts, “He’s married with kids, and even if he wasn’t, there is no way in hell I would let Y/N date him.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, that’s just fucking weird.”

“We could have been family,” you say, feigning offense with a hand resting on your chest.

Mina pushes at your shoulder, scoffing, “Shut up.”

“He’s not really my type anyway,” you comment, chuckling a bit.

But your lighthearted mood comes to a screeching halt at Mina’s next words.

“What about San?”

You can’t help the panicked look on your face as all of the other girls start laughing. Your heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of your chest. There’s a gooey feeling in your stomach like you could throw up if provoked any further. For a moment, you think your secret crush has been found out.

“Did you see the absolute terror in her eyes?” Mina asks between laughs.

“There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” you warn your best friend.

“I’ll save you a seat,” she says, punctuating with a blown kiss and wink.

“There are still plenty of fish in the sea,” Yoojung says with a reassuring smile.

“The ocean is starting to look more like a koi pond,” you mutter quietly.

For some reason, Yujin instigates, “Are you sure you’re not aiming too high?”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is frail with confusion and surprise.

“Do you even deserve someone like that?”

“Yujin, what the fuck? Why would you say that?” Mina’s voice pitches with anger.

“Somebody has to be the voice of reason.”

“That wasn’t reasonable. That was just rude. You don’t know Y/N that well if you think she doesn’t deserve someone who will treat her right. On top of that, it’s her fucking birthday, you heartless cunt.”

You all sit in stunned silence. Even the guys have frozen in the kitchen. Yujin’s pretentious expression doesn’t waver.

“You know what? Just leave,” Mina says, standing from the table, “You weren’t even supposed to be here. You weren’t invited.”

The entire apartment is silent as Yujin grabs her things and exits through the front door. You have seen them fight many times but not to this extent and in front of so many non-family members. Yujin’s time at this little party is finished with a slam of the door behind her by Mina.

“And you told me to swear less,” Mingi comments as Mina replants herself in the seat next to you.

“That was the nicest I could be. If you want to be next, keep talking.”

Maybe Yujin is right. Maybe you don’t deserve anyone. Maybe that’s evident in you being unlikeable. What is there to like about you? What do you even bring to the table? You’re a stressed mess that’s possibly a little depressed.

You could probably think of some more adjectives that rhyme, but the guys suddenly distract your mind as they head to the parking lot to see Yunho’s new car. So, you digress.

But before they can make it out of the door, Sejeong stops them with a question.

“Do any of you know someone to set Y/N up with? Someone we would approve of?”

“Seonghwa, who’s that one really good-looking guy you work with?” Jongho elbows the oldest of them.

Mingi and Seonghwa look at Jongho, asking with their eyes for him to stop talking. But he persists in repeating the question. Talking about you and finding a new love interest is now the cursed conversation subject of the night.

“Minhyuk?” Seonghwa says, shutting Jongho down, “He’s seeing someone.”

While Mingi visibly relaxes, Jongho deflates. Seonghwa shoos them out of the apartment, the door closing a lot softer than the last time.

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but Mingi told me the other night Yunho said his ideal type is basically Yoojung,” Mina gossips quietly as if the guys might miraculously hear her.

All eyes flick to Yoojung who is now making an awkward face.

“You don’t like him?” Kyungmi asks.

Yoojung shrugs, “He’s not my type.”

“How?! I’m scared of heights, but I’d still climb that like a tree.”

“You’re not that much shorter than him,” Sejeong notes.

“I’m a big bitch who just wants to feel like a little bitch, okay?”

“He knows how to play guitar,” Mina offers up that information to sweeten the deal.

“Oh, shit. He’s good with his fingers.”

“Kyungmi, honey. Chill,” Sejeong laughs, wrapping her arm around the other bridesmaid to keep her from falling out of the chair in hysterics.

Mina continues, “He also has a dog.”

“Oh, my god. Let me marry him!” Kyungmi bemoans.

Yoojung is sweating bullets at this point, so Mina finally gives in, “I’m just teasing. I don’t want it awkward within the wedding party.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said anything.” Yoojung fans her face with both hands to cool down before the guys return.

The front door suddenly swings open, and Yoojung nearly jumps out of her chair.

Kyungmi leans next to your ear and whispers, “If I get left alone with Yunho, I will devour him.”

“You don’t even look him in the eye when he says ‘hi’ to you.”

“Give me time,” she murmurs as her eyes land on her prey.

You swiftly remind her, “Mina will kill you.”

“Only if it turns out badly…”

“You’re a little late to help,” Mina playfully scolds as Yunho walks over to greet all of you.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he pouts.

“It’s fine. You want a piece of birthday cake?” She offers, already standing to head to the kitchen.

“Sure,” he smiles and looks to you, “Happy birthday.”

You thank him as he makes himself comfortable in the chair next to you.

“Mina was sitting there,” Yoojung mumbles from across the table, clearly shy knowing what she knows now.

“She’s not going to let me eat in the living room.”

As Yoojung opens her mouth, Kyungmi cuts her off.

“Show us a picture of your car.”

Yunho grins, pulls out his phone, and turns the screen around.

“You think you’re in Mad Max or something?”

He confusedly hums.

“Why did you get a car with all those bars, lights, and gigantic wheels? Who are you fighting on the road?”

“Everyone, I guess,” Yunho laughs, “I like to go hiking, and sometimes you have to off-road a bit to get to the best paths.”

His attention goes back to his phone to close out of all his apps, and Kyungmi mouths to Yoojung, “You can have him.”

Yoojung pleads with her eyes for Kyungmi to stop.

“Yunho, get out of my seat,” Mina demands, withholding his cake.

“Where am I supposed to eat then?”

“The living room?” She answers as if it should be obvious and hands off the plate when he stands.

“'Master has given Dobby a sock.’”

“I have no idea what that’s from, but get the fuck out of here.”

He scurries off to join the other guys on the couch.

“God, you’d be a terrifying mom,” Sejeong laughs.

Kyungmi piggybacks off that, “When are you gonna have kids?”

“We don’t know yet,” Mingi answers from the living room.

Mina’s head jerks in his direction before she corrects him, “Not anytime soon. Maybe like a year or two after we get married.”

“Why?”

Her man’s dumb question summons her, and the bridesmaids follow the drama into the next room.

“We are not raising our kids in an apartment. Do you not remember our conversation about saving for a house?”

“We didn’t have that conversation?” His eyes shift around looking for anything to spark his memory.

“I told you to start putting money aside!”

Her angry rant fades into the background as Sejeong turns to you.

“That’s my cue to leave.”

She yells goodbyes over Mina to everyone else before exiting the apartment. The lively conversation in the living room continues, but you don’t bother joining them.

Alone, an all too familiar depression falls over you. You knew Mina didn’t want to raise kids in an apartment, but she never told you that she is making actual plans for it to happen. You can’t even imagine affording a house… or a nice car.

And what pisses you off the most is that San is somehow creeping around in your mind amidst this life crisis. How does that man have you in such a chokehold? Him just looking at you has you thinking about him for days.

You want him to feel how he makes you feel. You want the little things you do to drive him insane and the things you say to linger in his ears. You want to be the only thing living in his mind as he tries to fall asleep at night but can’t because of you. You would be satisfied if he even thought of you out of the blue, unprovoked. Sometimes, he’s the only thing you can think about, and it isn’t fair.

To distract yourself, you decide to be more productive and grab some other decoration crafts out of the cardboard box tucked away in the corner of the dining room. You struggle to open the bag of glass rocks and with one particularly hard tug, rip it almost in half. The rocks skitter across the dining table, some falling off the edges. Sitting down adjacent to you, Seonghwa laughs and starts brushing the rocks on the table into a pile.

You urge him, “Don’t do it like that. You’re going to cut-”

He interrupts with a hiss, quickly retracting his hand from the table. Just as you are about to scold him, he flashes the woundless palm of his hand.

“Just kidding,” he says with a grin and resumes cleaning up.

“I’m getting too old for you to be pulling pranks like that. One day, I’m just gonna drop dead from a heart attack because of you.”

He chuckles at your dramatics, “You’re not that old. I don’t remember you being this clumsy when we worked together.”

“I didn’t have that much on my mind back then.”

“What are you worried about?”

You can’t talk to him about the wedding, your inexplicable loneliness, or the gray hair you found in your hairline this morning. You definitely can’t say anything about San.

“Just things.”

He stares at you, hoping you’ll indulge more, but you don’t and change the subject.

“I remember when you were hired,” you say, reminiscing on those days when he was fresh out of high school, learning how to live on his own, “I was surprised to see you that night Mina introduced me to Mingi.”

“Yeah, suddenly my serious, hardworking colleague was a goofy girl horrible at board games.”

“Hey, I’m not that horrible now.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You softly chuckle but it fades, “You were my favorite sales associate, and you always brought in so many customers.”

He gazes at you, trying to suppress his smile.

“I miss you working at the store.”

“I miss it sometimes, but I went to school so I wouldn’t have to work in retail.”

Involuntarily, your face drops, your reflexes failing to bring up your usual facade.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t mean it like that,” you reassure him and quietly continue, “I went to school for the same reason.”

As he sits there trying to find the words to undo what he has said, you resume working on the decoration. You know he wasn’t thinking in the moment and wasn’t trying to be malicious, but it still hurt. He only confirmed your negative thoughts about your unsuccessful career growth. After a few silent moments, he timidly changes the subject.

“I heard Mark has been texting you.”

“Yeah, he did a while back, but I ignored him.”

“Good… He was a piece of shit to you.”

You hum quietly in agreement.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asks, his puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

“No, much to Mina’s dismay. I don’t have the time.”

“Same.”

“How’s grad school going?”

“It’s… going.”

“Is it hard since you’re also working?”

“Yeah, I barely have time for myself.”

Maybe you going back would be a bad idea. If Seonghwa, the most diligent student and worker, is struggling, how would you survive?

“But I’m managing,” he adds, “I finished a paper right before coming over here.”

“You must be tired.”

He nods enthusiastically, his focus on the vase in his hand as he carefully drops some glass rocks inside.

“I know you haven’t been able to be involved in the wedding stuff, but you could’ve stayed home and rested. I’m sure Mina and Mingi would understand.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t miss seeing you on your birthday.”

“I would also understand.”

“That wouldn’t stop me.”

His smile as he says that stays in your mind the rest of the night, but something else looms heavily over your thoughts. Choi goddamn San. Even after you return home, that little shit is still pissing you off.

“’I’ll see you tonight,’” you mimic as you enter your bedroom, “Fuck off.”

You pull out a fresh set of flannel pajamas from your dresser and begin your nightly routine. Traces of Seonghwa’s cologne are faint on your shirt. Warm vanilla and spice bring you comfort in knowing how good of a friend he is.

But your mind drifts back to this morning. The image of San ambling through your store with a small, endearing smile is stuck on replay in your head. He was technically the first to tell you ‘happy birthday’ in person, Mina having beat him by texting you at midnight. He even remembers your stupid first kiss story. His playful words ring in your ears. You think about his scoop neck top and how defined his collarbones are.

A part of you wants to give in to him. This could be like a hall pass, couldn’t it? Just a one-time thing. The two of you know damn well you can’t do that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t desire a small taste of what he can give.

A knock on your door this late at night has you confused. Through the peephole, you find San standing there, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. Did you just manifest him?

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you open the door.

“I heard you were asking about me.” He grins before inviting himself in like before.

“Yeah, because we had a lot to do today, and you were out being a fuck boy,” you say with unnecessary spite.

“Fuck boy?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah.” You cross your arms over your chest and watch him make himself at home on your couch. Following suit, you stiffly sit on the opposite end.

“Is that really what you think I was doing?” He asks and receives silence, “A friend I haven’t seen in a while invited me to dinner. I wasn’t going to go, but Mina told me I should.”

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. You always assume he’s doing something of that nature when he’s not around; it’s an immature tendency of yours.

“You always shame me for the things I’ve done, but I have never judged you for your past actions. I know that I flirt and tease a lot, but I have feelings, too, you know. I didn’t want them and avoided them with one fuck after another,” he pauses, “But that doesn’t work anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes are fixed on the floor, him seemingly in deep thought. He shakes his head after a few seconds, and you offer up the only piece of advice you can remember off the top of your head.

“Sex never solves anything.”

He slightly nods, “I didn’t think I deserved love.”

“Why not?”

He faintly shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already done what I did… I guess I’ll just always be known as a fuck boy.”

The look in his eyes completely fills you with guilt.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He stands from your couch.

“It’s whatever… Anyway, I got this for you for your birthday.” He pulls a small box out of his jacket pocket, and you immediately feel sick to your stomach. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He leaves you alone in your apartment to drown in guilt. You don’t know if you want to cry or throw up. This sinking feeling consumes you quickly. As you open the box, the logo of your store stares back at you on a $5 gift card. Any regret you have for berating him is thrown out the window as you reach for your phone.

From: You I fucking hate you. 10:08 PM

From: San🖕 😘 10:09 PM

From: San🖕 Tell Sammy I said thanks for the help! 10:09 PM

Him mentioning your employee by name absolutely sends you reeling.

From: You Fuck off. 10:10 PM

From: San🖕 I’m joking. Your real present is at your door. 10:11 PM

He brought another one? Opening the front door, you find a large gift bag that is surprisingly very heavy. A part of you thinks he has given you a giant rock just to drive home the fact that he’s an asshole. But what’s actually inside makes you laugh in a good way.

There are several refill bottles of coconut, rose, and dessert food scents for your wall plugins, a few different coconut-scented candles mixed with other scents, one candle with a vague scent name, and a sparkly birthday card. Of course, you have to smell all of them, but first, you reach for the candle that sticks out. The moment the smell reaches your nose, your jaw drops and your cheeks heat up. It smells just like his cologne.

Knowing you’re not going to bed for a bit, you light one of the candles and let the warm, musky scent consume your apartment. It makes you feel like you have a man around the house without actually dealing with one. Although, as nice as it is to live without planning your life depending on someone else’s, it wouldn’t be so bad to no longer be alone.

You watch the flame flicker as you recall San’s vague responses to your questions. What happened to make him believe he didn’t deserve love? Millions of reasons run through your mind, but one keeps coming back up, mostly because you don’t want it to be true: he hurt someone who loved him. You don’t want to become an accidental victim of his. That thought is suppressed as you blow out the candle because your heart is drained from thinking about him.

Unfortunately, those thoughts are replaced by his face as he told you he will always be known as a fuck boy. Why couldn’t you have just kept that to yourself? He’s just so frustrating sometimes. His words and actions contradict each other. He doesn’t really open up while simultaneously prying into your life. You let all of that get the best of you and run your mouth. Yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem too angry with you.

Falling asleep, your brain pretends the lingering aroma is from San laying next to you like the chimerical dream he is.

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