#what if kim says 'fuck it. sure' to harry asking to give him a neck massage

[draconicace]

been thinking lately that harry must know a lot about anatomy. he was a gym teacher and now he's a detective; he knows all about muscle groups and what makes them tick. well what if he knows how to give a massage. what if kim keeps rubbing at the back of his neck because he has to bend his head at a weird angle constantly to write in his notebook. what if harry manages to fight through his anxiety over touching people for a moment because he knows he can help alleviate kim's neck pain. what then

[kitsuragi-appreciator]

Okay so- 

Harry/Kim.... right..?

Listen, you know that thing/trope with two people trying to like "act natural" in public or like blend in so they don't get caught by the bad guys they spying on or whatever?

So that with kim/harry pls. I want them undercover or plainclothes or whatever sussing them bad guys out when they need to blend in. Maybe Kim uses that thing about people being avoiding watching public affection

Ramblings below the cut

So he just grabs harry by the lapels and fuckn goes for it, full on smooching the life outta this poor bastard, 0-100 real quick(I mean full on, he got his leg hiked up around Harry's waist, hand running through the hair, necking like a couple teens in the corner(there is tongue)). As the people pass by and once they in the clear he steps back with his little "khm." and straight face picks up where they left off like nothing happened. Then Harry just standing there absolutely gobsmacked, stuck buffering like asgdfhadha.

*BREAKTHROUGH IMMINENT* DOES HDB IS GAY?

TASK ADDED - NEED TO FIND A WAY TO KISS KIM AGAIN???

---------------------------------------

Alternatively(slight nsfw), they on a stakeout or something and Harry just being the chatterbox that he is and Kim notices someone coming and is like "oh shit, need to shut harry up before they discover us" And of course he decides easiest way to do that is just kiss him so he can't talk. So he shuts him up with a kiss, something more chaste, like just press of the lips. But it works, Harry clams up. Kim pulls back with his finger to Harry's lips like *shush* and looks over to the danger. Harry nods in understanding, but Kim keeps his hand where it is against him.

idk where this taking place but they in like an alley or something so Kim also has him pinned up against the wall. And like Harry is INTO THAT(tm). So the tension just keeps ratcheting up between them as they keep up eye contact with eachother. And Harry being the little shit that he is decides he's 100% down for whatever is going on rn and decides to escalate, so he gives a little lick. And Kim does his little eyebrow raise like *you for real bro?* And Harry just doubles down and puts his heart into it cause fuck it, shoot your shot y'know? So he basically ends up with multiple of Kim's fingers in his mouth, and starts getting carried away and let's out a little moan cause he just having a good time tbh. To which Kim is like *!!!* and kinda panics cause they trying to stay hidden, so he brings up his other hand and puts it around Harry's neck with a bit of pressure as like a reminder that they supposed to be being quiet. But BIG MISTAKE there cause that's a THING for Harry so he lets out this big ass whimper/moan without meaning to that alerts the people around them. So they gotta hightail it outta there, running to wherever they hid the kineema and then pedal to the medal they escape. 

Turn to later at precinct they doing paperwork/forms about they stuff and neither one has really made any mention of what happened between them, it's getting later to the end of day. Kim casually asks Harry if he'd like a drive back to his apartment cause it's late so he doesn't have to walk. Harry like "sure". When they set out instead of heading in the direction of Harry's though they go opposite and Harry like *???* but doesn't really wanna say anything cause he feels chagrined over what happened, got it in his head that it was all him and he did a bad(tm). 

They pull up to Kim's apartment and Harry still not questioning anything just following Kim's lead, Kim’s like "Inside." no emotion or giving anything away, so Harry follows him up and once they inside he just like shyly by the door not knowing what's about to happen like *is Kim mad at me? gotta be, uh oh*

Then Kim turns on him and is like "I guess I've got to teach you how to be quiet/listen to what I ask/follow orders properly"

*cue like 3k of smut*

[evendeadlmthehero]

The Five Year Promise: A Night to Forget (1/10)

Summary: Y/N Stark, 20 year old superhero, makes a promise with a 16 year old Peter Parker after being cheated on, that if she hasn’t found love in the next 5 years, they’d finally go on a date. Then the snap happens. Y/N is gone and Peter isn’t.

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, angst

The Five Year Promise Masterlist

Part 2

2016, After the events of Civil War

“Harry,” you moaned as your nails scratched the surface of the skin on his back. Your toes curled as you were nearing the end.

You don’t know how this all started. All you know is that you and your boyfriend, Harry Osborne, were getting ready for your 6 month anniversary dinner at the most exclusive reasturant in New York.

You were wearing a red dress and apparently Harry had a fetish for red dresses. So here you are, makeup not as polished as it looked a few minutes and hair looking dishevelled.

“Patience babe,” Harry spoke as his eyes were screwed tight, thinking about the pressure between his hips. “I’m almost there.”

Your legs felt numb and you knew you were close. You were almost at climax before the door of your room was opened abruptly, making you quickly push Harry off you and dive under covers.

“I-,” Peter started, his face turning beet red as he realised what was going. Your hair was messy and both you and Harry were panting. It didn’t take a genius to guess what you were both up to. “Y-your Dad, Mr Stark, left to-to-“

“Fuck off Parker,” Harry cut him off, standing out of the bed in all his naked glory. “Can’t you see that we’re busy?”

Peter’s face went a darker shade of red, giving you a quick glance. You swear you could see his eyes glistening with tears but before you can make out exactly what it was, he quickly left the room, slamming the door with him.

Harry let out an infamous smirk, before turning around to you and walking towards you. “Now where were we?”

He leaned down to kiss you on your lips but you quickly moved your head to the side, causing him to kiss your cheek instead. “No Harry.”

“What do you mean no?” Harry scoffed, his eyes filling with rage, before realisation. He let out a bitter laugh before facing you. “Are you serious? You’re mad because I told Parker to fuck off?”

You got out of the bed and begun dressing up, picking up the shirt from the floor. “You have to be soft on him, he’s like a little boy. My dad is in love with him, he’d kill you if he found out you were rude to him.”

“He’d also kill me if he found out I’m fucking his daughter but that’s not stoping me,” Harry laughed, expecting a laugh from you, but it didn’t come out. You let out a sigh, shaking your head at his vulgar words and lack of respect for your father.

“Oh come on Y/N it was a joke!”

You rolled your eyes at him, wearing your shorts and hanging your red dress back in your wardrobe. “I’m going to go check up on him. One, to make sure he’s not crying because of you and two, to make sure he doesn’t tell dad what we were doing. He still thinks I’m a virgin.”

“Peter’s scared of me, of course he won’t tell,” Harry scoffed at you, watching you tie your hair up into a bun. “I mean he’s just an intern. I’m Y/N Stark’s boyfriend. He isn’t that important anyway.”

You let out a snort in your head at the comment. No one but your Dad and yourself, as well as some of the Avengers, knew who Peter Parker actually was.

“My Dad likes him more than he likes you,” you commented, turning around to look at him. “I’m going to check up on him.”

“Fine,” Harry spat out, getting up from your bed. You watched as he angrily put his suit back on. He chucked his tie around his neck and frustratedly shook his head at you.

“So much for 6 month anniversary. Go have fun being a fucking baby sitter.”

He looked at you one last time before leaving your room, slamming the door shut. You let out a sigh, closing your eyes for a minute.

Harry didn’t like Peter and vice versa. Harry was mad that your dad liked Peter more and Peter didn’t like Harry because he bullied the little kid and always made out in front of him with you to gross him out.

Or at least that’s why you thought Harry did it. The reason why Harry really did it is because he could sense that Peter had a crush on you so he did it to piss him off. And every time he did it, Peter would storm him, making him smirk in victory.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where’s Peter right now?” you asked her.

“In his room Ms Stark.”

You turn around, open the door of your room and leave, walking towards the direction of Peter’s temporary room that was set up just to make sure his Aunt really believed this is an internship.

A couple of months ago, Peter was found by your father and bought in to fight the other Avengers who had gone rouge. You were first apprehensive, with him still being a teenager, but then you remembered when you discovered quantum technology and fought in the battle of New York at 15 years old.

You were able to harness quantum particles into bands that you wore around your wrists to shoot energy blasts as strong as Wanda’s energy blasts. You then figured that if you put bands around your ankles, you could use the power and pressure of the energy blasts to fly; similarly to your father.

Your suit was inspired by Black Widow’s suit, because you loved her. She was like a mother figure to you, only tied to Pepper who took care of you 24/7 and called you everyday. Natasha inspired you a lot, as she was the first female avenger and always gave you advice and girl talk.

She loved you like you were her own and you loved her due to the lack of mother figures in your life. But during 2006 to 2012, you had gained two mothers and you were estactic.

However, instead of having your suit black, you made your suit white with blue outlining (because you loved Kim Possible as a child and her look in her movie). Your alias that people had created for you was Quasar, which you thought was an ugly name but got used to after a little google search on what it meant.

Peter was fanboying the moment he met you, but not as much as he did when he met your dad. The boy lacked a father figure and used your father as the missing piece. And you couldn’t blame him, you knew exactly how it felt.

You finally make it to Peter’s door and knock on it carefully. “Peter?”

There was no reply so you let out a sigh. “Peter listen. I’m sorry about Harry. He can be a little rude and aggressive sometimes.”

“Then why are you with him?” You heard a little voice say behind the door.

You’re quiet for a secound, angry at yourself for letting Harry make Peter this upset. “Maybe when you’re my age, you’ll understand what love can do to you.”

The moment that left your lips, the door was pulled open and you were greeting by a tearful Parker boy. “Love? Is that what you call that between you guys?”

“Peter-“

“You mean when he forgets your birthday on the Y/B/D. Or how you don’t like those fancy restaurants he takes you to, you like Y/F/R. Or how- how sometimes you don’t like wearing revealing clothing because of your scars, but I guess he doesn’t mind as long as other boys don’t perv on you!” Peter rambled, his face getting redder by the minute.

At first, you were shocked he knew those things about you, with the last thing being the most personal. But then you saw the look on Peter’s face and realised this little kid saw you as a sister, and he just wanted to best for you. “Hey Peter, how about we go inside your room, yeah?”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, before swallowing nervously.

“Yeah,” he replied back in a tiny voice, wiping his tears with the sleeves of his shirt. He then moved to the side, letting you in his room.

You walk in, seeing posters of Star Wars and lego pieces scrambled on the floor. You smiled in your head, ‘classic Pete’, you thought.

You sat on Peter’s bed, nodding at him to come over. Peter stares at you for a while, thinking how beautiful you are. How smart you are. How funny you are.

He remembered the day he met you. He had landed down at Germany, where he’d soon fight Captain America. But before he did, he heard a knock on the door of his hotel room.

And there you were, with a beaming smile he’d never forget. You dressed up in a black leather jacket, sunglasses on your forehead and black jeans accompanied by black combat shoes. You were wearing a dark red singlet with a matching lipstick. To Peter, you were absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Stark,” you stuck your hand out at the Parker boy while he looked at you dumbstruck. Because you were Y/N Stark.

Y/N Stark, named the top ten most hottest female celebrity in the world.

Y/N Stark, the girl everyone spoke about at his school.

Y/N Stark, the girl who discovered how to harness Quantum energy into bands, making her just as powerful, if not more, as Thor the god of thunder himself.

Y/N Stark, now standing outside his door with a smile on her face like it was nothing. “I-I- shit your Y/N Stark.”

And then you giggled. That kind of giggle that made Peter blush. That kind of giggle that made Peter realise he was going to lose his sanity with you around.

And now you were sitting on his bed, with his tear blotched eyes looking at you apprehensively. “C’mon spidey.”

He let out a little smile at that nickname before sitting beside you, his muscles a little tense. You laughed at him, hitting his shoulder playfully.

“Relax I’m not going to scold you.”

Peter let loose a little bit, but he was still tense. How could he not be? He just revealed the things he knew about her. Were you weirded out? Scared of him? He didn’t know and that had him panicked.

“Pete, I want you to know that you mean a lot to me,” you begun. Peter’s heart quickened at your words, but his body turned cold as he heard your next words.

“You’re like part of this family and I know family look out for each other. But Harry is good. He’s nice. And I know you two don’t get along. But that’s because he’s mad that dad likes you more,” you chuckled at that. “But I really like him Pete. I love him. And I hope you two get along one day because you two both mean the world to me. You’re more than Spider-Man and he’s more than the tough guy act he puts out..”

Peter sighed, looking down at his palms. He gave you a little nod, making you smile at him. He hated that he couldn’t tell you how he felt. He hated how there was an age gap between you two, and how you saw him as a little brother.

He wished he was older. Maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance with you. And if he did have that chance, he’d treat you like an angel. He’d treat you how you were meant to be treated and not like how Harry treated you.

Like a little token to show off to paparazzi and keep his little Osborn name in the news.

“Good night Pete,” you whispered as you got up from his bed, walking over to his door. Before you opened, an uncomfortable look plastered itself on your face. “And Peter?”

Peter looked up from his hands to look at her.

“Please don’t tell Dad what you saw?”

And in that comment, Peter felt like absolute shit. Like you only came here to make sure he wouldn’t say a word to her father, not because you actually cared.

‘Why would she care?’ He thought in his head. ‘She’s Y/N Stark. She’s a daughter of a billionaire, dating the son of another billionaire. I’m a kid who can’t give her what she deserves.’

“Yeah sure,” he replied instead, giving you a small smile. You smiled back, giving him one last look before leaving his room.

Leaving Peter on his own.

Taglist:

@kissingtrutharchives

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@clockblobber

@im-a-stranger-thing

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@spidermansmj14

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@lordofthunderthr

[sugar-petals]

SuperM as Subs

↪ A/N. UGH these guys have me fucking spiraling. very excited to bring you this, please indulge 👀

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub, kinks galore, gender-neutral dom!reader

3.5k words | bullet points | this is all over the place there is so much to say i—

⌈ ten

— motto: kitten has ‘ten’ in it, but so does intense.

wowza honey

best choke out you’ll find

the stamina, too, oh lord. ten can handle a lightning fast riding without blowing up in two minutes

all while you choke him

with a waist harness on and ankles bound

bondage looks so good on him; he’s flexible and enduring. imagine a hogtie... art. 

such a beautiful man.

literally, rope marks, imagine that

we need to talk about his pain threshold as well there

things that have other guys screaming are a mere tickle to him

i can’t emphasize enough how lucky you’ll be. this fella does not have to be trained much. experience? abundant. talent? more than vast. he knows precisely how far he can go with what kind of kink. that is invaluable.

and now, the most mind-blowing part. stress: he encourages you to take it all out on him. in his mind, that’s an extra treat and a promise he gets it raw how he loves it. 

your satisfaction is his fuel, as is seeing you unwind. 

the whole progression from heavy beginnings to breathless ends

the boy needs you to go, for the lack of a better word, buck-wild

so yes, ten is your number one (pun intended) address for all things messy. he asks you to hatefuck him, you spoil him with it.

the sheer masochism of him

are you kidding me

listen i’m not a fan of the sin concept but in this case... you can sin all you want with him

tl;dr: angry sex is his thing. strong emotions. guts will be rearranged.

about the elephant in the room: yeah, this guy can bust some extraterrestrial, dazzling, sexy as hell moves

that means one thing. contortionism. you can bend him into every position you desire and fuck him like that. he’s petite but don’t worry. your babe’s strong

in fact, you can sit on his face and get one ferocious rimming daily

things will get wet wetter wettest

surprise surprise vice versa he likes his own ass filled with plugs and vibrators

the type that buzzes him into a delirium while you slap him. with his neck turning red and those pretty almond eyes going wide. 

they do hold the universe. he’s just so enthralling.

btw. talking about toys. having a fleshlight ready to make him moan and ruin his orgasm is a veeery good idea.

chances are you will draw cute english or thai interjections from him

in return, you can call him your prince and kiss him all over for aftercare. he’s no different, thinking of you as someone figuratively and literally noble to him. he’s thankful you fulfill his greatest sexual dreams. it’s true, you’ll really worship each other.

he’ll do his little mona lisa smile and doze off in your lap...

sub!ten is just priceless okay

10/10

i need a moment

⌈ kai

— motto: local strip club found bankrupt.

oh mY GOD nini

he knows how it’s done

did he go to sub school or something

you’ll find him at the stove around 6:30 AM in his apron

making you breakfast pretty much butt naked otherwise

flustered and sexy butler kim right at your service

looking very sculpted

dancing a little, as usual, he’s getting into it

in other words, you’re sure to get those eggs fried well

now, besides his skimpy clothing and waiter allure

kai as a submissive is almost definite to be an epitome of organization. he’s just good at it. period. lube and protection are always in the house.

you do your part doing maintenance for toys and cracking the occasional whip but really i mean... as the great oh sehun once said... never don’t mind about a thing when jongin gets the chance to put something in order

so lean back — kai is a service sub. he’s the type who wants to break a sweat for you

and have that very visible because he doesn’t own clothes anyway. well, well.

something more about organization

fucking according to a schedule sounds about right

you have it all planned out with a special calendar book just for that purpose

but don’t believe he’ll be boring and hyper-structured beyond that

kai is the precise opposite of dull as a lover but that’s a huge duh

he has both the acute sense of bashful romance and strong erotic feelings that come with a regular eyebrow wiggle

he likes to provoke the wild animal in his partner

reckless abandon

kai is 100% guaranteed to make you let out the beast. he enjoys feeling you go all out and grip him, pin him. everything hands-on is good.

grinding and gyrating is always part of sex. hell, even floating and flying. fuck gravity.

you need a certain level of dexterity. and hey if you don’t, you will pick it up from him in a solid minute

what i’m trying to say is that it won’t happen that the two of you rub against each other in the sheets like two blocks of wood (even when going into aftercare!). it will be fluid, ever-moving, energetic right and left with the mattress creaking all over the damn place

sex with jongin is one thing for sure: fucking fast. he won’t mess up his tempo if you know what i mean. the two of you will be thrusting and moaning until complete fatigue sets in

he whines a lot i’m telling you

it’s the surefire way to know kai is into it, being genuinely vocal is one of his best qualities as a sub

besides handling any rough pace 

this guy will have you sneaking into his gym room and have a quickie on the next best workout bench

and lord knows what else. 

the bathroom is another destination. wet!kai, the yearning romeo, is an image you won’t forget

prepare to get your hands on all of that

he’s gonna melt right into ya

and that is sub!kai for you

⌈ taeyong

— motto: vanilla? hardly heard of her.

to use an nct pun: the options are— limitless.

and another: you’re signed up for a... long flight.

and you’re gonna be the: boss

who gives it to him

and i’m warning you

he’s shy about it but

taeyong is simply insatiable. take his kinky reputation at face value.

what doesn’t he do

the softest softcore (feathers to tease him) to the hardest hardcore (edge play, hallelujah), the whole spectrum without any efforts for transitions

so you guessed it, a normal bedroom really won’t do.

neither does a standard dom

but since you’re knee deep into taeyong — go figure, you’re reading this — news flash you likely aren’t one

plug in all of your toys and cameras for date night. he needs his good dose of lube-dripping fantasy, homemade with a bunch of latex thrown into the mix

yeah i know that will escalate quickly

he wears it well i’m telling you

and also greatly enjoys you donning it for friday evening

it will frustrate him to the max which is a sight to see indeed

no other sub in super m gets harder boners over latex. that’s how it is. he’s just so drawn to the material and how much authority it gives you in particular

noona/oppa kink incarnate

hell, even daddy/mommy

he calls you that when you are forehead to forehead and catching your breath

because man these orgasms are going to get you so high, bodies gently intertwined

and very, very drenched

not just skin-wise

so let me underline this

your dear taeyong, no matter how innocently he can blink at you, gets his daily nutrient intake from cum. 

what fancy-schmancy protein shake is he interested in other than yours like literally none

put him on a leash together with baekhyun and you have two salivating, ultra dirty boys

so ready to please and swallow everything up

taeyong is a handsome handful

you’ll be horny 24/7

or 23/7 maybe because aftercare

where we revert back to adorable yong. he clings to you a lot, you nuzzle him all the time, the affection is off the charts

he’s pouty and sweet, smiling to himself

holding him tight gives him a big sense of security. 

safe to say he wants everybody to know he belongs to you in terms of PDA, too

it’s not restricted to domestic intimacy and sexual aftermath

taeyong truly has the perfect ratio of freaky and soft

god worked hard on him

⌈ lucas

— motto: when bigger is better, things get wetter...

ready for take off are we 

yukhei is one flirty crackhead you’ll love it

teasing will go back and forth

there might even be play fights and wrestling involved. messing around on sofas and carpets, you know the deal. things won’t get too rowdy, he’s being his 6′ baby self and you don’t want to use your whole bag of tricks yet vice versa

lucas eventually lets you win anyways

and acts like he’s lethally injured ffs

he’s an aquarius don’t come for him they roll that way

in comes the patient-doctor roleplay. yep that’s how the story goes

and you sure as hell get to take care of um

luke’s big lightsaber

alright

it’s throbbing a bit too much and needs medicine

so think of yourself as a jedi master training your disciple.

read: edging the living soul out of him. 

rough handjobs are just perfect

as is going on a rodeo trip getting the guy to tame those bucking hips with a lil punishment here and there. and with punishment i mean tickling even when he is close to orgasm

uh-oh

wong yukhei is a cutie pie but he has just about a bucket of cum for you spilling all over the place

he might get a lil embarrassed about it, that’s the sweetest thing

cleaning it up will be his greatest pleasure

so

ready for subby lucas yet?

he’s juicy

so what else do we have... 

(besides that he sounds like harry styles is dubbing him and that voice is going to turn you on so hard)

if his dominant doesn’t have an ounce of a muscle and biting kink that’s, how to put it, a missed opportunity

just licking him and leaving marks everywhere just has to be the biggest feast in history. you have him parade around sleeveless just to see the hickeys on his arms. 

and you don’t have to be frugal. it has to scream mine mine mine. yes, xuxi has some arm sensitivity going on. he needs your mouth on him doing chaotic stuff that leaves his jaw hanging open. to the point of you eating your brunch off his chest and shoulders.

there i said it 

breakfast with yukhei is cancelled. it’s breakfast on yukhei

as for positions: things are usually more chill and standard. just how much missionary will there be, you’ll lose count. he’s good at it. lucas has the condensed passion of ten people, it will be more arousing than you’d think. it’s also a good pause to your usual activities, you both get a chance to um take a breath

if he feels cocky, wong brathei likes to lift you up during sex and here we go again with a staring contest... which ends with a bright smile and kissing 

what did you expect

always remember this one thing. in his big himbo brain only one thought floats around and that. is. his. love. for. you.

a whipped boy

he’s irreplaceable.

patient xuxi reports speedy recovery

⌈ mark

— motto: good boys go to heaven after debuting a couple times more

sirs and sirettes, mark lee.

what did you think the “m” in super m stands for? mario, man, massive, market, model?

nope

SuperMark is what keeps the planet spinning

now here it goes

let’s get one assumption out of the way first

you’d think he fucks how he talks but you’ll be surprised

everything’s slow slow slow

the pace is very casual for someone who raps and thinks that fast

mark is just too friggin’ cute

a blushy cupcake

innocent and always curious what you’re up to

just perfect for all sorts of gentle dominance

you can reassure him when he gets nervous which happens every now and then

and put him into soft sweaters and blankets when he feels cold

maybe even building a pillow fort and just caressing him ad nauseam literally for minutes on end.

tousling his hair would be adorable beyond belief

the same goes for giving him cheesy pet names

or feeding him sweets

you can bet chocolate is his favorite. 

but it’s not just all about pampering him

keen how he is you can expect a lot of gestures of attention from mark, like carefully selected presents and foot massages

there’s a real gentleman at your hands.

a gentlemark

he might have come up with that himself 

you bet there will be lots of humor involved mark just can’t do serious sex

his intellect is yeahhh... superhuman

as much as his heart is squishy for you.

it’s hard out there. this world is tough

but mark is a safe haven to return to and have wholesome hours in bed with

30% sex, 70% aftercare.

you think that’s impossible? look into his puppy eyes and tell me all you’ll do won’t be spooning

it’s an art form and mark is just too inviting not to do a brush stroke on the canvas. 

and after you’re done spooning things are back to more caressing

a smooch left, a smooch right

for the 30% he might need a bit of outside support because his inner perfectionist compels him

so he’ll text johnny at 4:30 in the morning with urgent questions

because his mind is racing and he promised to wake you up with a set of spicy stuff

sex veteran johnny will calmly explain it to mark but also keep it short and simple

because man how early can someone text you 

and mark appreciates a crisp how-to that he won’t forget

even when you are chest to chest feeling each other’s breath and his brain almost shuts down

at the end of the day...

you say hey canada lemme get my hands on those big thighs of yours and ding ding his pants are off. he responds so easily to guidance

and his dancing skill always helps to get groovy with you

so

bust down markiana

you’re that bitch and you know it

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you and me, relax and ch...oking

leader on the streets 

screamer in the sheets

even the most peace-loving, noise-sensitive neighbors are going to dig the things that come out of his mouth as caused by you

just how good are his lungs

imagine him making audios for you. yes, god is real.

you just hit the lotto

the things his mouth can do 

byun baekhyun is a synonym of oral fixation when will merriam webster admit it

if there’s one person in super m who can nail the picture perfect drooling ahegao face without hesitation it’s him

he will pleasure you with his tongue so vigorously

that level of spit blowing will haunt you

and the slurpi—

THE NOISES. we can’t talk about the noises. nope, nope. the noises are not meant to be described to this world. 

you’ll suffer from incurable lust once you picture it

you know what his voice can cause

that would trigger a mass hysteria

anyway. moving on. 

baeks is the type to appreciate a mix of cheek-on-cheek cuddling and getting his brains banged out

you can toss him around, grab him by the hair, fuck him absolutely stupid

while also kissing his forehead and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. as if he doesn’t want you enough already this will have baekhyun needy for so long

he’s the king of slutty behavior

and making both of you crack up with mid-sex jokes about who knows what, suho’s butt mole or something

he’s just too hilarious. on the other hand he likes being creative and concentrated

in his free time you’ll probably find him reading erotic stories, sketching sexy stuff (i.e., well, you) in a journal, or even a manual to the kamasutra. it gets him all hot and bothered to the point where he can’t stop being chatty about it.

baekhyun’s arousal always first manifests as a wave of words or texts 

your part of the equation is distilling the essence of said texts and getting to work on that perky body of his

and praise him plenty. baekhyun loves a lot of verbal affirmations and you’re glad to shower him with it.

kink-wise: he really has a gazillion ideas to try

costumes, gags, whips, pet play, sounding, collars, semi-clothed sex, cock rings, suspensions, you name it

as the cherry on top, a three- and fourway could be part of your routine for sure. 

that being said he might have a few dicks in him physically or mechanically because geez bacon loves fucking machines and dildos

he is 100% ready to embark on one hell of an anal odyssey

how much he can stretch out you can probably guess. and he’ll make jokes about it either way to turn you on

you’ll be certain to exhaust and stuff your lil’ darling to the brim but i’m telling you what you already know

he’s gonna be the happiest ahegao boy in the world

and throw peace signs when you take pictures of him fucked out

that’s byunbaek for you. one of a kind

a subby gem

⌈ taemin

— motto: 500 points to slytherin! 

this is what you’ve been waiting for i know I KNOW

red carpets out for the sensual sub king and nation’s p.r.e.t.t.y. boy

the international bombshell blonde

a bdsm luminary

DEITY

now, listen. 

some erotic feats are truly hard to execute

but there is always one guy who’s the exception 

and his name is lee taemin

no matter how unrealistic or complex your imagination of sex with him is

with this man, most of it can become real

effortlessly

because he’s a) an open-minded lover b) rich enough to rent ten dungeons — per hour and c) closest to perfection we as a human race have ever come 

taemin is a pro at bringing all kinds of your and his fantasies to life. that’s why it’s important that you sit down to talk about how your intimate encounters could look like every other week

primarily, as far as his taste is concerned

we’ve all heard about his tales of creepypasta romance

literally he’s been an idol for so long and still comes up with new baffling ideal type stories

so according to those

he wants to be run over by you and thinks that’s hot,,, but i say... we stick to flipping him over... like on a bed,,, no car involved

this pal is macabre you have to be an embodiment of the law to rein him in

police roleplay much. arrest this provocateur!

furthermore and on a lighter note

besides being jailed

lo and behold, chained up and decked out in lace, draped on a lip-shaped art sofa is how he feels the most in his element

add a mask and a corset 

just how glamorous is he

this guy has mastered all techniques of drawing you in with the most elaborate seduction. 

tremendous!

including dance: for your eyes only. 

prepare to have your loins set on fire.

because within the 4 walls of your home his every move will be pure danger loaded with sexuality. it would be even more of a public menace than he already is when performed in front of a crowd

keep those handcuffs ready officer

because it is your mission to stop that guy 

the more restraints the better

put five harnesses on him i don’t care as long as it contains him

and once that’s done

taemin likes to be stimulated and teased with you running silk fabric all over his body

he also enjoys you creating artistic pin-up-esque photography of him

with sultry eyes and puckered lips

and no worries. taemin will put his plump lips to good use elsewhere, too. all. over. the. place. servicing his dominant is an honor.

and those moans will be like a melody.

the literal only weak spot he has

is to kiss and tell. taemin gets carried away in conversation and feels pride when the topic switches to you. so... if you lick his earlobe and call him your slave, jongin knows the very next day and finds it very entertaining. 

taemin won’t deliberately spill the beans in a group chat but one-on-one with a close friend? he’s too excited not to talk about your chemistry and lets some juicy details slip if he can’t control himself.

taemin requires a dom/me who’s definitely not insecure and wants others to know who’s boss.

on the flipside, if you enjoy voyeurism? he is your man. it’s a matter of perspective entirely.

so to speak — even his weakness is a strength.

that’s all you need to understand about him

in sum: you got yourself quite an ace 

taem will press your number and you’ll have no sorrow in the world.

we truly are blessed by his existence

peace out

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2019. all rights reserved. do not repost.

[littlemisswolfie]

i just complicate it

Continuation of this [x] crime against humanity. New Moon AU where Charlie calls Harry instead of Billy when Bella gets depressed, so Bella and Leah become very close.

Bella is confused, to say the least.

Leah’s been ignoring her for the past three fucking days, and now she can’t keep her hands to herself. Bella should be sitting a few rows back with Charlie, but Leah refused to let go of her hand and said “I need you,” and Bella felt a tug in her chest and now she’s sitting in the front row with a mourning family at a funeral for a man she barely knew.

What’s even more baffling is that Leah isn’t even paying attention to the funeral. In fact, Bella doesn’t think she’s looked at the burial canoe her father’s corpse rests in the whole time. Instead, as Bella stares resolutely forward at the line where the gray sky and the gray sea meet, she feels the burn of Leah’s stare on her neck. She’s still holding onto Bella’s hand, running her thumb over Bella’s knuckles in a way that is much more distracting than it has any right to be. Every broad stroke of Leah’s thumb against her skin sends electric tingles up and down Bella’s spine. The only other time she’s felt like this was...

Edward.

She’s still shocked she managed to say his name earlier. Usually just thinking about it sends her into one of her depressive episodes. But when she was angry at Leah, she felt like she’d do anything to get her to pay attention. Maybe that was why? Bella isn’t sure, and she’s too busy worrying about Leah’s sudden change in behavior to spend too much time thinking about it right now.

The funeral comes to a close. Bella can see Charlie waiting expectantly by the door, since they drove together, but Leah leans in and whispers, “I need to tell you something,” so she gives him an apologetic smile and promises to catch up with him later as they file away.

*

The house Leah brings Bella to is one she’s never seen before. It’s near the cliffs Bella once imagined throwing herself off of and a little smaller than some other houses Bella’s seen on the Rez, Leah starts for the small wooden steps leading up to the porch, still holding onto Bella’s hand, but pauses. “Don’t stare,” she says. “It upsets Sam.”

Sam? “Wait, your ex, Sam?” Bella reaches her free arm around Leah’s front to grab at her elbow and turn her around. “Leah, what the hell is going on?”

“I--” Leah glances towards the house and snaps her attention back to Bella. “Just come inside, please?” And that’s a surprise in and of itself, because Bella doesn’t think she’s ever heard Leah say please. “The others will be here soon and I think this will be easier to explain with fewer people.”

And there’s this pull in Bella’s chest, one that compels her to do what Leah says, so she says, “Okay, but this explanation better be good.”

The smile Leah gives her in return makes Bella’s legs go wobbly.

*

Leah bursts into the house, hand still clamped around Bella’s in an iron grip, and they startle a woman in the kitchen. When she turns to face them, Bella has to remind herself not to stare, because one half of her face is perfectly normal and the other is horribly scarred.”Leah?” the woman says, voice confused and thick, like she’s been crying. A closer look reveals red-rimmed eyes. “What--?”

But then Leah (finally) lets go of Bella’s hand to wrap her arms around the woman’s neck. The woman is obviously confused, but she returns the embrace easily, and something uncomfortable churns in Bella’s gut. “I’m sorry,” she hears Leah say into the woman’s ear. “I’m still mad at Sam, but I’m sorry I was so mad at you.”

And it suddenly makes sense. This is Emily, Leah’s cousin. The one who is now engaged to Leah’s ex. 

Emily’s eyes go wide and she peers over her shoulder at Bella. “What’s going on?” she asks.

Bella can only shake her head, because she doesn’t know a goddamned thing. Leah lifts her head from Emily’s neck, steps backward, and grabs onto Bella’s waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Emily’s eyes shoot down to the gesture and go even wider than they already are. “Are--?”

“We need to call a pack meeting,” Leah says. “I imprinted on Bella.”

*

And.

Well.

It looks like vampires aren’t the only inhuman things Bella’s found herself entangled in.

Great.

*

“What does imprinting mean?” Bella asks when Sam finishes explaining their roles as protectors. The tiny living room is packed full, with eight huge werewolves, Emily, another girl who was introduced to her as Kim, and Bella. There’s so little space that Bella finds herself perched on Leah’s lap, though from the way Leah’s arms are wrapped protectively around her middle, she doesn’t think she minds. 

(Jake, on the other hand, is staring at Leah’s hands, fingers interlocked and resting on the fabric over Bella’s belly button, like he could set them on fire with his mind. It hasn’t escaped Bella’s notice that her oldest and dearest friend is sitting as far away from them as the room will allow.)

Sam and another boy--Bella thinks his name starts with a J, but there were too many introductions too quickly for her to remember them all--both open their mouths to answer, but Leah growls, the sound reverberating through Bella’s chest, and that makes them stop. “I’ll explain that,” she says, and her voice is so close to Bella’s ear that it makes her shiver a little bit. Leah’s hands move from over Bella’s stomach to grasp at her hips and she turns her sideways so that she can look up into Leah’s face. “An imprint is supposed to be a gift from the gods. It was their way of making sure wolves knew who their mate was.”

Bella flushes red. “M-mate?”

“I--” Leah stops to take a breath. “Whatever you need, that’s what I am. I just need to be around you.”

“I--”

“That doesn’t make sense, though!” Jake’s outburst (thankfully) prevents Bella from having to formulate an actual response, and every head in the room snaps over to look at him. “The Elders say imprinting is about carrying on the shifting gene! Why would Leah imprint on another girl?”

One of the biggest boys in the room (Peter? Paul? Something like that) snorts from where the lays on the floor by Embry’s feet. “Shut up, chief. We all know you’re just jealous.”

“You--” Jake surges to his feet.

Sam cuts him off with a warning glance, and Jake, properly chastised, sinks back down onto the floor. “We also thought Seth was too young to shift, and that Leah wouldn’t shift at all,” he points out, and there’s a grumble of affirmation throughout the room. Bella has to stifle a smile. Men, she thinks. They all think they know everything. “Obviously the legends aren’t entirely accurate. We’ll have to fly blind.” Sam looks back at Bella and Leah, and Bella feels her spine straighten under his scrutinizing gaze. “I know this is a lot to handle all at once,” he says to Bella, “but I know you can do it. You were able to keep the Cullens’ secret, right?”

Bella nods. The name sends a spike of pain through her chest like it always does, but it’s a little duller than usual. Is this the power of the imprint?

“We’ll have to change up patrols now,” says the J-name wolf. “Leah will need time to be with Bella after school.”

“Patrols?” Bella asks.

Leah snorts derisively but draws Bella a little closer to her, belying her worry. “There’s a leech running around our forest. It’s the one that’s been killing hikers.”

Bella’s gut tightens. “What do they look like?” she asks.

The wolf sprawled on the floor scowls. “What’s that matter? It’ll be dead soon enough.”

Sam cuts him a look and he shuts up. Leah answers, “It’s a woman with red hair.”

Bella’s mind spirals. Her heart rate picks up and she vaguely hears Leah swear before her large, warm hands are snaking under the hem of Bella’s black dress, and Bella should be mortified at being touched so intimately in front of a bunch of boys she barely knows, but Leah’s touch against her bare skin calms her. She’s not entirely relaxed, but she can breathe, and if she can breathe she can talk. “Victoria,” she says, gasping a little. “That’s Victoria.”

Sam leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “You know it?”

“Yeah,” says Bella. “She wants to kill me.”

Behind her, Leah growls.

<Previous | First | Next>

[jjkpls]

The Prince Charming (Harry Potter!AU #6) (G)

> genre : fluff, comedy

> pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

> words : 1.4k

> warning : bad pickup lines stolen from thetoptens ‘cheesiest pick up line’ list

> Kim Seokjin (Gryffindor, 7th yr) is super handsome, super interesting, super loved, super funny and overall super great (says he). So why don’t you want him back? (fluff, greasy *ss pick up lines)

“Are you from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only ten I see.” There's a long pause following. You're standing there in front of him, sucking your upper lip in and tilting your head slightly.

“I'm not sure what you mean.” You admit quietly, throwing a side glance to your friend who is looking as perplexed as you.

Seokjin's eyes fidget between the two of you. He opens his mouth a few times, wondering if he should try and elaborate. Maybe he mispronounced slightly? Or slurred his words too much because of like, timidness? It's not really in his habits to be misunderstood. First of all, because a clear eloquence is one of the keys to a successful journey -his dad says that, he's a man who carries himself like a king, chin pointed to the sky at all times, and articulates his words with a comical fierceness; Seokjin has noticed and tries to not pick up on it too much because his peers don't speak like that but it's hard not to be tempted, when he sees the effect Seokjin Sr has on his world. The second reason for him not being misunderstood is that people just listen to him. They're hanging from his very breath and never, ever miss a word of his. They just won't miss a chance. So why are you...?

“I just- never mind.” Seokjin twirls around, flapping the folds of his robe quite theatrically as he leaves in a rush, heading for the first closet he'll be able to hide his growing blush in.

But soon enough, he has to try again. Because it's you. And also, he was not raised a quitter. “Do you have a band-aid?” Seokjin watches your cute little head dropping in a flash, hair bobbing adorably in the air, as you start patting furiously at your pockets. He adds, with a sleek smirk on his plushy lips, “I scraped my knee when I fell for you.”

When you look up, eyebrows dropped in sorrow, you shake your head. “I don't but you should go see Madam Pomfrey, she'll surely be able to help you.” Seokjin sighs, dragging two pale fingers along the expanse of the majestic golden thread embroidery adorning the neck of his uniform.

“I'm not really hurt, ___.” And in retrospect, he might be. The way his heart constricts in his chest both from disappointment and for witnessing, once again, the pureness of your soul and kindness, is kind of painful. He smiles stiffly. “It's- I was just kidding.”

And then your face turns into the most confused expression he's ever seen. You stare at him for a while, as he just stares at you blankly, arms hanging poorly from his shoulders, looking kind of ridiculous for a Hogwarts Prince, whose ground he walks on tend to be cherished and any once of attention treasured. “Oh.” You just say, nodding your head even though he can tell you don't know why you're doing it. And again, he aborts the mission, jumping on some kid passing by, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, pretending he's been looking for them when he's never actually seen their face before. Thankgully, the gleaming eyes raised to his handsome face seem to hint that the kid doesn't mind the assault, so there's that.

This time, Seokjin decides he's had enough beating around the bushes. Because clearly you're playing dumb. He knows you. He knows everything there is to know about you. You're one of the best students of your year. You're praised on the daily by professors who grant you prizes that had never even existed before you just because they're so smitten by the sweetness of your character wrapping up your incredible intelligence. He's going to be bold and assertive. The way he was taught to be if he meant to obtain anything he wanted in this life. “Do you work for UPS? Because I could swear I saw you checking out my package.” And Seokjin is so proud of himself. So full of it. He allows himself a greasy bite on his bottom lip, bringing the pale colour a bright pink, before letting a blinding smirk take over his face.

“No, I don't, uhm- You're always saying the weirdest things, Seokjin.” You're chuckling awkwardly, playing with your fingers. And as always, you're not just leaving. You're staying right in front of him, your pretty polished shoes pointing his way, and your expression so warm and inviting. And he doesn't get it. How can you seem so relatively into him yet so cold to his advances? He couldn't be more distinct than that!

“Are you stupid? She's lived all her life in an exclusively wizardry village. She probably never heard about UPS.”

“Oh... That's right.” Namjoon sees the light bulb turn on in his friend's head, bringing light through his quite sad-looking eyes. “But, see, that's exactly the problem: I am stupid!” Seokjin is aiming a mean pointer at himself, face suddenly illuminated by the most excited expression. The most excited Namjoon's ever seen on someone claiming this loud that they're stupid.

“Uh...” Because what is he supposed to say? He wouldn't say it out loud. He's a friend. Friends don't say stuff like that. But he does. He does think his friend is a little empty up there.

“I'm handsome, rich and funny, right?” He counts on his fingers, raising one up for each new self-offered compliment, shaking his hands around furiously. He doesn't seem to notice the deep distress facing him. “I'm very charming too. Old people love me! But she is so intelligent. Why would she want me?”

“Are you- serious?”

“Maybe I should try more intellectual pickup lines?” He mumbles, fumbling in the pocket of his robe for his smartphone -that he's not supposed to have but managed to keep in Hogwarts thanks to his “connections”.

Namjoon watches him, typing furiously on the screen, probably looking for a new source of lame pick up lines. Because on top of being hopeless and dumb, he's very uncreative.“I don't think- Seokjin, she doesn't seem sensible to these kinds of things.”

“Yeah but with this face on top!” Seokjin gives him his brightest smile and a wink. On that note, Namjoon simply runs away because he suddenly felt a rush of nausea hit him.

And this time is The Time. Now Seokjin knows everything that went wrong during the other attempts. You're not dense nor playing dense. He was just being the fucking moron in these episodes, assuming you'd understand when, obviously, you two don't have the same background. And Seokjin is so grateful for his friend, Namjoon, who might have not gotten the looks, the money, or the presence, but only so that he would get the brains and therefore, complete the one thing Seokjin is missing. “Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you.”

Immediately, he gets a brand new reaction from you. Not the blank fish stare. Nor the nervous nibbling on your lip and fidgety tapping of your shoes. Your pretty little eyelashes slap a couple of times on your pretty little cheekbones. There's a quiet blush colouring your cheeks where they shape in a smile. He just remains there, striking his known to be best-looking pose, not saying anything because he's not sure what else to say and it seems to be going great and it needs to keep getting better so he should probably shut up to not mess it all up.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes, I am.” He announces, voice firm and low-pitched, in an almost perfect imitation of a strong confident man who's definitely not freaking out because, for the first time, he's successfully managed to flirt with his crush. You visibly swoon and that ends to fuel him up and soon, he's saying in an overflooding of self-assurance, “I've promised to a bunch of roses in the field to show them how beautiful you are.”

There you clap your hands against your mouth, muffling the squeal that escapes without warning. “Oh, Merlin’s Beard! Seokjin...” Your eyes fold in the most charming of slits, and there he knows he's finally got you. Truth be told it wasn't the face on top nor the more “intellectual” pickup lines that made it work this time. It was mostly due to the implication of a very concerned and merciful Namjoon, who decided to take matters in his own hands and overly clarify Seokjin's feelings and intentions to you, that made the magic happen. But he doesn't need to know that when you like him back anyway.

[krreader]

BTS reacting to you wearing a sexy Halloween costume.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language ; sex ; mentions of oral sex ; jimin’s part is a warning in itself, but if you like sinning, go right ahead :’) genre: smut ; crack

a/n: another episode of michelle exposing her kinks I guess, please add it to the list lol. anyways, I didn’t get around to post it last night, so I decided to post this one and the last today. hope you like it ♥

ask box | masterlist | masterlist for original stories | fandoms | faq

kim seokjin

Jin knew you were doing this on purpose. He knew that every time you bent forward, you made sure that he would see what was underneath your costume.. but you made sure that it was only him that saw it.

Because this was for his eyes and his eyes only.

“Excuse me,” he said to another idol friend and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind a moment later, “My car is downstairs..-”

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

And so about ten minutes later, you found yourself in the back of his car, already screaming his name as he was being quite rough today.

Maybe it was the costume..

min yoongi

“But.. that's not really a costume, is it? You're just wearing a nice dress,” Taehyung asked as he looked you up and down, “Why?”

“I'm going as Min Yoongi's girlfriend that he's going to fuck later, so I figured I might just wear a dress that gets him going,” you shrugged, Yoongi taking a sip from his drink with a proud smile.

“Your relationship is kind of weird.. but also really cool.”

You figured there was no point in a costume. It would be off relatively soon anyways and at least you could slip in and out of this dress really easily and you knew it was one of his favorite’s so.. win-win situation. 

jung hoseok

Hoseok really thought that going as Harry Potter characters would be fun. He thought it would not give him any weird thoughts. Sexual thoughts.

But even that costume you managed to turn into one that made him hard in a matter of seconds.

“You okay there, Potter?” you laughed as you sat down next to him, your hand rubbing over his thigh.

“How about you and I go into the nearest bathroom and you take care of this for me, hm?” he put a small kiss onto your neck that had you shiver immediately.

“And if I don't?”

“Then I'll have you do it here in front of everyone. The choice is yours.”

The thing is.. you knew he'd do it, knew he’d make you blow him in front of everyone, so you'd rather take the bathroom option.

kim namjoon

Namjoon and you drove here separately. He came here with his band members, you with a friend. So he hadn't seen your costume beforehand. If he had, he would have had a little chat with you about it.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk nudged his side, trying to get his attention since he was so focused on his phone, “Uh.. (Y/N).. looks..-”

“Hm?” and when he looked up, he saw what his younger member meant.

You looked amazing. Sexy, beautiful, breathtaking. Which was nice, obviously. But what wasn't nice, was that every other guy in the room seemed to think so too.

And before any of them could so much as walk over to you, he got up from the couch, wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him to kiss you deeply.

“Oh, hey,” you giggled.

“Stay by my side tonight, okay?”

“Or.. what?”

“Or,” he let his hand wander down, until he could lift up your dress and cup your naked ass, “You and I will go home a lot sooner than we thought.”

park jimin

“We're going to hell for this, I hope you know that,” Jimin pushed you inside the nearest bathroom and locked the door, before he picked you up and sat you on the sink.

He pulled out the priest costume he once wore for a Run episode tonight and because you wanted to at least slightly match his costume, you had decided to go as a nun.. just.. sexier.

And then he started having all these thoughts and, well.. that's how you ended up in this position.

“But it's going to be so worth it, father,” you grinned and it only grew wider when Jimin moaned just from the name itself and kissed you hungrily a second later.

kim taehyung

Taehyung thought a Halloween party meant wearing scary costumes and also slightly ugly costumes. And when you told him you wanted to dress up as the devil, he most certainly wasn't expecting.. well.. this.

“You look so good, (Y/N),” your friend hugged you tightly as you walked into the living room, Taehyung still staring at your ass, “And.. I think your boyfriend seems to think so too.”

It was only then that you turned around and started chuckling.

“You okay, baby?”

“I think we should go back home again, (Y/N).”

“Ah, and why's that?” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “What did you have in mind?”

“A few things,” but the most prominent one was already poking against your thigh.

jeon jeongguk

My god, he really tried to keep it together, but there was only so much he could do when you were running around in that maid outfit.

“Fuck it,” he got up from the couch and walked over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you upstairs into the nearest empty bedroom, before pushing you against the closed door.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” you laughed, but then moaned when you could feel his fingers between your legs.

“Don't complain tomorrow morning when you can't walk,” and with that, he roughly pushed you around and pulled down his pants.

Maybe this hasn’t been a kink of his before, but now you’d have to take out that maid costume a lot more in the near future, that’s for sure.

[minhoinator-writes]

Pairing: Kim Kibum/Choi Minho (side: Kim Jonghyun/Lee Taemin)

Rating: N/R

Word Count: 14,647

Links: AO3 // AFF

Summary: The morning is still far away / And I didn’t fall asleep... Laying on this flat sofa / I have too many thoughts, I can’t sleep tonight...

A/N: this is based on my crack theory that “I’m Home” is a response to “One of Those Nights”

Chapter 1: One of Those Nights

The ticking of the clock was too loud, and Kibum couldn’t sleep.

Everything was too loud after the lights were turned off -- the clock, the settling of the house, the wind outside, the static from the muted television. Hell, even the silence.

It was too loud; too much.

Kibum rolled over on the couch, staring at the drama rerun as it played on the screen. It was nearly impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep out here. But, if he slept in his own bed, his mind would betray him with thoughts of...him. Kibum closed his eyes, sighing heavily before he opened them again.

It had been almost six months since he and Minho had broken up, and five since they had last seen each other on the subway. He had been doing fine, until that day...until he saw how run-down Minho looked. Thinner than either of them liked with prominent eye bags, distracting Kibum from fully meeting his ex’s eye.

Why? Why had Minho chosen his job over him? In hindsight, perhaps an ultimatum hadn’t been the way to go, but at the time, Kibum had thought that Minho would have picked him.

He hugged himself a little tighter, inhaling the trace of Minho’s cologne that was still on the hoodie he was wearing.

”Come on, please?”

Minho laughed, holding up the small bottle of Memo Inlé to his old sweatshirt. “Why, though?” Kibum rolled his eyes, which made Minho chuckle before he pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll do it, baby, don’t worry. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“You’re just leaving for New York tonight and...and I’ll miss you… Stop looking at me like that,” he said, as Minho’s expression softened. Kibum averted his eyes with a smile when Minho started spraying the cologne.

“You know,” Minho said, as he leaned across Kibum to set the hoodie on Kibum’s side of the bed. “There are several ways I could make sure you remember me while I’m gone.”

Kibum leaned back against his pillows, his smile growing. “Several, huh?” Minho hummed as he nodded, and rolled over so that he was laying completely on top of Kibum. His breath hitched as Minho started trailing kisses from his neck to his bare chest. “Do we have enough time?”

“Well,” Minho propped his chin on Kibum’s sternum, giving a smug smile. “If we don’t, then we can always pick up where we left off when I get home. How...does...that…sound?” he asked, punctuating each word with another kiss down from his chest to his stomach to his thighs until he was laying between Kibum’s legs.

He didn’t give Kibum time to answer his question.

Kibum shook his head, refocusing on the drama as the credits rolled. It wouldn’t do to reminisce about the sex...and how good it always was… Because it wasn’t just the sex he missed, he missed everything. The god-awful songs Minho would sing in the shower when he was getting ready for work, the coffee and breakfast in bed on the weekends, the organized clutter around the house, just...his presence.

The house felt so empty, now.

He pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket, opening up his kakaotalk and then the messages between him and Minho. He read the last few, the stilted exchanges from after they broke up. Then, he started to type...not that he was intending to send it, of course, but he just needed to write what was going through his mind. His thoughts were meandering, but he wrote them all as they came, closing the app when he finished.

Blearily, he stared at the tv as the late-night home shopping show came on, watching the hosts ooo and ahh over gaudy jewelry until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

- - - - -

“Where do you want to hang the streamers?”

“Streamers?” Kibum asked, unable to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Both Jonghyun and Jinki watched him with wide eyes as he came out of the kitchen. “Why the fuck would you have streamers?”

“Because...it’s a...birthday party?” Jinki said, his gaze flicking between the other two as if he was unsure now what was actually happening.

“For a grown ass man…”

Jonghyun scoffed. “Pretty bold of you to assume that Taemin wouldn’t like streamers and balloons for his birthday. As the resident expert of what Taemin likes -- “

“Because he’s your boyfriend.”

“ -- I can confidently say that he would very much enjoy these. As well as sucking the helium out of the balloons that I have to go pick up...with the cake…”

“As long as there’s no helium in the cake,” Jinki said as he stood up on the couch to pin the streamer to the ceiling.

“Tape! Use tape!”

He dropped his arm, the streamer in his hand fluttering to the floor. “I’m not tall enough, anyway...I miss M -- “ Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a sharp look from Jonghyun.

As he had only been half-listening, Kibum glanced up at the awkward silence and squinted when Jonghyun gave him an uneasy grin. “What.”

“Jinki was about to say...the M-word.”

“Mud-blood?” Kibum frowned, looking up at Jinki. “I didn’t know you’ve seen Harry Potter…”

“What?” Jonghyun laughed. “No, Minho. He was about to say Minho.”

“Oh...oh, I mean...I’m fine, you can talk about him. I’m doing better, really…” he added when the other two looked unconvinced.

Jinki cleared his throat. “Where, um, can I find the tape?”

“Mi -- the office. The second bedroom,” he said, pointing over his shoulder to the dim hallway. Jonghyun twirled a bit of the streamer around his finger, and Kibum sighed. “Honestly, I’m okay. I wrote out my thoughts last night, and I think that helped a bit.”

“Where?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. “You can read it if you want to,” he said as he unlocked his phone. He cut Jonghyun off when he started to protest, opening the kakaotalk app. “I really don’t mind. It’s not a big de…”

Oh, fuck.

He had sent it. He had sent the message. Shit.

And, if that wasn’t already bad enough, Minho had read it, too. And not responded.

“Oh...my god.”

“What?” Kibum couldn’t respond, he could only pass the phone over to Jonghyun and sink into the couch as he read the text. “Oh no...Kibummie...were you drunk?”

“I wish! Then I could have an excuse!” He covered his face with his hands. “This is the worst possible scenario…”

“I found the tape!” Kibum didn’t move his hands, but he saw Jinki come around the couch through the slits between his fingers. “Do I even want to know?”

Kibum just groaned in response before finally sitting up and taking his phone out of Jonghyun’s hands. “I need more coffee. You guys -- ” he gestured to the room, hoping they would pick up on his wanting them to continue decorating.

He trudged into the kitchen, his heart heavy as he started to make another pot of coffee. Why hadn’t Minho responded? Did he really mean that little to him now? Did he ever?

“Do you know what I love most about you?” Minho asked, his fingers carding through Kibum’s hair as they caught up on Sky Castle.

“Hm?” He looked up when Minho didn’t answer right away and found him watching him. “What?”

“I swear, I had an answer, but now I just want to say ‘Everything’.” Kibum tried to suppress a smile but failed. “I can’t help it. You’re too amazing and I love you too much.”

Kibum squirmed, turning his head on Minho’s lap so he was facing the television. “Why are you so sappy today?”

“I missed you, so I’m allowed! Plus, you love it. Would you rather I be working?” he started reaching for the cascade of papers spilling out onto the coffee table. Kibum grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together before holding their hands against his chest. “Oh no,” he said drolly, a smile in his voice. “Now I’ll never meet my deadline...”

“What a terrible thing, I’m so sorry,” Kibum said, just as sarcastically, kissing the back of Minho’s hand when he chuckled. After a moment, Minho shifted, and Kibum glanced away from the television. “Do you really have to work?”

“I probably should, yeah. But I can finish watching this episode, don’t worry,” he said, squeezing Kibum’s hand. Kibum nodded with a sigh as he looked back at the television.

He did love him, at one point, at least. That much he knew for sure. Kibum just wished that he could let go of Minho as easily as Minho had let go of him...

- - - - -

7:55 // Do you at least have coffee for me?

Kibum looked up with the subway pulled into the station and quickly pocketed his phone as he made his way onto the train with the jumble of people. Hopefully, Taemin would remember to look at his phone sometime between now and Kibum’s next subway stop. He sucked his teeth at the man who had just bumped into him without apologizing.

Suppressing an exasperated sigh, Kibum reached up and grabbed one of the overhead straps before the train started moving again. “It’s too early for this bullshit,” he mumbled under his breath, bracing himself as the train started. He scanned the faces in the crowd around him, his gaze trailing back when he thought he spotted someone familiar in the car just ahead of him.

He blinked, disbelieving. Minho? Kibum instantly averted his eyes, turning around in case he had seen him...only to look back a moment later. Minho was still staring off into space. Even at this distance, Kibum could tell that his usually bright and cheery eyes were dull...almost lifeless.

It was a wonder Kibum could recognize him at all.

And, it wasn’t as if Minho didn’t know his job was soul-sucking...he made that comment multiple times in the years they were a couple. As sad as Kibum was to see him like this, anger flared up within him as well. If the train hadn’t been moving, he might have barged into the next car and demanded Minho explain his decision.

But then, Minho yawned, and his eyelids drooped further still. The heat of Kibum’s anger dissipated. Was this his life, now? Just the constant drudgery of work? Jinki had mentioned that he had tried several times to hang out with Minho, after work, and while Minho always said he would, he would also always call several hours later to say that he had gotten caught up at work.

Kibum looked up when the woman over the intercom announced the next stop, and then back to Minho to find him rousing himself. Their eyes met briefly, but Kibum looked away and didn’t see if Minho kept looking at him or not.

The train came to a stop, and Kibum kept a hold of his strap while others exited, watching for Taemin to get on. He waved when he spotted him, and Taemin barely made it onto the train before the doors closed. “No coffee?” he asked once Taemin made his way over to him.

“No?”

“I swear to God, if you don’t start reading your texts...”

“I do!”

“Not just the ones from Jjong.”

“I don’t!” Kibum scoffed, looking over Taemin’s head to where Minho had been, only to find him gone. “Besides, we can always get some coffee at the cafe.”

“I suppose.”

Luckily, Taemin was able to distract him with their ongoing discussion about new choreography to teach the trainees. Once they were off the subway and had their coffee, they went upstairs to the dance studios, splitting up when their groups arrived. He worked with his first group, perfecting their technique and correcting their movements until their session was up.

It would be fifteen or so minutes before his next crew would arrive, so Kibum took the time to stretch his limbs while he waited. He glanced around the room before he met his own gaze in the mirror.

He hadn’t noticed Minho standing there while he practiced the new choreography in their bathroom mirror. Not until he cleared his throat. Kibum glanced over at him, his face instantly turning beet red as he looked back in the mirror. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Minho said, his amusement evident in his voice as he moved behind him in the bathroom to inspect his own appearance before he left for work.

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”

Minho adjusted his tie pin, making eye contact with Kibum in the mirror. “Maybe I was thinking you’re the cutest, you ever consider that?”

“Were you?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not,” he added with a twinkle in his eye as he turned to Kibum, raising his eyebrows in question.

Kibum reached up and adjusted the knot of his tie before patting his chest. “Have a good day, I’ll see you later.”

He cupped Minho’s cheek with his hand as he leaned in to kiss him goodbye. “Missing you already,” he said, smiling into another kiss before he left Kibum’s side.

The door to the dance studio opened, and Kibum blinked as he looked away from the mirror. He scrambled to his feet, bowing in greeting to the trainees as they filed into the room.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, trying to drive any thought of Minho from his mind. “Let’s pick up where we left off.”

- - - - -

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Kibum leaned against it, and let out a heavy sigh. Lights from the city illuminated the darkened living room, and Kibum kicked off his shoes and shucked his jacket before he flicked on the lights.

His house was still in disarray after Taemin’s surprise party -- twisted streamers rocking back and forth because of the ceiling fan, the helium balloons drooping as they started their slow descent, and the mess of confetti covering everything.

It’s not like it mattered, that his house was a sty. He was the only one who ever saw it anyways...

Huffing, Kibum stepped forward, grimacing at the confetti that stuck to his bare feet. He went over to the side table and turned on the television, instantly relaxing at the sound of static and someone else’s voice filling the empty space. The fridge light was bright as he opened it, and he leaned against the door. “Fuck, I need to get groceries.”

There was literally only two plates of Taemin’s leftover birthday cake. Kibum grabbed one of the plates and went back into the living room, swiping some of the frosting and sucking it off of his finger as he plopped down on his couch. While he didn’t necessarily enjoy Running Man, he wasn’t in any mood to change the channel.

It had been...almost a week since he had seen Minho in the subway.

If he had been having a problem keeping Minho off of his mind before...it was nothing compared to how he was now.

Quite frankly, it was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

Maybe he needed to ask one of the others to set him up on a date. It was time, right? Seven months was long enough..he was just being pathetic at this point. He set his plate of cake down and pulled out his phone, checking the last message he sent him.

Still read. Still not responded to.

Kibum pursed his lips, tossing it into the pile of confetti on the couch. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d talk to Jonghyun about a blind date. He started brushing the confetti off of the couch so he could lay down. After a second, he stopped.

No.

It was time to actually sleep in his own bed, not the most uncomfortable couch on the goddamn planet. He grabbed his phone and stood, freezing mid-step when he heard a knock at the door. 11:46? Who the hell would be coming here this late?

Slowly, he approached the door, peeking through the peephole. Wait...Minho? Kibum leaned back, rubbing his eyes before he looked through again to make sure. Yep, it was him.

He jumped when there was another knock at the door.

Kibum, pressing his hand to his chest to soothe his erratically beating heart, took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. Once he pulled the door open, Minho immediately met his eyes. He still looked exhausted but perked up as Kibum leaned against the door jam. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey...”

“Can I come in?” Minho asked, his eyebrows raising. Any defenses that Kibum had been building came crashing down, and he pushed the door open a little wider.

Chapter 2: I’m Home

The figures on the sales report blurred together and Minho rubbed his eyes, attempting to refocus. It wasn’t like it was that late. He grabbed his phone, blinking slowly when he tapped the screen. Okay, so maybe it was. Still, he should finish reading over these reports, since he had that meeting with investors in the morning.

Yawning, Minho tossed his phone aside and stood, heading for the kitchen to make himself yet another cup of coffee. He tied his robe loosely around his waist, and he found only find one of his slippers on his way to the kitchen. The clock on the oven blinked 3:05 when he glanced at it on his way to his Keurig. He found the darkest roast he had and popped the pod it and started it brewing.

He grabbed the full cup of coffee, and replaced the new pod with a new, lighter roast. Minho doctored his coffee to his liking before the other cup finished brewing, and he stirred in the two teaspoons of sugar, just the way…

Oh, right. Kibum wasn’t here.

Maybe he should just go to sleep. Play catch up tomorrow.

He held the coffee cup over the sink, poised to pour it down the drain.

”Minho?”

He grinned at Kibum’s incredulous expression, holding up the coffee he had gotten for him. “Surprised?” He glanced down the hall when Kibum tried to peek over his shoulder. For the moment, there was no one to watch out for. “We’re good, I think.”

Kibum nodded for Minho to come inside his dance studio, taking both coffees from his hands and setting them on the chair halfway across the room. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow?”

“I took an earlier flight,” he said as he closed the door behind him. “I missed you too m – hey…” He couldn’t help his dopey smile as Kibum slipped into his personal space. Kibum wrapped his arms around Minho’s waist, pulling him just that much closer. “Did you miss me, too?”

“Maybe a little,” Kibum muttered into his skin as he left a trail of kisses up his neck. Minho couldn’t hold back his sigh, and Kibum chuckled as he leaned away to look into his eyes. “When do you have to go back?”

“To work?” Kibum hummed his answer, his eyes dropping to Minho’s lips for a second. “They still think I’m in New York.”

Kibum’s gaze instantly flicked up to meet Minho’s eyes. “Oh?”

“So…that means I have tomorrow off…”

“Hmm…we’ll have to think of something fun to do.”

Minho smiled when Kibum’s cheeks dimpled, and he carded his fingers through the hair on Kibum’s neck. As he leaned in, he stopped a fraction away from Kibum’s lips. “I’ll see you after you get off, baby.” Closing the distance between them, Minho kissed Kibum, smiling as Kibum pulled him closer, the kiss deepening…until…

The doorknob beside them jiggled, and they instantly broke apart. Kibum wiped his lips as Minho went over to grab his coffee from the chair. He smiled at the trainees as he passed them on his way out the door. “Who was that?” one of them asked Kibum.

“My roommate,” Kibum started to say as Minho closed the door behind him.

Sighing, Minho set Kibum’s cup of coffee aside and took up his own. He flicked the kitchen light off on his way back to the living room, taking an experimental sip of his coffee as he made his way back to the couch. He took another sip and glanced at his phone before he started to arrange the reports on the coffee table.

Wait…he had a notification?

He stared at the blinking orange light for a second. Who would be texting him right now? Maybe work…actually, probably work. His sense of duty was the only reason why he put down his coffee and picked up his phone.

But…it wasn’t work.

The Yeobo with the blue heart emoji after it burned into his eyes. Why had Kibum texted him? After all this time?

The Yeobo was a joke he had made almost a year ago when he had gotten home from work to find that Kibum had dinner waiting. It had embarrassed Kibum, which was adorable. So, he made quite the show of changing his name for him on kakaotalk, and…after they broke up, he hadn’t had the heart to change it back to Kibum.

Oh, he tried to several times, but every time he did, he would read through their old messages and he just…couldn’t.

The screen went black, and Minho unlocked his phone, immediately opening the message.

Yeobo 💙

3:07 // Honestly it’s stupid. It’s stupid how much I miss you. Even though you’re not here beside me, you are. Will I ever be able to get rid of you? As much as I want to or would like to, I can’t. I think you’re a part of me and you always will be. Do you miss me, too? Even a little bit? I hope so. I hope I irritate you with how much you think about me and I hope you remember us. What we were. What our future could of been. I’m trying hard to be strong, but the nights are long without you here. So are the days. Maybe I’m just lonely.

Minho’s grip tightened around his phone as he reread the message again and again. Did Kibum mean to send this? It didn’t seem like something he’d willingly admit unless he was drunk.

And even then.

Still, Minho started typing a response. I miss you too, so much it hurts. I wish we had never ended… He stopped, letting out a sigh as he started to backspace. Even though Kibum sent it, it felt like an accident. Like, he didn’t intend for Minho to read it. So, Minho exited out of the app and set his phone aside. He grabbed his coffee again and picked up the stack of reports.

* * * * *

Ring-ring…Ring-ring

Minho stirred, stretching to fumble with his alarm clock. With a shiver, he dropped his head back on the throw pillow, curling in on himself for a little extra warmth.

Ring-ring…Ring-ring

Yawning, Minho peeked over the arm of his couch, locating his phone before he picked it up. “Hello?”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” his father said into the receiver. Minho held back a scoff. Barely… “I wanted to discuss the meeting before you get here.”

Minho closed his eyes, setting his phone on his lap as he sat up. “Okay,” he said once he held up the phone again.

Why was his father so chipper in the morning? Maybe his secret was that he actually slept at a normal time. He listened as his father talked on and on about his expectations for him during the meeting, and switched from the living room phone to the one in his bathroom.

Minho looked into the mirror, his fingers tracing the bags under his eyes. He set the phone down, filling his hands with cool water and splashing it over his face. Hopefully, that would help. He picked up his phone again as he brushed his hair back with his fingers as his dad kept talking.

“Do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll do my best.” He flinched at his tone and braced himself as his father went silent on the other end.

“You haven’t been spending time with that Kibum again, have you?” When Minho didn’t answer him right away, his father took that to mean that he was. “I didn’t have to promote you, you know. You’re lucky Minseok started his own company so that you could do something with your life.”

“Father, I haven’t…I haven’t been.”

“I’ll see you when you get here.” The click on the other end signified the end of their discussion.

As much as he wanted to throw the receiver across the room, Minho walked it over to its place on the wall. He went into his walk-in closet, then, inspecting the sparse assortment of suits hanging there. Minho reached for the gray Givenchy suit, caressing the darker stripes with his thumb.

“I swear, if you don’t at least try on this fucking suit, I will dump you.”

Minho looked around, checking to see if the attendants were paying them any attention before he booped the tip of Kibum’s nose. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Okay, you’re right…but…think of the baby,” Kibum said, jutting his bottom lip out in the barest hint of aegyo.

Minho threw his head back, laughing hard enough for Kibum to shush him so he didn’t disturb the other customers. “Fine, I put it on, but just for you.”

“Why won’t you buy it?” Kibum asked as he trailed behind Minho on his way to the fitting room, sitting outside when Minho closed the door behind him

“My father said not to be too flashy with what I wear.” Minho smirked when Kibum started to laugh as he slipped out of his t-shirt and jeans. “Don’t you start.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see what’s so flashy about wearing black all the time.”

Minho zipped up his slacks, glancing at the closed door. “What? You think I should change?”

“I think…you should wear what makes you happy and confident.”

He finished tucking in his shirt then undid the top button before he shrugged on the jacket. “What do you think?” he asked, opening the door to let Kibum see. His boyfriend sat still, staring unblinkingly at Minho where he stood in the doorway. Minho could feel a smile curl his lips upward, and he unbuttoned the second, tugging at the collar to let just a bit more of his chest show. “Do you have any thoughts, or…”

“I…think…that we should buy this and go straight home.”

Gulping, Minho let go of the Givenchy suit, grabbing his plain navy one instead.

* * * * *

It had to be a trick.

His eyes must be deceiving him. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep last night, so perhaps his brain had conjured up exactly what he wanted to see. Who he longed to see.

Kibum was there, just in the other car on the subway. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and he looked away. But it was him. Looking healthy and as beautiful as ever. He blamed the tears stinging his eyes on his exhaustion, even if he knew that was just a lie he was telling himself. He blinked, driving them away, as the other passengers started to deboard the subway.

Oh, right, this was his stop. He had a plane to catch.

The journey to the airport, and even through security as well as boarding the plane, passed by in a blur. He had done it so many times, now. Too many. Minho stuffed his carry-on bag into the overhead bin, not even reacting when something fell out of the side pocket, bouncing off of his arm and onto the ground. He slid into his seat, slowly reaching down to grab it, only to find that one of the stewardesses got to it first.

“Is this yours?” she asked, holding up the little black box.

“Yes,” he said, his voice almost too quiet for her to hear, judging by the way she squinted an leaned closer to him. He held out his hand, and she placed it in his palm.

The ring box bit into his palm as he tightened his fist around it in his pocket. “Please, Minho, sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

He stared at his father, a silent plea in his gaze. A silent plea that was being firmly ignored. Minho took a deep breath, steeling himself, and sat down in the armchair opposite his father. “How did you know?”

“Your mother saw you two. At the mall. She said that you and…he were hanging all over each other.” Minho averted his eyes, his face heating. “I think it goes without saying that we don’t approve of your little tryst.”

Wow, what a huge surprise…He had no idea that would be the case.

“Do you…love him?”

“More than anything in the world,” Minho answered without thinking. His eyes widened a second later…he probably shouldn’t have said that… “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want with you? Nothing. ‘What do I expect from you?’ should have been your question.” Minho gritted his teeth, refusing to ask. “I expect that you’ll break it off with him immediately, and never see him again, or – “

“Or?”

“Or I will tell his boss that Kibum is a homosexual. I am friends with Sooman, after all. I’m sure you remember that.”

He did. Fuck…

“As long as you do that, I’ll keep the information to myself. I wouldn’t want you to cause any more shame on the family, as it is.”

Minho cursed himself as tears filled his eyes. Stay with Kibum, and risk poverty and ostracization for them both. Let him go, and rest assured that Kibum would be safe. When it came down to it, the decision was easy.

“Okay,” he said, raising his chin as he met his father’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”

The stewardess walked away, and Minho’s gaze slipped to the ring box. He remembered that day vividly – the day he had bought the ring. Jinki was there with him, as Jonghyun and Taemin could not be trusted with any secrets ever. It was a hard decision, narrowing down his choice for the perfect ring for Kibum. In the end, he decided on a thin silver band, five tiny diamonds etched into the top.

Honestly, it had been an impulse buy. He and Jinki had been at the mall to pick out a new coat for Jinki before the winter hit on one of Minho’s rare days off. But when they passed by the jewelry shop, Minho couldn’t help but stop and look at one of the rings that caught his eye, and they ended up scouring the selection to find the perfect one. He hadn’t been planning on proposing, not quite yet, but now that he had the ring…why not? Jinki entertained him for the rest of their time at the mall, coming up with ridiculous scenarios for Minho to propose.

He had almost forgotten that he carried it with him, still. It was a little piece of Kibum – even if he wasn’t aware of its existence – a little reminder of what they could have been.

The flight attendants started their safety spiel as the plane started to taxi onto the runway. Minho leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing. Hopefully, he would dream of happier times.

* * * * *

Deliberations in New York took longer than they needed to. They always did.

Minho opened his eyes when the elevator dinged, stepping forward and down the hall to his condo. His briefcase swung back and forth at his side, tapping against his leg as he fished in his pocket for his keys. Once the door was unlocked, he trudged inside, tossing the briefcase on the nearby sofa. He flopped down on the other, tucking himself easily into the curve of the couch.

If it wasn’t already enough – the neverending hours at work, the long flights, the general lack of sleep, the soul-crushing silence of the empty room – he hadn’t been able to get Kibum off of his mind. Not since the subway.

If he could only…see him again…speak with him one last time…beg for his forgiveness…then he might be satisfied.

He didn’t dream of happier times. Not on the flight, not when he tried to sleep in his hotel room. Not ever.

”So,” Kibum said, his previously impassive expression faltering with a quiver at his chin. “Which will it be?”

“Kibum…I – ��

“It shouldn’t be a hard decision, Minho. Me…or your job.”

Minho gulped, his shoulders sinking as his gaze fell to the floor. Ah, his time was up. When his father told him to break it off, he tried. He genuinely did. It was just…wanted to be selfish. To live on borrowed time, for a while. He knew their days were numbered, and he wanted to savor every he could with Kibum, memorizing everything.

But it was over now. He had driven him away.

He took as many hours as he could at work, barely making any time for Kibum. His Kibum. The sudden productivity from his son seemed to surprise Father, and he got a promotion at work. And with that, came more flights to and from the states and more responsibilities…and less time with his boyfriend.

It was only a matter of time before this day would come. When he’d have to say goodbye.

Not that he was ready, of course. But it was time.

Minho met Kibum’s eyes and held his gaze, burning the curves and lines of his face into his memory. “I’m sorry.” Kibum’s bottom lip quivered until he clenched his jaw, turning his face away from Minho. It took a moment for Minho to summon the courage to stand, to walk past Kibum on his way to the door. “If I could make one last request,” he said, his voice quiet in the strained silence stretching between them.

When Kibum didn’t answer, Minho looked back and found that he hadn’t turned his head to watch him go. But he was listening.

“Please, don’t hate me.”

As he opened the door, Kibum’s head twitched toward the noise and Minho froze, waiting. “That’s the thing. I could never hate you.” And, with that, Minho closed the door behind him.

Minho rubbed his eyes, driving the reverie away.

It’s not like he could do anything about it. He couldn’t go see Kibum, which meant he couldn’t apologize and try to make amends. It would be pointless.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dug it out, the ring box falling out with it. As Minho sat up, he took up the ring box and opened it. He stared at the gems, and they seemed to stare back, teasing him, taunting him. Minho snapped the ring box closed and carried it with him to his closet, setting it down among his glasses..

Maybe, his traitorous mind thought, and he pushed it away as he stood in front of his suits. What if, it continued as Minho pulled out the Givenchy suit. He had yet to wear it, to work or otherwise. It wasn’t long before he had stripped out of his travel-worn suit and slipped into the designer suit. Why he put it on, he wasn’t sure.

“You’re being selfish,” he said to his reflection, as he adjusted his tie pin. Was it worth throwing their safety away? Just for a moment of weakness? He dragged his hand across the nape of his neck, sighing heavily, as he stared at the ring box. It didn’t matter that he felt like he was deteriorating on the inside. It didn’t matter that his heart ached every second they had been apart.

It didn’t matter what he wanted. Or needed.

Minho grabbed the ring box, taking it back into the living room and sinking into the sofa. He had to be strong…for both of them. As he flipped the box over in his hand, his mind wandered to the text message Kibum had sent him.

I think you’re a part of me and you always will be.

No matter how much he tried to be strong, he was always so weak, when it came to Kibum. His fist tightened around the ring box, and he shot up from the couch, running for the elevator.

“Where to?” the taxi driver asked, suppressing a yawn as Minho buckled up.

Home.

Minho rattled off Kibum’s address without a thought, and he leaned back in his seat as the car pulled forward. He stared out the window, watching the city lights pass him by as he took deep, calming breaths.

For better or for worse, he had to be selfish this one last time.

Chapter 3: Unchained

“Can I come in?”

It was only when the door was closed behind him that Kibum remembered the state of his house. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the back of Minho’s head and waiting for his reaction to the remnants of the party.

“This was for Taemin, right?” Kibum blinked in surprise. “Jinki invited me to come a couple of weeks ago.” That fucker…Jinki didn’t mention anything about the extended invitation. “I was scheduled to be in New York…” Minho’s voice trailed off as he sighed.

“Why are you here, Minho?” He turned around, then, meeting Kibum’s inquisitive gaze. There was warmth there, still, in those tired eyes. Warmth and hope and a silent plea for understanding. Kibum looked down at the spread of confetti on the floor, then brushed past Minho as he followed the path through it to the couch. He sat in his spot, looking up at Minho expectantly. “Well?”

“I didn’t think I’d get this far…Not quite sure where to begin, to be honest.”

“How about sitting down.” He was more curious than anything else, now. Had he dressed up in that suit specifically to see him? Or was that just a random choice for his day at work? Kibum followed Minho’s progress around the room, and he grabbed the remote as Minho sat on the opposite end of the couch to turn the volume down several clicks.

Minho brushed more of the confetti off and onto the floor as he made himself comfortable, pointedly avoiding Kibum’s gaze. He picked one of the pieces up, twirling it around his finger as he looked up. “You could never irritate me.” Kibum’s brow furrowed in confusion. They irritated each other frequently in the many years they had known each other, especially when they were a couple. “Thoughts of you – of us – could never irritate me.”

Oh god…the text message. Was that why he decided to come? Kibum started to apologize for sending that, but Minho continued.

“Those were the happiest moments of my life. The ones with you.”

“Which ones?” Kibum found himself asking.

“All of them.” He gulped as Minho looked down at his hands again. “I missed you so much, ba – Bummie.”

If he could physically reach into his chest and stop his heart from swelling, he would. He needed to be strong, not only for his own sake but also for Minho’s as well. For a moment, his gaze drifted away. “Then why did you leave?” His eyes snapped back to meet Minho’s when he looked up. “Why did you wait so long to see me again, if you missed me so much?”

“I had to.”

“Had to?” Kibum smirked when Minho nodded. “Ultimatums aren’t that serious. You didn’t have to stay away.” Hurt flashed in Minho’s eyes, and Kibum almost broke his stony demeanor and apologized. He knew…he knew he was being unfair. He had been the one to make him choose. The one to make him leave.

“You don’t understand.”

“Is that why you’re here, then? To explain?”

Minho started tearing the confetti in his hands into little shreds, his voice low and quiet as he told Kibum about a conversation he had with his father. The threat of blackmail, of their relationship – and Kibum’s sexuality in particular– being exposed. How he decided to drive Kibum away, to make him want to let go of what they could have been, because he couldn’t.

“I’m weak, when it comes to you,” Minho said after a stretch of silence. “I know I was being selfish, and for that, I deeply apologize, but I knew…when it came down to it, that I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to you.”

Kibum swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Why tell me all this now?”

“When I saw you in the subway,” Minho chuckled, shaking his head. “After knowing that you missed me too, I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I saw you. One last time.” Last time…no… “I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you,” he said, standing and bowing to Kibum as he started for the door. “I won’t disturb you again.”

“It’s late.” Minho stopped in his tracks. Just let him go. He’s trying to move on with his life. Don’t ask him to – “Stay. You can always take a taxi or whatever home in the morning.”

Minho turned, hope twinkling in his eyes. “Where will I sleep?” Kibum patted the couch. “What about – “

“I still have some of your old t-shirts…and the blankets are where they always have been.” Minho nodded as Kibum stood, and started for their – no, his room. He grabbed his pajamas, as well as Minho’s t-shirt he wore most often to sleep in, and went back out to the main room. “Here.” Kibum tossed the shirt in Minho’s general direction, glancing over to find him cleaning off the entire couch before he laid the fleece throw down. “Goodnight, Min.”

“Goodnight.”

He’d be a fool to miss the longing in Minho’s voice.

Distracted now, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, completely forgoing his face washing routine. He flicked off the bathroom light and walked down the hall to see that the light and the television were turned off. Kibum stared into the darkness for a moment, before he turned and went into his bedroom.

“You’d think after that couch, this bed would be much more comfortable,” he murmured to himself, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He tossed and turned, curling up around his pillow and then lying bone-straight on his side, then his back, then his other side…then face down.

Kibum rolled over, lying on his back to watch the shadows shift on the ceiling with passing cars. How was Minho faring out there? He could always sleep anywhere, no matter what, so he was probably fine…but…no… He couldn’t bring Minho in here; he couldn’t cross that line. Not yet! Or ever!

His body, however, seemed to have a different idea. Kibum slipped out of bed, tiptoeing to the entrance of the hallway overlooking the living room. “Minho.”

“Yeah?” he whispered after a second of hesitation.

“Do you want to come to bed?”

In the darkness, he saw Minho’s silhouette peeking out over the back of the couch. “Are you sure?”

“If you don’t want to, then…whatever.” He turned and headed back to bed, his heart sinking as he slipped back under the covers. Closing his eyes, he turned over on his side, hoping to force himself to go to sleep.

The bed dipped and rocked as Minho crawled in, being careful not to disturb Kibum, who had started to smile. It only took a few minutes for Minho’s breathing to steady and for the first of his snores to come. Kibum’s eyes stung with tears that he blinked away as he rolled over to face Minho. The city lights from the far window gilded his silhouette, his shadow stretching out toward Kibum.

Minho snored again, and Kibum pursed his lips to stop a chuckle. He didn’t think he would miss that, and yet… Eventually, his eyes drooped, and he nodded off into a restful sleep.

As dawn broke, he stirred, feeling overly warm. Kibum barely opened his eyes, inhaling the fresh laundry scent right in front of his nose. There was just white, and as he looked up, the beautiful tan of Minho’s skin. He was in Minho’s arms, and him in Kibum’s. They were holding each other close, as though even in sleep, they were afraid of letting each other go again. Sighing, Kibum snuggled closer still and closed his eyes, drifting off again.

* * * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Minho woke, and the bed was empty.

Wait…bed?

He opened his sleepy eyes, taking in the familiar room. The random collection of art hanging on the walls, the same covers on the bed, several of the drawers in the dresser across the room always slightly open, and the light on in the walk-in closet. Minho took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking over at the rumpled sheets beside him. Cool now, it seemed. He pulled his hand back, his eyes widening as Kibum walked into the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Is this a dream..?” Kibum started at the sound of Minho’s voice, his hand instantly going to his towel to make sure it didn’t fall open.

“You’re awake.”

Minho could barely nod as Kibum moved further into the room. He could only stare at Kibum, drinking in the sight of him. This felt too real to be a dream. Minho blinked as Kibum swung the door closed – though not shut – after he stepped into the closet. When he reappeared, he was dressed in dark wash skinny jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. His eyes instantly met Minho’s, his expression softening slightly.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked as he sat on the foot of the bed.

“Better than I have in a long…long time.”

Kibum laced his fingers, folding his hands together in his lap as Minho sat up, mirroring the motion. “So…” Minho raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “I was thinking…I should come out to my boss.” He blinked, taken aback. “That way, at least your dad has nothing against me.”

“Will…will you be alright?” he whispered. Unfortunately, he remembered all too well what happened when Kibum came out to his parents. He had been sitting in the other room while they argued with Kibum, trying to make him see how wrong his life was. His choices. He remembered the angry tears in Kibum’s eyes as he stormed out of the room, he remembered the vice-like grip on his hand and he dragged Minho out of the house and to their car.

That had been years ago, and he still had yet to reconcile with his mother. His father, since their divorce, luckily had come around.

“It’s just a job. If I get fired…” he shrugged, meeting Minho’s eyes for a second before he dropped his gaze to his hands.

“But you love that job, right?” Kibum nodded. “Is it worth the risk?”

Kibum looked up, searching Minho’s concerned expression until his attention shifted to Minho’s lips and then to his eyes. “So, I was an idiot, and I didn’t go grocery shopping last week…or the week before…so I don’t have any coffee for you.”

“That’s okay…” He smirked, and before he could think better of it, he said, “Just seeing you gives me more than enough of a boost.” Kibum bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep from smiling too wide. “Too soon?”

“Maybe a little…but I can’t say I mind.”

He smiled then, softly, but enough to make the dimple appear on his cheek. Minho’s shoulders drooped as he sighed. Kibum’s hands were still folded together, his thumbs tapping a rhythm together. Minho clenched his own fists in the sheets, longing to reach out and brush his fingers through Kibum’s hair, that was still slightly damp from his shower. Or, to hold him close in his arms. To feel his warmth, each intake of his breath. Anything to let him know that this was real.

“Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

Kibum’s smile grew. “Do you often dream of me?”

“If I dream, you’re always there.”

He stared at him, his gaze growing tender until he blinked and averted his eyes. “Anyways, I should get going. I’m already almost late for work as it is.”

“Kibum.” Minho shot out of bed as he stood and turned for the door. “Do you want me to come with you?”

A heavy sigh. “Sure.”

Minho rushed to get ready, pulling on his slightly rumpled suit and brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush before he met Kibum at the door. The journey to SM Entertainment was somber. Quiet. Neither of them seemed to mind that.

Ordinarily, a packed subway would have been irritating, but in this case, the physical closeness to Kibum was a soothing balm on his aching heart. A tingle danced along his skin every time he reached out to steady him, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than Minho could have ever hoped for.

They stayed an arm’s length apart as they ventured into the cafe, Kibum instructing Minho to stay there until he came to find him. And…then he left. Minho watched him disappear down a long hallway, long to run after him, to hold him close and give him whatever strength he could.

The minutes stretched on, and eventually, he had to distract himself so he didn’t just fidget until Kibum reappeared. He bought himself a coffee, taking tiny sips of it as he waited.

And waited.

Twenty minutes had passed before Kibum walked into the cafe, meeting Minho’s inquisitive gaze immediately. A subtle nod and Minho was on his feet, following Kibum back down the hallway. Neither spoke as Kibum led them toward the dance studios.

His hands were trembling as he pulled out his keys, and it made it hard for him to unlock the door. Minho reached out, one hand instinctively slipping around Kibum’s waist and the other taking the keys to open the studio. Once inside, he led Kibum over to the closest chair before he hurried back to close and lock the door.

When he made his way back to Kibum, he knelt before him, taking his hand in his as Kibum took deep calming breaths. “I’m okay,” he said after several minutes. “It went better than I was expecting.”

“What happened?”

“I told him the truth.”

“Sooman?”

Kibum nodded. “He said as long as I didn’t let it affect my work and I didn’t try to turn the trainees – “ Minho grimaced. “ – yeah…he said he didn’t care.” Sighing, Minho leaned forward, pressing his forehead against their joined hands. After a minute, Kibum’s other hand patted Minho’s head, his fingers carding through Minho’s hair. “Now, there’s at least one thing that your dad doesn’t control.”

Minho slowly opened his eyes and stared at Kibum’s knee just beyond his nose. God, he really was an idiot…of course that’s why Kibum did this. They would never be able to return to how they were – maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday – if Kibum didn’t come out first. His father would tear them apart in whatever way he could. Whether by blackmail, which Kibum just annulled, or other means – he would not want to lose his control over Minho.

If Kibum could be brave – marching into uncharted territory unsure of the outcome, for them, for their possible future – then so could he.

“When’s your next class?”

Kibum’s hand stilled in Minho’s hair, dropping to his lap when Minho looked up. “Soon. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to kick you out – “

Minho released Kibum’s hand. “It’s okay. Can…can I see you later?” Smiling, Kibum nodded, and Minho stood and started for the door. “Do you still get off at six?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay.” Minho turned the handle looking back at Kibum for a moment. “I’ll see you soon.”

It wasn’t long until the skyscraper that housed Choi Conglomerate came into view. He stepped inside, breezing through the rotating doorway and walking right past the front desk. The elevator ride up to his office was a quiet one as if none of the employees knew what to say with him present. He raised his chin as the elevator reached his floor, and he walked out, passing Seohyun, his secretary on his way to his office.

“Sir?” she said, following him inside his office. “Your father has been trying to contact you all day.” Ah, that’s what he forgot to grab when he left his condo – his cellphone.

“I’m sorry if it caused you stress.”

“Don’t worry about me, sir. Are you alright? You’ve never been this late before.”

Minho smiled to himself, and Seohyun sat in one of the chairs across from him. “I’m doing better than I have been in a while.”

“That’s a relief to hear.”

Minho met her eyes, and she smiled at him. “Do you know what my father’s schedule is like today?”

She pulled out her cellphone, probably bringing up her messages between herself and Jieun, his father’s secretary. “He’s currently in a meeting, but he wanted to see you whenever you got in. Apparently, he’s not…very happy.”

“Wow, what a huge surprise.” Seohyun chuckled, then covered her mouth when Minho looked up. “Why don’t you go ahead and take the day off?”

“Really?” Minho nodded. “Are you sure?” Laughing, he nodded again. “Thank you, sir.”

“Do something fun! And, Seohyun?” She stopped, looking back at him from the doorway. “Thank you for everything.” She gave him a shy smile before she closed the door behind herself. Once she was gone, Minho called his father’s office, and Jieun answered. “This is Minho.”

“Ah, Mr. Choi. Your father wishes to see you.”

“When is he out of his meeting?”

“He just got back.”

“I’ll be right there. Thank you, Jieun.” He hung up the phone and by the time he made it out the door, Seohyun was nowhere to be found.

As he walked to his father’s office, he thought about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, but his mind was coming up blank. Even as he stepped inside his father’s office, he didn’t know how to begin. He walked up to the desk, standing between the armchairs as his father glared at him behind the desk. He was talking on the phone with someone, but he soon cut them off and hung up.

“Where were you? You’re never late.”

“I overslept.” For once in seven fucking months, he had actually slept a normal amount of time. His father started to speak, but Minho spoke over him. “I quit.” Silence rang in Minho’s ears as his father stared at him. “I’m tired and I hate this job. I just want out. Give it to Minseok, for all I care. I know you’d rather that, anyway.”

“Why quit now?”

“I can’t live like this anymore. I’m miserable, and you know it. You exploit it, even.”

“If this is about that…Kibum – “

“Would you do the same for Mom?” His father’s jaw clenched. “If there were obstacles in your way, keeping the two of you apart, would you fight for her?” Minho sighed when his dad grimaced. “I’m tired. I miss him and I’m tired of not being with him. So, I quit.”

As he turned to leave, his father said, “If you walk out that door, I never want to see you again.” Minho picked up his pace, not even bothering to turn around to look at his father one last time.

He felt lightheaded and slightly dizzy as he made his way back downstairs and onto the street. What would he do now? Where would he go? It was only a matter of hours before he would be locked out of his condo, so he made his way there, first, grabbing the few personal possessions that he couldn’t do without. He turned in his key at the front desk, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long while.

This must be what freedom felt like.

Minho meandered through Seoul on his way back to SM Entertainment, scouring the shop windows for We’re Hiring! signs. He spotted a few, making mental notes of them all, and soon he was sitting in the cafe with a fresh iced coffee, watching the clock as he waited for Kibum.

Blessedly, it didn’t take too long for him to show, his smile growing as he spotted Minho. “Do…do you want to go grocery shopping with me?”

“Of course,” Minho said immediately.

It was just like old times – why wouldn’t it be? Minho followed Kibum around the store, a basket in hand, and pulled things that he pointed at off the shelf. Kibum vented about the dumbass trainees as they shopped, and Minho listened eagerly, adding his own comments when he could and smiling when they made Kibum laugh. They walked home, their arms full of groceries. As Kibum put them away and started dinner, Minho started to clean up the remnants of Taemin’s party. He made good progress before dinner was ready, but after eating and helping Kibum with the dishes, he didn’t want to do much else but sit.

“So, you quit.” Minho nodded, tapping his thumb on the handle of his mug, the tea inside steaming. “What will you do?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know if I should look for a job or a place to live first…”

“Job.” Minho slowly met Kibum’s eyes, his eyebrows raising in question. “You can stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Min. You should know that by now.”

He nodded.

Once he was finished showering, Kibum turned off the TV and met him by the bedroom door. “You can sleep in here, it’s okay,” he said as Minho tried to go past him and into the living room.

“I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“I know.” He leaned against the door jam as Kibum looked down at the carpet between them. “I know it’s probably asking too much. I don’t know about you, but…but I’m not ready for anything more right now.” As much as Minho longed to return to the way they were before, he knew that wouldn’t be wise. Patience and trust would be key to navigating themselves back into a relationship like the one they had had. “Even…even so, I missed you.” He met Minho’s eyes then. “I missed you so much, and I don’t want to be…to be apart from you again. It’s up to you,” he said, glancing into the bedroom. “If you want to sleep here, or not. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at all.”

Kibum swallowed thickly before he stepped inside the bedroom. He had already crawled into bed by the time Minho flicked off the light and followed him inside.

- - - - -

“So, let me get this straight…” Kibum didn’t look up from his phone and the stream of memes Minho was sending him, but he hummed in question when Jonghyun paused. “You’re not dating, but you’re living together again. Sleeping in the same bed – “

“Just sleeping.”

“And cuddling, I assume.” Kibum blushed, scrolling down when Minho sent him another meme. “Basically spending every waking moment you can together for a month…”

“Yeah? And?”

“How…no, why not just date again? Have you guys even kissed yet?” Kibum shook his head, rolling his eyes when Jonghyun scoffed. “If I hadn’t seen Taemin in seven months…”

“The world would end as we know it, I know.”

Min~

12:04 // okay, I have to go back to work now~

12:04 // bye~

Kibum pocketed his phone, rejoining Jonghyun’s rant on how everything good in this world would cease to exist if he and Taemin didn’t see each other every day. “Honestly, you should be grateful to us – “

“Oh, I am,” Kibum said sarcastically as he picked up his chopsticks to resume eating his lunch. “We’re just…taking things slow, that’s all.”

“I feel like slow is an understatement.”

“When you’ve known each other as long as we have, you learn to be patient.”

He stirred his noodles, coating them with sauce before he took a bite. He and Minho had known each other since they were kids in middle school, but they didn’t start dating until their second year of college. Had…had they really been dating for eight years? He hadn’t really thought about it since they split.

No wonder they had slipped right back into their old routine so easily.

It only took about a week for Minho to find a new job, the sales manager at Times Square Mall in downtown Seoul. While it was fast-paced enough to keep Minho occupied and engaged, it was nowhere near the levels of stress and dedication he had to endure at his dad’s company.

About a month had passed since Minho quit his job and their lives intertwined again. Was that enough time? Was he taking too long to make up his mind? They had a solid relationship before the split, trust built and maintained easily. But, even now, he hesitated. It was hard, deciding to make the leap of faith, to reach out and begin things again.

He hated his own hesitation. He hated how each morning when he woke, he snuggled closer to Minho, leeching the warmth and comfort he was unknowingly giving. He hated how he didn’t linger, didn’t wait for Minho to stir and realize he was holding Kibum like his life depended on it. He hated how he doted on Minho, bringing him coffee just the way he liked it as soon as he was waking up, and he hated the sweet, sleepy smile Minho would give him every morning. He hated how easily domestic they were, as though they had never been apart.

He hated that he loved every second of it.

Why couldn’t he cross that line?

Ah, he was terrified. Of what would happen, should they be forced to split again. Those months without Minho were the darkest he had ever faced, and he faced them alone. And now…now that he was back, even though the sun was shining on them again, the darkness lurked in his mind.

Jonghyun just didn’t understand…neither did Taemin nor Jinki. Sure, they were there for him in those months, but they couldn’t understand.

“Speaking of Taemin,” Kibum said, stirring his noodles again. “When does he get back from Japan?”

Jonghyun sighed heavily. “Not soon enough.”

By the time Kibum was home for the night, Minho had been home for a while, judging by the state of the kitchen. Kibum walked in, smirking as he flipped through the recipe book. “Need any help?” he asked, startling Minho, who turned around to look at him.

“No, I think I got it. Thanks, though.”

The fried rice was a bit too crunchy for Kibum’s taste, but he ate it all, thanking Minho for the food. As they cleaned up the kitchen together – Kibum insisted on helping, this time – his mind started to wander to his and Jonghyun’s earlier conversation.

“Min.”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

Minho’s hands stilled in the dishwater, and he glanced over at Kibum. “Of course I am.”

Nodding, Kibum set the pan to dry.

His birthday came and went, Minho planning a surprise party that Kibum was actually genuinely surprised by. After they all left, he even helped Kibum wash the cake and buttercream off his face and out of his hair. His hands lingered, on his cheek and when they cupped the back of his head. They were so close, just a little push and the line would have been crossed.

But, there would be no way to go back, if they did. So Kibum stayed still, his gaze trained on Minho’s lips, wishing he had the courage to leap.

The next morning, Kibum once again woke with the sun, relishing in the warmth of Minho’s embrace. He stared sleepily at the expanse of Minho’s skin just beyond his nose. As his eyes closed, he wrapped his arms around Minho’s waist and nuzzled into his neck. He pressed a chaste kiss where his neck met his shoulder, then another, and another until he reached Minho’s jaw.

Minho hummed contentedly, and Kibum sat back, still in his embrace, to see if he was awake yet. Not quite. He brushed Minho’s wavy hair off of his forehead, watching his face as the morning sun stretched across his skin, setting it aglow. He caressed his cheekbone with his thumb, smiling as even in his sleep, Minho leaned into the gentle touch.

He missed mornings like this, lazy and soft and filled with nothing but their love. This thumb stilled on Minho’s cheek. Love? Yes, love…as if he ever stopped loving Minho, even when they were apart. No matter what, he didn’t think that would ever change.

When Minho finally stirred and opened his eyes, Kibum hadn’t moved away. Minho’s eyes slowly widened when he realized how close they were, that Kibum was in his arms. “Good morning, sweetheart.” Minho’s lips parted, either in surprise or because he had something he wanted to say, but Kibum took it as an invitation and closed the distance between them.

The kiss started slow and lazy…almost tentative. But, as Minho became more awake, it grew hungrier, needier…desperate, even. Kibum smiled into it as Minho rolled them over so that he was on top of him, his fingers digging into his back as Kibum carded his fingers through Minho’s hair. He opened his eyes when they broke the kiss to breathe, Minho pressing their foreheads together.

“I missed you so much, baby.”

I missed you, too danced on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken. But instead, Kibum smirked. “Prove it.”

He was so thankful that it was a Sunday because they had so much to catch up on.

* * * * *

Minho brushed the snow out of his hair before he bent down to untie his boots. It had been a long day at the office, what with the Christmas rush starting. He glanced at his phone before he plopped down on the couch, flicking through the channels to find that nothing good was on. He left it on Please Take Care of My Refrigerator but turned the volume down before he tossed the remote across the couch.

He sighed, picking himself up and going to the bedroom to change into something comfier than a suit. Kibum would be home from work soon, and he knew when the other three would be over for their weekly – when their schedules aligned – game night. He changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, throwing his work socks into a hamper and putting a pair of polka dotted ones on instead. When his phone vibrated, he looked to see that it was just a text from Kibum, letting him know that he was on his way home.

Minho grabbed his charging cord, setting his phone on his nightstand before he opened the drawer. There, with the take-out menus, condoms, and the bottle of lube, was the ring box he had bought so long ago. Almost a year, now that he thought about it. He pulled it out before he closed the drawer, popping the box open.

It was too soon, he knew, to ask Kibum to marry him. Not that they could, anyway, but…someday…someday they’d get there. He’d just have to be patient.

Luckily, that was something he had a lot of practice in.

Smirking to himself, he set the ring back in the drawer and went back out into the kitchen to get the snacks and table set up for the arrival of the others.

Minho’s attention flew to the door when it opened to reveal Kibum, and he smiled as he stomped in, grumbling about the snow. When Kibum looked up from untying his boots, Minho was there, waiting for him to stand so he could hug him. Kibum sniffed a laugh as Minho pulled him out of the entryway and away from the melting snow, hugging him all the while. “Did somebody miss me?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Hmm. Cute.” Kibum kissed his cheek before he took himself out of Minho’s arms. “What games did you pull out?”

“Monopoly…Clue…”

“Let’s start with Clue. We’ll still want to be friends with the others afterward. Plus, we can cheat…”

“You mean observe closely and win,” Minho said, smiling as he put that box on top of the others.

“Yes, of course.” Kibum returned to his side, slipping his arms around Minho’s waist. He held him close, savoring the moments before the other three would arrive and they’d have to play host for the night. Not that he minded, of course. It was just, since they were dating again, he had decided to savor every moment he could with Kibum.

He pressed a kiss to Kibum’s temple, then another when Kibum’s arms tightened around him. “I love you.”

Smiling, Kibum looked up at him. “I love you, too,” he said, glancing down at Minho’s lips before he leaned in. Just as they were about to kiss, the doorbell rang at the same time as someone knocked on the door. Minho hesitated. “They can wait.” Minho smiled into the kiss, the incessant knocking disappearing as he melted into it.

For one blessed moment, the world was just he and Kibum, and nothing else mattered.

Epilogue: Colorful

“When will you be back?”

“Two hours at the latest.”

Kibum smirked,  his gaze slowly taking Minho in as he shrugged on his jacket. He could feel the twinkle in his eyes when Minho met his gaze. “Hurry back,” he said, smiling sweetly from his cocoon of warmth in bed as Minho bit his lip with a sigh. As he left the room, Kibum inclined his head, listening. He was putting on his shoes…the grabbing his keys…unlocking the door…

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

The door slammed shut and locked, and Kibum jumped out of bed. Two hours was more than enough time to find his birthday present. Minho said he hadn’t gotten his present yet, but Kibum didn’t believe him.

He scoured the closet, opening the drawers, looking behind clothes, pulling out their luggage and checking inside. Nothing. Kibum hummed after he had put everything back in its place, his eyes scanning the room before he dropped to check under the bed. It was…surprisingly empty. Hall closet, empty. Pantry, empty. Linen closet, empty. Coat closet by the door? Fucking empty.

“What the fuck, Choi.”

There was no way he got better at hiding presents in the time they spent apart; he had always been able to find them, even when they were kids. Kibum walked out of the closet after going through it again, sitting down on Minho’s side of the bed to catch his breath. Where could it be? He glanced at the nightstand, then looked again. It could be something small. His eyebrows raised expectantly, Kibum scooted over, slowly opening the drawer.

Was that…He pulled out the small black box, his breath catching as he popped it open.

Minho was going to propose.

The silver ring was cool against his skin as he slid it on his ring finger. Of course, it fit perfectly, why wouldn’t it? He held his hand out, inspecting the sparkle of the diamonds in the natural light of the room. Was it too soon? They had only been back together for a year – well, almost. The day after his birthday would mark a full year.

No, now that he thought about it, the timing was perfect…barring the fact that they legally couldn’t get married yet. The trust between them had been established again, almost stronger than it was before their split if that was even possible.

Smiling, Kibum slipped the ring off of his finger and put it back in the box, which he then returned to the drawer as if he had never seen it. Thoroughly satisfied, Kibum slipped back into bed, making himself comfortable before Minho made it back from his meeting.

When his birthday arrived, Kibum’s anticipation was high. When would he ask? Over breakfast?…no, but he did get breakfast in bed. Before the other three arrived?…no, but they were making out until the doorbell rang, with the promise of picking it up later. After the candles on his cake were blown out?…no, but Minho did smear frosting across his lips before he started cutting a slice off for him.

Maybe during the actual presents-opening…Kibum decided that must be the case when Minho hurried into their room when Taemin presented the gift from him and Jonghyun.

“What..?” Dog collars? One was a teal and the other a red. He squinted at them, then back up at Taemin and Jonghyun. “I don’t know what you guys are into…but…”

Jonghyun snorted. “No, oh my god.”

“They’d be too small, anyway.”

Minho reappeared in the living room, holding a much bigger box than the ring box. Much bigger. And, it barked. Twice.

Momentarily, the ring was forgotten as Minho came around and sat next to him on the couch. “Are you serious?” Kibum asked, his voice several pitches higher than normal as a tiny red poodle poke its head out of the top of the box, followed by an adorable black one. He took them both out, speechless as they started wriggling in their excitement.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Minho said, kissing his cheek before he took the black one out of his arms, so he could focus on the other. For the moment, the ring was forgotten, as they now had Comme Des and Garçons to worry about and take care of.

Their anniversary came and went without a proposal, as did Chuseok…and Halloween…when Christmas rolled around, Kibum was sure it would happen.

It didn’t.

There was no change in Minho’s behavior, and there hadn’t been since Kibum discovered the ring. He acted as though the ring just…didn’t exist.

Kibum kept glancing at his phone, checking the time as the seconds ticked by. Surely, he’d propose as the clock struck midnight…Minho loved to do romantic bullshit like that, because he knew Kibum would eat it up. But, there were two minutes to go and Minho was making no move. Whatsoever. He tapped Kibum’s foot and Kibum tucked the foot Minho had been massaging under his thigh and set the other on Minho’s lap so he could start on that one.

Maybe he already had the ring in his pocket? He watched him carefully, sighing when Minho’s eyebrows shot up with a smile. “Happy new year!” As he looked over at Kibum, his smile drooped. “Did I do something wrong?”

Huffing, Kibum got up and went into their room, being careful not to disturb the sleeping puppies as he grabbed the box from Minho’s drawer. He went back to the couch, holding the ring box up. Minho’s eyes widened as he sat down.

“Did you buy this just because you liked how it looks in your drawer?”

“What?” Minho scoffed. “No.” Kibum sighed, and Minho’s expression softened. “When did you find it?”

“The day before my birthday.”

“Ah…”

“Were you ever planning on proposing, or..?”

“I mean,” his eyes dropped to the box in Kibum’s hands before he met his eyes again. “I bought that a while ago, so it’s been at the back of my mind for…”

“When?”

“Hm?”

“When did you buy it?”

“Sometime in 2017, I don’t remember exactly.” Kibum deflated a little, and he looked at the ring box. So, before the split. And he kept it that whole time. “I didn’t think you’d want to be engaged until we could legally get married. That’s why I haven’t proposed yet.” Kibum fixed him with a droll glare that made Minho laugh as he leaned forward, taking the box out of Kibum’s hands. “I see now that I was wrong.”

He popped the box open, and Kibum instinctively looked down at the ring before he met Minho’s eye again. “Kibum…”

“You don’t have to if you’re not ready, sweetheart, I’m so – “

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes smiling. “Will you live forever with me?”

Tears stung Kibum’s eyes and he sniffed, blinking them away. “I don’t know, this is so unexpected.” Minho’s face scrunched up as he laughed, leaning into the couch, and Kibum couldn’t help but grin. “Of course, I will.”

Minho scooted forward, slipping the ring on Kibum’s finger. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he said, leaning forward to kiss him.

Kibum laid back, pulling Minho with him as they relaxed into the couch, their kiss turning lazy as Kibum threaded his fingers thought Minho’s hair, his thumb and forefinger lightly rubbing Minho’s earlobe. “You know,” he said, turning his head with a sigh as Minho started to kiss him along his jaw. “You could make it up to me.”

Minho chuckled before he pressed a kiss just below his ear. “I’ll do my best,” he whispered, his low voice sending a shiver down Kibum’s spine.

- - - - -

It started off as a joke.

They were in the supermarket, shopping for groceries, when Kibum said, “You know, this would be a good place to get married.” Minho had snorted at the time, which made Kibum grin. “Because of the aisles.”

It was a shame they were in public, because Minho would have kissed him for making that stupid joke. Instead, he just laughed and grabbed their favorite wine from off the shelf. It became a running joke, then, whenever they went out to find the perfect place to get married.

Not that they could, or really even would, but it was a nice thought.

Within the week that followed their engagement, Kibum bought a ring for Minho, making it officially official, as he liked to say. It matched Kibum’s ring, and he couldn’t help but smile every time he looked at it. Like he was doing now.

“Thinking about your husband?” Jonghyun asked as he slid back into his seat across from Minho, passing him his coffee.

“We’re not married, Jjong.”

“So?” Minho glanced up at him before he grabbed his coffee. “Fuck the government, honestly.” Minho almost spat his coffee out. “Who cares if you can’t be legally married? You guys are more married than my parents are.”

“Yeah, because they’re divorced.”

“Taemin’s parents, then.” Minho nodded, conceding. “You could always have a ceremony, and then when you legally can do it…”

“Do you think he would go for that?” Jonghyun leveled him with a glare. “Okay, I know, stupid question…I just don't…” Jonghyun’s eyebrows raised, and Minho sighed. “I don’t want to fuck up again. Or disappoint him. I've…” he twisted the cup around on the table, avoiding Jonghyun’s eyes. “I’ve hurt him so much already – “

“Hey, look at me.” Jonghyun waited until he did. “If it had been up to you, you never would have left him, right?” Minho shook his head. “And you know he doesn’t hold it against you at all?” He nodded. “I totally get why you’re anxious about this, but I’ve never met anyone who rivals your love for each other.”

Minho cleared his throat as he gave Jonghyun a small smile. “Not including you and Taemin, I assume.”

Jonghyun waved his hand between them dismissively. “That goes without saying.”

“Of course.” Minho let out a deep breath before he took a long drink of his coffee. “What if…” Jonghyun perked up, an eyebrow raising in question. “…we surprised him?”

He held up his hand before Minho could say another word. “Leave it to me. I know the perfect place.”

“Oh?”

“What about this Tuesday?” Minho’s brow furrowed for a second before he realized what day it would be. Their first anniversary – May 25th. That would only give them four days to prepare.

“Can you do it by then?”

Jonghyun already had his phone out, checking his and Taemin’s schedule, probably. “If you can get Kibum to Yeouido Park by like…seven – “

“At night, I hope.”

“Twilight is the most romantic time of day. Anyway, yeah, seven…we’ll make sure you find us.”

Minho laughed. “You’re not even gonna let me in on it?”

Jonghyun gave him a smug smile as he sipped his coffee. “Absolutely not.”

“I assume you’ll want the same treatment when you finally propose to Taemin.”

“Obviously.”

The days until their surprise wedding dragged by, and Minho could barely contain his excitement. He was almost constantly distracted, which did not go unnoticed by his coworkers or Kibum himself, though his fiancé didn’t comment on it. No, he just gave him suspicious looks whenever Minho seemed too cheery or on edge.

On the day of, Jinki called him when he was out taking the kids – Comme Des and Garcons – for a run. Both he and Kibum had taken the day off to celebrate their anniversary, but he had left Kibum tucked in bed with a book and a kiss goodbye before he decided to go exercise for a little while. Anything to get rid of his pent-up energy.

“Seven, right? That’s when you’ll be there?”

“Like, at the park at seven? Or at the location by seven?”

“Uh…” he voice trailed off for a second. Probably checking his texts. “The location.”

“So…”

“Just take the first right at the fifth entrance and you’ll be able to find us. Taemin is setting up markers for you to follow.”

Minho stopped walking, tugging lightly on the leashes to get the puppies to stop walking for a minute. “I can’t believe you guys are doing this for us.”

“Of course, man. Anything for you two.” Garcons barked at another dog as it passed, Comme Des joining in. Minho shushed them. “Dress nice!” Jinki said as he hung up the phone. Minho pocketed his and finished his run.

“Honey, I’m home!” he called out as he stepped inside, smiling when he heard Kibum snort in the other room. He unclipped the puppies leashes and looked up to find Kibum emerging. “Hey, so I had a thought…”

“Wow, I’m so proud of you.”

“Shut up. What if I told you that I made a reservation at Ole tonight?” Kibum’s eye brightened, and Minho’s smile grew. “It’s for eight, but I was thinking we could walk around the park a little bit before that.”

“That sounds like a ploy to get me to exercise.” Minho laughed, hanging the leashes up on the hook in the coat closet. “I’ll do it, but I’m still on to you.”

“Are you, now…” Kibum inspected him, a small smile gracing his features before he nodded once. It’s a good thing Minho would never cheat because Kibum would catch him within minutes.

When it came time to leave, Minho stopped Kibum at the door, straightening the knot of his tie and kissing his cheek before they walked outside. His palms were sweaty, and he tried to resist the urge to wipe them off on the knees of his Givenchy suit. He knew…he knew he was anxious for no reason, but that didn’t stop him. Kibum seemed to sense his mood since he frequently glanced over to check on him as he drove.

They reached the park with five minutes to spare. Kibum linked his arm through Minho’s and set the pace, walking leisurely down the path through the forest. His eyes were on the sky, and he made a comment about how beautiful the sunset was going to be. As much as Minho wanted to look up and admire it for himself, he couldn’t. Instead, he scanned the bushes and trees and the tiny fences lining the path for any sort of marker that Taemin would have left.

He almost stopped walking when he saw it – the teal ribbon tied around the branch of a tree. There was another one, just down the path, so Minho guided Kibum toward it and found another a few meters ahead of them.

Just ahead, strings of lights wrapped around the columns of the pavilion overlooking the pond flickered on. It captured both of their attention, Kibum leaning toward Minho to say, “That’s new.” As they drew near, a soft piano song started to play, that Minho soon recognized as Yiruma’s “It’s Your Day.” Minho bit back a smile, glancing over to see if Kibum realized that the shadowy figures in the pavilion were their friends.

When he did, he stopped in his tracks, his grip on Minho’s arm tightening. “What…”

“Come on, come on, hurry,” Jinki said, glancing both ways down the path. They picked up the pace, Taemin passing his phone to Jonghyun for a second – was he filming this? – so he could stick bunches of wildflowers in their lapels.

“Stand over here,” Jonghyun said, guiding Minho and Kibum under the pavilion, away from the path. Jinki stood at the far end, keeping watch to make sure they weren’t disturbed, and Taemin took his phone back from Jonghyun, staying at his boyfriend’s side so he could film.

“We’re gathered here tonight – “ Jonghyun started to say.

Kibum laughed silently, latching onto Minho’s shoulder for support. “Is this what you were planning?” Minho just smiled and reached out to straighten Kibum’s flowers.

“ – and it may not be official, but when has that ever fucking stopped us before.”

“Jjong, honestly,” Jinki murmured behind them, and Taemin started to laugh.”

“Choi Minho.” Jonghyun looked up from the script on his phone at him. “You are becoming the husband of Kim Kibum. Do you promise to love Kibum, to respect him, take care of him, in joyful and in hard times, in healthy times and in sick times, every day, forever?”

Minho swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes, I promise.”

The piano music stopped playing, and Jinki quickly fished his phone out of his pocket, starting it again.

“Kim Kibum.” Minho looked over at him, smiling as he brushed away Kibum’s tears with his thumb. Kibum took his hand then, squeezing it tightly. “You are becoming the husband of Choi Minho. Do you promise to love Minho, to respect him, take care of him, in joyful and in hard times, in healthy and in sick times, every day, forever?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Perfect.” Kibum let out a watery chuckle, and Minho stepped a little closer to him, his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. “Then, by the power vested in me by absolutely nobody, I pronounce you husband and husband.” He gestured between them, tears welling up in his own eyes. “You can kiss each other now.”

“I can’t believe you did this,” Kibum whispered as Minho pulled him into his arms, and he smiled as Kibum wrapped his arms around him, kissing him tenderly. He broke the kiss faster than Minho was expecting, though it could have been because of their small audience, but he didn’t move away. Instead, his arms tightened around him, rubbing Minho’s back.

Minho closed his eyes with a smile, leaning into the embrace. “I love you…so much,” he said, turning his head to kiss Kibum’s cheek. Kibum hummed contentedly, and Minho sighed. He didn’t think he would ever or could ever be this happy in his life.

And yet, he knew this was only the beginning of happier years to come.

[absoloutenonsense]

When you see this, post a snippet of your WIP.

Hades Harry and Persephone Louis are coming back to me. Welcome to my Underworld fic!

***

Harry peers over his book and tries not to make it obvious that he isn’t a student. 

Louis has just walked into the cafe and up to the counter, looking as gorgeous as ever. Fringe swept across his forehead, blue and black polo and some more relaxed jeans than Harry has seen in the past. He smiles at the girl behind the counter, and Harry lets the book slip a little through his fingers; he catches it just before it can topple over on the table. 

Harry adjusts his snapback and sinks a little lower in his seat. 

“Hi,” he hears from his right. He looks up at a pretty girl with auburn hair in low pigtails. She smiles at him and takes a sip of her iced coffee through the straw. “Could I sit here? All the other tables are taken and I was hoping to revise.”

Harry nods and smiles a little back at her, trying not to make it obvious when his eyes dart to Louis again. He’s handing over a fiver to pay for his drink, and drops his change in the tip jar. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the girl says, making no move to get books or a pen or even her phone out. 

He just nods and watches Louis laugh at something the barista tells him. His heart bursts and aches in the same moment. He’s desperate to make Louis laugh like that. 

“What’re you studying?”

“Insurance,” he says automatically. 

The girl furrows her brows. “I don’t think we have that as a course.”

Harry finally really looks at her. “What?”

“I said I don’t think that’s a course here. Did you mean business?”

And Harry doesn’t know. “Uh, I’m not really sure. I just got here.”

“Oh! You’re a transfer?”

“Yes,” he says, because that seems the right thing to say. 

“Where were you before?”

And it was the wrong thing to say. “Oh, you know. Here and there.”

“You don’t know where you were before this?”

“Uh…”

“Harold,” someone interrupts. And for a moment --a split second-- Harry is over the moon to have Louis’ eye on him. They’re just as blue as he remembers. But then he sees the hard edge to them, despite his forced smile. Harry can’t help but flicker his gaze down to his lips. 

“Louis,” Harry says. Well, says is generous, considering what comes out is barely more than a breath. 

The girl is looking back and forth between them. “Sorry, did I take your seat Louis?”

“No, love, wasn’t expecting to see Harold here today.”

“Is this your boyfriend?” she asks. 

Yes! Harry thinks. 

“No,” Louis says. “Harold here is free as a bird, aren’t you Harold?” But before Harry can speak up, Louis continues. “Wouldn’t mind him much, though, for you Kim. Seems like there’s a bit of chemistry here. I’ll leave you to it.” And he’s walking away. 

Harry just gapes after him before remembering he has two working legs. 

“Excuse me,” he says to the girl --Kim-- before turning around. 

“You forgot your book!” she calls after him. 

“Keep it!” he says over his shoulder, and then he’s nearly running to catch up to Louis. 

Louis isn’t running, but he might as well be at the speed he’s going. Harry can practically see steam coming out of his ears. When he catches up, Harry jogs for a moment before he can adequately pace himself to speed walk next to Louis. 

“Leave me alone, Harry.” 

“Louis--”

“Wow, ignoring what I ask for. What a shocker.”

“Louis please listen--”

“Wow, ignoring my blatant sarcasm in favor of pissing me off more. Who’d have thought.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me, I just wanted to check in,” Harry blurts out. And when Louis doesn’t immediately cut in again, he adds, “I’ve been worried about you.”

Louis stops so abruptly that Harry actually has gone too far and needs to turn around to face him. “Worried? Have you been worried? Well great. You’ve seen me. No need to be worried any longer.” And he’s off again, walking somehow even faster. How do mortals walk so fast?

Harry rushes to keep up, lagging behind Louis. He would prefer not to admit that it’s a struggle. “I get that I fucked up, I do. And I want to make it right.”

“It’s Spring, Harry, I don’t have to talk to you for another five months at least,” and he stops and turns again. Harry just about crashes into him. Louis has to put his hands up to Harry’s chest in order to keep them both from falling over. “How long have you been spying on me?”

Harry flushes. He can feel the warmth of Louis’ hands through his white band t-shirt, wants to pull him onto the grass and pin him so he has no choice but to be still and look at Harry. There are other reasons to pin Louis to the ground, but now isn’t the time to think about those. Part of Harry’s mind can’t help it. 

Louis pushes against his chest and asks, “How. Long.”

Harry mourns the loss of Louis’ fingertips on his body. But only briefly because Louis has fire in his eyes. “This is only the third time.”

“The third time.” Louis says it loud. Loud enough that a few people look their way as they walk past. He grabs him by the end of his shirt and pulls him in the direction of the nearest building. 

He turns around to spit out, “When.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand that Harry has no choice but to obey. 

“New Years Eve, when you were down the pub with your mates.”

“Where were you.” 

“Outside the pub, I just walked by the window.”

They get to a door. The smell of chlorine hits Harry in full force as it swings open and Louis pulls him inside. They’re in a little hallway with two doors on either side of them. Louis drops his hold on the edge of Harry’s t-shirt, but his fist-print remains through the wrinkled threads. 

“And,” Louis spits out. 

“And then in March. You were grocery shopping.”

Louis’ face screws up a bit as he presumably tries to pin-point the day. 

“Where were you.”

“Across the street, in the bakery.”

Louis shuts his eyes tightly and rubs his hands along his face a few times. “That’s not even--” he lets out a frustrated noise. “Why-- I don’t--” another noise. “What’s the point of that?”

Harry doesn’t hide his confusion. “I wanted to see you.”

“For two fucking seconds?”

Harry thinks maybe he gets what Louis is trying to stay. “I was worried if I stayed longer you’d see me.”

“Then why be so far away?”

“I got the feeling that you’d be able to sense me.”

“I did,” Louis says. 

“What?”

“Today. I sensed you. As soon as I walked into The Hideaway I could feel you looking at me. I got so pissed off, I thought you were looking at me through your seeing thing.”

“All Seer,” Harry corrects softly. And then tries to catch Louis’ eyes, which have been mostly hidden behind his hands. When he does --and Harry realized it’s the first time they’ve locked eyes this entire interaction-- he tells him earnestly, “I wouldn’t break your trust like that, Louis, not again.”

And just like that Louis is pressed so tightly to Harry’s body, mouth hot and wet against his. And fuck. His hands go instinctually to Louis’ waist, one resting just above his ass, but his mouth is still and his eyes wide open in shock. 

Louis pulls back to lock onto his eyes again, scowl and grit out, “Kiss me back you absolute fucking arsehole.” And he’s back on him in a flash, moving his hands up Harry’s neck in order to grab fistfuls of his hair. His hat falls off his head, and just as it hits the ground, Harry kisses back with a fury, deftly lifts Louis by the back of the thighs and flips them so he’s got Louis pinned against the wall. 

It smells overwhelmingly of pool water chemicals, but Harry couldn’t care less because mixed in is the smell of Louis, which he’s been deprived of for nearly four months. He groans at that and pushed Louis back harder into the wall. Louis lets out this little gasp against Harry’s mouth, which seems to make them both hungrier for more. 

Louis is still grabbing the roots of Harry’s hair with his left hand while his right untangles itself in order to press against Harry’s arse, pulling him even closer. 

And… maybe this isn’t the best idea. Or at the very least the best place. “Louis,” Harry murmurs against his lips. But he can’t bring himself to loosen his grip or even open his eyes. 

Louis answers by biting Harry’s bottom lip ferociously. He whimpers at it and involuntarily grinds against Louis’ hips, where he finds they’re both starting to get hard. 

Harry tries again with, “Maybe this isn’t--” 

But before he can get a full sentence out, the door to his left opens. Harry doesn’t much care about that, but it seems to pull Louis out of...whatever this is... enough to scramble out of Harry’s hold, pushing him away with hands to his chest. His eyes look wild and his lips look swollen from their makeout. And Harry has the feeling that he should be feeling embarrassed but all he can feel is satisfaction at the way Louis looks. 

“Alright, Lou,” someone says, a bit of humor in his voice. The nickname is the only reason Harry looks up. Walking towards them is a man, dressed in jeans and a green t-shirt, hair wet, presumably from the pool. He’s smirking at them. 

“Alright, Luke,” Louis answers, straightening his shirt and running a hand over his hair to get it back in order. Harry doesn’t move. Well, aside from puffing his chest out a little, which causes Louis to grimace. 

“We still on for the footie game, mate?” Luke says. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“See you,” he says, and then gives a wry nod to Harry. 

Louis must still be a little out of it, because Luke is through the door and it’s almost completely shut before he says, “See you.”

Harry tries to not sound completely jealous when he says, “Who’s that?”

“Luke from Econ. He organizes pickup games from time to time.”

Harry wants to push. Wants to ask how well they know each other. Is dying to know what that smirk directed at Harry meant. Feels his blood run hot at the idea of them hooking up. 

But before Harry can ask any more questions, Louis is pulling open the door and stepping outside. 

“Wait,” Harry opens the door and shouts after him. “We need to talk.”

Louis is just shaking his head but doesn’t rush off like he seemed hell-bent on doing before. 

“Lou, what just happened. Do you-- do you maybe want--”

“I just got caught up,” Louis interrupts. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I haven’t gotten laid in a while and you’re just --fuck-- you know I’m attracted to you. And I just got a little worked up. But I’m fine. Now. I’m okay now, it’s passed.”

There are so many things Harry wants to address, but he goes with the one that will tear him apart inside if he doesn’t know. 

“Have you slept with anyone since you’ve come back?”

“That is absolutely none of your business, Harry.”

Harry wants to scream that it is. That the last couple of weeks Louis was in the Underworld it was like they were really headed somewhere, that the last fews days it almost felt like-- like they were--

But then a rush of guilt washes over Harry. Because no matter what it felt like, and no matter how long it felt like that for, Harry was the one to ruin it. 

So instead of fighting that and instead of pushing Louis up against the tree trunk they’re passing as they walk, Harry says, “Okay.” He starts to slow his pace a bit, ready for Louis to continue on without him. 

When Louis notices Harry has fallen back, he slows his pace and turns around a bit. His face is now a mix between the dazed look from their makeout and the intense hardness from their fighting. He looks tired. With a sunken feeling in his chest, Harry realizes he caused that, too. 

Louis stops and waits for Harry to make it the last few steps to him. They are an arms-length distance apart from each other and Harry has never felt a distance so great. 

Louis sighs and waits for Harry to make eye contact before saying, “I need more time.”

Harry just nods. 

Louis nods back at him before turning on his heels and walking away. 

The only thing that saves him from going home and baiting Cerberus to eat him is that Louis looks over his shoulder just before he disappears from sight. He does this little half wave with just his fingers. It’s not what Harry wanted, but it’s something. 

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Royals: SnowBaz Fanfiction;Part One

Loved the royal engagement/wedding/relationship between Prince Harry and Duchess Meghan. It obviously inspired me for this AU.

Simon knew it was going to be difficult with Baz.

Baz Pitch wasn’t exactly the most eloquent when he told Simon about his…situation. Oldest child in the most respected family in pretty much all of western Europe, and he’d just conveniently forgot to mention that within the first two months. They’d been to secluded, expensive restaurants that Simon could’ve only hoped for when he was a kid. The most expensive meal he’d ever had before meeting Baz was an eight dollar basket of chicken tenders he’d had courtesy of his estranged father.

But Baz…Baz had bought him nearly one hundred dollars of just wine…in one night. Simon had gone wide-eyed when he’d seen the bill, feeling his heart race as Baz moved his hand to grab the check. But Baz had smiled when he saw Simon’s crazy-eyes, laughing at him slightly.

“I’ve got it covered,” he mumbled in a tone of voice that Simon was embarrassed to say was sexy. He’d blushed a bit, trying to refuse and knowing full-well he’d never be able to cover his half, but Baz smiled again. He covered Simon’s freckled hand with his own darker one. Simon felt himself smile just a tiny bit. “Really, I’ve got it covered, Snow.”

So two fucking months later, when Simon told Baz that he wanted to put this on lock, Baz looked like he’d been shot. Simon had backed up then, but Baz just smiled and pulled him down on Simon’s shitty couch that had various stains from various takeout places. And then he’d said it. Simon thought it was honestly a joke. Baz? His boyfriend (hopefully) Baz? A royal?

He’d laughed. He’d laughed right in Baz’s face, turning red. It was absurd. Totally. Completely. The royal family’s son wasn’t named Baz. He was named something weird like Tyranny or Tyrannosaurus. The prince lived in seclusion and hadn’t really been out in public since years ago. Simon had remembered the day the prince had been sent to a prestigious boarding school for privileged kids. Simon remembered wanting that so much.

Baz hadn’t laughed back. He just kinda sat there until Simon had calmed down. Then he’d pulled out a tiny photo from his wallet, showing an image of him and the actual fucking queen. And there were even more photos on his phone, showing him with the entire royal family in different settings, different clothes, and different times of day. Some were from other countries. Nearly everyone Simon had idolized since he’d been a child was there.

“So all the fancy dinners…?” Simon began to ask, not really knowing where the question was going. Baz nodded. “And all the private restaurants…?” Baz nodded again.

And that was really just the beginning of it. He’d been dating a royal for two months and not known it. How the hell could he be so oblivious? Baz’s name wasn’t Baz. It was Tyrannus Basilton. The nickname had come from his middle name. The resemblance of older Baz to ten-year-old Baz was undeniable. Simon should’ve seen it earlier. The only reason he didn’t was because Baz had actively stayed out of the press so much.

This had brought so many speedbumps into the relationship. Simon was a commoner. He came from literally nothing. He was born out of wedlock, given up immediately after birth, adopted back by his father, and then basically dumped out with nothing once again. He wasn’t royalty. He didn’t have a dollar to his name. And Baz…Baz went to prestigious boarding schools, could have everything he wanted at the snap of a finger, and could have literally anyone he wanted. And he chose Simon. 

...

Simon tightened his grip on Baz’s warm hands, the morning light filtering through the flat they share. The bed sheets are wrapped around their legs, a little cold but still offering enough warmth for comfort. The morning haze in his mind cleared in a few moments, and he felt that Baz was breathing normally, and even a little quickly, against the nape of his neck. Simon smiled, gripping Baz’s fingers and slowly turning over, curling up against the toned chest he had grown so accustomed to.  

“Good morning,” Baz drawled in a low, gravelly voice.

“Morning,” Simon hummed back, lazily pressing his lips against Baz’s. He felt Baz cringe a little, and Simon laughed. “Is it the morning breath or the scruff this time?”

Baz took a moment to reply, mocking a thinking face and eventually saying, “Both, I think.” He laughed as Simon pressed his cold hands against his face, turning away from the bed and walking towards the bathroom. The cold draft of the flat hit Simon as he closed the bathroom door. The tile stuck to his warm feet, and he turned the nozzle of the shower, feeling the warm spray under his hand before he got in.

The bathroom was quite nice; Baz had asked Simon to move into a place together, and they’d decided (against Simon’s better judgement) on a more expensive two-story flat closer to Buckingham than either of their previous places. It was so much more high-end than anything Simon had ever stepped in. He was still enamored by the multiple showerheads in the shower and changing lights that Baz had installed, all based on an app on their phones.

Seriously, how had Simon come into this?

The bathtub was more akin to a Jacuzzi, the lighting was that of a Kim Kardashian photoshoot, and that was only the bathroom! As Simon scrubbed his hair with his favorite soap that one-fourth of the price of Baz’s, had stared at the photo of them on the bathroom counter. Photos of him and Baz were littered around the flat. Baz was the one that usually printed them; Simon wasn’t really sure why Baz loved printing photos and framing them and putting them everywhere, but he loved it. He loved being reminded that Baz loved him enough to put photos of them everywhere. Perhaps it was a little vain, but Simon didn’t care.

Simon stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He had to get to work soon. Penelope would chastise him for being late to her flower shop again, but running a shop with your best friend had setbacks and privileges. Being able to show up a few minutes late was definitely a privilege.

He walked out into the room and saw Baz still lounging in the bed, glasses a bit askew on his face and sheets wrapped up to his waist. If Simon didn’t have to go back to work, he’d climb back in bed and stay the night with Baz, but that’s just not how Simon wanted to be. He always needed to have something to do: work, school, or recreational. He logically knew that Baz’s money could keep both of them out of work for years to come, but Simon didn’t want that. He wanted to be as normal as possible.

“I had an idea the other day,” Baz said, yawning in the middle and stretching his arms above his head. Simon’s throat ran dry, and he turned back to the massive closet. Most of the clothing in here was Baz’s; he had many more social clothes than Simon did. Being a prince came with many duties, and Simon understood that.

“What kind of idea?” Simon asked, beginning to pat his hair dry as he flipped through a few options for work. “The kind of idea that’s good, or the kind that will end up with you in the news for a scandal?” Simon turned for dramatic effect and fanned his face in faux shock.

Baz laughed and tried to throw a square decorative pillow at him, but Simon caught it and returned a much better hit aimed right at Baz’s face. Baz’ laughter died down, and Simon leaned against the frame of the closet door.

“The kind that could go either way,” Baz finally answered, twisting the sheets in between his fingertips. Simon nodded, a small but nervous smile still on his lips. He waited for Baz to say whatever it was he was thinking about. “I was wondering if you’d join the Church of England?”

Simon’s mouth involuntarily opened slightly, and he cast his eyes down to the floor. The Church of England? He bit at his lips before responding. “I-um-I thought that was only for people like you.”

Baz rolled his eyes and said, “You are people like me. Why else would I ask?” Simon shrugged and turned back to the closet, pulling out his worn baseball tee and a pair of light wash jeans. He put everything on and jumped a little when he felt Baz’s arms wrap around his middle.

“Give it a few days,” Baz whispered into his ear, his open lips warming the shell of his ear. “If it’s a no, then it’s a no. You don’t have to say yes.”

Simon sighed and turned into Baz’s embrace, hugging his bare back and breathing into the nape of Baz’s neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in Baz’s morning scent: bergamot, sleep, and a bit of his own musk. It was comforting. It was home to Simon. He fell asleep and woke up to this. It was uniquely Baz.

“It’s definitely not a no,” Simon replied, pulling back from the hug and moving to sit at the small desk by the high windows of the room. The plain white curtains that hung to the floor covered the bedroom from the outside world. Here, it was just Simon and Baz. As he tugged on his old Chuck Taylor’s that had been so worn that some parts were completely falling apart (like the sole), he looked up at where Baz was now searching through the closet for days clothes. “I just thought that people princes dated didn’t really join the Church of England until…you know.”

Baz stopped his rummaging and clung onto a dark blue shirt, sighing. “Si,” he breathed out, looking over at the desk, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t in this for the long run.” Simon blushed at that, immediately ducking his head so Baz didn’t see. The long run. Simon had known since practically the first date that he wanted this to last as long as it could. He himself was definitely in it for the long run, so hearing Baz say it…his heart did a little spin, jump, and crash in his chest.

“I’m in it for the long run, too,” he mumbled, as he took his car keys from the desk and walked to where Baz stood, smiling up at his boyfriend. He pressed a long but light kiss to Baz’s lips and stepped back. “We’ll talk about the messy details when I get home,” he added, stepping to where the door to the bedroom was. “We’ll figure it out.”

Baz sighed with a dopey grin and said, “You know my mum and dad have to approve you and this, right?” Simon swallowed thickly and nodded, turning the knob on the door. “Okay,” Baz added. “Have a great day at work. Tell Bunce I said hi.”

“I will,” Simon said, smiling as he walked out of the bedroom. He stepped down the modern white stairs of the flat to the base floor and walked past the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and opening the front door.

…

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Penny yelled, slapping Simon’s shoulder with a shocked expression on her face. Simon nodded, a bright smile still on his face. “The fucking Church of England! You know what that means, right?”

The shop was empty because the morning rush was over and they were waiting for the middle of the day. That was the second busiest time of the day; the evening was worse. After a week, they usually ran out of roses, daisies, and tulips. That’s how successful Penny’s marketing was. She was fucking brilliant, and Simon knew it. In retrospect, Simon knew she was smarter and wiser now than he’d ever be, but it didn’t other him. He loved Penny so much. She’d gotten him out of so many stupid situations before.

Baz also loved her, too. Sometimes Simon would just sit back and watch the friendly debates they got in. It was nice to see that Penny and Baz got along well with each other. Simon doesn’t know what he would have done if they hated each other. He didn’t want to give either of them up, and living in that type of animosity would kill him.

“I honestly think he just wants me to meet his parents,” Simon mumbled, cutting the ends of some chrysanthemums and placing them in the vase on the counter. “He’s talked about it more often now, and we have been together for a few years.”

Penny sighed and said, “I met Micah’s parents after a few months. How have you survived this long with the fucking prince?”

“If you say fuck one more time, you won’t meet them either,” Simon laughed. He leaned back against the counter and looked at Penny, who was busying herself with a wreath adorned with multicolored flowers of all shapes and sizes. She turned, a tired but loving expression on her face.

“So you don’t want to meet his parents?” Penny asked sincerely, walking over across Simon and leaning against the wall.

Simon shook his head, swept a shaking hand through his hair, and replied, “It’s not that. I just…I’m a commoner. I come from nothing. Like, quite literally nothing. The second Baz and I go public, the media is going to be a battlefield for who can dig up the most tarnished part of my past. Even I don’t know what it is.”

Penny nodded and remained silent for a minute, picking at her chipped nails. She then said, “What if Baz proposes?” The question hung heavy in the air, and after a few beats, Penny stammered, “You wouldn’t say yes?”

Simon huffed out and said, “Of course I’d say yes, Penn. There’s just so much that comes with being together. I’d never have a private life after that. I’d never be able to just walk out of the flat and come to work with you. On the brighter side, we’d have even more business.”

“Unless you fucked up,” Penny cut in, an evil smirk on her face. Simon laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, unless I fucked up,” he conceded. “Then we’d probably have to close shop altogether.”

Penny sighed, a small laugh still coming out between her lips. “You’re way in over your head, Salisbury,” she mumbled, beginning to walk to the front where a customer had just entered. Salisbury, Simon thought to himself. Just another part of himself he’d given up for Baz. Another part he’d have to give up.

…

The dinner the night of Simon’s official acceptance into the Church of England was too fancy for him.

There were too many spoons and forks to count. Every time Simon picked up the wrong one, Baz would politely point out the right one, which was always one over. Simon felt like he was at a fucking cotillion class. It wasn’t that he was frustrated or mad at Baz; he just needed to get this down now before he met Baz’s parents.

Baz’s parents…Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Simon thought.

The low lighting and candles settled around their private booth made Simon calmer. He wasn’t embarrassed to do something stupid in front of Baz; this was their norm. Simon was the one that didn’t know left foot from right foot, but Baz could point them out in the dark, blind, and deaf. The dynamic was comforting.

They held hands across the table. Simon’s right in Baz’s left. Close, but not suffocated. The dinner was gone. There was just fancy glasses of too-expensive champagne and a finished plate of chocolate cake they’d shared. Simon was stuffed to the brim. He would explode if someone even touched his stomach. The silence was comforting. Baz was sitting there, gazing at Simon with a smile. Simon loved that smile. It was reserved for him and only him. That was the smile Baz had shared on with him on their first date.

“Simon,” Baz drawled, his voice only a whisper. Simon hummed in response, running his thumb over Baz’s hand., but Baz just chuckled to himself. It made Simon laugh, too. He was wearing a dopey grin afterwards. These were the nights he cherished the most. There was no pressure to be perfect. No one was staring at them and making snide comments under their breath. This was just them.

Simon lifted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes, letting out a breath from his mouth and relaxing his shoulders. Baz’s hand left his, and Simon nearly clenched on open air. The feelings of Baz’s fingers were still on his, and Simon opened his eyes and looked back down to see where Baz had gone.

His breathing stopped when he looked to the end of the table where Baz was knelt, a tiny blue velvet box in his hand. His suit jacket was a little uneven on his shoulders, and Simon felt himself involuntarily move his hand to even it out. It stopped midair, where Baz slowly encompassed it in his own.

“I forgot what I was going to say,” Baz whispered, his voice stuck a little in his throat. Simon choked out a laugh. “But the gist was,” Baz continued, “that I love you, and I’ll do anything for you.” He opened the tiny box, and Simon nearly had a heart attack.

It looked older, the gold on the edges more bronze than polished. A single diamond lay at the top, little lines curved near it. It was so fucking simple, but it was like Baz just knew. He always just knew. Simon drew his eyebrows together in a halfhearted way to try and stop the tears he felt were coming.

“So, um…” Simon could tell the words were caught again, and he quickly took Baz’s cheeks in his hand, moving down and placing a hard kiss on his lips.

“Yes,” Simon whispered, face only centimeters apart from Baz’s. He could see that Baz had cried, too. “A thousand times yes.”  

...

this is the ring 

[butcanyoujustimagine]

Once Upon a December PII Moana

Summary: Eleven Years Later, Moana still hasn’t regained her memory and an unsuspecting visitor shows up. 

Eleven years—that’s how long it had been since the day I was brought into foster care. Eleven years since I was found on the side of the road. Eleven years since my entire life probably changed for the worst. I wasn't always an orphan.

I looked down at the locket that had been hanging around my neck for those eleven years. Made of gold and encrusted in what was probably platinum and adorned with emeralds, sapphires, diamonds and pearls, I saw the words, ‘together in Paris’ engraved in elegant script in the metal.  I held it close to my chest and closed my eyes longingly. Someone was waiting for me there, hopefully. The only question was who. Who was waiting for me in Paris?

Looking up at the Soldier making a speech to the rededication of Honolulu, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him. Everybody clapped and I scoffed.

“They can call it Kalakauakulanakahale, but it’ll always be Honolulu! New name, same empty stomachs!” I groaned.

“You could be arrested for saying that, Moana,” Mrs Kim said. “You need to learn to watch your mouth.”

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “They tell us times are better, but newsflash, they’re not. Can’t cook an empty promise in an empty pot! A brighter day is dawning, it’s almost at hand! The skies are blue, the walls have ears, and one who argues mysteriously disappears!”

Everyone chorused after me. “Hail our brave new land!”

I ducked out of sight when a Soldier came walking towards me. He had no doubt heard my outburst of sarcasm.

“Honolulu is lovely. A city on the rise.” Someone said.

“It’s really very friendly,” my brother Dmitry Romanov shout.

“If you don’t mind spies,” my other foster brother Dylan O’Connor said.

“We love to stand in bread lines, to get our mouldy bread!” A stranger added.

“We’re good and loyal comrades and our favourite colour’s red!” The people cheered.

I popped out from behind the wall. “Now everyone is equal, and professors push the brooms. Two dozen total strangers stuck into two small rooms. You hold a revolution and this shit’s the price you pay!” I scoffed.

“Mahalo iāʻoe no nā lono!” Someone shouted. (Thank you for the rumours!)

“Thank god for all the gossip that gets our asses through the day!” Another person added. I nodded my head in agreement.

“HAVE YOU HEARD!” a girl shouted running towards us, waving a flyer in her hand like it was a flag of some sort... “THERE’S A RUMOUR IN HONOLULU! HAVE YOU HEARD WHAT WHAT THEY'RE SAYING ON THE STREET?”

“What?” I asked.

“All though the King did not survive, his youngest child may be still alive.” She whispered.

“The Princess Auli’ilani?” I asked, in shock. I couldn’t believe it. It was probably just some rumour.

She shushed me. “But please do not repeat.”

“It’s a rumour, a legend, a mystery. Something whispered in an alleyway or through a crack. It’s a rumour, that’s part of Hawai’ian History,” Dmitry said.

Akea Ngata, a big buff Maori guy from New Zealand looked down at his phone. “It says he royal Grandmama will pay a royal some, to someone who can bring the princess back.”

I heard a man muttering something under his breath. He was old, had grey hair and a beard. His skin had sunken in from the lack of food. Stress had taken its toll on him. “Honolulu was lovely when the United States and Royalty were in. I called myself a Senator as I had been elected. I hobnobbed with the Royals and then a change of luck. The was dead, State and Federal Senators fled and now comrades now we’re stuck!” He walked off. Why did that man look familiar? Did I know him from somewhere?

“I’ll see you back at St Anne’s,” I said to them. My brothers nodded and we all went our separate ways.

“A dollar for this painting. It belonged to Royalty, I swear!”

“Count Akamai’s Pajamas, comrade buy the pair!” Another vendor hollered to tourists and locals alike.

“I found this in the Mansion, initialled, with an ‘A’ it could be Auli’ilani’s, now what will someone pay!” someone hollered.

Looking over, I saw a young man dressed in sunglasses and a hat turned away towards any sight of cameras.

“How much for that music box?” He asked. He was British, and yet his voice sounded so familiar to her. Where did she know him from?

“Tom, are you sure this going to work?” asked a much young younger voice. He was dressed in the same attire. A black polo shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of nice shoes. Or what the rest of the world called sneakers, runners, or trainers.  

“There’s more to being a Princess than wearing a Tiara and a prop! How do you even know it’s the real bloody thing?” asked another guy. Why were they all dressed the same?

“Tom, we should get out of here. This isn’t a good idea to be here without security,” a much younger voice said. He had to be fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. “You know what mum’ll say.”

“I’m doing what the doctor said. If she really is an amnesiac, maybe this’ll help jog her memory,” the first one pointed out.

“We still don’t know if it’s real or not.” said the last one.

“The music box? It’s a genuine Kawananakoa, I could never part with it!” The vendor pleaded. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and it reminded me of an old foster kid I knew long ago.

“Two cans of beans, comrade?” asked the oldest boy.

“Here,” he said. Soon, there was a flock of people chasing after the Street Vendor.

Then, I heard a loud noise that reminded me of a gunshot. I screamed and cowered against a brick wall. “NO!” I cried out in horror. “No, please!”

The soldier who made the speech jumped out and helped me up. Looking into his brown eyes, they were filled with kindness and compassion. Something I had never seen from any soldier before. “It was just a truck backfiring, comrade. That’s all it was. Those days are over now, neighbour against neighbour. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Oh, god, you’re freezing. There’s a tea shop just around the corner, let me…”

I cut him off. Though his eyes might’ve been kind, growing up in foster care and on the streets of O’ahu had taught me one thing: DON’T TRUST SOLDIERS! They could be part of the Secret Police. “No thank you,” trying to push away, his muscular body stopped me from running.

“What’s your hurry?” He asked me, this time his tone a bit more serious.

I swallowed my fear. “I need to go home - my family’s waiting for me,” I said.

“Oh, then let me give you a ride!” He smiled. “It’ll be much quicker than walking.” He opened the door for me and we got in. “Where are you going?” He asked me as he started the car and drove through the streets of O’ahu.

“St Anne’s Home for Troubled Souls,” I responded.

He laughed. “You don’t have an accent!” He laughed. “I thought they were all foreigners and men!”

“I was born in Hawai’i and I’m the only girl,” I responded. At least, I assumed I was born in Hawaii.

Soon, after a bunch of awkward silence, we made it to St Anne’s. Towering over the beautiful landscape was a mansion all boarded up and in need of a paint job. The roof was probably caving in and so were the floorboards. It was very haunted by the ghosts of fallen Polynesian Warriors, a Kahuna who hated everyone who wasn’t Polynesian, dead nuns and priests, lunatic doctors who did terrible things to their patients, dead patients, and murder victims. But still, living here was better than being homeless.

The next day, I was looking out the window at the ocean. A cigarette in my hand, I didn’t care that it would give me lung cancer in the long run. I longed to sail on the ocean and go to worlds unknown. At least that would get me out of Hawaii.

“MOANA, В АВТОМОБИЛЕ В АВТОМОБИЛЕ!” I heard my foster brother Dmitry Romanov shout at the top of his lungs and my thoughts were pulled away from my unknown past and future. (MOANA, THERE’S A CAR IN THE DRIVEWAY!)

“Chết tiệt, đó là gia đình hoàng gia Anh!” My other brother Stanley Dai whispered. (Damn, it’s the British Royal Family!)

“De jeito nenhum!” Andre Carvalho cried. (No fucking way!)

I ran towards the door and saw my brothers bolt towards the one window that wasn't boarded up. If it were true, I had to fucking see this. I pushed my way through my brothers and saw a black limo parked in the driveway. A man with brown curly hair, dressed in khaki shorts and sunglasses came out. “Is that your cousin?” I heard Dylan O’Connor ask Dmitry.

“I think so,” Dmitry whispered.

We could hear what they were saying through the glass window. “Why would she live here, Mum? Here of all places?”

“Auli’i was fond of causing trouble,” Tom shrugged. “I remember that from when we were little?”

“Why does he seem so familiar?” I asked the boys.

“Because he’s been on the cover of every single bloody magazine to date,” Akea said in a ‘duh’ tone.

I rolled my eyes, but he was right. The Crowned-Prince Thomas and his little brothers Harry and Sam walked to the front door and rang the bell. Dmitry got up and opened it.

“Hello, St Anne’s Home for Troubled Souls, why is the Crowned Prince of Great Britain knocking on our door?” He asked. His thick Russian accent shining through. 

“I’m looking for someone,” Tom said. “Someone who’s supposed to live here. She doesn’t go by the name anymore, but her name is Auli’ilani. Everyone calls her Auli’i for short.”

Dmitry scoffed. “Up the hill, you can find the graves,” he began to shut the door.

“WAIT!” Tom hollered. “Wait! She might go by the name Moana.”

I perked up. All the eyes turned to me. Why did he want me? Me of all people. Hell, I considered smoking a past time, I worked for a crime family, I didn’t do well when it came to authority and I was a professional procrastinator. Why did he want me? I wasn’t cut-out to be a Princess—let alone a Queen.

I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I walked over to the door, dressed in nothing but sweatpants, one of my brother’s hoodies, and miss-matching socks. “What do you want, Mas?” I asked.

“Did she just call you Mas?” asked the youngest boy who came flying out of the car and running up towards us.

“BE CAREFUL! YOU MIGHT TRIP!” I hollered. I couldn’t help myself. Having to raise me made me a compulsive caretaker.

“Why’d you call me Mas?” Tom asked, a bit in shock.

“I dunno, just felt right,” I said. I grabbed a cigarette from my hoodie’s pockets. “Want a smoke?”

“Happily,” Tom smiled. I handed him a cigarette and he lit his and mine with a lighter with his family crest engraved on it.  I had no doubt it was custom made. He was next-in-line for the Throne, he could afford stuff like that.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Now, why’d you just call me ‘Mas?’” Tom asked me. “I’ll only ask this once.”

“Sounds like you’re threatening me, but let me tell you one thing, Your Royal Pain in the Ass, I’ve met people a hell of a lot scarier than you,” I told him with a smirk on my face. “I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of any of you.” I looked outside and saw one of the Royal Guards walking towards Kahuna Hill. “CAN’T YOU FUCKIN’ READ!? IT SAYS ‘KEEP OUT’ FOR A FUCKING REASON!”

“What do you remember?” asked the Queen of Great Britain, a bit shocked at my outburst at one of their guards. “What do you know?”

“Know of what?” I scoffed.  

“Your past,” Tom said. “What do you know of your past?”

I sighed and looked out at the ocean my ancestors had sailed thousands of years before. Everything felt like clouds of mist. Every time I close my eyes I try to remember, but nothing comes back to me.  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t even know my name.”

“How’d you not know your own name?” The young boy asked me. He seemed in shock, and he had every right to be. Not many people respond with ‘I don’t even know my own name.’

“The doctors gave me a name at the hospital...Moana. They told me I had amnesia and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.” I sighed.

“What do you remember?” Tom asked me. “Let’s start there.”

I sighed and stared off into the vast ocean once again. “Well, if you insist. They said I was found by the side of a road. There were tracks all around and for the first time in a hundred years, it had recently snowed. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees, laid a girl with no name and no memories but these. Rain against a window. Dirty sheets upon a bed. Terrified of the nurses that were whispering overhead. ‘He said to call the child Moana. Give the child a hat!’ I don’t know a thing before that.

Travelling the back roads. Sleeping in the woods. Taking what I needed and working when I could. Keeping up my courage and foolish as it seems, at night all alone in my dreams. In my dreams, shadows call. I see a light at the end of a hall. Then my dreams fade away. But I know it all will come back, one day.”

“Nossa irmã perdeu isso,” André whispered to someone. (Our sister’s lost it.)

“I dream of a city beyond all compare. Is it Paris? Paris. A beautiful river and a bridge by a square. And I hear someone whisper, ‘I’ll meet you right there.’ In Paris, Paris.” I snapped back into reality. No one wanted to hear the sob story. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I snapped. “Not to know who you are.” I felt tears come to my eyes. “To have lived in the shadows and travelled so far. I’ve seen flashes of fire, heard the echoes of screams but I still have this faith in the truth of my dreams. In my dreams, it’s all real and my heart has so much to reveal. And my dreams seem to say. Don’t be afraid to go on, don’t give up hope, come what may. I know it all will come back, one day!”

“Она потеряла его. Она ушла.” Dmitry said. (She’s lost it. She’s gone.)

“Those days are long over now.” I sighed, drying my eyes. “Go, have a nice day. Sorry, you came all the way out here for nothing. Enjoy searching for someone who’s dead.”

Tom then pulled out a music box. “This belonged to her,” Tom said. “Do you recognise it?”

“It’s a fake, Tom!” groaned Harry. “Give it a rest, Tom!”

It wasn’t the fact that it made with platinum, gold, silver, and diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. It wasn’t the fact that it was in pristine condition. It was the fact that it had a little wave sticking up at the top that caught my eye. It was a keyhole it had on the side and an inscription.

Hui pū ma Paris. it said. That translated into: together in Paris—the same thing it said on my necklace. I carefully took the box from the Crowned Prince and placed my necklace into the hole. Turning it three times to the right, it opened. A song began playing. But I didn’t pay attention to that.

Looking up at the house where the Royal Family was slaughtered, I bolted out the door and ran upstairs.

The shouts and screams of my brothers could be heard from behind me, but I didn’t care. Going around Kahuna Hill and avoiding Murder’s Hideaway, I made my way to the old house. Pushing open the door, I felt a flood of memories come back to me.

I heard the music box still playing, the lyrics came back to me.

Dancing bears painted wings Things I almost remember And a song, someone sings Once upon a December Someone holds me safe and warm Horses prance through a thunderstorm Figures dancing gracefully across my memories

“Something’s not right.”

“Shut up, Moana. If they wanted to do something, they would have done it by now.”

“Sit on your mother’s lap. Akea, stand next to your father. Smile for the cameras.”

Far away, long ago Glowing dim as an ember Things that I used to know Things I used to remember And a song, someone sings Once upon a December

“Yeah, I don't know how I got to Hawaii, Your Majesties. All I know is that I’m here and these people are my family. I guess I’m related to you through Queen Victoria.” Dmitry explained. “MOANA! MOANA, IT’S NOT SAFE TO BE IN THERE!”

Before coming out, I pulled the bag of diamonds I had kept on me for years and kept it in my hand. “Okay, so I’ll humour you. If I really am the Princess, I’d be dead. The government would’ve already found me. I mean, I’m living here. How do I know this isn’t some prank set-up by Dmitry?”

“Ever since archeologists stated they didn’t find your body, we’d been looking for you. We managed to track you down through a bite mark…” the Queen said.

I cut her off. “That can be inaccurate,” I said. “In fact, one of the leading people in bitemark analysis stated that it isn’t accurate and shouldn’t be used as evidence in a court of law,” I pointed out. “A bite-mark analysis means jack-shit to me.”

“We know that,” Tom said. “From your many trips to the emergency room, they have your DNA on record from blood tests doctors have run on you…”

“Wow, isn’t your family Royal Stalkers,” I scoffed, gripping the bag of precious stones closer to me as if one of my brothers would come up and take it out of my hand. I sighed and looked over at the British Royal Family. “So go on after you hacked into my medical files. What did you learn?”

They were shocked by my outburst. I don’t think anyone has talked to them like that. “Well, uh, we learned that you have a specific type of anemia that ran within the Hawaiian Royal Family, hemolytic anemia?” Tom asked.

“It’s mild, I don’t need to take medication. The doctors presumed I had a bone marrow transplant sometime before I entered foster care,” I said. “I have the scar on my hip from an injection.”

“Your mother gave you the injection, your blood type is also RH-null,” Tom said. He was looking at his phone.

“Okay, Your Royal Creepiness, even if I am the long-lost princess, when the government finds out, I’d be dead faster than you can blink? How the hell am I not dead now?” I asked, a little shaken that he knew all that about me. I’d need to talk to their hackers, see if I could learn a few things from them.

“Because they don’t know about you or you have an ally in the government,” the Queen said. Her accent sounded posh and she was dressed in a fancy knee-length dress that wasn’t meant for running around the property. It had to be expensive too, though I didn’t have a degree in fashion. “They’re probably covering for you.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “Why are you really here? Is it for charity work?” I asked. I’d had enough of them trying to convince me that I was a dead person. She died along with her family, that needed to be accepted by people like me. “I can’t break an old woman’s heart for money. I can’t do that to the grandmother. I can’t do that to the extended Hawaiian Royal Family.”

“All of which agree that you’re her!” the youngest pointed out. He was jumping down excitedly. “You have to be. You have the same coloured eyes!”

“It’s called heterochromia,” I sighed. “It’s not life-threatening. It’s just cool.”  

“Please, Moana,” Tom pleaded with us. “Give us a chance. We’ll help you earn your memory back. You won’t have to go through life knowing something missing. You must wanna know who your parents are.”

“According to you, they’re ‘King Keanu Kawananakoa and Queen Ashley Kawananakoa,’” I scoffed.  

“Why are you so reluctant to believe?” Harry asked me.

“Because it’s completely BS! It sounds the plot of a shit romance novel! This is real life. I’m a poor girl from Hawai’i who grew up in foster care and was forced to raise herself. I’m a convicted criminal and a recovering opiate addict,” I snapped. I choked back my tears. “Even if I did go with you, how the hell will I get out? How will you get papers, not just for me, but for the rest of us? I’m not leaving them behind.”

“Go with them, Moana!” Dmitry blurted. “Go, it’ll be good for you!”

“Dmitry, are you nuts!” I snapped. “One word that the Princess has been found I’m floating in the Thames!” I felt tears starting to roll down my cheeks. “I just wanna live a normal life with my family or as normal as it’ll ever get for an amnesiac. I’ll be at the scrutiny of the media if I go with you. I’ll tarnish your reputation and make you lose public approval. Nobody wants a convicted criminal on the throne!” I dried my eyes and looked up at them. “I don’t wanna be the cause of your downfall. I already have enough grief on my conscious, I don’t need the downfall of an empire to be on it too.”

My cigarette was finished and I threw it to the ground. The weight of the world was slowly falling on my shoulders as reality hit me. I was being told that I was the long-lost Princess of Hawai’i who had gone into a fug state after I had witnessed the death of my entire family and escaped their massacre. Why me? “Can’t you prank somebody else!” I snapped.

“Look, Moana, I overheard some soldiers talking and soon they’ll be a warrant for your death issued. You leave with us or you die,” Tom said. He seemed in pain that he had to say that.

I stumbled back onto Akea who somehow managed to not fall back onto the ground. “You mean I’ll be dead soon?” I asked. “Oh, fuck. It’s only a matter of time until they find me in London.”

“That won't happen,” the Queen assured me. “We have the best security forces in the world.”

“In a matter of respect, Madam, the whole reason why I'm in Hawai’i is that of your Security forces,” Dmitry said. “It says so in my file.”

“Show it to me when we get back to the house,” the Queen ordered. Dmitry nodded his head.

“I don't wanna be in the public spotlight,” I responded. “I don't want my every fucking move scrutinised by the media. Look, Royal Pain, you can have anyone you want in the world. People would happily go on a date with you. Please, find someone else.”

Tom grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him. Looking into his chestnut brown eyes, I felt myself getting lost in them. That wasn't a good sign. The prince had minty breath that smelt almost heavenly. I felt myself tensing up and not being able to look into his eyes like I should.

Fine,” I sighed. “Then I’ll go.”

[kirikinni]

Gang? What Gang?- Taekook fluff

“You will not believe what happened to me,” Taehyung exclaimed loudly as he barreled into the kitchen. He was carrying shopping bags on both his arms. It was a known fact that Taehyung just did not possess the patience to make two trips, especially after work.

“Please don’t tell me you got arrested or ate something someone gave you or brought home another cat,” Jungkook replied in a tone that suggested there were instances where these kinds of things did in fact happen.

“No, no. It wasn’t anything like that this time. I made new friends.” Taehyung continued in his excited way of speaking. He placed the grocery bags on the floor near the fridge and started unloading them into the fridge and the cabinets.

“That’s good I guess, where exactly did you make these friend babe?” Jungkook asked, he was cutting onions and they were making his eyes sting. He couldn’t see clearly.

“Oh at the supermarket after I finished shopping and came out...” Taehyung started to tell his story but was cut off by a loud cry from Jungkook.

“Shit,” Jungkook called out as he had managed to cut his finger by mistake.

“Tae, go and get me a Band-Aid please,” Jungkook said and all talk about Taehyung’s new friends was forgotten.

Taehyung brought the bandages to Jungkook who was washing his hand under the sink. Jungkook wiped it with Dettol and cleaned it before he placed the bandage over it.

“You really do need to be more careful love,” Taehyung said, kissing Jungkook’s forehead. Jungkook was a little shorter than he was and it proved to be the perfect height for Taehyung.  “Sit, I’ll cut.”

Jungkook gladly accepted and jumped onto the counter, Taehyung moved the cutting board closer to where Jungkook was sitting so he could continue to talk to him while he cut the onions.

“How was your day?” Taehyung asked.

“Okay, this one kid in my class is annoying me so much. I mean you signed up for this class why are you disrupting it? Like I would understand if it was one of those forced to take classes in school but you are literally signing up to come and learn how to dance.” Jungkook said exasperatedly.

“Was it the kid with the Harry Potter glasses and the always bandaged hand?” Taehyung asked - he knew all the kids who would go to Jungkook for classes and Jungkook knew all the kids in Taehyungs senior literature class.

“No, that’s the kid I like. He’s such a sweet little thing, he’s so timid and scared he’s going to mess up but dancing runs through his veins. There’s not a step he can’t master and he has such grace when he moves.” Jungkook stopped to sigh. “I enjoy watching him dance.”

“You talk about the kid like he’s some kind of prodigy Kookie,” Taehyung said laughing.

“He might as well be, I love him.”

“Aww, what have I been replaced?” Taehyung asked placing his free hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“Ya I think so, the kid is cuter,” Jungkook replied smirking.

“But he can’t fuck you like I can,” Taehyung said back to him with the same level of smugness.

“Yah Kim Taehyung he’s a kid,” Jungkook yelled and whacked Taehyung on the shoulder. Taehyung just laughed at him and continued to cut.

“Anyway so about the annoying kid, he was literally just throwing things when I got to class and most of the other kids were super annoyed cause like some of them were getting hit with the stuff and when I told him to stop he threw a shoe at me. Can you believe that he threw a fucking shoe at me? So I told him to wait outside and I called his parents. I hope that kid gets in trouble.” Jungkook said crossing his arms and pouting.

“Kookie, he’s a kid don’t be rude,” Taehyung said pointing the knife at Jungkook.

Jungkook put his hands up in surrender not taking his eyes off of the knife, “Sorry mom. I’ll try to be nicer.”

Taehyung finished chopping up the vegetable and he threw them into the pan that was sizzling on the stove. Jungkook got off of the counter claiming that his finger was okay and that he could cook. Jungkook worked on the sauce as Taehyung put the pasta to boil and fried the vegetables and meat together. Once the pasta was cooked and the food was finally ready Jungkook transferred the food into serving dishes and Taehyung took the cutlery and went out to set the table.

“Okay Tae, put on the second season of Shokugeki No Soma. We haven’t even started to watch it yet.” Jungkook said once he had placed the food on the dining table. He served for both himself and Taehyung while Taehyung put on the anime they were currently watching. Jungkook took both plates over to the carpet in front of the TV and sat down to eat. Taehyung joined him once the first episode started to play.

“This tastes so nice, I’m getting a foodgasm.” Taehyung moaned loudly which caused Jungkook to laugh and Jungkook laughing means Taehyung laughing and so they were both laughing like there was no tomorrow.

The boys finished their dinner and resigned to the bedroom. Taehyung had papers to correct and Jungkook had tests to study for, there was a two-year difference between the boys and Jungkook was in his last year of college.

“Tae what’s inflation? Like I know what it is but that’s just a general idea and this textbook is highly useless.” Jungkook asked, confusion getting the best of him.

“It’s what happens when the prices for multiple commodities of an economy increases and so to meet the rise in price the people will need to increase their purchasing power as well,” Taehyung answered without lifting his head from the literature papers he was correcting.

Taehyung had studied business and economics first until he decided that English was more his area and so he ditched it and joined the English courses.

It was past eleven when Taehyung was finally done, he got off the chair and stretched. He looked around and realized that Jungkook wasn’t in the room. He figured that Jungkook must have gone into the dining room to study. He walked out and saw Jungkook scribbling away in his notebook, three textbooks open in front of him.

“Kookie time for bed, c’mon” Taehyung said from behind him and reached forward to close the books.

“Wait hyung, I need to finish this chapter,” Jungkook said stopping Taehyung’s hand.

“Tomorrow morning if you want, you need to sleep.” Taehyung refused to listen and he closed the books but not before he marked the pages where Jungkook was. Jungkook sighed but stood up nonetheless, he was looking at Taehyung strangely and out of nowhere he reached forward and hugged Taehyung. Jungkook wrapped his hands around his waist and pressed his face into Taehyung’s neck, just under his chin. When he pulled back he saw a confused look on Taehyung’s face.

“I love you,” Jungkook said and Taehyung just continued to stare at him. “I thought I’d tell you, I don’t tell you enough.” After saying that Jungkook whispered goodnight and walked to his room. Taehyung was left smiling like an idiot in the dining room. Eventually, he also retired to his own room.

New message from Unknown, 5:45pm 17 th November

“Tae tae, hey.”

          “Who is this?”

“Its Jimin, u know v met at the grocery store.”

           “Oh right, I gave you lift.   So sorry I forgot to save your number”

“It’s a’ight mate, listen I wntd to ask if  u could give me n ma frnds a lift?”

           “Sure man, where are you guys?”

“Thnx, ur a lifesvr. Ill send u location.”

            “Cool okay, I’ll see you guys soon.”

Taehyung switched his phone off and went back to the book he was reading, Jungkook was at school and he had the day off so Taehyung committed himself to finishing his book. His phone buzzed again, he figured it must have been Jimin texting him the location and indeed it was.

“Here’s the loc bro, come soon. Thnx again.”

Taehyung checked the time and realized that he could pick up Jungkook now as well. Jungkook didn’t like it when Taehyung drove to pick him up because Taehyung would have to drive an extra half hour but the location Jimin had sent him was on the path of Jungkook’s college. Taehyung grabbed his keys and coat from the room and walked out of the house, locking the door behind him.

“Jungkookie, I’m outside where are you?” Taehyung asked into the phone.

“You’re here? What? Why?” Jungkook asked - Taehyung imagined Jungkook whipping his head around to look for him.

“Near the front, I had to pick something up and your college was on the way so come on.”

“Okay okay, I’m walking right now.”

Jungkook saw the car soon enough and he waved, he secretly loved it when Taehyung picked him up. He got in and was greeted with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey babe, we’re not going home right now okay. A few friends needed a lift so we’ll just drop them off and then we’ll go.”

“Ya that’s okay but listen there’s this dude in my class…” and Jungkook started ranting to Taehyung, talking a mile a minute.

Taehyung half focused on Jungkook’s story and half on the road. He had crashed his car enough times. Taehyung pulled up near a police station. Jungkook cocked his eyebrow and turned his head towards Taehyung in confusion.

“Why are we at the police station?”

“To pick up my friends, Jimin told me they were near the station. They’re probably in that café. Wait I’ll call.” Taehyung said, he took out his phone and pulled up Jimin’s contact. The phone rang for a while until someone picked up and a loud, rude voice spoke into it.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Taehyung was taken aback for a second and was about to reply with the same tone when he heard arguing on the other side.

“Hyung, give me my phone. I told you not to pick up my calls.” The voice zeroed in on Taehyung who was waiting, confused on the line. “Hey, sorry, Yoongi hyung’s in a bad mood. Who’s this?”

“It’s Taehyung, I’m outside.”

“Oh Tae, okay cool. We’ll be right out.”

“Okay see you.”

Jimin hung up and Taehyung waited. Jungkook was watching the police station, still uncertain of these friends Taehyung had made and lo and behold Jimin followed by two other boys walked out of the station smug smiles plastered onto their faces. Jungkook didn’t know that this was Taehyung’s friend though and so was surprised that these boys were heading straight for them and waving.

“Tae let’s go, those guys are walking straight towards. I don’t care why they were in there, we need to leave now.” Jungkook stopped and realized that Taehyung was in fact not listening, “Kim Taehyung are you listening to me?”

Jimin saw Taehyung and waved but Taehyung was in too much shock to wave back. He couldn’t believe the boy he had befriended was walking out of a police station smiling like he won the lottery.

Jimin and the other two entered the backseat. Jimin pulled himself up front and greeted Taehyung like they were old friends.

“What’s up brother, these are my friends. Resting bitch face hyung and horse face hyung.” Taehyung laughed a little but Jungkook still had his jaw on the floor as he had just witnessed three boys walk out of a police station and straight into their car.

“I will actually stab you next time, my name’s Yoongi. Don’t listen to this asshole.” Yoongi said after grabbing Jimin’s hair and pulling him back.

“You wanna be behind bars again go ahead,” Jimin said, rubbing his head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, unlike you pussies.” Yoongi retaliated.

“Hyung it’s not cool that you were in the cell, it’s cool that I got us out,” Jimin said smirking.

Yoongi brought his hand up to hit Jimin but Hoseok grabbed it. He had noticed the shock, surprise and slight fear on Jungkook and Taehyung’s face.

“Hi, I’m Hoseok. Please excuse them and the oh so loving nickname Jiminie has for me. You’re Taehyung right, Jimin told me about you.” He said, smiling at Taehyung. He looked over at Jungkook and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “You are?”

“Jungkook, Taehyung’s boyfriend,” Jungkook said, he was in a daze.

“Oh, well nice to meet you Jungkook.”

The banter continued and Taehyung fell into it somehow. Jungkook stayed silent, though, he was trying to process all the strange information his brain was receiving.

Taehyung pulled up at a garage and the three boys got out. Yoongi and Hoseok waved their goodbyes and went inside the garage door. Jimin stayed behind to thank Taehyung and apologize to Jungkook; Jimin had noticed Jungkook’s discomfort.

“Okay then see you later brother,” Jimin said and held up his hand, his middle finger and pointer finger was intertwined while his thumb held down his ring finger and his pinky stood upright. Taehyung returned the sign effortlessly and said his goodbyes as well. It was only while they were driving back did Jungkook realize what the sign was.

“Taehyung can you show me that thing you did with your hand right now.” Taehyung showed him and Jungkook would have slapped him if he weren’t driving.

“You complete nut, that’s a gang sign. You fucking went and made friends with gang members. Good going idiot.”

“A gang sign? No way, they’re not in a gang. They’re just cool people.” Taehyung replied; Jimin wasn’t in a gang.

“Oh ya, text that Jimin and ask him,” Jungkook said, crossing his arms in front of him. He was angry at Taehyung’s irresponsibility.

Taehyung texted Jimin,

                                                         “Bro, are you guys a gang? Like full on                                                                                                                     gang?”

             “Hmm, ya man. Didnt u alrdy know?

             We call ourselves Stigma, it’s 5 of us.

             Me, Yoongi hyung, Hoseok hyung,

             Namjoon hyung and Seokjin hyung and

             when u come for initiation you can be in it 2.”

Taehyung stared at the message, he had somehow managed to end up in a gang. There was only one thing he could say now.

“Oh fuck me.”